The Young Prince [running to the King]. Papa, papa!
King. My boy, didst thou do well to leave thy bed and run with such haste to thy playfellow?
Queen. He begged me, and I let him.
King. So then. [To himself.] Now calm, quite calm!
The Young Prince [running to the door]. Hans, did they shoot much?
King. Thy name is Anna with the golden hair?
Anna Goldhair [shyly]. They call me Goldhair--but--
King. Let it be, it is true. [To the Prince.] Come here!
The Young Prince. Yes, father.
King. Listen! If thou hast that in thee that seethes and bubbles and strives to burst out, then smother it! When others take to themselves the cream from off thy cup of life, do not curse and slay them! Smile and be calm,--quite calm, there still remains in my breast, I fear, a little of that former passion and unrest; I will employ it to shield this calmness of thine.