JACKPUD.

You can introduce nothing new; there are too many working at
the trade.

LEANDER.

The fool, my king, can never understand such a thing; on the
whole I am surprised that your majesty is still amused by his insipid
ideas. Even in Germany they tired of him, and here in Utopia you have
taken him up where thousands of the most wonderful and clever
amusements are at our service. He should be thrown out at once, for he
only brings your taste into bad repute.

KING (_throws the sceptre at his head_).

Sir Brazenbold of a scholar!
What do you dare to say? The fool pleases _me, me_, his king, and if I
like him, how dare you say that the man is ridiculous? You are the
court scholar and he the court fool; you both have equal positions;
the only difference is that he is dining at the little table with the
strange hunter. The fool displays his nonsense at the table, and you
carry on an intelligent conversation at the table; both are only to
while away the time for me and make my meal taste good: where, then,
lies the great difference? Furthermore, it does us good to see a fool
who is more stupid than we, who has not the same gifts; why, then, one
feels greater oneself and is grateful to heaven; even on that account
I like to have a blockhead around.

[THE COOK _serves the rabbit and goes_.]

KING.

The rabbit! I do not know--I suppose the other gentlemen do not
care for it?

ALL (_bow_).

KING.

Well, then, with your permission, I will keep it for myself.
(_He eats._)

PRINCESS.

It seems to me the king is making faces as though he were
getting an attack again.

KING (_rising in rage_).

The rabbit is burned! Oh, earth! Oh, pain!
What keeps me from sending the cook right down to Orcus as fast as
possible?

PRINCESS.

My father!

KING.

How did this stranger lose his way among the people? His eyes
are dry--

ALL (_arise very sadly_, JACKPUDDING _runs back and forth busily_,
HINZE _remains seated and eats steadily_).

KING.

A long, long, good night; no morning will ever brighten it.

PRINCESS.

Do have some one fetch the peacemaker.

KING.

May the Cook Philip be Hell's cry of jubilee when an ungrateful
wretch is burned to ashes!

PRINCESS.

Where can the musician be!

KING.

To be or not to be--

[_The peacemaker enters with a set of musical bells and begins to play
them at once._]

KING.

What is the matter with me? (_Weeping._) Alas! I have already