“But his grace seems to be really sick,” remarked the chamberlain.  “Only see, doctor, how pale he is!  Cold sweat is standing on his brow, and he moans pitiably.”

“Yes, yes, he undoubtedly has pain,” said the physician gravely.  “Such instances occur after a rich feast, where they eat many things together, and drink besides.  I shall prescribe a composing draught for his grace, which must be administered regularly every fifteen minutes.”

And the physician repaired to the Prince’s cabinet adjoining his sleeping room, to write his prescription.  Chamberlain von Goetz gazed gloomily upon the sick man, who just at this moment uttered a loud scream, and with outstretched arms and clinched hands tossed restlessly about.  Old Dietrich bent over him and wiped the perspiration from his forehead.

“He is really very sick,” murmured the chamberlain.  “There is nothing for it but to stay here.  He must not be left alone.”

“No, Herr von Goetz,” said Dietrich, his old face looking perfectly tranquil and composed—­“no; the Prince ordered me to desire you to return immediately to the party, and not to tarry longer here.  My young master condescendingly owned to me himself that it was actually the strong Hungarian wine which had occasioned his sickness, and therefore his highness wishes the Chamberlain von Goetz to return forthwith to the party, that his gracious mother may not be made uneasy, and imagine that her son is seriously sick.  The Electoral Prince’s orders are that you say to his mother that perhaps he may return himself to the entertainment this evening, and that she must not allow herself to be at all anxious, for he will certainly be well again to-morrow.”

“That is a fine errand,” exclaimed the chamberlain, “and the Electress will be much comforted by such a message.  But, nevertheless, I can not possibly leave the Electoral Prince alone for the whole evening.”

“He is not alone, for I am with him,” replied Dietrich, shaking his head.  “I, too, am a man, Chamberlain von Goetze, and such my gracious young master esteems me, for he gave express orders that I alone should stay with him, and that nobody else should be admitted until early to-morrow morning.  His grace would sleep soundly he said, and rest was the best medicine for him.”

“But he must take the medicine that the doctor prescribes for him,” said the chamberlain earnestly.  “You must insist that the Electoral Prince take his medicine regularly.”

“Dismiss all anxiety, Herr von Goetz,” replied Dietrich solemnly; “I shall see to it that the Prince regularly takes the medicine he needs.”

“Here is the prescription!” called out the doctor, entering the chamber and holding out a long strip of paper.  “Hurry with it to the apothecary, for I fear its preparation may occasion some little delay, since it is a nice and particular recipe, and consists of fourteen component parts.  But it will surely work a cure and afford his highness relief.  I shall come again this evening and see how my exalted patient is getting on.”