Like housed-up snails we're
creeping
on,
The women all ahead are gone.
The women all ahead are gone.
Faust, a Tragedy by Goethe
Which way didst thou come?
_Voice_. By the Ilsenstein!
Peeped into an owl's nest, mother of mine!
What a pair of eyes!
_Voice_. To hell with your flurry!
Why ride in such hurry!
_Voice_. The hag be confounded!
My skin flie has wounded!
_Witches_ [_chorus]. _ The way is broad, the way is long,
What means this noisy, crazy throng?
The broom it scratches, the fork it flicks,
The child is stifled, the mother breaks.
_Wizards_ [_semi-chorus_].
Like housed-up snails we're creeping on,
The women all ahead are gone.
When to the Bad One's house we go,
She gains a thousand steps, you know.
_The other half_. We take it not precisely so;
What she in thousand steps can go,
Make all the haste she ever can,
'Tis done in just one leap by man.
_Voice_ [_above_]. Come on, come on, from Felsensee!
_Voices_ [_from below_]. We'd gladly join your airy way.
For wash and clean us as much as we will,
We always prove unfruitful still.
_Both chorusses_. The wind is hushed, the star shoots by,
The moon she hides her sickly eye.
The whirling, whizzing magic-choir
Darts forth ten thousand sparks of fire.
_Voice_ [_from below_]. Ho, there! whoa, there!
_Voice_ [_from above_].
_Voice_. By the Ilsenstein!
Peeped into an owl's nest, mother of mine!
What a pair of eyes!
_Voice_. To hell with your flurry!
Why ride in such hurry!
_Voice_. The hag be confounded!
My skin flie has wounded!
_Witches_ [_chorus]. _ The way is broad, the way is long,
What means this noisy, crazy throng?
The broom it scratches, the fork it flicks,
The child is stifled, the mother breaks.
_Wizards_ [_semi-chorus_].
Like housed-up snails we're creeping on,
The women all ahead are gone.
When to the Bad One's house we go,
She gains a thousand steps, you know.
_The other half_. We take it not precisely so;
What she in thousand steps can go,
Make all the haste she ever can,
'Tis done in just one leap by man.
_Voice_ [_above_]. Come on, come on, from Felsensee!
_Voices_ [_from below_]. We'd gladly join your airy way.
For wash and clean us as much as we will,
We always prove unfruitful still.
_Both chorusses_. The wind is hushed, the star shoots by,
The moon she hides her sickly eye.
The whirling, whizzing magic-choir
Darts forth ten thousand sparks of fire.
_Voice_ [_from below_]. Ho, there! whoa, there!
_Voice_ [_from above_].
