Then we shall wait for him all night.

But, Minstrel, where have we got to wait for him?

_Minstrel_

Before that cave, from whence the stream of water comes flowing
out.

Which way did he go to get there?

The darkness there is like a dark sword.

_Minstrel_

He followed the sound of the night-bird's wings.

Why did you not go with him?

_Minstrel_

He left me behind to give you hope.

When did he go?

_Minstrel_

In the first hour of the watch.

Now the third hour has passed, I think. The air is chilly.

I dreamt that three women, with their hair hanging loose----

Oh, leave off your dream-women. I am sick of your dreams.

Everything appears darkly ominous. I didn't notice before the
hooting of the owl. But now----

Do you hear that dog whining on the far bank of the river?

It seems as though a witch were riding upon him and lashing him.

Surely, if it had been possible, Chandra would have come back by
now.

How I wish this night were over.

Do you hear the woman's cry?

Oh, the women, the women. They are ever crying and weeping. But
they cannot turn those back, who must go forward.

It is getting unbearable to sit still like this. Men imagine all
sorts of things when they sit still. Let us go also. As soon as
we are started on our way fear will leave us.

But who will show us the way?

There is the blind Minstrel.

What do you say, Minstrel? Can you show us the way?

_Minstrel_

Yes.

But we can hardly believe you. How can you find out the path by
simply singing?

If Chandra never comes back, you shall.

We never knew that we loved Chandra so intensely. We made light
of him all these days.

When we are in the playing mood, we become so intent on the play,
that we neglect the playmate.

But, if he once comes back, we shall never neglect him any more.

I am afraid that we have often given him pain.

Yet his love rose above all that. We never knew how beautiful he
was, when we could see him every day.

(_They sing._)

_When there was light in my world
You stood outside my eyes.
Now that there is none,
You come into my heart.
When there were dolls for me, I played;
You smiled and watched from the door.
Now that the dolls have crumbled to dust,
You come and sit by me.
And I have only my heart for my music,
When my lute-strings have broken._

That Minstrel sits so still and silent. I don't like it.

He looks omi