Crane. In muddy waters do I fish As well as where it clear is, And only for such cause as this The pious man too here is. Worldling. Yes! though the saints declare that sin And Blocksberg are identical, Yet here, amid this demon din, They'll set up their conventicle. Dancer. A sound of drums! a sound of men! That wafted on the wind came!-- The weary bitterns in the fen Are booming--never mind 'em! Dancing-Master. Lo! how they kick, and how they jump! How well each figure shown is! Springs the crooked, hops the plump! Each thinks him an Adonis! A Good Fellow. A sorry lot! What muffled ire Their swelling breasts inflames here! The beasts were tamed by Orpheus' lyre, And them the bagpipe tames here! Professor of Systematic Theology. I let no one bamboozle me With doubts and critic cavils; The devil sure must something be, Else whence so many devils? Idealist. Imagination travels free Without or rein or rule here; If I am all that now I see, Myself must be a fool here. Realist. That on the Brocken ghosts appear Now scarce admits disputing; Amid this hurly burly here I've fairly lost my footing. Supernaturalist. Into this swarming hellish brood I come, without intrusion; From evil spirits to the good, It is a just conclusion. Sceptic. They chase the flame that flits about, And deem them near their treasure; Best rhymes with doubt this demon-rout, And I look on with pleasure. Leader of the Orchestra. Snout of fly, and nose of gnat, Ye stupid Dilettanti! Frog and cricket, cat and bat, Keep better time, why can't ye? Clever Spirits. _Sans-souci_ is hight the crew On limber limbs that ply it; When on our feet it will not do, Then on our heads we try it. Awkward Spirits. With once or twice a lucky throw We tramped the road together; But now we flounder on, and show Our toes outside the leather! Ignes Fatui. Though born but with the sultry ray This morn, in the morass all, Yet now, amid the gallants gay, We shine here and surpass all. Falung Star. Last night I shot from starry sky And fell upon my nose here; Will no one come where flat I lie, And plant me on my toes here? Stout Spirits. Make way, make way! and brush the dew Right bravely from the lawn here; Spirits we are, but Spirits too Can show both pith and brawn here! Puck. Why tramp ye so majestical As cub of river-horse is? The plumpest spirit of you all Stout Puck himself of course is. Ariel. If loving Nature's bounteous care Hath fitted you with pinions, Then cleave with me the yielding air To rosy bright dominions. Orchestra. The mist draws off, and overhead All clear and bright the air is, And with the rustling breeze are fled The devils and the fairies! /end of the interlude./ Scene III. _A cloudy day. The Fields._