"And I have no desire to sit at home and talk nothingnesses with the fools His Majesty appoints for my service." "Take a care," cried Frederick Augustus. "Don't be a noodle and a coward," I answered hotly. "Louise, remember that I am an army officer." "What has that to do with my going to the theatre?" "It's the height of audacity to defy the King." "It would be the depth of cowardice to stay at home." "Take back that word, or----" "I wish Your Royal Highness a very pleasant evening," I said, indulging in a low genuflexion. Frederick Augustus got blue with rage. I saw him clench his fists as I swept out of the room, making as much noise with my train as I could manage. "An out-rider," I commanded the Master of Horse who stood in the ante-chamber awaiting me. "At your Imperial Highness' commands," bowed the Baron with the most astonished face in the world. We use out-riders, that is grooms in livery, to ride ahead of the royal carriage, only on state occasions in Dresden. But, of course, my orders would be obeyed even if I had demanded twelve grooms to attend me. I was just going out, preceded by my Chamberlain and followed by my ladies, Baroness Tisch and _Fraeulein_ von Schoenberg; there were two lackeys at the door and in the corridor stood the groom-in-waiting, holding several lap-robes for me to decide which to take, when the Prince caught up with me. "I forbid you to go to the theatre," he bawled in the presence of my titled entourage and three servants. I realized at once that this was the supreme moment of my life at the court of Saxony. Either bend or break. If I allowed myself to be roared at and ordered about like a servant-wench--goodbye the Imperial Highness! Enter the Jenny-Sneak German housewife, greedy for her master's smile and willing to accept an occasional kick. The Prince had begun this family brawl in public. I would finish. "I won't take orders," I held forth. "No commands, understand, princely, royal or otherwise. And be advised, now and for all time, that I will answer any attempt to brutalize me by immediate departure, or by seeking refuge with the Austrian Ambassador." If Frederick Augustus had suddenly become Mrs. Lot he wouldn't have been more conspicuous for utter petrification and silence. He stared at me with wide-open, bleary eyes and if I had taken him by the neck and feet and dropped him out of the window, as his ancestor Augustus of the three-hundred and fifty-two took the "spook" sent into his bedroom by Joseph the First, he wouldn't have offered the ghost of resistance, I dare say. "Your arm, Mr. Chamberlain, since His Royal Highness doesn't wish to accompany us." And I swept out of the ante-chamber and through the corridor, triumphant.