olds out the letter. The QUEEN
takes it from her with a strange, stiff gesture._]

Your Majesty, this is the missive sealing officially my tale.

QUEEN

[_Reads the letter, her face played upon by expressions varying
from incredulity to ironic joy. Turning to PHEDRO._]

There is no doubt about this?

PHEDRO [_turning a page_]

You note your Chancellor's signature.

QUEEN

[_Finishes the letter and stands looking intently ahead of her.
She suddenly speaks in a rather strange voice._]

I hate to be trite, but my inner laughter is far too loud to be tamed
into wit; so I think I must use the stock phrase, and observe that
truth is never so tedious as fiction. [_she passes her hand over her
brow_] Come, clown, you may go, or rather my lord, you have my earnest
leave to exchange our presence for the open air, while we sit in
judgment over these discoveries. You may take the young lady with you,
who apparently cannot see [_with a bitter look at CHARLES_] the
interest she evokes.

[_GWYMPLANE drags DEA out half fainting, but turns in the door,
facing them all._]

GWYMPLANE

Take care. It is dangerous to be marionettes too long--even now your
limbs may be turning into sawdust.

[_They exit without paying the QUEEN respect._]

QUEEN

[_Turning to PRINCE CHARLES and then to the DUCHESS._]

How very uncomfortable he will make the House of Lords. Artists are
terrible people, especially when they get out of their _metier_, and
even if they were born gentlemen. [_she takes a hand of the DUCHESS
and of CHARLES_] I request you both to be in my cabinet tomorrow
morning as early as you can manage to rouse yourselves after this
rather full evening, and we shall see what it is fair to do in love
[_she glances softly and rather whimsically at the PRINCE_] and war.
[_looking fixedly at JOSEPHINE_]

[_She throws both their hands away from her as if they had stung
her. An equerry opens the door, and she exits abruptly._]
_PRINCE and the DUCHESS [bowing low to her departing back and
murmuring_]:

Your Majesty is obeyed.

_CURTAIN_

SCENE 2

[_It is night upon the deck of a small schooner, whose sails are
outlined against leaden streaks, commencing to herald the dawn._

_DEA lies extended upon a low couch, beside the chair of URSUS.
In the dim light her form possesses the eternal majesty of
sculpture. From afar the voices