_Mous._ Had I your power To make myself invisible at will, I should take up my quarters in the castle Where all the ladies dwell! _Flor._ I’m sure you would, Unfortunately I’m a gentleman, And so that course is closed to me-- _Mous._ Of course! I did but jest--I beg your pardon, sir. (_Aside._) If I could get that veil for one short hour-- Eh, but I’ve drugs to lull a man to sleep! If I can tempt this squeamish popinjay To trust himself to me, the thing is done! (_Aloud_). I’ve a poor cottage--it is close at hand, Though humble, it is clean and weather-tight: It will afford you shelter. Then for food I’ve some dried fish and eggs and oaten bread Quite at your service. _Flor._ Good. _Mous._ (_quickly_). But hide yourself, Some one approaches! [_FLORIAN covers his head with veil as VAVIR enters with flowers._ _Flor._ (_aside to MOUSTA_). Who is this fair maid? _Mous._ (_aside_). Lady Vavir. She always comes at eve To bid “good night” to this old sun-dial! Keep your ears open, and I’ll warrant you Yours eyes will open too! (_Aloud._) Lady Vavir, I bid you fair good night. _Vav._ Good night to you. [_Exit MOUS._ _Flor._ In truth a fair young girl! _Vav._ Dear sun-dial, Dost know what day this is? _Flor._ (_aside_). He ought to know, It comes within the radius of his calling! _Vav._ A year to-day, and we two were betrothed-- One happy, happy year! _Flor._ (_aside_). Betrothed, i’ faith! They’re lovers, then! _Vav._ I must devise some gift To mark this happy day. What shall it be? I’ll weave a bower of rose and eglantine To place above thy head at eventide, When the full moon’s abroad. No foolish moon Shall cast false shadows on thy sleeping face, Or make thee mutter incoherent tales Of hours long since gone by or yet to come. No madcap moon shall mar thy nightly rest, Or in the mischief of half-witted glee Awake thy sleeping hours before their time. _Flor._ (_aside_). He doesn’t answer--the insensate dolt!-- And yet such words are warm enough to rouse A tombstone into life! _Vav._ I’ve brought thee flowers To deck thy stem. They live their little life, And then they die; but others follow them-- And thou shalt have thy garland day by day While I am here to weave it for thee? _Flor._ (_aside_). Well, This is the oddest wooing! On my word, A thousand pities that the lady’s love Should be lopsided! Come, arouse thee, dial-- Be eloquent with thanks! I’ve half a mind To thank her for thee, in the interests Of all true horologes!