THE WINE HORN. The dark Clove is my fragrance!
THE FLOWERS ring eagerly, and turning up their faces, cry:
"We too, smell sweet."
But the voices of VIEW OF ITALY, FLUME OF STEAM, and THINGS
IN BOOKS cry out:
"I am Italy! Italy!"
"See me--steam in the distance!"
"O remember! remember!"
SEELCHEN. [Distracted] Oh! it is hard!
THE COW HORN. I will never desert thee.
THE WINE HORN. A hundred times I will desert you, a hundred times
come back, and kiss you.
SEELCHEN. [Whispering] Peace for my heart!
THE COW HORN. With me thou shalt lie on the warm wild thyme.
THE FLOWERS laugh happily.
THE WINE HORN. With me you shall lie on a bed of dove's feathers.
THE FLOWERS moan.
THE WINE HORN. I will give you old wine.
THE COW HORN. I will give thee new milk.
THE WINE HORN. Hear my song!
From far away comes the sound as of mandolins.
SEELCHEN. [Clasping her breast] My heart--it is leaving me!
THE COW HORN. Hear my song!
From the distance floats the piping of a Shepherd's reed.
SEELCHEN. [Curving her hand at her ears] The piping! Ah!
THE COW HORN. Stay with me, Seelchen!
THE WINE HORN. Come with me, Seelchen!
THE COW HORN. I give thee certainty!
THE WINE HORN. I give you chance!
THE COW HORN. I give thee peace.
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