ISABEL (sighing).  I like it not!  Though every other maid in all the world did love to spin, I’d say the same—­I like it not!

DAME (to Flat-foot; showing alarm).  Sister, close the door, that none without may hear such words.

[Flat-foot rises, but is too late.  The QUEEN enters from the street.]

QUEEN (showing displeasure).  How now!  What’s all this noise?  I heard it from the street!

[All are frightened; Isabel weeps.]

DAME (bowing).  ’T will not happen again, your Majesty.

QUEEN (looking at Isabel).  Have they beaten you, my child?

ISABEL (still sobbing).  N—­o—­, your Majesty.

QUEEN (to the Dame).  Tell me why your daughter weeps.

DAME (more frightened).  She weeps because—­because—­

[She stops in confusion.]

QUEEN.  Well—­well?

DAME.  Because—­because—­I will not let her spin.

QUEEN (showing surprise).  Because you will not let her spin?

DAME (nodding).  Yes, your Majesty.

QUEEN.  Why, this is most strange.

DAME (nodding).  Would I but let her, she’d spin from morn till night, and from then on till morn again.

QUEEN.  I see how it can be so.  There’s nothing I like better than spinning.

DAME.  She weeps whenever I make her leave off.

QUEEN.  ’T is because she loves it!  I am never more pleased than when the wheels are whirring.

DAME.  But stop she must, for to-day at least.  There is no more flax.

QUEEN.  I have rooms full of flax.  Let your daughter come to my castle.  She may spin there as much as she pleases.

DAME (now, most frightened).  I—­I fear she would be a trouble to you.

QUEEN.  Why, no!  In fact, I am so pleased with your daughter’s industry I will have my son marry her.

DAME (so frightened she can scarcely breathe).  O your Majesty—­

QUEEN (interrupting).  But first she must spin all my flax.  There are three rooms full of it—­from top to bottom.

ISABEL (showing alarm).  Three rooms full!

QUEEN (nodding).  Aye, my dear, and when you have spun it all, you shall become a princess!

(Turning to the Dame.)

Bring your daughter to my castle to-morrow.

DAME (bowing).  Yes, your Majesty.

QUEEN (going).  To-morrow, mind you.

DAME (bowing).  Yes, your Majesty.

[All bow to the Queen, who goes.]

ISABEL.  Mother, how could you tell the Queen I love to spin?

DAME.  Think you I’d let the truth be known?  I’d not shame myself so!

ISABEL.  I could not spin three rooms of flax in three hundred years.

DAME.  Alas! alas!  What shall we do?