Cicely.
Oh, I shall die! What’s in the banquet-hall?
Mariana.
Here Flick, quick, Flock, run for the Seneschal!
Seneschal. [Entering hurriedly.]
What now?
Mariana. Our lady’s dying of despair.
Cicely.
Show me, O Seneschal, your bill of fare.
Seneschal.