PRINCE. [Tears off the OLD LADY'S wig so that her head appears totally bald] There's the false scalp! Now we'll pull out the teeth!
MASTER OF CEREMONIES. Enough! Enough!
He helps the OLD LADY to rise, and gives her a kerchief to cover her head.
OLD LADY. [Crying] Goodness gracious, that I could let myself be fooled like that! But I haven't deserved any better, I admit.
PRINCE. No, you have deserved a great deal worse. You should leave my hunch alone, for otherwise hell breaks loose—It's a miserable thing to see an old woman like you so foolish and so degraded. But, then, you are to be pitied—as all of us are to be pitied.
ALL. We are all to be pitied!
PRINCE. [With a sneer] The queen!
OLD LADY. [In the same tone] The prince!—But haven't we met before?
PRINCE. Perhaps—in our youth—for I am old, too. You had too much frippery on before—but now, when the disguise has been taken away—I begin to distinguish certain features——
OLD LADY. Don't say anything more—don't say anything more—Oh, what have I come to—what is happening to me?