KNAVE.  And yet I think I remember hearing of an emperor, a great emperor, named Pompey.

POMPDEBILE.  We know him not.  Begin at once; the people are clamoring at the gates.  Bring the ingredients.

(The PASTRY COOKS open the door, and, single file, six little boys march in, bearing large jars labeled butter, salt, flour, pepper, cinnamon, and milk.  The COOKS place a table and a large bowl and a pan in front of the LADY VIOLETTA and give her a spoon.  The six little boys stand three on each side.)

VIOLETTA.  Oh, what darling little ingredients.  May I have an apron, please?

(URSULA puts a silk apron, embroidered with red hearts, on the LADY VIOLETTA.)

BLUE HOSE.  We were unable to find a little boy to carry the pepper, My Lady.  They all would sneeze in such a disturbing way.

VIOLETTA.  This is a perfectly controlled little boy.  He hasn’t sneezed once.

YELLOW HOSE.  That, if it please Your Ladyship, is not a little boy.

VIOLETTA.  Oh!  How nice!  Perhaps she will help me.

CHANCELLOR (severely).  You are allowed no help, Lady Violetta.

VIOLETTA.  Oh, Chancellor, how cruel of you. (She takes up the spoon, bowing.) Your Majesty, Lords and Ladies of the court, I propose to make (impressively) raspberry tarts.

BLUE HOSE.  Heaven be kind to us!

YELLOW HOSE (suddenly agitated).  Your Majesty, I implore your forgiveness.  There is no raspberry jam in the palace.

POMPDEBILE What!  Who is responsible for this carelessness?

BLUE HOSE.  I gave the order to the grocer, but it didn’t come. (Aside) I knew something like this would happen.  I knew it.

VIOLETTA (untying her apron).  Then, Pompdebile, I’m very sorry—­we shall have to postpone it.

CHANCELLOR.  If I may be allowed to suggest, Lady Violetta can prepare something else.

KNAVE.  The law distinctly says that the Queen-elect has the privilege of choosing the dish which she prefers to prepare.

VIOLETTA.  Dear Pompdebile, let’s give it up.  It’s such a silly law!  Why should a great splendid ruler like you follow it just because one of your ancestors, who wasn’t half as nice as you are, or one bit wiser, said to do it?  Dearest Pompdebile, please.

POMPDEBILE.  We are inclined to think that there may be something in what the Lady Violetta says.

CHANCELLOR.  I can no longer remain silent.  It is due to that brilliant law of Pompdebile the First, justly called the Great, that all members of our male sex are well fed, and, as a natural consequence, happy.

KNAVE.  The happiness of a set of moles who never knew the sunlight.

POMPDEBILE.  If we made an effort, we could think of a new law—­just as wise.  It only requires effort.

CHANCELLOR.  But the constitution.  We can’t touch the constitution.