FAIRY. Wait! Now look up there, in the gable window—a single candle burns, a poor, wretched light. [Tableau.]
PEHR. Poverty! That I know. Show me something pretty!
FAIRY. [Regarding him.] You are pleasure loving. Very well!—Look again up there, around the same Christmas light—it shines dimly but warmly on the contented table of poverty.
PEHR. No! I want to see something beautiful.
FAIRY. Really! Is there anything more beautiful than—but, wait! you shall see—Now look over yonder—toward the castle, where the King lives. [Tableau.]
PEHR. Oh!
FAIRY. Do you see the beautiful robes, the glittering jewels? Do you see how the walls reflect the brilliant lights and how in the middle of winter real roses and blue lilies are in bloom?
PEHR. Oh!
FAIRY. And the young girls, with the flowing locks, who serve wine in silver goblets—
PEHR. There I want to be!