The two years spent in Koenigsberg were years of remarkable development in Kleist’s literary power.  Warned by the catastrophe of the earlier attempt to reach the heights at a single bound, he now schooled himself with simpler tasks:  adaptations, from the French, of La Fontaine’s poem, The two Pigeons, and of Moliere’s comedy, Amphitryon—­both so altered in the interpretation that they seem more like originals than translations; prose tales that are admirable examples of this form—­The Marquise of O., The Earthquake in Chili, and the first part of the masterly short story Michael Kohlhaas; and the recasting of the unique comedy The Broken Jug.  Finally he attempted another great drama in verse, Penthesilea, embodying in the old classical story the tragedy of his own desperate struggle for Guiscard, and his crushing defeat.

Meanwhile the clouds were gathering about his beloved country, and in October, 1806, the thunderbolt fell in the rout of the Prussian army at Jena.  Napoleon’s victorious troops pressed on to Berlin and the Prussian court retreated with the tide of fugitives to Koenigsberg.  Kleist was overwhelmed by the misery of this cataclysm, which, however, he had clearly foreseen and foretold.  With a group of friends he started on foot for Dresden, but was arrested as a spy at the gates of Berlin and held for months as a prisoner in French fortresses, before the energetic efforts of Ulrica and others procured his release.

Late in July, 1807, he finally arrived in Dresden, where he remained until April, 1809.  These were the happiest and the most prolific months of his fragmentary life.  The best literary and social circles of the Saxon capital were open to him, his talent was recognized by the leading men of the city, a laurel wreath was placed upon his brow by “the prettiest hands in Dresden;” at last he found all his hopes being realized.  With three friends he embarked on an ambitious publishing enterprise, which included the issuing of a sumptuous literary and artistic monthly, the Phoebus.  This venture was foredoomed to failure by the inexperience of its projectors and by the unsettled condition of a time full of political upheaval and most unfavorable to any literary enterprise.  Kleist’s own contributions to this periodical were of the highest value; here appeared first in print generous portions of Penthesilea, The Broken Jug, and the new drama Kitty of Heilbronn, the first act of the ill-fated Robert Guiscard, evidently reproduced from memory, The Marquise of O., and part of Michael Kohlhaas.  If we add to these works the great patriotic drama, Arminius (Die Hermannsschlacht), two tales, The Betrothal in San Domingo and The Foundling, and lyric and narrative poems, the production of the brief period in Dresden is seen to bulk very large.