BLUE HOSE. Nor I more uncomfortable.
YELLOW HOSE. Even on the day, or rather the night, when I awoke and found myself famous—I refer to the time when I laid before an astonished world my creation, "Humming birds' hearts souffle, au vin blanc"—I did not feel more important. It is a pleasing sensation!
BLUE HOSE. I like it not at all. It makes me dizzy, this eminence on which they have placed us. The Lady Violetta is slim and fair. She does not, in my opinion, look like the kind of person who is capable of making good pastry. I have discovered through long experience that it is the heaviest women who make the lightest pastry, and vice versa. Well, then, suppose that she does not pass this examination—suppose that her pastry is lumpy, white like the skin of a boiled fowl.
YELLOW HOSE. Then, according to the law of the Kingdom of Hearts, we must condemn it, and the Lady Violetta cannot become the bride of Pompdebile. Back to her native land she will be sent, riding a mule.
BLUE HOSE. And she is so pretty, so exquisite! What a law! What an outrageous law!
YELLOW HOSE. Outrageous law! How dare you! There is nothing so necessary to the welfare of the nation as our art. Good cooks make good tempers, don't they? Must not the queen set an example for the other women to follow? Did not our fathers and our grandfathers before us judge the dishes of the previous queens of hearts?
BLUE HOSE. I wish I were mixing the rolls for to-morrow's breakfast.
YELLOW HOSE. Bah! You are fit for nothing else. The affairs of state are beyond you.
(Distant sound of trumpets.)
BLUE HOSE (nervously). What's that?