bathe.

PRINCE. Have you then never seen the shore? And never heard the ocean wash the sand along the beach?

SWANWHITE. No—never! Here I can only hear the roaring waves in time of storm.

PRINCE. Then you have never heard the murmur made by winds that sweep across the waters?

SWANWHITE. It cannot reach me here.

PRINCE. [Pushing his helmet across the table to SWANWHITE] Put it to your ear and listen.

SWANWHITE. [With the helmet at her ear] What is that I hear?

PRINCE. The song of waves, the whispering winds

SWANWHITE. No, I hear human voices—hush! My stepmother is speaking—speaking to the steward—and mentioning my name—and that of the young king, too! She's speaking evil words. She's swearing that I never shall be queen—and vowing that—you—shall take that daughter of her own—that loathsome Lena——

PRINCE. Indeed!—And you can hear it in the helmet?

SWANWHITE. I can.

PRINCE. I didn't know of that. But my godmother gave me the helmet as a christening present.

SWANWHITE. Give me a feather, will you?

PRINCE. It is a pleasure—great as life itself.

SWANWHITE. But you must cut it so that it will write.

PRINCE. You know a thing or two!

SWANWHITE. My father taught me——

The PRINCE pulls a black feather out of the plume on his helmet; then he takes a silver-handled knife from his belt and cuts the quill.

SWANWHITE takes out an ink-well and parchment from a drawer in the table.

PRINCE. Who is Lady Lena?

SWANWHITE. You mean, what kind of person? You want her, do you?

PRINCE. Some evil things are brewing in this house——

SWANWHITE. Fear not! My father has bestowed a gift on me that will bring help in hours of need.

PRINCE. What is it called?

SWANWHITE. It is the horn Stand-By.

PRINCE. Where is it hid?

SWANWHITE. Read in my eye. I dare not let the maids discover it.

PRINCE. [Gazing at her eyes] I see!

SWANWHITE. [Pushing pen, ink and parchment across the table to the PRINCE] Write it.

The PRINCE writes.

SWANWHITE. Yes, that's the place. [She writes again.

PRINCE. What do you write?

SWANWHITE. Names—all pretty names that may be worn by princes!

PRINCE. Except my own!

SWANWHITE. Yours, too!

PRINCE. Leave that alone!

SWANWHITE. Here I have written twenty names—all that I know—and so your name must be there, too. [Pushing the parchment across the table] Read!

The PRINCE reads.

SWANWHITE. Oh, I have read it in your eye!

PRINCE. Don't utter it! I beg you in the name of God the merciful, don't utter it!

SWANWHITE. I read it in his eye!

PRINCE. But do not utter it, I beg of you!

SWANWHITE. And if I do? What then?—Can Lena tell, you think? Your bride! Your love!

PRINCE. Oh, hush, hush, hush!

SWANWHITE. [Jumps up and begins to dance] I know his name—the prettiest name in all the land!

The PRINCE runs up to her, catches hold of her and covers her mouth with his hand.

SWANWHITE. I'll bite your hand; I'll suck your blood; and so I'll be your sister twice—do you know what that can mean?

PRINCE. I'll have two sisters then.

SWANWHITE. [Throwing back her head] O-ho! O-ho! Behold, the ceiling has a hole, and I can see the sky—a tiny piece of sky, a window-pane—and there's a face behind it. Is it an angel's?—See—but see, I tell you!—It's your face!

PRINCE. The angels are not boys, but girls.

SWANWHITE. But it is you.

PRINCE. [Looking up] 'Tis a mirror.

SWANWHITE. Woe to us then! It is the witching mirror of my stepmother, and she has seen it all.

PRINCE. And in the mirror I can see the fireplace—there's a pumpkin hanging in it!

SWANWHITE. [Takes from the fireplace a mottled, strangely shaped pumpkin] What can it be? It has the look of an ear. The witch has heard us, too!—Alas, alas! [She throws the pumpkin into the fireplace and runs across the floor toward the bed; suddenly she stops on one foot, holding up the other]

Oh, she has strewn the floor with needles——

[She sits down and begins to rub her foot.

The PRINCE kneels in front of SWANWHITE in order to help her.

SWANWHITE. No, you mustn't touch my foot—you mustn't!

PRINCE. Dear heart, you must take off your stocking if I am to help.

SWANWHITE. [Sobbing] You mustn't—mustn't see my foot!

PRINCE. But why? Why shouldn't I?

SWANWHITE. I cannot tell; I cannot tell. Go—go away from me! To-morrow I shall tell you, but I can't to-day.

PRINCE. But then your little foot will suffer—let me pull the needle out!

SWANWHITE. Go, go, go!—No, no, you mustn't try!—Oh, had my mother lived, a thing like this could not have happened!—Mother, mother, mother!

PRINCE. I cannot understand—are you afraid of me——?

SWANWHITE. Don't ask me, please—just leave me—oh!

PRINCE. What have I done?

SWANWHITE. Don't leave me, please—I didn't mean to hurt you—but I cannot tell—If I could only reach the shore—the white sand of the beach——

PRINCE. What then?

SWANWHITE. I cannot tell! I cannot tell!

[She hides her face in her hands. Once more the peacock makes a rattling sound with his bill; the doves begin to stir; the three maids enter, one after the other; a gust of wind is heard, and the tops of the rose-trees outside swing back and forth; the golden clouds that have been hanging over the sea disappear, and the blue sea itself turns dark.

SWANWHITE. Does Heaven itself intend to judge us?—Is ill-luck in the house?—Oh, that my sorrow had the power to raise my mother from her grave!

PRINCE. [.Putting his hand on his sword] My life for yours!

SWANWHITE. No,