Hunter, have you nothing newer?

Hunter:

O, still so much, but silence now.

An end kisses in the end, though

a beginning is still not through.

The Queen gives me a gracious nod

and my words choke up in her grace.

As one blessed, I keep my silence.

The King, the Prince, ladies-in-waiting, and nobles appear.

Snow White:

O good Father, with your august

seal press on that not yet smothered

strife between these two burning hearts.

Accept this kiss, and trample out

this jealous strife into the ground

as an emissary of peace.

King:

I always thought you peaceable.

What kind of strife, my lovely child?

Queen:

No more strife, just a smiling word,

a jest taking a serious mien

that tricks you with a looming brow.

There was some strife here, but no more.

Love knew how to win here. Hate

perished in such a stronger love.

I did hate—it was just a game,

a tantrum taken much too far,

the bluster of a passing mood.

No more than that. Now it’s sweet peace.

For a while a wounded envy

felt it had to hate. Ah, that hurt

myself more than anyone else.

Snow White here can affirm me.

King:

Is the Hunter blameless? The Prince

here bitterly accuses him.

Snow White:

Pureness points to heaven no more.

Perhaps you believe he trafficked

in illicit love with the Queen,

exchanging kiss and embrace, O,

don’t believe that. You are deceived

by the temperament of this man,

which is as precious as a gem.

Love must cherish him, honor crown

him beyond doubt. Brave man, to whom

more gratitude than gratitude

can ever owe, I repay you.

(To the King) Lord, everything is peaceable,

and strife looks just like a blue sky.

King:

Here indeed then a miracle

has happened during this short hour.

Prince:

The villain is villain no more.

Queen:

Hush, noble prince, it’s ignoble,

such a weakness for minor faults,

in the scene you keep pointing at,

whose flowering you sought after,

shielding him instead. Were he great,

we’d not now be standing gathered

so peacefully. Give me your hand,

forget the guilt in a friend’s press.

Prince:

I should forget that here is this

confounded poisonous villain,

the green knave in the hunting clothes,

who for but a short hour courted

such rich favor from the Queen?

Make me forget that I am an

anointed prince and a ruler,

but not this sin, which is too great

for just any oblivion.

Snow White:

O, there’s no longer any sin.

It’s no longer in this circle.

It’s fled from us. The sinner here,

I, as her true child, kiss her hand

and ask of her if she might but

sin as much in so dear a way.

Why, Prince, why do you stir up strife?

Have you forgotten what you swore

only but a short time ago?

Did you not swear love to the Queen,