Mel. And dost thou love me?
Flor.Love thee, gentle maid?
Have I not laughed with thee, and wept with thee,
And ever framed my face in sympathy
With all the changes of thy varying moods?
Hast thou e’er cast thine eyes upon my face
And found me light of heart when thou wast sad?
Or sad when thou wast light of heart?
Mel.No! no!
Most wonderful!