Any color?

THE DUKE.

No.
I rather think I see them white cashmere.

THE TAILOR.

Well, after all, white is the more becoming.

THE DUKE.

The buttons are engraved.

THE TAILOR.

That's not good style.

THE DUKE.

Yes; something--nothing--merely little eagles.

THE TAILOR.

Eagles!

THE DUKE.

Well? What are you afraid of, sir?
And wherefore does your hand shake, master tailor?
What is there strange about the suit of clothes?
Do you no longer boast your skill to make it?

THE FITTER.

Coalscuttle bonnet neatly trimmed with poppies.

THE DUKE.

Take home your latest fashions and your patterns;
That little suit's the only one I want.

THE TAILOR.

But I--

THE DUKE.

'Tis well. Begone, and be discreet.

THE TAILOR.

Yet--

THE DUKE.

'Twould not fit me.

THE TAILOR.

It would fit you.

THE DUKE.

What!

THE TAILOR.

It would fit you well.

THE DUKE.

You're very bold, sir!

THE TAILOR.

And I'm empowered to take your order for it.

THE DUKE.

Ah!

THE TAILOR.

Yes!

THE FITTER.

A flowing cloak of China crape;
Embroidered lining with enormous sleeves.

THE DUKE.

Indeed?

THE TAILOR.

Yes, Highness.

THE DUKE.

A conspirator?
Now I no longer wonder you cite Shakespeare!

THE TAILOR.

The little coat of green holds in its thrall
Deputies, schools, a Peer, and a Field Marshal.

THE FITTER.

Spencer of figured muslin. Satin skirt.

THE TAILOR.

We can arrange your flight.

THE DUKE.

Should I agree
I must beforehand--ay, and there's the rub--
Consult my friend Prince Metternich.

THE TAILOR.

You'll trust us
When you are told our leader is your cousin
The Countess Camerata.

THE DUKE.

Ah, I know!
The daughter of Elisa Baciocchi.

THE TAILOR.

The strange, unarmored amazon, who bears
Her father's likeness proudly in her face,
Seeks dangers, rides unbroken horses, fences--

THE FITTER.

A little sleeveless gown of lightest muslin.

THE TAILOR.

And when you know it's this Penthesilea--

THE FITTER.

The collar's only pinned, the shoulders basted--

THE TAILOR.

Who heads the