His Wife.
Very well. I have imagined it.
The Man.
And that you are the queen of the ball.
His Wife.
I am ready.
The Man.
And that counts, marquises, and city magnates keep requesting the honour of your hand, but you persistently refuse them, and choose, instead, a man like—like—oh, a man in a beautiful gala dress, a real live prince. What did you say?
His Wife.
That I do not like princes.