THE PRINCE. True enough. I feel that already I am becoming soft. Never before have I been unwilling to leave a city—
THE OLD WOMAN. Or a Queen. . . .
THE PRINCE. I must go on board ship. Is it ready, I wonder? The captain promised to send word to me. . . .
THE OLD WOMAN. Yes, it is time you went, before they have made a lapdog of you.
THE PRINCE. You speak very freely. Are you not afraid of the Queen?
THE OLD WOMAN. She does not know what she is doing. She has grown up in a base time of peace, and she does not understand that it is not a man's business to sleep and drink wine and exchange kisses with pretty queens. She would turn you from your purpose—
THE PRINCE. My purpose? What do you know of my purpose?
THE OLD WOMAN. I have not guessed your secret. But I know that you are not merely taking a pleasure journey. I have seen heroes, and you have the eyes of one. The end of all this journeying from the east to the west is something great and terrible—and I will not have you turned aside.
THE PRINCE. Something great and terrible….Yes….
THE OLD WOMAN. You have the look of one who does not care for rest or peace or the love of a woman for more than a day. But there is a weakness in you, too. If you would go, go quickly.