Rota withdraws the document.

In order to mark the festal character of the evening's performance, the
intendant had selected music by celebrated composers, for the
_entr'actes_. The malicious maintained that this was only done in order
to prevent discussion of the play, which had not been performed for
many years. If this had really been the intention, the lively
conversation, both in the royal box and among the rest of the audience,
prevented its success.

In reply to a remark of the king's, the intendant said:

"The role of Rota, although insignificant, is quite a graceful one,
and, in this, Lessing has proved himself the master. Another advantage
is that the part can be played by a veteran."

The queen looked around in surprise--was this mere acting, instead of a
living, thrilling fact?

They went on with the play. The scene between Appiani and Marinelli
aroused tumultuous applause. The queen never once left her place,
although it was her wont between the acts to retire to the _salon_ near
her box; and Irma, as first maid of honor, was obliged to remain in
attendance.

Between the third and fourth acts, the lord steward met Bronnen in the
corridor and said: "If they would only get through with this
confounded, democratic play. The sweet rabble down there may become
demonstrative." The next act was the fourth, containing the scene
between Orsina and Marinelli. The queen held her fan with a convulsive
grasp. She saw and heard all that passed on the stage while, with
strained attention, she listened to the quickened breathing of Irma,
who stood behind her. She longed to turn round suddenly and look into
her face, but did not venture to do so. With one and the same glance,
she saw the figures on the stage and watched her husband's countenance.
Her eyes and ears did double service. It was all she could do to
control herself. The play went on. Orsina and Odoardo--if Irma were
now to faint--What then? What had she done in having this piece
performed?--Orsina hands the dagger to her father, and at last rises
into a frenzy of fury. "If we, all of us," she cried, "this whole host
of forsaken ones, were transformed into bacchantes and furies, with him
in our possession, and were tearing him to pieces and rending the flesh
from his limbs--yea, tearing out his vitals in order to find the heart
which the traitor promised to each and yet gave to none! Ah, what a
dance that would be! That would--"

If Irma should cry out!--