"Approach, Miss Woodville," said her Majesty with that German accent which has been the butt of so many pleasantries.
Esther advanced a step or two, and then sank in a profound courtesy.
"Ah! ah! Miss Woodville. Charmed to see you and to congratulate you!"
It was the king who spoke. He came to her with that inimitable gait, upon which the circus-clowns of the day wasted study and art in their attempts to reproduce it, but which in his Majesty was natural. He held his body bent like a half-moon, the back arched, the legs down to the knees pressed close together, and the feet wide apart. Being upon the point of leaving the theatre before the little piece which terminated the performance, he already held his gloves in one hand, his cane in the other, and his hat under his arm. Upon reaching the spot where Esther stood he let fall his gloves. She stooped to pick them up, while he, wishing to spare her the exertion, dropped his cane; quickly seizing it, he lost his hold upon his hat. Thereupon ensued a moment of confusion, which the queen, in an attempt to abridge, made use of by addressing a compliment to the young artist.
"You are Garrick's last pupil, I believe," she said, "and perhaps his best. He would have been happy indeed to have heard you this evening."
"Eh? what? Garrick?" gasped his Majesty. "Oh, certainly, certainly! She plays remarkably well. I'm a judge myself: I too have played in comedy—comedy and tragedy. I used to do Addison's 'Cato,' and not half badly, they said. But of course one always says that to a prince. Have you seen 'Cato,' Miss Woodville?"
"Never, sire."
"Ah, but it is a fine play! And the tirade, the famous tirade, you know!"
And he began to declaim, floundering for words. Again her Majesty interrupted him, although with every demonstration of respect.
"Does not your Majesty find that Miss Woodville speaks her Shakespeare marvellously well?"