Niles: You know, it's funny. You could take a million years to plan the perfect evening, and you'd never come up with this. Daphne, I have to ask you a question.
(Frasier looks up at this)
Daphne: Hold on.
(She takes a tissue and blows her nose, long and loud. Frasier takes
the opportunity to hide behind the staircase. Daphne stops, takes a
breath and blows some more)
Daphne: You were saying?
(Niles reaches in his pocket and takes out the ring)
Niles: Daphne Moon, will you, and your beautiful toes and your exquisite ankles and your precious knees, elbows and arms and fingers, shoulders... (holds up the ring) Will you marry me?
Daphne: ...Oh, Niles! Of course I will.
(She throws her arms around him. Frasier holds his hand to his mouth
as he chokes up. At the landing at the top of the stairs, a "royal trumpeter" comes out, mistaking Daphne's acceptance for his cue. As he lifts his horn to his lips, Frasier rushes up the stairs and takes him down with a flying tackle, preserving the silence. Niles slips the ring on Daphne's finger)