PAN & THE 
 YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 by MAURICE HEWL E TT 
 
<? 
 
 University of California • Berkeley 
 
 Gift of 
 THE HEARST CORPORATION 
 
Hearst Memorial Library^ 
 
 Case No shelf No. 1L~X>C 
 
 Drawer No Inventory No. %2T7<£> 
 
 •'NOT TO SE REMOVED FROM LIBRARY 
 
 WITHOUT PROPER AUTHORITY.'* 
 
 PROPERTY OF HEARST CORP, 
 
Pan and the Young Shepherd 
 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 EARTHWORK OUT OF TUSCANY. Second Edition. 
 THE MASQUE OF DEAD FLORENTINES. 
 SONGS AND MEDITATIONS. 
 THE FOREST LOVERS : A Romance. Second Edition. 
 
PAN 
 
 AND THE YOUNG 
 
 SHEPHERD 
 
 A PASTORAL 
 
 IN TWO ACTS 
 
 BY 
 
 MAURICE HEWLETT 
 
 JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD 
 LONDON AND NEW YORK 1898 
 
 " 
 
Copyright in America 
 All rights reserved 
 
THIS BOOK 
 
 IN ALL LOVE AND HONOUR 
 
 TO 
 
 H. B. H. 
 
 What I have is yours ; 
 What I do is through you. 
 Tafy you the best of me 
 To hearten the rest of me. 
 
<PE%SOWLS 
 
 GERON, an old Shepherd, Grandfather of Neanias. 
 
 NEANIAS, a young Shepherd. 
 
 BALKIS, his Mother. 
 
 TEUCER, 1 
 
 MOPSUS, y Rustics. 
 
 SPHORX, J 
 
 MERLA, a Country Girl. 
 
 AGLAE, 
 
 EROTION, 
 
 SITYS, 
 
 GEERNA, 
 
 PHCENO, 
 
 DRYAS, 
 
 ADORA, 
 
 PAN 
 
 Daughters of the Eaith. 
 
SQES^E 
 
 Pastoral Country : Champney Valtort in Pascency, and the 
 Hills about it. 
 
 thme 
 
 What you will. First A& August, Second A61 November. 
 The last scene Epiphany Eve. 
 
ACT THE FIRST 
 
And universal Pan, 'tis said was there, 
 
 And though none saw him — through the adamant 
 
 Of the deep mountains, through the trackless air, 
 
 And through those living spirits, like a want 
 
 He pass'd out of his everlasting lair, 
 
 Where the quick heart of the great world doth pant. 
 
 The Witch of Atlas. 
 
 Fortunatus et Hie deos qui novit agrestes, 
 Panaque, Silvanumque senem, Nymphasque sorores. 
 
 Ecl. 8. 
 
ACT THE FIRST 
 
 Neanias wanders in a wi/d y 
 Earth's daughters bid him stay; 
 Agla'e calleth without voice y 
 He fysseth cold away. 
 
 A sheep/old in a valley. August night. 
 Geron and Neanias by a wood fire. 
 
 Geron 
 
 OY, boy, wilt thou be a boy for 
 ever ? 
 
 Neanias 
 
 Like enough, grandfather, if I never see 
 the world. 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Geron 
 
 Thou talkest as if the world were full of 
 teething-powder. It hath none so simple as 
 thou canst win for thyself. Thou sittest with 
 thy chin to thy naked knees reading runes in 
 the embers, and thinkest the world flows wi' 
 meat and drink. It hath as much as this 
 valley, and no more ; for the fullest bowl on 
 earth can but fill its master's belly. I have 
 lived 'twixt ridge and fell my eighty years. 
 Year by year I have seen hoggets grow 
 theaves, and theaves ewes, and ewes drop 
 their lambs and die culls ; I have fed and 
 drunk of them, too wise that they or the 
 world should feed and drink o' me. For the 
 way of the world — see now, I will teach thee 
 wisdom — the way of the world is clutch lest 
 thou be clutchet ; and the wise man huggeth 
 his treasure in a small still, lest, enlarging 
 somewhat, he do but swell another man's 
 hoard. The valley here is the world in 
 small. I am the lord of this world, and the 
 sheep are my hinds, by whose sweat I do 
 live, 
 
 Neanias 
 Must I go round like a rat in a cage ? 
 
The TOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Geron 
 
 You may change cages ; you will still go 
 round. See here : I've made my own beer 
 since I could drink it ; paid the size ; size o' 
 bread and ale ; multure o' mill ; hearthstead 
 on the Stinted Ground — that's solid, boy ! 
 That's the Free Commoner of Champney 
 Valtort; that's the respected man. Eight 
 times Reeve ; Pinder for life ! Churchwarden, 
 moreover, with a clear mind till the parson 
 ups and bids me turn to God. Turn to God ! 
 says I, 'tis for Him to turn to me, as the 
 Testament doth prove ; and I never went 
 near his church from Hocktide unto Candle- 
 mas. That learned him, likely ; and no 
 judgment yet for all my eighty years. No, 
 no, cleave to the sheep, boy, and the sheep 
 will cleave to you. There's safety in sheep, 
 and a bulging stocking 'gainst the rheu- 
 matics. And when your day comes, as 
 come mine must, take to your bed, boy, 
 and face the wall like a stolid Christian man. 
 Say good-bye to the door while she knows 
 ye; ye'll go out feet foremost next move. 
 There's the wisdom of my ancientry ; walk 
 you in it. 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Neanias 
 
 I am young and lusty ; I believe I am 
 shapely. I would like to court a maid. 
 
 Geron 
 
 Breed, boy, breed, there's maids a plenty. 
 Yet the world will give you no better than 
 the forge at the brooks head. I took my 
 wife at thy age off the land — a chubby-faced 
 lass with as pretty a trick of the head, in the 
 way of tossing, as ever a man saw, and all the 
 coaxing motions of a hunching shoulder 
 proper for courtship and lingering by stiles. 
 The world might have given me those same 
 frailties ; but would it 'a' given grass to 
 march wi' mine, an' a sheep-dip cut an' going, 
 an' a score fine-fleeced lambs, an' a hand at a 
 black-pudding equal to your grandam's, boy ? 
 It would not. And she took me willing, and 
 reared thy father and thy four uncles and 
 seven aunts, boy! And my acres grew and 
 my breeches pocket grew without foot set 
 beyond the parish boundary. 
 
 Neanias 
 
 Didst thou never dream, grandfather, in 
 thy youth ? O' nights when the moon is 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 yellow and lieth low down, and the wind a 
 getting? Didst thou never hear the world 
 calling thee over the moor ? / 
 
 Geron 
 
 Why, to be plain, boy, I never did. Gossip 
 o' the country ! Gossip o' the country ! You 
 sit too much with the women ; they tell tales 
 over the fire. Once I dreamed a dream that 
 a man sold wool by the quart. But I'd had 
 liquor that night ; and so I had. 
 
 Neanias 
 
 Over the ridge there is a tarn, and by the 
 tarn are seven trees. Men call their names 
 the Seven Sisters. And nights o' the year 
 you may hear them sing — as I have heard 
 them sing. 
 
 Geron 
 
 Thy mother hath black hair, and a neck 
 all too white for a cottager's woman. Tis 
 where thy brown skin came from, for we're 
 all red folk in the valley — red, and speedy 
 frecklers ; and here art thou like a gipsy's 
 minion ! Thy father went into the world to 
 get her, without leave o' mine. 'Tis said 
 she's sea-bred : sure enough 'twas a fearsome 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 night 'o rain and wind that he brought her 
 home, and sea-birds round the house screech- 
 ing the dark through. And this is some 
 fantasy of hers, to set thy silly head swimming. 
 If thou art for a wedding, boy, go not into 
 the world for a white-neckt woman. Choose 
 for a broad chest and freckly cheeks like a 
 plajnish man if you want your childer straight 
 and long i' the back. 
 
 Neanias 
 
 From the tarn falls a brook over boulders 
 and moss, down the dip of the moor. Follow 
 it faithfully, you enter the Forest at the 
 thicket corner : with five miles more you are 
 in the reedy places where Merrow meets the 
 sea. 
 
 Geron 
 
 May be so, may be so. I never saw it. 
 I've heard tell of such places. A fine country 
 for a beast pasture, saltings and slob-lands. 
 
 Neanias 
 
 I was there once, two summers agone, in 
 daylight. But night would be the time. If 
 you dared ! If you dared ! So still and 
 warm ! Oh, there's mystery somewhere. 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Geron 
 
 Ay, ay. A mastery of sleep is upon me 
 now. 
 
 Neanias 
 
 I would not say I had purposed to go the 
 full way : I know not what I had purposed ; 
 but I got up the mountain edge, and from the 
 top saw the world stretcht out — cornlands 
 and forest, the river winding among meadow- 
 flats, and right off, like a hem of the sky, the 
 moving sea, with snatches of foam, and large 
 ships reaching forward, out-bound. And 
 then I thought no more, but my heart leapt 
 to meet the wind, and I ran, and I ran. I 
 felt my legs under me, I felt the wind buffet 
 me, hit me on the cheek ; the sun shone, the 
 bees swept past me singing ; and I too sang, 
 shouted, World, world, I am coming ! Thus 
 I came to the Tarn and saw the Seven 
 Sisters. The Tarn was fretted with little 
 bright waves that lapt shortly on the stones ; 
 the Seven Sisters dipt and bowed their heads 
 to me till I loved them. I loved them well, 
 but never stayed till I was down the edge and 
 in the deep forest. It was all husht and dark. 
 You saw no sun, but only shafts of blue light 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 running up among the great trees ; and you 
 heard the wind a very long way off rush over 
 from the sea to the hills. There were no 
 birds' voices; not a foot crusht the beech- 
 mast but mine. Methought the tall trees 
 stood round me like God. But though a 
 man may love God he dare hardly breathe 
 before Him ; and so was I, alone among the 
 watchful trees. Thus endured a time of 
 trembling and expectation, I know not how 
 long. Then I thought something stirred ; I 
 stood heart in mouth, peering through the 
 trees. The quiet about me while I listened 
 was terrible : I could hear my own heart. 
 Grandfather, you are asleep ; you are not 
 listening to me. 
 
 Geron 
 
 Nay, nay, I can hear ye. 'Tis quiet, ye 
 say. So 'tis, so 'tis : a wonderful quiet night. 
 And a smell o' rain. But quiet ! 
 
 Neanias 
 There was truly something not far off, 
 Grandfather ! Something grieving and fight- 
 ing with itself, out of breath, panting and 
 crying in a whisper. I dared not move. 
 
 8 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Geron 
 
 Quite right, boy, quite right. Never move 
 for anybody when you've got the chimney- 
 corner. 
 
 Neanias 
 
 I could see nothing ! I was dizzy with 
 the terror ; knew not what it meant, nor why 
 the trees so weighed upon my soul. Then, 
 while I waited, I did see something, for a 
 second of time, by a riven ash. I saw a face. 
 Sickly white, with eyes astare and a round 
 and open mouth. This was a young face, 
 the face of a girl framed in streaming hair. 
 Her mouth made a black O, as if she would 
 scream, but no sound came at all. Then she 
 panted short and was lost behind the tree 
 trunks. She came in a flash and was gone 
 in a flash ; and I heard rain pattering on the 
 leaves up above, and the wood grew very 
 dark. I was suddenly cold : there was no 
 friendliness in the world for me. For look ! 
 I had seen horrible pain ; cruelty somewhere ; 
 lovely cruelty. And as I thought of it I 
 seemed to see the thing again, speechless 
 and scared, and off I ran, blindly forward, 
 as I have never run before (following the 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 gallop of my thought), headlong, without 
 breath or glance to right or left, until I 
 gained the skirt of the deep wood. The 
 storm was over ; the sun shining red in the 
 West ; and behold ! through a rift in the 
 trees the salt sea but a mile away, so you 
 could almost hear the breakers crash, see the 
 rocks shine with the wet, and the birds wheel 
 and pounce. 
 
 Geron (starting) 
 
 Stop your chatter, stop your chatter! 
 Pounce o' birds ! Look at the dog. Did 
 ye hear the old bell-wether stamp ? 
 
 Neanias 
 
 Yes, yes, I heard him. What's that sound 
 by the running water ? Little voices ! Oh, 
 they call me ; oh, they call me ! Lady, I am 
 coming, lady, lady ! 
 
 Geron 
 
 Stop your blether an' nonsense, and listen 
 to the lead o' the sheep. D'ye hear them 
 now? 
 
 Neanias 
 
 They are scattering wide, grandfather. 
 Sure, someone wilhbe driving them. 
 
 10 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Geron 
 Do I smell a fox ? Do I smell a fox ? 
 
 Neanias 
 I smell no fox. 
 
 Geron 
 
 Then it'll be Mopsus' young dog" as likely 
 as nonsense. He was a wild one from the 
 first. Go you down and see, boy. Kep 
 will fetch the sheep home. Kep '11 twist his 
 neck! 
 
 Neanias 
 
 Yes, I must go. Of course I must go, 
 for I am called. They are calling me from 
 the top o' the moor. 
 
 Geron 
 
 If sheep stealing's in the wind, 'tisn't you 
 nor me they're calling, my lad : that's sure 
 and certain as our hope and election. Get 
 you down now, and go steady. You've 
 young wind and I've little or none; so I'll 
 just warm the other shank and get a spell 
 o' sleep. A man may do wi'out a wife (and 
 I better than most), but he must sleep if he 
 would wake. Ye may journey the world 
 
 ii 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 over, but ye'll find no better thing. Get 
 down the moor, boy, get ye down the moor. 
 
 (Geron sleeps!) 
 
 Neanias (to his dog) 
 
 Kep, go you down and fold the sheep ; 
 I've other work on hand. It's now or never, 
 and I must go. Bountiful God knows the 
 end of this. I've heard tell the Mistress o' 
 the Green Wood is abroad at this hour and 
 may be discerned to flit across the grass 
 rides betwixt the shelving trees. Now I 
 shall see the white face again. I will kiss 
 sorrow from the open mouth. Yes, yes, 
 Lady, I am surely coming. Ride, Moon, 
 through your silver brake; discourse, O 
 stars, of high ventures, while I fare forth 
 into the lovely hidden world. 
 
 (Neanias climbs the hill!) 
 
 END OF SCENE I. 
 
 12 
 
The YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 SCE&CE SECOND 
 
 A Heath on the Hill-Top 
 Enter Neanias. 
 
 Neanias 
 
 |HIS is a large country whose very 
 breathing may be discerned and her 
 life known in the floating leagues of 
 air. Yonder, but how far, is a rim 
 of white light ! There must be a city there. 
 A city ! There are many such places, though 
 never seen by me. I mind long ago there was 
 a traveller came with a pack, and departed 
 again for the city. Maybe yonder is the city. 
 Eighty-four miles he must travel afoot; at 
 dusk he started before moonrise, pointing the 
 streak of a road that ran before him eighty- 
 four miles. This road drave straight be- 
 tween the high hills, and up and down till it 
 cut a cleft in the sky line, like a bite out of a 
 pear, and went on. He told me he must be 
 gone fifteen miles ere he slept, through hill 
 
 13 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 and brake, through deep-set hedges and stone 
 walls dividing the pastures, and husht pine- 
 woods ; and then out on the bare moors 
 where the scritch-owls quest at night and the 
 goat-sucker purrs as she flits by. Once he 
 must smell the sea through Roaring Gap and 
 see the Skiver Beacon alight ; but the hills 
 would close over him again, and nothing but 
 stars above him and the patch of dusty road 
 for his eyes to see ; and darkness clinging 
 round him like the curtain of your bed. 
 Eighty- four miles before the city come, and 
 his own firelight through the casement. Ah, 
 to be a traveller ! .... It is bad for a 
 young man never to have seen a city ; it 
 hath a shameful sound when the girls ask 
 me Sunday after Sunday, Have I been to 
 town ? And I say, Nay. They laugh, and 
 I grow hot and feel younger than I really 
 am. Why should they call me boyish names 
 when I am a man? I have the motions of 
 a man, yet never courted a maid, nor spoke 
 with one of such things as men and maids 
 speak of when they are alone. What things 
 these are I should not know had not Merla 
 told me. I have spoken long and earnestly 
 with Merla ; I think she understands me. 
 
 14 
 
The TOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 She said she did the other day, and I believe 
 her. I am bolder now. This night hath 
 prickt my courage. I shall meet with strange 
 folk ; I shall herd in new pastures ; I shall 
 herd with men and maids. Specially will 
 I herd with the maids. A certain foresight 
 doth bear me company in this business. A 
 little further on there will be a grassy place 
 near the Tarn. There, where should be 
 trees, by the light of the moon you shall 
 see ladies sitting in a half-ring, very quiet, 
 hands on chins, eyes outward set to the 
 weather until I come. When I come I will 
 be bold, without pertness I will be bold. 
 Cap in hand, making a good leg, I step 
 forward. " Ladies," I will say, or " pretty 
 ladies," or (as a man of the world might 
 say) ' 4 M y pretty ladies " — how then ? ' ' Pretty 
 ladies " ? No, no. " Ladies "? Well then ; 
 Ladies, I am a servant of her you serve. 
 You serve the Mistress of the Green Wood. 
 I serve her from afar off. Your lives are 
 done in secret, seen of a few among the 
 many who have business (though they know 
 it not) in your realm — fools ! who look upon 
 your Tarn as a hole full of water, upon your 
 Forest as a clustering of green stocks, upon 
 
 15 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 your wild moor under driving clouds as 
 devilish bleak lodging; who see the pasty 
 in a flock of birds, and holloa for the hounds 
 when they descry the lagging fox. Ladies, 
 I am not as one of these. Sweet Lord ! 
 how I have peered for your footprints, 
 listened for your idlest whisper, fallen down 
 at your faint appearance. For this land to 
 me is full of voices, rumours, and the assured 
 breath of your unseen presence. Knowing 
 you not I have loved you, and discerning 
 you not have felt you near at hand. And 
 now that we are face to face, my face to all 
 of yours, tell me, I pray you, how I may 
 become a seer. Tell me now the mystery 
 of the miracle I saw in the wood — the open 
 mouth of the affrighted child ; the hidden 
 torturer, who he was ; the meaning of cruel 
 hands at work in the deep wood. And guide 
 me to your dwelling, touch me here and 
 there that I become wise, kiss me and seal 
 knowledge unto me, as I would kiss in turn 
 and seal my life to yours. In this high 
 strain, but much more eloquently, I would 
 speak with the seated ring of ladies. And 
 having said my say, I would stand easily 
 with a hand to my hip, until one, the tallest 
 
 16 
 
The TOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 and fairest, should advance and kiss me 
 lightly, on the cheek. So I would kiss again 
 in most friendly and courteous fashion, and 
 she, taking me by the hand, would lead me 
 to join the ring. There would be calls for 
 music, and I should doubtless take out my 
 oaten pipe and set them a-dancing. Anon 
 one would take the pipe from me, that I 
 might dance with the tall and fair lass ; and 
 dance, you may depend, I should, and never 
 tire at all, nor sweat, as in our village dances 
 we use. After that I know not well what 
 should happen ; but of this I am certain, by 
 some means I should become initiate — drink- 
 ing mayhap of the Tarn water out of a 
 speckled fern leaf, possibly biting some 
 sweetish root, or swallowing a potion com- 
 pounded of herbs and simples which they 
 had pluckt under the new moon. Oh, there 
 are ways ! Well I know it. I will advance 
 therefore, nothing doubted. Yet my heart 
 beats masterfully : I hear a knocking at my 
 ribs. God's love, what is that crying about me ? 
 
 Voices {without) 
 
 Come, come away ; 
 Come, come away ! 
 
 17 
 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Neanias 
 Hark, O hark, the night is awake. 
 
 Voices {without) 
 
 Follow me over the moor ! 
 Come away, come away ! 
 
 Neanias 
 
 The night is awake, the night is awake! 
 Hush ! Now silence is deep and wide : down 
 in the valley a sheep-bell fitfully stirs ; a dog 
 is baying the moon. Hark, will she speak 
 again ? Lady, lady ! 
 
 Voices {nearer) 
 
 The moor, the moor, come over the moor ! 
 Come child, who art out of the world 
 And would be a child no more. 
 
 Neanias 
 
 Oh, they are very near ! Should I pray ? 
 Should I pray ? I have a fear on me because 
 of the night chills. Ah, ah, they are here ! 
 Ah, ah, Mothe of Saints, there is the face 
 of the child! 
 
 (The Earth Daughters appear ; five 
 with joined hands dance round Aglae, 
 
 18 
 
The YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 while one sings to a three -stringed lyre. 
 They sing by turns, passing the lyre 
 from one to another. Aglae's head 
 is bent and her hands claspt. Sitys 
 sings first.} 
 
 Sitys 
 
 The moon is over firs, the fox is abroad — 
 
 Come, come away ! 
 
 The partridge calls from the corn that her 
 
 mate come home 
 From the new-cut swathes of hay : 
 Come, come, come away ! 
 This is the hour for the Sister Queens of the 
 
 moor 
 To caper and play. 
 Dark muffles the cote, the herds grumble 
 
 asleep, 
 Not a footfall stirs in the way 
 Of the village : come, come away ! 
 
 [She gives place to Geerna.) 
 
 Geerna 
 
 I started a huddled doe where she slept 
 
 blinking her ears : 
 Ho ! She leapt in a fright, 
 
 19 c — 2 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Shaking, and fled ; the stamp of her trepitant 
 feet 
 
 Shockt the velvety night, 
 
 And the rim of her eye flared white ! 
 
 Light as a hare I gave chase thro' bramble 
 and glade, 
 
 Thro' shallow and bight, 
 
 Where the warm sand lips on the frith ; sob- 
 bing she fell — 
 
 but her blood was bright 
 And Earth greedy this night ! 
 
 (She gives place to Phceno.) 
 
 Phgeno 
 
 1 couched in reeds and heard the sough of 
 the wind, 
 
 The wash of the tide 
 
 Rising and falling, rising and falling ever. 
 
 As the salt flow brimmed wide 
 
 The reeds shivered and sighed ; 
 
 And the great Night lay abroad like an ocean 
 
 of dark 
 Still, till the heron cried 
 Out at his fishing alone ; then I piped to 
 
 myself, 
 But the melody faltered and died 
 When the moon silvered the tide. 
 
 20 
 
The TOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 {She gives place to Dryas.) 
 
 Dryas 
 
 I stood hid to the flanks in the thick of the 
 
 fern 
 As the tired day fell, 
 
 Washing my body in blood shed by the sun : 
 In the hush of my spell 
 My voice chimed like a bell, 
 As I sang, as I sang of the long peace of 
 
 the woods. 
 Like a miracle, 
 All in a golden cloud, my hair floated and 
 
 spread, 
 And the dusk loved well 
 My bosom's sinking and swell. 
 
 (She gives place to Erotion.) 
 
 Erotion 
 As a hawk I sped down the moor to the 
 
 sleep-smothered flock 
 For love of a boy ; 
 And I girded myself with the new slain pelt 
 
 of a fox, 
 And the hunter's joy, 
 And the flush of a maid's decoy. 
 The sheep fled leaping for fear as I bayed of 
 
 the wolf 
 
 21 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 In the light of the moon. 
 
 For, oh, we are wild for loving or hating, 
 
 and soon 
 Like a mystic rune 
 Worketh our plenilune. 
 
 {She gives place to Adora.) 
 
 Adora 
 
 I am the Morning Calm and the smile of me 
 
 is like sleep 
 Even and deep ; 
 And my eyes are twin mountain lakes, and 
 
 the lashes of them 
 Like the swishing sedge 
 That hideth the water's edge. 
 I float on the white water ere daylight begins 
 Or the moon grows wan, 
 And I spin at a loom the life of the day to 
 
 come, 
 A little span, 
 The day of the life of man. 
 
 (She joins the dancers ring.) 
 
 Neanias (watching AglaeJ 
 
 She is among them, yet speaks not ; she 
 has no song to utter ; her feet are heavy 
 
 22 
 
The TOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 because her heart is heavy ; she is burdened 
 beyond her strength and the slightness of 
 her years. What should I do ? What would 
 a man do in such a pass as this ? 
 
 Erotion (spying him) 
 Sisters, he is here! Sisters, he is here! 
 
 {She stops dancing and points him out.) 
 
 Neanias 
 Oh, no, no, no ! 
 
 Erotion 
 
 Are you shy, my brown boy? You are 
 brown as a nut, a ripe nut, king of a cluster. 
 Behold, I pluck you out by the hand. Come 
 and talk to me. 
 
 {She drags him forward!) 
 
 Neanias 
 What's your will, lady ? 
 
 Erotion 
 
 Come, come away ; 
 Come, come, come away ! 
 We have hunted this night, 
 O sisters, daughters of Earth, 
 
 23 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 We have found ! Come, let us play ! 
 To the Tarn, to the Tarn, come away ! 
 
 All {save Aglae) 
 
 We ride at our will o'er the bonny wild moor, 
 Air is our fee, and the deep brake our demesne, 
 Come, come away ! Come, come away ! 
 
 {They drag Neanias after them laughing?) 
 
 END OF SCENE II. 
 
 24 
 

 The YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 The Top of the Moor: The Tarn with 
 the Seven Sisters. 
 
 The Daughters of Earth sit in a half- 
 
 circle on the grass. Neanias. stands 
 
 before them sheepishly. 
 
 Sitys 
 
 ISTERS, we have never had a mortal 
 so close to us before. Look at him 
 well. 
 
 Adora 
 He is a pretty youth. 
 
 Geerna 
 
 Mortals have but a short time to live ; let 
 us look at him while the bloom is on him. I 
 have seen a dead mortal — faugh ! I like not 
 such clods. 
 
 Dryas 
 
 Brown boy, I see the red blood under your 
 skin. 
 
 25 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 — 
 
 Phceno 
 
 O, brown boy, what are you watching with 
 your sharp eyes ? 
 
 Dryas 
 
 Look, look, his chin is sharper than his 
 eyes. 
 
 Phceno 
 There is down on his lip. 
 
 Erotion 
 There is none. 
 
 Phceno 
 That dark rim is down. 
 
 Erotion 
 It is none. 
 
 Phceno 
 Kiss him and see. 
 
 Sitys 
 We will all kiss him anon. 
 
 Dryas 
 
 All of us, all of us ! 
 
 26 
 
The YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Erotion 
 
 None of you shall kiss him : he is mine. 
 
 Geerna 
 
 His eyes are long and something narrow : 
 he looks sly. 
 
 Adora 
 
 He is blushing now : he is a pretty youth. 
 
 Phceno 
 
 But backward. He has never loved a girl, 
 I am sure. 
 
 Erotion 
 He will love me. 
 
 Sitys 
 The short frock sits well upon him. 
 
 Dryas 
 
 Oh, his neck shoots up like a pine stem ! 
 His head is smallish and round as a puff ball. 
 
 Geerna 
 
 Then his hat is like a toadstool, casting 
 deep shade. 
 
 Adora 
 He is well enough. Can you speak, boy ? 
 
 27 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Neanias 
 Yes, mistress, I can speak. 
 
 Geerna 
 Why did you come up hither in the dark ? 
 
 Neanias 
 I don't know. 
 
 Sitys 
 How old are you? 
 
 Neanias 
 Eighteen, come Saint Lucy's day. 
 
 Phceno 
 
 You are not very forward for that. I had 
 thought mortal youths more prompt with 
 maidens. 
 
 Sitys 
 
 Is that your sheep-crook? Can you not 
 drive sheep without a stick and a dog ? We 
 are apter herds than you then. Let me look 
 at this crook. 
 
 {She takes it. Dry as touches his smock!) 
 
 Neanias (to Dryas) 
 
 Ah, you should leave me alone, mistress. 
 
 28 
 
The TOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Dryas 
 May I not touch you ? I like you well. 
 
 Erotion 
 The boy is mine. He is mine. What is 
 your name, boy of mine ? 
 
 Neanias 
 Neanias, please you, ma'am. 
 
 Erotion 
 So you have sought to know us, Neanias ? 
 You have peered for our footprints, listened 
 to our idlest whisper, fallen at our faint ap- 
 pearance — hey ? You would be initiate — 
 hey? Toucht here and there? Guided 
 and kist? You meant to speak eloquently, 
 Neanias, and you say nothing. Come, you 
 shall know us all, and then we will dwell 
 together for a season, you and I, Neanias, 
 you and I ! Look now, I take your hand : 
 you are not afraid ? 
 
 Neanias 
 No, no. I think I am not afraid. 
 
 Erotion 
 Well, leave your hand where it is, then. 
 Come, sisters, and greet your servant. 
 
 29 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Neanias 
 I am no ones servant 
 
 Erotion 
 You are my servant. Come, sisters. 
 
 Geerna (coming forward) 
 I, who am called Thirsty Corn- Ear, who 
 dwell in the red wheat and love most the 
 rain, kiss you, Neanias, and bid you welcome. 
 
 Phceno (coming forward in turn) 
 I am Tang of the Loam, and couch in 
 sweet corners of earth, watching the clover 
 creep to the light. And I kiss your cheek 
 and bid you welcome, Neanias. 
 
 Sitys 
 
 My laughing is lighter than the leap of a 
 squirrel, and brighter than the sun on yellow 
 leaves. I love good cheer and warm woods : 
 I am very kind. I suckle the young fauns 
 that I bear to my Lord the goat-shankt. I 
 am Bonny Beech Mast and kiss you welcome, 
 O Neanias. 
 
 Dryas 
 
 I am Dryas, Crown o' the Oak, youngest 
 but one of the seven Sisters. I am too wild 
 
 30 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 to be foster-mother of fauns. I love all, but 
 choose none. Chiefest I love the Sun, and 
 the Sun me. If I have a master it is the Sun. 
 I kiss you, Neanias, and you may kiss me. 
 
 Adora {who remains seated) 
 
 Come here, boy, and listen, for I go out to 
 no man ; but whoso needeth me seeketh. I, 
 who am Morning Calm, suffer you, being 
 young flesh as yet, to be welcome to our 
 sanctuary. Stoop down your cheek, that I 
 may kiss you free. 
 
 Erotion 
 
 Listen now to me, Neanias, listen well. 
 I am Warmth of the Earth, and must love 
 furiously. Many I have loved and with kind- 
 ness ; but I favour not all, and favour singly. 
 I brook no refusals : I am a Queen. I serve 
 but whom I have pleasure in, and I will keep 
 my lovers close. I am jealous, Neanias, but 
 am I not lovely and pleasant ? You I marked 
 as you tended your masters herds, and desired 
 your young blood to enrich and deepen the 
 dye of it. In your two eyes I would mirror 
 myself and my long delights. I would take 
 you between my breasts and teach you under- 
 
 3i 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 standing and knowledge and the cunning of 
 the ways of Earth. I do not kiss your cheek 
 as my sisters have done : I kiss your two 
 lips, Neanias, and bid you come. Do you 
 come not ? I am unused to vain asking. 
 
 Neanias [pointing to Aglae) 
 What of her ? Who is she ? 
 
 Dryas 
 That is Aglae. Shepherd, do you pipe ? 
 
 Neanias 
 Yes, young mistress, and with the best. 
 
 Sitys 
 What can you play on your pipe ? 
 
 Neanias 
 
 I can play " Jog on my knee," and "send 
 Phyllis to me," and "When the Corn is 
 high O," and other roundelays and country 
 songs. Will she not speak to me ? Is she 
 proud ? 
 
 Dryas 
 
 Yes, she is proud. But she cannot speak 
 to you : she is dumb. 
 
 32 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Neanias 
 
 Ah, but — she could welcome me without 
 any speeches. 
 
 Sitys 
 
 O no, no ! She is cold, icy cold ! 
 
 Phceno 
 Nay, let her come. 
 
 Erotion 
 
 She shall not come ! he shall not look al 
 her. She is not for him and he is not for her. 
 She is for One, and he is mine. 
 
 Adora 
 
 Her time is not yet come ; but it shall 
 come soon. Hither, Aglae. (Aglae rises 
 from her seat. Her hands are crost on her 
 bosom). Kiss her cheek, shepherd boy. 
 (Neanias kisses her cheek.) 
 Neanias 
 O fie ! She is stone cold ! 
 Erotion 
 
 She is not for thee, and thou art not for 
 her. Thou art mine. Come. 
 
 (She takes his hand.) 
 
 33 d 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Neanias 
 Stay a little, stay a little. 
 
 Erotion 
 
 I cannot stay. There is no time. My time 
 is short. 
 
 Neanias 
 What is this, your time is short ? 
 
 Erotion 
 
 See, low down over the furthest fell three 
 stars that make an arrow-head. Or ever 
 they prick the edge I must go, my reign is 
 over. One calls me. 
 
 Neanias 
 What is this ? 
 
 Erotion 
 
 We are rulers of the watches of the night. 
 Mine is now, and soon will be done. Come, 
 Neanias, and play with me. I love you, 
 Neanias. 
 
 Neanias 
 Tell me more of Aglae, or I come not. 
 
 34 
 
The YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Erotion 
 I will tell you no more. 
 
 Adora 
 
 She is youngest of us all and was a rebel. 
 He whom we should serve knew her not and 
 chased her long through the Green Wood. 
 Then she prayed to the Earth Mother, upon 
 whose breasts she had suckt for six years, 
 that she would keep her inviolate, which 
 our Mother did by casting chill upon her ; 
 so He who loveth warm cheer only was 
 repulsed, and yet is. But He struck her 
 dumb in His resentment, and kept her en- 
 chained until another should do off the 
 spell in time to come. And the terror 
 thereof yet endures upon her, so that at 
 certain seasons she fendeth with her hands 
 and maketh to shriek with her mouth (yet 
 no words to be discerned of any), thinking 
 the dread of that spell still about her. And 
 He hath forbidden her the knowledge of love 
 or the desire of it, notwithstanding to all 
 Daughters of Earth love is life and breath 
 and feeding and drinking, until her time is 
 ripe. So she is Virgin Dawn. 
 
 35 d— 2 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Erotion 
 
 O peace, Sister! Come, Neanias, and 
 love me. 
 
 Neanias 
 
 Hold you there, Mistress, hold you there. 
 You have said enough. Set back, set back. 
 So this is she whom I saw in shock and 
 desolation, this cold and pitiful-staring maid ! 
 Dumb, dumb, dumb ! and cold as the dead— - 
 O my dear ! O the poor child ! Up, Neanias, 
 and show thy mettle, learn by teaching, friend. 
 She may not love ? Teach her to love thee 
 and thou shalt thyself learn loving. She 
 is dumb ? Woo her, Neanias, till she speak 
 to thee of the love thou hast awarded her, 
 lest she die of too much repression of love. 
 This is fate, this is thy fate and calling, 
 boy. Set on then and shame the Devil. 
 Ho, there ! Listen, O strange ladies. You 
 are free and vagrant as the air is ; but 
 your speech and conversation are not for 
 shepherds. I love you not. You, Mistress 
 Thirsty Corn- Ear, are too masterful. May- 
 be 'tis your thirstiness should be blamed, I 
 cannot tell. But among men it is not used 
 that the woman is master. I do not see you 
 
 36 
 
The TOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 a-spinning me hosen, nor mending my torn 
 smocks, nor "washing me breeches. You are 
 over tall and bold for a shepherd's mate ; I 
 choose not for you. You, Tang o' the Loam, 
 are brown and winsome ; but you love sleep 
 too well on your own declaration. You would 
 be for ever in the ingle-nook, and where 
 should I look for my supper then ? I pass 
 you by. Little Mistress Dryas, Crown o' the 
 Oak, with your slim neck and hair fanned 
 out in a cloud, you are like a Saint in Glory. 
 You seem in wonder at your own beauty ; 
 and so far well. But you have sought more 
 of me than a maid should. You would scare 
 the parson from his pulpit and set the women 
 fighting. I cannot figure you in a Sunday 
 gown, which we look to see touch the ground 
 at one end and the chin at the other. Your 
 own, lady, is a thought too scanty for our 
 taste. Take your joy of the Sun, Mistress, 
 I have no quarrel with him there. Pretty 
 Sitys, Bonny Beech-Mast, I think you are 
 kind as you are comely. Yet you are a 
 laugher, and I fear you wanton. Who is 
 Goat-Shanks ? A man should have a grave- 
 eyed wife, for our world, look you, is not 
 always so gay. No, no. I like you well 
 
 37 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 enough, but I may not have you. Lady 
 Morning Calm, I look the less at you as I 
 fear you the more. You have a strange 
 smile, terribly sweet. You are too high for 
 a shepherd lad ; but I doff my cap to you. 
 
 Erotion 
 You are for me then ! 
 
 Neanias 
 Nay, ma'am, I am for Aglae. 
 
 (He takes Aglae by the hand!) 
 
 The Six Others 
 
 She is banned, you dare not ! She is 
 banned, you will rue it ! 
 
 Neanias 
 
 I dare do all that a man may dare for the 
 maid he chooseth to wife. 
 
 The Six 
 Away, away ! Seek Pan. Pan will avenge. 
 
 Neanias 
 Aglae, come with me. 
 
 (He leads her away.) 
 
 38 
 
The YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 The Six 
 She goeth. Away ! Pan, Pan ! 
 
 (Exeunt severally.) 
 
 END OF SCENE III. 
 
 39 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 SQE^CE FOURTH 
 
 Another part of the moor, looking over the 
 valley 
 
 Enter Neanias carrying Aglae. He sets her 
 on a fallen tree and stands looking at her. 
 
 Neanias 
 |HE keeps her eyes fixt on me: I 
 think she is going to cry. The 
 corners of her mouth are down — 
 a bad sign. Her lips cling loosely 
 together — a worse. She hath grey eyes — 
 how deep and soft! How far-searching! 
 How seeming to ask for help of me, like a 
 dumb beast's ! And her lips are cold ; and 
 she is dumb ! What should a man do with 
 a girl at such a time? Put his arm about 
 her, doubtless, and give her a kiss, or kisses. 
 There is that upon her which forbids a 
 careless handling. Besides — oh, it would be 
 merciless! I have heard that of old time 
 the squire knelt before his lady to kiss her 
 hand, or even her foot. Shall I salute her 
 
 40 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 so? I have her hand, and can see her 
 sandall'd foot, with the little toes like wind- 
 flowers peeping up through the herbage. 
 The hand is nearer ; I will kiss her hand. 
 How small, how warm, how gentle a hand ! 
 Her cheek was cold as a stone — to be 
 warmed some day by my fire ! I have 
 warmed her hand a ready in mine : let me 
 warm the other. [He has both her hands). 
 Oh, Aglae, you are trembling ! What's the 
 matter, my dear? Art cold, art afraid, 
 wistful, Aglae? Why, girl, thou hast a 
 lover, a sweetheart ; is it nothing to thee ? 
 Never a lass yet but hugged the darling 
 thought, if the wisdom of man speaks true. 
 Cheer then, cheer then, pretty maid, for I 
 at least will be true. Ah, ah ! You cast 
 down your eyes at that ; 'fore God, you 
 blush — O Aglae, how soft-cheekt you are ! 
 But I say it again, I will be your true man, 
 even as my father that is dead loved my 
 mother whom he stole from a country far 
 from here and taught the use of love in a 
 quiet valley. She was a sea-bred woman, 
 black-haired, swan-neckt, and knew nothing 
 of sheep or husbandry. But my father taught 
 her all that, and she loves him yet though 
 
 4i 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 he lies with a broken back deep under Church 
 mould. Even as my father was to her, so 
 to you will I be, girl : even so. Ah, Saints, 
 she looketh up again, with beseeching and 
 with dumb prayer! Do her lips move? No 
 sound, no sound at all ! She must speak to 
 me ; she shall speak. Look, Aglae, do as I 
 do ; move your lips now as I move mine. 
 Now thus: tongue to palate, that is L. Yes, 
 yes. Open lips to form broad O, full as my 
 heart. Wider yet, and fuller : L, O ! Now 
 lower lip to upper teeth for V, and E as 
 mute as you. Do it now. It is done ! That 
 is LOVE, Aglae, that is LOVE! . . . 
 Aglae, I will kneel before you and ask you 
 — stay with me ! Look, now, I have come 
 over the hills for you, braving dangers, my 
 word ! and fatigues, and uncertain powers, 
 possibly of the Devil. Stay with me. Your 
 eyes are soft and very gentle, yet wide with 
 waiting for fear : narrow them that peace 
 may come in. Do you fear? You cannot 
 fear me. Look at me, Aglae — are you afraid ? 
 You shake your head : you are not ! Then 
 I will tell you more. I am here and you 
 are here, none beside us, we two in the open 
 world. Oh, my dear, I love you well ! The 
 
 42 
 
The TOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 danger and sick dread are going with the 
 night ; soon you and the day will smile to- 
 gether. The sun will touch the hill-tops, and 
 race down the flanks of the high hills. He 
 will kindle the trees in the valley, and we 
 shall see his light, and the blue smoke make 
 a spire to God. With a wakened world, the 
 sounds of men and business about us, all will 
 be well. The ringing anvil at the forge, the 
 wash of the mill-wheel, the humming where 
 the wheat is a-threshing, and Merla calling 
 the cows — day will come, day will come ! 
 Hark, is that the priest's bell? Not yet, 
 not yet : courage, wait awhile, soon will 
 be a wedding, and a bride carried over the 
 threshold to the hearth ! You the bride, 
 Aglae, Virgin Dawn ; and I the groom, I, 
 Neanias son of Balkis. The folk will line the 
 church-way, strowing flowers and branches ; 
 the men will follow you with their eyes, and 
 the women say, M The sturdy lad ! " — of me 
 whom hitherto they have counted a baby, 
 to talk their freedoms before me without a 
 blush ! Sturdy enough. For though I am 
 slim built I am very strong, and could carry 
 you, Aglae, under my arm. My arm round 
 your middle, I would carry you over brooks 
 
 43 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 in flood, and up the moor-side on dewy- 
 mornings lest you should wet your pretty 
 toes. In the orchards I could hold you up 
 to gather the codlings and peach-apples from 
 the midmost branches. There should no 
 brambles tear you, and no thistle-spines, nor 
 sword-grass that cuts like a saw. Oh, I would 
 tend you well, A glae, and love you dearly ! 
 The homestead should flow with milk and 
 honey : I would get you the firstlings of the 
 year, apples and quinces and mellow pears. 
 Fine wool should be your bed clothes, all of 
 first-shear lambs : you should be drest in 
 white wool and thin flax. My mother, you 
 must know, is a cunning woman, deft with 
 her fingers, and her spinning well known in 
 our valley and beyond the high hills. Fear 
 not to tear your hands or harden them with 
 coarse work ; fear not to line your pale and 
 gentle face with dark thoughts or cares ; 
 fear not to drudge, fear nothing. I am with 
 you, Aglae : I will teach you love ; and love, 
 say they, is life. Happy love, therefore, is 
 blessed life. . . . O Aglae, will you cry 
 again ? Sure, you cannot see me for tears. 
 You tremble again, your lips quiver, sobs are 
 in your throat. Your head on my shoulder, 
 
 44 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 dear : there, that's happy, that's happy. Oh, 
 what a beating heart ! Look now, Aglae, 
 cry your fill ; don't be ashamed — I am not 
 looking at you. I felt a tear on my arm ; I 
 know your eyes are brimming. Cry, cry, 
 my bird, you will be better after. Have no 
 fear, I hold you close— side to side : we will 
 be nearer yet— heart to heart some day. Ah, 
 ah, you are mine ! I have made you mine. 
 And I am a man by now, and you are mine, 
 and mine, and mine, and my wife for ever ! 
 Come Aglae, away. Come ! . . . See, 
 Aglae the white dawn steals round the rim 
 of the world : soon spears of fire will spike 
 the East. Virgin-Dawn, this is the day, this 
 is our wedding day. Hark ! what is that far 
 off and below us in the haze ? The priest's 
 bell, by our Lord's joy ! Sir Topas at his 
 Mass. Come, my bride, my well-beloved! 
 Come, heart of mine, to whom love draws 
 near. Let us seek Sir Topas at the altar 
 rail. Dawn ! Dawn ! 
 
 (He takes her hand ; they go down the moor- 
 side together. Day -break.) 
 
 END OF SCENE IV. 
 
 45 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 SCEWLE FIFTH 
 
 Geroris Cottage Door. Early Morning. 
 
 Balkis stands at the door, looking down the 
 road. Merla sits on the step with her 
 face between her knees. 
 
 Merla 
 
 MOTHER of Heaven! O crowned 
 Son ! Was ever such a night since 
 I was born ? Late loved, earlier 
 lost is a true word. Mother, I would die ! 
 
 Balkis 
 No need to die for my son, Merla. He 
 will come in his time as he went in his time. 
 
 Merla 
 If he does not come I must surely die, 
 Mistress Balkis. 
 
 Balkis 
 A girl should not say she will die for a 
 man, unless — 
 
 4 6 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Merla 
 
 Mistress Balkis, I will tell you sober truth. 
 He has never cast an eye upon me. Do you 
 think I would weep so free if he were by ? 
 My tongue would blister in my mouth. But 
 to you I may say more than to most. I will 
 tell you what my own sister guesses not, 
 bedfellow of mine though she be. 
 
 Balkis 
 I see my father on the road. 
 
 Merla 
 Oh, oh 1 Alone ? 
 
 Balkis 
 
 The dog is with him. My father walks as 
 a tired man, looking neither at the weather 
 nor the hill-side where the sheep lie. 
 
 Merla 
 
 Then he has found no trace ; then Nan is 
 lost to me. 
 
 Balkis 
 To you, girl ? Well ! 
 
 Merla 
 O Mistress Balkis, may I tell you more ? 
 
 47 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Do I dare? He is gone, he is gone ! I may- 
 tell you now. Oh, Balkis, I loved him so 
 dear! 
 
 Balkis 
 
 Well. 
 
 Merla 
 
 He never lookt at me save to bid "good 
 morning," or "good night," or <f save you, 
 Merla," as he past. Once only he kist me 
 fairly — o' Christmas Eve. We were pulling 
 raisins from the Snapdragon bowl, and I took 
 one between my teeth and dared him pull it 
 out wi' his'n. 'Twas done o' purpose, Balkis, 
 and it answered, for I began it. I may surely 
 tell you now he is dead and gone. How do 
 I know the mistletoe didn't mind him of a 
 lad's duty ? He never noticed me again, 
 though I took a dozen raisins up an' dared 
 him every one. I had to swallow 'em down, 
 and might 'a chokt before he'd save me from 
 untimely death, Ah, I was nothing to him, 
 an' he never knew what he was to me, nor 
 cared — never ! But I knew where he went 
 from dawn to dusk : I could not let him 
 alone. When he lay out in the meadows 
 with the sheep I was near, croucht on knees 
 
 4 S 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 to watch him lie. When the noon was fierce 
 he would lie down by the burn and dip his 
 cheeks in the water. I was there, and pray- 
 ing I might be water. Times again he 
 would strip and stand thigh-deep in the pool, 
 or swim there at his ease. My heart stood 
 still, my legs were as water : but not of the 
 brook, Mistress Balkis, not of the brook! I 
 watcht him home by the light of the hunter's 
 moon, and have markt how tired he would 
 be ; his limbs would lag : he is over long for 
 his years and wearies soon. When he has 
 piped he has thought himself alone ; but I 
 was there. I would have danced with him 
 till I dropt. When he was sleepy, I would 
 have pillow'd him on my lap. I have lain 
 awake o' nights, and called his name softly 
 to myself, trilled it over my lips thus — 
 Neanias ! Nan, my Nan ! The girls all 
 call him Nan for his meek looks. Oh, 
 oh ! And I watch him at church, too ; 
 sharing books my hand hath doddered like a 
 shaking poplar. His name is scored on many 
 a tree ; but deep it is scored in my heart, 
 Mistress, deep it is notcht in my heart! I 
 look at myself in the glass, and sicken with 
 scorn. "Thou blistered wretch," I say, 
 
 49 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 "thou freckled toad, shall the like of him 
 look upon thee ? He, so clear of skin, so 
 nut-brown, so clear-ruddy in the cheek ! He 
 to bend his proud head that the black curls 
 meet thy flaunting mane, meet and mingle ! 
 He, supple and clean as a sapling birch, to 
 take thee, thou suet-face ? " So I go on, 
 mad at my own gross habit : but I love him, 
 shadow him, think day and night upon him. 
 Do I do a wrong, Mistress Balkis, in speaking 
 of this ? I am lusty as a steer ; I could carry 
 him up the fell on my back ; I have forty 
 gold sovereigns in my mother's broken tea- 
 pot ; I look better when I'm drest for Church ; 
 I can kill a pig ; I would lay down my life 
 for him ! Oh, oh, oh ! Speak to me for 
 Heavens pity. 
 
 Balkis 
 
 His time is not yet, Merla. He is full 
 
 young to marry. And he may look where 
 
 his father did. I cannot tell ! (To Geron.) 
 
 You are tired, my father, and tired in vain. 
 
 (Enter Geron.) 
 
 Geron 
 
 I've been up Bartle Fell an' over Powder- 
 mat Edge without sight of a hoping soul. 
 
 50 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Far over by the Windy Knole I saw three 
 crows wheeling in air, an* thither I went with 
 my stomach turning me green. 'Twas nought 
 but a still-born lamb they were after. But 
 the boy was my lamb, daughter, and it might 
 a' been he. What should rive him sudden 
 in the open moor, you would say ? The act 
 o' God ! The act o' God ! A jealous God, 
 they tell me ; and He must a known I was 
 wrapt up in the lad ; He couldn't but a' 
 known it. I never hid it from no one. 
 
 Merla 
 
 God Almighty never took him, Master 
 Geron. 'Tis no mischief of His making. Oh, 
 my heart, my heart, torn to pieces ! 
 
 Balkis 
 
 Come, father, and eat your meat. He is 
 nearer kin to me than to you. 
 
 Geron 
 
 You were always a strange silent woman, 
 daughter ; a deep one, a proud thinker. You 
 should weep, you should heartily weep. But 
 you drive your sorrow inward till it freezes 
 your blood. 
 
 51 e— 2 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Merla 
 
 My sorrow leapeth like a swollen water. 
 Oh, oh, oh ! 
 
 Balkis 
 Tush. The boy lives. 
 
 Geron 
 
 If your heart tells you that, pray God it 
 doth not lie. 
 
 Balkis 
 
 The heart never lies. 'Tis the head devises 
 the lying. 
 
 Merla 
 
 My heart is broken in bits. 
 
 Geron 
 
 Ah, then there's one will lie no more. 
 Who is this ! Old Teucer ? Speak, Teucer, 
 I am ready for the worst to fall. 
 
 [Enter Teucer.) 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Master Geron, Mistress Balkis, young 
 female, the mill-dam is clear of mortal sub- 
 stance. 
 
 52 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Geron 
 Then, by Jack in the Box, the lad liveth ! 
 
 Teucer 
 Lord, that was a tasty swear ! 
 
 Geron 
 
 I past the mill pool, but I would not look. 
 I dared not. I mind when I was a lad how 
 Stephen's young wife threw herself in a Hal- 
 lowmas night. The water suckt her down 
 and spewed her up against the sluice before 
 my open eyes. u Morning, Mistress," I says, 
 as up she bobbed, for I thought she was in 
 for the pastime. But she lookt at me with 
 a staring white eye, an' I saw what she was. 
 Ah, an' I've seen her since ! O' nights when 
 there'd be a moon. A bodeful place. 
 
 [Enter Mopsus and Sphorx.) 
 
 Mopsus 
 Servant, Madam Balkis. 
 
 Sphorx 
 Servant, again, Ma'am. 
 
 53 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 Tis a gay morning, Ma'am ; but this world 
 is full of dreariment. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Ah, friends and relations, there must be 
 tribulation. 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 One first, then the other; so runs the 
 wheeling world. 
 
 Teucer 
 We must be as corn to the flail ! 
 
 Mopsus 
 Sifted as wheat ! 
 
 Teucer 
 Throughly purged ! 
 
 Mopsus 
 Lord, how we must be purged ! 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 Ere day dawn I knew it must come. Says 
 I to my old girl, " Old girl "— 
 
 54 
 
The TOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 Ah, he did, he did that! I heard him 
 speak, an' I heard her answer him short. 
 
 Teucer 
 What did she say, master ? 
 
 Mopsus 
 1 Dam fool/ says she ; an' he said no more. 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 Such a dawning was never known. From 
 the grey in the West to the hot blush of the 
 East, signs and wonders and portents and 
 terrific alarms ! Moving flocks of white sea- 
 birds flying low, mewing like cats ; stars 
 shooting from the sky ; voices, apparitions, 
 screaming of women, an* laughing of wanton 
 women! The sheep scared immortally and 
 penned close without a dog ! You'd a' said 
 a wolf was abroad. There was smell of a 
 fox, and a fox is near enough to a wolf I 
 hope. A wild night and a wicked morning 
 for a lost boy. 
 
 Merla 
 
 Our old sow farrowed in the night o' ten 
 dead piglings before her time was come. 
 
 55 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Teucer 
 
 There, there ! 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 Yes, neighbour, this is the Lord's doing, 
 and it is marvellous in our eyes. 
 
 Geron 
 
 Lord's doing ! Ten dead pigs ! Devil's 
 work, depend upon it. Lord's forbearing, I 
 call it. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 There was a stranger thing than all, friends 
 and relations. One of the Seven Sisters is 
 down with the wind. She lies athwart a 
 boulder, droopt and broke. 
 
 Geron 
 
 Wind ? wind ? There was not enough wind 
 to carry a scent. There wasn't enough wind 
 to curdle a creaming pond. 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 Wind or no wind, Geron, the tree is down, 
 for I saw her lying. 
 
 56 
 
The YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Geron 
 
 Why do you fash me with your tales of 
 trees and screeching birds? Is this your 
 comfort ? I'm an old man, friends, and broken 
 a' ready by the death of my son's son. I miss 
 the boy sorely, for I know I loved him well. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Ay, ay ! He was a likely sprig. Slim an' 
 over-lean, but a pert lad for all. 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 Speak him some comfort, Sphorx, speak 
 him some comfort o' Scripture. Warm his 
 heart, Sphorx, for out of the fulness of the 
 heart the mouth speaketh. 
 
 Sphorx 
 So it should, friend, but a' won't. 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 May be thou'rt not full enough i* the heart, 
 Sphorx. Hast thou broke thy fast ? 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 Ay, an hour agone. Leave me, it'll come, 
 it's bound to come. 
 
 57 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Be bold to speak what you ought to speak, 
 neighbour Sphorx. Cousin o' mine, is Sphorx. 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 I'm in labour with the Word now, Teucer, 
 and like to deliver. 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 Tis a wonderful man, wisest in the hamlet, 
 saving the parson, who's a man of God and 
 can say what a' liketh. Now, well I remember 
 what he said o' my wedding morn. " Mopsus," 
 a' says, and again, " Mopsus " — 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 Ho, you there ! I have it fast. "He will 
 burn sinners in unmentionable fires." 
 
 Teucer 
 
 There, it's out ! Isn't he a marvel ? Cousin 
 o' mine. 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 I love a text o' Scripture for the comfort 
 an' strength of it. 
 
 58 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Then Sphorx is your man. Why, what's 
 this? Heavenly Potentates, what's this? 
 (pointing down the road.) 
 
 Sphorx 
 By the Ten Commandments, that's the boy. 
 
 Balkis 
 Then the time has come. 
 
 Merla 
 May I hold your hand, Mother ? 
 
 Balkis 
 Yes, child, but I fear for you. 
 
 Merla 
 
 Oh, Mother ! There's one with him. And 
 he walks before her ! She's his woman ! He's 
 ringed her ! 
 
 Balkis 
 
 Like his father before him. Like his father 
 long ago. 
 
 Geron (sitting down) 
 
 What's this they're saying? What does 
 my daughter say ? 
 
 59 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Balkis 
 Neanias is here, father. He is well. 
 
 Geron 
 God is good. 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 We are all grass, neighbour. Every one 
 of us is grass. 
 
 {Enter Neani as, followed by Aglae.) 
 
 Neanias {kneels) 
 
 Mother, bless me. I have brought you a 
 daughter. 
 
 Merla 
 
 O heart, O heart, O heart ! 
 
 Balkis 
 
 My son, be thou blest in all good things. 
 Daughter, come hither. 
 
 (Aglae kneels to Balkis.) 
 
 Balkis 
 
 What I know of thee I may not speak. 
 But I know thee and thine, as thou knowest 
 of me and mine. I left my people because I 
 found my master in a man. What thou hast 
 
 60 
 
The YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 done is for thy man to make just. If he prove 
 thy master it will be well. I kiss your brow, 
 Aglae, and make you welcome. 
 
 Neanias (kneeling to Geron) 
 I am here, grandfather. 
 Geron 
 
 Boy, thou hast frighted me, kept me from 
 my lawful bed, and set the neighbours talking. 
 Why hast thou done this ? 
 
 Neanias 
 I went to fetch home my wife, grandfather. 
 
 Teucer (to Sphorx) 
 Jiggers ! his wife. 
 
 Geron 
 Thy wife, boy ? 
 
 Neanias 
 Yes, sir. 
 
 Geron 
 Let me see thy wife. 
 
 Neanias 
 Look, sir, she does her reverence to my 
 mother. 
 
 61 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Geron 
 
 That slip ? Tis but a bit of a girl. Thy 
 wife should snood her hair. Her eyes are 
 over tender for a cottager, an* her mouth 
 seemeth languid and meek, to droop at the 
 corners. Off the land, off the land had been 
 better. Well ! Does she speak our tongue ? 
 
 Neanias 
 I cannot tell you, sir. She is dumb. 
 
 Geron 
 
 She is dumb ? Thou hast taken a dumb 
 wife ? Well, well, well ! Boy, thou hast a 
 riper judgment than I thought in thee. A 
 dumb wife — well ! She hath a pure manner 
 of curtseying, dumb or no. I mind to have 
 seen the like — quick droop and long recovery 
 — times agone past recall. She kisses my 
 daughters hand, and my daughter receives it 
 like a Queen. Why, woman, woman, dost 
 thou know the lass ? Art acquaint ? 
 
 Balkis 
 
 No, father, but I know of her. Aglae, 
 yonder is thy man's grandsire. Go, pay him 
 thy reverence. 
 
 62 
 
the WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 (Aglae crosses and kneels to Geron.) 
 
 Geron 
 
 What, on knees, on knees ! Nay, child, if 
 Balkis welcomes thee, I may not hold off. 
 There, little maid, little maid, with my hand 
 on thy bright hair I pray God's Mother for 
 thee. Serve thy man meekly, love, honour, 
 obey. Bear the burdens he may put upon 
 thee, they will not be too heavy : and mayst 
 thou live to tell him so. Why, lamb, thou 
 shalt not be mute and be well ! A woman 
 must talk. Go to thy master, little lamb, 
 and take a blessing with thee. 
 
 (Aglae takes Neanias' hand.) 
 
 Neanias 
 Master Sphorx, this is my wife. 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 Servant, lady. Tis a likely season for the 
 roots, being moisty. Yes, yes. Have I a 
 text? I have. M There is neither speech nor 
 language." 
 
 Neanias 
 Too apt, Master Sphorx. 
 
 63 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Mopsus [to Sphorx) 
 
 The girl's a mute. 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 Wise virgins ! I could not tell that. Tut, 
 tut ! I should never have said it. 
 
 Neanias 
 Master Teucer, this is my wife. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 To know you better, mistress, and a baby 
 on your knee. 'Tis a free-built maid, straight 
 as a pine, and a taking shape. 
 
 Neanias 
 Hush, sir. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Lord, she blushes ! And I thought she was 
 a mute ! I have done ill, friends and rela- 
 tions, and a man can do no more. 
 
 Neanias 
 Master Mopsus, this is my wife. 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 So I see. Sakes ! What to say ? Do you 
 repeat your wife, young man ? 
 
 64 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Neanias 
 I say my wife, Master Mopsus. 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 Then I say no more. Was that seemly, 
 Sphorx? Did I well? 
 
 Sphorx 
 Vex me not, Mopsus. Scripture played 
 me false. 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 Speak some more. 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 No more now for my life. Later in the 
 week, later on in the week. Nearer the 
 Sunday. Come away, Mopsus, there will be 
 a wedding feast to do, and high junketting 
 this night. We may be bidden. Then my 
 time will come. 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 The boy's to carry her over the threshold 
 I hope? 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Surely, surely, he'll do that. 
 
 65 F 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Merla (to Balkis) 
 
 He does not lead her to me, Mother. Oh, 
 Mother, Mother, I want to cry again ! 
 
 Balkis 
 
 If thou lovest him, Merla, thou shouldst 
 wish him well. 
 
 Merla 
 
 Look, I have fingered her gown. Tis of 
 vellum or some undrest skin 
 
 Balkis 
 
 No, girl, it hath a web. Look at the warp, 
 it is a woven piece. 
 
 Merla 
 
 It smells of the woods, and again it hath 
 the savour of a sawyers yard. So, so, Missy, 
 cast not your big eye-shine on me. I will do 
 you no harm. You milk-face, I'll do you 
 none till I see what you are after. 
 
 Geron 
 
 Come in, friends all, and welcome the pair. 
 Neanias shall carry her over the threshold to 
 the hearth. 
 
 66 
 
The TOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Sphorx 
 We'll do that, neighbour, we'll do that. 
 
 (All go in save Neanias and Aglae.) 
 
 Neanias 
 
 Now, O Bride, we are near one indeed. 
 
 my Bride my fair one, my much desired, 
 has life begur ? (He kisses her) Aglae ! the 
 warm blood floweth in your lips again. Life 
 is begun ! I will sing you an old song, Aglae, 
 when evening falls. 'Tis an evening song, 
 too sacred for this place. Tis a wedding 
 song for our wedding night, my Bride. Lo, 
 
 1 bear the Bride in my arms, across the 
 threshold of the floor. 
 
 (He carries her over the threshold.) 
 
 END OF ACT THE FIRST. 
 
 67 F — 2 
 
ACT THE SECOND 
 
ACT THE SECOND 
 
 A Stranger herdeth GerorCs sheep, 
 And robs Neanias; 
 Merla doth give what she could keep, 
 So cometh speech to pass. 
 
 In the cottage. November night. 
 
 Geron, Sphorx, Teucer, Mopsus, drinking 
 at a table. Balkis and Merla near them, 
 talking and knitting. Aglae sits apart, 
 sewing, and Neanias watching her. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 H friends, is it not well with us o' 
 these days ? 
 
 7i 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Geron 
 
 It is well, for beer is always well; and your 
 beer warmed when nights are sharp serves 
 to mind you how shrewish cold the fells 
 should be, and the apples bobbing in the 
 beer invite a man to be merry. For at such 
 times life goes to a tune. 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 Life goes to a tune according as a man is 
 tuneful, hath music. Not otherwise by no 
 means. Sphorx, now, should be ripe wi' 
 tunes like an old organ. 
 
 Sphorx (leaning back) 
 
 My soul is as it were a windy bag ; you 
 must jog me ere I sing. I should be squeezed. 
 
 Geron 
 I could a' squeezed ye ten year back. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 I can pinch ye, Sphorx, if it's only a mat- 
 ter of a nip here and there. Lords ! What a 
 knotty thigh. Sphorx, thou'rt a seasonable 
 vessel. 
 
 72 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 Alack, no vessel am I, but an humble in- 
 strument, friends, of the Lord's making, the 
 Lord's making. Well ! I will sing ye a stave 
 of an old antient tune, perhaps ye know it. 
 Tis all of a man and — 
 
 Geron 
 And a woman, for a thousand pound ! 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 There is mention of a female, and of cider, 
 and of sheep, and of a mans wife or wives. 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 God's justice ! Had he more nor one in 
 the song ? 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 He had that before he'd done. 
 
 Teucer 
 A man may do what he will in a song. 
 
 Sphorx 
 Shall I pitch you out the song ? 
 
 73 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Geron (singing) 
 
 Pascency's a bittock place, 
 Tight an' right an' cosy ; 
 
 The men all look you straight i* the face, 
 The girls are like a posy, 
 Clean an fresh an* rosy. 
 
 'Tis the chorus of the song — maybe ye 
 know it. (Sings.) 
 
 Martin Brewster, full-grown man, 
 Swore upon the Book, 
 For wife he'd have a cider can, 
 For bed the ingle-nook. 
 Petticoats he thus forsook. 
 
 Now for the chorus, friends, we have as 
 aforesaid — ' O Pascency — ' 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 1 say the chorus is a foolish chorus. 
 
 Sphorx 
 What's this, neighbour ? Am I Sphorx ? 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 An' I'll prove it before a jury of horse' 
 dealers. (They wrangle?) 
 
 74 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Merla (to Balkis) 
 
 Watch those two, Mother. I've watcht 
 em the evening long. Where she sits I 
 might 'a set ; what she does I could a done, 
 and better ; his eyne might 'a covered mine 
 with the same haste. 
 
 Balkis 
 
 He has taught her the use of pleasure, 
 Merla. 
 
 Merla 
 
 I'll warrant he has. 
 
 Balkis 
 
 She sees and feels, comes and goes but 
 through him. Day in day out she looks 
 nowhere but on him, or where he has gone, 
 or where he should be coming. For a month 
 after he brought her home she never smiled : 
 she had been bitterly scared. Now she 
 laughs for merest joy of him. 
 
 Merla 
 Does she laugh then ? 
 Balkis 
 
 Yes, she cannot help it. But she is very 
 modest; she only laughs whenas she thinks 
 
 75 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 no one is looking at her. She is the most 
 frugal girl of her blandishments I ever saw. 
 
 Merla 
 
 I would smarther him wi* kisses in the fat 
 beast-market o' Christmas if he were mine — 
 as he should be. 
 
 Balkis 
 
 Kiss him! She would sooner die than 
 touch his hand before me. 
 
 Merla 
 
 The fool ! With our time so short. And 
 does he not pine for a smack o' something ? 
 Is he fed ? Is he filled ? 
 
 Balkis 
 
 I have seen my boy grow a man through 
 love of her. She is a most gentle sort, and 
 as modest as a dead woman ; but pride is 
 aflame in her breast. She is as proud and 
 keen as a hawk. Do I not know? Well 
 she may be ! 
 
 Merla 
 
 Men say you were proud once, Mother 
 Balkis. 
 
 76 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Balkis 
 Child, there is a patient pride, and a pride 
 that trembles at a hurt ; there is a pride on 
 knees, and a pride where the knee may not 
 bend. Perhaps I am too proud to be ashamed 
 of a crooked knee : perhaps that was forced 
 upon me. 
 
 Merla 
 It might be forced upon her, I suppose. 
 
 Balkis 
 Maybe, maybe. Talk is idler than breath. 
 Geron [shouting) 
 
 Mopsus, ye thief, I'll pump it out of ye! 
 Where's my daughter? Let her judge be- 
 tween me and thee. Where's my daughter? 
 
 Balkis 
 
 I am here, father. {She rises and goes 
 over to the men.) 
 
 Merla 
 
 I should like to be by ; I should like to 
 humble her. She has stolen my lad : she is 
 a devil. A woman has bewitcht a woman 
 for less than this, to steal away her own lad. 
 He was always mine : who will deny it in 
 
 77 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Champney Valtort ? Will Marsyas deny it ? 
 Or Nautis deny it ? Did they not sue for 
 me feast after feast, sheep-eyeing and with 
 proffer of flowers and fairings ? Fairings ! 
 What have I to do with fairings, being love- 
 sick to death? Will Autonoe deny I chose 
 for Neanias ? She that stumbled between 
 Karthon and Milo, not knowing which to 
 choose, so askt me to choose first ? Neanias 
 was my only choosing, ever my choosing. 
 This milk-face, this fish-blooded who-knows- 
 who to have Neanias for man ! Who was 
 your mother, woman ? Bid her name your 
 father if she can : she can never name him. 
 Gorgo, blear-eyed and sans a tooth, is my 
 woman. She dwells by Knapwyk Edge, 
 in a split rock, and bewitches half the Wapen- 
 take. 
 
 * As the mankin frets i' the fire, 
 So fret you, my hate's desire.' 
 
 That's the right of it ; 'tis a matter of silver 
 money. Let her wither, let her wither, the 
 mute woman! Why, she's a witch herself; 
 that's as sure as salvation here and now. 
 Scared, was she? There's a rough music 
 might set her heart in her mouth. Goes to 
 
 78 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Church like a folded nun ; eats the Lord ; 
 kneels to Mary ; follows her man like a dog 
 at his heels — bitch- wolf! He'll peak and 
 dwindle when there comes a changeling child 
 with a parchmenty wise old face. O my 
 Nan, thou who wert so keen and so feat ! 
 O lad that I loved and dared not speak ! 
 Year by year I followed you : am I to follow 
 your coffin ? I shall follow in my own if so 
 be. Girl, I wish you sorrow who've brought 
 sorrow and shame unto me. 
 
 Geron (loudly) 
 
 I tell you all I heard the sheep : the wind 
 hath veered, she is getting out of the West. 
 There'll be wet before morn. 
 
 Teucer 
 Who cares? IVe bankt my roots. 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 There's wet a'ready if thou hast not suckt 
 it dry, Master Sphorx. Pass the dipper and 
 let me try the bowl again. Here's a health 
 to Kings, Queens, and Shepherds ! (Drinks.) 
 Now listen to me, for I've a tale to tell, being 
 wetter than I was. 
 
 79 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Neanias (low, to Aglae) 
 I could watch you for ever, Aglae, won- 
 dering at your gentle ways. You smile at 
 me : do you like me to say that ? When I 
 think of — no, no, don't be frightened, I won't 
 speak of such things ; they are done with — 
 but I may be humble before you, mayn't I ? 
 Do you shake your head ? Ah, love, love, it 
 is true though ! Your lineage I cannot even 
 guess at. I am but a young shepherd on my 
 grandad's grass. From that day when you 
 put up your hair you became a cottager's 
 woman. You must wear the cotton gown, 
 cramp your feet in worsted stockings and 
 worse. You wash, you sew, you peel pota- 
 toes, you rinse the less honourable parts of 
 pigs : you will work harder yet — Saints in 
 bliss ! there is work to be done. But I, 
 your sworn master, scarce dare touch you. 
 There is some sacred solemn thing comes 
 beaming from your quiet eyes ; you are so 
 altogether lovely, recluse, remote, dwelling 
 alone with the thoughts that lie behind your 
 lockt lips. Now I have told you this, how 
 dare you look proud of me? How dare 
 you, Aglae ? What more am I ? Nay, 
 never seek to kiss my hand ; never look 
 
 80 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 meek before me — what more am I ? Oh, 
 I know what you would say. Your shep- 
 herd is very near to Earth, He grows up 
 from her lap, he never quite leaves her 
 bosom ; he is her foster-child. He may hear 
 her heart-beats and drink of her tears. If 
 she smiles he knoweth why. He has listened 
 and he knoweth. She telleth him her secret 
 thoughts ; all the day long he may lie close 
 in her arms. No man so proper for that 
 sweet bed ; no man may be so ready to die 
 and mingle with her. We were as brother 
 and sister before her, Aglae, or ever we were 
 man and wife. Who so proper as a shep- 
 herd, Earth's foster-child, to catch to his 
 heart Earth's delicate, most timid Hour, and 
 keep it hidden there ? O my Virgin Dawn, 
 thus I caught you, my Virgin Dawn ! 
 
 Merla {plucking Balkis' gown) 
 See him now, see him now, Mother Balkis ! 
 
 Balkis 
 Heed the grandfather, he is risen. 
 (Silence. All listen to the wind at the door.) 
 
 Geron 
 I smell dog-fox. 
 
 Si g 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Sphorx 
 Returned to his vomit. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 The wise Sphorx, the radiant, sober 
 Sphorx ! 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 Eh, eh ! Who's not sober if Sphorx is 
 sober? There's a chance for me at this 
 quiet moment could I but set my knees hard. 
 I might rise. Let me lean on the table and 
 speak very loud. Antient comrades, listen 
 to a weeping man ! What is a priest, I was 
 saying, what, pray, is a priest but a mixture 
 of sects ? Being woman by virtue of his 
 petticoats and boy by reason of his sim- 
 plicity ! Then where is the man he should 
 be ? Answer me that : where is that man ? 
 
 Geron 
 
 The weather thickens, I tell you. Hark 
 to the wind. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Hey! That was a buffet. Well, we're 
 snug enough within. 
 
 82 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Mopsus 
 I weep, I tell you, for unreliable mischief. 
 Oh, yes ! 
 
 Geron 
 Rot the man ! Listen to the wind, I say. 
 
 Sphorx 
 Blow wind, shoot shower, bend tall tree ! 
 
 Balkis 
 Thy maid looks scared, Neanias. 
 
 Neanias 
 
 I know, I know. What beastliness these 
 old men have in their cups! I never saw 
 them so in my youth. 
 
 Balkis 
 
 You never saw them at all, son. Your 
 eyes are opened. You change, but they 
 change not 
 
 Neanias 
 O Mother, Mother, I love her ; she is my 
 dear ! 
 
 Geron (kitting the table) 
 
 Dog-fox is near by. Do ye smell him 
 now ? 
 
 83 g— 2 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Mopsus (drunk) 
 
 Let me speak, let me speak, or I burst 
 into tears. Would you see a man cry before 
 his time ? Why shouldn't I speak ? 
 
 Neanias {crosses to Aglae) 
 
 Aglae, come to me. Are you frightened, 
 Aglae ? No. Then why do you open your 
 eyes and fix them so ? And why do you 
 look at the window so quick ? What are 
 you waiting for ? Oh, you are white again, 
 and the chill grows! Let me chafe your 
 hands. Give me your two hands. 
 
 Balkis 
 She hears the rain beat at the casement. 
 
 Geron 
 That was never rain, daughter. Some 
 one knockt. There is shaking at the window. 
 
 Balkis 
 Who should knock such a night as this ? 
 It is the rose-bush torn loose by the wind. 
 
 Geron 
 
 No more of th*s. Boy, go you out and 
 see who's there. 
 
 8 4 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Neanias 
 
 Yes, grandfather. Stay, Aglae, I'll come 
 back to you. Let go my hand, my dear, let 
 go my smock. Why, Aglae, you are trem- 
 bling ; what's the matter, my girl ? 
 
 (A pause. All listen. Tempest?) 
 
 Balkis 
 
 There is something there. I heard it that 
 time. Listen now. What is that snuffling 
 at the door ? Breathing short and going, 
 breathing again hot and short? Hark, hark. 
 (She leans close to the door.) 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 Ho there ! 
 
 Geron 
 
 Be quiet, you old fool. Now listen all. 
 (Pause.) 
 
 Balkis (at the door) 
 I hear feet, hundreds of little feet outside. 
 
 Merla 
 
 Look at the dog! It's the sheep, it's the 
 sheep ! 
 
 85 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Geron 
 
 The sheep ! Is the world gone mad ? 
 tffe listens.) Lord of Creation, she's right. 
 The flock is loosed : the flock is passing down 
 the road without dog or shepherd. Mercy 
 and Love! 
 
 Sphorx [sitting down) 
 
 Righteousness and Peace have kist each 
 other. Very true words. Pass you the 
 dipper. 
 
 Geron 
 
 Where's my cloak? Where the devil's 
 my cloak ? Where's my crook then ? Balkis, 
 get my shoon on. What turmoil is this? 
 What upsetting? What rending asunder? 
 My shoon, woman ! {Balkis goes out.) Hope 
 of Heaven, am I stopt for a thick sole? 
 Come Kep, come boy, come neighbours! 
 Head 'em back, Kep, loo! loo! 
 
 (He bursts the door open ; the wind blows 
 in with dead leaves. Geron, Teucer, 
 Mopsus, and Sphorx go out.) 
 
 Neanias 
 Aglae, Aglae, wife, wife! O my lovel 
 
 86 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 The evil hour! No, no, let me go, let me 
 go, I say. I must go. 
 
 (He breaks away and goes out: the door 
 is left open. Aglae stands looking 
 out fixealy. A storm of wind and 
 rain.) 
 
 Merla (crossing to Aglae, faces her) 
 
 If you were not so ghastly white, if you 
 had not such piteous eyes, if your mouth 
 were not drawn with fear, I would kill you, 
 woman. They call red hair Judas hair ; they 
 say it means fire in the blood. There's fire 
 in mine to crack my skin — and you've litten 
 it. Where are you going, child? Do you 
 know my meaning? Will you take your 
 whining face abroad on such a night ? Ye'll 
 chill the rain with your secret ways. God to 
 judge me, she is muttering in a strange tongue! 
 She is dumb, she makes no sound, she looks 
 ever to the open door, she is dead wi' waiting 
 for something to peal upon us. Now, now, 
 now, she has bettered it ; she groweth taller 
 — she is very slim ! She is proud as the fi*e. 
 Shall I stop her ? Who knows what she 
 will do? I always said she was evil — God 
 
 87 
 
the Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 knows what she will do : and what Nan will 
 do when he finds her gone. Her eyes are 
 alight ! This is no young woman, but a clear 
 spirit. No, no, stop! Stay till your man 
 comes home. Stop you, face not the rain 
 and storm. I loved him ; you know I loved 
 him, and hated you for it. Stop, stop, stop ! 
 
 the light in her eyes ! . . . I can hold her 
 no more. 
 
 (Aglae goes out swiftly.) 
 
 She is gone ! Balkis, Balkis, Balkis ! She 
 is gone away, she hath left her home {running 
 about), she is clean gone. I am alone here ! 
 When Nan comes back he will kill me ; cer- 
 tain sure, certain sure ! Well, I'll die looking 
 at him like a stricken ox. To kill me a must 
 touch me. A'll take me by the neck and 
 force me down ; down I shall drop like a 
 sturdy sheep i' the totter — down, down, down ! 
 
 1 shall die with his touch upon me, looking 
 into his lordly eyes. Merla, my wench, thou 
 canst do no better, Hist! I hear his step 
 now, quick and eager, with murder in it. He 
 shall find me kneeling. {She kneels to a print 
 of the Holy Family.) Mother Mary, I am 
 going to die. 
 
 88 
 
The YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 (Enter Neanias hastily.) 
 
 Neanias 
 Aglae, fetch quickly my tipt-staff. Foolish 
 child, do you want to be blown away ? . . . 
 What, empty ? Who mocks me then ? The 
 fire is out, . . . pish, let it die ! Oh, Merla, 
 where is Aglae? Where is Aglae? Oh, Merla! 
 
 Merla 
 
 I am ready, Neanias. You have only to 
 hit me and I drop. 
 
 Neanias 
 
 Are you mad, fool ? Who has, ? 
 
 Where is my , my Aglae ? 
 
 Merla 
 
 She went, lad. I couldna stop her. I 
 tried, but she went swiftly, driven by the 
 fires she had in her. 
 
 Neanias 
 Fire ! and she so cold ! 
 
 Merla 
 
 She was cold an' white an' thrawn like a 
 rag, at first. Then her pride seemed to 
 
 8 9 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 quicken, an' she lit up like a beacon blaze, 
 an' out o' the door like a blown flame. 
 
 Neanias 
 
 I heard voices — the Sisters are screaming 
 up on the Fells. They have her again : she 
 was mine and now is theirs. Ah, never, 
 never, never! They shall see I am a man 
 by now ! Stay there, fool. 
 
 {Exit) 
 
 Merla 
 
 He never toucht me nor lookt upon me. 
 He thought nothing of me. Always Aglae, 
 always her ! These voices, voices in the 
 night, what are they ? (She listens, looking 
 out. The wind is furious!) I hear him at 
 the Moor Gate : an' the Beck's in flood ! He 
 has banged-to the gate. He is up the Fell ! 
 
 Voices (outside) 
 
 The night is awake ! Heu ! Heu ! 
 The night is angry and bare ! 
 
 Merla (kneeling) 
 
 Lucy and Agatha, Catherine, Ursula! 
 Mother of Jesus, I loved him, I love him ! 
 
 90 
 
The TOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Whither he went I went in his steps. I must 
 follow him now. 
 
 (She goes out. The Moor gate is banged-to 
 again. The wind blows through the Cottage 
 from the open door.) 
 
 END OF SCENE I. 
 
 91 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 SQEWIE SECOND 
 
 The top of the Fell. A strong wind, with rain, 
 blows the six standing trees: one tree is 
 down. Pan sits on the fallen tree, Aglae 
 croucht at his feet. The six Daughters 
 of Earth wheel round them, screaming. 
 
 The Six 
 
 CSHHE night is awake ; she is having the 
 lg i bent of her will, 
 gal Pan, Pan, O Pan ! 
 Pan sporteth abroad, who shall be still ? 
 
 Not I, not you, nor you ! 
 Pan sleepeth at noon ; he is fierce in the beat 
 
 Of the noon-day heat. 
 Who is the Shepherd dareth to pipe 
 
 Ere Pan's pleasure is ripe ? 
 Ho ! Now the night calleth, Pan is awake 
 
 Hungry, keen of his meat ! 
 Ho ! Look about there ! Ho, shudder and 
 shake, 
 Ye that are hasty of feet ! 
 
 92 
 
■=r 
 
 The TOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Fly, fly, fly ! Blow, wind, buffet us, blast ! 
 Shriek, rain, as you fall ; whip the waters, 
 fall fast, 
 Till the tree snaps as a mast ! 
 Scurry clouds, drive over the Moon's thin 
 
 face, 
 Dance as we dance ; 
 Lead the dance of the sky : 
 Who will do mischief? I ! 
 I ! and I ! and I ! 
 
 (They all form a ring round Pan and 
 Aglae) 
 
 Dryas {pointing) 
 
 O sisters, her quaint gown ! Cotton stuff 
 pincht by a leather belt. She is all hid but 
 her face and hands. The rain drives and her 
 gown clings. 
 
 Geerna 
 
 And her hair put up in a twisty knot. 
 Ho ! She is like a moulting pheasant. 
 
 Phceno 
 
 She hath worsted stockings : how can she 
 run down the wind ? O stormy rain, how I 
 love you ! 
 
 93 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Dryas 
 
 And oh, her little feet in prison! Poor 
 Aglae, what hast thou endured ? 
 
 Geerna 
 
 When does the hart come, sister, to spy 
 for the roe ? 
 
 Phoeno 
 Anon, anon, 
 
 Dryas 
 I hear his labouring step, panting and slow. 
 
 Erotion 
 His task- work shall near be done. 
 
 Sitys 
 The roe is fast in the toils : alas for her ! 
 
 Dryas 
 
 Alas for him ! 
 
 Adora 
 His eyes should be glazed and dim. 
 
 Phceno 
 He that was dainty and clean of limb. 
 
 94 
 
The YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Dryas (shrieking) 
 Foh ! What's there in the haze ? The 
 starved face of a man ! Cobwebs lasht on 
 his eyes : look, look, there's a rat ! 
 
 Erotion 
 
 The rat came to grope for his meal. There 
 shall be feeding hereafter for rat and for rain ; 
 and I shall sit on the ground and feed my 
 eyes full. Pan, Pan, I love you for this i 
 
 Sitys 
 Hush, hush down your voices, the shepherd 
 boy cometh. 
 
 (Enter Neanias. They all curtsey to 
 him, mopping and mowing.) 
 
 The Six 
 The night is awake, awake, awake, 
 Shrilly the wind doth blow : 
 The shepherd must toil till his heart-strings 
 
 break, 
 And then he shall stumble slow — 
 Slow, slow, slow ! 
 
 Erotion 
 Once more, Neanias. We welcome you 
 once more to our ring. 
 
 95 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Dry as 
 
 Neanias, you will soon have a beard. 
 What a pity ! 
 
 Neanias 
 
 1 am in no mood for this. Where is my 
 wife, you hell-cats ? 
 
 The Six (dancing about him) 
 
 His cheeks are wet with rain and tears, 
 
 Anger grindeth his tooth : 
 
 The salt gale tingleth in his ears 
 
 To spoil his pretty youth — 
 
 With ruth, ruth, ruth ! 
 
 Adora 
 
 Your heavens and hells are not for us. We 
 are of the earth. Cease your church-music, 
 therefore ; we are in a mad mood this night. 
 Pan ! How I love thee, Pan ! 
 
 Neanias 
 Oh, Adora, where is my wife ? 
 
 Adora 
 Nay, you must ask Phceno. 
 
 Neanias 
 Phceno, Phceno, I will have my wife. 
 
 96 
 
The YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Phceno 
 
 I am tired with dancing, Neanias ; ask 
 Sitys. 
 
 Neanias 
 
 I bid you, Sitys, render back Aglae. 
 
 Sitys 
 Oh, Neanias, you are comely when you 
 are so earnest. I can refuse you nothing, 
 though you refuse me much. Therefore, 
 you should ask Geerna. 
 
 Neanias 
 
 Geerna, ah, Geerna! Will you not give 
 me my Aglae ? 
 
 Geerna 
 
 Ask of Dryas, youth. I must go and 
 sport with the moon. She is quick. 
 
 Neanias 
 They are mocking me, Dryas? May I 
 not have my own again ? 
 
 Dryas 
 Now you are meeker, now you are much 
 meeker. Therefore ask Erotion. 
 
 97 » 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Neanias 
 Nay, I will never ask Erotion, but will 
 seek for myself rather. 
 
 Erotion 
 Seek Pan and your own woe then, for I'll 
 not stir to save you. Run on, run on ! 
 
 Neanias 
 
 In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus 
 Sancti. Imps of the dark and the Devil, 
 bring me to this Pan. What now? The 
 wind is lulled. 
 
 Pan 
 Pan is here. 
 
 Neanias 
 
 Who speaks like a great wind ? Whose 
 voice comes from afar off over the Fells ? 
 Who is hidden? What is that white pity 
 huddled and bound ? Ah, ah ! My love, my 
 dear, is it thou ? All's to do again, Aglae ; 
 thou art peakt as of old! O come away, 
 come to me, come with me ! The hearth is 
 growing cold, ashes choke up the fire, the 
 room is empty. O my dear heart, O my 
 faithful heart ! Satan, what hast thou to do 
 here between a man and his wife ? 
 
 9 8 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 SlTYS 
 
 The boy is bold. 
 
 Adora 
 Too bold. 
 
 Erotion 
 He is bold enough now. Stay, stay. 
 
 Pan 
 
 I am Pan, haunter of these wilds. All 
 breathing things confess me save only men. 
 These in their foolishness have said, Tush, 
 Pan is dead. Things breathing are for us 
 therefore ; let us rule them with stone and 
 iron. So man boasteth, and rideth abroad to 
 look upon all that is. Then I stretch out 
 my hand secretly and strike him blind with 
 terror He babbles with a silly tongue of 
 terror, loneliness, and the dark full of whispers. 
 And he that went out swiftly is stiller than 
 stone, and the prating tongue is clogged 
 with fear, and the roving eye frozen to the 
 socket thereof. Thou, Neanias, hast pried 
 too curiously, and too eagerly grabbed that is 
 mine. Thou little boaster! (Neanias covers 
 his face.) I am Pan still. And my hand is 
 upon thy flock, and thy kindred and all that 
 
 99 h — 2 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 thou callest thine ; but chiefest it is upon 
 that rebel whom thou thinkest to have to 
 wife. She is mine : was it not told thee in 
 the beginning ? She is mine : thou shalt 
 know it in the end. Seek no further; get 
 thee back and whimper as men use ; call on 
 thy gods by their names. They are thy 
 gods, but I am Pan, and the Earth is mine. 
 (Pan and Aglae disappear.) 
 
 Neanias {looking up) 
 
 His voice cometh down like the wind from 
 the furthest hills, and from the hills that feel 
 the sea. His voice is grave and even ! He 
 is like the motionless hills, and I break my 
 sinews against a rock. Aglae! Where art 
 thou, dear ? They have taken away my wife. 
 Mother, Mother, they have her again. Tush, 
 my mother is not here, and I am a man. I 
 had forgot it. What then ? Shall I give her 
 up ? Could I give you up, Aglae ? Do you 
 not know me yet, my girl ? If I am to break, 
 I will break. On then. {Going.) 
 
 The Six 
 
 Heu, heu, heu ! The storm fighteth the 
 air. 
 
 ioo 
 
The TOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Dryas {following Neanias) 
 Neanias ! Neanias ! 
 
 Neanias 
 Well! 
 
 Dryas 
 
 Hush ! Must you follow them ? 
 
 Neanias 
 
 My lass, if you knew anything of men, you 
 would know that they fear nothing save dis- 
 honour, and that they would rather lose life 
 than shame love. I do follow. 
 
 Dryas 
 But I think I love you, Neanias. 
 
 Neanias 
 If you love me, you will help me find Aglae. 
 
 Dryas 
 
 If I loved you, that is what I should never 
 do. 
 
 Neanias 
 
 Then you know nothing of love. You are 
 a wanton. Off ! 
 
 {Exit quickly,) 
 
 101 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Dryas 
 
 A wanton, what is that ? One who loves, 
 or who does not love? The boy is a fool, 
 but I love him for his foolishness. I love 
 him altogether. Am I wanton then, or no 
 wanton? {She sees Merla coming.) O 
 sisters, look, look, look ! 
 
 {Enter Merla. The Six gather round 
 her without her perceiving them!) 
 
 Merla 
 
 I'm a'most dead with loss of my breath, 
 loss of a shoe, loss of Nan. Where now ? 
 Blister the wet! Virgin Martyrs, what are 
 these women ? 
 
 Omnes 
 
 Merla, Merla, Merla ! 
 
 Merla 
 
 Sakes alive, is this a place for a decent 
 girl? Well, I never did. I'll Merl em, 
 What now, you tearsheets ? What now, you 
 shameless rompstalls? Will you profligate 
 my good name ? Don't ye know a respectable 
 gentlewoman when you see one in your 
 
 102 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 middle? Are ye not ashamed, ye flaunting 
 streetshows, are ye not ashamed to look upon 
 me ? Get ye gone and hide your legs, you 
 minions, and never come anigh me. Rain 
 and darkness round about us ! D'ye see my 
 arm ? I've dizzied a mad cow with un before 
 this. Out ! 
 
 Omnes 
 Merla, Merla, Merla, what do you seek ? 
 
 Merla 
 
 Seek! I'll tell you what I seek in a snack, 
 you saucy hussies. I seek a stick, I seek a 
 stiff stick, 
 
 Adora 
 
 You lie, Merla. You seek Neanias. He 
 is gone. 
 
 Merla 
 
 Gone! Then he was here. And he a 
 mated man. O bitter, bitter shame ! Where 
 is his woman then ? Where's his Aglae ? 
 
 Dryas 
 
 He is gone to find hen He will die if he 
 do find her. 
 
 103 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Merla 
 He must not die. 
 
 Dryas 
 Do you love him too, Merla ? 
 
 Merla 
 What's that to thee, little wanton ? He's 
 wedded her, he loves her. Oh, he loves her 
 deep ! That's enough for me. He shall 
 have his wife though Merla come to sorrow. 
 
 Dryas 
 
 It were better that Aglae sorrowed, for 
 then you would have him — perhaps. 
 
 Merla 
 
 How should I have him, loving Aglae, 
 little donkey ? 
 
 Dryas 
 
 Would he love her when she was dead? 
 Oh, I never knew that. 
 
 Merla 
 You know nothing at all. He is a true lad 
 
 Dryas 
 Shall I tell you whither he went ? 
 
 104 
 
The YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Merla 
 You will tell me if you have a good heart. 
 
 Dryas 
 I know nothing of your good and bad. I 
 love Neanias also. He went towards the 
 forest. Follow the white stones. 
 
 Merla 
 God will reward you, girl. 
 
 Dryas 
 What is a wanton, Merla ? Am I wanton ? 
 
 Merla 
 
 I don't know what you are, but you have 
 a good heart. God save you, girl. Holdup, 
 Merla. 
 
 (Exit Merla.) 
 
 SlTYS 
 
 Dryas is love-sick for a boy. 
 
 Geerna 
 Her boy will never be man. 
 
 Erotion 
 
 Pan will work out my grief. Ho ! I shall see 
 him again with Pan's mark on his forehead. 
 
 105 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Phceno 
 Listen. The wind drops. I hear the 
 voices of men. 
 
 Adora 
 
 More men ? 
 
 Sitys 
 
 Many more. See their lanterns a-s winging. 
 
 Geerna 
 
 Sit we here and wait their coming. Sing, 
 Dryas. 
 
 Dryas 
 No, no, I'll not sing. I am tired. 
 
 Phoeno 
 O, Dryas ! Are you fevered ; do you long? 
 
 Adora 
 
 Peace now, I will sing. 
 
 {Singing) 
 
 I saw a man and a maid 
 
 Courting dearly in a woodland shade. 
 
 He gave her shy mouth kisses seven : 
 
 1 My love,' quod he, * thou art my heaven ! ' 
 
 Thus the man to the maid. 
 
 1 06 
 
The TOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 I saw a man and his wife 
 Stare on the strown beach of their life. 
 Her eyes on his looked fierce and fell : 
 1 Man, thou hast shown me hell ! ' 
 Thus to the man his wife. 
 
 And thus, O Dryas, is the love of mortal 
 men and women. They look for more than 
 the eye can see, and win more than the heart 
 could fear. Silly folk ! 
 
 Sitys 
 
 Men are coming, many men — Hide, hide, 
 hide ! I go to the forest (rising). 
 
 Phceno 
 And I follow you near {rising). 
 
 Geerna 
 Men are sickly and dull : they die soon. 
 
 Adora 
 Come, I will hold you a race (rising). 
 
 Geerna 
 A race, a race in the air ! (rises). 
 (They go off. Erotion and Dryas remain?) 
 
 107 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Dryas 
 
 I am wanton, he said ; and she did not 
 deny it. But I love Neanias. Aglae too I 
 love as of my own age and standing among 
 the heath-people. Erotion, are you still so 
 bitter against him ? 
 
 Erotion 
 
 I am keen as a spoiled hawk. He fooled 
 me once. Now Pan shall fool him. Let 
 me be near. Good-bye, little sister, I am 
 for a hunting this night. 
 
 (Exit.) 
 
 Dryas 
 
 Erotion is wrathful, but I am in love. 
 Love makes my eyes wet when I think of 
 Neanias. Heigho ! Love makes my cheeks 
 hot. I am drowsy and full of deliciousness ; 
 but I cannot rest. I must find Neanias. 
 
 (She goes.) 
 
 END OF SCENE II 
 
 108 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 The edge of the Forest, Erotion and Dryas 
 looking into the thicket. 
 
 Erotion 
 
 GLAE is coming! Aglae is coming! 
 I will greet her. Mark now. (Sings.) 
 
 Pale Aglae drest in yellow 
 
 And forsworn ; 
 
 Grey her lips are, in her eyes 
 
 Shockt surprise 
 
 At such scorn 
 
 Come upon her from her dear bedfellow. 
 
 O for sure the times are bitter 
 
 When a maid 
 
 Slips her girdle, takes a ring ; 
 
 By her king 
 
 T hen's betrayed ! 
 
 How to seek another yoke to fit her ? 
 
 Ho ! Aglae, my parcht beauty, how now ? 
 Where is thy shepherd boy ? 
 
 109 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 (Agla£ runs in, howorstruck.) 
 No more lovely he. Pan hath him griped. 
 
 Dryas 
 
 O hush, sister, O hush ! Pan hath smitten 
 her again. Look at her eyes. Oh, he hath 
 blinded our little sister! (Aglae takes her 
 by the gown.) What is it, what is it Aglae ? 
 
 Erotion 
 
 Go not, go not, go not, Dryas, lest a fate 
 befall thee too, and we be but five left to 
 dance beneath the stars. 
 
 Dryas 
 
 But she is pulling me to her; I must 
 follow. Art thou hurt, Aglae? Hath Pan 
 struck — ? Ah, he has, he has ! And thou 
 art all too young for his wild way : thou art 
 as young as I. Has he . . . has he . . . 
 has he laid his hand . . . ? Oh, Aglae, he 
 hath never done it ! No, no, no ! I cannot 
 come then. I have never seen dead men. 
 I live in the sun and dance in the wind by* 
 green oaks ... no, no ... I cannot 
 see him. ( Whispers.) Aglae ! I loved thy 
 youth somewhat. I did not look for him to 
 
 no 
 
The TOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 ... to ... to die ! Oh, Aglae, what 
 shall we do ? Erotion will go ; she is con- 
 tented now ; she knows Pan's way. Oh, how 
 could he do it ? How could he do it ? . . . 
 Dear, dost thou need me ? Dost thou need 
 laughing Dryas of the Oak's crown ? . . . 
 Is he dead yet ? Is he dead yet ? No ! 
 Then, Aglae, let us go to help him. For if 
 I loved him who knew him not, how must 
 thou have loved him knowing all. 
 
 (They hurry out together, hand in hand.) 
 
 Erotion 
 
 Now I will be happy again. Now I will 
 sleep at ease. I will seek out a bank in the 
 forest where leaves lie thickly strewn and the 
 wind is not heard, and I will sleep till my 
 time comes again. Oh, my Mother Earth 
 and my dear, if you can be hard to resent, 
 you are sweet and warm lying, and some 
 there are who know your pleasant peace. 
 
 (She lies down and sleeps.) 
 
 END OF SCENE III 
 
 III 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 SCE&CE FOURTH 
 
 A clearing in the Forest. A Sheep/old with 
 many sheep. Pan solus. 
 
 Pan 
 
 HEN a man measures his eyes with 
 God he must fail. The boy was 
 bold, he was very bold. He fought 
 with my hand, pricking against it with boy's 
 
 f>ersistency, blubbering and sobbing in the 
 brest. Not for pain or fear ; no, but for 
 very impotence of passion ; panting his rage 
 against the fixt and steadfast-sure : how he 
 fought ! Yet he anger'd me, and I stretcht 
 out my hand and gript his shoulder bones, 
 and blew upon his eyes. Very quiet and 
 very deep, a shudder ran down all his limbs ; 
 he grew white, and in his eyes swam the glaze 
 of death, and of panic-fear in the face of death. 
 For a man clings to the earth for all his proud 
 words ; earth is all he knoweth. Pan is a 
 terrible God. No need of words when the 
 quailed limbs are rigid. I bound him not, 
 
 112 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 but left him rooted to a tree trunk, cloven 
 with wild dread of the dark and the tongues 
 of the forest : he and his little rebel, quailing 
 too and shockt blind. I, Pan, strike suddenly 
 with fear. My rage is quicker than a storm 
 at sea : who may abide it ? Well, let us 
 judge of the old mans sheep. If I love men, 
 I love sheep better. A handsome flock of 
 younglings as these eyes have seen. The 
 master of this flock should be after my own 
 heart What is this coming through the 
 sleepy wood? A girl's step, and a girl's 
 breathing, and a girl's singing. Let me see 
 this girl. 
 
 (He leans over the fold. Steps heard. ) 
 
 Merla (without, singing softly!) 
 
 Since thou didst love Christ best 
 Men shore thy hidden breast. 
 O Saint Agatha, Maid of God, 
 Jesus bowed Him from Holy Rood! 
 
 Pan 
 A fresh voice, undismayed. Let me see 
 this girl. 
 
 (Enter Merla.) 
 
 "3 
 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Merla 
 
 To think that I, Merla, cowherdess of 
 Champney Valtort, should wander in desolate 
 spaces of the night seeking for a married 
 man ! Is this a shame to me ? Never say 
 it, Merla, when it's for your Nan. Never 
 say it. The shame was when I grudged him 
 his white girl. She was dumb, but she could 
 speak wi' her eyes. Oh, she spoke to me this 
 night : her eyes were torches ; they were 
 Church candles on a black morning, " I must 
 face this out," she says. " I will have no more 
 sickening delay," she says. " Bring me before 
 this threatener," she says, and rises tall as a 
 queen-mother. " Where is this skulkin' fel- 
 low ? " she says. — Mother's Mercies, who's 
 yonder? A man, by the light we have, a 
 shagged an' blinking man ! What gnarly 
 tree-bole of a face is this ? What eyes like 
 darkling water ! What cruddled hands ! O 
 his brows, like a stubbit thorn ! What were 
 best now ? I am that tired I scarce can drag, 
 much less make a run. The little one told 
 me the way to travel. Oh, I've not mist it, 
 I'm near by. And I'll not be scared from my 
 lawful down- 1 -sit for a troop of dragons. 
 He's staring me out. Let him stare then. 
 
 114 
 
 ■ 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 1» 
 
 I've got a beady pair as 'ull tame him if he 
 tries worse. 
 
 (She sits down.) 
 
 Pan 
 
 This girl hath the shape of a polled heifer. 
 She is neckt like a drake. " The head of a 
 snake, the neck of a drake ; sided like a team, 
 and chined like a bream " — the old rhyme fits 
 her well. It is long since Pan was in love 
 with the sinew and tan of a country wench. 
 Her hair is roped brass ! Strong and able, 
 and fresh as wet roses ! What else is worth 
 our loving in a world grown stale and queasy ? 
 (Aloud) Girl, you should be a-bed. 
 
 Merla 
 What business o' yours, gaffer ? 
 
 Pan 
 
 My business takes a wide outlook. 
 
 Merla 
 
 Wide enough to snatch another man's 
 sheep, it ud seem. {Aside) That bullet 
 should find a billet. 
 
 115 1—2 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Pan 
 What do you know of sheep, my lass ? 
 
 Merla 
 
 Not so much as you know of sheep-lifting, 
 my manny, nor so much as the jail knows of 
 you, I reckon. 
 
 Pan 
 
 You make free. 
 
 Merla 
 
 You'll not make so free when Master 
 Geron finds you, old lad. There's iron 
 bracelets on the road. Are ye rope-ripe, ye 
 villain ? 
 
 Pan 
 
 Merla, come here. 
 
 Merla 
 
 If you know my name you know my way. 
 I come to no man's bidding, or never have 
 yet. 
 
 Pan 
 
 Merla, come here. 
 
 Merla 
 Say it again. 
 
 116 
 
The YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Pan 
 
 Nay, I am not Neanias. 
 
 Merla [jumping up) 
 
 Madam Virgin, who is this old man ? 
 Sir (if sir you be), if you know where that 
 lad now lies, if you tell me moreover how to 
 find him, I will bless you in my prayers. I 
 am an honest girl, and will bless you. 
 Neanias hath gone into the waste to look 
 for his young wife — a slim girl that speaks 
 wi' her eyes, being else as mute as any fish. 
 Some stuttering demon, some Barguest or 
 fog-devil hath sundered them by his scream- 
 ing, and now they two wander the fells looking 
 for each other. Sir, I will tell you the truth. 
 I loved Neanias, and could never abide the 
 girl. To see them billing, to see them sit an' 
 gaze each at t* other, was gall to my pride. 
 I hated her for her robbery of me ; I wisht 
 her all manner of evil. And evil has come, 
 and I brought it. But God's love and my 
 own love have redeemed me, and now I wish 
 them heartily well. Oh, I should wish to see 
 them back again at their loving ! O sir, I 
 don't know why, but I do believe you can 
 help. Is there no way? 
 
 117 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Pan 
 
 There is a way, Merla. {Aside) The girl's 
 breath is like a cow pasture ; I feel the 
 Spring. Pan loves, Pan loves ! 
 
 Merla 
 What is the way ? 
 
 Pan 
 
 Wouldst thou know, lassy ? Art thou kind ? 
 
 Merla 
 Kind? 
 
 Pan 
 
 What's the song all the world must sing, 
 Merla ? 
 
 Merla 
 Nay, I never heard it. 
 
 Pan 
 
 Not heard the song o* the world ? Hark 
 then : 'tis couple, and couple, and couple. 
 
 Merla 
 Hands off, old knave, or I'll box your ears. 
 
 118 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Pan 
 
 Box away, my girl. {Merla cuffs him 
 soundly.) Ho, ho ! I like thee better and 
 better. When shall it be, Merla, when shall 
 it be? 
 
 Merla 
 
 The old fool's for a wedding! Too for- 
 ward by half. Get thee out, old rogue, and 
 deal honestly ; forswear sheep-nicking, and 
 seek no young woman's looks till thy beard 
 be combed. I've no mind to be kissed by 
 a harrow. Mercy now, somebody's coming ! 
 If I should be caught here it's all over 
 Champney Valtort by early Church. Let go 
 my hand, ye hardy vagabond, I'll have to 
 hide! 
 
 (She runs behind the trees. Enter Geron, 
 
 Teucer, Mopsus, and Sphorx, with 
 
 lanterns.} 
 
 Geron (eagerly) 
 
 I track 'em to be here ! They've been 
 here : Luke and John, they are even here ! 
 If them's not my sheep, let my pair eyes drop 
 out. Now, in Fortune's name, what's this 
 here ? My sheep penned and peaceful. Nary 
 dog, nary herd ; but a man leaneth athwart 
 
 119 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 a hurdle tapping his teeth. This is a fearful 
 night, a tejus solemn night! 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Sphorx, you're a personable man, a Gospel- 
 man, a stored and ripe man. Do you go first. 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 Never, cousin, after the shamed thing I 
 am. Here I stand, Sphorx the elder, capering 
 over the hills like a hardy goat, night through 
 wet through, in the springing grass, with my 
 bed cold and far — to no valuable end. I to 
 address yon' ruminant ! Set Mopsus first, and 
 let me cover my grey hairs. 
 
 Mopsus 
 My legs are running streamlets, I cannot 
 stand at all. My sweat riseth to meet the 
 rain. 
 
 Geron (to Pan) 
 Evening, master, A fine flock I see. 
 
 Pan 
 
 Yes, yes. A nicetish lot o' stuff. Happen 
 you were wanting any ? 
 
 1 20 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Geron 
 
 I'll let you know about that, master, but 
 I'll count 'em first, by your leave. (He gets 
 into the pen and begins to count.) . . . six, 
 eight, twelve . . . get over there, you 
 swine . . . eighteen, score . . . God's 
 Image, it's the figure to a digit! (goes on 
 counting fast '.) 
 
 Sphorx (to Pan) 
 
 You keep gay hours, sir. 
 
 Pan 
 
 And you, friend, have been gay this night. 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 Ah, ah, there ! He was by ! Sir, I stand 
 avoucht for a common narum-scarum, over- 
 strenuous for years and station. Yet the 
 errand was good ; 'fore the Lord, it was 
 honestly begun ! Happen, you're from Min- 
 ster-Merrow way, sir ? 
 
 Pan 
 
 Happen I were? 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 I have seen your face somewhere before. 
 
 121 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 — '■— 
 
 I mind not the precision of it, but it would 
 be in the open lands. To resume, sir, to 
 resume the defences ; my errand, I tell you, 
 was honestly begun. A matter of sheep, sir, 
 a matter of sheep scattered and lost. 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 A matter of a boy, sir, of a full-grown 
 man child. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 A little matter of a girl wandered, and 
 sorrowing relations. 
 
 Pan 
 
 And a matter of barley-brew, neighbour. 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 Sir, there shall be no deceit between you 
 and me. With Mopsus it was a matter of a 
 thought of beer. 
 
 Geron {shouting) 
 
 That's my old wether! That's the old 
 belled sheep for a gallon of ale ! Now then, 
 master, you listen to me. I've kept sheep 
 for fifty year, an I've known 'em for sixty. 
 I'm a well-known, solid, churchwarden kind 
 
 122 
 
 » 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 of man, fair and square, gi's your fist, wet 
 your bargain and be damned kind of man, I 
 am. I've lost a likely flock o' sheep this 
 night — four-score prime hoggets, two score 
 tegs, an' a bell-wether I wouldna change for 
 a hunder pound. Well-beknown sheep i' the 
 hamlet, markt i* the left buttock with a deep 
 G. in ruddle, an' a tar-line down the back to 
 keep the wolves away. Where are those 
 sheep, master, if they are not here ? 
 
 Pan 
 Fair and softly, old man. Your neighbour, 
 being clear of his liquor, shall tell you. 
 Master Mopsus, do you overlook one of 
 those lambs. Read us the markings. 
 
 Mopsus (after looking in silence) 
 
 Wandering gentleman-born, Geron, and 
 all friends, I will tell the truth. I would tell 
 it if the parson were here, and God knows 
 he is not. These lambkins are markt with a 
 P. in ruddle on the right buttock, an* a tar- 
 ring round the neck to keep the wolves away. 
 
 Geron 
 
 That's my old bell-wether for a gallon of 
 beer ; witchcraft hath done it. 
 
 I2 3 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Pan 
 
 Would you know the rest of the lost flock 
 if you saw it? Not all sheep were lost 
 to-night, eh, friends ? 
 
 Teucer 
 
 Right, right. I had clean forgot. There 
 was a lad and his lassie. A matter of this 
 old man's grandson, and a grave, silent girl 
 appurtenant thereunto. 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 Item, item, item ! A frolic red-cheekt girl 
 wi* hair on flames, and a grand milker — so 
 she was, Teucer, and you should know it — 
 lost this night. Name o' Merla. Handsome 
 gal, with a loud and masterful way of her 
 own, very taking at first. 
 
 Pan (aside) 
 
 Hum, I like these folks. I'm no God to 
 be angry for ever. The bold-eyed wench 
 hath done it, or may do it if I teach her to 
 sing my song. {Aloud) Might that youth be 
 called Neanias? 
 
 Geron 
 
 That is the name of my dead son's son. 
 
 124 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 He was a peart and simple boy, and feared 
 nothing. And he loved sheep and knew 
 them ; and open weather he loved, and all 
 growing things. More than ever I saw in 
 moor or coppice or breaking hedge-row, he 
 saw. He was a good lad. If he is dead he 
 is the last of us, for I'm on the edge of the 
 grave. My land is held to me and my heirs 
 for ever ; and he, being the last, is dead first. 
 That was my boy's name, sir, sure enough. 
 
 Pan 
 And the girl ? 
 
 Geron 
 
 They called her name Aglae ; I liked her 
 mainly. She was high-born, I could see (for 
 I've a shrewd eye for my betters), and timid 
 she was, and subservient. Withal her meek- 
 ness became her well, being patience without 
 abasement. Nothing was too low for her to 
 stoop to, yet in stooping she seemed lifted 
 up. She was always dumb, sir, and very 
 gentle. And if my boy be dead, 'twill be well 
 she die also, for dumb grief worketh to frenzy 
 and a frozen heart, God knoweth ! That old 
 bell-wether should be mine; he should, or I'm 
 past work. 
 
 125 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Pan 
 
 Let us see. I will tell you of your sheep, 
 sir. Master Sphorx, do you know your way 
 home ? 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 Do I know the road ? Let my right hand 
 forget her cunning if I know it not. I've a 
 wife a-bed : I shall be home soon enough. 
 
 Teucer 
 
 I hope my wife is a-bed ; but I doubt, I 
 doubt terribly. 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 I know my wife is not a-bed. There's 
 conversations for me in the small hours. 
 
 Pan 
 
 Master Geron, I like you well for the sake 
 of the trade you follow ; I like you better for 
 your solid parts. It is hard matter for a man 
 to live in the open and be a sniveller. Yet you 
 are stouter than most. Trust me, master, 
 go your ways in peace. You will find your 
 sheep where they should be. Go your 
 ways. 
 
 126 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Geron 
 
 Sir, I know your face and powerfully like 
 your conversation. Where is my boy and 
 girl ? 
 
 Pan 
 
 Well, well, well. They may come home 
 yet. I told you to trust me. 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 There was some small matter, sir, of a 
 red-haired gal. 
 
 Pan 
 
 There is matter of many things, Sphorx. 
 Go your ways, good friends. 
 
 Geron 
 
 I'm no fool, neighbours. I trust that hairy 
 man. 
 
 Mopsus 
 
 A hairy man he is, Geron. Yet gentleman- 
 born. 
 
 Geron 
 
 My heart is uplifting. I bid ye good-night, 
 sir. 
 
 127 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Sphorx 
 
 And good-night to you, sir. I shall look 
 to see you at Minster-Merrow fair. 
 
 Pan 
 Good-night all. 
 
 Omnes 
 
 Night, sir, night, sir! 
 
 {Exeunt.) 
 
 Pan 
 Merla, Merla! 
 
 (She crawls from the thicket!) 
 
 Merla 
 
 My name's been flying. Tis time for me 
 to be off lest I lose it altogether. 
 
 Pan 
 Tack it on to mine, girl, tack it on to mine. 
 
 Merla 
 
 And what might that be then? Who's 
 your folk? What's your property? How 
 do you come here, old gallus-bird, speakin' 
 
 128 
 
The WUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 wi* honest lasses? Get you gone; I'm 
 ashamed. What have you to do with me ? 
 
 Pan 
 
 Do you think so lightly of your friends, 
 Merla? 
 
 Merla 
 Friends ! Wholesome friends ! 
 
 Pan 
 But Aglae, Merla ? What of her ? 
 Merla 
 
 Aglae, my boy's woman ! O Virgin, I 
 must bring her back. 
 
 Dryas {outside) 
 
 O Pan, O Pan, O Pan ! 
 
 Pan 
 
 Timely, timely ! 
 
 Dryas (outside) 
 
 O Pan, O Pan, O Pan ! 
 
 Merla 
 
 There is crying in the wood. There is 
 sound of flight in the air. I'm alive, but no 
 more. 
 
 129 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Dryas (jimrer) 
 
 O Pan, O Pan, O Pan ! 
 
 Merla 
 
 Jesus, Mary, look at this ! 
 
 (Dryas comes in swiftly and falls at 
 Pan's feet.) 
 
 Dryas 
 
 lord Pan, save them, save them, save 
 them ! They are near to dying, they are 
 frost-bit, they stare with their eyes ! O Pan, 
 they have frost in their hair, their hairs are 
 stiff with frost! Lord, lord, be pitiful! I, 
 who never knew sorrow before, have tears — 
 see, see ! 
 
 Pan 
 
 1 see thee, Dryas. Merla, what of Aglae ? 
 
 Merla 
 Save, save, save — O God ! 
 
 Pan 
 Merla can loose them if she will. She 
 knows the song she should sing. Ask her, 
 Dryas. 
 
 Dryas 
 O Merla, you said I was wanton. 
 
 130 
 
The YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Merla 
 
 I said you had a good heart, child. You 
 have. You have found the grace of tears. 
 Say no more ; you shall never ask me in vain 
 what I askt of you and gained. {To Pan) 
 Master Pan, will he and she have their dear 
 desire ? 
 
 Pan 
 
 They shall be loost. 
 
 Merla 
 
 But I must be tied ? 
 
 Pan 
 
 Sing the song of all the world, Merla. 
 
 Merla [aside) 
 
 I'll set you some singing, old shagpoll, 
 when I've got ye to church ! {Aloud) Give 
 them their dear desire. I stay. 
 
 Pan 
 
 Off, Dryas, off 
 
 {Exit Dryas, swiftly!) 
 
 END OF SCENE IV. 
 
 I 3 I K — 2 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 SCE&CE FIFTH 
 
 The Cottage at dusk. Epiphany Eve. Balkis 
 knitting, Aglae toasting bread at the fire. 
 
 Balkis 
 
 T has stopt snowing, but the night 
 falls fast. They will soon be in. 
 Have you the water boiling, Aglae ? 
 
 Aglae 
 
 Yes, mother. All is ready. There are hot 
 cakes in the oven. 
 
 Balkis 
 
 You will make your man too sleek, child, 
 with such fare. He'll never face the night 
 after hot food. 
 
 Aglae 
 
 Neanias fears nothing. I should know how 
 bold he is. Mother, what can I do for him 
 that I do not ? 
 
 132 
 
The YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 Balkis 
 
 Aglae, Aglae, I think you do more than 
 you know. I know you do more than he 
 thinks. For I too was tamed long ago. 
 
 Aglae 
 
 Mother, he took the spell away ; he gave 
 me ... he gave me my soul. He has 
 told me that Jesus is my God ; but I think it 
 is he. 
 
 Balkis 
 
 Have you told him everything, Aglae ? 
 
 Aglae 
 
 All, all, all. Not with my tongue : I can- 
 not speak much of things. What need of 
 speech ? For he knows. 
 
 Balkis 
 What? 
 
 Aglae" 
 
 That I love him. Yet I have never told 
 him so. 
 
 Balkis 
 I warrant he has askt it of thee. 
 
 133 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 Aglae 
 Then I have said, yes. 
 
 Balkis 
 Still shy, Aglae ? 
 
 Aglae 
 
 There are things we never speak ; but we 
 do them. That is better. 
 
 Balkis 
 
 Much better. Yet he was glad enough of 
 thy speech, child. He told me that day he 
 brought thee back the second time, how thou 
 didst call to him in the night, like a running 
 brook, with a voice like water suddenly free. 
 "Neanias, Neanias, Neanias," thou didst cry ; 
 clear as a horn in frosty air, and smoother 
 and more glad than a singing-bird was thy 
 music, he told me. But then for sobbing 
 thou didst say no more that night. 
 
 Aglae 
 There was no need, mother. 
 
 Balkis 
 Some God brought you two together ; the 
 good God of country people. Send he keep 
 
 134 
 
The TOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 you so ! Hark ! I hear them in the snow, 
 knocking their boots. 
 
 Aglae 
 
 I heard them long ago. {She opens the 
 door and calls.) Neanias ! 
 
 Neanias {outside) 
 
 Is that you, Aglae? {Enter Neanias.) A 
 solemn cold night, with a star-sparkle that 
 bespeaks a frost. 
 
 {Enter Geron stamping.) 
 
 Geron 
 
 Shrewish cold work on the fells, let me 
 assure ye. See the rime in my beard. 
 Daughter, my dry.shoon. 
 
 Balkis 
 
 Yes, my father, I have them. 
 
 (Geron sits and Balkis tends him. 
 Aglae kneels before Neanias to do off 
 his boots.) 
 
 Neanias 
 
 I never like to see you at such work, my 
 Aglae. 
 
 135 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 
 
 Aglae 
 Give me a harder task, that I may do it. 
 
 Neanias 
 Aglae, here. 
 
 (She lifts her face to his ; he whispers) 
 Art thou still all my maid, Aglae ? 
 
 Aglae (whispering) 
 Yes, Nan. (He kisses her.) 
 
 Geron 
 
 Now then for a fill-up. Gi' us a snack, 
 wenches ; let me eat some meat this Tiphany 
 Eve. 
 
 Aglae 
 
 Your broth is waiting, grandfather. 
 
 (Geron, Neanias, and Balkis sit at meat. 
 Aglae serves them.) 
 
 Neanias 
 
 Whom would you think I have seen this 
 day ? I have seen Merla. Whither she has 
 been, what done, what left undone, she would 
 not say. I have never seen her since . . . 
 that night. She was here in this room then ; 
 
 136 
 
The YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 I left her here. She tells me she is thinking 
 of a wedding. 
 
 Balkis 
 That's very well. 
 
 Geron 
 Who's she to wed with, boy ? 
 
 Neanias 
 
 She tells me there is to do with a shag- 
 haired man, who if not wed should be wed. 
 
 Geron 
 
 A shag-haired man ! Might he be from 
 Minster- Merrow way ? 
 
 Neanias 
 
 I don't know. He hath sheep, she tells 
 me; knows something of sheep. But a 
 masterful man, I understand. 
 
 Geron 
 Hum ! She will have trouble I doubt. 
 
 Neanais 
 
 Oh, there hath been some trouble. Merla 
 doth not square her jaw for nothing. But 
 
 137 
 
The Pastoral of PAN and 
 
 she saith the man is well-to-do, is passing 
 fond of her, even to doting, so she despairs 
 not of bringing him up to the altar-step in 
 time. Sooner the better. But once there, 
 leave all to Sir Topas. He would christianize 
 a he-goat. 
 
 Geron 
 
 He hath christianized a many. 
 
 Aglae 
 He hath christianized Aglae. 
 
 Neanias 
 
 Tomorrow is the Epiphany Feast, Agla£. 
 You shall come to Church and see the world 
 with me. Shall I give you the Epiphany 
 song, Aglae ? 
 
 Aglae 
 Yes, Nan. 
 
 Neanias 
 Thus it goes : {Sings) 
 
 On a winter's night, 
 Frosty was the weather ; 
 
 138 
 
The YOUNG SHEPHERD 
 
 There came three Kings from far countree, 
 Out of the East together. 
 
 The one he carried gold, 
 
 The other he carried myrrh, 
 
 The youngest he bore an incense-boat, 
 
 And he was Balthasar ! 
 
 And when they came to Bethlehem, 
 To Jesus and to Mary, 
 They bowed unto the snowy ground 
 That biting January. 
 
 Said Gaspar, Take this gold 
 In fire twice refined 
 In token, Lord, of all those pains 
 To which thou art resigned. 
 
 King Melchior then said, Lord, 
 This myrrh it is thy savour, 
 A sweet and seemly offering 
 To win high Heaven's favour. 
 
 Then that young Balthasar 
 He fell to gentle crying, 
 O Lord, thy pity saveth us 
 Whose incense is our sighing ! 
 
 139 
 
Pan and the Young Shepherd 
 
 Now blessed is the Son, 
 And blessed twice the Mother ; 
 For if God had not chosen her, 
 Our Lord had needs been other ! 
 
 (Neanias hath Aglae fast by the hand!) 
 
 EXPLICIT COMEDIA JUVENIS PASTORIS 
 
 140 
 
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