Scene 1. Discovered seated
on a stone bench in the sunshine, Beatrice, clad in a loose gown,
looking very ill. Fidelio sings off stage.]

FID. [Singing.]
"Let the little birds sing,
Let the little lambs play.
Spring is here, and so 'tis spring,--
But not in the old way.

I recall a place
Where a plum-tree grew,--
There you lifted up your face
And blossoms covered you.
If the little birds sing,
And the little lambs play,

Spring is here, and so 'tis spring,--
But not in the old way."

BEA. It is a pretty song. There be some things
That even the tortured heart's profoundest anguish
Cannot bring down from their high place. Music
Is one of them. [Enter Grazia carrying a bowl.]

GRA. Now, will you drink this broth,
Or will you not? I swear upon my shroud--
And 'tis a solemn oath--I never nursed
So vaporous a patient!--Come, my bird!

BEA. [Taking the bowl, then setting it down.] Nay, Nurse, I cannot.

GRA. Oh, alackaday!
What shall I do with you? Come now, and drink me
The pretty broth, my dear!

BEA. I will drink it later.
'Tis too hot.

GRA. Ay, and in a moment 'twill be
Too cold! And you'll not drink it! I could cry!

[Exit Grazia.]
[Enter Fidelio.]

BEA. Fidelio, as you love me, do you drink this,
And quickly, man!

FID. [With grief.] Oh, my dear mistress!

BEA. Drink!

FID. [Sadly, drinking.] I best would leave a little, else she'll know
'Twas never you.

BEA. Ay, so you would. I' faith,
It is a knave's trick, but I cannot touch it.
Go now, Fidelio, ere she come again.

[Exit Fidelio.]
[Enter Bianca.]

BIA. [Softly.] Rose-Red.

[Beatrice looks up and listens, thinking it a dream.]

BIA. Rose-Red, dear sister!

BEA. [Bowing her head and weeping.] Oh, my heart!

BIA. [Coming towards her.] Why do you weep?

BEA. [Looking up startled and seeing her, jumping to her feet.]
Oh, no! Oh, God above!
Go back! Go back!

BIA. [Amazed, quietly.] Beatrice, are you mad?
'Tis I, Bianca.

BEA. [More quietly.] Ay, I know 'tis you.
And you must go away.

BIA. [Breaking down.] You are mad, my dear!

BEA. I would I were. For madmen have their moments
Of light into the brain.--Hear me. Bianca,
You must return at once to Lagoverde,
And come to me no more, and think of me
No more.

BIA. Ay. I will go. But ere I go
Tell me you do not love