Dear Heinrich - arrived at Bayreuth today! Big Sis turns out to be cool. I hadn't seen her since that Christmas time when Dad wanted to give those poor surely starving comedians a job so they'd get through the holidays, so it was all "wow, you've grown up! (Somebody nocticed! Take that, Mom.) Fritz was a bit weird, though, all bird talk, „my swan“ this and „my swan“ that when he hadn’t brought her any swans at all, just the Italian guy. Oh, and she’s got a hot lady-in-waiting, one of the Marwitz girls. I hit on her, and then our brother-in-law glared at me like you wouldnl’t believe. Can it be he’s a prude? I mean, I loved Dad, you know I did, but I thought I finally didn’t have to pretend I’m a eunuch anymore.
Dear Heinrich – Fritz has decided we’ll cross the border and go to France incognito. Awesome! I wanted to be called Eugene S. Oyen, after the greatest hero, of course, but Fritz said that was too obvious. Pfff. He’s just sulking because Wilhelmine talked him out of calling himself „Louis Legrand“. Anyway, he’s decided Algarotti gets to choose our names, since he has experience with border crossing.
Dear Heinrich – and we’re off to France! More swan talk. I don’t get it. I mean, I get now that’s some code name for Algarotti, but anyone less swan like I can’t imagine. His neck’s not long, and he doesn’t hiss, either. (Last time I fed some of the swans we have in the Havel with bread crumbs, they hissed at me like you wouldn’t believe. Don’t go near them, Henri. They totally bite.) Instead, he’s rolling his rrrs all the time, like in „Oh, Prrrrrrrrrincipe!“ (What Wilhelmine’s lute has got to do with anything, I don’t know, either.)
Dear Heinrich – now we’re talking! We’re all criminals now, which is cool. Fritz had forged our pass ports, and we all made really harmless faces when border crossing, though at one point I thought Algarotti looked like he was about to let a fart or something. Which would be weird because he’s the cultured type, but he had that kind of face like you do when you’re holding your breath or want to piss. Fritz, who was sitting right next to him, must have tried to signal him to calm down, at least I think that’s what he was doing with his hand under Algarotti’s cloak.
Dear Heinrich – you’ll never guess what happened! Don’t be surprised at the paper with the Strassbourg garnison stamp. We were arrested! Okay, so maybe we shouldn’t have hung out with the soldiers, but I thought it could be fun to talk to someone other than Algarotti, with his weird „oh, prrrrrrrincipe“ exclamations. (I have told him that it’s „King“ now, if he wants to address Fritz. Also „your majesty“. Fritz glared at me.) Anyway, we met some guys from the local garnison who invited us into a tavern. They were smoking and drinking beer and I thought of Dad and got tears in my eyes. So did Fritz. At least I think he did. He also looked a bit green in the face. And that’s when this really tall guy stood up and said „Wow, it’s Crown Prince – I mean, King Friedrich!“ Yes, we were totally busted by a Potsdam Giant. Fritz says he wanted to dismantle that regiment anyway. He’s kind of depressed. I told him not to worry, we wouldn’t stay in prison long, and suggest he should write to Wilhelmine so she could send money to bribe the local commander and bail us out. He said no way. So I guess we’ll do a prison break next. Way cool!
Dear Heinrich – no daring escape, sadly, we got released the normal way the next morning, though Fritz had to promise not to do it again. He muttered something, but if you ask me it sounded more like „third time’s the charm“ and also something about going east instead of west next. So no Paris, I guess. Fritz says he wants to go to Cleves now and kick some butt, which also sounds good. I mean, I don’t know how exactly he plans to do that there, given he’s still looking green, and now also sweaty, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned about Big Bro already: being with him is never boring! Can’t wait what happens next.
Dear Heinrich – arrived at Cleves. Fritz is starting to look really sick, though, which worries me a bit and can’t help with the planned butt-kicking. Algarotti made a mysterious face and says there’s a surprise waiting that’ll cheer Fritz up. I thought maybe he meant some naked girls, like they have in Dresden – Dad always ranted about that, so I know it’s true! - , but nooooo, it was some old French guy who’s got to be at least 40. The guy rushed to Fritz who was lying down because of his fever and took his pulse, so I thought he might be a doctor. Then he opened his mouth, and it was all „My Alcibiades, it is I, your Socrates!“, and seriously, I thought that it would be really weird to first get recognized in France and then get mistaken for someone else in our own territory! But then he and Fritz started to kiss each other’s hands. Also once or twice their own, since they did it so often and kept talking in between and got confused. P.S. Algarotti told me the French guy was Voltaire. I said: „I thought his name was Socrates.“ Then Algarotti said „You poor boy. Your father really did not want you to learn anything about the Greeks, did he?“
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
The Very Secret Travel Correspondance of Prince August Wilhelm
Date: 2020-01-17 07:47 pm (UTC)Dear Heinrich – Fritz has decided we’ll cross the border and go to France incognito. Awesome! I wanted to be called Eugene S. Oyen, after the greatest hero, of course, but Fritz said that was too obvious. Pfff. He’s just sulking because Wilhelmine talked him out of calling himself „Louis Legrand“. Anyway, he’s decided Algarotti gets to choose our names, since he has experience with border crossing.
Dear Heinrich – and we’re off to France! More swan talk. I don’t get it. I mean, I get now that’s some code name for Algarotti, but anyone less swan like I can’t imagine. His neck’s not long, and he doesn’t hiss, either. (Last time I fed some of the swans we have in the Havel with bread crumbs, they hissed at me like you wouldn’t believe. Don’t go near them, Henri. They totally bite.) Instead, he’s rolling his rrrs all the time, like in „Oh, Prrrrrrrrrincipe!“ (What Wilhelmine’s lute has got to do with anything, I don’t know, either.)
Dear Heinrich – now we’re talking! We’re all criminals now, which is cool. Fritz had forged our pass ports, and we all made really harmless faces when border crossing, though at one point I thought Algarotti looked like he was about to let a fart or something. Which would be weird because he’s the cultured type, but he had that kind of face like you do when you’re holding your breath or want to piss. Fritz, who was sitting right next to him, must have tried to signal him to calm down, at least I think that’s what he was doing with his hand under Algarotti’s cloak.
Dear Heinrich – you’ll never guess what happened! Don’t be surprised at the paper with the Strassbourg garnison stamp. We were arrested! Okay, so maybe we shouldn’t have hung out with the soldiers, but I thought it could be fun to talk to someone other than Algarotti, with his weird „oh, prrrrrrrincipe“ exclamations. (I have told him that it’s „King“ now, if he wants to address Fritz. Also „your majesty“. Fritz glared at me.) Anyway, we met some guys from the local garnison who invited us into a tavern. They were smoking and drinking beer and I thought of Dad and got tears in my eyes. So did Fritz. At least I think he did. He also looked a bit green in the face. And that’s when this really tall guy stood up and said „Wow, it’s Crown Prince – I mean, King Friedrich!“ Yes, we were totally busted by a Potsdam Giant. Fritz says he wanted to dismantle that regiment anyway. He’s kind of depressed. I told him not to worry, we wouldn’t stay in prison long, and suggest he should write to Wilhelmine so she could send money to bribe the local commander and bail us out. He said no way. So I guess we’ll do a prison break next. Way cool!
Dear Heinrich – no daring escape, sadly, we got released the normal way the next morning, though Fritz had to promise not to do it again. He muttered something, but if you ask me it sounded more like „third time’s the charm“ and also something about going east instead of west next. So no Paris, I guess. Fritz says he wants to go to Cleves now and kick some butt, which also sounds good. I mean, I don’t know how exactly he plans to do that there, given he’s still looking green, and now also sweaty, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned about Big Bro already: being with him is never boring! Can’t wait what happens next.
Dear Heinrich – arrived at Cleves. Fritz is starting to look really sick, though, which worries me a bit and can’t help with the planned butt-kicking. Algarotti made a mysterious face and says there’s a surprise waiting that’ll cheer Fritz up. I thought maybe he meant some naked girls, like they have in Dresden – Dad always ranted about that, so I know it’s true! - , but nooooo, it was some old French guy who’s got to be at least 40. The guy rushed to Fritz who was lying down because of his fever and took his pulse, so I thought he might be a doctor. Then he opened his mouth, and it was all „My Alcibiades, it is I, your Socrates!“, and seriously, I thought that it would be really weird to first get recognized in France and then get mistaken for someone else in our own territory! But then he and Fritz started to kiss each other’s hands. Also once or twice their own, since they did it so often and kept talking in between and got confused. P.S. Algarotti told me the French guy was Voltaire. I said: „I thought his name was Socrates.“ Then Algarotti said „You poor boy. Your father really did not want you to learn anything about the Greeks, did he?“