Becket And Other Plays Part 55

LADY GIOVANNA.

And yet I never saw The land so rich in blossom as this year.

COUNT (_holding wreath toward her_).

Was not the year when this was gather'd richer?

LADY GIOVANNA.

How long ago was that?

COUNT.

Alas, ten summers!

A lady that was beautiful as day Sat by me at a rustic festival With other beauties on a mountain meadow, And she was the most beautiful of all; Then but fifteen, and still as beautiful.

The mountain flowers grew thickly round about.

I made a wreath with some of these; I ask'd A ribbon from her hair to bind it with; I whisper'd, Let me crown you Queen of Beauty, And softly placed the chaplet on her head.

A colour, which has colour'd all my life, Flush'd in her face; then I was call'd away; And presently all rose, and so departed.

Ah! she had thrown my chaplet on the gra.s.s, And there I found it.

[_Lets his hands fall, holding wreath despondingly_.

LADY GIOVANNA (_after pause_).

How long since do you say?

COUNT.

That was the very year before you married.

LADY GIOVANNA.

When I was married you were at the wars.

COUNT.

Had she not thrown my chaplet on the gra.s.s, It may be I had never seen the wars.

[_Replaces wreath whence he had taken it_.

LADY GIOVANNA.

Ah, but, my lord, there ran a rumour then That you were kill'd in battle. I can tell you True tears that year were shed for you in Florence.

COUNT.

It might have been as well for me. Unhappily I was but wounded by the enemy there And then imprison'd.

LADY GIOVANNA.

Happily, however, I see you quite recover'd of your wound.

COUNT.

No, no, not quite, Madonna, not yet, not yet.

_Re-enter_ FILIPPO.

FILIPPO.

My lord, a word with you.

COUNT.

Pray, pardon me!

[LADY GIOVANNA _crosses, and pa.s.ses behind chair and takes down wreath; then goes to chair by table_.

COUNT (_to_ FILIPPO).

What is it, Filippo?

FILIPPO.

Spoons, your lords.h.i.+p.

COUNT.

Spoons!

FILIPPO.

Yes, my lord, for wasn't my lady born with a golden spoon in her ladys.h.i.+p's mouth, and we haven't never so much as a silver one for the golden lips of her ladys.h.i.+p.

COUNT.

Have we not half a score of silver spoons?

FILIPPO.

Half o' one, my lord!

COUNT.

How half of one?

FILIPPO.

I trod upon him even now, my lord, in my hurry, and broke him.

COUNT.

And the other nine?

FILIPPO.

Sold! but shall I not mount with your lords.h.i.+p's leave to her ladys.h.i.+p's castle, in your lords.h.i.+p's and her ladys.h.i.+p's name, and confer with her ladys.h.i.+p's seneschal, and so descend again with some of her ladys.h.i.+p's own appurtenances?

COUNT.

Why--no, man. Only see your cloth be clean.

[_Exit_ FILIPPO.

LADY GIOVANNA.

Ay, ay, this faded ribbon was the mode In Florence ten years back. What's here? a scroll Pinned to the wreath.

My lord, you have said so much Of this poor wreath that I was bold enough To take it down, if but to guess what flowers Had made it; and I find a written scroll That seems to run in rhymings. Might I read?

COUNT.

Ay, if you will.

LADY GIOVANNA.

It should be if you can.