Nor believe not, human brood,
That pursuit of idle dreams fills our whole existence;
Lovers' ways are somewhat crude
When the night wind dead men's bones rattles with
persistence!
(The King, Princess Alma and a Procuress appear on the scene.)
THE PROCURESS.
Now, ballad singer, how much will you take for that pretty boy of yours?——Listen to the pleasant clang of the goldpieces in my pocket!
THE KING.
Just now a circus rider wanted to buy him from me. Leave me and my boy in peace! I didn't come to the beggars' fair for this. Besides, what can you want with my boy!
THE PROCURESS.
Don't think I am so stupid, ballad singer, that I can't see that your boy is a girl! The sweet child will find a mother in me, more full of love for her than any one in the wide, wide world. (To Alma.) Don't tremble so, my pretty little dove! I won't eat you! When one grows up with such a pretty figure and such a round, rosy face, with fresh cherry lips and dark glowing eyes, one sleeps beneath silken covers and not in the open fields. You will not have to play the lute with me. Only to be charming. What pleasanter life can sprightly young blood desire? You will meet ministers of state and barons at my house; you will only have to chose. Have you ever been kissed by a real baron? That tastes better than a tramp's unshaven face!——Look here, ballad singer! Here are two undipped ducats. The girl belongs to me! It's a bargain!
THE KING.
Go snick up, you and your gold!——(To Alma.) That fool woman, in her stupidity, really takes you for a girl in boy's clothes! Why aren't you? If you were a girl, there would be no better opportunity than this to rid yourself of the bristly ballad singer! There is nothing worse than passing 'round the hat for pennies. Perhaps you have already gathered pennies thrown you by the compassionate foster-daughters of this worthy dame?! They always have a chance of being forced again into the exalted ranks of burghers' society as worthy members. Our star is not in the ascendant.