"Well, tell me what sort of person is the Princess Mary Kunigunde?"
"She is slender," replied Dietrichstein, shrugging his shoulders; "slender as a bean-pole. If your majesty will pardon me the expression in favor of its truth, her bones rattle as she walks, and if you should chance to touch her by accident, I pity you."
"What for?"
"Because you will retreat from the collision bruised."
"You are a wicked slanderer, count," replied the empress. "You mean to say that the Princess of Saxony is frail and feminine in her appearance."
"If your majesty pleases, so be it; but if you looked into her serene
Highness's face, you might mistake her for a man, nevertheless."
"Holy Virgin! what does the man mean?" cried the empress, astounded.
"I mean," said the count, with a sort of comic seriousness, "that the frail and feminine princess has a black beard which a cornet might envy."
"Nonsense, count! you saw her at twilight, and mistook a shadow on her face for a beard."
"Pardon me, your majesty, you commanded me to tell the truth. I saw the princess by sunlight as well as by candlelight. Under all circumstances, this black shadow overhung her not very small mouth; and I have strong reason for persisting in my opinion that it was a flourishing beard."