Lisetta.
I would not grieve thee. Pia, 'twas my love
That sees thy goodness better than thyself.
Pia [hanging the kettle of peas over the coals].
Lisetta, I see the sky at the chimney top.
[Pia begins to sing in her sweet, old, cracked voice, as she stirs the pot:]
Firefly, firefly, come from the shadows,
Twilight is falling over the meadows,
Burn, little garden lamps, flicker and shimmer,
Shine, little meadow stars, twinkle and glimmer.
Firefly, firefly, shine, shine!
Lisetta.
Pia.
Pia.
Yes.
Lisetta.
Pia, come near me here. [Pia kneels by the bed.] Can you not see
How much I love? If I could only speak
To him or he to me, Guido, my love!
Pia.
Surely he is beside thee often.
Lisetta.
His hand is near, but not his heart.
Pia.
Nay, child, 'tis Guido's way. He speaks but little.
When I speak to him look what he says,
"Yes, good Pia," 'tis not much.