The Young Prince. Have I been bad, father? When thou lookest at me so, I am afraid.
Queen. Come!
The Young Prince. The father is angry.
Queen. The father jests.
The Young Prince. Good night!
King. Good night!
Queen. I cannot find the key that harmonizes with thy mood; though once I knew how to resolve into harmony all the dissonance in the world. Perhaps the knowledge will come back again.
King. Perhaps.
Queen. And good night! [They clasp hands. The Queen, the Prince, and Anna Goldhair go out.]
King. No statue stands in the cathedral gates as stony as thou art. Hatred grazes thee, envy seeks to belittle thy worth. But thou smilest not. Thou movest in silent resignation, so tense, so ... Say, how canst thou?