[_The door, left, is pushed open.... Enter Albert._]
Hist, hist, you must Not enter. The Princess is asleep. She's there— Lies there upon that couch. Please slip away. Go quietly.
_Albert._ I have a message. You Must waken her.
_Etta._ Your tone is somewhat rude, My Lord; the Princess wakens when she pleases; And not before.
_Albert._ The message that I bear Forbids delay. 'Tis from the King himself, Of utmost urgency.
_Etta._ If you but say The Princess sleeps, the King will pardon us. He would not wish his bird disturbed.
_Albert._ His bird Must wake and spread her wings. The other bird Has flown. An unexpected play was staged Last night—I would that I had witnessed it— The King alone was privileged. He liked It not. Deep creases line his face, his eyes Flash steel. The Princess must be wakened, yet I dread to mar that prettiness with grief. O why will maids forget the beauty-sleep That wards away next morning's tears. She fell Asleep—too late, alas!
[_Emma wakes up, seems surprised to see her visitors, sits up and listens unnoticed by them._]
_Etta._ My Lord, your head Is turned. I left her here last night 'tis true, But with the King. To her sweet care he must Have lent the holy silk, see there it lies And shimmers trustfully. You have an answer. 'Twill satisfy the King.
_Albert._ But Charles himself Was witness. Listen! last night another came. Where were your eyes and ears? The King retired Alone, he practised Greek; when suddenly A knavish moonbeam danced its mischief through A chink and blurred the alpha-beta. The King Threw wide the casement hangings, and sought to wrest An ode, a monody from night's allurement, When lo! 'twas farce that greeted him, a farce That failed to tap his laughter.
_Etta._ A chill has knifed My heart. Speak on!
_Albert._ He clearly saw two forms That peered; they seemed to shrink beneath the moon's Cold gaze and then from out this very room There came a restless prancing jennet, that stayed Its curveting, that slid and well-nigh stumbled Beneath the slender weight of whom indeed? But solemn Master Eginhardt.
_Etta._ The Princess Has so demeaned herself! has so abused Her rank and sex! I'll not believe a word Of it, e'en though her pretty lips give their Consent.