"Really, Imma? But I'm sorry for the poor rosebush down in the court, because its roses disgust you with their mouldy smell."
"I won't say that they disgust me, Prince."
"But they disenchant and chill you, don't they?"
"Yes, perhaps."
"But have I ever told you of the popular belief that the rosebush will one day be redeemed, on a day of general happiness, and will bear roses which will add to their great beauty the gift of a lovely natural scent?"
"Well, Prince, we'll have to wait for that."
"No, Imma, we must help and act! We must decide, and have done with all hesitation, little Imma! Tell me—tell me to-day—have you confidence in me?"
"Yes, Prince. I have gained confidence in you latterly."
"There you are! Thank heaven! Didn't I say that I must succeed in the long run? And so you think now that I am in earnest, real, serious earnest about you and about us?"
"Yes, Prince; latterly I have thought that I can think so."
"At last, at last, irresolute little Imma! Oh, how I thank you, I thank you! But in that case you're not afraid, and will let the whole world know that you belong to me?"
"Let them know that you belong to me, Royal Highness, if it's all the same to you."
"That I will, Imma, loudly and surely. But only on one condition, namely, that we don't only think of our own happiness in a selfish and frivolous way, but regard it all from the point of view of the Mass, the Whole. For the public weal and our happiness, you see, are interdependent."
"Well said, Prince. For without our studies of the public weal I should have found it difficult to decide to have confidence in you."
