The Piper - BestLightNovel.com
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And would you fear to go with him?--
BARBARA No, no!
PIPER Then reach to him that little hand of yours.
[MICHAEL, wonder-struck, runs to the jar, pours water upon his hand, rubs it off with haste, and falls on his knees before her, taking her hand fearfully.
BARBARA [timidly]
And can he talk?--
PIPER Yes, yes.--The maid's bewildered.
Fear nothing. Thou'rt so dumb, man!--Yes, yes, yes.
Only he kneels; he cannot yet believe.
Speak roundly to him.--Will you go with him?
He will be gentler to you than a father: He would be brothers five, and dearest friend, And sweetheart,--ay, and knight and serving-man!
BARBARA Yes, yes, I know he will. And can he talk, too?
PIPER Lady, you have bewitched him.
MICHAEL Oh! dear Lady, With you--with you, I dare not ope my mouth Saving to sing, or pray!
PIPER Let it be singing!
Lad, 't is a wildered maiden, with no home Save only thee; and she is more a child Than yesterday.
MICHAEL Oh, lordly, wondrous world!-- How is it, Sweet, you smile upon me now?
BARBARA Sure I have ever smiled on thee. How not?
Art thou not Michael?--_And thou lovest me_.
_And I love thee_!--If I unloved thee ever, It was some spell.-- [Rapturously]
But this,--ah, _This is I_!
[MICHAEL, on his knees, winds his arms about her.
PIPER [softly]
It is all true,--all true. Lad, do not doubt; The golden cage is broken.
MICHAEL Oh! more strange Than morning dreams! I am like one new-born; I am a speechless babe.--And this is she, My Moon I cried for,--here,--
PIPER It is thy bride.
MICHAEL Thou wilt not fear to come with me?
BARBARA With thee?
With thee! Ah, look! What have I more than thee?
And thou art mine, tall fellow! How comes it now Right happily that I am pranked so fair!
[She touches her fineries, her long pearl-strings, joyously]
And all this came so near to burying; This!
MICHAEL And this dearer gold.
[Kissing her hair.]
BARBARA All, all for thee!-- [She leans over in a playful rapture and binds her hair about him]
Look,--I will be thy garden that we lost, Yea, everywhere,--in every wilderness.
There shall none fright us with a flaming sword!
But I will be thy garden!
[There is the sound of a herd-bell approaching.
PIPER See,--how the sunlight soon shall pour red wine To make your marriage-feast!--And do you hear That faery bell?--No fear!--'T is some white creature, Seeking her whiter lamb.--Go; find our hermit; And he shall bless you,--as a hermit can!
And be your pledge for shelter. There's the path.-- [To MICHAEL]
Follow each other, close!
MICHAEL Beyond the Sun!
PIPER A golden afternoon,--and all is well!
[He gives MICHAEL his cloak to wrap round BARBARA. They go, hand in hand, up into the hills, The herd-bell sounds softly.--The PIPER c.o.c.ks his head like a squirrel, and listens with delight. He watches the two till they disappear; then comes down joyously.
PIPER If you can only catch them while they're young!
[The herd-bell sounds nearer. He lets down a water-jar into the well again. The nearness of the h.e.l.l startles him. He becomes watchful as a wild creature. It sounds nearer and nearer. A woman's voice calls like the wind: 'Jan! Jan!'-- The PIPER, tense and cautious, moves softly down into the shrubbery by the well.
VERONIKA'S VOICE Jan!
PIPER Hist! Who dared?
VERONIKA'S VOICE . . . Jan!--
PIPER Who dared, I say?
A woman.--'T is a woman!
[Enter VERONIKA, on the road from Hamelin. She is very pale and worn, and drags herself along, clutching in her hand a herd-bell.
She looks about her, holds up the bell and shakes it once softly, covering it with her fingers again; then she sits wearily down at the foot of the ruined shrine and covers her face, with a sharp breath.
VERONIKA . . . Ah,--ah,--ah!
[The PIPER watches with breathless wonder and fascination. It seems to horrify him.
PIPER [under breath]
That woman!
[VERONIKA lifts her head suddenly and sees the motion of the bushes.
VERONIKA He is coming!--He is here!
[She darts towards the well.--The PIPER springs up.
Oh, G.o.d of Mercy! . . . It is only you!
Where is he?--Where?--Where are you hiding him?
PIPER [confusedly]
Woman . . . what do you, wandering, with that bell?
