Nor dost thou play with him wantonly.
Thou art not for self; thy nature is generous and kind.
My beloved! Thou art munificent and unchanging.

* * * * *

"Give me happiness!" I begged with fierce longing.
And happiness I received from thee, thou Woman of Spain!

Notwithstanding the suggestion implied by this assurance, Lola always
insisted that her relations with the King were purely platonic. While
this view is a little difficult to accept, it is significant that
Ludwig's lawful spouse never objected to their "friendship." Her
Majesty, however, was of a placid temperament. Perhaps, too, she
thought that the fancy would not endure. If so, she was wrong, for,
with the passage of time, the newcomer was obviously consolidating her
position. "Lola Montez, of horse-whipping notoriety," remarked a
journalist, "appears to be increasing in favour at the Court of
Bavaria. The Queen calls her 'My dear,' and the ladies consider it
their duty to caress the one who has all the world of Munich at her
feet."

During the summer, Ludwig, divesting himself of the cares of state,
retired to his castle at Bruckenau, picturesquely situated in the
Fulda Forest; and Lola, attended by a squadron of Cuirassiers,
accompanied him to this retreat. There, as in the Nymphenburg Park,
Ludwig dreamed dreams, while Lola amused herself with the officers of
the escort. Halcyon days--and nights. They inspired His Majesty with
yet another "poem":

SONG OF WALHALLA

Through the holy dome, oh come,
Brothers, let us roam along;
Let from thousand throats the hum
Rise, like rivers, swift and strong!

When the notes have died away
Let us clasp each other's hand;
And, to high Heaven, let us pray
For our dearest Fatherland!

While she accorded it full value, Lola Montez did not depend on mere
beauty for her power. She had a markedly sadistic vein in her
composition; and, when annoyed, was not above laying about her right
and left with a dog-whip that she always carried. An impudent lackey
would be flogged into submission, or set upon by a fierce mastiff that
she kept at her heels. High office, too, meant nothing to her. She
boxed the ears of Baron Pechman; and, because he chanced to upset her,
she encouraged her four-coated companion to tear the best trousers of
Professor Lasaulx, the nephew of Goerrez, a Cabinet Minister.

Her English bulldog (with apparently