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n want it. JENNY I've found a very good one at a pinch. There's a smooth silver pool, down in the stream, Where you can see your face most beautiful. MARIAN So that's how Jenny spends her lonely hours, A sad female Narcissus, while poor Much Dwines to an Echo! JENNY I don't like those gods. I never cared for them. But, as for Much, Much is the best of all the merry men. And, mistress, O, he speaks so beautifully, It _might_ be just an Echo from blue hills Far, far away! You see he's quite a scholar: Much, more an' most (That's what he calls the three Greasy caparisons--much, more an' most)! You see they thought that being so very small They could not make him grow to be a man, They'd make a scholar of him instead. The Friar Taught him his letters. He can write his name, And mine, and yours, just like a missal book, In lovely colours; and he always draws The first big letter of JENNY like a tree With naked Cupids hiding in the branches. Mistress, I don't believe you hear one word I ever speak to you! Your eyes are always That far and far away. MARIAN I'm listening, Jenny! JENNY Well, when he draws the first big M of yours, He makes it like a bridge from earth to heaven, With white-winged angels passing up and down; And, underneath the bridge, in a black stream, He puts the drowning face of the bad Prince Holding his wicked hands out, while a devil Stands on the bank and with a pointed stake Keeps him from landing-- Ah, what's that? What's that? MARIAN O Jenny, how you startled me! JENNY I thought I saw that same face peering thro' the ferns Yonder--there--see, they are shaking still. [_She screams._] Ah! Ah! [_PRINCE JOHN and another man appear advancing across the glade._] JOHN So here's my dainty tigress in her den, And--Warman--there's a pretty scrap for you Beside her. Now, sweet mistress, will you deign To come with me, to change these cheerless woods For something queenlier? If I be not mistaken, You have had time to tire of that dark cave. Was I not right, now? Surely you can see Those tress
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