He is the father, who in memory is living over his
childhood.
PEHR. The father! But he looks so pleasant.
FAIRY. Yes, for he loves some one besides himself.
PEHR. And the youth who puts his arm around the young girl's waist--
[Eagerly.] Now he presses his face against hers--their lips meet--
what does that mean? Does one speak like that in life?
FAIRY. That is love's way of speaking.
PEHR. Love! Then it must be glorious to see it all!
FAIRY. Wait! Now look up there, in the gable window--a single
candle burns, a poor, wretched light. [Tableau.]
PEHR. Poverty! That I know. Show me something pretty!
FAIRY. [Regarding him.] You are pleasure loving. Very well!--Look
again up there, around the same Christmas light--it shines dimly
but warmly on the contented table of poverty.
PEHR. No! I want to see something beautiful.
FAIRY. Really! Is there anything more beautiful than--but, wait!
you shall see--Now look over yonder--toward the castle, where the
King lives. [Tableau.]
PEHR. Oh!
FAIRY. Do you see the beautiful robes, the glittering jewels? Do
you see how the walls reflect the brilliant lights and how in the
middle of winter real roses and blue lilies are in bloom?
PEHR. Oh!
FAIRY. And the young girls, with the flowing locks, who serve wine
in silver goblets--
PEHR. _There_ I want to be!
FAIRY. And now stewards, in white, carry on the dishes.
PEHR. Oh!
FAIRY. The heralds rap on the floor with their staves--the trumpets
sound--[Three strokes of a bell are heard; the tower chamber takes
on its former appearance.
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