The Little Dream | Page 4

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THE MOUNTAIN DANDELION |

VOICES AND FIGURES IN THE DREAM

COWBELLS MOUNTAIN AIR FAR VIEW OF ITALY DISTANT
FLUME OF STEAM THINGS IN BOOKS MOTH CHILDREN
THREE DANCING YOUTHS THREE DANCING GIRLS THE
FORMS OF WORKERS THE FORMS OF WHAT IS MADE BY
WORK DEATH BY SLUMBER DEATH BY DROWNING FLOWER
CHILDREN GOATHERD GOAT BOYS GOAT GOD THE FORMS
OF SLEEP

SCENE I
It is just after sunset of an August evening. The scene is a room in a
mountain hut, furnished only with a table, benches. and a low broad
window seat. Through this window three rocky peaks are seen by the
light of a moon which is slowly whitening the last hues of sunset. An
oil lamp is burning. SEELCHEN, a mountain girl, eighteen years old, is
humming a folk-song, and putting away in a cupboard freshly washed
soup-bowls and glasses. She is dressed in a tight-fitting black velvet
bodice. square-cut at the neck and partly filled in with a gay
handkerchief, coloured rose-pink, blue, and golden, like the alpen-rose,
the gentian, and the mountain dandelion; alabaster beads, pale as
edelweiss, are round her throat; her stiffened. white linen sleeves finish
at the elbow; and her full well-worn skirt is of gentian blue. The two
thick plaits of her hair are crossed, and turned round her head. As she
puts away the last bowl, there is a knock; and LAMOND opens the
outer door. He is young, tanned, and good-looking, dressed like a
climber, and carries a plaid, a ruck-sack, and an ice-axe.
LAMOND. Good evening!
SEELCHEN. Good evening, gentle Sir!
LAMOND. My name is Lamond. I'm very late I fear.
SEELCHEN. Do you wish to sleep here?
LAMOND. Please.
SEELCHEN. All the beds are full--it is a pity. I will call Mother.
LAMOND. I've come to go up the Great Horn at sunrise.
SEELCHEN. [Awed] The Great Horn! But he is impossible.
LAMOND. I am going to try that.
SEELCHEN. There is the Wine Horn, and the Cow Horn.
LAMOND. I have climbed them.
SEELCHEN. But he is so dangerous--it is perhaps--death.

LAMOND. Oh! that's all right! One must take one's chance.
SEELCHEN. And father has hurt his foot. For guide, there is only
Mans Felsman.
LAMOND. The celebrated Felsman?
SEELCHEN. [Nodding; then looking at him with admiration] Are you
that Herr Lamond who has climbed all our little mountains this year?
LAMOND. All but that big fellow.
SEELCHEN. We have heard of you. Will you not wait a day for
father's foot?
LAMOND. Ah! no. I must go back home to-morrow.
SEELCHEN. The gracious Sir is in a hurry.
LAMOND. [Looking at her intently] Alas!
SEELCHEN. Are you from London? Is it very big?
LAMOND. Six million souls.
SEELCHEN. Oh! [After a little pause] I have seen Cortina twice.
LAMOND. Do you live here all the year?
SEELCHEN. In winter in the valley.
LAMOND. And don't you want to see the world?
SEELCHEN. Sometimes. [Going to a door, she calls softly] Hans!
[Then pointing to another door] There are seven German gentlemen
asleep in there!
LAMOND. Oh God!
SEELCHEN. Please? They are here to see the sunrise. [She picks up a
little book that has dropped from LAMOND'S pocket] I have read
several books.
LAMOND. This is by the great English poet. Do you never make
poetry here, and dream dreams, among your mountains?
SEELCHEN. [Slowly shaking her head] See! It is the full moon.
While they stand at the window looking at the moon, there enters a lean,
well-built, taciturn young man dressed in Loden.
SEELCHEN. Hans!
FELSMAN. [In a deep voice] The gentleman wishes me?
SEELCHEN. [Awed] The Great Horn for to-morrow! [Whispering to
him] It is the celebrated London one.
FELSMAN. The Great Horn is not possible.
LAMOND. You say that? And you're the famous Felsman?
FELSMAN. [Grimly] We start at dawn.

SEELCHEN. It is the first time for years!
LAMOND. [Placing his plaid and rucksack on the window bench] Can
I sleep here?
SEELCHEN. I will see; perhaps--
[She runs out up some stairs]
FELSMAN. [Taking blankets from the cupboard and spreading them
on the window seat] So!
As he goes out into the air. SEELCHEN comes slipping in again with a
lighted candle.
SEELCHEN. There is still one bed. This is too hard for you.
LAMOND. Oh! thanks; but that's all right.
SEELCHEN. To please me!
LAMOND. May I ask your name?
SEELCHEN. Seelchen.
LAMOND. Little soul, that means--doesn't it? To please you I would
sleep with seven German gentlemen.
SEELCHEN. Oh! no; it is not necessary.
LAMOND. [With. a grave bow] At your service, then. [He prepares to
go]
SEELCHEN. Is it very nice in towns, in the World, where you come
from?
LAMOND. When I'm there I would be here; but when I'm here I would
be there.
SEELCHEN.