(Solo)

  Yonder doth the bagpipe come! 
   Its sack an airy bubble. 
  Schnick, schnick, schnack, with nasal hum,
   Its notes it doth redouble.

  EMBRYO SPIRIT

  Spider’s foot and midge’s wing,
   A toad in form and feature;
  Together verses it can string,
   Though scarce a living creature.

  A LITTLE PAIR

  Tiny step and lofty bound,
   Through dew and exhalation;
  Ye trip it deftly on the ground,
   But gain no elevation.

  INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER

  Can I indeed believe my eyes? 
   Is’t not mere masquerading? 
  What!  Oberon in beauteous guise,
   Among the groups parading!

  ORTHODOX

  No claws, no tail to whisk about,
   To fright us at our revel;
  Yet like the gods of Greece, no doubt,
   He too’s a genuine devil.

  NORTHERN ARTIST

  These that I’m hitting off today
   Are sketches unpretending;
  Toward Italy without delay,
   My steps I think of bending.

  PURIST

  Alas! ill-fortune leads me here,
   Where riot still grows louder;
  And ’mong the witches gather’d here,
   But two alone wear powder!

  YOUNG WITCH

  Your powder and your petticoat,
   Suit hags, there’s no gainsaying;
  Hence I sit fearless on my goat,
   My naked charms displaying.

  MATRON

  We’re too well-bred to squabble here,
   Or insult back to render;
  But may you wither soon, my dear,
   Although so young and tender.

  LEADER OF THE BAND

  Nose of fly and gnat’s proboscis,
   Throng not the naked beauty! 
  Frogs and crickets in the mosses,
   Keep time and do your duty!

  WEATHERCOCK (toward one side)

  What charming company I view
   Together here collected! 
  Gay bachelors, a hopeful crew,
   And brides so unaffected!

  WEATHERCOCK (toward the other side)

  Unless indeed the yawning ground
   Should open to receive them,
  From this vile crew, with sudden bound,
   To Hell I’d jump and leave them.

  XENIEN

  With small sharp shears, in insect guise,
   Behold us at your revel! 
  That we may tender, filial-wise,
   Our homage to the devil.

  HENNINGS

  Look now at yonder eager crew,
   How naively they’re jesting! 
  That they have tender hearts and true,
   They stoutly keep protesting!

  MUSAGET

  Oneself amid this witchery
   How pleasantly one loses;
  For witches easier are to me
   To govern than the Muses!

  CI-DEVANT GENIUS OF THE AGE

  With proper folks when we appear,
   No one can then surpass us! 
  Keep close, wide is the Blocksberg here
   As Germany’s Parnassus.