"I laugh at it!" said she, looking fiercely at the king. "Do you not know, sir, that this applause, these bravos, are to the artiste as the sound of a trumpet to the gallant war-horse, they invigorate and inspire, and swell the heart with strength and courage? When the artiste stands upon the stage, the saloon before him is his heaven, and there his judges sit, to bestow eternal happiness or eternal condemnation; to crown him with immortal fame, or cover him with shame and confusion. Now, sir, that I have explained to you that the stage saloon is our heaven, and the spectators are our judges, you will understand that these bravos are to us as the music of the spheres." "Yes, I comprehend," said the king, smiling; "but you must be indulgent; in this theatre etiquette forbids applause. You have danced to-day before an invited audience, who pay nothing, and therefore have not the right to blame or praise; no one dare applaud--no one but the king." "Ha! and this rude man did not applaud!" cried she, showing her small teeth, and raising her hand threateningly toward heaven. "Perhaps he was motionless and drunk from rapture," said the king, bowing gracefully; "when he sees you dance again, he will have more control over himself, and will, perhaps, applaud you heartily." "Perhaps?" cried she. "I shall not expose myself to this 'perhaps.' I will dance no more. My foot is sore, and your king cannot force me to dance." "No, he cannot force you, but you will do it willingly; you will dance for him again this evening, of your own free will." Barbarina answered by one burst of wild, demoniac laughter, expressive of her scorn and her resentment. "You will dance again this evening," repeated Frederick, and his keen eye gazed steadily into that of Barbarina, who, though weeping bitterly, shook her lovely head, and gave him back bravely glance for glance. "You will dance, Barbarina, because, if you do not, you are lost. I do not mean by this that you are lost because the king will punish you for your obstinacy. The king is no Bluebeard; he neither murders women nor confines them in underground prisons; he has no torture chambers ready for you; for the King of Prussia, whom you hate so fiercely, has abolished the torture throughout his kingdom--the torture, which still flourishes luxuriantly by the side of oranges and myrtles in your beautiful Italy. No, signora, the king will not punish you if you persist in your obstinacy; he will only send you away, that is all." "And that is my only wish, all that I ask of Fate." "You do not know yourself. You, who are an artiste, who are a lovely woman, who are ambitious, and look upon fame as worth striving for, you would not lose your power, trample under foot your ambition, see your rare beauty slighted, and your enchanting grace despised?" "I cannot see why all these terrible things will come to pass if I refuse to dance again before your king?"