The King: How pale you are, my poor boy! You are very ill. Tête-d'or
Was wise to leave you here. We will look after you, lad.
I look at you! I wish to contemplate
A thing still young, as I myself have been,
And the dawning of power in astonished eyes!
The young man sleeps very tranquilly. He dreams, and in his dream is the morning sun.
The evening has been glorious, a golden day awaits him.
I also have been young. I have been a young man also,
And I have been a little, little child. Now I have lived three score and fifteen years, and I am old and at the end of my life.
And this is what I am, and this is what I see!