PRINCESS (meekly). I don't want to be married. (Hastily) I mean, not to any of those three.
WOODCUTTER. You can't help yourself.
PRINCESS. I know. That's why I wanted you to help me.
WOODCUTTER (going up to her). Can a simple woodcutter help a Princess?
PRINCESS. Well, perhaps a simple one couldn't, but a clever one might.
WOODCUTTER. What would his reward be?
PRINCESS. His reward would be that the Princess, not being married to any of her three suitors, would still be able to help him chop his wood in the mornings. … I am helping you, aren't I?
WOODCUTTER (smiling). Oh, decidedly.
PRINCESS (nodding). I thought I was.
WOODCUTTER. It is kind of a great lady like yourself to help so humble a fellow as I.
PRINCESS (meekly). I'm not very great. (And she isn't. She is the smallest, daintiest little Princess that ever you saw.)
WOODCUTTER. There's enough of you to make a hundred men unhappy.
PRINCESS. And one man happy?
WOODCUTTER. And one man very, very happy.
PRINCESS (innocently). I wonder who he'll be. … Woodcutter, if you were a Prince, would you be my suitor?
WOODCUTTER (scornfully). One of three?
PRINCESS (excitedly). Oo, would you kill the others? With that axe?
WOODCUTTER. I would not kill them, in order to help His Majesty make up his mind about his son-in-law. But if the Princess had made up her mind—and wanted me——
PRINCESS. Yes?
WOODCUTTER. Then I would marry her, however many suitors she had.
PRINCESS. Well, she's only got three at present.
WOODCUTTER. What is that to me?
PRINCESS. Oh, I just thought you might want to be doing something to your axe.
WOODCUTTER. My axe?
PRINCESS. Yes. You see, she has made up her mind.
WOODCUTTER (amazed). You mean—But—but I'm only a woodcutter.
PRINCESS. That's where you'll have the advantage of them, when it comes to axes.
WOODCUTTER. Princess! (He takes her in his arms) My Princess!
PRINCESS. Woodcutter! My woodcutter! My, oh so very slow and uncomprehending, but entirely adorable woodcutter!
(They sing together. They just happen to feel like that)
WOODCUTTER (the song finished). But what will His Majesty say?
PRINCESS. All sorts of things. … Do you really love me, woodcutter, or have I proposed to you under a misapprehension?
WOODCUTTER. I adore you!
PRINCESS (nodding). I thought you did. But I wanted to hear you say it. If I had been a simple peasant, I suppose you would have said it a long time ago?
WOODCUTTER. I expect so.
PRINCESS (nodding). Yes. … Well, now we must think of a plan for making Mother like you.
WOODCUTTER. Might I just kiss you again before we begin?
PRINCESS. Well, I don't quite see how I am to stop you.
(The WOODCUTTER picks her up in his arms and kisses her.)
WOODCUTTER. There!
PRINCESS (in his arms). Oh, Woodcutter, woodcutter, why didn't you do that the first day I saw you? Then I needn't have had the bother of proposing to you. (He puts her down suddenly) What is it?
WOODCUTTER (listening). Somebody coming. (He peers through the trees and then says in surprise) The King!
PRINCESS. Oh! I must fly!
WOODCUTTER. But you'll come back?
PRINCESS. Perhaps.
[She disappears quickly through the trees.
(The WOODCUTTER goes on with his work and is discovered at it a minute later by the KING and QUEEN.)
KING (puffing). Ah! and a seat all ready for us. How satisfying. (They sit down, a distinguished couple—reading from left to right, "KING, QUEEN"—on a bench outside the WOODCUTTER'S hut.)
QUEEN (crossly—she was like that). I don't know why you dragged me here.
KING. As I told you, my love, to be alone.
QUEEN. Well, you aren't alone. (She indicates the WOODCUTTER.)
KING. Pooh, he doesn't matter. … Well now, about these three Princes. They are getting on my mind rather. It is time we decided which one of them is to marry our beloved child. The trouble is to choose between them.
QUEEN. As regards appetite, there is nothing to choose between them. They are three of the heartiest eaters I have met for some time.
KING. You are right. The sooner we choose one of them, and send the other two about their business, the better. (Reflectively) There were six peaches on the breakfast-table this morning. Did I get one? No.
QUEEN. Did I get one? No.
KING. Did our darling child get one—not that it matters? No.
QUEEN. It is a pity that the seven-headed bull died last year.
KING. Yes, he had a way of sorting out competitors for the hand of our beloved one that was beyond all praise. One could have felt quite sure that, had the three competitors been introduced to him, only one of them would have taken any further interest in the matter.
QUEEN (always the housekeeper). And even he mightn't have taken any interest in his meals.
KING (with a sigh). However, those days are over. We must think of a new test. Somehow I think that, in a son-in-law, moral worth is even more to be desired than mere brute strength. Now my suggestion is this: that you should disguise yourself as a beggar woman and approach each of the three princes in turn, supplicating their charity. In this way we shall discover which of the three has the kindest heart. What do you say, my dear?
QUEEN. An excellent plan. If you remember, I suggested it myself yesterday.
KING
