Queen of Diamonds. Verily one might think that there lacked meat and cooks and scullions in the land of Spades.
Queen of Clubs. Nay, but I dare say they be short two scullions at the present hour. [They laugh.]
Queen of Hearts (to Queen of Diamonds). What say you?
Queen of Clubs. I was saying that if haste might always so trim our cheeks with color as that which now blooms upon the fair face of our cousin of Spades, it were worth the discomfort of so great an energy.
[Enter Joker, R. He presents fan to Queen of Spades, who fans herself boisterously.]
Joker. Would I were a fan, that even my whispers might be of such grateful reception to a lady's ear!
Queen of Spades. Not my ear, Sir Joker, not my ear. It is my nose that reddens from my efforts.
King of Spades (wiping his brow and neck with his handkerchief). And as to me, it is my neck. 'Tis the pity of being stout.
Joker. The neck, Sir King? Aha, but I warrant that even if it be moist without, it is dry within.
King of Spades (with asperity). Ay, marry, fool; but not so dry as thy wit.