(ELSIE comes in with flowers.)

Elsie. Here are flowers for you,
But they are not all for you. 
Some of them are for the Virgin
And for Saint Cecilia.

Prince Henry. As thou standest there,
Thou seemest to me like the angel
That brought the immortal roses
To Saint Cecilia’s bridal chamber.

  Elsie. But these will fade.

Prince Henry. Themselves will fade,
But not their memory,
And memory has the power
To re-create them from the dust. 
They remind me, too,
Of martyred Dorothea,
Who from celestial gardens sent
Flowers as her witnesses
To him who scoffed and doubted.

Elsie. Do you know the story Of Christ and the Sultan’s daughter?  That is the prettiest legend of them all.

Prince Henry. Then tell it to me. 
But first come hither. 
Lay the flowers down beside me. 
And put both thy hands in mine. 
Now tell me the story.

Elsie. Early in the morning
The Sultan’s daughter
Walked in her father’s garden,
Gathering the bright flowers,
All full of dew.

Prince Henry. Just as thou hast been doing This morning, dearest Elsie.

Elsie. And as she gathered them,
She wondered more and more
Who was the Master of the Flowers,
And made them grow
Out of the cold, dark earth. 
“In my heart,” she said,
“I love him; and for him
Would leave my father’s palace,
To labor in his garden.”

Prince Henry. Dear, innocent child! 
How sweetly thou recallest
The long-forgotten legend,
That in my early childhood
My mother told me! 
Upon my brain
It reappears once more,
As a birth-mark on the forehead
When a hand suddenly
Is laid upon it, and removed!

Elsie. And at midnight,
As she lay upon her bed,
She heard a voice
Call to her from the garden,
And, looking forth from her window,
She saw a beautiful youth
Standing among the flowers. 
It was the Lord Jesus;
And she went down to him,
And opened the door for him;
And he said to her, “O maiden! 
Thou hast thought of me with love,
And for thy sake
Out of my Father’s kingdom
Have I come hither: 
I am the Master of the Flowers. 
My garden is in Paradise,
And if thou wilt go with me,
Thy bridal garland
Shall be of bright red flowers.” 
And then he took from his finger
A golden ring,
And asked the Sultan’s daughter
If she would be his bride. 
And when she answered him with love,
His wounds began to bleed,
And she said to him,
“O Love! how red thy heart is,
And thy hands are full of roses,”
“For thy sake,” answered he,
“For thy sake is my heart so red,
For thee I bring these roses. 
I gathered them at the cross
Whereon I died for thee! 
Come, for my Father calls. 
Thou art my elected bride!”
And the Sultan’s daughter
Followed him to his Father’s garden.