'He? In his arms my father died. Father recommended him to me, I wish to have him, let him come.'
'They have sent for him,' Sulkowski said shrugging his shoulders impatiently.
'Joseph, don't be angry,' said Frederick in a plaintive tone.
As he said this the bells began to ring mournfully in the churches of the capital of Saxony. Frederick kneeled and prayed. Sulkowski followed his example. One after the other the bells rang out, the solemn sounds forming a gloomy choir, accompanied by the whispering of the people, whispering to each other the sad news.
[CHAPTER VI]
While the preceding events were taking place in the castle, preparations were in progress at the opera for the performance of 'Cleophila.'
The splendour with which the operas were put upon the stage, a hundred horses and camels appearing with numberless artistes in gorgeous oriental costumes, and the fairy-like effects produced by elaborate machinery, combined to attract as large an audience as did the charming voice of Signora Faustina Bordoni.
Faustina, the first singer of those times, famous for her victory over the equally famous Cuzzoni, was prima donna in the full meaning of the word, on the stage, behind the scenes, and beyond. Signora Bordoni, although married to the great composer, Johanet Hasse, could forget him. The marriage had been broken the next day by command of the King, who sent the musician to Italy to study there.
As the carriage bringing Brühl and the sad news of the death of Augustus the Strong neared the castle Faustina was sitting in the small drawing-room arranged for her near the stage, and having removed her furs was about to issue her orders.
The prima donna was not very young, but notwithstanding her Italian beauty, which blossoms and withers quickly, she preserved her voice, the charm of her figure, and the beauty of her face, the features of Juno with which nature had endowed her.