SEELCHEN. Years, years I have slept. My spirit is hungry. [Then as she sees the Shepherd of THE COW HORN standing there] I know thee now—Life of the earth—the smell of thee, the sight of thee, the taste of thee, and all thy music. I have passed thee and gone by. [She moves away]
FELSMAN. [Waking] Where wouldst thou go?
SEELCHEN. To the edge of the world.
FELSMAN. [Rising and trying to stay her] Thou shalt not leave me!
[But against her smiling gesture he struggles as though against solidity]
SEELCHEN. Friend! The time is on me.
FELSMAN. Were my kisses, then, too rude? Was I too dull?
SEELCHEN. I do not regret.
The Youth of THE WINE HORN is seen suddenly standing opposite the motionless Shepherd of THE COW HORN; and his mandolin twangs out.
FELSMAN. The cursed music of the Town! Is it back to him thou wilt go? [Groping for sight of the hated figure] I cannot see.