She weeps for so much confusion.
If I may ask, Snow White, kiss her,
something that would express some love.
Snow White (kisses her):
Then permit me this sweet token.
See how pale you are! Forgive me
if I take your pallor’s life with
these kisses. See, they sponge it up,
every bit of this tragic hue
that would so disfigure your bliss.
Hunter, have you nothing newer?
Hunter:
O, still so much, but silence now.
An end kisses in the end, though
a beginning is still not through.
The Queen gives me a gracious nod
and my words choke up in her grace.
As one blessed, I keep my silence.
The King, the Prince, ladies-in-waiting, and nobles appear.
Snow White:
O good Father, with your august
seal press on that not yet smothered
strife between these two burning hearts.
Accept this kiss, and trample out
this jealous strife into the ground
as an emissary of peace.
King:
I always thought you peaceable.
What kind of strife, my lovely child?
Queen:
No more strife, just a smiling word,
a jest taking a serious mien
that tricks you with a looming brow.
There was some strife here, but no more.
Love knew how to win here. Hate
perished in such a stronger love.
I did hate—it was just a game,
a tantrum taken much too far,
the bluster of a passing mood.
No more than that. Now it’s sweet peace.
For a while a wounded envy
felt it had to hate. Ah, that hurt
myself more than anyone else.
Snow White here can affirm me.
King:
Is the Hunter blameless? The Prince
here bitterly accuses him.
Snow White:
Pureness points to heaven no more.
Perhaps you believe he trafficked
in illicit love with the Queen,
exchanging kiss and embrace, O,
don’t believe that. You are deceived
by the temperament of this man,
which is as precious as a gem.
Love must cherish him, honor crown
him beyond doubt. Brave man, to whom
more gratitude than gratitude
can ever owe, I repay you.
(To the King) Lord, everything is peaceable,
and strife looks just like a blue sky.
King:
Here indeed then a miracle
has happened during this short hour.
Prince:
The villain is villain no more.
Queen:
Hush, noble prince, it’s ignoble,
such a weakness for minor faults,
in the scene you keep pointing at,
whose flowering you sought after,
shielding him instead. Were he great,
we’d not now be standing gathered
so peacefully. Give me your hand,
forget the guilt in a friend’s press.
Prince:
I should forget that here is this
confounded poisonous villain,
the green knave in the hunting clothes,
who for but a short hour courted
such rich favor from the Queen?
Make me forget that I am an
anointed prince and a ruler,
but not this sin, which is too great
for just any oblivion.
Snow White:
O, there’s no longer any sin.
It’s no longer in this circle.
It’s fled from us. The sinner here,
I, as her true child, kiss her hand
and ask of her if she might but
sin as much in so dear a way.
Why, Prince, why do you stir up strife?
Have you forgotten what you swore
only but a short time ago?
Did you not swear love to the Queen,
kneel for her beautiful image
of devotion and sweet splendor?
Show now love, it truly befits
you best to joyfully render
the homage here of a shy kiss.
I, too, I thought I had been hurt,
the one harmed, hated, and cast out.
How stupid and stubborn I was
alike to see an evil sin,
to hastily trust in mistrust
and be so blind in bitterness.
Cast off the rash prejudice of
condemnation and fierce justice.
Justice is this clemency here,
and clemency is peace enwreathed,
part of this sweet, blessed revel
that tosses sin into the air,
plays with it as with the flowers.
Be happy you can be happy.
O, could I speak. I must too
for such a great and blessed end.
But I lack that gift for eloquence;
passion is much too wild in me
and I am so intensely filled
by such lofty, contrary joy.
Queen:
Oh, but how sweet you speak, fair child!
King:
Take this kiss, and may all have
a fete of royal joy this day.
Prince, you’d be better served if you
fell in with the general delight.
You don’t want to be a stranger
and apart from such faithfully
devoted, heartfelt happiness.
What? Why do you still look angry?
Prince:
Not angry, nor charming either.
I just don’t know what I should say.
Prince exits.
Queen (to Snow White):
And are you no longer tired now?
You want to laugh again, have fun,
and spread cheer as if it were seed?
Snow White:
I’m tired no more. What? Did the Prince
run in fear from our rejoicing?
Does this befit this noble man?
Queen:
Sure it befits—he’s a coward!
Snow White:
I don’t know if he’s a coward.
But such conduct’s awful of him.
Go, Hunter, bring him back here.
Hunter exits.
I want to scold him when he comes,
and he’ll surely come. He just wants
us anxiously seeking for him.
Queen:
Then he will still be your sweetheart.
And then—then I say, yes indeed,
must say something I remember, say—
What do I say? Ah, yes, then say,
something like this perchance, saying:
“You fired him on with your kisses
to that—”
Snow White:
Hush, O hush. Just the fairy tale
says so, not you and never me.
I said it just once, once like that—
it’s over and done. Father, come.
Lead the way inside for us all.
All go toward the castle.
* The Prince should be seen as shorter than the other characters, even Snow White, and wearing a checkered costume.
THORN ROSE,
THE SLEEPING BEAUTY
Thorn Rose:
You, you who stand in this circle,
please take a good look at this man.
He woke me from my hundred years
of deep sleep and so he wishes
to now take me to be his wife.
King:
He will wish he was not so bold.
What has he done that’s impo
rtant?
Thorn Rose:
He came by this way and kissed me,
and with this kiss he woke me up.
First Lady-in-Waiting:
Anybody could just as well.
Queen:
Surely he has freed the castle
and lifted the spell over us,
yet that, I would hope, should hardly
warrant such a desire as his.
King:
I would hope too,
Second Lady-in-Waiting:
I would hope too, me too,
Thorn Rose:
I would hope too, me too, me too.
King:
Say, good stranger, could you give fair
proof of exactly who you are too?
Thorn Rose:
Does he not have eyes like the sea,
a countenance like marble,
and a deportment like granite?
Well, I would not like such people.
Let him find another sweetheart.
Third Lady-in-Waiting:
Above all, should he not behave
a little friendlier? He stands
like a fence post and doesn’t move.
Nor has his mouth opened either.
Hey? Can you say something or not?
Stranger:
I will talk enough later on.
There’s really no terrible rush.
King:
He awakened us from our sleep
and seems quite still asleep himself.
Groundskeeper:
This service that he has performed
is rather doubtful and he could
have easily spared himself
all this trouble for our sake.
Wasn’t it lovely just to sleep?
Were we not so much better off?
Coachman:
If I still slept, I’d not have to climb
on my box now and be bothering
with those stubborn, stamping horses.
Cook:
If I still slept, I would not now
have to fight with the scullion maids.
Scullery Maid:
And I wouldn’t have to pluck chickens,
Mamselle:*
and I wouldn’t have to fluff the pillows,
Servant:
I would not have to shine these shoes.
Hunter:
The game would be asleep like me
had this monsieur here not come around.
Accountant:
The books would trouble me no more.
I never did settle accounts,
and balances never worried me.
Court Poet:
If I were asleep, no verses
would have to be labored over.
I’d still be lying on my ear
and dreaming of nothing but fame.
Now I’ll wrestle around for rhymes,
earning nothing but ingratitude.
I would rather he had kept to
his cuckoo nest or somewhere else
that suited him and let us sleep.
This was no masterpiece on his part.
Minister:
If only I were still asleep.
I would not be taxing my brain
with such difficult alliances.
Governess:
Must I warn the children all over
to be on their best behavior now?
Perhaps no one thinks of what a world
of trouble this is going to cost me.
Professor:
Science and scholarship for my sake
could have still continued slumbering
peacefully a little while longer.
First Lady-in-Waiting:
Anyway, he surely claims credit
for his having accomplished something.
If only he had graced someone else
with his presence sooner instead
and had been willing to spare us it.
Thorn Rose:
But there he is now after all.
King:
Sadly, yes.
Thorn Rose:
Sadly, yes. Say, how’d you get here?
Don’t you have eyes like the ocean?
Did the waves toss you ashore here?
Did you fall from the clouds to us?
Stranger:
Did I come so undesired then?
Thorn Rose:
So as to disturb my pleasant dream.
Stranger:
Isn’t reality a dream too?
Aren’t we all, even when awake,
going about a bit like dreamers,
sleepwalkers in the light of day,
who play around with caprices
and act as if awake?
Well, we are, but what is being awake?
Does some god lead us by the hand?
Would he not do so where we have gone?
Have we any guarantee that we
would survive without someone higher?
Could we persist without this support
that we therefore do not apprehend,
because it is a riddle to us?
All is a dream, our houses are,
trade, industry, our food each day,
the cities, the countries and the
light and the sun. No one can claim
he understands. Understanding
is but piecemeal, never otherwise.
King:
Just give us details.
Stranger:
Just give us details. As you know,
I felt bored at my father’s court.
So one day I just wandered away
to see for myself what they call life,
and when I felt myself getting tired,
I slept where I could on the hard ground,
and afterward I walked once more,
and if someone stood in my way,
I fought for myself. Then I heard
about you.
Thorn Rose:
about you. About me?
Stranger:
about you. About me? They said
you slept in a tower surrounded
by wild roses and thorns, that you
were under a spell. Only he who
broke through to you could rescue you.
Thorn Rose:
Stranger:
Perhaps I felt like taking the risk.
I continued on my journey
without ever having seen you,
just you in spirit before me,
with me every step of the way.
At twilight, I would spend the time
thinking of how gentle you were and
sweet, and how wonderful it would be
to stir you, for me to look upon
you a little, to draw you toward me
tighter and tighter and you thinking
of me, that I am good enough.
Perhaps I stand here somewhat awkward.
However, something happens as I
just stand here in person, and I do.
So I wandered on and then came here,
walked without any long second thoughts
into this enveloping rankness,
which, like it knew the time had come,
pulled away its thorns then and there
such that I found unobstructed
an entrance and hastened to you.
I saw and kissed you. Then you opened
your eyes,
Thorn Rose:
your eyes, because I had been surprised
by such a bold intruder?
Stranger:
by such a bold intruder? Many,
of those who weren’t as lucky as me,
I saw lying on the ground. A few
seemed to be smiling, as if they
were content in death to have achieved
this tempting prize.
Thorn Rose:
this tempting prize. Those poor men, O those
valiant souls risking life with disdain,
to whom something seemed more beautiful,
to crumble away exemplary,
to have conquered both love and honor,
to exist less worthy and less brave.
I will think about this all my life
and the thought shall be bracing to me,
like a flower’s fragrance. I would be
awful if I didn’t think of it
continually as though it were
my own breath.
Stranger:
my own breath. How true, how true, and I’m
plainly embarrassed at my success
to stand before you—
Thorn Rose:
to stand before you— —where so many
good men had to die, who fervently
desired me just as much as you,
who with blue-flashing eyes and blond hair,
with unsullied courage, with their young
breasts full of youthful compulsion
to snatch from life its zest, competed
for me—you alone touched what fate
would not grant them. We struggle
in vain when it won’t, even when
giants take our cause. Lady Fortune!
Pooh! For a moment there, I was
almost becoming annoyed. Well look
now! I am beginning to believe
you have a right to me and it’s the right thing
that I belong to you now.
Queen:
Don’t you want to think this step through?
Think about what you’re saying here.
Thorn Rose:
Were I to think it over longer,
I could spoil it for me in the end.
No, I am entirely in agreement
with myself, and he is my lord now.
Still, I would rather see my hero
otherwise, as one much more handsome,
somewhat more pleasing and elegant,
more charming too, and in a certain
sense prouder. But, alas, I cannot
say these things. I must accept him now, as
he is, and do so sincerely.
Stranger:
I am your gallant servant always!
And should I but only half please you,
should you have to all but force yourself
to see, to love, and to suffer me,
let me tell you a French proverb now:
L’appétit vient en mangeant.† I hope
that I shall succeed in pleasing you.
Thorn Rose:
So be it! Now let there be music
and let’s all be happy together.
The sun is shining and the sky is
looking blue, and winds are fanning us
with uninhibitedly cool air.
This palace is now coming to life.
And going forward every one of us
will cheerfully challenge ourselves
and eagerly help where there is need,
with our eyes looking bright and living
happy as one and in such a way
that all things considered we shall build
toward a flourishing companionship.
King:
Because what you say, child, isn’t bad,