KING.

Oh, ho! don’t flatter the old—­lackey!  It’s an old affair, this one with
England; my wife has been working at it for years.

PRINCE.

The Queen?  Why, I fancied—­that Her Majesty the Queen was much more in favor of Austria—­

KING.  Austria? [Aside.]

I might have known she would want to put her own will through. [Aloud with decision.] No.  I received today a dispatch from our Ambassador, who assures me that England is thinking seriously of this plan, of this marriage arranged in all secrecy.  The Prince of Wales has taken ship from England; it is supposed that he is already landed on the Hanoverian coast.  Meanwhile, a plenipotentiary has left London, in strictest incognito, on his way to treat with me concerning all the details of the marriage.  The envoy is likely to arrive at any moment.  You would place me under obligations to you, therefore—­

PRINCE (in despair).

Shall it be a pastoral masque?

KING.

Yes.  And the Crown Prince can play the flute for it, since he has learned that art behind my back.

PRINCE (turns to go, but comes back).

And the ladies and gentlemen of the Court are to act in it?

KING.

Surely.  Give every one of them something to say, only not me.  But
Grumbkow must act in it.  Yes, Grumbkow must be in it—­and the ladies
Viereck and Sonnsfeld—­and Seckendorf—­and—­

PRINCE (as above).

Must it be in English or in French?

KING.

Neither.  In German, good, pure, fiery German—­High German, you understand, not the Berlin flavor. [Confidentially.] And if you could bring in a little Dutch somewhere—­certain considerations of commerce would render that very pleasing to me; it will be spoken of in the papers and the Ambassador of Holland will be there—­you see, it’s about the importation of tobacco. [Makes gestures as of smoking and whispers into the PRINCE’S ear.] But I suppose a fine young gentleman like yourself doesn’t smoke.

PRINCE (in despair).

No, Your Majesty—­but my imagination is smoking like any volcano already.

A LACKEY (coming in).

The Privy Councilors urgently pray Your Majesty to receive them.

KING.

Gad, but they must be eaten up by curiosity!  Bring them in. [The lackey goes out.] Well, as I was saying—­an allegorical marriage masque—­that’s what.  Not quite in the style of Versailles.  And yet I want the pre-marital feast to be fine enough to compare favorably with the one they rigged up in Dresden.  Now—­as for Holland.  Put in some verses about the colonies, Prince, about the land where tobacco grows.  You know—­it’s the land where the—­

PRINCE (beside himself).

Where the Bong-tree grows! [He goes out.]