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The Inca Of Perusalem: An Almost Historical Comedietta
by
[The Manager shrugs his shoulders resignedly; makes a deep bow to the Princess; goes to the door; wafts a kiss surreptitiously to Ermyntrude; and goes out.]
THE PRINCESS.It’s wonderful! How have you the courage?
ERMYNTRUDE.In Your Highness’s service I know no fear. Your Highness can leave all unpleasant people to me.
THE PRINCESS.How I wish I could! The most dreadful thing of all I have to go through myself.
ERMYNTRUDE.Dare I ask what it is, Your Highness?
THE PRINCESS.I’m going to be married. I’m to be met here and married to a man I never saw. A boy! A boy who never saw me! One of the sons of the Inca of Perusalem.
ERMYNTRUDE.Indeed? Which son?
THE PRINCESS.I don’t know. They haven’t settled which. It’s a dreadful thing to be a princess: they just marry you to anyone they like. The Inca is to come and look at me, and pick out whichever of his sons he thinks will suit. And then I shall be an alien enemy everywhere except in Perusalem, because the Inca has made war on everybody. And I shall have to pretend that everybody has made war on him. It’s too bad.
ERMYNTRUDE.Still, a husband is a husband. I wish I had one.
THE PRINCESS.Oh, how can you say that! I’m afraid you’re not a nice woman.
ERMYNTRUDE.Your Highness is provided for. I’m not.
THE PRINCESS.Even if you could bear to let a man touch you, you shouldn’t say so.
ERMYNTRUDE.I shall not say so again, Your Highness, except perhaps to the man.
THE PRINCESS.It’s too dreadful to think of. I wonder you can be so coarse. I really don’t think you’ll suit. I feel sure now that you know more about men than you should.
ERMYNTRUDE.I am a widow, Your Highness.
THE PRINCESS[overwhelmed]. Oh, I BEG your pardon. Of course I ought to have known you would not have spoken like that if you were not married. That makes it all right, doesn’t it? I’m so sorry.
[The Manager returns, white, scared, hardly able to speak.]
THE MANAGER.Your Highness, an officer asks to see you on behalf of the Inca of Perusalem.
THE PRINCESS[rising distractedly]. Oh, I can’t, really. Oh, what shall I do?
THE MANAGER.On important business, he says, Your Highness. Captain Duval.
ERMYNTRUDE.Duval! Nonsense! The usual thing. It is the Inca himself, incognito.
THE PRINCESS.Oh, send him away. Oh, I’m so afraid of the Inca. I’m not properly dressed to receive him; and he is so particular: he would order me to stay in my room for a week. Tell him to call tomorrow: say I’m ill in bed. I can’t: I won’t: I daren’t: you must get rid of him somehow.
ERMYNTRUDE.Leave him to me, Your Highness.
THE PRINCESS.You’d never dare!
ERMYNTRUDE.I am an Englishwoman, Your Highness, and perfectly capable of tackling ten Incas if necessary. I will arrange the matter. [To the Manager.] Show Her Highness to her bedroom; and then show Captain Duval in here.
THE PRINCESS.Oh, thank you so much. [She goes to the door. Ermyntrude, noticing that she has left her hat and gloves on the table, runs after her with them.] Oh, THANK you. And oh, please, if I must have one of his sons, I should like a fair one that doesn’t shave, with soft hair and a beard. I couldn’t bear being kissed by a bristly person. [She runs out, the Manager bowing as she passes. He follows her.]
[Ermyntrude whips off her waterproof; hides it; and gets herself swiftly into perfect trim at the mirror, before the Manager, with a large jewel case in his hand, returns, ushering in the Inca.]