Martin Pippin in the Apple Orchard | Page 4

the Spring-Green Lady, the
Rose-White Lady, the Apple-Gold Lady, of the three parts of the game.
Often there are more than six in the group, for the true number of the
damsels who guarded their fellow in her prison is as forgotten as their
names: Joscelyn, Jane and Jennifer, Jessica, Joyce and Joan. Forgotten,
too, the name of Gillian, the lovely captive. And the Wandering Singer
is to them but the Wandering Singer, not Martin Pippin the Minstrel.
Worse and worse, he is even presumed to be the captive's sweetheart,
who wheedles the flower, the ring, and the prison-key out of the strict
virgins for his own purposes, and flies with her at last in his shallop
across the sea, to live with her happily ever after. But this is a fallacy.
Martin Pippin never wheedled anything out of anybody for his own
purposes--in fact, he had none of his own. On this adventure he was
about the business of young Robin Rue. There are further

discrepancies; for the Emperor's Daughter was not an emperor's
daughter, but a farmer's; nor was the Sea the sea, but a duckpond;
nor---
But let us begin with the children's version, as they sing and dance it on

summer days and evenings in Adversane.
THE SINGING-GAME OF "THE SPRING-GREEN LADY"
(The Emperor's Daughter sits weeping in her Tower. Around her, with
their backs to her, stand six maids in a ring, with joined hands. They
are in green dresses. The Wandering Singer approaches them with his
lute.)
THE WANDERING SINGER
Lady, lady, my spring-green lady,

May I come into your orchard, lady?
For the leaf is now on the
apple-bough
And the sun is high and the lawn is shady,
Lady, lady,

My fair lady!
O my spring-green lady!
THE LADIES
You may not come into our orchard, singer,

Because we must guard the Emperor's Daughter
Who hides in her
hair at the windows there
With her thoughts a thousand leagues over
the water,
Singer, singer,
Wandering singer,
O my honey-sweet
singer!
THE WANDERING SINGER
Lady, lady, my spring-green lady,

But will you not hear an Alba, lady?
I'll play for you now neath the
apple-bough
And you shall dance on the lawn so shady,
Lady, lady,

My fair lady,
O my spring-green lady!
THE LADIES
O if you play us an Alba, singer,
How can that harm
the Emperor's Daughter?
No word would she say though we danced
all day,
With her thoughts a thousand leagues over the water,

Singer, singer,
Wandering singer,
O my honey-sweet singer!
THE WANDERING SINGER
But if I play you an Alba, lady,

Get me a boon from the Emperor's Daughter--
The flower from her
hair for my heart to wear
Though hers be a thousand leagues over the
water,
Lady, lady,
My fair lady,
O my spring-green lady!

THE LADIES
(They give him the flower from the hair of the
Emperor's Daughter, and sing--)
Now you may play us an Alba,
singer,
A dance of dawn for a spring-green lady,
For the leaf is now
on the apple-bough,
And the sun is high and the lawn is shady,

Singer, singer,
Wandering singer,
O my honey-sweet singer!
The Wandering Singer plays on his lute, and The Ladies break their
ranks and dance. The Singer steals up behind The Emperor's Daughter,
who uncovers her face and sings--)
THE EMPEROR'S DAUGHTER
Mother, mother, my fair dead
mother,
They have stolen the flower from your weeping daughter!
THE WANDERING SINGER
O dry your eyes, you shall have this
other
When yours is a thousand leagues over the water,
Daughter,
daughter,
My sweet daughter!
Love is not far, my daughter!
The Singer then drops a second flower into the lap of the child in the
middle, and goes away, and this ends the first part of the game. The
Emperor's Daughter is not yet released, for the key of her tower is
understood to be still in the keeping of the dancing children. Very
likely it is bed-time by this, and mothers are calling from windows and
gates, and the children must run home to their warm bread-and-milk
and their cool sheets. But if time is still to spare, the second part of the
game is played like this. The dancers once more encircle their weeping
comrade, and now they are gowned in white and pink. They will
indicate these changes perhaps by colored ribbons, or by any flower in
its season, or by imagining themselves first in green and then in rose,
which is really the best way of all. Well then--
(The Ladies, in gowns of white and rose-color, stand around The
Emperor's Daughter, weeping in her Tower. To them once more comes
The Wandering Singer with his lute.)
THE WANDERING SINGER
Lady, lady, my rose-white lady,

May I come into your orchard, lady?
For the blossom's now on the

apple-bough
And the stars are near and the lawn is shady,
Lady,
lady,
My fair lady,
O my rose-white lady!
THE LADIES
You may not come into our orchard, singer,
Lest
you bear a word to the Emperor's Daughter
>From one who was sent
to banishment
Away a thousand leagues over the water,
Singer,
singer,
Wandering singer,
O