RIBERA.
Truly, a gorgeous show!
Pink, yellow, crimson, white which is the fairest?
Those with the deepest blush should best become you
Nay, they accord not with your hair s red gold;
The white ones suit you best pale, innocent,
So flowers too can lie ! Is not that strange?
[MARIA looks at him in mingled wonder and affright.
He roughly brushes aside all the flowers upon the
floors, then picks one up and carefully plucks it to pieces.
I think not highly of your flowers, girl;
I have plucked this leaf by leaf; it has no heart.
See there ! [He laughs contemptuously.
MARIA.
What have I done ? Alas ! what mean you?
Have you then lost your reason?
RIBERA.
Nay, but found it.
I, who was dull of wit, am keen at last.
" Don John is comely," and " Don John is kind ;"
" A wonderful musician is Don John,"
" A princely artist " and then, meek of mien,
You enter in his presence, modest, simple.
And who beneath that kitten grace had spied
