the Electoral Prince of Hesse has come to marry me.  They have already made arrangements, and got everything in readiness.  Day after to-morrow is to be the day for his formal wooing, and if you do not save me, if you know of no way of escape, then in eight days I shall be the bride of the Electoral Prince of Hesse.  I had planned, Frederick, to try you first—­to hear from yourself whether you actually loved me, whether your love was earnest.  Had I discovered that you were only making sport of my heart, had you not formally offered me your hand and sued for me as your wife, then would I have gone silently away, would have buried my love in the depths of my soul, sacrificed myself to my mother’s wishes and the misfortune of my house, and become the wife of the Electoral Prince of Hesse.  But you do love me, you offer me your hand, and now I confess my love openly and joyfully—­now I cast myself in your arms and entreat you:  Save me, my Frederick, do not let them tear me away from you!  Save me from the Electoral Prince of Hesse!”

She flung both her arms around him, pressed him closely to her, and looked up to him with tenderly beseeching eye.  With passionate warmth the Electoral Prince kissed those alluring eyes and lips responding to his pressure.  “You shall be mine, you must be mine, for I love you inexpressibly.  I can not, I will not live without you!”

“Let us fly, my beloved,” whispered she, always holding him in her embrace.

“Let us fly before the wrath of your father, before the courtship of the Electoral Prince of Hesse.  Let us preserve our love in some quiet corner of the earth; let us fly where no one can follow us, where your father’s will and his minister’s hate can have no power—­let us fly!”

“Yes,” said he, clasping closer in his arms the tender, glowing creature who clung so affectionately to him—­“yes, let us fly, my beloved.  They shall not tear you from me; I will have you, in spite of them all—­you shall be mine, even though the whole world should rise up in opposition.  To-morrow night let us make our escape.  You are right; there must be some quiet corner of the world where we can hide ourselves, living for happiness, for love alone, until it is permitted us to emerge from our seclusion, and assume the station in the world due to us both.  Yes, we will flee, Ludovicka, we will flee, no matter where!”

“Oh, I hope I know a place of refuge, where we may be sheltered from the first wrath of our relatives, my Frederick.  I have friends, influential, mighty friends, who will gladly furnish us with an asylum, and from whom we may accept it.  To them I shall turn—­to them apply for a retreat.  They will provide us with the means for flight.  Only, my beloved,” she continued, hesitating and with downcast eyes, “only one thing is needful to enable me to flee with you.”

“What is that, my beloved, tell me?”

“Frederick, I can only follow my husband, only go with you as your wife.”