Voice—(Right.) Cock-a-doodle-doo!
Suk—(Breaking away.) Loki!
(He rushes out left, followed by the three other gnomes. From the right Gimel enters.)
Gimel—Cock-a-doodle-doo!
The sun's up, Granny! Hear the cock!
His morning trumpet wakes the village up.
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
See the good people in their Sunday clothes.
A long procession up the mountain goes
With boughs of cypress and boughs of yew.
And now the big bell in the abbey tower
T-o-l-l-s and it t-o-l-l-s and it t-o-l-l-s.
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
What makes the big bell
Sob in its tower? Can any one tell?
Why, the monk that pulls at the rope, I ween.
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
(He follows the others through the narrow passage, left. A moment later, from the opposite side, a fairy appears and beckons to the dwarf. The latter, after a quick glance to the left, stealthily takes up the sword from the floor and follows the fairy from the cave.)
SCENE THREE—The monastery of St. Giles, in the mountains. An open court, with buildings dimly seen in the darkness. To the right, the dormitory, a large structure built of stone, with high, deep-set windows protected by heavy shutters which are closed. Across the court a high wall, starting in front, extends back some fifteen feet and abuts the side of the chapel before which in outline long stone steps may be discerned. In the center of the wall is an archway with a pair of ponderous iron gates. The night is dark and windy.
Along the side of the dormitory comes old Andrew with a staff and lighted taper. He is singing in a low voice.
Andrew—The barque o' the moon, like the Ithican's ship,
Heigho, she's swamped on the sea,
With her big bags of wind—(Turning the corner and meeting the wind.) Hey!
Up, lads! Swell your bellies, sails! Now we're for't!
(His candle threatening to go out, he draws back. For a while he stands as if perplexed. Then, rounding the corner, he again turns his shoulder to the wind and, shielding his taper thus, moves sidewise across the court toward the chapel.)
Puff, devils, puff, puff! Howl and snap! howl and snap!
You'll scare old Andrew, will you? By the saints,
I'll have this taper in the chapel sconce
In spite of all your snarling.