in mirth and pleasure. I did not
succeed. The sacred old song of the buried love was forever making itself
heard in low, sweet strains. I would not listen, I tried to drown it. I
became a conspirator, a rebel, for I longed to take vengeance upon you and
your house. Fate was against me; my revenge constituting my punishment. I
must flee, I must leave as a fugitive the land in which you live. The
Emperor received me graciously, giving me rank and titles, and bestowing
upon me marks of favor and regard, thus opening to the ambitious heart a
career of fame, dignity, and honor. All was in vain, though. I felt too
late that love, not ambition, had urged me into the dangerous paths of
insurrection and revolt. I could not forget you. Like a radiant star, you
ever shone upon the midnight darkness of my soul. I must see you again, to
obtain from your own lips my sentence of pardon or condemnation. I
despised all danger, even the order of arrest issued against me, and
obtained the Emperor's leave to accompany his ambassador here. I came and
suffered the severest mortification that a man can suffer. I subjected
myself to your brother's scorn and contempt. Then at last my heart
rebelled, and when he scornfully refused your hand to me, I claimed it as
my right, by virtue of the love you once vowed to me. The Elector disputed
your love for me, and then, in the rage of my heart, I boasted of a favor
which I never received, boasted of having received from you a letter, and
an invitation to a rendezvous. Oh, forgive the madman who kneels here at
your feet and suffers the agony of death. He has no right to claim
anything, he only implores from you an act of grace!"

While the count thus spoke in passionate excitement, the Elector had
slowly retired, and, standing apart with folded arms, gazed upon the
couple with melancholy eyes. In the beginning the Princess had sunk upon a
chair, with bowed head and hanging arms, pale as a drooping lily. But the
glowing words which fell upon her ear seemed to find an echo, a painful
echo, in her heart. Slowly she raised her head, and breathlessly listened
to his words, while the color once more mounted to her cheek. When the
count stopped, she slowly rose and proudly and indignantly drew herself
erect.

"You speak falsely now, Count Schwarzenberg," she said, "for what you told
my brother was true. Yes, three years ago, in the childish folly of my
heart, I granted you a favor unseemly for a modest maiden