The Young Prince. What happiness! Is it not, Hans! If I were grown! If I were a man!
Hans Lorbass. Come here!
The Young Prince. Why dost thou look at me so sternly? Just like the father.... Wouldst thou strike me? No, thou shalt not.... I am a king's son.
Hans Lorbass. Come here!
The Young Prince. I am not afraid. [Goes to him.] Just think, the people say the father hates me. I believe it not. Whatever he should do, I know right well he loves me,--even as much as thou, my Hans. [Throws his arms around him.]
Hans Lorbass. How dost thou know?
The Young Prince. What, Hans?
Hans Lorbass. About the father.
The Young Prince. Listen! One night, quite lately, when I had been a little while in my bed, and was all alone, only think!--he came very softly within my chamber. I was afraid, because I had not seen him in so long, and all the people said: "The King is wicked." But he stood there before my bed and looked at me,--Hans, what is all that noise?
Hans Lorbass. Hasten,--thou knowest not what it means to thee!