POMPDEBILE (interrupting). The tarts have been stolen!
VIOLETTA (with a shriek, throwing herself on a chair). Stolen! Oh, I shall faint; help me. Oh, oh, to think that any one would take my delicious little, my dear little tarts. My salts. Oh! Oh!
(PASTRY COOKS run to the door and call.)
YELLOW HOSE. Salts! Bring the Lady Violetta's salts.
BLUE HOSE. The Lady Violetta has fainted!
(URSULA enters hurriedly bearing a smelling-bottle.)
URSULA. Here, here—What has happened? Oh, My Lady, my sweet mistress!
POMPDEBILE. Some wretch has stolen the tarts.
(LADY VIOLETTA moans.)
URSULA. Bring some water. I will take off her headdress and bathe her forehead.