Part 9 (1/2)

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.