She cast on him a glance so contemptuous that Napoleon shrank, and lowered his eyes. "Sire," she said, "no one who bears chains is happy, and your majesty—who once said to the Italians, 'You need not fear me, for I have come to break your chains and to deliver you from degrading servitude!'—will not now reduce a state to servitude. For to wrest it from its legitimate sovereign, and to compel it to submit to another prince is chaining it—to distribute a people like merchandise, is reducing them to slavery. Sire, I dare beg your majesty to leave us our nationality and our honor! I dare beg you in the name of my children to leave them their inheritance and their rights."
"Their rights?" asked Napoleon. "Only he has them who knows how to maintain them. What do you call the rights of your children?"
"Sire, I refer to their birth, their name, and history. By their birth, God conferred on them the right to rule over Prussia. And the Prussian monarchy is rooted in the hearts of the people. Oh, your majesty, do not overthrow it! Honor in us the crown adorning your own victorious head! Sovereigns ought to respect each other, that their people may never lose the respect due to them; sovereigns ought to support and strengthen each other, to enable them to meet their enemies now carried away by the insane ideas of a so-called new era—ideas that brought the heads of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette to the scaffold. Sire, princes are not always safe, and harmony among them is indispensable; but it is not strengthening one's own power to weaken that of others—it is not adding lustre to one's own crown to tarnish another's. O sire; in the name of all monarchies—nay, in the name of your own, now shedding so radiant a light over the whole world, I pray for our crown, our people, and our frontiers!"
"The Prussians," said Napoleon, rising, "could not have found a more beautiful and eloquent advocate than your majesty!"
He paced the room several times, his hands folded behind him. The queen had also risen, but she stood still, and looked in breathless suspense at Napoleon, whose cold face seemed to warm a little with humane emotion. He approached, and fixed his eyes in admiration on her sad but noble countenance. "Your majesty," he said, "I believe you have told me many things which no one hitherto has ventured to tell me—many things which might have provoked my anger—some bitter words, and prophetic threats have fallen from your lips. This proves that you at least respect my character, and that you believe I will not abuse the position to which the fortune of war has elevated me. I will not disappoint you, madame. I will do all I can to mitigate your misfortunes, and to let Prussia remain as powerful as is compatible with my policy and with my obligations to my old and new friends. I regret that she refused to enter into an alliance with me, and that I vainly offered my friendship to her more than once. It is no fault of mine that your majesty has to bear the consequences of this refusal, but I will try to ameliorate them as much as I can. I cannot restore your old frontiers; I cannot deliver your country entirely from the burdens and calamities of war, and preserve it from the tribute which the conqueror must impose upon the vanquished, in order to receive some compensation for the blood that was shed. I will always remember that the Queen of Prussia is not only the most fascinating, but also the most high-minded, courageous, and generous lady in the world, and that one cannot do homage enough to her magnanimity and intelligence. I promise your majesty that I am quite willing to comply with all your wishes as far as I can. Inform me, therefore, of them; it will be best for you to be quite frank with me. We shall try to become good friends, and, as a token of this friendship, I take the liberty to offer you this flower, which bears so striking a resemblance to you." He took a full-blown moss-rose from the porcelain vase standing on the table, and presented it to her. "Will you accept this pledge of friendship at my hands?"
The queen hesitated. It was repugnant to her noble and proud heart to receive so sentimental a gift from him to whom her heart never could grant true friendship. She slowly raised her eyes and looked almost timidly into his smiling face. "Sire," she said in a low voice, "add to this pledge of your friendship still another, that I may accept the rose."
The smile faded from Napoleon's face, and anger darkened his forehead. "Remember, madame," he said harshly, "that it is I who command, and that you have but the choice to decline or to accept. Will you accept this rose?"
"Sire," said the queen, with quivering lips and tearful eyes, "give it to me with another pledge of your friendship. Give me Magdeburg for my children."
Napoleon threw the rose on the table. "Ah, madame," he said, vehemently, "Magdeburg is no toy for children!" He turned around and paced the room repeatedly, while Louisa hung her head, and looked resigned as a martyr ready to suffer death. Napoleon glanced at her as he passed, and the spectacle exhibited by this aggrieved, and yet so dignified and gentle a queen, touched him; for it reminded him of Josephine. He stood still in front of her. "Forgive my impulsiveness," he said; "I cannot give you Magdeburg, but you may rest assured that I will do all I can to lessen your calamities, and to fulfil your request. The Emperor Alexander is aware of my wishes; he knows that I am desirous to serve the King of Prussia. I should like to repeat this to your husband himself if he were here."
"He is here," said the queen, hastily; "and with your majesty's permission he will be with us immediately."