HANS the Butcher
My Iambs,--my lambs!
[AXEL reenters, crestfallen]
AXEL the Smith
'Tis naught--but Barbara
_His--his_!
[Shaking his fist at the house of Jacobus.
PETER the Cobbler
[calling]
Jacobus!
[The others are stricken with disappointment.
HANS the Butcher
Wife,--'t is none of ours.
AXEL the Smith
Let him snore on!--The only man would rather
Sleep late than meet his only child again!
PETER the Cobbler
[deprecatingly]
No man may parley with the gifts of Fortune!
[Knocking on the door]
Jacobus!
[Enter, at the rear, with a straggling crowd, BARBARA and MICHAEL,
both radiant and resolute. She wears the long green cloak over
her bridal array.
JACOBUS appears in his doorway, night-capped and fur-gowned,
shrinking from the hostile crowd. The people murmur.
CROWD
( Barbara!--She that was bewitched!
( And who's the man? Is it the Piper? No!
( No, no--some stranger. Barbara! Barbara's home;--
( He never gave her up!--Who is the man?
JACOBUS
My daughter! 'Tis my daughter,--found--restored!
Oh, heaven is with us!
ALL
[sullenly]
Ah!
JACOBUS
Child, where have you been?
ALL
Ay, where, Jacobus?
[He is dismayed.]
JACOBUS
Who is this man?--Come hither.
BARBARA
[without approaching him, lifting her face clearly]
Good-morning to you, father! We are wed.
Michael,--shall I go hither?
[The townsfolk are amazed.
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