PRINCESS. Don't you ever say anything except good morning? WOODCUTTER. Sometimes I say good-bye. PRINCESS. You _are_ a cross woodcutter to-day. WOODCUTTER. I have work to do. PRINCESS. You are still cutting wood? Don't you ever do anything else? WOODCUTTER. Well, you are still a Princess; don't _you_ ever do anything else? PRINCESS (reproachfully). Now, that's not fair, Woodcutter. You can't say I was a Princess yesterday, when I came and helped you stack your wood. Or the day before, when I tied up your hand where you had cut it. Or the day before that, when we had our meal together on the grass. Was I a Princess then? WOODCUTTER. Somehow I think you were. Somehow I think you were saying to yourself, "Isn't it sweet of a Princess to treat a mere woodcutter like this?" PRINCESS. I think you're perfectly horrid. I've a good mind never to speak to you again. And--and I would, if only I could be sure that you would notice I wasn't speaking to you. WOODCUTTER. After all, I'm just as bad as you. Only yesterday I was thinking to myself how unselfish I was to interrupt my work in order to talk to a mere Princess. PRINCESS. Yes, but the trouble is that you _don't_ interrupt your work. WOODCUTTER (interrupting it and going up to her with a smile). Madam, I am at your service. PRINCESS. I wish I thought you were. WOODCUTTER. Surely you have enough people at your service already. Princes and Chancellors and Chamberlains and Waiting Maids. PRINCESS. Yes, that's just it. That's why I want your help. Particularly in the matter of the Princes. WOODCUTTER. Why, has a suitor come for the hand of her Royal Highness? PRINCESS. Three suitors. And I hate them all. WOODCUTTER. And which are you going to marry? PRINCESS. I don't know. Father hasn't made up his mind yet. WOODCUTTER. And this is a matter which father--which His Majesty decides for himself? PRINCESS. Why, of course! You should read the History Books, Woodcutter. The suitors to the hand of a Princess are always set some trial of strength or test of quality by the King, and the winner marries his daughter. WOODCUTTER. Well, I don't live in a Palace, and I think my own thoughts about these things. I'd better get back to my work. (He goes on with his chopping.) PRINCESS (gently, after a pause). Woodcutter! WOODCUTTER (looking up). Oh, are you there? I thought you were married by this time. 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.