"No, your excellency; there is a note on the margin, in the writing of the king."
"Read it aloud."
"Your excellency, the king has made use of some expressions that I cannot bring my lips to utter."
"The king is our master; we must hear what he has to say in all humility."
"You command me, then, to proceed?"
"I command it."
"'This pack of theologians have caused the whole difficulty. The actors shall continue to play, and Mr. Franke, or whatever else the scamp calls himself, shall make public reparation, by visiting the theatre; and I must receive information from the actors themselves that he has done so.'"
A murmur of horror succeeded the reading of this order. Only President Franke maintained his erect position, and continued looking straight before him at Professor Heinrich, who had just dropped the fatal paper.
"Is that all?" asked the president.
"It is, your excellency."