Thy simple story moves me beyond the power of prayer. Now that the flower buried with her doth live, let it bequeath a legacy of love most true and constant to our hearts; so shall the princess from beyond see within our lives a perfect love wrought by her most heavenly agency. And here [kneeling], on bended knee, by thy dear hand that’s clasped in mine, I vow, by all the subtle bonds that nature placed within the world to bind us to the truth, to love thee ever.
Violet.
Rise; thou art the planet of my maiden firmament. I do believe thee. My vow is linked with thine most sweetly and inseparably.
Ideal.
Thy words are bright flowers, whose subtle sweets I do extract and hide away. Ay, I shall live on them when thou art absent, as the patient bee lives on his hoarded store in winter.
Violet.
I hope thou speakest truly as thou dost fairly, for thou speakest as a poet doth, and I have heard,—but pardon me; I’ll not quote the idle gossip.
Ideal.
Violet.