shions past._)

The sublime Divan will assemble immediately, and
then they'll all sit on 'em--the Emperor on
the Great Throne, the Princess on the Little
Throne, and the Doctors on the eight cushions.

(BRIGELLA _enters from the right_.)

BRIGELLA.

I've always got the blues in Pekin. Not half!
Here's the Emperor just gone and issued a fresh
Court ceremonial again, and I can't get it into
my noddle. I keep on practising. I can't do
anything without practising. Oh, all right, you're
a laughing at me. What are you laughing about?

TRUFFALDINO.

Business is good, that's what I'm laughing for.
My business and my adored Princess's. Trade's
flourishing, praised be the Lord! Huge turnover,
commissions promptly executed. Greatest
stock of sheep's heads in the world. The Divan
will assemble immediately. There's another prince
arrived, with his head itching.... _Ut veniant
omnes_--let them all come.

BRIGELLA.

No, it's getting a bit too hot, all our young
sparks going off like match-heads. Strike me
dead, a man _can_ talk without his head--he can
talk with his belly if he's a ventriloquist--but
he can't keep his mouth shut when he's lost his
head. What _are_ you a-laughin' at? It's no joke,
not half! It's not three hours since the last was
polished off, and you can find it in your heart to
laugh!

TRUFFALDINO.

I have good reason to laugh. Every time my
sweet adored Princess has netted one of these
sheepish little princes with her riddles she's in
such an excellent temper she's sure to present me
with a charming token of her Imperial favour.
But you have no taste for such charms.

BRIGELLA.

I've more than you, anyhow! I can't come
out with such high-flying language about your
Princess. The hysterical water-wagtail. What
right has she to turn her nose up at marriage?
Considering she knows nothing about it. Perhaps
she might like it. You never can tell.

TRUFFALDINO.

Marriage! Oh, fie!

BRIGELLA.

Look here, I can't stand hearing a carved turkey
like you cackling rot about marriage. Think of
your own mamma. If she hadn't got married,
where would you be?

TRUFFALDINO.

That's a lie. My mamma never got married at
all, and I'm here just the same. You see me, don't
you?

BRIGELLA.

True; I ought to have seen at the first glance
that you were a bastard.

TRUFFALDINO.

I am not a bastard. I am a child of love. All
geniuses are children of love.

BRIGELLA.

But al