CHANCELLOR (knocking loudly). The King commands you to open the door.
VIOLETTA. Commands! Tell him—Is he there—with you?
CHANCELLOR. His Majesty is at the door.
VIOLETTA. Pompy, I think you are rude, very rude indeed. I don't see how you can be so rude—to command me, your own Violetta who loves you so. (She again looks in vain for the KNAVE.) Oh, dear! (Wringing her hands) Where can he be!
POMPDEBILE (outside). This is nonsense. Don't you see how worried we are? It is a compliment to you—
VIOLETTA. Well, come in; I don't care—only I'm sure they are not finished.
(She opens the door for the KING, the CHANCELLOR, and the two PASTRY COOKS. The KING walks to his throne. He finds LADY VIOLETTA'S lace handkerchief on it.)
POMPDEBILE (holding up handkerchief). What is this?
VIOLETTA. Oh, that's my handkerchief.
POMPDEBILE. It is very damp. Can it be that you are anxious, that you are afraid?