WOODCUTTER.  Sometimes I say good-bye.

PRINCESS.  You are a cross woodcutter to-day.

WOODCUTTER.  I have work to do.

PRINCESS.  You are still cutting wood?  Don’t you ever do anything else?

WOODCUTTER.  Well, you are still a Princess; don’t you ever do anything else?

PRINCESS (reproachfully).  Now, that’s not fair, Woodcutter.  You can’t say I was a Princess yesterday, when I came and helped you stack your wood.  Or the day before, when I tied up your hand where you had cut it.  Or the day before that, when we had our meal together on the grass.  Was I a Princess then?

WOODCUTTER.  Somehow I think you were.  Somehow I think you were saying to yourself, “Isn’t it sweet of a Princess to treat a mere woodcutter like this?”

PRINCESS.  I think you’re perfectly horrid.  I’ve a good mind never to speak to you again.  And—­and I would, if only I could be sure that you would notice I wasn’t speaking to you.

WOODCUTTER.  After all, I’m just as bad as you.  Only yesterday I was thinking to myself how unselfish I was to interrupt my work in order to talk to a mere Princess.

PRINCESS.  Yes, but the trouble is that you don’t interrupt your work.

WOODCUTTER (interrupting it and going up to her with a smile).  Madam, I am at your service.

PRINCESS.  I wish I thought you were.

WOODCUTTER.  Surely you have enough people at your service already. 
Princes and Chancellors and Chamberlains and Waiting Maids.

PRINCESS.  Yes, that’s just it.  That’s why I want your help. 
Particularly in the matter of the Princes.

WOODCUTTER.  Why, has a suitor come for the hand of her Royal Highness?

PRINCESS.  Three suitors.  And I hate them all.

WOODCUTTER.  And which are you going to marry?

PRINCESS.  I don’t know.  Father hasn’t made up his mind yet.

WOODCUTTER.  And this is a matter which father—­which His Majesty decides for himself?

PRINCESS.  Why, of course!  You should read the History Books, Woodcutter.  The suitors to the hand of a Princess are always set some trial of strength or test of quality by the King, and the winner marries his daughter.

WOODCUTTER.  Well, I don’t live in a Palace, and I think my own thoughts about these things.  I’d better get back to my work. (He goes on with his chopping.)

PRINCESS (gently, after a pause).  Woodcutter!

WOODCUTTER (looking up).  Oh, are you there?  I thought you were married by this time.

PRINCESS (meekly).  I don’t want to be married. (Hastily) I mean, not to any of those three.

WOODCUTTER.  You can’t help yourself.

PRINCESS.  I know.  That’s why I wanted you to help me.

WOODCUTTER (going up to her).  Can a simple woodcutter help a Princess?

PRINCESS.  Well, perhaps a simple one couldn’t, but a clever one might.