“Yes, that is true,” said she, raising herself up proudly; “he brought me here by force; he has acted like a barbarian, a cold-blooded tyrant!”

“Signora,” said Frederick, menacingly, “one does not speak so of kings.”

“And why not?” she said, passionately.  “What is your king to me?  What claim has he upon my love, upon my consideration, or even my obedience?  What has he done for me, that I should regard him otherwise than as a tyrant?  What is he to me?  I am myself a queen; yes, and believe me, a proud and an obstinate one!  Who and what is this king, whom I do not know, whom I have never seen, who has forgotten that I am a woman, yes, forgotten that he is a man, though he bears the empty title of a king?  A true king is always and only a gallant cavalier in his conduct to women.  If he fails in this, he is contemptible and despised.”

“How! you despise the king?” said Frederick, who really enjoyed this unaccustomed scene.

“Yes, I despise him! yes, I hate him!” cried the Barbarina, with a wild and stormy outbreak of her southern nature.  “I no longer pray to God for my own happiness; that this cruel king has destroyed.  I pray to God for revenge; yes, for vengeance upon this man, who has no heart, and who tramples the hearts of others under his feet.  And God will help me.  I shall revenge myself on this man.  I have sworn it—­I will keep my word!  Go, sir, and tell this to your king; tell him to beware of Barbarina.  Greater, bolder, more magnanimous than he, I warn him!  Cunningly; slyly, unwarned, by night I was fallen upon by spies, and dragged like a culprit to Berlin.”

The king had no wish to put an end to this piquant scene; he was only accustomed to the voice of praise and of applause; it was a novelty, and therefore agreeable to be so energetically railed at and abused.

“Do you not fear that the king will be angry when I repeat your words?”

“Fear!  What more can your king do, that I should fear him?  Yes, he is a king; but am not I a queen?  This paltry kingdom is but a small portion of the world, which is mine, wholly mine; it belongs to me, as it belongs to the eagle who spreads her proud wings and looks down upon her vast domains; he has millions in his treasury, but they are pressed from the pockets of his poor subjects; he requires many agents to collect his gold, and his people give it grudgingly, but my subjects bring their tribute joyfully and lay it at my feet with loving words.  Look you! look at these two little feet:  they are my assessors; they collect the taxes from my people, and all the dwellers in Europe are mine.  These are my agents, they bring me in millions of gold; they are also my avengers, by their aid I shall revenge myself on your barbaric king.”