ground near the cave, and close their eyes as
if in sleep. The EMPEROR and his suite approach,
as if they had been looking on, near by, and
fall reverently on their knees, their example
being followed by the multitude, while the
chant rises ever more clear and sweet. The
Seven SCHOOLBOYS pluck brightly flowering
branches and lay these beside the SLEEPERS
and shower blossoms over them. And so the
scene fades from our sight._]
PRINCESS MOSS-ROSE
_For Every Child’s Birthday_
GREETING TO THE AUDIENCE
Spoken in front of the curtain
by
THE CHILD WHOSE BIRTHDAY IT IS
To-day it is my birthday. Yes! Now who this group among
Can guess, I wonder, just how old I am, or just how young:
One, two, three, four, five, six, or seven; eight, nine, ten,
or ... stay!
I’m one year older than I was this same hour yesterday!
Wait till you see my birthday cake in which a candle burns
For every year I’ve lived, plus one for luck and glad returns!
I’ve read that children carefully their birthdays ought to keep,
And yet how can we, when they come, and go, when we’re asleep?
Still, if you’ll kindly help me keep this one I’ll do my best
That no one ... no, not even Time, shall rob me of the rest!
Then when I’m very, very old I’ll tell you what I’ll do:
I’ll give those birthdays all away. And some I’ll give to you!
PRINCESS MOSS-ROSE
_We shall now witness THREE EVENTS in the Life of the PRINCESS MOSS-ROSE.
These take place in the hall of her father’s castle. Besides the PRINCESS
herself her parents, the KING and QUEEN, will assist at the EVENTS,
also the COURT: the LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR, the ROYAL NURSE, GOVERNESS,
BUTLER, COOK, GARDENER, and LORDS and LADIES OF QUALITY. HUNTSMEN, PAGES
and LACKEYS, too, will come and go as they are needed. Then there is a
FROG of high degree in Frogdom, who will receive the knightly accolade,
thereafter being known as SIR AMPHIBIOUS BATRACHIAN, with the right also
to call himself BARON FRESHWATER. TWO TADPOLES who grow up into rather
grouchy, rheumatic elderly FROGS are of his retinue. The THREE FATES
and DESTINY have inconspicuous, but important parts in the EVENTS. Then
we shall also see several FRAGMENTS of KINGS’ SONS who have perished in
their quest for the fabled MOSS-ROSE, and, accompanied by his tutor,
MENTOR, the victorous King’s Son, PRINCE CHARMING. Sixteen years divide
the SECOND EVENT from the first, and one hundred years the THIRD from
the SECOND. These passages of time, however, touch our royal friends but
lightly, and do not cause their royal clothes to wear out, or their royal
furniture to become shabby in the least. The scene is laid in the hall
of the KING’S castle, an apartment of suitable magnificence. Entrances
lead to banqueting-hall, servants’ offices, and other parts of the
establishment. Windows overlook the attractive grounds with a glimpse of
the forest beyond._
_THE FIRST EVENT_
_shows a pleasant morning in summer. THE KING and his HUNTSMEN are
assembled in the hall, singing a jovial hunting-chorus, while without the
DOGS bay, and the HORSES champ with proper impatience for the start._
HUNTING CHORUS
Ho, Yoicks! ho!
Hey, tally-ho!
A-hunting, hunting, hunting; a-hunting will we go!
We’ll hunt by day, and we’ll hunt by dark;
We’ll hunt the slipper, we’ll hunt the snark;
The lion, tiger and buffalo,
We’ll hunt them all, Ho, Yoicks, ho!
We’ll hunt the bulrush and bull-moose,
We’ll hunt mongander and mongoose!
We’ll hunt the pole-cat, polar bear,
The hairy musk-ox and the hare,
We’ll hunt the dodo, dinosaur,
The wild-boar and tame, talking bore!
Aye, all the beasts in Noah’s Ark
We’ll hunt by day and hunt by dark!
And every one of them, you’ll see,
Will love the sport as much as we,
Because to kill is not our aim,
Or hurt, since that would spoil the game!
So, Yoicks, so,
Hey, tally-ho!
A-hunting, hunting, hunting; a-hunting will we go!
[_At the close of the HUNTING SONG the KING and his suite are about to go
when the LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR enters with as much haste as his girth and
dignity allow._]
THE CHANCELLOR.
The King, the King, where is the King!... Oh, Sire, I feared I should be
too late! Her Majesty the Queen begs you to forego your day’s hunting, as
she has a piece of news of the utmost importance to communicate to you!
THE KING.
My dear Lord High Chancellor, I am always most anxious to please the
Queen, as well you know, but as you can see and hear for yourself, the
nettlesome steeds are saddled, and are champing and pawing the ground,
the hounds are baying, and all the wild animals in the royal forest are
gnashing their teeth and growling fearsomely, impatient for the day’s
sport to begin!
THE CHANCELLOR.
Nevertheless, Sire, under the circumstances ... the extraordinary
circumstances....
THE KING.
Does the Queen’s news concern itself with house-cleaning the castle?
Or is Her Majesty desirous of purchasing a new crown? If so, can’t you
suggest to her to get the old one turned and made over? The jewels in it
are not in the least shabby; they are as good as new, in fact!
THE CHANCELLOR.
Sire, this is more important even than a crown! Here comes the Queen
herself to tell you all about it!
[_THE QUEEN enters to a flourish of trumpets, attended by her LADIES.
Following these comes the ROYAL NURSE bearing a tiny infant, wrapped in a
magnificent silken coverlet. THE NURSE stands in the background, with the
LADIES, while the QUEEN converses with the KING._]
THE QUEEN.
Oh, my dear, what luck to have caught you!
THE KING.
How can I serve my gracious consort?
THE QUEEN.
[_About to tell him the news._] Listen, then, and I’ll begin at the
beginning.
THE KING.
As you please! Hark! What noise is that!
[_He listens, while a slight wail issues from the bundle the NURSE
carries._]
THE QUEEN.
Guess!
THE KING.
If it is the throne-room door that is screaking it had better be oiled!
[_Protesting exclamations rise from all the LADIES and the NURSE at this
prosaic idea._]
THE QUEEN.
[_Amused, as if it were a game._] Oh, cold, cold!
THE KING.
If any of the Dukes have on new boots that creak they must be banished
from Court for a while. Boots should be seen but not heard!
THE QUEEN AND THE LADIES.
Boots, indeed! Cold, cold!
THE KING.
There it goes again. Sounds like a kitten, or a little squealing pig!
[_The QUEEN, NURSE and LADIES protest violently._]
THE CHANCELLOR.
Warm—in the temperate zone!
THE KING.
I have it. It’s a mechanical toy. One of those dolls from Paris that say
“Papa, Mama,” when you pinch them!
[_ALL laugh at this._]
THE QUEEN.
Hot! Getting hot! My dear, suppose it were a doll, what should we wish
for?
THE KING.
I don’t know, I’m sure! Is it a doll?
THE QUEEN.
It most certainly is not!
THE KING.
Then what is the use of wishing anything, or of guessing what we should
wish for, if it were a doll!... Mayn’t I go hunting now?
THE QUEEN.
No! You darling stupid, I shall have to tell you! But let me begin at the
beginning.
THE KING.
[_With resignation._] As you please! Only that Bengalese tiger does so
hate to be kept waiting.! [_ALL sit._]
THE QUEEN.
This morning I went into the garden to watch the gardener set out the
rose bed, and while sitting there beside the fountain a great big frog
jumped out of the basin, and spoke to me. It is true that he splashed
me a wee bit, but he apologised so prettily I didn’t really mind! “Good
morning, fair Queen,” said he. “I know wherefore you are sad!”
THE KING.
Oh! But were you sad?
THE QUEEN.
No! But that’s what he said! “Cease weeping and dry your lovely eyes,” he
then went on!
THE KING.
But were you weeping, and did you dry your lovely eyes?
THE QUEEN.
No, I can’t say I was or did! However that’s what he said!
THE CHANCELLOR.
[_Explains._] Queens and princesses generally weep beside a fountain,
Sire! You’ll find it here in the “Book of Royal Etiquette”! [_He turns
over the leaves of a huge volume._] It is customary for them accidentally
to drop a precious ring into its green depths, and then to shed tears
over it!
THE KING.
I see! Go on, my love!
THE QUEEN.
The frog continued, “It is your birthday!” “Oh,” I replied, “I know that!
And I’m sure the dear King is going to surprise me with a beautiful
present!”
THE KING.
Of course! I was just on my way to inquire why it has not been sent!
THE QUEEN.
But it has been sent! It is here! That is the great news! That is what
the frog told me! “Go home,” said he, “and look in your work-basket, and
see what you will find all rolled up in the red and yellow comforter you
are knitting for a surprise for the King on his birthday!” And there
indeed I found it! And, oh, nothing else in all the world could have
given me one millionth part of the pleasure!
THE KING.
I thought you’d like it. Is it becoming? Does it fit?
THE QUEEN.
Eh?
THE KING.
I told them to send the very latest style, but you can have it changed if
it isn’t the right size!
THE QUEEN.
It is perfect in every respect, absolutely perfect! Eh, my Ladies?
THE LADIES.
[_Enthusiastically._] Yes, indeed, Your Majesty!
THE KING.
Good!... Whatever is that queer noise?
THE QUEEN.
Why, didn’t you know it could do that?
THE KING.
It sounded very different in the shop! But we can get the piano-tuner to
attend to it!
THE CHANCELLOR.
His Majesty is so full of humour!
THE QUEEN.
Come and have a peep at it!
[_THE NURSE approaches with her precious bundle, but the KING draws
back._]
THE KING.
Those little kinds are so snappish! Did they send the collar and the
chain?
THE QUEEN.
Now, my love, I know you are very absent-minded! Last year when I wanted
a diamond bracelet you got me a silver thimble, but when it comes to a
little daughter ... a sweet little baby daughter...!
THE KING.
Bless my soul ... a daughter! To be sure! I hope they packed her
carefully!
THE LADIES.
Her Royal Highness is perfect! Absolutely the loveliest baby that ever
was!
THE KING.
[_Looking at the baby which is now presented for his closer inspection._]
As babies go she really is ... well, she is a baby! My Lord High
Chancellor, what does one say to them?
THE CHANCELLOR.
I have been looking that up, Sire, and I find that “Diddums wasms” is
not unacceptable in the earlier stages of conversation with little Royal
Highnesses!
THE KING.
[_As if learning a lesson._] Diddums wasms! Wasms Diddums! I never shall
remember that!
THE CHANCELLOR.
How about simple Duckums, or Ooo-galloo-galloo?
THE KING.
[_Experiments with these._] That’s better. [_He turns again to the
group._] Now what shall we do to celebrate this joyful occasion? Suppose
I go a-hunting and bring in a pretty spotted leopard, a great, big, huggy
bear, or a gaudy tiger with orange stripes to play with the little one!
THE CHANCELLOR.
The usual thing, Sire, is to hold a feast ... a christening feast!
THE QUEEN.
Yes, my dear; our child must have a name! Now what shall it be?
THE CHANCELLOR.
Why not call the Princess after Your Majesties?
THE KING.
Too commonplace. I am King Johannes, Ivor, Ivan, Ian, Giovanni, Juan,
John! And the Queen is Marietta, Marina, Marequita, Marioletta,
Polyanthus Mary! No; we want something more distinguished! Now who has
something to suggest? Begin with A.
THE LADIES.
[_One after another._] Abel, Abraham, Apple-dumpling, Andalusia,
Artichoke.
THE KING.
Artichoke! That’s a good name for a baby!
THE CHANCELLOR.
That’s a boy’s name, Sire!
THE KING.
Why not Asparagus—Gussie for short?
THE CHANCELLOR.
Too kitchen-gardeny!
THE KING.
Well, let’s try B. Benjamin, Bohemia, Bank-account, Bootblack,
Baronet....
THE CHANCELLOR.
Too masculine!
THE KING.
Well, then, go on with C.
THE LADIES.
[_Suggesting in turn._] Calico, Caramel.... That’s a sweet one!
Crystal-gazer, Caraway-seed....
THE QUEEN.
My dear, why not name her after a flower?
THE KING.
Good! What flower begins with C? I have it: Cauliflower! Or Castor-Oil
bean! Columbine!
THE QUEEN.
No, no! Let us call her after the queen of flowers, rose! And as the
gardener was just setting out one when the frog accosted me, why not
Moss-Rose?
ALL.
Oh, yes; Moss-Rose! Princess Moss-Rose!
THE KING.
I like that! There’s something soft and tender about it! It moves me to
tears, or at least to a tear! That is, if the Lord High Chancellor has
no objection, and I can find my pocket-handkerchief!
THE CHANCELLOR.
Tears on the part of Your Majesty are quite appropriate! Let the Court
Chronicler note that the King shed tears!
THE KING.
A tear ... a single one! I insist that history shall not be falsified!
THE CHANCELLOR.
A single tear.... Really, Sire, it is never done! Try and screw out
another, I beg!
THE KING.
Oh, have it your own way, then! Tears! [_He wipes his eyes, and the COURT
CHRONICLER records the episode._]
THE CHANCELLOR.
[_Considering._] Moss-Rose. And for extra names without which, of course,
no person of royal birth should be, the Princess can have the botanical
terms, Rosa Centifolia, Rosaceæ!
THE QUEEN.
I don’t think I want my baby called that!
THE CHANCELLOR.
Madam, no one would ever think of using these! But Royal Persons have to
own them!
THE QUEEN.
Oh, then, it is all right! Now we must choose godparents! For godmothers
I want all the wise women and good fairies in the kingdom! Because
instead of the usual commonplace sterling silver mug they will bestow on
our child blessings: virtues and talents!
THE KING.
A capital idea! Have we their names, my Lord High Chancellor?
THE CHANCELLOR.
[_Referring to a volume._] The latest census gives the list: Fairy
Good-Looks, Fairy Good-Heart, Fairy Good-Temper, and Fairy Good-Manners!
THE KING AND QUEEN.
Excellent!
THE CHANCELLOR.
Then there are the Wise Women: Dame Honesty, Dame Diligence, Dame Order
and Dame Thrift. Then there’s Lady Generosity and Countess Courage!
THE QUEEN.
Oh, we must have them all, every one!
THE KING.
[_Agreeing._] Surely! Every blessed one!
THE CHANCELLOR.
Then there are those two old-fashioned gentlewomen whom everybody
respects, the Sisters Purity and Piety!
THE QUEEN.
Oh, these above all!
THE KING.
By all means! Let Heralds be sent forth north, south, east and west,
inviting them! What about the godfather?
THE CHANCELLOR.
Some neighbouring potentate. Some reigning monarch!
THE KING.
[_Demurring._] Um-m-m! They’re all so uneducated! They only talk
foreign languages. And I never can feel sociable with people through an
interpreter!
THE QUEEN.
My dear, I have a suggestion. I know you’ll think it odd, but why not
that dear, delightful frog who brought me the joyful news?
THE KING.
Hm! A frog for godfather. Is that ever done, my Lord High Chancellor?
THE CHANCELLOR.
I can’t at this moment recall an instance, Sire, but I’ll look it up!
[_He consults a volume._]
THE QUEEN.
He has charming manners. And he would not mind being splashed if he held
the baby at the font!
THE KING.
I wonder if it would be considered anarchistic by the populace?
THE CHANCELLOR.
You could bestow a title on him. Puss-In-Boots was knighted, I find!
THE KING.
I wonder how he would mix in with the rest of the company. For example,
however would he sit down to table?
THE QUEEN.
Why not have a large finger-bowl, or a sitz-bath, placed on a chair for
him?
THE CHANCELLOR.
A very happy suggestion on the part of Your Majesty! But....
THE QUEEN.
And what a figure he would make at the Court ball! I’m sure he can do the
latest dances beautifully!
THE KING.
I’ll take it under consideration. It is not a matter in which to act
hastily!... Whatever noise is that? Surely not another birthday present!
[_THE FROG is heard approaching with a measured ker-plunk._]
THE CHANCELLOR.
[_Looking down the corridor._] Why, speak of a distinguished visitor, and
here he comes!
THE HERALD.
[_Blows a blast._]
THE BUTLER.
[_Announces._] The Honorable Mr. Frog of Frog-Pond!
[_THE FROG enters. He wears high rubber boots, and carries a storm-coat
over his arm._]
THE QUEEN.
My dear Mr. Frog, how kind this is!
THE FROG.
Not at all! How-do! How-do!
THE QUEEN.
[_Presenting._] The King. The Princess Royal. The Lord High Chancellor.
The Court.
THE FROG.
How-do! How-do! [_The BUTLER approaches him and discreetly tries to get
his storm-coat away from him, but he resists._] Let it alone!... I always
carry it with me when I’m likely to be asked to stay to lunch.... [_He
pauses and coughs slightly. All do the same. He continues._] Sometimes
the ladies next me complain of the damp!... These boots, too, they
protect me from dripping and slipping! Slipping and dripping!
THE QUEEN.
Most considerate! [_She sits and indicates a seat which the FROG takes.
ALL sit._] You come upon us in family conclave. We are trying to find a
godfather for the Princess! [_ALL cough meaningly._]
THE FROG.
My stars, what an extraordinary coincidence!
ALL.
[_Interested._] Eh? What’s that?
THE FROG.
Speaking of such things—Excuse me. [_He breaks off, and skipping toward
the entrance, croaks very loud. He is answered by two smaller croaks,
uttered by two small frogs, dressed like lackeys, who now enter, bearing
a huge silver mug. This our FROG presents to the KING and QUEEN, after a
suitable explanation._] This little token ... oh, a mere trifle, but, as
you observe, solid silver and richly chased ... I found it at the bottom
of a pond! It was probably dropped there by some prehistoric princess
when babies were larger than they are nowadays! I fancied it might come
in useful, so took the liberty...!
THE QUEEN.
How very, very kind!... My dear, isn’t it very, very kind?
THE KING.
Oh, very, very, very kind! Eh, my Lord High Chancellor?
THE CHANCELLOR.
Oh, very, very, very, very kind!
THE COURT.
Very, very, very, very, very kind!
THE KING.
It would make a lovely umbrella-stand!... I mean, of course, till the
baby is large enough to drink from it!
THE FROG.
So glad you’re pleased!... Well, as it’s near my lunch hour I must be
going!... Any time you’re near my pond just drop in!
THE QUEEN.
Oh, but you must stay! To lunch, and to the christening. We want you to
be baby’s godfather; eh, my love?
THE KING.
Of course we do! I was saying so when you came in!
THE FROG.
That’s very nice of you. I can sing to the little one, you know! [_Croaks
in imitation of an opera-singer._] I’m soloist in our glee-club, in the
pond!
THE QUEEN.
Delightful! And I’m sure you can dance with those springy legs of yours!
THE FROG.
Good gracious, yes! I can lift any lady clear off her feet, and throw her
plump into the fountain! [_He starts to dance, but the KING restrains
him._]
THE KING.
Later you shall give us an exhibition of your skill. But first you must
be knighted!... Is there a sword handy, my Lord?
THE CHANCELLOR.
Here, Sire! The carving-knife will serve! [_He gets the carving-knife
from the table and hands it to the KING._]
THE FROG.
[_Shrinking back._] The carving-knife! Now, really I.... My skin is very
sensitive, in spite of appearances!
THE KING.
Bless my soul, you needn’t be afraid! It was a wedding-present to myself
and the Queen! There never was the slightest edge to it!... Will you
kindly kneel as well as you can? [_THE FROG does so, and the KING gives
him a slap with the flat of the blade, saying:_] Rise up, Sir Amphibious
Batrachian of Pondmere, Baron Freshwater Warden of the Marshes, and Court
Croaker Extraordinary!
ALL.
Hurrah! Three cheers for Sir Amphibious Batrachian of Pondmere, Baron
Freshwater, Warden of the Marshes, and Court Croaker Extraordinary!
THE FROG.
Ha, ha! Pretty fine, eh, what? But to my intimates, as always, Frog,
plain Frog!
THE KING.
And now to lunch. The christening shall be held as soon as the godmothers
arrive.
THE CHANCELLOR.
[_Who has been consulting one of his books._] Sire, there is one Wise
Woman we omitted!
THE KING.
Her name?
THE CHANCELLOR.
She has several aliases, so that she can always prove an alibi! Envy,
Hatred, Malice, and All-Uncharitableness! She is best known as Gossip, or
Busy-Body!
THE KING.
Has she ever been presented here at Court?
THE CHANCELLOR.
Not yet, Sire, though she has repeatedly sought to be. She has never
quite passed her examination on the Nine Points of Etiquette.
THE QUEEN.
It would make no difference if she had. I never would consent to receive
such a person! Besides, we haven’t spoons and forks enough!
THE CHANCELLOR.
But, Madam, unless we conciliate her I fear she may make some trouble for
the Princess!
THE QUEEN.
What, hurt my baby!
THE KING.
What, annoy my heiress-apparent!
THE FROG.
What, disturb my goddaughter!
THE COURT.
What, injure our Princess! [_ALL surround the NURSE and BABY
protectingly._]
THE CHANCELLOR.
Really, I do think it would be advisable to placate the person!
THE FROG.
[_Waving his hand so as to splash the CHANCELLOR while speaking._] Now,
my dear fellow, while I hate to throw cold water on your scheme, yet I
will not stand for such measures! Reptile as technically I am, there are
human toads I simply won’t associate with!
THE CHANCELLOR.
Oh, very well! [_He closes his huge volume with a bang._] And suppose the
old gossip comes uninvited to the feast, what then?
THE FROG.
Tell her to meet me beside the fountain by moonlight, and I’ll hold her
hand and give her the worst cold in her head she ever had, so that she
won’t be able to put two and two words together! Is it for nothing I am
Sir Amphibious Batrachian, etcetera, etcetera? [_He slaps his chest._]
THE QUEEN.
You dear! Oh, what a birthday! I’m so happy I could dance!
THE KING.
So could I!
THE FROG.
[_Prancing about._] Here we go round the mulberry bush, the mulberry
bush, the mulberry bush!
THE COURT.
Do look out for the baby!
THE FROG.
Put H. R. H. in a safe place! Here, in the christening-mug! [_Assisted by
members of the COURT he lifts the NURSE with the BABY into the mug. THE
GARDENER at this moment enters with a huge bunch of moss-roses._]
ALL.
[_Clapping their hands._]
Oh, moss-roses, moss-roses, for the Princess Moss-Rose!
[_Seizing the bouquet THE FROG tosses it into the mug, and instantly long
festoons of the flowers stream out of this, as from a fountain. Laughing
delightedly, ALL seize these, as if they were the ribbons of a Maypole.
Outside, joy-bells ring and music sounds. THE BUTLER appears, beating on
a gong. The mug with the BABY seen above its brim is borne aloft, and the
gay procession passes on as the CURTAIN falls._]
THE SECOND EVENT
_THE SECOND EVENT takes place in the same hall. Everybody is now sixteen
years older, for it is the sixteenth anniversary of the birth of the
PRINCESS MOSS-ROSE. The christening mug stands in the centre of the floor
and in it grows a beautiful moss-rose bush. THE HUNTING SONG again is
heard, and when the CURTAIN rises we see the KING ready to start off on
his day’s sport. To him comes the QUEEN somewhat hurriedly._
THE QUEEN.
My dear, surely you’re not going hunting to-day!
THE KING.
I had some idea of doing so, my love! The lions are complaining terribly
that they don’t get enough exercise!
THE QUEEN.
But have you forgotten what day it is?
THE KING.
Surely not Sunday again! Now it isn’t sporty of Sunday to come round more
than once a week! It’s taking advantage of its exalted standing and the
respect we owe it!
THE QUEEN.
[_Laughing._] Will you never grow up? And our daughter sixteen years old
to-day!
THE KING.
Bless my soul, I had forgotten!
MOSS-ROSE.
[_Enters singing happily._] Good-morning, father!
THE KING.
Good-morning, my darling!
MOSS-ROSE.
Aren’t you going to wish me many happy—
THE KING.
[_Interrupting._] Come, wish me many happy returns of the day!
MOSS-ROSE.
What, wish _you_ many happy returns of my birthday and mother’s?
THE KING.
Why not? Isn’t it always the happiest day of the year to me?
MOSS-ROSE.
[_Mischievously._] Thank you so much for your lovely present!
THE QUEEN.
Yes, indeed!
THE KING.
Eh? [_Puzzled._]
MOSS-ROSE.
We’ve been through your pockets, mother and I! And, oh, to think of
finding a fine new meerschaum pipe, and my favourite brand of tobacco!
[_She produces the articles._]
THE KING.
[_Slightly nettled and confused._] Now, really, Moss-Rose....
THE QUEEN.
And these six new neckties ... my favourite colours! [_She produces the
articles._]
THE KING.
[_Recovering poise._] The pipe was for my prize elephant. And the ties
were to be competed for in a scratch race—the spotted ones for the
leopards and the striped ones for the zebras!
THE QUEEN AND MOSS-ROSE.
[_Laughing._] You dear! [_They kiss the KING and thrust their booty into
his pockets._]
THE KING.
And now what’s the programme for the day’s festivities? A ball as usual
to-night, I suppose!
THE QUEEN.
[_Hastily._] No, not to-night! Not till to-morrow!
MOSS-ROSE.