QUEEN MAB lies sleepily in a mossy hollow, guarded by a quivering frond of last year's bracken. After a little yawn she discontentedly gazes at THE THRUSH who is singing continuously, whilst balancing himself on a twig of the leafless hawthorn above her.
QUEEN MAB (almost peevishly for a Queen):
Thou saucy bird, to wake me from my slumber,
The spring still tarries, and I would not wake
To live thro' cloud-spun days, thro' endless nights;
To watch the weeping rain, until I too
Would mix my tears with hers. To see the hills
Bow their nude forms beneath the lashing hail,
To hear the strong trees groan.
I will not wake.
THE THRUSH (practising trills between each line and minor arpeggios after each verse):
Queen Mab! Queen Mab!
Listen my lay!
A windflower leapt
In the hedge to-day.
One of thy dimples
Lent its mirth
To lessen the gloom
Of the snow-tired earth.
A white-faced flower's
In the hedge to-day,
Queen Mab! Queen Mab!
Listen my lay!
QUEEN MAB (impetuously):
Please, hush thy noisy song a little while.
Maybe a windflower shows her shy white face,
But I have seen anemones in snow,
Hiding their eyes (false messengers of Spring),
Justly ashamed of their own perfidy.
Therefore, sing softly.
QUEEN MAB curls herself up among her emerald cushions, closes her azure eyes, and sleeps for several days.
THE THRUSH (his voice a degree sweeter and surer):
Queen Mab! Queen Mab!
Awake! Awake!
A primrose blooms
In the woodland brake.
From thy sleepy lips
Has tumbled a smile
Which lies a-blossoming
Near the stile.
A primrose blooms
In the woodland brake!
Queen Mab! Queen Mab!
Awake! Awake!