THE GYPSY. Your majesty, I have especially softened the wording of this piece of news in order not to offend your majesty's ears. But in substance that is the story which was told last night at every tavern in the city.
THE KING. But, sirrah, I cannot permit—I simply cannot permit—why— why—!
THE GYPSY. Suppose, your majesty, we skip the police news, and go on to gentler themes.
THE KING. That would be better—much better.
THE GYPSY. Shall we take up—politics?
THE KING. (wearily) Oh, yes.
THE GYPSY. (reciting) A debate between the rival factions who seek to influence the governing of our kingdom through the so-called Council of Peers was held last night outdoors in the public market. The rival orators exceeded one another in dullness and hoarseness. The attendance was very slight. The general public takes little interest in these proceedings, knowing as it does that they are merely a diversion for the scions of old families whose energies are unemployed except in time of war. It is the general feeling, moreover, that the King may be depended upon to govern the kingdom properly without the interference of these aristocratic meddlers.
THE KING. Ah, splendid, splendid! Let us hear that again!
THE GYPSY. A debate between the rival factions—
THE KING. No, no—the last part. That about meddling.