POMPDEBILE.  Speak, woman, speak.

URSULA.  She said that Your Majesty—­

POMPDEBILE.  A farewell message!  Go on.

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 bumped 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.)