‘I was sure of it, Sire, thou hast done too much already,’ exclaimed Divesdale, with the audacity that is engendered of close intimacy. ‘I will myself entreat her to overlook thy naughty conduct, and thy charges against the two men must be withdrawn. By taking conciliatory measures the thing may blow over; but otherwise it may prove very unpleasant for thy Majesty.’ Thus with his raillery, for the Emperor and he were familiar friends, Divesdale had discovered the truth; and now knew for certain what the other minister only guessed at. ‘Conciliatory measures!’ repeated the Emperor, who had by this time recovered himself, and who knew that he had already gone too far to be able to retract with any show of respectability, ‘impossible! She threatened my life, and my prime minister has commanded that a warrant be issued for her detention.’ ‘Surely thy Majesty cannot be in earnest?’ ‘I never was more so,’ the Emperor answered with an assumption of haughtiness. ‘What about Sadbag and Geometrus?’ ‘They too will get served with the same sauce,’ replied Felicitas, with true autocratic audacity. ‘Has the prime minister really advised this measure?’ inquired Divesdale gravely. ‘I have commanded it,’ returned the Emperor sharply. ‘On what grounds?’ ‘Conspiracy; the three had conspired to scandalise me, and take away my character.’ ‘And they’ll do it too!’ cried Divesdale, with his characteristic impulsiveness. ‘They shall have the opportunity of publicly doing what they were bent on privately.’ ‘He has turned dotty, I’m sure of it,’ thought Divesdale, ‘in a monarch a little madness is a great danger. Well,’ said he aloud, ‘thy Majesty hath chosen thine own course and must abide by it, for I will wash my hands of the affair.’ ‘Oh, wash away!’ said Felicitas testily. ‘Thine action against the two men is illegal: no warrant for their imprisonment can be issued: their fault is merely libel, and all Sovereigns are used to that!’ interposed the minister drily. ‘Thou makest a mistake there, friend,’ answered the Emperor with a wise look, ‘remember my royal mother, Victoria the Second, who led such a virtuous life and was so proud thereof, that when the “Times” newspaper published a paragraph announcing that she was about to marry her late husband’s father she was so scandalised thereby that she caused an Act to be passed decreeing that anyone who uttered a serious scandal against the reigning Sovereign should be indicted for high treason, for she held that the good name of the Sovereign should be considered as sacred as their person; under this Act, therefore, are these two scandalmongers to be arrested.’ ‘Ah, yes, I had forgotten it! But that trifle would not be scandal now. Only twelve months ago thy hand signed an Act permitting thy subjects to marry whom they will, save those in the first degree of consanguinity. A man may marry his grandmother now, if he choose!’ ‘Of course,’ admitted the Emperor, ‘only he does not choose, as a rule.’