oorway. And silent as shadows there
come dancing out, two by two, two girls and two youths. The
first girl is dressed in white satin and jewels; and the first
youth in black velvet. The second girl is in rags, and a shawl;
and the second youth in shirt and corduroys. They dance
gravely, each couple as if in a world apart.

SEELCHEN. [Whispering] In the mountains all dance together. Do they
never change partners?

LAMOND. How could they, little one? Those are rich, these poor.
But see!

A CORYBANTIC COUPLE come dancing forth. The girl has bare limbs.
a flame-coloured shift, and hair bound with red flowers; the
youth wears a panther-skin. They pursue not only each other.
but the other girls and youths. For a moment all is a furious
medley. Then the Corybantic Couple vanish into the Inn, and the
first two couples are left, slowly, solemnly dancing, apart from
each other as before.

SEELCHEN. [Shuddering] Shall I one day dance like that?

The Youth of THE WINE HORN appears again beneath the lamp. He
strikes a loud chord; then as SEELCHEN moves towards that sound
the lamp goes out; there is again only blue shadow; but the
couples have disappeared into the Inn, and the doorway has grown
dark.

SEELCHEN. Ah! What I do not like, he will not let me see.

LAMOND. Will you not come, then, little soul?

SEELCHEN. Always to dance?

LAMOND: Not so!

THE SHUTTERS of the houses are suddenly thrown wide. In a
lighted room on one aide of the Inn are seen two pale men and a
woman, amongst many clicking machines. On the other side of the
Inn, in a forge, are visible two women and a man, but half
clothed, making chains.

SEELCHEN. [Recoiling from both sights, in turn] How sad they look
--all! What are they making?

In the dark doorway of the Inn a light shines out, and in it is
seen a figure, visible only from the waist up, clad in
gold-cloth studded with jewels, with a flushed complacent face,
holding in one hand a glass of golden wine.

SEELCHEN. It is beautiful. What is it?

LAMOND. Luxury.

SEELCHEN. What is it standing on? I cannot see.

Unseen, THE WINE HORN'S mandolin twangs out.

LAMOND. For that do not look, little soul.

SEELCHEN. Can it not walk? [He shakes his head] Is that all they
make here with their sadness?

But again the mandolin