MELISANDE (making room for him at her feet). Go on talking nonsense. (He sits down on the ground and leans against the log at her side.) Tell me about yourself. You have told me nothing yet, but that (she smiles at him) your father is a woodcutter.
GERVASE. Yes. He—er—cuts wood.
MELISANDE. And you resolved to go out into the world and seek your fortune?
GERVASE. Yes. You see if you are a third son of a humble woodcutter, nobody thinks very much of you at home, and they never take you out with them; and when you are cutting wood, they always put you where the sawdust gets into your mouth. Because, you see, they have never read history, and so they don't know that the third and youngest son is always the nicest of the family.
MELISANDE. And the tallest and the bravest and the most handsome.
GERVASE. And all the other things you mention.
MELISANDE. So you ran away?
GERVASE. So I ran away—to seek my fortune.
MELISANDE. But your uncle the wizard, or your godmother or somebody, gave you a magic ring to take with you on your travels? (Nodding) They always do, you know.
GERVASE (showing the ring on his finger). Yes, my fairy godmother gave me a magic ring. Here it is.