The Little Dream | Page 6

sound of falling rocks, the running of
the torrents; no other talk know I. Thoughts simple, and blood hot,
strength huge--the cloak of gravity.
SEELCHEN. Yes. yes! I want him. He is strong!
The voices of COWBELLS and MOUNTAIN AIR cry out together:
"Clinkel-clink! Clinkel-clink!"
"Mountain air! Mountain air!"
THE COW HORN. Little soul! Hold to me! Love me! Live with me
under the stars!
SEELCHEN. [Below her breath] I am afraid.
And suddenly the Peak of THE WINE HORN speaks in a youth's
voice.
THE WINE HORN. I am the will o' the wisp that dances thro' the
streets; I am the cooing dove of Towns, from the plane trees and the
chestnuts' shade. From day to day all changes, where I burn my incense
to my thousand little gods. In white palaces I dwell, and passionate
dark alleys. The life of men in crowds is mine--of lamplight in the
streets at dawn. [Softly] I have a thousand loves. and never one too
long; for I am nimbler than your heifers playing in the sunshine.
THE FLOWERS, ringing in alarm, cry:
"We know them!"
THE WINE HORN. I hear the rustlings of the birth and death of
pleasure; and the rattling of swift wheels. I hear the hungry oaths of
men; and love kisses in the airless night. Without me, little soul, you
starve and die,
SEELCHEN. He is speaking for the gentle Sir, and the big world of the
Town. It pulls my heart.

THE WINE HORN. My thoughts surpass in number the flowers in
your meadows; they fly more swiftly than your eagles on the wind. I
drink the wine of aspiration, and the drug of disillusion. Thus am I
never dull!
The voices of VIEW OF ITALY, FLUME OF STEAM, and THINGS
IN BOOKS are heard calling out together:
"I am Italy, Italy!"
"See me--steam in the distance!"
"O remember, remember!"
THE WINE HORN. Love me, little soul! I paint life fifty colours. I
make a thousand pretty things! I twine about your heart!
SEELCHEN. He is honey!
THE FLOWERS ring their bells jealously and cry:
"Bitter! Bitter!"
THE COW HORN. Stay with me, Seelchen! I wake thee with the
crystal air.
The voices of COWBELLS and MOUNTAIN AIR tiny out far away:
"Clinkel-clink! Clinkel-clink!"
"Mountain air! Mountain air!"
And THE FLOWERS laugh happily.
THE WINE HORN. Come with me, Seelchen! My fan, Variety, shall
wake you!
The voices of VIEW OF ITALY, FLUME OF STEAM and THINGS
IN BOOKS chant softly:
"I am Italy! Italy!"
"See me--steam in the distance!"
"O remember, remember!"
And THE FLOWERS moan.
SEELCHEN. [In grief] My heart! It is torn!
THE WINE HORN. With me, little soul, you shall race in the streets.
and peep at all secrets. We will hold hands, and fly like the
thistle-down.
M. DANDELION. My puff-balls fly faster!
THE WINE HORN. I will show you the sea.
GENTIAN. My blue is deeper!
THE WINE HORN. I will shower on you blushes.
ALPENROSE. I can blush redder!

THE WINE HORN. Little soul, listen! My Jewels! Silk! Velvet!
EDELWEISS. I am softer than velvet!
THE WINE HORN. [Proudly] My wonderful rags!
THE FLOWERS. [Moaning] Of those we have none.
SEELCHEN. He has all things.
THE COW HORN. Mine are the clouds with the dark silvered wings;
mine are the rocks on fire with the sun; and the dewdrops cooler than
pearls. Away from my breath of snow and sweet grass, thou wilt droop,
little soul.
THE WINE HORN. The dark Clove is my fragrance!
THE FLOWERS ring eagerly, and turning up their faces, cry:
"We too, smell sweet."
But the voices of VIEW OF ITALY, FLUME OF STEAM, and
THINGS IN BOOKS cry out:
"I am Italy! Italy!"
"See me--steam in the distance!"
"O remember! remember!"
SEELCHEN. [Distracted] Oh! it is hard!
THE COW HORN. I will never desert thee.
THE WINE HORN. A hundred times I will desert you, a hundred times
come back, and kiss you.
SEELCHEN. [Whispering] Peace for my heart!
THE COW HORN. With me thou shalt lie on the warm wild thyme.
THE FLOWERS laugh happily.
THE WINE HORN. With me you shall lie on a bed of dove's feathers.
THE FLOWERS moan.
THE WINE HORN. I will give you old wine.
THE COW HORN. I will give thee new milk.
THE WINE HORN. Hear my song!
From far away comes the sound as of mandolins.
SEELCHEN. [Clasping her breast] My heart--it is leaving me!
THE COW HORN. Hear my song!
From the distance floats the piping of a Shepherd's reed.
SEELCHEN. [Curving her hand at her ears] The piping! Ah!
THE COW HORN. Stay with me, Seelchen!
THE WINE HORN. Come with me, Seelchen!
THE COW HORN. I give thee certainty!

THE WINE HORN. I give you chance!
THE COW HORN. I give thee