“Indeed! Go to my writing-table and bring paper and pencil; I will dictate a reply to them,” said the king. “Now write, Von Arnim: ‘To the four court ladies and maids of honor of the opera: You are mistaken in addressing yourselves to me; the affair of your salaries concerns YOUR emperors and kings. To them you must address yourselves.—Adieu.’”
Von Arnim could scarcely repress a smile.
“Now we come to the last affair—the salaries and pensions of the French actors,” said the king; “but first tell me the news in Berlin—what report has trumpeted forth in the last few days.”
“Your majesty, the latest news in Berlin, which rumor brings home to every hearth-side and every heart is, that your majesty has declared war with Austria on account of the Bavarian succession. Every one rejoices, sire, that you will humble that proud and supercilious house of Austria, and enter the lists for Germany.”
“Listen!” answered the king, sternly. “I did not ask you to blow the trumpet of praise, as if your honor, inspector of the theatres, thought yourself upon the stage, and would commence a comedy with the king of lamps. So it is known then that my soldiers will enter the great theatre of war, and that we are about to fight real battles.”
“It is known, sire,” replied Von Arnim, bowing.
“Then what I am about to communicate to you will not surprise you. The present juncture of affairs leads us to await very grave scenes—we can well dispense with comedy. I withdraw the salaries and pensions of the French actors—your own is included. After you have dismissed the French comedians, you will be entirely at leisure to pursue your love-intrigues.—Farewell!”
“Your majesty,” cried the baron, amazed, “has your highness dismissed me?”
“Are you deaf, or have you some of the cotton in your ears which I presented to you at your recall from Copenhagen?” replied the king. [Footnote: Baron von Arnim was ambassador to Copenhagen until 1754, when he begged for his recall, stating that the damp climate was injurious to his health. The king granted his request, and the baron returned to Berlin. At the first audience with the king, Frederick handed Baron von Arnim a carefully-packed box, saying, “I do not wish the government to lose so valuable a servant; in this box you will find something that will keep you warm.” Arnim could scarcely await his return home, to open the box; it contained nothing but cotton. Some days afterward, however, the king increased Von Arnim’s income a thousand dollars, and sent him ambassador to Dresden. Von Arnim was afterward director of the Royal Theatre until dismissed in the above manner.]
“Sire, I have heard all, but I cannot believe it.”