The Chancellor.
[Corroborating this.] Social functions, Sire! Greatly copied by the lower classes!
[There is a pause.]
The King.
Well, what are we to do? [Moss-Rose is heard, singing, approaching.] Here comes the child now! Why didn’t we prepare for this long ago?
The Gardener.
Sixteen years ago, when I planted that wee slip!
The King.
Something has to be done! Nurse’s suggestion—it’s the simplest! We’ll tell her her own story as if it were a fairy-story! Remember, all must help! All must begin, Once upon a time! [Moss-Rose enters, laden with presents.] Ah, my dear child! Come here! We’re going to tell you something—a fairy-story, eh, my Lords and Ladies?