Part 3 (1/2)

So sing.

FID. [Singing.] ”Oh, little rose-tree, bloom!

Summer is nearly over.

The dahlias bleed and the phlox is seed, Nothing's left of the clover, And the path of the poppy no one knows,-- I would blossom if I were a rose!

Summer for all your guile Will brown in a week to autumn, And launched leaves throw a shadow below Over the brook's clear bottom, And the chariest bud the year can boast Be brought to bloom by the chastening frost!

Oh, little rose-tree, bloom!”

[As he finishes the song Fidelio goes out, softly strumming the last chords. Bianca and Beatrice did sit quite still for a moment.]

BIA. Do you know what I am thinking, Bice?

BEA. You're wondering where we'll be ten years from now, Or something of that nature.

BIA. Ay, I was wondering Which would be married first, and go away, And would we still be friends.

BEA. Oh, do you doubt it, Snow-White?

BIA. Nay, nay,--I doubt it not, my dear,-- But I was wondering. I am suddenly sad, I know not why. I do not wish to leave you Ever.

BEA. I know. I cannot bear To think of parting. We have been happy these four years Together, have we not?

BIA. Oh, Beatrice! [She weeps.]

BEA. Nay, do not weep!--Come, you must go to bed.

You are tired tonight. We rode too far today.

[She draws Bianca's head down to her shoulder.]

Oh, you are tired, tired, you are very tired.

You must be rocked to sleep, and tucked in bed, And have your eyelids kissed to make you dream Of fairies! Come, dear, come.

BIA. Oh, I do love you, Rose-Red! You are so sweet! Oh, I do love you So much!--so much! I never loved anyone The way that I love you! There is n.o.body In all the world so wonderful as you!

[She throws her arms about Beatrice and clings to her.]

Scene 3

[A room in the palace at Fiori. Lorenzo and Beatrice playing chess. Twilight.]

LOR. You'll not be able to get out of that, I think, my girl, with both your castles gone.

BEA. Be not so sure!--I have a horse still, father, And in a strong position: if I move him here, You lose your bishop; and if you take my bishop, You lose your queen.

LOR. True, but with my two rooks Set here, where I can push them back and forth, My king is safe till worms come in and eat him.

BEA. What say you then to this?--Will you take this p.a.w.n, Or will you not?

LOR. [Studying the board.] Od's bones!--where did that come from?

[Enter Octavia.]