"Did you buy this Nurnberg stove of this boy's father for two
hundred florins?" the king asked them; and his voice was no longer
soft and kind as it had been when addressing the child, but very
stern.

"Yes, your majesty," murmured the trembling traders.

"And how much did the gentleman who purchased it for me give to
you?"

"Two thousand ducats, your majesty," muttered the dealers,
frightened out of their wits, and telling the truth in their
fright.

The gentleman was not present: he was a trusted counselor in art
matters of the king's, and often made purchases for him.

The king smiled a little, and said nothing. The gentleman had made
out the price to him as eleven thousand ducats.

"You will give at once to this boy's father the two thousand gold
ducats that you received, less the two hundred Austrian florins
that you paid him," said the king to his humiliated and abject
subjects. "You are great rogues. Be thankful you are not more
greatly punished."

He dismissed them by a sign to his courtiers, and to one of these
gave the mission of making the dealers of the Marienplatz disgorge
their ill-gotten gains.