“That would give me no pleasure, sire!” cried Gotzkowsky, with noble indignation.  “Your majesty must not think so meanly of me as to suppose that I would make a profit out of the misfortunes of others, and that I have interceded for the poor Leipsigers in order to make a trade out of them!”

“I think that you are a hard-headed, obstinate fellow, who must be allowed to have his own way,” said the king, with an affable smile.  “But I must bear you witness that, in your own way, you have rendered me many a good service.  For that reason, you will always find me well affected toward you, and in the Sans-Souci gallery you have created a beautiful memorial to yourself.”

“If your majesty would come there now, you would find the Correggio about which you wrote to the Marquis d’Argens.”

The king’s eyes sparkled.  “The Correggio is mine!” said he, walking up and down slowly, with his hands behind his back.  “Ah,” added he, after a long pause, in a low tone, as if speaking to himself, “when will this nomadic life cease, and the world be at peace, to allow this poor, badgered king a few hours of leisure and recreation, to enjoy the contemplation of his house and his pictures?  The wandering Jew, if he ever existed, did not lead such a rambling life as I do.  We get at last to be like the roving play-actors, who have neither hearth nor home, and thus we pass through the world, playing our bloody tragedies, with the wailings of our subjects for chorus.[2] When will it end?”

“When your majesty has subdued all your enemies.”

The king looked around with surprise—­he had quite forgotten Gotzkowsky.  “Ah! are you still there? and you prophesy me victory?  Well, that will be as good to me as the Leipsic money.  Go back home, and tell the Leipsigers to hurry with the money.  And hark ye! when you get to Potsdam, greet the Correggio, and tell him I yearn for him as a lover does for his mistress Adieu!”

[Footnote 1:  Porcelain-making was then a great secret in Germany, only known in Meissen; the process being conducted with closed doors, and the foreman bound by oath.  Gotzkowsky paid ten thousand dollars down, a life income of a thousand dollars, and house and firewood free.—­“Life of a Patriotic Merchant,” p. 87.]

[Footnote 2:  “Correspondance de Frederic II. avec le Comte Algarottis.”]

* * * * *

CHAPTER IV.

GRATITUDE AND RECOMPENSE.

Thus did Gotzkowsky save unfortunate Leipsic from the heavy burden which weighed her down.  The prisoners were released, and the merchants gave a bond, for whose punctual and prompt payment Gotzkowsky guaranteed with his signature.