Witch. I’ll brew thee no charm, thou Ogre dread! 
Knowest thou not full well
The Princess thou hast stolen away
Is guarded by Fairy spell? 
Her godmother over her cradle bent
“O Princess Winsome,” she said,
“I give thee this gift:  thou shalt deftly spin,
As thou wishest, Love’s golden thread.” 
So I dare not brew thee a spell ’gainst her
My caldron would grow acold
And never again would bubble up,
If touched by her thread of gold.

Ogre. Then give me a charm to bind the prince. 
Thou canst do that much at least. 
I’ll give thee more gold than hands can hold,
If thou’lt change him into some beast.

  Witch. I have need of gold—­so on the fire
I’ll pile my fagots higher and higher,
And in the bubbling water stir
This hank of hair, this patch of fur,
This feather and this flapping fin,
This claw, this bone, this dried snake skin! 
    Bubble and boil
    And snake skin coil,
    This charm shall all plans
    But the Ogre’s foil.

  [As Witch stirs and sings, the Ogre, stalking to the side, calls.

Ogre. Ho, Frog-eye Fearsome, let the sport begin!  Hence to the tower!  Drag the captives in!

  [Frog-eye Fearsome drags Prince Hero and Princess Winsome
    across the stage, and into the door leading up the tower
    stair.  They are bound by ropes.  Prince tries to reach his
    sword.  Princess shrieks.

Princess. Oh, save us, good, wise witch,
In pity, save us, pray. 
The King, our royal father,
Thy goodness will repay. [Pulls back, wringing hand.
Oh, I cannot, cannot mount the tower! 
Oh, save us from the bloody Ogre’s power!

  [They are dragged into the tower, door bangs and Ogre locks it with
    key a yard long.  Goes back to Witch, who hands him vial
    filled from caldron with black mixture.

Witch. Pour drop by drop upon Prince Hero’s tongue. 
First he will bark.  His hands and feet
Will turn to paws, and he will seem a dog. 
Seven drops will make the change complete. 
The poison has no antidote save one,
And he a prince again can never be,
Unless seven silver plums he eats,
Plucked from my golden apple-tree.

Ogre. Revenge is sweet,
And soon ’twill be complete! 
Then to my den I’ll haste for gold to delve. 
I’ll bring it at the black, bleak hour of twelve!

Witch. And I upon my broomstick now must fly
To woodland tryst.  Come, Horned Owl
And Venomed Toad!  Now play the spy! 
Let no one through my orchard prowl.

  [Exit Witch and Ogre to dirge music.

SCENE II. Enter King and Queen weeping.  They pace up and down, wringing hands, and showing great signs of grief.  Godmother enters from opposite side.  King speaks.