Martin Pippin in the Apple Orchard | Page 5

singer,?O my honey-sweet singer!
THE WANDERING SINGER?But if I play you a Roundel, lady,?Get me a gift from the Emperor's Daughter--?Her finger-ring for my finger bring?Though she's pledged a thousand leagues over the water,?Lady, lady?My fair lady,?O my rose-white lady!
THE LADIES?(They give him the ring from the finger of The Emperor's Daughter, and sing--)?Now you may play us a Roundel, singer,?A sunset-dance for a rose-white lady,?For the blossom's now on the apple-bough,?And the stars are near and the lawn is shady,?Singer, singer,?Wandering singer,?O my honey-sweet singer!
As before, The Singer plays and The Ladies dance; and through the broken circle The Singer comes behind The Emperor's Daughter, who uncovers her face to sing--)
THE EMPEROR'S DAUGHTER?Mother, mother, my fair dead mother,?They've stolen the ring from your heart-sick daughter.
THE WANDERING SINGER?O mend your heart, you shall wear this other?When yours is a thousand leagues over the water,?Daughter, daughter,?My sweet daughter!?Love is at hand, my daughter!
The third part of the game is seldom played. If it is not bed-time, or tea-time, or dinner-time, or school-time, by this time at all events the players have grown weary of the game, which is tiresomely long; and most likely they will decide to play something else, such as Bertha Gentle Lady, or The Busy Lass, or Gypsy, Gypsy, Raggetty Loon!, or The Crock of Gold, or Wayland, Shoe me my Mare!--which are all good games in their way, though not, like The Spring-Green Lady, native to Adversane. But I did once have the luck to hear and see The Lady played in entirety--the children had been granted leave to play "just one more game" before bed-time, and of course they chose the longest and played it without missing a syllable.
(The Ladies, in yellow dresses, stand again in a ring about The Emperor's Daughter, and are for the last time accosted by The Singer with his lute.)
THE WANDERING SINGER?Lady, lady, my apple-gold lady,?May I come into your orchard, lady??For the fruit is now on the apple-bough,?And the moon is up and the lawn is shady,?Lady, lady,?My fair lady,?O my apple-gold lady!
THE LADIES?You may not come into our orchard, singer,?In case you set free the Emperor's Daughter?Who pines apart to follow her heart?That's flown a thousand leagues over the water,?Singer, singer,?Wandering singer,?O my honey-sweet singer!
THE WANDERING SINGER?Lady, lady, my apple-gold lady,?But will you not hear a Serena, lady??I'll play for you now neath the apple-bough?And you shall dream on the lawn so shady,?Lady, lady,?My fair lady,?O my apple-gold lady!
THE LADIES?O if you play a Serena, singer,?How can that harm the Emperor's Daughter??She would not hear though we danced a year?With her heart a thousand leagues over the water,?Singer, singer,?Wandering singer,?O my honey-sweet singer!
THE WANDERING SINGER?But if I play a Serena, lady,?Let me guard the key of the Emperor's Daughter,?Lest her body should follow her heart like a swallow?And fly a thousand leagues over the water,?Lady, lady,?My fair lady,?O my apple-gold lady!
THE LADIES?(They give the key of the Tower into his hands.)?Now you may play a Serena, singer,?A dream of night for an apple-gold lady,?For the fruit is now on the apple-bough?And the moon is up and the lawn is shady,?Singer, singer,?Wandering singer,?O my honey-sweet singer!
(Once more The Singer plays and The Ladies dance; but one by one they fall asleep to the drowsy music, and then The Singer steps into the ring and unlocks the Tower and kisses The Emperor's Daughter. They have the end of the game to themselves.)
Lover, lover, thy/my own true lover?Has opened a way for the Emperor's Daughter!?The dawn is the goal and the dark the cover?As we sail a thousand leagues over the water--?Lover, lover,?My dear lover,?O my own true lover!
(The Wandering Singer and The Emperor's Daughter float a thousand leagues in his shallop and live happily ever after. I don't know what becomes of The Ladies.)
"Bed-time, children!"
In they go.
You see the treatment is a trifle fanciful. But romance gathers round an old story like lichen on an old branch. And the story of Martin Pippin in the Apple-Orchard is so old now--some say a year old, some say even two. How can the children be expected to remember?
But here's the truth of it.
MARTIN PIPPIN IN THE APPLE-ORCHARD
PROLOGUE?PART I
One morning in April Martin Pippin walked in the meadows near Adversane, and there he saw a young fellow sowing a field with oats broadcast. So pleasant a sight was enough to arrest Martin for an hour, though less important things, such as making his living, could not occupy him for a minute. So he leaned upon the gate, and presently noticed that for every handful he scattered the young man shed as many tears as seeds, and now and then he stopped his sowing altogether, and putting his face between his hands sobbed bitterly. When this had happened three or four times, Martin hailed the youth,