KING (aside).
Has Seckendorf, or any of the others, been talking to him? Is he trying to please me? [Aloud.] A nice little country, that Baireuth of yours. Soil somewhat stony, though!—doesn't yield your father much revenue, I dare say!
PRINCE.
We're learning to improve the soil. [Aside.] These geographical prejudices!
KING.
Trying to improve it by the pleasure palaces your father is building? What's got into the man? Puts up one gimcrack after another, as if he were Louis Quatorze—and runs his country into debt meanwhile. About how much debt does your country carry?
PRINCE (aside).
I don't know that myself. [Aloud, saucily.] Ten millions.
KING.
Ten millions?