ay. He loves the moon,
The wind in the cypress trees, his mother's portrait
At seventeen, himself, his future children--
He loves her well enough. But had she blue eyes
And yellow hair, and were afraid of snakes,
He yet might love her more.

OCT. You think so, Guido?
I am content to learn you of that mind.
There had occurred to me--some time ago,
In fact--a similar fancy. And already
My daughter is well on her way home.

[Exeunt Guido and Octavia.]

[Music, Enter Beatrice and Fidelio. Fidelio strums his lute
softly throughout the next conversation, up to the words
"and cease to mock me."]

BEA. Fidelio,
Were you ever in love?

FID. I was never out of it.

BEA. But truly?

FID. Well. I was only out of it
What time it takes a man to right himself
And once again lose balance. Ah, indeed,
'Tis good to be in love, I have often noticed,
The moment I fall out of love, that moment
I catch a cold.

BEA. Are you in love, then, now?

FID. Ay, to be sure.

BEA. Oh! Oh! With whom, Fidelio?
Tell me with whom!

FID. Why, marry, with yourself,--
That are the nearest to me,--and by the same troth,
The farthest away.

BEA. Go to, Fidelio!
I am in earnest, and you trifle with me
As if I were a child.

FID. Are you not a child, then?

BEA. Not any more.

FID, How so?

BEA. I am in love.

FID. Oh--oh--oh, misery, misery, misery, misery!

BEA. Why do you say that?

FID. Say what?

BEA. "Misery, misery."

FID. It is a song.

BEA. A song?

FID. Ay, 'tis a love-song.
Oh, misery, misery, misery, misery, oh!

BEA. Nay, sweet Fidelio, be not so unkind!
I tell you, for the first time in my life
I am in love! Do you be mannerly now,
And cease to mock me,

FID. What would you have me do?

BEA. I would have you shake your head, and pat my shoulder,
And smile and say, "Godspeed."

FID. [Doing so very tenderly.] Godspeed.

BEA. [Bursting into tears.] I do not know if I am happy or sad.
But I am greatly moved. I would Bianca
Were here. I never lacked her near so much
As tonight I do, although I lack her always.
She is a long time gone.--If I tell you something,
Will you promise not to tell.

FID. Nay, I'll not promise, But I'll not tell.

BEA. Fidelio, I do love so
The King from Lagoverde! I do so love him!

FID. Godspeed, Godspeed.

BEA. Ay, it is pas