MRS. SCHUYLER: Turn up the lights!
LETTY: Our last night in Persia.
MRS. SCHUYLER: I've ordered my "paflouka" out here. (MRS. SCHUYLER crosses to rosebush and, DOWLER jumps out at her.) Mercy—how you scared me!
DOWLEH: Fatima!
MRS. SCHUYLER: Now, I'm a cigarette!
DOWLEH: You are cruel to me—the noble Prince of Persia, who just to be near you, disguised himself as a cook.
MRS. SCHUYLER: Prince, I eat your cooking—that's kind enough.
DOWLEH: (Business.) Yes, I love you so that one day I hear a lady say you paint your face—I put a secret poison in her food—she took one taste—in ten seconds, she die.
MRS. SCHUYLER: It serves her right for telling the truth.
DOWLEH: Come! Fly with me!