At that moment the Infanta, herself, came in through the open door, and when she saw the ugly little dwarf lying on the ground and beating it with his clenched hands, she went off into shouts of happy laughter.
"His dancing was funny," said the Infanta, "but his acting is funnier still. He is almost as good as the puppets," and she clapped her hands.
But the little dwarf never looked up, and his sobs grew fainter and fainter, and suddenly he gave a curious gasp and clutched his side. And then he fell back, and lay quite still.
"That was splendid!" said the Infanta, "and now you must get up and dance for me!"
But the little dwarf made no answer.
The Infanta stamped her foot, and called to the Court Chamberlain.
"My funny little dwarf is sulking," she cried. "You must wake him up and tell him to dance for me!"
So the Chamberlain came in from the terrace where he had been walking and bent over the dwarf, tapping him on his cheek with his embroidered glove.
But the little dwarf never moved.
The Chamberlain looked grave, and he knelt beside the dwarf, putting his hand on his heart. And after a few moments he rose up, and making a low bow to the Infanta, said,