_Gama._ The stakes are poorly matched: It’s Lombard Street against a China orange!
_Hilde._ In the mean time, pray make yourself at home, Direct my army as it were your own. On every matter that concerns the state, Your orders give;--they will not be obeyed, But that don’t matter!
_Hilde._ Not a jot! The ecstasy of absolute command Is seriously dashed when you reflect, That for all consequences that ensue, You by the world are held responsible! But here, where all are bound to hear your word With every outward token of respect, They systematically disobey it, Your power of high command is just as great, The consequences absolutely _nil_.
_Atho._ My liege, three gentlemen await without, Attended by a troop of soldiery. (_Gives note_).
_Gama._ (_reads_). “The Princes Arac, Guron, Scynthius, King Gama’s sons, desire that you will set Their father free.” (_To ATHO._) Admit these gentlemen. [_Exit ATHO._ My sons! That’s brave!
_Arac._ What would we? Why look you, King Hildebrand-- You hold our father in unkingly bonds, Our sister you beleaguer in her home, You threaten to lay waste our richest lands, And then you coolly ask us, “What would we?”
_Guron._ We come to claim our father at your hands.
_Scynthius._ We come to save our sister Ida from The rude assault of savage soldiery. Why they are girls--mere girls--and should be stormed As other girls are stormed, if stormed at all!
_Hilde._ As other girls are stormed so shall they be; We’ll use no cannon, bayonet, or sword, For such ungentlemanly arguments-- Convincing though they be--would but convince These women ’gainst their will! We’ll witch them forth With love songs, odes, and idle fripperies, Such as a woman can not long withstand. Stay, you shall see--
_Atho._ All is prepared, my liege To storm the walls--
_Hilde._ Good! the light guitars Fall in at six--the King’s own baritones, Led by Sir Santley--
_Hilde._ He shall be, then--they will parade at five. [_Exit FIRST OFFICER._
_Second Officer._ Who leads the scaling party, sir?
_Hilde._ Of course The first light tenors--they can highest go. [_Exit SECOND OFFICER._
_Atho._ And who shall first climb up the outer wall, And reconnoiter what goes on within?
_Hilde._ Some tenor, fool, who can “go up to see!” [_Exit ATHO._ Let all be furnished with their photographs, And scatter them among these amazons. Bid the director of the poets direct And post five hundred valentines, and see They get them by to-night’s delivery. Go, tell the gallant lady, who commands The horse brigade of royal milliners, To place five hundred toilet tables out Within full view of Princess Ida’s walls. Upon them place five hundred mirrors--then Lay out five hundred robes of French design; And if they still hold out they’re more than women! [_Exeunt OFFICERS, GAMA, ARAC, SCYNTHIUS, and GURON._