SEELCHEN. I have known Change—I am no timid maid.
FELSMAN. [Moodily] Aye, thou art different. Thine eyes are hollow —thou art white-faced.
SEELCHEN. [Still mocking] Then what hast thou here that shall keep me?
FELSMAN. The sun.
SEELCHEN. To burn me.
FELSMAN. The air.
There is a faint wailing of wind.
SEELCHEN. To freeze me.
FELSMAN. The silence.
The noise of the wind dies away.