[_The_ QUEEN _sighs._
You should not sigh, great lady.
QUEEN: Why should I not sigh, Oozizi?
OOZIZI: Great lady, because such things as sighs pertain only to love.
QUEEN: Love is a joy, Oozizi; love is a glow. Love makes them dance so
lightly along rays of the sunlight. It is made of sunlight and gladness.
It is like flowers in twilight. How should they sigh?
OOZIZI: Lady! Great lady! Say not such things of love!
QUEEN: Say not such things, Oozizi? Are they not true?
OOZIZI: True? Yes, great lady, true. But love is a toy of the humble;
love is a common thing that the lowly use; love is ... Great lady, had
any overheard you speaking then they might have thought, they might
have madly dreamed ...
QUEEN: Dreamed what, Oozizi?
OOZIZI: Incredible things.
QUEEN (_meditatively_): I must not love, Oozizi.
OOZIZI: Lady! The common people love.
[_She points to door._
Lady, the green fields going from here to the blueness, and bending
towards it, and going wandering on, and the rivers they meet and the
woods that shade the rivers, all own you for their sovereign. Lady, a
million lime-trees mellow your realm. The golden hoards are yours. Yours
are the deep fields and the iris marshes. Yours are the roads of
wandering and all ways home.
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