Prince (dreamily):  Eh?  Did you speak?

Head Cook:  Shall I tell you what it is?  Your head is turned right around!  When royalty speaks to me, do I swell out?  No!  I know my place!  I take no notice!  But you—­you are nosing but a crawling—­snail!

Prince:  Why, sir, I’ve been engaged to guard the Christmas pie, and not to listen to your rating, so the sooner you are off to bed the better am I pleased!

(Lights candles and hands them to Cooklet and Kitchenmaid.)

Head Cook (furious, spluttering with rage):  Vat—­vat—­vat—­how dare you?

Kitchenmaid:  O dear, good, kind young man, how can we leave you? (Both tearfully fall on knees.)

Cooklet:  Oh, pray, dear, good young man, be careful.

Kitchen:  Yes, dashing, bold young man—­don’t—­don’t be careless! (Both howl loudly).

Head Cook:  Hussies!  Arise!  You concern yourselves much too much for zis young man!  I cannot sink why so much notice should be taken of a scullion!  Yes! (To Prince.) ’Twere better fit I should have told your tale unto Her Highness; and if she questioned you, it was for you to bow and say, “My gr-r-racious master, ze Head Cook, vill spik for me!” In future—­please—­r-r-remember! (Exit, with dignity, followed by Kitchenmaid and Cooklet.  The Brownies cackle with laughter outside.  The stage is now dark, lit only by firelight.)

Prince:  And so my lady sleeps above, and I am in the kitchen, her humblest scullion!  Well, at least I have the chance to serve her now, and guard the dainty pie her dainty fingers touched! (Brownies cackle outside.) What’s that?  The rats, perhaps, that scutter in the wainscot.  Still, if the Brownies come, I’d best have the pepper-pot. If they come—­there’s little fear of that!  I’ve never seen a Brownie, and what I’ve never seen, I own, I’ve little faith in. (Yawning, sitting in armchair.) Well, as I’m to stay all night here, I might as well make myself at ease! (Yawning again.) Oh, dear; I’m very sleepy. (Stretches himself.)

SONG.

(Air:  “Little Dolly Daydream.”)

  Prince:  Now every one has gone to rest,
  To guard the pie I’ll do my best;
    But all are sleeping,
    No one’s peeping;
  To take a little nap myself were best. 
  And if by chance the Brownies come,
  The pepper-pot will drive them home. 
    For if I should be sleeping,
    I’m sure to hear them creeping,
  And then I can wake up before they come. 
  Little sleeping Princess now I’ll dream of thee! 
    So sweet you be,
    And soon you’ll see
  That I love you, darling, tenderly. 
  Little sleeping Princess, dream of me!

(Prince sleeps in armchair.  Soft music outside.  Enter Brownies, mysteriously, to the air:  “Whist! whist! whist!”)