What a whim! "Highness, that could not be." "No, Gretchen; she had nothing to do with it." Her highness leveled her gaze at the flowers, but her eyes saw only the garret or the barnlike loneliness of the opera during rehearsals.
Gretchen did not move.

She saw that her highness was dreaming; and she herself had dreams.
"Do you like music ?" "Highness, I am always singing." "La-la--la!" sang the princess capriciously.
"La-la--la!" sang Gretchen smiling.

Her voice was not purer or sweeter; it was merely stronger, having been accustomed to the open air.
"Brava!" cried the princess, dropping book and whip and folding the note inside the book.

"Who taught you to sing ?" "Nobody, highness." "What do you do ?" "I am a goose-girl; in the fall and winter I work at odd times in the Black Eagle." "The Black Eagle?
A tavern ?" "Yes, Highness." "Tell me all about yourself." This was easy for Gretchen; there was so little.
"Neither mother nor father.

Our lives are something alike.