Chapter II: Mary at the Well

_Mary._ Along the garden walk, and thence Through the wicket in the garden fence, I steal with quiet pace, My pitcher at the well to fill, That lies so deep and cool and still In this sequestered place. These sycamores keep guard around; I see no face, I hear no sound, Save babblings of the spring, And my companions, who within The threads of gold and scarlet spin, And at their labor sing.

_The Angel Gabriel._ Hail, Virgin Mary, full of grace!

(_Here_ MARY _looketh around her, trembling, and then saith:_)

_Mary._ Who is it speaketh in this place,
With such a gentle voice?

_Gabriel._ The Lord of heaven is with thee now!
Blessed among all women thou,
Who art his holy choice!

_Mary_ (setting down the pitcher). What can this mean?
No one is near,
And yet, such sacred words I hear,
I almost fear to stay.

(_Here the_ ANGEL, _appearing to her, shall say:_)

_Gabriel._ Fear not, O Mary! but believe!
For thou, a Virgin, shalt conceive
A child this very day.

Fear not, O Mary! from the sky The majesty of the Most High Shall overshadow thee!

_Mary._ Behold the handmaid of the Lord!
According to thy holy word,
So be it unto me!

(_Here the Devils shall again make a great noise,
under the stage._)