“Sire,” answered Baron von Arnim, “the contract of the French actors, which needs renewing, I have to lay before your majesty; also a paper, received yesterday, from Madame Mara; still another from the singer Conciliani, and a petition from four persons from the opera.”
“What stupid stuff!” growled the king, at the same time bestowing a caress upon Alkmene. “Commence with your report. Let us hear what those singers are now asking for.”
“The singer Conciliani has addressed a heart-breaking letter to your majesty, and prays for an increase of salary—that it is impossible for him to live upon three thousand dollars.”
“Ah! that is what is wanted?” cried the king, furious, and striking his staff upon the floor. “The fellow is mad; When he cannot live upon three thousand, he will not be able to live upon four. I want money for cannon. I cannot spend it for such nonsense. I am surprised, Von Arnim that you repeat such stuff to me.”
“Your majesty, it is my duty that I—”
“What! Your duty is not to flatter them. I pay them to give me pleasure, not presumption. Remember, once for all, do not flatter them. Conciliani will get no increase of salary. If he persists, let him go to the mischief! This is my decision.—Proceed! What is Madame Mara begging for?”
“Madame Mara constantly refuses to sing the airs which your majesty commanded to be introduced into the opera of ‘Coriolanus.’ She has taken the liberty to address you in writing; here is the letter, if your majesty will have the grace to read it.”
“By no means, sir, by no means!” cried the king; at the same instant catching the paper with his staff, he slung it like a shot arrow to the farthest corner of the room, to the great amusement of Alkmene, who, with a loud bark, sprang from her master’s knee, and with a bound caught the strange bird, and tore it in pieces. “You are right, my pet,” said the king, laughing, “you have written my answer with your nose to this arrogant person. Director, say to Madame Mara that I pay her to sing, not to write. She must sing both airs, or she may find herself at Spandau for her obstinacy, where her husband is, for the same reason. She can reflect, and judge for herself.”
The director could scarcely repress a sigh, foreboding the disagreeable scene that he would have to encounter with the proud and passionate singer. Timidly Von Arnim alluded to the four persons from the opera. “Who are these demoiselles, and what do they want?” asked the king.
“Sire,” replied the Baron von Arnim, “they are the four persons who personate the role of court ladies and maids of honor to the queens and princesses. They beg your majesty to secure to them a fixed income.”