“To change the subject, I hope your Highness is resolved to second my efforts in the direction of order by strictly enforcing the brawling edict,” the Chancellor observed, in a tone less of enquiry than injunction.
“Why, certainly, certainly,” his highness responded.
“A man was killed in the streets a few nights since,” Rollmar continued; “outside the Hof-Theater. This sort of thing is abominable and cannot be permitted. Brawling leads to riot and riot to revolution.”
“Heaven forbid,” ejaculated the Duke.
“It must be put down with a strong hand.”
“Assuredly, Baron. I leave that to you.”
“Clemency is entirely out of place, your Highness.”
“None shall be shewn. Is the offender in this case under arrest?”
“Unfortunately not, Sire. But he is well known, and is sure to be taken. I have made a point of insisting that he shall not escape.”
“Good. Yes, we must put down disorder even at the cost of a little disagreeable severity, eh, Baron?”