SCENE II
TIME: one week later.
PLACE: the Queen's castle.
| THE QUEEN. |
| THE PRINCE. |
| ISABEL. |
| THE THREE GREAT-AUNTS. |
[The THREE GREAT-AUNTS are working at the last heap of flax in the third room. ISABEL watches them anxiously.]
ISABEL. Think you to finish before the Queen comes?
FLAT-FOOT (nodding as she treads the wheel). Aye, if treading the wheel will do it!
HANGING-LIP (nodding, as she moistens the thread over her lip). Aye, if moistening the thread will do it!
BROAD-THUMB (nodding, as she presses the thread with her thumb). Aye, if pressing the thread will do it!
ISABEL. 'T is to-day she brings the Prince.
FLAT-FOOT. Another minute and we'll have finished.
ISABEL. Should they come suddenly, you know where to hide—behind those curtains there.
THREE GREAT-AUNTS (nodding). Aye, we know!
[A noise is heard in the distance.]
ISABEL. Some one comes!
(She runs to the door, opens it, and looks out.)
The Prince comes down the stairs! Quick, aunts, quick!
FLAT-FOOT (rising). Well, 't is finished!
ISABEL (looking into hall). Now comes the Queen! To the curtains, quick!
[The three Great-Aunts hide behind the curtains, just as the QUEEN and the PRINCE enter.]
QUEEN. Well, have you finished?
ISABEL (pointing to a pile of thread). There's the last of it, your Majesty.
QUEEN (looking at thread). Spun in the finest style, too! Prince, but a week ago these rooms were filled with flax. Now look at them.
PRINCE (looking about). Empty, as if flax had never been here. 'T is wonderful how one maid could do so much!
QUEEN. 'T is most wonderful!
PRINCE. The wedding shall take place to-day. Isabel, come now with us.
ISABEL (thoughtfully). No, no! I cannot!
PRINCE. You cannot?
QUEEN. You cannot! What do you mean?
ISABEL (to the Queen). Let me go home, your Majesty!
QUEEN. Go home!
ISABEL. I am not worthy—
PRINCE (interrupting). Nonsense! That you are poor is nothing to me.
QUEEN (going). Come, the wedding bells shall ring at once!
ISABEL. Your Majesty—I—I—did not spin the flax.
QUEEN. What! You did not spin the flax?
PRINCE. What is this?
ISABEL. I deceived you—I can scarcely spin at all.
QUEEN. But this pile of thread here—
ISABEL. 'T was spun by another.
PRINCE. Another?
ISABEL. Yes, Prince.
QUEEN. You shall marry that one then, my son!
(To Isabel.)
As for you, return to your hovel!
(Isabel turns to go.)
Stay!
(Isabel stops.)
Who is the wonderful spinner? Tell us where to find her.
ISABEL. Here, your Majesty.
QUEEN. Hidden away, I suppose?
ISABEL (nodding). Yes, your Highness, behind those curtains.
QUEEN. Go, my son, and draw the curtains. You shall be the first to look upon your bride.
[The Prince draws the curtains and sees the three Great-Aunts, who sit in a row. They smile and smile upon the Prince, who stands looking at them in astonishment.]
FLAT-FOOT. You'd never be sorry to take me for your bride, my lord.
PRINCE (not heeding). Why is your foot so flat?
FLAT-FOOT. From treading the wheel! From treading the wheel!
HANGING-LIP. You'd never be sorry to take me for your bride, my lord.
PRINCE (not heeding). Why is your lip so long?
HANGING-LIP. From moistening the thread! From moistening the thread!
BROAD-THUMB. You'd never be sorry to take me for your bride, my lord.
PRINCE (not heeding). Why is your thumb so broad?
BROAD-THUMB. From pressing the thread! From pressing the thread!
[The Prince turns to Isabel.]
FLAT-FOOT (quickly). Isabel does naught but gaze and gaze, on flowers and trees and running brooks. Ha, ha, ha!
PRINCE. Is this true, Isabel?
ISABEL (timidly). Yes, Prince.
HANGING-LIP. She says these flowers and trees and running brooks do sing her songs. Ha, ha, ha!
PRINCE. Is this true, Isabel?
ISABEL (as before). Yes, Prince.
BROAD-THUMB. And she begs leave to write down these songs. Ha, ha, ha!
PRINCE. Is this true, Isabel?
ISABEL (hanging head). Yes, Prince.
PRINCE. Isabel, hang not your head. I'll give you time to write your songs.
QUEEN. My son—
PRINCE (interrupting). Nay, nay, mother! The songs please me better than the flat-foot and the hanging-lip and the broad-thumb of the spinners. Come, Isabel, you shall be my princess! You shall sing me your songs! You shall teach me how to gaze upon flowers and trees and running brooks, for these things have ever been dear to my heart. Come, Isabel, come!
