grave of my love. Farewell!--hereafter I will live for my duties; as
I cannot accept your love, I will merit your highest respect.
Farewell, and if from this time onward we are cold and strange,
never forget that our souls belong to each other, and when I dare no
longer think of the past, I will pray for you."

"You never loved me," whispered the count, with pallid, trembling
lips, "or you could not give me up so rashly; you would not have the
cruel courage to spurn me from you. You are weary of me, and since
the prince loves you, you despise the poor humble heart which laid
itself at your feet. Yes, yes, I cannot compete with this man, who
is a prince and the brother of a king; who--"

"Who is my husband," cried she, proudly, "and who, while he loves
me, dares ask that I shall accept his love."

"Ah, now you are angry with me," stammered the count; "you--"

"Hush!" whispered she, "do you not see the prince? Do laugh! Bow
down and give the swans these flowers!"

The count took the flowers, and as he gave them to the swans, he
whispered:

"Give me at least a sign that you are not angry, and that you do not
love the prince. Throw this hated bouquet, which has taken the place
of mine, into the water; it is like a poisoned arrow in my heart."

"Hush!" whispered the princess. She turned and gave the prince a
friendly welcome.