Selma— (Without looking up.)
I do not like you, for you will not tell.
(The fairies start and exchange glances.)
First Fairy—Oh, see the dew-globes break upon the moss!
(She runs back a little way among the trees. The others follow her and they talk among themselves.)
Second Fairy—Where is he now?
Third Fairy— He is making his way
To his cold dark cell in the cold dark house
Where the lizards dart and the crickets call.
First Fairy—I heard the grind of his wooden shoe
On the mountain road; but she must not know.
Fourth Fairy—We stood in the pines and we saw him pass,
A thin white shadow she would not know.
Fifth Fairy—And, sisters, he turned his face to the stars
And we heard him sigh.
Fourth Fairy— And we heard him sigh.