HANS' WIFE
Kind saints! Me out and gone to early mass,
And all this mortal church-time, there's a candle,
A candle burning in the casement there;—
Thou wasteful man!
HANS the Butcher
[huskily]
Come, come! Do not be chiding.
Suppose they came and could not see their way.
Suppose—O wife!—I thought they'd love the light!
I thought—
PETER the Cobbler
Ay, now! And there's another light
In Kurt the Syndic's house.
[They turn and look up. Other burghers join the group. All walk lamely and look the picture of wretchedness.
AXEL'S WIFE
His wife, poor thing,
The priest is with her. Ay, for once, they say,
Kurt's bark is broken.
OLD URSULA
There will be nothing young
To follow us to the grave.
AXEL'S WIFE
They tell, she seems
Sore stricken since the day that she was lost,
Lost, searching on the mountain. Since that time,
She will be saying nought. She stares and smiles.
HANS' WIFE
And reaches out her arms,—poor soul!
ALL
Poor soul!
[Murmur in the distance. They do not heed it.