Octavian, a handsome youth, sat at the feet of his beloved Princess in an adoring attitude, every now and again rising to draw her into his eager embrace; and the Princess listened indulgently to his extravagant expressions of admiration and adoration—for, in spite of his extreme youth, she loved the boy dearly and delighted in his ardently responsive passion.
Their golden hours of sweet dreaming this morning, however, were doomed to a rough awakening; for there suddenly came the sound of an arrival in the courtyard below, and the Princess exclaimed in deep alarm, as she heard approaching heavy footsteps: "Ah, woe! My husband has returned unexpectedly! Quick, conceal thyself, my beloved Octavian!"
Octavian hastily retired to a cupboard in a recess; and the Princess paced restlessly up and down her room, listening to the voices of her zealous lackeys arguing with the newcomer, whom she soon realised was not her husband, after all, but a near kinsman, the Baron Ochs von Lerchenau, a middle-aged and dissipated roué, for whom she had little affection and less respect.
In a few moments Octavian emerged from the recess, attired in female garments, and entreated the Princess to pass him off to her intruding cousin as a new waiting-maid; and his royal sweetheart, delighted with his charming appearance—for he made an extremely pretty "girl"—and ever ready for a joke, gladly agreed to do so.
At this moment the visitor burst into the room, angrily expostulating with the dismayed attendants for having kept him waiting outside so long; and seeing that he was indeed her kinsman, the Baron Ochs von Lerchenau, the Princess gave him a gracious welcome and inquired the reason for his unexpected appearance so early in the morning.
The Baron, however, was immediately so struck with the fair fresh beauty of the dainty "waiting-maid," that he could scarce take his eyes away, and kept casting languishing glances at her, making frequent inviting signs for her to approach nearer to him—to the secret entertainment of the Princess, who more than once had to bid him keep his hands off the "girl," whom she addressed as "Mariandel"; but the flirtatious visitor was at last induced to sit down and state his business whilst partaking of a cup of chocolate.
The Baron now explained to his royal cousin that he had decided to marry, and was, in fact, about to enter into a contract that day with a very young girl named Sophia, the daughter of Faninal, a wealthy merchant who had recently been ennobled; and when the Princess expressed surprise that he should stoop to wed with one of such plebeian origin, he airily confessed that the father's money-bags were of more service to him in his present impecunious state than a long pedigree, declaring that enough blue blood flowed in his own veins for himself and his wife.
The marriage contract was to be signed later during that day; but, in the meantime, he required the services of a noble youth to bear to his promised bride a silver rose as the pledge of his love, in accordance with the pretty custom of such ancient families as his own—and he begged the Princess to name one of their kinsmen for this important mission.
In reply, the Princess bade her "waiting-maid" fetch her a certain jewelled medallion in which was set a miniature of Octavian; and showing the portrait to the Baron, she asked him if he would like the original to perform the office of rose-bearer to his bride-elect, Sophia. The Baron gladly answered in the affirmative, entreating that the matter should forthwith be arranged by the Princess, who agreed to the plan; then, upon gazing more closely at the miniature, he noticed the likeness between the pictured youth and the pretty young "waiting-maid," and his royal cousin informed him that they were, in fact, related, and that though their relationship was not quite "canonical," she nevertheless for that reason chose to keep "Mariandel" always about her own person and away from the other maids.
Once more the Baron tried to make advances to the pretty "Mariandel," inviting her to sup with him that night, and boldly seeking an opportunity to snatch a kiss, to the increasing amusement of the Princess; but Octavian at last managed to make his escape through one of the doors, which he slammed in the amorous Baron's face.