Page 30 of What Dreams May Come

When I thought of the scene in the fountain courtyard, of Prince Escalus and his abrupt display of fury and desire, I could only be glad that the sun hadn’t risen enough to pierce the shadows beneath the gallery, for I blushed hard enough tobreak a sweat.

Mamma must have perceived too much in my expression, for she used her shrewd parent voice to say, “Someday, my Rosaline, you’ll advise me of the detailsof this night.”

“Yes, Mamma.” I bowed my head in obedience and possibly exhaustion. “Now, with your permission, I would seek the sleep ofthe righteous.”

“Are you? Righteous?”

“Mostly. Probably the telling of the night should wait until after I’m bound to the prince in holy matrimony.” I started toward the stairs, then I thought of the details and paused with one foot on the first tread. “Or even better, after the birth of our eighth child.” I meaningfully viewedher baby bump.

“Will I laugh then?” She seemedto be in doubt.

Justifiably. “Maybe our tenth child.” I climbed the stairs and took my mother’s hand and kissed it fondly.

She rested her hand on my head. “This marriage is not the fate I ever imagined for you, my darling Rosie.” She tilted my chin toward her. “You chooseyour own path.”

“Always I’ve chosen my own path. No one cared or paid particular attention. I’m not maligning you, Mamma, but you have other children and I am, as we know, quite competent and a sturdy plant that needs little support.”

Mamma nodded in agreement. “You were ever frighteningly competent.”

“On the day I met Lysander, my flat, stable world shivered and I staggered. Yet I kept my feet until last night, when the earth quaked and rolled and all I knew was overturned and I...am not the same.” My eyes drooped and I yawned. “If I may, I’ll sleep now. I don’t know what dreams may come. Perhaps a vision of a heady future.”Wait. I frowned.That sounded familiar.

“Go to bed, Rosie. Things will look better after you’ve slept.” Mamma kissed me and returned to the bedroom she shared with Papà.

I returned to my bedroom (at last!) where Nurse still snored with magnificent warbling tones. My parents’ passion had subsided, at least for as long as it would take Mamma to give Papà the Rosie report. The neighbors’ raucous party had fallen silent. Our old dog did wake and pad over to greet me, enveloping me in a cloud of welcome-home gaseous emissions that convinced me to send him to sleep with my little brother Cesario. That little boy reveled in a rancid fart, hisown or others.

I petted the dog, put him out of the room, and stripped out of my boy clothes. With my knife, I cut them into rags, removing temptation from any other little sister who sought adventure. I donned a clean nightgown and wearily sank down on the bed. I winced when my bottom hit the mattress; amazing how three spanks from a firm hand could so promptly remind me of the prince’s reprimand.

I suppose that washis intention.

I pulled the pillow over my eyes to close out the brightening rays of the sun, closed my eyes and drifted to sleep...then promptly came awake for asingle thought.

A vision ofa heady future?

That was Prince Escalus’s line. By the glove of God, Prince Escalus had burrowed into my brain. I groaned like a child with a bellyache. I was quoting him! What next? Would I write a sonnet with which to woo him?

Reality caught me. At the idea, I released a horse laugh and fellasleep at last.