# The Prince Who Learned Everything Out of Books/Act 1, Scene 1

THE PRINCE WHO LEARNED EVERYTHING OUT OF BOOKS
King. Weep no more, the welfare of our kingdom demands the sacrifice. The Prince has learned everything which may be had out of books or from teachers. It is necessary now that he should come to know the world.
Queen. Do you think that it is worth the trouble of knowing? I have no confidence in the world. Shall I expose my son, who is so lovely and innocent, to its risks and temptations?
King. We might indeed have confidence could life but detain itself, were it not inevitable that we should be removed from his side in the course of nature while he is still young. The affection of parents is able to raise up walls to protect their children against the evils and the sorrows of life, it can feign for them a world of illusion which is not the real world, but when we die, when our child is called to rule alone over millions of subjects of every condition and class, when he has no longer any friend to love him disinterestedly, to counsel him without malice, to advise him without deception and lies…
Queen. But then what has been the use of all these teachers ?
King. That he might become wearied of them, and be led ​to prefer the reading of fairy-tales and enchantments to their musty lessons. Does that seem little to you?
Queen. Does it satisfy you? Would it not have been better to have taught him the fairy-tales first and afterward the realities of science?
King. By no means! The proper course is first to assure ourselves of the firm ground, and then to scatter the lighter earth upon it, in which roses may bloom—not to throw upon the flowers hard stones and solid rock. We should shape our lives like a Gothic cathedral, well cemented, and buttressed like a fortress below, but flowering above in sculptured garlands and miracles of many-colored glass. The mass is lightened, though it is all of stone, until it seems rather to be floating in the air than founded on the ground.
Queen. Very good, no doubt. Although I fail to see what all this has to do with the journey of our son.
King. His journey is the bridge which we must build for him between truth and illusion. Life itself is such a bridge, and it stretches from one to the other, and unites and blends them in such a way as to create out of them all the reality that we know.
The Prince, the Tutor, and Tony enter.
Queen. My son!
Prince. I come to ask your blessing.
Queen. This parting is too cruel…
King. Remember that you are a queen before you are a mother. Embrace your son, and do not make his courage falter.
Prince. My mother and my Queen! I go content, accompanied by my faithful servitors, my preceptor and my Tony.
Queen. Have you packed the bags without forgetting anything?
​King. What have you there?
Tutor. Books for our studies.
Tony. I have plenty of good food to eat, which is what we shall need most.
Queen. My son, I know it is the King's wish that you travel without pomp or show, as the royal treasury may not become the loot of spendthrifts. But your mother has hoarded these few pieces of money for your use; they were a present from the King to buy me an ermine robe. The one which I am now wearing is somewhat moth-eaten, alas, but until your return I shall have no heart for aught but friezes and coarse flannels.
King. Aha! So that all the tailors and dressmakers in the kingdom will turn republican? You will buy the robe, my dear, and comport yourself as befits your royal station.
Queen. You, my good servants, take good care of your Prince…
Tutor. He will return a sage.
Tony. I shall bring him back well and fat.
Queen. Which is more important. Be careful what you eat. Above all else, do not permit him to stuff himself with tunny fish, roast chestnuts, or gum-drops. The Prince has always had a hankering for such things. Remember that he is heir to the throne.
Tutor. The kingdom will acclaim in him a ruler wise and just.
Queen. Has he plenty of clean underclothes?
Tutor. Of all kinds, your Majesty.
Queen. Where are the three dozen pocket-handkerchiefs I embroidered for you?
Prince. Here, mother… but I never heard that princes used more than one fine pocket-handkerchief on their travels, which must have a lace border, nor that they ever had need ​of clean clothes. Fairy stories say nothing about these things. Princes ride through forests and scale mountains, they are caught in terrible showers, they swim lakes and ford rivers, but they never soil their clothes.
Tony. Does that immunity extend to their servants?—because I should hate to have anything happen to this coat, which is the best of the two that I have.
King. Come, you must hurry and be off before nightfall.
Prince. My father and my lord! My mother!…
Queen. Write every day.
Tutor. But will the letters arrive?
Queen. Yes, the King has given strict orders to assure prompt delivery of the mails.
Tutor. Not so bad! The public always profits somehow from the travelling of princes.
Queen. Good-by! Good-by! You have not forgotten the milk of magnesia?
King. Oh, woman, woman! Will you never learn how to attach to a moment proper dignity and importance?
Tutor. Your Majesty, can anything be more important than these homely cares of a mother?
All. Good-by! Good-by! Good-by!