n want it.
JENNY
I've found a very good one at a pinch.
There's a smooth silver pool, down in the stream,
Where you can see your face most beautiful.
MARIAN
So that's how Jenny spends her lonely hours,
A sad female Narcissus, while poor Much
Dwines to an Echo!
JENNY
I don't like those gods.
I never cared for them. But, as for Much,
Much is the best of all the merry men.
And, mistress, O, he speaks so beautifully,
It _might_ be just an Echo from blue hills
Far, far away! You see he's quite a scholar:
Much, more an' most (That's what he calls the three
Greasy caparisons--much, more an' most)!
You see they thought that being so very small
They could not make him grow to be a man,
They'd make a scholar of him instead. The Friar
Taught him his letters. He can write his name,
And mine, and yours, just like a missal book,
In lovely colours; and he always draws
The first big letter of JENNY like a tree
With naked Cupids hiding in the branches.
Mistress, I don't believe you hear one word
I ever speak to you! Your eyes are always
That far and far away.
MARIAN
I'm listening, Jenny!
JENNY
Well, when he draws the first big M of yours,
He makes it like a bridge from earth to heaven,
With white-winged angels passing up and down;
And, underneath the bridge, in a black stream,
He puts the drowning face of the bad Prince
Holding his wicked hands out, while a devil
Stands on the bank and with a pointed stake
Keeps him from landing--
Ah, what's that? What's that?
MARIAN
O Jenny, how you startled me!
JENNY
I thought
I saw that same face peering thro' the ferns
Yonder--there--see, they are shaking still.
[_She screams._]
Ah! Ah!
[_PRINCE JOHN and another man appear advancing across the
glade._]
JOHN
So here's my dainty tigress in her den,
And--Warman--there's a pretty scrap for you
Beside her. Now, sweet mistress, will you deign
To come with me, to change these cheerless woods
For something queenlier? If I be not mistaken,
You have had time to tire of that dark cave.
Was I not right, now? Surely you can see
Those tress
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