CHANCELLOR.  It is, Your Majesty.

POMPDEBILE.  Garlanded with flowers?

CHANCELLOR.  With roses, Your Majesty.

KNAVE (bowing).  The Lady Violetta prefers violets, Your Majesty.

POMPDEBILE.  Let there be a few violets put in with the roses—­er—­We are ready for the ceremony to commence.  We confess to a slight nervousness unbecoming to one of our station.  The Lady Violetta, though trying at times, we have found—­er—­shall we say—­er—­satisfying?

KNAVE (bowing).  Intoxicating, Your Majesty?

CHANCELLOR (shortly).  His Majesty means nothing of the sort.

POMPDEBILE.  No, of course not—­er—­The mule—­Is that—­did you—?

CHANCELLOR (in a grieved tone).  This is hardly necessary.  Have I ever neglected or forgotten any of your commands, Your Majesty?

POMPDEBILE.  You have, often.  However, don’t be insulted.  It takes a great deal of our time and it is most uninteresting.

CHANCELLOR (indignantly).  I resign, Your Majesty.

POMPDEBILE.  Your thirty-seventh resignation will be accepted to-morrow.  Just now it is our wish to begin at once.  The anxiety that no doubt gathered in the breast of each of the seven successive Pompdebiles before us seems to have concentrated in ours.  Already the people are clamoring at the gates of the palace to know the decision.  Begin.  Let the Pages be summoned.

KNAVE (bowing).  Beg pardon, Your Majesty; before summoning the
Pages, should not the Lady Violetta be here?

POMPDEBILE.  She should, and is, we presume, on the other side of that door—­waiting breathlessly.

(THE KNAVE quietly opens the door and closes it.)

KNAVE (bowing).  She is not, Your Majesty, on the other side of that door waiting breathlessly.  In fact, to speak plainly, she is not on the other side of that door at all.

POMPDEBILE.  Can that be true?  Where are her ladies?

KNAVE.  They are all there, Your Majesty.

POMPDEBILE.  Summon one of them.

(THE KNAVE goes out, shutting the door.  He returns, following URSULA, who, very much frightened, throws herself at the KING’S feet.)

POMPDEBILE.  Where is your mistress?

URSULA.  She has gone, Your Majesty.

POMPDEBILE.  Gone!  Where has she gone?

URSULA.  I do not know, Your Majesty.  She was with us a while ago, waiting there, as you commanded.

POMPDEBILE.  Yes, and then—­speak.

URSULA.  Then she started out and forbade us to go with her.

POMPDEBILE.  The thought of possible divorce from us was more than she could bear.  Did she say anything before she left?

URSULA (trembling).  Yes, Your Majesty.

POMPDEBILE.  What was it?  She may have gone to self-destruction. 
What was it?

URSULA.  She said—­