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MAN, bent with age, with a staff in his hand and a bag on his back, is trudging in front of him.] THE OLD MAN [stops].
- Dear, kind sir-a trifle to a houseless soul!
PEER
- Excuse me; I've got no small change in my pocket-
THE OLD MAN
- Prince Peer! Oh, to think we should meet again-!
PEER
- Who are you?
THE OLD MAN
- You forget the Old Man in the Ronde?
PEER
- Why, you're never-?
THE OLD MAN
- The King of the Dovre, my boy!
PEER
- The Dovre-King? Really? The Dovre-king? Speak!
THE OLD MAN
- Oh, I've come terribly down in the world-!
PEER
- Ruined?
THE OLD MAN
- Ay, plundered of every stiver.
- Here am I tramping it, starved as a wolf.
PEER
- Hur
