PRINCE (_not heeding_). Why is your lip so long?

HANGING-LIP. From moistening the thread! From moistening the thread!

BROAD-THUMB. You'd never be sorry to take me for your bride, my lord.

PRINCE (_not heeding_). Why is your thumb so broad?

BROAD-THUMB. From pressing the thread! From pressing the thread!

[_The Prince turns to Isabel._]

FLAT-FOOT (_quickly_). Isabel does naught but gaze and gaze, on flowers and
trees and running brooks. Ha, ha, ha!

PRINCE. Is this true, Isabel?

ISABEL (_timidly_). Yes, Prince.

HANGING-LIP. She says these flowers and trees and running brooks do sing
her songs. Ha, ha, ha!

PRINCE. Is this true, Isabel?

ISABEL (_as before_). Yes, Prince.

BROAD-THUMB. And she begs leave to write down these songs. Ha, ha, ha!

[ILLUSTRATION: THE PRINCE SEES THE THREE GREAT-AUNTS]