(An old white haired man clad in a scholar’s robes totters on, bearing with difficulty a large vellum bound book.  The PRIEST takes a step forward to relieve the Old Man of his burden, and as he goes up the altar steps the Sage sinks exhausted to his knees, listening with straining senses for the bells.—­They do not ring.  The PRIEST blesses the old man and helps him to rise.  He turns back and stands near the COURTIER at the left.)

(A lovely young girl enters, dressed in pale green satin, her arms filled with a sheaf of white lilies.  The very way she carries them and bends her head to catch their fragrance shows that to her they are the most beautiful things in the world.  Kneeling she gives them into the hands of the PRIEST, and as he offers them, she listens with childish confidence for the ringing of the bells.—­Still there is no sound save the organ music and the singing of the choir, subdued almost to a breath as the gifts are offered.  Abashed as the PRIEST blesses and dismisses her, the young girl steps back and stands near the old Sage.)

(There is a stir in the chancel, even the PRIEST turning to watch.  The KING enters.  He is a man of forty with tall distinguished figure and a proud face.  His purple robes, richly jeweled, trail far behind him and on his head he wears his crown.  Everyone leans forward watching with the greatest tension.  The KING, exalted with his mood of selfsacrifice kneels, removes his crown and lays it in the hands of the PRIEST. HOLGER crouching in the shadow quivers with anticipation.  Again the pantomime of hope and failure.  The PRIEST turns back to the KING and raises his arm in the customary gesture.  The KING starts to rise then suddenly as though overcome at this spiritual defeat sinks again to his knees before the altar and buries his face in his hands, praying.  The PRIEST stands with arms crossed upon his breast, regarding him sorrowfully.)

HOLGER. (Overwhelmed with disappointment, softly to the woman) Perhaps there are no chimes, perhaps the Christ hears us not!

WOMAN.  Have faith,—­have faith in God.

HOLGER.  I would that I could give my pennies to the Child.

    (The KING rises from his prayer and goes sadly to the right,
    standing near the lady in red.)

WOMAN. (In a low ringing voice that thrills like the call of a trumpet) Go up, my son,—­fear not—­The Christ-Child waits for all!