this ebook was one of project gutenberg's early files produced at a time when proofing methods and tools were not well developed. there is an improved edition of this title which may be viewed as ebook (#1514) at https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1514 ******************************************************************* ******************************************************************* this ebook was one of project gutenberg's early files produced at a time when proofing methods and tools were not well developed. there is an improved edition of this title which may be viewed as ebook (#1514) at https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1514 ******************************************************************* little blue book no. 335 edited by e. haldeman-julius the land of heart's desire w.b. yeats haldeman-julius company girard, kansas printed in the united states of america the land of heart's desire persons maurteen bruin. shawn bruin. father hart. bridget bruin. maire bruin. a faery child. _the scene is laid in the barony of kilmacowen in the county of sligo, and the time is the end of eighteenth century. the characters are supposed to speak in gaelic._ the land of heart's desire _the kitchen of_ maurteen brain's _house. an open grate with a turf fire is at the left side of the room, with a table in front of it. there is a door leading to the open air at the back, and another door a little to its left, leading into an inner room. there is a window, a settle, and a large dresser on the right side of the room, and a great bowl of primroses on the sill of the window._ maurteen bruin, father hart; _and_ bridget bruin _are sitting at the table._ shawn bruin _is setting the table for supper._ maire bruin _sits on the settle reading a yellow manuscript._ bridget bruin. because i bade her go and feed the calves, she took that old book down out of the thatch and has been doubled over it all day. we would be deafened by her groans and moans had she to work as some do, father hart, get up at dawn like me, and mend and scour; or ride abroad in the boisterous night like you, the pyx and blessed bread under your arm. shawn bruin. you are too cross. bridget bruin. the young side with the young. maurteen bruin. she quarrels with my wife a bit at times, and is too deep just now in the old book; but do not blame her greatly; she will grow as quiet as a puff-ball in a tree when but the moons of marriage dawn and die for half a score of times. father hart their hearts are wild as be the hearts of birds, till children come. bridget bruin. she would not mind the griddle, milk the cow, or even lay the knives and spread the cloth. father hart. i never saw her read a book before: what may it be? maurteen bruin. i do not rightly know: it has been in the thatch for fifty years. my father told me my grandfather wrote it, killed a red heifer and bound it with the hide. but draw your chair this way--supper is spread; and little good he got out of the book, because it filled his house with roaming bards, and roaming ballad-makers and the like, and wasted all his goods.--here is the wine; the griddle bread's beside you, father hart. colleen, what have you got there in the book that you must leave the bread to cool? had i, or had my father, read or written books there were no stockings full of silver and gold to come, when i am dead, to shawn and you. father hart. you should not fill your head with foolish dreams. what are you reading? maire bruin. how a princess edene, a daughter of a king of ireland, heard a voice singing on a may eve like this, and followed, half awake and half asleep, until she came into the land of faery, where nobody gets old and godly and grave, where nobody gets old and crafty and wise, where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue; and she is still there, busied with a dance. deep in the dewy shadow of a wood, or where stars walk upon a mountain top. maurteen bruin. persuade the colleen to put by the book: my grandfather would mutter just such things, and he was no judge of a dog or horse, and any idle boy could blarney him. just speak your mind. father hart. put it away, my colleen. god spreads the heavens above us like great wings, and gives a little round of deeds and days, and then come the wrecked angels and set snares, and bait them with light hopes and heavy dreams, until the heart is puffed with pride and goes, half shuddering and half joyous, from god's peace; and it was some wrecked angel, blind tears, who flattered edene's heart with merry words. my colleen, i have seen some other girls restless and ill at ease, but years went by and they grew like their neighbours and were glad in minding children, working at the churn, and gossiping of weddings and of wakes; for life moves out of a red flare of dreams into a common light of common hours, until old age bring the red flare again. shawn bruin. yet do not blame her greatly, father hart, for she is dull while i am in the fields, and mother's tongue were harder still to bear, but for her fancies: this is may eve too, when the good people post about the world, and surely one may think of them to-night. maire, have you the primroses to fling before the door to make a golden path for them to bring good luck into the house. remember, they may steal new-married brides upon may eve. maire bruin _(going over to the window and taking the flowers from the bowl.)_ here are the primroses. [_she goes to the door and strews the primroses outside._ father hart. you do well, daughter, because god permits great power to the good people on may eve. maurteen bruin. they can work all their will with primroses-change them to golden money, or little flames to burn up those who do them any wrong. maire bruin. i had no sooner flung them by the door than the wind cried and hurried them away. bridget bruin. may god have mercy on us! maire bruin. the good people will not be lucky to the house this year, but i am glad that i was courteous to them, for are not they, likewise, children of god? father hart. no, child; they are the children of the fiend, and they have power until the end of time, when god shall fight with them a great pitched battle and hack them into pieces. maire bruin. he will smile, father, perhaps, and open his great door, father hart. did but the lawless angels see that door they would fall, slain by everlasting peace; and when such angels knock upon our doors who goes with them must drive through the same storm. [_a knock at the door._ maire bruin _opens it and then goes to the dresser and fills a porringer with milk and hands it through the door and takes it back empty and closes the door._ maire bruin. a little queer old woman cloaked in green who came to beg a porringer of milk. bridget bruin. the good people go asking milk and fire upon may eve--woe on the house that gives for they have power upon it for a year. i knew you would bring evil on the house maurteen bruin. who was she? maire bruin. both the tongue and face were strange. maurteen bruin. some strangers came last week to clover hill; she must be one of them. bridget bruin. i am afraid. maurteen bruin. the priest will keep all harm out of the house. father hart. the cross will keep all harm out of the house while it hangs there. maurteen bruin. come, sit beside me, colleen, and cut away your dreams of discontent, for i would have you light up my last days like a bright torch of pine, and when i die i will make you the wealthiest hereabout; for hid away where nobody can find i have a stocking full of silver and gold. bridget bruin. you are the fool of every pretty face, and i must pinch and pare that my son's wife may have all kinds of ribbons for her head. maurteen bruin. do not be cross; she is a right good girl! the butter's by your elbow, father hart. my colleen, have not fate and time and change done well for me and for old bridget there? we have a hundred acres of good land, and sit beside each other at the fire, the wise priest of our parish to our right, and you and our dear son to left of us. to sit beside the board and drink good wine and watch the turf smoke coiling from the fire and feel content and wisdom in your heart, this is the best of life; when we are young we long to tread a way none trod before, but find the excellent old way through love and through the care of children to the hour for bidding fate and time and change good-bye. [a _knock at the door._ maire bruin _opens it and then takes a sod of turf out of the hearth in the tongs and passes it through the door and closes the door and remains standing by it._ maire bruin. a little queer old man in a green coat, who asked a burning sod to light his pipe. bridget bruin. you have now given milk and fire and brought for all you know, evil upon the house. before you married you were idle and fine, and went about with ribbons on your head; and now you are a good-for-nothing wife. shawn bruin. be quiet, mother! maurteen bruin. you are much too cross! maire bruin. what do i care if i have given this house, where i must hear all day a bitter tongue, into the power of faeries! bridget bruin. you know, well how calling the good people by that name or talking of them over much at all may bring all kinds of evil on the house. maire bruin. come, faeries, take me out of this dull house! let me have all the freedom i have lost-work when i will and idle when i will! faeries, came take me out of this dull world, for i would ride with you upon the wind, run on the top of the dishevelled tide, and dance upon the mountains like a flame! father hart. you cannot know the meaning of your words! maire bruin. father, i am right weary of four tongues: a tongue that is too crafty and too wise, a tongue that is too godly and too grave, a tongue that is more bitter than the tide, and a kind tongue too full of drowsy love, of drowsy love and my captivity. [shawn bruin _comes over to her and leads her to the settle._ shawn bruin. do not blame me: i often lie awake thinking that all things trouble your bright head-how beautiful it is--such broad pale brows under a cloudy blossoming of hair! sit down beside me here--these are too old, and have forgotten they were ever young. maire bruin. o, you are the great door-post of this house, and i the red nasturtium climbing up. [_she takes_ shawn's _hand but looks shyly at the priest and lets it go._ father hart. good daughter, take his hand--by love alone god binds us to himself and to the hearth and shuts us from the waste beyond his peace, from maddening freedom and bewildering light. shawn bruin. would that the world were mine to give it you with every quiet hearth and barren waste, the maddening freedom of its woods and tides, and the bewildering lights upon its hills. maire bruin. then i would take and break it in my hands to see you smile watching it crumble away. shawn bruin. then i would mould a world of fire and dew with no one bitter, grave, or over wise, and nothing marred or old to do you wrong. and crowd the enraptured quiet of the sky with candles burning to your lonely face. maire bruin. your looks are all the candles that i need. shawn bruin. once a fly dancing in a beam o' the sun, or the light wind blowing out of the dawn, could fill your heart with dreams none other knew, but now the indissoluble sacrament has mixed your heart that was most proud and cold with my warm heart for ever; and sun and moor, must fade and heaven be rolled up like a scroll; but your white spirit still walk by my spirit. for not a power in earth and heaven and hell can break this bond binding heart unto heart. [a voice _sings in the distance._ maire bruin. did you hear something call? o, guard me close, because i have said wicked things to-night. a voice (_close to the door_). the wind blows out of the gates of the day, the wind blows over the lonely of heart and the lonely of heart is withered away, while the faeries dance in a place apart, shaking their milk-white feet in a ring, tossing their milk-white arms in the air; for they hear the wind laugh, and murmur, and sing of a land where even the old are fair, and even the wise are merry of tongue; but i heard a reed of coolaney say, 'when the wind has laughed and murmured and sung, the lonely of heart must wither away!' maurteen bruin. i am right happy, and would make all else be happy too. i hear a child outside, and will go bring her in out of the cold. [_he opens the door. a_ child _dressed in a green jacket with a red cap comes into the house._ the child. i tire of winds and waters and pale lights! maurteen bruin. you are most welcome. it is cold out there, who'd think to face such cold on a may eve. the child. and when i tire of this warm little house, there is one here who must away, away, to where the woods, the stars, and the white streams are holding a continual festival. maurteen bruin. o listen to her dreamy and strange talk, come to the fire. the child. i'll sit upon your knee, for i have run from where the winds are born, and long-to rest my feet a little while. [_she sits upon his knee._ bridget bruin. how pretty you are! maurteen bruin. your hair is wet with dew! bridget bruin. i'll chafe your poor chilled feet. maurteen bruin. you must have come a long long way, for i have never seen your pretty face, and must be tired and hungry; here is some bread and wine. the child. they are both nasty. old mother, have you nothing nice for me? bridget bruin. i have some honey! [_she goes into the next room._ maurteen bruin. you are a dear child; the mother was quite cross before you came. [bridget _returns with the honey, and goes to the dresser and fills a porringer with milk._ bridget bruin. she is the child of gentle people; look at her white hands and at her pretty dress. i've brought you some new milk, but wait awhile and i will put it by the fire to warm, for things well fitted for poor folk like us would never please a high-born child like you. the child. old mother, my old mother, the green dawn brightens above while you blow up the fire; and evening finds you spreading the white cloth. the young may lie in bed and dream and hope, but you work on because your heart is old. bridget bruin. the young are idle. the child. old father, you are wise, and all the years have gathered in your heart to whisper of the wonders that are gone. the young must sigh through many a dream and hope, but you are wise because your heart is old. maurteen bruin. o, who would think to find so young a child loving old age and wisdom. [bridget _gives her more bread and honey._ the child. no more, mother. maurteen bruin. what a small bite; the milk is ready now; what a small sip! the child. put on my shoes, old mother, for i would like to dance now i have dined. the reeds are dancing by coolaney lake, and i would like to dance until the reeds and the loud wind, the white wave on the shore, and all the stars have danced themselves to sleep. [bridget _having put on her shoes, she gets off the old man's knees and is about to dance, but suddenly sees the crucifix and shrieks and covers her eyes._ what is that ugly thing on the black cross? father hart. you cannot know how naughty your words are! that is our blessed lord! the child. hide it away! bridget bruin. i have begun to be afraid again! the child. hide it away! maurteen bruin. that would be wickedness! bridget bruin. that would be sacrilege! the child the tortured thing! hide it away. maurteen bruin. her parents are to blame. father hart. that is the image of the son of god. [_the_ child _puts her arm round his neck lovingly and kisses him. the child. hide it away! hide it away! maurteen bruin. no! no! father hart. because you are so young and little a child i will go take it down. the child. hide it away, and cover it out of sight and out of mind. father hart (_takes it down and carries it towards the inner room)._ since you have come into this barony i will instruct you in our blessed faith: being a clever child you will soon learn. (_to the others.) we must be tender with all budding things, our maker let no thought of calvary trouble the morning stars in their first song. [_puts the crucifix in the inner room._ the child. o, what a nice, smooth floor to dance upon! the wind is blowing on the waving reeds, the wind is blowing on the heart of man. [_she dances, swaying about like the reeds._ maire (_to_ shawn bruin). just now when she came near i thought i heard other small steps beating upon the floor, and a faint music blowing in the wind-invisible pipes giving her feet the time. shawn bruin. i heard no step but hers. maire bruin. look to the bolt! because the unholy powers are abroad. maurteen bruin (_to the_ child). come over here, and if you promise me not to talk wickedly of holy things i'll give you something. the child. bring it me, old father! [maurteen bruin _goes into the next room._ father hart. i will have queen cakes when you come to me! [maurteen bruin _returns and lays a piece of money on the table. the_ child _makes a gesture of refusal._ maurteen bruin. it will buy lots of toys; see how it glitters! the child. come, tell me, do you love me? maurteen bruin. i love you! the child. ah! but you love this fireside! father hart. i love you. the child. but you love him above. bridget bruin. she is blaspheming. the child (_to_ maire). and do you likewise love me? maire bruin. i don't know. the child. you love that great tall fellow over there: yet i could make you ride upon the winds, run on the top of the dishevelled tide, and dance upon the mountains like a flame! maire bruin. queen of the angels and kind saints defend us! some dreadful fate has fallen: before she came the wind cried out and took the primroses. and i gave milk and fire, and when she came she made you hide the blessed crucifix; she wears, too, the green jacket and red cap of the unholy creatures of the raths. father hart. you fear because of her wild, pretty prates; she knows no better. (_to the_ child) child, how old are you? the child. my own dear people live a long, long time, so i am young; but measure by your years and i am older than the eagle cock who blinks and blinks on ballydawley hill, and he's the oldest thing under the moon. at times i merely care to dance and dance-at times grow wiser than the eagle cock. father hart. what are you? the child. i am of the faery people. i sent my messengers for milk and fire, and then i heard one call to me and came. [_they all except_ maire bruin _gather about the priest for protection._ maire bruin _stays on the settle as if in a trance of terror. the_ child _takes primroses from the great bowl and begins to strew them between herself and the priest and about_ maire bruin. _during the following dialogue_ shawn bruin _goes more than once to the brink of the primroses, but shrinks back to the others timidly._ father hart. i will confront this mighty spirit alone. [_they cling to him and hold him back._ the child (_while she strews the primroses.) no one whose heart is heavy with human tears can cross these little cressets of the wood. father hart. be not afraid, the father is with us, and all the nine angelic hierarchies, the holy martyrs and the innocents, the adoring magi in their coats of mail, and he who died and rose on the third day, and mary with her seven times wounded heart. [_the_ child _ceases strewing the primroses, and kneels upon the settle beside_ maire _and puts her arms about her neck._ cry daughter to the angels and the saints. the child. you shall go with me, newly-married bride, and gaze upon a merrier multitude: white-armed nuala and ardroe the wise, feacra of the hurtling foam, and him who is the ruler of the western host, finvarra, and their land of heart's desire, where beauty has no ebb, decay no flood, but joy is wisdom, time an endless song. i kiss you and the world begins to fade. father hart. daughter, i call you unto home and love! the child. stay, and come with me, newly-married bride, for, if you hear him, you grow like the rest: bear children, cook, be mindful of the churn, and wrangle over butter, fowl, and eggs, and sit at last there, old and bitter of tongue, watching the white stars war upon your hopes. father hart. daughter, i point you out the way to heaven! the child. but i can lead you, newly-married bride, where nobody gets old and crafty and wise, where nobody gets old and godly and grave, where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue, and where kind tongues bring no captivity, for we are only true to the far lights we follow singing, over valley and hill. father hart. by the dear name of the one crucified, i bid you, maire bruin, come to me. the child. i keep you in the name of your own heart! [_she leaves the settle, and stooping takes up a mass of primroses and kisses them._ we have great power to-night, dear golden folk for he took down and hid the crucifix. and my invisible brethren fill the house; i hear their footsteps going up and down. o, they shall soon rule all the hearts of men and own all lands; last night they merrily danced about his chapel belfrey! (_to_ maire.) come away, i hear my brethren bidding us away! father hart. i will go fetch the crucifix again. [_they hang about him in terror and prevent him from moving._ bridget bruin. the enchanted flowers will kill us if you go. maurteen bruin. they turn the flowers to little twisted flames. shawn bruin. the little twisted flames burn up the heart. the child. i hear them call us, newly-married bride. maire bruin. i will go with you. father hart. she is lost, alas, the child (_standing by the door_). then, follow but the heavy body of clay, and clinging mortal hope must fall from you; for we who ride the winds, run on the waves, and dance upon the mountains, are more light than dewdrops on the banners of the dawn. maire bruin. then take my soul. [shawn bruin _goes over to her._ shawn bruin. beloved, do not leave me! what will my life be if you go with her? remember when i met you by the well and took your hand in mine and spoke of love. maire bruin. dear face! dear voice! the child. come, newly-married bride! maire bruin. i always loved her world--and yet--and yet i think that i would stay if i could stay. [_sinks into his arms. the child (_from the door_). white bird, white bird, come with me, little bird! maire bruin. she calls my soul! the child. come with me, little bird! maire bruin. i can hear songs and dancing! shawn bruin. stay with me! maire bruin. dear, i would stay--and yet and yet-the child. white bird! come, little bird with crest of gold! maire bruin (_very softly_). and yet-the child. come, little bird with silver feet! shawn bruin. dead, dead! father hart. thus do the evil spirits snatch their prey almost out of the very hand of god; and day by day their power is more and more, and men and women leave old paths, for pride comes knocking with thin knuckles on the heart. a voice _sings outside_-the wind blows out of the gates of the day, the wind blows over the lonely of heart, and the lonely of heart is withered away, while the faeries dance in a place apart, shaking their milk-white feet in a ring, tossing their milk-white arms in the air; for they hear the wind laugh and murmur and sing of a land where even the old are fair, and even the wise are merry of tongue; but i heard a reed of coolaney say, 'when the wind has laughed and murmured and sung, the lonely of heart must wither away.' [_the song is taken up by many voices, who sing loudly, as if in triumph. some of the voices seem to come from within the house._ the land of heart's desire by w. b. yeats 1912 first edition ............................ 1894 second edition (in "poems" by w. b. yeats) 1895 third edition ,, ,, 1899 fourth edition ,, ,, 1901 fifth edition ,, ,, 1904 sixth edition ,, ,, 1908 seventh edition (revised) ................ 1912 (all rights reserved.) to florence farr the land of heart's desire o rose, thou art sick. william blake maurteen bruin bridget bruin shawn bruin mary bruin father hart a faery child the scene is laid in the barony of kilmacowen, in the county of sligo, and at a remote time. the land of heart's desire scene.--a room with a hearth on the floor in the middle of a deep alcove to the right. there are benches in the alcove and a table; and a crucifix on the wall. the alcove is full of a glow of light from the fire. there is an open door facing the audience to the left, and to the left of this a bench. through the door one can see the forest. it is night, but the moon or a late sunset glimmers through the trees and carries the eye far off into a vague, mysterious world. maurteen bruin, shawn bruin, and bridget bruin sit in the alcove at the table or about the fire. they are dressed in the costume of some remote time, and near them sits an old priest, father hart. he may be dressed as a friar. there is food and drink upon the table. mary bruin stands by the door reading a book. if she looks up she can see through the door into the wood. bridget. because i bid her clean the pots for supper she took that old book down out of the thatch; she has been doubled over it ever since. we should be deafened by her groans and moans had she to work as some do, father hart; get up at dawn like me and mend and scour; or ride abroad in the boisterous night like you, the pyx and blessed bread under your arm. shawn. mother, you are too cross. bridget. you've married her, and fear to vex her and so take her part. maurteen (to father hart) it is but right that youth should side with youth she quarrels with my wife a bit at times, and is too deep just now in the old book but do not blame her greatly; she will grow as quiet as a puff-ball in a tree when but the moons of marriage dawn and die for half a score of times. father hart. their hearts are wild, as be the hearts of birds, till children come. bridget. she would not mind the kettle, milk the cow, or even lay the knives and spread the cloth. shawn. mother, if only-maurteen. shawn, this is half empty; go, bring up the best bottle that we have. father hart. i never saw her read a book before, what can it be? maurteen (to shawn) what are you waiting for? you must not shake it when you draw the cork it's precious wine, so take your time about it. (shawn goes.) (to priest) there was a spaniard wrecked at ocris head, when i was young, and i have still some bottles. he cannot bear to hear her blamed; the book has lain up in the thatch these fifty years; my father told me my grandfather wrote it, and killed a heifer for the binding of it-but supper's spread, and we can talk and eat. it was little good he got out of the book, because it filled his house with rambling fiddlers, and rambling ballad-makers and the like. the griddle-bread is there in front of you. colleen, what is the wonder in that book, that you must leave the bread to cool? had i or had my father read or written books there was no stocking stuffed with yellow guineas to come when i am dead to shawn and you. father hart. you should not fill your head with foolish dreams. what are you reading? mary. how a princess edane, a daughter of a king of ireland, heard a voice singing on a may eve like this, and followed half awake and half asleep, until she came into the land of faery, where nobody gets old and godly and grave, where nobody gets old and crafty and wise, where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue. and she is still there, busied with a dance deep in the dewy shadow of a wood, or where stars walk upon a mountain-top. maurteen. persuade the colleen to put down the book; my grandfather would mutter just such things, and he was no judge of a dog or a horse, and any idle boy could blarney him; just speak your mind. father hart. put it away, my colleen; god spreads the heavens above us like great wings and gives a little round of deeds and days, and then come the wrecked angels and set snares, and bait them with light hopes and heavy dreams, until the heart is puffed with pride and goes half shuddering and half joyous from god's peace; and it was some wrecked angel, blind with tears, who flattered edane's heart with merry words. my colleen, i have seen some other girls restless and ill at ease, but years went by and they grew like their neighbours and were glad in minding children, working at the churn, and gossiping of weddings and of wakes; for life moves out of a red flare of dreams into a common light of common hours, until old age bring the red flare again. maurteen. that's true--but she's too young to know it's true. bridget. she's old enough to know that it is wrong to mope and idle. maurteen. i've little blame for her; she's dull when my big son is in the fields, and that and maybe this good woman's tongue have driven her to hide among her dreams like children from the dark under the bed-clothes. bridget. she'd never do a turn if i were silent. maurteen. and maybe it is natural upon may eve to dream of the good people. but tell me, girl, if you've the branch of blessed quicken wood that women hang upon the post of the door that they may send good luck into the house? remember they may steal new-married brides after the fall of twilight on may eve, or what old women mutter at the fire is but a pack of lies. father hart. it may be truth we do not know the limit of those powers god has permitted to the evil spirits for some mysterious end. you have done right. (to mary); it's well to keep old innocent customs up. (mary bruin has taken a bough of quicken wood from a seat and hung it on a nail in the doorpost. a girl child strangely dressed, perhaps in faery green, comes out of the wood and takes it away.) mary. i had no sooner hung it on the nail before a child ran up out of the wind; she has caught it in her hand and fondled it; her face is pale as water before dawn. father hart. whose child can this be? maurteen. no one's child at all. she often dreams that some one has gone by, when there was nothing but a puff of wind. mary. they have taken away the blessed quicken wood, they will not bring good luck into the house; yet i am glad that i was courteous to them, for are not they, likewise, children of god? father hart. colleen, they are the children of the fiend, and they have power until the end of time, when god shall fight with them a great pitched battle and hack them into pieces. mary. he will smile, father, perhaps, and open his great door. father hart. did but the lawless angels see that door they would fall, slain by everlasting peace; and when such angels knock upon our doors, who goes with them must drive through the same storm. (a thin old arm comes round the door-post and knocks and beckons. it is clearly seen in the silvery light. mary bruin goes to door and stands in it for a moment. maurteen bruin is busy filling father hart's plate. bridget bruin stirs the fire.) mary (coming to table) there's somebody out there that beckoned me and raised her hand as though it held a cup, and she was drinking from it, so it may be that she is thirsty. (she takes milk from the table and carries it to the door.) father hart. that will be the child that you would have it was no child at all. bridget. and maybe, father, what he said was true; for there is not another night in the year so wicked as to-night. maurteen. nothing can harm us while the good father's underneath our roof. mary. a little queer old woman dressed in green. bridget. the good people beg for milk and fire upon may eve--woe to the house that gives, for they have power upon it for a year. maurteen. hush, woman, hush! bridget. she's given milk away. i knew she would bring evil on the house. maurteen. who was it? mary. both the tongue and face were strange. maurteen. some strangers came last week to clover hill; she must be one of them. bridget. i am afraid. father hart. the cross will keep all evil from the house while it hangs there. maurteen. come, sit beside me, colleen, and put away your dreams of discontent, for i would have you light up my last days, like the good glow of the turf; and when i die you'll be the wealthiest hereabout, for, colleen, i have a stocking full of yellow guineas hidden away where nobody can find it. bridget. you are the fool of every pretty face, and i must spare and pinch that my son's wife may have all kinds of ribbons for her head. maurteen. do not be cross; she is a right good girl! the butter is by your elbow, father hart. my colleen, have not fate and time and change done well for me and for old bridget there? we have a hundred acres of good land, and sit beside each other at the fire. i have this reverend father for my friend, i look upon your face and my son's face-we've put his plate by yours--and here he comes, and brings with him the only thing we have lacked, abundance of good wine. (shawn comes in.) stir up the fire, and put new turf upon it till it blaze; to watch the turf-smoke coiling from the fire, and feel content and wisdom in your heart, this is the best of life; when we are young we long to tread a way none trod before, but find the excellent old way through love, and through the care of children, to the hour for bidding fate and time and change goodbye. (mary takes a sod of turf from the fire and goes out through the door. shawn follows her and meets her coming in.) shawn. what is it draws you to the chill o' the wood? there is a light among the stems of the trees that makes one shiver. mary. a little queer old man made me a sign to show he wanted fire to light his pipe. bridget. you've given milk and fire upon the unluckiest night of the year and brought, for all you know, evil upon the house. before you married you were idle and fine and went about with ribbons on your head; and now--no, father, i will speak my mind she is not a fitting wife for any man-shawn. be quiet, mother! maurteen. you are much too cross. mary. what do i care if i have given this house, where i must hear all day a bitter tongue, into the power of faeries bridget. you know well how calling the good people by that name, or talking of them over much at all, may bring all kinds of evil on the house. mary. come, faeries, take me out of this dull house! let me have all the freedom i have lost; work when i will and idle when i will! faeries, come take me out of this dull world, for i would ride with you upon the wind, run on the top of the dishevelled tide, and dance upon the mountains like a flame. father hart. you cannot know the meaning of your words. mary. father, i am right weary of four tongues: a tongue that is too crafty and too wise, a tongue that is too godly and too grave, a tongue that is more bitter than the tide, and a kind tongue too full of drowsy love, of drowsy love and my captivity. (shawn bruin leads her to a seat at the left of the door.) shawn. do not blame me; i often lie awake thinking that all things trouble your bright head. how beautiful it is--your broad pale forehead under a cloudy blossoming of hair! sit down beside me here--these are too old, and have forgotten they were ever young. mary. o, you are the great door-post of this house, and i the branch of blessed quicken wood, and if i could i'd hang upon the post, till i had brought good luck into the house. (she would put her arms about him, but looks shyly at the priest and lets her arms fall.) father hart. my daughter, take his hand--by love alone god binds us to himself and to the hearth, that shuts us from the waste beyond his peace from maddening freedom and bewildering light. shawn. would that the world were mine to give it you, and not its quiet hearths alone, but even all that bewilderment of light and freedom. if you would have it. mary. i would take the world and break it into pieces in my hands to see you smile watching it crumble away. shawn. then i would mould a world of fire and dew with no one bitter, grave or over wise, and nothing marred or old to do you wrong, and crowd the enraptured quiet of the sky with candles burning to your lonely face. mary/ your looks are all the candles that i need. shawn. once a fly dancing in a beam of the sun, or the light wind blowing out of the dawn, could fill your heart with dreams none other knew, but now the indissoluble sacrament has mixed your heart that was most proud and cold with my warm heart for ever; the sun and moon must fade and heaven be rolled up like a scroll but your white spirit still walk by my spirit. (a voice singing in the wood.) maurteen. there's some one singing. why, it's but a child. it sang, "the lonely of heart is withered away." a strange song for a child, but she sings sweetly. listen, listen! (goes to door.) mary. o, cling close to me, because i have said wicked things to-night. the voice. the wind blows out of the gates of the day, the wind blows over the lonely of heart, and the lonely of heart is withered away. while the faeries dance in a place apart, shaking their milk-white feet in a ring, tossing their milk-white arms in the air for they hear the wind laugh and murmur and sing of a land where even the old are fair, and even the wise are merry of tongue but i heard a reed of coolaney say, when the wind has laughed and murmured and sung the lonely of heart is withered away maurteen. being happy, i would have all others happy, so i will bring her in out of the cold. (he brings in the faery child.) the child. i tire of winds and waters and pale lights. maurteen. and that's no wonder, for when night has fallen the wood's a cold and a bewildering place, but you are welcome here. the child. i am welcome here. for when i tire of this warm little house there is one here that must away, away. maurteen. o, listen to her dreamy and strange talk. are you not cold? the child. i will crouch down beside you, for i have run a long, long way this night. bridget. you have a comely shape. maurteen. your hair is wet. bridget. i'll warm your chilly feet. maurteen. you have come indeed a long, long way--for i have never seen your pretty face--and must be tired and hungry, here is some bread and wine. the child. the wine is bitter. old mother, have you no sweet food for me? bridget. i have some honey. (she goes into the next room.) maurteen. you have coaxing ways, the mother was quite cross before you came. (bridget returns with the honey and fills porringer with milk.) bridget. she is the child of gentle people; look at her white hands and at her pretty dress. i've brought you some new milk, but wait a while and i will put it to the fire to warm, for things well fitted for poor folk like us would never please a high-born child like you. the child. from dawn, when you must blow the fire ablaze, you work your fingers to the bone, old mother. the young may lie in bed and dream and hope, but you must work your fingers to the bone because your heart is old. bridget. the young are idle. the child. your memories have made you wise, old father; the young must sigh through many a dream and hope, but you are wise because your heart is old. (bridget gives her more bread and honey.) maurteen. o, who would think to find so young a girl loving old age and wisdom? the child. no more, mother. maurteen. what a small bite! the milk is ready now. (hands it to her.) what a small sip! the child. put on my shoes, old mother. now i would like to dance now i have eaten, the reeds are dancing by coolaney lake, and i would like to dance until the reeds and the white waves have danced themselves asleep. (bridget puts on the shoes, and the child is about to dance, but suddenly sees the crucifix and shrieks and covers her eyes.) what is that ugly thing on the black cross? father hart. you cannot know how naughty your words are! that is our blessed lord. the child. hide it away, bridget. i have begun to be afraid again. the child. hide it away! maurteen. that would be wickedness! bridget. that would be sacrilege! the child. the tortured thing hide it away! maurteen. her parents are to blame. father hart. that is the image of the son of god. the child (caressing him) hide it away, hide it away! maurteen. no, no. father hart. because you are so young and like a bird, that must take fright at every stir of the leaves, i will go take it down. the child. hide it away! and cover it out of sight and out of mind! (father hart takes crucifix from wall and carries it towards inner room.) father hart. since you have come into this barony, i will instruct you in our blessed faith and being so keen witted you'll soon learn. (to the others.) we must be tender to all budding things, our maker let no thought of calvary trouble the morning stars in their first song. (puts crucifix in inner room.) the child. here is level ground for dancing; i will dance. (sings.) "the wind blows out of the gates of the day, the wind blows over the lonely of heart, and the lonely of heart is withered away." (she dances.) mary (to shawn). just now when she came near i thought i heard other small steps beating upon the floor, and a faint music blowing in the wind, invisible pipes giving her feet the tune. shawn. i heard no steps but hers. mary. i hear them now, the unholy powers are dancing in the house. maurteen. come over here, and if you promise me not to talk wickedly of holy things i will give you something. the child. bring it me, old father. maurteen. here are some ribbons that i bought in the town for my son's wife--but she will let me give them to tie up that wild hair the winds have tumbled. the child. come, tell me, do you love me? maurteen. yes, i love you. the child. ah, but you love this fireside. do you love me? father hart. when the almighty puts so great a share of his own ageless youth into a creature, to look is but to love. the child. but you love him? bridget. she is blaspheming. the child. and do you love me too mary. i do not know. the child. you love that young man there, yet i could make you ride upon the winds, run on the top of the dishevelled tide, and dance upon the mountains like a flame. mary. queen of angels and kind saints defend us! some dreadful thing will happen. a while ago she took away the blessed quicken wood. father hart. you fear because of her unmeasured prattle; she knows no better. child, how old are you? the child. when winter sleep is abroad my hair grows thin, my feet unsteady. when the leaves awaken my mother carries me in her golden arms; i'll soon put on my womanhood and marry the spirits of wood and water, but who can tell when i was born for the first time? i think i am much older than the eagle cock that blinks and blinks on ballygawley hill, and he is the oldest thing under the moon. father hart. o she is of the faery people. the child. one called, i sent my messengers for milk and fire, she called again and after that i came. (all except shawn and mary bruin gather behind the priest for protection.) shawn (rising) though you have made all these obedient, you have not charmed my sight and won from me a wish or gift to make you powerful; i'll turn you from the house. father hart. no, i will face her. the child. because you took away the crucifix i am so mighty that there's none can pass, unless i will it, where my feet have danced or where i've whirled my finger-tops. (shawn tries to approach her and cannot.) maurteen. look, look! there something stops him--look how he moves his hands as though he rubbed them on a wall of glass! father hart. i will confront this mighty spirit alone. be not afraid, the father is with us, the holy martyrs and the innocents, the adoring magi in their coats of mail, and he who died and rose on the third day and all the nine angelic hierarchies. (the child kneels upon the settle beside mary and puts her arms about her.) cry, daughter, to the angels and the saints. the child. you shall go with me, newly-married bride, and gaze upon a merrier multitude. white-armed nuala, aengus of the birds, feacra of the hurtling foam, and him who is the ruler of the western host, finvarra, and their land of heart's desire, where beauty has no ebb, decay no flood, but joy is wisdom, time an endless song. i kiss you and the world begins to fade. shawn. awake out of that trance--and cover up your eyes and ears. father hart. she must both look and listen, for only the soul's choice can save her now. come over to me, daughter; stand beside me; think of this house and of your duties in it. the child. stay and come with me, newly-married bride, for if you hear him you grow like the rest; bear children, cook, and bend above the churn, and wrangle over butter, fowl, and eggs, until at last, grown old and bitter of tongue, you're crouching there and shivering at the grave. father hart. daughter, i point you out the way to heaven. the child. but i can lead you, newly-married bride, where nobody gets old and crafty and wise, where nobody gets old and godly and grave, where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue, and where kind tongues bring no captivity; for we are but obedient to the thoughts that drift into the mind at a wink of the eye. father hart. . by the dear name of the one crucified, i bid you, mary bruin, come to me. the child. i keep you in the name of your own heart. father hart. it is because i put away the crucifix that i am nothing, and my power is nothing, i'll bring it here again. maurteen (clinging to him) no! bridget. do not leave us. father hart. o, let me go before it is too late; it is my sin alone that brought it all. (singing outside.) the child. i hear them sing, "come, newly-married bride, come, to the woods and waters and pale lights." mary. i will go with you. father hart. she is lost, alas! the child (standing by the door) but clinging mortal hope must fall from you, for we who ride the winds, run on the waves, and dance upon the mountains are more light than dewdrops on the banner of the dawn. mary. o, take me with you. shawn. beloved, i will keep you. i've more than words, i have these arms to hold you, nor all the faery host, do what they please, shall ever make me loosen you from these arms. mary. dear face! dear voice! the child. come, newly-married bride. mary. i always loved her world--and yet--and yet-the child. white bird, white bird, come with me, little bird. mary. she calls me! the child. come with me, little bird. (distant dancing figures appear in the wood.) mary. i can hear songs and dancing. shawn. stay with me. mary. i think that i would stay--and yet--and yet-the child. come, little bird, with crest of gold.' mary (very soft,) and yet-the child. come, little bird with silver feet! (mary bruin dies, and the child goes.) shawn. she is dead! bridget. come from that image; body and soul are gone you have thrown your arms about a drift of leaves, or bole of an ash-tree changed into her image. father hart. thus do the spirits of evil snatch their prey, almost out of the very hand of god; and day by day their power is more and more, and men and women leave old paths, for pride comes knocking with thin knuckles on the heart. (outside there are dancing figures, and it may be a white bird, and many voices singing.) "the wind blows out of the gates of the day, the wind blows over the lonely of heart, and the lonely of heart is withered away; while the faeries dance in a place apart, shaking their milk-white feet in a ring, tossing their milk-white arms in the air; for they hear the wind laugh and murmur and sing of a land where even the old are fair, and even the wise are merry of tongue; but i heard a reed of coolaney say-when the wind has laughed and murmured and sung, the lonely of heart is withered away."' note this little play was produced at the avenue theatre in the spring of 1894, with the following cast: maurteen bruin, mr. james welch; shawn bruin, mr. a. e. w. mason; father hart, mr. g. r. foss; bridget bruin, miss charlotte morland; maire bruin, miss winifred fraser: a faery child, miss dorothy paget. it ran for a little over six weeks. it was revived in america in 1901, when it was taken on tour by mrs. lemoyne. it has been played two or three times professionally since then in america and a great many times in england and america by amateurs. till lately it was not part of the repertory of the abbey theatre, for i had grown to dislike it without knowing what i disliked in it. this winter, however, i have made many revisions and now it plays well enough to give me pleasure. it is printed in this book in the new form, which was acted for the first time on february 22, 1912, at the abbey theatre, dublin. at the abbey theatre, where the platform of the stage comes out in front of the curtain, the curtain falls before the priest's last words. he remains outside the curtain and the words are spoken to the audience like an epilogue. w. b. yeats. abbey theatre, dublin. march, 1912. a fairy tale in two acts, taken from shakespeare. as it is performed at the theatre-royal in drury-lane, london printed for j. and r. tonson. mdcclxiii. dramatis personae. men. quince, a carpenter, mr. love. bottom, the weaver, mr. baddely. snug, the joiner, mr. clough. flute, the bellows-mender, mr. castle. snout, the tinker, mr. ackman. starveling, the taylor, mr. parsons. fairies. oberon, king of the fairies, miss rogers. titania, queen of the fairies, miss ford. puck, master cape. first fairy, miss wright. second fairy, master raworth. other fairies attending the king and queen. scene, athens, and a wood not far from it. a fairy tale. act i. scene i. scene a room in quince's house. enter quince, snug, bottom, flute, snowt, and starveling. quince. is all our company here? bot. you were best to call them generally, man by man, according to the scrip. quin. here is the scrowl of every man's name, which is thought fit through all athens to play in our interlude before the duke and dutchess, on his wedding day at night. bot. first, good peter quince, say what the play treats on; then read the names of the actors; and so grow on to a point. quin. marry, our play is the most lamentable comedy, and most cruel death of pyramus and thisby. bot. a very good piece of work, i assure you, and a merry. now, good peter quince, call forth your actors by the scrowl. masters, spread yourselves. quin. answer as i call you. nick bottom the weaver! bot. ready: name what part i am for, and proceed. quin. you, nick bottom, are set down for pyramus. bot. what is pyramus, a lover, or a tyrant? quin. a lover that kills himself most gallantly for love. bot. that will ask some tears in the true performing of it: if i do it let the audience look to their eyes; i will move storms; i will condole in some measure. to the rest; yet, my chief humour is for a tyrant; i could play ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in. "to make all split the raging rocks and shivering shocks shall break the locks of prison-gates, and phibbus carr shall shine from far, and make and mar the foolish fates!" this was lofty. now name the rest of the players. this is ercles vein, a tyrant's vein; a lover is more condoling. quin. francis flute, the bellows-mender. flu. here, peter quince. quin. flute, you must take thisby on you. flu. what is thisby, a wand'ring knight? quin. it is the lady that pyramus must love. flu. nay, faith, let not me play a woman, i have a beard coming. quin. that's all one, you shall play it in a mask, and you may speak small as you will. bot. an i may hide my face, let me play thisby too; i'll speak in a monstrous little voice; thisne, thisne, ah pyramus my lover dear, thy thisby dear, and lady dear. quin. no, no, you must play pyramus; and flute, you thisby. bot. well, proceed. quin. robin starveling, the taylor. star. here, peter quince. quin. robin starveling, you must play thisby's mother: tom snowt, the tinker. snowt. here, peter quince. quin. you, pyramus's father; myself, thisby's father; snug the joiner, you the lion's part; i hope there is a play fitted. snug. have you the lion's part written? pray you, if it be, give it me, for i am slow of study. quin. you may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring. bot. let me play the lion too, i will roar, that i will do any man's heart good to hear me. i will roar, that i will make the duke say, let him roar again, let him roar again! quin. if you should do it too terribly, you would fright the dutchess and the ladies, that they would shriek, and that were enough to hang us all. all. that would hang us every mother's son. bot. i grant you, friends, if you should fright the ladies out of their wits, they would have no more discretion but to hang us; but i will aggravate my voice so, that i will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; i will roar you an 'twere any nightingale. quin. you can play no part but pyramus, for pyramus is a sweet fac'd man, a proper man as one shall see in a summer's day; a most lovely gentleman-like man: therefore you must needs play pyramus. bot. well, i will undertake it. what beard were i best to play it in? quin. why what you will. bot. i will discharge it in either your straw-colour'd beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain beard, or your french-crown-colour'd beard, your perfect yellow. quin. some of your french-crowns have no hair at all, and then you will play bare-fac'd. but, masters here are your parts, and i am to intreat you, request you, and desire you to con them by to-morrow night; and meet me in the palace-wood, a mile without the town, by moonlight, there we will rehearse; for if we meet in the city, we shall be dog'd with company, and our devices known. in the mean time i will draw a bill of properties, such as our play wants. i pray you fail me not. bot. we will meet, and there we may rehearse more obscenely and courageously. take pains, be perfect, adieu. quin. at the duke's oak we meet. bot. but hold ye, hold ye, neighbours; are your voices in order, and your tunes ready? for if we miss our musical pitch, we shall be all 'sham'd and abandon'd. quin. ay, ay! nothing goes down so well as a little of your sol, fa, and long quaver; therefore let us be in our airs--and for better assurance i have got the pitch pipe. bot. stand round, stand round! we'll rehearse our eplog--clear up your pipes, and every man in his turn take up his stanza-verse--are you all ready? all. ay, ay!--sound the pitch-pipe, peter quince. [quince blows. bot. now make your reverency and begin. song--for epilogue; by quince, bottom, snug, flute, starveling, snout. quin. most noble duke, to us be kind; be you and all your courtiers blind, that you may not our errors find, but smile upon our sport. for we are simple actors all, some fat, some lean, some short, some tall; our pride is great, our merit small; will that, pray, do at court? ii. starv. o would the duke and dutchess smile, the court would do the same awhile, but call us after, low and vile, and that way make their sport: nay, would you still more pastime make, and at poor we your purses shake, whate'er you give, we'll gladly take, for that will do at court. bot. well said, my boys, my hearts! sing but like nightingales thus when you come to your misrepresentation, and we are made for ever, you rogues! so! steal a way now to your homes without inspection; meet me at the duke's oak--by moon light--mum's the word. all. mum! [exeunt all stealing out. scene, a wood. enter a fairy at one door, and puck, or robin-good-fellow, at another. puck. how now, spirit! whither wander you? 1st fai. over hill, over dale, through bush, through brier, over park, over pale, through flood, through fire, i do wander every where, swifter than the moon's sphere; and i serve the fairy queen, to dew her orbs upon the green: i must go seek some dew-drops here, and hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear. air. kingcup, daffodil and rose, shall the fairy wreath compose; beauty, sweetness, and delight, crown our revels of the night: lightly trip it o'er the green where the fairy ring is seen; so no step of earthly tread, shall of end our lady's head. virtue sometimes droops her wing, beauties bee, may lose her sting; fairy land can both combine, roses with the eglantine: lightly be your measures seen, deftly footed o'er the green; nor a spectre's baleful head peep at our nocturnal tread. farewel thou lob of spirits, i'll be gone; our queen and all her elves come here anon. puck. the king doth keep his revels here to-night, take heed the queen come not within his sight; for they do square, that all their elves for fear creep into acorn-cups, and hide them there. 1st fai. but why is oberon so fell and wrath? puck. because that she, as her attendant hath a lovely boy stol'n from an indian king; and she perforce with-holds the changling, tho' jealous oberon wou'd have the child knight of his train, to trace the forests wild. 1st fai. or i mistake your shape and making quite, or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite call'd robin-good-fellow. puck. thou speak'st aright; i am that merry wand'rer of the night: i jest to oberon, and make him smile, oft lurk in gossip's bowl, and her beguile in very likeness of a roasted crab; and when she drinks, against her lips i bob, and on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale; the wisest aunt telling the saddest tale, sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me; then slip i from her bum, down topples she, and rails or cries, and falls into a cough, and then the whole choir hold their hips and loffe. air. 1st fai. yes, yes, i know you, you are he that frighten all the villagree; skim milk, and labour in the quern, and bootless make the huswife churn; or make the drink to bear no barm, laughing at their loss and harm, but call you robin, and sweet puck, you do their work, and bring good luck. yes, you are that unlucky sprite! like will-a-whisp, a wandring light, through ditch, thro' bog, who lead astray benighted swains, who lose their way; you pinch the slattern black and blue, you silver drop in huswife's shoe; for call you robin and sweet puck, you do their work, and bring good luck. puck. but make room, fairy, here comes oberon. 1st fai. and here my mistress: would that he were gone! enter oberon king of fairies at one door, with his train, and the queen at another with hers. ob. ill met by moon-light, proud titania! queen. what, jealous oberon? fairy, skip hence, i have forsworn his bed and company. ob. tarry, rash wanton! am not i thy lord? queen. then i must be thy lady: why art thou here? come from the farthest steep of india? but that, forsooth, the bouncing amazon, your buskin'd mistress, and your warrior love, to theseus must be wedded; and you come to give their bed joy and prosperity. ob. how canst thou thus, for shame, titania, glance at my credit with hippolita, knowing i know thy love to theseus? didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night from perigune, whom he ravished, and make him, with fair egle, break his faith with ariadne and antiopa? queen. these are the forgeries of jealousy: and never since that middle summer's spring met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead, to dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, but with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport. the spring, the summer, the chiding autumn, angry winter, change their wonted liveries; and the amazed world by their increase now knows not which is which; and this same progeny of evil comes from our debate, from our dissention, we are their parents and original. ob. do you amend it then, it lies in you. why should titania cross her oberon? i do but beg a little changling boy to be my henchman. queen. set your heart at rest, the fairy-land buys not the child of me. his mother was a votress of my order, and in the spiced indian air by night full often she hath gossipt by my side; and sat with me on neptune's yellow sands. marking th' embarked traders of the flood, when we have laught to see the sails conceive, and grow big-bellied with the wanton wind; which she, with pretty and with swimming gait, would imitate, and sail upon the land, to fetch me trifles, and return again as from a voyage rich with merchandize; but she being mortal of that boy did die, and for her sake i do rear up her boy, and for her sake i will not part with him. ob. how long within this wood intend you stay? queen. perchance till after theseus' wedding-day. if you will patiently dance in our round, and see our moon-light revels, go with us; if not, shun me, and i will spare your haunts. ob. give me that boy, and i'll go with thee. queen. not for thy fairy kingdom. air. duet. queen. away, away, i will not stay, but fly from rage and thee. king. begone, begone, you'll feel anon what 'tis to injure me. queen. away, false man! do all you can, i scorn your jealous rage! king. we will not part; take you my heart! give me your favourite page. queen. i'll keep my page! king. and i my rage! nor shall you injure me. queen. away, away! i will not stay, but fly from rage and thee. both. away, away, &c. [exe. queen, &c. ob. well, go thy way; thou shalt not from this grove, till i torment thee for this injury-my gentle puck, come hither: there is a flow'r, the herb i shew'd thee once, the juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid, will make a man or woman madly doat upon the next live creature that it sees. fetch me that herb, and be thou here again ere the leviathan can swim a league. puck. i'll put a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes. [exit. ob. having once this juice, i'll watch titania when she is asleep, and drop the liquor of it in her eye; the next thing which she waking looks upon, (be it on bear, lion, wolf, bull, ape or monkey), she shall pursue it with the soul of love; and ere i take this charm off from her sight, (as i can take it with another herb), i'll make her render up her page to me. [exit. scene another part of the wood. enter queen of the fairies, and her train. queen. come, now a roundel, and a fairy song. air. 2d fai. come, follow, follow me, ye fairy elves that be; o'er tops of dewy grass, so nimbly do we pass, the young and tender stalk ne'er bends where we do walk. scene the wood. queen. now, for the third part of a minute hence, some to kill cankers in the musk-rose buds, some war with rear-mice for their leathern wings, to make my small elves coats: and some keep back the clamorous owl, that nightly hoots, and wonders, at our queint spirits. sing me now asleep, then to your offices, and let me rest. [goes to the bower and lies down. air. 1st. fai. you spotted snakes with double tongue, thorny hedge-hogs, be not seen, newts and blind-worms, do no wrong, come not near our fairy queen. philomel with melody, sing in your sweet lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby: never harm, nor spell, nor charm, come our lovely lady nigh, so good night with lullaby. ii. weaving spiders come not here; hence, you long-leg'd spinners, hence: beetles black approach not near, worm nor snail do no offence. philomel with melody, &c. hence away! now all is well; one aloof stand centinel. [exeunt fairies. enter oberon and first fairy. [oberon squeeses the juice of the flower on the queen's eyes. ob. what thou seest when thou dost wake, do it for thy true love take; love and languish for his sake; be it ounce, or cat, or bear, pard, or boar with bristled hair, in thy eye what shall appear, when thou wak'st, it is thy dear; wake when some vile thing is near. [exit ob. air. 1st fai. such the force of magic pow'r, of the juice of this small flower, it shall jaundice so her sight, foul shall be fair, and black seem white; then shall dreams, and all their train, fill with fantasies her brain; then, no more her darling joy, she'll resign her changeling boy. [exeunt. end of the first act. act ii. scene continues. enter quince, snug, bottom, flute, snout and starveling. the queen of fairies lying asleep. bot. are we all met? quin. pat, pat! and here's a marvellous convenient place for our rehearsal. this green plot shall be our stage, this hawthorn brake our tyring house, and we will do it in action, as we will do it before the duke. bot. peter quince. quin. what say'st thou, bully bottom? bot. there are things in this comedy of pyramus and thisby, that will never please. first, pyramus must draw a sword to kill himself, which the ladies cannot abide. how answer you that? snout. by'rlaken, a parlous fear! starv. i believe we must leave the killing out, when all is done. bot. not a whit; i have a device to make all well; write me a prologue, and let the prologue seem to say, we will do no harm with our swords, and that pyramus is not kill'd indeed; and for more better assurance tell them, that i pyramus am not pyramus, but bottom the weaver: this will put them out of fear. quin. well, we will have such a prologue, and it shall be written in eight and six. bot. no, make it two more; let it be written in eight and eight. snout. will not the ladies be afraid of the lion? starv. i fear it, i promise you. bot. masters, you ought to consider with yourselves; to bring in, heaven shield us! a lion among ladies, is a most dreadful thing; for there is not a more fearful wildfowl than your lion, living; and we ought to look to it. snout. therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion. bot. nay, you must name his name, and half his face must be seen through the lion's neck; and he himself must speak through, saying thus, or to the same defect: ladies, or fair ladies, i would wish you, or i would request you, or i would intreat you, not to fear, not to tremble; my life for yours; if you think i come hither as a lion, it were pity of my life; no, i am no such thing; i am a man as other men are; and there indeed let him name his name, and tell them plainly, he is snug the joiner. quin. well, it shall be so; but there is two hard things, that is, to bring the moon-light into a chamber; for you know pyramus and thisby met by moon-light. snug. doth the moon shine that night we play our play? bot. a kalendar, a kalendar! look into the almanack; find out moon-shine, find out moon-shine. quin. yes, it doth shine that night. bot. why then may you leave a casement of the great chamber window, where we play, open, and the moon may shine in at the casement. quin. ay, or else one must come in with a bush of throns and a lanthern; and say he comes to disfigure or to present the person of moon-shine. then there is another thing; we must have a wall in the great chamber, for pyramus and thisby (says the story) did talk through the chink of a wall. snug. you can never bring in a wall. what say you, bottom? bot. some man or other must present wall; and let him have some plaster, or some loome, or some rough-cast, about him, to signify wall: or let him hold his fingers thus, and through the cranny shall pyramus and thisby whisper. quin. if that may be, then all is well. come, sit down every mother's son, and rehearse your parts. pyramus, you begin; and when you have spoken your speech, enter into that brake, and so every one according to his cue. enter puck. puck. what hempen homespuns have we swaggering here, so near the cradle of the fairy queen? what, a play tow'rd; i'll be an auditor; an actor too, perhaps, if i see cause. quin. speak, pyramus. thisby, stand forth. pyr. thisby, the flower of odious savours sweet. quin. odours, odours. pyr. odours savours sweet; so doth thy breath, my dearest thisby dear: but hark, a voice! stay thou but here a while, and by-and-by i will to thee appear, puck. a stranger pyramus than e'er play'd here! [aside. now for a storm to drive these patches hence. [he waves his wand.] thunder and lightning. quin. o monstrous! o strange! we are haunted: pray masters, fly masters, help! [exeunt clowns. puck. i'll follow you, i'll lead you about a round, thro' bog, thro' bush, thro' brake, thro' briar; sometimes a horse i'll be, sometimes a hound, a hog, a headless bear, sometimes a fire, and neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn, like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn. [exit. enter bottom. bot. why do they let a little thunder frighten them away? but i will not stir from this place, do what they can: i will walk up and down here, and i will sing, that they shall hear i am not afraid. [sings. air. the ousel-cock, so black of hue, with orange-tawny bill, the throstle, with his note so true, the wren with little quill. queen. what angel wakes me from my flow'ry bed? bot. (sings.) the finch, the sparrow, and the lark, the plain-song cuckow grey, whose note full many a man doth mark, and dares not answer nay. queen. i pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again, mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note; so is mine eye enthralled to thy shape, on the first view to say, to swear, i love thee. bot. methinks, mistress, you should have little reason for that; and yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together now-a-days. the more the pity, that some honest neighbours will not make them friends. nay i can gleek upon occasion. queen. thou art as wise as thou art beautiful. bot. not so neither: but if i had wit enough to get out of this wood, i have enough to serve mine own turn. queen. out of this wood do not desire to go; thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no, i am a spirit of no common rate; the summer still doth tend upon my state, and i do love thee; therefore go with me, i'll give thee fairies to attend on thee; and they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep, and sing, while thou on pressed flow'rs doth sleep; and i will purge thy mortal grossness so, that thou shalt like an airy spirit go. peaseblossom, cob, moth, mustardseed! enter peaseblossom, cobweb, moth, mustardseed, four fairies. pease. ready. cob. and i. moth. and i. must. and i. where shall we go? queen. be kind and courteous to this gentleman; hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes; feed him with apricots and dewberries; with purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries; the honey-bags steal from the humble bees, and for night-tapers, crop their waxen thighs, and light them at the fiery glow-worms eyes, to have my love to-bed, and to arise: nod to him, elves, and do him courtesies. pease. hail, mortal, hail! cob. hail! moth. hail! queen. come, wait upon him, lead him to my bow'r. the moon, methinks, looks with a watry eye, and when she weeps, weep ev'ry little flower, lamenting some enforced chastity. tie up my love's tongue, bring him silently. [exeunt. scene another part of the wood. enter oberon. ob. i wonder if titania be awak'd: then what it was that next came in her eye, which she must doat on in extremity? enter puck. here comes my messenger! how now, mad sprite! what night-rule now about this haunted grove? puck. my mistress with a mortal is in love. ob. this falls out well and fortunate in truth; now to my queen, and beg her indian youth: and then i will her charmed eye release from mortals view, and all things shall be peace. away, away, make no delay, we may effect this business yet ere day. [exit puck. air. up and down, up and down, we will trip it up and down. we will go through field and town, we will trip it up and down. [exit oberon. scene the wood and bower. enter queen of fairies, bottom; fairies attending and the king behind them. queen. come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed. say wilt thou hear some music sweet dove. bot. i have a reasonable good ear in music. duet. by 1st and 2d fairy. welcome, welcome to this place, favorite of the fairy queen; zephyrs, play around his face, wash, ye dews, his graceful mien. pluck the wings from butterflies, to fan the moon-beams from his eyes; round him in eternal spring grashoppers and crickets sing. by the spangled starlight sheen, nature's joy he walks the green; sweet voice, fine shape, and graceful mien, speak him thine, o fairy queen! queen. or say, sweet love, what thou desir'st to eat. i have a ventrous fairy that shall seek the squirrels hoard, and fetch thee new nuts. bot. i pray you, let none of your people stir me; i have an exposition of sleep come upon me. queen. sleep thou, and i will wind thee in my arms; fairies begone, and be always away. so doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle gently entwist. o how i love thee! how i doat on thee! [they sleep. enter puck, at one door, oberon and 1st fairy at another. ob. welcome, good robin! see'st thou this sweet sight? her dotage now i do begin to pity: for meeting her of late behind the wood, i then did ask of her her changeling child, which strait she gave me; wherefore i'll undo this hateful imperfection of her eyes: [he strokes her eyes with the flower. now, fairy, sing the charm. air. 1st fai. flower, of this purple dye, hit with cupid's archery, sink in apple of her eye! when her lord she doth espy, let him shine as gloriously as the phoebus of the sky. when thou wak'st, if he be by, beg of him for remedy. [exit fairy. now, my titania, wake you, my sweet queen. queen. my oberon! what visions have i seen! methought i was enamour'd of a mortal. ob. there lies your love. queen. how came these things to pass? o how mine eyes do loath this visage now! ob. silence awhile. robin, remove the man, and you mean while, titania, music call, and strike more dead than common deep his senses. queen. musick, ho, musick! such as charmeth sleep. air. 2d fai. orpheus, with his lute, made trees, and the mountain tops that freeze, bow themselves when he did sing, to his musick, plants and flowers ever spring, as sun and showers there had made a lasting spring. [during this song the body is removed. ob. come, my queen, take hand with me, now thou and i are new in amity. air. 2d fai. sigh no more, lady, sigh no more be not inconstant ever, one foot on sea, and one on shore, you can be happy never. [lark sings. puck. fairy king, attend and mark, i do hear the morning lark. ob. then, my queen, in silence sad, trip we after the night's shade, we the globe can compass soon, swifter than the wand'ring moon. queen. come, my lord, and in our flight, tell me, how it came this night, that i sleeping here was found, with yon mortal on the ground. a dance of fairies. finis. the betrothal a sequel to the blue bird _a fairy play in five acts and eleven scenes_ by maurice maeterlinck _translated by_ alexander teixeira de mattos new york dodd, mead and company 1918 characters (_arranged in the order of their entrance on the stage_) tyltyl the fairy bérylune milette (the wood-cutter's daughter) belline (the butcher's daughter) roselle (the inn-keeper's daughter) aimette (the miller's daughter) jalline (the beggar's daughter) rosarelle (the mayor's daughter) joy (the veiled girl, or the white phantom) destiny the miser light some usual thoughts granny tyl gaffer tyl the great mendicant the great peasant the rich ancestor the sick ancestor the drunken ancestor the murderer ancestor the great ancestor other ancestors some of tyltyl's "me's" various children in the abode of the children the five little ones the smallest of them all mummy tyl mytyl daddy tyl the neighbour act i _scene_ 1 _the wood-cutter's cottage_. act ii 2 _outside the door_. 3 _the miser's cave_. 4 _a closet in the fairy's palace_. 5 _a ballroom in the fairy's palace_. act iii 6 _before the curtain representing rocks_. 7 _the abode of the ancestors_. act iv 8 _before the curtain representing the milky way_. 9 _the abode of the children_. act v 10 _before the curtain representing the edge of a forest_. 11 _the awakening_. the betrothal; or the blue bird chooses act i scene i _the wood-cutter's cottage_ _the cottage-scene in the blue bird: the interior of a wood-cutter's cabin, simple and rustic in appearance, but in no way poverty-stricken. a recessed fireplace containing the dying embers of a wood-fire. kitchen-utensils, a cupboard, a bread-pan, a grandfather's clock, a spinning-wheel, a water-tap, etc. a dog and a cat asleep. a large blue-and-white sugar-loaf. on the wall hangs a round cage containing a blue bird. at the back, two windows with closed shutters. on the left is the front-door, with a big latch to it. a ladder leads up to a loft. but there is only one bed_, tyltyl's; _he is now sixteen years of age. it is dark; the scene is lit only by a few moonbeams which filter through the shutters_. tyltyl _is sound asleep_. (_a knock at the door_.) tyltyl (_waking with a start_.) who's there? (_another knock_.) wait till i put on my breeches. the door's bolted. i'll come and open it. the fairy (_behind the door._) don't trouble, don't trouble!... it's only me!... how do you do? (_the door has opened of its own accord and_ the fairy bérylune _enters under the guise of an old woman, as in the first scene of the blue bird. at the same time the room is filled with a strange brightness, which remains after the door is closed again_.) tyltyl (_in surprise_.) who are you? the fairy don't you know me? why, tyltyl, it's hardly seven years since we said good-bye to each other! tyltyl (_bewildered and vainly searching his memory_.) yes, yes, i remember ... and i know what you mean.... the fairy yes, but you don't quite grasp who i am and you don't remember anything at all. you haven't changed, i see: just the same careless, ungrateful, wool-gathering little fellow that you always were!... but you have grown taller and stronger, my lad, and quite handsome! if i were not a fairy, i should never have known you! yes, really quite handsome!... but are you aware of it? it doesn't seem to have occurred to you! tyltyl we only had one tiny looking-glass in the house, about as big as your hand. mytyl took it and keeps it in her room. the fairy so mytyl has a room of her own now? tyltyl yes, she sleeps next door, under the stairs, and i here, in the kitchen. shall i wake her? the fairy (_growing suddenly and unreasonably angry, as on her former visit_.) there's no need to do anything of the sort!... i have nothing to do with her; her hour has not struck; and, when it does i shall be quite capable of finding her, without being shown the way as though i were blind!... in the meantime, i want nobody's advice.... tyltyl (_in dismay_.) but ma'am, i didn't know.... the fairy that will do.... (_recovering her temper as suddenly as she lost it_.) by the way, how old are you? tyltyl i shall be sixteen a fortnight after epiphany. the fairy (_growing angry again_.) a fortnight after epiphany!... what a way of reckoning!... and here am i without my almanack, having left it with destiny last time i called on him, fifty years ago!... i don't know where i stand.... however, never mind: i'll make the calculation when we see him, for we shall have to get it exactly right.... and what have you been doing these seven years since we met? tyltyl i have been working in the forest with daddy. the fairy that means you've been helping him cut down trees. i don't like that very much. you call that working, do you? ah, well, men evidently can't live without destroying the last things of beauty that remain on the earth!... so let's talk of something else.... (_mysteriously_.) can any one hear us? tyltyl i don't think so. the fairy (_growing angry once more_.) it doesn't matter what you think, but whether you're sure. what i have to say is tremendously important ... and strictly private. come here, quite close, so that i can whisper it.... whom are you in love with? tyltyl (_in amazement_.) whom am i in love with? the fairy (_still cross and quite forgetting the importance of speaking in a low voice_.) yes, yes! i'm not talking greek, am i? i want to know if you're in love with any one. tyltyl yes, certainly; i love everybody: my parents, my friends, my sister, my neighbours, all the people i know. the fairy now oblige me and don't play the fool.... you know perfectly well what i mean.... i'm asking whether there's any one girl among those you meet whom you love more than the rest. tyltyl (_blushing and considering_.) i don't know.... the fairy (_angrier than ever_.) what do you mean; you don't know? who does know, if you don't? at your age a boy ought to think of nothing else: if he doesn't, he's a booby, a nincompoop and not worth bothering about!... there's nothing to blush at: it's when one's not in love that one should feel ashamed.... you and i are miles away just now from the falsehood of words: we are with the truth of our thoughts, which is a very different thing.... come, among all the girls you've met.... tyltyl (_timidly_.) i don't meet very many.... the fairy that's no reason; it's not necessary to meet them by the dozen. very often it's enough if you come across just one: when you've nobody else, you love that one and are not to be pitied.... but come, among those close by.... tyltyl there aren't any close by.... the fairy there are at the neighbours'. tyltyl there are hardly any neighbours.... the fairy there are girls in the village, in the town, way back in the forest and in every house. you find them everywhere when your heart's awake.... which is the prettiest? tyltyl well, they're all very pretty. the fairy how many do you know? tyltyl four in the village, one in the forest and one by the bridge. the fairy oho! that's not bad, for a beginning! tyltyl we don't see many people here, you know. the fairy you're not the baby one would think.... but tell me, between ourselves, do they love you too? tyltyl they haven't told me so; they don't know that i love them. the fairy but these are things which it isn't necessary to know or to tell!... you see that at once when you're living in the truth. a look is enough; there's no mistaking it; and the words which people say merely hide the real ones which the heart has spoken.... but i'm in a hurry: would you like me to make them come here? tyltyl (_terrified_.) make them come here? they wouldn't want to! they hardly know me. they know i'm poor. they don't know where i live, especially those in the village: they never come this way.... it's an hour's walk from the church to the house; the roads are bad; it's dark.... the fairy dear, dear, anything more? don't let us talk about that. remember, we've done with untruths. i've only to lift my finger and they'll come.... tyltyl but i'm not even sure that they've noticed me at all. the fairy have you looked at them? tyltyl yes, sometimes.... the fairy and have they looked back at you? tyltyl yes, sometimes.... the fairy well, that's enough; that's the truth; and one doesn't need anything more. you'll find that's the way people tell each other in the world where i'm going to take you, the world of real things. the rest doesn't matter.... they make no mistake. you'll see, once we are there, how well they know all that has to be known; for what we see is nothing: it is what we do not see that makes the world go round.... and now, watch me!... i'm taking the little green hat out of my bag again!... do you remember it? tyltyl yes, but it's bigger.... the fairy (_angrily_.) of course it's bigger! so's your head: they grew up together.... always making those unnecessary remarks!... tyltyl and the diamond has changed colour. i should call it blue.... the fairy but, you see, it isn't the diamond! this time we're not concerned with the souls of bread, sugar and other simple and unimportant things. we have to choose the great and only love of your life; for each man has only one. if he misses it, he wanders miserably over the face of the earth. the search goes on till he dies, with the great duty unfulfilled which he owes to all those who are within him. but he seldom has an idea of this. he walks along, his eyes shut; seizes some woman whom he chances to meet in the dark; and shows her to his friends as proudly as though the gates of paradise were opening. he fancies himself alone in the world and imagines that in his own heart all things begin and end.... which is absurd.... but no more of that! is everything ready? put on your hat and turn the sapphire; then they'll come in.... tyltyl (_scared_.) but i'm not dressed!... wait, wait!... what shall i put on?... oh, what luck!... there are my sunday clothes on the chair: my breeches--they're almost new--and my clean shirt!... (_he dresses hurriedly_.) the fairy come, come, have done! all this doesn't matter; they won't mind your clothes.... you're not going to meet a lot of silly children. you won't find them the same as they were in the other life, because this is the real one; and it's the truth in them that you'll see here. tyltyl (_very uneasy_.) will they all come in together? there are six of them, at least: i can't remember.... suppose they started quarrelling and pulling one another's hair? the fairy just the least bit conceited, aren't you? tyltyl no, but i'm afraid of their making a noise, because of daddy. the fairy haven't i told you again and again, we're no longer in the world below!... can't you feel that the air is much purer and the light quite different?... we are now in a sphere in which men and women don't quarrel or wish one another harm. all of that was merely make-believe and doesn't exist deep down.... if some of them are unhappy because you hesitate in your choice, they will none the less hope on until the end; and they know very well that where there is love there must also be sorrow.... tyltyl how will they come in? the fairy upon my word, i don't know. each of them will do what occurs to her: one will choose the window, another the roof, the wall, the cellar or the chimney ... one or two even will come in by the door; but those are the least interesting: they lack imagination.... however, we shall see when the time comes. we've talked enough; time presses; come, turn the sapphire.... tyltyl (_trying to gain time, in order to conceal his terror_.) which way round am i to turn it? the fairy the same as with the diamond, from right to left.... (_looking at_ tyltyl.) goodness me, how pale you are!... what has come over you? surely you're not afraid?... tyltyl not at all, on the contrary.... i always look like this.... the fairy you needn't be ashamed to admit it: this is a very serious moment; and, if men knew what happened, in this life and all the others, when they made a bad choice, they'd never dare to get married at all.... but what you're trying to do is to put off the dreadful moment; and i'm a goose to be listening to you.... come, turn the sapphire! (tyltyl _turns the sapphire. no sooner has he done so than the cottage is filled with a supernatural light, which invests all things with beauty, purity and a transcendent joy. a window opens noiselessly and a young girl, dressed like a wood-cutter and carrying a hatchet in her hand, steps into the room and runs up and kisses_ tyltyl.) the girl good evening, tyltyl!... you called me: here i am!... tyltyl hullo, it's milette!... (_to_ the fairy.) this is milette, my cousin, the daughter of feltree, the wood-cutter.... we see each other sometimes in the forest.... (_to_ milette.) so you loved me?... you never said so!... milette do people say such things in a life where everything is forbidden? need they say them?... but i knew at once and from the first that you loved me; and so did i love you.... it was one evening when you went past with your father. you were carrying a bundle of laurel-twigs. you didn't know my name then and said, "good evening," and looked into my eyes. i answered, "good night," and cast my eyes down; but i had that look of yours in my heart; and, since then, without leaving home, i've been here very often; but you didn't seem to know.... tyltyl no, no, it's i who every evening after sunset used to go to you. i was never at home. mummy would ask, "what are you thinking of, tyltyl?" and daddy answered, "he's up in the moon again!" i wasn't in the moon at all, i was with you; but you paid no attention: you were seeing to the fire, or the soup, or the rabbits; you were cutting chips or tying up bundles, as if no one had entered your cottage.... milette no, i was here and kissing you all the time; but you didn't kiss me.... tyltyl i tell you it was i who was always kissing you; i tell you it was you who were never there.... milette it's funny that we can never see things till we've learnt how to look for them.... but, now that we do know, now that we see, we can really kiss each other.... tyltyl (_eagerly kissing_ milette.) yes, yes, let's kiss each other again and again till we have no kisses left!... oh, how wonderful it is!... i never kissed anybody till now; and i'd no idea what it was like!... oh, how wonderful, how wonderful!... i could kiss you for ever! i could spend my life kissing you!... milette and i, i too!... i'd never kissed anybody either: i mean, i'd only kissed daddy and mummy; it's not the same thing at all.... but tell me, tyltyl, is it true that you love me and only me?... who is that coming in? (_opening the wall, which closes again behind her, enter a second young girl, dressed in a blood-red skirt and bodice. a butcher's knife hangs from her belt_.) the second girl (_rushing up to_ tyltyl _and kissing him_.) here i am, tyltyl darling, here i am! tyltyl (_to_ the fairy.) this is belline, my cousin, the butcher's daughter.... (_to_ belline.) what's the matter with you, belline dear? you're wet through and quite out of breath!... belline i should think i was!... it's a long way from the village to your place!... i didn't even wait to wash my hands.... i was helping daddy to cut up a calf; the moment your thoughts came, i dropped my knife and left everything so as to get here quicker.... i even believe that, while i was there, i cut my finger rather badly; but here it doesn't show.... daddy hasn't the least idea what has happened; he must be furious. (_catching sight of_ milette.) how do you do, milette? milette how do you do, belline?... do you love him too? belline why, yes, of course!... you're not angry with me? milette not at all, i'm glad.... we'll both of us love him.... belline how pretty you look this evening, milette dearest.... milette no, it's you, belline: you've never been more beautiful.... tyltyl (_to_ the fairy.) they're taking it very well!... the fairy of course they are; they know it's not your fault.... (_at this point, the chimney-recess lights up, opens at the hack and admits a third young girl, dressed like the maid at an inn and carrying a pewter tray under one arm and a bottle under the other_.) the third girl (_enthusiastically, darting at_ tyltyl.) here i am, here i am! it's me!... good evening, everybody; but first a kiss for tyltyl!... tyltyl hullo, you too, roselle?... (_to_ the fairy.) this is roselle, the daughter of the landlord of the golden sun.... (_to_ roselle.) was there no one at the inn this evening, that you were able to come? roselle on the contrary, heaps of people! you can imagine, on christmas eve! there were men sitting and drinking on the counter and on all the window-sills. i dropped a tray with twelve glasses on it when you called me. why, i've still got the tray under this arm and a bottle of the best brandy under the other. it gets in my way when i'm kissing you.... i left them shouting after me, down there, as though i had set the house on fire.... they must be wondering if i'm mad. but i don't care, i was so delighted that you were thinking of me. a sudden happiness came over me.... how are you, tyltyl dear?... kiss me again!... you're even handsomer than when i saw you last.... tyltyl (_kissing her_.) and you, dear roselle, you are prettier than ever; and your cheeks are so soft and cool.... i never dared kiss you before.... when any one else did, i always said to myself, "how happy he must be!" roselle the others didn't matter.... but i knew well enough that you didn't dare.... i didn't dare either, though i was dying to kiss you.... do you remember the first time you came to the inn, six weeks ago? it was on a sunday morning, after high mass; you didn't look at anybody; but suddenly, when i came near, your eyes grew so bright and opened so wide.... tyltyl and so did yours open wide: they looked like two lakes. roselle what were they doing, our eyes? what happened?... i know that, since that day, i think of nothing but you, i do no work, i'm always here; but you came very seldom.... (_coming down the ladder from the attic, enter a fourth young girl, in rustic clothes, all white with flour_.) tyltyl (_turning round_.) who's there? you, aimette?... (_to_ the fairy.) this is aimette, another cousin, the miller's daughter.... the fairy go on, go on, you're doing very nicely! aimette (_a little shyly_.) i came as i was, from the mill. i've not had time to brush myself. tyltyl that doesn't matter. kiss me all the same. how fresh and rosy you are, underneath all that flour!... aimette i shall never dare.... you'd be covered with it.... (_she has hardly finished speaking when, through the other window, enter a fifth young girl, bare-foot, bare-headed, clad in rags and carrying in her hand a wooden bowl with a few halfpence clinking in it. she does not dare come forward_.) tyltyl one more!... (_to_ the fairy.) this is jalline, the little beggar-girl from the bridge by the hermitage. the fairy excellent, excellent!... i'd better wake your father and tell him the house won't be big enough; then he can start building at once.... tyltyl but it's not my fault. i didn't do it on purpose. one can't help loving them!... how are you, jalline?... what have you done with your poor old father? jalline i left him at the bridge. tyltyl what, all alone in the dark! and he blind and a cripple! isn't that very dangerous?... jalline (_on the verge of tears_.) yes, i know it's wrong. it was very wrong of me, very. i won't do it again. but i couldn't help it, tyltyl, really. when you called me, i couldn't stay where i was. tyltyl (_kissing her_.) there, there, don't cry. i'll help you to bring him home.... do you remember, i did that once before, one evening when i was crossing the bridge and gave you a halfpenny: it was all i had! jalline i've kept it ever since, tyltyl. i put it in a box. i shall never lose it. tyltyl (_kissing her again_.) oh, the sweet smell of lavender and thyme!... (_this time the door opens slowly. enter a sixth young girl. she is in evening-dress, with a fur cloak over her shoulders, and carries a fan in her hand_.) tyltyl who is this? the fairy but where do they all come from? at your age too! i should never have believed it!... tyltyl but i didn't know.... (_to_ the fairy.) why, it's rosarelle!... the mayor's daughter!... you know, from the great big farm-house, with the three round turrets, at the other end of the village!... what shall i do? she's so proud!... the fairy not a bit; she won't be any prouder than the others. speak to her and you'll see. tyltyl i'll never dare.... what could i say? rosarelle (_coming forward_.) well, tyltyl, don't you know me? tyltyl yes, miss, but i wasn't sure.... rosarelle miss? what do you mean? that's not my name. my name's rosarelle; and you know it.... there was a big dinner at my father's, for christmas. your thoughts came to fetch me while we were at dessert. i jumped up at once and upset a glass of champagne. they were alarmed and thought i was ill and began to fuss: it was as much as i could do to get away. still, here i am and i'm going to kiss you.... do you remember how we used to look at each other when you came to the yard with your bundles of wood?... tyltyl oh, yes! you were so lovely, i couldn't take my eyes off you.... but you are lovelier than ever to-day. rosarelle that was the beginning; but i didn't quite realize it till the day you gave me the three little bullfinches which you found in the forest. tyltyl yes, yes, i remember.... i knew too.... are they still alive? rosarelle two of the little things are dead; but the third is splendid.... i keep him in a gilt cage, by the window; and each time he sings.... the fairy come, come, these little confidences are most interesting, but we've no time to lose. everything must be settled to-night, for an opportunity like this comes only once to a man; and woe to him who lets it slip: he will never have another chance! but what we have to do now is to put our heads together and prepare for the great choice, which is to decide the happiness of two human beings first and of many others after that. tyltyl (_greatly perturbed_.) must i make my choice at once and can i only choose one?... the fairy don't distress yourself; it's not your affair; it's not you who'll choose.... tyltyl (_utterly bewildered_.) not i who'll choose?... the fairy why, no, it doesn't concern you. tyltyl (_completely stupefied_.) it doesn't concern me?... the fairy no, no, i told you so: of course it doesn't. tyltyl (_failing to understand a word_.) then i can't love whom i want to? the fairy why, no.... nobody loves whom he wants to or does what he wants to in this world. you must first of all learn what is wanted by those on whom you depend. tyltyl by those on whom i depend?... the fairy why, yes: your ancestors, to begin with. tyltyl my ancestors? the fairy all those who have died before you. tyltyl what business is it of theirs, since they're dead? i don't know them. the fairy i dare say not, but they know you.... and then there are all your children. tyltyl my children? what children? i've never had any! the fairy yes, yes, yes, you've had thousands who aren't born yet and who're waiting for the mother whom you're going to give them. tyltyl then it's they who will choose my bride? the fairy why, of course; that's how things always happen.... but let's have no more talk: we have to make a few preparations for the great journey; it's going to be rather long and tiring.... and first we must get some money: i've none left at home; and my magic wand that brings it me is being repaired a few thousand miles down in the centre of the earth ... don't quite see where we're to get what we want: the expenses will be quite heavy.... (_to_ the girls.) has any one of you a few thousand francs on her? jalline i've only sixpence halfpenny in my bowl, besides tyltyl's halfpenny, which i can't part with. roselle i've seven francs fifty, to-night's takings. milette i've nothing at all. rosarelle i've nothing on me, but grandfather's very rich. the fairy that's all right, it's all we need: he can lend us some money. rosarelle yes, but he's a miser! the fairy no, that's a mistake; there are no misers. thanks to the sapphire which reveals the heart and essence of things, you will see that he is no more of a miser than you or i and that he will give us whatever we ask. that's the first visit we shall have to pay.... well, are you all ready? which way shall we go out? (_at this point, a trap-door opens, in the middle of the stage, and from it there rises slowly, like a tower, a gigantic shape, twice a man's height. it is square, enormous, imposing and overwhelming; it gives the impression of a mass of granite and of immense, blind, inflexible force. its face is not seen. it is draped in grey folds that are rigid as rock_.) the shape it's i. you have forgotten me, as usual!... tyltyl (_not a little frightened_.) who is this gentleman? the fairy he's right, i had forgotten him. it's nobody, it's destiny. i didn't foresee that the sapphire would make him visible also. he will have to come with us; we can't prevent him; he's entitled to. give him your hand. tyltyl will he lead us? the fairy that remains to be seen. we must hear what light says: it's a matter for her. tyltyl why, of course. light!... where is she?... isn't she going with us? the fairy yes, yes, but she has a great deal to do at the moment.... she wasn't free this evening.... we shall find her at my place, where we shall go straight from your visit to the miser. tyltyl how glad i shall be to see her again!... she was so nice, so sweet, so beautiful, so affectionate and kind!... the fairy come, give destiny your hand; it's time to start. (tyltyl _stretches out his arm to the monster, who grips the boy's little hand and wrist in his huge bronze-coloured hand_.) tyltyl here you are, sir.... (_giving a cry_.) hi!... it's not a hand. it's a steel vice!... the fairy it's nothing, you'll get used to it.... come, is everything ready at last? nothing more that we've forgotten? then one, two, three and off we go!... (_a knock at the door_.) the fairy (_crossly_.) who's come to disturb us now? shall we never get out of this hovel? (_another knock_.) tyltyl come in!... (_a third knock_.) tyltyl who's there?... come in, can't you?... (_the door opens slowly and reveals a female form shrouded in long white veils, like an antique statue. the face, hands, mouth, eyes, hair and eyebrows are lifeless and white as marble. it stands motionless on the threshold_.) tyltyl what is it? the fairy really, i don't know.... it must be one of those whom you've forgotten.... tyltyl (_vainly ransacking his memory_.) i?... i've forgotten nobody.... i've never seen her before.... i can't remember.... (_going up to_ the veiled form.) who are you? (the veiled form _does not reply_.) the fairy it's no use asking her. she can't tell you, she can't come to life till you remember her. tyltyl but i don't. i'm thinking and trying as hard as i can, but i can find nothing. the fairy very well, very well, we shall see later, when everything is cleared up.... as she blocks the path, we must go out by the window.... come, this way! we have taken our fate in our hands; and things have begun!... destiny excuse me, excuse me! it's i who am fate and it's i who begin and it's i who give orders.... i go first, for it is i who direct everything and i am the only master!... (_the windows open down to the ground and all go out into the starry night, preceded by_ destiny _dragging_ tyltyl _by the hand_. the veiled form _follows them slowly, at a distance_.) curtain act ii scene ii _outside the door_ _the curtain represents a huge double door surmounted with a flattened arch. the door is old, thick and massive, unyielding, bound and studded with iron bars and nails. in the middle of the door is a formidable lock_. (_enter_ the fairy _and_ tyltyl, _who carries an empty wallet over his shoulder_.) the fairy this is the miser's door. tyltyl where are my sweethearts? the fairy at home, in my palace; they'll wait there for you and will be quite safe.... be quick and come back soon. tyltyl what about destiny? i thought he would never leave me again? the fairy that's true; it's curious. but it's not our business to run after him; it's his own affair; he's by no means indispensable. tyltyl are you coming with me to the miser? the fairy no, it's better that you should see him alone.... you're not frightened, are you? tyltyl not a bit; but i don't quite know what i am to do. the fairy it's very simple: when you're in there, you turn the sapphire; and he'll give you anything you want. tyltyl he won't attack me? i've no weapons, you know. the fairy on the contrary, he will be delighted to be of service. tyltyl how shall i get in? there's no bell and no knocker. am i to tap at the door? the fairy do nothing of the sort! that would be giving him a hint; and he would become unmanageable.... but this also is quite simple. i will touch the big lock with my wand; the doors will slide back to right and left; and you will suddenly be on the other side, that is to say, right inside the cave, before he even suspects it. once there, you can keep quiet in your corner for a moment and watch him playing with his gold, if that amuses you; and it will amuse you, for it's rather curious. then, when you've had enough, turn the sapphire. get over there, on the left, against the wall of the arch, so that you can slip into his den at once, without making a noise.... look out! the door will disappear! and i'll take myself off this way!... (_she touches the great lock with her wand_.) scene iii _the miser's cave_ (_the heavy doors open in the middle, slide right and left and disappear in the slips, revealing the whole of_ the miser's _den, an immense cave with low arches in which are piled large sacks bursting with gold, silver and copper coins. the only light comes from a wretched smoking candle_. tyltyl _hides himself as well as he can in a dark corner_. the miser, _an old, hook-nosed man, with a dirty white beard and long, scanty hair, is dressed in a sort of squalid, patched dressing-gown. on the floor is an old carpet, with three sacks bulging with gold at one corner_.) the miser to-day i shall count the contents of these three sacks all over again. i must have made a mistake in my last reckoning. there are three louis missing. three louis are sixty francs, which make a considerable difference in a total of six hundred thousand francs. it's quite impossible to sleep with that anxiety on one's mind. each of these three sacks ought to hold two hundred thousand francs, the first and second in louis of twenty francs and the third in ten-franc pieces. i shall empty them on the carpet first to see what a lovely heap they make.... (_he empties the contents of the first sack on the carpet_.) how they sparkle, how they sparkle!... what a lot of them there are!... when you see the gold spreading itself out, it's impossible to believe that it all could go into one sack!... let's have another.... this is the sack with the little ten-franc pieces.... (_he empties a second sack_.) they are as lovely as the big ones.... they are younger, that's all, and there are more of them.... now let's see what the third holds.... (_he empties the third sack. a few gold coins roll of the carpet. he throws himself flat on the floor to catch them_.) oh, no, oh, no, children!... this won't do!... you mustn't run away like that!... nothing is allowed to leave this cave!... trying to hide yourselves, are you? to go where, pray? don't you know that there's no place like home?... fancy running away like that from daddy! i should never have thought it of you! this way, children, this way, darlings. this way, my pretty ones! back to the heap, back to the cradle, then you'll be happy!... (_he picks up a coin which has rolled farther than the rest_.) don't do it again, you: you're always making off; you're a little torment and you set a bad example. beg my pardon, or i'll punish you. you shall be the first to be spent; i'll give you to a beggar, do you hear?... (_kissing it_.) no, no, i'm only pretending.... there, there, don't cry!... i was merely frightening you.... i love you all the same, but don't do it again!... here, here, here, they're here, in front of me and all around me.... it will take me quite a fortnight to count them all and to weigh them in my scales.... what a lot of them, what a lot of them! and how pretty they are!... i know them every one, i could call them by their names.... they would need a hundred and twenty thousand different names; and each of those names stands for a treasure!... (_he rolls on the carpet amidst the gold_.) i love to see them close!... oh, what a cosy bed! and what a joy it is to be among one's daughters!... for they are my daughters: i brought them into the world; i have nurtured them, protected them from harm, fondled and pampered them; i know their history, the trouble they've given me, but all is forgotten: they love me, i love them and we shall never part again!... oh, what a fine thing happiness is!... (_he fills his two hands with the gold, makes it trickle over his heart, on his forehead and in his heard and utters little sighs of pleasure which gradually swell into roars of delight. suddenly, he shudders, starts and springs up, thinking that he has heard a sound_.) what is it?... who's there?... (_reassuring himself_.) no, no, it's nothing ... no one would dare.... (_he sees_ tyltyl _and gives a shout_.) a thief!... a thief!... a thief!... you here!... you here!... (_with his hands clutching like claws, terrified and terrifying, he rushes upon_ tyltyl, _who jumps back and quickly turns the sapphire_. the miser _stops short. after an inward struggle which seems violent and lasts for some seconds, his hands drop to his sides, his face brightens and loses its hardness. he seems to wake from a bad dream and tries to wipe the memory of it from his forehead. he gazes with astonishment at the gold spread over the carpet, feels and pushes it with his foot, seems not to know what it is and then addresses_ tyltyl _in a very calm and gentle voice_.) the miser you must have awakened me.... how did you get here?... what have you come for?... tyltyl i've come to ask you to lend me a little money.... i understand that i want some in order to discover my bride.... the miser have you anything to put it in? tyltyl i've brought this wallet. the miser i shall be delighted to fill it for you; but i warn you that gold is very heavy and that you won't be able to carry it away. tyltyl you must put in just what you think fit. the miser (_pouring the gold by handfuls into the wallet_.) help me, will you?... we'll fill it to the brim and see how that does.... we can easily lighten it afterwards, if it's too heavy.... tyltyl oh, you're giving me too much, i don't want all that!... so you're not a miser, as they told me? the miser i? not at all. why should i be?... i have only a few weeks to live and am not in need of anything.... i hardly eat at all; and i drink nothing but water. tyltyl why were you lying on your gold when i came in, kissing it and calling it by pet names? you seemed to worship it. the miser oh, i don't know! it amuses me. when a man grows old, he has to amuse himself as best he can.... but it isn't i who do it. all that is only a sort of dream. i am thinking of something very different.... all men are like that at my age. they are not often where you see them; they are not often doing what they appear to do; and every one lives in one of those dreams which have nothing to do with the truth.... but this is not the moment to explain things to you.... there, your wallet it full. can you lift it? tyltyl (_making an effort_.) no, really, it is a bit too heavy.... let's take some of it out.... the miser (_emptying part of the wallet_.) i daresay that's better. tyltyl oh, look here, you're taking it all!... there won't be enough left.... i must put a little of it back.... the miser i say, are you becoming a miser now? tyltyl no, but i don't know that i shall have a chance of coming back again.... just help me lift the wallet on my shoulder.... the miser (_helping him with the wallet_.) there you are! tyltyl (_staggering under the load_.) i say, what a weight gold is! the miser don't i know it?... have you far to go? tyltyl i really can't tell. the miser what's the weather like outside? tyltyl it was bright sunshine. the miser one wouldn't think it in here.... fancy, it's years since i've looked at the sky or the green trees!... but you can't breathe under the weight of your bag, you poor little man!... come, kiss me good-bye: there's no knowing when we shall meet again.... thanks for the pleasant time you have given me and especially for waking me up.... i shall make the most of my remaining days.... tyltyl which is the way out? the miser that way, i suppose. (tyltyl _steps forward through the arch. the doors at once slide and close behind him and he is left standing alone, in the dark, in front of the great shut door_.) tyltyl it's dark.... i'm all alone.... where am i?... where am i to go? destiny (_looming up out of the shadow_.) this way! tyltyl hullo! you're there, are you? i thought you had deserted me.... destiny (_grasping his hand_.) i was here all the time.... i never lose sight of you.... tyltyl yes, but, i say, don't walk so fast!... my bag's frightfully heavy.... it would be much kinder of you if you helped me to carry it a little, instead of making me rush along like this.... destiny i am not man's servant.... forward, forward, forward!... (_they go out_.) scene iv _a closet in the fairy's palace_ _a sort of waiting-room or lumber-room containing the principal accessories of the tales of mother goose: cinderella's pumpkin and glass slipper; red ridinghood's cake and bowl; hop-o'-my-thumb's pebbles; the ogre's daughters' golden crowns; the sleeping beauty's distaff and snake-tub; the giant's seven-leagued hoots; blue beard's key; the blue bird in his silver cage; and, hanging from the wall, catskin's weather-coloured, moon-coloured and sun-coloured dresses. all these things look rather tawdry in the grey and unbecoming light_. tyltyl's _seven little friends are locked up in this room. in the same unsympathetic light they look much less pretty than when they entered the cottage and they seem rather tired, discontented and glum, except_ the veiled girl, _who stands on one side, motionless, impassive and unrevealing_. belline where have they brought us? rosarelle i don't know; but i must say that it's not a nice place in which to keep young ladies waiting. belline yes, it looks like a lumber-room where they've stored all the odds and ends and litter of the house. rosarelle (_touching the various objects in disgust_.) what's this? a distaff? bless me, what for?... a pumpkin, a cake, an old bowl and goodness knows what else!... a tub full of dead eels! gracious, how they smell!... it's all disgracefully kept.... and that lot of old fly-blown, spun-glass dresses!... my dear, how horrible!... what sort of place can this be? a potting-shed, a rag-and-bone shop, a pawn-broker's, or a thieves' kitchen? whom can it belong to? a receiver of stolen goods? (_touching the more bizarre dresses_.) or a hottentot dressmaker? belline there's something of everything ... except a broom and a duster. rosarelle one wouldn't be enough. belline and nothing to sit on but an old wooden bench.... rosarelle but it's carved, my love!... belline yes, carved in dust. rosarelle reach me one of those hideous rags and let me wipe it.... belline (_eagerly and obsequiously_.) wait, miss, i'll do that.... (_she takes the moon-coloured dress and dusts the seat with it_.) there, that's a little better; that's at least one corner nearly clean enough to sit on. rosarelle (_sitting down_.) i'm tired out! belline (_sitting down beside her_.) so am i; my feet are dreadfully sore. rosarelle (_looking around through her lorgnette_.) but what i want to know is where have we got to? my dear, have we fallen into a trap? belline the company certainly is a little mixed. there's the miller's daughter, the girl from the inn, the wood-cutter.... rosarelle or rather, to be accurate, the wood-stealer.... there's even the little beggar-girl from the bridge by the hermitage, to whom i refused a penny last sunday.... my dear, you should have heard the insolent way in which she asked for it!... belline and what's that white image standing in the corner, the one that never stirs, never speaks and follows us wherever we go? rosarelle that great lump of clay, that ugly wax-work? that washed-out plaster saint? belline she looks very ill. rosarelle she may have jewish leprosy or zanzibar plague or bombay cholera.... i tell you, we must be careful: that's all very catching.... aimette (_coming up to the bench timidly_.) i should like to sit down too, i'm very tired.... rosarelle mind what you're about, miss!... there's dust enough as it is; i don't want flour into the bargain. roselle what's all this, what's all this? are we turning up our nose at flour now? rosarelle i wasn't addressing my remarks to you, madam. roselle no, but i'm speaking to you. what bread would you eat if you had no flour? rosarelle you would do better to tell your father to pay the three quarters' rent that's in arrear. roselle he'll pay his rent when your horrid old miser of a grandfather has seen to those repairs. we've been asking to have them done these last three years. belline is it the repairs that prevent your father from paying his butcher's bills? roselle does he owe anything at your shop? belline it's six months since we saw the colour of his money. roselle he's waiting to see the colour of yours at the inn. belline of mine indeed? you can wait a long time before i set foot in your dirty dram-shop. roselle yes, but that father of yours isn't so squeamish when he comes on sundays and tipples till we have to put him out dead-drunk. rosarelle don't answer her, my dear; we are not accustomed to these pot-house brawls. roselle as for you, miss, who pretend to be so particular, you just go and ask your father, the mayor, who it was that nibbled the holes, which were not made by rats, in the town's cash-box. rosarelle (_springing to her feet, furiously_.) holes which were not made by rats! what do you mean? roselle i mean what every one in the village means!... rosarelle mind what you're saying; and say it again if you dare. roselle well, what would you do if i did say it again? you don't frighten me with your airs and graces. rosarelle never mind my airs and graces; i'll soon show you what i'll do. roselle well, then, i do say it again. rosarelle (_boxing her ears_.) and take that for your answer!... (_piercing screams and a general turmoil_. roselle and aimette _make a rush at_ belline _and_ rosarelle, _while_ milette _and_ jalline _vainly try to separate the combatants_. the veiled girl _alone remains motionless in her corner, as though she were not present. the others claw one another's faces, tear one another's hair and end by uttering such piercing yells and shrieks that_ tyltyl, _returning from the_ miser's, _hears them from the far end of the palace and comes running up, scared and dismayed. he is bare-headed and only half-dressed and does not understand what is going on_.) tyltyl what is it? what's the matter? what has happened? an accident? are you hurt? what have you been doing? the girls (_all speaking together_.) it's she!... no, no, it was rosarelle who began!... i tell you, it was she!... she insulted me!... she boxed my ears!... she dared to talk against my father!... she spoke ill of my mother!... she's lying, she's lying!... she nearly pulled my ear off!... she's driven a hairpin into my cheek!... (_enter_ the fairy.) the fairy why, what's the matter? tyltyl (_in bewilderment_.) i don't know, ma'am. i think they must have gone mad. they were so sweet when i left them. i should never have known them!... look, look, they are quite different!... rosarelle and belline's eyes are blazing like furies', aimette looks so spiteful and roselle so brazen, jalline hasn't washed herself and milette's cheeks are as red as a turkey-cock's.... (_bursting into tears and hiding his eyes with his arm, like a child crying_.) i can't bear it! oh, i can't bear it! the fairy but, you little silly, it's your own fault! tyltyl my fault? the fairy yes, of course, it's your fault.... and, first, where have you come from? what have you done with your jacket and your green hat? tyltyl why, ma'am, i was busy dressing; i was putting on the little pair of silk breeches and the jacket embroidered with pearls which you told me i was to wear when i went to see the ancestors.... then i heard screams, dropped everything, ran up and found them fighting, tearing out one another's hair and scratching one another's faces.... the fairy a pretty business!... that will teach you to run after them without your talisman, which reveals the truth.... i call it most incorrect and improper.... don't you see that you are not seeing them now as they are?... tyltyl i'm not seeing them as they are?... then how do i see them?... the fairy why, as they are not, that is to say, as you ought never to see them.... it's all so wonderfully simple: anything that's ugly isn't true, never has been true and never will be. tyltyl that's easily said; but you see what you do see. the fairy when you see what you do see, you see nothing at all.... i've told you before, it's what you do not see that makes the world go round.... all this doesn't count; it's only a little foam on the surface of the ocean.... but run quickly and fetch the sapphire and we shall once more see deep down into their souls, the truth of their hearts and the well-spring of their life.... wait, you needn't trouble: i see light coming; she has brought you your hat. (_enter_ light.) light good-evening, tyltyl. tyltyl (_throwing himself passionately into her arms_.) oh, light, light!... it's my dear light!... where were you?... what have you been doing ever since i saw you last?... i have missed you so much and looked for you so often!... light my dear little tyltyl!... i have never lost sight of you.... i have guided you and counselled you and kissed you very often, without your knowing it.... but we will talk about all this later; to-day we have no time; i have only one night to give you and there is a great deal to be done. (_enter_ destiny.) destiny where is tyltyl? tyltyl here. i'm not trying to hide. destiny and quite right too, for it would be no use; there's no escaping me.... tyltyl (_contemplating him in astonishment_.) but what's the matter with you?... what has happened to you? you look so much smaller!... you seem to be less tall and less broad.... you're not ill, are you?... destiny (_who has indeed shrunk appreciably_.) i? i never change, i am always the same; i am insuperable, insensible, invulnerable, immutable, inexorable, irresistible, invisible, inflexible and irrevocable!... tyltyl all right, all right, what i said was merely.... the fairy (_aside, to_ tyltyl.) be quiet, you will only vex him and he will get out of hand.... it is probably being so close to light that has upset him; they never did agree.... (_aloud_.) come, children, it's time.... put on your hat, tyltyl, and turn the sapphire; we shall see what happens: sometimes it works upon people's hearts, sometimes on their minds, sometimes on the objects around them and often on all three; one cannot tell before-hand.... (_he turns the sapphire. the closet brightens with a blue and supernatural light which gives beauty and life to everything in the room; the accessories of mother goose seem to wake up: the spindle revolves madly and unreels threads of gold and crystal; the pumpkin swells, sways from side to side and lights up; the blue bird bursts into song; the snake-tub bubbles and pours forth fruits and flowers; the moon-coloured and sun-coloured dresses wave and glitter; the columns and aisles gleam with precious stones. but the group of_ girls _especially undergoes a radical and wonderful transformation: their features relax, their eyes open wider, smiles blossom on their lips, their frocks become gay and splendid, innocence, gladness, kindness and beauty bloom once more; and_ tyltyl, _in an ecstasy, clapping his hands, intoxicated with delight, rushes into the midst of them, giving and receiving kisses and not knowing which of them to listen to_.) tyltyl they're themselves again, they're themselves again!... how lovely they are, how lovely they are!... jalline, milette my darling, aimette, belline darling, rosarelle, roselle!... they are all as they were before and i love every one of them!... let us kiss again, again, again!... oh, let us kiss for ever!... (_at this moment_, the veiled girl, _who has played no part in the transfiguration or in the general ecstasy, staggers in her corner and, without uttering a sound, falls suddenly and unresistingly, like a statue, and lies motionless, stretched on the floor. silence, terror and consternation, followed by cries and bustle_; the girls _rush to her assistance and gather eagerly round her_.) roselle (_lifting her up_.) help me, somebody! rosarelle she isn't hurt, is she? roselle (_examining her anxiously_.) no, no, i can't see anything. aimette (_stroking her forehead_.) she's breathing, she's sighing. rosarelle (_kissing her_.) she has only fainted.... tell us what you feel.... you're not in pain, dear, are you? milette she doesn't answer. jalline (_taking one of her hands and stroking it_.) perhaps she's hungry. milette (_stroking the other hand_.) no, can't you feel? she's cold. jalline will you have my cloak? roselle no, no, it's not that.... what she wants is a drop of brandy.... i haven't my bottle.... and don't all crowd round her, she's suffocating. she wants air!... rosarelle (_supporting her head_.) have you some water there?... we ought to send for a doctor.... belline she's as white as marble.... she might be dead.... rosarelle no, no, she's coming to.... i can hear her heart beating.... the fairy (_intervening_.) come, come, it's nothing.... i have practised medicine longer than men have and know a little more about it. do not be uneasy; there is nothing to fear; i will undertake to cure her.... but we are wasting precious time, the night is passing and we shall get nothing done.... (_to_ the girls.) come, dears, go and dress yourselves; your cloaks are waiting for you and everything is ready. just follow light; she will advise you.... we will meet in the great ballroom of the palace.... (the girls _go out, preceded by_ light. _to_ destiny.) you too, destiny, follow light; you want another costume. you can't go as you are. one must not be conspicuous, especially at this moment.... (destiny _obeys, grudgingly_.) i don't quite know how to dress the fellow. however, light will think of something: she has more imagination than i.... let's see to the little patient. she's better.... (_helping her to rise_.) there, there.... sit down on this bench.... no?... you prefer to stand up?... as you please: in that case, lean against the column, for the walls will soon disappear.... now that we are alone, tyltyl, will you tell me at last, between ourselves, who that girl is?... tyltyl but, ma'am, i don't know at all.... the fairy you must make an effort.... she can't live unless you remember who she is.... it's a great responsibility. tyltyl but it's not my fault.... i've done what i could; i can't make it out. the fairy so much the worse for you. i can't understand it either.... come, get dressed. here's the little jacket which light brought you.... and now, with one stroke of the wand, we will enter the ballroom and see what your little friends have made of themselves. (_she touches the panels of the closet, which disappear_.) scene v _a ballroom in the fairy's palace_ (_all that remains standing is the columns and aisles forming the portico of an immense, luminous room, which might have been hewn and carved out of a mountain of amber. under the dazzling arches_ the six girls _move about, arrayed in resplendent, trailing gowns, with their feet encased in gilt sandals, their hair hanging loose and their hands filled with flowers. they joyously beckon to_ tyltyl, _who, at first dumbfounded, rushes towards them and joins in their games and dances_. the veiled girl _alone stands on one side, leaning against the column_.) the fairy (_observing_ destiny, _draped in a long black cape, with a broad-brimmed spanish sombrero on his head_.) i say, there's destiny!... she has dressed him like the villain in a play!... (_clapping her hands_.) come, children, it is time to be starting.... all this doesn't count: the real work is about to begin.... curtain act iii scene vi _before the curtain representing rocks_ (_enter_ tyltyl _and_ light.) tyltyl (_out of breath, dropping on to a boulder_.) they live a long way up, the ancestors!... aren't you tired? light no, i was born in the mountains. tyltyl (_bending over a crevice_.) you're not like destiny, who has almost given out.... he's still at the bottom of the last precipice, with my little friends.... he stumbles at every step and is limping badly.... they won't be here yet awhile; and i am very glad to have a moment alone with you, before they come, for i have a lot of things to ask you.... light ask me anything you like, dear; i will do my best to answer. tyltyl what do you think of these little friends of mine?... if you had to choose, which would you take?... light i like them all, but it is not for me to choose; no one but yourself can tell which one you love best. tyltyl ah, that's not so easy!... you see, i love them all!... for instance, i love little jalline, the beggar's daughter: she is so gentle and sweet, such a darling!... light yes, she is very attractive: a pretty little creature, with a pure and simple mind.... tyltyl but i also love the mayor's daughter, rosarelle.... she is really very beautiful, not a bit conceited and much better-educated than the others.... and then think of what she has done: she has left everything to go with me.... light yes, that is the proof of a real love.... tyltyl but i also love roselle, the inn-keeper's daughter, who is a very pretty girl, so healthy and strong and frank and brave and cheerful and amusing: you can't think how kind and affectionate she is.... light yes, she has qualities; and i too find her very sympathetic.... tyltyl but i also love the wood-cutter's daughter, milette.... she has such beautiful eyes and hair!... at first she seems a little awkward, a little shy; but it's quite different when you know her: she is really very playful and full of fun.... and then, have you noticed her mouth and her teeth? light yes, i've noticed them.... tyltyl but i also love belline, the butcher's daughter.... to begin with, she's my cousin; and one always loves one's cousins. and then there's something about her dark beautiful eyes that frightens me rather. i adore that.... but she's not unkind, not at all.... have you noticed her smile? one can never tell exactly what it means.... light yes, she has a strange smile.... tyltyl but i also love the miller's daughter, aimette.... to begin with, she's also my cousin.... she keeps her eyes lowered under her long, curling eyelashes; she blushes when you look at her and weeps when you speak to her.... she looks a little silly; well, she's not that at all. she's quite different when you know her a bit.... she's very bright and very jolly and whispers such nice, sweet things to you that you at once want to kiss her.... light i can see that the choice will not be easy. tyltyl which do you think the best? light there are neither better nor worse; each one is as good as the other; and all are good when they suffer or when they love. tyltyl the nuisance is that it seems you mustn't love more than one.... tell me, though, is that true, or is it only one of the things people say to children just to keep them quiet? light no, it's true. when you love many, that merely shows that you haven't yet found the one whom you were to love. tyltyl but, after all, you, who know everything and see everything, must know better than i and can tell me what i ought to do. light no, dear, that is beyond me, beyond the range of my sight. it is for this very reason that we are going to consult those who do know; and they are near at hand, because it is in you that they live. we seem to be taking a great journey: that is an illusion; we are not going outside yourself and all our adventures are happening within you.... but i hear your little friends. where is your green hat? tyltyl here. i took it off because i felt hot. light put it on again quickly, so that there may be no more misunderstandings, and turn the sapphire. (_he does so. forthwith, on every side, all sorts of monsters emerge from the ground and from between the rocks: monsters with more or less human or animal shapes and grotesque, brutish or repulsive faces. they hustle_ tyltyl, _gather together and dance round him_.) tyltyl (_terrified_.) hullo, hullo, what's all this?... light nothing. you must have turned the sapphire from left to right. tyltyl so i did, i believe; i forgot.... but what do they want with me? they are pushing up against me and snapping at my feet. light they won't hurt you; they are merely your own thoughts, which you sometimes secretly think; now you have set them free and they are showing themselves for an instant as they are. tyltyl what!... are my thoughts as ugly as that?... i should never have believed it!... light don't take it so much to heart!... they are not as ugly as some, because you are still innocent and very young.... if you were to see those of other men!... besides, you have beautiful ones; but they are more reluctant to show themselves.... however, i see the girls coming.... turn the sapphire from right to left, so that we may get rid of these monsters, whom they must not see.... (_he does so; and the creatures go back into the ground. enter_ the six girls, _preceded by_ destiny _and followed, at a distance, by_ the white phantom, _who keeps on one side. they surround_ tyltyl, _overwhelming him with caresses and all speaking at the same time_.) the girls good-evening, tyltyl!... we've found you again!... we were so anxious about you!... we couldn't keep up with you.... aren't you tired?... may we kiss you?... destiny held us back.... i wanted to run.... he stood in the way.... aren't you too hot?... mind you don't catch cold.... kiss me too!... and me too!... and me too!... tyltyl (_distributing kisses all round_.) my sweethearts!... what darlings you are, and how happy i feel!... i hope i have not made you walk too fast?... you must forgive me; i am rather in a hurry.... jalline dear, you haven't hurt your foot, have you?... and you, rosarelle? you are not used to climbing rocks.... aimette's hands are cold and roselle has made herself much too hot.... light come, we will talk about all this later. we must now hasten to the ancestors, who are waiting for us and would be very much annoyed if we arrived late.... destiny (_who has grown smaller still and is now hardly taller than a man of average height. he seems very tired and sits huddled on a boulder_.) not a step farther!... tyltyl hullo! you've grown a bit smaller again!... destiny i? i've not changed. i am always the same, i am.... tyltyl i know, i know.... it's light being so near, perhaps.... destiny light and i have nothing in common.... in any event, i alone am master and i order a halt.... light by all means; there is no need to go any farther. we have arrived; we are here without taking another step, at the abode of the ancestors.... (_the curtain parts and opens upon the next scene_.) scene vii _the abode of the ancestors_ _a large open space, under an elysian light, which imparts to all things an aspect of ethereal and lasting felicity and unchanging gladness. the back and the two sides of the square are formed of dwelling-places of different periods, some stately, some lowly, but all radiant and a little unreal. in the foreground, on the right, for instance, is the entrance to the cottage of_ tyltyl's _grandparents; next comes the gable of a farm-house of older date; then the front of a little eighteenth-century shop; and thus in succession, running from right to left and across the back, a seventeenth-century town-house, a sixteenth-century prison, tavern and hospital, a fifteenth-century mansion; some thirteenth-century hovels, a twelfth-century church, a gallo-roman farm and villa, and so on. intersecting the background at the middle is a street in endless perspective, bordered with the very oldest houses and leading to the huts and caves of primitive mankind. in the foreground are a few stone benches standing under fine trees, laurels, plane-trees or cypresses_. (tyltyl, light, destiny _and_ the six girls _come forward, followed at a distance by_ the white phantom, _who keeps to one side as usual. they have taken but a few steps when_ gaffer _and_ granny tyl _come hurrying out of their cottage and, with exclamations of delight, throw themselves into_ tyltyl's _arms_.) granny tyl tyltyl! tyltyl!... gracious, you again!... but this time it's not a surprise. we were expecting you; we were told three days ago.... all the same, though, we're so glad to see you that it's difficult to believe at first.... but how big and strong you've grown, dear! and so good-looking: i should never have known you!... oh, dear, how nice it is to get a kiss like this now and again!... gaffer tyl haven't you brought mytyl this time?... granny tyl of course he hasn't; you know it's not her turn yet.... we know what you're here for, tyltyl: it's not to see us! you needn't blush!... you young rascal, you scamp!... there, there, you're quite right; and the sooner you set about it the better.... so it's one of these girls they have to choose? tyltyl yes, granny, it seems so. gaffer tyl (_eyeing them like an expert_.) ho, ho!... and, my word, a very nice lot too! my compliments! i admire your taste.... (_pointing to_ roselle.) if i were you, i'd choose that one: she's the prettiest and the plumpest. granny tyl hold your tongue; no one's asking your advice: you know you've no say in the matter. we're still too young; we've hardly begun to get cold and haven't had time yet to pick up things.... it takes so long; there's so much to learn!... but the others, especially the oldest, who now are the youngest: it's they who know everything.... tyltyl what? the oldest are the youngest in this country?... granny tyl yes, it seems one gets younger as one grows older.... i'm beginning to notice it myself. tyltyl that's odd.... but where on earth are they?... i see nobody.... gaffer tyl they'll come very soon.... i wonder they're not here yet. tyltyl are there many of them? granny tyl what do you think! all your ancestors since the world began! there'd be so many that we shouldn't know where to put them!... but we shall only see a few of them. a good many are travelling in other worlds; and, as a fact, some of the oldest are always away. but those who are on the spot choose in the name of all. they always agree; and it seems they very seldom make a mistake.... but here's one coming out of his house. you see the little man shutting up his shop? (_a spruce_ little man _is seen leaving the eighteenth-century shop_.) tyltyl who's he? granny tyl it's your grandfather's grandfather; he was a grocer at versailles in the reign of louis the fifteenth. tyltyl what funny clothes! granny tyl he has put on the things which he wore in his shop.... here, as a rule, the weather is so mild, the air so warm and balmy, that we've no need to dress ourselves; but you wouldn't be able to see us if we had no clothes; and so, in your honour, we've put on those we used to wear on earth.... it'll be quite amusing: some of them date back ever so far.... look, there they come, out of the houses they once lived in.... (_enter from the town-house a_ citizen _of the time of louis xiv; from the sixteenth-century prison a_ prisoner _still wearing chains and irons on his feet and hands. his shackles now seem to be light and cause him no inconvenience. he attracts_ tyltyl's _attention_.) tyltyl who is that one? was he chained up? granny tyl yes, he is one of your ancestors who spent nearly all his life in prison. tyltyl it's not a thing to boast of; he'd have done better to stay at home. granny tyl he did nothing wrong. he used to steal bread or other little things which one could eat, to keep his children from starving. he suffered a great deal; we think a lot of him.... (the ancestors _continue to leave their houses. an imposing and richly-dressed_ man _appears on the threshold of the fifteenth-century mansion_.) tyltyl (_pointing to him_.) and that one? gaffer tyl that one is the richest.... it appears we were very rich at one time, but that didn't last.... however, it doesn't matter here: the only thing that counts, it seems, is what a man has done or thought.... for instance, you see those beggars over there, coming out of the church? (_enter from the twelfth-century church some four or five_ beggars, _clad in rags that are pitiful to look at, but idealized by the fairy atmosphere_.) tyltyl yes, any number of them. gaffer tyl well, it seems that several generations of us were beggars.... we succeeded one another, father and son, at the same church and in the same doorway. it was very good for us, they say. it taught us patience, resignation, endurance, temperance and the habit of never catching cold.... but do you see the oldest, the one who looks poorest of all? tyltyl the one with the beautiful white beard? gaffer tyl precisely.... well, he's the great mendicant, the one whom we respect most, first because he has an iron constitution and next because he appears to have thought a very great deal in his corner under the porch.... they say it's he who did most to develop our brains. tyltyl but i don't see any women among them. where are their wives? weren't they married? granny tyl of course they were; but there's nothing for us women to do to-day. the men choose the women and the women the men.... when mytyl comes, it will be our turn. tyltyl look, there are three more. (_a diseased_ man _comes out of the hospital; another, carrying a bottle and looking rather tipsy, out of the tavern; and, lastly, out of the prison, a third figure, hairy and savage of aspect, brandishing a blood-stained knife_.) gaffer tyl (_dismayed_.) i don't like this.... it's very tiresome that they should have been told.... tyltyl why, who are they? gaffer tyl an ugly lot, those three: the sick man, the drunkard and the murderer.... they've done us a deal of harm. tyltyl then there was a murderer in the family? gaffer tyl of course, as in every family. fortunately, none of the three has much influence over us. as you see, they are small and sickly; they shrink from century to century and are nothing like as healthy as the others.... but it won't do for them to meddle in your choice.... if the great peasant, the great mendicant and the great ancestor are there, all will go well: the others won't dare to breathe a word; if not, they will try to force their choice upon you and that will be a bad thing for you and for the future of the entire family. (_enter from the old farm-house a tall_ peasant, _dressed in the mediaeval style. he closes the door carefully and steps forward whittling a switch_.) gaffer tyl here comes the great peasant! that's good, that's good! tyltyl that long, thin fellow? gaffer tyl he certainly isn't fat; but he has great influence. he is one of the mainstays of the family. (_next enter from the villa one or two_ gallo-romans _and then, from the hack of the street, among other_ men _of the stone age, an exceedingly tall old_ man, _dressed in skins and leaning on a heavy club_.) tyltyl why, we've got right back to savages now! gaffer tyl that's the one! tyltyl who? gaffer tyl the great ancestor! tyltyl what? the one like an ape, with the big stick? gaffer tyl you _must_ be quiet!... don't treat him with disrespect!... it's a great favour that he's showing you; he doesn't often go out.... of all our race he's the most important, the greatest, the most respected.... everything's shaping well: it'll probably be he, the great peasant and the great mendicant who will put their heads together and choose your bride for you. tyltyl (_indignantly_.) but i won't have that!... it doesn't concern them!... what do they know about it?... a peasant, a savage and a beggar: what next? gaffer tyl hold your tongue, i say!... i tell you, they represent all that is best in you and in the whole family. if you obey them, if you submit to their influence, you will be happy and safe.... mind now! they're coming.... (the ancestors _have been gradually collecting at the back of the stage. they bow, accost one another, shake hands, exchange compliments. all show affectionate respect to_ the great peasant, the great mendicant _and especially_ the great ancestor, _gathering around them and listening deferentially to what they say. on the other hand_, the sick man, the drunkard _and_ the murderer _are left standing apart, forming a pitiful rear-guard. the group now moves towards the benches in the foreground, where_ tyltyl _and his companions are gathered_.) the great ancestor (_coming forward_.) good-evening, tyltyl! tyltyl good-evening ... sir! the great ancestor kiss me first. don't be afraid. i look rather savage, but it is only a shape which i had to put on in order to make myself visible to you. i had no other handy.... but i am really quite clean and i don't smell bad. tyltyl i never said you did! the great ancestor no, but to judge by the grimace you made you weren't quite sure!... (_sitting down on the middle bench_.) i will sit down here; the great mendicant will take his seat on my right and the great peasant on my left. they don't smell either.... (the great mendicant _and_ the great peasant _take their seats; the other_ ancestors _stand behind him_.) and i will take you on my knees.... i am glad to hold you in my arms for a moment.... we have known each other so long! tyltyl i don't remember ever seeing you before. the great ancestor and yet we have always lived in each other; for you were already living in me when i was on earth; and now i live in you while you are still on that same earth, which we seem to have quitted.... but what do you think of this place of ours?... let me have the pleasure of showing you over your home. tyltyl my home? the great ancestor certainly.... you are at home here.... and a very nice home it is.... everything you see--this square, that prison, the church, those houses, we who live in them--all this is really only inside yourself.... people rarely see it, they don't even suspect it; but it's true. tyltyl i should never have thought there was so much room inside myself and that it was so large.... the great ancestor it's much larger really; there's a great deal that you don't see.... but that is not what interests us to-day; let us come straight to the point, to the great question that brings you here.... we are going to choose the woman whom you are to love.... tyltyl since you are so kind, there's one thing i should like to ask you.... the great ancestor ask me any questions you please. tyltyl how is it that i have not, like other men, the right to choose the woman i love? the great ancestor but you have the right to choose and are here for the sole purpose of making that choice. tyltyl no, they tell me that it's you and the others who will make it. the great ancestor but i and the others are all you.... you are we, we are you; and it's all the same thing. tyltyl not for me.... they keep on telling me to hold my tongue, that it's not my business, that it's no concern of mine.... everybody's allowed to get a word in, except me.... i've had enough, i'm sick and tired of it!... where do i come in? that's what i want to know! the great ancestor you're simply acting as all men act when they think they are doing what they want to do. tyltyl but, after all, dash it, what business is it of yours? i can understand, in a way, that the children i may one day have should claim some right to select their mother; but the rest of you, over here, what difference can it make to you? the great ancestor don't you see that it's all the same? those who have lived in you live in you just as much as those who are going to. there is no difference, it all connects and it's still the same family. tyltyl as you please, but i can't make it out.... and, if i refuse to obey, if i love just for myself, if i take a different girl from the one they want to force on me, what will they do then? what will happen? the great ancestor merely this, that the choice you will have made for yourself, without our approval, will not be a real choice; in other words, you will not love the woman whom you thought you loved. you will have made a mistake, you will be unhappy and, at the same time, you will make all of us unhappy, those who came before you as well as those who come after. tyltyl does that often happen? the great ancestor very often, far too often: that is why you see so many unhappy people on earth. tyltyl well, what am i to do? the great ancestor where are your little friends?... would you mind coming a little nearer, dear ladies?... (_gazing with attention at_ the six girls, _who come forward and stand in front of him_.) well, well, you have set us our task, but you have made it very difficult: how is one to select when all are equally beautiful? the great mendicant they are really very handsome. the great peasant and they appear to be very healthy, very quiet and very hard-working. the great ancestor do you recognize the one among them for whom we are waiting? the great mendicant not yet. the great ancestor it's strange, neither do i.... (_to_ the great peasant.) and you? the great peasant i can't say that i don't and i can't say that i do. the great ancestor it's strange, very strange. and yet we know that the one who will make us happy has arrived and is here among us. we generally recognize her at the first glance. the great mendicant i can't understand it. the rich ancestor (_standing behind the bench, pointing to_ rosarelle.) isn't it that one?... what's your name, my dear? rosarelle rosarelle. the rich ancestor who are you? rosarelle the daughter of the mayor. the rich ancestor are you rich? rosarelle my father has money, i believe. the rich ancestor you see? there is no doubt about it. the sick ancestor (_pointing to_ aimette.) i say it's that one. the drunken ancestor (_taking hold of_ roselle.) this is the one i want. the murderer ancestor (_leaping over the bench and taking hold of_ belline.) and i take this one! the great ancestor (_rising, in an authoritative tone_.) be silent ... and withdraw!... _(with an imperious gesture_.) begone!... you know that you have lost the right to raise your voice in my presence!... (_the four dissentient_ ancestors, _addressed in these terms, move away crestfallen_.) the other ancestors (_grouped behind the bench, clapping their hands_.) hear! hear!... well done!... it's what they deserve!... they have been wrong too often!... they have done too much harm!... they would be the ruin of the family!... jalline (_going to_ the great mendicant _and clasping his knees_.) perhaps i'm the one.... i love him so! milette (_going to_ the great peasant _and clasping his knees_.) if you want to know how much i love him, look at me and see. aimette (_going to_ the great ancestor _and clasping his knees_.) can't you see that i have loved him longer than the others? i have loved him since i first set eyes on him. i never dared say so; but i feel that i shall die if you choose another. the great ancestor my poor children, it is very sad, but my hands are tied. you will perhaps cry for a few hours; but, if we chose one of you, she would spend her whole life crying, for i do not see among you the one for whom we are waiting.... tyltyl! tyltyl yes? the great ancestor have you brought us no one else, besides those we see here? tyltyl no, no one else. the great mendicant i see a tall white figure over there, against a tree; who is it? tyltyl i really don't know. she follows us all the time, squeezes in wherever we go, nobody knows her; and we can't get rid of her. the great ancestor go and fetch her. (tyltyl _fetches_ the white phantom _and brings her back, holding her by the hand_.) the great ancestor who are you? tyltyl it's no use asking her. she never answers; she can't talk. the great ancestor (_to_ the phantom.) come nearer, child, and let me lift the veil that covers your face.... (_he removes the veil. the statue's face appears, absolutely white, featureless and devoid of human expression_.) she has no face.... (_to the other_ ancestors _standing around them_.) do you know her? the great peasant she has no expression. the great mendicant she has no features.... she is like an unfinished statue. the great ancestor what are we to do? it must be she. but who is she? she is not dead, or we should know it.... come, tyltyl, make an effort, for everything depends on you. you must remember.... tyltyl i have tried my utmost.... do what i will, i can't remember at all. the great ancestor listen, it is a serious matter. if we do not succeed in recognizing her, all your life, all your happiness on earth will be nothing more than a phantom like herself.... there is one last resource, one last hope, which is that the children who are to be born of you may discover who she is and that she is to be their mother. they see much farther and deeper than we. but there is no time to lose; for this waiting and this living in suspense are very dangerous for her. we must be quick therefore; we must not waste a moment ... go, my little tyltyl. you have been very good and patient, very obedient and faithful to your race throughout this ordeal. take this kiss and farewell.... you too, my dears, let me give you the parting kiss. do not be too sad; another happiness awaits you. there is more than one kind on that poor misguided earth of yours. you have deserved every happiness that it can give.... good-bye, my dear daughters; good-bye, good-bye, my son. and we will meet again whenever you wish: you know where to find us and we shall be waiting for you.... (_the scene grows dark and disappears from view; the curtain of rocks closes; and_ tyltyl, the girls, light _and_ destiny _are once more alone among the boulders_.) destiny (_seizing_ tyltyl's _hand_.) this way, this way!... thanks to me, it went off very well!... i said nothing about it; but it was i who foresaw everything and planned everything; and all that has been done was ordained by me.... (_they all go out_.) curtain act iv scene viii _before the curtain representing the milky way_ (_enter_ tyltyl _and_ light.) tyltyl where are we? light near to the stars and yet within yourself. before you is the great veil of the milky way. beyond it stretches the region in which your unborn children are waiting to show you the mother whom they have chosen. tyltyl it's a little like the kingdom of the future in "the blue bird." light perhaps; and yet not quite the same thing. there it was the whole kingdom, with everybody's children; here it is only a province, in which are no children but yours. tyltyl have i many? light as many children as you have ancestors, as innumerable and no less infinite. but, as with the ancestors, we shall see only those who are nearest to you, especially the youngest and smallest. tyltyl why the smallest? light because they are nearest to their birth. as this approaches, they grow smaller and younger; so that the youngest, who are the first to be born, can hardly walk or stand. tyltyl and the others? are there any big ones? light there are children of all sizes, but i do not know that we shall see the biggest, that is to say, those who will be born hundreds or thousands of years hence.... there will not have been time to tell them; they do not keep close to the doors, like the very little ones, but wander far away waiting for their time to come. tyltyl they must find it very tiresome to be kept waiting like that! light nothing is ever tiresome in infinity. besides they have to learn here all that they will forget on earth. tyltyl it seems hardly worth while then, to take so much trouble! light oh, but it is! something always remains and helps to build up the deep happiness of life. tyltyl well, so much the better for them! as for me, i shall soon know what i am to do. i hope we shall get through to-day, because, you see, i'd like to have things settled.... but where on earth can they be, those girls of mine and destiny? (_looking below him, on the right_.) the poor little dears are up to their knees in the snow. this place is even higher and more difficult to get at than where the ancestors lived. light (_looking down_.) they are not very far away.... but you have taken off your hat again; that's a bad habit of yours. put it on quickly, before they come, and be careful to make no mistake this time, for, if you do, the result may be very unpleasant. (tyltyl _puts on his hat and turns the sapphire. forthwith from the earth and from every side little creatures of different sizes appear, dressed like him and resembling him in nearly every respect. they surround him, rush against him, hustle him and try to drag him, some to the right, others to the left, while he struggles in the midst of them without knowing to which he should give his attention_.) tyltyl (_distraught_.) hullo, hullo, what's all this? what does it mean? that sapphire really is becoming impossible! light don't worry: you'll have turned it the wrong way again. what did you do? tyltyl how can i tell?... this is getting too much for me! too mixed up, really.... i must have pressed it instead of turning it. light that's what i thought. you have simply released some of your other "you's." tyltyl (_dumbfounded_.) some of my other "me's"? light yes, what i mean is that you are not alone inside yourself and that.... tyltyl (_more and more dumbfounded_.) i am not alone inside myself?... light why, no, there are a number of other personalities there, more or less like you and all the time trying to get the upper hand. tyltyl no, but really, what else is there inside me? i must be a sort of menagerie or noah's ark! there's no end to it! light that's true: there would be no end if we had the time to go into it all.... but press the sapphire down now and all will be well. (tyltyl _presses the sapphire and all his_ doubles _disappear_.) tyltyl my word! a good riddance!... well, as you say, they may be the least bit like me, but some of them are very ugly. particularly a big dark one, who kept on tripping me up and very nearly made me fall. light of course, there are some of all kinds, as in every man. one must learn to choose the best and avoid the worst.... but here come your little friends. (_enter first_ the white phantom.) tyltyl (_amazed_.) hullo!... what's the matter with her?... she seems quite in a hurry to-day and moves like an angel. (_enter next_ milette, belline, roselle _and_ rosarelle, _followed by_ aimette _and_ jalline, _who are supporting_ destiny _between them. he is now a head shorter than_ tyltyl, _wears the same tragic costume as before, seems very weary and sinks down on a heap of snow_.) tyltyl (_going to him, with a certain solicitude_.) are you ill? destiny i? not at all: i am always the same, i am unchangeable.... but when you alone are responsible for everything, when you have to manage everything, direct everything and foresee everything and when nobody helps you (_casting an aggressive eye on_ light), you are entitled to a moment's rest.... i therefore order a halt. it is decided irrevocably: to-day we go no farther. light admirable! and so it shall be, for we have arrived; and with destiny's permission, we shall find ourselves, without taking another step, among the children who are awaiting us.... (_the curtain parts and opens upon the next scene_.) scene ix _the abode of the children_ _the immense halls, the lofty vaults, the infinite perspectives of arches and columns of the kingdom of the future in "the blue bird"; but this time, it being the nuptial hour, everything is of a soft, milky white, gleaming and transparent. the radiant shapes of amber-coloured light bathe in unspeakable gladness all the things that they touch; and everywhere are signs of a deep and unfaltering joy. the boundless horizon stretches towards the veiled white of the milky way, the ether quivering with myriads of unknown stars_. (_when the curtain opens_, tyltyl, light, destiny _and_ the six girls _are in the foreground, on the right, at the foot of one of the alabaster columns supporting the entrance-arch. they take a few steps into the immense deserted hall, while_ the white phantom _hides timidly behind the column_.) tyltyl (_a little disappointed_.) there's nobody here!... light i know why it is. there are several doors; as you were all very tired, i chose the one that was nearest. they are probably waiting for us at the principal entrance. tyltyl how shall we let them know? light the atmosphere will do that: here everything is known immediately and every event happens everywhere at the same moment. tyltyl it's a very fine place, this: splendid large rooms and a very high ceiling; lots of light and air.... light and it's still always inside yourself. tyltyl what, this is inside me too? light why, yes; of course it is. tyltyl very well, then; that's all right. please step in: you're very welcome. won't you sit down while you wait? light we shall not have long to wait, for i believe they have seen us. (a child's _head appears for an instant between two columns and is then briskly withdrawn, exclaiming_, "this way! this way! they're here!" _soon after, seven or eight_ children _of about twelve years of age, in short white tunics, with bare arms, legs and feet, run up from the back of the hall and stop in front of the visitors. the largest holds out his hand to_ tyltyl.) the child good-evening, grandpapa! tyltyl grandpapa?... who's that?... where is he?... the child (_bursting into laughter_.) why, it's you! tyltyl (_dumbfounded_.) i? am i a grandpapa already? the child of course you are, eighty times over!... we are the first to arrive. the others are on their way.... (_to the other_ children.) he doesn't seem to believe it! another child you might give us a kiss. tyltyl (_kissing them all_.) i will! i will!... but how do i come to be a grandpapa? the child surely it's quite simple: you will be our grandpapa when we are your grandchildren. tyltyl obviously, that's clear.... so you exist already? the child naturally, since you yourself exist.... i say, are those the grandmammas you're bringing us? tyltyl yes; it seems you're to pick out the best one. another child (_clapping his hands and dancing for joy_.) oh, how pretty they are!... (_throwing himself into_ jalline's _arms_.) i take this one, because she is so soft!... another child (_throwing his arms round_ aimette's _neck_.) and i this one, because she is so sad!... another child (_kissing_ roselle.) i choose this one, because's she's always laughing!... three other children (_each taking one of_ the girls, _kissing and fondling her and laughing and skipping with delight_.) and i choose this one, because she smells so nice!... i choose this one!... i choose this one!... the first child (_intervening_.) one moment, one moment, if you please.... this has nothing to do with us; our turn will come. you know that only the smallest have the right to choose who is to be their mother. all we have to do is to help them with our advice and to stop them if they make mistakes; but that's a thing which has never happened yet. they were quite some distance away, at the principal gate, but they won't be long now. tyltyl here come some bigger ones! (_enter a new group of_ children, _apparently about fifteen years of age. the oldest goes to_ tyltyl _and shakes hands with him_.) the oldest child good-evening, great-grandfather!... tyltyl who's that? i? i'm a great-grandfather now!... the oldest child of course you are!... i am very glad to see you for a minute, for we shall most nicely not have the pleasure of meeting on earth.... well, i understand that your visit to the ancestors was not much of a success. tyltyl let's rather put it that they hadn't quite made up their minds. but how is it that you already know what happened there? the oldest child why, of course we know everything that happens inside you; we're there ourselves. besides, there's very little that separates us from the ancestors: our interests are the same and our paths often meet. the first child look out! here are the little ones!... i see five coming.... there's only one missing, the littlest.... (_from the back of the halls come five_ little children _holding one another's hands_.) tyltyl who are those five little ones? they are very sweet. the first child why, they are your children: two boys and three girls! tyltyl mine? shall i have five children? the first child six, you will have six, for the last little one isn't here yet.... i promise you, the world can do with them, after what people have been up to, down there!... tyltyl but i shall never be able to feed them all!... (the five little ones, _still holding hands, have stopped in front of_ the six girls _and stand looking at them solemnly, without speaking. by degrees, the halls have become filled with a host of other_ children _who gather round_ the five little ones _and watch them. the silence at last becomes irksome and_ tyltyl _breaks it_.) tyltyl well, children, aren't you going to kiss your papa? the youngest child (_ordering him with a serious gesture to be silent_.) mamma first.... where is she? tyltyl why, she must be here; she's one of those. you have only to choose. the youngest child (_to the one beside him_.) do you see her? the other (_shaking his head sadly_.) no. the three others (_in succession_.) no more do i.... no more do i.... no more do i.... jalline (_rushing forward, catching hold of one of the_ children _and kissing him_.) but that's impossible!... here, look at me?... don't you see how much i'll love you?... the child yes, but you're not the one. roselle (_taking another_ child _on her knees_.) and me? won't you have me for your mamma? the child no, no, it's not you. rosarelle (_catching hold of another_ child.) and me? don't you love me? you'll see how happy we shall be!... we shall have a lovely house full of toys and i shall give you everything you want.... the child (_vainly trying to contain its tears_.) no, no!... belline (_taking_ the youngest.) look here, you seem to know more than the others.... don't you recognize me?... are you fond of sweets?... the youngest child (_struggling until she lets him go and crying without disguise_.) let me go! let me go! tyltyl here's a pretty business! he's crying!... and the other one as well!... but what do they want?... they're very hard to please.... (the youngest child _wipes his eyes and takes the hand of the next, who does the same by his neighbour, until they all hold hands again_.) the youngest child come!... (the five little children _move away, with staid dignity, and go out on the left_.) tyltyl what's the matter with them? where are they going? one of the big children they are going to the other door. another they are going to fetch the smallest of them all. another the smaller they are, the more they know. the first child but where is he, the smallest one? haven't you seen him? another no, no one has seen him since this morning.... it's strange, for he is always with his little sisters. tyltyl (_looking at the throng of_ children _filling the halls_.) how many there are! one of the big children it's only one part of the family. a child (_which has been following the progress of_ the five children _with his eyes_.) they are stopping at the third door. tyltyl who? the child the five little ones. another child they seem to be looking for something. the first child let us go and see what they're doing. they know what they know. other children yes, yes, let us all go.... they know, they know! (_a great stir in the crowd of_ children. _they all run in the same direction and go out on the left. in a moment the hall is emptied of all except_ tyltyl, light, the six girls _and_ destiny.) tyltyl let us go after them too! (_he goes out, followed by light and_ the six girls, _with_ destiny _bringing up the rear. the only occupant of the stage is_ the white phantom, _whom everybody has overlooked and who has never left the column on the right against which she has been leaning. the stage remains empty for a moment and then, from the back of the halls, comes a_ child _even smaller than the youngest of the_ five little ones. _he walks with resolute step; on reaching the columns in the foreground, he appears to take his bearings, turns his head to right and left and then, suddenly, goes straight to_ the white phantom, _in front of whom he stops and takes up his stand, contemplating her at length, gravely and silently, with his finger in his mouth. at last he puts out one hand and takes_ the phantom _by the hem of her dress_.) the smallest of them all is it ... really you? the phantom (_speaking for the first time and struggling to find her voice, which seems to come from far away and to stick in her throat_.) yes. the smallest of them all i knew it. come.... the phantom where to? the smallest of them all over here.... i'm going to tell the others.... the phantom not yet.... i can't yet.... the smallest of them all (_still dragging her by her dress towards a marble bench which stands between the columns in the foreground_.) come.... (_he makes her sit down, settles her on the bench, caresses her and kisses her_.) come ... it's you.... i knew it.... i'm kissing you.... don't you know how to kiss yet? (the phantom _shakes her head_.) no?... like this.... i'll teach you.... (_he kisses and caresses her slowly and deliberately_.) you're no longer cold? the phantom (_smiling at last_.) no. the smallest of them all (_still kissing her_.) you see, that's better already. (_under_ the child's _kisses and caresses_, the statue _has gradually taken life: the eyes open, the lips flutter, the face begins to colour, the body loses its terrible stiffness, the arms become supple and circle round the_ the child's _neck_.) the smallest of them all (_nestling against her_.) you're better, aren't you?... not sleepy any more?... how good it is, being together!... they're still looking for you, you know.... and it's i who found you!... i knew, i knew.... the phantom so did i, so did i.... i was waiting.... the smallest of them all it's splendid, isn't it?... (_nestling more closely_.) oh, such fun!... do you like it too? the phantom yes.... yes, i am happy. the smallest of them all why aren't you laughing? the phantom because i am too happy. the smallest of them all so am i, so am i!... don't look: i'm going to cry a little, but it doesn't mean anything.... the phantom (_beginning to return his kisses and caresses_.) i'm going to cry too. the smallest of them all (_intoxicated with rapture_.) you're kissing me!... mummy!... then it's true, then it's true, it is you!... again, again!... no, not any more: i can't bear it!... will they understand, will they be able to understand? the phantom call them, it is time. the smallest of them all don't cover your face: they wouldn't see it and they wouldn't believe me.... (_drawing aside the veils_.) oh, mummy, how lovely you are!... (_her hair spreads all over her shoulders_.) oh, mummy, your hair!... what lots of it!... there, that's much better, i can kiss you better so.... (_listening_.) listen, they're coming back! they're here! (the five little ones _come rushing headlong into the hall_.) the five little ones where is she?... where is she?... where is she?... the smallest of them all (_standing up on the bench, beside his_ mother, _showing her to the others and dancing with delight_.) here! here!... she's here, she's here!... i found her!... (the mother _tries to rise and take them in her arms, but they do not give her time. they fling themselves upon her, load her with kisses and caresses, make her sit down again and clamber on her knees, swarming and scrambling over her and all speaking together_.) the five little ones it's she!... it's she!... it's mummy!... where was she?... did you know her?... i should think so! i should think so!... you too? yes, i too, i too!... you're taking up all the room!... you're kissing her all the time!... it's not fair, it's my turn!... she's my mummy too!... we looked for you so hard!... we waited for you so long!... she is lovely, isn't she?... she's the loveliest of them all!... there's no one like her!... tell us, tell us!... what?... i love you! do you love me?... kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!... what sweet things mummies are!... how delicious it is to kiss!... to think one didn't know!... all for us, all for us!... the only happiness!... you're everything in the world to us, we're everything in the world to you!... i dote on you!... i say, do you know me? i shall be the second.... and i the third.... and i the last!... kiss me first, i shall have the longest to wait!... she's laughing!... she's happy too!... answer us, speak to us!... your arm, i want to feel your arm round my neck!... mine too, mine too!... don't go away, whatever you do!... we don't know where we are, we're mad with delight!... we can't wait any longer!... (_while they are thus kissing and talking, the other_, bigger children, _those of the future generations, gradually return and fill the halls again. the first arrivals stop behind the group formed by_ the mother _and_ the six little ones; _and whispers are heard and rise from the growing crowd_: "they've found her!... they've found her!.... it's she!... how happy they are!... how beautiful she is!... how kind she looks!... can we kiss her?... wait, wait, it's their turn now!... ours will come!..." tyltyl, _followed by_ light, the six girls _and_ destiny, _now enters the hall_. the children _fall back to let him pass_. the smallest of them all _sees him first, goes to him and, taking him by the hand, leads him to_ the mother.) the smallest of them all (_gravely_.) it is she.... i found her.... (the mother _rises and stands in front of_ tyltyl.) another little one do you recognize her? (tyltyl _hesitates, passes his hand over his forehead, vainly searches his memory_.) tyltyl not yet.... she's beautiful! another little one kiss her; it's she. another little one there is no other. the smallest of them all we want no other. tyltyl (_taking_ the mother's _hand_.) where do you come from?... who are you?... where have i seen you before?... i can't remember.... (the mother _does not reply. her colour comes and goes, her eyes open and shut, her life fluctuates with the ebb and flow of the memory which she strives to awaken_.) the smallest of them all take care! you're hurting her! (the other little ones _form a line in front of her as though to defend her_.) a little one go away! another little one go away! you sha'n't have her until you know her! another little one you sha'n't have any other! another little one go away! she shall stay with us till you know! another little one go away! we'll wait for you; we shall all be down there! the first little one go away, go away!... you're hurting her dreadfully! the smallest of them all (_embracing his_ mother.) come, mummy, come!... he doesn't know yet!... (_they all gather and press closely round their_ mother, _hurrying and dragging her along and waving good-bye to_ tyltyl: "see you soon! see you soon again!... down there, down there!... see you soon!" ...the mother _turns and gazes fixedly at_ tyltyl; _then the outlines of the hall darken, lose their colour and distinctness, dissolve and disappear. only_ tyltyl, light, destiny _and_ the six girls _remain in front of the curtain representing the milky way_.) tyltyl well, i'm in a nice mess!... what am i to do?... is it my fault if i can't remember?... light don't be afraid. they know what they are saying. you will find her again.... let us go, quickly!... i am sure that she is waiting for you where you least expect her. tyltyl (_dreamily_.) she really is beautiful!... i believe they are right.... i believe it's really she.... (_they all go out_.) curtain act v scene x _before the curtain representing the edge of a forest_ (_enter_ tyltyl _and_ light.) light here we are at last. tyltyl where? light why, near your home!... don't you recognize your forest? tyltyl my forest, my forest?... (_looking around him_.) why, so it is!... i've seen those beeches before, somewhere. light that's more than likely, as they're close to the house in which you were born. tyltyl well, it's about time i did get home. i am tired out. light it has been a fatiguing journey, but not without results. tyltyl results?... where?... when we started i was in love with six girls; now we've returned, i love only one; and she's just the one who hasn't come back with me.... but where are those six others and what are they doing? and destiny too? he was looking very ill.... light here they are. (_enter_ the six girls. _the last_, jalline, _carries_ destiny, _who still wears his cloak and sombrero, but who has shrunk to the dimensions of quite a small child and appears very tired_.) jalline (_passing_ destiny _to_ milette.) will you take him for a moment? he's not very big, but dreadfully heavy. milette (_taking him from_ jalline's _arms_.) come to me, my little tiny, come; there, don't cry.... destiny (_in a whining baby voice_.) me? i never cwy!... i'm alwayth the thame!... i'm unthakable, immovable, indefatigable, implacable and inegthowable!... milette yes, yes, tiny, we know, you're a very good little boy.... (destiny _falls asleep in her arms_.) he's gone to sleep! jalline (_wrapping him in his cape, with a motherly gesture_.) he's a dear, sweet, obedient little thing, but seems very tired. light poor little destiny!... he has no luck!... but we will see to him later.... what we have to do now, my children, is to bid one another good-bye ... and for the last time.... tyltyl for the last time!... light why, yes; we can't spend our whole life travelling! besides, you are near your homes, since you all of you dwell round the forest. we have learned what we sought and we know what we wanted to know, that man is granted only one love, while the others are merely unfortunate errors that bring sorrow to innumerable lives.... you were all of you about to choose wrongly; and you may rejoice, therefore, even now, when we have to part, that the mistake was discovered before it was too late.... and, more than this, the fairy has charged me with glad tidings for you all: the one love you have each of you sought is waiting for you by your own fire-side, in your own home, or at least will be there very soon.... so do not linger, but hasten to meet it.... the hour grows late; soon the cocks will be crowing; the birds are beginning to wake. let us bid one another good-bye, quickly, without regret, without sad thoughts or tears.... milette (_handing_ destiny _to_ aimette.) just take him for a minute, while i kiss tyltyl.... (_kissing_ tyltyl.) good-bye, tyltyl dear. i must go first. dad gets up early and there would be awful trouble if he didn't find me in the house. good-bye. let me kiss you again.... be nice to me when we meet: we're neighbours and shall have to spend all our lives in this forest. tyltyl (_kissing her affectionately_.) be nice to you, milette? of course i will! it's not your fault or mine: we both know that. milette good-bye, good-bye!... i must fly!... (_she runs out_.) aimette (_handing_ destiny _to_ jalline.) take hold of the little man for a second, will you? (_kissing_ tyltyl.) good-bye, tyltyl.... don't let us forget each other.... i shall perhaps love somebody else; but i shall never love him as i loved you. light come, come, you are wasting time.... we shall never have done if we go on like this.... if the cock crows before you return, your parents will know everything; and then they'll be angry.... just give him a sisterly kiss: that's all that's necessary.... you're not going far; and you'll meet again many a time, in real life, and will like each other the better because of your truer knowledge.... (rosarelle _and_ belline _kiss_ tyltyl _without speaking and go out_. roselle _blows her nose vigorously, dabs at her eyes and stammers_, "my dear tyltyl! my dear tyltyl!... he was so nice!... i shall see you again, sha'n't i, i shall see you again?... you shall have the best of everything at the inn!" _then she rushes out_. jalline _alone lingers behind, holding_ destiny _in her arms_.) light well, jalline, what are you doing here? jalline i can't go away at once, just like the others!... light but you must, dear jalline. not because it is fate, as men say, but because it is the will of those who know everything and who never die.... good-bye, my little jalline. you have been very sweet, very loving, very exquisite; and i thought that you would be chosen.... don't cry, dear. hand over poor little destiny to me, i will take care of him; and give tyltyl a long, long kiss.... jalline (_hands_ destiny _to_ light _and gives_ tyltyl _a long kiss_.) good-bye, tyltyl. tyltyl good-bye, jalline! (jalline _moves away with slow reluctant steps_.) light and, now that we are alone, let me kiss you too.... we shall meet once again to take another and a longer journey.... tyltyl another journey? and a longer one? light the last, the happiest and the most beautiful. but i am not allowed to speak of it yet.... good-bye, tyltyl. remember, dear, that you are not alone in this world and that all that you see in it has neither beginning nor end. with this thought in your heart, letting it grow with your growth, you will always know, whatever may happen, the right thing to say, the right thing to hope for.... and you, tiny, don't cry like that! some day we shall begin to understand each other. destiny (_half-asleep, tearfully, lisping_.) me? i never cwy!... i order a thtop!... forward! forward! forward! (light _goes out on the left, carrying_ destiny _in her arms_. tyltyl _follows her a little way, waving his hand in farewell; and the curtain opens on the last scene_.) scene xi _the awakening_ _the same scene as in act i_. tyltyl _is sound asleep. the light trickles gaily through all the crannies of the closed shutters. the blue bird is singing madly in his cage_. (_a knock at the door_.) tyltyl (_waking with a start_.) who's there? mummy tyl (_behind the door_.) it's me!... open the door quickly!... we're expecting a visitor.... tyltyl wait, wait, till i slip on my breeches.... (_rising and seeing with amazement that he is dressed_.) hullo, i've gone to bed with my clothes on! how did i come to do that?... (_he opens the door. enter_ mummy tyl _fussily, carrying a bundle of sticks_.) mummy tyl quick, quick!... help me light the fire and tidy the room.... go and wake up mytyl.... they'll be here in a minute. tyltyl (_doing his best to help her_.) who's "they"? mummy tyl of course, you don't know. daddy tyl met them yesterday, but you had gone to bed.... do open the shutters, i can't see what i'm doing.... (tyltyl _opens the shutters and the daylight floods the room_.) and call mytyl, so that she can help me to get things straight.... what a mess!... and the dust! i can't let them see my house like this. (_enter_ mytyl.) tyltyl hullo, there mytyl is!... but you haven't told me.... mummy tyl (_to_ mytyl.) the fire's beginning to burn up.... you make the coffee, while i start cleaning.... what's this? more cabbage leaves under the tap! mytyl it's not my fault. tyltyl promised me.... mummy tyl well, i never! a nice thing!... it's a blessing that i came to look for myself!... take the broom, tyltyl, while i give a rub to the plates and put them away. tyltyl but look here: who's coming? is it the shah of persia or the emperor of china? mummy tyl much better than that. you'll never guess.... do you remember our neighbour? mytyl what neighbour? mummy tyl there aren't so many of 'em.... the one with the pretty little pink house, by the road-side, and a garden full of sunflowers and hollyhocks. tyltyl of course!... and they had a little girl to whom i gave my dove? mummy tyl that's right. tyltyl they've been gone a long time. mummy tyl five or six years, that's all. they went to the town to live with the girl's uncle. he was a widower, with no children of his own, and has died and left them all his money. they told daddy tyl they're coming back here for good, going into their nice little house again. it belonged to little joy's uncle. tyltyl little joy? mummy tyl yes, yes, you know: that's the little girl's name. they used to call her jojo when she was small; but her name is joy. daddy tyl met her last night, says that he could hardly believe his eyes, that she's taller than you and beautiful ... well, there! with hair like gold, real gold! that's worth thinking about.... so i want the house tidy and all of us to look decent and respectable.... you can never tell what may happen. we're of good stock too. your grandfather's father was a pork-butcher. tyltyl it's curious, i didn't meet him. mummy tyl whom? tyltyl my grandfather's father. mummy tyl that's not to be wondered at: he's been dead these fifty-seven years. tyltyl (_sweeping the floor lustily_.) perhaps i had better put on my sunday clothes? mummy tyl no, you needn't; you're all right as you are. we'll just lay the white tablecloth.... besides, there's no time now; here they come; i can hear them walking up the path. (_a knock at the door_. mummy tyl _opens it. enter_ the neighbour _and_ joy, _followed by_ daddy tyl, _with his axe on his shoulder_.) daddy tyl (_calling out from the threshold_.) here they are! here they are! the neighbour yes, it's joy and i, madame tyl.... good-morning, a merry christmas and good luck to everybody, as my poor husband used to say when he was alive. i'm glad to see you looking so well.... and these are the children? don't tell me that this great, big, pretty girl is mytyl? and can that be tyltyl, that strapping young fellow who looks so smart? mummy tyl yes, yes, madame berlingot, they're the sort that keep on shooting up till you don't know where you are. tyltyl hasn't grown as much as his sister; but he's stronger. there's not a sturdier lad in all the country-side.... but it's your young lady who's beautiful!... she looks the very picture of the blessed saints!... (_observing_ tyltyl, _who stands wide-eyed and entranced_.) now then, tyltyl, where are your manners? don't you, know your little playmate? be civil, say how-do-you-do, shake hands and give her a chair. daddy tyl before you sit down, would you like to see the cows? the neighbour what, do you keep cows now? daddy tyl why, yes; we've not done so badly either.... two little cows and a calf.... little cows are better than big ones; and they only eat half as much.... one of them, the red one, gives us twenty quarts of milk every day. the neighbour then you've put up a cow-house? you hadn't one before. daddy tyl yes, i ran it up myself, with tyltyl to help.... (_leading her towards the door on the left_.) it's this way: we made a good job of it and it's quite worth seeing. the neighbour dear me, yes; i'd like to see it at once. (_they all go out, except_ tyltyl _and_ joy, _who remain standing face to face. as soon as they are gone_, tyltyl _goes up to_ joy _and takes her hand_.) tyltyl is it ... really you? joy yes, it's i. tyltyl i knew you at once. joy and i you. tyltyl you are even more beautiful than up there. joy you too. tyltyl i say, it's funny that i couldn't remember.... joy i hadn't forgotten. tyltyl oh, how lovely you are!... let me kiss you. joy you may if you like. (_they kiss each other awkwardly, but affectionately_.) tyltyl they haven't a suspicion. joy you think that? tyltyl i'm sure of it. they don't know what we know. but the little ones knew. joy what little ones? tyltyl the little ones up there.... they were very clever. they knew you at once.... were you so very unhappy? joy why? tyltyl because i couldn't remember. joy it wasn't your fault. tyltyl i know, but i hated it.... and you were so pale, so dreadfully pale; and you never spoke.... how long had you loved me? joy ever since i first saw you, when you gave me the blue bird. tyltyl so have i, so have i, but i had forgotten.... never mind: we're going to be tremendously happy, for they've settled it, you see; they want it. joy do you think they've done it on purpose? tyltyl i'm quite sure; there isn't a doubt.... everybody wanted it, but especially the little ones, all six of them. joy oh! tyltyl yes!... we're going to have six!... i say, do you believe it? joy six what? tyltyl why, six children, of course! joy oh, tyltyl! tyltyl i know it's a great many; but we'll manage somehow. there's nothing to be afraid of.... what a dream, eh? joy yes. tyltyl the loveliest i ever had; and you? joy yes. tyltyl i saw you as you are now, just like that. but here, all the same, you are more real and more beautiful.... oh, i must kiss you again! (_they kiss each other lingeringly. at that moment_ daddy tyl _opens the door, with the others behind him_.) daddy tyl (_catching them in the act_.) well, i never!... you're getting on, you two!... you're losing no time! the neighbour (_entering with_ mummy tyl _and_ mytyl.) what's the matter? daddy tyl what did i say, when we were looking at the rabbits? these two are made for each other.... they were kissing away like anything! the neighbour joy! aren't you ashamed? joy but, mummy.... daddy tyl come, come, there's no great harm in it. we did as much, mummy tyl and i, when we were young, didn't we, old lady? mummy tyl we did indeed!... they make such a pretty pair!... the neighbour that they do; but joy is still very young and i'd like to think it over. daddy tyl that's right enough.... he's very young too; but you won't find a better boy in the whole country-side.... he's a strong, healthy lad, with a civil tongue in his head, and he works like a nigger.... think it over by all means, only, as this is a holiday, there's no harm in their kissing each other; and let's see them do it: it's good for one!... (_seeing that_ tyltyl _and_ joy _do not move, he pushes them close together_.) well?... look at them: they don't want to now! tyltyl (_in a whisper, to_ joy, _as he kisses her_.) it was better when we were by ourselves, wasn't it? joy (_also whispering_.) yes, it was! tyltyl they were right, weren't they? joy who? tyltyl the others. joy yes. tyltyl don't say a word to any one: it is our secret, yours and mine.... curtain the blue bird _a fairy play in six acts_ by maurice maeterlinck _translated by_ alexander teixeira de mattos characters tyltyl mytyl light the fairy bérylune neighbour berlingot daddy tyl mummy tyl gaffer tyl (dead) granny tyl (dead) tyltyl's brothers and sisters (dead) time night neighbour berlingot's little daughter tylô, the dog tylette, the cat bread sugar fire water milk the wolf the pig the ox the cow the bull the sheep the cock the rabbit the horse the ass the oak the elm the beech the lime-tree the fir-tree the cypress the birch the chestnut-tree the ivy the poplar the willow stars, sicknesses, shades, luxuries, happinesses, joys, etc. translator's note a new act appears for the first time in this edition and is inserted as act iv--_palace of happiness_. it has been specially written for the christmas revival of _the blue bird_ at the haymarket theatre, where it will take the place of the forest scene (act iii., scene 2). in the printed version, however, the forest scene is retained; and in this and all later editions the play will consist of six acts instead of five. alexander teixeira de mattos. chelsea, 14 _november_, 1910. costumes tyltyl wears the dress of hop o' my thumb in perrault's tales. scarlet knickerbockers, pale-blue jacket, white stockings, tan shoes. mytyl is dressed like gretel or little red riding-hood. light.--the "moon-coloured" dress in perrault's _peau d'âne;_ that is to say, pale gold shot with silver, shimmering gauzes, forming a sort of rays, etc. neo-grecian or anglo-grecian (_à la_ walter crane) or even more or less empire style: a high waist, bare arms, etc. head-dress: a sort of diadem or even a light crown. the fairy bérylune and neighbour berlingot.--the traditional dress of the poor women in fairy-tales. if desired, the transformation of the fairy into a princess in act i may be omitted. daddy tyl, mummy tyl, gaffer tyl and granny tyl.--the traditional costume of the german wood-cutters and peasants in grimm's tales. tyltyl's brothers and sisters.--different forms of the hop-o'-my-thumb costume. time.--traditional dress of time: a wide black or dark-blue cloak, a streaming white beard, scythe and hour-glass. night.--ample black garments, covered with mysterious stars and "shot" with reddish-brown reflections. veils, dark poppies, etc. the neighbour's little girl.--bright fair hair; a long white frock. the dog,--red dress-coat, white breeches, top-boots, a shiny hat. the costume suggests that of john bull. the cat.--the costume of puss in boots: powdered wig, three-cornered hat, violet or sky-blue coat, dress-sword, etc. n.b.--the heads of the dog and the cat should be only discreetly animalised. the luxuries.--before the transformation: wide, heavy mantles in red and yellow brocade; enormous fat jewels, etc. after the transformation: chocolate or coffee-coloured tights, giving the impression of unadorned dancing-jacks. the happinesses of the home.--dresses of various colours, or, if preferred, costumes of peasants, shepherds, wood-cutters and so on, but idealised and interpreted fairy-fashion. the great joys.--as stated in the text, shimmering dresses in soft and subtle shades: rose-awakening, water's-smile, amber-dew, blue-of-dawn, etc. maternal love.--dress very similar to the dress worn by light, that is to say, supple and almost transparent veils, as of a greek statue, and, in so far as possible, white. pearls and other stones as rich and numerous as may be desired, provided that they do not break the pure and candid harmony of the whole. bread.--a rich pasha's dress. an ample crimson silk or velvet gown. a huge turban. a scimitar. an enormous stomach, red and puffed-out cheeks. sugar.--a silk gown, cut like that of a eunuch in a seraglio, half blue and half white, to suggest the paper wrapper of a sugar-loaf. eunuch's headdress. fire.--red tights, a vermilion cloak, with changing reflections, lined with gold. an aigrette of iridescent flames. water.--a pale-blue or bluish-green dress, with transparent reflections and effects of rippling or trickling gauze, neo-grecian or anglo-grecian style. but fuller and more voluminous than that of light. head-dress of aquatic flowers and seaweed. the animals.--popular or peasant costumes. the trees.--dresses of different shades of green or the colour of the trunks of trees. distinctive attributes in the shape of leaves or branches by which they can be recognised. scenes act i.--the wood-cutter's cottage. act ii., scene 1--at the fairy's. scene 2--the land of memory. act iii., scene 1--the palace of night. scene 2--the forest. act iv., scene 1--before the curtain. scene 2--the palace of happiness. act v., scene 1--before the curtain. scene 2--the graveyard. scene 3--the kingdom of the future. act vi., scene 1--the leave-taking. scene 2--the awakening. the blue bird act i. _the wood-cutter's cottage_ _the stage represents the interior of a wood-cutter's cottage, simple and rustic in appearance, but in no way poverty-stricken. a recessed fireplace containing the dying embers of a wood-fire. kitchen utensils, a cupboard, a bread-pan, a grandfather's clock, a spinning-wheel, a water-tap, etc. on a table, a lighted lamp. at the foot of the cupboard, on either side, a_ dog _and a_ cat _lie sleeping, rolled up, each with his nose in his tail. between them stands a large blue-and-white sugar-loaf. on the wall hangs a round cage containing a turtle-dove. at the back, two windows, with closed inside shutters. under one of the windows, a stool. on the left is the front door, with a big latch to it. on the right, another door. a ladder leads up to a loft. on the right also are two little children's cots, at the head of which are two chains, with clothes carefully folded on them. when the curtain rises_, tyltyl _and_ mytyl _are sound asleep in their cots_, mummy tyl _tucks them in, leans over them, watches them for a moment as they sleep and beckons to_ daddy tyl, _who thrusts his head through the half-open door_. mummy tyl _lays a finger on her lips, to impose silence upon him, and then goes out to the right, on tiptoe, after first putting out the lamp. the scene remains in darkness for a moment. then a light, gradually increasing in intensity, filters in through the shutters. the lamp on the table lights again of itself, but its light is of a different colour than when_ mummy tyl _extinguished it. the two_ children _appear to wake and sit up in bed_. tyltyl mytyl? mytyl tyltyl? tyltyl are you asleep? mytyl are you?... tyltyl no; how can i be asleep when i'm talking to you? mytyl say, is this christmas day?... tyltyl not yet; not till to-morrow. but father christmas won't bring us anything this year.... mytyl why not? tyltyl i heard mummy say that she couldn't go to town to tell him ... but he will come next year.... mytyl is next year far off?... tyltyl a good long while.... but he will come to the rich children to-night.... mytyl really?... tyltyl hullo!... mummy's forgotten to put out the lamp!... i've an idea!... mytyl what?... tyltyl let's get up.... mytyl but we mustn't.... tyltyl why, there's no one about.... do you see the shutters?... mytyl oh, how bright they are!... tyltyl it's the lights of the party. mytyl what party?... tyltyl the rich children opposite. it's the christmas-tree. let's open the shutters.... mytyl can we?... tyltyl of course; there's no one to stop us.... do you hear the music?... let us get up.... (_the two_ children _get up, run to one of the windows, climb on to the stool and throw back the shutters. a bright light fills the room. the_ children _look out greedily_.) tyltyl we can see everything!... mytyl (_who can hardly find room on the stool_) i can't.... tyltyl it's snowing!... there's two carriages, with six horses each!... mytyl there are twelve little boys getting out!... tyltyl how silly you are!... they're little girls.... mytyl they've got knickerbockers.... tyltyl what do you know?... don't push so!... mytyl i never touched you. tyltyl (_who is taking up the whole stool_) you're taking up all the room... mytyl why, i have no room at all!... tyltyl do be quiet! i see the tree!... mytyl what tree?... tyltyl why, the christmas-tree!... you're looking at the wall!... mytyl i'm looking at the wall because i've got no room.... tyltyl (_giving her a miserly little place on the stool_) there!... will that do?... now you're better off than i!... i say, what lots and lots of lights!... mytyl what are those people doing who are making such a noise?... tyltyl they're the musicians. mytyl are they angry?... tyltyl no; but it's hard work. mytyl another carriage with white horses!... tyltyl be quiet!... and look!... mytyl what are those gold things there, hanging from the branches? tyltyl why, toys, to be sure!... swords, guns, soldiers, cannons.... mytyl and dolls; say, are there any dolls?... tyltyl dolls?... that's too silly; there's no fun in dolls.... mytyl and what's that all round the table?.... tyltyl cakes and fruit and tarts.... mytyl i had some once when i was little.... tyltyl so did i; it's nicer than bread, but they don't give you enough.... mytyl they've got plenty over there.... the whole table's full.... are they going to eat them?... tyltyl of course; what else would they do with them?... mytyl why don't they eat them at once?... tyltyl because they're not hungry.... mytyl (_stupefied with astonishment_) not hungry?... why not?... tyltyl well, they eat whenever they want to.... mytyl (_incredulously_) every day?... tyltyl they say so.... mytyl will they eat them all?... will they give any away?... tyltyl to whom?... mytyl to us.... tyltyl they don't know us.... mytyl suppose we asked them.... tyltyl we mustn't. mytyl why not?... tyltyl because it's not right. mytyl (_clapping her hands_) oh, how pretty they are!... tyltyl (_rapturously_) and how they're laughing and laughing!... mytyl and the little ones dancing!... tyltyl yes, yes; let's dance too!... (_they stamp their feet for joy on the stool_.) mytyl oh, what fun!... tyltyl they're getting the cakes!... they can touch them!... they're eating, they're eating, they're eating!... mytyl the tiny ones, too!... they've got two, three, four apiece!... tyltyl (_drunk with delight_) oh, how lovely!... oh, how lovely, how lovely!... mytyl (_counting imaginary cakes_) i've got twelve!... tyltyl and i four times twelve!... but i'll give you some.... (_a knock at the door of the cottage_.) tyltyl (_suddenly quieted and frightened_) what's that?... mytyl (_scared_) it's daddy!... (_as they hesitate before opening the door, the big latch is seen to rise of itself, with a grating noise; the door half opens to admit a little old woman dressed in green with a red hood on her head. she is humpbacked and lame and near-sighted; her nose and chin meet; and she walks bent on a stick. she is obviously a fairy_.) the fairy have you the grass here that sings or the bird that is blue?... tyltyl we have some grass, but it can't sing.... mytyl tyltyl has a bird. tyltyl but i can't give it away.... the fairy why not?... tyltyl because it's mine. the fairy that's a reason, no doubt. where is the bird?... tyltyl (_pointing to the cage_) in the cage.... the fairy (_putting on her glasses to examine the bird_) i don't want it; it's not blue enough. you will have to go and find me the one i want. tyltyl but i don't know where it is.... the fairy no more do i. that's why you must look for it. i can do without the grass that sings, at a pinch; but i must absolutely have the blue bird. it's for my little girl, who is very ill. tyltyl what's the matter with her?... the fairy we don't quite know; she wants to be happy.... tyltyl really?... the fairy do you know who i am?... tyltyl you're rather like our neighbour, madame berlingot.... the fairy (_growing suddenly angry_) not a bit!... there's not the least likeness!... this is intolerable!... i am the fairy bérylune.... tyltyl oh! very well.... the fairy you will have to start at once. tyltyl are you coming with us? the fairy i can't, because i put on the soup this morning and it always boils over if i leave it for more than an hour.... (_pointing successively to the ceiling, the chimney and the window_) will you go out this way, or that way, or that way?... tyltyl (_pointing timidly to the door_) i would rather go out that way.... the fairy (_growing suddenly angry again_) that's quite impossible; and it's a shocking habit!... (_pointing to the window_) we'll go out this way.... well?... what are you waiting for?... get dressed at once.... (_the_ children _do as they are told and dress quickly_.) i'll help mytyl.... tyltyl we have no shoes.... the fairy that doesn't matter. i will give you a little magic hat. where are your father and mother?.... tyltyl (_pointing to the door on the right_) they're asleep in there.... the fairy and your grandpapa and grandmamma?... tyltyl they're dead.... the fairy and your little brothers and sisters.... have you any?... tyltyl oh, yes; three little brothers.... mytyl and four little sisters.... the fairy where are they?... tyltyl they are dead, too.... the fairy would you like to see them again?... tyltyl oh, yes!... at once!... show them to us!... the fairy i haven't got them in my pocket.... but this is very lucky; you will see them when you go through the land of memory.... it's on the way to the blue bird, just on the left, past the third turning.... what were you doing when i knocked?... tyltyl we were playing at eating cakes?... the fairy have you any cakes?... where are they?... tyltyl in the house of the rich children.... come and look, it's so lovely. (_he drags the_ fairy _to the window_.) the fairy (_at the window_) but it's the others who are eating them!... tyltyl yes; but we can see them eat.... the fairy aren't you cross with them?... tyltyl what for?... the fairy for eating all the cakes.... i think it's very wrong of them not to give you some.... tyltyl not at all; they're rich.... i say, isn't it beautiful over there?... the fairy it's no more beautiful there than here. tyltyl ugh!... it's darker here and smaller and there are no cakes.... the fairy it's exactly the same, only you can't see.... tyltyl yes, i can; and i have very good eyes. i can see the time on the church clock and daddy can't... the fairy (_suddenly angry_) i tell you that you can't see!... how do you see me?... what do i look like?... (_an awkward silence from_ tyltyl.) well, answer me, will you? i want to know if you can see!... am i pretty or ugly?... (_the silence grows more and more uncomfortable_.) won't you answer?... am i young or old?... are my cheeks pink or yellow?... perhaps you'll say i have a hump?... tyltyl (_in a conciliatory tone_) no, no; it's not a big one.... the fairy oh, yes, to look at you, any one would think it enormous.... have i a hook nose and have i lost one of my eyes?... tyltyl oh, no, i don't say that.... who put it out?... the fairy (_growing more and more irritated_). but it's not out!... you wretched, impudent boy!... it's much finer than the other; it's bigger and brighter and blue as the sky.... and my hair, do you see that?... it's fair as the corn in the fields, it's like virgin gold!... and i've such heaps and heaps of it that it weighs my head down.... it escapes on every side.... do you see it on my hands? (_she holds out two lean wisps of grey hair_.) tyltyl yes, i see a little.... the fairy (_indignantly_) a little!... sheaves! armfuls! clusters! waves of gold!... i know there are people who say that they don't see any; but you're not one of those wicked, blind people, i should hope?... tyltyl oh, no; i can see all that isn't hidden.... the fairy but you ought to see the rest with as little doubt!... human beings are very odd!... since the death of the fairies, they see nothing at all and they never suspect it.... luckily, i always carry with me all that is wanted to give new light to dimmed eyes.... what am i taking out of my bag?... tyltyl oh, what a dear little green hat!... what's that shining in the cockade?... the fairy that's the big diamond that makes people see.... tyltyl really?... the fairy yes; when you've got the hat on your head, you turn the diamond a little; from right to left, for instance, like this; do you see?... then it presses a bump which nobody knows of and which opens your eyes.... tyltyl doesn't it hurt?... the fairy on the contrary, it's enchanted.... you at once see even the inside of things: the soul of bread, of wine, of pepper, for instance.... mytyl can you see the soul of sugar, too?... the fairy (_suddenly cross_) of course you can!... i hate unnecessary questions.... the soul of sugar is no more interesting than the soul of pepper.... there, i give you all i have to help you in your search for the blue bird. i know that the flying carpet or the ring which makes its wearer invisible would be more useful to you.... but i have lost the key of the cupboard in which i locked them.... oh, i was almost forgetting!... (_pointing to the diamond_) when you hold it like this, do you see?... one little turn more and you behold the past.... another little turn and you behold the future.... it's curious and practical and it's quite noiseless.... tyltyl daddy will take it from me.... the fairy he won't see it; no one can see it as long as it's on your head.... will you try it?... (_she puts the little green hat on_ tyltyl's _head_.) now, turn the diamond.... one turn and then.... (tyltyl _has no sooner turned the diamond than a sudden and wonderful change comes over everything. the old_ fairy _alters then and there into a princess of marvellous beauty; the flints of which the cottage walls are built light up, turn blue as sapphires, become transparent and gleam and sparkle like the most precious stones. the humble furniture takes life and becomes resplendent; the deal table assumes as grave and noble an air as a table made of marble; the face of the clock winks its eye and smiles genially, while the door that contains the pendulum opens and releases the hours, which, holding one another by the hand and laughing merrily, begin to dance to the sound of delicious music_.) tyltyl (_displaying a legitimate bewilderment and pointing to the hours_) who are all those pretty ladies?... the fairy don't be afraid; they are the hours of your life and they are glad to be free and visible for a moment.... tyltyl and why are the walls so bright?... are they made of sugar or of precious stones?... the fairy all stones are alike, all stones are precious; but man sees only a few of them.... (_while they are speaking, the scene of enchantment continues and is completed. the souls of the quartern-loaves, in the form of little men in crust-coloured tights, flurried and all powdered with flour, scramble out of the bread-pan and frisk round the table, where they are caught up by_ fire, _who, springing from the hearth in yellow and vermilion tights, writhes with laughter as he chases the loaves_.) tyltyl who are those ugly little men?... the fairy oh, they're nothing; they are merely the souls of the quartern-loaves, who are taking advantage of the reign of truth to leave the pan in which they were too tightly packed.... tyltyl and the big red fellow, with the nasty smell?... the fairy hush!... don't speak too loud; that's fire.... he's dangerous. (_this dialogue does not interrupt the enchantment. the_ dog _and the_ cat, _lying rolled up at the foot of the cupboard, utter a loud and simultaneous cry and disappear down a trap; and in their places rise two persons, one of whom has the face of a bull-dog, the other that of a tom-cat. forthwith, the little man with the bull-dog face, whom we will henceforward call the_ dog, _rushes upon_ tyltyl, _kisses him violently and overwhelms him with noisy and impetuous caresses; while the little man with the face of a tom-cat, whom we will simply call the_ cat, _combs his hair, washes his hands and strokes his whiskers before going up to_ mytyl.) the dog (_yelling, jumping about, knocking up against everything, unbearable_) my little god!... good-morning, good-morning, my dear little god!... at last, at last we can talk!... i had so much to tell you!... bark and wag my tail as i might, you never understood!... but now!... good-morning, good-morning!... i love you!... shall i do some of my tricks?... shall i beg?... would you like to see me walk on my front paws or dance on my hind-legs?... tyltyl (_to the_ fairy) who is this gentleman with the dog's head?.... the fairy don't you see? it's the soul of tylô whom you have set free.... the cat (_going up to_ mytyl _and putting out his hand to her, with much ceremony and circumspection_) good-morning, miss.... how well you look this morning!... mytyl good-morning, sir.... (_to the_ fairy) who is it?... the fairy why, don't you see? its the soul of tylette offering you his hand.... kiss him.... the dog (_hustling the_ cat) me, too!... i've kissed the little god!... i've kissed the little girl!... i've kissed everybody!... oh, grand!... what fun we shall have!... i'm going to frighten tylette i bow, wow, wow!... the cat sir, i don't know you.... the fairy (_threatening the_ dog _with her stick_) keep still, will you, or else you'll go back into silence until the end of time.... (_meanwhile, the enchantment has pursued its course: the spinning-wheel has begun to turn madly in its corner and to spin brilliant rays of light; the tap, in another corner, begins to sing in a very high voice and, turning into a luminous fountain, floods the sink with sheets of pearls and emeralds, through which darts the soul of_ water, _like a young girl, streaming, dishevelled and tearful, who immediately begins to fight with_ fire.) tyltyl and who is that wet lady?... the fairy don't be afraid. it's water just come from the tap.... (_the milk-jug upsets, falls from the table and smashes on the floor; and from the spilt milk there rises a tall, white, bashful figure who seems to be afraid of everything_.) tyltyl and the frightened lady in her nightgown?... the fairy that's milk; she has broken her jug.... (_the sugar-loaf, at the foot of the cupboard, grows taller and wider and splits its paper wrapper, whence issues a mawkish and hypocritical being, dressed in a long coat half blue and half white, who goes up to_ mytyl _with a sanctimonious smile_.) mytyl (_greatly alarmed_) what does he want?... the fairy why, he is the soul of sugar!... mytyl (_reassured_) has he any barley-sugar?... the fairy his pockets are full of it and each of his fingers is a sugar-stick.... (_the lamp falls from the table and, at the same moment, its flame springs up again and turns into a luminous maid of incomparable beauty. she is dressed in long transparent and dazzling veils and stands motionless in a sort of ecstasy_.) tyltyl it's the queen!... mytyl it's the blessed virgin!... the fairy no, my children; it's light.... (_meanwhile, the saucepans on the shelves spin round like tops; the linen-press throws open its folding-doors and unrolls a magnificent display of moon-coloured and sun-coloured stuffs, with which mingles a no less splendid array of rags and tatters that come down the ladder from the loft. but, suddenly, three loud knocks are heard on the door at the right_.) tyltyl (_alarmed_) that's daddy!... he's heard us!... the fairy turn the diamond!... from left to right!... (tyltyl _turns the diamond quickly_.) not so quick!... heavens! it's too late!... you turned it too briskly; they will not have time to resume their places and we shall have a lot of annoyance.... (_the fairy becomes an old woman again, the walls of the cottage lose their splendour. the hours go back into the clock, the spinning-wheel stops, etc. but, in the general hurry and confusion, while_ fire _runs madly round the room, looking for the chimney, one of the loaves of bread, who has been unable to squeeze into the pan, bursts into sobs and utters roars of fright_.) the fairy what's the matter?... bread (_in tears_) there's no room in the pan!... the fairy (_stooping over the pan_) yes, there is; yes, there is.... (_pushing the other loaves, which have resumed their original places_.) come, quick, make room there.... (_the knocking at the door is renewed_.) bread (_utterly scared, vainly struggling to enter the pan_) i can't get in!... he'll eat me first!... the dog (_frisking round_ tyltyl) my little god!... i am still here!... i can still talk!... i can still kiss you!... once more! once more! once more!... the fairy what, you too?... are you there still?... the dog what luck!... i was too late to return to silence; the trap closed too quickly.... the cat so did mine.... what is going to happen?... is there any danger?... the fairy well, i'm bound to tell you the truth: all those who accompany the two children will die at the end of the journey.... the cat (_to the_ dog) come, let us get back into the trap.... the dog no, no!... i won't!... i want to go with the little god!... i want to talk to him all the time!... the cat idiot!... (_more knocking at the door_) bread (_shedding bitter tears_) i don't want to die at the end of the journey!... i want to get back at once into my pan!... fire (_who has done nothing but run madly round the room, hissing with anguish_) i can't find my chimney!... water (_vainly trying to get into the tap_) i can't get into the tap!... sugar (_hovering round his paper wrapper_) i've burst my packing-paper!... milk (_lymphatically and bashfully_) somebody's broken my little jug!... the fairy goodness me, what fools they are!... fools and cowards too!... so you would rather go on living in your ugly boxes, in your traps and taps, than accompany the children in search of the bird?... all (_excepting the_ dog _and_ light) yes, yes! now, at once!... my tap!... my pan!... my chimney!... my trap!... the fairy (_to_ light, _who is dreamily gazing at the wreckage of her lamp_) and you, light, what do you say? light i will go with the children.... the dog (_yelling with delight_) i too!... i too!... the fairy that's right.... besides, it's too late to go back; you have no choice now, you must all start with us.... but you, fire, don't come near anybody; you, dog, don't tease the cat; and you, water, hold yourself up and try not to run all over the place.... (_a violent knocking is again heard at the door on the right_.) tyltyl (_listening_) there's daddy again!... he's getting up this time; i can hear him walking.... the fairy let us go out by the window.... you shall all come to my house, where i will dress the animals and the things properly.... (_to_ bread) you, bread, take the cage in which to put the blue bird.... it will be in your charge.... quick, quick, let us waste no time.... (_the window suddenly lengthens downwards, like a door. they all go out; after which the window resumes its primitive shape and closes quite innocently. the room has become dark again and the two cots are steeped in shadow. the door on the right opens ajar and in the aperture appear the heads of_ daddy _and_ mummy tyl.) daddy tyl it was nothing.... it's the cricket chirping.... mummy tyl can you see them?... daddy tyl i can.... they are sleeping quite quietly.... mummy tyl i can hear their breathing.... (_the door closes again_) curtain act ii. scene i.--_at the_ fairy's. _a magnificent entrance-hall in the palace of the_ fairy bérylune. _columns of gleaming marble with gold and silver capitals, staircases, porticoes, balustrades, etc_. _enter from the back, on the right, sumptuously clad, the_ cat, sugar _and_ fire. _they come from a room which emits rays of light; it is the_ fairy's _wardrobe. the_ cat _has donned the classic costume of puss-in-boots_; sugar, _a silk dress, half white and half pale-blue; and_ fire _wears a number of many-coloured aigrettes and a long vermilion mantle lined with gold. they cross the whole length of the hall to the front of the stage, where the_ cat _draws them up under a portico on the right_. the cat this way, i know every inch of this palace. it was left to the fairy bérylune by bluebeard.... let us make the most of our last minute of liberty, while the children and light pay their visit to the fairy's little daughter.... i have brought you here in order to discuss the position in which we are placed.... are we all here?... sugar i see the dog coming out of the fairy's wardrobe.... fire what on earth has he got on?... the cat he has put on the livery of one of the footmen of cinderella's coach.... it was just the thing for him.... he has the soul of a flunkey.... but let us hide behind the balustrade.... it's strange how i mistrust him.... he had better not hear what i have to say to you.... sugar it is too late.... he has discovered us.... look, here is water also coming out of the wardrobe.... goodness me, how fine she is!... (_the_ dog _and_ water _join the first group_.) the dog (_frisking about_) there! there!... aren't we fine i.... just look at these laces and this embroidery!... it's real gold and no mistake!... the cat (_to_ water) is that catskin's "colour-of-time" dress?... i seem to recognise it.... water yes, it's the one that suited me best.... fire (_between his teeth_) she's not brought her umbrella.... water what's that?... fire nothing, nothing.... water i thought you might be speaking of a great red i saw the other day.... the cat come, don't let as quarrel; we have more important things to do.... we are only waiting for bread; where is he? the dog he was making an endless fuss about choosing his dress.... fire worth while, isn't it, for a fellow who looks a fool and carries an enormous stomach?... the dog at last, he decided in favour of a turkish robe, adorned with gems, a scimitar and a turban.... the cat there he is!... he has put on bluebeard's finest dress... _enter_ bread, _in the costume described above. the silk robe is crossed tightly over his huge stomach. in one hand he holds the hilt of a scimitar passed through his sash and in the other the cage intended for the blue bird_. bread (_waddling conceitedly_) well?... what do you think of this? the dog (_frisking round the_ loaf) how nice he looks! what a fool he looks! how nice he looks! how nice he looks!... the cat (_to the_ loaf) are the children dressed?... bread yes, master tyltyl has put on hop-o'-my-thumb's blue jacket and red breeches; and miss mytyl has gretel's frock and cinderella's slippers.... but the great thing was the dressing of light!... the cat why?... bread the fairy thought her so lovely that she did not want to dress her at all!... thereupon i protested in the name of our dignity as essential and eminently respectable elements; and i ended by declaring that, under those conditions, i should refuse to be seen with her.... fire they ought to have bought her a lampshade!... the cat and what answer did the fairy make?... the loaf she hit me with her stick on my head and stomach.... the cat and then?... bread i allowed myself to be convinced; but, at the last moment, light decided on the moonbeam dress at the bottom of the chest with catskin's treasures.... the cat come, stop chattering, time presses.... our future is at stake.... you have heard--the fairy has just said so--that the end of this journey will, at the same time, mark the end of our lives.... it is our business, therefore, to prolong it as much as possible and by every possible means.... but there is another thing: we must think of the fate of our race and the destiny of our children.... bread hear, hear!... the cat is right!... the cat listen to me!... all of us here present, animals, things and elements, possess a soul which man does not yet know. that is why we retain a remnant of independence; but, if he finds the blue bird, he will know all, he will see all and we shall be completely at his mercy.... this is what i have just learned from my old friend, night, who is also the guardian of the mysteries of life.... it is to our interest, therefore, at all costs to prevent the finding of that bird, even if we have to go so far as to endanger the lives of the children themselves.... the dog (_indignantly_) what's the fellow saying?... just say that again, will you, to see if i heard right?... bread order! order!... it's not your turn to speak!... i'm in the chair at this meeting.... fire who made you chairman?... water (_to_ fire) hold your tongue!... what are you interfering with?... fire i shall interfere where i choose.... and i want none of your remarks.... sugar (_concilatorily_) excuse me.... do not let us quarrel.... this is a serious moment.... we must, above all things, decide what measures to adopt.... bread i quite agree with sugar and the cat.... the dog this is ridiculous!... there is man and that's all!... we have to obey him and do as he tells us!... that is the one and only fact!... i recognise no one but him!... hurrah for man!... man for ever!... in life or death, all for man!... man is god!... bread i quite agree with the dog. the cat (_to the_ dog) but at least give your reasons.... the dog there are no reasons!... i love man and that's enough!... if you do anything against him, i will throttle you first and i will go and tell him everything.... sugar (_intervening sweetly_) excuse me.... let us not embitter the discussion.... from a certain point of view, you are both of you right.... there is something to be said on both sides.... bread i quite agree with sugar!... the cat are we not, all of us, water, fire you yourselves, bread and the dog, the victims of a nameless tyranny?... do you remember the time when, before the coming of the despot, we wandered at liberty upon the face of the earth?... fire and water were the sole masters of the world; and see what they have come to!... as for us puny descendants of the great wild animals.... look out!... pretend to be doing nothing!... i see the fairy and light coming.... light has taken sides with man; she is our worst enemy.... here they are.... _enter, on the right, the_ fairy, _in the shape of an old woman, and_ light, _followed by_ tyltyl _and_ mytyl. the fairy well?... what is it?... what are you doing in that corner?... you look like conspirators.... it is time to start.... i have decided that light shall be your leader.... you will obey her as you would me and i am giving her my wand.... the children will pay a visit to their late grandparents this evening.... you will remain behind; that is more discreet.... they will spend the evening in the bosom of their dead family.... meanwhile, you will be getting ready all that is wanted for to-morrow's journey, which will be a long one.... come, up, be off and every one to his post!... the cat (_hypocritically_) that is just what i was saying to them, madam.... i was encouraging them to do their duty bravely and conscientiously; unfortunately, the dog, who kept on interrupting me.... the dog what's that?... just wait a bit i... (_he is about to leap upon the_ cat, _but_ tyltyl _foreseeing his intention, stops with a threatening gesture_.) tyltyl down, tylô!... take care; and, if ever i catch you again... the dog my little god, you don't know, it was he who... tyltyl (_threatening him_) be quiet!... the fairy come, that will do.... let bread hand the cage for this evening to tyltyl.... it is just possible that the blue bird may be hidden in the past, at the grandparents'.... in any case, it is a chance which we must not neglect.... well, bread, the cage? bread (_solemnly_) one moment, if you please, mrs. fairy.... (_like an orator making a speech_) i call upon all of you to bear witness that this silver cage, which was entrusted to my care by.... the fairy (_interrupting him_) enough!... no speeches!... we will go out this way and the children that.... tyltyl (_rather anxiously_) are we to go all alone?... mytyl i feel hungry!... tyltyl i, too!... the fairy (_to_ bread) open your turkish robe and give them a slice of your good stomach.... (bread _opens his robe, draws his scimitar and cuts two slices out of his stomach and hands them to the_ children.) sugar (_approaching the_ children) allow me at the same time to offer you a few sugar-sticks.... (_he breaks off the five fingers of his left hand, one by one, and presents them to the_ children.) mytyl what is he doing?... he is breaking all his fingers!... sugar (_engagingly_) taste them, they are capital... they're made of real barley-sugar.... mytyl (_tasting one of the fingers_) oh, how good they are!... have you many of them?... sugar (_modestly_) yes; as many as i want.... mytyl does that hurt you much, when you break them off?... sugar not at all.... on the contrary, it's a great advantage; they grow again at once and so i always have new, clean fingers.... the fairy come, children, don't eat too much sugar.... don't forget that you are to have supper presently with your grandpapa and grandmamma.... tyltyl are they here?... the fairy you shall see them at once.... tyltyl how can we see them, when they are dead?... the fairy how can they be dead, when they live in your memory?... men do not know this secret, because they know so little; whereas you, thanks to the diamond, are about to see that the dead who are remembered live as happily as though they were not dead.... tyltyl is light coming with us? the fairy no, it is more proper that this visit should be confined to the family.... i will wait near here, so as not to appear indiscreet.... they did not invite me.... tyltyl which way are we to go?... the fairy over there.... you are on the threshold of the land of memory.... as soon as you have turned the diamond, you will see a big tree with a board on it, which will show you that you are there.... but don't forget that you are to be back, both of you, by a quarter to nine.... it is extremely important.... now mind and be punctual, for all would be lost if you were late.... good-bye for the present!... (_calling the_ cat, _the_ dog, light, _etc_.) this way.... and the little ones that way.... (_she goes out to the right, with_ light, _the_ animals, _etc., while the_ children _go out to the left_.) curtain scene 2.--_the land of memory_. _a thick fog, from which stands out, on the right, close to the footlights, the trunk of a large oak, with a board nailed to it. a vague, milky, impenetrable light prevails_. tyltyl _and_ mytyl _are at the foot of the oak_. tyltyl here is the tree!... mytyl there's the board!... tyltyl i can't read it.... wait, i will climb up on this root.... that's it.... it says, "land of memory." mytyl is this where it begins?... tyltyl yes, there's an arrow.... mytyl well, where are grandad and granny?... tyltyl behind the fog.... we shall see.... mytyl i can see nothing at all!... i can't see my feet or my hands.... (_whimpering_) i'm cold!... i don't want to travel any more.... i want to go home.... tyltyl come, don't keep on crying, just like water.... you ought to be ashamed of yourself.... a great big little girl like you.... look, the fog is lifting already.... we shall see what's behind it.... (_the mist begins to move; it grows thinner and lighter, disperses, evaporates. soon, in a more and more transparent light, appears, under a leafy vault, a cheerful little peasant's cottage, covered with creepers. the door and windows are open. there are bee-hives under a shed, flower-pots on the window-sills, a cage with a sleeping blackbird. beside the door is a bench, on which an old peasant and his wife_, tyltyl's _grandfather and grandmother, are seated, both sound asleep_.) tyltyl (_suddenly recognising them_) it's grandad and granny!... mytyl (_clapping her hands_) yes! yes!... so it is! so it is!... tyltyl (_still a little distrustful_) take care!... we don't know yet if they can stir.... let's keep behind the tree.... (granny tyl _opens her eyes, raises her head, stretches herself, gives a sigh and looks at_ gaffer tyl, _who also wakes slowly from his sleep_.) granny tyl i have a notion that our grandchildren who are still alive are coming to see us today.... gaffer tyl they are certainly thinking of as, for i feel anyhow and i have pins and needles in my legs.... granny tyl i think they must be quite near, for i see tears of joy dancing before my eyes.... gaffer tyl no, no, they are a long way off.... i still feel weak.... granny tyl i tell you they are here; i am quite strong.... tyltyl _and_ mytyl (_rushing up from behind the oak_) here we are!... here we are!... gaffer! granny!... it's we!... it's we!... gaffer tyl there!... you see?... what did i tell you?... i was sure they would come to-day.... granny tyl tyltyl!... mytyl!... it's you!... it's she!... (_trying to run to meet them_) i can't run!... i've still got the rheumatics!... gaffer tyl (_hobbling along as fast as he can_) no more can i.... that's because of my wooden leg, which i still wear instead of the one i broke when i fell off the big oak.... (_the_ grandparents _and the_ children _exchange frantic embraces_.) granny tyl how tall and strong you've grown, tyltyl! gaffer tyl (_stroking_ mytyl's _hair_) and mytyl!... just look at her.... what pretty hair, what pretty eyes!... granny tyl come and kiss me again!... come on to my lap.... gaffer tyl and what about me?... granny tyl no, no.... come to me first.... how are daddy and mummy tyl?... tyltyl quite well, granny.... they were asleep when we went out.... granny tyl (_gazing at them and covering them with caresses_) lord, how pretty they are and how nice and clean!... was it mummy who washed you?... and there are no holes in your stockings!... i used to darn them once, you know.... why don't you come to see us oftener?... it makes us so happy!... it is months and months now that you've forgotten us and that we have seen nobody.... tyltyl we couldn't, granny; and to-day its only because of the fairy.... granny tyl we are always here, waiting for a visit from those who are alive.... they come so seldom!... the last time you were here, let me see, when was it?... it was on all-hallows, when the church-bells were ringing.... tyltyl all-hallows?... we didn't go out that day, for we both had very bad colds.... granny tyl no; but you thought of us.... tyltyl yes.... granny tyl well, every time you think of us, we wake up and see you again.... tyltyl what, is it enough to... granny tyl but come, you know that.... tyltyl no, i didn't know.... granny tyl (_to_ gaffer tyl) it's astonishing, up there.... they don't know yet.... do they never learn anything?... gaffer tyl it's as in our own time.... the living are so stupid when they speak of the others.... tyltyl do you sleep all the time?... gaffer tyl yes, we get plenty of sleep, while waiting for a thought of the living to come and wake us.... ah, it is good to sleep when life is done.... but it is pleasant also to wake up from time to time.... tyltyl so you are not really dead?... gaffer tyl what do you say?... what is he saying?... now he's using words we don't understand.... is it a new word, a new invention?... tyltyl the word "dead"?... gaffer tyl yes, that was the word.... what does it mean?... tyltyl why, it means that one's no longer alive.... gaffer tyl how silly they are, up there!... tyltyl is it nice here?... gaffer tyl oh, yes; not bad, not bad; and, if one could just have a smoke.... tyltyl aren't you allowed to smoke?... gaffer tyl yes, it's allowed; but i've broken my pipe.... granny tyl yes, yes, all would be well, if only you would come and see us oftener.... do you remember, tyltyl?... the last time i baked you a lovely apple-tart.... you ate such a lot of it that you made yourself ill.... tyltyl but i haven't eaten any apple-tart since last year.... there were no apples this year.... granny tyl don't talk nonsense.... here, we have them always.... tyltyl that's different.... granny tyl what? that's different?... why, nothing's different when we're able to kiss each other.... tyltyl (_looking first at his_ grandmother _and then at his_ grandfather) you haven't changed, grandad, not a bit, not a bit.... and granny hasn't changed a bit either.... but you're better-looking.... gaffer tyl well, we feel all right.... we have stopped growing older.... but you, how tall you're growing!... yes, you're shooting up finely.... look, over there, on the door, is the mark of the last time.... that was on all-hallows.... now then, stand up straight.... (tyltyl _stands up against the door_.) four fingers taller!... that's immense!... (mytyl _also stands up against the door_.) and mytyl, four and a half!... aha, ill weeds grow apace!... how they've grown, oh, how they've grown!... tyltyl (_looking around him with delight_) nothing is changed, everything is in its old place!... only everything is prettier!... there is the clock with the big hand which i broke the point off.... gaffer tyl and here is the soup-tureen you chipped a corner off.... tyltyl and here is the hole which i made in the door, the day i found the gimlet.... gaffer tyl yes, you've done some damage in your time!... and here is the plum-tree in which you were so fond of climbing, when i wasn't looking.... it still has its fine red plums.... tyltyl but they are finer than ever!... mytyl and here is the old blackbird!... does he still sing?... (_the blackbird wakes and begins to sing at the top of his voice_.) granny tyl you see.... as soon as one thinks of him.... tyltyl (_observing with amazement that the blackbird is quite blue_) but he's blue!... why, that's the bird, the blue bird which i am to take back to the fairy.... and you never told us that you had him here!... oh, he's blue, blue, blue as a blue glass marble!... (_entreatingly_) grandad, granny, will you give him to me?... gaffer tyl yes, perhaps, perhaps.... what do you think, granny?... granny tyl certainly, certainly.... what use is he to us?... he does nothing but sleep.... we never hear him sing.... tyltyl i will put him in my cage.... i say, where is my cage?... oh, i know, i left it behind the big tree.... (_he runs to the tree, fetches the cage and puts the blackbird into it_.) so, really, you've really given him to me?... how pleased the fairy will be!... and light too!... gaffer tyl mind you, i won't answer for the bird.... i'm afraid that he will never get used again to the restless life up there and that he'll come back here by the first wind that blows this way.... however, we shall see.... leave him there, for the present, and come and look at the cow.... tyltyl (_noticing the hives_) and how are the bees getting on? gaffer tyl oh, pretty well.... they are no longer alive, as you call it up there; but they work hard.... tyltyl (_going up to the hives_) oh, yes!... i can smell the honey!... how heavy the hives must be!... all the flowers are so beautiful!... and my little dead sisters, are they here too?... mytyl and where are my three little brothers who were buried?... (_at these words, seven little_ children, _of different sizes, like a set of pan's pipes, come out of the cottage, one by one_.) granny tyl here they are, here they are!... as soon as you think of them, as soon as you speak of them, they are there, the darlings!... (tyltyl _and_ mytyl _run to meet the_ children. _they hustle and hug one another and dance and whirl about and utter screams of joy_.) tyltyl hullo, pierrot!... (_they clutch each other by the hair_.) ah, so we're going to fight again, as in the old days.... and robert!... i say, jean, what's become of your top?... madeleine and pierette and pauline!... and here's riquette!... mytyl oh, riquette, riquette!... she's still crawling on all fours!... granny tyl yes, she has stopped growing. tyltyl (_noticing the little_ dog _yelping around them_) there's kiki, whose tail i cut off with pauline's scissors.... he hasn't changed either.... gaffer tyl (_sententiously_) no, nothing changes here.... tyltyl and pauline still has a pimple on her nose.... granny tyl yes, it won't go away; there's nothing to be done for it.... tyltyl oh, how well they look, how fat and glossy they are!... what jolly cheeks they have!... they look well fed.... granny tyl they have been much better since they ceased living.... there's nothing more to fear, nobody is ever ill, one has no anxiety.... (_the clock inside the cottage strikes eight_.) granny tyl (_amazed_) what's that?... gaffer tyl i don't know, i'm sure.... it must be the clock.... granny tyl it can't be.... it never strikes.... gaffer tyl because we no longer think of the time.... was any one thinking of the time?... tyltyl yes, i was.... what is the time?... gaffer tyl i'm sure i can't tell.... i've forgotten how.... it struck eight times, so i suppose it's what they call eight o'clock up there.... tyltyl light expects me at a quarter to nine.... it's because of the fairy.... it's extremely important.... i'm off!... granny tyl don't leave us like that, just as supper's ready!... quick, quick, let's lay the table outside.... i've got some capital cabbage-soup and a beautiful plum-tart.... (_they get out the table, dishes, plates, etc., and lay for supper outside the door, all helping_.) tyltyl well, as i've got the blue bird.... and then it's so long since i tasted cabbage-soup.... ever since i've been, travelling.... they don't have it at the hotels.... granny tyl there!... that didn't take long!... sit down, children.... don't let us lose time, if you're in a hurry.... (_they have lit the lamp and served the soup. the_ grandparents _and the_ children _sit down round the table, jostling and elbowing one another and laughing and screaming with pleasure_.) tyltyl (_eating like a glutton_) how good it is!... oh, how good it is!...i want some more! more!... (_he brandishes his wooden spoon and noisily hits his plate with it_.) gaffer tyl come, come, a little more quiet.... you're just as ill-behaved as ever; and you'll break your plate.... tyltyl (_half-raising himself on his stool_) i want more, more!... (_he seizes the tureen, drags it toward him and upsets it and the soup, which trickles over the table and down over their knees and scalds them. yells and screams of pain_.) granny tyl there!... i told you so!... gaffer tyl (_giving tyltyl a loud box on the ear_) that's one for you!... tyltyl (_staggered for a moment, next puts his hand to his cheek with an expression of rapture_) oh, that's just like the slaps you used to give me when you were alive?... grandad, how nice it was and how good it makes one feel!... i must give you a kiss!... gaffer tyl very well; there's more where that came from, if you like them.... (_the clock strikes half-past eight_) tyltyl (_starting up_) half-past eight!... (_he flings down his spoon_.) mytyl, we've only just got time!... granny tyl oh, i say!... just a few minutes more!... your house isn't on fire!... we see you so seldom.... tyltyl no, we can't possibly.... light is so kind.... and i promised her.... come, mytyl, come!... gaffer tyl goodness gracious, how tiresome the living are with all their business and excitement!... tyltyl (_taking his cage and hurriedly kissing everybody all round_) good-bye, grandad.... good-bye, granny.... good-bye, brothers and sisters, pierrot, robert, pauline, madeleine, riquette and you, too, kiki.... i feel we mustn't stay.... don't cry, granny; we will come back often.... granny tyl come back every day!... tyltyl yes, yes; we will come back as often as we can.... granny tyl it's our only pleasure and it's such a treat for us when your thoughts visit us!... gaffer tyl we have no other amusements.... tyltyl quick, quick!... my cage!... my bird!... gaffer tyl (_handing him the cage_) here they are!... you know, i don't warrant him; and if he's not the right colour... tyltyl good-bye! good-bye!... the brothers and sisters tyl good-bye, tyltyl! good-bye, mytyl!... remember the barley-sugar!... good-bye!... come again!... come again!... (_they all wave their handkerchiefs while_ tyltyl _and_ mytyl _slowly move away. but already, during the last sentences, the fog of the beginning of the scene has been gradually re-forming, so that, at the end, all has disappeared in the mist and, at the fall of the curtain_, tyltyl _and_ mytyl _are again alone visible under the big oak_.) tyltyl it's this way, mytyl.... mytyl where is light?... tyltyl i don't know.... (_looking at the bird in the cage_.) but the bird is no longer blue!... he has turned black!... mytyl give me your hand, little brother.... i feel so frightened and so cold.... curtain act iii. scene 1.--_the palace of_ night. _a large and wonderful hall of an austere, rigid, metallic and sepulchral magnificence, giving the impression of a greek temple with columns, architraves, flagstones and ornaments of black marble, gold and ebony. the hall is trapezium-shaped. basalt steps, occupying almost the entire width, divide it into three successive stages, which rise gradually toward the back. on the right and left, between the columns, are doors of sombre bronze. at the back, a monumental door of brass. the palace is lit only by a vague light that seems to emanate mainly from the brilliancy of the marble and the ebony. at the rise of the curtain_, night, _in the form of a very old woman, clad in long, black garments, is seated on the steps of the second stage between two children, of whom one, almost naked, like cupid, is smiling in a deep sleep, while the other is standing up, motionless and veiled from head to foot_. _enter from the right, in the foreground, the_ cat night who goes there? the cat (_sinking heavily upon the marble steps_) it is i, mother night.... i am worn out.... night what's the matter, child?... you look pale and thin and you are splashed with mud to your very whiskers.... have you been fighting on the tiles again, in the snow and rain?... the cat it has nothing to do with the tiles!... it's our secret that's at stake!... it's the beginning of the end!... i have managed to escape for a moment to warn you; but i greatly fear that there is nothing to be done.... night why?... what has happened?... the cat i have told you of little tyltyl, the woodcutter's son, and of the magic diamond.... well, he is coming here to demand the blue bird of you.... night he hasn't got it yet..... the cat he will have it soon, unless we perform some miracle.... this is how the matter stands: light, who is guiding him and betraying us all, for she has placed herself entirely on man's side, light has learned that the blue bird, the real one, the only one that can live in the light of day, is hidden here, among the blue birds of the dreams that live on the rays of the moon and die as soon as they set eyes on the sun.... she knows that she is forbidden to cross the threshold of your palace, but she is sending the children; and, as you cannot prevent man from opening the doors of your secrets, i do not know how all this will end.... in any case, if, unfortunately, they should lay their hands on the real blue bird, there would be nothing for us but to disappear.... night oh dear, oh dear!.... what times we live in!... i never have a moment's peace.... i cannot understand man, these last few years.... what is he aiming at?... must he absolutely know everything?... already he has captured a third of my mysteries, all my terrors are afraid and dare not leave the house, my ghosts have taken flight, the greater part of my sicknesses are ill.... the cat i know, mother night, i know, the times are hard and we are almost alone in our struggle against man.... but i hear them coming.... i see only one way: as they are children, we must give them such a fright that they will not dare to persist or to open the great door at the back, behind which they would find the birds of the moon.... the secrets of the other caverns will be enough to distract their attention and terrify them.... night (_listening to a sound outside_) what do i hear?... are there many of them?... the cat it is nothing; it is our friends, bread and sugar; water is not very well and fire could not come, because he is related to light.... the dog is the only one who is not on our side; but it is never possible to keep him away.... (_enter timidly, on the right, in the foreground, tyltyl, mytyl, bread, sugar and the dog_.) the cat (_rushing up to tyltyl_) this way, little master, this way.... i have told night, who is delighted to see you.... you must forgive her, she is a little indisposed; that is why she was not able to come to meet you.... tyltyl good-day, mrs. night.... night (_in an offended voice_) good-day?... i am not used to that.... you might say, good-night, or, at least. good-evening.... tyltyl (_mortified_) i beg your pardon, ma'am....i did not know....(_pointing to the two_ children.) are those your two little boys?... they are very nice.... night this is sleep.... tyltyl why is he so fat?... night that is because he sleeps well.... tyltyl and the other, hiding himself?... why does he veil his face?...is he ill?... what is his name?... night that is sleep's sister.... it is better not to mention her name.... tyltyl why?... night because her name is not pleasant to hear.... but let us talk of something else.... the cat tells me that you have come here to look for the blue bird.... tyltyl yes, ma'am, if you will allow me.... will you tell me where he is?... night i don't know, dear.... all i can say is that he is not here.... i have never seen him.... tyltyl yes, yes.... light told me that he was here; and light knows what she is saying.... will you hand me your keys?... night but you must understand, dear, that i cannot give my keys like that to the first comer.... i have the keeping of all nature's secrets and i am absolutely forbidden to deliver them to anybody, especially to a child.... tyltyl you have no right to refuse them to man when he asks you for them....i know that.... night who told you?... tyltyl light.... night light again! always light!... how dare she interfere, how dare she?... the dog shall i take them from her by force, my little god?... tyltyl hold your tongue, keep quiet and try to behave.... (_to_night) come, madam, give me your keys, please.... night have you the sign, at least?... where is it?... tyltyl (_touching his hat_) behold the diamond!... night (_resigning herself to the inevitable_) well, then... here is the key that opens all the doors of the hall.... look to yourself if you meet with a misfortune.... i will not be responsible.... bread (_very anxiously_) is it dangerous?... night dangerous?... i will go so far as to say that i myself do not know what i shall do when certain of those bronze doors open upon the abyss.... all around the hall, in each of those basalt caves, are all the evils, all the plagues, all the sicknesses, all the terrors, all the catastrophes, all the mysteries that have afflicted life since the beginning of the world.... i have had trouble enough to imprison them there with the aid of destiny; and it is not without difficulty, i assure you, that i keep some little order among those undisciplined characters.... you have seen what happens when one of them escapes and shows itself on earth.... bread my great age, my experience and my devotion make me the natural protector of these two children; therefore, mrs. night, permit me to ask you a question.... night certainly.... bread in case of danger, which is the way of escape?... night there is no way of escape. tyltyl (_taking the key and climbing the first steps_) let us begin here.... what is behind this bronze door?... night i think it is the ghosts.... it is long since i opened the door and since they came out.... tyltyl (_placing the key in the lock_) i will see.... (_to_ bread) have you the cage for the blue bird?... bread (_with chattering teeth_) i'm not frightened, but don't you think it would be better not to open the door, but to peep through the keyhole?... tyltyl i don't want your advice.... mytyl (_suddenly beginning to cry_) i am frightened!... where is sugar?... i want to go home!... sugar (_eagerly, obsequiously_) here i am, miss, here i am.... don't cry, i will break off one of my fingers so that you may have a sugar-stick.... tyltyl enough of this!... (_he turns the key and cautiously opens the door. forthwith, five or six_ ghosts _of strange and different forms escape and disperse on every side_. mytyl _gives a scream of fright_, bread, _terrified, throws away the cage and goes and hides at the back of the hall, while_ night, _running after the_ ghosts, _cries out to_ tyltyl.) night quick! quick!... shut the door!... they will all escape and we should never be able to catch them again!... they have felt bored in there, ever since man ceased to take them seriously.... (_she runs after the_ ghosts _and endeavours, with the aid of a whip formed of snakes, to drive them back to the door of their prison_.) help me!... here!... here!... tyltyl (_to the_ dog) help her, tylô, at them!... the dog (_leaping up and barking_) yes, yes, yes!... tyltyl and bread, where's bread?... bread (_at the back of the hall_) here.... i am near the door to prevent them from going out.... (_one of the_ ghosts _moves in that direction and he rushes away at full speed, uttering yells of terror_.) night (_to three_ ghosts _whom she has seized by the neck_) this way, you!... (_to_ tyltyl) open the door a little.... (_she pushes the_ ghosts _into the cave_.) there, that's it.... (_the_ dog _brings up two more_.) and these two.... come, quick, in with you!... you know you're only allowed out on all-hallows.... (_she closes the door._) tyltyl (_going to another door_) what's behind this one?.... night what is the good?...i have already told you the blue bird has never been here.... however, as you please.... open the doors if you like.... it's the sicknesses.... tyltyl (_with the key in the lock_.) must i be careful in opening?... night no, it is not worth while.... they are very quiet, the poor little things.... they are not happy.... man, for some time, has been waging such a determined war upon them!... especially since the discovery of the microbes.... open, you will see.... (tyltyl _opens the door quite wide. nothing appears_.) tyltyl don't they come out? night i told you they are almost all poorly and very much discouraged.... the doctors are so unkind to them.... go in for a moment and see for yourself.... (tyltyl _enters the cavern and comes out again immediately_.) tyltyl the blue bird is not there.... they look very ill, those sicknesses of yours.... they did not even lift their heads.... (_one little sickness in slippers, a dressing-gown and a cotton nightcap escapes from the cavern and begins to frisk about the hall_.) look!... there's a little one escaping.... which one is it?... night it's nothing, one of the smallest; it's cold-in-the-head.... it is one of those which are least persecuted and which enjoy the best health.... (_calling to_ cold-in-the-head) come here, dear....it's too soon yet; you must wait for the winter.... (cold-in-the-head, _sneezing, coughing and blowing its nose, returns to the cavern and_ tyltyl _shuts the door_.) tyltyl (_going to the next door_) let us look at this one..... what is in here?... night take care!... it is the wars.... they are more terrible and powerful than ever.... heaven knows what would happen if one of them escaped!... fortunately, they are rather heavy and slow-moving.... but we must stand ready to push back the door, all of us together, while you take a rapid glance into the cavern.... (tyltyl, _with a thousand precautions, opens the door ajar so that there is only a little gap to which he can put his eye. he at once doubles his back against the door, shouting_.) tyltyl quick! quick!... push with all your might!... they have seen me!... they are all coming!... they are breaking down the door!... night come, all together!... push hard!... bread, what are you doing?... push, all of you!... how strong they are!... ah, that's it!... they are giving way!... it was high time!... did you see them?... tyltyl yes, yes!... they are huge and awful!... i don't think that they have the blue bird.... night you may be sure they haven't.... if they had, they would eat him at once.... well, have you had enough of it?... you see there is nothing to be done.... tyltyl i must see everything.... light said so.... night light said so!... it's an easy thing to say when one's afraid and stays at home.... tyltyl let us go to the next.... what is in here?... night this is where i lock up the shades and the terrors.... tyltyl can i open the door?... night certainly.... they are pretty quiet; they are like the sicknesses.... tyltyl (_half-opening the door, with a certain mistrustfulness, and taking a look into the cavern_) are they not there?... night (_looking into the cavern in her turn_) well, shades, what are you doing?... come out for a moment and stretch your legs; it will do you good.... and the terrors also.... there is nothing to be afraid of.... (_a few_ shades _and a few_ terrors, _in the shape of women, shrouded, the former in black veils and the latter in greenish veils, piteously venture to take a few steps outside the cavern; and then, upon a movement of_ tyltyl's, _hastily run back again_.) come, don't be afraid.... it's only a child; he won't hurt you.... (_to_ tyltyl) they have become extremely timid, except the great ones, those whom you see at the back.... tyltyl (_looking into the depths of the cave_) oh, how terrifying they are!... night they are chained up.... they are the only ones that are not afraid of man.... but shut the door, lest they should grow angry.... tyltyl (_going to the next door_) i say!... this is a darker one.... what is here? night there are several mysteries behind this one.... if you are absolutely bent upon it, you may open it too.... but don't go in.... be very cautious and let us get ready to push back the door, as we did with the wars.... tyltyl (_half-opening the door; with unparalleled precautions and passing his head fearsomely through the aperture_) oh!... how cold!... my eyes are smarting!... shut it quickly!... push, oh, push! they are pushing against us!... (night, _the_ dog, _the_ cat _and_ sugar _push back the door_.) oh, i saw!... night what?... tyltyl (_upset_) i don't know, it was awful!... they were all seated like monsters without eyes.... who was the giant who tried to seize me?... night it was probably silence; he has charge of this door.... it appears to have been alarming?... you are quite pale still and trembling all over.... tyltyl yes, i would never have believed.... i had never seen.... and my hands are frozen.... night it will be worse presently if you go on.... tyltyl (_going to the next door_) and this one?... is this terrible also?... night no; there is a little of everything here.... it is where i keep the unemployed stars, my personal perfumes, a few glimmers that belong to me, such as will-o'-the-wisps, glow-worms and fireflies, also the dew, the song of the nightingales and so on.... tyltyl just so, the stars, the song of the nightingales.... this must be the door.... night open it, if you like; there is nothing very bad inside.... (tyltyl _throws the door wide open. the_ stars, _in the shape of beautiful young girls veiled in many-coloured radiancy, escape from their prison, disperse over the hall and form graceful groups on the steps and around the columns, bathed in a sort of luminous penumbra. the_ perfumes of the night, _who are almost invisible, the_ will-o'-the-wisps, _the_ fireflies _and the transparent_ dew _join them, while the_ song of the nightingales _streams from the cavern and floods the palace of_ night.) mytyl (_clapping her hands with delight_) oh, what pretty ladies!... tyltyl and how well they dance!... mytyl and how sweet they smell!... tyltyl and how beautifully they sing!... mytyl what are those, whom one can hardly see?... night those are the perfumes of my shadow. tyltyl and those others, over there, in spun glass?... night they are the dew of the plains and forests.... but enough!... they would never have done.... it is the devil's own business to get them back, once they begin to dance.... (_clapping her hands together_.) now then, stars, quick!... this is not the time for dancing.... the sky is overcast and heavily clouded.... come, quick, in with you, or i will go and fetch a ray of sunlight!... (_the_ stars, perfumes, _etc., take to flight in dismay and rush back into the cavern; and the door is closed upon them. at the same time, the song of the_ nightingale _ceases_.) tyltyl (_going to the door at the back_) here is the great middle door.... night (_gravely_) do not open that one... tyltyl why not?.... night because it's not allowed.... tyltyl then it's here that the blue bird is hidden; light told me so.... night (_maternally_) listen to me, child ... i have been kind and indulgent ... i have done for you what i have never done for any one before ... i have given up all my secrets to you.... i like you, i feel pity for your youth and innocence and i am speaking to you as a mother.... listen to me, my child, and believe me; relinquish your quest, go no further, do not tempt fate, do not open that door.... tyltyl (_a little shaken_) but why?... night because i do not wish you to be lost.... because not one of those, do you hear, not one of those who have opened it, were it but by a hair's breadth, has ever returned alive to the light of day.... because every awful thing imaginable, because all the terrors, all the horrors of which men speak on earth are as nothing compared with the most harmless of those which assail a man from the moment when his eye lights upon the first threats of the abyss to which no one dares give a name.... so much so that i myself, if you are bent, in spite of everything, upon touching that door, will ask you to wait until i have sought safety in my windowless tower... now it is for you to know, for you to reflect.... (mytyl, _all in tears, utters cries of inarticulate terror and tries to drag_ tyltyl _away_.) bread (_with chattering teeth_) don't do it, master dear!... (_flinging himself on his knees_) take pity on us!... i implore you on my knees.... you see that night is right.... the cat you are sacrificing the lives of all of us.... tyltyl i must open the door.... mytyl (_stamping her feet, amid her sobs_) i won't!... i sha'n't!... tyltyl sugar and bread, take mytyl by the hand and run away with her.... i am going to open the door.... night run for your lives!... come quickly!... it is time!... (_she flees._) bread (_fleeing wildly_) at least wait till we are at the end of the hall!... the cat (_also fleeing_) wait! wait!... (_they hide behind the columns at the other end of the hall_. tyltyl _remains alone with the dog by the monumental door_.) the dog (_panting and hiccoughing with suppressed fright_) i shall stay, i shall stay!... i'm not afraid!... i shall stay!... i shall stay with my little god!... i shall stay!... i shall stay!... tyltyl (_patting the_ dog) that's right, tylô, that's right!... kiss me.... you and i are two.... and now, steady!... (_he places the key in the lock. a cry of alarm comes from the other end of the hall, where the runaways have taken refuge. the key has hardly touched the door before its tall and wide leaves open in the middle, glide apart and disappear on either side in the thickness of the walls, suddenly revealing the most unexpected of gardens, unreal, infinite and ineffable, a dream-garden bathed in nocturnal light, where, among stars and planets, illumining all that they touch, flying ceaselessly from jewel to jewel and from moonbeam to moonbeam, fairy-like blue birds hover perpetually and harmoniously down to the confines of the horizon, birds innumerable to the point of appearing to be the breath, the azured atmosphere, the very substance of the wonderful garden_.) tyltyl (_dazzled, bewildered, standing in the light of the garden_) oh!... heaven!... (_turning to those who have fled_) come quickly!... they are here!... it's they, it's they, it's they!... we have them at last!... thousands of blue birds!... millions!.... thousands of millions!... there will be too many!... come, mytyl!... come, tylô!... come, all!... help me!... (_darting in among the birds_.) you can catch them by handfuls!... they are not shy!... they are not afraid of us!.... here! here!.... (mytyl _and the others run up. they all enter the dazzling garden, except_ night _and the_ cat.) you see!... there are too many of them!... they fly into my hands!... look, they are eating the moonbeams!... mytyl, where are you?.... there are so many blue wings, so many feathers falling that one cannot see anything for them!.... don't bite them, tylô!.... don't hurt them!.... take them very gently!.... mytyl (_covered with blue birds_) i have caught seven already!.... oh, how they flap their wings!.... i can't hold them!.... tyltyl nor can i!.... i have too many of them!... they're escaping!.... they're coming back!.... tylô has some, too!.... they will drag us with them!.... they will take us up to the sky!.... quick, let us go out this way!.... light is waiting for us!.... how pleased she will be!.... this way, this way!.... (_they escape from the garden, with their hands full of struggling birds, and, crossing the whole hall amid the mad whirl of the azure wings, go out on the right, where they first entered, followed by_ bread _and_ sugar, _who have caught no birds_. night _and the_ cat, _left alone, return to the back of the stage and look anxiously into the garden_.) night haven't they got him?... the cat no.... i see him there, on that moonbeam.... they could not reach him, he kept too high.... (_the_ curtain _falls. immediately after, before the dropped curtain_, enter, _at the same time, on the left_, light _and on the right_, tyltyl, mytyl _and the_ dog, _who run up all covered by the birds which they have captured. but already the birds appear lifeless and, with hanging heads and drooping wings, are nothing more in their hands than inert remains._) light well, have you caught him?... tyltyl yes, yes!...as many as we wanted!... there are thousands of them!... here they are!... do you see them?... (_looking at the birds, which he holds out to_ light, _and perceiving that they are dead_) why, they are dead!... what have they done to them?... yours too, mytyl?... tylô's also?... (_angrily flinging down the dead bodies of the birds_) oh, this is too bad?... who killed them?... i am too unhappy!... (_he hides his head in his arms and his whole frame is shaken with sobs._) light (_pressing him maternally in her arms_) do not cry, my child.... you did not catch the one that is able to live in broad daylight.... he has gone elsewhere.... we shall find him again.... the dog (_looking at the dead birds_)) are they good to eat?.... (_they all go out on the left_.) scene 2.--_the forest._ _a forest. it is night. the moon is shining. old trees of various kinds, notably an_ oak, _a_ beech, _an_ elm, _a_ poplar, _a_ fir-tree, _a_ cypress, _a_ lime-tree, _a_ chestnut-tree, _etc_. enter _the_ cat. the cat (_bowing to the trees in turn_) to all the trees here present, greeting!.... the trees (_murmuring in their leaves_) greeting!.... the cat this is a great day, a day of days!.... our enemy is coming to set free your energies and to deliver himself into your hands..... it is tyltyl, the son of the wood-cutter, who has done you so much harm.... he is seeking the blue bird, whom you have kept hidden from man since the beginning of the world and who alone knows our secret.... (_a murmuring in the leaves_.) what do you say?... ah, it's the poplar!... yes, he possesses a diamond which has the virtue of setting free our spirits for a moment; he can compel us to hand over the blue bird and thenceforth we shall be definitely at man's mercy.... (_a murmuring in the leaves_.) who is speaking?... ah, the oak!... how are you?... (_a murmuring in the leaves of the_ oak.) still got your cold?... does the liquorice no longer look after you?... can't you throw off your rheumatism?... believe me, that's because of the moss; you put too much of it on your feet.... is the blue bird still with you?... (_a murmuring in the leaves of the_ oak.) i beg your pardon?... yes, there is no room for hesitation; we must take the opportunity; he must he done away with.... (_a murmuring in the leaves_.) i didn't quite catch.... oh, yes, he is with his little sister; she must die, too.... (_a murmuring in the leaves_.) yes, they have the dog with them; there is no keeping him away.... (_a murmuring in the leaves_.) what did you say?... bribe him?... impossible.... i have tried everything.... (_a murmuring in the leaves_.) ah, is that you, fir-tree?... yes, get four planks ready.... yes, there are fire, sugar, water and bread besides.... they are all with us, except bread, who is rather doubtful.... light alone is on man's side; but she won't come.... i made the children believe that they ought to steal away while she was asleep.... there never was such an opportunity.... (_a murmuring in the leaves_.) ah, that's the beech's voice!... yes, you are right; we must inform the animals.... has the rabbit got his drum?... is he with you?... good, let him beat the troop at once.... here they are!... (_the roll of the_ rabbit's _drum is heard, diminishing in the distance. enter_ tyltyl, mytyl _and the_ dog.) tyltyl is this the place?... the cat (_obsequiously, eagerly, mealy-mouthed, rushing to meet the_ children) ah, there you are, my little master!... how well you look and how pretty, this evening!.... i went before you to announce your arrival.... all is going well. we shall have the blue bird to-night, i am sure.... i have just sent the rabbit to beat the troop in order to convoke the principal animals of the country.... you can hear them already among the foliage.... listen!... they are a little shy and dare not come near.... (_the sounds are heard of different animals, such as cows, pigs, horses, donkeys, etc. the_ cat, _aside, to_ tyltyl, _taking him apart_) but why have you brought the dog?... i have told you he is on the worst terms with everybody, even the trees.... i fear that his odious presence will spoil everything.... tyltyl i could not get rid of him.... (_to the_ dog, _threatening him_) go away, you ugly thing!... the dog who?... i?... why?... what have i done?... tyltyl i tell you, go away!... we don't want you here and there's an end of it.... you're a nuisance, there!... the dog i sha'n't say a word.... i shall follow you at a distance.... they sha'n't see me.... shall i beg?... the cat (_aside, to_ tyltyl) do you allow this disobedience?... hit him on the nose with your stick; he is really unbearable!... tyltyl (_beating the_ dog) there, that will teach you to be more obedient!... the dog (_yelling_) ow! ow! ow!... tyltyl what do you say?... the dog i must kiss you now you've beaten me!... (_he covers_ tyltyl _with violent kisses and embraces_.) tyltyl come.... that will do.... that's enough.... go away!... mytyl no, no; i want him to stay.... i am afraid of everything when he is not there.... the dog (_leaping up and almost upsetting_ mytyl, _whom he overwhelms with hurried and enthusiastic kisses_) oh, the dear little girl!... how beautiful she is!... how good she is!... how beautiful she is, how sweet she is!...i must kiss her!... once more, once more, once more!... the cat what an idiot!... well, we shall see!... let us lose no time.... turn the diamond.... tyltyl where shall i stand?... the cat in this moonbeam; you will see better.... there, turn it gently!... (tyltyl _turns the diamond. a long-drawn-out rustling shakes the leaves and branches. the oldest and most stately trunks open to make way for the soul which each of them contains. the appearance of these souls differs according to the appearance and the character of the trees which they represent. the soul of the_ elm, _for instance, is a sort of pursy, pot-bellied, crabbed gnome; the_ lime-tree _is placid, familiar and jovial; the_ beech, _elegant and agile; the_ birch, _white, reserved and restless; the_ willow, _stunted, dishevelled and plaintive; the_ fir-tree, _tall, lean and taciturn; the_ cypress, _tragic; the_ chestnut-tree, _pretentious and rather dandified; the_ poplar, _sprightly, cumbersome, talkative. some emerge slowly from their trunks, torpidly stretching themselves, as though they had been imprisoned or asleep for ages; others leap out actively, eagerly; and all come and stand in a circle round the two_ children, _while keeping as near as they can to the tree in which they were born_.) the poplar (_running up first and screaming at the top of his voice_) men?... little men!... we shall be able to talk to them!... we've done with silence!... done with it!... where do they come from?... who are they?... what are they?... (_to the_ lime-tree, _who comes forward quietly smoking his pipe_) do you know them, daddy lime-tree?... the lime-tree i do not remember ever having seen them.... the poplar oh, yes, you must have!... you know all the men; you're always hanging about their houses.... the lime-tree (_examining the_ children) no, i assure you.... i don't know them.... they are too young still.... i only know the lovers who come to see me by moonlight and the topers who drink their beer under my branches.... the chestnut-tree (_affectedly adjusting his eyeglass_) who are these?... are they poor people from the country?... the poplar oh, as for you, mr. chestnut-tree, ever since you have refused to show yourself except in the streets of the big towns... the willow (_hobbling along in a pair of wooden shoes_) oh dear, oh dear!... they have come to cut off my head and arms again for fagots!... the poplar silence!... here is the oak leaving his palace!... he looks far from well this evening.... don't you think he is growing very old?... what can his age be?... the fir-tree says he is four thousand; but i am sure that he exaggerates.... listen; he will tell us all about it.... (_the_ oak _comes slowly forward. he is fabulously old, crowned with mistletoe and clad in a long green gown edged with moss and lichen. he is blind; his white beard streams in the wind. he leans with one hand on a knotty stick and with the other on a young_ oakling, _who serves as his guide. the blue bird is perched on his shoulder. at his approach, the other trees draw themselves up in a row and bow respectfully_.) tyltyl he has the blue bird!... quick! quick!... here!... give it to me!... the trees silence!... the cat (_to_ tyltyl) take of your hat. it's the oak!... the oak (_to_ tyltyl) who are you?.... tyltyl i am tyltyl, sir.... when can i have the blue bird?... the oak tyltyl, the wood-cutter's son?... tyltyl yes, sir.... the oak your father has done us much harm.... in my family alone, he has put to death six hundred of my sons, four hundred and seventy-five uncles and aunts, twelve hundred cousins of both sexes, three hundred and eighty daughters-in-law, and twelve thousand great-grandsons!... tyltyl i know nothing about it, sir.... he did not do it on purpose.... the oak what have you come here for; and why have you made our souls leave their abodes?... tyltyl i beg your pardon, sir, for disturbing you.... the cat said that you would tell us where the blue bird was.... the oak yes, i know that you are looking for the blue bird, that is to say, the great secret of things and of happiness, so that man may make our servitude still harder.... tyltyl oh, no, sir; it is for the fairy bérylune's little girl, who is very ill.... the oak (_laying silence upon him with a gesture_) enough!... i do not hear the animals.... where are they?... all this concerns them as much as us.... we, the trees, must not assume the responsibility alone for the grave measures that have become necessary.... on the day when man hears that we have done what we are about to do, there will be terrible reprisals..... it is right, therefore, that our agreement should be unanimous, so that our silence may be the same.... the fir-tree (_looking over the top of the other trees_) the animals are coming.... they are following the rabbit.... here are the souls of the horse, the bull, the ox, the cow, the wolf, the sheep, the pig, the cock, the goat, the ass, and the bear.... (_enter the souls of the_ animals, _who, as the_ fir-tree _utters their names, come forward and sit down among the trees, with the exception of the soul of the_ goat, _who roams to and fro, and of the_ pig, _who snuffles among the roots_.) the oak are all here present?... the rabbit the hen could not leave her eggs, the hare is out on a run, the stag has a pain in his horns, the fox is ill--here is the doctor's certificate--the goose did not understand and the turkey flew into a passion.... the oak these abstentions are most regrettable.... however, we have a quorum.... you know, my brothers, the nature of our business. the child you see before you, thanks to a talisman stolen from the powers of earth, is able to take possession of the blue bird and thus to snatch from us the secret which we have kept since the origin of life.... now we know enough of man to entertain no doubt as to the fate which he reserves for us once he is in possession of this secret. that is why it seems to me that any hesitation would be both foolish and criminal.... it is a serious moment; the child must be done away with before it is too late.... tyltyl what is he saying?... the dog (_prowling round the_ oak _and showing his fangs_) do you see my teeth, you old cripple?... the beech (_indignantly_) he is insulting the oak!... the oak is that the dog?... drive him out! we must suffer no traitors among us!... the cat (_aside, to_ tyltyl) send the dog away.... it's a misunderstanding.... leave it to me; i will arrange things.... but send him away as quick as you can.... tyltyl (_to the_ dog) will you be off!... the dog do let me worry the gouty old beggar's moss slippers!.... it will be such a joke!... tyltyl hold your tongue!... and be off with you!... be off, you ugly brute!... the dog all right, all right, i'm going.... i'll come back when you want me.... the cat (_aside, to_ tyltyl) it would be a good thing to chain him up, or he will commit some folly; the trees will be angry and all will end badly.... tyltyl what can i do?... i have lost his leash.... the cat here's the ivy just coming along with strong bonds.... the dog (_growling_) i'll come back, i'll come back!... ugh! goutytoes! timbertoes!... pack of old stunted growths, pack of old roots!... it's the cat who's at the bottom of all this!... i'll be even with him!... what have you been whispering about, you sneak, you tiger, you judas!... wow, wow, wow!.... the cat you see, he insults everybody.... tyltyl yes, he is unbearable and one can't hear one's self speak.... mr. ivy, will you chain him up, please?... the ivy (_timorously going up to the_ dog) won't he bite?... the dog (_growling_) on the contrary, on the contrary!... he's going to kiss you!... just wait and see!... come along, come along, you old ball of twine, you!... tyltyl (_threatening him with his stick_) tylô!... the dog (_cringing at_ tyltyl's _feet and wagging his tail_) what am i to do, my little god? tyltyl lie down flat!... obey the ivy.... let him bind you, or.... the dog (_growling between his teeth, while the_ ivy _binds him_) ball of twine i... hunk of yarn!... hangman's rope i... calves' leash!... look, my little god i ... he's cutting my paws!... he's choking me!... tyltyl i don't care!... it's your own fault.... hold your tongue; be quiet; you're unbearable!... the dog you're wrong, for all that.... they mean mischief.... take care, my little god!... he's closing my mouth!... i can't speak!... the ivy (_who has tied up the_ dog _like a parcel_) where shall we put him?... i've muzzled him finely.... he can't utter a word.... the oak fasten him tight down there behind my trunk; to my big root.... we will decide later what had best be done with him.... (_the_ ivy _and the_ poplar _carry the_ dog _behind the_ oak's _trunk_.) the oak is that done?... well, now that we are rid of this inconvenient witness, of this renegade, let us deliberate in accordance with justice and truth.... i will not conceal from you the deep and painful nature of my emotion.... this is the first time that it is given to us to judge man and make him feel our power.... i do not think that, after the harm which he has done us, after the monstrous injustice which we have suffered, there can remain the least doubt as to the sentence that awaits him.... all the trees and all the animals no! no! no!... no doubt at all!... hanging!... death!... the injustice has been too great!... the abuse too wicked!... it has lasted too long!... crush him!... eat him!... at once!... here and now!... tyltyl (_to the_ cat) what is the matter with them?... are they displeased?... the cat don't be alarmed.... they are a little annoyed because spring is late.... leave it to me; i will settle it all.... the oak this unanimity was inevitable.... we must now decide, in order to avoid reprisals, which form of execution will be the most practical, the easiest, the quickest and the safest, which will leave the fewest accusing traces when man finds the little bodies in the forest.... tyltyl what is all this about?... what is he driving at?... i am getting tired of this.... he has got the blue bird; let him hand it over.... the bull (_coming forward_) the most practical and the surest way is a good butt with the horns in the pit of the stomach.... shall i go at him?... the oak who speaks?... the cat it's the bull. the cow it would be better to keep quiet.... i won't meddle with it.... i have all the grass to browse in the field which you can see down there in the blue light of the moon.... i have quite enough to do.... the ox i also.... however, i agree to everything beforehand.... the beech i can offer my highest branch to hang them on.... the ivy and i the slip-knot.... the fir-tree and i the four planks for their little coffin.... the cypress and i a perpetual grant of a tomb.... the willow the simplest way would be to drown them in one of my rivers.... i will take charge of that.... the lime-tree (_in a conciliatory tone_) come, come.... is it really necessary to go to such extremities?... they are very young.... we could quite simply prevent them from doing any harm by keeping them prisoners in an enclosure which i will undertake to form by planting myself all around.... the oak who speaks?... i seem to recognise the honeyed accents of the lime-tree.... the fir-tree yes, it's he.... the oak so there is a renegade among us, as among the animals?... hitherto we have only had to deplore the disloyalty of the fruit-trees; but they are not real trees.... the pig (_rolling his small eyes gluttonously_) i think we should first eat the little girl.... she ought to be very tender.... tyltyl what's he saying?... just wait a bit, you... the cat i don't know what is the matter with them; but things are beginning to look badly.... the oak silence!... what we have to decide is which of us shall have the honour of striking the first blow, who shall ward off from, our tops the greatest danger that has threatened us since the birth of man.... the fir-tree that honour falls to you, our king and our patriarch.... the oak is that the fir-tree speaking?... alas, i am too old!... i am blind and infirm and my numbed arms no longer obey me.... no, to you, brother, ever green, ever upright, to you, who have witnessed the birth of most of these trees, to you be the glory, in default of myself, of the noble act of our deliverance.... the fir-tree i thank you, venerable father.... but as i shall, in any case, have the honour of burying the two victims, i should be afraid of arousing the just jealousy of my colleagues; and i think that, next to ourselves, the oldest and the worthiest and the one that owns the best club is the beech.... the beech you know i am worm-eaten and my club is no longer to be relied upon.... but the elm and the cypress have powerful weapons.... the elm i should be only too pleased; but i can hardly stand upright.... a mole twisted my great toe last night.... the cypress as for me, i am ready.... but, like my brother, the fir-tree, i shall have, if not the privilege of burying them, at least the advantage of weeping over their tomb.... it would be an unlawful plurality of offices.... ask the poplar.... the poplar me?... are you serious?... why, my wood is more tender than the flesh of a child!... and, besides, i don't know what's the matter with me.... i am shivering with fever.... just look at my leaves.... i must have caught cold at sunrise this morning.... the oak (_bursting out with indignation_) you are afraid of man!... even those unprotected and unarmed little children inspire you with the mysterious terror which has always made us the slaves that we are!... enough of this! things being as they are and the opportunity unequalled, i shall go forth alone, old, crippled, trembling, blind as i am, against the hereditary enemy!... where is he?... (_groping with his stick, he moves towards_ tyltyl.) tyltyl (_taking his knife from his pocket_) is it me he's after, that old one, with his big stick?... all the trees (_uttering a cry of alarm at the sight of the knife, they step in between and hold back the_ oak) the knife!... take care!... the knife!... the oak (_struggling_) let me be!... what does it matter?... the knife or the axe!... who's holding me back?... what! are you all here?... what! you all want to.... (_flinging down his_ _stick_) well, so be it!... shame upon us!... let the animals deliver us!... the bull that's right!... i'll see to it!... and with one blow of the horns!... the ox _and_ the cow (_holding him back by the tail_) what are you doing?... don't be a fool!... it's a bad business!... it will end badly.... it is we who will pay for it.... do let be.... it's the wild animals' business.... the bull no, no!... it's my business!... wait and see!... look here, hold me back or there will be an accident!... tyltyl (_to_ mytyl, _who is uttering piercing screams_) don't be afraid!... stand behind me.... i have my knife.... the cock he has plenty of pluck, the little chap!... tyltyl so you've made up your minds, it's me you're going for?... the ass why, of course, my little man; you've taken long enough to see it!... the pig you can say your prayers; your last hour has come.... but don't hide the little girl.... i want to feast my eyes on her.... i'm going to eat her first.... tyltyl what have i done to you?... the sheep nothing at all, my little man.... eaten my little brother, my two sisters, my three uncles, my aunt, my grandpapa and my grandmamma.... wait, wait, when you're down, you shall see that i have teeth also.... the ass and i hoofs!... the horse (_haughtily pawing the ground_) you shall see what you shall see!... would you rather that i tore you with my teeth or knocked you down with a kick?... (_he moves ostentatiously towards_ tyltyl, _who faces him and raises his knife. suddenly the_ horse, _seized with panic, turns and rushes away_.) ah, no!... that's not fair!... that's against the rules!.... he's defending himself!... the cock (_unable to hide his admiration_) i don't care, the little chap's full of grit!... the pig (_to the_ bear _and the_ wolf) let us all rush on them together.... i will support you from the rear.... we will throw them down and share the little girl when she is on the ground.... the wolf divert their attention in front.... i am going to make a turning movement.... (_he goes round_ tyltyl, _whom he attacks from behind and half overthrows_.) tyltyl you brute!... (_he raises himself on one knee brandishing his knife and doing his best to cover his little sister, who utters yells of distress. seeing him half overturned, all the_ animals _and_ trees _come up and try to hit him_. tyltyl _calls distractedly for assistance_.) help! help!... tylô! tylô!... where is the cat?... tylô!... tylette! tylette!... come! come!... the cat (_hypocritically, holding aloof_) i can't come.... i have sprained my paw.... tyltyl (_warding of the blows and defending himself as best he can_) help!... tylô! tylô!... i can't hold out!... there are too many of them!... the bear! the pig! the donkey! the ass! the fir-tree! the beech!... tylô! tylô! tylô!... (_dragging his broken bonds after him, the_ dog _leaps from behind the trunk of the_ oak _and, elbowing his way through_ trees _and_ animals, _flings himself before_ tyltyl, _whom he defends furiously_.) the dog (_distributing great bites_) here! here, my little god!... don't be afraid! have at them!... i know how to use my teeth!... here, there's one for you, bear, in your fat hams!... now then, who wants some more?... here, that's for the pig and that's for the horse and that's for the bull's tail!... there, i've torn the beech's trousers and the oak's petticoat!... the fir-tree's making tracks!... whew, it's warm work!... tyltyl (_overcome_) i'm done for!... the cypress has caught me a great blow on the head.... the dog ow!... that's the willow!... he's broken my paw!... tyltyl they're coming back, they're charging down upon us, all together!... this time, it's the wolf!... the dog wait till i give him one for himself!... the wolf fool!... our brother!... his father drowned your seven puppies!... the dog quite right!... and a good thing too!... it was because they looked like you!... all the trees and animals renegade!... idiot!... traitor!... felon!... simpleton!... judas!... leave him!... he's a dead man!... come over to us!... the dog (_drunk with ardour and devotion_) never! never!... i alone against all of you!... never! never!... true to the gods, to the best, to the greatest!... (_to_ tyltyl) take care, here's the bear!... beware of the bull!... i'll jump at his throat.... ow!... that's a kick.... the ass has broken two of my teeth.... tyltyl i'm done for, tylô!... ah!... that was a blow from the elm.... look, my hand's bleeding.... that's the wolf or the pig.... the dog wait, my little god.... let me kiss you.... there, a good lick.... that will do you good.... keep behind me.... they dare not come again.... yes, though.... here they are coming back!... this time, it's serious!.... we must stand firm!... tyltyl (_dropping to the ground_) no, i can hold out no longer!... the dog (_listening_) they are coming!... i hear them, i scent them!... tyltyl where?... who?... the dog there! there!... it's light!... she has found us!... saved, my little king!... kiss me!... we are saved!... look!... they're alarmed!... they're retreating!... they're afraid!... tyltyl light!... light!... come quick!... hurry!... they have rebelled!... they are all against us!... _enter_ light. _as she comes forward, the dawn rises over the forest, which becomes light_. light what is it?... what has happened?... but, my poor boy, didn't you know?... turn the diamond!... they will return into silence and obscurity; and you will no longer perceive their hidden feelings.... (tyltyl _turns the diamond. immediately, the souls of all the_ trees _rush back into the trunks, which close again. the souls of the_ animals _also disappear; and a peaceful_ cow _and_ sheep, _etc., are seen browsing in the distance. the forest becomes harmless once more_, tyltyl _looks around him in amazement_.) tyltyl where are they?... what was the matter with them?... were they mad?... light no, they are always like that; but we do not know it because we do not see it.... i told you so before; it is dangerous to wake them when i am not there.... tyltyl (_wiping his knife_) well, but for the dog and if i had not had my knife!... i would never have believed that they were so wicked!... light you see that man is all alone against all in this world.... the dog are you very badly hurt, my little god?... tyltyl nothing serious.... as for mytyl, they have not touched her.... but you, my dear tylô?... your mouth is all over blood and your paw is broken!... the dog it is not worth speaking of.... it won't show to-morrow.... but it was a tough fight!... the cat (_appearing from behind a thicket, limping_) i should think so!... the ox caught me a blow with his horns in the stomach.... you can't see the marks, but it's very painful.... and the oak broke my paw.... the dog i should like to know which one.... mytyl (_stroking the_ cat) my poor tylette, did he really?.... where were you?... i did not see you.... the cat (_hypocritically_) mummy dear, i was wounded at the first, while attacking that horrid pig, who wanted to eat you.... and then the oak gave me a great blow which struck me senseless.... the dog (_to the_ cat, _between his teeth_) as for you, i want a word with you presently.... it will keep!... the cat (_plaintively, to_ mytyl) mummy dear, he's insulting me.... he wants to hurt me.... mytyl (_to the_ dog) leave him alone, will you, you ugly beast?... (_they all go out_.) curtain act iv scene 1.--_before the curtain_. _the curtain represents beautiful clouds_ (_enter_ tyltyl, mytyl, light, _the_ dog, _the_ cat, bread, fire, sugar, water _and_ milk.) light i believe we have the blue bird this time. i ought to have thought of it before. but the idea came to me, like a ray from the sky, this morning only, when i recovered my strengthen the dawn.... we are at the entrance to the enchanted palaces where all men's joys, all men's happinesses are gathered together in the charge of fate. tyltyl are there many of them? shall we have any? are they little? light some are little and some are great; some are coarse and some are delicate; some are very beautiful and others not so pleasant to look upon.... but the ugliest were expelled from the garden some time ago and took refuge with the miseries. for we must not forget that the miseries inhabit an adjoining cave, which communicates with the garden of happiness and is separated from it only by a sort of vapour or fine veil, lifted at every moment by the winds that blow from the heights of justice or from the depths of eternity.... what we have now to do is to organise ourselves and take certain precautions. generally, the joys are very good; but, still, there are some of them that are more dangerous and treacherous than the greatest miseries. bread i have an idea! if they are dangerous and treacherous, would it not be better for us all to wait at the door, so that we may lend a hand to the children should they be obliged to fly?.... the dog not at all! not at all! i mean to go everywhere with my little gods! let those who are afraid remain at the door! we have no need (_looking at_ bread) of cowards (_looking at the_ cat) or traitors!... fire i'm going!... i hear it's great fun!... they dance all the time.... bread do they have any eating as well? water (_moaning_) i have never known the smallest happiness!... i should like to see some at last!.... light hold your tongues! who asked your opinions?... this is what i have decided: the dog, bread and sugar shall go with the children. water shall stay outside, because she is too cold, and fire, because he is too turbulent. i strongly urge milk to remain at the door, because he is so impressionable. as for the cat, he can do as he likes..... the cat i shall take the opportunity of calling on the chief miseries of my acquaintance, who live next door to the joys.... tyltyl and you, light? aren't you coming? light i cannot go into the joys like this: most of them cannot endure me. but i have here the thick veil with which i cover myself when i visit happy people.... (_she unfolds a long veil and wraps herself in it carefully_.) not a ray of my you! must startle them, for there are many happinesses that are afraid and are not happy.... there... like this, even the ugliest and coarsest of them will have nothing to fear.... (_the curtain opens and discloses the next scene_) scene 2.--_the palace of happiness_. _when the curtain of clouds opens, the stage represents, in the forefront of the palace, a sort of hall formed of tall marble columns, between which hang heavy purple draperies, supported by golden ropes and concealing all the background. the architecture suggests the most sensual and sumptuous moments of the venetian or flemish renascence, as seen in the pictures of veronese or rubens, with garlands, horns of plenty, fringes, vases, statues, gildings, lavishly distributed on every side. in the middle stands a massive and marvellous table of jasper and silver-gilt, laden with candlesticks, glass, gold and silver plate and fabulous viands. around the table, the biggest luxuries of the earth sit eating, drinking, shouting, singing, tossing and lolling about or sleeping among the haunches of venison, the miraculous fruits, the overturned jars and ewers. they are enormously, incredibly fat and red in the face, covered with velvet and brocade, crowned with gold and pearls and precious stones. beautiful female slaves incessantly bring decorated dishes and foaming beverages. vulgar, blatantly hilarious music, in which the brasses predominate. the stage is bathed in a red and heavy light_. (tyltyl, mytyl, _the_ dog, bread _and_ sugar _are a little awestruck at first end crowd round_ light _in the foreground, to the right. the_ cat, _without a word, walks to the background, also to the right, lifts a dark curtain and disappears_.) tyltyl who are those fat gentlemen enjoying themselves and eating such a lot of good things? light they are the biggest luxuries of the earth, the ones that can be seen with the naked eye. it is possible, though not very likely, that the blue bird may have strayed among them for a moment. that is why you must not turn the diamond yet. for form's sake, we will begin by searching this part of the hall. tyltyl can we go up to them? light certainly. they are not ill-natured, although they are vulgar and usually rather ill-bred. mytyl what beautiful cakes they have!.... the dog and such game! and sausages! and legs of lamb and calves' liver!... there is nothing nicer or lovelier in the world than liver!... bread except quartern-loaves made of fine white flour! they have splendid ones!... how lovely they are! how lovely they are!... sugar i beg your pardon, i beg your pardon, i beg a thousand pardons.... allow me, allow me.... i would not like to hurt anybody's feelings; but are you not forgetting the sweetmeats, which form the glory of that table and which, if i may say so, surpass in grandeur and magnificence all that exists in this hall, or perhaps anywhere else?... tyltyl how pleased and happy they look!... and they are shouting! and laughing! and singing!... i believe they have seen us.... (_a dozen of the biggest_ luxuries _have risen from table and now, holding their stomachs in their hands, advance laboriously towards the_ children.) light have no fear, they are very affable.... they will probably invite you to dinner.... do not accept, do not accept anything, lest you should forget your mission.... tyltyl what? not even a tiny cake? they look so good, so fresh, so well iced with sugar, covered with candied fruits and brimming over with cream!... light they are dangerous and would break your will. a man should know how to sacrifice something to the duty he is performing. refuse politely, but firmly. the biggest of the luxuries (_holding out his hand to_ tyltyl) how do you do, tyltyl?... tyltyl (_surprised_) why, do you know me?... who are you?... the luxury i am the biggest of the luxuries, the luxury of being rich; and i come, in the name of my brothers, to beg you and your family to honour our endless repast with your presence. you will find yourself surrounded by all that is best among the real, big luxuries of this earth. allow me to introduce to you the chief of them. here is my son-in-law, the luxury of being a landowner, who has a stomach shaped like a pear. this is the luxury of satisfied vanity, who has such a nice, puffy face, (_the_ luxury of satisfied vanity _gives a patronising nod_.) these are the luxury of drinking when you are not thirsty and the luxury of eating when you are not hungry: they are twins and their legs are made of macaroni. (_they bow, staggering_.) here are the luxury of knowing nothing, who is as deaf as a post, and the luxury of understanding nothing, who is as blind as a bat. here are the luxury of doing nothing and the luxury of sleeping more than necessary: their hands are made of bread-crumb and their eyes of peach-jelly. lastly, here is fat laughter: his mouth is split from ear to ear and he is irresistible.... (fat laughter _bows, writhing and holding his sides_.) tyltyl (_pointing to a_ luxury _who is standing a little on one side_) and who is that one, who dares not come up to us and who is turning his back?... the luxury of being rich do not ask about him: he is a little awkward and is not fit to be introduced to children.... (_seizing_ tyltyl's _hands_) but come along! they are beginning the banquet all over again.... it is the twelfth time since this morning. we are only waiting for you.... do you hear all the revellers calling and shouting for you?... i cannot introduce you to all of them, there are so many of them.... (_offering his arm to the two children_) allow me to lead you to the two seats of honour.... tyltyl no, thank you very much, mr. luxury.... i am so sorry.... i can't come for the moment.... we are in a great hurry, we are looking for the blue bird. you don't happen to know, i suppose, where he is hiding? the luxury the blue bird?... wait a bit.... yes, i remember.... some one was telling me about him the other day.... he is a bird, that is not good to eat, i believe.... at any rate, he has never figured on our table.... that means that we have a poor opinion of him. but don't trouble; we have much better things.... you shall share our life, you shall see all that we do.... tyltyl what do you do? the luxury why, we occupy ourselves incessantly in doing nothing.... we never have a moment's rest.... we have to drink, we have to eat, we have to sleep. it's most engrossing.... tyltyl is it amusing? the luxury why, yes.... it needs must be; it's all there is on this earth.... light do you think so?... the luxury (_pointing to_ light, _aside, to_ tyltyl) who is that ill-bred young person?... (_during the whole of the preceding conversation a crowd of_ luxuries _of the second order have been busying themselves with the_ dog, sugar _and_ bread _and have dragged them to the orgie_. tyltyl _suddenly sees them seated fraternally at the table with their hosts, eating, drinking and flinging themselves about wildly_.) tyltyl why, look, light!... they are sitting at the table!... light call them back, or this will have a bad end!... tyltyl tylô!... here, tylô!... come here at once, will you? do you hear?... and you too, sugar and bread, who told you to leave me?... what are you doing there, without permission? bread (_speaking with his mouth full_) can't you keep a civil tongue in your mouth?... tyltyl what? is bread daring to be impertinent?... why, what's come over you?... and you, tylô?... is that the way you obey? now then, come here, on your knees, on your knees!... and look sharp!... the dog (_muttering, from the end of the table_) when i'm eating, i'm at home to nobody and i hear nothing.... sugar (_honey-mouthed_) pardon us, we could not possibly leave such charming hosts so abruptly: they would be offended.... the luxury you see!... they are setting you an example.... come, we are waiting for you.... we won't hear of a refusal.... we shall have to resort to a gentle violence.... come, you luxuries, help me!... let us push them to the table by force, so that they may be happy in spite of themselves!... (_all the_ luxuries, _uttering cries of joy and skipping about as nimbly as they are able, drag the_ children, _who struggle, while_ fat laughter _seizes_ light _vigorously round the waist_.) light turn the diamond, it is time!... (tyltyl _obeys_ light's _order. forthwith, the stage is lit up with an ineffably pure, divinely roseate, harmonious and ethereal brightness. the heavy ornaments in the foreground, the thick red hangings become unfastened and disappear, revealing an immense and magnificent hall, a sort of cathedral of gladness and serenity, tall, innocent and almost transparent, whose endless fabric rests upon innumerous long and slender, limpid and blissful columns, suggesting the architecture of the palladian churches or certain drawings by carpaccio, notably the "presentation of the virgin" in the uffizi gallery. the table of the orgie melts away without leaving a trace; the velvets, the brocades, the garlands of the_ luxuries _rise before the luminous gust that invades the temple tear asunder and fall, together with the grinning masks, at the feet of the astounded revellers. these become visibly deflated, like burst bladders, exchange glances, blink their eyes in the unknown rays that hurt them; and, seeing themselves at last as they really are, that is to say, naked, hideous, flabby and lamentable, they begin to utter yells of shame and dismay, amid which those of_ fat laughter _are clearly distinguishable above all the rest. the_ luxury of understanding nothing _alone remains perfectly calm, while his friends rush about madly, trying to flee, to hide themselves in corners which they hope to find dark. but there is not a shadow left in the dazzling room. and so the majority, in their despair, decide to pass through the threatening curtain which, in an angle on the right, closes the vault of the cave of miseries. each time that one of them, in his panic, raises a skirt of the curtain, a storm of oaths, imprecations and maledictions is heard to issue from the hollow depths of the cave. as for the_ dog, bread _and_ sugar, _they hang their heads, join the group of the_ children _and hide behind them very sheepishly_.) tyltyl (_watching the_ luxuries _flying_) goodness, how ugly they are!... where are they going?... light i really believe that they have lost their heads.... they are going to take refuge with the miseries, where i very much fear that they will be kept for good.... tyltyl (_looking around him, wonder-struck_) oh, what a beautiful hall, what a beautiful hall!... where are we?... light we have not moved: it is your eyes that see differently.... we now behold the truth of things; and we shall perceive the soul of the joys that endure the brightness of the diamond. tyltyl how beautiful it is!... and what lovely weather!... it is just like midsummer.... hullo! it looks as though people were coming to talk to us.... (_the halls begin to fill with angel forms that seem to be emerging from a long slumber and glide harmoniously between the columns. they are clad in shimmering dresses, of soft and subtle shades; rose-awakening, water's-smile, amber-dew, blue-of-dawn, etc_.) light here come some amiable and curious joys who will direct us.... tyltyl do you know them?... light yes, i know them all; i often come to them, without their knowing who i am.... tyltyl oh, what a lot of them there are!... they are crowding from every side! light there were many more of them once. the luxuries have done them great harm. tyltyl no matter, there are a good few of them left.... light you will see plenty of others, as the influence of the diamond spreads through the halls.... there are many more happinesses on earth than people think; but the generality of men do not discover them.... tyltyl here are some little ones: let us run and meet them.... light it is unnecessary: those which interest us will pass this way. we have no time to make the acquaintance of all the rest.... (_a troop of little_ happinesses, _frisking and bursting with laughter, run up from the back of the halls and dance round the_ children _in a ring_.) tyltyl how pretty, how very pretty they are!... where do they come from, who are they?... light they are the children's happinesses.... tyltyl can one speak to them? light it would be no use. they sing, they dance, they laugh, but they do not talk yet.... tyltyl (_skipping about_) how do you do? how do you do?... oh, look at that fat one laughing!... what pretty cheeks they have, what pretty frocks they have!... are they all rich here?... light why, no, here, as everywhere, there are many more poor than rich.... tyltyl where are the poor ones?... light you can't distinguish them.... a child's happiness is always arrayed in all that is most beautiful in heaven and upon earth. tyltyl (_unable to restrain himself_) i should like to dance with them.... light it is absolutely impossible, we have no time.... i see that they have not the blue bird.... besides, they are in a hurry: you see, they have already passed.... they too have no time to waste, for childhood is very short.... (_another troop of_ happinesses, _a little taller than the last, rush into the hall, singing at the top of their voice, "there they are! there they are! they see us! they see us!" and, dance a merry fling around the_ children, _at the end of which the one who appears to be the chief of the little band goes up to_ tyltyl _with hand outstretched_.) the happiness how do you do, tyltyl?... tyltyl another one who knows me!... (_to_ light) i am getting known wherever i go!... (_to the_ happiness) who are you?... the happiness don't you recognise me?... i'll wager that you don't recognise any one here! tyltyl (_a little embarrassed_) why, no.... i don't know.... i don't remember seeing any of you. the happiness there, do you hear?... i was sure of it!... he has never seen us!... (_all the other_ happinesses _burst out laughing_) why, my dear tyltyl, we are the only things you do know!... we are always around you!... we eat, drink, wake up, breathe and live with you!... tyltyl oh, yes, just so, i know, i remember.... but i should like to know what your names are.... the happiness i can see that you know nothing.... i am the chief of the happinesses of your home; and all these are the other happinesses that live there.... tyltyl then there are happinesses in my home? (_all the_ happinesses _burst out laughing_.) the happiness you heard him!... are there happinesses in his home!... why, you little wretch, it is crammed with happinesses in every nook and cranny!... we laugh, we sing, we create enough joy to knock down the walls and lift the roof; but, do what we may, you see nothing and you hear nothing.... i hope that, in future, you will be a little more sensible.... meantime, you shall shake hands with the more noteworthy of us.... then, when you reach home again, you will recognise them more easily and, at the end of a fine day, you will know how to encourage them with a smile, to thank them with a pleasant word, for they really do all they can to make your life easy and delightful.... let me introduce myself first: the happiness of being well, at your service.... i am not the prettiest, but i am the most important. will you know me again?... this is the happiness of pure air, who is almost transparent.... here is the happiness of loving one's parents, who is clad in grey and always a little sad, because no one ever looks at him.... here are the happiness of the blue sky, who, of course, is dressed in blue, and the happiness of the forest, who, also of course, is clad in green: you will see him every time you go to the window.... here, again, is the good happiness of sunny hours, who is diamond-coloured, and this is the happiness of spring, who is bright emerald.... tyltyl and are you as fine as that every day? the happiness of being well why, yes, it is sunday every day, in every house, when people open their eyes.... and then, when evening comes, here is the happiness of the sunsets, who is grander than all the kings in the world and who is followed by the happiness of seeing the stars rise, who is gilded like a god of old.... then, when the weather breaks, here are the happiness of the rain, who is covered with pearls, and the happiness of the winter fire, who opens his beautiful purple mantle to frozen hands.... and i have not mentioned the best among us, because he is nearly a brother of the great limpid joys whom you will see presently: his name is the happiness of innocent thoughts, and he is the brightest of as all.... and then here are.... but really there are too many of them!... we should never have done; and i must first send word to the great joys, who are right at the back, near the gates of heaven, and who have not yet heard of your arrival.... i will send the happiness of running barefoot in the dew, who is the nimblest of us.... (_to the_ happiness of running barefoot in the dew, _who comes forward capering_) off you go!... light (_to_ tyltyl) in the meantime, you might enquire about the blue bird. it is just possible that the chief happiness of your home knows where he is.... tyltyl where is he?... the happiness he doesn't know where the blue bird is!... (_all the_ happinesses of the home _burst out laughing_.) tyltyl (_vexed_) no, i do not know.... there's nothing to laugh at.... (_fresh bursts of laughter_.) the happiness come, don't be angry... and let us be serious.... he doesn't know: well, what do you expect? he is no more absurd than the majority of men.... but little happiness of running barefoot in the dew has told the great joys and they are coming towards us.... (_tall and beautiful angelic figures, clad in shimmering dresses, come slowly forward_.) tyltyl how beautiful they are!... why are they not laughing?... are they not happy?... light it is not when one laughs that one is really happy.... tyltyl who are they?... the happiness they are the great joys.... tyltyl do you know their names?... the happiness of course; we often play with them.... here, first of all, before the others, is the great joy of being just, who smiles each time an injustice is repaired. i am too young: i have never seen her smile yet. behind her is the joy of being good, who is the happiest, but the saddest; and it is very difficult to keep her from going to the miseries, whom she would like to console; for, if she left us, we should be almost as miserable as the miseries themselves. on the right is the joy of fame, next to the joy of thinking. after her comes the joy of understanding, who is always looking for her brother, the luxury of understanding nothing.... tyltyl but i have seen her brother!... he went to the miseries with the big luxuries.... the happiness i was certain of it.... he has turned out badly; keeping evil company has corrupted him entirely.... but do not speak of it to his sister. she would want to go and look for him and we should lose one of our most beautiful joys.... here, among the greatest joys, is the joy of seeing what is beautiful, who daily adds a few rays to the light that reigns amongst us.... tyltyl and there, far away, far away, in the golden clouds, the one whom i can hardly see when i stand as high as i can on tip-toe?... the happiness that is the great joy of loving.... but, do what you will, you are ever so much too small to see her altogether.... tyltyl and over there, right at the back, those who are veiled and who do not come near?... the happiness those are the joys whom men do not yet know.... tyltyl what do the others want with us?... why are they standing aside?... the happiness it is before a new joy who is arriving, perhaps the purest that we have here.... tyltyl who is it? the happiness don't you recognise her yet?... but take a better look at her, open your two eyes down to the very heart of your soul!... she has seen you, she has seen you!... she runs up to you, holding out her arms!... it is your mother's joy, it is the peerless joy of maternal love!... (_the other_ joys, _who have run up from every side, acclaim the_ joy of maternal love _with their cheers and then fall back before her in silence_.) the joy of maternal love tyltyl! and mytyl!... what, do i find you here?... i never expected it!... i was very lonely at home; and here are you two climbing to that heaven where the souls of all mothers beam with joy!... but first kisses, heaps and heaps of kisses!... into my arms, the two of you; there is nothing on earth that gives greater happiness!... tyltyl, aren't you laughing?... nor you either, mytyl?... don't you know your mother's love when you see it?... why, look at me: are these not my eyes, my lips, my arms?... tyltyl yes, yes, i recognise them, but i did not know.... you are like mummy, but you are much prettier.... maternal love why, of course, i have stopped growing old.... and every day brings me fresh strength and youth and happiness.... each of your smiles makes me younger by a year.... at home, that does not show; but here everything is seen and it is the truth.... tyltyl (_wonder-struck, gazing at her and kissing her by turns_) and that beautiful dress of yours: what is it made of?... is it silk, silver or pearls?... maternal love no, it is made of kisses and caresses and loving looks.... each kiss you give me adds a ray of moon-light or sunshine to it.... tyltyl how funny, i should never have thought that you were so rich!... where used you to hide it?... was it in the cupboard of which daddy has the key?... maternal love no, no, i always wear it, but people do not see it, because people see nothing when their eyes are closed.... all mothers are rich when they love their children.... there are no poor mothers, no ugly ones, no old ones. their love is always the most beautiful of the joys.... and, when they seem most sad, it needs but a kiss which they receive or give to turn all their tears into stars in the depths of their eyes.... tyltyl (_looking at her with astonishment_) why, yes, it's true, your eyes are filled with stars.... and they are really your eyes, only they are much more beautiful.... and this is your hand too, with the little ring on it.... it even has the burn which you gave it one evening when lighting the lamp.... but it is much whiter; and how delicate the skin is!... there seems to be light flowing through it.... doesn't it do any work like the one at home?... maternal love why yes, it is the very same: did you never see that it becomes quite white and fills with light the moment it fondles you?... tyltyl it's wonderful, mummy: you have the same voice also; but you speak much better than you do at home.... maternal love at home, one has too much to do and there is no time.... but what one does not say one hears all the same.... now that you have seen me, will you know me again, in my torn dress, when you go back to the cottage tomorrow?... tyltyl i don't want to go back.... as you are here, i want to stay also, as long as you remain.... maternal love but it's just the same thing: i am down below, we are all down below.... you have come up here only to realise and to learn, once and for all, how to see me when you see me down below.... do you understand, tyltyl dear?... you believe yourself in heaven; but heaven is wherever you and i kiss each other.... there are not two mothers; and you have no other.... every child has only one; and it is always the same one and always the most beautiful; but you have to know her and to know how to look.... but how did you manage to come up here and to find a road for which men have been seeking ever since they began to dwell upon the earth?... tyltyl (_pointing to_ light, _who, discreetly, has drawn a little to one side_) she brought me.... maternal love who is she?... tyltyl light.... maternal love i have never seen her.... i was told that she was very fond of you both and very kind.... but why does she hide herself?... does she never show her face?... tyltyl oh, yes, but she is afraid that the joys might be frightened if they saw too clearly.... maternal love but doesn't she know that we are waiting only for her! (_calling the other_ great joys) come, come, sisters! come quickly, all of you! light has come to visit us at last!... (_a stir among the_ great joys, _who draw nearer, with cries of "light is here!... light! light!_...") the joy of understanding (_thrusting all the others aside, to come and embrace_ light) you are light and we did not know it!... and we have been waiting for you for years and years and years!... do you recognise me?... i am the joy of understanding, who have been seeking you for so long!... we are very happy, but we cannot see beyond ourselves.... the joy of being just (_embracing_ light _in her turn_) do you recognise me?... i am the joy of being just, who have besought you so long.... we are very happy, but we cannot see beyond our shadows. the joy of seeing what is beautiful (_also embracing_ light) do you recognise me?... i am the joy of seeing what is beautiful, who have loved you so dearly.... we are very happy, but we cannot see beyond our dreams.... the joy of understanding come, sister, come, do not keep us waiting any longer.... we are strong enough, we are pure enough.... put aside those veils which still conceal from us the last truths and the last happinesses.... see, all my sisters are kneeling at your feet.... you are our queen and our reward. light (_drawing her veils closer_) sisters, my beautiful sisters, i am obeying my master.... the hour is not yet come; it will strike, perhaps, and i shall return without fear and without shadow.... farewell, rise and let us kiss once more, like sisters lost and found, while waiting for the day that will soon appear.... maternal love (_embracing_ light) you have been very good to my poor little ones.... light i shall always be good to those who love one another.... the joy of understanding (_going up to_ light) let the last kiss be laid upon my forehead.... (_they exchange a long kiss; and, when they separate and raise their heads, tears are seen to stand in their eyes_.) tyltyl (_surprised_) why are you crying?... (_looking at the other_ joys) i say! you're crying too!... but why have all of you tears in your eyes?... light hush, dear.... curtain act v scene i.--_before the curtain_. _enter_ tyltyl, mytyl, light, _the_ dog, _the_ cat, bread, fire, sugar, water _and_ milk. light i have received a note from the fairy bérylune telling me that the blue bird is probably here. tyltyl where?... light here, in the graveyard behind that wall.... it appears that one of the dead in the graveyard is hiding it in his tomb.... we must find out which one it is.... we shall have to pass them under review.... tyltyl under review?... how is that done?... light it is very simple: at midnight, so as not to disturb them too greatly, you will turn the diamond. we shall see them come out of the ground; or else we shall see those who do not come out lying in their tombs.... tyltyl will they not be angry?... light not at all; they will not even know.... they do not like being disturbed, but, as it is their custom, in any case, to come out at midnight, that will not inconvenience them.... tyltyl why are bread, sugar and milk so pale and why do they say nothing?... milk (_staggering_) i feel i am going to turn.... light (_aside to tyltyl_) do not mind them.... they are afraid of the dead.... fire (_frisking about_) i'm not afraid of them!... i am used to burning them.... time was when i burnt them all; that was much more amusing than nowadays ... tyltyl and why is tylô trembling?... is he afraid, too?... the dog i?... i'm not trembling!... i am never afraid; but if you went away, i should go too.... tyltyl and has the cat nothing to say?... the cat (_mysteriously_) i know what's what.... tyltyl (_to light_) are you coming with us?... light no; it is better that i should remain at the gate of the graveyard with the things and the animals.... some of them would be too frightened and i fear that the others would misbehave.... fire, in particular, would want to burn the dead, as of old; and that is no longer done.... i shall leave you alone with mytyl.... tyltyl and may not tylô stay with us?... the dog yes, yes, i shall stay; i shall stay here i... i want to stay with my little god!... light it is impossible.... the fairy gave formal orders; besides, there is nothing to fear.... the dog very well, very well, it makes no difference. if they are vicious, my little god, all you have to do is this ... (_he whistles_) and you shall see.... it will be just as in the forest: wow! wow! wow!... light come, good-bye, dear children ... i shall not be far away.... (_she kisses the_ children.) those who love me and whom i love always find me again.... (_to the_ things _and the_ animals) this way, all of you.... (_she goes out with the_ things _and the_ animals. _the_ children _remain alone in the middle of the stage. the curtain, opens and discloses the next scene_.) scene 2.--_the graveyard_. _it is night. the moon is shining on a country graveyard.. numerous tombstones, grassy mounds, wooden crosses, stone slabs, etc_. tyltyl _and_ mytyl _are standing by a short stone pillar_. mytyl i am frightened!... tyltyl (_not too much at his ease_) i am never frightened.... mytyl i say, are the dead wicked?... tyltyl why, no, they're not alive!... mytyl have you ever seen one?... tyltyl yes, once, long ago, when i was very young.... mytyl what was it like, say?... tyltyl quite white, very still and very cold and it didn't talk.... mytyl are we going to see them, say?... tyltyl why, of course, light said so.... mytyl where are they?... tyltyl here, under the grass or under those big stones.... mytyl are they there all the year round?... tyltyl yes. mytyl (_pointing to the slabs_) are those the doors of their houses?... tyltyl yes. mytyl do they go out when it's fine?... tyltyl they can only go out at night.... mytyl why?... tyltyl because they are in their shirts.... mytyl do they go out also when it rains?... tyltyl when it rains, they stay at home.... mytyl is it nice in their homes, say?... tyltyl they say it's very cramped.... mytyl have they any little children?... tyltyl why, yes; they have all those that die.... mytyl and what do they live on?... tyltyl they eat roots.... mytyl shall we see them?... tyltyl of course; we see everything when i turn the diamond. mytyl and what will they say?... tyltyl they will say nothing, as they don't talk.... mytyl why don't they talk?... tyltyl because they have nothing to say.... mytyl why have they nothing to say?... tyltyl you're a nuisance.... (_a pause_) mytyl when will you turn the diamond? tyltyl you heard light say that i was to wait until midnight, because that disturbs them less.... mytyl why does that disturb them less?... tyltyl because that is when they go out to take the air.... mytyl is it not midnight yet?... tyltyl do you see the church clock?... mytyl yes, i can even see the small hand.... tyltyl well, midnight is just going to strike.... there!... do you hear?... (_the clock strikes twelve_) mytyl i want to go away!... tyltyl not now.... i am going to turn the diamond.... mytyl no, no!... don't!... i want to go away!... i am so frightened, little brother!... i am terribly frightened!... tyltyl but there is no danger.... mytyl i don't want to see the dead!... i don't want to see them!... tyltyl very well, you shall not see them; shut your eyes.... mytyl (_clinging to_ tyltyl's _clothes_) tyltyl, i can't stay!... no, i can't possibly!... they are going to come out of the ground!... tyltyl don't tremble like that.... they will only come out for a moment.... mytyl but you're trembling, too!... they will be awful!... tyltyl it is time, the hour is passing.... (tyltyl _turns the diamond. a terrifying minute of silence and motionlessness elapses, after which, slowly, the crosses totter, the mounds open, the slabs rise up...._) mytyl (_cowering against_ tyltyl) they are coming out!... they are there!... (_then, from all the gaping tombs, there rises gradually an efflorescence at first frail and timid, like steam; then white and virginal and more and more tufty, more and more tall and plentiful and marvellous. little by little, irresistibly, invading all things, it transforms the graveyard into a sort of fairy-like and nuptial garden, over which rise the first rays of the dawn. the dew glitters, the flowers open their blooms, the wind murmurs in the leaves, the bees hum, the birds wake and flood the air with the first raptures of their hymns to the sun and to life. stunned and dazzled,_ tyltyl _and_ mytyl, _holding each other by the hand, take a few steps among the flowers while they seek for the trace of the tombs_.) mytyl (_looking in the grass_) where are the dead?.... tyltyl (_looking also_) there are no dead.... curtain scene 3.--_the kingdom of the future_. _the immense halls of the azure palace, where the children wait that are yet to be born. infinite perspectives of sapphire columns supporting turquoise vaults. everything, from the light and the lapis-lazuli flagstones to the shimmering background into which the last arches run and disappear, everything, down to the smallest objects, is of an unreal, intense, fairy-like blue. only the plinths and capitals of the columns, the key-stones, a few seats and circular benches are of white marble or alabaster. to the right, between the columns, are great opalescent doors. these doors, which_ time _will throw back towards the end of the scene, open upon actual life and the quays of the dawn. everywhere, harmoniously peopling the hall, is a crowd of_ children _robed in long azure garments. some are playing, others strolling to and fro, others talking or dreaming; many are asleep, many also are working, between the colonnades, at future inventions; and their tools, their instruments, the apparatus which they are constructing, the plants, flowers and fruit which they are cultivating or plucking are of the same supernatural and luminous blue as the general atmosphere of the palace. figures of a taller stature, clad in a paler and more diaphanous azure, figures of a sovereign and silent beauty move among the_ children _and would seem to be angels. _enter on the left, as though by stealth, gliding between the columns in the foreground_, tyltyl, mytyl _and_ light. their arrival causes a certain movement among the_ blue children, _who come running up on every hand, form a group around the unwonted visitors and gaze upon them with curiosity_. mytyl where are sugar, the cat and bread?... light they cannot enter here; they would know the future and would not obey.... tyltyl and the dog?... light it is not well, either, that he should know what awaits him in the course of the ages....i have locked them all up in the vaults of the church.... tyltyl where are we?... light we are in the kingdom of the future, in the midst of the children who are not yet born. as the diamond allows us to see clearly in this region which is hidden from men, we shall very probably find the blue bird here.... tyltyl certainly the bird will be blue, since everything here is blue....(_looking all around him_.) heaven, how beautiful it all is!... light look at the children running up.... tyltyl are they angry?... light not at all....you can see, they are smiling, but they are surprised.... the blue children (_running up in ever-increasing numbers_) live children!...come and look at the little live children!... tyltyl why do they call us the little live children? light because they themselves are not alive yet.... tyltyl what are they doing, then?... light they are awaiting the hour of their birth.... tyltyl the hour of their birth?... light yes; it is from here that all the children come who are born upon our earth. each awaits his day.... when the fathers and mothers want children, the great doors which you see there, on the right, are opened and the little ones go down.... tyltyl what a, lot there are! what a lot there are!... light there are many more.... we do not see them all.... there are thirty thousand halls like this, all full of them.... just think, there are enough to last to the end of the world!... no one could count them.... tyltyl and those tall blue persons, who are they?... light no one exactly knows.... they are believed to be guardians.... i have heard that they will come upon earth after men.... but we are not allowed to ask them.... tyltyl why not?... light because it is the earth's secret.... tyltyl and may one talk to the others, the little ones?... light certainly; you must make friends.... look, there is one who is more curious than the rest.... go up to him, speak to him.... tyltyl what shall i say to him?... light whatever you like, as you would to a little playfellow.... tyltyl can i shake hands with him?... light of course, he won't hurt you.... but come, don't look so constrained.... i will leave you alone, you will be more at ease by yourselves.... besides, i want to speak to the tall blue person.... tyltyl (_going up to the_ blue child _and holding out his hand_) how do you do?... (_touching the_ child's _blue dress with his finger_.) what's that?... the child (_gravely touching_ tyltyl's _hat_) and that?... tyltyl that?... that is my hat.... have you no hat?... the child no; what is it for?... tyltyl it's to say how-do-you-do with.... and then for when it rains or when it's cold.... the child what does that mean, when it's cold?... tyltyl when you shiver like this: brrrr! brrrr!... when you blow into your hands and go like this with your arms.... (_he vigorously beats his arms across his chest_.) the child is it cold on earth?... tyltyl yes, sometimes, in the winter, when there is no fire.... the child why is there no fire?... tyltyl because it's expensive and it costs money to buy wood.... the child what is money?... tyltyl it's what you pay with.... the child oh.... tyltyl some people have money and others have none.... the child why not?... tyltyl because they are not rich.... are you rich?... how old are you?... the child i am going to be born soon.... i shall be born in twelve years.... is it nice to be born?... tyltyl oh, yes!... it's great fun!... the child how did you manage?... tyltyl i can't remember.... it is so long ago!... the child they say it's lovely, the earth and the live people!... tyltyl yes, it's not bad.... there are birds and cakes and toys.... some have them all; but those who have none can look at them.... the child they tell us that the mothers stand waiting at the door.... they are good, aren't they?... tyltyl oh, yes!... they are better than anything in the world!... and the grannies too; but they die too soon.... the child they die?... what is that?... tyltyl they go away one evening and do not come back.... the child why?... tyltyl how can one tell?... perhaps because they feel sad.... the child has yours gone?... tyltyl my grandmamma?... the child your mamma or your grandmamma, i don't know.... tyltyl oh, but it's not the same thing!... the grannies go first; that's sad enough.... mine was very kind to me.... the child what is the matter with your eyes?.... are they making pearls?... tyltyl no; it's not pearls.... the child what is it, then?... tyltyl it's nothing; it's all that blue, which dazzles me a little.... the child what is that called?... tyltyl what?... the child there, that, falling down.... tyltyl nothing, it is a little water.... the child does it come from the eyes?... tyltyl yes, sometimes, when one cries.... the child what does that mean, crying?... tyltyl i have not been crying; it is the fault of that blue... but if i had cried, it would be the same thing.... the child does one often cry?... tyltyl not little boys, but little girls do.... don't you cry here?... the child no; i don't know how.... tyltyl well, you will learn.... what are you playing with, those great blue wings?... the child these?... that's for the invention which i shall make on earth.... tyltyl what invention?... have you invented something?... the child why, yes; haven't you heard?... when i am on earth, i shall have to invent the thing that gives happiness.... tyltyl is it good to eat?... does it make a noise?... the child no; you hear nothing.... tyltyl that's a pity.... the child i work at it every day.... it is almost finished.... would you like to see it?... tyltyl very much.... where is it?... the child there, you can see it from here, between those two columns.... another blue child (_coming up to_ tyltyl _and plucking his sleeve_) would you like to see mine, say?... tyltyl yes, what is it?... the second child the thirty-three remedies for prolonging life.... there, in those blue phials.... a third child (_stepping out from the crowd_) i will show you a light which nobody knows of!... (_he lights himself up entirely with an extraordinary flame_.) it's rather curious, isn't it?... a fourth child (_pulling_ tyltyl's _arm_) do come and look at my machine which flies in the air like a bird without wings!... a fifth child no, no; mine first! it discovers the treasures hidden in the moon!... the blue children (_crowding round_ tyltyl _and_ mytyl _and all crying together_) no, no, come and see mine!... no, mine is much finer!... mine is a wonderful invention!... mine is made of sugar!... his is no good!... he stole the idea from me!... (_amid these disordered exclamations, the_ live children _are dragged towards the blue workshops, where each of the inventors sets his ideal machine going. there ensues a cerulean whirl of wheels, disks, flywheels, driving-wheels, pulleys, straps and strange and as yet unnamed objects shrouded in the bluey mists of the unreal. a crowd of odd and mysterious mechanisms dart forth and hover under the vaults or crawl at the foot of the columns, while_ children _unfold charts and plans, open books, uncover azure statues and bring enormous flowers and gigantic fruits that seem formed of sapphires and turquoises_.) a little blue child (_bending under the weight of some colossal blue daisies_) look at my flowers!... tyltyl what are they?... i don't know them.... the little blue child they are daisies!... tyltyl impossible!... they are as big as tables!... the little blue child and they smell so good!... tyltyl (_smelling them_) wonderful!... the little blue child they will grow like that when i am on earth.... tyltyl when will that be?... the little blue child in fifty-three years, four months and nine days.... (_two_ blue children _arrive, carrying, like a lustre hanging on a pole, an incredible bunch of grapes, each larger than a pear_.) one of the children (_carrying the grapes_) what do you say to my fruits?... tyltyl a bunch of pears!... the child no, they are grapes!... they will all be like that when i am thirty.... i have found the way.... another child (_staggering under a basket of blue apples the size of melons_) and mine!... look at my apples!... tyltyl but those are melons!... the child no, no!... they are my apples and they are not the finest at that!... they will all be alike when i am alive.... i have discovered the system!... another child (_wheeling a blue barrow with blue melons bigger than pumpkins_) what do you say to my little melons?... tyltyl but they are pumpkins!... the child with the melons when i come on earth, the melons will be splendid!... i shall be the gardener of the king of the three planets.... tyltyl the king of the three planets? the child with the melons the great king who for thirty-five years will bring happiness to the earth, mars and the moon.... you can see him from here.... tyltyl where is he?... the child with the melons there, the little boy sleeping at the foot of that column. tyltyl on the left?... the child with the melons no, on the right.... the one on the left is the child who will bring pure joy to the globe.... tyltyl how?... the child (_the one that first talked to_ tyltyl) by means of ideas which people have not yet had.... tyltyl and the other, that little fat one with his fingers to his nose, what will he do?... the child he is to discover the fire that will warm the earth when the sun is paler than now.... tyltyl and the two holding each other by the hand and always kissing; are they brother and sister?... the child no; they are very comical....they are the lovers.... tyltyl what is that?... the child i don't know.... time calls them that, to make fun of them.... they spend the day looking into each other's eyes, kissing and bidding each other farewell.... tyltyl why?... the child it seems that they will not be able to leave together... tyltyl and the little pink one, who looks so serious and is sucking his thumb, what is he?... the child it appears that he is to wipe out injustice from the earth.... tyltyl oh!... the child they say it's a tremendous work.... tyltyl and the little red-haired one, who walks as if he did not see where he was going, is he blind?... the child not yet; but he will become so....look at him well; it seems that he is to conquer death.... tyltyl what does that mean?... the child i don't exactly know; but they say it's a great thing.... tyltyl (_pointing to a crowd of_ children _sleeping at the foot of the columns, on the steps, the benches, etc_.) and all those asleep, what a number of them there are asleep!... do they do nothing?... the child they are thinking of something.... tyltyl of what?... the child they do not know yet; but they must take something with them to earth; we are not allowed to go from here empty-handed.... tyltyl who says so?... the child time, who stands at the door.... you will see when he opens it.... he is very tiresome.... a child (_running up from the back of the hall and elbowing his way through the crowd_) how are you, tyltyl?... tyltyl hullo!... how does he know my name?... the child (_who has just run up and who now kisses_ tyltyl _and_ mytyl _effusively_.) how are you?... all right?... come, give me a kiss, and you too, mytyl. it's not surprising that i should know your name, seeing that i shall be your brother.... they have only just told me that you were here.... i was right at the other end of the hall, packing up my ideas.... tell mummy that i am ready.... tyltyl what?... are you coming to us?... the child certainly, next year, on palm sunday.... don't tease me too much when i am little.... i am very glad to have kissed you both beforehand.... tell daddy to mend the cradle.... is it comfortable in our home?... tyltyl not bad.... and mummy is so kind!... the child and the food?... tyltyl that depends.... we even have cakes sometimes, don't we, mytyl?... mytyl on new year's day and the fourteenth of july.... mummy makes them.... tyltyl what have you got in that bag?... are you bringing us something?... the child i am bringing three illnesses: scarlatina, whooping-cough and measles.... tyltyl oh, that's all, is it?... and, after that, what will you do?... the child after that?... i shall leave you.... tyltyl it will hardly be worth while coming!... the child we can't pick and choose!... (_at that moment, a sort of prolonged, powerful, crystalline vibration is heard to rise and swell; it seems to emanate from the columns and the opal doors, which are irradiated by a brighter light than before_.) tyltyl what is that?... the child that's time!... he is going to open the gates!... (_a great change comes over the crowd of_ blue children, _most of them leave their machines and their labours, numbers of sleepers awake and all turn their eyes towards the opal doors and go nearer to them_.) light (_joining_ tyltyl) let us try to hide behind the columns.... it will not do for time to discover us.... tyltyl where does that noise come from?... a child it is the dawn rising.... this is the hour when the children who are to be born to-day go down to earth.... tyltyl how will they go down?... are there ladders?... the child you shall see.... time is drawing the bolts.... tyltyl who is time?... the child an old man who comes to call those who are going.... tyltyl is he wicked?... the child no; but he hears nothing.... beg as they may, if it's not their turn, he pushes back all those who try to go.... tyltyl are they glad to go?... the child we are sorry when we are left behind, but we are sad when we go.... there! there!... he is opening the doors!... (_the great opalescent doors turn slowly on their hinges. the sounds of the earth are heard like a distant music. a red and green light penetrates into the hall_; time, _a tall old man with a streaming beard, armed with his scythe and hourglass, appears upon the threshold; and the spectator perceives the extremity of the white and gold sails of a galley moored to a sort of quay, formed by the rosy mists of the dawn_.) time (_on the threshold_) are they ready whose hour has struck?... blue children (_elbowing their way and running up from all sides_) here we are!... here we are!... here we are!... time (_in a gruff voice to the_ children _defiling before him to go out_) one at a time!... once again, there are many more of you than are wanted!... it's always the same thing!... you can't deceive me!...(_pushing back a_ child.) it's not your turn!... go back and wait till to-morrow.... nor you either; go in and return in ten years.... a thirteenth shepherd?... there are only twelve wanted; there is no need for more; the days of theocritus and virgil are past.... more doctors?... there are too many already; they are grumbling about it on earth.... and where are the engineers?... they want an honest man, only one, as a phenomenon.... where is the honest man?... is it you?... (the child _nods yes_.) you appear to me to be a very poor specimen!... hallo, you, over there, not so fast, not so fast!... and you, what are you bringing?... nothing at all, empty-handed?... then you can't go through.... prepare something, a great crime, if you like, or a fine sickness, i don't care ... but you mast have something.... (_catching sight of a little_ child _whom the others are pushing forward, while he resists with all his strength_.) well, what's the matter with you?... you know that the hour has come.... they want a hero to fight against injustice; you're the one: you most start.... the blue children he doesn't want to, sir.... time what?... he doesn't want to?... where does the little monster think he is?... no objections, we have no time to spare.... the child (_who is being pushed_) no, no!...i don't want to go!... i would rather not be born!... i would rather stay here!... time that is not the question.... when the hour comes, it comes!... now then, quick, forward!... a child (_stepping forward_) oh, let me pass!... i will go and take his place!... they say that my parents are old and have been waiting for me so long!... time none of that!... you will start at your proper hour, at your proper time.... we should never be done if we listened to you.... one wants to go, another refuses; it's too soon or it's too late.... (_pushing back some_ children _who have encroached upon the threshold_.) not so near, you children!... back, you inquisitive ones!... those who are not starting have no business outside.... you are in a hurry now; later, when your turn comes, you will be frightened and hang back.... look, there are four who are trembling like leaves.... (_to a_ child _who, on the point of crossing the threshold, suddenly goes back_.) well, what is it?... what's the matter?... the child i have forgotten the box containing the two crimes which i shall have to commit.... another child and i the little pot with my idea for enlightening the crowd.... a third child i have forgotten the graft of my finest pear!... time run quick and fetch them!... we have only six hundred and twelve seconds left.... the galley of the dawn is already flapping her sails to show that she is waiting.... you will come too late and you won't be born!... come, quick, on board with you!... (_laying hold of a_ child _who tries to pass between his legs to reach the quay_.) oh, no, not you!... this is the third time you've tried to be born before your turn.... don't let me catch you at it again, or you can wait forever with my sister eternity; and you know that it's not amusing there!... but come, are we ready?... is every one at his post?... (_surveying the_ children _standing on the quay or already seated in the galley_.) there is still one missing.... it is no use his hiding, i see him in the crowd.... you can't deceive me!... come on, you, the little fellow whom they call the lover, say good-bye to your sweetheart.... (_the two_ children _who are called the lovers, fondly entwined, their faces livid with despair, go up to_ time _and kneel at his feet_.) the first child mr. time, let me stay behind with her!... the second child mr. time, let me go with him!... time impossible!... we have only three hundred and ninety-four seconds left.... the first child i would rather not be born!... time you cannot choose.... the second child (_beseechingly_) mr. time, i shall come too late!... the first child i shall be gone before she comes down!... the second child i shall never see him again!... the first child we shall be alone in the world!... time all this does not concern me.... address your entreaties to life.... i unite and part as i am told....(_seizing one of the_ children.) come!... the first child (_struggling_) no, no, no!... she, too!... the second child (_clinging to the clothes of the_ first) leave him with me!... leave him!... time come, come, he is not going to die, but to live!... (_dragging away the_ first child.) come along!... the second child (_stretching her arms out frantically to the_ child _that is being carried off_) a sign!... a sign!... tell me how to find you!... the first child i shall always love you!... the second child i shall be the saddest thing on earth!... you will know me by that!... (_she falls and remains stretched on the ground_.) time you would do much better to hope.... and now, that is all.... (_consulting his hour-glass_.) we have only sixty-three seconds left.... (_last and violent movements among the_ children _departing and remaining. they exchange hurried farewells_.) the blue children good-bye, pierre!... good-bye, jean!... have you all you want?... announce my idea!... have you got the new turnscrew?... mind you speak of my melons!... have you forgotten nothing?... try to know me again i... i shall find you!... don't lose your ideas!... don't lean too far into space!... send me your news!... they say one can't... oh, try, do try!... try to tell us if it's nice!... i will come to meet you i... i shall be born on a throne!... time (_shaking his keys and his scythe_) enough! enough!... the anchor's raised!... (_the sails of the galley pass and disappear. the voices of the_ children _in the galley are heard in the distance_: "the earth! the earth!... i can see it!... how beautiful it is!... how bright it is!... how big it is!"... _then, as though issuing from the depths of the abyss, an extremely distant song of gladness and expectation_.) tyltyl (_to_ light) what is that?... it is not they singing.... it sounds like other voices.... light yes, it is the song of the mothers coming out to meet them.... (_meanwhile_, time _closes the opalescent doors. he turns to take a last look at the hall and suddenly perceives_ tyltyl, mytyl _and_ light.) time (_dumbfoundered and furious_) what's that?... what are you doing here?... who are you?... why are you not blue?... how did you get in?... (_he comes forward, threatening them with his scythe_.) light (_to_ tyltyl) do not answer!... i have the blue bird.... he is hidden under my cloak.... let us escape.... turn the diamond, he will lose our traces.... (_they slip away on the left, between the columns in the foreground_.) curtain act vi scene i.--_the leave-taking_. _the stage represents a wall with a small door. it is the break of day_. (_enter_ tyltyl, mytyl, light, bread, water, sugar, fire _and_ milk) you would never guess where we are.... tyltyl well, no, light, because i don't know.... light don't you recognise that wall and that little door?... tyltyl it is a red wall and a little green door. light and doesn't that remind you of anything?... tyltyl it reminds me that time shewed us the door.... light how odd people are when they dream.... they do not recognise their own hands.... tyltyl who is dreaming?... am i?... light perhaps it's myself.... who can tell?... however, this wall contains a house which you have seen more than once since you were born.... tyltyl a house which i have seen more than once since i was born?... light why yes, sleepy-head!... it is the house which we left one evening, just a year ago, to a day.... tyltyl just a year ago?... why, then.... light come, come!... don't open great eyes like sapphire caves.... it's the dear old house of your father and mother.... tyltyl (_going up to the door_) but i think.... yes, really.... it seems to me.... this little door.... i recognise the wooden pin.... are they in there?... are we near mummy?... i want to go in at once.... i want to kiss her at once!... light one moment.... they are sound asleep; you must not wake them with a start.... besides, the door will not open till the hour strikes.... tyltyl what hour?... is there long to wait?... light alas, no!... a few poor minutes.... tyltyl aren't you glad to be back?... what is it, light?... you are quite pale, you look ill.... light it's nothing, child.... i feel a little sad, because i am leaving you.... tyltyl leaving us?... light i must.... i have nothing more to do here; the year is over, the fairy is coming back to ask you for the blue bird.... tyltyl but i haven't got the blue bird!... the one of the land of memory turned quite black, the one of the future turned quite pink, the night's are dead and i could not catch the one in the forest.... is it my fault if they change colour, or die, or escape?... will the fairy be angry and what will she say?... light we have done what we could.... it seems likely that the blue bird does not exist or that he changes colour when he is caged.... tyltyl where is the cage?... bread here, master.... it was entrusted to my diligent care during our long journey; to-day, now that my mission is drawing to an end, i restore it to your hands, untouched and carefully closed, as i received it.... (_like an orator making a speech_) and now, in the name of all, i crave permission to add a few words.... fire he has not been called upon to speak!... water order!... bread the malevolent interruptions of a contemptible enemy, of an envious rival.... fire an envious rival!... what would you be without me?... a lump of shapeless and indigestible dough.... water order!... fire i won't be shouted down by you! ... (_they threaten each other and are about to come to blows_.) light (_raising her wand_) enough!... bread the insults and the ridiculous pretensions of an element whose notorious misbehaviour and whose scandalous excesses drive the world to despair.... fire you fat pasty-face! bread (_raising his voice_) will not prevent me from doing my duty to the end.... i wish, therefore, in the name of all... fire not in mine!... i have a tongue of my own!... bread in the name of all and with a restrained but simple and deep emotion, to take leave of two distinguished children, whose exalted mission ends to-day.... when bidding them farewell, with all the grief and all the fondness which a mutual esteem.... tyltyl what?... you are bidding us farewell?... are you leaving us too?... bread alas, needs must, since the hour when men's eyes are to be opened has not yet come.... i am leaving you, it is true; but the separation will only be apparent, you will no longer hear me speak.... fire that will be no loss!... water order! silence!... fire i shall keep silence when you cease babbling in the kettles, the wells, the brooks, the waterfalls and the taps.... light (_threatening them with her wand_) that will do, do you hear?... you are all very quarrelsome; it is the coming separation that sets your nerves on edge like this.... bread (_with great dignity_) that does not apply to me.... i was saying, you will no longer hear me speak, no longer see me in my living form.... your eyes are about to close to the invisible life of the things; but i shall always be there. in the bread-pan, on the shelf, on the table, beside the soup, i who am, if i may say so, with water and fire, the most faithful companion, the oldest friend of man.... fire well, and what about me?... light come, the minutes are passing, the hour is at hand which will send us back into silence.... be quick and kiss the children.... fire (_rushing forward_) i first! i first!... (_violently kissing the_ children.) good-bye, tyltyl and mytyl!... good-bye, my darlings.... think of me if ever you want any one to set fire to anything.... mytyl oh! oh!... he's burning me!... tyltyl oh! oh!... he's scorched my nose!... light come, fire, moderate your transports.... remember you're not in your chimney.... water what an idiot!... bread what a vulgarian!... fire there, look; i will put my hands in my pockets.... but don't forget me.... i am the friend of man.... i shall always be there, in the hearth and in the oven; and i will come sometimes and put out my tongue for you when you are cold or sad.... i shall be warm in winter and roast chestnuts for you.... water (_approaching the_ children) i shall kiss you without hurting you, tenderly, my children.... fire take care, you'll get wet!... water i am loving and gentle; i am kind to human beings.... fire what about those you drown?... water love the wells, listen to the brooks.... i shall always be there.... fire she has flooded the whole place.... water when you sit down, in the evening, beside the springs--there is more than one here in the forest--try to understand what they are trying to say.... fire enough! enough!... i can't swim!... water i shall no longer be able to tell you as clearly as i do to-day that i love you; but you will not forget that that is what i am saying to you when you hear my voice.... alas!... i can say no more.... my tears choke me and prevent my speaking.... fire it doesn't sound like it!... water think of me when you see the water-bottle.... alas! i have to be silent there; but my thoughts will always be of you.... you will find me also in the ewer, the watering-can, the cistern and the tap.... milk (_approaching timidly_) and me in the milk-jug.... tyltyl what, you too, my dear milk, so shy and so good?... is everybody going?... sugar (_naturally mawkish and sanctimonious_) if you have a little corner left in your memory, remember sometimes that my presence was sweet to you.... that is all i have to say.... tears are not in harmony with my temperament and they hurt me terribly when they fall on my feet.... bread jesuit!... fire (_yelping_) sugar-plum! lollipop! caramel!... tyltyl but where are tylette and tylô gone to?... what are they doing?... (_the_ cat _is heard to utter shrill cries_.) mytyl (_alarmed_) it's tylette crying!... he is being hurt!... (_enter the_ cat, _running, his hair on end and dishevelled, his clothes torn, holding his handkerchief to his cheek, as though he had the toothache. he utters angry groans and is closely pursued by the_ dog, _who overwhelms him with bites, blows and kicks_.) the dog (_beating the_ cat) there!... have you had enough?... do you want any more?... there! there! there!... light, tyltyl and mytyl (_rushing forward to part them_) tylô!... are you mad?... well, i never!... down!... stop that, will you?... how dare you?... wait, wait!... (_they part the_ dog _and the_ cat _by main force_.) light what is it?... what has happened?... the cat (_blubbering and wiping his eyes_) it's the dog, mrs. light.... he insulted me, he put tin tacks in my food, he pulled my tail, he beat me; and i had done nothing, nothing, nothing at all!... the dog (_mimicking him_) nothing, nothing, nothing at all!... (_in an undertone, with a mocking grimace_) never mind, you've had some, you've had some and you're going to have some more!... mytyl (_pressing the_ cat _in her arms_) my poor tylette, where has he hurt you?... tell me.... i shall cry too.... light (_to the_ dog, _severely_) your conduct is all the more, unworthy since you have chosen for this disgraceful exhibition the already most painful moment when we are about to part from these poor children.... the dog (_suddenly sobered_) to part from these poor children?... light yes; the hour which you know of is at hand.... we are going to return to silence.... we shall no longer be able to speak to them.... the dog (_suddenly uttering real howls of despair and flinging himself upon the_ children, _whom he loads with violent and tumultuous caresses_.) no! no!... i refuse!... i refuse!... i shall always talk!... you will understand me now, will you not, my little god?... yes! yes! yes!... and we shall tell each other everything, everything, everything!... and i shall be very good.... and i shall learn to read and write and play dominoes!... and i shall always be very clean.... and i shall never steal anything in the kitchen again.... shall i do a wonderful trick for you?... would you like me to kiss the cat?... mytyl (_to the_ cat) and you, tylette?... have you nothing to say to us?... the cat (_in an affected and enigmatic tone_) i love you both as much as you deserve.... light now let me, in my turn, children, give you a last kiss.... tyltyl and mytyl (_hanging on to_ light's _dress_) no, no, no, light!... stay here with us!... daddy won't mind.... we will tell mummy how kind you have been.... light alas! i cannot!... this door is closed to us and i must leave you.... tyltyl where will you go all alone?... light not very far, my children; over there, to the land of the silence of things.... tyltyl no, no; i won't have you go.... we will go with you.... i shall tell mummy.... light do not cry, my dear little ones.... i have not a voice like water; i have only my brightness, which man does not understand.... but i watch over him to the end of his days.... never forget that i am speaking to you in every spreading moonbeam, in every twinkling star, in every dawn that rises, in every lamp that is lit, in every good and bright thought of your soul.... (_eight o'clock strikes behind the wall_.) listen!... the hour is striking!... good-bye!... the door is opening!... in with you, in with you!... (_she pushes the_ children _through the door, which has half-opened and which closes again behind them_. bread _wipes away a furtive tear_, sugar _and_ water, _etc., all in tears, flee precipitously and disappear in the wings to the right and left. the_ dog _howls behind the scenes. the stage remains empty for a moment and then the scenery representing the wall and the little door opens in the middle and reveals the last scene_.) scene 2.--_the awakening_. _the same setting as in_ act i, _but the objects, the walls and the atmosphere all appear incomparably and magically fresher, happier, more smiling. the daylight penetrates gaily through the chinks of the closed shutters. to the right, at the back_, tyltyl _and_ mytyl _lie sound asleep in their little beds. the_ dog, _the_ cat _and the_ things _are in the places which they occupied in_ act i, _before the arrival of the_ fairy. _enter_ mummy tyl mummy tyl (_in a cheerfully scolding voice_) up, come, get up, you little lazybones!... aren't you ashamed of yourselves?... it has struck eight and the sun is high above the trees!... lord, how they sleep, how they sleep!... (_she leans over and kisses the_ children.) they are quite rosy.... tyltyl smells of lavender and mytyl of lilies-of-the-valley.... (_kissing them again_) what sweet things children are!... still, they can't go on sleeping till midday.... i mustn't let them grow up idle.... and, besides, i have heard that it's not very healthy.... (_gently shaking_ tyltyl) wake up, wake up, tyltyl.... tyltyl (_waking up_) what?... light?... where is she?... no, no, don't go away.... mummy tyl light?... why, of course it's light... has been for ever so long.... it's as bright as noonday, though the shutters are closed.... wait a bit till i open them.... (_she pushes back the shutters and the dazzling daylight invades the room_.) there! see!... what's the matter with you?... you look quite blinded.... tyltyl (_rubbing his eyes_) mummy, mummy!... it's you!... mummy tyl why, of course, it's i.... who did you think it was?... tyltyl it's you.... yes, yes, it's you!.... mummy tyl yes, yes, it's i.... i haven't changed my face since last night.... why do you stare at me in that wonderstruck way?... is my nose turned upside down, by any chance?... tyltyl oh, how nice it is to see you again!... it's so long, so long ago!... i must kiss you at once.... again! again! again!... and how comfortable my bed is!... i am back at home!... mummy tyl what's the matter?... why don't you wake up?... don't tell me you're ill.... let me see, show me your tongue.... come, get up and dress.... tyltyl hullo, i've got my shirt on!... mummy tyl of course you have.... put on your breeches and your little jacket.... there they are, on the chair.... tyltyl is that what i did on the journey?... mummy tyl what journey?... tyltyl why, last year.... mummy tyl last year?... tyltyl why, yes!...at christmas, when i went away.... mummy tyl when you went away?... you haven't left the room.... i put you to bed last night, and here you are this morning.... have you dreamed all that?... tyltyl but you don't understand!... it was last year, when i went away with mytyl, the fairy, light--how nice light is!--bread, sugar, water, fire: they did nothing but quarrel!... you're not angry with me?... did you feel very sad?... and what did daddy say?... i could not refuse... i left a note to explain.... mummy tyl what are you talking about?... for sure, either you're ill or else you're still asleep.... (_she gives him a friendly shake_.) there, wake up.... there, is that better?... tyltyl but, mummy, i assure you.... it's you that's still asleep.... mummy tyl what! still asleep, am i?... why? i've been up since six o'clock.... i've finished all the cleaning and lit the fire.... tyltyl but ask mytyl if it's not true.... oh, we have had such adventures!... mummy tyl why mytyl?... what do you mean?... tyltyl she was with me.... we saw grandad and granny.... mummy tyl (_more and more bewildered_) grandad and granny?... tyltyl yes, in the land of memory.... it was on our way.... they are dead, but they are quite well.... granny made us a lovely plum-tart.... and then the little brothers--robert, jean and his top--and madeleine and pierrette and pauline and riquette, too.... mytyl riquette still goes about on all fours!... tyltyl and pauline still has a pimple on her nose.... mummy tyl have you found the key of the cupboard where daddy hides his brandy bottle?... tyltyl does daddy hide a brandy bottle?... mummy tyl certainly. one has to hide everything when one has little meddlesome good-for-nothings like you.... but come, out with it, confess that you took it.... i would rather it was that.... i sha'n't tell daddy.... i sha'n't beat you.... tyltyl but, mummy, i don't know where it is.... mummy tyl just walk in front of me, so that i may see if you can walk straight.... (tyltyl _does so_) no, it's not that.... dear heaven, what is the matter with them?... i shall lose them too, as i lost the others!... (_suddenly mad with alarm, she calls out_) daddy tyl!... come, quick! the children are ill!... (_enter_ daddy tyl, _very calmly, with an axe in his hand_.) daddy tyl what is it?... tyltyl and mytyl (_running up gaily to kiss their father_) hullo, daddy!... it's daddy!... good-morning, daddy!... have you had plenty of work this year?... daddy tyl well, what's the matter?... they don't look ill; they look very well.... mummy tyl (_weeping_) you can't trust their looks.... it will be as with the others.... they looked quite well also to the end; and then god took them.... i don't know what's the matter with them.... i put them to bed quite quietly last night; and this morning, when they woke up, everything was wrong.... they don't know what they're saying; they talk about a journey.... they have seen light and grandad and granny, who are dead, but who are quite well.... tyltyl but grandad still has his wooden leg.... mytyl and granny her rheumatics.... mummy tyl do you hear?... run and fetch the doctor!... daddy tyl why, no, no.... they are not dead yet.... come, let us look into this.... (_a knock at the front door_.) come in!... (_enter_ neighbour berlingot, _a little old woman resembling the_ fairy _in_ act i _and leaning on a stick_.) the neighbour good-morning and a merry christmas to you all!... tyltyl it's the fairy bérylune!... the neighbour i have come to ask for a bit of fire for my christmas stew.... it's very chilly this morning.... good-morning, children, how are you?... tyltyl fairy bérylune, i could not find the blue bird.... the neighbour what is he saying?... mummy tyl don't ask me, madame berlingot.... they don't know what they are saying.... they have been like that since they woke up.... they must have eaten something that wasn't good.... the neighbour why, tyltyl, don't you remember goody berlingot, your neighbour berlingot?... tyltyl why, yes, ma'am.... you are the fairy bérylune.... you're not angry with us?... the neighbour béry... what? goodness gracious me!... tyltyl bérylune. the neighbour berlingot, you mean berlingot.... tyltyl bérylune or berlingot, as you please, ma'am.... but mytyl knows.... mummy tyl that's the worst of it, that mytyl also.... daddy tyl pooh, pooh!... that will soon go; i will give them a smack or two.... the neighbour don't; it's not worth while.... i know all about it; it's only a little fit of dreaming.... they must have slept in the moonbeams.... my little girl, who is very ill, is often like that.... mummy tyl by the way, how is your little girl?... the neighbour only so-so.... she can't get up.... the doctor says that it's her nerves.... i know what would cure her, for all that. she was asking me for it only this morning, for her christmas box; it's a notion she has... mummy tyl yes, i know; it's tyltyl's bird.... well, tyltyl, aren't you going to give it at last to that poor little thing?... tyltyl what, mummy?... mummy tyl your bird.... it's no use to you.... you don't even look at it now.... and she has been dying to have it for ever so long!... tyltyl hullo, that's true, my bird!... where is he?... oh, there's the cage!... mytyl, do you see the cage?... it's the one which bread carried.... yes, yes, it's the same one, but there's only one bird in it.... has he eaten the other, i wonder?... hullo, why, he's blue!... but it's my turtle-dove!... but he's much bluer than when i went away!... why, that's the blue bird we were looking for!... we went so far and he was here all the time!... oh, but it's wonderful!... mytyl, do you see the bird? what would light say?... i will take down the cage.... (_he climbs on a chair and takes down the cage and carries it to the_ neighbour.) there, madame berlingot, there you are.... he's not quite blue yet, but that will come, you shall see!... take him off quick to your little girl.... the neighbour really?... do you mean it?... do you give it me like that, straight away and for nothing?... lord, how happy she will be!... (_kissing_ tyltyl) i must give you a kiss!... i fly!... i fly!... tyltyl yes, yes; be quick.... some of them change their colour.... the neighbour i will come back to tell you what she says.... (_she goes out_.) tyltyl (_after taking a long look around him_) daddy, mummy, what have you done to the house?... it's just as it was, but it's much prettier.... daddy tyl how do you mean, it's prettier?... tyltyl why, yes, everything has been painted and made to look new, everything is clean and polished.... it was not like that last year.... daddy tyl last year?... tyltyl (_going to the window_) and look at the forest!... how big and fine it is!... one would think it was new!... how happy i feel here!... (_going to the bread-pan and opening it_) where's bread?.... i say, the loaves are very quiet.... and then here's tylô!... hullo, tylô, tylô!... ah, you had a fine fight!... do you remember, in the forest?... mytyl and tylette.... he knows me, but he has stopped talking.... tyltyl mr. bread.... (_feeling his forehead_) hullo, the diamond's gone!... who's taken my little green hat?... never mind; i don't want it any more.... ah, fire!... he's a good one!... he crackles and laughs to make water angry.... (_running to the tap_) and water?... good-morning, water!... what does she say?... she still talks, but i don't understand her as well as i did.... mytyl i don't see sugar.... tyltyl lord, how happy i am, happy, happy, happy!... mytyl so am i, so am i!... mummy tyl what are you spinning round for like that?.... daddy tyl don't mind them and don't distress yourself.... they are playing at being happy.... tyltyl i liked light best of all.... where's her lamp?... can we light it?... (_looking round him again_.) goodness me, how lovely it all is and how glad i feel!... mummy tyl why?... tyltyl i don't know, mummy.... (_a knock at the front-door_.) daddy tyl come in, come in!... (_enter the_ neighbour, _holding by the hand a little girl of a fair and wonderful beauty, who carries_ tyltyl's _dove pressed in her arms_.) the neighbour do you see the miracle?... mummy tyl impossible!... can she walk?... the neighbour can she walk?... she can run, she can dance, she can fly!... when she saw the bird, she jumped, just like that, with one bound, to the window, to see by the light if it was really tyltyl's dove.... and then, whoosh!... out into the street, like an angel!... it was as much as i could do to keep pace with her.... tyltyl (_going up to her, wonderstruck_) oh, how like light she is!... mytyl she is much smaller.... tyltyl yes, indeed!... but she will grow bigger.... the neighbour what are they saying?... haven't they got over it yet?... mummy tyl they are better, they are mending.... it will be all right when they have had their breakfasts.... the neighbour (_pushing the_ little girl _into_ tyltyl's _arms_). come along, child, come and thank tyltyl.... (tyltyl, _suddenly frightened, takes a step back_.) mummy tyl well, tyltyl, what's the matter?.... are you afraid of the little girl?... come, give her a kiss, a good big kiss.... no, a better one than that.... you're not so shy as a rule!... another one!... but what's the matter with you?... you look as if you were going to cry.... (tyltyl, _after kissing the_ little girl _rather awkwardly, stands before her for a moment and the two children look at each other without speaking; then_ tyltyl _strokes the dove's head_.) tyltyl is he blue enough?... the little girl yes, i am so pleased with him.... tyltyl i have seen bluer ones.... but those which are quite blue, you know, do what you will, you can't catch them.... the little girl that doesn't matter; he's lovely.... tyltyl has he had anything to eat?... the little girl not yet.... what does he eat?... tyltyl anything: corn, bread, indian corn, grasshoppers.... the little girl how does he eat, say?... tyltyl with his beak. you'll see, i will show you.... (_he moves in order to take the bird from the_ little girl's _hands. she resists instinctively; and, taking advantage of the hesitation of their movements, the_ dove _escapes and flies away_.) the little girl (_with a cry of despair_) mother!... he is gone!... (_she bursts into sobs_.) tyltyl never mind.... don't cry.... i will catch him again.... (_stepping to the front of the stage and addressing the audience_.) if any of you should find him, would you be so very kind as to give him back to us?... we need him for our happiness, later on.... curtain proofreading team. the sources and analogues of 'a midsummer-night's dream' compiled by frank sidgwick [duffield & company crest] new york duffield & company london: chatto & windus 1908 * * * * * "combien de romans du jour et de gazettes ai-je fermés pour étudier plus longtemps ces admirables compositions, images de l'esprit, des moeurs et des croyances de nos ancêtres!" _paulin paris._ * * * * * contents introduction 1 § 1. the main (sentimental) plot 7 § 2. the grotesque plot 27 § 3. the fairy plot 33 oberon's vision 66 illustrative texts 69 notes 188 index 194 * * * * * the sources and analogues of "a midsummer-night's dream" a study such as the present one does not demand any elaborate investigation of the date or circumstances of the first production of the play, unless these throw light on the inquiry into its sources; but in any case it is always well to base a literary study on literary history. here it will suffice to say shortly that _a midsummer-night's dream_, first published in 1600, must have been acted before or during 1598, as it is definitely mentioned in mores' _palladic tamia_ of that year. a more exact determination of its date can only be derived from the internal evidence supplied by allusions in the text or by metrical and general style. such allusions as have been discovered--for example, that reference to "the death of learning," v. i. 52-3--form here as elsewhere a battle-ground for critics of all sorts, but do not really assist us to an answer. more trustworthy testimony, however, is afforded by the general character of the play, and by shakespeare's handling of his material; these considerations, combined with whatever other evidence is available, have caused the play to be assigned to the winter of 1594-5. so placed, it is the latest of the early comedies of shakespeare, who makes an advance on _the two gentlemen of verona,_ but has not yet attained the firmness of hand which fills the canvas of _the merchant of venice_ with so many well-delineated figures. once arrived at this conclusion, we need not let ourselves again be led away into vagueness or critical polemics by an attempt to find any aristocratic wedding which this masque-like play seems designed to celebrate; such theorising, however interesting in other ways, does not concern and will not avail us now. it is none the less of value to recognise at the outset that _a midsummer-night's dream_ is more of a masque than a drama--an entertainment rather than a play. the characters are mostly puppets, and scarcely any except bottom has the least psychological interest for the reader. probability is thrown to the winds; anachronism is rampant; classical figures are mixed with fairies and sixteenth-century warwickshire peasants. the main plot is sentimental, the secondary plot is sheer buffoonery; while the story; of titania's jealousy and oberon's method of curing it can scarcely be dignified by the title of plot at all. the threads which bind together these three tales, however ingeniously fastened, are fragile. the spirit of mischief puts a happy end to the differences of the four lovers, and by his transformation of bottom reconciles the fairy king and queen, while he incidentally goes near to spoiling the performance of the "crew of patches" at the nuptials of theseus by preventing due rehearsal of their interlude. it is perhaps a permissible fancy to convert theseus' words "the lunatic, the lover, and the poet," to illustrate the triple appeal made by the three ingredients the grotesque, the sentimental, and the fantastic. each part, of course, is coloured by the poet's genius, and the whole is devoted to the comic aspect of love, its eternal youth and endless caprice, laughing at laws, and laughed at by the secure. "what fools these mortals be!" is the comment of the immortal; the corollary, left unspoken by those outside the pale, being "what fools these lovers be!" the sources from which shakespeare drew the plots of his three dozen of plays are for the most part easily recognisable; and although in each case the material was altered to suit his requirements--_nihil tetigit quod non ornavit_--there is as a rule very little doubt as to the derivation. we can say with certainty that these nine plays were made out of stories from boccaccio, masuccio, bandello, ser giovanni, straparola, cinthio or belleforest; that those six were based on older plays, and another half-dozen drawn from holinshed; that chaucer, gower, lydgate, sidney, greene, and lodge provided other plots; and so forth, until we are left with _the tempest_, founded in part on an actual contemporary event, _love's labour's lost_, apparently his only original plot--if indeed it deserve the name--and finally our present subject _a midsummer-nights dream_. the problem--given the play--is to discover what parts of it shakespeare conveyed from elsewhere, and to investigate those sources as far as is compatible with the limits of this book. for this purpose, it is most convenient to adopt the above-mentioned division into three component plots or tales; and because these are rather loosely woven together, the characters in the play may be simultaneously divided thus:-1. theseus. the main (sentimental) plot of the four hippolyta. lovers at the court of theseus. egeus. philostrate. lysander. demetrius. helena. hermia. 2. bottom. the grotesque plot, with the interlude quince. of _pyramus and thisbe_. snug. flute. snout. starveling. 3. oberon. the fairy plot. titania. puck. fairies. it may be observed that for these three plots shakespeare draws respectively on literature, observation, and oral tradition; for we shall see, i think, that while there can be little doubt that he had been reading chaucer, north's plutarch and golding's ovid, not to mention other works, probably including some which are now lost, it is also impossible to avoid the conclusion that much if not all of his fairy-lore is derived from no literary source at all, but from the popular beliefs which must have been current in oral tradition in his youth. * * * * * § 1. the main (sentimental) plot of the four lovers and the court of theseus "and out of olde bokes, in good feith, cometh al this newe science that men lere." _chaucer_. * * * * i as the play opens with speeches of theseus and hippolyta, it is convenient to treat first of these two characters. mr. e.k. chambers has collected (in appendix d to his edition) nine passages from north's plutarch's _life of theseus_, of which shakespeare appears to have made direct use. for example, oberon's references to "perigenia," "aegles," "ariadne and antiopa" (ii. i. 79-80) are doubtless derived from north; and certainly the reference by theseus to his "kinsman hercules" (v. i. 47) is based on the following passage:- ... "they were near kinsmen, being cousins removed by the mother's side. for aethra was the daughter of pittheus, and alcmena (the mother of hercules) was the daughter of lysidice, the which was half-sister to pittheus, both children of pelops and of his wife hippodamia." in modern phraseology, theseus and hercules were thus second cousins. of the amazon queen north says:- "touching the voyage he [theseus] made by the sea maior, philochorus, and some other hold opinion, that he went thither with hercules against the amazons, and that to honour his valiantness, hercules gave him antiopa the amazon. but the more part of the other historiographers ... do write, that theseus went thither alone, after hercules' voyage, and that he took this amazon prisoner, which is likeliest to be true." at this point we should interpolate the reason why hercules went against the amazons. the ninth (as usually enumerated) of the twelve labours of hercules was to fetch away the girdle of the queen of the amazons, a gift from her father ares, the god of fighting. admete, the daughter of eurystheus (at whose bidding the twelve labours were performed) desired this girdle, and hercules was sent by her father to carry it off by force. the queen of the amazons was hippolyta, and she had a sister named antiopa. one story says that hercules slew hippolyta; another that hippolyta was enticed on board his ship by theseus; a third, as we have seen, that theseus married antiopa. it is not easy to choose incidents from these conflicting accounts so as to make a reasonable sequence; but, as north says, "we are not to marvel, if the history of things so ancient, be found so diversely written." shakespeare simply states that theseus "woo'd" hippolyta "with his sword." later in the play we learn that the fairy king and queen not only are acquainted with court-scandal, but are each involved with the past histories of theseus and hippolyta (ii. i. 70-80). apart from these incidents in theseus' life, chaucer supplies the dramatist with all he requires in the opening of _the knightes tale_, which we shall discuss in full shortly.[1] "whylom, as olde stories tellen us, ther was a duke that highte[2] theseus; of athenes he was lord and governour, and in his tyme swich a conquerour, that gretter was ther noon under the sonne. ful many a riche contree hadde he wonne; what with his wisdom and his chivalrye, he conquered al the regne[3] of femenye, that whylom was y-cleped[4] scithia; and weddede the quene ipolita, and broghte hir hoom with him in his contree with muchel glorie and greet solempnitee, and eek hir yonge suster emelye. and thus with victorie and with melodye lete i this noble duke to athenes ryde, and al his hoost, in armes, him besyde. and certes, if it nere[5] to long to here, i wolde han told yow fully the manere, how wonnen was the regne of femenye by theseus, and by his chivalrye; and of the grete bataille for the nones betwixen athenës and amazones, and how asseged[6] was ipolita, the faire hardy quene of scithia ..." egeus, whom shakespeare makes a courtier of theseus and father to hermia, is in the classical legend aegeus, father of theseus; both plutarch and chaucer so mention him. the name of philostrate also comes from chaucer, where, as we shall see, it is the name adopted by arcite when he returns to court in disguise, to become first "page of the chamber" to emelye, and thereafter chief squire to theseus. it is in this latter capacity that chaucer's "philostrate" is nearest to shakespeare's character, the master of the revels. of the four lovers, the names of lysander, demetrius, and helena, are of course classical; shakespeare would find lives of lysander and demetrius in north's plutarch. the name of hermia, who corresponds with emilia or emily of _the knightes tale_, as being the lady on whom the affections of the two young men are set, may have been taken from the legend of aristotle and hermia, referred to more than once by greene. the name cannot be called classical, and appears to be a mistranslation of hermias.[7] the story of palamon and arcite has not been traced beyond boccaccio, that fountain of romance, though he himself says the tale of "palemone and arcita" is "una antichissima storia." possibly the story was taken, as much of boccaccio's writing must have been taken, from tradition. palaemon is a classical name,[8] and arcite might be a corruption of archytas. boccaccio's _teseide_ (the story of theseus) which was written about 1344, and may have been first issued wholly or in part under the title of _amazonide_, is a poem in the vernacular consisting of twelve books and ten thousand lines in _ottava rima_.[9] chaucer, in the prologue to _the legend of good women_ (which is presumably earlier than the _canterbury tales_) states that he had already written " ... al the love of palamon and arcyte of thebes, thogh the story is knowen lyte.[10]" skeat says "some scraps are preserved in other poems" of chaucer; he instances (i) ten stanzas from this _palamon and arcite_ in a minor poem _anelida and arcite_, where chaucer refers to statius, _thebais_, xii. 519;[11] (ii) three stanzas in _trolius and crheyde_; and (iii) six stanzas in _the parlement of foules_, where the description of the temple of love is borrowed almost word for word from boccaccio's _teseide_.[12] finally, chaucer used _palamon and arcite_ as the basis of _the knightes tale_. by this time, while he retains what folk-lorists call the "story-radical," he has reduced boccaccio's epic to less than a quarter of its length, and improved it in details. it stands as the first of _the canterbury tales_. analysts of chaucer's _knightes tale_ old stories relate that once there was a duke theseus, lord of athens, a conqueror of many lands. his latest conquest was "femenye" (once called scythia), whose queen hippolyta he wedded and brought home, accompanied by her young sister emilia. now as he drew near to athens, a company of ladies met him in the way, and laid before him their complaint, to the effect that, their husbands having fallen at the siege of thebes, creon the tyrant of thebes would not let the bodies be buried or burned, but cast them on a heap and suffered the dogs to eat them. duke theseus, having sworn to avenge this wrong, sent hippolyta and emilia to athens, and rode to thebes, where in full battle he fought and slew creon, and razed the city. the due obsequies were then performed.[13] amongst the slain were found, half-dead, two young knights named palamon and arcite, whom the heralds recognised, from the cognisances on their armour, as of blood-royal, and born of two sisters. theseus sent them to athens to be held to ransom in prison perpetually, and himself returned home in triumph. so years and days passed, and palamon and arcite dwelt in durance in a tower; till on a morrow of may it befel that the fair and fresh emilia arose to do observance to may, and walked in the garden, gathering flowers and singing. now in a high chamber of the tower, which adjoined the garden-wall, palamon by leave of his gaoler was pacing to and fro and bewailing his lot, when he cast his eyes through the thick-barred window, and beheld emilia in the garden below; whereat he blenched, and cried out as though struck to the heart. arcite heard him, and, asking him why he so cried out, bade him suffer imprisonment in patience; but palamon replied that the cause of his crying out was the beauty of the lady in the garden. thereupon arcite spied out of the window at emilia, and was so struck by her fairness "that if that palamon was wounded sore, arcite is hurt as muche as he, or more." so strife began between the two. palamon said it were small honour for arcite to be false to his cousin and sworn brother, since each had taken an oath not to hinder the other in love; nay, as a knight arcite was bound to help him in his amour. but arcite replied that love knows no law; decrees of man are every day broken for love; moreover palamon and he were prisoners, and were like two dogs fighting for a bone which meantime a kite bears away. let each continue in his love, for in prison each must endure. now a duke name pirithous came to visit his friend theseus; who being also a friend to arcite begged theseus to let him go free out of prison, which theseus did. and arcite was set free without ransom, but on condition that his life should be forfeit if he ever set foot again in any domain of duke theseus. yet now arcite found himself in no better stead, being banished from the sight of his lady; and could even find it in his heart to envy palamon, who might still blissfully abide in prison--nay, not in prison, in paradise, where sometimes he might see her whom both loved. and on his part palamon was jealous of arcite, who might even now be calling together his kin in thebes to make onslaught on athens and win his lady emilia. "yow loveres axe i now this questioun, who hath the worse, arcite or palamoun?" now when arcite had for a year or two endured this torment, he dreamed one night that the god mercury appeared to him, and said to him, "to athens shalt thou wend." whereupon arcite started up, and saw in the mirror that his sufferings had so changed him that he might live in athens unknown. so he clad himself as a labourer, and went with one squire to athens, and offered his service at the court, where for a year or two he was page of the chamber to emilia, and passed under the name of philostrate. and in the course of time he was so honoured that theseus took notice of him, and made him squire of his own chamber, and maintained him nobly. meantime palamon had lain seven years in prison, when it befel on the third day of may (as the old books that tell this story say) that, aided by a friend, he broke prison, having given his gaoler to drink of drugged wine, and so fled the city, and lay hid in a grove. hither by chance came arcite to do observance to may; and first palamon heard him sing "wel-come be thou, faire fresshe may; i hope that i som grene gete may," and thereafter fall into a study, as lovers will, lamenting his hard fate that he should be passing under a false name, and daily be slain by the eyes of emilia. whereat palamon started up, and reproached him, and challenged him to fight; and arcite answered him no less boldly, saying he would bring him arms and weapons on the morrow, as well as meat and drink and bedding for the night. so on the morrow the two donned their harness, helping each other to arm, and then fell a-fighting, palamon like a wild lion, and arcite like a cruel tiger, till they were ankle-deep in blood. on the same day rode forth theseus with hippolyta and emilia to hunt the hart, and theseus was aware of the two knights fighting. he spurred his steed between them, and cried to them to hold their hands. and palamon told him who they were, and why they fought. theseus at first was angry, and condemned them both to death; but when the queen hippolyta and emilia and the ladies of their train pleaded for them, he relented, bethinking himself of what love is, for he himself had been a servant [lover] in his time; wherefore, at the request of the queen and emilia, he forgave them, if they would swear to do his country no harm, and be his friends. and when they had sworn, he reasoned with them, that each was worthy to wed emilia, but that both could not so do; therefore let each depart for a year, and gather to him a hundred knights, and then return to tourney in the lists for the hand of emilia. "who loketh lightly now but palamoun? who springeth up for joye but arcite?" and thanking him on their knees, they took their leave and rode away. royal were the lists which theseus made, a mile in circuit, and walled with stone. eastward and westward were marble gates, whereon were built temples of venus and mars, while in a turret on the north wall was a shrine of diana goddess of chastity. and each temple was nobly carven and wrought with statues and pictures. now the day of the tourney approached, and palamon and arcite returned each with a hundred knights. "to fighte for a lady, _ben'cite!_ it were a lusty sighte for to see." palamon brought with him ligurge king of thrace, and with arcite was emetreas, the king of india, each a giant in might. so on a sunday they all came to the city. and in the night, ere dawn, palamon arose and went to the temple of venus to pray that he might win emilia for his wife; and, as it seemed, in answer to his prayer, the statue of venus shook, and palamon held it for a sign that the boon he asked was granted. emilia meanwhile went to the temple of diana, and prayed to the goddess, that she might remain a virgin, and that the hearts of palamon and arcite might be turned from her; or, if she needs must wed one of the twain, let him be the one that most desired her. to her appeared the goddess diana, and told her that she must be wedded to one of the two, but she might not tell which that one should be. and arcite went to the temple of mars, and prayed for victory; whereat the door of the temple clattered, and the fires blazed up on the altar, while the hauberk on the god's statue rang, and arcite heard a murmur of "victory." so rejoicing thereat he returned home "as fayn as fowel is of the brighte sonne." thereafter in the heavens above strife began betwixt mars and venus, such that jupiter himself was troubled to quell it; till saturn (the father of venus) comforted his daughter with assurance that palamon should win his lady. that day was high festival in athens, and all monday they justed and feasted, but went betimes to rest that they might rise early to see the great fight. and on the morrow there were lords and knights and squires, armourers, yeomen and commoners, and steeds and palfreys, on every hand, and all was ready. now a herald proclaimed from a scaffold the will of duke theseus, decreeing the weapons with which the tourney should be fought, and the rules of the combat. then with trumpets and music, theseus and hippolyta and emilia in a noble procession took their places; and from the west gate under the temple of mars came arcite with a red banner, and from the east, under the temple of venus, palamon with a white banner. and the names of the two companies were recited, the heralds left pricking up and down, the trumpet and clarion sounded, and the just began. sore was the fight, and many were wounded and by the duke's proclamation removed from the fight; and many a time fought palamon and arcite together. but everything must have an end; emetreus gave palamon a wound; and though ligurge attempted his rescue, he was borne down; and though emetreus was thrust from his saddle by palamon, palamon was wounded, and had to give up the combat and the hope of winning emilia. and theseus cried to them that the tourney was finished, and that arcite should have the lady; whereat the rejoicing of the people was loud. but in heaven venus wept, so that her tears fell down into the lists; yet saturn promised that her sorrow should be eased soon. and in truth as arcite rode in triumph down the lists, looking up at emilia, pluto, at the bidding of saturn, sent from hell a fury, that started from the ground in front of arcite's horse, which shied and threw his rider; and arcite pitched on his head, and lay as though dead. they bore him to theseus' palace, cut his harness from off him, and laid him in a bed. theseus for three days entertained the knights of the tourney, and then all of them went their several ways. but arcite lay dying; no longer had nature any power; "and certeinly, ther nature wol nat wirche, far-wel, phisyk! go ber the man to chirche!" on his deathbed he called palamon and emilia to his side, and bade farewell to his heart's queen, commending palamon to her, "as in this world right now ne knowe i non so worthy to ben loved as palamon that serveth yow, and wol don al his lyf. and if that ever ye shul ben a wyf, forget nat palamon, the gentil man." and his speech failed him, and his strength went out of him: but he still kept his eyes fixed on his lady, and his last word was "mercy, emilye!" theseus gave arcite a costly funeral, and built his funeral pyre in the grove where palamon had heard him lament on the morning of may. and when by process of time the grief and mourning for arcite had ceased, theseus sent for palamon and emilia; and with wise words bidding them be merry after woe, gave emilia to palamon, who wedded her, and they lived in bliss and in richness and in health. "thus endeth palamon and emelye. and god save all this faire companye!" such is chaucer's tale of palamon and arcite. it was dramatised before shakespeare's day by richard edwardes in a play now lost. possibly the play of "palamon and arcite" four times recorded--in for different spellings--by henslowe in his _diary_[14] is edwardes' play, but as the latter was performed at oxford before queen elizabeth as early as 1566, it is at least equally possible that henslowe's play is another version. the complete chaucerian form of the story of palamon and arcite is dramatised in _the two noble kinsmen_, a play to which shakespeare undoubtedly[15] contributed. the changes made by the authors--fletcher and massinger or shakespeare, or all three--are little more than such limitations as are demanded by dramatic form; for instance, the kinsmen, when discovered fighting, are dismissed for a month to find three knights, instead of being given a year to find one hundred. chaucer's hint, that palamon was assisted to escape from prison by a friend, is developed by the dramatists to make the sub-plot of the gaoler's daughter. the character-drawing is far more subtle than the poet's; chaucer leaves the reader's sympathies equally divided, despite the fact that he says plainly that arcite was in the wrong, because he violated the compact of the two kinsmen to assist each other in love. we must now consider what justification there is for believing that the main plot of _a midsummer-night's dream_ was suggested by _the knightes tale_. firstly, as has already been pointed out, the nuptials of theseus form the beginning of both play and poem; though in the poem the actual ceremony has been performed, and it is his triumphant return to the city of athens that is interrupted by the widows' appeal for justice; and in the play the action passes in the three or four days before the marriage. secondly, the wedding-day is the first of may, and there are two references to that "observance of may"[16] which is given by chaucer as the reason both for emilia's walking in the garden and for arcite's seeking of the grove where palamon lay hid.[17] thirdly, it can hardly be doubted that shakespeare took the name of philostrate from chaucer; egeus he would find also in north's plutarch as the name of the father of theseus; and it is possible that chaucer's names for the champions, ligurge and emetreus, may have suggested lysander and demetrius. finally, there are two or three minor indications; lysander and demetrius fight, or attempt to fight, for helena, in the "wood near athens," just as palamon and arcite fight for emilia in the grove[18]; theseus is a keen huntsman both in the poem and in the play[19]; and he refers[20] to his conquest of thebes, which, as we have seen, is described in _the knightes tale_. apart from these details, i do not think shakespeare is indebted to chaucer. it is conceivable that the story of palamon and arcite affected, but did not supply, the plot of the four lovers in _a midsummer-night's dream_; but shakespeare has added a second woman. this completion of the antithesis is characteristic of his early work; with a happy ending in view, the characters must fall into pairs, whereas with palamon, arcite, and emilia, one of the men must be removed. there is nothing to prevent the supposition that shakespeare was acquainted from boyhood with chaucer's story--either in chaucerian form or possibly in the shape of a chap-book--and that he constructed a first draft of _the two noble kinsmen_ quite early in his career as a playwright, subsequently laying it aside as unsatisfactory, and, in his declining years, collaborating with another or others to produce the play on that theme. * * * * * § 2. the grotesque plot: bottom and the ass's head: with the interlude of _pyramus and thisbe_ "but, for i am a man noght textuel, i wol noght telle of textes never a del; i wol go to my tale."--_chaucer_. * * * * ii the second portion of our study will not detain us long, as there are no literary sources for the "rude mechanicals," and their interlude of pyramus and thisbe is derived from a well-known classical story. shakespeare draws them from life, and from his own observation of warwickshire rustics, as he drew the two gobbos, launce, christopher sly, and a host of minor characters. doubtless he had met many of the crew of patches, perhaps beneath the roof of "marian hacket, the fat ale-wife of wincot," where we may suppose him to have made merry with "stephen sly, and old john naps of greece, and peter turf, and henry pimpernell." bottom takes his name from the wooden reel or spool on which thread is wound; "bottom" simply meaning the base or foundation of the reel. the names of his comrades have no specific connection with the trades they ply; but "starveling" is appropriate by tradition for a tailor--it takes seven tailors to make a man. the episode of bottom's "translation," or transformation into an ass, may have been suggested to shakespeare by a passage in reginald scot's _discovery of witchcraft_ (1584)--a book with which he must have been acquainted, as we shall see in discussing the fairy-section of the play. scot mentions the supposed power of witches to change men into animals, and quotes (in order to discredit) some recorded instances. chief among these is the story[21] of an english sailor abroad, who got into the power of a witch and was transformed by her into an ass, so that when he attempted to rejoin his crew, he was beaten from the gangway with contempt. this will be found in the third chapter of scot's fifth book: _of a man turned into an asse, and returned againe into a man by one of bodin's witches: s. augustine's opinion thereof_. "bodin" is jean bodin, who wrote a book _de magorum daemonomania_ (1581; a french version was published in the previous year), and mentions this story (lib. 2, cap. vi.). according to scot, bodin takes the story "out of _m. mal._ [_malleus maleficarum_], which tale was delivered to _sprenger_ by a knight of the rhodes." scot mentions further the famous story of the _golden ass_ of apuleius[22]; a legend of the reappearance of one of the popes, a hundred years after his death, with an ass's head; and gives a charm to put an ass's head on a man.[23] from these instances a literary origin for bottom's transformation seems probable but shakespeare may himself have fallen in with a survival of the witch-superstition almost while writing these words i receive first-hand evidence that such a tradition is not yet extinct in welford-on-avon, a village, four miles from stratford, with which shakespeare must have been perfectly familiar. the witch, as usual, was an old woman, credited with the "evil eye" and the power of causing the death of cattle and farm-stock by "overlooking" them; and the native of welford, from whom the story was communicated to me, would be prepared to produce eye-witnesses of various transformations of the old woman into some kind of animal--transformations effected not only at welford, but even in the centre of stratford on market-day! shakespeare had probably met with the story of pyramus and thisbe in more than one form. golding's translation in 1575 of the story in ovid's _metamorphoses_[24] is reprinted in this book[25]; chaucer included the _legend of thisbe of babylon_ as the second story in the _legend of good women_; and there appears to have been also "a boke intituled perymus and thesbye," for which the stationers' register record the granting of a license in 1562. there is, too, a poem on the subject by i. thomson in robinson's _handeful of pleasant delites_ (1584). the _historia de piramo e tisbe_ was very early in print in italy, and continued to be popular in chap-book form until the nineteenth century at least. in his commentary on _a midsummer-night's dream_ in the larger temple shakespeare, professor gollancz points out the existence of a pyramus and thisbe play, discovered by him in a manuscript at the british museum.[26] this ms. is a cambridge commonplace book of about 1630, containing poems attributed to ben jonson, sir walter raleigh and others, though the greater portion of the contents appear to be topical verses and epigrams unsigned. amongst these is "tragaedia miserrima pyrami & thisbes fata enuncians. historia ex publio ovidio deprompta. authore n.r." in the margins are written corresponding passages in latin from ovid, whose story it follows closely. the play is in blank verse of a poor kind with occasional rhyming couplets. after a prologue begins "actus primus and ultimus"; there are only five scenes in all, and the whole is quite short. the characters consist of iphidius, father of pyramus; labetrus, father of thisbe; their children, the protagonists; their respective servants, straton and clitipho; and casina, "ancilla" or handmaid to thisbe. there is also "a raging liones from ye woods." the moral of the play, as stated by iphidius, is that "the erraticall motions in children's actions must to a regular form by parents be reduc'd." these lines, and others in the play, would gain by being "reduc'd to a regular form." * * * * * § 3. the fairy plot siècles charmants de féerie, vous avez pour moi mille attraits, que de fois dans le rêverie, mon coeur vous donne de regrets. tout ne fut alors que mensonge aimable; tout n'est plus que réalité; rien n'est si jolie que la fable, si triste que la verité! * * * * iii in _the midsummer-night's dream_, shakespeare presents a conception of fairy-land as original as that which owes its propagation to perrault and the other french collectors of fairy-tales; its merits as a popular delineation of the fairy-world are proved by the fact that it has obtained the sanction and approval of tradition, passing almost at once into an accepted literary convention; so that even to-day it is not easy to shake off the inherited impression that the fairies are only what shakespeare shows them to be. he did not, of course, invent them; he had doubtless both read of them and heard tales of them; but he invested them with a delicate and graceful fancy that has held the popular imagination ever since. thanks to him, the modern english conception of the fairies is different from the conceptions prevalent in other countries, and infinitely more picturesque and pleasant. as before, it will be convenient to deal first with the names of his characters. _oberon_ is the english transliteration of the french auberon in the romance of _huon of bordeaux_, and auberon is probably merely the french counterpart of alberich or albrich, a dwarf occurring in the german _nibelungenlied_ and other works. etymologically alberich is composed of _alb_ = elf and _rich_ = king. the name oberon appears first in english literature in lord berners' translation of _huon of bordeaux_ (c. 1534), and afterwards in spenser[27] and in robert greene's play _james iv_, which was acted in 1589.[28] but the king of the fairies in chaucer[29] is pluto, and the queen proserpine. _titania._ proserpine is the wife of pluto (in greek, form, persephone, wife of dis). in elizabethan times, campion's charming poem "hark, all you ladies that do sleep"[30] keeps the name of "the fairy-queen proserpina." shakespeare appears to have taken the name titania from ovid,[31] who uses it as an epithet of diana, as being the sister of sol or helios, the sun-god, a titan. scot, in his _discovery of witchcraft_,[32] gives diana as one of the names of the "lady of the fairies"; and james i, in his _demonology_ (1597) refers to a "fourth kind of sprites, which by the gentiles was called diana and her wandering court, and amongst us called the phairie." curiously enough in shakespeare's most famous description of the fairy queen, she is called queen mab;[33] this is said to be of celtic derivation. mercutio's catalogue of mab's attributes and functions corresponds closely with the description of robin goodfellow. _puck_ is strictly not a proper name; and in the quartos and folios of _a midsummer-night's dream_, puck, robin, and robin goodfellow are used indiscriminately. in no place in the text is he addressed as "puck"; it is always "robin"[34] (once[35] "goodfellow" is added). in the last lines of the play he twice refers to himself as "_an_ honest puck" and "_the_ puck," [36] showing that the word is originally a substantive. dr. j.a.h. murray has very kindly allowed the slips of the _new english dictionary_ which contain notes for the article 'puck' to be inspected; his treatment of the word will be awaited with much interest. the earliest and most important reference is to prof. a.s. napier's _old english glosses_ (1900), 191, where in a list of glosses of the eleventh century to aldhelm's _aenigmata_ occurs "larbula [i. e. larvula], _puca_." prof. napier notes that o.e. puca, "a goblin," whence n.e. _puck_, is a well authenticated word. dr. bradley suggests that the source might be a british word, from which the irish _púca_ would be borrowed; this word _pooka_, as well as the allied _poker_, has already been treated in the _n.e.d._ _puck_, _pouke_, we find in o.e. (old english miscellany, _e.e.t.s._, 76), in piers plowman, and surviving in spenser; but there are countless analogous forms: _puckle_, _pixy_, _pisgy_, in english, and perhaps (through welsh) _bug_, the old word for _bugbear_, _bogy_, _bogle_, etc.; _puki_ in icelandic; _pickel_ in german; and many more.[37] we may note here the euphemistic tendency to call powerful spirits by propitiatory names. just as the greeks called the furies "eumenides," the benevolent ones, so is robin called good-fellow; the ballad of _tam lin_[38] refers to them as "gude neighbours"; the gaels[39] term a fairy "a woman of peace"; and professor child points out the same fact in relation to the neo-greek nereids.[40] hence also "_sweet_ puck."[41] the names of the four attendant fairies, peaseblossom, cobweb, moth, and mustard-seed, are shakespeare's invention, chosen perhaps to typify grace, lightness, speed, and smallness. the _literary_ sources on which shakespeare, in writing of fairies, probably drew--or those, at least, on which he could have drawn--can be shortly stated. we have already mentioned scot's _discovery of witchcraft_ (1584); this was no doubt the chief source of information regarding puck or robin goodfellow, as well as of the fairies themselves. shakespeare was doubtless also familiar with the treatment accorded to the fairy-world by chaucer[42] and spenser[43] and with the many tales of supernatural beings in romances like _huon of bordeaux_ and others of the arthurian cycle. there is also a black-letter tract concerning robin goodfellow,[44] but no one has yet proved that this pamphlet was in print before 1628, the date of the earliest surviving edition. ultimately, however, this matters little, because the tract is evidently drawn largely from oral traditions about robin, and so has a source common with that of much of shakespeare's fairy-lore. minor allusions, chiefly, to robin goodfellow, he may have met with in various works[45] published before the assumed date of the play; but these, again, add nothing which shakespeare could not have learned just as well from the superstitions of his day. what these were, and how he handled them, we must now proceed to discuss. in approaching a subject such as fairy-lore, it is necessary to prepare the mind of the reader to go back to days not merely pre-christian but even pre-national. our fairies can no more justly be called english than can our popular poetry. folk-lore--the study of the traditional beliefs and customs of the common people--is a science invented centuries too late;[46] for lack of evidence, it is largely theoretical. but it teaches its students continually to look further afield, and to compare the tales, ballads, superstitions, rites, and mythologies of one country with those of another. the surprising results thus obtained must not make us think that one country has borrowed from another; we must throw our minds back to a common ancestry and common creeds. "the attempt to discriminate modern national characteristics in the older stratum of european folk-lore is not only idle but mischievous, because it is based upon the unscientific assumption that existing differences, which are the outcome of comparatively recent historical conditions, have always existed." these are the wise words of a sound folk-lorist,[47] and should be laid to heart by all who take up the study. we cannot begin to investigate the origins of the fairy superstition in the cradle of the world; we must be content to realise that there was a creed concerning supernatural beings common to all the european branches of the aryan peoples, greek, roman, celt or teuton. when thomas nashe wrote in 1594 of "the robbin-good-fellowes, elfes, fairies, hobgoblins of our latter age, which idolatrous former daies and the fantasticall world of greece ycleaped _fawnes_, _satyres_, _dryades_, and _hamadryades_," he spoke more truly than he knew.[48] first of all, let us consider the word _fairy_. strictly, this is a substantive meaning either "the land of the fays," or else "the fay-people" collectively; it is also used as an equivalent for "enchantment." it was originally, therefore, incorrect to speak of "_a_ fairy";[49] the singular term is "_a_ fay," as opposed to "_the_ fairy." _fay_ is derived, through french, from the low latin _fata_, misunderstood as a feminine singular; it is in fact the plural of _fatum_, and means "the fates." reversing the chronological order, let us proceed to compare the functions of these beings. the fates, whether the greek _moirae_ or the roman _parcae_, were three in number, and were variously conceived as goddesses of birth or of death; the elements of the primitive idea are, at least, comprised in the conception that they allotted man his fate; we may also note that the metaphor of _spinning_ was used in connection with their duties. leaving classical lands and times, we find in the tenth century, amongst the eddic lays of northern europe, the following passage:-"it was in the olden days ... when helgi the stout of heart was born of borghild, in braeholt. night lay over the house when the fates came to forecast the hero's life. they said that he should be called the most famous of kings and the best among princes. with power they twisted the strands of fate for borghild's son in braeholt...."[50] here the "fates" are the "norns" of the northern mythology. we find them practising the same functions again in twelfth century saxo grammaticus,[51] who calls them "three maidens"; their caprices are shown when two of them bestow good temper and beauty on fridleif's son olaf, and the third mars their gifts by endowing the boy with niggardliness. in commenting upon both the eddic lay and the danish historian, the editors remark that this point of the story--the bestowal of gifts at birth--survives in the _chanson de geste_ of ogier the dane,[52] whose relations with the fairy-world may be narrated shortly as follows.[53] at the birth of ogier the dane, five fairies promised him strength, bravery, success, beauty, and love; after them came morgan le fay, whose gift was that, after a glorious career, ogier should come to live with her at her castle of avalon. when the hero was over a hundred years of age, morgan caused him to be wrecked near avalon. in his wanderings he comes to an orchard, where he eats an apple. a beautiful lady approaches whom he mistakes for the virgin; but she tells him she is morgan le fay. she puts a ring on his finger and he becomes young; she puts a crown on his head, and he forgets the past. for two hundred years he lives in unearthly delights, and the years seem to him to be but twenty. he then returns to earth to champion christendom; but after triumphing over his foes he returns to avalon.[54] the tale of ogier was long popular in denmark--of which country he is the national hero--and also in france; and the notion of supernatural gifts at birth has obtained a very wide vogue. but ogier's story also exhibits another very popular piece of superstition--that of a journey to or a sojourn in the supernatural world.[55] our english parallel to ogier, as professor child points out,[56] is thomas of erceldoune. this leads us to the consideration of three english metrical romances, which in all probability are derived from french sources, containing accounts of the visits to fairy-land made by thomas of erceldoune, launfal, and orfeo. the first and last of these are also known in the form of ballads; whether these ballads derive directly from the romances, or may be supposed to have existed side by side with them in the fifteenth century, is a question which must not delay us here. the romances and the ballads may all have been known to shakespeare in book-form or in tradition. the romance of _thomas of erceldoune_ is a poem in three "fyttes" or sections, which is preserved wholly or in part in five manuscripts, of which the earliest may be dated about 1435. the poem tells us that thomas of erceldoune's prophetic power was a gift from the queen of elf-land, with whom he paid a visit to her realm. the first "fytte" is occupied in narrating his sojourn;[57] while the other two set forth the predictions with which the queen supplied him. the romance is probably of scottish origin, as the prophecies treat mainly of scottish history; but the first "fytte" (which alone concerns us here, and indeed appears to be separate in origin from the other two) refers to an "older story." this, professor child says, "was undoubtedly a romance which narrated the adventure of thomas with the elf queen _simply_, without specification of his prophecies." doubtless the older story was not originally attached to thomas of erceldoune, who, as "thomas rymour of ercildoune," is a historical character. he lived, as is proved by contemporary documents, in the thirteenth century, at ercildoune (earlstoun on the banks of the leader in berwickshire), and gained a reputation as a "rymour," _i.e._ poet and prophet--in which character he was venerated by the folk for centuries. but the rymour does not concern us; the tale of a mortal's visit to elf-land would have been told of some one, whether thomas or another; he was a prophet, and prophets needed explanation. his journal to fairy-land, as narrated in the fifteenth-century romance, survives in the well-known ballad of _thomas the rhymer_.[58] two points in romance and ballad may be noted. (i) in the romance the lady shows thomas four roads, leading respectively to heaven, paradise, purgatory, and hell, besides the fair castle of elf-land. the ballad is content with three roads, to heaven, hell, and elf-land. (ii) both in the romance and the ballad, _and also in ogier the dane_, the hero makes the same mistake, of supposing his supernatural visitor to be the virgin mary.[59] a curious point about the first "fytte" is that it opens (ll. 1-18) in the first person; at line 41 thomas is mentioned, and the poem continues in the third person to the end, with a single and sudden change to the first in line 208. i do not know whether any assumption as to the authorship of the romance can be based on such facts; the "i" question in early popular poetry forms an interesting study in itself.[60] the english romance of _sir launfal_, which survives in a manuscript[61] of the fifteenth century, is therein said to have been "made by thomas chestre"; but in fact it is chiefly a translation from marie de france's lay of _lanval_, dating from the middle of the thirteenth century. the translator, thomas chestre, has, however, taken incidents from other "lais" by marie de france, and enlarged the whole until it is some three hundred lines longer than the french original. shakespeare may have read the tale in print. _sir lambewell_ appears to have been printed about 1558,[62] and to have remained in circulation at least until 1575,[63] but no complete copy is now known. a single ms. version of 1650 survives, however, in the percy folio.[64] this is another translation from the same french original, but made by some one acquainted with thomas chestre's version. the story as told in the first of these manuscripts may be condensed as follows. launfal had been ten years a steward to king arthur before the king's marriage. he did not like guinevere, who gave him no gift at her wedding; so he asked leave of the king to go home and bury his father. he went to caerleon, with two knights given him by arthur, and sojourned with the mayor; but when his money was spent, he fell into debt, and his knights returned to arthur's court in rags; but at launfal's request, they gave out that he was faring well. one day launfal rode out in poor attire into the forest, and sat him under a tree to rest. after a while, two fair damsels, beautifully attired and bearing a gold basin and a silk towel, approached him, and bade him come speak with their lady, dame triamour, daughter to the king of olyroun, king of fairy. launfal was led to where the lady lay, and "all his love in her was light." on the morrow she promised him rich presents, and said she would come to him whenever he wished for her in a secret place; but he was never to boast of her love. her presents came to him at the mayor's house of caerleon, and he spent his riches charitably. the king, hearing of an exploit of launfal's, summoned him back to court. the queen tempted him, but he repulsed her by saying he loved a fairer woman; this of course lost him triamour. guinevere (by a trick common in romances) accused launfal to arthur; but he was saved from disgrace by the appearance of triamour, who then carried him off into fairy-land to olyroun. the romance of _sir orpheo_, a mediaeval version of the classical story of orpheus and eurydice, has come down to us in three manuscripts,[65] two of which are not quite complete, which are to be assigned to the fifteenth century at latest. as in the case of _launfal_, it is doubtless a translation from the french; but as there is no extant original, this can only be presumed. orpheus becomes orpheo or orfeo, and eurydice becomes erodys, heurodis, or meroudys; in the last the initial letter may be due to the _m_ in "dame," the word preceding it. the story is told as follows. in all the world there was no better harper than king orfeo [sir orpheo], and no fairer lady than dame meroudys. on a morning in the beginning of may, the queen went forth with her ladies to an orchard, and fell asleep under an "ympe"[66] tree till it was long past noon. when her ladies woke her, she cried aloud, tore her clothes, and disfigured herself with her nails. they sought assistance and put her to bed in her chamber, whither the king came to visit her, and ask her what might help her. she told him how in her sleep she had been bidden by a knight to come and speak with his lord the king; she refused, but the king came to her, with a hundred knights and a hundred ladies in white on white steeds, and his crown was all of precious stones. he bore her away to a fair palace, and showed her his possessions. then he took her back, but bade her be beneath the tree on the morrow, when she should go with them and stay with them for ever. king orfeo was greatly distressed, and none could advise him. on the morrow he took his queen and ten hundred knights to guard her beneath the ympe tree; but in vain, she was away with the fairy, and they knew not whither. king orfeo in grief called together his barons and knights and squires, and bade them obey his high steward as regent; he himself went forth barefoot and in poor attire into the wilderness, with naught but his harp. so for ten winters he abode in the forest and on the heath, in a hollow tree, or under leaves and grass, till his frame shrank and his beard grew long; and ever and anon, when the day was fair, he would play his harp, and the beasts of the forest and the birds on bush and briar would come about him to hearken. then on a hot day he saw the king of fairy and his retinue riding with hounds and blowing horns; and again he saw a great host of knights with drawn swords; and again he saw sixty ladies, gentle and gay, riding on palfreys and bearing hawks on their wrists. their falcons had good sport, and orfeo drew nigh to watch; and looking on the face of one of the ladies, he recognised meroudys. they gazed at each other speechless, and tears ran from her eyes; but the other ladies bore her away. the king followed them to a fair country where there was neither hill nor dale, and into a castle, gaining entrance as a minstrel. then he saw many men and women sleeping on every side, seemingly dead; among them he again beheld his wife. and he came before the king and queen of that realm, and harped so sweetly that the king promised him whatever he might ask. he asked for the fair dame meroudys; and he took her by the hand, and they fared homewards. in his own city he lodged awhile in poor quarters, and then went forth to play his harp; and meeting his steward, who knew the harp but not his master, told him he had found the harp ten winters ago, by the side of a man eaten by lions. this evil news caused the steward to swoon, whereupon king orfeo revealed himself, and sent for dame meroudys. she came in a triumphant procession; there was mirth and melody; and they were new-crowned king and queen. harpers of bretayne heard this tale and made the lay and called it after the king "that orfeo hight, as men well wote; good is the lay, sweet is the note!" the ballad which represents the débris of this romance has only been recovered in a single text, from the memory of an old man in unst, shetland, and it is incomplete in verse-form, though the reciter remembered the gist of the story. this version of the ballad is further complicated by the fact that the old man sang it to a refrain which appears to be unst pronunciation of danish--a startling instance of phonetic tradition. it is not, however, to be understood from this that it was impossible for shakespeare to have heard this ballad; english versions _may_ have been current in his time. but even so, the ballad would add nothing to the knowledge he might gain elsewhere; it is simply a short form of the romance altered by tradition.[67] there are half-a-dozen other english and scottish ballads concerning fairies, none of much importance touching our present theme. they may be best studied in child's collection, nos. 35-41, where under _tam lin_ he has put together the main features of fairy-lore revealed in traditional ballads.[68] one or two such points may be noted here. we have seen that ogier saw the supernatural lady after plucking and eating an apple from a tree. thomas of erceldoune, launfal, and meroudys, are sleeping or lying beneath a tree when they see their various visitors. tam lin in the ballad was taken by the fairies while sleeping under an apple tree. malory[69] tells us that lancelot went to sleep about noon (traditionally the dangerous hour) beneath an apple tree, and was bewitched by morgan le fay. in modern greek folk-lore, certain trees are said to be dangerous to lie under at noon, as the sleeper may be taken by the nereids, who correspond to our fairies. at certain intervals--every seven years, the ballads say--the fiend of hell takes a tithe from the fairies, usually preferring one who is fair and of good flesh and blood. hence in _thomas of erceldoune_,[70] the elf queen is anxious that he should leave her realm, because she thinks the foul fiend would choose him (ll. 219-224). the notion of the fairies' demand of a tithe of produce, agricultural or domestic, is parallel to this sacrifice.[71] a third point on which fairy-lore usually insists is that the steeds of the fairies shall be white; here _thomas of erceldoune_ is at variance with the other poems, the elf-queen's palfrey being a dapple-grey. it is curious to learn that this superstition still survives. "at that time there was a gentleman who had been taken by the fairies, and made an officer among them, and it was often people would see him and her riding on a white horse at dawn and in the evening."[72] it will have been observed that the tale of orfeo varies considerably from the classical tale of orpheus; but this is not surprising; no one can imagine that it comes direct from the classics. a french original is presumed; indeed, there are references in early "lais" to a "lai d'orphey," indicating the existence of a poem which was probably the original of our _king orfeo_. this original is presumed to have been a breton lay, one of the many that were popular in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, and the english version may have been taken from the supposed source through a french form. now, these breton lays were chiefly on celtic subjects, and placed their scenes in the celtic realms of great britain, little britain, ireland, or scotland. the bards of armorica doubtless picked up a good story wherever they could find it; and the classical story of orpheus and eurydice would appeal strongly to celts, who have always been famous for harping. but why should these early celtic singers have made such changes in the story, _unless they had a similar story of their own_ which was confused with it? the parallel story has been adduced by professor kittredge[73] from an irish epic tale, the wooing (or courtship) of etain. the portions of the story which concern us here follow. eochaid airemm, king of ireland, found him a wife in etain daughter of etar in the bay of cichmany, and with her mider of bri leith (a fairy chief) was in love. on a summer's day, as the king sat on the heights of tara beholding the plain of breg, a strange young warrior appeared, gave his name as mider, and challenged eochaid to a game of chess for a wager. many were the games they played, and at first eochaid won, and bade mider carry out certain tasks. but at last eochaid was defeated, and mider for his reward asked to be allowed to hold etain in his arms and kiss her. eochaid put him off for a month; at the end of which time he called together the armies of ireland, and took etain into the palace, and shut and locked the doors, and ringed the house with guards. yet at the appointed hour mider stood in their midst, fairer than ever; and he sang to etain:-"_o fair-haired woman, will you come with me into a marvellous land wherein is music, where heads are covered with primrose hair and bodies are white as snow? there is no "mine" or "thine" there; white are teeth, and black are eyebrows, and cheeks are the hue of the foxglove, and eyes the hue of blackbirds' eggs.... we see everything on every side, yet no man seeth us. though pleasant the plains of ireland, yet are they a wilderness for him who has known the great plain_." but etain would not go to him, before eochaid was willing to resign her. and the king would not, yet allowed mider to embrace her before him. mider took his weapons into his left hand, and etain with his right, and bore her away through the skylight. the guards outside beheld two swans flying, and they flew towards the elf-mound of femun, which is called the mound of the fair-haired women. for nine years eochaid waged war against mider, digging into the elf-mounds, until he hit upon the fairy-mansion; whereupon mider sent to the side of the palace sixty women, all exactly like etain. and first the king carried away the wrong woman, but when he returned to sack bri leith, etain made herself known to him, and he bore her back to the palace at tara. it is reasonable to suppose, then, that some armorican bard, hearing the classical tale of orpheus and eurydice, remembered the celtic legend of eochaid and etain, and grafted the one on the other. hades became bri leith, or the vaguely-defined beautiful unknown country; but the classical names displaced the celtic. the confusion, however, did not at once cease. in one of the mss. of _sir orfeo_ it is said that orfeo's father "was comen of king pluto, and his moder of king juno" --confusion worse confounded. moreover, as we have already seen, even chaucer called the fairy-king pluto and the queen proserpina. again, to hark back to the other romances, we have found the word _fay_ attached to the name of king arthur's sister morgan. nothing is more remarkably certain than the close and constant association in mediaeval lore of the fairies and the fairy-world with the arthurian cycle of romance;[74] king arthur's sister was morgan le fay, whose son by ogier was merlin; and the romance of _huon of bordeaux_, which relates these facts, though strictly belonging to the charlemagne cycle, contains the account of oberon's bequest of his realm to king arthur. chaucer, whatever other doubts he may have had, was convinced on this point:--[75] "in th' olde daiès of the king arthoure, of which that bretons speken gret honoure, al was this land fulfild of fayerye; the elfqueen with hir joly companye dauncèd ful ofte in many a grenè mede; this was the olde opinion as i rede." now the arthurian legends ultimately derive from celtic tales, which must be supposed to have travelled from wales into france by way of brittany--little britain, or armorica--in the eleventh and twelfth centuries; for there are welsh versions independent of the breton forms, though closely akin. students of early celtic literature have not as yet agreed about the historical relations between welsh and irish stories--whether the welsh imposed their mythology and heroic legends on the irish, or _vice versa_; but the general similarity between them is undeniable, and easily explicable by a common celtic source. everything, then, points to the celtic legends as the chief origin of the mediaeval fairy-lore; and the early celtic literature, although its study, complicated by an unfamiliar language, has only recently been undertaken scientifically, has already revealed an extremely rich and complete store of romance that extends over a thousand years. from manuscripts which are attributed to the twelfth century (and even so contain matter rightly belonging to the ninth or tenth), we can trace the development of a creed concerning supernatural beings through the succeeding centuries, down to a time at which the written account is displaced by recorded oral tradition. a race of beings, who must originally have fallen from the celtic olympus, continue to appear, with characteristics that remain the same in essence, and under a designation that may be heard in ireland today, through ten centuries of irish tradition and literature.[76] these people are called in irish mythology the _tuatha dé danann_, described from at latest 1100 a.d. as _aes sidhe_, "the folk of the [fairy-] hillock;" the name for fairies in ireland now is "the sidhe."[77] originally, it may be, the _aes sidhe_ were not identified with the _tuatha dé danann_; and before the twelfth century the sidhe were not associated with the celtic belief in "a beautiful country beyond the sea," a happy land called by various names--tir-nan-og (the land of youth), tir tairngire (the land of promise)--which has now become "fairy-land." in the earliest heroic legends the _tuatha dé danann_ assist or protect mortal champions, and fall in love with mortal men and maids; but with the spread of christianity (as might be expected) they lost many of their previous characteristics.[78] to look back for a moment, we must note that so far we have touched no belief later than the fifteenth century, and already we have seen enough blending of various superstitions and legends to give our fairies a very mixed ancestry. classical mythology, celtic heroic sagas and northern eddas in the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries, saxo the danish historian in the twelfth, and a series of romances, running through celtic-breton-french-english languages from the twelfth to fifteenth centuries--all combine to alter or add to the popular conception of fairies. celtic mider is of human stature, beautiful, powerful, dwelling beneath the earth; he attempts to carry off a mortal bride. teutonic alberich is a dwarf, presumably not handsome, but well disposed to mortals. but when we come to _huon of bordeaux_ we find oberon's characteristics are derived from varying sources. he himself describes[79] to huon, in a fantastic romance-style, which attempts to associate him with as many classic heroes as possible, his parentage and birth:-"i shall show thee true, it is julius caesar engendered me on a lady of the privy isle ... the which is now named chifalonny [cephalonia] ... after a seven year caesar passed by the sea as he went into thessaly whereas he fought with pompey; in his way he passed by chifalonny, where my mother fetched him, and he fell in love with her because she showed him that he should discomfit pompey, as he did." we are almost supplied with the date of oberon's birth. he proceeds to narrate how all the fairies but one were invited to his birth, and that one, in anger, said that when he was three years old he should cease to grow; however, she repented immediately and added that he should be "the fairest creature that nature ever formed." another fairy endowed him with the power of seeing into the minds of all men; and a third enabled him to go whither he would at a wish. "moreover, if i will have a castle or a palace at my own device, incontinent it shall be made, and as soon gone again if i list; and what meat or wine that i will wish for, i shall have it incontinent." elsewhere[80] in the romance his handsome equipment and dress are described; his gown, his bow, and above all his horn, "made by four ladies of the fairy," who endowed it with four gifts; it cured all diseases by its blast, it banished hunger and thirst, it brought joy to the heavy-hearted, and forced any one who heard to come at the wish of its owner. horns, in english folk-lore, appear to belong rather to elves than to fairies[81]--the elves that haunt hills, and are known all over europe; dwarfs, trolls, kobolds, pixies, and so forth. teutonic witches are called horn-blowers. again, the fairy-train or fairy-hunt is supposed to carry horns; we have seen it already in _sir orfeo_,[82] and in _thomas of erceldoune_,[83] the fairy-queen bears a horn about her neck. but this oberon of _huon of bordeaux_ is mortal, and is not pictured as being abnormal in stature, any more than mider. shakespeare's oberon and mider are invisible (or can make themselves so), both have supernatural powers, and both are immortal. the question of the _size_ conventionally attributed to the fairies is of importance, because it shows that a confusion existed between the fays of romance with the elves of folk-superstition. elves and their numerous counterparts in all european countries and elsewhere--we have just given a list of names which can easily be extended--are above all things _small_; they also are earth-dwellers, living in hills or underground chambers, and originally, perhaps, were supposed to be mischievous by nature. but even in shakespeare's day, it would be impossible to say that fairies were benevolent and elves malevolent; the two kinds and their respective characteristics were already confused. robin goodfellow, the puck, or hobgoblin, is however essentially mischievous. in a book contemporary with our play we find:-"think me to be one of those _familiares lares_ that were rather pleasantly disposed than endued with any hurtful influence, as hob thrust, robin goodfellow, and suchlike spirits, as they term them, of the buttery, famoused in every old wives' chronicle for their mad merry pranks."[84] but four years later, as we have seen,[85] nashe confounds elves with fairies in deriving all alike from fauns and dryads. robin is "mad-merry," "jocund and facetious," "a cozening idle friar or some such rogue" [in origin], and so forth--simply described by shakespeare as a "shrewd and knavish sprite." the forms of mischief in which he delights are described in _a midsummer-night's dream_, ii. i. 33-57, and all these "gests" may be found in the contemporary robin goodfellow literature;[86] though we have observed that some of the functions attributed to queen mab in mercutio's famous speech[87] belong rightly to robin.[88] thus we see--to take into consideration but a few points of the myth--that the fairy-superstition and the elf-superstition were melted together in the popular pre-shakespearean mind, and that shakespeare himself, making a new division of the characteristics of the two, yet re-welded the whole into one realm by putting the puck in subjection under the fairy king. the main characteristics of shakespeare's fairies, then, may be summarised shortly:--[89] they are a community under a king and queen, who hold a court; they are very small, light, swift, elemental; they share in the life of nature; they are fond of dancing and singing; they are invisible and immortal; they prefer night, and midnight is their favourite hour; they fall in love with mortals, steal babies and leave changelings, and usurp the function of hymen in blessing the marriage-bed. oberon, "king of shadows," can apparently see things hidden from puck.[90] titania, "a spirit of no common rate," is yet subject to passion and jealousy, and had a mortal friend, "a votaress of my order."[91] the fairy of folk-lore in shakespeare's day is nearly everything that the fairies of _a midsummer-night's dream_ are; we may possibly except their exiguity, their relations in love with mortals, and their hymeneal functions. his conception of their size as infinitesimal at least differs from that of the popular stories, where (as far as can be ascertained) they are shown to be about the size of mortal children. we may conclude these remarks with the modern irish-catholic theory of the origin of the fairies:- "when lucifer saw himself in the glass, he thought himself equal with god. then the lord threw him out of heaven, and all the angels that belonged to him. while he was 'chucking them out,' an archangel asked him to spare some of them, and those that were falling are in the air still, and have power to wreck ships, and to work evil in the world."[92] * * * * oberon's vision. _a midsummer-night's dream_, like too many other plays of shakespeare, has been unable to escape the inquisition of "deuteroscopists"--those who are always on the look-out for historical and other allusions. the dainty passage (ii. i. 148-174), in which oberon gives puck directions how and where to find the magic herb that works the transformations of love in the rest of the play, appears to contain a reference to elizabeth as "a fair vestal throned by the west" and "the imperial votaress." so much may be reasonably granted; but warburton in his edition proceeded to identify "the mermaid on a dolphin's back" with mary queen of scots, the dolphin of course being the dauphin, and so forth. this interpretation of the alleged secret allegory was displaced in 1843 by one rather more plausible--though still needlessly fantastic. _oberon's vision_, by the rev. n.j. halpin (shakespeare society, 1843) attempts to prove that in composing this passage shakespeare was referring to the earl of leicester's attempt to win elizabeth's hand, when she visited him at kenilworth in 1575; the mermaid, uttering dulcet and harmonious breath, so that the rude sea grows civil, and the stars that shot from their spheres, are explained, by parallel passages from contemporary accounts, as parts of the pageant or "princely pleasures" which formed the queen's entertainment. the earl was simultaneously intriguing with lettice, countess of essex, who ultimately became his wife; and it is she who, according to the rev. halpin, is intended by the "little western flower"; to him the passage means:- "cupid, on behalf of the earl of leicester, loosed an arrow at queen elizabeth; but the virgin queen's maidenhood was so unassailable that the bolt missed her, hitting the countess of essex, who succumbed." in other words, shakespeare mentions the queen only in order to point out her rival's success! it is as unnecessary to discuss the degrees of probability in halpin's identifications as it was for him to elaborate them. certainly it is likely that shakespeare intended a compliment to his queen; it is possible that the "mermaid on a dolphin's back" was a reminiscence of a pageant which he might have visited kenilworth at the age of eleven to see; and it may be true that he meant to hint at leicester. on the other hand, i think that another explanation is more obvious and more rational. shakespeare had to introduce into his play the magic herb which was to alter the loves of those into whose eyes it was squeezed. we may reasonably guess that he had read somewhere one of the many popular legends that explain why the violet is purple, why the rose is red, _etc._; there are some in ovid's _metamorphoses_[93] which shakespeare read in golding's translation. he saw an opportunity of paying a graceful compliment to elizabeth by saying that the magic flower, once white, had been empurpled by a shaft of cupid's drawn at the fair vestal and imperial votaress, who yet passed on untouched; "and maidens call it love-in-idleness" --a popular name for the common pansy. notes on the introduction [1] for _the knightes tale_, see prof. skeat's edition (modern spelling) in the "king's classics," and his excellent introduction. [2] was named [3] realm [4] called [5] were not [6] besieged [7] see mr. r.b. mckerrow's note on nashe's reference to the name in _have with you to saffron-walden_ (_works,_ iii. 111). [8] see statius, _thebais_, i, 13-14, etc. (chaucer refers to "stace of thebes," _knightes tale_, 1436.) athamas, having incurred the wrath of hera, was seized with madness, and slew his son learchus. his wife ino threw herself, with his other son melicertes, into the sea, and both were changed into sea-deities, ino becoming leucothea, and melicertes palaemon, whom the greeks held to be friendly to the shipwrecked. the romans identified him with portunus, the protector of harbours. [9] see skeat's _the knight's tale_, xi-xv. [10] little. [11] in this passage, statius describes the meeting between theseus, returning in triumph with hippolyta, and the widows of those slain at the siege of thebes, who complain that the tyrant creon will not permit their husbands' bodies to be either burned or buried. this episode, as we shall see, is the opening of the _knightes tale,_ and reappears in a modified form in _the two noble kinsmen._ [12] j. m. rigg's introduction to his translation of the _decameron_ (1903) [13] this opening, derived from statius (see note, p. 13), serves merely to introduce the main story, much in the same way as the theseus story in _a midsummer-night's dream_ is simply the "enveloping action" of the play. [14] w.w. greg's edition, i 19-20, ii. 168. henslowe's dates for the performances are 17 september, 16 and 27 october, and november, 1594. against the first entry are the much-discussed letters "ne," which appear to mark a new play. it will be seen that according to the theory that _a midsummer-night's dream_ belongs to the winter of 1594-5, this palamon and arcite play was performed immediately before. [15] professor gollancz considers that shakespeare had no hand in the play. [16] cf. i. i. 167 and iv. i. 129-30. [17] it is perhaps fantastic to interpret too literally arcite's song to may--"i hope that i som grene gete may"--but, however little of their primitive significance now remains, celebration of the rites of may is by no means extinct. see e.k. chambers, _the mediaeval stage_, i. 117: "their object is to secure the beneficent influence of the fertilization spirit by bringing the persons or places to be benefited into direct contact with the physical embodiment of that spirit." shakespeare's apparent confusion of a may-day with a mid-summer-night may seem pardonable to the folk-lorist in the light of the fact that various folk-festivals appear to take place indiscriminately on may-day or midsummer-day. see chambers, _op. cit._ i. 114, 118, 126. [18] cf. iii. ii. 331 and 401, _etc_. [19] cf. iv. i. 100-183. [20] in v. i. 51. [21] reprinted in this book, p. 135. [22] he might have added _lucius the ass_, a similar tale by lucian of samosata. [23] reprinted in this book, p. 139. [24] ovid, _met._ iv. 55, sqq. [25] see p. 73. [26] addl. ms. 15227, f. 56b. [27] _faerie queen,_ ii. i. 6, ii. x. 75. [28] see a.w. ward's _english dramatic literature_, i. 400, ii. 85. [29] _the marchantes tale_, 983 (skeat, e. 2227). [30] a.h. bullen's edition of campion (1903), p. 20. [31] _metamorphoses_, iii. 173. ovid, in the same work, uses "titania" also as an epithet of latona (vi. 346), pyrrha (i. 395), and circe (xiv. 382, 438). the fact that golding gives "phebe" as the translation of "titania" in iii. 173, is a strong piece of evidence that shakespeare sometimes at least read his ovid in the latin. [32] ed. brinsley nicholson, p. 32. book iii, chap. ii. (see p. 135.) [33] _romeo and juliet_, i. iv, 53, sqq. [34] in ii. i. 40, "sweet puck" is no more a proper name than "hobgoblin"; so also in l. 148 of the same scene. in neither case should the name be printed with a capital p. [35] ii. i. 34. [36] v. i. 418, 421. [37] wright, _english dialect dictionary_, s.v. puck, gives scotland, ireland, derby, worcester, shropshire, gloucester, sussex and hampshire as localities where the name is recorded. [38] text h in child's _ballads_, i. 352. [39] campbell's _popular tales of the west highlands_ (1890), vol. ii, tales xxv, xxvi, etc. [40] _ballads_, i. 314, and note. [41] _m.n.d._, ii. i. 40. (see note on p. 37.) [42] _the wyf of bathe's tale_, at the beginning; and elsewhere. [43] _the faerie queene,_ chiefly in book ii, where in canto x, stanzas 70-76, he gives a fictitious list of the generations of fairies; the first "elfe" was the image made by prometheus, to animate which he stole fire from heaven; the list ends with oberon, and tanaquil the faerie queen. [44] reprinted in this book, pp. 81-121. [45] mr. chambers, in his edition of the play, appendix a, § l8, gives (i) _tarlton's news out of purgatory_ (1590) (see p. 63), (ii) churchyard's _handfull of gladsome verses_ (1592) (see p. 141), (iii) nashe's _terrors of the night_ (1594). [46] the word _folk-lore_ has only been in existence sixty years, and the science is very little older; it was vaguely referred to as "popular antiquities" before that time. [47] alfred nutt, _the fairy mythology of shakespeare_ (1900), p. 24. this little book is instructive and valuable. [48] nashe's works, ed. r.b. mckerrow, i. 347. [49] gower, however, does so, as early as the fourteenth century; _confessio amantis_, ii. 371. [50] the opening of the beautiful _helgi and sigrun lay_ as translated by vigfusson and york powell in _corpus poeticum boreale_ (1883), i. 131; see also the editors' introduction, i. lxi, lxiv. [51] _danish history_, iii. 70, 77; vi. 181; cf. o. elton's translation (1894), pp. 84, 93, 223, and york powell's introduction thereto, lxiv. [52] "it is worth noting that the romance of olger the dane contains several late echoes of the old helgi myth. _a._ the visit of the fairies by night to the new-born child ... _e._ his return to earth after death or disappearance ... mark that holgi is the true old form ... the old hero holgi and the carling peer otgeir (eadgar) are distinct persons confused by later tradition."--_corpus poeticum boreale_, i. cxxx. "the _fates_ ... bestow endowments on the new-born child, as in the beautiful helge lay ... a point of the story which survives in the ogier of the chansons de geste, wherein eadgar (otkerus or otgerus) gets what belonged to holger (holge), the helga til of beowulf's lay."--saxo, _danish history_, lxiv. [53] cf. child's _ballads_, i. 319. [54] in _huon of bordeaux_ merlin comes with king arthur to oberon's death-bed; arthur introduces him as his nephew, the son of ogier the dane and "my sister morgan." [55] the mere mention of these subterranean explorations opens up an immense field of discussion and speculation that can here be only relegated to a note; we can treat at greater length none but those legends which bear directly on our subject. odysseus visited hades, aeneas descended to orcus or tartarus, and they have their counterparts in every land and every mythology. human aetiological tendencies supply explanations of any cavern or natural chasm--even a volcano must be the mouth of the entrance to hell or purgatory--from taenarus, where pluto carried off proserpine, and the sibyl's cavern, whence aeneas sought the lower regions, to the famous lough dearg in donegal, the entrance to "st. patrick's purgatory," and the peak cavern in derbyshire. the student may begin his researches with t. wright's _st. patrick's purgatory_ (1844). a very common tale in celtic literature is that of the visit of some hero to the underworld and his seizure of some gift of civilisation--just as prometheus stole fire from heaven. [56] _ballads_, loc. cit. [57] a version of fytte i will be found in this book, pp. 122-132. [58] see child's _ballads_, no. 37, thomas rymer, i. 317-329; also the romance, _thomas of erceldoune_ (e.e.t.s., 1875), where prof. j.a.h. murray prints all texts parallel, and adds a valuable introduction. [59] a similar episode survives in a breton folk-tale, cited by professor kittredge in child's _ballads_, iii. 504. in _huon of bordeaux_ (e.e.t.s. edition, p. 265), charlemagne mistakes oberon for god. [60] see gummere, _the popular ballad_ (1907), pp. 66-7. [61] cottonian, caligula a. ii. a later version is at the bodleian, ms. rawlinson c. 86, and a scottish version in cambridge university library, ms. kk. 5. 30. [62] it was licensed to john kynge the printer between 19 july 1557 and 9 july 1558. see arber, stationers' registers, i. 79. two fragments are in the bodleian; see hales and furnivall, _bishop percy's folio manuscript_ (1867), i. 521-535. [63] in this year it is mentioned, as having been amongst captain cox's books, in laneham's famous _letter_. see _shakespeare library_ reprint, p. xxx. [64] brit. mus. ms. addl. 27,879; see hales and furnivall, _bishop percy's folio manuscript_, i. 142. [65] harl. 3810 (british museum), printed by ritson in _ancient english metrical romances_ (1802) ii. 248; the auchinleck ms. (w. 4. 1, in the advocates' library, edinburgh), printed by d. laing in _ancient popular poetry of scotland_, iii; and ashmolean 61 (bodleian library, oxford), printed by halliwell in his _fairy mythology_, p. 36. the three are collated by o. zielke, _sir orfeo_ (breslau 1880), a fully annotated edition. the last is used here. [66] a grafted fruit tree; here probably an apple. [67] it may be seen in child's _ballads_, i. 215, with a full analysis of the romance, and in the present editor's _popular ballads of the olden time_, second series, p. 208. [68] _ballads_, i. 338-340; see also various "additions and corrections" in the later volumes, and s.v. _elf_, _elves_, etc. in the _index of matters and literature_. [69] _morte darthur_ (ed. sommer), vi. l. 3. [70] see below, p. 131. [71] see j.m. synge, _the aran islands_ (1907), p. 48, and a. nutt, _fairy mythology of shakespeare_, p. 22. [72] see synge, _op. cit._, p. 47. [73] see his admirable article on _sir orfeo_ in the _american journal of philology_, vii. 176-202. _the courtship of etain_ may be seen in english, translated from the two versions in egerton ms. 1782. and the "leabhar na h-uidhri"--an eleventh century irish ms.--in _heroic romances of ireland_, by a. h, leahy, i. 7-32. [74] a. nutt, _fairy mythology of shakespeare_, p. 12. [75] _wyf of bathe's tale_, 1-6. [76] see a. nutt, _op. cit._, pp. 16-17; and various authorities given by g.l. kittredge, _op. cit._, p. 196 notes. [77] pronounced _shee_. [78] mr. alfred nutt (_op. cit._, pp. 19-23) is at pains to show the close association of the _tuatha dé danann_ with ritual of an agricultural-sacrificial kind, in the aspect they have assumed--"fairies"--to the modern irish peasant. the sidhe have fallen from the high estate of the romantic and courtly wooers and warriors, as they must once have fallen from the celtic pantheon. [79] chap, xxv. (e.e.t.s. edition, 72). oberon recites his history again in chap. lxxxiv. (p. 264). [80] chap. xxii. (e.e.t.s. edition, p. 65, sqq.). [81] cf. child's _ballads_, nos. 2 (_the elfin knight_), 4 (_lady isabel and the elf-knight_), 41 (_hina etin_), and perhaps 35 (_allison gross_), with his note on the last, l. 314, referring to no. 36 (_the laily worm and the machrel of the sea_). [82] see above, p. 51. [83] see p. 124, l. 39. [84] _tarlton's news out of purgatory, published by robin goodfellow_ (1590), shakespeare society reprint, p. 55. [85] see above, p. 41. [86] see the extracts from scot's _discovery of witchcraft_ and the _robin goodfellow_ tract, pp. 133-140 and 81-121. [87] romeo and juliet, i. iv. 33-94. see above, p. 37. [88] had i been able to find a book, _veridica relatio de daemonio puck_, referred to in the article _diable_ in the _dictionnaire des sciences occultes_ (in migne, tome 48, vol. i., p. 475), it might be that it would prove of great interest. in any case this allusion (pointed out to me by mr. r.b. mckerrow) is an early instance of puck used as a proper name. [89] abbreviated from e.k. chambers' full analysis with references, _warwick shakespeare_ edition of _m.n.d._ pp. 142-4. [90] see ii. i. 155. [91] how far shakespeare associated his fairy queen titania with her nominal parent diana, is a question that would make matter for an elaborate study in mythology and mysticism, and might yet lead to no result. diana is luna in the heavens; lucina (the goddess of child-birth) and the huntress on earth; and hecate in the underworld, goddess of enchantments and nocturnal incantations, often also identified with proserpina. titania is a votaress of the moon; we have seen that fairies are intimately concerned with mortal babies, and that there is a fairy-hunt (see the quotation from james i's _demonology_, p. 37 above); and we have also noted the confusion of proserpina with the fairy-queen.--the _tuatha dé danann_ are said to be "the folk of _danu_"--who is danu? hecate was called trivia, on account of the above tripartition of diana; her statues were set up where three roads met, and the fairy-queen in _thomas the rhymer_ points out to him the three roads that lead to heaven, hell, and elf-land. speculation is easily led astray. [92] j.m. synge, _aran islands_, p. 10. [93] the metamorphosis of hyacinthus, for instance, bk. x, 162, sqq.; although there are others in the same book. see also the alteration in the mulberry caused by pyramus' blood (pp. 77-80). * * * * * illustrative texts texts the legend of pyramus and thisbe 73 robin good-fellow 81 thomas of erceldoune 122 scot's discovery of witchcraft 133 'strange farlies' 141 the mad merry pranks of robin 144 queen mab 149 the fairies' farewell 151 the fairy queen 155 nymphidia 158 * * * * * the legend of pyramus and thisbe from arthur golding's translation of ovid's _metamorphoses_ (1575), book iv, ff. 52-3. within the town (of whose huge walls so monstrous high and thick, the fame is given semiramis for making them of brick) dwelt hard together two young folk, in houses joined so near, that under all one roof well nigh both twain conveyéd were. the name of him was pyramus, and thisbe call'd was she, so fair a man in all the east was none alive as he. nor ne'er a woman, maid, nor wife in beauty like to her. this neighbourhood bred acquaintance first, this neighbourhood first did stir the secret sparks: this neighbourhood first an entrance in did show for love, to come to that to which it afterward did grow. and if that right had taken place they had been man and wife, but still their parents went about to let[1] which (for their life) they could not let. for both their hearts with equal flame did burn. no man was privy to their thoughts. and for to serve their turn, instead of talk they uséd signs: the closelier they suppressed the fire of love, the fiercer still it ragéd in their breast. the wall that parted house from house had riven therein a cranny, which shrunk at making of the wall: this fault not marked of any of many hundred years before (what doth not love espy?) these lovers first of all found out, and made a way whereby to talk together secretly, and through the same did go their loving whisp'rings very light and safely to and fro. now as at one side pyramus, and thisbe on the tother stood often drawing one of them the pleasant breath from other: o spiteful wall (said they) why dost thou part us lovers thus? what matter were it if that thou permitted both of us in arms each other to embrace? or if thou think that this were over-much, yet mightest thou at least make room to kiss. and yet thou shalt not find us churls: we think ourselves in debt for the same piece of courtesy, in vouching safe[2] to let our sayings to our friendly ears thus freely come and go. thus having where they stood in vain complainéd of their woe, when night drew near they bade adieu, and each gave kisses sweet unto the parget[3] on their side the which did never meet. next morning with her cheerful light had driven the stars aside, and phoebus with his burning beams the dewy grass had dried, these lovers at their wonted place by fore-appointment met, where after much complaint and moan they covenanted to get away from such as watchéd them, and in the evening late to steal out of their fathers' house and eke the city gate. and to th' intent that in the fields they strayed not up and down, they did agree at ninus' tomb to meet without the town, and tarry underneath a tree that by the same did grow; which was a fair high mulberry with fruit as white as snow, hard by a cool and trickling spring. this bargain pleased them both, and so daylight (which to their thought away but slowly go'th) did in the ocean fall to rest, and night from thence doth rise. as soon as darkness once was come, straight thisbe did devise a shift to wind her out of doors, that none that were within perceivéd her; and muffling her with clothes about her chin, that no man might discern her face, to ninus' tomb she came unto the tree, and set her down there underneath the same. love made her bold. but see the chance, there comes besmeared with blood about the chaps, a lioness all foaming from the wood, from slaughter lately made of kine to staunch her bloody thirst with water of the foresaid spring. whom thisbe, spying first afar by moonlight, thereupon with fearful steps gan fly and in a dark and irksome cave did hide herself thereby. and as she fled away for haste she let her mantle fall, the which for fear she left behind not looking back at all. now when the cruel lioness her thirst had staunchéd well, in going to the wood she found the slender weed that fell from thisbe, which with bloody teeth in pieces she did tear. the night was somewhat further spent ere pyramus came there. who seeing in this subtle sand the print of lion's paw, waxed pale for fear. but when that he the bloody mantle saw all rent and torn; one night (he said) shall lovers two confound, of which long life deservèd she of all that live on ground. my soul deserves of this mischance the peril for to bear. i, wretch, have been the death of thee, which to this place of fear did cause thee in the night to come, and came not here before. my wicked limbs and wretched guts with cruel teeth therefore devour ye, o ye lions all that in this rock do dwell. but cowards use to wish for death. the slender weed that fell from thisbe up he takes, and straight doth bear it to the tree, which was appointed erst the place of meeting for to be. and when he had bewept and kissed the garment which he knew, receive thou my blood too (quoth he), and therewithal he drew his sword, the which among his guts he thrust, and by and by did draw it from the bleeding wound, beginning for to die, and cast himself upon his back. the blood did spin on high as when a conduit pipe is cracked, the water bursting out doth shoot itself a great way off, and pierce the air about. the leaves that were upon the tree besprinkled with his blood were dyéd black. the root also, bestained as it stood a deep dark purple colour, straight upon the berries cast, anon scarce ridded of her fear with which she was aghast, for doubt of disappointing him comes thisbe forth in haste, and for her lover looks about, rejoicing for to tell how hardly she had 'scaped that night the danger that befell. and as she knew right well the place and fashion of the tree (as which she saw so late before) even so when she did see the colour of the berries turned, she was uncertain whether it were the tree at which they both agreed to meet together. while in this doubtful stound[4] she stood, she cast her eye aside, and there beweltered in his blood her lover she espied lie sprawling with his dying limbs; at which she started back, and lookéd pale as any box; a shuddering through her strack, even like the sea which suddenly with whissing noise doth move, when with a little blast of wind it is but touched above. but when approaching nearer him she knew it was her love, she beat her breast, she shriekéd out, she tare her golden hairs, and taking him between her arms did wash his wounds with tears; she meint[5] her weeping with his blood, and kissing all his face (which now became as cold as ice) she cried in woeful case: alas! what chance, my pyramus hath parted thee and me? make answer, o my pyramus: it is thy thisbe, even she whom thou dost love most heartily that speaketh unto thee: give ear and raise thy heavy head. he, hearing thisbe's name, lift up his dying eyes, and, having seen her, closed the same. but when she knew her mantle there, and saw his scabbard lie without the sword: unhappy man, thy love had made thee die; thy love (she said) hath made thee slay thyself. this hand of mine is strong enough to do the like. my love no less than thine shall give me force to work my wound. i will pursue thee dead, and, wretched woman as i am, it shall of me be said, that like as of thy death i was the only cause and blame, so am i thy companion eke and partner in the same. for death which only could, alas! asunder part us twain, shall never so dissever us but we will meet again. and you the parents of us both, most wretched folk alive, let this request that i shall make in both our names belyve[6] entreat you to permit that we, whom chaste and steadfast love, and whom even death hath joined in one, may, as it doth behove, in one grave be together laid. and thou unhappy tree, which shroudest now the corse of one, and shalt anon through me shroud two, of this same slaughter hold the sicker[7] signs for ay black be the colour of thy fruit and mourning-like alway, such as the murder of us twain may evermore bewray. this said, she took the sword, yet warm with slaughter of her love, and setting it beneath her breast did to the heart it shove. her prayer with the gods and with their parents took effect, for when the fruit is throughly ripe, the berry is bespect[8] with colour tending to a black. and that which after fire remainéd, rested in one tomb as thisbe did desire. * * * * * robin good-fellow; his mad pranks and merry jests not omitting that ancient form of beginning tales, _once upon a time_ it was my chance to travel into that noble county of kent. the weather being wet, and my two-legged horse being almost tired (for indeed my own legs were all the supporters that my body had), i went dropping into an alehouse; there found i, first a kind welcome, next good liquor, then kind strangers (which made good company), then an honest host, whose love to good liquor was written in red characters both in his nose, cheeks and forehead: an hostess i found there too, a woman of very good carriage; and though she had not so much colour (for what she had done) as her rich husband had, yet all beholders might perceive by the roundness of her belly, that she was able to draw a pot dry at a draught, and ne'er unlace for the matter. well, to the fire i went, where i dried my outside and wet my inside. the ale being good, and i in good company, i lapt in so much of this nappy liquor, that it begot in me a boldness to talk, and desire of them to know what was the reason that the people of that country were called long-tails[1]. the host said, all the reason that ever he could hear was, because the people of that country formerly did use to go in side-skirted coats. "there is," said an old man that sat by, "another reason that i have heard: that is this. in the time of the saxons' conquest of england there were divers of our countrymen slain by treachery, which made those that survived more careful in dealing with their enemies, as you shall hear. "after many overthrows that our countrymen had received by the saxons, they dispersed themselves into divers companies into the woods, and so did much damage by their sudden assaults to the saxons, that hengist, their king, hearing the damage that they did (and not knowing how to subdue them by force), used this policy. he sent to a company of them, and gave them his word for their liberty and safe return, if they would come unarmed and speak with him. this they seemed to grant unto, but for their more security (knowing how little he esteemed oaths or promises) they went every one of them armed with a short sword, hanging just behind under their garments, so that the saxons thought not of any weapons they had: but it proved otherwise; for when hengist his men (that were placed to cut them off) fell all upon them, they found such unlooked a resistance, that most of the saxons were slain, and they that escaped, wondering how they could do that hurt, having no weapons (as they saw), reported that they struck down men like lions with their tails; and so they ever after were called kentish long-tails." i told him this was strange, if true, and that their country's honour bound them more to believe in this than it did me. "truly, sir," said my hostess, "i think we are called long-tails, by reason our tales are long, that we used to pass the time withal, and make ourselves merry." "now, good hostess," said i, "let me entreat from you one of those tales." "you shall," said she, "and that shall not be a common one neither, for it is a long tale, a merry tale, and a sweet tale; and thus it begins." the hostess's tale of the birth of robin good-fellow once upon a time, a great while ago, when men did eat more and drink less--then men were more honest, that knew no knavery, than some now are that confess the knowledge and deny the practice--about that time (whensoe'er it was) there was wont to walk many harmless spirits called fairies, dancing in brave order in fairy rings on green hills with sweet music (sometime invisible) in divers shapes: many mad pranks would they play, as pinching of sluts black and blue, and misplacing things in ill-ordered houses; but lovingly would they use wenches that cleanly were, giving them silver and other pretty toys, which they would leave for them, sometimes in their shoes, other times in their pockets, sometimes in bright basins and other clean vessels. amongst these fairies was there a he-fairy; whether he was their king or no i know not, but surely he had great government and command in that country, as you shall hear. this same he-fairy did love a proper young wench, for every night would he with other fairies come to the house, and there dance in her chamber; and oftentimes she was forced to dance with him, and at his departure would he leave her silver and jewels, to express his love unto her. at last this maid was with child, and being asked who was the father of it, she answered a man that nightly came to visit her, but early in the morning he would go his way, whither she knew not, he went so suddenly. many old women, that then had more wit than those that are now living and have less, said that a fairy had gotten her with child; and they bid her be of good comfort, for the child must needs be fortunate that had so noble a father as a fairy was, and should work many strange wonders. to be short, her time grew on, and she was delivered of a man child, who (it should seem) so rejoiced his father's heart, that every night his mother was supplied with necessary things that are befitting a woman in child-birth, so that in no mean manner neither; for there had she rich embroidered cushions, stools, carpets, coverlets, delicate linen: then for meat she had capons, chickens, mutton, lamb, pheasant, snite[2], woodcock, partridge, quail. the gossips liked this fare so well that she never wanted company; wine had she of all sorts, muskadine, sack, malmsey, claret, white and bastard; this pleased her neighbours well, so that few that came to see her, but they had home with them a medicine for the fleas. sweetmeats too had they in such abundance that some of their teeth are rotten to this day; and for music she wanted not, or any other thing she desired. all praised this honest fairy for his care, and the child for his beauty, and the mother for a happy woman. in brief, christened he was, at the which all this good cheer was doubled, which made most of the women so wise, that they forgot to make themselves unready, and so lay in their clothes; and none of them next day could remember the child's name but the clerk, and he may thank his book for it, or else it had been utterly lost. so much for the birth of little robin. of robin good-fellow's behaviour when he was young when robin was grown to six years of age, he was so knavish that all the neighbours did complain of him; for no sooner was his mother's back turned, but he was in one knavish action or other, so that his mother was constrained (to avoid the complaints) to take him with her to market, or wheresoever she went or rode. but this helped little or nothing, for if he rode before her, then would he make mouths and ill-favoured faces at those he met; if he rode behind her, then would he clap his hand on his tail; so that his mother was weary of the many complaints that came against him, yet knew she not how to beat him justly for it, because she never saw him do that which was worthy blows. the complaints were daily so renewed that his mother promised him a whipping. robin did not like that cheer, and therefore, to avoid it, he ran away, and left his mother a heavy woman for him. how robin good-fellow dwelt with a tailor after that robin good-fellow had gone a great way from his mother's house, he began to be hungry, and going to a tailor's house, he asked something for god's sake. the tailor gave him meat, and understanding that he was masterless, he took him for his man, and robin so plied his work that he got his master's love. on a time his master had a gown to make for a woman, and it was to be done that night: they both sat up late so that they had done all but setting on the sleeves by twelve o'clock. this master then being sleepy said, "robin, whip thou on the sleeves, and then come thou to bed; i will go to bed before." "i will," said robin. so soon as his master was gone, robin hung up the gown, and taking both sleeves in his hands, he whipped and lashed them on the gown. so stood he till the morning that his master came down: his master seeing him stand in that fashion asked him what he did? "why," quoth he, "as you bid me, whip on the sleeves." "thou rogue," said his master, "i did mean that thou shouldst have set them on quickly and slightly." "i would you had said so," said robin, "for then had i not lost all this sleep." to be short, his master was fain to do the work, but ere he had made an end of it, the woman came for it, and with a loud voice chafed for her gown. the tailor, thinking to please her, bid robin fetch the remnants that they left yesterday (meaning thereby meat that was left); but robin, to cross his master the more, brought down the remnants of the cloth that was left of the gown. at the sight of this, his master looked pale, but the woman was glad, saying, "i like this breakfast so well, that i will give you a pint of wine to it." she sent robin for the wine, but he never returned again to his master. what happened to robin good-fellow after he went from the tailor after robin had travelled a good day's journey from his master's house he sat down, and being weary he fell asleep. no sooner had slumber taken full possession of him, and closed his long-opened eyelids, but he thought he saw many goodly proper personages in antic measures tripping about him, and withal he heard such music as he thought that orpheus, that famous greek fiddler (had he been alive), compared to one of these, had been as infamous as a welsh harper that plays for cheese and onions. as delights commonly last not long, so did those end sooner than he would willingly they should have done; and for very grief he awaked, and found by him lying a scroll, wherein was written these lines following in golden letters. robin, my only son and heir, how to live take thou no care: by nature thou hast cunning shifts, which i'll increase with other gifts. wish what thou wilt, thou shalt it have; and for to vex both fool and knave, thou hast the power to change thy shape, to horse, to hog, to dog, to ape. transforméd thus, by any means see none thou harm'st but knaves and queans; but love thou those that honest be, and help them in necessity. do thus, and all the world shall know the pranks of robin good-fellow; for by that name thou called shalt be to age's last posterity. if thou observe my just command, one day thou shalt see fairy land. this more i give: who tells thy pranks from those that hear them shall have thanks. robin having read this was very joyful, yet longed he to know whether he had this power or not, and to try it he wished for some meat: presently[3] it was before him. then wished he for beer and wine: he straightway had it. this liked him well, and because he was weary, he wished himself a horse: no sooner was his wish ended, but he was transformed, and seemed a horse of twenty pound price, and leaped and curveted as nimble as if he had been in stable at rack and manger a good month. then wished he himself a dog, and was so: then a tree, and was so: so from one thing to another, till he was certain and well assured that he could change himself to any thing whatsoever. how robin good-fellow served a clownish fellow robin good-fellow going over a field met with a clownish fellow, to whom he spake in this manner. "friend," quoth he, "what is a clock?" "a thing," answered the clown, "that shows the time of the day." "why then," said robin good-fellow, "be thou a clock, and tell me what time of the day it is." "i owe thee not so much service," answered he again, "but because thou shalt think thyself beholden to me, know that it is the same time of the day as it was yesterday at this time." these cross-answers vexed robin good-fellow, so that in himself he vowed to be revenged of him, which he did in this manner. robin good-fellow turned himself into a bird, and followed this fellow, who was going into a field a little from that place to catch a horse that was at grass. the horse being wild ran over dyke and hedge, and the fellow after; but to little purpose, for the horse was too swift for him. robin was glad of this occasion, for now or never was the time to put his revenge in action. presently robin shaped himself like to the horse that the fellow followed, and so stood before the fellow: presently the fellow took hold of him and got on his back, but long had he not rid, but with a stumble he hurled this churlish clown to the ground, that he almost broke his neck; yet took he not this for a sufficient revenge for the cross-answers he had received, but stood still and let the fellow mount him once more. in the way the fellow was to ride was a great plash of water of a good depth: through this must he of necessity ride. no sooner was he in the midst of it, but robin good-fellow left him with nothing but a pack-saddle betwixt his legs, and in the shape of a fish swam to the shore, and ran away laughing, _ho, ho, hoh!_[4] leaving the poor fellow almost drowned. how robin good-fellow helped two lovers and deceived an old man robin going by a wood heard two lovers make great lamentation, because they were hindered from enjoying each other by a cruel old lecher, who would not suffer this loving couple to marry. robin, pitying them, went to them and said: "i have heard your complaints, and do pity you; be ruled by me, and i will see that you shall have both your hearts' content, and that suddenly if you please." after some amazement the maiden said, "alas! sir, how can that be? my uncle, because i will not grant to his lust, is so straight over me, and so oppresseth me with work night and day, that i have not so much time as to drink or speak with this young man, whom i love above all men living." "if your work be all that hindereth you," said robin, "i will see that done: ask me not how, nor make any doubt of the performance; i will do it. go you with your love: for twenty-four hours i will free you. in that time marry or do what you will. if you refuse my proffered kindness never look to enjoy your wished-for happiness. i love true lovers, honest men, good fellows, good housewives, good meat, good drink, and all things that good is, but nothing that is ill; for my name is robin good-fellow, and that you shall see that i have power to perform what i have undertaken, see what i can do." presently he turned himself into a horse, and away he ran: at the sight of which they were both amazed, but better considering with themselves, they both determined to make good use of their time, and presently they went to an old friar, who presently married them. they paid him, and went their way. where they supped and lay, i know not, but surely they liked their lodging well the next day. robin, when that he came near the old man's house, turned himself into the shape of the young maid, and entered the house, where, after much chiding, he fell to the work that the maid had to do, which he did in half the time that another could do it in. the old man, seeing the speed he made, thought that she had some meeting that night (for he took robin good-fellow for his niece); therefore he gave him order for other work, that was too much for any one to do in one night; robin did that in a trice, and played many mad pranks beside ere the day appeared. in the morning he went to the two lovers to their bed-side, and bid god give them joy, and told them all things went well, and that ere night he would bring them ten pounds of her uncle's to begin the world with. they both thanked him, which was all the requital that he looked for, and being therewith well contented he went his way laughing. home went he to the old man, who then was by, and marvelled how the work was done so soon. robin, seeing that, said: "sir, i pray marvel not, for a greater wonder than that this night hath happened to me." "good niece, what is that?" said the old man. "this, sir; but i shame to speak it, yet i will: weary with work, i slept, and did dream that i consented to that which you have so often desired of me (you know what it is i mean), and methought you gave me as a reward ten pounds, with your consent to marry that young man that i have loved so long." "didst thou dream so? thy dream i will make good, for under my handwriting i give my free consent to marry him, or whom thou dost please to marry (and withal writ); and for the ten pounds, go but into the out-barn, and i will bring it thee presently. how sayest thou," said the old lecher; "wilt thou?" robin with silence did seem to grant, and went toward the barn. the old man made haste, told out his money, and followed. being come thither, he hurled the money on the ground, saying, "this is the most pleasing bargain that ever i made;" and going to embrace robin, robin took him up in his arms and carried him forth; first drew him through a pond to cool his hot blood, then did he carry him where the young married couple were, and said, "here is your uncle's consent under his hand; then, here is the ten pounds he gave you, and there is your uncle: let him deny it if he can." the old man, for fear of worse usage, said all was true. "then am i as good as my word," said robin, and so went, away laughing. the old man knew himself duly punished, and turned his hatred into love, and thought afterward as well of them as if she had been his own. the second part shall show many incredible things done by robin good-fellow (or otherwise called hob-goblin) and his companions, by turning himself into divers sundry shapes. the second part of robin good-fellow, commonly called hob-goblin how robin good-fellow helped a maid to work robin good-fellow oftentimes would in the night visit farmers' houses, and help the maids to break hemp, to bolt[5], to dress flax, and to spin and do other work, for he was excellent in everything. one night he came to a farmer's house, where there was a good handsome maid: this maid having much work to do, robin one night did help her, and in six hours did bolt more than she could have done in twelve hours. the maid wondered the next day how her work came, and to know the doer, she watched the next night that did follow. about twelve of the clock in came robin, and fell to breaking of hemp, and for to delight himself he sung this mad song. and can the physician make sick men well? and can the magician a fortune divine? without lily, germander and sops-in-wine? with sweet-brier and bon-fire, and strawberry wire, and columbine. within and out, in and out, round as a ball, with hither and thither, as straight as a line, with lily, germander and sops-in-wine. with sweet-brier, and bon-fire, and strawberry wire, and columbine. when saturn did live, there lived no poor, the king and the beggar with roots did dine, with lily, germander and sops-in-wine. with sweet-brier, and bon-fire, and strawberry wire, and columbine. the maid, seeing him bare in clothes, pitied him, and against the next night provided him a waistcoat. robin, coming the next night to work, as he did before, espied the waistcoat, whereat he started and said- because thou lay'st me, himpen, hampen,[6] i will neither bolt nor stampen; 'tis not your garments new or old that robin loves: i feel no cold. had you left me milk or cream, you should have had a pleasing dream: because you left no drop or crumb, robin never more will come. so went he away laughing, _ho, ho, hoh!_ the maid was much grieved and discontented at his anger: for ever after she was fain to do her work herself without the help of robin good-fellow. how robin good-fellow led a company of fellows out of their way a company of young men having been making merry with their sweethearts, were at their coming home to come over a heath. robin good-fellow, knowing of it, met them, and to make some pastime, he led them up and down the heath a whole night, so that they could not get out of it; for he went before them in the shape of a walking fire, which they all saw and followed till the day did appear: then robin left them, and at his departure spake these words- get you home, you merry lads! tell your mammies and your dads, and all those that news desire, how you saw a walking fire. wenches, that do smile and lisp use to call me willy wisp. if that you but weary he, it is sport alone for me. away: unto your houses go and i'll go laughing _ho, ho, hoh!_ the fellows were glad that he was gone, for they were all in a great fear that he would have done them some mischief. how robin good-fellow served a lecherous gallant robin always did help those that suffered wrong, and never would hurt any but those that did wrong to others. it was his chance one day to go through a field where he heard one call for help: he, going near where he heard the cry, saw a lusty gallant that would have forced a young maiden to his lust; but the maiden in no wise would yield, which made her cry for help. robin good-fellow, seeing of this, turned himself into the shape of a hare, and so ran between the lustful gallant's legs. this gallant, thinking to have taken him, he presently turned himself into a horse, and so perforce carried away this gallant on his back. the gentleman cried out for help, for he thought that the devil had been come to fetch him for his wickedness; but his crying was in vain, for robin did carry him into a thick hedge, and there left him so pricked and scratched, that he more desired a plaister for his pain than a wench for his pleasure. thus the poor maid was freed from this ruffian, and robin good-fellow, to see this gallant so tame, went away laughing, _ho, ho, hoh!_ how robin good-fellow turned a miserable usurer to a good house-keeper in this country of ours there was a rich man dwelled, who to get wealth together was so sparing that he could not find in his heart to give his belly food enough. in the winter he never would make so much fire as would roast a black-pudding, for he found it more profitable to sit by other men's. his apparel was of the fashion that none did wear; for it was such as did hang at a broker's stall, till it was as weather-beaten as an old sign. this man for his covetousness was so hated of all his neighbours, that there was not one that gave him a good word. robin good-fellow grieved to see a man of such wealth do so little good, and therefore practised to better him in this manner. one night the usurer being in bed, robin in the shape of a night-raven[7] came to the window, and there did beat with his wings, and croaked in such manner that this old usurer thought he should have presently died for fear. this was but a preparation to what he did intend; for presently after he appeared before him at his bed's feet, in the shape of a ghost, with a torch in his hand. at the sight of this the old usurer would have risen out of his bed, and have leaped out of the window, but he was stayed by robin good-fellow, who spake to him thus- if thou dost stir out of thy bed, i do vow to strike thee dead. i do come to do thee good; recall thy wits and starkled[8] blood. the money which thou up dost store in soul and body makes thee poor. do good with money while you may; thou hast not long on earth to stay. do good, i say, or day and night i hourly thus will thee affright. think on my words, and so farewell, for being bad i live in hell. having said thus he vanished away and left this usurer in great terror of mind; and for fear of being frighted again with this ghost, he turned very liberal, and lived amongst his neighbours as an honest man should do. how robin good-fellow loved a weaver's wife, and how the weaver would have drowned him one day robin good-fellow, walking through the street, found at the door sitting a pretty woman: this woman was wife to the weaver, and was a-winding of quills[9] for her husband. robin liked her so well, that for her sake he became servant to her husband, and did daily work at the loom; but all the kindness that he showed was but lost, for his mistress would show him no favour, which made him many times to exclaim against the whole sex in satirical songs; and one day being at work he sung this, to the tune of _rejoice bag-pipes_- why should my love now wax unconstant, wavering, fickle, unstaid? with nought can she me tax: i ne'er recanted what i once said. i now do see, as nature fades, and all her works decay, so women all, wives, widows, maids, from bad to worse do stray. as herbs, trees, roots, and plants in strength and growth are daily less, so all things have their wants: the heavenly signs move and digress; and honesty in women's hearts hath not her former being: their thoughts are ill, like other parts, nought else in them's agreeing. i sooner thought thunder had power o'er the laurel wreath, than she, women's wonder, such perjured thoughts should live to breathe. they all hyena-like will weep, when that they would deceive: deceit in them doth lurk and sleep, which makes me thus to grieve. young man's delight, farewell; wine, women, game, pleasure, adieu: content with me shall dwell; i'll nothing trust but what is true. though she were false, for her i'll pray; her falsehood made me blest: i will renew from this good day my life by sin opprest. moved with this song and other complaints of his, she at last did fancy him, so that the weaver did not like that robin should be so saucy with his wife, and therefore gave him warning to be gone, for he would keep him no longer. this grieved this loving couple to part one from the other, which made them to make use of the time that they had. the weaver one day coming in, found them a-kissing: at this he said [nothing] but vowed in himself to be revenged of his man that night following. night being come, the weaver went to robin's bed, and took him out of it (as he then thought) and ran apace to the river side to hurl robin in; but the weaver was deceived, for robin, instead of himself, had laid in his bed a sack full of yarn: it was that that the weaver carried to drown. the weaver standing by the river side said:--now will i cool your hot blood, master robert, and if you cannot swim the better you shall sink and drown, with that he hurled the sack in, thinking that it had been robin good-fellow. robin, standing behind him, said- for this your kindness, master, i you thank: go swim yourself; i'll stay upon the bank. with that robin pushed him in, and went laughing away, _ho, ho, hoh!_ how robin good-fellow went in the shape of a fiddler to a wedding, and of the sport that he had there on a time there was a great wedding, to which there went many young lusty lads and pretty lasses. robin good-fellow longing not to be out of action, shaped himself like unto a fiddler, and with his crowd under his arm went amongst them, and was a very welcome man. there played he whilst they danced, and took as much delight in seeing them, as they did in hearing him. at dinner he was desired to sing a song, which he did to the tune of _watton town's end_[10]. the song it was a country lad that fashions strange would see, and he came to a vaulting school, where tumblers used to be: he liked his sport so well, that from it he'd not part: his doxy to him still did cry, come, buss thine own sweetheart. they liked his gold so well, that they were both content, that he that night with his sweetheart should pass in merriment. to bed they then did go; full well he knew his part, where he with words, and eke with deeds, did buss his own sweetheart. long were they not in bed, but one knocked at the door, and said, up, rise, and let me in: this vexed both knave and whore. he being sore perplexed from bed did lightly start; no longer then could he endure to buss his own sweetheart. with tender steps he trod, to see if he could spy the man that did him so molest; which he with heavy eye had soon beheld, and said, alas! my own sweetheart, i now do doubt, if e'er we buss, it must be in a cart. at last the bawd arose and opened the door, and saw discretion cloth'd in rug, whose office hates a whore. he mounted up the stairs, being cunning in his art; with little search at last he found my youth and his sweetheart. he having wit at will, unto them both did say, i will not hear them speak one word watchmen, with them away! and cause they loved so well 'tis pity they should part. away with them to new bride-well; there buss your own sweetheart. his will it was fulfilled, and there they had the law; and whilst that they did nimbly spin, the hemp he needs must taw. he ground, he thumped, he grew so cunning in his art, he learnt the trade of beating hemp by bussing his sweetheart. but yet, he still would say, if i could get release to see strange fashions i'll give o'er, and henceforth live in peace, the town where i was bred, and think by my desart to come no more into this place for bussing my sweetheart. they all liked his song very well, and said that the young man had but ill-luck. thus continued he playing and singing songs till candle-light: then he began to play his merry tricks in this manner. first he put out the candles, and then, being dark, he struck the men good boxes on the ears: they, thinking it had been those that did sit next them, fell a-fighting one with the other; so that there was not one of them but had either a broken head or a bloody nose. at this robin laughed heartily. the women did not escape him, for the handsomest he kissed; the other he pinched, and made them scratch one the other, as if they had been cats. candles being lighted again, they all were friends, and fell again to dancing, and after to supper. supper being ended, a great posset was brought forth: at this robin good-fellow's teeth did water, for it looked so lovely that he could not keep from it. to attain to his wish, he did turn himself into a bear: both men and women (seeing a bear amongst them) ran away, and left the whole posset to robin good-fellow. he quickly made an end of it, and went away without his money; for the sport he had was better to him than any money whatsoever. the fear that the guests were in did cause such a smell, that the bridegroom did call for perfumes; and instead of a posset, he was fain to make use of cold beer. how robin good-fellow served a tapster for nicking his pots there was a tapster, that with his pots' smallness, and with frothing of his drink, had got a good sum of money together. this nicking of the pots he would never leave, yet divers times he had been under the hand of authority, but what money soever he had [to pay] for his abuses, he would be sure (as they all do) to get it out of the poor man's pot again. robin good-fellow, hating such knavery, put a trick upon him in this manner. robin shaped himself like to the tapster's brewer, and came and demanded twenty pounds which was due to him from the tapster. the tapster, thinking it had been his brewer, paid him the money, which money robin gave to the poor of that parish before the tapster's face. the tapster praised his charity very much, and said that god would bless him the better for such good deeds: so after they had drank one with the other, they parted. some four days after the brewer himself came for his money: the tapster told him that it was paid, and that he had a quittance from him to show. hereat the brewer did wonder, and desired to see the quittance. the tapster fetched him a writing, which robin good-fellow had given him instead of a quittance, wherein was written as followeth, which the brewer read to him- i, robin good-fellow, true man and honest man, do acknowledge to have received of nick and froth, the cheating tapster, the sum of twenty pounds, which money i have bestowed (to the tapster's content) among the poor of the parish, out of whose pockets this aforesaid tapster had picked the aforesaid sum, not after the manner of foisting, but after his excellent skill of bombasting[11], or a pint for a penny. if now thou wilt go hang thyself, then take thy apron strings; it doth me good when such foul birds upon the gallows sings. _per me_ robin good-fellow. at this the tapster swore walsingham; but for all his swearing, the brewer made him pay him his twenty pounds. how king obreon[12] called robin good-fellow to dance king obreon, seeing robin good-fellow do so many honest and merry tricks, called him one night out of his bed with these words, saying- robin, my son, come quickly, rise: first stretch, then yawn, and rub your eyes; for thou must go with me to-night, to see, and taste of my delight. quickly come, my wanton son; 'twere time our sports were now begun. robin, hearing this, rose and went to him. there were with king obreon a many fairies, all attired in green silk; all these, with king obreon, did welcome robin good-fellow into their company. obreon took robin by the hand and led him a dance: their musician was little tom thumb; for he had an excellent bag-pipe made of a wren's quill, and the skin of a greenland louse: this pipe was so shrill, and so sweet, that a scottish pipe compared to it, it would no more come near it, than a jew's-trump doth to an irish harp. after they had danced, king obreon spake to his son, robin good-fellow, in this manner- when e'er you hear my piper blow, from thy bed see that thou go; for nightly you must with us dance, when we in circles round do prance. i love thee, son, and by the hand i carry thee to fairy land, where thou shalt see what no man knows: such love thee king obreon owes. so marched they in good manner (with their piper before) to the fairy land: there did king obreon show robin good-fellow many secrets, which he never did open to the world. how robin good-fellow was wont to walk in the night robin good-fellow would many times walk in the night with a broom on his shoulder, and cry "chimney sweep," but when any one did call him, then would he run away laughing _ho, ho, hoh!_ sometimes he would counterfeit a beggar, begging very pitifully, but when they came to give him an alms, he would run away, laughing as his manner was. sometimes would he knock at men's doors, and when the servants came, he would blow out the candle, if they were men; but if they were women, he would not only put out their light, but kiss them full sweetly, and then go away as his fashion was, _ho, ho, hoh!_ oftentimes would he sing at a door like a singing man, and when they did come to give him his reward, he would turn his back and laugh. in these humours of his he had many pretty songs, which i will sing as perfect as i can. for his chimney-sweeper's humours he had these songs: the first is to the tune of _i have been a fiddler these fifteen years_. black i am from head to foot, and all doth come by chimney soot: then maidens, come and cherish him that makes your chimneys neat and trim. horns have i store, but all at my back; my head no ornament doth lack: i give my horns to other men, and ne'er require them again. then come away, you wanton wives, that love your pleasures as your lives: to each good woman i'll give two, or more, if she think them too few. then would he change his note and sing this following, to the tune of _what care i how fair she be?_[13] be she blacker than the stock, if that thou wilt make her fair, put her in a cambric smock, buy her paint and flaxen hair. one your carrier brings to town will put down your city-bred; put her on a broker's gown, that will sell her maiden-head. comes your spaniard, proud in mind, he'll have the first cut, or else none: the meek italian comes behind, and your frenchman picks the bone. still she trades with dutch and scot, irish, and the german tall, till she gets the thing you wot; then her end's an hospital. a song to the tune of _the spanish pavin_[14]. when virtue was a country maid, and had no skill to set up trade, she came up with a carrier's jade, and lay at rack and manger. she whiffed her pipe, she drunk her can, the pot was ne'er out of her span; she married a tobacco man, a stranger, a stranger. they set up shop in honey lane, and thither flies did swarm amain, some from france, some from spain, train'd in by scurvy panders. at last this honey pot grew dry, then both were forcéd for to fly to flanders, to flanders. another to the tune of _the coranto_. i peeped in at the woolsack, o, what a goodly sight did i behold at midnight chime! the wenches were drinking of mulled sack; each youth on his knee, that then did want a year and a half of his time. they leaped and skipped, they kissed and they clipped, and yet it was counted no crime. the grocer's chief servant brought sugar, and out of his leather pocket he pulled, and culled some pound and a half; for which he was suffered to smack her that was his sweetheart, and would not depart, but turned and lick'd the calf. he rung her, and he flung her, he kissed her, and he swung her, and yet she did nothing but laugh. thus would he sing about cities and towns, and when any one called him, he would change his shape, and go laughing _ho, ho, hoh!_ for his humours of begging he used this song, to the tune of _the jovial tinker_[15]. good people of this mansion, unto the poor be pleased to do some good, and give some food, that hunger may be eased. my limbs with fire are burned, my goods and lands defaced; of wife and child i am beguiled, so much am i debased. oh, give the poor some bread, cheese, or butter, bacon, hemp, or flax; some pudding bring, or other thing: my need doth make me ax[16]. i am no common beggar, nor am i skilled in canting: you ne'er shall see a wench with me, such tricks in me are wanting. i curse not if you give not, but still i pray and bless you, still wishing joy, and that annoy may never more possess you. oh, give the poor some bread, cheese or butter, bacon, hemp or flax; some pudding bring, or other thing, my need doth make me ax. when any came to relieve him, then would he change himself into some other shape, and run laughing, _ho, ho, hoh!_ then would he shape himself like to a singing man; and at men's windows and doors sing civil and virtuous songs, one of which i will sing to the tune of _broom_[17]. if thou wilt lead a blest and happy life, i will describe the perfect way: first must thou shun all cause of mortal strife, against thy lusts continually to pray. attend unto god's word: great comfort 'twill afford; 'twill keep thee from discord. then trust in god, the lord, for ever, for ever; and see in this thou persever. so soon as day appeareth in the east give thanks to him, and mercy crave; so in this life thou shalt be surely blest, and mercy shalt thou find in grave. the conscience that is clear no horror doth it fear; 'tis void of mortal care, and never doth despair; but ever, but ever doth in the word of god persever. thus living, when thou drawest to thy end thy joys they shall much more increase, for then thy soul, thy true and loving friend, by death shall find a wished release from all that caused sin, in which it lived in; for then it doth begin those blessed joys to win, for ever, for ever, for there is nothing can them sever. those blessed joys which then thou shalt possess, no mortal tongue can them declare: all earthly joys, compared with this, are less than smallest mote to the world so fair. then is not that man blest that must enjoy this rest? full happy is that guest invited to this feast, that ever, that ever endureth and is ended never. when they opened the window or door, then would he run away laughing _ho, ho, hoh!_ sometimes would he go like a bellman in the night, and with many pretty verses delight the ears of those that waked at his bell ringing: his verses were these- maids in your smocks, look well to your locks, and your tinder box, your wheels and your rocks, your hens and your cocks, your cows and your ox, and beware of the fox. when the bellman knocks, put out your fire and candle-light, so they shall not you affright: may you dream of your delights, in your sleeps see pleasing sights. good rest to all, both old and young: the bellman now hath done his song. then would he go laughing _ho, ho, hoh!_ as his use was. thus would he continually practise himself in honest mirth, never doing hurt to any that were cleanly and honest-minded. how the fairies called robin good-fellow to dance with them, and how they showed him their several conditions robin good-fellow being walking one night heard the excellent music of tom thumb's brave bag-pipe: he remembering the sound (according to the command of king obreon) went towards them. they, for joy that he was come, did circle him in, and in a ring did dance round about him. robin good-fellow, seeing their love to him, danced in the midst of them, and sung them this song to the tune of _to him bun_. the song round about, little ones, quick and nimble, in and out wheel about, run, hop, or amble. join your hands lovingly: well done, musician! mirth keepeth man in health like a physician. elves, urchins, goblins all, and little fairies that do filch, black, and pinch maids of the dairies; make a ring on the grass with your quick measures, tom shall play, and i'll sing for all your pleasures. pinch and patch, gull and grim, go you together, for you can change your shapes like to the weather. sib and tib, lick and lull, you all have tricks, too; little tom thumb that pipes shall go betwixt you. tom, tickle up thy pipes till they be weary: i will laugh, _ho, ho, hoh!_ and make me merry. make a ring on this grass with your quick measures: tom shall play, i will sing for all your pleasures. the moon shines fair and bright, and the owl hollos, mortals now take their rests upon their pillows: the bat's abroad likewise, and the night-raven, which doth use for to call men to death's haven. now the mice peep abroad, and the cats take them, now do young wenches sleep, till their dreams wake them. make a ring on the grass with your quick measures: tom shall play, i will sing for all your pleasures. thus danced they a good space: at last they left and sat down upon the grass; and to requite robin good-fellow's kindness, they promised to tell to him all the exploits that they were accustomed to do: robin thanked them and listened to them, and one began to tell his tricks in this manner. the tricks of the fairy called pinch "after that we have danced in this manner as you have beheld, i, that am called pinch, do go about from house to house: sometimes i find the doors of the house open; that negligent servant that left them so, i do so nip him or her, that with my pinches their bodies are as many colours as a mackerel's back. then take i them, and lay i them in the door, naked or unnaked i care not whether: there they lie, many times till broad day, ere they waken; and many times, against their wills, they show some parts about them, that they would not have openly seen. "sometimes i find a slut sleeping in the chimney-corner, when she should be washing of her dishes, or doing something else which she hath left undone: her i pinch about the arms, for not laying her arms to her labour. some i find in their bed snorting and sleeping, and their houses lying as clean as a nasty dog's kennel; in one corner bones, in another egg-shells, behind the door a heap of dust, the dishes under feet, and the cat in the cupboard: all these sluttish tricks i do reward with blue legs, and blue arms. i find some slovens too, as well as sluts: they pay for their beastliness too, as well as the women-kind; for if they uncase a sloven and not untie their points, i so pay their arms that they cannot sometimes untie them, if they would. those that leave foul shoes, or go into their beds with their stockings on, i use them as i did the former, and never leave them till they have left their beastliness. but to the good i do no harm, but cover them and keep them warm: sluts and slovens i do pinch, and make them in their beds to winch this is my practice, and my trade; many have i cleanly made." the tricks of the fairy called patch "about midnight do i walk, and for the tricks i play they call me patch. when i find a slut asleep, i smutch her face if it be clean; but if it be dirty, i wash it in the next piss pot that i can find: the balls i use to wash such sluts withal is a sow's pancake or a pilgrim's salve. those that i find with their heads nitty and scabby, for want of combing, i am their barbers, and cut their hair as close as an ape's tail; or else clap so much pitch on it, that they must cut it off themselves to their great shame. slovens also that neglect their masters' business, they do not escape. some i find that spoil their masters' horses for want of currying: those i do daub with grease and soot, that they are fain to curry themselves ere they can get clean. others that for laziness will give the poor beasts no meat, i oftentimes so punish them with blows, that they cannot feed themselves they are so sore. thus many tricks i patch can do, but to the good i ne'er was foe: the bad i hate and will do ever, till they from ill themselves do sever. to help the good i'll run and go, the bad no good from me shall know." the tricks of the fairy called gull "when mortals keep their beds i walk abroad, and for my pranks am called by the name of gull. i with a feigned voice do often deceive many men, to their great amazement. many times i get on men and women, and so lie on their stomachs, that i cause there great pain, for which they call me by the name of hag, or nightmare. 'tis i that do steal children, and in the place of them leave changelings. sometimes i also steal milk and cream, and then with my brothers, patch, pinch, and grim, and sisters sib, tib, lick, and lull, i feast with my stolen goods: our little piper hath his share in all our spoils, but he nor our women fairies do ever put themselves in danger to do any great exploit. what gull can do, i have you shown; i am inferior unto none. command me, robin, thou shalt know, that i for thee will ride or go: i can do greater things than these upon the land, and on the seas." the tricks of the fairy called grim "i walk with the owl, and make many to cry as loud as she doth hollo. sometimes i do affright many simple people, for which some have termed me the black dog of newgate. at the meetings of young men and maids i many times am, and when they are in the midst of all their good cheer, i come in, in some fearful shape, and affright them, and then carry away their good cheer, and eat it with my fellow fairies. 'tis i that do, like a screech-owl cry at sick men's windows, which makes the hearers so fearful, that they say, that the sick person cannot live. many other ways have i to fright the simple, but the understanding man i cannot move to fear, because he knows i have no power to do hurt. my nightly business i have told, to play these tricks i use of old: when candles burn both blue and dim, old folk will say, here's fairy grim. more tricks than these i use to do: hereat cried robin, _ho, ho, hoh!_" the tricks of the women fairies told by sib "to walk nightly, as do the men fairies, we use not; but now and then we go together, and at good housewives' fires we warm and dress our fairy children. if we find clean water and clean towels, we leave them money, either in their basins or in their shoes; but if we find no clean water in their houses, we wash our children in their pottage, milk, or beer, or whate'er we find: for the sluts that leave not such things fitting, we wash their faces and hands with a gilded child's clout, or else carry them to some river, and duck them over head and ears. we often use to dwell in some great hill, and from thence we do lend money to any poor man or woman that hath need; but if they bring it not again at the day appointed, we do not only punish them with pinching, but also in their goods, so that they never thrive till they have paid us. tib and i the chiefest are, and for all things do take care. lick is cook and dresseth meat, and fetcheth all things that we eat: lull is nurse and tends the cradle, and the babes doth dress and swaddle. this little fellow, called tom thumb, that is no bigger than a plum, he is the porter to our gate, for he doth let all in thereat, and makes us merry with his play, and merrily we spend the day." she having spoken, tom thumb stood up on tip-toe and showed himself, saying- my actions all in volumes two are wrote, the least of which will never be forgot. he had no sooner ended his two lines, but a shepherd (that was watching in the field all night) blew up a bag-pipe: this so frightened tom, that he could not tell what to do for the present time. the fairies seeing tom thumb in such a fear, punished the shepherd with his pipes' loss, so that the shepherd's pipe presently brake in his hand, to his great amazement. hereat did robin good-fellow laugh, _ho, ho, hoh!_ morning being come, they all hasted to fairy land, where i think they yet remain. my hostess asked me how i liked this tale? i said, it was long enough, and good enough to pass time that might be worser spent. i, seeing her dry, called for two pots: she emptied one of them at a draught, and never breathed for the matter: i emptied the other at leisure; and being late i went to bed, and did dream of this which i had heard. * * * * * the romance of thomas of erceldoune fytte i as i me went this endris[1] day, full fast in mind making my moan, in a merry morning of may by huntlie banks myself alone, i heard the jay and the throstle-cock; 5 the mavis meaned[2] her of her song; the woodwale berèd[3] as a bell, that all the wood about me rong. alone in longing thus as i lay underneath a seemly tree, 10 saw i where a lady gay came riding over a longè lea. if i should sit to doomèsday with my tongue to wrable and wry[4], certainly that lady gay 15 never be she described for me! her palfrey was a dapple-gray,[5] swilk[6] one ne saw i never none; as does the sun on summer's day, that fair lady herself she shone. 20 her saddle it was of roelle-bone[7]; full seemly was that sight to see! stiffly set with precious stone and compast all with crapotee[8]- stones of orient great plenty; 25 her hair about her head it hang; she rode over that longè lea; a while she blew, another she sang. her girths of noble silk they were; the buckles were of beryl-stone; 30 her stirrups were of crystal clear, and all with pearl overbegone[9]; her paytrell[10] was of iral-stone; her crupper was of orpharè[11]; and as clear gold her bridle shone; 35 on either side hang bellès three. she led three grew-hounds in a leash, and seven raches[12] by her they ran; she bare an horn about her halse[13], and under/her belt full many a flane[14]. 40 thomas lay and saw that sight underneath a seemly tree. he said "yon is mary most of might,[15] that bare that child that died for me. but-if[16] i speak with yon lady bright, 45 i hope my heart will break in three! now shall i go with all my might her for to meet at eildon tree[17]." thomas rathely[18] up he rase, and he ran over that mountain high; 50 if it be as the story says, her he met at eildon tree. he kneelèd down upon his knee, underneath that greenwood spray, and said "lovely lady, rue on me, 55 queen of heaven, as thou well may!" then spake that lady mild of thought, "thomas, let such wordès be; queen of heaven ne am i nought, for i took never so high degree. 60 but i am of another country, if i be 'parelled most of price; i ride after these wildè fee[19]; my raches runnès at my device." "if thou be 'parelled most of price, 65 and here rides thus in thy folly, of love, lady, as thou art wise, thou give me leave to lie thee by!" she said "thou man, that were folly; i pray thee, thomas, thou let me be; 70 for i say thee full sekerly[20], that sin will fordo all my beauty," "now, lovely lady, rue on me, and i will evermore with thee dwell; here my troth i will plight to thee, 75 whether thou wilt in heaven or hell." "man of mould, thou wilt me mar; but yet thou shalt have all thy will; and, trow it well, thou 'chievest the ware[21], for all my beauty wilt thou spill." 80 down then light that lady bright underneath that greenwood spray. and, as the story tells full right, seven times by her he lay. she said "man, thee likes thy play; 85 what byrde[22] in bower may deal with thee? thou marrest me all this longè day; i pray thee, thomas, let me be!" thomas stood up in that stead[23], and he beheld that lady gay; 90 her hair it hang all over her head; her eyne were out, that ere were gray; and all the rich clothing was away that he before saw in that stead; her one shank black, her other gray, 95 and all her body like the lead. then said thomas "alas, alas! in faith this is a duleful[24] sight; how art thou faded thus in the face, that shone before as the sun so bright!" 100 she said, "thomas, take leave at sun and moon, and also at leaf that grows on tree; this twelvemonth shalt thou with me gone[25], and middle-earth[26] shalt thou none see." he kneelèd down upon his knee, 105 underneath that greenwood spray, and said "lovely lady[27], rue on me, mild queen of heaven, as thou best may! alas!" he said, "and woe is me! i trow my deeds will work me care; 110 my soul, jesu, beteach[28] i thee, whithersoever my bones shall fare." she led him in at eildon hill underneath a dernè[29] lea, where it was dark as midnight mirk, 115 and ever the water till his knee. the mountenance[30] of dayès three he heard but swoughing of the flood; at the last he said "full woe is me! almost i die for fault of food." 120 she led him intill a fair herbere[31] where fruit was growing great plenty; pear and apple, both ripe they were, the date, and also the damasee, the fig, and also the wine-berry; 125 the nightègales bigging[32] on their nest; the papejoys[33] fast about gan fly, and throstles sang, would have no rest. he pressed to pull fruit with his hand, as man for food that was near faint. 130 she said "thomas, thou let them stand,[34] or else the fiend thee will attaint! if thou it pluck, soothly to say, thy soul goes to the fire of hell; it comes never out or doomèsday, 135 but there in pain aye for to dwell. thomas, soothly, i thee hight[35], come lay thy head down on my knee, and thou shalt see the fairest sight that ever saw man of thy country." 140 he did in hight[36] as she him bade; upon her knee his head he laid, for her to pay[37] he was full glad, and then that lady to him said: "seest thou[38] now yon fair[39] way, 145 that lieth over yon high mountain? yon is the way to heaven for aye when sinful souls are past their pain. seest thou now yon other way, that lieth low beneath yon rise[40]? 150 yon is the way, thee sooth to say, unto the joy of paradise. seest thou yet yon thirdè way, that lieth under yon greenè plain? yon is the way, with teen and tray[41], 155 where sinful soulès suffer their pain. but seest thou now yon fourthè way, that lieth over yon deepè dell? yon is the way, so wellaway! unto the burning fire of hell. 160 seest thou yet yon fair castel, that standeth over yon highè hill? of town and tower it bears the bell, in earth is none like it untill. for sooth, thomas, yon is mine own, 165 and the king's of this country; but me were lever[42] be hanged and drawn or that[43] he wist thou lay me by. when thou com'st to yon castle gay, i pray thee courteous man to be, 170 and whatso any man to thee say, look thou answer none but me. my lord is servèd at each mess with thirty knightès fair and free; i shall say, sitting at the dess[44], 175 i took thy speech beyond the sea." thomas still as stone he stood, and he beheld that lady gay; she came again as fair and good and also rich on her palfrey. 180 her grewhounds fillèd with deer-blood; her raches coupled, by my fay; she blew her horn with main and mood[45]; unto the castle she took the way. into the hall soothly she went; 185 thomas followèd at her hand; then ladies came, both fair and gent, with courtesy to her kneeland[46]. harp and fithel both they fand[47], gittern and also the sawtery[48], 190 lute and ribib[49] both gangand[50], and all manner of minstrelsy. the most marvel that thomas thought, when that he stood upon the floor, for fifty hartès in were brought, 195 that were bothè great and store[51]. raches lay lapping in the blood; cookès came with dressing-knife; they brittened[52] them as they were wood; revel among them was full rife. 200 knightès danced by three and three, there was revel, gamen, and play; lovely ladies, fair and free, that sat and sang on rich array. thomas dwelled in that solace 205 more than i you say, pardè; till on a day, so have i grace, my lovely lady said to me[53]; "do busk thee, thomas; thee buse[54] again; for thou may here no longer be; 210 hie thee fast with might and main; i shall thee bring till eildon tree." thomas said then with heavy cheer[55], "lovely lady, now let me be; for certes, lady, i have been here 215 nought but the space of dayès three!" "for sooth, thomas, as i thee tell, thou hast been here three year and more; but longer here thou may not dwell;[56] the skill[57] i shall thee tell wherefore. 220 to-morn[58], of hell the foulè fiend among this folk will fetch his fee; and thou art mickle man and hend[59], i trow full well he would choose thee. for all the gold that ever may be 225 from hethen[60] unto the worldès end, thou beest never betrayed for me; therefore with me i rede[61] thou wend." she brought him again to eildon tree, underneath that greenwood spray. 230 in huntlie banks is merry to be, where fowlès sing both night and day.[62] "farewell, thomas, i wend my way, for me buse[63] over the bentès brown." --lo, here a fytte; more is to say[64] 235 all of thomas of erceldoune. * * * * * reginald scot discovery of witchcraft (1584) _from_ "to the readers." i should no more prevail herein [_i.e._ in securing attention] than if a hundred years since i should have entreated your predecessors to believe, that robin goodfellow, that great and ancient bull-beggar, had been but a cozening merchant and no devil indeed.... but robin goodfellow ceaseth now to be much feared, and popery is sufficiently discovered. book i, chap. iv.--"what miraculous actions are imputed to witches by witchmongers, papists, and poets." [quoted here to show that certain attributes of shakespeare's fairies belong also to witches.] [they] raise hail, tempests, and hurtful weather, as lighting, thunder, &c.... these can pass from place to place in the air invisible.... these can alter men's minds to inordinate love or hate.... ovid affirmeth that they can raise and suppress lighting and thunder, rain and hail, clouds and winds, tempests and earthquakes. others do write that they can pull down the moon and the stars.... they can also bring to pass, that, churn as long as you list, your butter will not come. book iii, chap. iv. the fairies do principally inhabit the mountains and caverns of the earth, whose nature is to make strange apparitions on the earth, in meadows or on mountains, being like men and women, soldiers, kings, and ladies, children and horsemen, clothed in green, to which purpose they do in the night steal hempen stalks from the fields where they grow, to convert them into horses, as the story goes.... such jocund and facetious spirits are said to sport themselves in the night by tumbling and fooling with servants and shepherds in country houses, pinching them black and blue, and leaving bread, butter, and cheese sometimes with them, which, if they refuse to eat, some mischief shall undoubtedly befall them by the means of these fairies; and many such have been taken away by the said spirits for a fortnight or a month together, being carried with them in chariots through the air, over hills and dales, rocks and precipices, till at last they have been found lying in some meadow or mountain, bereaved of their senses and commonly one of their members to boot. book iii, chap. xvi. it may not be omitted that certain wicked women ... being seduced by the illusion of devils, believe and profess that in the night-times they ride abroad with diana, the goddess of the pagans, or else with herodias, with an innumerable multitude, upon certain beasts, and pass over many countries and nations in the silence of the night, and do whatsoever those fairies or ladies command. book iv, chap. x. indeed your grandam's maids were wont to set a bowl of milk before him and his cousin, robin goodfellow, for grinding of malt or mustard, and sweeping the house at midnight; and you have also heard that he would chafe exceedingly, if the maid or goodwife of the house, having compassion of his nakedness, laid any clothes for him, besides his mess of white bread and milk which was his standing fee. for in that case he saith: what have we here? hemton hamton[1], here will i never more tread nor stampen. book v, chap. iii. "of a man turned into an ass, and returned again into a man, by one of bodin's witches: s. augustine's opinion thereof." (see p. 30.) it happened in the city of salamin in the kingdom of cyprus, where there is a good haven, that a ship loaden with merchandise stayed there for a short space. in the meantime many of the soldiers and mariners went to shore, to provide fresh victuals; among which number a certain englishman, being a sturdy young fellow, went to a woman's house, a little way out of the city, and not far from the sea-side, to see whether she had any eggs to sell. who, perceiving him to be a lusty young fellow, a stranger, and far from his country (so as, upon the loss of him, there would be the less miss or enquiry), she considered with herself how to destroy him; and willed him to stay there awhile, whilst she went to fetch a few eggs for him. but she tarried long, so as the young man called unto her desiring her to make haste; for he told her that the tide would be spent, and by that means his ship would be gone, and leave him behind. howbeit, after some detracting of time, she brought him a few eggs, willing him to return to her, if his ship were gone when he came. the young fellow returned towards his ship, but before he went aboard, he would needs eat an egg or twain to satisfy his hunger; and within short space he became dumb and out of his wits, as he afterwards said. when he would have entered into the ship, the mariners beat him back with a cudgel, saying, "what a murrain lacks the ass? whither the devil will this ass?" the ass, or young man--i cannot tell by which name i should term him--being many times repelled, and understanding their words that called him ass, considering that he could speak never a word and yet could understand everybody, he thought that he was bewitched by the woman at whose house he was. and therefore, when by no means he could get into the boat, but was driven to tarry and see her departure, being also beaten from place to place as an ass, he remembered the witch's words, and the words of his own fellows that called him ass, and returned to the witch's house; in whose service he remained by the space of three years, doing nothing with his hands all that while, but carried such burthens as she laid on his back; having only this comfort, that, although he were reputed an ass among strangers and beasts, yet that both this witch and all other witches knew him to be a man. after three years were passed over, in a morning betimes he went to town before his dame, who upon some occasion ... stayed a little behind. in the meantime being near to a church, he heard a little sacring-bell ring to the elevation of a morrow mass; and not daring to go into the church, lest he should have been beaten and driven out with cudgels, in great devotion he fell down in the churchyard upon the knees of his hinder legs, and did lift his forefeet over his head, as the priest doth hold the sacrament at the elevation. which prodigious sight when certain merchants of genoa espied, and with wonder beheld, anon cometh the witch with a cudgel in her hand, beating forth the ass. and because, as it hath been said, such kinds of witchcrafts are very usual in those parts, the merchants aforesaid made such means as both the ass and the witch were attached by the judge. and she, being examined and set upon the rack, confessed the whole matter, and promised that if she might have liberty to go home, she would restore him to his old shape; and being dismissed she did accordingly. so as notwithstanding they apprehended her again, and burned her; and the young man returned into his country with a joyful and merry heart. book vii, chap. ii. "know you this by the way, that heretofore robin goodfellow and hobgoblin were as terrible, and also as credible to the people, as hags and witches be now: and in time to come a witch will be as much derided and contemned, and as plainly perceived, as the illusion and knavery of robin goodfellow. and in truth, they that maintain walking spirits with their transformation, &c, have no reason to deny robin goodfellow, upon whom there hath gone as many and as credible tales as upon witches; saving that it hath not pleased the translators of the bible to call spirits by the name of robin goodfellow, as they have termed diviners, soothsayers, poisoners, and cozeners by the name of witches." book vii, chap. xv. "but certainly some one knave in a white sheet hath cozened and abused many thousands that way; specially when robin goodfellow kept such a coil in the country.... they [our mothers' maids] have so fraid us with bull-beggars, spirits, witches, urchins, elves, hags, fairies, satyrs, pans, fauns, sylens, kit with the canstick[2], tritons, centaurs, dwarfs, giants, imps, calkers, conjurors, nymphs, changelings, incubus, robin goodfellow, the spoorn, the mare, the man in the oak, the hell-wain, the fire-drake, the puckle, tom thumb, hobgoblin, tom tumbler, boneless, and other such beings, that we are afraid of our own shadows." book xiii, chap. xix. [to set an horse's or an ass's head on a man's neck and shoulders.] (see p. 30.) the words used in such case are uncertain, and to be recited at the pleasure of the witch or cozener. but at the conclusion of this, cut off the head of a horse or an ass (before they be dead, otherwise the virtue or strength thereof will be the less effectual), and make an earthen vessel of fit capacity to contain the same, and let it be filled with the oil and fat thereof, cover it close, and daub it over with loam; let it boil over a soft fire three days continually, that the flesh boiled may run into oil, so as the bare bones may be seen; beat the hair into powder, and mingle the same with the oil; and anoint the heads of the standers by, and they shall seem to have horses' or asses' heads. discourse upon devils and spirits, chap. xi. "the rabbins and, namely, rabbi abraham, writing upon the second of genesis, do say that god made the fairies, bugs, incubus, robin goodfellow, and other familiar or domestic spirits and devils on the friday; and being prevented with the evening of the sabbath, finished them not, but left them unperfect; and that therefore, that ever since they use to fly the holiness of the sabbath, seeking dark holes in mountains and woods, wherein they hide themselves till the end of the sabbath, and then come abroad to trouble and molest men." discourse, &c., chap. xxi. "_virunculi terrei_ are such as was robin goodfellow, that would supply the office of servants--specially of maids: as to make a fire in the morning, sweep the house, grind mustard and malt, draw water, &c.; these also rumble in houses, draw latches, go up and down stairs, &c.... there go as many tales upon this hudgin[3] in some parts of germany, as there did in england of robin goodfellow." * * * * * strange farlies strange farlies[1] fathers told of fiends and hags of hell; and how that circes, when she would, could skill of sorcery well; and how old thin-faced wives, that roasted crabs by night, did tell of monsters in their lives that now prove shadows light; and told what merlin spoke of world and times to come; but all that fire doth make no smoke, for in mine ear doth hum another kind of bee, that sounds a tune most strange, a trembling noise of words to me that makes my countenance change. of old hobgobling's guise, that walked like ghost in sheets, with maids that would not early rise for fear of bugs and sprites. some say the fairies fair did dance on bednall green, and fine familiars of the air did talk with men unseen. and oft in moonshine nights, when each thing draws to rest, was seen dumb shows and ugly sights that fearéd[2] every guest which lodgéd in the house; and where good cheer was great, hodgepoke would come and drink carouse and munch up all the meat. but where foul sluts did dwell, who used to sit up late, and would not scour the pewter well, there came a merry mate to kitchen or to hall, or place where sprites resort; then down went dish and platters all to make the greater sport. a further sport fell out when they to spoil did fall; rude robin goodfellow, the lout, would skim the milk-bowls all, and search the cream-pots too, for which poor milk-maid weeps. god wot what such mad guests will do when people soundly sleeps! . . . . . . these are but fables feigned, because true stories old in doubtful days are more disdained than any tale is told. thomas churchyard from _a handfull of gladsome verses_ (1592). * * * * * the mad merry pranks of robin good-fellow (to the tune of _dulcina_.) from oberon, in fairy land, the king of ghosts and shadows there, mad robin i, at his command, am sent to view the night-sports here. what revel rout is kept about, in every corner where i go, i will o'ersee and merry be, and make good sport, with ho, ho, ho! more swift than lightning can i fly about this airy welkin soon, and, in a minute's space, descry each thing that's done below the moon, there's not a hag or ghost shall wag, or cry, ware goblins! where i go, but robin i their feats will spy, and send them home, with ho, ho, ho! whene'er such wanderers i meet, as from their night-sports they trudge home; with counterfeiting voice i greet and call them on, with me to roam thro' woods, thro' lakes, thro' bogs, thro' brakes; or else, unseen, with them i go, all in the nick to play some trick and frolic it, with ho, ho, ho! sometimes i meet them like a man; sometimes an ox, sometimes a hound; and to a horse i turn me can, to trip and trot about them round. but if, to ride, my back they stride, more swift than wind away i go, o'er hedge and lands, thro' pools and ponds i whirry, laughing ho, ho, ho! when lads and lasses merry be, with possets and with junkets fine; unseen of all the company, i eat their cakes and sip their wine; and, to make sport, i sniff and snort; and out the candles i do blow: the maids i kiss; they shriek--who's this? i answer nought but ho, ho, ho! yet now and then, the maids to please, at midnight i card up their wool; and while they sleep and take their ease, with wheel to threads their flax i pull. i grind at mill their malt up still; i dress their hemp, i spin their tow, if any wake, and would me take, i wend me, laughing ho, ho, ho! when house or hearth doth sluttish lie, i pinch the maidens black and blue; the bed-clothes from the bed pull i, and lay them naked all to view. 'twixt sleep and wake, i do them take, and on the key-cold floor them throw: if out they cry, then forth i fly, and loudly laugh out ho, ho, ho! when any need to borrow ought, we lend them what they do require: and for the use demand we nought; our own is all we do desire. if to repay they do delay, abroad amongst them then i go, and, night by night, i them affright with pinchings, dreams, and ho, ho, ho! when lazy queans have nought to do, but study how to cog and lie; to make debate and mischief too, 'twixt one another secretly: i mark their gloze, and it disclose, to them whom they have wrongéd so: when i have done, i get me gone, and leave them scolding, ho, ho, ho! when men do traps and engines set in loop-holes, where the vermin creep, who from their folds and houses, get their ducks and geese, and lambs and sheep; i spy the gin, and enter in, and seem a vermin taken so; but when they there approach me near, i leap out laughing ho, ho, ho! by wells and rills, in meadows green, we nightly dance our heydeguys; and to our fairy king and queen we chant our moon-light minstrelsies. when larks 'gin sing, away we fling; and babes new-born steal as we go, and elf in bed we leave instead, and wend us laughing, ho, ho, ho! from hag-bred merlin's time have i thus nightly revell'd to and fro: and for my pranks men call me by the name of robin good-fellow. fiends, ghosts, and sprites, who haunt the nights, the hags and goblins do me know; and beldames old my feats have told; so _vale, vale_; ho, ho, ho! _a black-letter broadside, xviith cent._ * * * * * queen mab _satyr_ this is mab, the mistress fairy, that doth nightly rob the dairy, and can hunt or help the churning as she please without discerning. . . . . . . she that pinches country wenches if they rub not clean their benches, and with sharper nails remembers when they rake not up their embers; but if so they chance to feast her, in a shoe she drops a tester. . . . . . . this is she that empties cradles, takes out children, puts in ladles; trains forth midwives in their slumber, with a sieve the holes to number, and then leads them from her boroughs home through ponds and water-furrows. . . . . . . she can start our franklins' daughters, in her sleep, with shrieks and laughters, and on sweet st. anna's night feed them with a promised sight- some of husbands, some of lovers, which an empty dream discovers. ben jonson, masque of _a satyr_ (1603). * * * * * a proper new ballad, intituled the fairies' farewell: or god-a-mercy will (to be sung or whistled to the tune of the _meadow brow_ by the learned; by the unlearned, to the tune of _fortune_.) farewell rewards and fairies! good housewives, now you may say; for now foul sluts in dairies do fare as well as they; and though they sweep their hearths no less than maids were wont to do, yet who of late for cleanliness finds sixpence in her shoe? lament, lament old abbeys, the fairies' lost command; they did but change priests' babies; but some have changed your land; and all your children sprung from thence are now grown puritans, who live as changelings ever since for love of your demesnes. at morning and at evening both you merry were and glad, so little care of sleep or sloth these pretty ladies had. when tom came home from labour, or ciss to milking rose, then merrily, merrily went their tabour, and nimbly went their toes. witness those rings and roundelays of theirs, which yet remain, were footed in queen mary's days on many a grassy plain. but since of late elizabeth and later james came in, they never danced on any heath, as when the time hath bin. by which we note the fairies were of the old profession; their songs were _ave maries_, their dances were procession. but now, alas! they all are dead, or gone beyond the seas, or farther for religion fled, or else they take their ease. a tell-tale in their company they never could endure; and whoso kept not secretly their mirth, was punished sure: it was a just and christian deed to pinch such black and blue: o how the common-wealth doth [need][1] such justices as you! now they have left our quarters; a register they have who looketh to their charters, a man both wise and grave. an hundred of their merry pranks by one that i could name are kept in store; con twenty thanks to william for the same. * * * * * to william churne of staffordshire give laud and praises due, who every meal can mend your cheer with tales both old and true: to william all give audience, and pray ye for his noddle: for all the fairies evidence were lost, if it were addle. richard corbet (1582-1625), from _poetica stromata_ (1648) * * * * * the fairy queen come, follow, follow me, you fairy elves that be, which circle on the green, come follow me your queen; hand in hand let's dance around, for this place is fairy ground. when mortals are at rest, and snorting in their nest, unheard and unespied through keyholes we do glide: over tables, stools, and shelves. we trip it with our fairy elves. and if the house be foul, or platter, dish, or bowl, upstairs we nimbly creep and find the sluts asleep; there we pinch their arms and thighs; none escapes nor none espies. but if the house be swept, and from uncleanness kept, we praise the household maid and surely she is paid; for we do use, before we go, to drop a tester in her shoe. upon a mushroom's head our table we do spread; a corn of rye or wheat is manchet which we eat, pearly drops of dew we drink in acorn cups filled to the brink. the brains of nightingales with unctuous dew of snails between two nutshells stewed is meat that's easily chewed; and the beards of little mice do make a feast of wondrous price. on tops of dewy grass so nimbly do we pass, the young and tender stalk ne'er bends when we do walk; yet in the morning may be seen where we the night before have been. the grasshopper and fly serve for our minstrelsy. grace said, we dance awhile, and so the time beguile; and when the moon doth hide her head, the glow-worm lights us home to bed. from _the mysteries of love and eloquence_ (1658); with a preface signed e[dward] p[hillips]. * * * * * nymphidia: the court of fairy old chaucer doth of topas tell, mad rab'lais of pantagruel, a later third of dowsabel, with such poor trifles playing; others the like have laboured at, some of this thing and some of that, and many of they know not what, but that they must be saying. another sort there be, that will be talking of the fairies still, nor never can they have their fill, as they were wedded to them; no tales of them their thirst can slake, so much delight therein they take, and some strange thing they fain would make, knew they the way to do them. then since no muse hath been so bold, or of the later, or the old, those elvish secrets to unfold, which lie from others' reading, my active muse to light shall bring the court of that proud fairy king, and tell there of the revelling: jove prosper my proceeding! and thou, nymphidia, gentle fay, which, meeting me upon the way, these secrets didst to me bewray, which now i am in telling; my pretty, light, fantastic maid, i here invoke thee to my aid, that i may speak what thou hast said, in numbers smoothly swelling. this palace standeth in the air, by necromancy placed there, that it no tempests needs to fear, which way soe'er it blow it; and somewhat southward toward the noon, whence lies a way up to the moon, and thence the fairy can as soon pass to the earth below it. the walls of spiders' legs are made well mortised and finely laid; he was the master of his trade it curiously that builded; the windows of the eyes of cats, and for the roof, instead of slats, is covered with the skins of bats, with moonshine that are gilded. hence oberon him sport to make, their rest when weary mortals take, and none but only fairies wake, descendeth for his pleasure; and mab, his merry queen, by night bestrides young folks that lie upright[1] (in elder times, the mare that hight), which plagues them out of measure. hence shadows, seeming idle shapes, of little frisking elves and apes to earth do make their wanton scapes, as hope of pastime hastes them: which maids think on the hearth they see when fires well-near consumed be, there dancing hays[2] by two and three, just as their fancy casts them. these make our girls their sluttery rue, by pinching them both black and blue, and put a penny in their shoe the house for cleanly sweeping; and in their courses make that round in meadows and in marshes found, of them so called the fairy ground, of which they have the keeping. these when a child haps to be got which after proves an idiot when folk perceive it thriveth not, the fault therein to smother, some silly, doating brainless calf that understands things by the half, say that the fairy left this aulfe[3] and took away the other. but listen, and i shall you tell a chance in fairy that befell, which certainly may please some well in love and arms delighting, of oberon that jealous grew of one of his own fairy crew, too well, he feared, his queen that knew his love but ill requiting. pigwiggen[4] was this fairy knight, one wondrous gracious in the sight of fair queen mab, which day and night he amorously observed; which made king oberon suspect his service took too good effect, his sauciness and often checkt, and could have wished him starved[5]. pigwiggen gladly would commend some token to queen mab to send, if sea or land him aught could lend were worthy of her wearing; at length this lover doth devise a bracelet made of emmets' eyes, a thing he thought that she would prize, no whit her state impairing. and to the queen a letter writes, which he most curiously indites, conjuring her by all the rites of love, she would be pleased to meet him, her true servant, where they might, without suspect or fear, themselves to one another clear and have their poor hearts eased. "at midnight the appointed hour, and for the queen a fitting bower," quoth he, "is that fair cowslip flower on hipcut hill that bloweth; in all your train there's not a fay that ever went to gather may but she hath made it, in her way; the tallest there that groweth." when by tom thumb, a fairy page, he sent it, and doth him engage by promise of a mighty wage it secretly to carry; which done, the queen her maids doth call, and bids them to be ready all: she would go see her summer hall, she could no longer tarry. her chariot ready straight is made, each thing therein is fitting laid, that she by nothing might be stayed, for naught must be her letting; four nimble gnats the horses were, their harnesses of gossamere, fly cranion her charioteer upon the coach-box getting. her chariot of a snail's fine shell, which for the colours did excel, the fair queen mab becoming well, so lively was the limning; the seat the soft wool of the bee, the cover, gallantly to see, the wing of a pied butterflee; i trow 'twas simple trimming. the wheels composed of crickets' bones, and daintily made for the nonce; for fear of rattling on the stones with thistle-down they shod it; for all her maidens much did fear if oberon had chanced to hear that mab his queen should have been there, he would not have abode it. she mounts her chariot with a trice, nor would she stay for no advice, until her maids that were so nice to wait on her were fitted; but ran herself away alone, which when they heard, there was not one but hasted after to be gone, as she had been diswitted. hop and mop and drop so clear, pip and trip and skip that were to mab, their sovereign, ever dear, her special maids of honour; fib and tib and pink and pin, tick and quick and jill and jin, tit and nit and wap and win, the train that wait upon her. upon a grasshopper they got and, what with amble and with trot, for hedge nor ditch they spared not, but after her they hie them; a cobweb over them they throw, to shield the wind if it should blow; themselves they wisely could bestow lest any should espy them. but let us leave queen mab awhile (through many a gate, o'er many a stile, that now had gotten by this wile), her dear pigwiggen kissing; and tell how oberon doth fare, who grew as mad as any hare when he had sought each place with care and found his queen was missing. by grisly pluto he doth swear, he rent his clothes and tore his hair, and as he runneth here and there an acorn cup he greeteth, which soon he taketh by the stalk, about his head he lets it walk, nor doth he any creature balk, but lays on all he meeteth. the tuscan poet doth advance the frantic paladin of france,[6] and those more ancient do enhance alcides in his fury, and others ajax telamon, but to this time there hath been none so bedlam as our oberon, of which i dare assure ye. and first encount'ring with a wasp, he in his arms the fly doth clasp as though his breath he forth would grasp him for pigwiggen taking: "where is ny wife, thou rogue?" quoth he; "pigwiggen, she is come to thee; restore her, or thou diest by me!" whereat the poor wasp quaking, cries, "oberon, great fairy king, content thee, i am no such thing: i am a wasp, behold my sting!" at which the fairy started; when soon away the wasp doth go, poor wretch was never frighted so; he thought his wings were much too slow, o'erjoyed they so were parted. he next upon a glow-worm light (you must suppose it now was night), which, for her hinder part was bright, he took to be a devil, and furiously doth her assail for carrying fire in her tail; he thrasht her rough coat with his flail; the mad king feared no evil. "oh!" quoth the glow-worm, "hold thy hand, thou puissant king of fairy-land! thy mighty strokes who may withstand? hold, or of life despair i!" together then herself doth roll, and tumbling down into a hole, she seemed as black as any coal; which vext away the fairy. from thence he ran into a hive: amongst the bees he letteth drive, and down their combs begins to rive, all likely to have spoiled, which with their wax his face besmeared, and with their honey daubed his beard: it would have made a man afeared to see how he was moiled. a new adventure him betides; he met an ant, which he bestrides, and post thereon away he rides, which with his haste doth stumble, and came full over on her snout; her heels so threw the dirt about, for she by no means could get out, but over him doth tumble. and being in this piteous case, and all be-slurried head and face, on runs he in this wild-goose chase, as here and there he rambles; half blind, against a molehill hit, and for a mountain taking it, for all he was out of his wit yet to the top he scrambles. and being gotten to the top, yet there himself he could not stop, but down on th' other side doth chop, and to the foot came rumbling; so that the grubs, therein that bred, hearing such turmoil overhead, thought surely they had all been dead; so fearful was the jumbling. and falling down into a lake, which him up to the neck doth take. his fury somewhat it doth slake; he calleth for a ferry; where you may some recovery note, what was his club he made his boat, and in his oaken cup doth float, as safe as in a wherry. men talk of the adventures strange of don quishott, and of their change, through which he armed oft did range, of sancha pancha's travel; but should a man tell everything done by this frantic fairy king, and them in lofty numbers sing, it well his wits might gravel. scarce set on shore, but therewithal he meeteth puck, which most men call hobgoblin, and on him doth fall with words from frenzy spoken: "ho, ho,"[7] quoth hob, "god save thy grace! who drest thee in this piteous case? he thus that spoiled my sovereign's face, i would his neck were broken!" this puck seems but a dreaming dolt, still walking like a ragged colt, and oft out of a bush doth bolt, of purpose to deceive us; and leading us makes us to stray, long winter's nights, out of the way; and when we stick in mire and clay, hob doth with laughter leave us. "dear puck," quoth he, "my wife is gone: as e'er thou lov'st king oberon, let everything but this alone, with vengeance and pursue her; bring her to me alive or dead, or that vild[8] thief pigwiggen's head; that villain hath defiled my bed, he to this folly drew her." quoth puck, "my liege, i'll never lin[9], but i will thorough thick and thin, until at length i bring her in; my dearest lord, ne'er doubt it. thorough brake, thorough briar, thorough muck, thorough mire, thorough water, thorough fire; and thus goes puck about it." this thing nymphidia overheard, that on this mad king had a guard, not doubting of a great reward for first this business broaching; and through the air away doth go, swift as an arrow from the bow, to let her sovereign mab to know what peril was approaching. the queen, bound with love's powerful'st charm, sate with pigwiggen arm in arm; her merry maids that thought no harm, about the room were skipping; a humble bee, their minstrel, played upon his hautboy; every maid fit for this revels was arrayed, the hornpipe neatly tripping. in comes nymphidia, and doth cry, "my sovereign, for your safety fly, for there is danger but too nigh; i posted to forewarn you: the king hath sent hobgoblin out, to seek you all the fields about, and of your safety you may doubt if he but once discern you." when, like an uproar in a town, before them everything went down; some tore a ruff, and some a gown, 'gainst one another justling; they flew about like chaff i' th' wind; for haste some left their masks behind; some could not stay their gloves to find; there never was such bustling. forth ran they, by a secret way, into a brake that near them lay; yet much they doubted there to stay, lest hob should hap to find them; he had a sharp and piercing sight, all one to him the day and night; and therefore were resolved by flight to leave this place behind them. at length one chanced to find a nut, in th' end of which a hole was cut, which lay upon a hazel root, there scattered by a squirrel which out the kernel gotten had; when quoth this fay, "dear queen, be glad; let oberon be ne'er so mad, i'll set you safe from peril. "come all into this nut," quoth she, "come closely in; be ruled by me; each one may here a chooser be, for room ye need not wrastle: nor need ye be together heapt"; so one by one therein they crept, and lying down they soundly slept, and safe as in a castle. nymphidia, that this while doth watch, perceived if puck the queen should catch that he should be her over-match, of which she well bethought her; found it must be some powerful charm, the queen against him that must arm, or surely he would do her harm, for throughly he had sought her. and list'ning if she aught could hear, that her might hinder, or might fear, but finding still the coast was clear, nor creature had descried her; each circumstance and having scanned, she came thereby to understand puck would be with them out of hand; when to her charms she hied her. and first her fern-seed[10] doth bestow, the kernel of the mistletoe; and here and there as puck should go, with terror to affright him, she nightshade straws to work him ill, therewith her vervain and her dill, that hindreth witches of their will, of purpose to despite him. then sprinkles she the juice of rue, that groweth underneath the yew; with nine drops of the midnight dew, from lunary[11] distilling: the molewarp's brain mixed therewithal; and with the same the pismire's gall: for she in nothing short would fall, the fairy was so willing. then thrice under a briar doth creep, which at both ends was rooted deep, and over it three times she leap, her magic much availing; then on proserpina doth call, and so upon her spell doth fall, which here to you repeat i shall, not in one tittle failing. "by the croaking of the frog, by the howling of the dog, by the crying of the hog against the storm arising; by the evening curfew bell, by the doleful dying knell, o let this my direful spell, hob, hinder thy surprising! "by the mandrake's dreadful groans, by the lubrican's[12] sad moans, by the noise of dead men's bones in charnel-houses rattling; by the hissing of the snake, the rustling of the fire-drake[13], i charge thee thou this place forsake, nor of queen mab be prattling! "by the whirlwind's hollow sound, by the thunder's dreadful stound, yells of spirits underground, i charge thee not to fear us; by the screech-owl's dismal note, by the black night-raven's throat, i charge thee, hob, to tear thy coat with thorns, if thou come near us!" her spell thus spoke, she stept aside, and in a chink herself doth hide, to see thereof what would betide, for she doth only mind him: when presently she puck espies, and well she marked his gloating eyes, how under every leaf he pries, in seeking still to find them. but once the circle got within, the charms to work do straight begin, and he was caught as in a gin; for as he thus was busy, a pain he in his head-piece feels, against a stubbed tree he reels, and up went poor hobgoblin's heels; alas! his brain was dizzy! at length upon his feet he gets, hobgoblin fumes, hobgoblin frets; and as again he forward sets, and through the bushes scrambles, a stump doth trip him in his pace; down comes poor hob upon his face, and lamentably tore his case, amongst the briars and brambles. "a plague upon queen mab!" quoth he, "and all her maids where'er they be: i think the devil guided me, to seek her so provoked!" where stumbling at a piece of wood, he fell into a ditch of mud, where to the very chin he stood, in danger to be choked. now worse than e'er he was before, poor puck doth yell, poor puck doth roar, that waked queen mab, who doubted sore some treason had been wrought her: until nymphidia told the queen, what she had done, what she had seen, who then had well-near cracked her spleen with very extreme laughter. but leave we hob to clamber out, queen mab and all her fairy rout, and come again to have a bout with oberon yet madding: and with pigwiggen now distraught, who much was troubled in his thought, that he so long the queen had sought, and through the fields was gadding. and as he runs he still doth cry, "king oberon, i thee defy, and dare thee here in arms to try, for my dear lady's honour: for that she is a queen right good, in whose defence i'll shed my blood, and that thou in this jealous mood hast laid this slander on her." and quickly arms him for the field, a little cockle-shell his shield, which he could very bravely wield, yet could it not be pierced: his spear a bent[14] both stiff and strong, and well-near of two inches long: the pile was of a horse-fly's tongue, whose sharpness nought reversed. and puts him on a coat of mail, which was of a fish's scale, that when his foe should him assail, no point should be prevailing: his rapier was a hornet's sting: it was a very dangerous thing, for if he chanced to hurt the king, it would be long in healing. his helmet was a beetle's head, most horrible and full of dread, that able was to strike one dead, yet did it well become him; and for a plume a horse's hair which, being tossed with the air, had force to strike his foe with fear, and turn his weapon from him. himself he on an earwig set, yet scarce he on his back could get, so oft and high he did curvet, ere he himself could settle: he made him turn, and stop, and bound, to gallop, and to trot the round, he scarce could stand on any ground, he was so full of mettle. when soon he met with tomalin, one that a valiant knight had bin, and to king oberon of kin; quoth he, "thou manly fairy, tell oberon i come prepared, then bid him stand upon his guard; this hand his baseness shall reward, let him be ne'er so wary. "say to him thus, that i defy his slanders and his infamy, and as a mortal enemy do publicly proclaim him. withal that if i had mine own, he should not wear the fairy crown, but with a vengeance should come down, nor we a king should name him." this tomalin could not abide to hear his sovereign vilified; but to the fairy court him hied (full furiously he posted), with everything pigwiggen said: how title to the crown he laid, and in what arms he was arrayed, as how himself he boasted. 'twixt head and foot, from point to point, he told the arming of each joint, in every piece how neat and quaint, for tomalin could do it: how fair he sat, how sure he rid, as of the courser he bestrid, how managed, and how well he did; the king which listened to it, quoth he, "go, tomalin, with speed, provide me arms, provide my steed, and everything that i shall need; by thee i will be guided; to strait account call thou thy wit; see there be wanting not a whit, in everything see thou me fit, just as my foe's provided." soon flew this news through fairy-land, which gave queen mab to understand the combat that was then in hand betwixt those men so mighty: which greatly she began to rue, perceiving that all fairy knew, the first occasion from her grew of these affairs so weighty. wherefore attended with her maids, through fogs, and mists, and damps she wades, to proserpine the queen of shades, to treat that it would please her the cause into her hands to take, for ancient love and friendship's sake, and soon thereof an end to make, which of much care would ease her. a while there let we mab alone, and come we to king oberon, who, armed to meet his foe, is gone, for proud pigwiggen crying: who sought the fairy king as fast and had so well his journeys cast, that he arrived at the last, his puissant foe espying. stout tomalin came with the king, tom thumb doth on pigwiggen bring, that perfect were in everything to single fights belonging: and therefore they themselves engage to see them exercise their rage with fair and comely equipage, not one the other wronging. so like in arms these champions were, as they had been a very pair, so that a man would almost swear that either had been either; their furious steeds began to neigh, that they were heard a mighty way; their staves upon their rests they lay; yet, ere they flew together, their seconds minister an oath, which was indifferent to them both, that on their knightly faith and troth no magic them supplied; and sought them that they had no charms wherewith to work each other's harms, but came with simple open arms to have their causes tried. together furiously they ran, that to the ground came horse and man, the blood out of their helmets span, so sharp were their encounters; and though they to the earth were thrown, yet quickly they regained their own, such nimbleness was never shown, they were two gallant mounters. when in a second course again, they forward came with might and main, yet which had better of the twain, the seconds could not judge yet; their shields were into pieces cleft, their helmets from their heads were reft, and to defend them nothing left, these champions would not budge yet. away from them their staves they threw, their cruel swords they quickly drew, and freshly they the fight renew, they every stroke redoubled; which made proserpina take heed, and make to them the greater speed, for fear lest they too much should bleed, which wondrously her troubled. when to th' infernal styx she goes, she takes the fogs from thence that rose, and in a bag doth them enclose, when well she had them blended. she hies her then to lethe spring, a bottle and thereof doth bring, wherewith she meant to work the thing which only she intended. now proserpine with mab is gone unto the place where oberon and proud pigwiggen, one to one, both to be slain were likely: and there themselves they closely hide, because they would not be espied; for proserpine meant to decide the matter very quickly. and suddenly unties the poke, which out of it sent such a smoke, as ready was them all to choke, so grievous was the pother; so that the knights each other lost, and stood as still as any post; tom thumb nor tomalin could boast themselves of any other. but when the mist 'gan somewhat cease proserpina commandeth peace; and that a while they should release each other of their peril; "which here," quoth she, "i do proclaim to all in dreadful pluto's name, that as ye will eschew his blame, you let me hear the quarrel: "but here yourselves you must engage (somewhat to cool your spleenish rage. your grievous thirst and to assuage) that first you drink this liquor, which shall your understanding clear, as plainly shall to you appear; those things from me that you shall hear, conceiving much the quicker." this lethe water, you must know, the memory destroyeth so, that of our weal, or of our woe, is all remembrance blotted; of it nor can you ever think; for they no sooner took this drink, but naught into their brains could sink of what had them besotted. king oberon forgotten had that he for jealousy ran mad, but of his queen was wondrous glad, and asked how they came thither: pigwiggen likewise doth forget that he queen mab had ever met, or that they were so hard beset, when they were found together. nor neither of them both had thought that e'er they had each other sought, much less that they a combat fought, but such a dream were loathing: tom thumb had got a little sup, and tomalin scarce kissed the cup, yet had their brains so sure locked up, that they remembered nothing. queen mab and her light maids, the while, amongst themselves do closely smile, to see the king caught with this wile, with one another jesting: and to the fairy court they went with mickle joy and merriment, which thing was done with good intent: and thus i left them feasting. * * * * * notes on texts _the legend of pyramus and thisbe._ see p. 31. [1] p. 73, l. 12. _let_, hinder, prevent. [2] p. 74, l. 18. _vouching safe_, vouchsafing. [3] p. 75, l. 4. _parget_, plaster, roughcast. [4] p. 78, l. 10. _stound_, position. [5] p. 79, l. 1. _meint_, mixed. [6] p. 79, l. 19. _belyve_, immediately. [7] p. 80, l. 5. _sicker_, sure, certain. [8] p. 80, l. 11. _bespect_, speckled. * * * * _robin good-fellow._ see pp. 39, 63. the text here given is that of the reprint of the 1628 edition, edited for the percy society by j. payne collier in 1841. the original black-letter tract, there described as being "in the library of lord francis egerton, m.p.," is still in that collection, which is now known as the bridgewater house library. collier's introduction is characteristic; it contains a good deal of correct information, and an interesting note based on forgeries of his own in henslowe's _diary_. [1] p. 81, l. 20. _long-tails._ cf, fuller's _worthies_, kent (1811), i. 486: "it happened in an english village where saint austin was preaching, that the pagans therein did beat and abuse both him and his associates, opprobriously tying fish-tails to their backsides; in revenge whereof an impudent author relateth ... how such appendants grew to the hind-parts of all that generation."--see murray, _n.e.d._ s.v. long-tail. the earliest reference is to moryson's _itinerary_, 1617. "kentish-tayld" occurs in nashe's _strange news_, 1592, sig. e 4. [2] p. 84, l. 22. _snite_, snipe, [3] p. 88, l. 23. _presently_, immediately. [4] p. 90, l. 11. _ho, ho, hoh!_ this is robin's traditional laugh. cf. the refrain of the broadside, p. 144. [5] p. 93, l. 19. _bolt_, sift, pass through a sieve. [6] p. 95, l. 5. _himpen, hampen._ cf. "hemton hamton" in scot's account of robin, p. 135. [7] p. 97, l. 18. _night-raven,_ proverbially a bird of ill-omen. [8] p. 98, l. 7. _starkled_, stiffened. a dialect word, still in use. [9] p. 98, l. 22. _quills_, spools or "bottoms" on which weavers' thread is wound. [10] p. 101, l. 8. _the tune of watton town's end_. see chappell's _popular music_, 218-20. [11] p. 105, l. 18. _bombasting_, puffing up, frothing. [12] p. 106, l. 1. _obreon_. the 1639 edition spells the name in the ordinary way, but it may be noted that the pepysian copy of the broadside ballad (p. 144), begins- "from obreon in fairyland." [13] p. 108, l. 16. _the tune of what care i how fair she be?_ this is the tune to george wither's famous- "shall i wasting in despair die because a woman's fair?" see chappell's _popular music_, 315. [14] p. 109, l. 5. _the tune of the spanish pavin_. (pavin = pavan.) see chappell, op. cit., 240. [15] p. 110, l. 13. _the tune of the jovial tinker_. see chappell, op. cit., 187. [16] p. 110, l. 25. _ax_ = ask. the form "ax" was in use till the end of the sixteenth century, and continues in dialect. [17] p. 111, l. 13. _the tune of broom_. see chappell, op. cit., 458; but this song does not fit the metre. * * * * _the romance of thomas of erceldoune._ (fytte i.) see pp. 45-7. in preparing the text, i have reduced in as simple a manner as possible the fifteenth-century spelling to modern forms. dr. j.a.h. murray's parallel texts (see note on p. 46) have been consulted, but mainly i have followed the oldest of them--that of the thornton ms. in lincoln cathedral library. the footnotes explain all words save those that are or ought to be familiar to every reader. [1] l. 1. _endris_, last. [2] l. 6. _meaned_, moaned. [3] l. 7. _berèd_, sounded. the woodwale is some kind of wood-bird. [4] l. 14. _wrable and ivry_, ? wriggle and twist, _i.e._ in the attempt to describe her. [5] l. 17. see p. 54. [6] _swilk_, such. [7] l. 21. _roelle-bone;_ a commonplace in early poetry, as the material for saddles; meaning unknown. [8] l. 24. _crapotee_, toad-stone. [9] l. 32. _overbegone_, overlaid. [10] l. 33. _paytrell_ = poitrail, breast-leather of a horse; _iral_ (?). [11] l. 34. _orpharè_ = orferrie, goldsmith's work. [12] l. 38. _raches_, dogs. [13] l. 39. _halse_, neck. [14] l. 40. _flane_, arrow. [15] l. 43. see pp. 46-7 and note. [16] l. 45. _but-if,_ unless. [17] l. 48. for an elaborate investigation of the circumstances concerning the _eildon tree_, see the special section in murray's edition. [18] l. 49. _rathely_, quickly. [19] l. 63. _fee_, beasts, cattle. [20] l. 71. _sekerly_, truly. [21] l. 79. _ware_, worse. [22] l. 86. _byrde_, bride. [23] l. 89. _stead_, place. [24] l. 98. _duleful_, painful. [25] l. 103. _gone_ = go (old infinitive). [26] l. 104. _middle-earth_ = earth, the middle region in the old northern cosmogony. [27] l. 107. thomas is here addressing the virgin. [28] l. 111. _beteach_, entrust, hand over to. [29] l. 114. _dernè_, secret. [30] l. 117. _mountenance_, space. [31] l. 121. _herbere_, garden. [32] l. 126. _bigging,_ building. [33] l. 127. _papejoys_, popinjays, parrots. [34] ll. 131-6. on the danger of eating fairy apples, see p. 53. [35] l. 137. _hight_, command. [36] l. 141. _hight_ (ms. _hye_), ? pleasure. [37] l. 143. _pay_, please. [38] l. 145 et sqq. see p. 46. [39] l. 145. _fair_, pronounced as two syllables. [40] l. 150. _rise_, brushwood, undergrowth. [41] l. 155. _teen and tray_, pain and trouble. [42] l. 167. _me were lever_, i had rather. [43] l. 168. _or that_, ere that, before that. [44] l. 175. _dess_, daïs. [45] l. 183. _main and mood_, might and main. [46] l. 188. _kneeland_ = kneeling. cf. l. 191. [47] l. 189. _fand_, found. [48] l. 190. _sawtery_ = psaltery. [49] l. 191. _ribib_, rebeck, lute. [50] l. 191. _gangand_ = going. [51] l. 196. _store_, plentiful. [52] l. 199. _brittened_ = brittled, cut up (the deer) [53] l. 208. this sudden and momentary change to the first person is found in all the older mss. see p. 47. [54] l. 209. _thee buse_--it behoves thee. cf. l. 234. [55] l. 213. _cheer_, look, face. [56] ll. 219-24. see p. 54; also sir walter scott's introduction to the ballad of _the young tamlane_, in _the minstrelsy of the scottish border_. [57] l. 220. _skill_, reason. [58] l. 221. _to-morn,_ in the morning. [59] l. 223. _hend_, noble, mighty. [60] l. 226. _hethen_ = hence. cf. sithen = since. [61] l. 228. _rede_, advise. [62] l. 232. four lines of the mss. omitted here. [63] l. 234. _buse_. see note on l. 209. [64] l. 235. fyttes ii and iii are wholly concerned with the prophecies, and have nothing to do with the story of thomas. * * * * _scot's discovery of witchcraft._ [1] p. 135, l. 13. (book iv, chap, x.) _hemton hamton._ cf. "himpen hampen" in _robin good-fellow,_ and note, p. 189. [2] p. 138, l. 20. (book vii, chap, xv.) _kit with the canstick._ christopher-with-the-candlestick is another name for jack-o'-lantern. _calkers_ = diviners. for _spoorn_, see wright, _dialect dictionary_, s.v. [3] p. 140, l. 8. (discourse, chap. xxi.) _hudgin_ is more usually spelled hodeken, the german familiar fairy. cf. the french hugon, a bugbear used to frighten children. * * * * _strange farlies._ p. 141. this extract from churchyard was first cited by e.k. chambers in his edition of _m.n.d._ in the _warwick shakespeare_. [1] _farlies_, marvels. [2] _fearéd_, frightened. * * * * _the mad merry pranks of robin good-fellow._ p. 144. this broadside is found in various editions in the larger collections (roxburghe coll., i. 230; pepys, i. 80; also in the bagford); the text here given is percy's collation (as printed in his _reliques_) of one or two of the above. the tune of _dulcina_ was famous; it may be seen in chappell's _popular music_, 142. * * * * _the fairies' farewell._ [1] p. 153, l. 11. [_need_]. _poetica stromata_ reads _want_. * * * * _the fairy queen._ p. 155. the poem was given by percy in his _reliques_ from _the mysteries of love and eloquence_, a curious book of which the preface is signed e.p.; the british museum catalogue attributes these initials to edward phillips, the nephew of john milton. but rimbault pointed out that this song occurs in a tract of 1635, _a description of the king and queen of the fairies_, attributed to robert herrick; a single copy of this pamphlet is known, and is in the bodleian library. * * * * _nymphidia._ p. 158. michael drayton's fairy-poem was first published in 1627, and perhaps owes a little of its charm to shakespeare's play, though not so much as drayton's sonnets to those of the elder poet. [1] p. 160. _upright_, flat on the back. this is the older meaning, which drayton would find in chaucer. [2] _hays_, dances. cf. _heydeguys_, p. 148. [3] p. 161. _aulfe_. cf. "ouphs," _merry wives of windsor,_ v. v. [4] _pigwiggen_. "piggy-widden" is a west-country dialect term, meaning a little white pig, used as an endearment for the youngest of a family. [5] p. 162. _starved_, i.e. killed. [6] p. 166. _the tuscan poet_, ariosto; _the frantic paladin,_ orlando furioso. [7] p. 170. "_ho, ho._" see note (p. 189) on _robin goodfellow_. [8] _vild_, an old form of "vile." [9] _lin_, stop. [10] p. 174. _fern-seed._ a very common superstition, which still survives, is that the seeds of the fern have power to confer invisibility. [11] _lunary,_ a name given to several plants, here probably moonwort. it was supposed to open locks. [12] p. 175. _lubrican_, the name of an irish pigmy sprite, otherwise called _leprechaun_. [13] _fire-drake,_ a fiery dragon. the word also meant a meteor. [14] p. 178. _bent_, grass-stalk. * * * * * index aegeus, 12 aegles, 9 aethra, 9 alberich, 36 alcmena, 9 _amazonide_, 13 _anelida and arcite_, 13 antiopa, 9-10 apuleius, 30 arcite, 12-25 ariadne, 9 aristotle, 12 arthur, king, 44, 48, 57 arthurian cycle, 57-8 auberon, 35 avalon, 43 ballads: _tam lin_, 38, 53 _thomas the rhymer_, 46-7 _king orfeo_, 52 boccaccio, 12-14 bodin, 30 bottom, 29-30 breton lays, 54-5 chambers, e.k., 9, 24, 40, 64 characters, 4: _theseus and hippolyta,_ 9-11; _egeus, philostrate, lysander, demetrius, helena, and hermia_, 12; _bottom and his comrades_, 29; _oberon_, 35-6; _titania_, 36; _puck_, 37-40 chaucer, 9, 10, 12-14, 22-5, 39, 58 demetrius, 12, 25 _demonology_, 37 diana, 36-7 _discovery of witchcraft_, 29-30, 36, 39, 133-140 eddic lays, 42 edwardes, r., 22 egeus, 12 elf-land: _see_ fairy-land. emelye (emilia), 12, 14-22 emetreus, 19, 21, 25 eochaid, 55-7 etain, 55-7 eurydice, 49-50 _fairie queen_, 36, 39 fairies, 35, 41, 44, 62-6. see also under _king_ and _queen_. fairy-land, 35, 46, 55-7, 59 fairy-lore: sleeping under trees, 53; the fiend's tithe, 53-4; white horses, 54; horns, 62; hunt, 62 fates, 42 fay, 41 fletcher, john, 23 golding, a., 31 gollancz, prof., 32 goodfellow, robin, 37-40, 63, 144-8 goodfellow, robin, tract, 39, 81-121 gower, john, 41 greene, robert, 12, 36 halpin, rev. n.j., 66-7 helena, 12 henslowe's _diary_, 22-3 hercules, 9-10 hermia, 12 hippodamia, 9 hippolyta, 9-11 _huon of bordeaux_, 35-6, 39, 44, 60-2 james i, 36 _james iv_, 36 king of fairies, 35-6, 51, 55 kittredge, prof., 55 _knightes tale_, 11-14, 24-5 " analysis, 14-22 _launfal_, 47-9 _legend of good women_, 13, 31 ligurge, 19, 21, 25 _love's labour's lost_, 3 lysander, 12, 25 lysidice, 9 mab, queen, 37, 64, 149-150 _malleus maleficarum_, 30 marie de france, 47 massinger, philip, 23 may, observance of, 24 _merchant of venice_, 2 _metamorphoses_, 31,36 mider, 55-6 _midsummer-night's dream_: date, 1-2; character, 2-3; three component plots, 4; main (sentimental) plot, 9-25; grotesque plot and interlude, 29-32; fairy plot, 35-66 morgan le fay, 43, 57 nashe, thomas, 12, 40-1 norns, 42 north, lord: plutarch's _life of theseus_, 9, 12 nutt, alfred, 41 _nymphidia_, 158-187 oberon, 35-6. his vision, 66-8 ogier the dane, 43 _orpheo_, 49-52 orpheus, 49-50 ovid, 31, 36 palamon, 12-25 _palamon and arcite_, 22-3 _palladis tamia_, 1 pelops, 9 perrault, 35 philostrate, 12, 24 pirithous, 16 pittheus, 9 plutarch, 9, 12 pluto, 36 proserpine, 36 puck, 37-40, 64 pyramus, 29, 31-2, 73-80 queen of fairies, 36-7, 45, 49 romances (metrical): _thomas of erceldoune_, 45-7, 122-132; _sir launfal_, 47-9; _sir (king) orpheo_, 49-52 saxo grammaticus, 42 scot, reginald, 29-30, 36, 39 spenser, edmund, 36, 39 statius, 13, 15 subterranean descents, 44 superstition (modern), 31 _tempest_, 3 _teseide_, 13-14 _thebais_, 13 theseus, 9-11 thisbe, 29, 31-2, 73-80 thomas of erceldoune, 45-6, 122-32 titania, 36 _troilus and criseyde_, 14 tuatha dé danann, 59, 65 _two gentlemen of verona_, 2 _two noble kinsmen_, 23, 25 witches, 31 * * * * * _richard clay & sons, limited, london and bungay_. 