The Short Stories. Frederick Schiller

To spare the grey man, wherever possible, of all the vexations which he himself has accumulated upon him, he invited the expelled former favourite friendly back in his country where G.’s heart, already for long, has craved to return.

      G.'s homecoming was moving, the Prince's welcoming warm and yet deceiving, they looked as if they have just separated the day before. The Prince looked thoughtfully at the face which was so well known to him and yet, again, so foreign; he noticed the wrinkles which he himself has chiselled onto his former favourite's face. He sought inquisitively in the grey man's face, again, the beloved traits of the young favourite, but what he was looking for, he did not find any more.

      They coerced themselves to observe a frosty relatedness to each other. Shame and fear have separated for always and eternally their two hearts. A sight which recalled to the Prince his former, consequential haste into his soul, could not possibly do him well! G. could not any more show love to the author of his misfortune. Yet, he now saw the past with comfort and calm, the same way people rejoice awakening after a nightmare.

      Not long after, G. saw himself again in the full possession of all his previous dignities, and the Prince, overcoming his inner antipathy, gave him a glowing compensation for his past ordeal. But by doing so, he could still not give back to G. the heart which he prevented for always to enjoy life fully! Could he give him back the years of hope, or could he make the greying old man think again about a happiness which only by far could compensate him for the rob which the Prince has done to the younger man?

      G. enjoyed still this ardent evening of his life for nineteen years. Neither the destinies he received, nor the long years of ban have dampened in him the fire of passion, or could totally darken the joviality of his spirit. In his seventies, he would still try to run after the shadow of a good which he has possessed really in his twenties.

      He died, finally, as commander of the fortress of *** where state prisoners would be kept. People would expect that he would show to these prisoners a humanity which value he must have learned to appreciate; but he acted brutally and arbitrarily with them, and an outburst of rage against one of them hit him to the coffin in his eightieth year.