FRAU V. BROOK. [Amazed.] What? What! Why, Your Highness——!
THE PRINCESS. Let me be, Eugenie. This young man and I have become far too good friends to part in such an unfriendly, yes, almost hostile fashion.
FRAU V. BROOK. Your Highness, I am very much——
THE PRINCESS. [To Strübel.] You and I will certainly remember this hour with great pleasure, and I thank you for it with all my heart. If I only had a rose with me, so as to give you your dear wish! Eugenie, haven't we any roses with us?
FRAU V. BROOK. Your Highness, I am very much——
THE PRINCESS. [Examining herself and searching among the vases.] Well, how are we going to manage it?
STRÜBEL. I most humbly thank—your Highness—for the kind intention.
THE PRINCESS. No, no—wait! [Her glance falls upon the hat which she is holding in her hand—with a sudden thought.] I have it! But don't think that I'm joking. And we'll have to do without scissors! [She tears one of the roses from the hat.] I don't know whether there are just twenty—[Holding out one of the roses to him.] Well? This rose has the merit of being just as real as the sentiment of which we were speaking before—and just as unfading.
STRÜBEL. Is this—to be—my punishment? [The Princess smilingly shakes her head.] Or does your Highness mean by it that only the Unreal never fades?
THE PRINCESS. That's exactly what I mean—because the Unreal must always dwell in the imagination.