The king's bedchamber. On the toilet two burning lights. In the
background several pages asleep resting on their knees. The KING,
in half undress, stands before the table, with one arm bent over
the chair, in a reflecting posture. Before him is a medallion and
papers.

KING.
Of a warm fancy she has ever been!
Who can deny it? I could never love her,
Yet has she never seemed to miss my love.
And so 'tis plain—she's false!

[Makes a movement which brings him to himself.
He looks round with surprise.

Where have I been?
Is no one watching here, then, save the king?
The light's burnt out, and yet it is not day.
I must forego my slumbers for to-night.
Take it, kind nature, for enjoyed! No time
Have monarchs to retrieve the nights they lose.
I'm now awake, and day it shall be.

[He puts out the candles, and draws aside the window-curtain.
He observes the sleeping pages—remains for some time standing
before them—then rings a bell.

All
Asleep within the antechamber, too?