The queen raised her head, and her eyes flashed. "Sire," she said, quickly and proudly, "the glory of the great Frederick induced us to mistake our strength, if we were mistaken."
"You were mistaken, at least in your hopes that you could vanquish me," exclaimed Napoleon, sternly. But, as if struck by a sudden recollection, and meaning to apologize for his rudeness, he bowed, and added in a pleasant tone: "I refer to Prussia and not to you, queen. Your majesty is sure to vanquish every one. I was told that you were beautiful, and I find that you are the most charming lady in the world!"
"I am neither so vain as to believe that, nor so ambitious as to wish it," said the queen. "I have come hither as consort of the king, as mother of my children, and as representative of my people!"
"Ah," exclaimed Napoleon, politely, "Prussia may well be proud of so noble a representative."
"Sire, Prussia cannot be proud," replied the queen, sighing. "She weeps over her sons fallen on the fields of battle that brought laurels to you; to us nothing but defeat. She has lost her prosperity; her fields are devastated; her supplies consumed. She is looking despondingly toward the future, and all that remains to her is hope. Sire, let not this hope be in vain! Pardon us for not having feared your all-powerful genius and your victorious heroism! It was a terrible misfortune for us to have mistaken our strength; but we have been humbled for it. Let it be enough! You have made us feel the conqueror's hand; let us now feel and acknowledge your magnanimity! Your majesty cannot intend to trample in the dust those whom fortune has already so humbled. You will not take revenge for our errors—you will not deride and revile our majesty—for majesty, sire, is still enthroned on our heads. It is the sacred inheritance which we must bequeath to our children."
"Ah, your majesty will comprehend that I cannot feel much respect for such sacred inheritance," said Napoleon, sneeringly.
"But your majesty will respect our misfortunes," exclaimed Louisa. "Sire, adversity is a majesty, too, and consecrates its innocent children."
"Prussia has to blame none but herself for her calamities!" said Napoleon, vehemently.
"Does your majesty say so because we defended our country when we were attacked?" asked the queen, proudly. "Do you say so because, faithful to the treaties which we had sworn to observe, we refused to desert our ally for the sake of our own profit, but courageously drew the sword to protect his and our frontiers? Heaven decreed that we should not be victorious in this struggle, and our defeats became a new laurel-wreath for your brow. But now you will deem your triumphs sufficient, and will not think of taking advantage of our distress. I am told that your majesty has asked of the king, as the price of peace, the largest and best part of his states—that you intend taking from him his fortresses, cities, and provinces, leaving to him a crown without territory, a title without meaning—that you wish to distribute his subjects and provinces, and form of them new nations. But your majesty knows well that we cannot with impunity rob a people of their inalienable and noblest rights—of their nationality—give them arbitrary frontiers, and transform them into new states. Nationality is a sentiment inherent in the human heart, and our Prussians have proud hearts. They love their king, their country—"
"And above all their august queen," interrupted Napoleon, who wished to put an end to this appeal, and direct the conversation into less impetuous channels. "Oh, I know that all Prussia idolizes her beautiful queen, and henceforth I shall not wonder at it. Happy those who are permitted to bear your chains!"