The Princess.
No, no--wait! (_Her glance falls upon the hat which she is holding in
her hand with a sudden thought._) I have it!--But don't think that I'm
joking.--And we'll have to do without scissors! (_She tears one of the
roses from the hat._) I don't know whether there are just twenty
(_Holding out one of the roses to him._) Well?--This rose has the
merit of being just as real as the sentiment of which we were speaking
before--and just as unfading.
Struebel.
Is this--to be--my punishment? (The Princess _smilingly shakes her
head._) Or does your Highness mean by it that only the Unreal never
fades?
The Princess.
That's exactly what I mean--because the Unreal must always dwell in the
imagination.
Struebel.
So that's it! Just as it is only the _far-away_ princesses who are
always near to us.
Frau v. Brook.