au fond; and, after all, we, and of course your venerable Master of Felix-Nube, are the only real Monarchs still left in the world.

2ND VOICE. Your Majesty's dear Nikky may adore you as much as you choose, but it's different with us in Felix-Nube. His entourage is bent upon breaking up our Monarchy for the benefit of his little vassals.

IST VOICE. Allons donc! My dear Ambassador! Why, Nikky's entourage is composed of monks and archimandrites.

2ND VOICE. And behind these are his Heads of Police, who know that the only way of staving off a new and final revolution-your Majesty knows there is a general strike threatened in Hyperborea-is to embark upon a Holy War.

IST VOICE. Not a bad idea, either. It might be the way to stop all these confounded Socialists. Though, of course, dear Excellency, I have only to say a word, and all my Socialists will recognize that I represent all that is sane and practical in Socialism. They would all rally round my victorious, and in all essentials eminently modern and progressive, banner.

2ND VOICE. No doubt, no doubt. But if your Majesty will allow me to return to my previous remark, your country and mine are encircled by enemies, and there can be no doubt that the great White Bear . . . Then there is our amiable Cisalpine ally getting a little tired of its famous tour de valse with your Majesty, and making eyes at partners on the other side!

IST VOICE. Yes, the ungrateful little baggage! And we who have given it one province after another and enabled it to have a far better army and navy than it ever wanted! All the same, our dear little Machiavels know which side their bread is buttered, and my Cisalpine cousin has just made me a Colonel of his Hundred Halberdiers. Here, you see, is the uniform, not quite worthy of the ancient artistic fame of that country; when I think what a design for a helmet, real Renaissance, but quite practical, I could have made them!

But you were saying, my dear Ambassador? (The Monarch glances over his shoulder at a pier-glass and adjusts his moustache, then continues turning over the uniforms.) You were, I think, saying..

2ND VOICE. Then there is the perfidious Leviathan building three keels to your one. It has, moreover, engaged to defend the coasts of Marianne, and entered into an informal agreement with the White Bear.

IST VOICE. Oh, Leviathan is all right, my dear Excellency! They love me because I give them such good advice about Colonial warfare and the laying-out of public promenades, and because I was so attentive to my venerable ancestress; I never failed to send her flowers on her birthday. Besides, they have a Peace, Retrenchment, and Reform Ministry, and their hands full with those odd Mavourneen people whom I had to lunch here lately. The proof is that they have just made me Colonel of their Mountain Artillery-a becoming uniform for a Sovereign who happens to have a leg, though a little chilly. (The Monarch caresses a kilt in one of the open wardrobes.)

2ND VOICE. All the more reason, your Majesty, for choosing this moment to have done, once and for all, with that alliance between the White Bear and Marianne. We could smash them in a week.

IST VOICE. But I don't like war, only preparedness for war, which is necessary to brace a noble nation's spirits--at least, I don't like war more than a member of my family always must like war. Of course, the lamented Prince BalthasarAugustin was a very pleasant, well-informed man, even if he did marry beneath his rank, though I'm bound to say—and I said it to my wife—that the lady was quite presentable. But it really is no business of mine if he got himself murdered. And Felix-Nube is, luckily, well off for Heirs not quite so apparent, but quite ready to put in an appearance-eh, my dear Ambassador (Laughs at his own joke.)

2ND VOICE (desperately). Sir, sir, remember that when you have allowed the White Bear and your Cisalpine cousin to eat up Felix-Nube, you will be left without a friend in the world. You can't ally yourself, come now, with these preposterous cut-throat little nations whom Felix-Nube is supposed to oppress. A word in time, your Majesty! Your Monarchy requires Felix-Nube as much as Felix-Nube requires you!

IST VOICE. Require you? For what, I wonder? Against the toy militia of Leviathan and its Liberal shopkeepers, who will never make war, least of all in favour of a barbarous Asiatic despotism and against a scion of their Royal house? Or against those degenerates of Marianne, with their most un-Christian two-child regime? No, no, don't let's exaggerate, my dear Ambassador.

2ND VOICE (with vehement solemnity). Sir, let not history have to record that when the call came from on High, to save from destruction the most venerable throne of all Europe, it happened that the greatest living Monarch, the mystic Grail King, consecrated to be God's right hand, hesitated for a moment. . . . I implore your Majesty's forgiveness for my unseemly vehemence. Love for my august, heartbroken master has caused me to overstep And that reminds me : What message shall I take my aged Sovereign from your Majesty ?

IST VOICE (rhetorically, with a fine gesture). Tell him that whensoever God's mandate comes, then will the Grail King... (Interrupts himself and continues hurriedly.) In short, please say all sorts of kind things to the good old man, and tell him that my Consort and myself will send a little tribute of flowers to put upon the poor Crown Prince's coffin. And now I really must be off to refresh my mind on my new yacht. Also I have to say a few encouraging words to my valiant U-boats. Goodbye.

The gramophone wheezes. SATAN changes the disc. The cinema shows a room in the War Office of Ogreland. The Ambassador with mutton-chop whiskers in private converse with two or three Generals.

AMBASSADOR. He really is impossible to deal with, excuse my saying so. I thought I had moved him a little by playing on the religious-romantic, the Wagner, stop. I went so far as to compare him with the Grail King. But there it is; one's always up against that . . . well! that extraordinary dislike he has to bloodshed.

IST GENERAL. Poor fellow! It's quite genuine. It's a constitutional idiosyncrasy. Some people feel like that about oysters; a Field-Marshal I once knew couldn't be in the same room with them. But, believe me, dear Ambassador, he'll be all right once the band strikes up and there's a call for prancing and eloquence.

2ND GENERAL. Only let him be safe out of our way for the next few days. I'll answer for him once the die is cast.

AMBASSADOR. Once the die is cast. But who is to cast it? IST GENERAL. Why, Felix-Nube, to be sure.

AMBASSADOR. Will you undertake to get it regarded by your people as a casus fœderis ?

IST GENERAL. Oh, well, a casus fœderis is going a little too far, our alliance being purely defensive. Rather let us say a blank cheque. We offer to exert our influence with you in favour of peace. Then we turn our backs-do you see?

AMBASSADOR. And when we look round, will you promise to be standing there . . . well, in your celebrated shining armour? (The door has opened and the Monarch enters.) Oh, I was not aware that your Majesty was honouring our little chat with your presence. . . . Indeed, I imagined your Majesty was off on your cruise. .

But

MONARCH. So I should be if they hadn't made a trifling mistake in executing my design for a Viking's uniform. what were you saying about shining armour, eh?

AMBASSADOR. Only alluding to the Grail King, your Majesty. Only remarking how conducive that immortal remark of your Majesty's had been to keep the peace of Europe!

MONARCH. Ha! My words are really as persuasive as my guns! Good-bye for the moment, and my love to my aged

cousin.

IST GENERAL. Once he's well out of the way you just proceed with your well-known moderation and discretion in the matter of that ultimatum.

66

AMBASSADOR. Do you mean, as it says on the Kodaks, just press the button ?"

2ND GENERAL (laughing). “And we'll do the rest!"

The gramophone wheezes. SATAN changes the disc. The cinematograph shows a library. Two Statesmen, one of whom we have seen previously, pretending to play chess. THE OTHER STATESMAN. I fear, then, that your mission must be considered a failure?

THE USUAL STATESMAN. By no means a failure, since it has cleared away all doubts and, if the situation develop, all hesitation. It was no good offering them concessions in the Queen of Sheba's territory, or anywhere else; no good threatening to increase our armaments if they persisted in increasing theirs. They say they want peace; but it isn't what we consider peace. In similar cases the only possible way to reconcile conflicting contingencies is for us also to offer peace, but prepare for war. I may say with a clear conscience that throughout my whole career I have done my best to proceed in both these contrary directions.