The aldermen and senators looked significantly at each other, and the second burgomaster ventured timidly to suggest that the heavy wine might possibly be injurious to the health of his honor the chief burgomaster.

“Wine makes a man brave,” he drawled out, “and as long as the city fathers have good wine in their cellars, the citizens of Berlin may sleep in peace, for so long will the Council have the courage to brave the enemy!  Let me have wine, then, and be brave!” and again he emptied the replenished goblet.  He then stared complacently at the ceiling, and seemed lost in contemplation of the laurel-wreath painted above.

The second burgomaster then rose gently from his seat, and taking Gotzkowsky’s arm, led him with the two principal councillors to one of the more remote window-seats.  With a slight motion of the hand and a compassionate shrug of the shoulders, he pointed across to Herr von Kircheisen.

“Our poor oppressed chief wishes to acquire pot-valor,” said he, “and to stimulate himself into a delirium of firmness; but I am afraid that the delirium tremens of fear is the only kind that he will experience.  The poor man is very much to be pitied.  It is just at such a time, when presence of mind is most requisite, that the good burgomaster regularly loses his head, and his brain rushes off with him like a mad horse to death and destruction.”

“And such a man is the chief magistrate of the town of Berlin,” said Gotzkowsky, mournfully.

“The citizens chose him, and the king confirmed their choice,” said the burgomaster; “so we ought to be satisfied.  But now let us come to the subject which induced us to disturb your slumbers, my friend.  We need your counsel.  The Russians and Austrians both summon us to surrender, and the Council of Berlin wish your advice, Gotzkowsky, as to which of these two enemies they shall yield.”

“That is, by Heavens! a choice that the devil himself must envy us,” cried Gotzkowsky, with a sad smile.  “To which party shall we surrender?  To the Austrian, who wears the imperial German crown, and yet is the enemy of Germany! or to the Russian, the northern barbarian, whose delight it is to trample every human right in the dust!  Let me consider a little while, for it is a sad and painful choice.”  And Gotzkowsky strode up and down, absorbed in the deepest reflection.  Then turning to the gentlemen, after a long pause, he asked, “To whom shall we yield?  If my brother were among my enemies, I would fear him above all others; for a brother’s hatred is most unnatural, and, for that very reason, the most violent.  The Austrian is the German brother of the Prussian, and yet they are striving for the right of the first-born, instead of confederating for the general good in unity, in equal authority, equal power, and equal determination.  On the contrary, Austria allies herself to Russia, the sworn enemy of Germany, and with the assistance of this enemy fights against her German brothers.  Therefore, my opinion is that, if we really must surrender, and if the Prussian really must yield, let it not be to Austria.  Subjection to an equal is doubly humiliating.  It is less painful to suffer death at the hand of a barbarian than to be butchered by a brother.  I would, then, in this instance, give the preference to Russia.”