"But I shall have a will!" said Catharine, proudly.
The Princess Daschkow had spoken the truth. Elizabeth had no longer
any will; she let Bestuscheff govern, and was herself ruled by Alexis
Razumovsky, the field-marshal, her husband. She did whatever these two
required, willingly yielding to them in all cases demanding no personal
effort on her part. On this point only had she a will of her own, which
she carried through with an iron hand.
"I have not become empress that I might labor, but that I might amuse
myself," said she. "I have not set the crown upon my head for the
purpose of governing, but for the purpose of enjoying life. Spare me,
therefore, the labor of signing your documents. I will sign nothing
more, for my hand is not accustomed to holding the pen, and the ink
soils my fingers, which is unworthy of an empress!"
"It is only one signature that I implore of you to-day," said
Bestuscheff, handing her a letter. "Have the great kindness to make an
exception of this one single case, by signing this letter to King Louis
XV. of France."
"What have I to write to this King of France?" fretfully asked
Elizabeth. "Why should I do it? It is a long time since he has sent
me any new dresses, although he might well know that nothing is more
important for an empress than a splendid and varied wardrobe! Why, then,
should I write to this King of France?"
"You majesty, it is here question of a simple act of courtesy," said
Bestuscheff, pressingly; "an act the omission of which may be attended
with the most disagreeable consequences, perhaps indeed involve us in a
war.
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