Here you have it! How the sapphire sparkles! A beautiful stone!... You praised my face, but yet you don't say whether you like my hand.
The Painter.
Instead of finding fault with me, look! I have painted it.
The Queen (pouting).
You have indeed painted it, but you have not kissed it. From that I conclude that it is not attractive.
The Painter.
And forgive me, if I transgress the rules of your court, more from shyness than from want of intelligence. Even so, the sailor knows well the laws of the stars' movements and yet must often sail a false course.
The Queen.
It seems as if you wished to avoid the subject. I was speaking of a hand--you speak of stars.
The Painter.