ROSES TWO

Auriol Julie, I have a secret for your ear. Julie What have you, little cousin, with such things As secrets? Auriol Tut, a girl has many thoughts She knows are better kept.... Julie Yet longs to tell. Auriol Yes, pretty secrets have a double joy, The keeping and the breaking; and I think They’re like old Saxe, more valued when they’re broken. Julie (eagerly) Yes, darling, I agree, so.... Auriol It is hard, Awfully hard to break. The story runs Something like this: the giver was a man.... Julie Giver of what? Auriol Ah! do not interrupt; For if, at once, I told you what he gave Where would the story be. We’ll call him he— The abstract always has a secret charm— The other person ... she, you see, was I.... That is.... Julie Do not explain. Auriol It might mislead. Julie I like historians with imagination, And Truth when she has draped her nakedness. Auriol It was last evening ... you remember, dear, How fine it was last evening, how the stars.... Julie Oh! never mind the stars. Auriol Poor little things! And yet they’re very troublesome, I grant, Prying upon this world of ours, at night, Just when good people want to say their prayers, Or gather dewy roses in the garden. Julie Sweet, are not afraid to go alone Rose-gathering, when the fairies are abroad? Auriol I did not say I was alone. Julie So he...? Auriol Was there. (Producing a rose which she has held concealed.) And see, Julie, the lovely rose He gave me; but I cannot quite remember His words. Ah! yes, he said the rose was love’s Dear symbol, and was made to be a gift From those who love to those they love, that I Was Beauty.... Do you catch his meaning, dear? Julie I think the gentleman was quite explicit. Auriol One cannot be too careful in such matters. Julie Especially with a stranger ... and a man. Auriol Lothario is not a stranger. Julie Ah! Lothario indeed. So it was he? Auriol Julie, you should say ‘Mr.,’ if you please. Julie Traitors their titles forfeit. Auriol He is not A traitor. See how fair his rose has kept: And symbols die, they say, when vows are broken. Julie (taking a faded rose from her bosom) True, this poor rose he gave me, three days since, Is withered. Auriol Are you sure he gave it you? (Sadly) These roses look like sisters. Julie Merely cousins. Yes, he gave it to me. (Sighs.) Three days is all A man’s love and a rose’s life can last. Auriol But he swore that I was his only love. Julie That’s what they always say. Auriol How do you know? Julie My ... brother told me so. Auriol It is too bad.... He stole a kiss. Julie That’s what they always do. Auriol How do you know? Julie My brother told me so. Auriol I think that men are knaves. Julie May be they are; Yet, Auriol, ’tis not perhaps their fault, For women keep the goodness to themselves. Come, we must not waste time on faded flowers, Nor lose our tempers on a faded heart. We’ll give these rosy petals to the wind, (They throw the flowers away) Lest it should take our thoughts and toy with them. When comes Lothario, with honeyed words, To claim his pledge of you or me, we’ll send The swain to parley with the mocking wind, Tell him that since he makes a sport of love, ’Tis wrong to run two hares at once. Now, sweet, Let’s go and listen to the piping birds And hear their music, being tired of words.