The King was sole audience.
The opera proceeded, it was a piece with a storm in it; the mimic thunder began to mutter, the mimic wind began to wail and sough, and the mimic rain to patter.

The King's interest rose higher and higher; it developed into enthusiasm.

He cried out: "It is very, very good, indeed! But I will have real rain! Turn on the water!" The manager pleaded for a reversal of the command; said it would ruin the costly scenery and the splendid costumes, but the King cried: "No matter, no matter, I will have real rain! Turn on the water!" So the real rain was turned on and began to descend in gossamer lances to the mimic flower-beds and gravel walks of the stage.

The richly dressed actresses and actors tripped about singing bravely and pretending not to mind it.

The King was delighted--his enthusiasm grew higher.