-go-round. So there's no doubt that the
ferry-wife is a witch. But as for the Wishing-Pool, it is as lost as it
was before the white hart led two lovers to discover it at separate
times, and having brought them together passed with them and its secret
out of men's knowledge. For neither it nor Harding nor Rosalind was
seen again in Sussex after that day. And yet I can tell you this much
of their fortunes: that whatever befell them wherever they wandered, he
was a king and she a queen in the sight of the whole world, which to
all lovers consists of one woman and one man; and their lives were
crowned lives, and they carried their crown with them even when they
came in the same hour to exchange one life for another. But this was
only a long and cloudless reign on earth.

Jane: Well, it is a satisfaction to know that. For at certain times
your story seemed so overshadowed with clouds that I was filled with
doubts.

Joan: Oh, but Jane! even when we walk in the thickest clouds on the
Downs, we are certain that presently some light will melt them, or some
wind blow them away.

Joyce: Yes, it never once occurred to me to doubt the end of the story.

Jennifer: Nor to me. And so the clouds only kept one in a delicious
palpitation, at which one could secretly smile, without having to stop
trembling.

Jessica: Was it possible, Jane, that YOU could be deceived as to the
conclusion of this love-story? Why, even I saw joy coming as plain as a
pikestaff.

Martin: And I, with love for its bearer. For that magician, who touches
the plainest things with a radiance, makes plain girls and boys look
queens and kings, and plain staves flowering branches of joy. And in
this case I can think of only one catastrophe that could have obscured
or distorted that vision.

Two of the Milkmaids: What catastrophe, pray?

Martin: If Rosalind had refused to believe in anything so silly as
magic.

The silence of the Seven Sleepers hung over the Apple-Orchard.

Joscelyn: Then she would have proved herself a girl of sense, singer,
and your tale would have gained in virtue. As it stands, I should not
have grieved though the clouds had never been dispersed from so foolish
a medley of magic and make-believe.

Martin: So be it, if it must be so. We will push back our lovers into
their obscurities, and praise night for the round moon above us, who
has pushed three parts of her circle clear of all obstacles, and awaits
only some movement of heav