SWANWHITE. He snaps his bill, that's all—Keep your hands still!—Did you ever hear the tale of the little princess that mustn't mention the name of the prince, lest something happen? And do you know——?
The curtain hiding the peacock is pulled aside, and the bird is seen spreading out his tail so that it looks as if all the "eyes" were staring at SWANWHITE and the PRINCE.
PRINCE. Who pulled away the curtain? Who made the bird behold us with its hundred eyes?—You mustn't ask again!
SWANWHITE. Perhaps I mustn't—Down, Pavo—there!
The curtain resumes its previous position.
PRINCE. Is this place haunted?
SWANWHITE. You mean that things will happen—just like that? Oh, well, so much is happening here—but I have grown accustomed to it. And then, besides—they call my stepmother a witch—There, now, I have pricked my finger!
PRINCE. What did you prick it with?
SWANWHITE. There was a splinter in the yarn. The sheep have been locked up all winter—and then such things will happen. Please see if you can get it out.
PRINCE. We must sit at the table then, so I can see.