SELMA--There is no fairy with a name like that. OSWALD--He is the prince of fairies and of fiends. Father Paul says that oft on stormy nights, When stars scarce venture to the brink of heaven, Witches go down the sky scattering fogs, Diseases, blights, and death, and with them go Those whom their cursed arts have wrought upon To taste the air of Hell. Far in the West, From every quarter of the earth and sky And from those awful rivers, they assemble And hold their sabbaths on a windy cliff, A headland hanging over the edge of the world, About whose base an ocean bellows so That nothing dares approach save frenzied things. There, while the moon protrudes an awful horn Far off at sea and rocks among the waves, They curse God's watchful planets from the sky And lead their converts, dizzy with the brew, To trample on the blood of Christ and swear To serve the arch-demon who is known to them As Barrabam. A while ago you said You did not know his name as Satan. Selma,-- SELMA--You said he used my hair, but 'tis not mine. The other day I saw him in the stream Snaring the silver chubs. Said he: "My lass, I'll give two shiners for a lock of hair." "To snare the fishes with! You horrid man. I will not give it." And I ran away. 'Tis not my hair he uses. OSWALD--(_Aside._) What a child! Walking in darkness to the Tempter's snare. Oh, I would die for you! SELMA-- You run away. (_He looks at her._) You cannot guess what I found in the wood. OSWALD--You do not know what danger you are in. SELMA--I know the ground-bird lays five speckled eggs; That filberts wear green hoods. OSWALD-- Oh, what of that? What will that profit in the Judgment Day? You have not been baptized. You do not hear The terrible, terrible, groanings of the lost. O God, you do not know, you do not know! SELMA--I know the wood-pink is the first to wake Of all the flowers. I know where king-cups grow And wink-a-peeps that sleep when days are dark. I know when shadows lie beneath the boughs As they do now, I know you'll never find A squirrel or chipmunk out in all the wood, For then the forest sleeps. And I know where--