'Carissimo! Perdona,' said the Jesuit. 'But it seems to me that you are stupid, if you say such things. I shall give you some advice. When you have an excess of bad humour, go into the forest; there you may swear as much as you like, shout as much as you like, and then return to town quieted. You know that in old times they used that remedy for those who could not hold their tongues.'
Watzdorf listened indifferently.
'I pity you,' added Guarini.
'If you knew how I pity you all,' Watzdorf sighed. 'But who could say whose pity is the better?'
'Then let us leave it,' said the Jesuit taking his hat. He came to Faustina and bowed to her humbly.
'Once more I pray your Excellency for the poverino, don't dismiss him for my sake.'
'You can do what you please without me,' answered Faustina, 'but should you force me to sing with him, I give you my word that I shall slap his face in public.'
Guarini inclined his head, bowed, and went to the Prince with his report.
It was the hour of rest which Frederick enjoyed after doing nothing the whole day. The hour in which he smoked his pipe, enjoyed the tricks of Frosch and Horch, and the company of Brühl and Sulkowski, for no one else could see him then.
Guarini entered whenever he liked. He was the more amiable companion. The Prince was fond of laughing, and Guarini made him laugh: when he wanted to be silent, Guarini was silent: when asked a question, he answered mirthfully, never contradicting.