The prophet speaking in the market-place.
Moon-Blossom.
All afternoon his voice has shouted evil.
Jezebel.
It is as red as blood within this room.
They have gone out to war; is it not so?
I have been thinking till it all seems plain.
We are amusements only
In mightier life than ours.
God knows, we are not amusement to ourselves.
I am no Queen. I have no son; no husband;
No task, no place, and yet I covet news.
Look, by the rocks, beyond the spur; you see?
Rose-Flower.
A rider.
Moon-Blossom.
In a white cloak, with a lance.
Rose-Flower.