“Jealous? you are jealous, then, of some other artiste,” said the king, releasing Barbarina from his arms.

“Yes, sire, I am jealous!—­jealous of your smiles, of your applause; of the public voice, of the bravos, which like a golden shower have fallen upon me alone, and which I must now divide with another!”

“Of whom, then, are you jealous?” said the king.

She threw her head back proudly, a crimson blush blazed upon her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled angrily.

“Why has this Marianna Cochois been engaged?  Why has Baron von Swartz put this contempt upon me?” said she fiercely.  “To engage another artiste is to say to the world, that Barbarina no longer pleases, that she no longer has the power to enrapture the public, that her triumphs are over, and her day is past!  Oh! this thought has made me wild!  Is not Barbarina the first dancer of the world?  Can it be that another prima donna, and not the Barbarina, is engaged for the principal role in a new and splendid ballet?  Does Barbarina live, and has she not murdered the one who dared to do this, to bring this humiliation upon her?”

Tears gushed from her eyes, and sobbing loudly, she hid her face in her hands.  The king gazed sadly upon her, and a weary smile played upon his lip.

“You are all alike—­all,” said he, bitterly, “and the great artiste is even as narrow-minded and pitiful as the unknown and humble; you are all weak, vain, envious, and swayed by small passions; and to think that you, Barbarina, are not an exception; that the Barbarina weeps because Marianna Cochois is to play the principal role in the new ballet, ‘Toste Galanti.’”

“She shall not, she dare not,” cried Barbarina; “I will not suffer this humiliation; I will not be disgraced, dishonored in Berlin; I will not sit unnoticed in a loge, and listen to the bravos and plaudits awarded to another artiste which belong to me alone!  Oh, sire, do not allow this shame to be put upon me!  Command that this part, which is mine, which belongs to me by right of the world-wide fame which I have achieved, be given to me!  I implore your majesty to take this role from the Cochois, and restore it to me.”

“That is impossible, Barbarina.  The Cochois, like every other artiste, must have her debut.  Baron Swartz has given her the principal part in ‘Toste Galanti,’ and I cannot blame him.”

“Oh! your majesty, I beseech you to listen.  Is it not true—­will you not bear witness to the fact that Barbarina has never put your liberality and magnanimity to the test; that she has never shown herself to be egotistical or mercenary?  I ask nothing from my king but his heart, the happiness to sit at his feet, and in the sunshine of his eyes to bathe my being in light and gladness.  Sire, you have often complained that I desired and would accept nothing from you; that diamonds and pearls had no attraction for me.  You know that not the slightest shadow of selfishness has fallen upon my love!  Now, then, I have a request to-day:  I ask something from my king which is more precious in my eyes than all the diamonds of the world.  Give me this role; that is, allow me to remain in the undisturbed possession of my fame.”  She bowed her knee once more before the king, but this time he did not raise her in his arms.