VIOLETTA (beginning to cry). I don't want to be banished, especially on a mule—
KNAVE. Don't cry, My Lady. It's very—upsetting.
VIOLETTA. I would make a delightful queen. The fêtes that I would give—under the starlight, with soft music stealing from the shadows, fêtes all perfume and deep mystery, where the young—like you and me, Knave—would find the glowing flowers of youth ready to be gathered in all their dewy freshness!
KNAVE. Ah!
VIOLETTA. Those stupid tarts! And wouldn't I make a pretty picture riding on the white palfrey, garlanded with flowers, followed by the cheers of the populace—Long live Queen Violetta, long live Queen Violetta! Those abominable tarts!
KNAVE. I'm afraid that Her Ladyship is vain.
VIOLETTA. I am indeed. Isn't it fortunate?
KNAVE. Fortunate?
VIOLETTA. Well, I mean it would be fortunate if I were going to be queen. They get so much flattery. The queens who don't adore it as I do must be bored to death. Poor things! I'm never so happy as when I am being flattered. It makes me feel all warm and purry. That is another reason why I feel sure I was made to be a queen.
KNAVE (looking ruefully at the pan). You will never be queen, My
Lady, unless we can think of something quickly, some plan—