"
"But I _am_ the princess," cried Yolanda, lifting her head and walking
majestically to and fro. "Address me not by that low, plebeian
name, Yolanda."
She stepped upon a chair and thence to the top of the great oak table
that stood in the middle of the room. Drawing the chair up after her she
placed it on the table, and, seating herself on this improvised throne,
lifted one knee over the other, after the manner of her father. She
looked serenely about her in a most amusing imitation of the duke, and
spoke with a deep voice:--
"Heralds!"
No one responded. So she filled the office of herald herself and cried
out:--
"Oyez! Oyez! The princess now gives audience!" Resuming the ducal voice,
she continued, "Are there complaints, my Lord Seneschal?" A pause. "Ah,
our guards have stolen Grion's cow, have they? The devil take Grion and
his cow, too! Hang Grion for complaining." A pause ensues while the duke
awaits the next report. "The Swiss have stolen a sheepskin? Ah, we'll
skin the Swiss. My Lord Seneschal, find me fifty thousand men who are
ready to die for a sheepskin. Body of me! A sheepskin! I do love
it well."
Yolanda's audience was roaring with laughter by this time, but her face
was stern and calm.
"Silence, you fools," she cried hoarsely, but no one was silent, and Max
laughed till the tears came to his eyes. Yolanda on her throne was so
irresistibly bewitching that he ran to her side, grasped her about the
waist, and unceremoniously lifted her to the floor.
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