A conversation

Pelléas. Don’t be frightened of my shears. I noticed that you tremble in the wind and your crossed limbs have rubbed you raw. You’ve had a bit of dieback, maybe from overwatering. You’ll feel better with more air and sunlight. I know what I’m doing. This won’t hurt at all. Mélisande. I would give my life for a man who knows me. I know I am nothing without your strength. Pelléas. You are as beautiful now as flowers that die in the spring; soon hummingbirds will be nesting in your hair. Mélisande. Entwine your arms in mine; I am yours. Pelléas. And you are mine, my all, my sunlight and my shade. True beauty lies within you, not in me or in my tools. My heart leaps ahead to lead my hands like a spring that bubbles from a pile of rocks. Mélisande. I’m refreshed in you; you are my sky and my earth. All other entanglements are nothing to me. Pelléas. I remove your entanglements with my shears. You will have only your future to die for. Mélisande. You are right; it doesn’t hurt at all.