ALEXANDRA—Then what?
AGI—Then I should be kissing you still.
ALEXANDRA—[_Resentfully._] I see it was all a stupid mistake on my part.
AGI—It was too much, your highness ... too much at a time. That is why it
was unconvincing.
ALEXANDRA—Unconvincing?
AGI—Yes. For we hadn’t reached that stage ... and yet ... suddenly you
had kissed me.... Afterwards ... I went out into the garden ... and
wandered about ... for a long time ... not among the roses ... but out
under the oaks where the morning breeze was unscented and cool.... There
... at daybreak ... I grew calmer ... and could weigh and consider....
And I felt like a beggar into whose hat someone had tossed a thousand
crown note instead of a copper ... and who must, in all honesty, run
after the giver and offer it back.
ALEXANDRA—I am glad to see that you know your place so well.
AGI—It is morning, your highness. The sun is shining.
ALEXANDRA—And not the stars.
AGI—No, no; not the stars.
ALEXANDRA—[_Nervously._] I am very glad of it.
AGI—And I. Because you are glad.
ALEXANDRA—I am very glad of it. It is better like this.
AGI—We can’t make it better. [_There is a brief pause. HYACINTH enters at
right. AGI bows._]
HYACINTH—Well, my son, at last you are here. The Princess wants to talk
to you. Yes, and the Crown Prince, too.
AGI—The Crown Prince?
HYACINTH—He would like to make amends for ... that unfortunate
misunderstanding of yesterday.
AGI—Forgive me, father ... but I must ask them to excuse me. I am
leaving. My box is already on the wagon.
HYACINTH—And you proposed to leave us without farewells?
AGI—I have just said good-bye to her highness.
ALEXANDRA—Yes, and in a most extraordinary way.
HYACINTH—How?
ALEXANDRA—Coldly. Sullenly. As if I had insulted him.
HYACINTH—Well, isn’t that interesting? This is the second time he has
divined my thoughts. Yes, you did insult him, my child. Certainly you
hurt his vanity ... perhaps also his self-respect ... with that kindly
little kiss. That is what you mean—isn’t it, my son?
AGI—Yes, father.
ALEXANDRA—A tragic moment like that ... and you call it a kindly little
kiss!
HYACINTH—[_To AGI._] You have your athletic habits to thank for this
wisdom, this healthy clarity of judgment.
ALEXANDRA—And the things he said yesterday ... about his life and his
death and his immortality.... Were they all untrue?
HYACINTH—Don’t you see? Sudden anguish seeks expression in the strongest
language. That is why common people, for instance, become profane in such
moments.
ALEXANDRA—Is that all it meant?
HYACINTH—All? That is a great deal, my daughter, for it manifests a
profound sorrow. An exclamation of pain, as it were, in which the words
are not important.
ALEXANDRA—Which of his words shall I believe then?
HYACINTH—The ones he leaves unspoken now. [_A brief pause._] Well, and
you, my daughter? Now! Be candid.
ALEXANDRA—I, Hyacinth?... If I am to be candid, I believe I love him a
little. [_Puts her head on his shoulder._]
HYACINTH—I myself thought you loved him ... until you kissed him.
ALEXANDRA—You say that, too? I don’t understand any of you. Is there
anything the matter with me?
HYACINTH—No, my child.
ALEXANDRA—And you don’t believe it was love either?
AGI—No, your highness.