"Sire," said he, "the Signora Barbarina declares she will not dance again; she is exhausted by grief and anxiety, and fatigued by her journey."
"Go and say to her that I command her to dance," said Frederick, who felt himself once more a king, and rejoiced in his power over this enchantress, who almost held him in her toils.
Baron Swartz hastened behind the scenes, but soon returned, somewhat cast down.
"Sire, the signora affirms that she will not dance, and that the king has no power to compel her. She dances to please herself."
"Ah! that is a menace," said the king, threateningly; and without further speech he stepped upon the stage, followed by Baron Swartz. "Where is this person?" said the king.
"She is in her own room, your majesty; shall I call her?"
"No, I will go to her. Show me the way."
The baron stepped forward, and Frederick endeavored to collect himself and assume a cool and grave bearing.
"Sire, this is the chamber of the Signora Barbarina."
"Open the door." But before the baron had time to obey the command, the impatient hand of the king had opened the door, and he had entered the room.