And now there was an outburst of admiration and enthusiasm.  Yes, there she was; rosy, glowing, perfumed, tender, enchanting, and intoxicating, she floated onward in her robe of silver.  Her magical smile disclosed her small, pearly teeth and laughing dimples; her great, mysterious black eyes understood the art of flattery and of menace; in both they were irresistible.  Noiselessly she floated onward to the front of the stage.  Now, with indescribable grace, she bowed her body backward, and standing on tiptoe she raised her rounded arms high over her head, and looked upward, with a sweet smile, to a wreath of roses which she held.

“Wondrous, most wondrous!” cried suddenly a full, clear voice.  It was the young state councillor, Von Cocceji, who sat in the proscenium box near the stage, and gazed with beaming eyes on Barbarina.

Barbarina turned toward him, and smiled sweetly.  The king frowned, and played rather fiercely with his snuff-box.

“Wondrous!” repeated Cocceji, and threw a threatening, scornful glance upon a thin, wan young man who sat near him, and who dared, in a small, weak voice to repeat the “wondrous” of the young athlete.  “I pray you, sir, to refrain from the expression of your applause, or, if that is impossible, choose your own words, and not mine to convey your approbation,” said the six-footed giant, Cocceji, to his pallid neighbor.

The latter looked with a sort of horror at the broad-shouldered, muscular figure before him, and scarcely daring to breathe loudly, he looked with wide-open, staring eyes at Barbarina, who was now floating with enchanting grace upon the stage.  The audience had entirely forgotten the vague rumors of the day—­thought no more of the king.  Their attention was wholly given to Barbarina and Cocceji, whose eyes were ever fixed threateningly upon his shrinking neighbor.  Suddenly, just as Barbarina had completed one of her most difficult tours and knelt before the lamps to receive the bravos of the spectators, something flew from the loge of Cocceji, and fell exactly at Barbarina’s feet.

This offering was no wreath or bouquet of flowers, no costly gem, but a man, a poor, panting, terrified man, who did not yet comprehend how he came to make this rapid journey through the air, nor why Cocceji with his giant hand had seized him and dashed him upon the stage.

Confused and terrified, the poor bruised youth lay for some moments motionless at the feet of Barbarina; then gathering himself up and bowing profoundly to the king, who regarded him in fierce silence, he said aloud:  “Sire, I pray for pardon; I am not to blame; Cocceji forbade me, in a proud, commanding tone, to look upon the Signora Barbarina.  As I did not choose to obey this arbitrary order, he seized me without warning, and dashed me at the feet of the signora.” [Footnote:  Machler’s “History of Frederick the Great.”] The public, recovering from their astonishment, began to whisper, laugh merrily, and gaze ironically at the young man, who stood humble and wan near Barbarina; while Cocceji, turning his bold, daring face to the audience, seemed to threaten every man who looked upon him questioningly.  The orchestra was silent.  Barbarina stood radiant in grace and beauty, and smiled bewitchingly upon Cocceji.