_Vav._ Oh, Melusine, I have a secret. (_Aside to dial._) May I tell it? _Flor._ (_whispering_). Yes. _Mel._ A secret? _Vav._ Ay, a wondrous secret, too! My sun-dial hath ears to hear withal-- And eyes to see withal--and a sweet voice, A gentle, tender voice to woo withal! _Mel._ Oh, marvellous! Oh, fortunate Vavir! To woo--and to be woo’d--and, being woo’d, To keep her vow intact! I’d give the world If my loved mirror were endowed with speech! _Flor._ Have then thy wish, fair lady! _Mel._ Why, who spake? _Vav._ Thy mirror spake! _Mel._ Oh, day of wonderment! Who gave thee speech? Art thou enchanted too? _Flor._ Ay, that in truth I am, as all must be On whom those eyes are turned so lovingly! _Mel._ A very polished mirror! _Flor._ As for that, We mirrors are as other gallants are-- Teeming with compliment to fair young maids-- But apt to be extremely curt and rude With old and wrinkled faces. On the whole We are good gallants as good gallants go! _Mel._ And dost thou love me? _Flor._ Love thee, gentle maid? Have I not laughed with thee, and wept with thee, And ever framed my face in sympathy With all the changes of thy varying moods? Hast thou e’er cast thine eyes upon my face And found me light of heart when thou wast sad? Or sad when thou wast light of heart? _Mel._ No! no! Most wonderful! _Flor._ And yet not wonderful! I am but one of many. This fair isle Teems with poor prisoned souls! There’s not a tree-- There’s not a rock, a brook, a shrub, a stone, But holds some captive spirit who awaits The unsought love that is to set him free! _Mel._ (_to VAVIR_). We’ll keep this secret safely to ourselves. If it should get abroad, this little isle Will barely hold the maidens who will come, Prepared to pass the spring-time of their lives In setting free these captives! Come, Vavir, And we will warn our sisters. _Vav._ Fare thee well, Beloved dial: I go to dream of thee, Dream thou of me! God send thee Sun. Good night! [_Exeunt VAVIR and MELUSINE._ _Flor._ Two maids, at once bewitching--and bewitched! One loves a mirror--well, that’s not so strange, Though she’ll grow angry with it ten years hence! The other loves a dial--a cold stern fact That surely marks the deadly flight of time! Wonders will never cease! let none despair-- Old Chronos, enemy of womankind, Has found a pretty sweetheart, after all! _Enter LADY HILDA, singing and playing on mandolin._