SELMA--I did not know his name was--Ah, you run!
You are just like the fishes. Come and play.
I will not let it fall. (_Throwing back her hair._)
I will just peep
Over the edge.
(_Going up the slope to where the boughs hang low,
she begins to gather the green burrs. While
she gathers them, she sings:_)
_Hark, shepherd, hark; the forest calls_
_Away to the greenwood still._
_We'll leave the dewy wether-bell_
_To tinkle on the hill._
_Our ewes shall nibble gowan;_
_We'll gipsy in the wood;_
_Our bed shall be the wild plush moss;_
_Our cruse shall be the flood._
_The lush blue whortle-berries_
_We'll gather eve and morn_
_And we'll wander where the brocket_
_Rubs the velvet from his horn._
_Come, shepherd, come_--
I will not sing; the shepherd will not come.
I'll go and call the forest children. (_She takes up her basket._)
OSWALD-- Selma.
SELMA--Night-bird hooting at noon!
OSWALD-- Listen to me.
SELMA--I'll listen to the jay; he's merrier.
OSWALD--You are not of the witches that at night
Fly through the air to that far windy crag
That beetles o'er the foam of the wild sea
And there, with orgies lewd to the black goat,
Whirl in the revel with dark Barrabam?
SELMA--There is no fairy with a name like that.
OSWALD--He is the prince of fairies and of fiends.
Father Paul says that oft on stormy nights,
When stars scarce venture to the brink of heaven,
Witches go down the sky scattering fogs,
Diseases, blights, and death, and with them go
Those whom their cursed arts have wrought upon
To taste the air of Hell. Far in the West,
From every quarter of the earth and sky
And from those awful rivers, they assemble
And hold their sabbaths on a windy cliff,
A headland hanging over the edge of the world,
About whose base an ocean bellows so
That nothing dares approach save frenzied things.
There, while the moon protrudes an awful horn
Far off at sea and rocks among the waves,
They curse God's watchful planets from the sky
And lead their converts, dizzy with the brew,
To trample on the blood of Christ and swear
To serve the arch-demon who is known to them
As Barrabam. A while ago you said
You did not know his name as Satan. Selma,--
SELMA--You said he used my hair, but 'tis not mine.
The other day I saw him in the stream
Snaring the silver chubs. Said he: "My lass,
I'll give two shiners for a lock of hair."
"To snare the fishes with! You horrid man.
I will not give it." And I ran away.
'Tis not my hair he uses.
OSWALD--(_Aside._) What a child!
Walking in darkness to the Tempter's snare.
Oh, I would die for you!
SELMA-- You run away. (_He looks at her._)
You cannot guess what I found in the wood.
OSWALD--You do not know what danger you are in.
SELMA--I know the ground-bird lays five speckled eggs;
That filberts wear green hoods.
OSWALD-- Oh, what of that?
What will that profit in the Judgment Day?
You have not been baptized. You do not hear
The terrible, terrible, groanings of the lost.
O God, you do not know, you do not know!
SELMA--I know the wood-pink is the first to wake
Of all the flowers. I know where king-cups grow
And wink-a-peeps that sleep when days are dark.
I know when shadows lie beneath the boughs
As they do now, I know you'll never find
A squirrel or chipmunk out in all the wood,
For then the forest sleeps. And I know where--
OSWALD--O Selma, listen to me just this once,
And then forever listen to the years
Give back the echo of this golden hour.
Do you remember that day in the wood
When we were gathering may-apples? You ran
Shouting: "Here is a large one," and you stooped
To pick it, when a snake coiled round the stalk,
Hissed at you and you started back in fear.
Had it not hissed you never would have known
That it was there, so green it was, so like
The stalk it coiled about. You saw that one
Because it hissed. But one that hisses not
Is coiled about the world, as like the world
As was the green one to the may-flower stalk.
SELMA--I have heard father speak of it. He says
That it is full of bones.
OSWALD-- And souls of men.
Only in holy houses are we safe.
SELMA--He said that I should not go near the village
In gathering berries.
OSWALD-- 'Tis the serpent Sin.
Oh, how its sting has marred the perfect world!
Ready to spring, the fiends couch for us. We
Are hunted, Father Paul says, through the world
As was the deer the good saint saved, Saint Giles.
And men are fleeing from the wrath to come.
SELMA--It cannot come up on the mountain tops.
OSWALD--(_Fervently._) Call on the Virgin. Yield to Lord Jesus.
Do not reject him. Be baptized. Be saved.
Do you not see that I would die for you?
O Selma, playmate, loved one, promise me--
SELMA--I will not eat May-apples any more.
OSWALD--Oh, not to understand and yet be lost!
(_He walks away._)
SELMA--I will not eat them, Oswald. I will not
Go near them if you do not wish me to.
OSWALD--Some day you will know why.
(_He takes up his staff._) Then you will know
It was not for myself. You will know why.
(_He stops near the spring._)
You will remember this--this day--these leaves--
The golden sunlight on the waters there--
(_Thoughtfully, looking down into the spring._)
And never will come back forevermore.
SELMA--Oh, yes it will. They will not let her grieve.
The fairies, when they trip the wood to-night,
Will miss her, for she dances with them there.
Oh, you should see them, Oswald. When they dance
She is no bigger than the fairies are.
To see them swing--
Oh, 'tis a sight to make the wood-dove gay.
(_Circling round in a dance._)
_Lightly whirling round and round_
_Through the forest, scarcely shaking_
_Flower stalk upon the ground._
_In the leaves the violets waking_
_Scatter perfume. Fairies, bow;_
_Lift their purple hoods and kiss them._
_Join the dance and leave them now._ (_Ecstatically._)
One night up in the wood, when silver flakes
Were dancing with the fairies on the moss,
An owl whooped. The fairies scampered off
Into the ferns. The little water elf
I found up close against a gnarled oak trunk,
Hid in a moss-pink in a drop of dew.
Oh, she was tiny as a fairykin!
Her hair was scattered, she was frightened so.
You should have seen her how she looked at me,
As if to say: "You here!" I nod, and then
We laugh together, thinking of the trick
The surly owl played. (_Again she circles round in a dance._)
OSWALD--(_With horror._) This is enchantment!
This is the cursed spells of forest devils,
Witchcraft and Barrabam, the broth of Hell
And the wild mountain and the swirling sea!
(_Advancing toward her, he reaches into his bosom
and fetches forth a large silver crucifix
fastened to a black string that encircles his
neck._)
Selma, touch this, touch this and say with me:
"_Pater noster_--" come--"_qui es in coelis_--"
SELMA-- (_Still dancing._)
I don't know what it means.
OSWALD-- "_Pater_--". Repeat.