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 peace.
THE WINE HORN. I give you change.
THE COW HORN. I give thee stillness.
THE WINE HORN. I give you voice.
THE COW HORN. I give thee one love.
THE WINE HORN. I give you many.
SEELCHEN. [As if the words were torn from her heart] Both, both – I will love!
And suddenly the Peak of THE GREAT HORN speaks.
THE GREAT HORN. And both thou shalt love, little soul! Thou shalt lie on the hills with Silence; and dance in the cities with Knowledge. Both shall possess thee! The sun and the moon on the mountains shall burn thee; the lamps of the town singe thy wings. small Moth! Each shall seem all the world to thee, each shall seem as thy grave! Thy heart is a feather blown from one mouth to the other. But be not afraid! For the life of a man is for all loves in turn. 'Tis a little raft moored, then sailing out into the blue; a tune caught in a hush, then whispering on; a new-born babe, half courage and half sleep. There is a hidden rhythm. Change. Quietude. Chance. Certainty. The One. The Many. Burn on – thou pretty flame, trying to eat the world! Thou shaft come to me at last, my little soul!
THE VOICES and THE FLOWER-BELLS peal out. SEELCHEN, enraptured, stretches her arms to embrace the sight and sound, but all fades slowly into dark sleep.
SCENE III
The dark scene again becomes glamorous. SEELCHEN is seen with her hand stretched out towards the Piazza of a little town, with a plane tree on one side, a wall on the other, and from the open doorway of an Inn a pale path of light. Over the 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?