“There is no purple left to infect a man with, in the modern slum of Royalty!” he said; “Tobacco-smoke, not incense, perfumes the palaces of the great nowadays--and card-playing is more appreciated than music! Yet I and my fiddle have made many long journeys lately,--and we have sent our messages of Heaven thrilling through the callous horrors of Hell! A few nights since, I played at the Russian Court--before the beautiful Empress--cold as a stone--with her great diamonds flashing on her unhappy breast,--before the Emperor, whose furtive eyes gazed unseeingly before him, as though black Fate hovered in the air--before women, whose lives are steeped in the lowest intrigue--before men, whose faces are as bearded masks, covering the wolf’s snarl,--yes!--I played before these,--played with all the chords of my heart vibrating to the violin, till at last a human sigh quivered from the lips of the statuesque Empress,--till a frown crossed the brooding brow of her spouse--till the intriguing women shook off the spell with a laugh, and the men did the same with an oath--and I was satisfied! I received neither ‘pay,’ nor jewel of recognition,--I had played ‘for the honour’ of appearing before their Majesties!--but my bow was a wand to wake the little poisoned asp of despair that stings its way into the heart under every Royal mantle of ermine, and that sufficed me!” “Sometimes,” said Leroy, turning towards him; “I pity kings!” “I’ faith, so do I!” returned Valdor. “But only sometimes! And if you had seen as much of them as I have, the ‘sometimes’ would be rare!” “Yet you play before them?” put in Max Graub.