ACT IV.
Scene.—The same as Act III, six years later. It has a more deserted appearance. Some smoke escapes the kiln. The steps of the barricade are broken down, leaving a narrow passage, through which enter Charles in hunting attire and Albert, whose court finery is somewhat dishevelled.
Charles. Why, Albert, see, there's smoke, haste thee! Inquire! Albert. [Looks into the hut.] No sign of life within the hut, my Lord.
Nor little else. An emptiness that weighs
Like what's inside my belt. Will you not blow
Your horn, my Lord, that baskets may be brought. Charles. My courtiers think of food, of clothes; thou'rt dressed
As for a festival and so the rest.
Indeed 'twould shock our simple ancestors
Could they but see the follies prevalent
To-day, the love of luxury, the splurge,
The flaunt of silk and jewels, the rich-piled velvets,
The pranking plumes, the strut and swagger. Yet
Methinks, on closer view, thy feathers have
A languid droop, thy coat has lost its vain
Bravado, thy ribboned finery agrees
But ill with huntsman's sport. Albert. My Lord, if I
Am privileged to speak, we dressed prepared
For Council work; but you withdrew, changed plans,
Made call for dogs and horses, spears and bows;
Gave us no time to change. Charles. Do I want fops
For Councillors? Grave work needs grave attire.
Ye came arrayed for dance and spectacle
So I was forced to holiday. The chase
Has made some spectacles, I trow. [Laughing.] Nay stay
Thy sulks, seek now thy friends, beg them retain
This morning's lesson; hark! and come not back
Until my horn wakes echoes. Albert. [Turns to go, then stops.] But is it wise
To leave you here alone, my Lord; this place
Is ill reputed. Charles. See that rustic cross,
Some pious pilgrim's work. Six years ago
'Twas noticed first; since then long winters have
Unloaded snow and whipped the biting blast,
Yet there it stands assuringly. How oft,
When unsought vigils have distressed, my mind
Has flown to this same spot, has tried to pierce
Its mystery, has lingered round those branchlets,
Gleaned a strange relief; and now again
Smoke floats above the charcoal kiln. All haste,
Count Albert, comb the woods, make nearby search,
Discover him who caused that smoke, who stirs
A smouldering hope; but still my heart! the flame
May yet die down as has so oft occurred.
Haste, haste Count Albert, I would know the worst
Or best.
[Albert starts to go. Enter Ernst who collides with him.]
[A rustling is heard 'mid the trees.]
[Exuent Albert and Ernst.]
[He falls asleep. The scene grows perfectly dark. After
a time the twinkling light of candles gradually discloses
three mushroom-shaped tables, on which the candles stand
among golden goblets and dishes. Around each table sits
a group of three Wish-maidens, aethereally dressed, with
long flowing locks.]
Sisters, we quaff to the past,
When forests were thick and daylight dim.
Sisters, we quaff to the past.
Once sacred this grove, here heard Woden's hymn.
Sisters, we quaff to the past.
The past! the past! [They drink deeply.]
Wind-spirits are we, wild women called,
Substance of water and air,
Of fabric whence breathed the ancient scald
Verses that seize and ensnare.
Through tempests we ride, upheaval's din,
Light as a figment of dreams,
And sometimes we flash a visioned sin,
Sometimes a virtue that gleams.
The bubbles of thought we puff at night
Enter the soul that is cursed,
Awaking a shameless appetite,
Perfidy, shuffling, war-thirst.
The bubbles of thought we throw from light
Enter the soul that is blessed,
Like dust of the rainbow, pearled and bright,
Singing of hope and of quest.
But Sisters the future stores for us
Obloquy, exile, and wrong;
Already the signs grow ominous,
Seldom man hearkens to song.
So spill from our cups—earth honouring,
Earth that will triumph one day;
Let earth play the tune round faery ring,
Twanging the strings we obey.
[Where the wine is spilt on the ground dwarfs spring up,
each clad in green and bearing a golden harp.]
Clear tables away, come dwarfs, come elves
Harp for us, harp long and loud!
Let fingers that grasp the golden helves
Work strings with music endowed.
[The tables are pushed back. In front sit the dwarfs
who first play slow dance music, gradually quickening the
time. The Wish-maidens dance in three groups. From a
slow gliding step they arrive at a dizzy whirl. Then
suddenly they stop, break up their groups and sing
while making steps and motions to imitate weaving.]
We dance to the past while weaving tales,
Rosy with mist of the dawn,
Astir with the mood of wilful gales,
Lightsome as leap of a fawn.
We dance to the present, weaving fears.
Daylight strews shadows behind;
The dazzle of noon dissolves in tears,
Man is the sport of the wind.
We dance to the future, weaving death,
Purpled with evening sky;
A knowledge has come with failing breath,
The courts of Valhalla on high.
So round and around we faster spin,
Straightening the tangles of time;
We dance to the earth, find spirit within,
Hark! to the music sublime.
[They stand prettily poised listening, each with the right
forefinger raised. The scene grows quite dark again
while delightful strains of heavenly music are heard.
After a time they die away. The scene lightens, Charles is
discovered still sleeping. All trace of Wish-maidens, tables
and dwarfs have disappeared unless it be David, a little
green-clad figure, who enters from the copse, losing his
hat on a thornbush. He looks round wonderingly, then
comes and examines Charles.]
[Enter Ernst. He sees David and stands transfixed.]
Pass the loving cup,
Kling, klang, klung.
Let us brightly sup,
Ting, tang, tung.
What's disturbed by light,
Ting, tang, tung.
Let us mend at night,
Kling, klang, klung.
[As Charles disappears, following David,
enter Albert.]
[Enter Audulf, Herbert and other courtiers scrambling
over the barricade. Their rich attire, like Albert's,
has suffered somewhat from the chase.]
[Exit Audulf. The rest kneel round the cross.]