[She hides her face in her hands. Once more the peacock makes a rattling sound with his bill; the doves begin to stir; the three maids enter, one after the other; a gust of wind is heard, and the tops of the rose-trees outside swing back and forth; the golden clouds that have been hanging over the sea disappear, and the blue sea itself turns dark.
SWANWHITE. Does Heaven itself intend to judge us?—Is ill-luck in the house?—Oh, that my sorrow had the power to raise my mother from her grave!
PRINCE. [.Putting his hand on his sword] My life for yours!
SWANWHITE. No, don't—she puts the very swords to sleep!—Oh, that my sorrow could bring back my mother! [The swallows chirp in their nest] What was that?
PRINCE. [Catching sight of the nest] A swallow's nest! I didn't notice it before.
SWANWHITE. Nor I! How did it get there? When?—But all the same it augurs good—And yet the cold sweat of fear is on my brow—and I choke—Look, how the rose itself is withering because that evil woman comes this way—for it is she who comes——
The rose on the table is closing its blossom and drooping its leaves.
PRINCE. But whence came the swallows?
SWANWHITE. They were not sent by her, I'm sure, for they are kindly birds—Now she is here!
STEPMOTHER. [Enters from the rear with the walk of a panther; the rose on the table is completely withered] Signe—take the horn out of the bed!