with bitter and cruel remembrances, as in an iron coffin, from which
all escape was impossible. An angel drew near, and laid her soft,
fine hand upon my coffin, my wounds were healed, my youth revived,
and I dared hope in happiness and a future. At first, I would not
confess this to myself. At first, I thought to smother this new
birth of my heart in the mourning veil of my past experience; but my
heart was like a giant in his first manhood, and cast off all
restraint; like Hercules in his cradle, he strangled the serpents
which were hissing around him. It was indeed a painful happiness to
know that I had again a heart, that I was capable of feeling the
rapture and the pain, the longing, the hopes and fears, the
enthusiasm and exaltation, the doubt and the despair which make the
passion of love, and I have to thank you, Wilhelmina--you alone,
you, my wife, for this new birth. You turn away your head,
Wilhelmina! You smile derisively! It is true I have not the right to
call you my wife. You are free to spurn me from you, to banish me
forever into that cold, desert region to which I fled in the madness
and blindness of my despair. But think well, princess; if you do
this, you cast a shadow over my life. It is my whole future which I
lay at your feet, a future for which fate perhaps intends great
duties and greater deeds. I cannot fulfil these duties, I can
perform no heroic deed, unless you, princess, grant me the blessing
of happiness. I shall be a silent, unknown, and useless prince, the
sad and pitiful hanger-on of a throne, despised and unloved, a
burden only to my people, unless you give freedom and strength to my
sick soul, which lies a prisoner at your feet. Wilhelmina, put an
end to the tortures of the last few months, release me from the
curse which binds my whole life in chains; speak but one word, and I
shall have strength to govern the world, and prove to you that I am
worthy of you. I will force the stars from heaven, and place them as