"Etiquette is nonsense and folly, and shall not do the honors by our petits soupers; pleasure only presides." "Then I propose that we invite some of the ladies from the theatre-- is your majesty content?" "Fully! but which of the ladies?" said the king. "That is your majesty's affair," said Rothenberg, smiling. "You have selected the gentlemen, will it please you to name the ladies?" "Well, then," said the king, hesitating, "what say you to Cochois, Astrea, and the little Petrea?" "Sire, they will be all most welcome; but I pray you to allow me to add one name to your list, the name of a woman who is more lovely, more gracious, more intellectual, more alluring, than all the prima donnas of the world; who has the power to intoxicate all men, not excepting emperors and kings, and make them her willing slaves. Dare I name her, sire?" "Certainly." "The Signora Barbarina." The king turned his head hastily, and his burning eyes rested questioningly upon the face of Rothenberg, who met his glance with a merry look. Frederick was silent; and the general, making a profound bow, said solemnly: "I pray your majesty to allow me to invite Mesdames Cochois, Astrea, and Petrea, also the Signora Barbarina, to our petit souper." "Four prima donnas at once!" said the king, laughing; "that would be dangerous; we would, perhaps, have the interesting spectacle of seeing them tear out each other's eyes. No, no! to enjoy the glories of the sun, there must be no rival suns in the horizon; we will invite but one enchantress, and as you are the host, you have the undoubted right to select her. Let it be then the Signora Barbarina." [Footnote: Rodenbeck: "Journal of Frederick the Great."] "Your majesty graciously permits me to invite the Signora Barbarina?" said Rothenberg, looking the king steadily in the face; a rich blush suffused the cheeks of Frederick. Suddenly he laughed aloud, and laying his arm around the neck of his friend, he looked in his radiant face with an expression of confidence and love. "You are a provoking scamp," said Frederick. "You understood me from the beginning, and left me hanging, like Absalom, upon the tree. That was cruel, Rothenberg." "Cruel, but well deserved, sire. Why would you not make known your wishes clearly? Why leave me to guess them?" "Why? My God! it is sometimes so agreeable and convenient to have your wishes guessed. The murder is out. You will invite the beautiful Barbarina. You can also invite another gentleman, an artist, in order that the lovely Italian may not feel so lonely amongst us barbarians." "What artist, sire?" "The painter Pesne; go yourself to invite him. It might be well for him to bring paper and pencil--he will assuredly have an irresistible desire to make a sketch of this beautiful nymph." "Command him to do so, sire, and then to make a life-size picture from the sketch." "Ah! so you wish a portrait of the Barbarina?" "Yes, sire; but not for myself." "For whom, then?"