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+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+ <head>
+ <title>
+ A BURLESQUE AUTOBIOGRAPHY and, FIRST ROMANCE by Mark Twain
+ </title>
+ <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+ body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify}
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+ hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+ .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
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+ .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+ .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+ .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;}
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+ <br /><br />
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+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+Project Gutenberg's A Burlesque Autobiography, by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens)
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Burlesque Autobiography
+
+Author: Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens)
+
+Release Date: April, 2002 [Etext #3175]
+Last Updated: February 24, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BURLESQUE AUTOBIOGRAPHY ***
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+ <h1>
+ A BURLESQUE AUTOBIOGRAPHY<br /><br /> and, FIRST ROMANCE
+ </h1>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ <h2>
+ by Mark Twain
+ </h2>
+ <h3>
+ 1871 <br /> <br />
+ </h3>
+ <hr />
+ <p>
+ <br /> <br />
+ </p>
+ <h2>
+ Contents
+ </h2>
+ <table summary="&rdquo; style=" cellpadding="4&rdquo; border=">
+ <tr>
+ <td>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>BURLESQUE AUTOBIOGRAPHY</b> </a>
+ </p>
+ <br />
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>AWFUL, TERRIBLE MEDIEVAL ROMANCE</b>
+ </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. THE SECRET REVEALED. </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. FESTIVITY AND TEARS </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. THE PLOT THICKENS. </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. THE AWFUL REVELATION. </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. THE FRIGHTFUL CATASTROPHE. </a>
+ </p>
+ </td>
+ </tr>
+ </table>
+ <p>
+ <br /> <br />
+ </p>
+ <hr />
+ <p>
+ <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h1>
+ BURLESQUE AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
+ </h1>
+ <p>
+ Two or three persons having at different times intimated that if I would
+ write an autobiography they would read it, when they got leisure, I yield
+ at last to this frenzied public demand, and herewith tender my history:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ours is a noble old house, and stretches a long way back into antiquity.
+ The earliest ancestor the Twains have any record of was a friend of the
+ family by the name of Higgins. This was in the eleventh century, when our
+ people were living in Aberdeen, county of Cork, England. Why it is that
+ our long line has ever since borne the maternal name (except when one of
+ them now and then took a playful refuge in an alias to avert foolishness),
+ instead of Higgins, is a mystery which none of us has ever felt much
+ desire to stir. It is a kind of vague, pretty romance, and we leave it
+ alone. All the old families do that way.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Arthour Twain was a man of considerable note&mdash;a solicitor on the
+ highway in William Rufus' time. At about the age of thirty he went
+ to one of those fine old English places of resort called Newgate, to see
+ about something, and never returned again. While there he died suddenly.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Augustus Twain, seems to have made something of a stir about the year
+ 1160. He was as full of fun as he could be, and used to take his old sabre
+ and sharpen it up, and get in a convenient place on a dark night, and
+ stick it through people as they went by, to see them jump. He was a born
+ humorist. But he got to going too far with it; and the first time he was
+ found stripping one of these parties, the authorities removed one end of
+ him, and put it up on a nice high place on Temple Bar, where it could
+ contemplate the people and have a good time. He never liked any situation
+ so much or stuck to it so long.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Then for the next two hundred years the family tree shows a succession of
+ soldiers&mdash;noble, high-spirited fellows, who always went into battle
+ singing; right behind the army, and always went out a-whooping, right
+ ahead of it.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ This is a scathing rebuke to old dead Froissart's poor witticism
+ that our family tree never had but one limb to it, and that that one stuck
+ out at right angles, and bore fruit winter, and summer.
+ </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ ||=======|====
+ || |
+ || |
+ || O
+ || / || \
+ || ||
+ || ||
+ ||
+ ||
+ ||
+ OUR FAMILY TREE
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ Early in the fifteenth century we have Beau Twain, called &ldquo;the
+ Scholar.&rdquo; He wrote a beautiful, beautiful hand. And he could imitate
+ anybody's hand so closely that it was enough to make a person laugh
+ his head off to see it. He had infinite sport with his talent. But by and
+ by he took a contract to break stone for a road, and the roughness of the
+ work spoiled his hand. Still, he enjoyed life all the time he was in the
+ stone business, which, with inconsiderable intervals, was some forty-two
+ years. In fact, he died in harness. During all those long years he gave
+ such satisfaction that he never was through with one contract a week till
+ government gave him another. He was a perfect pet. And he was always a
+ favorite with his fellow-artists, and was a conspicuous member of their
+ benevolent secret society, called the Chain Gang. He always wore his hair
+ short, had a preference for striped clothes, and died lamented by the
+ government. He was a sore loss to his country. For he was so regular.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Some years later we have the illustrious John Morgan Twain. He came over
+ to this country with Columbus in 1492, as a passenger. He appears to have
+ been of a crusty, uncomfortable disposition. He complained of the food all
+ the way over, and was always threatening to go ashore unless there was a
+ change. He wanted fresh shad. Hardly a day passed over his head that he
+ did not go idling about the ship with his nose in the air, sneering about
+ the commander, and saying he did not believe Columbus knew where he was
+ going to or had ever been there before. The memorable cry of &ldquo;Land
+ ho!&rdquo; thrilled every heart in the ship but his. He gazed a while
+ through a piece of smoked glass at the penciled line lying on the distant
+ water, and then said: &ldquo;Land be hanged,&mdash;it's a raft!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ When this questionable passenger came on board the ship, he brought
+ nothing with him but an old newspaper containing a handkerchief marked
+ &ldquo;B. G.,&rdquo; one cotton sock marked &ldquo;L. W. C.&rdquo; one
+ woollen one marked &ldquo;D. F.&rdquo; and a night-shirt marked &ldquo;O.
+ M. R.&rdquo; And yet during the voyage he worried more about his &ldquo;trunk,&rdquo;
+ and gave himself more airs about it, than all the rest of the passengers
+ put together.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ If the ship was &ldquo;down by the head,&rdquo; and would not steer, he
+ would go and move his &ldquo;trunk&rdquo; farther aft, and then watch the
+ effect. If the ship was &ldquo;by the stern,&rdquo; he would suggest to
+ Columbus to detail some men to &ldquo;shift that baggage.&rdquo; In storms
+ he had to be gagged, because his wailings about his &ldquo;trunk&rdquo;
+ made it impossible for the men to hear the orders. The man does not appear
+ to have been openly charged with any gravely unbecoming thing, but it is
+ noted in the ship's log as a &ldquo;curious circumstance&rdquo; that
+ albeit he brought his baggage on board the ship in a newspaper, he took it
+ ashore in four trunks, a queensware crate, and a couple of champagne
+ baskets. But when he came back insinuating in an insolent, swaggering way,
+ that some of his things were missing, and was going to search the other
+ passengers' baggage, it was too much, and they threw him overboard.
+ They watched long and wonderingly for him to come up, but not even a
+ bubble rose on the quietly ebbing tide. But while every one was most
+ absorbed in gazing over the side, and the interest was momentarily
+ increasing, it was observed with consternation that the vessel was adrift
+ and the anchor cable hanging limp from the bow. Then in the ship's
+ dimmed and ancient log we find this quaint note:
+ </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+ &ldquo;In time it was discouvered yt ye troblesome passenger hadde
+ gonne downe and got ye anchor, and toke ye same and solde it to
+ ye dam sauvages from ye interior, saying yt he hadde founde it,
+ ye sonne of a ghun!&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+ <p>
+ Yet this ancestor had good and noble instincts, and it is with pride that
+ we call to mind the fact that he was the first white person who ever
+ interested himself in the work of elevating and civilizing our Indians. He
+ built a commodious jail and put up a gallows, and to his dying day he
+ claimed with satisfaction that he had had a more restraining and elevating
+ influence on the Indians than any other reformer that ever labored among
+ them. At this point the chronicle becomes less frank and chatty, and
+ closes abruptly by saying that the old voyager went to see his gallows
+ perform on the first white man ever hanged in America, and while there
+ received injuries which terminated in his death.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The great grandson of the &ldquo;Reformer&rdquo; flourished in sixteen
+ hundred and something, and was known in our annals as, &ldquo;the old
+ Admiral,&rdquo; though in history he had other titles. He was long in
+ command of fleets of swift vessels, well armed and manned, and did great
+ service in hurrying up merchantmen. Vessels which he followed and kept his
+ eagle eye on, always made good fair time across the ocean. But if a ship
+ still loitered in spite of all he could do, his indignation would grow
+ till he could contain himself no longer&mdash;and then he would take that
+ ship home where he lived and, keep it there carefully, expecting the
+ owners to come for it, but they never did. And he would try to get the
+ idleness and sloth out of the sailors of that ship by compelling them to
+ take invigorating exercise and a bath. He called it &ldquo;walking a
+ plank.&rdquo; All the pupils liked it. At any rate, they never found any
+ fault with it after trying it. When the owners were late coming for their
+ ships, the Admiral always burned them, so that the insurance money should
+ not be lost. At last this fine old tar was cut down in the fulness of his
+ years and honors. And to her dying day, his poor heart-broken widow
+ believed that if he had been cut down fifteen minutes sooner he might have
+ been resuscitated.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Charles Henry Twain lived during the latter part of the seventeenth
+ century, and was a zealous and distinguished missionary. He converted
+ sixteen thousand South Sea islanders, and taught them that a dog-tooth
+ necklace and a pair of spectacles was not enough clothing to come to
+ divine service in. His poor flock loved him very, very dearly; and when
+ his funeral was over, they got up in a body (and came out of the
+ restaurant) with tears in their eyes, and saying, one to another, that he
+ was a good tender missionary, and they wished they had some more of him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ PAH-GO-TO-WAH-WAH-PUKKETEKEEWIS (Mighty-Hunter-with-a-Hog-Eye) TWAIN
+ adorned the middle of the eighteenth century, and aided Gen. Braddock with
+ all his heart to resist the oppressor Washington. It was this ancestor who
+ fired seventeen times at our Washington from behind a tree. So far the
+ beautiful romantic narrative in the moral story-books is correct; but when
+ that narrative goes on to say that at the seventeenth round the
+ awe-stricken savage said solemnly that that man was being reserved by the
+ Great Spirit for some mighty mission, and he dared not lift his
+ sacrilegious rifle against him again, the narrative seriously impairs the
+ integrity of history. What he did say was:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;It ain't no (hic!) no use. 'At man's so drunk he
+ can't stan' still long enough for a man to hit him. I (hic!) I
+ can't 'ford to fool away any more am'nition on him!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ That was why he stopped at the seventeenth round, and it was, a good plain
+ matter-of-fact reason, too, and one that easily commends itself to us by
+ the eloquent, persuasive flavor of probability there is about it.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I always enjoyed the story-book narrative, but I felt a marring misgiving
+ that every Indian at Braddock's Defeat who fired at a soldier a
+ couple of times (two easily grows to seventeen in a century), and missed
+ him, jumped to the conclusion that the Great Spirit was reserving that
+ soldier for some grand mission; and so I somehow feared that the only
+ reason why Washington's case is remembered and the others forgotten
+ is, that in his the prophecy came true, and in that of the others it didn't.
+ There are not books enough on earth to contain the record of the
+ prophecies Indians and other unauthorized parties have made; but one may
+ carry in his overcoat pockets the record of all the prophecies that have
+ been fulfilled.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I will remark here, in passing, that certain ancestors of mine are so
+ thoroughly well known in history by their aliases, that I have not felt it
+ to be worth while to dwell upon them, or even mention them in the order of
+ their birth. Among these may be mentioned RICHARD BRINSLEY TWAIN, alias
+ Guy Fawkes; JOHN WENTWORTH TWAIN, alias Sixteen-String Jack; WILLIAM
+ HOGARTH TWAIN, alias Jack Sheppard; ANANIAS TWAIN, alias Baron Munchausen;
+ JOHN GEORGE TWAIN, alias Capt. Kydd; and then there are George Francis
+ Train, Tom Pepper, Nebuchadnezzar and Baalam's Ass&mdash;they all
+ belong to our family, but to a branch of it somewhat distantly removed
+ from the honorable direct line&mdash;in fact, a collateral branch, whose
+ members chiefly differ from the ancient stock in that, in order to acquire
+ the notoriety we have always yearned and hungered for, they have got into
+ a low way of going to jail instead of getting hanged.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It is not well, when writing an autobiography, to follow your ancestry
+ down too close to your own time&mdash;it is safest to speak only vaguely
+ of your great-grandfather, and then skip from there to yourself, which I
+ now do.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I was born without teeth&mdash;and there Richard III had the advantage of
+ me; but I was born without a humpback, likewise, and there I had the
+ advantage of him. My parents were neither very poor nor conspicuously
+ honest.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ But now a thought occurs to me. My own history would really seem so tame
+ contrasted with that of my ancestors, that it is simply wisdom to leave it
+ unwritten until I am hanged. If some other biographies I have read had
+ stopped with the ancestry until a like event occurred, it would have been
+ a felicitous thing, for the reading public. How does it strike you?
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ AWFUL, TERRIBLE MEDIEVAL ROMANCE
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER I. THE SECRET REVEALED.
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ It was night. Stillness reigned in the grand old feudal castle of
+ Klugenstein. The year 1222 was drawing to a close. Far away up in the
+ tallest of the castle's towers a single light glimmered. A secret
+ council was being held there. The stern old lord of Klugenstein sat in a
+ chair of state meditating. Presently he said, with a tender accent:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;My daughter!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ A young man of noble presence, clad from head to heel in knightly mail,
+ answered:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Speak, father!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;My daughter, the time is come for the revealing of the mystery that
+ hath puzzled all your young life. Know, then, that it had its birth in the
+ matters which I shall now unfold. My brother Ulrich is the great Duke of
+ Brandenburgh. Our father, on his deathbed, decreed that if no son were
+ born to Ulrich, the succession should pass to my house, provided a son
+ were born to me. And further, in case no son were born to either, but only
+ daughters, then the succession should pass to Ulrich's daughter, if
+ she proved stainless; if she did not, my daughter should succeed, if she
+ retained a blameless name. And so I, and my old wife here, prayed
+ fervently for the good boon of a son, but the prayer was vain. You were
+ born to us. I was in despair. I saw the mighty prize slipping from my
+ grasp, the splendid dream vanishing away. And I had been so hopeful! Five
+ years had Ulrich lived in wedlock, and yet his wife had borne no heir of
+ either sex.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;'But hold,' I said, 'all is not lost.' A
+ saving scheme had shot athwart my brain. You were born at midnight. Only
+ the leech, the nurse, and six waiting-women knew your sex. I hanged them
+ every one before an hour had sped. Next morning all the barony went mad
+ with rejoicing over the proclamation that a son was born to Klugenstein,
+ an heir to mighty Brandenburgh! And well the secret has been kept. Your
+ mother's own sister nursed your infancy, and from that time forward
+ we feared nothing.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;When you were ten years old, a daughter was born to Ulrich. We
+ grieved, but hoped for good results from measles, or physicians, or other
+ natural enemies of infancy, but were always disappointed. She lived, she
+ throve&mdash;Heaven's malison upon her! But it is nothing. We are
+ safe. For, Ha-ha! have we not a son? And is not our son the future Duke?
+ Our well-beloved Conrad, is it not so?&mdash;for, woman of
+ eight-and-twenty years&mdash;as you are, my child, none other name than
+ that hath ever fallen to you!
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Now it hath come to pass that age hath laid its hand upon my
+ brother, and he waxes feeble. The cares of state do tax him sore.
+ Therefore he wills that you shall come to him and be already Duke&mdash;in
+ act, though not yet in name. Your servitors are ready&mdash;you journey
+ forth to-night.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Now listen well. Remember every word I say. There is a law as old
+ as Germany that if any woman sit for a single instant in the great ducal
+ chair before she hath been absolutely crowned in presence of the people,
+ SHE SHALL DIE! So heed my words. Pretend humility. Pronounce your
+ judgments from the Premier's chair, which stands at the foot of the
+ throne. Do this until you are crowned and safe. It is not likely that your
+ sex will ever be discovered; but still it is the part of wisdom to make
+ all things as safe as may be in this treacherous earthly life.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Oh; my father, is it for this my life hath been a lie! Was it that
+ I might cheat my unoffending cousin of her rights? Spare me, father, spare
+ your child!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;What, huzzy! Is this my reward for the august fortune my brain has
+ wrought for thee? By the bones of my father, this puling sentiment of
+ thine but ill accords with my humor.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Betake thee to the Duke, instantly! And beware how thou meddlest
+ with my purpose!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Let this suffice, of the conversation. It is enough for us to know that
+ the prayers, the entreaties and the tears of the gentle-natured girl
+ availed nothing. They nor anything could move the stout old lord of
+ Klugenstein. And so, at last, with a heavy heart, the daughter saw the
+ castle gates close behind her, and found herself riding away in the
+ darkness surrounded by a knightly array of armed vassals and a brave
+ following of servants.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The old baron sat silent for many minutes after his daughter's
+ departure, and then he turned to his sad wife and said:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Dame, our matters seem speeding fairly. It is full three months
+ since I sent the shrewd and handsome Count Detzin on his devilish mission
+ to my brother's daughter Constance. If he fail, we are not wholly
+ safe; but if he do succeed, no power can bar our girl from being Duchess e'en
+ though ill-fortune should decree she never should be Duke!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;My heart is full of bodings, yet all may still be well.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Tush, woman! Leave the owls to croak. To bed with ye, and dream of
+ Brandenburgh and grandeur!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER II. FESTIVITY AND TEARS
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ Six days after the occurrences related in the above chapter, the brilliant
+ capital of the Duchy of Brandenburgh was resplendent with military
+ pageantry, and noisy with the rejoicings of loyal multitudes; for Conrad,
+ the young heir to the crown, was come. The old Duke's heart was full
+ of happiness, for Conrad's handsome person and graceful bearing had
+ won his love at once. The great halls of the palace were thronged with
+ nobles, who welcomed Conrad bravely; and so bright and happy did all
+ things seem, that he felt his fears and sorrows passing away and giving
+ place to a comforting contentment.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ But in a remote apartment of the palace a scene of a different nature was
+ transpiring. By a window stood the Duke's only child, the Lady
+ Constance. Her eyes were red and swollen, and full of tears. She was
+ alone. Presently she fell to weeping anew, and said aloud:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;The villain Detzin is gone&mdash;has fled the dukedom! I could not
+ believe it at first, but alas! it is too true. And I loved him so. I dared
+ to love him though I knew the Duke my father would never let me wed him. I
+ loved him&mdash;but now I hate him! With all my soul I hate him! Oh, what
+ is to become of me! I am lost, lost, lost! I shall go mad!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER III. THE PLOT THICKENS.
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ A few months drifted by. All men published the praises of the young Conrad's
+ government and extolled the wisdom of his judgments, the mercifulness of
+ his sentences, and the modesty with which he bore himself in his great
+ office. The old Duke soon gave everything into his hands, and sat apart
+ and listened with proud satisfaction while his heir delivered the decrees
+ of the crown from the seat of the premier. It seemed plain that one so
+ loved and praised and honored of all men as Conrad was, could not be
+ otherwise than happy. But strange enough, he was not. For he saw with
+ dismay that the Princess Constance had begun to love him! The love of the
+ rest of the world was happy fortune for him, but this was freighted with
+ danger! And he saw, moreover, that the delighted Duke had discovered his
+ daughter's passion likewise, and was already dreaming of a marriage.
+ Every day somewhat of the deep sadness that had been in the princess'
+ face faded away; every day hope and animation beamed brighter from her
+ eye; and by and by even vagrant smiles visited the face that had been so
+ troubled.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Conrad was appalled. He bitterly cursed himself for having yielded to the
+ instinct that had made him seek the companionship of one of his own sex
+ when he was new and a stranger in the palace&mdash;when he was sorrowful
+ and yearned for a sympathy such as only women can give or feel. He now
+ began to avoid, his cousin. But this only made matters worse, for,
+ naturally enough, the more he avoided her, the more she cast herself in
+ his way. He marvelled at this at first; and next it startled him. The girl
+ haunted him; she hunted him; she happened upon him at all times and in all
+ places, in the night as well as in the day. She seemed singularly anxious.
+ There was surely a mystery somewhere.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ This could not go on forever. All the world was talking about it. The Duke
+ was beginning to look perplexed. Poor Conrad was becoming a very ghost
+ through dread and dire distress. One day as he was emerging from a private
+ ante-room attached to the picture gallery, Constance confronted him, and
+ seizing both his hands, in hers, exclaimed:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Oh, why, do you avoid me? What have I done&mdash;what have I said,
+ to lose your kind opinion of me&mdash;for, surely I had it once? Conrad,
+ do not despise me, but pity a tortured heart? I cannot&mdash;cannot hold
+ the words unspoken longer, lest they kill me&mdash;I LOVE you, CONRAD!
+ There, despise me if you must, but they would be uttered!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Conrad was speechless. Constance hesitated a moment, and then,
+ misinterpreting his silence, a wild gladness flamed in her eyes, and she
+ flung her arms about his neck and said:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;You relent! you relent! You can love me&mdash;you will love me! Oh,
+ say you will, my own, my worshipped Conrad!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Conrad groaned aloud. A sickly pallor overspread his countenance, and he
+ trembled like an aspen. Presently, in desperation, he thrust the poor girl
+ from him, and cried:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;You know not what you ask! It is forever and ever impossible!&rdquo;
+ And then he fled like a criminal and left the princess stupefied with
+ amazement. A minute afterward she was crying and sobbing there, and Conrad
+ was crying and sobbing in his chamber. Both were in despair. Both saw ruin
+ staring them in the face.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ By and by Constance rose slowly to her feet and moved away, saying:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;To think that he was despising my love at the very moment that I
+ thought it was melting his cruel heart! I hate him! He spurned me&mdash;did
+ this man&mdash;he spurned me from him like a dog!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER IV. THE AWFUL REVELATION.
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ Time passed on. A settled sadness rested once more upon the countenance of
+ the good Duke's daughter. She and Conrad were seen together no more
+ now. The Duke grieved at this. But as the weeks wore away, Conrad's
+ color came back to his cheeks and his old-time vivacity to his eye, and he
+ administered the government with a clear and steadily ripening wisdom.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Presently a strange whisper began to be heard about the palace. It grew
+ louder; it spread farther. The gossips of the city got hold of it. It
+ swept the dukedom. And this is what the whisper said:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;The Lady Constance hath given birth to a child!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ When the lord of Klugenstein heard it, he swung his plumed helmet thrice
+ around his head and shouted:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Long live Duke Conrad!&mdash;for lo, his crown is sure, from this
+ day forward! Detzin has done his errand well, and the good scoundrel shall
+ be rewarded!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ And he spread the tidings far and wide, and for eight-and-forty hours no
+ soul in all the barony but did dance and sing, carouse and illuminate, to
+ celebrate the great event, and all at proud and happy old Klugenstein's
+ expense.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br /><br /><br /><br />
+ </div>
+ <h2>
+ CHAPTER V. THE FRIGHTFUL CATASTROPHE.
+ </h2>
+ <p>
+ The trial was at hand. All the great lords and barons of Brandenburgh were
+ assembled in the Hall of Justice in the ducal palace. No space was left
+ unoccupied where there was room for a spectator to stand or sit. Conrad,
+ clad in purple and ermine, sat in the premier's chair, and on either
+ side sat the great judges of the realm. The old Duke had sternly commanded
+ that the trial of his daughter should proceed, without favor, and then had
+ taken to his bed broken-hearted. His days were numbered. Poor Conrad had
+ begged, as for his very life, that he might be spared the misery of
+ sitting in judgment upon his cousin's crime, but it did not avail.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The saddest heart in all that great assemblage was in Conrad's
+ breast.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The gladdest was in his father's. For, unknown to his daughter
+ &ldquo;Conrad,&rdquo; the old Baron Klugenstein was come, and was among
+ the crowd of nobles, triumphant in the swelling fortunes of his house.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ After the heralds had made due proclamation and the other preliminaries
+ had followed, the venerable Lord Chief justice said:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Prisoner, stand forth!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The unhappy princess rose and stood unveiled before the vast multitude.
+ The Lord Chief Justice continued:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Most noble lady, before the great judges of this realm it hath been
+ charged and proven that out of holy wedlock your Grace hath given birth
+ unto a child; and by our ancient law the penalty is death, excepting in
+ one sole contingency, whereof his Grace the acting Duke, our good Lord
+ Conrad, will advertise you in his solemn sentence now; wherefore, give
+ heed.&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Conrad stretched forth the reluctant sceptre, and in the self-same moment
+ the womanly heart beneath his robe yearned pityingly toward the doomed
+ prisoner, and the tears came into his eyes. He opened his lips to speak,
+ but the Lord Chief Justice said quickly:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Not there, your Grace, not there! It is not lawful to pronounce
+ judgment upon any of the ducal line SAVE FROM THE DUCAL THRONE!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ A shudder went to the heart of poor Conrad, and a tremor shook the iron
+ frame of his old father likewise. CONRAD HAD NOT BEEN CROWNED&mdash;dared
+ he profane the throne? He hesitated and turned pale with fear. But it must
+ be done. Wondering eyes were already upon him. They would be suspicious
+ eyes if he hesitated longer. He ascended the throne. Presently he
+ stretched forth the sceptre again, and said:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Prisoner, in the name of our sovereign lord, Ulrich, Duke of
+ Brandenburgh, I proceed to the solemn duty that hath devolved upon me.
+ Give heed to my words. By the ancient law of the land, except you produce
+ the partner of your guilt and deliver him up to the executioner, you must
+ surely die. Embrace this opportunity&mdash;save yourself while yet you
+ may. Name the father of your child!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ A solemn hush fell upon the great court&mdash;a silence so profound that
+ men could hear their own hearts beat. Then the princess slowly turned,
+ with eyes gleaming with hate, and pointing her finger straight at Conrad,
+ said:
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ &ldquo;Thou art the man!&rdquo;
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ An appalling conviction of his helpless, hopeless peril struck a chill to
+ Conrad's heart like the chill of death itself. What power on earth
+ could save him! To disprove the charge, he must reveal that he was a
+ woman; and for an uncrowned woman to sit in the ducal chair was death! At
+ one and the same moment, he and his grim old father swooned and fell to,
+ the ground.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ [The remainder of this thrilling and eventful story will NOT be found in
+ this or any other publication, either now or at any future time.]
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The truth is, I have got my hero (or heroine) into such a particularly
+ close place, that I do not see how I am ever going to get him (or her) out
+ of it again&mdash;and therefore I will wash my hands of the whole
+ business, and leave that person to get out the best way that offers&mdash;or
+ else stay there. I thought it was going to be easy enough to straighten
+ out that little difficulty, but it looks different now.
+ </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+[If Harper's Weekly or the New York Tribune desire to copy these initial
+chapters into the reading columns of their valuable journals, just as
+they do the opening chapters of Ledger and New York Weekly novels, they
+are at liberty to do so at the usual rates, provided they &ldquo;trust.&rdquo;]
+
+MARK TWAIN
+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <br /> <br />
+ </p>
+ <hr />
+ <p>
+ <br /> <br />
+ </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
+
+
+
+
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+</pre>
+ <p>
+ <br /><br />
+ </p>
+ </body>
+</html>