HANGING-LIP (growling). I never heard such foolish talk!
ISABEL (not heeding). Mother, a song has come to me,—'t is a song to the beautiful trees. Let me stop to write it down, while my heart is full of it.
BROAD-THUMB (to the Dame). Do not permit it, sister! She should be working. She can scarcely spin at all.
DAME (showing much feeling). Isabel! Isabel! Not a maid in the village thinks of anything but spinning.
ISABEL. Mother, let me stop! Soon the song will leave me. I may ne'er hear it again.
FLAT-FOOT (to the Dame). Sister, she will bring you to shame.
HANGING-LIP. Already the village folk laugh at her!
BROAD-THUMB (nodding). Aye! They call her "the Dreamer." I myself have heard them.
ISABEL. I care not what they call me!
DAME (raising her voice). Nay, but I care. I'll not have you different from other folk.