But at this moment the attention of the audience was diverted by the entrance of the Princess.  May’s misbehaviour was forgotten, and a murmur of admiration rose through the red twilight.  Dressed in a tight-fitting gown of pale blue, opening in front, and finishing in a train held up by the smallest child in the school, Olive moved across the stage like a beautiful bird.  Taking a wreath of white roses from her hair, she presented them to the King.  He had then to kiss her hand, and lead her to a chair.  In the scene that followed, Alice had striven to be intensely pathetic.  She had intended that the King, by a series of kindly put questions, should gradually win the Princess’s confidence, and induce her to tell the truth—­that her affections had already been won by a knight at her father’s Court; that she could love none other.

KING.  But if this knight did not exist; if you had never seen him, you would, I suppose, have accepted my hand?

PRINCESS.  You will not be offended if I tell you the truth?

KING.  No; my word on it.

PRINCESS.  I could never have listened to your love.

KING (rising hastily).  Am I then so ugly, so horrible, so vile, that even if your heart were not engaged elsewhere you could not have listened to me?

PRINCESS.  You are neither horrible nor vile, King Cophetua; but again promise me secrecy, and I will tell you the whole truth.

KING.  I promise.

PRINCESS.  You are loved by a maiden far more beautiful than I; she is dying of love for your sake!  She has suffered much for her love; she is suffering still.

KING.  Who is this maiden?

PRINCESS.  Ah!  She is but a beggar-maid; she lives on charity, the songs she sings, and the flowers she sells in the streets.  And now she is poorer than ever, for your royal mother has caused her to be driven out of the city.

Here the King weeps—­he is supposed to be deeply touched by the Princess’s account of the wrongs done to the beggar-maid—­and it is finally arranged between him and the Princess that they shall pretend to have come to some violent misunderstanding, and that, in their war of words, they shall insult each other’s parents so grossly that all possibilities of a marriage will be for ever at an end.  Throwing aside a chair so as to bring the Queen within ear-shot, the King declares that his royal neighbour is an old dunce, and that there is not enough money in his treasury to pay the Court boot-maker; the Princess retaliates by saying that the royal mother of the crowned head she is addressing is an old cat, who paints her face and beats her maids-of-honour.