much flattery. The queens who don't adore
it as I do must be bored to death. Poor things! I'm never so
happy as when I am being flattered. It makes me feel all warm and
purry. That is another reason why I feel sure I was _made_
to be a queen.

KNAVE (_looking ruefully at the pan_). You will never be queen, My
Lady, unless we can think of something quickly, some plan--

VIOLETTA. Oh, yes, dear Knave, please think of a plan at once.
Banished people, I suppose, have to comb their own hair, put on
their shoes, and button themselves up the back. I have never
performed these estimable and worthy tasks, Knave. I don't know
how; I don't even know how to scent my bath. I haven't the least
idea what makes it smell deliciously of violets. I only know that
it always _does_ smell deliciously of violets because I wish
it that way. I should be miserable; save me, Knave, please.

KNAVE. My mind is unhappily a blank, Your Majesty.

VIOLETTA. It's very unjust. Indeed, it's unjust! No other queen
in the world has to understand cooking; even the Queen of Spades
doesn't. Why should the Queen of Hearts, of all people!

KNAVE. Perhaps it is because--I have heard a proverb: "The way to
the heart is through the--"

VIOLETTA (_angrily, stamping her foot_). Don't repeat that hateful
proverb! Nothing can make me more angry. I feel like crying when
I hear it, too. Now see, I'm crying. You made me.

KNAVE. Why does that proverb make you cry, My Lady?

VIOLETTA. Oh, because it is such a stupid proverb and so silly,
because it's true in most cases, and because--I don't know why.

KNAVE. We are a set of moles here. One might also say that we are
a set of mules. How can moles or mules either be expected to
understand the point of view of a Bird of Paradise when she--

VIOLETTA. Bird of Paradise! Do you mean me?

KNAVE (_bowing_). I do, My Lady, figuratively speaking.

VIOLETTA (_drying her eyes_). How very pretty of you! Do you know,
I think that you would make a splendid chancellor.

KNAVE. Her Ladyship is vain, as I remarked before.

VIOLETTA (_coldly_). As I remarked before, how fortunate. Have you
anything to suggest--a plan?

KNAVE. If only there were time my wife could teach you. Her
figure is squat, round, her nose is clumsy, and her eyes stumble
over it; but her cooking, ah--(_He blows a kiss_) it is a thing to
dream about. She cooks as naturally as the angels sing. The
delicate flavors of her concoctions float over the palat