quite near the throne which has
been erected upon the square fronting the palace. On the throne sits King
Wladislaus in the rich national costume. Beside him stands his brother,
Prince Casimir, while to the right and left on the steps of the throne
stand the magnates with their insignia of rank, the bishops and prelates.
Close behind the throne is the kingly palace, and there, upon a balcony
hung with gold brocade, stands the Queen; to the right and left of her the
two royal Princesses, both so lovely to look upon in their picturesque
Polish garb, their raven tresses surmounted by the Polish cap with its
heron's plumes.

Oh, King's daughter, King's daughter, you need not fear, you are so
charming, so attractive; surely you will win his heart, and he will woo
you not merely from political motives, but from love!

Does he see you, and is he looking up at you? No, he only looks up at the
King as he now stands at the foot of the throne, beside that magnificent
cushion studded with emeralds and pearls. His knights and bodyguard range
themselves to the right and left of the throne, and reserve a small open
space in the midst of the broad square, which is densely thronged by
masses of people behind the closed ranks of the soldiers. In this small
vacant space stands he, the young Elector of Brandenburg!

High is his head, radiant the glance which he now lifts higher than the
King's throne. Looks he at you, Princess Hildegarde, gazes he upon you,
fair maiden of a royal line?

No, his glance mounts higher; to heaven itself he raises both eye and
thought! He communes with God and the forefathers of his house, who once,
like him, stood at the foot of that throne. And he vows before God and his
ancestors that he will be the last Hohenzollern to submit to such
humiliation and bend the knee as vassal to the Polish King. He will free
his land and crown, and be the vassal of none but God alone!

So swore the Elector Frederick William as he stood at the foot of the
throne on which sat the Polish King, resplendent with his crown and
scepter, and this oath made his countenance beam with joy and his eyes
flame with energy and spirit.

Now is heard the flourish of trumpets and kettledrums, and the bell of
every tower in Warsaw rings, for the solemn act begins: the Duke of
Prussia is to swear allegiance to the King of Poland!

Three cannon thunder from the ramparts! The bells grow dumb, the trumpets
and drums are silent! A breathless s