Rosaleen 3/11 - Act 1 scenes 3&4 - Bloom, little rose and widow's aria

Mother, father, I mean only to honor you as parents, of course. Oh, but you have, sweet girl! Marrying such a man! Is there nothing a girl can do to please you except marry rich? And marry rich you have. You'll be nothing short of a princess from now on. Does that please you? It's hardly your riches I married you for. Good God, what a mouth on her! Your impertinence pleases me. As it should, my dear. You're a tolerant man, Dalton, dear. Bless you for it. I hardly know how to take such flattery. Tisn't flattery, dear boy. Some-- many men, in fact-- prefer a silly wife. You think I'd prize a silly girl over my darling little Rose? Oh yes, should I be sillier, darling? Should I simper and smile and make flattering jokes? No, no, you will do no such thing. If you do, I will divorce you this minute. Heavens, Rosaleen, don't anger your husband. You've hardly been married an hour! Oh, he's not angry, are you, dear? Angry with my Rosaleen? Who could be angry with such an innocent little Rose? There comes a time near six, when light of morning breaks Visions of terror fly away. This little Rose, the sweetest smelling and most rare blooms in love. Bloom, little Rose Love and bloom till nightfall's shade. She takes me to her breast, so warm and innocent I must weep unto her. This little Rose, my dearest hope and truest love, brings me light. Bloom, little Rose, Love and bloom 'till springtime fades. I have knocked so many times on the door to an empty room I have cried out to my God but never heard any reply. But you... my Venus... This little Rose, my dearest hope and truest love, brings me light. Bloom, little Rose Love and bloom 'till springtime fades. - [Dalton] Rosaleen... - [Cale] Rosaleen... Shameful, peasant wedding. Shameful! I beg your pardon? The dresses on these girls! Hardly any lace! My dear boy among such rabble! Don't you agree, sir? Then you are-- Aunt Crawford? It is I, Cale! Dear me! I never would have recognized you if you hadn't said so. The last time I saw you, you hardly reached my waist. It's been many years. And here you are! How pleased you must be to share Dalton's friendship. He is, I daresay, of a different sphere than perhaps you are accustomed. I do not see that in his renewed friendship to me that he has quitted that sphere. Though it pleased my Uncle Crawford that I should not lay claim to his inheritance, Dalton is still my brother. Don't be bitter, my boy. Dalton was the oldest. It was only natural that we should adopt him instead of you after your poor mother died. I care not. I was raised by a good woman. A poor woman, though. That is unfortunate. Excuse me, ma'am. Come come! I did not mean to offend. You must forgive the ramblings of an old woman. Here, shake my hand and let us be friends. Even if you disapprove of the lace upon the dresses, surely you do not disapprove of his choice in a mate. Aye, she is a pretty girl. Clever, too, from what Dalton tells me. Yes, she is often spoken of for her beauty and wit. And what of you? Any of these pretty girls catch your discerning eye? Oh, no-- I-- You are afflicted with the worst symptoms of love! Which one is it, eh? Perhaps that one over there? She's a slender, sly little thing. No, madam, I assure you. Well, I'll not trouble you with it. I can only hope my boy will be happy. With such a lady as Miss Rosaleen, I cannot see how he could not. And his lady, too, has likewise entered a state of perfect happiness. Perfect happiness! I beg your pardon? Dalton's a dear boy. Dear to me as a son. But he's strange, too much like his mother. I was a bride of sixteen, plain as a cloud in the sky All hail my sister, "the queen", for she was beautiful, not I! She wed a man from the sea with a weather-beaten face She dreamed of how happy they'd be Then he fled without a trace. She went mad with grief, she ripped out all her hair, nearly killed her boys, but didn't stop there. We found her hung from a tree rather, Dalton found her there. I took the poor boy with me and my husband made him our heir, he made him our heir. It's always been my belief this pierced him something rare the poor boy has a soul, it's true, but in anger loses control-- he's unlike me or you.