CHAPTER XVII.
SANS-SOUCI.
Early the next morning a plain, simple equipage stood at the gate of the new park in Potsdam. The king and the Marquis D'Argens entered the carriage alone. Frederick refused all other attendance; even his servants were forbidden to accompany him.
When the carriage stopped he opened the door himself, and springing lightly out, offered his arm to his older and less agile friend. The marquis blushed like a young girl, and wished to decline this offered service of the king.
Frederick, however, insisted upon giving his assistance, and said, smiling: "Forget, D'Argens, for this day, that I am a king; grant me the pleasure of passing the time with you without ceremony, as friend with friend. Come, marquis, enter my paradise, and I pray you to encourage a solemn and prayerful mood."
"Do you know, sire, I have a feeling of oppression and exaltation combined, such as the Grecians may have felt when they entered the Delphian valley?" said D'Argens, as arm in arm with the king they sauntered through the little shady side allee which the king had expressly chosen in order to surprise the marquis with the unexpected view of the beautiful height upon which the castle was erected.
"Well, I believe that many oracles will go out from this height to the world," said Frederick; "but they shall be less obscure, shall bear no double meaning; shall not be partly false, shall contain great shining truths. I also, dear D'Argens, feel inspired. I seem to see floating before me through the trees a majestic, gigantic form of air, with uplifted arm beckoning me to follow her. That is the spirit of the world's history, marquis; she carries her golden book on her arm; in her right hand, with which she beckons me, she holds the diamond point with which she will engrave my name and this consecrated spot upon her tables. Therefore, my holy father and priest. I have brought you here to baptize my Weinberg. Come, friend, that form of air beckons once more; she awaits the baptism with impatience."
And now they passed from the little allee and entered the great avenue; an expression of admiration burst from the lips of the marquis; with flashing eyes he gazed around upon the magnificent and enchanting scene. Here, just before them, was the grand basin of marble, surrounded with groups of marble statues; farther off the lofty terraces, adorned with enormous orange-trees, rustling their glossy leaves and pearly blossoms in the morning breeze, greeting their king with their intoxicating fragrance. Upon the top of these superb terraces, between groups of marble forms and laughing cascades, stood the little castle of Weinberg, beautiful in its simplicity; upon its central cupola stood a golden crown, which sparkled and glittered in the sunshine.
The king pointed to the crown. "Look," said he, "how it flashes in the sun, and throws its shadow upon all beneath it: so is it, or may it be, with my whole life! May my crown and my reign be glorious!"
The marquis pressed his hand tenderly. "They will be great and glorious through all time," said he. "Your grand-children and your great-grandchildren will speak of the lustre which played upon that crown, and when they speak of Prussia's greatness they will say: 'When Frederick the Second lived, the earth was glad with light and sunshine.'"