“I don't suspect—”
“Don't you? Well, then, I do, sir; and that's enough,” said he, interrupting. “And as to Upton, he's well known throughout Europe,—a 'mauvais coucheur,' Stubber; that's what the Emperor Franz called him,—a 'mauvais coucheur,' one of those fellows England employs to get up the embarrassments she so deeply deplores. Eh, Stubber, that's the phrase: 'While we deeply deplore the condition of the kingdom,'—that's always the exordium to sending out a fleet or an impertinent despatch. But I'll not endure it here. I have my sovereign rights, my independence, my allies. By the way, haven't my allies taken possession of the Opera House for a barrack?”
“That they have, sir; and they threaten an encampment in the Court gardens.”
“An open insult, an outrage! And have you endured and submitted to this?”
“I have refused the permission; but they may very possibly take no heed of my protest.”
“And you 'll tell me that I am the ruler of this state?”
“No, but I 'll say you might, if you liked to be so.”
“How so, Stubber? Come, my worthy fellow, what's your plan? You have a plan, I'm certain—but I guess it: turn Protestant, hunt out the Jesuits, close the churches, demolish the monasteries, and send for an English frigate down to the Marina, where there's not water to float a fishing-boat. But no, sir, I 'll have no such alliances; I 'll throw myself upon the loyalty and attachment of my people, and—I'll raise the taxes. Eh, Stubber? We'll tax the 'colza' and the quarries! If they demur, we 'll abdicate; that's my last word,—abdicate.”
“I wonder who this sick man can be that accompanies Upton,” said Stubber, who never suffered himself to be moved by his master's violence.
“Another firebrand,—another emissary of English disturbance. Hardenberg was perfectly right when he said the English nation pays off the meanest subserviency to their own aristocracy by hunting down all that is noble in every state of Europe. There, sir, he hit the mark in the very centre. Slaves at home, rebels abroad,—that's your code!”