Hero stepped forward, caught hold of her roughly, and spoke harshly. "You shall not clean floors," he said, "and I will not court the Princess." Then suddenly he spoke tenderly, "Nuova, I love you. Saggia says I can't; all of them say I can't; you say I can't. Well, I do. That is all. That is the answer. I have never loved a Princess and I do love you; I have loved you from the moment I saw you." He spoke more impetuously. "I didn't know what it was at first; now I do. I found out when I started to fly after Principessa. I can fly faster than any other drone; yet every one was beating me. I can fly higher than any other bee; but I couldn't rise at all. Why? Because of _you_, Nuova; because I loved _you_, Nuova, and could not love Principessa. And they say that you cannot love me. Saggia says so, does she?--and all of them say so, do they?--and you say so, do you? Well, they are all mistaken. Just as they are all mistaken about me. I can love _you_, because I _do_. You can love me, because you are going to. You were not an Amazon, yet you fought. You are not a Princess, but you are going to love. I can teach you; I _will_ teach you." Nuova was almost carried away by Hero's speech--and her own inclinations. But she still fought blindly and feebly against what she wanted most. "No, no," she stammered; "I must work; I must go; I am only a worker bee; I _cannot_ love; it is all fixed; it has been that way for a long time; _I_ know; Saggia knows; _Beffa_--" She stopped short, remembering some of Beffa's cryptic words. Just then Beffa's voice was heard. He was coming toward them hopping and singing. CHAPTER XII _The Happy Ending_ Beffa had not been able to hold the foragers any longer away from that part of the garden where Nuova and Hero were. The flowers here were more abundant and sweeter with honey, and the bees soon forgot their fright of the toad they had not seen--and that Beffa had not, either. Hero and Nuova were still concealed by the bush, behind which they stood, from the returning bees, but it was only a matter of a short time before they would certainly be seen. Beffa, therefore, came hopping toward them and singing. He could at least warn them of the approach of the others. So he sang loudly: "Ah, well, who knows? Ah, well, who knows? The old world for the old bee; The new world for the new; For who may know the real truth? The untrue may be true. Ah, well, who knows? Ah, well, who knows?" Hero turned triumphantly to Nuova. "Yes, yes, you hear?" he said. "Beffa knows. Say it; say it. Beffa knows: not Saggia; not the others; but Beffa. They are all blind. They only see what has been, but Beffa sees what may be. And you see it, Nuova, and I see it. You are a new bee, Nuova, and so is Beffa, and so am I. And we shall do new things; live a new life. Ah, Nuova, my little Nuova! I love you, and you love me. My little Nuova!"