'Pace! If you are stubborn, mia cara, you might cader dalla papella nelle brage. Hasten. The overture should commence. The King is waiting.'
At that moment Brühl came behind the stage; he looked at Faustina, nodded to her, then at Teresa, to whom he made some sign, and while the orchestra was playing, all took their places.
Father Guarini nodded to Brühl, and they both went through narrow passages in which the managers were omnipotent, making storms, thunderbolts, ruling over heavens and gods, into a small room behind the stage, in which a dressing table and women's clothing indicated that it was the dressing room of one of these ladies, who not long ago quarrelled so passionately, and who were now singing a most harmonious duet.
Guarini and Brühl were both tired and silent, they sat beside each other, looking into each other's faces; the Jesuit began to smile.
'Here,' he said, 'nobody can see or hear us, it is the hiding place of that viper Teresa, here we are safe. Let us talk.'
He clasped Brühl's knee.
Brühl bent to the Jesuit's ear.
'Lichtenstein has the plan; go with him to Vienna.'
'Va bene,' said Guarini. 'I prepared the Queen. I am certain that Sulkowski threatens that he will drive us from the court, that he will separate the King from the Queen, and that he will give him somebody else.'
The Jesuit laughed and shrugged his shoulders.