PRINCESS.
I am somewhat curious to see the Count.
KING.
So am I, my daughter. Good day, my friend. To whom do these villages here belong?
HOST (aside).
He asks as though he were ready to have me hanged at once.—To the Count of Carabas, your majesty.
KING.
A beautiful country. But I always thought the country must look altogether different if I should cross the border, judging from the maps. Do help me a bit. (He climbs up a tree quickly.)
PRINCESS.
What are you doing, my royal father?