Martin Pippin in the Apple Orchard | Page 5

my honey-sweet singer!
THE WANDERING SINGER
Lady, lady, my rose-white lady,

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

My fair lady,
O my rose-white lady!
THE LADIES
O if you play us a Roundel, singer,
How can that
harm the Emperor's Daughter?
She would not speak though we
danced a week,
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 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