Seelchen. [Releasing herself] Poor heart—­I am gone!

Lamond.  It is dark. [He covers his face with his cloak].

Then as Seelchen reaches the Shepherd of the cow Horn, there is blown a long note of a pipe; the scene falls back; and there rises a far, continual, mingled sound of Cowbells, and Flower Bells, and Pipes.

SCENE IV

The scene slowly brightens with the misty flush of dawn.  Seelchen stands on a green alp, with all around, nothing but blue sky.  A slip of a crescent moon is lying on her back.  On a low rock sits a brown faced goatherd blowing on a pipe, and the four Flower-children are dancing in their shifts of grey white. and blue, rose-pink, and burnt-gold.  Their bells are ringing. as they pelt each other with flowers of their own colours; and each in turn, wheeling, flings one flower at Seelchen, who puts them to her lips and eyes.

Seelchen.  The dew! [She moves towards the rock] Goatherd!

     But the flowers encircle him; and when they wheel away he has
     vanished.  She turns to the flowers, but they too vanish.  The
     veils of mist are rising.

Seelchen.  Gone! [She rubs her eyes; then turning once more to the rock, sees Felsman standing there, with his arms folded] Thou!

Felsman.  So thou hast come—­like a sick heifer to be healed.  Was it good in the Town—­that kept thee so long?

Seelchen.  I do not regret.

Felsman.  Why then return?

Seelchen.  I was tired.

Felsman.  Never again shalt thou go from me!

Seelchen. [Mocking] With what wilt thou keep me?

Felsman. [Grasping her] Thus.

Seelchen.  I have known Change—­I am no timid maid.

Felsman. [Moodily] Aye, thou art different.  Thine eyes are hollow —­thou art white-faced.

Seelchen. [Still mocking] Then what hast thou here that shall keep me?

Felsman.  The sun.

Seelchen.  To burn me.

Felsman.  The air.

     There is a faint wailing of wind.

Seelchen.  To freeze me.

Felsman.  The silence.

     The noise of the wind dies away.

Seelchen.  Yes, it is lonely.

Felsman.  Wait!  And the flowers shall dance to thee.

     And to a ringing of their bells.  The flowers come dancing;
     till, one by one, they cease, and sink down, nodding, falling
     asleep.

Seelchen.  See!  Even they grow sleepy here!

Felsman.  I will call the goats to wake them.