The Daughter of an Empress
Page 100Two years had elapsed since Elizabeth's accession to the throne; for
her, two years of pleasure and enjoyment, only troubled here and there
with occasional small clouds of ill-humor--but those clouds overshadowed
only her domestic peace. It was not the affairs of state, not the
interests of her people, that troubled and saddened Elizabeth; she asked
not how many of her subjects the war with Sweden had swept away; how
many had fallen a sacrifice to hunger in the southern provinces of
her realm. She had quite other cares and anxieties than those which
concerned only her ministers, not herself. What have princes to do with
the happiness of their people.
Elizabeth was a consummate princess; she thought only of her own
severe, very incurable sorrow that visited her--a sorrow that often
brought tears of anger into her eyes and curses upon her lips. Elizabeth
was jealous--jealous not of this or that woman, but of the whole sex.
She glowingly desired to be the fairest of all women, and constantly
trembled lest some one should come to rob her of the prize of beauty.
And were there not, in her own court, women who might venture to enter
the lists with her? Was there not, before all, one woman whose aspect
filled the heart of the empress with a thirst for vengeance, of whom
she was compelled to say that she was younger, handsomer, and more
attractive than herself--and this one, was it not Eleonore Lapuschkin?
jealousy; for two long years had she in vain sought to discover some
punishable fault in her rival; for two long years had she in vain
reminded Lestocq of his promise to find Eleonore Lapuschkin guilty of
some crime. She had come out pure from all these persecuting pursuits,
and even the eyes of the most zealous spy could find no blot upon
her escutcheon. Like a royal lily she proudly bloomed with undisputed
splendor in the midst of this court, whose petty cabals and intrigues
could not soil her fair fame. Her presence spread around her a sort
of magic. The most audacious courtier, the most presumptuous cavalier,
approached her with only reverence; they ventured not in her presence to
something in Eleonore's glance that commanded involuntary respect and
awe; an elevation, a mildness, a soft feminine majesty was shed over
her whole being that enchanted even those who were inimical to her.
Elizabeth had perceived that, with her eyes sharpened by jealousy; her
envy was yet more mighty than her vanity, and her envy told her Eleonore
Lapuschkin is handsomer than the Empress Elizabeth; wherever Eleonore
appears, there all hearts fly to meet her, all glances incline to her;
every one feels a sort of ecstasy of adoration whom she greets with a
word or a smile, for that word or that smile sanctifies him as it were,
and enrolls him among the noblest and best.