THE FIGURE. I--I am the Princess of Basque!

_They stare at her_.

_Mid-day. Yellow curtains have been drawn across the broad window. On the wide seat, the King, dressed in purple robes, sits with head bowed in thought.... There is a noise of shouting outside. The King looks up_.

THE KING. (_sadly_) There it is again.

THE GYPSY. (_entering_) Your majesty--

THE KING. You? What are you doing here?

THE GYPSY. Your majesty, the palace is in a turmoil. The attendants are helping the soldiers keep order among the crowd in the courtyard--the gentlemen-in-waiting are receiving deputations with wedding presents-- the women are distributing medals bearing the image of the bride. All the city is celebrating her unexpected arrival, and rejoicing with you in your presumed happiness. In this disturbed state of affairs, _I_ have been drafted into your majesty's service, and come to bring you a message.

THE KING. (_bitterly_) I hoped I would never see you again. It all began with you. If I were a superst.i.tious person I would say you brought misfortune with you into this house. Before you came this morning, everything was as it had always been--orderly and regular.

What is your message? That madwoman has not escaped, has she?

THE GYPSY. The young woman who calls herself the Princess of Basque is safe under lock and key, according to your majesty's orders.

THE KING. Is she well guarded?

THE GYPSY. The soldier who conducted her from the room this morning is keeping guard at the door, your majesty. I recognized him by the black eye she gave him.

THE KING. Good. What is your news?

THE GYPSY. Your majesty, I am bidden to tell you that the Royal Archivist, whom you bade to search through the histories of your royal ancestors for some precedent to guide you in this matter, has locked himself with his forty a.s.sistants in the royal library, and cannot be roused by knocking.

THE KING. They have fallen asleep among the archives.... What else?

THE GYPSY. Your majesty, the Royal Physician has been summoned, according to your orders, to examine the young woman as to her sanity.

But she refuses to answer all questions, a.s.serting that she is in a state of abounding health, and is in no need of the services of a physician.

THE KING. How can we prove her mad if she will not answer questions!

THE GYPSY. Further, I am bidden to tell you that the watchman on the tower has seen two hors.e.m.e.n in the far distance galloping toward the city. They come by the eastern road, and it is believed that they are couriers from the King of Basque.

THE KING. This matter must be settled before they arrive. Is there anything else?

THE GYPSY. Yes, your majesty. The Eldest of the Wise Men has come here in answer to your summons.

THE KING. Bring him in. And do you remain here in attendance.

THE GYPSY. Yes, your majesty.

_He goes to the door_.

THE KING. This would never have happened to my ancestors. Not to Otho, nor Magnus, nor Carolus, nor Gavaine. Am I less than these? Perhaps I am, but the same blood flows in my veins, and while it flows I shall rule as they ruled.

_The Gypsy ushers in the Eldest of the Wise Men_.

THE WISE MAN. Your majesty--

THE KING. I have sent for you, O Eldest of the Wise Men, in an hour of extreme perplexity. Not lightly would I have torn you from your meditations. I have need of your wisdom.

THE WISE MAN. Whatever your majesty wishes to know, I shall answer out of the fulness of knowledge born of long study and deep reflection.

Speak, O King! Is it of Infinity that you would ask? or of Eternity?-- or of the Absolute?

THE KING. Nothing so simple. I want to know what to do with a madwoman who climbed in at my window an hour since, a.s.serting herself to be the daughter of the King of Basque, and my affianced bride--and with a misguided populace which insists upon celebrating my alleged happiness.

(_The tumult is heard outside, this time with a harsh note in it. The King starts, turning to the Gypsy_.) Is _that_ a sound of rejoicing?

THE GYPSY. No, your majesty. That sound means that the rumour has just spread among them that the Princess of Basque has been falsely imprisoned in the palace. They are calling for blood.

THE KING. What! An uprising against me?

THE GYPSY. Not at all, your majesty. They hold your majesty blameless.

They believe that you have been deceived by the false counsel of the Eldest of the Wise Men. It is his blood they are calling for.

THE KING. (_to the Eldest of the Wise Men_) There you have it! That, as some one has admirably phrased it, is the situation in a nutsh.e.l.l. What shall we do?

THE WISE MAN. (_stupefied_) But your majesty--!

THE KING. Your advice--what is it? Come, be quick. Out of your wisdom, born of long study and deep reflection, speak the word that shall set this jangled chaos in order once more.

THE WISE MAN. Your majesty, I am afraid I do not understand these things. If you had asked me about the Absolute--

THE KING. There is no Absolute any more! The Absolute has been missing from this kingdom--and for all I know, from the Universe--since half- past six o'clock this morning. No one regrets its absence more than I.

There can be no comfort, no peace, no order, without an Absolute. But we must face the facts. The Absolute is gone, and this kingdom will be without one until I restore it with my own hands. I shall set about doing so immediately. And meanwhile, old man, you had better seek some safe corner where my misguided populace cannot lay hands on you.

THE WISE MAN. Your majesty--

THE KING. Go. We have business to attend to. (_The Eldest of the Wise Men goes out_.) And now, you sharp-nosed scoundrel, I want some of _your_ advice! When the roof of the world has fallen in, there are no precedents, wisdom is worthless, and the opinion of one man is as good as that of another,--if not better. So what have you to suggest?

THE GYPSY. Your majesty, before I make my suggestion, let me confess to you that I had underrated the force of your majesty's personality. Not until this moment have I understood that you possess the qualities of kingship as well as the t.i.tle of king.

THE KING. Well, what of that?

THE GYPSY. This, your majesty. There is only one man in your kingdom who can cope with this girl whom you call mad. Your servants cannot do it. As I pa.s.sed by the room where she is imprisoned, I heard the soldier whose eye she blacked talking to her. He was saying that it was a great honour to have had a black eye from her hands, and he was begging her autograph. If she had desired to escape, she could have done so--he is her devoted slave. And the doctor who went to examine her as to her sanity has stayed to talk to her about horse-breaking.

That, as you know, is his avocation; and he has found in her a woman who knows more about it than he does. He sits there like a man entranced. They are all putty in her hands.

THE KING. (_impatiently_) Get to the point.

THE GYPSY. I have said that there is only one man in the kingdom who can cope with her. And that man is your majesty's self.

THE KING. I?

THE GYPSY. Yes--you must go to her yourself.

THE KING. There's an idea. But what am I to do then?