The Little Dream | Page 7

Inn hangs a full golden moon. Against the wall, under the glimmer of a lamp, leans a youth with the face of THE WINE HORN, in a crimson dock, thrumming a mandolin, and singing:
"Little star soul Through the frost fields of night Roaming alone, disconsolate-- From out the cold I call thee in Striking my dark mandolin Beneath this moon of gold."
From the Inn comes a burst of laughter, and the sound of dancing.
SEELCHEN: [Whispering] It is the big world!
The Youth of THE WINE HORN sings On:
"Pretty grey moth, Where the strange candles shine, Seeking for warmth, so desperate-- Ah! fluttering dove I bid thee win Striking my dark mandolin The crimson flame of love."
SEELCHEN. [Gazing enraptured at the Inn] They are dancing!
As SHE speaks, from either side come moth-children, meeting and fluttering up the path of light to the Inn doorway; then wheeling aside, they form again, and again flutter forward.
SEELCHEN. [Holding out her hands] They are real! Their wings are windy.
The Youth of THE WINE HORN sings on;
"Lips of my song, To the white maiden's heart Go ye, and whisper, passionate. These words that burn 'O listening one! Love that flieth past is gone Nor ever may return!'"
SEELCHEN runs towards him--but the light above him fades; he has become shadow. She turns bewildered to the dancing moth- children--but they vanish before her. At the door of the Inn stands LAMOND in a dark cloak.
SEELCHEN. It is you!
LAMOND. Without my little soul I am cold. Come! [He holds out his arms to her]
SEELCHEN. Shall I be safe?
LAMOND. What is safety? Are you safe in your mountains?
SEELCHEN. Where am I, here?
LAMOND. The Town.
Smiling, he points to the doorway. And silent as shadows there come dancing out, two by two, two girls and two youths. The first girl is dressed in white satin and jewels; and the first youth in black velvet. The second girl is in rags, and a shawl; and the second youth in shirt and corduroys. They dance gravely, each couple as if in a world apart.
SEELCHEN. [Whispering] In the mountains all dance together. Do they never change partners?
LAMOND. How could they, little one? Those are rich, these poor. But see!
A CORYBANTIC COUPLE come dancing forth. The girl has bare limbs. a flame-coloured shift, and hair bound with red flowers; the youth wears a panther-skin. They pursue not only each other. but the other girls and youths. For a moment all is a furious medley. Then the Corybantic Couple vanish into the Inn, and the first two couples are left, slowly, solemnly dancing, apart from each other as before.
SEELCHEN. [Shuddering] Shall I one day dance like that?
The Youth of THE WINE HORN appears again beneath the lamp. He strikes a loud chord; then as SEELCHEN moves towards that sound the lamp goes out; there is again only blue shadow; but the couples have disappeared into the Inn, and the doorway has grown dark.
SEELCHEN. Ah! What I do not like, he will not let me see.
LAMOND. Will you not come, then, little soul?
SEELCHEN. Always to dance?
LAMOND: Not so!
THE SHUTTERS of the houses are suddenly thrown wide. In a lighted room on one aide of the Inn are seen two pale men and a woman, amongst many clicking machines. On the other side of the Inn, in a forge, are visible two women and a man, but half clothed, making chains.
SEELCHEN. [Recoiling from both sights, in turn] How sad they look --all! What are they making?
In the dark doorway of the Inn a light shines out, and in it is seen a figure, visible only from the waist up, clad in gold-cloth studded with jewels, with a flushed complacent face, holding in one hand a glass of golden wine.
SEELCHEN. It is beautiful. What is it?
LAMOND. Luxury.
SEELCHEN. What is it standing on? I cannot see.
Unseen, THE WINE HORN'S mandolin twangs out.
LAMOND. For that do not look, little soul.
SEELCHEN. Can it not walk? [He shakes his head] Is that all they make here with their sadness?
But again the mandolin twangs out; the shutters fall over the houses; the door of the Inn grows dark.
LAMOND. What is it, then, you would have? Is it learning? There are books here, that, piled on each other, would reach to the stars! [But SEELCHEN shakes her head] There is religion so deep that no man knows what it means. [But SEELCHEN shakes her head] There is religion so shallow, you may have it by turning a handle. We have everything.
SEELCHEN. Is God here?
LAMOND. Who knows? Is God with your goats? [But SEELCHEN shakes her head] What then do you want?
SEELCHEN. Life.
The mandolin twangs out.
LAMOND. [Pointing to his breast] There is but one road to life.
SEELCHEN. Ah! but I do not love.
LAMOND. When a feather dies, is it not loving the wind--the unknown? When the day brings