That on a sudden, when she least had hope, It fell down of its own accord before Her feet; that her first movement was to stoop And pick it up, and bite it to the core; That just as her young lip began to ope[hb] Upon the golden fruit the vision bore, A bee flew out, and stung her to the heart, And so--she woke with a great scream and start. LXXVIII. All this she told with some confusion and Dismay, the usual consequence of dreams Of the unpleasant kind, with none at hand To expound their vain and visionary gleams. I've known some odd ones which seemed really planned Prophetically, or that which one deems A "strange coincidence," to use a phrase By which such things are settled now-a-days.[355] LXXIX. The damsels, who had thoughts of some great harm, Began, as is the consequence of fear, To scold a little at the false alarm That broke for nothing on their sleeping ear. The matron, too, was wroth to leave her warm Bed for the dream she had been obliged to hear, And chafed at poor Dudù, who only sighed, And said, that she was sorry she had cried. LXXX. "I've heard of stories of a cock and bull; But visions of an apple and a bee, To take us from our natural rest, and pull The whole Oda from their beds at half-past three, Would make us think the moon is at its full. You surely are unwell, child! we must see, To-morrow, what his Highness's physician Will say to this hysteric of a vision. LXXXI. "And poor Juanna, too, the child's first night Within these walls, to be broke in upon With such a clamour--I had thought it right That the young stranger should not lie alone, And, as the quietest of all, she might With you, Dudù, a good night's rest have known: But now I must transfer her to the charge Of Lolah--though her couch is not so large." LXXXII. Lolah's eyes sparkled at the proposition; But poor Dudù, with large drops in her own, Resulting from the scolding or the vision, Implored that present pardon might be shown For this first fault, and that on no condition (She added in a soft and piteous tone) Juanna should be taken from her, and Her future dreams should be all kept in hand. LXXXIII. She promised never more to have a dream, At least to dream so loudly as just now; She wondered at herself how she could scream-- 'T was foolish, nervous, as she must allow, A fond hallucination, and a theme For laughter--but she felt her spirits low, And begged they would excuse her; she'd get over This weakness in a few hours, and recover. LXXXIV.