The Little Dream: An Allegory in Six Scenes. Galsworthy John

No. I am not wise. In here it is always aching.

      LAMOND. For the moon?

      SEELCHEN. Yes. [Then suddenly] From the big world you will remember?

      LAMOND. [Taking her hand] There is nothing in the big world so sweet as this.

      SEELCHEN. [Wisely] But there is the big world itself.

      LAMOND. May I kiss you, for good-night?

      She puts her face forward; and he kisses her cheek, and, suddenly, her lips. Then as she draws away.

      LAMOND. I am sorry, little soul.

      SEELCHEN. That's all right!

      LAMOND. [Taking the candle] Dream well! Goodnight!

      SEELCHEN. [Softly] Good-night!

      FELSMAN. [Coming in from the air, and eyeing them] It is cold – it will be fine.

      LAMOND still looking back goes up the stairs; and FELSMAN waits for him to pass.

      SEELCHEN. [From the window seat] It was hard for him here. I thought.

      He goes up to her, stays a moment looking down then bends and kisses her hungrily.

      SEELCHEN. Art thou angry?

      He does not answer, but turning out the lamp, goes into an inner room. SEELCHEN sits gazing through the window at the peaks bathed in full moonlight. Then, drawing the blankets about her, she snuggles doom on the window seat.

      SEELCHEN. [In a sleepy voice] They kissed me – both. [She sleeps]

      The scene falls quite dark

      SCENE II

      The scene is slowly illumined as by dawn. SEELCHEN is still lying on the window seat. She sits up, freeing her face and hands from the blankets, changing the swathings of deep sleep for the filmy coverings of a dream. The wall of the hut has vanished; there is nothing between her and the three mountains veiled in mist, save a through of darkness. There, as the peaks of the mountains brighten, they are seen to have great faces.

      SEELCHEN. Oh! They have faces!

      The face of THE WINE HORN is the profile of a beardless youth. The face of THE COW HORN is that of a mountain shepherd. solemn, and broom, with fierce black eyes, and a black beard. Between them THE GREAT HORN, whose hair is of snow, has a high. beardless visage, as of carved bronze, like a male sphinx, serene, without cruelty. Far down below the faces of the peaks. above the trough of darkness, are peeping out the four little heads of the flowers of EDELWEISS, and GENTIAN, MOUNTAIN DANDELION, and ALPENROSE; on their heads are crowns made of their several flowers, all powdered with dewdrops; and when THE FLOWERS lift their child-faces little tinkling bells ring.

      All around the peaks there is nothing but blue sky.