Barbarina remained proudly erect, and replied to their greeting with a derisive smile. With her hands pressed nervously on the table, she looked after the two cavaliers as they left her saloon, with wide- extended, tearless eyes. But when the door closed upon them, when sure she could not be heard by them, she uttered so wild, so piercing a cry of anguish, that Marietta rushed into the room. Barbarina had sunk, as if struck by lightning, to the floor.
"I am dishonored, betrayed, spurned," cried she, madly. "O God! let me not outlive this shame—send death to my relief!"
Soon, however, her cries of despair were changed to words of scorn and bitterness. She no longer wished to die—she wished to revenge herself. She rose from her knees, and paced the room hastily, raging, flashing, filled with a burning thirst for vengeance, resolved to cast a veil over her shame, and hide it, at least, from the eyes of the world.
"Marietta, O Marietta!" cried she, breathlessly, "help me to find the means quickly, by one blow to satisfy my vengeance!—a means which will prove to the king that I am not, as be supposes, dying from grief and despair; that I am still the Barbarina—the adored, triumphant, all-conquering artiste—a means which will convince the whole world that I am not deserted, scorned, but that I myself am the inconstant one. Oh, where shall I find the means to rise triumphantly from this humiliation? where—"
"Silence, silence, sister! some one is coming. Let no one witness your agitation."
The servant entered and announced that Baron von Swartz, director of the theatre, wished to know if the signora would appear in the ballet of the evening.
"Say to him that I will dance with pleasure," said Barbarina.
When once more alone, Marietta entreated her to be quiet, and not increase her agitation by appearing in public.
Barbarina interrupted her impatiently. "Do you not see that already the rumor of my disgrace has reached the theatre? Do you not see the malice of this question of Baron Swartz? They think the Barbarina is so completely broken, crushed by the displeasure of the king, that she can no longer dance. They have deceived themselves—I will dance tonight. Perhaps I shall go mad; but I will first refute the slander, and bring to naught the report of my disgrace with the king."
And now the servant entered and announced Monsieur Cocceji.