Which shall with inter'st be repaid ere long.
But where's our queen? where's Fadladinida?
She should be foremost in the gladsome train,
To grace our triumph; but I see she slights me.
This haughty queen shall be no longer mine,
I'll have a sweet and gentle concubine.
Rig. Now, my dear little Phoscophorny, for a swinging lie to bring the queen off, and I'll run with it to her this minute, that we may be all in a story. Say she has got the thorough-go-nimble. [Whispers, and steals off.
Aldi. Speak not, great Chrononhotonthologos,
In accents so injuriously severe
Of Fadladinida, your faithful queen: