“But, sire, it is no fairy tale, but the unvarnished truth. The page of the princess listened, and immediately repeated all that he heard to me.”
“Have you paid the page for this intelligence, which he asserts he overheard?”
“No, sire.”
“Then go quickly to Berlin and reward him by two sound boxes on the ear, then go to bed and drink chamomile tea. It appears to me your head is weak.”
“But, sire, I have told you nothing but the pure truth; no matter how fabulous it may appear.”
Frederick gazed at him scornfully. “It is a silly tale,” he cried, in a loud commanding voice. “Do not say another word, and do not dare to repeat to any one what you have now related. Go, I say! and forget this nonsense.”
Pollnitz crept sighing and with bowed head to the door, but, before he opened it, he turned once more to the king.
“Sire, this is the last day of the month, this wretched October has thirty-one days. Even if in your majesty’s wisdom you decide this story to be untrue, you should at least remember my zeal.”
“I should reward you for your zeal in doing evil?” said Frederick, shaking his head. “But truly this is the way of the world; evil is rewarded and good actions trodden under foot. You are not worth a kick! Go and get your reward; tell my servant to give you ten Fredericks d’or—but on one condition.”
“What condition?” said Pollnitz, joyfully.