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ROBIN
I had, almost. If marriage make the moons Fly, as this month has flown, we shall be old And grey in our graves before we know it.
I wish that we could chain old Father Time.
MARIAN
And break his gla.s.s into ten thousand pieces.
ROBIN
And drown his cruel scythe ten fathom deep, Under the bright blue sea whence Love was born:
MARIAN
Ah, but we have not parted all this month More than a garden's breadth, an arrow's flight: Time will be dead till you come back again.
Four hours of absence make four centuries!
Do you remember how the song goes, Robin, That bids true lovers not to grieve at parting Often? for Nature gently severs them thus, Training them up with kind and tender art, For the great day when they must part for ever.
ROBIN
Do you believe it, Marian?
MARIAN
No; for love Buried beneath the dust of life and death, Would wait for centuries of centuries, Ages of ages, until G.o.d remembered, And, through that perishing cloud-wrack, face looked up Once more to loving face.
ROBIN
Your hope--and mine!
Is not a man's poor memory, indeed, A daily resurrection? Your hope--and mine!
MARIAN
And all the world's at heart! I do believe it.
ROBIN
And I--if only that so many souls Like yours have died believing they should meet Again, lovers and children, little children!
G.o.d will not break that trust. I have found my heaven Again in you; and, though I stumble still, Your small hand leads me thro' the darkness, up And onward, to the heights I dared not see, And dare not even now; but my head bows Above your face; I see them in your eyes.
Love, point me onward still!
[_He takes her in his arms._]
Good-bye! Good-bye!
MARIAN
Come back, come back, before the masque begins!
ROBIN
Ay, or a little later--never fear: You'll not so easily lose me.
MARIAN
I shall count The minutes!
ROBIN
Why, you're trembling!
MARIAN
Yes, I am foolish.
This is the first small parting we have had; But--you'll be back ere dusk?
ROBIN
[_Laughing._]
Ah, do you think That chains of steel could hold me, sweet, from you, With those two heavenly eyes to call me home, Those lips to welcome me? Good-bye!
MARIAN
Good-bye!
[_He goes hurriedly out. She looks after him for a moment, then suddenly calls._]
Robin! Ah, well, no matter now--too late!
[_She stands looking after him._]
SCENE II. _Sherwood Forest: dusk. Outside the cave, as in the second act. SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF runs quickly across the glade, followed by PUCK._
PUCK
Shadow-of-a-Leaf! Shadow-of-a-Leaf! Shadow-of-a-Leaf!
Don't dance away like that; don't hop; don't skip Like that, I tell you! I'll never do it again, I promise. Don't be silly now! Come here; I want to tell you something. Ah, that's right.
Come, sit down here upon this bank of thyme "While I thine amiable ears"--Oh, no, Forgive me, ha! ha! ha!
SHADOW-OF-A-LEAF
Now, Master Puck, You'll kindly keep your word! A foxglove spray In the right hand is deadlier than the sword That mortals use, and one resounding thwack Applied to your slim fairyhood's green limbs Will make it painful, painful, very painful, Next time your worship wishes to sit down Cross-legged upon a mushroom.
PUCK
Ha! ha! ha!
Poor Shadow-of-a-Leaf!