Becket And Other Plays - LightNovelsOnl.com
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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.
