How do you know that it's an embroidery-frame?
Why, what should a princess be bending over if not an embroidery-frame? Do you expect her to be darning stockings?
Now, that's just one of those petty, bourgeois notions which we ought to suppress. It's not enough that we have to stick in this misery, but we'd like to drag her down, too--that being far above all earthly care----
Tell me, wouldn't you like to have a closer acquaintance with your princess, sometime?
Closer? Why should I?--Isn't she close enough to me, my far-away princess?--for that's what I call her when I talk to myself about her. And to have her _still_ closer?
Why, so that you could talk to her and know what she really was like.
Talk to her! Heaven forbid! Goodness gracious, no! Just see here--how am I to face a princess? I'm an ordinary fellow, the son of poor folks. I haven't polished manners--I haven't even a decent tailor. A lady like that--why, she'd measure me from top to toe in one glance.--I've had my lessons in the fine houses where I've applied as tutor. A glance from boots to cravat--and you're dismissed!
And you think that I--(_correcting herself_)--that this girl is as superficial as that?
"This girl"! Dear me, how that sounds! But, how should I ever succeed in showing her my real self? And even if I should, what would she care?--Oh, yes, if she were like you--so nice and simple--and with such a kindhearted, roguish little twinkle in her eye----!
Because you are laughing at me in your sleeve. And really I deserve nothing better.
But your princess deserves something better than your opinion of her.
You really ought to try to become acquainted with her sometime.
No, no, no--and again no! As long as she remains my far-away princess, she is everything that I want her to be--modest, gracious, loving. She smiles upon me dreamily. Yes, she even listens when I recite my poems to her--and that can't be said of many people! And as soon as I have finished, she sighs, takes a rose from her breast, and casts it down to the poet.--I wrote a few verses yesterday about that rose, that flower which represents the pinnacle of my desires, as it were.
Well, then, here goes. H'm--"Twenty roses nestling close----"
My princess would not have interrupted me.