keeps silent_].

HERBORIST [_looking at the slope_]. What a host of blessed flowers! I'll
soon get my bag filled here. There are some of the right kind among them
I'm sure.

HADDA PADDA. That is a pretty bag you have.

HERBORIST. I thought it an insult to the flowers to put them in a coarse
sack, so I took my pillow case.

HADDA PADDA. Are there only flowers in it?

HERBORIST. They are healing plants.

HADDA PADDA. That's true. You heal with herbs.... You believe in their
power?

HERBORIST. I believe in a fact that cannot be doubted. And I am quite
sure that there is no disease that could not be healed by herbs, if
people knew enough about their mysteries.

HADDA PADDA. There are wounds, I suppose, that only death can heal.

HERBORIST [looking down into the bag, she takes out an herb]. I think
the young lady is very depressed, Shall I show her an herb that can heal
many ills?

HADDA PADDA. A lady-slipper?

HERBORIST. It is also called the love flower.... If you would gain a
man's heart you slip it under his pillow.

HADDA PADDA. Don't you see the ring on my finger? Don't you know my
sweetheart?

HERBORIST. Yes, certainly.--He was a handsome boy. [Plays with the bag,
as she hums.]:

"When love is the strongest, it leads to your fall, A maid's happy
longest, who heeds no man's call."

HADDA PADDA [drawing her scarf more closely around her]. Do you hear the
flies buzzing?

HERBORIST [looking deep down into the bag]. Yes.

HADDA PADDA. It is like the sound of a burning wick.

HERBORIST [does not hear].

HADDA PADDA. Now there is only one left.--It is buzzing around my bead.
[Putting her hand on the arm of the herborist.] Say something to me,
good healer.

HERBORIST. Pretty are her hands! Were they chapped or sore I would heal
them with yarrow ointment. [Taking up a yarrow.]

HADDA PADDA. Can that be done?

HERBORIST. Oh, yes, with finely cut yarrow, boiled in fresh new butter.
[_Puts the plant aside, picks up a dandelion._]

HADDA PADDA. What do you use the dandelion for?

HERBORIST. If the young lady had warts on her hands, I would rub them
with the milk of the dandelion, and the warts would vanish. [_Takes up a
new plant._]

HADDA PADDA. What do you call this flower?

HERBORIST. Doesn't she know the sun-dew? It is a cure for freckles.

HADDA PADDA [_taking the flower_]. Ah! I know this.--You cruel pretty
little flower! With your beauty you lure the insects to you. Then you
close on th