Intermezzo.

Walpurgis-Night’s Dream; or Oberon and Titania’s Golden Hightide.

Director of the Theatre. We players here may take our ease; For all we need for scenery Is mount and mead, and trees, and seas Of Nature’s leafy greenery.

Herald. The golden high-tide is it then, When fifty years pass over; But doubly golden is it when All brawls and strifes they cover.

Oberon. Ye spirits, who obey my law, Are to this feast invited, When Oberon and Titania In love are reunited.

Puck. Puck comes in first, and turns athwart, His merry circles wheeling; And hundreds more behind him dart, Loud shouts of laughter pealing.

Ariel. I fill the air with thrilling song Of virtue quite enchanting; Though ugly imps I lure along, The fair are never wanting!

Oberon. When man and wife begin to strive, Just give them length of tether! They will learn in peace to live, When not too much together.

Titania. When pouts the wife, and frets the man, This cure is best in Nature, Him to the Arctic circle ban, And her to the Equator.

Orchestra. [Tutti. Fortissimo] Snout of fly, and nose of gnat, Lead on the band before us! Frog and cricket, cat and bat, Join merry in the chorus!

Solo. A soap-bell for a doodle-sack, The merry waters troubling! Hear the snecke-snicke-snack, From its snub-nose bubbling!

Embryo-Spirit. Legs of spider, paunch of toad, And wings, if you would know it; Nor fish, nor fowl, but on the road Perhaps to be a poet!

A Pair of Dancers. With many a nimble pace and spring, Through honey-dew and vapour, Trips o’er the ground the little thing, But higher cannot caper.

Inquisitive Traveller. Do I see a real thing, Or is it all delusion? Oberon, the fairy king, Amid this wild confusion.

Orthodox. Though neither tail nor claws are his, ’Tis true beyond all cavil, As devils were the gods of Greece, He too must be a devil.

Northern Artist. ’Tis but a sketch, I must admit; But what I can’t unravel To-night, I’ll know, with larger wit, From my Italian travel.

Purist. Alas! that I should see it too! Here we a riot rare have! Of all the crew, there are but two That powder on their hair have.

Young Witch. Powder and petticoat for grey And wrinkled hags are fitting; But I my lusty limbs display, Upon a he-goat sitting.

Matron. To speak with such a shameless pack We have nor will nor leisure; Soon may your flesh rot on your back, And we look on with pleasure!

Leader of the Orchestra. Snout of fly, and nose of gnat, Sting not the naked beauty! Frog and cricket, cat and bat, Attend ye to your duty!

Weathercock. [to the one side] A goodly company! as sure As I stand on the steeple; With brides and bridegrooms swarms the moor, The hopefulest of people!

Weathercock. [to the other side] And opes not suddenly the ground, To swallow one and all up, Then, with a jerk, I’ll veer me round, And straight to hell I’ll gallop.

Xenien. We insects keep them all in awe, With sharpest scissors shear we! Old Nick, our worthy Squire Papa, Here to salute appear we.

Hennings. See! how in merry circles they Sit gossiping together; The graceless crew have hearts, they say, As good as any other.

Musagetes. This witch and wizard crew to lead, My willing fancy chooses; More hopeful field is here indeed, Than when I lead the Muses.

Ci-devant Genius of the Age. The Brocken has a good broad back, Like the High-Dutch Parnassus; The Jury here no man can pack, Or with proud silence pass us.

Inquisitive Traveller. Say, who is he so stiff that goes, That stately-stalking stranger? He snuffs for Jesuits with sharp nose, And cries—the Church in danger!

Crane. In muddy waters do I fish As well as where it clear is, And only for such cause as this The pious man too here is.

Worldling. Yes! though the saints declare that sin And Blocksberg are identical, Yet here, amid this demon din, They’ll set up their conventicle.

Dancer. A sound of drums! a sound of men! That wafted on the wind came!— The weary bitterns in the fen Are booming—never mind ’em!

Dancing-Master. Lo! how they kick, and how they jump! How well each figure shown is! Springs the crooked, hops the plump! Each thinks him an Adonis!

A Good Fellow. A sorry lot! What muffled ire Their swelling breasts inflames here! The beasts were tamed by Orpheus’ lyre, And them the bagpipe tames here!

Professor of Systematic Theology. I let no one bamboozle me With doubts and critic cavils; The devil sure must something be, Else whence so many devils?

Idealist. Imagination travels free Without or rein or rule here; If I am all that now I see, Myself must be a fool here.

Realist. That on the Brocken ghosts appear Now scarce admits disputing; Amid this hurly burly here I’ve fairly lost my footing.

Supernaturalist. Into this swarming hellish brood I come, without intrusion; From evil spirits to the good, It is a just conclusion.

Sceptic. They chase the flame that flits about, And deem them near their treasure; Best rhymes with doubt this demon-rout, And I look on with pleasure.

Leader of the Orchestra. Snout of fly, and nose of gnat, Ye stupid Dilettanti! Frog and cricket, cat and bat, Keep better time, why can’t ye?

Clever Spirits. Sans-souci is hight the crew On limber limbs that ply it; When on our feet it will not do, Then on our heads we try it.

Awkward Spirits. With once or twice a lucky throw We tramped the road together; But now we flounder on, and show Our toes outside the leather!

Ignes Fatui. Though born but with the sultry ray This morn, in the morass all, Yet now, amid the gallants gay, We shine here and surpass all.

Falung Star. Last night I shot from starry sky And fell upon my nose here; Will no one come where flat I lie, And plant me on my toes here?

Stout Spirits. Make way, make way! and brush the dew Right bravely from the lawn here; Spirits we are, but Spirits too Can show both pith and brawn here!

Puck. Why tramp ye so majestical As cub of river-horse is? The plumpest spirit of you all Stout Puck himself of course is.

Ariel. If loving Nature’s bounteous care Hath fitted you with pinions, Then cleave with me the yielding air To rosy bright dominions.

Orchestra. The mist draws off, and overhead All clear and bright the air is, And with the rustling breeze are fled The devils and the fairies!