Theatre Manager.
             Now for once we'll rest today,
             Valiant sons of Miedling.
             Misty vale and mountain grey
             Are all the scene we're needing!
             Golden wedding cannot be
             Till fifty years have vanished;
             And yet golden is't to me
             When the strife is banished.
             Are ye spirits to be seen,
             Come forth and show it duly!
             Fairy king and fairy queen,
             They are united newly.
             Now comes Puck and whirls about
             And slides his foot a-dancing;
             After come a hundred out,
             Themselves and him entrancing.
             Ariel awakes the song
             With pure and heavenly measure;
             Many frights he lures along,
             And fair ones too, with pleasure.
             Spouses who would live in peace,
             Learn from our example!
             When a pair would love increase,
             To separate them's ample.
             Sulks the husband, carps the wife,
             Just seize them quickly, harry
             Her away far to the south
             And him to far north carry.
  Orchestra Tutti [fortissimo].
             Snout of fly, mosquito-bill,
             With kin of all conditions,
             Frog in leaves and crickets shrill,
             These are the musicians!
             See, here comes the bagpipe's sack!
             Soapbubble-like, it's blowing.
             Hear the snecke-snicke-snack
             Through its snub nose flowing!
  A Spirit that is just taking form.
             Spider's foot and paunch of toad
             And wings the wight doth grow him!
             True, a beastie 'twill not be
             But yet a little poem.
  A Little Couple.
             Short step here and high leap there
             Through honey-dew and sweetness;
             Yet you'll soar not through the air,
             With all your tripping fleetness.
  Inquisitive Traveller.
             Is that not mummers' mocking play?
             Shall I trust to my vision?
             Fair god Oberon today
             Is here on exhibition?
             Claws or tail I do not see
             And yet, beyond a cavil,
             Just like "The Gods of Greece" is he
             Likewise a very devil.
  Northern Artist.
             What I may grasp today may be
             But sketches of this tourney,
             Yet I'm betimes preparing me
             For my Italian journey.
             Woe! bad luck has led me here.
             How decency they're mocking!
             Of all the witches' host, dear! dear!
             But two are powdered! Shocking!
  Young Witch.
             Powder is like a petticoat,
             For grey hags hoddy-doddy;
             So I sit naked on my goat
             And show a strapping body.
             We are too well-behaved by far,
             With you to snarl a lot here;
             Yet, young and tender as you are,
             I hope that you will rot here.
  Leader of the Orchestra.
             Snout of fly, mosquito-bill,
             Don't swarm around the naked!
             Frog in leaves and cricket shrill,
             Do mark the time and take it!
  Weather-Vane [turning in one direction].
             The comp'ny's all one can wish for,
             Each one a bride, I swear it!
             And man by man a bachelor,
             Most prom'sing, I declare it!
  Weather-Vane [turning in the other direction].
             And will the ground not open out
             To swallow all who're dancing,
             Then I will swiftly leave this rout
             And straight to Hell go prancing.
             See us here as insects! Ha!
             Each one with sharp shears on her,
             That Lord Satan, our papa,
             We fittingly may honour.
             Just see them all, a crowding throng,
             Naively jesting, playing!
             That they had kind hearts all along,
             They'll in the end be saying.
  "Leader of the Muses."
             Amid this witches' host, indeed,
             One's way one gladly loses;
             For, sure, I could these sooner lead
             Than I can lead the Muses.
  The Quondam "Spirit of the Times."
             With proper folk one can all do.
             Come, cling close, none can pass us!
             The Blocksberg has a broad top too,
             Like Germany's Parnassus.
  Inquisitive Traveller.
             What's the name of that stiff man?
             He goes with haughty paces;
             He snuffles all he snuffle can.
             "He scents the Jesuits' traces."
             If water clear or muddy be,
             I fish with pleasure, really;
             That's why this pious man you see
             With devils mixing freely.
             By pious people, I speak true,
             No vehicle's rejected;
             Conventicles, more than a few,
             On Blocksberg are erected.
             Another chorus now succeeds!
             I hear a distant drumming.
             "Don't be disturbed! It's, in the reeds,
             The herons' changeless booming."
  Dancing Master.
             How each his legs kicks up and flings!
             Somehow gets on, however!
             The clumsy hops, the crooked springs,
             And how it looks, ask never!
             They hate each other well, that crew,
             And they would like to rend them.
             As Orpheus' lyre the beasts all drew,
             The bagpipe here will blend them.
             I'll not let screams lead me to war
             With doubts and critics-cavils.
             The Devil must be something, or
             Else how could there be devils?
             For once, as I see phantasy,
             It is far too despotic.
             In truth, if I be all I see,
             Today I'm idiotic.
             This riot makes my torture sheer
             And greatly irks me surely;
             For the first time I'm standing here
             On my feet insecurely.
             With much delight I join this crew
             And share with them their revels;
             For that there are good spirits too
             I argue from these devils.
             They go to track the flamelets out
             And think they're near the treasure.
             Devil alliterates with Doubt,
             So I am here with pleasure.
  Leader of the Orchestra.
             Frog in leaves and cricket shrill,
             Cursed dilettants! Perdition!
             Fly-snout and mosquito-bill,
             You're each a fine musician!
  The Adroit.
             Sans-souci, we call us so,
             Gay creatures free from worry;
             We afoot no more can go,
             So on our heads we hurry.
  The Ne'er-Do-Wells.
             We once sponged many a bite, 'tis true,
             God help us! That is done now!
             We've danced our shoes entirely through,
             On naked soles we run now.
             From the marshes we come out,
             Where we arose from litter;
             Yet here in dancing roundabout
             We're gallants all a-glitter.
  A Falling Star.
             From the heights above plunged I,
             With star- and fire-light o'er me;
             Crooked now in grass I lie,
             Who'll to my feet restore me?
  The Heavy Ones.
             Room! more room! All round us too!
             Thus downward go the grasses.
             Spirits come and they, it's true,
             Are clumsy, heavy masses.
             Bloated, enter not the fray,
             Like elephant-calves about one!
             And the clumsiest today
             Be Puck himself, the stout one!
             If kind Nature gave you wings,
             If them Mind uncloses,
             Follow my light wanderings
             To yon hill of roses!
  Orchestra [pianissimo].
             Cloud and mist drift off with speed,
             Aloft 'tis brighter growing.
             Breeze in leaves and wind in reed,
             And all away is blowing.