[The three Great-Aunts hide behind the curtains, just as the QUEEN and the PRINCE enter.]

QUEEN.  Well, have you finished?

ISABEL (pointing to a pile of thread).  There’s the last of it, your
Majesty.

QUEEN (looking at thread).  Spun in the finest style, too!  Prince, but a week ago these rooms were filled with flax.  Now look at them.

PRINCE (looking about).  Empty, as if flax had never been here.  ’T is wonderful how one maid could do so much!

QUEEN.  ’T is most wonderful!

PRINCE.  The wedding shall take place to-day.  Isabel, come now with us.

ISABEL (thoughtfully).  No, no!  I cannot!

PRINCE.  You cannot?

QUEEN.  You cannot!  What do you mean?

ISABEL (to the Queen).  Let me go home, your Majesty!

QUEEN.  Go home!

ISABEL.  I am not worthy—­

PRINCE (interrupting).  Nonsense!  That you are poor is nothing to me.

QUEEN (going).  Come, the wedding bells shall ring at once!

ISABEL.  Your Majesty—­I—­I—­did not spin the flax.

QUEEN.  What!  You did not spin the flax?

PRINCE.  What is this?

ISABEL.  I deceived you—­I can scarcely spin at all.

QUEEN.  But this pile of thread here—­

ISABEL.  ’T was spun by another.

PRINCE.  Another?

ISABEL.  Yes, Prince.

QUEEN.  You shall marry that one then, my son!

(To Isabel.)

As for you, return to your hovel!

(Isabel turns to go.)

Stay!

(Isabel stops.)

Who is the wonderful spinner?  Tell us where to find her.

ISABEL.  Here, your Majesty.

QUEEN.  Hidden away, I suppose?

ISABEL (nodding).  Yes, your Highness, behind those curtains.

QUEEN.  Go, my son, and draw the curtains.  You shall be the first to look upon your bride.

[The Prince draws the curtains and sees the three Great-Aunts, who sit in a row.  They smile and smile upon the Prince, who stands looking at them in astonishment.]

FLAT-FOOT.  You’d never be sorry to take me for your bride, my lord.

PRINCE (not heeding).  Why is your foot so flat?

FLAT-FOOT.  From treading the wheel!  From treading the wheel!

HANGING-LIP.  You’d never be sorry to take me for your bride, my lord.

PRINCE (not heeding).  Why is your lip so long?

HANGING-LIP.  From moistening the thread!  From moistening the thread!

BROAD-THUMB.  You’d never be sorry to take me for your bride, my lord.

PRINCE (not heeding).  Why is your thumb so broad?

BROAD-THUMB.  From pressing the thread!  From pressing the thread!

[The Prince turns to Isabel.]