FELSMAN. The air.

There is a faint wailing of wind.

SEELCHEN. To freeze me.

FELSMAN. The silence.

The noise of the wind dies away.

SEELCHEN. Yes, it is lonely.

FELSMAN. Wait! And the flowers shall dance to thee.

And to a ringing of their bells. THE FLOWERS come dancing;
till, one by one, they cease, and sink down, nodding, falling
asleep.

SEELCHEN. See! Even they grow sleepy here!

FELSMAN. I will call the goats to wake them.

THE GOATHERD is seen again sitting upright on his rock and
piping. And there come four little brown, wild-eyed, naked
Boys, with Goat's legs and feet, who dance gravely in and out of
The Sleeping Flowers; and THE FLOWERS wake, spring up, and fly.
Till each Goat, catching his flower has vanished, and THE
GOATHERD has ceased to pipe, and lies motionless again on his
rock.