The Atlantic Book of Modern Plays Part 30

URSULA (_gasping_). That Your Majesty was "pokey" and that she didn't intend to stay there any longer.

POMPDEBILE (_roaring_). _Pokey!!_

URSULA. Yes, Your Majesty, and she bade me call her when you came, but we can't find her, Your Majesty.

(_The_ PASTRY COOKS _whisper._ URSULA _is in tears._)

CHANCELLOR. This should not be countenanced, Your Majesty. The word "pokey" cannot be found in the dictionary. It is the most flagrant disrespect to use a word that is not in the dictionary in connection with a king.

POMPDEBILE. We are quite aware of that, Chancellor, and although we may appear calm on the surface, inwardly we are swelling, _swelling_, with rage and indignation.

KNAVE (_looking out the window_). I see the Lady Violetta in the garden. (_He goes to the door and holds it open, bowing._) The Lady Violetta is at the door, Your Majesty.

(_Enter the_ LADY VIOLETTA, _her purple train over her arm. She has been running._)

VIOLETTA. Am I late? I just remembered and came as fast as I could. I b.u.mped into a sentry and he fell down. I didn't. That's strange, isn't it? I suppose it's because he stands in one position so long he--Why, Pompy dear, what's the matter? Oh, oh!

(_Walking closer_) Your feelings are hurt!

POMPDEBILE. _Don't_ call us Pompy. It doesn't seem to matter to you whether you are divorced or not.

VIOLETTA (_anxiously_). Is that why your feelings are hurt?

POMPDEBILE. Our feelings are not hurt, not at all.

VIOLETTA. Oh, yes, they are, Pompdebile dear. I know, because they are connected with your eyebrows. When your feelings go down, up go your eyebrows, and when your feelings go up, they go down--always.

POMPDEBILE (_severely_). Where have you been?

VIOLETTA. I, just now?

POMPDEBILE. Just now, when you should have been outside that door waiting _breathlessly._

VIOLETTA. I was in the garden. Really, Pompy, you couldn't expect me to stay all day in that ridiculous pantry; and as for being breathless, it's quite impossible to be it unless one has been jumping or something.

POMPDEBILE. What were you doing in the garden?

VIOLETTA (_laughing_). Oh, it was too funny. I must tell you. I found a goat there who had a beard just like the Chancellor's--really it was quite remarkable, the resemblance--in other ways too. I took him by the horns and I looked deep into his eyes, and I said, "Chancellor, if you try to influence Pompy--"

POMPDEBILE (_shouting_). Don't call us Pompy.

VIOLETTA. Excuse me, Pomp--

(_Checking herself._)

KNAVE. And yet I think I remember hearing of an emperor, a great emperor, named Pompey.

POMPDEBILE. We know him not. Begin at once; the people are clamoring at the gates. Bring the ingredients.

(_The_ PASTRY COOKS _open the door, and, single file, six little boys march in, bearing large jars labeled b.u.t.ter, salt, flour, pepper, cinnamon, and milk. The_ COOKS _place a table and a large bowl and a pan in front of the_ LADY VIOLETTA _and give her a spoon. The six little boys stand three on each side._)

VIOLETTA. Oh, what darling little ingredients. May I have an ap.r.o.n, please?

(URSULA _puts a silk ap.r.o.n, embroidered with red hearts, on the_ LADY VIOLETTA.)

BLUE HOSE. We were unable to find a little boy to carry the pepper, My Lady. They all _would_ sneeze in such a disturbing way.

VIOLETTA. This is a perfectly controlled little boy. He hasn't sneezed once.

YELLOW HOSE. That, if it please Your Ladys.h.i.+p, is not a little boy.

VIOLETTA. Oh! How nice! Perhaps she will help me.

CHANCELLOR (_severely_). You are allowed no help, Lady Violetta.

VIOLETTA. Oh, Chancellor, how cruel of you. (_She takes up the spoon, bowing._) Your Majesty, Lords and Ladies of the court, I propose to make (_impressively_) raspberry tarts.

BLUE HOSE. Heaven be kind to us!

YELLOW HOSE (_suddenly agitated_). Your Majesty, I implore your forgiveness. There is no raspberry jam in the palace.

POMPDEBILE What! Who is responsible for this carelessness?

BLUE HOSE. I gave the order to the grocer, but it didn't come.

(_Aside_) I knew something like this would happen. I knew it.

VIOLETTA (_untying her ap.r.o.n_). Then, Pompdebile, I'm very sorry--we shall have to postpone it.

CHANCELLOR. If I may be allowed to suggest, Lady Violetta can prepare something else.

KNAVE. The law distinctly says that the Queen-elect has the privilege of choosing the dish which she prefers to prepare.

VIOLETTA. Dear Pompdebile, let's give it up. It's such a silly law! Why should a great splendid ruler like you follow it just because one of your ancestors, who wasn't half as nice as you are, or one bit wiser, said to do it? Dearest Pompdebile, please.

POMPDEBILE. We are inclined to think that there may be something in what the Lady Violetta says.

CHANCELLOR. I can no longer remain silent. It is due to that brilliant law of Pompdebile the First, justly called the Great, that all members of our male s.e.x are well fed, and, as a natural consequence, happy.

KNAVE. The happiness of a set of moles who never knew the sunlight.

POMPDEBILE. If we made an effort, we could think of a new law--just as wise. It only requires effort.

CHANCELLOR. But the const.i.tution. We can't touch the const.i.tution.

POMPDEBILE (_starting up_). We shall destroy the const.i.tution!

CHANCELLOR. The people are clamoring at the gates!

POMPDEBILE. Oh, I forgot them. No, it has been carried too far.