(Lady Marye) “Ah, Jana, ’tis a hateful sight to me—a posey I may keep! Why, the losing o’ the blossom doth but make it dear!
“Stay! I know thee’lt say ’twas proffered with his love. But, Jana, thou hast much to learn. What, then, is love? Can I then sort my tinder for its building and ply the glass to start its flame? The day is o’er full now of ones who tried the trade. Nay, Jana, only when He toucheth thee and bids thee come and putteth to thy hand His own doth love abide with thee.
“Come to the turret, then. I do find me whetted for a look within.
“How cool the eve! ’Tis creepy to the marrow. Look ye down the hillside there below. See ye the cotter’s taper burning there? How white the night! ’Tis put upon the earth a mantling shroud, and sailing in the silver sky a fairy boat. Perchance it bringeth us the Babe.
“Jana, see’st thou the Stranger? He now doth count the sheep. Dare I trust him there? I see him fondling a lamb and he doth hold it close unto his breast.”
(Jana) “Nay, lady, ’tis the shepherd’s dog who skulketh now ahind the shelter wall.”
(Lady Marye) “Ah, give me, spite o’ this, the power to sing like Thine own bird who swayeth happily upon the forest bough and pours abroad his song where no man heareth him.
“Hear ye them below within the hall? They do lap at swine-broth. Their cups do clank. At morrow’s eve they feast and now do need to stretch their paunches. Full often have I seen my ladye mother’s white robe stained crimson for a jest, and oftener have I been gagged to swallow it. But, Jana, I do laugh, for the greatest jest is he who walloweth in slime and thinketh him a fish.”
(Jana) “See, Lady Marye! This, thy mother’s oaken chest, it still doth bear a scent o’ her. And this, thy gown o’ her own fashioning.”
(Lady Marye) “Yea, Jana, and this o’ her, a strand wound to a ball for mine own casting. And this! I tell thee, ’tis oft and oft she did press me to her own breast and chide me with her singing voice: ‘My Marye, ’tis a game o’ buff, this living o’ these days o’ ours o’ seeking happiness. When ye would catch the rogue he flitteth on.’