It was unheard-of rudeness to keep the King and Queen waiting. The guests sat in painful suspense, watching the door for the entrance of the Frenchman; but they watched in vain. He did not come. Count Flemming was in despair at the ruin of the evening’s pleasure. With the King’s consent a courier was despatched to Marchand’s residence, who returned with the disagreeable intelligence that the Frenchman had left Dresden, post-haste, early in the morning. The news fell like a bombshell in their midst. The King was angry, the Court excited, the German musicians quietly satisfied. Bach alone appeared unmoved and uninterested in the intelligence. It was a matter of course to him that whenever a contest between French music and German music was proposed, French music would run away.
One of the King’s pages again approached Bach and said: “His Majesty desires to speak with you.”
Sebastian quietly followed the boy. Standing before the royal pair, he bowed low to the King and lower still to the gentle Queen Ebahardine, and modestly awaited their pleasure. The King scanned the calm, earnest face of the young master, which had not a trace of the embarrassment usually shown by persons summoned before his Majesty, and with flashing eyes and much excitement said, “Your rival, Monsieur Marchand, has not come to measure his skill against yours. What do you think of his conduct?”
“I can only think there must have been very strong reasons for his non-appearance before Your Majesty.”
“You do not think that he is afraid to enter the contest with you?”
“It would not be becoming for me to think so,” replied Bach, with some hesitation. “Monsieur Marchand is a very accomplished musician and excellent player. I would not assume that he is unable to improvise on a given theme. He may have refused my challenge.”
“You think and talk like an honorable man,” replied the King. “But as Marchand, whatever may be his reasons, is not here, may we not have the pleasure of hearing the other contestant? Will you not give us a specimen of your skill in variations on some theme to be given you?”
“I shall be very glad to do so, Your Majesty.”
“Well, then,” said Friedrich August, addressing the Queen, “will Your Majesty give Bach a theme?”
The noble Princess, not accustomed to have attention shown her by her usually indifferent consort, blushed slightly, but after a little reflection, said: “The year in which we live revives gracious memories of our venerated Doctor Martin Luther and his majestic hymn, ‘Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott’ (‘A Strong Castle is our God’). Will you take that chorale for your theme?”