themselves, and with this view the Acting Temporary Sub-Deputy
Assistant Vice-Chamberlain will sing comic songs in the
Market-place from noon to nightfall. Finally, we have composed a
Wedding Anthem, with which the entire population are required to
provide themselves. It can be obtained from our Grand Ducal
publishers at the usual discount price, and all the Chamberlains
will be expected to push the sale. (Chamberlains bow and
exeunt). I don't feel at all comfortable. I hope I'm not doing
a foolish thing in getting married. After all, it's a poor heart
that never rejoices, and this wedding of mine is the first little
treat I've allowed myself since my christening. Besides,
Caroline's income is very considerable, and as her ideas of
economy are quite on a par with mine, it ought to turn out well.
Bless her tough old heart, she's a mean little darling! Oh, here
she is, punctual to her appointment!
Enter BARONESS VON KRAKENFELDT.
BAR. Rudolph! Why, what's the matter?
RUD. Why, I'm not quite myself, my pet. I'm a little
worried and upset. I want a tonic. It's the low diet, I think.
I am afraid, after all, I shall have to take the bull by the
horns and have an egg with my breakfast.
BAR. I shouldn't do anything rash, dear. Begin with a
jujube. (Gives him one.)
RUD. (about to eat it, but changes his mind). I'll keep it
for supper. (He sits by her and tries to put his arm round her
waist.)
BAR. Rudolph, don't! What in the world are you thinking
of?
RUD. I was thinking of embracing you, my sugarplum. Just
as a little cheap treat.
BAR. What, here? In public? Really, you appear to have
no
sense of delicacy.
RUD. No sense of delicacy, Bon-bon!
BAR. No. I can't make you out. When you courted me, all
your courting was done publicly in the Marketplace. When you
proposed to me, you proposed in the Market-place. And now that
we're engaged you seem to desire that our first tte-
occur in the Marketplace! Surely you've a room in your
Palace—with blinds—that would do?
RUD. But, my own, I can't help myself. I'm bound by my
own
decree.
BAR. Your own decree?
RUD. Yes. You see, all the houses that give on the
Market-place belong to me, but the drains (which date back to the
reign of Charlemagne) want attending to, and the houses wouldn't
let—so, with a view to increasing the value of the property, I
decreed that all love-episodes between affectionate couples
should take place, in public, on this spot, every Monday,
Wednesday, and Friday, when the band doesn't play.
BAR. Bless me, what a happy idea! So moral too! And have
you found it answer?
RUD. Answer? The rents have gone up fifty per cent, and
the sale of opera-glasses (which is a Grand Ducal monopoly) has
received an extraordinary stimulus! So, under the circumstances,
would you allow me to put my arm round your waist? As a source
of income. Just once!
BAR. But it's so very embarrassing. Think of the
opera-glasses!
RUD. My good girl, that's just what I am thinking of.
Hang
it all, we must give them something for their money! What's
that?
BAR. (unfolding paper, which contains a large letter,
which
she hands to him). It's a letter which your detective asked me
to hand to you. I wrapped it up in yesterday's paper to keep it
clean.
RUD. Oh, it's only his report! That'll keep. But, I say,
you've never been and bought a newspaper?
BAR. My dear Rudolph, do you think I'm mad? It came
wrapped round my breakfast.
RUD. (relieved). I thought you were not the sort of girl
to
go and buy a newspaper! Well, as we've got it, we may as well
read it. What does it say?
BAR. Why—dear me—here's your biography! "Our Detested
Despot!"
RUD. Yes—I fancy that refers to me.
BAR. And it says—Oh, it can't be!
RUD. What can't be?
BAR. Why, it says that although you're going to marry me
to-morrow, you were betrothed in infancy to the Princess of Monte
Carlo!
RUD. Oh yes—that's quite right. Didn't I mention it?
BAR. Mention it! You never said a word about it!
RUD. Well, it doesn't matter, because, you see, it's
practically off.
BAR. Practically off?
RUD. Yes. By the terms of the contract the betrothal is
void unless the Princess marries before she is of age. Now, her
father, the Prince, is stony-broke, and hasn't left his house for
years for fear of arrest. Over and over again he has implored me
to come to him to be married-but in vain. Over and over again he
has implored me to advance him the money to enable the Princess
to come to me—but in vain. I am very young, but not as young as
that; and as the Princess comes of age at two tomorrow, why at
two to-morrow I'm a free man, so I appointed that hour for our
wedding, as I shall like to have as much marriage as I can get
for my money.
BAR. I see. Of course, if the married state is a happy
state, it's a pity to waste any of it.
RUD. Why, every hour we delayed I should lose a lot of you
and you'd lose a lot of me!
BAR. My thoughtful darling! Oh, Rudolph, we ought to be
very happy!
RUD. If I'm not, it'll be my first bad investment. Still,
there is such a thing as a slump even in Matrimonials.
BAR. I often picture us in the long, cold, dark December
evenings, sitting close to each other and singing impassioned
duets to keep us