SIGNE goes up to the bed and takes the horn.
STEPMOTHER. Where are you going, Prince?
PRINCE. The day is almost done, Your Grace; the sun is setting, and my bark is longing to get home.
STEPMOTHER. The day is too far gone—the gates are shut, the dogs let loose—You know my dogs?
PRINCE. Indeed! You know my sword?
STEPMOTHER. What is the matter with your sword?
PRINCE. It bleeds at times.
STEPMOTHER. Well, well! But not with women's blood, I trust?—But listen, Prince: how would like to sleep in our Blue Room?
PRINCE. By God, it is my will to sleep at home, in my own bed——
STEPMOTHER. Is that the will of anybody else?