**** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE ****

Find this Story

Print, a form you can hold

Wireless download to your Amazon Kindle

Look for a summary or analysis of this Story.

Enjoy this? Share it!

PAGE 4

The Inca Of Perusalem: An Almost Historical Comedietta
by [?]

ERMYNTRUDE.Then he was at the ball too, Your Highness?

THE PRINCESS[struck by the inference]. I suppose he must have been. I wonder! You know, it’s very sharp of you to find that out. I hope you are not too sharp.

ERMYNTRUDE.A lady’s maid has to be, Your Highness. [She produces some letters.] Your Highness wishes to see my testimonials, no doubt. I have one from an Archdeacon. [She proffers the letters.]

THE PRINCESS[taking them]. Do archdeacons have maids? How curious!

ERMYNTRUDE.No, Your Highness. They have daughters. I have first-rate testimonials from the Archdeacon and from his daughter.

THE PRINCESS[reading them]. The daughter says you are in every respect a treasure. The Archdeacon says he would have kept you if he could possibly have afforded it. Most satisfactory, I’m sure.

ERMYNTRUDE.May I regard myself as engaged then, Your Highness?

THE PRINCESS[alarmed]. Oh, I’m sure I don’t know. If you like, of course; but do you think I ought to?

ERMYNTRUDE.Naturally I think Your Highness ought to, most decidedly.

THE PRINCESS.Oh well, if you think that, I daresay you’re quite right. You’ll excuse my mentioning it, I hope; but what wages–er–?

ERMYNTRUDE.The same as the maid who went to the ball. Your Highness need not make any change.

THE PRINCESS.M’yes. Of course she began with less. But she had such a number of relatives to keep! It was quite heartbreaking: I had to raise her wages again and again.

ERMYNTRUDE.I shall be quite content with what she began on; and I have no relatives dependent on me. And I am willing to wear my own dresses at balls.

THE PRINCESS.I am sure nothing could be fairer than that. My uncle can’t object to that, can he?

ERMYNTRUDE.If he does, Your Highness, ask him to speak to me about it. I shall regard it as part of my duties to speak to your uncle about matters of business.

THE PRINCESS.Would you? You must be frightfully courageous.

ERMYNTRUDE.May I regard myself as engaged, Your Highness? I should like to set about my duties immediately.

THE PRINCESS.Oh yes, I think so. Oh certainly. I–

[A waiter comes in with the tea. He places the tray on the table.]

THE PRINCESS.Oh, thank you.

ERMYNTRUDE[raising the cover from the tea cake and looking at it]. How long has that been standing at the top of the stairs?

THE PRINCESS[terrified]. Oh please! It doesn’t matter.

THE WAITER.It has not been waiting. Straight from the kitchen, madam, believe me.

ERMYNTRUDE.Send the manager here.

THE WAITER.The manager! What do you want with the manager?

ERMYNTRUDE.He will tell you when I have done with him. How dare you treat Her Highness in this disgraceful manner? What sort of pothouse is this? Where did you learn to speak to persons of quality? Take away your cold tea and cold cake instantly. Give them to the chambermaid you were flirting with whilst Her Highness was waiting. Order some fresh tea at once; and do not presume to bring it yourself: have it brought by a civil waiter who is accustomed to wait on ladies, and not, like you, on commercial travellers.

THE WAITER.Alas, madam, I am not accustomed to wait on anybody. Two years ago I was an eminent medical man, my waiting-room was crowded with the flower of the aristocracy and the higher bourgeoisie from nine to six every day. But the war came; and my patients were ordered to give up their luxuries. They gave up their doctors, but kept their week-end hotels, closing every career to me except the career of a waiter. [He puts his fingers on the teapot to test its temperature, and automatically takes out his watch with the other hand as if to count the teapot’s pulse.] You are right: the tea is cold: it was made by the wife of a once fashionable architect. The cake is only half toasted: what can you expect from a ruined west-end tailor whose attempt to establish a second-hand business failed last Tuesday week? Have you the heart to complain to the manager? Have we not suffered enough? Are our miseries nev—- [the manager enters]. Oh Lord! here he is. [The waiter withdraws abjectly, taking the tea tray with him.]