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years. Alack-a-day! He too was to have entered foreign
service with Carl Gustaf; but then came the war, and now
he supposed he would never have a chance to get out and
try his strength, and yet he was but three and twenty. To
live forever here at this tiresome little court,—doubly
tiresome since the nobility stayed at home,—to hunt a little,
look to his estate once in a while, some time in the future
by the grace of the King to be made Privy Councillor of
the Realm and be knighted, keep on the right side of Prince
Christian and retain his office, now and then be sent on a
tedious embassy to Holland, grow old, get the rheumatism,
die, and be buried in Vor Frue Church,—such was the
brilliant career that stretched before him. And now they were
fighting down in Spain! There was glory to be won, a life
to be lived—that was where the rapier and the sword-knot
came from. No, he must speak to the King. It was still
raining, and it was a long way to Frederiksborg, but there
was no help for it. He could not wait; the matter must be
settled.
The King liked his scheme. Contrary to his custom, he
assented at once, much to the surprise of Ulrik Frederik,
who during his whole ride had debated with himself all the
reasons that made his plan difficult, unreasonable,
impossible. But the King said Yes, he might leave before
Christmas. By that time the preparations could be completed and
an answer received from the King of Spain.
The reply came in the beginning of December, but
Ulrik Frederik did not start until the middle of April; for
there was much to be done. Money had to be raised,
retainers equipped, letters written. Finally he departed.
Marie Grubbe was ill pleased with this trip to Spain. It
is true, she saw the justice of Mistress Rigitze’s argument
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