Where herded sheep lay slumber-still,
All wrapped in snowy fleece,
Within a humble khan, where lay
A band of farers on their way,
Was born the Prince of Peace,
Prince of Peace!
Then from the wakened skies there came
A wonder-song, a starry flame,
By star and song to tell
That prince’s hall or wayside khan
Shall Heaven be, when child of man
Is child of God as well!
God as well!
The angels sing to-day, as then,
God’s peace on earth, goodwill to men
His pledge divine who keep,
And by the tower on the hill
Lo! Christ the Shepherd watches still,
So, lambkins, go to sleep!
Go to sleep!
The curtains have parted slowly, noiselessly, disclosing a room in such
deep shadow that only by peering can one discern three small white beds
far up against the wall of a real everyday nursery, a companionable
fire purring on the hearth, and a real everyday Mother, the kind every
happy child knows, sitting singing. When her song is ended she rises,
bends over the pillows, nods as if satisfied that, though three soft,
warm little bodies lie snugly tucked in between sheets and blankets, the
Children themselves have gone off on their nightly journey, to Sleep,
smoothes a coverlet in the quite unnecessary way that Mothers have, draws
a screen about the beds to keep out the draught that grown-ups always
think is trying to get at children, but that in reality could not be
coaxed to stay in a house with all outdoors to play in, then, going to
the hearth, she seizes the poker, and in a fashion rather violent for
so gentle a being, she beats the reddest of the logs until it sneezes
sparks, as if to caution it against breaking out in greedy flames that
make everything within reach catch fire like measles. Finally, since
there is not the least, wee excuse for further lingering, she kisses her
hand to the forms of the Children who by this time are very far away, and
steals noiselessly from the room.
The fire goes out with a disgruntled pop, as if remarking that it has
no desire to remain where it is not trusted to behave itself, and the
room becomes so dark you think it is all over, and that it is not much
of a play after all, when, hark! You hear the jingle of sleigh-bells,
and the laughter of a merry party passing by. Now the warm glow returns
slowly to the hearth and the logs start talking. “Crack, crack! Splutter,
splutter,” cries one, turning its torch in the direction of the
book-shelves. “What’s all this learned nonsense? Works on botany, and
what’s that long word? Yes, ornithology! Why don’t they say birds and
beasts and flowers and forests and things? And why go to books to learn
when one has eyes and ears ... five senses, all told, and a sixth, if
people did but know it!”
“Stupid as a log,” cries another. “That’s what I overheard a teacher call
a boy whose poor little body was kept in a school-room while its soul
had its arms about my neck, learning True History, and the Real Meaning
of Things, in the forest! For my part, at the risk of seeming vain I
consider a log the brightest thing I know!”
“Right, O,” concurred a third. “Really human beings are the dullest
creatures! probably because someone invented words for them to talk with!
Now if you’re seeking a professor of language let me recommend the head
of the squirrel family that used to be my top-front lodgers. He could
chatter more fluently about a hazel-nut without articulating a single
word than any human that has addled his brains getting an University
diploma!”
“True,” replied the first speaker. “And the longer humans live
in the world the duller they become from read—read—reading, and
talk—talk—talking words, words, words, words, words! Now take babies.
Babies are the wise ones. Babies who cheep like birds when pleased and
squeal the way little pigs do when they are hungry can always be depended
on to make their meaning understood! Nobody has to consult a dictionary
or employ an interpreter to hold a conversation with a baby in any
language! Old people, too, when they lose their teeth and forget words,
they grow wise again! What a pleasure it is to burn brightly for old
people as they sit beside the hearth, warming their hearts, and telling
them over and over again the forgotten tales they heard from us before
their wits were cluttered up with words like rank growths of underbrush
in the forest!”
All paused a moment to reflect on this fine sentiment, when a log at the
back of the pile that had hitherto held itself aloof, rolled up in a
ragged cloak of charred bark, now turned over with a snort, falling on
the others heavily. “The forest, indeed! Landlubbers all! I have been
to sea! I have been shipwrecked! I have stood on my head and turned
somersaults in mid-ocean!” And he stuck out his tongue, sending forth
darts of the most wonderful green and blue. Thoroughly roused now, the
logs all talk at the same time, bragging of their adventures and of the
family trees from which they have sprung, and there’s no knowing how it
would end if it were not that some people passing sing a snatch of an old
Christmas Carol, a great favourite with the hearth-logs, so that they
cease wrangling to listen to it.
Carol, carol, Christian!
Carol, carol joyfully!
Carol for the coming of Christ’s nativity!
Go ye to the forest
Where the myrtles grow,
Where the pine and laurel bend beneath the snow!
Gather them for Jesus,
Wreathe them for his shrine,
Make his temple glorious with the box and vine!
Now there is dead silence in the nursery which soon is filled with a
strange light made up of hearth-glow, moon-beam and the blueness that
only comes from fairyland. For the first time you notice that the
Children have hung their stockings from the mantelpiece. Then you see,
asleep on the hearthrug, three small brown beings, each cuddling a broom,
by which token you know them to be the Good Little People who make their
home with happy Children, called Lobs for short, though if ever you
address one by his full title you’ll say Lob-Lie-By-The-Fire.
FIRST LOB.
[_Waking, stirs._] Pray is it time?
SECOND LOB.
[_Waking, turns._] Eh? Time? ’Tis always time.
Is ever there a time when ’tis not time?
FIRST LOB.
I mean, is it the hour for chanticleer
To crow the sun up, Lob to vanish?
SECOND LOB.
Nay!
So warm the hearth, so bright the embers glow,
The night must still be young! Sleep out your sleep,
And let me do the same! [_Drowsily._]
FIRST LOB.
Brother, no work
Is there for us to-night as usual
In redding up the place?
SECOND LOB.
’Tis Christmas Eve!
A holiday! Our task comes later. Scraps
And string and littered paper, leaves that dry
And crackling fall from holly boughs, burnt-out
The candles on the Tree, soon will our hands
With these be full!
[_He turns over and hums drowsily._]
Lob here, Lob there,
Lob everywhere!
Lob, sweep the hearth and mend the toys,
Lob, do the tasks of girls and boys,
Who would not be a Lob like me,
A merry Lob-lie-by-the-fire like me!
[_Again there is silence. The mysterious
light which we now see proceeds from the
night-light in the corner grows brighter.
One of the children, DICK, probably, says
something in his sleep._]
THIRD LOB.
[_Starting up._] What’s that?
SECOND LOB.
What’s what?
THIRD LOB.
Surely
Someone said something!
SECOND LOB.
Someone I could name
Said something! If someone would learn to say
A trifle less, do more, ’twere better far
For someone!
DICK.
Bells! His flying reindeer cleave
The crystal air, shaking the golden stars
Out of their sockets, scattering their dust
All-sparkling on the snow! Oh, listen!
THIRD LOB.
Hark!
The children wake! And we still here!
SECOND LOB.
Why not?
A nosey dog, the household cat with brains
In every whisker-tip, on friendly terms
With these ’twere best to be, I grant you. But
A dull-sensed human child between whose feet
We sweep unheeded shall we fear?
THIRD LOB.
Only
On Christmas Eve when fairy-tales come true!
SECOND LOB.
O wise the word! Come, brother; wake!
[_He pokes the FIRST LOB with his broom._]
FIRST LOB.
Let be!
I’m weary!
[_THE CHILDREN now are heard, yawning and
stretching. He starts up._]
Eh? What’s this? That rowdy horde
Of heavy-footed Children, coming back
Like runaways deserting school, before
Dawn and the birds, from Sleep! O trespassers
Upon our ancient province of the night!
[_THE CHILDREN come pattering toward the
hearth dragging on their dressing-gowns
over their night-gowns._]
DICK.
I’m sure I heard him!
BABS.
Nonsense, Dick. For, see!
Unfilled our stockings from the mantel hang,
Dangling as when we left them for him!
DICK.
Oh!
You do not think he can have passed us by?
O Santa Claus, come back!
BEESWAX.
[_Catching sight of the THREE LOBS, who
stand, brooms shouldered, guarding the
hearth._]
Oh, look! Dick, Babs! Just look!
Three wee brown men with brooms!
[_She approaches THE LOBS._]
I know you! Yes,
I’ve read about you in a picture-book!
You’re Lobs!
FIRST LOB.
[_Saluting._] Lob here!
SECOND LOB.
[_Saluting._] Lob there!
THIRD LOB.
[_Saluting._] Lob everywhere!
DICK AND BABS.
[_Excited._] What! Real Lobs? Alive?
THE LOBS.
[_Laugh derisively._] O silly ones! Whoever heard of Lobs
Unreal, not alive? [_They dance about, singing._]
Lob here, Lob there, Lob everywhere,
Lob sweep the hearth, Lob mend the toys,
Lob do the tasks of girls and boys!
Who would not be a Lob like me!
A merry Lob-lie-by-the-fire like me!
BABS.
I’m charmed to meet you. Make yourselves at home!
THE LOBS.
We are at home. We live here! But, pray you
Feel quite at home!
THE CHILDREN.
In our own home of course
At home we feel! We live here!
THE LOBS.
Just by day!
By night when you go off to sleep the place
Is ours!
FIRST LOB.
But, Christmas Eve, a holiday,
As guests we welcome you. Our hearth-fire share!
SECOND AND THIRD LOBS.
Pray do so! [_With a gesture inviting THE CHILDREN to sit._]
THE CHILDREN.
Thank you, Lobs! How kind they are. [_All sit._]
BABS.
I’m Ethel, Babs for short, since I myself
Was short to start with, when a baby!
FIRST LOB.
Oh,
I know you, Babs. (Still short sometimes in marks
At school, I fear! However you mean well!)
BEESWAX.
Named Janet, Beeswax am I called, because
So tidy am I!
SECOND LOB.
[_With a burst of laughter._] Tidy? Ha, ha, ha!
Behold who overnight fulfills the tasks
Undone that Beeswax leaves! However well
You mean, and so I grumble not!
DICK.
[_To the THIRD LOB._] And you
My lessons for me learn, no doubt you’ll say?
THIRD LOB.
No, Richard, no! My best I do, but you
Are lazy! Well you mean, however, so
We’ll let it pass!
DICK.
[_Listens._] What’s Billy barking for? [_He explains to THE LOBS._]
Billy’s our dog!
THE LOBS.
[_Correcting him._] By day! But after dark
Our dog is Billy!
DICK.
Well, your dog or ours,
Billy is barking! Yet in friendly wise,
As greeting someone! Listen! [_He starts up._] There are steps
Upon the stairs, above, and roundabout!
BEESWAX.
I also hear them! Little footfalls light
As snowflakes!
BABS.
Pat-pat-pattering this way
They come!
[_ALL have risen from the hearthrug where
they have been sitting, to listen._]
THE LOBS.
[_Explaining._] ’Tis but the children of the house
At play!
THE CHILDREN.
[_Puzzled._] But we the children of the house
Are surely!
THE LOBS.
[_Explaining._] Daytime calls you so! But night
The gate sets wide for Children of the Past,
All children that have ever been, to roam
At pleasure, enter where they will!
BEESWAX.
[_Clasping her hands in ecstasy._] In here
Their little feet have sometimes wandered? Oh,
I wish ... Oh, how I wish that I might see,
Might speak with, play with them!
FIRST LOB.
Call them by name!
If lovingly, I’ll answer for ’t, they’ll come!
BABS.
I’ll choose!
DICK.
No. I will!
BEESWAX.
I spoke first! Oh, hush! [_She listens._]
Fleeing, their footsteps turn the other way!
Oh, Children, stay!
SECOND LOB.
Never where wrangling jars
They enter. Only where love reigns!
BABS.
Then I
Give up to Beeswax.
BEESWAX.
I to Dick!
DICK.
And I
To both!... Well, just to start the game.... Here goes
For playmates: boys!
BABS AND BEESWAX.
[_Clapping hands with delight._] That’s it; just playmates: girls!
[_CHILDREN OF THE PAST, of many
nationalities, peep forth from
under beds, chairs, tables; from
behind curtains, screens and doors,
crying, “Here we are! Come, catch us,
if you can!”_]
BABS, BEESWAX, AND DICK.
[_Running toward them._] O Children, come and play with us!
[_But the CHILDREN OF THE PAST disappear
whenever THE PRESENT-DAY CHILDREN draw
close to them. The latter exclaim,
disappointed_:]
Oh, they’ve gone!
THIRD LOB.
Wait! Yonder comes one!
[_He points toward the screen from behind
which emerges a fair little lad, about
DICK’S age, in a blue smock and
barefooted._]
THE PRESENT-DAY CHILDREN.
[_Delighted._] Oh, a little boy!
THE VISITOR.
[_Introducing himself._] Son to the weaver by the Olive Gate
In Genoa, Colombo. Named am I
For Saint Cristoforo!
THE PRESENT-DAY CHILDREN.
[_Excited._] ’Tis Christopher Columbus! Oh-oh-h-h!
BABS.
[_Hospitably._] Pray rest yourself! Do take this easy chair!
How weary must you be for centuries
Standing upon a monument!
BEESWAX.
[_Assisting COLUMBUS to climb into the
chair that BABS draws up._]
Somehow I always think of you as middle-aged!
COLUMBUS.
[_Bursting into laughter._] Me middle-aged! Me on a monument!
[_Then becoming suddenly grave._]
But keep your eye on me! I’ll get there yet!
DICK.
Why don’t you speak Italian?
COLUMBUS.
[_Staring with surprise._] So I do!
FIRST LOB.
[_Explains._] At fairy-parties everybody speaks
One language!
COLUMBUS.
[_Jumping up and down in the chair._] What a jolly chair! Hurrah.
A caravel riding the waves it seems!
Come close! [_He beckons._] I’ll whisper you my secret! When
Grown up am I no carding wool for me!
I mean to be a sailor!
[_THE CHILDREN clap hands delighted, and
cry, “Bravo, Christopher!”_]
Round the world,
The round, round world around I’ll sail! From Court
To Court I’ll begging go till Queens and Kings
Help make my dreams come true!
[_A BOY and GIRL in the Court dress of
Spain enter, hand in hand, as if having
heard themselves summoned._]
THE PRESENT-DAY CHILDREN.
[_Sing._] These royal children hand in hand
From olden time and far-off land
Are Isabel and Ferdinand—
’Tis plain as plain can be!
ISABEL AND FERDINAND.
[_Sing._] We’re Isabel and Ferdinand!
’Tis plain as plain can be!
COLUMBUS.
[_Sings._] O Ferdinand and Isabel,
Your jewels pray you pawn or sell
To fit me out a caravel
That I may go to sea!
THE PRESENT-DAY CHILDREN.
[_Sing._] Aye; fit him out a caravel
That he may go to sea!
COLUMBUS.
[_Making a telescope of his hands, sings._]
This world of ours is growing old.
And by the sunset’s gateway gold
A brand-new world can I behold
As plain as plain can be!
ALL.
[_Making telescopes of their hands, sing._]
A brand-new world can he behold
As plain as plain can be!
ISABEL AND FERDINAND.
[_Sing._] Brave lad, your prayer is not in vain.
When king are we and queen of Spain
We’ll send you speeding o’er the main
To find that new world’s key!
THE OTHERS.
[_Sing, dancing._]
They’ll send him speeding o’er the main
To find that new world’s key!
[_FERDINAND, ISABELLA and COLUMBUS retire
to a corner to discuss their plans. DICK
joins them. THE LOBS busy themselves
shaking up the cushions of the easy chair
and setting the room in order._]
BABS.
[_To BEESWAX._] Girls, fairy-story playmates let us call:
Red Riding Hood and Snow White, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty ...
all the rest!
BEESWAX.
[_Echoing the wish._] Yes, yes! O fairy-story playmates, come to life!
[_Again CHILDREN peer forth from shadowy
hiding-places, calling, “Here we are!
Come, catch us if you can!” The two
little girls try to catch these fairy
visitors, who, however, always elude
them._]
BABS.
[_Grieved._] They mocking flee us though we love them so!
BEESWAX.
[_Grieved._] O Children! One ... if only one would stay!
[_A little girl whom we will call THE
ROSE-GIRL enters, clad in homely
clothes of green, with a large
flower-like sunbonnet._]
THE ROSE-GIRL.
Well; here I am!
BABS.
Now who may this be, pray?
THE ROSE-GIRL.
Anon I heard you summon me by name,
And though tucked safely in my wintry bed
I dressed myself as quickly as I could
And clambered to your window as I do
In June! What, don’t you know me?
BEESWAX.
[_Struggling with some remembrance._] Wait! Your clothes
Of leaf-like green ... and sunbonneted like
A petal’d flower ... and sweet-scented.... Oh,
Of course I know you!
BABS.
So do I! Welcome,
O rose of summer!
BEESWAX.
Welcome, summer rose!
[_THE ROSE-GIRL laughs for pleasure and
returns the kisses with which the two
little girls greet her._]
BABS.
But all the same, and though I love you well
You’re not a princess from a fairy-book!
THE ROSE-GIRL.
Oh, but I am! The earth’s great wonder-book
The story tells of Sleeping-Beauty! [_She sings._]
THE SONG OF THE SLEEPING BEAUTY ROSE.
We flowers never die!
All tucked abed we lie
Through our long winter trance,
Till comes a sunbeam bright,
A golden-armoured knight,
With golden lance!
Our icy bonds he breaks;
Our comrade-birds he wakes,
And lights our darkened room,
As with a kiss he cries,
“O flowers, ope your eyes!
Come forth and bloom!”
[_While the little girls are applauding
the SLEEPING BEAUTY FLOWER’S song a long,
lank boy comes in, lamenting: “My shadow!
I can’t find my shadow! O help me find my
shadow!” All turn to him in surprise,
saying, “Now who may this be, crying for
his shadow, pray?”_]
THE SHADOWLESS BOY.
[_Explaining._] I’m Peter, son to that Schlemihl who sold
His shadow to the Evil One! Since when
His name who answer to fare shadowless!
BABS.
Poor boy! Draw near the hearth and warm yourself!
PETER SCHLEMIHL.
[_Shrinking back._] I dare not, lest its glow should show my lack
Of full equipment! Nightly thus I roam,
Seeking if someone has not cast away
A worn-out shadow that could be patched up
To fit me!
BEESWAX.
O poor Peter! See! Here’s mine!
[_She stands so that the hearth-glow throws
her shadow on the wall._]
Do take it for a Christmas present!
PETER SCHLEMIHL.
[_Looks at the shadow, then shakes his head._] Kind
The thought, but think how funny I should look,
A long, lank boy, when walking heel to heel
With the dark pattern of small, plump maid!
DICK.
Now what a fuss to make about a thing
That is not anything: a shadow!
PETER SCHLEMIHL.
Oh,
You think so, do you? Try it then and see!
[_He recites or sings._]
THE LAMENT OF THE SHADOWLESS BOY.
When from a cloud the sun
Peeps forth I frightened run
The city through,
While throwing stones with jeering noise
A shadowed troop of girls and boys
Pursue!
In class the master stern
Says, “Peter, can’t you learn
To keep the rule,
And bring your shadow clean and neat,
All dressed in black from head to feet,
To school?”
And so, through all my days
I shun life’s sunny ways.
Though cold it be
’Tis always pleasant in the shade
For one without a shadow made,
Like me!
[_While all are applauding this song and
condoling with the singer another boy
enters, short, stocky, with masterful
air._]
THE NEWCOMER.
Talking of shadows, watch mine grow! Erelong
Over the map of Europe will it spread
And spread itself!
FERDINAND.
[_Hand in hand with ISABEL._] We trust you will keep off
Our joint dominion, Castile, Aragon!
THE NEWCOMER.
Paf! Pouf! Your petty realm is but a patch
On my ambition! Still, I will not come
Till you yourselves are shadows and no more!
DICK.
[_Consulting the LOBS._] Who is he: Alexander, Prince Eugene,
Or Julius Cæsar?
THE LOBS.
[_Tearing their hair._] Dick, Dick, Dick! O Dick,
Is it for this we try to clear your brain
Of cobwebs!
THE NEWCOMER.
[_To DICK._] Not so far afield, my lad!
I’m all the generals that ever were
Rolled into one ... or shall be, when I’m grown!
BABS.
[_Recognising NAPOLEON._] Napoleon! Or Mr. Bonaparte, perhaps
I ought to say! I’m charmed to meet you!
NAPOLEON.
So
You ought to be! Now, all keep silence while
A piece I speak! I made it up myself,
Or, rather, ’tis a dream I had! Shorter
Than I could wish myself, help me to stand
Upon the table!
[_Assisted by the others he clambers up
on the table and recites._]
MY DREAM.
I dreamed I was a kite
With, O, the loveliest long tail!
You should have seen me catch the breeze,
And, taking flight,
Sail upward. Sail
High over houses, trees;
Over the church steeple,
While, O, such crowds of people
Tossed caps, and shouted, “Hip, hurrah!
Bravo! Well done!”
While I said, “Bah!
sun!”
the
reach
I
until
and up,
up,
Just watch me mount up,
Soon I had gone so far,
The world looked like a tiny ball!
Yet all was darkness. In the sky
No moon, no star,
No sun at all!
The breeze began to die.
I felt myself falling
Down, down. I called, but, calling,
No answer heard. I seemed a lump
Of ice and lead
When I came Bump!
And wakened up, all snug and warm,
in
my
own
soft,
white
bed!
[_While his hearers are crowding about
NAPOLEON, applauding him, and assisting
him to climb down from the table, CHILDREN
of many periods and nationalities come
from their hiding-places._]
ONE GROUP.
[_In Puritan garb._] Prithee, may we enter? Maids are we
And lads from Plymouth Colony! And this
Our Indian playmate!
[_They introduce an INDIAN CHILD. While
they are being welcomed a fine brave
lad in riding-clothes enters._]
THE YOUTH IN RIDING-CLOTHES.
Riding garb
But ill equips me for society.
Yet my respects I’d fain in passing pay!
[_A smartly dressed LITTLE GIRL IN COLONIAL
COSTUME runs in._]
THE COLONIAL LITTLE GIRL.
I’m Patsy Dandridge. Please may I come in?
[_PATSY is followed by a very plainly
dressed little COUNTRY BOY._]
THE COUNTRY BOY.
Plain folk from Illinois ... Tom Lincoln’s boy ...
I’m Abe!
THE PRESENT-DAY CHILDREN.
Abe Lincoln, Patsy, and Virginia George,
Be sure you were expected!
NAPOLEON.
[_To GEORGE._] Can you fight?
GEORGE.
I would not brag, and yet anon I fought ...
Aye, licked him, too! a lad named Bustle, twice
My own weight!
NAPOLEON.
[_Reflectively._] Hm! [_He turns to ABE._] Can _you_ fight?
ABE.
Try me!
NAPOLEON.
[_Laughs._] Not to-night!
[_Crowds of CHILDREN now appear from the
shadows._]
THESE NEW CHILDREN.
O let us in! O Children, let us in!
So many are we, matter not our names!
We are just children, born to carry on
That endless fairy-tale called history!
Time was when we, like you, on Christmas Eve
Hung up our stockings for good Santa Claus
To fill! O let us once again relive
That happy hour!
THE PRESENT-DAY CHILDREN.
O welcome, welcome all!
BEESWAX.
Where’s Santa Claus! Why tarries the good saint?
FIRST LOB.
At midnight is he due! Hark! Even now
The old clock on the landing clears its throat
To strike!
[_ALL listen. A clock in the house strikes
twelve. Then there is heard a fanfare of
elfin horns mingled with the cheery sound
of approaching sleigh-bells._]
ALL.
[_Delighted._] He comes! He comes, good Santa Claus!
[_A rushing breeze sweeps through the
nursery, as if the window were suddenly
opened, and then closed. The heavy window
curtains part, and SANTA CLAUS appears._]
SANTA CLAUS.
Well, children! Here I am! And here it seems are you!
[_ALL make a rush for the good SAINT,
welcoming him, and preferring their
several petitions: “O welcome, Santa
Claus!... Here’s my stocking! Yonder’s
mine! Mine are on my legs! Did you bring
me a horse? A motor-car I asked for!
Please give me a sword, cocked hat and
uniform, also an army to command!... I
want a doll! Oh, yes; a doll its eyes
that opens, please! A silver thimble.
Bow and arrow and a pair of dancing
shoes!” etc., etc._]
SANTA CLAUS.
One at a time! One at a time, I say!...
To each and all one only gift I bring:
The world!
ALL.
[_Puzzled._] The world ... a Christmas present?
SANTA CLAUS.
[_Nods kindly._] Aye!
I’ll show you! Lobs, bring hither pipes and bowl!
[_From behind the curtains the LOBS bring
a huge crystal bowl filled with soap-suds
and a tray of pipes._]
THE CHILDREN.
[_Delighted._] Oh, soap-bubbles! Hip, hip, hurrah! Hurrah!
BEESWAX.
It was the world you promised us!
SANTA CLAUS.
[_Taking a huge pipe and blowing bubbles._] And see!
The world, a perfect sphere, all rainbow-bright,
Is yours to make, with every breath you draw!
[_The CHILDREN have taken pipes and now
blow bubbles._]
CHILDREN.
O Santa, see my world ... my round, round world,
My rainbow world!
COLUMBUS.
My teacher says the world
Is flat, but I know better! From the cliffs
Feluccas watch I, masted caravels,
Rise from the distance, climbing up a curve!
You’ll not forget your promise, will you? [_To FERDINAND and ISABEL._]
FERDINAND AND ISABEL.
Trust
Our honour, Christopher!
GEORGE FROM VIRGINIA.