Manus: Did you yourself know me a while ago?
Nurse: (Getting up.) Oh, they're coming! Oh,
my poor child, what way will you that never handled
a spit be able to make out a dinner for the
King?
Manus: This silver whistle, that was her pipe
of music, was given to me by a queen among the
Sidhe that is my godmother. At the sound of it
that will come through the air any earthly thing
I wish for, at my command.
Nurse: Let it be a dinner so.
Manus: So it will come, on a green tablecloth
carried by four swans as white as snow. The
freshest of every meat, the oldest of every drink,
nuts from the trees in Adam's Paradise!
(King, Queen, Princess, Dall Glic come in.
Princess sits on window sill.)
Queen: (To King.) Here now, my dear. Wasn't
I telling you I would take all trouble from your
mind, and that I would not be without finding a
cook for you?
King: He came in a good hour. The want of a
right dinner has downed kingdoms before this.
Queen: Travelling he is in search of service
from the kings of the earth. His wages are in no
way out of measure.
King: Is he a good hand at his trade?