“But one has remained faithful.”
“‘Among the faithless, faithful only he’ Among the innumerable false, unmoved, unshaken, unseduced, unterrified, that is my sword. If the exalted empresses are not my friends, the greater honor to my good sword which has never failed me, and which shall go down with me into the dark grave. If in Europe I have neither friends nor allies, I may find both in other parts of the world. Asia may send me the troops which Europe denies. If Russia is my enemy, who knows but for this reason Turkey may become my ally? And who knows but an alliance with the so-called unbelievers would be of more value to Prussia than a league with the so-called believing Russians? They call themselves Christians, but their weapons are lies, intrigues, deceit, and treachery. The Moslem, however, is an honorable man and a brave soldier. If he calls his God Allah, and his Christ Mohammed, God may call him to account. I have nothing to do with it. What has faith to do with the kings of this world? Besides, I believe the Turks and Tartars are better Christians than the Russians.”
“Your majesty is really, then, thinking of an alliance with the Turks and Tartars?” said Le Catt.
“I am thinking of it so earnestly,” said the king, eagerly, “that day and night I think of nothing else. I have spared no cost, no gold, no labor, to bring it about. Once I had almost succeeded, and the Sublime Porte was inclined to this league; and my ambassador, Rexin, was, with the consent of the Grand Vizier Mustapha, and indeed by his advice, disguised and sent secretly to Constantinople. The negotiations were almost completed, when the Russian and French ambassadors discovered my plans, and by bribery, lies, and intrigues of every base sort, succeeded in interfering. Mustapha broke his promise, and his only answer to me was—‘that the Sublime Porte must wait for happier and more propitious days to confirm her friendship and good understanding with the King of Prussia.’ This was the will of God the Almighty. This propitious year has been a long time coming, but I hope it is now at hand, and this longed-for alliance will at length be concluded. The last dispatches from my ambassador in Constantinople seem favorable. The wise and energetic Grand Vizier Raghile, the first self-reliant and enterprising Turkish statesman, has promised Rexin to bring this matter before the sultan, and I am daily expecting a courier who will bring me a decisive and perhaps favorable answer from Tartary.”
[Footnote: Kammer, “History of the Porte,” vol. viii., p. 190.]
Le Catt gazed with admiration upon the noble, excited countenance of the king. “Oh, sire,” said he, deeply moved, “pardon, that in the fulness of my heart, overcome with joy and rapture. I dare for once to give expression in words to my love and my admiration. It is a glorious spectacle to see the proud oak in the midst of the wild tempest firm and unmoved, not even bowing its proud head to the raging elements, offering a bold but calm defiance. But it is a still more exalted spectacle to see a man with a brave heart and flashing eye defy disaster and death; alone, in the consciousness of his own strength, meeting Fate as an adversary and gazing upon it eye to eye unterrified. Misfortune is like the lion of the desert. If a man with steady eye and firm step advances to meet him, he ceases to roar and lies down humbly at his feet; he recognizes and quails before man made in the likeness of God. You, my king, now offer this spectacle to the astonished world. Can you wonder that I, who am ever near you, are filled with devotion and adoration, and must at last give utterance to my emotion? I have seen your majesty on the bloody battle-field, and in the full consciousness of victory, but never have I seen the laurels which crown your brow so radiant as in these days of your misfortune and defeat. Never was the King of Prussia so great a hero, so glorious a couqueror, as during these last weeks of destitution and gloom. You have hungered with the hungry, you have frozen with the freezing; you have passed the long, weary nights upon your cannon or upon the hard, cold earth. You have divided your last drop of wine with the poor soldiers. You did this, sire; I was in your tent and witnessed it—I alone. You sat at your dinner—a piece of bread and one glass of Hungarian wine, the last in your possession. An officer entered with his report. You asked him if he had eaten. He said yes, but his pale, thin face contradicted his words. You, sire, broke off the half of your bread, you drank the half of your wine, then gave the rest to the officer, saying in an almost apologetic tone, ‘It is all that I have.’ Sire, on that day I did what since my youth I have not done—I wept like a child, and my every glance upon your nobel face was a prayer.”
“Enthusiast,” said the king, giving his hand to Le Catt with a kindly smile, “is the world so corrupt that so natural an act should excite surprise, and appear great and exalted? Are you astonished at that which is simply human? But look! There is a courier! He stops before the door of my peasant-palace. Quick, quick! Le Catt; let me know the news he brings.”
Le Catt hastened off, and returned at once with the dispatches.
Frederick took them with impatient haste, and while he read, his grave face lightened, and a happy, hopeful smile played once more upon his lips. “Ah, Le Catt,” said he, “I was a good prophet, and my hopes are about to be fulfilled. Europe is against me, but Asia is my ally. The barbarous Russians are my enemies, but the honest Turks and Tartars are my friends. This dispatch is from my ambassador Rexin. He is coming, accompanied by an ambassador of Tartary, and may be here in a few hours.”
“Where will your majesty receive him?” said Le Catt.