“Pardon me,” said the Prince. “I will even tell you what that medal bears: a Phœnix burning, with the word Libertas.” The medallist remaining speechless, “You are a pretty fellow,” continued Otto, smiling, “to complain of incivility from the man whom you conspire to murder.”
“Murder!” protested the man. “Nay, never that; nothing criminal for me!”
“You are strangely misinformed,” said Otto. “Conspiracy itself is criminal, and ensures the pain of death. Nay, sir, death it is; I will guarantee my accuracy. Not that you need be so deplorably affected, for I am no officer. But those who mingle with politics should look at both sides of the medal.”
“Your Highness ...” began the knight of the bottle.
“Nonsense! you are a Republican,” cried Otto; “what have you to do with highnesses? But let us continue to ride forward. Since you so much desire it, I cannot find it in my heart to deprive you of my company. And for that matter, I have a question to address to you. Why, being so great a body of men—for you are a great body—fifteen thousand, I have heard, but that will be understated; am I right?”
The man gurgled in his throat.
“Why, then, being so considerable a party,” resumed Otto, “do you not come before me boldly with your wants?—what do I say? with your commands? Have I the name of being passionately devoted to my throne? I can scarce suppose it. Come, then; show me your majority, and I will instantly resign. Tell this to your friends; assure them from me of my docility; assure them that, however they conceive of my deficiencies, they cannot suppose me more unfit to be a ruler than I do myself. I am one of the worst princes in Europe; will they improve on that?”
“Far be it from me ...” the man began.
“See, now, if you will not defend my government!” cried Otto. “If I were you, I would leave conspiracies. You are as little fit to be a conspirator as I to be a king.”
“One thing I will say out,” said the man. “It is not so much you that we complain of, it’s your lady.”