_The_ Queen _sits on the platform with her distaff before her, and gazes dreamily into the red glow, which shines through the window. Two old women sit spinning before the fire-place, in which a dying fire glimmers_. Anna Goldhair _and the young_ Prince _on the steps of the platform. Through the drawn curtains plays the red evening light._ _The Young Prince_. Say, mother, will the father come soon? _Queen_. Of course. _The Young Prince_. Will he come before my bed-time? _Queen_. I do not know. _The Young Prince_. The wood is full of darkness, is it not? _Queen_. Where our King goes, there is always light!... What, Anna, art thou eavesdropping? Must I blush before thee, because I voiced a cry out of my soul's longing, which envious time would smother? _Anna Goldhair_. Beloved Queen.... I know well that I am too young; my little thoughts whisk twittering like swallows through my head,-- _The Young Prince_. And she pretends to me she is so wise! _Queen_. Run, run, my child! _The Young Prince_. I will get her by the hair first! [_He tugs at_ Anna's _hair_. Anna Goldhair _pushes him off laughing._] Just wait! [_He runs from her to the spinning-women, and teases them._] _Anna Goldhair_. But if thou hast need of any one to whisper to, in whose breast at the still evening-time to plunge thine overflowing soul--of anyone who if need were, could go for thee to her death as to a feast,--thou knowest, dearest Queen, I am that one! _Queen_ [_caressing her_]. Yes, deep in my heart I know that thou art mine. [_She rises._] But if it be death here for any human being, I am that one! _Anna Goldhair_ [_frightened_]. What troubles thee, beloved Lady? [_Three maidens, young and pretty, have entered shyly._] _Queen_. It is nothing,--nothing!... Why, here! What seek you my children?... What not a word? Have you a favor to be granted, a complaint to make? If you cannot speak, why then you must go away again! _Anna Goldhair_. Mistress forgive them. They are of thy train, and they have asked me to plead for them, lest their too eager speech should lose for them the favor they desire. _Queen_. Well? _Anna Goldhair_. Dear Mistress, there is an old custom that runs thus: when Easter-tide has come into the land, when the thorn bush grows faintly green, when the blue wave shines bluer, when our desire takes wing to sport among the flying things of spring,--that then, upon the coming of the first full moon, the night must be watched out with sport and dance. In a word they would sing. _Queen_ [_smiling_]. Ah, yes!... But tell me, dear children, if you knew it, then why did this custom vanish from the land so many years? _Anna Goldhair_. We honored thy sorrow, my Queen. _Queen_. Well, then, go out and dance and frolic and sing together all night long! Know you the song that you should sing? [_The maidens nod eagerly._] _Queen_. Go out and drink the moonlight as it pours down through the branches; I think we little know how blessed we are.