Seventh Fairy—They will throw him down! They will throw him down!
Fifth Fairy—Oh, catch him with delicate hands as he falls
Into the mist and—
Sixth Fairy— Save him!
Seventh Fairy— Save him!
Fifth Fairy—And I will run to the mountain cave.
(The two fairies hasten out through the thicket, the fifth disappears back among the trees, left. Singing is heard up the slope. A moment later, a number of fairies circle in with green boughs in their hands.)
On the downs and in the dells.
Trip it softly, softly, sister,
Lest the stock-dove, lightly sleeping,
Wake and hear our fairy bells.
First Fairy—Oh, something black tumbled into the mist!
Second Fairy—And something bright—what was it, sister?
First Fairy—A star, I think; it glanced and fell.