(The courtiers resolve to walk on kisses for evermore.)
LORD MAYOR. The Prince has proposed. The Lady Cinderella will now reply.
KING. Lovely creature, take pity on my royal son.
QUEEN. Cinderella, be my daughter.
LORD TIMES (succinctly). Yes, or no?
CINDERELLA. There’s just one thing. Before I answer, I would like that little glass thing to be put in his mouth.
LORD MAYOR (staggered). The Ther-mo-mo-meter?
KING. In our Prince’s mouth!
LORD TIMES. Why not?
CINDERELLA. Just to make sure that he is good.