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Well didst thou know it, well didst thou love the Rose, since thy nurse, carrying thee, an infant, to the holy font, let fall on thee the sacred water brimmed with floating blossoms of the Rose! Mignonne, allons voir si la Rose, Qui ce matin avoit desclose Sa robe de pourpre au soleil, A point perdu ceste vespree Les plis de sa robe pourpree, Et son teint au votre pareil. And again,
'Mignonne allons voir si la rose Qui ce matin avoit desclose Sa robe de pourpre au soleil A point perdu ceste vespree I as plis de sa robe pourpree Et son teint au votre pareil . . . She discerned in Isabel that quality of beauty, noble, spirited, and yet wistful, which requires a most expensive setting of simplicity. And that was why Isabel opened her coat.
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