“In so saying, sire, you condemn us all, we who are the most faithful, submissive, and enthusiastic friends of your highness.”

“You are also useful to me,” said the king.  “You, for example, your cheerful, loving face does me good whenever I look upon it.  You keep my heart young and fresh, and teach me to laugh, which pleasant art I am constantly forgetting in the midst of these wearisome and hypocritical men.  I never laugh so merrily as when I am with you at your table, where I have the high privilege of laying aside my royalty, and being a simple, happy man like yourself.  I rejoice in the prospect of this evening, and I am impatient as a young maiden before her first ball.  This evening, if I remember correctly, I am invited by General von Rothenberg to a petit souper.”

“Your majesty was kind enough to promise me that you would come.”

“Do you know, Rothenberg, I really believe that the expectation of this fete has made the hours of the day so long and wearisome.  Now, tell me, who are we to have? who takes part in our gayety?”

“Those who were selected by your majesty:  Chazot and Algarotti, Jordan and Bielfeld.”

“Did I select the company?” said the king, thoughtfully; “then I wonder that—­” He stopped, and, looking down, turned away silently.

“What causes your majesty’s wonder?” said the general.

“I am surprised that I did not ask you to give us Rhine wine this evening,” said the king, with a sly smile.

“Rhine wine! why, your majesty has often told me that it was a slow poison, and produced death.”

“Yes, that is true, but what will you have?  There are many things in this incomprehensible world which are poisonous, and which, for that reason, are the more alluring.  This is peculiarly so with women.  He does well who avoids them; they bewilder our reason and make our hearts sick, but we do not flee from them.  We pursue them, and the poison which they infuse in our veins is sweet; we quaff it rapturously, though death is in the cup.”

“In this, however, your majesty is wiser than all other men:  you alone have the power to turn away from or withstand them.”

“Who knows? perhaps that is sheer cowardice,” said the king; he turned away confused, and beat with his fingers upon the window-glass.  “I called the Rhine wine poison, because of its strength.  I think now that it alone deserves to be called wine—­it is the only wine which has bloom.”  Frederick was again silent, and beat a march upon the window.

The general looked at him anxiously and thoughtfully; suddenly his countenance cleared, and a half-suppressed smile played upon his lips.

“I will allow myself to add a conclusive word to those of my king, that is, a moral to his fable.  Your majesty says Rhine wine is the only wine which deserves the name, because it alone has bloom.  So I will call that society only society which is graced and adorned by women.  Women are the bloom of society.  Do you not agree with me, sire?”