Reynard
[from the Ark]
  Eh?—­Oh, indeed, Meaow!

Jacobus
’Tis clearest providence.  The rats are gone. 
The man is gone.  And there is nought to pay,
Save peaceful worship.
[Pointing to the Minster.]

Reynard
[sarcastically]
  Oh, indeed,—­Meaow!
[Sudden chorus of derisive animal noises from the Ark,
delighting people and children.]

Kurt
Silence,—­you strollers there!  Or I will have you
Gaoled, one and all.

People
  No, Kurt the Syndic, no!

Barbara
[to Jacobus]
No; no!  Ah, father, bid them stay awhile
And play it all again.—­Or, if not all,
Do let us see that same good youth again,
Who swallowed swords—­between the Ark Preserved
And the Last Judgment!

Reynard
  Michael-the-Sword-Eater,
Laurels for thee!

[The bear disappears:  Michael puts out his own head, and gazes fixedly at Barbara.

Children
Oh, can’t we see the animals in the Ark? 
Again?  Oh, can’t we see it all again?

Ilse
Oh, leave out Noah!  And let’s have only Bears
And Dromedaries, and the other ones!—­

[General confusion.]

Kurt
Silence!

Jacobus
  Good people—­you have had your shows;
And it is meet, that having held due feast,
Both with our market and this Miracle,
We bring our holiday to close with prayer
And public thanks unto Saint Willibald,—­
Upon whose day the rats departed thence.

Reynard
[loudly]
Saint Willibald!

Bear
  —­Saint Willibald!

Other animals
[looking out]
  ( Saint Willibald!
  ( Saint!  Oh!

Crowd
Saint Willibald!—­And what had he to do
With ridding us o’ rats?

Hans the Butcher
  ’T was the Piping Man
Who came and stood here in the market-place,
And swore to do it for one thousand guilders!

Peter the Cobbler
Ay, and he did it, too!—­Saint Willibald!

[Renewed uproar round the tent.]

Kurt
[to Jacobus]
Drive out those mountebanks!  ’T is ever so. 
Admit them to the town and you must pay
Their single show with riotings a week.—­
Look yonder at your daughter.

[Barbara lingers by the Ark-Tent, gazing with girlish interest at Michael, who gazes at her, his bear-head in his band for the moment.]

Jacobus
  Barbara!

[She turns back, with an angry glance at Kurt.]

Axel the Smith
[doggedly to them]
By your leave.  Masters!  I would like to know,
How did Saint Willibald prevail with the rats?—­
That would I like to know.  I, who ha’ made
Of strong wrought traps, two hundred, thirty-nine,
Two hundred, thirty-nine.