(Mother and daughters start.)
Prince.—They are, indeed! But let us talk of yourself, princess. (They go on speaking in low voices.)
Mab.—Did you hear her, Mother? Did you hear those insulting words?
M.—Never mind, it's no good quarrelling with princes. Come and have some strawberry ice.
(They go out.)
P.—Now, tell me about this wonderful place where you live, for I have not heard of it before. The Silver Mountain! What an enchanting spot it sounds! It must be Fairy-land!
C.—It is, indeed, in Fairy-land!
P.—I was sure of it—a fit abode for so ethereal a being as yourself. You were nourished, I feel sure, on no mortal food—your dainty, beautiful clothes were woven by no mortal hands—they were spun by elves and fairies in some enchanted, far-away spot.
C.—Indeed, I believe they were.
P.—Adorable creature! Come, tell me where this Silver Mountain is, that I may find my way to it over every obstacle.