RUDOLPH--Val-father's voice from out the clouds mid-air
Meets with the dragon's voice and devours it. Hark!
CANZLER--It may lay hands on Fritz.
(_He goes back along the ledge and starts down the
mountain._)
RUDOLPH-- Be careful, chief!
The wheel moves this way.
CANZLER-- It is following them.
RUDOLPH--Here he comes running up the mountain!
CANZLER-- Where?
RUDOLPH--Wait till the lightning shows the slopes again.
(_They listen. The shouts draw nearer._)
CANZLER--The Bailiff's blood has roused them.
RUDOLPH-- With that blood
Val-father has enticed it from its lair
To tempt the mountains and to seek for more.
(_Lightning._)
Up here! Coming up here!
CANZLER--(_Shouting._) Fritz!
RUDOLPH-- The dark bloom,
Whose scattered roots the years have fed, at last
Unfolds its petals to the sun. The North
In all her graves is waiting for the dawn.
To-day Val-father lays his shadow by.
CANZLER--Go up the rocks and blow the battle horn.
(_Rudolph goes leaping up the rocks._)
And let the battle cry be "Dachtelfeld"!
RUDOLPH--The peaks are tipped with day!
(_He disappears up the rocks._)
VOICE OF SELMA--(_Above._) Where are you, Father?
(_Lightning._)
CANZLER--Stay from the timber! Don't get near the trees!
(_Thunder._)
Stay in the open, Selma!
(_The form of Canzler, who stands back upon the
ledge, disappears in the gathering gloom._)
VOICE OF SELMA-- Father!
VOICE OF FRITZ--(_Down the mountain._) Chief!
(_There is heard, at first scarcely audible but
rising more and more, low music as of spirit
voices. Above, just where the sheep-path
enters the bushes, Selma appears coming_
_hurriedly down. Hearing the music, she stops
and, listening, becomes as one entranced._)
SELMA-- (_Almost in a whisper._)
Father!
(_Canzler comes forward into view. The girl, still
transported and more like a being of the air,
has come further down the path._)
Oh, hear them!
CANZLER-- Go back, go back, child!
They shall not harm you. (_She rushes to him._)
They will not come up here.
(_The girl lays her hand on his arm. They listen._)
Only Val-father's voice along the storm.
VOICE OF FRITZ--Chief!
CANZLER-- It is Fritz.
SELMA--- The trees--the trees are singing.
The wild vines and the mountain flowers--Oh!
O Father, see!
CANZLER-- What ails you, child?
SELMA--The elves--the storm elves gather in the air,
And up the mountain there--
Hear them, Father! Hear the fairies calling!
Oh, the white flakes! The dog-wood blooms are falling!
(_She runs wildly up the path._)
He's coming, Father! Oswald's coming!
(_She disappears among the bushes. In the rear
Fritz is seen climbing up the mountain._)
FRITZ-- (_Who goes leaping on up the rocks._)
Chief!
CANZLER--Here I am.
(_Fritz leaps back down to the ledge and comes
hurrying forward._)
FRITZ-- (_Out of breath._)
They've killed--they've killed the sheep!
Like hungry dogs. It's us they're after, though.
Dashed in and slashed them with their swords. Hear that!
(_Wild shouting below._)
That's for our blood. (_They listen._)
If we don't arm, chief,--
CANZLER-- Hark!
FRITZ-- (_After a pause._)
If we don't arm--
(_Up the mountain sounds the battle horn._)
To have lived to see this day!
(_He hurries up the path and disappears._)
CANZLER--Val-father's winds have blown them here to die.
(_He goes up the path. The music is now distinctly
heard above the noise of the storm. A flash
of lightning reveals, in the rear, the dwarf
climbing up the mountain, leading Oswald
by the hand. Instantly loud and prolonged_
_shouting bursts up from about a hundred feet_
_below. The two come hurrying forward along
the ledge. Oswald's face is streaked with
blood and from the end of its black cord, his
silver crucifix, likewise stained, dangles
almost to his knees. Gradually it slips lower
and lower till it finally falls and lies upon
the grass. Having reached the path, they make
their way up and are soon lost to view. That
peculiar light which one sometimes sees when
clouds are rifted during a storm illumines
the scene and makes the green grass and trees
show almost like flame. Below, voices are
heard, and soon, climbing up the mountain,
Father Benedict appears, his face pale, his
eyes set before him. Upon the skirt of his
snow-white chasuble there is seen, slanting_
_down, a red streak as though he had pressed
against a bloody sword-blade. Behind him,
scattered, come, first, Hugh Capet with the
great flag blown straight out in the wind,
then Jules Bacqueur and Jacques Sar, their
swords dripping, and, after them, the other
villagers._)
JULES BACQUEUR--Straight ahead. Father! Straight ahead!
A VOICE-- (_From below._)
See them, Hugh?
JACQUES SAR--You come on; we'll find them.
(_Instead of coming forward to the path, which the
bushes and bowlders hide from their view,
they go pushing straight on up the rocks._)
HUGH CAPET--Come on, men!
JACQUES SAR--Stay together, men! (_A pause._)
Hold her low, Phil!
(_Up the mountain sounds the battle-horn._)
CRIES--Hear that! Hear that!
JACQUES SAR--Don't get scared, men!
CRIES--Don't get scared! Don't get scared!
A VOICE--God's with us!
ALL--God's with us! God's with us!
HUGH CAPET--Come on, men!
JACQUES SAR--Wait for the signal! Wait for the signal, men!
(_All look to the priest._)
Now then.
JULES BACQUEUR--Now, Father.