Kitchen:  The scullions gone?

Cooklet:  Then who’s to guard it?

Head Cook:  You—­of course—­you earthworms!

Both:  O dear, kind cook, we daren’t! (They grovel with fear.)

Head Cook (thunderously):  Daren’t?

Cooklet:  We’re afraid of the dark!

Kitchen:  And oh, we’re afraid of the Brownies!

Head Cook:  Afraid—­afraid—­but vat is zere to be afraid?  If ze Brownies come, you have only to sprinkle zem with ze magical red pepper!

Cooklet:  I should faint directly I saw them!

Kitchen:  O dear, good, handsome, gentle cook, please don’t leave us alone down here to-night!

Head Cook (almost speechless with rage):  But vat you vant?  Do you mean to say—­you—­vant—­Me—­so gr-r-r-reat—­so gr-r-rand—­so mightiful—­Me—­Chief Head Cook—­you vant zat I should keep my eyes avake all night—­ven I have a kitchenmaid and cooklet to suffaire for me?  Is zat vat you mean, heh?

(They nod sheepishly.)

Cooklet:  You’re a man!

Head Cook:  Me—­a man!  Vat nonsense!  I am cook!  You have ze most enormous cheek I’ve ever hit upon!  Bah! (Hits them with rolling-pin.) Get up—­you cr-r-r-rawling caterpillars! (Knock at the door; they scream.) Vat! now you make a noise, you squeaking beetles!

Kitchen:  There’s some one at the door. (They stand trembling.)

Cooklet:  Oh, it sounds like a man!

Head Cook (excitedly):  A man—­my scullions—­they have retur-r-rned to me!

Cooklet:  The scullions!  Saved! (Runs to door R; opens it.)

Kitchen:  Oh, it’s only a beggar!  Be off! (About to shut door.)

Prince (outside):  Nay, mistress, I come in search of work!

(Enter Prince Fairasday, disguised in ragged tunic.  He is red-haired, and very handsome.)

Cooklet:  Work!  O sir, here is a scullion for you!

Head Cook:  Tut, tut, tut!  Zat is for me to say, impertinence!  You may come in, young man. (Prince comes down stage.  Cook seats himself importantly at table.) Now!  Why have you come so late to ask for work?

Prince:  I lost my way in the forest.

Cook:  Sir!  Say, “Sir” ven you spik to me if you do not say “Most Royal Sir.”  Vatever you like—­but do be respectful.

Prince (furious):  Sir!!!!!

Head Cook:  Zat is better—­

Prince:  Nay—­sir—­I—­meant—­

Head Cook:  It does not matter vat you mean so long as you say, “Sir.”  Now answer, if you wish for a place here!  You do—­eh?

Prince:  Why—­why, yes!

Head Cook: Ver’ good.  Zen vere is your last place?

Prince: I lived in the castle of Prince Fairasday—­(Cook raps on table, annoyed.) Eh?