Riccio: What is the love you look for?
Mary: Rest from tumult. Escape. You could not know.
Riccio: No. But I pity you.
Mary: I should reprove you for that. But it's a good venture, the best you could make. It might trouble you. But it will pass. You will think of yourself only to console; that will be your safety.
Riccio: You will not let them dismiss me? I am happy here.
Mary: It is right that you should be happy. You shall stay, never fear.
Riccio: To serve you always. I can give light and air a little, that at least. I should have been king in this place.
Mary (giving him her hand to kiss): Now you may sing to me.
Riccio (singing):
The snows come, and frosty pools
Forbid the birds to sing.
The pilgrim of the wilderness
Complains the tardy spring.
