ul! Can he laugh?

THE INCA. Certainly, madam. [He laughs, harshly and mirthlessly.] Ha ha!
Ha ha ha!

ERMYNTRUDE [frigidly]. I asked could the Inca laugh. I did not ask could
you laugh.

THE INCA. That is true, madam. [Chuckling.] Devilish amusing, that!
[He laughs, genially and sincerely, and becomes a much more agreeable
person.] Pardon me: I am now laughing because I cannot help it. I am
amused. The other was merely an imitation: a failure, I admit.

ERMYNTRUDE. You intimated that you had some business?

THE INCA [producing a very large jewel case, and relapsing into
solemnity.] I am instructed by the Allerhochst to take a careful note
of your features and figure, and, if I consider them satisfactory, to
present you with this trifling token of His Imperial Majesty's regard.
I do consider them satisfactory. Allow me [he opens the jewel case and
presents it.]

ERMYNTRUDE [staring at the contents]. What awful taste he must have! I
can't wear that.

THE INCA [reddening]. Take care, madam! This brooch was designed by the
Inca himself. Allow me to explain the design. In the centre, the shield
of Arminius. The ten surrounding medallions represent the ten castles
of His Majesty. The rim is a piece of the telephone cable laid by His
Majesty across the Shipskeel canal. The pin is a model in miniature of
the sword of Henry the Birdcatcher.

ERMYNTRUDE. Miniature! It must be bigger than the original. My good man,
you don't expect me to wear this round my neck: it's as big as a turtle.
[He shuts the case with an angry snap.] How much did it cost?

THE INCA. For materials and manufacture alone, half a million Perusalem
dollars, madam. The Inca's design constitutes it a work of art. As such,
it is now worth probably ten million dollars.

ERMYNTRUDE. Give it to me [she snatches it]. I'll pawn it and buy
something nice with the money.

THE INCA. Impossible, madam. A design by the Inca must not be exhibited
for sale in the shop window of a pawnbroker. [He flings himself into his
chair, fuming.]

ERMYNTRUDE. So much the better. The Inca will have to redeem it to save
himself from that disgrace; and the poor pawnbroker will get his money
back. Nobody would buy it, you know.

THE INCA. May I ask why?

ERMYNTRUDL. Well, look at it! Just look at it! I ask you!

THE INCA [his moustache drooping ominously]. I am sorry to have to
report to the Inca that you have no soul for fine art. [He rises
sulkily.] The position of da