The hall re-echoed with a gigantic peal of wild laughter.
"Hoym is very amusing when he is drunk!"
"How funny the Secretary to the Treasury is!"
"What a very droll man!"
The King did not laugh. Hoym, under the influence of the Ambrosia, had evidently forgotten where he was, and to whom he was talking.
"Yes, laugh!" he exclaimed. "You all know me! You call me Don Juan; you acknowledge that I am a judge of female beauty. Why should I lie?"
Here he looked at the King and was terrified at the expression of his features. So terrified was he that he almost became sober. He would have liked to withdraw, but, being unable, he stood there pale and trembling.
In vain the others tried to make him talk further; Hoym only looked down at the floor and became thoughtful.
The King nodded to Kyan, who filled Hoym's glass with Ambrosia.
"We have drunk the health of our divine Hercules," cried Fürstenberg, "now let us drink to the health of our godly Apollo!"