HANS the Butcher
Wife,—'t is none of ours.
AXEL the Smith
Let him snore on!—The only man would rather
Sleep late than meet his only child again!
PETER the Cobbler
[deprecatingly]
No man may parley with the gifts of Fortune!
[Knocking on the door]
Jacobus!
[Enter, at the rear, with a straggling crowd, BARBARA and MICHAEL, both radiant and resolute. She wears the long green cloak over her bridal array.
JACOBUS appears in his doorway, night-capped and fur-gowned, shrinking from the hostile crowd. The people murmur.
CROWD
( Barbara!—She that was bewitched!
( And who's the man? Is it the Piper? No!
( No, no—some stranger. Barbara! Barbara's home;—
( He never gave her up!—Who is the man?
JACOBUS
My daughter! 'Tis my daughter,—found—restored!
Oh, heaven is with us!
ALL [sullenly] Ah!
JACOBUS
Child, where have you been?
ALL
Ay, where, Jacobus?
[He is dismayed.]