Were I a flower-girl, I'd sell the lot For a bit of bread and meat--I am so hungry I could eat a b.u.t.terfly!

CAR. What ho. Francesca!

I have not seen you since the sun came up!

FRA. This is not I,--I shall not be myself Till it goes down!

LEL. Oh, la, what lovely lilies!

FRA. Be tender with them--I risked my life to get them!

LIL. Where were they?

FRA. Troth, I do not know. I think They were in a dragon's mouth.

LAU. [Suddenly waking] Well, are we going? [All laugh.]

LUI. No one is going that cannot go afoot.

I have enough to carry!

LAU. Nay; take me too!

I am a little thing. What does it matter-- One flower more?

LUI. You are a thousand flowers, Sweet Laura,--you are a meadow full of them-- I'll bring a wagon for you.

CAR. Come. Come home.

[In the meantime the stage has been filling with girls and men bearing flowers, a mult.i.tude of people, in groups and couples, humming the song very softly. As Carlotta speaks several more people take up the song, then finally the whole crowd. They move off slowly, singing.]

SONG. "Strew we flowers on their pathway," etc.

Scene 2

[Bianca's boudoir in the palace at Fiori. Bianca with a mirror in her hand, having her hair done by a maid. Several maids about, holding perfume-flasks, brushes, and veils, articles of apparel of one sort or another. Beatrice standing beside her, watching.]

BIA. Look at me, Rose-Red. Am I pretty enough, Think you, to marry a King?

BEA. You are too pretty.

There is no justice in it. Marry a cobbler And make a king of him. It is unequal,-- Here is one beggarly boy king in his own right, And king by right of you.

BIA. Mario is not A beggarly boy! Nay, tell me truly, Beatrice, What do you think of him?

BEA. La, by my soul!

Have I not told you what I think of him A thousand times? He is graceful enough, I tell you, And hath a well-shaped head.

BIA. Nay, is that all?

BEA. Nay, hands and feet he hath, like any other.

BIA. Oh, out upon you for a surly baggage!

Why will you tease me so? You do not like him, I think.

BEA. Snow-White! Forgive me! La, indeed, I was but jesting! By my sacred word, These brides are serious folk.

BIA. I could not bear To wed a man that was displeasing to you.

Loving him as I do, I could not choose But wed him, if he wished it, but 'twould hurt me To think he did not please you.

BEA. Let me, then, Set your sweet heart at rest. You could not find In Christendom a man would please me more.

BIA. Then I am happy.

BEA. Aye, be happy, child.

BIA. Why do you call me child?

BEA. Faith, 'tis the season O' the year when I am older than you. Besides A bride is always younger than a spinster.

BIA. A spinster! Do you come here to me, Rose-Red, Whilst I pinch you smartly! You, Arianna, push me Her Highness over here, that I may pinch her!

[To Loretta.] Nay, is it finished? Aye, 'tis very well.

Though not so well, Loretta, as many a day When I was doing nothing!--Nay, my girl, 'Tis well enough. He will take me as I am Or leave me as I was.--You may come back In half an hour, if you are grieved about it, And do it again. But go now,--all of you.

I wish to be alone. [To Beatrice.] Not you.

[Exeunt all but Bea. and Bia.]

Oh, Rose-Red, I trust 'twill not be long before I see you As happy as you see me now!

BEA. Indeed, I could not well be happier than I am.

You do not know, maybe, how much I love you.

BIA. Ah, but I do,--I have a measure for it!

BEA. Ay, for today you have. But not for long.

They say a bride forgets her friends,--she cleaves so To her new lord. It cannot but be true.

You will be gone from me. There will be much To drive me from your mind.

BIA. Shall I forget, then, When I am old, I ever was a child?

I tell you I shall never think of you Throughout my life, without such tenderness As breaks the heart,--and I shall think of you Whenever I am most happy, whenever I am Most sad, whenever I see a beautiful thing.

You are a burning lamp to me, a flame The wind cannot blow out, and I shall hold you High in my hand against whatever darkness.

BEA. You are to me a silver bell in a tower.

And when it rings I know I am near home.

Scene 3

[A room in the palace. Mario alone. Enter Beatrice.]

BEA. Mario! I have a message for you!--Nay, You need not hang your head and shun me, Mario, Because you loved me once a little and now Love somebody else much more. The going of love Is no less honest than the coming of it.

It is a human thing.