Greening (furiously to Head Cook): How did you come to engage such a scurvy-looking fellow?
Head Cook: Of a truth, madame, I vould not have done so, madame, but my scullions have all gone, and I had none to guard ze Christmas pie to-night!
Sweeting: The Christmas pie!
Head Cook: Yes, madame, from ze Brownies. He has consent, now I have told him of ze pepper-pot.
Greening: The pepper-pot! You may go, fellow!
(The Cook retires up back, annoyed; bullies Kitchenmaid and Cooklet, R. Prince and Princess center, making pie. Prince helps her. Head Cook furious.)
Greening: Listen, I have an idea! That man is no scullion!
Sweeting: No scullion?
Greening: I am sure of it! See how he holds himself! How easily he talks with the Princess! I believe he is some prince who has made his way into the castle in disguise—
Sweeting: Yes, look! His sword peeps out beneath his rags! When did a scullion ever wear a sword? Oh, what are we to do?