University of Virginia Library

WALPURGA'S NIGHT'S DREAM

OR OBERON AND TITANIA'S GOLDEN WEDDING.

Intermezzo.
Stage Manager.
Here we take a rest once more,
Valiant Sons of Mieding,
Dewy vale and mountain hoar
Are all the scene we are needing.

Herald.
That the wedding golden be,
Must fifty years pass over!
This Golden one best pleases me
Strife done 'twixt love and lover.

Oberon.
Trip to me, spirits, o'er the green,
Behold, this hour united,
Fairy King and Fairy Queen
Once more in love troth-plighted.

Puck.
Here comes Puck, and skips about
And foots it in the measure,
Hundreds follow him about,
With him to take their pleasure.

Ariel.
Ariel awakes the song,
Pure tones in heavenly cadence:
Many a minx it lures along,
And many pretty maidens.

Oberon.
Spouses who would well agree,
Learn from us this wonder,
If a pair would lovers be,
Keep them but asunder.

Titania.
Nags the wife and sulks the man,
Part them dexterously,
Her to the Mediterranean,
And him to the North Sea.

Orchestra Tutti
(fortissimo.)
Long-nosed gnat, and snouted fly,
With kin of all conditions.
Frog in leaves, grigs through grass that hie,
These are our blithe musicians.

Solo.
Here the bagpipe's coming, see!
Swoln like a huge soap-bubble,
Hear its cackle blown blatantly
Through its snub-nose with trouble.

Spirit
(coming into existence.)
Toad's paunch on spider's feet made crawl
With tiny wings of fairies,
Can make no kind of beast at all,
Yet a small poem there is.

Young Couple.
One short step, spring high with me,
Through dews and odourous vapour;
You can trip it well, I see,
Yet in the air can't caper.

Inquisitive Traveller.
Is this a masquer's mockery play?
Can I believe my eyes here?
The fair god Oberon to-day
I see with glad surprise here!

Orthodox.
No claws, no tail, wonders ne'er cease,
There's no mistake about it,
He's, like the ancient gods of Greece,
A devil, who can doubt it?

Artist
(from the North.)
What I can catch as yet may be
But sketchy; yet I'm daring
For my grand tour in Italy
Even now to be preparing.

Purist.
Ill fortune brings me here, alas!
What lust inflames this crowd here
A host of witches before me pass
And two wear only powder.

Young Witch.
Powder and stiff hooped petticoat
Suit grey old frumps' chaste rigour,
So I sit naked on my goat,
And show my plump firm figure.

Matrons.
We are all too well-bred by far
To bandy words with you, miss;
Yet, young and buxom as you are,
Hope you'll soon rot, 'tis true, miss.

Conductor.
Long-nosed gnat, and snouted fly,
Don't crowd around the naked,
Frog in leaves, grigs through grass that hie,
Keep time with me, deuce take it!

Weathercock
(at one side.)
Wish better company who can!
Brides, brides, with charming features,
And smart young fellows, man for man,
The hopefullest of creatures.

Weathercock
(at the other side.)
If earth soon gape not, wide and deep,
This rabble here to swallow,
I will myself, with sudden leap,
Spring into Hell's red hollow.

Xenia.
Like small insects we are here,
With wee sharp shears; but truly
The worth of our Papa, so dear,
Satan would honour duly.

Hennings.
See them throng in serried host,
Sly with each other playing!
But at the end they blandly boast:
We have kind hearts they're saying.

Musagetes.
Among this motley witches' crew,
I roam with genuine pleasure,
I'm apter in their games, 'tis true,
Than in the Muses' measure.

Ci-Devant Genius of the Age.
With the right people some chance one has,
Come, grip my skirt securely,
The Blocksberg, like our German Parnass,
Has a broad summit surely.

Inquisitive Traveller.
Pray who is that stiff gentleman,
With haughty steps there walking?
He sniffs wherever sniff he can,
“Jesuits he must be stalking.”

Crane.
I fish clear waters happily,
In muddy pools I revel;
Just as the pious man we see
Rub shoulders with the Devil.

World-Child.
Yes, trust me, for the saintly Seer,
All's but a vehicle;
They build upon the Blocksberg here
Their Bethels hard by Hell.

Dancer.
Does a new choir speed here anon?
I hear a distant drumming.
Don't be disturbed! In unison
Bitterns in the reeds are brumming.

Dancing Master.
How everyone his feet outflings,
And as he can gets through it!
The awkward hops, the cripple springs,
None cares how others view it.

Fiddler.
They hate each other, the stupid rout,
Would join in deadly battle;
The pipes make peace, lead them about,
As Orpheus' lyre all cattle.

Dogmatist.
To decry error is not for me,
Doubt, criticise or cavil;
Something the Devil must surely be;
Or how were there a Devil?

Idealist.
In my own senses phantasy
Is this time too imperious;
If I be all things, verily
To-day I'm quite delirious.

Realist.
Existence plagues me, heart and mind,
Still by vexations haunted;
And, for the first time now I find
My feet not firmly planted.

Supernaturalist.
With how much pleasure here mid this crew
I enjoy myself demurely;
Convinced there are good spirits too,
Since there are Devils surely.

Sceptic.
Hoping to find the treasure, they
Follow their wisplight's revel;
I stand on the right spot midway,
Doubt all, so doubt the Devil.

Conductor.
Frog in leaves, grigs through grass that hie,
Accursed Dilettanti!
Long-nosed gnat, and snouted fly
Ye are fine players, I grant ye!

Nimble-Ones.
“Sans Souci,” our merry crew
They call, for ne'er we grumble;
More on our feet we cannot do,
So head o'er heels we tumble.

Slow-Coaches.
We have spunged for many a morsel sweet
But now, may God preserve us!
We tramp the road on naked feet,
Our shoes danced off in service.

Will-o'-the-Wisps.
Bred in the marshes, dank and drear,
We come to show our talents;
Now in bright ranks we muster here,
Most splendid of court-gallants.

Shooting-Star.
From heaven, with starry, fiery light,
I shot; my wreck's complete now,
Prone in the grass I end my flight;
Who sets me on my feet now?

Hulking Fellows.
Place there! place! Tramp out a ring
On the green sward; for spirits
Come; but stout limbs with them bring,
Wherewith to show their merits.

Puck.
Don't hulk about in this rough play,
Like elephant-calves a-frolic,
Or Puck may prove himself to-day
The stoutest in the rollick.

Ariel.
If loving Nature to spirits still
Gives wings, as myth supposes,
Fly on my track, if ye have skill
Up to the Hill of Roses!

Orchestra
(pianissimo.)
Gauzelike mist, and clouds that speed
Shine in dawn's light elysian.
Breeze in leaves, and wind in reed,
And vanished is the vision.