life (in Dresden!), he needs a change and a long rest
from drinking and carousing, he says boastingly.

Of course, while he is here, I dare not invite the Vitzthums. But as
soon as he is gone, they shall come for a couple of weeks, and their
presence will make Henry's possible.

It's dreadful the way I miss the sweet boy. I suffer like a dog, when
the longing seizes me, suffer both in heart and body. When I contemplate
his miniature, tears come into my eyes. I often cry for hours thinking
of him.

And to have to endure this great booby of a husband of mine day and
night, especially nights. It's almost more than I can bear.

The grossness of his egotism reminds me of the story told of King James,
whom the English got rid of in 1689.

The Dutch William, instead of waiting peacefully for the heritage of his
father-in-law, went to claim it before his death, and James, pressed on
all sides by enemies, decided upon flight.

One Sunday, in the month of December, his devotions over, he dismissed
all his servants and advised his last partisans to turn towards the
rising sun.

After which, he lay for an hour with his wife, the better to take leave
of her."

The very thing Frederick Augustus would do if war or revolution made us
fugitives.

I never realized the diversity in our natures as much as I do now, when
all my thoughts go out to another, when even connubial tendernesses seem
like whip-strokes.

The further our souls draw apart, the more disgusting this forced
intimacy, the prostitution under the marriage vow, which I detest and
abhor.

But what will I do? Shut my door to him? He would kick it in, or climb
through the window. It's easier to submit to the violation of my person
than to breaking of locks and furniture.

CHAPTER XLVII

LOVE'S INTERMEZZO

Bernhardt takes advantage of my day-dreams--My husband's indolent
_gaucherie_--Violent love-making--Ninon who loved families, not
men--Does Bernhardt really love me?

LOSCHWITZ, _April 10, 1901_.

Fortunately Bernhardt came for a few days to relieve the monotony of my
alcove life _par le droit du plus fort_.

Tall stories of dissipation, indiscipline, scandal, had preceded the
poor fellow. No doubt, his military superiors got orders to make his
life as unhappy as they possibly can, and he retaliates.

The Prince told me that, at last, he had succeeded arranging for an
audience with the King. His Majesty had denied himself to Ber