The King. What are you looking for? Clara. It is time to look for the Baroness. The King. She is up on that slope. Shall I call her? Or--perhaps you would like to see a fine view? Clara. Yes. The King. Then let us go up to her together! (They go.) ACT III SCENE I (SCENE. An open place in the town. It is evening, and the square is badly lit. On the right is the club, a large building, standing alone; lights are shining from all its windows. Steps lead from the door, above which is a balcony. The square is full of people. In the background, standing on the lowest step of the pedestal of an equestrian statue, is a BALLAD SINGER, singing to the accompaniment of his guitar. Cigars, oranges, and other wares are being sold by hawkers. The singer's voice is heard before the curtain rises. The crowd gradually joins him in the refrain which he repeats after each verse of his ballad.) The Ballad Singer (sings). The Princeling begged and begged and begged Her love, on bended knee. The Maid said craftily, "Nay, nay, I doubt your high degree!" Refrain. She knew the might, the might, the might Of love's distracting hour; How royalty, with all its pomp, Will curtsey to its power. The Princeling said: "Consent, my dear, And you shall marry me." The Maiden answered mockingly, "Over the left, maybe!" "Nay, as my Queen, enchanting maid, And that this very day!" The Maiden answered him, "Gadzooks!" And fainted right away. Recovering, she sighed, "My Lord, Princesses will be wroth; On every side they sit and wait To plight to you their troth." He answered, "Bosh!"--"But what of those Who counselled you before?" "Whom do you mean?"--"Your ministers!" "I'll show them to the door!" "But think, my dear--your generals, Your nobles, court, and priest; They'll try to drag you from my side Or shun us as the pest." "Nay, be not feared! I'll make you more By dozens at a word, Who'll bow and grovel if they be To rank and place preferred." "But think of the republicans! My father!--what if he--?" "The cock that crows the loudest, then, Prime minister shall be!" "Suppose the people stoutly swear They'll none of me?"--"Nay, nay, An order here, a title there, And all will homage pay." "Then I am yours!"--"Hurrah!" He holds Her tight his arms between; "Nay, not so fast, my kingly love! Not till I am your Queen!" She knew the might, the might, the might Of love's distracting hour; How royalty, with all its pomp, Will curtsey to its power. An Old Gentleman (to another). What is going on here? Second Old Gentleman. I don't know. I have only just come. A Workman. Why, the King is coming past here with her! First Old Gentleman. Coming past here with her? To hold a court at the palace? The Workman. Yes. Second Old Gentleman (taking a pinch of snuff). And I suppose those fellows in the club mean to make a demonstration?--hiss them, or something of that sort? The Workman. So they say.