KURT and JACOBUS, still whirling, cry,--
JACOBUS, KURT
( Yes, yes!--yes, yes!--Let go--let go--
( No, no!--I will not--No! . . . No
[Exeunt left, dancing.
OTHERS
( Keep time, keep time! Have mercy!--Time!
( Oh, let me--go!--Let go--let go!
( Yes, yes--Yes, yes--No, no--no--no!
[BARBARA appears, pale and beautiful;--richly dressed in white,
with flowing locks. She is wan and exhausted.--The dance-mania,
as it seizes her, makes her circle slowly and dazedly with a
certain pitiful silliness. The nuns and monks accompanying her
point in horror. But they, too, dance off with each other,
willy-nilly,--like leaves in a tempest. BARBARA is left alone,
still circling slowly. The piping sounds softer. She staggers
against a tree, and keeps on waving her hands and turning her head,
vaguely, in time.
MICHAEL looks forth from the well; then climbs out and approaches her.
MICHAEL
She is so beautiful,--how dare, I tell her?
My heart, how beautiful! The blessed saint! . . .
Fear nothing, fairest Lady.--You are saved.
[She looks at him unseeingly, and continues to dance.--He holds
out his arms to stop her.
Pray you, the danger's gone. Pray you, take breath!
Poor, shining dove,--I would not hold thee here,
Against thy wish.--'Tis Michael, the sword-eater.
[The piping ceases.]
BARBARA
[murmuring]
Yes, yes--I must--I must--I must.
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