as if to suppress a wild shriek of agony,
which are only unclosed to utter cold, harsh words of scorn and passion?
Do you know this woman? Has this poor, unhappy, deformed being any
resemblance to the gay, beautiful, intellectual Princess Amelia, whom
we once knew? and yet this is the Princess Amelia. How have the mighty
fallen! Look at the transforming power of a few sorrowful years! The
sister of a mighty hero king, but a poor desolate creature, shunned and
avoided by all: she knows that men fly from her, and she will have it
so; she will be alone--lonely in the midst of the world, even as he is,
in the midst of his dark and gloomy prison. Amelia calls the whole world
her prison; she often says to herself that her soul is shut in behind
the iron bars of her body and can never be delivered, that her heart
lies upon the burning gridiron of the base world, and cannot escape, it
is bound there with the same chains which are around about and hold him
in captivity.

But Amelia says this only to herself, she desires no sympathy, she
knows no one will dare to pity her. Destiny placed her high in rank and
alone--alone she will remain; her complaints might perhaps bring new
danger to him she loves, of whom alone she thinks, for whose sake alone
she supports existence, she lives only for him. Can this be called life?
A perpetual hope--and yet hopeless--a constant watching and listening
for one happy moment, which never comes! She had not been permitted
to live for him, she would not die without him. So long as he lived
he might need her aid, and might call upon her for help in the hour of
extremest need, so she would not die.

She was not wholly dead, but her youth, her heart, her peace, her
illusions, her hopes were dead; she was opposed to all that lived, to
the world, to all mankind. In the wide world she loved but two persons:
one, who languished in prison and who suffered for her sake, Frederick
von Trenck; the other, he who had made her wretched and who had the
power to liberate Trenck and restore their peace--the king. Amelia had
loved her mother, but she was dead; grief at the lost battle of Collin
killed her. She had loved her sister, the Margravine of Baireuth; but
she died of despair at the lost battle of Hochkirch. Grief and the anger
and contempt of the king had killed her brother, the Prince Augustus
William of Prussia. She was therefore alone, alone! Her other sisters
were far away; they were happy, and with the