Prince. Set thy fears at rest; the wonder is fulfilled, and all our pains dispersed in thankful prayer.
Hans. Forgive me, dear my lord and master, that I forgot a moment the bare fact itself, to thee so all-important. I knew thou wouldst never have returned without them, however my heart thirsted after thee.
Prince. Thou wert right. I knew it well.
Hans. Where are they, master? Dost thou bear them in thy breast? I feel thou wouldest. Chide me if thou wilt, but show them to me.
Prince. Look at my helmet. I understand thy eagerness. No sword can cleave them from me, no rush of wind displace them. They are the standard of my fortunes.
Hans. Thy story, master,--come, tell it to me!
Prince. Wait, Hans. The hour will come, at drinking-time, while the dull camp-fire flickers to its end, and the fierce thirst of fighting will not let us sleep,--then will I tell the tale and make it glow anew.
Hans. Master, how changed thou art. Thy fire seems smothered, and thy passions burn less fiercely, being self-controlled.
Prince. Thou art wrong, my friend; in me there dwells no calm. I stir and seethe. Death itself, which I have conquered, reanimates in me. Only henceforth I gain by firmer paths the end which I have chosen. My country that betrayed me, lies small and half-forgotten in the distance. I measure myself against the great henceforth. What are they? Myself shall be the arbiter, and fate shall never again allure me with her cruel "Take what I offer thee" to a starvation feast.
Hans. I look at thee in wonderment. I left thee a boy, I find thee a man. And for this, though my sword has itched in my hand to answer to my thoughts, though I have sat for hours on end in gnawing tedium and spat into the sea, for this result I bless the old wife there. Once more I may strike good blows for thee, once more be proud to guard thee as before.