No, you shall not succeed in making me jealous and distrustful; you shall not destroy my faith: and see you, those that believe are still in paradise, notwithstanding your ancestor, the serpent." "My prince," said Pollnitz, shrugging his shoulders, "your highness looks upon me as a kind of Messiah--at least it pleases you to give me a mother and no father.

But oh, my prince! if you are right about my descent, philosophers are certainly wrong, for they maintain that the serpent of paradise left gold as a fearful inheritance to mankind.

I shall accuse my great-grandmother the serpent of disinheriting me and condemning me to live upon the generosity of my friends and patrons." He looked at the prince, with a sly, covetous glance, but he had not understood him; engaged in deep thought, he had stepped to the window, and was gazing up at the heavens, where the clouds were chasing each other.
"She will be the entire day with my mother, and I shall not see her," he murmured.

Then, turning hastily to Pollnitz, he asked, "How is the queen-mother?
Did I not hear that she was suffering ?" "Certainly, your highness, a severe attack of gout confines her to her chair, and holds her prisoner." "Poor mother! it is long since I saw you." "It is true, the queen complained of it the last time I spoke with her," said Pollnitz, with a perfectly serious face, but with inward rejoicing.
Another pause ensued.

The prince appeared to reflect, and to struggle with his own thoughts and wishes.