_(Enter Prince Fairasday, disguised in ragged tunic. He is red-haired, and very handsome.)_

_Cooklet_: Work! O sir, here is a scullion for you!

_Head Cook_: Tut, tut, tut! Zat is for me to say, impertinence! You may come in, young man. _(Prince comes down stage. Cook seats himself importantly at table.)_ Now! Why have you come so late to ask for work?

_Prince_: I lost my way in the forest.

_Cook_: Sir! Say, "Sir" ven you spik to me if you do not say "Most Royal Sir." Vatever you like--but do be respectful.

_Prince (furious)_: Sir!!!!!

_Head Cook_: Zat is better--

_Prince_: Nay--sir--I--meant--

_Head Cook_: It does not matter vat you mean so long as you say, "Sir." Now answer, if you wish for a place here! You do--eh?

_Prince_: Why--why, yes!

_Head Cook:_ Ver' good. Zen vere is your last place?

_Prince:_ I lived in the castle of Prince Fairasday--_(Cook raps on table, annoyed.)_ Eh?

_Head Cook (shouting furiously):_ Sir!

_Prince:_ Oh--oh, yes, I beg your pardon _(humbly, laughing),_ sir.

_Head Cook:_ Vell, zen, I must know vy you leave.

_Prince:_ Why--sir--my master has fallen in love with the Princess Fadeaway--and so I thought I would come and see what sort of a princess she was--for my master in his love-sick fever is sad company for any one.

_Head Cook:_ But if he is so in lof, vy does not your master come to woo the Princess?

_Prince:_ Why, sir _(bowing)_, he had heard of too many who had been denied admittance, and as my master is proud and determined, he made up his mind he would not risk being turned away like the others.

But, sir, if you will let me stay and work for you, in whatever post, however humble, I promise you if my answers do not satisfy, my service shall.

_Head Cook:_ You are villing--ah, but zey all say that. H'm--let me see what you can do. Vash up these. _(Points to dirty plates.)_

_Prince:_ Those! Why, that is scullion's work!

_Head Cook:_ Yes, and there is a scullion's place all ready.

_Prince (indignantly):_ A scullion! I had meant a place with horses--in the garden--where I might work out-of-doors.

_Kitchen:_ O dear, kind young man, pray, pray do not speak like that.

_Cooklet:_ Oh, we beseech you, take the place! _(Both fall on knees before him.)_

_Prince_: Why, what's the matter?

_Kitchen_: If there's no scullion here we have to guard the Christmas pie, and if we guard the pie we d-d-die!

_Prince_: What danger threatens you?

_Both_: The Brownies!

_Prince_: Brownies! What are Brownies?

_Head Cook_: Vy, vat sort of kitchen have you lived in, if you have never seen ze Brownies?

_Prince_: Oh, I was more like a friend than a page to my master, sir, and the fact is, I've never been in a kitchen before. Er--what are Brownies?

_(Brownies cackle with laughter outside.)_

_Head Cook_: Zey are ze evilest leetle beasts in all ze vorld! Venever you sink you are rid of zem, zere zey are at your elbow. (_Brownies laugh again_.) Vey steal, zey pinch, zey poke, zey pry, and at night, ven all ze house is still, zey come out, and if you do not keep your eyes ver' wide awake zey vill pinch you till you die--zat is, ven you guard the Christmas pie.

_Prince_: I? Oh, this pleasant little job is meant for me--me? I thank you, sir? (_Indignantly takes up his cap, preparing to go_.)

_Head Cook_: Not so fast, young man. Zey will come, yes; zey vill try to steal, yes--but zere is vun sing zat vill send them avay quick--slick--like zat. It is--RED PEPPER!

_Prince_: Red Pepper! How dare you call me that?

_Head Cook_: Eh?

_Prince_: Who told you I was called Red Pepper?

_Head Cook_: You?

_Prince_: Why, yes. Did you not mean me?

_Head Cook_: Why no. I mean red pepper, from the pepper-pot (_taking it off shelf_).

_Prince_: Strange, for that's the name by which I'm known among my people. Why--sir--how can red pepper help me against the Brownies.

DUET (_Cook_ and _Prince_).

(Air: "There Lived a King, as I've Been Told."--_The Gondoliers_.)

_Cook_: Now very hard it is to make A Brownie his bad ways forsake, For it's a fact he takes the cake, If he can't find the candy!

And if you clap your hands and shoo, He'll only make a face at you; There's only one thing you can do-- Just keep the pepper handy!

For, as a Brownie hates to sneeze, Or blow his nose if it should tease, Or any wholesome acts like these, He can't abide Red Pepper!

_Prince_: Yet that's the name that's given me, For, as you all can plainly see, My hair is red as red can be-- In fact it's fiery scarlet!

And as my hair, my temper is; So if a page my hair should quiz, I waste no time, but straight pull his, And thrash the saucy varlet!

So that is why the name I've got, And as, when I am waxing hot I frequently dismiss the lot, They can't abide Red Pepper!

(_A dance can be arranged here with Prince, Cook, Kitchenmaid and Cooklet_.)