He possessed everything that it
was in the power of man to desire, and yet, with each new month, he
seemed to become more unhappy and dejected.
When the heir to the throne drove out in his gilt coach and the duchess
heard of the enthusiasm exhibited by the people, or saw him sitting at a
feast of pheasants, smacking his lips and drawing the asparagus between
his teeth, she reflected on his brother's hard lot and could not help
feeling angry with her fortunate son for possessing all the gifts that
Destiny refused to her poor outcast George.
Once when the duchess looked in the mirror, she saw George who had
carefully taken a clock to pieces, trying to put it together again.
A moment later the chancellor and the master of ceremonies came up behind
her in order to look into the glass also. No sooner had they done so
than they set up a loud outcry, and behaved as if the enemy had invaded
the land again.
"The poor, miserable, pitiable, ill-starred princeling!" one of them
exclaimed. "A Greylock, it is unheard of, abominable, sacrilegious," the
other moaned.
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