“A heart of steel, a head of iron,” said the king to himself.  “He will be very happy, or very wretched.  For such natures there is no middle way.  Alas!  I fear it had been better for him if I had dismissed him, and—­” Frederick did not complete his sentence; he sighed deeply, and his brow was clouded.  He stepped to his writing-table and took up a large sealed envelope, opened and read it carefully.  A sad smile played upon his lips.  “Poor Amelia!” said he--"poor sister!  They have chosen you to be assistant Abbess of Quedlinburg.  A miserable alternative for the Swedish throne, which was in your power!  Well, I will sign this paper.”  He took the pen and hastily wrote his name upon the diploma.  “If she is resolved never to marry, she will be one day Abbess of Quedlinburg—­that is something.  Aurora of Konigsmark was content with that, but only after she had reached the height of earthly grandeur.”

Frederick was completely unmanned by these painful thoughts.  He raised his eyes to heaven, and said in a low tone:  “Poor human heart! why has Fate made you so soft, when you must become stone in order to support the disappointments and anguish of life?” He stood bowed down for a long time, in deep thought; then suddenly rising proudly erect, he exclaimed:  “Away with such cares!  I have no time to play the considerate and amiable father to my family.  My kingly duty and service call me with trumpet tones.”

CHAPTER IX.

The council of war.

Frederick stepped from the room into the adjoining saloon, where his ministers and generals were assembled for a council of war.  His expression was calm and clear, and an imposing fire and earnestness lighted up his eyes.  He was again the king, and the conqueror, and his voice rang out martially: 

“The days of comfort and repose are over; we have reasoned and diplomatized too long; we must now move and strike.  I am surfeited with this contest of pen and ink.  I am weary of Austrian cunning and intrigue.  In these weighty and important matters I will not act alone upon my own convictions; I will listen to your opinions and receive your counsel:  I will not declare war until you say that an honorable peace is no longer possible.  I will unsheath the sword only when the honor of my throne and of my people demands it, and even then with a heavy heart; for I know what burdens and bitter woes it will bring upon my poor land.  Let us therefore carefully read, weigh, and understand the paper which lies upon the table, and fulfil the duties which it lays upon us.”

Frederick stepped to the table and seated himself.  The generals, the old Dessauer, Ziethen, Winterfeld, and the king’s favorite, Rothenberg, with the ministers and councillor of state, placed themselves silently around the table.  The eyes of all these experienced men, accustomed to battle and to victory, were steadily fixed upon the king.  His youthful countenance alone was clear and bright; not a shadow was seen upon his brow.