HOLGER. Oh, thou art hungry! (_He turns to the shelf, takes his own
untasted bowl of porridge, brings it to her_) Dame, here is food!
WOMAN. (_Rousing_) Food, give it to me, child, I am dying for food!
(HOLGER _gives her the porridge and sits down on the floor beside
her._)
HOLGER. (_Watching her as she devours the porridge_) _Ah, poor
soul!_--Why, thou wert starving!--Na, just see!--Mother says that's what
makes my little brother so round and rosy, because he eats so much
porridge,--you like it, don't you?
WOMAN. It is life itself! (_Her voice has grown young and strong. Sinks
back again as she has eaten it all_) Bless thee, Child!
(HOLGER _sets the empty dish aside on the hearth and turns to feel
her hands._)
HOLGER. Oh, thou art warm!
WOMAN. Aye, warm! (_In a voice increasingly rich and sweet. At this
moment there comes the distant sound of organ music._ HOLGER
_straightens suddenly in a listening attitude_) Listen,--is that music?
HOLGER. From the Cathedral!--Aye, it must be,--last summer we could hear
it plain, and now with so many thousands there! (_Leaves the woman and
stands in the center of the room listening attentively_) It's
beginning!--(_Pause_) Everyone is there!
WOMAN. Why are they there.
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