The Atlantic Book of Modern Plays Part 29

(_Distant sound of trumpets._)

BLUE HOSE (_nervously_). What's that?

YELLOW HOSE. The King is approaching! The ceremonies are about to commence!

BLUE HOSE. Is everything ready?

YELLOW HOSE. I told you that everything was ready. Stand still; you are as white as a stalk of celery.

BLUE HOSE (_counting on his fingers_). Apples, lemons, peaches, jam--Jam! Did you forget jam?

YELLOW HOSE. Zounds, I did!

BLUE HOSE (_wailing_). We are lost!

YELLOW HOSE. She may not call for it.

(_Both stand very erect and make a desperate effort to appear calm._)

BLUE HOSE (_very nervous_). Which door? Which door?

YELLOW HOSE. The big one, idiot. Be still!

(_The sound of trumpets increases, and cries of "Make way for the King." Two_ HERALDS _come in and stand on either side of the door.

The_ KING OF HEARTS _enters, followed by ladies and gentlemen of the court._ POMPDEBILE _is in full regalia, and very imposing indeed with his red robe bordered with ermine, his crown and sceptre. After him comes the_ CHANCELLOR, _an old man with a short, white beard. The_ KING _strides in a particularly kingly fashion, pointing his toes in the air at every step, toward his throne, and sits down. The_ KNAVE _walks behind him slowly. He has a sharp, pale face._)

POMPDEBILE (_impressively_). Lords and ladies of the court, this is an important moment in the history of our reign. The Lady Violetta, whom you love and respect--that is, I mean to say, whom the ladies love and the lords--er--respect, is about to prove whether or not she be fitted to hold the exalted position of Queen of Hearts, according to the law, made a thousand years ago by Pompdebile the Great, and steadily followed ever since. She will prepare with her own delicate, white hands a dish of pastry.

This will be judged by the two finest pastry cooks in the land.

(BLUE HOSE _and_ YELLOW HOSE _bow deeply._)

If their verdict be favorable, she shall ride through the streets of the city on a white palfrey, garlanded with flowers. She will be crowned, the populace will cheer her, and she will reign by our side, attending to the domestic affairs of the realm, while we give our time to weightier matters. This of course you all understand is a time of great anxiety for the Lady Violetta. She will appear worried--(_To_ CHANCELLOR) The palfrey is in readiness, we suppose.

CHANCELLOR. It is, Your Majesty.

POMPDEBILE. Garlanded with flowers?

CHANCELLOR. With roses, Your Majesty.

KNAVE (_bowing_). The Lady Violetta prefers violets, Your Majesty.

POMPDEBILE. Let there be a few violets put in with the roses--er--We are ready for the ceremony to commence. We confess to a slight nervousness unbecoming to one of our station. The Lady Violetta, though trying at times, we have found--er--shall we say--er--satisfying?

KNAVE (_bowing_). Intoxicating, Your Majesty?

CHANCELLOR (_shortly_). His Majesty means nothing of the sort.

POMPDEBILE. No, of course not--er--The mule--Is that--did you--?

CHANCELLOR (_in a grieved tone_). This is hardly necessary. Have I ever neglected or forgotten any of your commands, Your Majesty?

POMPDEBILE. You have, often. However, don't be insulted. It takes a great deal of our time and it is most uninteresting.

CHANCELLOR (_indignantly_). I resign, Your Majesty.

POMPDEBILE. Your thirty-seventh resignation will be accepted to-morrow. Just now it is our wish to begin at once. The anxiety that no doubt gathered in the breast of each of the seven successive Pompdebiles before us seems to have concentrated in ours. Already the people are clamoring at the gates of the palace to know the decision. Begin. Let the Pages be summoned.

KNAVE (_bowing_). Beg pardon, Your Majesty; before summoning the Pages, should not the Lady Violetta be here?

POMPDEBILE. She should, and is, we presume, on the other side of that door--waiting breathlessly.

(THE KNAVE _quietly opens the door and closes it._)

KNAVE (_bowing_). She is not, Your Majesty, on the other side of that door waiting breathlessly. In fact, to speak plainly, she is not on the other side of that door at all.

POMPDEBILE. Can that be true? Where are her ladies?

KNAVE. They are all there, Your Majesty.

POMPDEBILE. Summon one of them.

(THE KNAVE _goes out, shutting the door. He returns, following_ URSULA, _who, very much frightened, throws herself at the_ KING'S _feet._)

POMPDEBILE. Where is your mistress?

URSULA. She has gone, Your Majesty.

POMPDEBILE. Gone! Where has she gone?

URSULA. I do not know, Your Majesty. She was with us a while ago, waiting there, as you commanded.

POMPDEBILE. Yes, and then--speak.

URSULA. Then she started out and forbade us to go with her.

POMPDEBILE. The thought of possible divorce from us was more than she could bear. Did she say anything before she left?

URSULA (_trembling_). Yes, Your Majesty.

POMPDEBILE. What was it? She may have gone to self-destruction.

What was it?

URSULA. She said--

POMPDEBILE. Speak, woman, speak.

URSULA. She said that Your Majesty--

POMPDEBILE. A farewell message! Go on.