Princess:  I can do that! (Counts on fingers.) To send linen to the washing-tub on Monday, and dry it on Tuesday, and to mangle it Wednesday, and starch it Thursday, and iron it Friday, and fold it in the press against Sunday!

Second Aunt:  Indeed there is little to learn you!  And on Sundays, now, you will go driving in a painted coach, and your dress sewed with gold and with pearls, and the poor of the world envying you on the road.

Queen:  (Claps hands.) There is no one but must envy her, and all that is before her for her lifetime!

First Aunt:  Here is the golden arm-ring the Prince brought for to slip over your hand.

Second Aunt:  It was put on all our generations of queens at the time of the making of their match.

Princess:  (Drawing back her hand.) Mine is not made yet.

First Aunt:  Didn’t you hear me saying, and the Prince saying, there is nothing could be laid down against it.

Princess:  There is one thing against it.

Queen:  Oh, there can be nothing worth while!

Princess:  A thing you would think a great drawback and all your kindred would think it.

Queen:  (Rapidly.) There is nothing, but maybe that she is not so tall as you might think, through the length of the heels of her shoes.

Second Aunt:  We would put up with that much.

Princess:  (Rapidly.) It is that there was a spell put upon me—­by a water-witch that was of my kindred.  At some hours of the day I am as you see me, but at other hours I am changed into a sea-filly from the Country-under-Wave.  And when I smell salt on the west wind I must race and race and race.  And when I hear the call of the gulls or the sea-eagles over my head, I must leap up to meet them till I can hardly tell what is my right element, is it the high air or is it the loosened spring-tide!

Queen:  Stop your nonsense talk.  She is gone wild and raving with the great luck that is come to her!

(Prince has stood up, and is watching her eagerly.)

Princess:  I feel a wind at this very time that is blowing from the wilderness of the sea, and I am changing with it....  There. (Pulls down her hair.) Let my mane go free!  I will race you, Prince, I will race you!  The wind of March will not overtake me, Prince, and I running on the top of the white waves!

(Runs out; Prince entranced, rushes to door.)

Aunts:  (Catching hold of him.) Are you going mad wild like herself?

Prince:  Oh, I will go after her!

First Aunt:  (Clutching him) Do not!  She will drag you to destruction.

Prince:  (Struggling to door.) What matter!  Let me go or she will escape me! (Shaking himself free.) I will never stop till I come to her.