The well? The well's still there, beneath your feet.
I had to have it bricked in, soon after you
Gave up the house to me, and left. 'Twas sweet,
The water, still — nay, there was nothing wrong
With that ... 'Twas just the water that you knew
Running like liquid ice down a dry throat ...
But you know, you whose well it was so long!

So ... Then how came you to seal up the well?

It's just a little difficult to tell ...
When I looked down the shaft, a face would float
Up from the dark.
You mean your image?
Nay!
A face beside my face, with snow-white hair.

You mean that someone ...
There was no one there —
Only myself ... and nobody in the well.
No ... body!
Nay! Why do you turn so white!
We had it all cleaned out. The workman found
Nothing ... I must have fancied it, that face:
But 'twas uncanny; and I had the place
Built over, arched with brick, made safe and sound.

You say that they found nothing?
Not a trace
Of anything that could account ... But you,
Why do you tremble, woman? Are you sick?

Nay, it is naught ... But, oh! his eyes ... his eyes,
That always were the first to greet the light,
Peering for ever up into black night!
And then his cries, after he fell — no brick
Could stifle ... Can't you hear how he still cries!