ALMA.
(Rushes out of the bushes with her hair tumbling down.) Father! Jesu Maria! My father! Help!
THE KING.
(Clasping her in his arms.) What is it, child?
A VAGABOND.
(Who has followed the maiden, comes forward and stops.) Ah!—How could I know another had her!
THE KING.
(Rushes upon him with uplifted stick.) Hence, you dirty dog!
THE VAGABOND.
I a dirty dog! What are you, then?