Go try repentance with God; here it is of no
avail. This reformation, madame, must commence at once. You will
leave Berlin to-morrow, and will not return till the king himself
sends for you."
"I go!" said Madame von Brandt, weeping bitterly; "I go! but I carry
death in my heart, not because I am banished, but because I deserve
my punishment; because I have wounded the heart of my king, and my
soul withers under his contempt."
"Mary Magdalene," said Frederick, "truly you have a wondrous talent
for acting; a hint is enough for you, and you master your part at
once. But, madame, it is useless to act before the king; he will
neither credit your tears nor your repentance; he would remember
your crimes and pronounce your sentence. Hasten, then, to your place
of atonement. There you may turn saint, and curse the vain and giddy
world. Here is your letter--farewell!"
The king hastened away, and Madame von Brandt, weeping from shame
and humiliation, remained alone. The king passed rapidly through the
crowded saloon and stepped on the balcony; he had seen the nun
following him, and she came upon the balcony; he tore off his mask,
and confronting the trembling woman, he said, in a harsh voice.
"What do you want with me?"
"Your love," cried the nun, sinking upon her knees and raising her
hands imploringly to the king; "I want the love you once promised
me--the love which is my earthly happiness and my salvation--your
love, without which I must die; wanting which, I suffer the tortures
of purgatory!"
"Then suffer," said the king, harshly; retreating a few steps--"go
and suffer; endure the torments of purgatory, you deserve them; God
will not deliver you, nor will I.
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