(Rising from amid the spectators, in a tone of parody.)
I am the monarch over all this land——
THE SPECTATORS.
Down with the barber's assistant. He has no appreciation! Strike him to earth!
THE THEATRE MANAGER.
Quod licet Jovi, non licet bovi!——(To the King, who has left the rock.) I will engage you as ballet master and character actor and offer you a hundred soldi a month.
ANOTHER THEATRE MANAGER.
(Speaking in a falsetto voice.) Hundred soldi, hi, hi, hi? A hundred soldi will the skinflint give you?——I wave a hundred and fifty in your face, you rascal! What do you say, hi, hi, hi?——Will you now or won't you?
THE KING.
(To the First Theatre Manager.) Don't you think, honored master, that I am rather a tragedian than a comedian?