KING.

Perhaps somewhere near the savages?

NATHAN.

I beg your pardon, all my subjects are very tame.

KING.

But you must live confoundedly far away. I can't get a clear idea of it yet.

NATHAN.

The geography of my country is still not exactly fixed; I expect to discover more every day; and then it may easily come about that we shall even become neighbors in the end.

KING.

That will be splendid! And if, after all, a few countries still stand in our way, I will help you in your discoveries. My neighbor is not a good friend of mine, so to speak, and he has a fine country; all the raisins come from there; why, I should be only too glad to have it! But another thing; do tell me, how, living so far away, can you speak our language so fluently!

NATHAN.

Hush!

KING.

What?

NATHAN.

Hush! hush!

KING.

I do not understand.

NATHANIEL, (_softly to him_).

Do be quiet about it, pray, for otherwise the audience down there will surely notice that it is really very unnatural.

KING.

It doesn't matter. They clapped before and so I can afford to take a chance.

NATHAN.

You see, it is only for the sake of the drama that I speak your language; for otherwise, of course, the matter is incomprehensible.

KING.

Ah, so! Well, come, Prince, the table is set!

[_The_ PRINCE _escorts the princess out, the_ KING _precedes_.]

FISCHER.

Cursed improbabilities there are in this play!

SCHLOSS.

And the king doesn't remain at all true to his character.

LEUTNER.

Why, nothing but the natural should ever be presented on the stage! The prince should speak an altogether unknown language and have an interpreter with him; the princess should make grammatical errors, since she herself admits that she writes incorrectly.

MuLLER.

Of course! Of course! The whole thing is unquestionable nonsense; the author himself is always forgetting what he has said the moment before.

_The scene is laid in front of a tavern._

LORENZ, KUNZ, MICHEL _are sitting on a bench. The_ HOST

LORENZ.

I shall have to be going again soon! I still have a long way home.

HOST.

You are a subject of the king, aren't you?

LORENZ.

Yes, indeed; what do you call your good ruler?

HOST.

He is just called Bugbear.

LORENZ.

That is a foolish t.i.tle. Why, has he no other name?

HOST.

When he has edicts issued, they always read: For the good of the public, the _Law_ demands--hence I believe that is his real name. All pet.i.tions, too, are always laid before the _Law_. He is a fearful man.

LORENZ.