"Homer, Tacitus, Livy, Petrarch!--ye great spirits of my republic!
hear how this traitor slanders you."
"How I honor you, sire, for truly it is a great honor to be subdued
and vanquished by such a king as Frederick the Second."
The king looked at him fixedly. "You wish to bewilder me with
flattery, duke," said he, "well knowing that it is a sweet opiate,
acceptable to princes, generally causing their ruin. But in this
chamber, duke, I am safe from this danger, and here in my republic
we will both enjoy the Spartan soup of truth. Believe me, sir, it is
at times a wholesome dish, though to the pampered stomach it is
bitter and distasteful. I can digest it, and as you have come to
visit me, you will have to partake of it."
"And I crave it, sire--crave it as a man who has fasted for two
weeks."
"For two weeks?" said the king, laughing. "Ah, it is true you have
been here just that time."
"For two long weeks has your majesty kept me fasting and longing for
this precious soup," said the duke, reproachfully.
"My broth was not ready," said the king, gayly; "it was still
bubbling in the pot. It is now done, and we will consume it
together.
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