This composer of charming music will furnish better biographical material fifty years hence. At present we must be satisfied to listen to his compositions, and leave the study of the man to future generations.

HAENSEL AND GRETEL

CHARACTERS OF THE OPERA

Peter, a broom-maker.
Gertrude, his wife.
Haensel
Gretel
Witch, who eats little children.
Sandman, who puts little children to sleep.
Dewman, who wakes little children up.
Children.
Fourteen angels.

The story takes place in a German forest.

Composer: E. Humperdinck.
Author: Adelheid Wette.

ACT I

Once upon a time, in a far-off forest of Germany, there lived two little children, Haensel and Gretel, with their father and mother. The father and mother made brooms for a living, and the children helped them by doing the finishing of the brooms.

The broom business had been very, very bad for a long time, and the poor father and mother were nearly discouraged. The father, however, was a happy-go-lucky man who usually accepted his misfortunes easily. It was fair-time in a village near the broom-makers’ hut, and one morning the parents started off to see if their luck wouldn’t change. They left the children at home, charging them to be industrious and orderly in behaviour till they returned, and Haensel in particular was to spend his time finishing off some brooms.

Now it is the hardest thing in the world for little children to stick to a long task, so that which might have been expected happened: Haensel and Gretel ceased after a little to work, and began to think how hungry they were. Haensel was seated in the doorway, working at the brooms; brooms were hanging up on the walls of the poor little cottage; and Gretel sat knitting a stocking near the fire. Being a gay little girl, she sang to pass the time:

This sounded rather gay, and, before he knew it, Haensel had joined in:

Eia popeia, pray what’s to be done?
Who’ll give me milk and sugar, for bread I have none?
I’ll go back to bed and I’ll lie there all day,
Where there’s naught to eat, then there’s nothing to pay.

“Speaking of something to eat I’m as hungry as a wolf, Gretel. We haven’t had anything but bread in weeks.”

“Well, it does no good to complain, does it? Why don’t you do as father does laugh and make the best of it?” Gretel answered, letting her knitting fall in her lap. “If you will stop grumbling, Haensel, I’ll tell you a secret it’s a fine one too.” She got up and tiptoed over to the table. “Come here and look in this jug,” she called, and Haensel in his turn tiptoed over, as if something very serious indeed would happen should any one hear him.

“Look in that jug a neighbour gave us some milk to-day, and that is likely to mean rice blanc-mange.”

“Oh, gracious goodness! I’ll be found near when rice blanc-mange is going on; be sure of that. How thick is the cream?” the greedy fellow asked, dipping his finger into the jug.

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself! Take your fingers out of that jug, Haensel, and get back to your work. You’ll get a good pounding if mother comes home and finds you cutting up tricks.”

“No, I’m not going to work any more I’m going to dance.”

“Well, I admit dancing is good fun,” Gretel answered him reluctantly. “We can dance a little, and sing to keep us in time, and then we can go back to work.”

Brother, come and dance with me,
Both my hands I offer thee,
Right foot first,
Left foot then,
Round about and back again,

she sang, holding out her hands.

“I don’t know how, or I would,” Haensel declared, watching her as she spun about.

“Then I’ll teach you. Just keep your eyes on me and I’ll teach you just how to do it,” she cried, and then she began to dance. Gretel told him precisely how to do it, and Haensel learned very well and very quickly. Then they danced together, and in half a minute had forgotten all about going back to their work. They twirled and laughed and sang and shouted in the wildest sort of glee, and at last, perfectly exhausted with so much fun, they tumbled over one another upon the floor, and were laughing too hard to get up. Just at this moment, when they had actually forgotten all about hunger and work, home came their mother. She opened the door and looked in.

“For mercy’s sake! what goings on are these?” she cried.

“Why, it was Haensel, he ”

“Gretel wanted to ” they both began, scrambling to their feet.

“That will do. I want to hear nothing from you. You are the most ill-behaved children in the world. Here are your father and I slaving ourselves to death for you, and not a thing do you do but dance and sing from morning till night ”

“It would be awfully nice to eat, too,” Haensel replied reflectively.

“What’s that you say, you ungrateful child? Don’t you eat whenever the rest of us do?” However harsh she seemed, the mother was only angry at the thought of there being nothing in the house to eat, and she felt so badly to think the children were hungry that she made a dive at Haensel to slap him, when horrors! she knocked the milk off the table, broke the jug, and all the milk went streaming over the floor. This was indeed a misfortune. There they stood, all three looking at their lost supper.

“Now see what you have done?” she screamed angrily at the children. “Get yourselves out of here. If you want any supper you’ll have to work for it. Take that basket and go into the wood and fill it with strawberries, and don’t either of you come home till it is full. Dear me, it does seem as if I had trouble enough without such actions as yours,” the distracted mother cried; and quite unjustly she hustled the children and their basket outside the hut and off into the wood.

They had no sooner gone out than the poor, distracted woman, exhausted with the day’s tramping and unsuccessful effort to sell her brooms, sat at the table weeping over the lost milk; and finally she fell asleep. After a while a merry song was heard in the wood, and the father presently appeared singing, at the very threshold. Really, for a hungry man with a hungry family and nothing for supper, he was in a remarkably merry mood.

“Ho, there, wife!” he called, and then entered with a great basket over his shoulder. He saw the mother asleep and stopped singing. Then he laughed and went over to her.

“Hey, wake up, old lady, hustle yourself and get us a supper. Where are the children?”

“What are you talking about,” the mother asked, waking up and looking confused at the noise her husband was making. “I can’t get any supper when there is nothing to get.”

“Nothing to get? well, that is nice talk, I’m sure. We’ll see if there is nothing to get,” he answered, roaring with laughter and he began to take things out of his basket. First he took out a ham, then some butter. Flour and sausages followed, and then a dozen eggs; turnips, and onions, and finally some tea. Then at last the good fellow turned the basket upside down, and out rolled a lot of potatoes.

“Where in the world did all of these things come from?” she cried.

“I had good luck with my brooms, when all seemed lost, and here we are with a feast before us. Now call the children and let us begin.”

“I was so angry because the milk got spilt that I sent them off to the woods for berries and told them not to come home till they had a basket full. I really thought that was all we should have for supper.” At this the father looked frightened.

“What if they have gone to the Ilsenstein?” he cried, jumping up and taking a broom from the wall.

“Well, what harm?” the wife inquired, “and why do you take the broom?”

“What harm? Do you not know that it is the awful magic mountain where the old witch who eats little children dwells? and do you not know that she rides on a broomstick. I may need one to follow her, in case she has got the children.”

“Oh, heavens above! What a wicked woman I was to send the children out. What shall we do? Do you know anything more about that awful ogress?” she demanded of her husband, trembling fit to die.

An old witch within that wood doth dwell,
And she’s in league with the powers of hell.
At midnight hour,
When nobody knows,
Away to the witches’ dance she goes.

Up the chimney they fly,
On a broomstick they hie,
Over hill and dale,
O’er ravine and vale,
Through the midnight air
They gallop full tear,
On a broomstick, on a broomstick
Hop, hop, hop, hop, the witches!

And by day, they say,
She stalks around,
With a crinching, crunching, munching sound.
And children plump, and tender to eat,
She lures with magic gingerbread sweet.
On evil bent,
With fell intent,
She lures the children, poor little things,
In the oven hot,
She pops the lot.
She shuts the door down,
Until they’re done brown all those gingerbread children.

“Oh, my soul!” the poor woman shrieked. “Come! We must lose no time: Haensel and Gretel may be baked to cinders by this time,” and out she ran, screaming, and followed by the father, to look for those poor children.

ACT II

After wandering all the afternoon in the great forest, and filling their basket with strawberries, Haensel and Gretel came to a beautiful mossy tree-trunk where they concluded to sit down and rest before going home. They had wandered so far that they really didn’t know that they were lost, but as a matter of fact they had no notion of where they were. Without knowing it, they had gone as far as the Ilsenstein, and that magic place was just behind them, and sunset had already come. As usual, the gay little girl was singing while she twined a garland of wild flowers. Haensel was still looking for berries in the thicket near. Pretty soon they heard a cuckoo call, and they answered the call gaily. The cuckoo answered, and the calls between them became lively.

“There is the bird that eats up other birds’ eggs,” Gretel said, poking a strawberry into Haensel’s mouth; and Haensel sucked the berry up as if it were an egg. Then in his turn, he poked a berry into Gretel’s mouth. This was very good fun, especially as yet they had had nothing to eat. They began to feed each other with berries, till before they knew it the full basket was empty.

Foolish children, who by their carelessness got themselves into all sorts of scrapes! Now what was to be done? They surely couldn’t go home and tell their mother they had eaten up all the berries!

“Haensel, you have eaten all the berries. Now this time it is no joke this that you have done. What shall we do now?”

“Nonsense you ate as many as I. We shall simply look for more.”

“So late as this! We never can see them in the world. The sun is going down. Where can we have got to? We are surely lost.”

“Well, if we are, there is nothing to be afraid of. Come, don’t cry. We shall sleep here under the trees, and, when morning comes, find our way home,” Haensel replied, no longer blaming her, but trying to be very brave, notwithstanding he was nearly scared to death with the shadows which were then gathering quickly.

“Oh, oh! do you hear that noise in the bushes? I shall die of fright.”

“It it is nothing, sister,” Haensel answered, his teeth chattering, while he peered all about him uneasily. “I’m a boy and not afraid of anything, and can take care of you wherever we are.”

What’s glimmering there in the darkness?
That’s only the birches in silver dress.
But there, what’s grinning so there at me?
Th-that’s only the stump of a willow tree.

Haensel tried to answer heroically. “I’ll give a good call,” he said, going a little way toward the Ilsenstein. Then putting his hands to his mouth, he called loudly:

“Who’s there?”

“You there, you there, you there,” the echoes came but they seemed to come from the Ilsenstein.

“Is some one there?” Gretel timidly asked.

“There where there ” the echoes from the Ilsenstein again replied. “I’m frightened to death,” Gretel said, beginning to cry.

“Little Gretelkin,” said Haensel, “you stick close to me, and I’ll let nothing hurt you;” and while they huddled together, a thick white mist slowly gathered and spread between the children and the Ilsenstein.

“Oh! there are some shadowy old women, coming to carry me away,” Gretel sobbed, hiding her face, as the mist seemed to sway and assume strange forms. Then while her face was hidden, the mist slowly cleared away, and a little gray manikin with a little sack upon his back came out of the shadows. Haensel held his breath with fear and sheltered Gretel beside him as best he could.

“It is a shadowy queer little manikin, Gretel dear, with a little sack upon his back, but he looks very friendly.” Then addressing the little manikin, “Do not hurt us, sir and will you tell us who you are?”

I shut the children’s peepers sh!
And guard the little sleepers sh!
For dearly I do love them sh!
And gladly watch above them sh!
And with my little bag of sand,
By every child’s bedside I stand;
Then little tired eyelids close,
And little limbs have sweet repose;
And if they are good and quickly go to sleep,
Then from the starry sphere above
The angels come with peace and love,
And send the children happy dreams, while watch they keep.

All the while the little sand-man was telling them who he was, the children got sleepier and sleepier and nodded upon each other’s shoulders.

“The sand-man was here?” little Haensel asked, trying to rouse a bit.

“I guess so,” said Gretel; “let us say our prayers,” and so they folded their hands, and said a little prayer to the fourteen angels which guard little children. They prayed to the two angels who should stand at their head, to the two at their feet, two upon their right hand and two upon the left, and two should cover them warm, and two should guard them from harm, and two should guide them one day to Heaven; and so they sank to sleep.

As they slept, a beautiful light broke through the mist, which rolled up into a glittering staircase down which those angels came, two and two. They all grouped about Haensel and Gretel as they had been prayed to do; and as they silently took their places the night grew dark, the trees and birds all slept, and Haensel and Gretel were safe until the morning.

ACT III

The night had passed, the angels had disappeared again in the mist which still hung over the forest at the back, and now as dawn broke, the dew-fairy came out of the mist as the manikin and the angels had done; and from a little blue bell she shook the dewdrops over the children’s eyes. Just as they began to stir, away ran the dew-fairy, and when they were quite wide awake they found the sun rising and themselves all alone.

“Haensel, where are we?” little Gretel asked, not recalling all that had happened to them since the day before. “I hear the birds twittering high in the branches. We certainly are not in our beds at home.”

“No but I had a fine dream,” Haensel answered “that the angels were here looking after us all night, the entire fourteen. But look there!” he cried, pointing behind them. The mist was gradually lifting and revealing the house of the Witch of Ilsenstein. It looked very fine, with the sun’s bright rays upon it; very fine indeed! A little way off to the left of that queer little house was an oven. Oh, dreadful! It was well Haensel and Gretel did not know in the least what that oven meant. Then, on the other side of the house, was a cage and heaven! it was certainly well that they had no idea of what that was for, either. Then, joining that cage to the house, was a queer-looking fence of gingerbread, and it looked strangely like little children.

“Oh, what a queer place!” Gretel cried. “And do you smell that delicious odour? That cottage is made all of chocolate cream!” She was overcome with joy.

The roof is all covered with Turkish delight,
The windows with lustre of sugar are white
And on all the gables the raisins invite,
And think! All around is a gingerbread hedge.

“Oh, to eat such a cottage!” they cried ecstatically.

“I hear no sound. Let’s go inside,” Haensel urged.

“No, no! Who knows who may live in that lovely house.”

“Well, anyway, it can’t do any harm to nibble a little. They can have it repaired next baking day,” he persisted.

“Maybe that is true, and it does look too good to leave”; so Haensel reached out and broke a little piece of the house-corner off.

Nibble, nibble, mousekin,
Who’s nibbling at my housekin?

a voice called from within.

“Good gracious! Did you hear that?” he whispered, dropping the corner of the house. Gretel picked it up, hesitatingly.

“It’s most awfully good,” she declared, but at that very minute came the voice again:

Nibble, nibble, mousekin,
Who’s nibbling at my housekin?

“Maybe that is the voice of the sweety maker,” Haensel suggested, all the same a good deal scared. And so they went on nibbling at a bit of the fence and then at the house-corner, until they became so full of good things that they began to laugh and caper about in high spirits. But while all this fun was going on, the upper part of the door opened and the old witch stuck her head out. Then slowly and softly, out she crept with a rope in her hand, and getting behind the children she suddenly threw it over Haensel’s head. When he turned and saw her he was frightened almost into fits.

“Let me go, let me go!” he howled, while the witch only laughed hideously at the two and, drawing them closer to her, she began to pat their heads and talk very nicely to them.

“You are lovely children! Don’t give yourselves such airs. I am Rosina Dainty-Mouth and just love little children like you,” but she didn’t say how she preferred them broiled or stewed. Nevertheless, Haensel had his doubts about her, in spite of her affectionate pretensions.

Come, little mousey,
Come into my housey!
Come with me, my precious,
I’ll give you sweets, delicious!

This extraordinary old lady cried, naming things that made the children’s mouths water. But there was Haensel’s caution! He was not to be caught napping after sunrise. Gretel, however, recalled the flavour of the eave-spout which she had lately tasted and could not help showing a certain amount of interest.

“Just what shall I get if I go into your housey?” she inquired; but before the old creature could reply, Haensel had pulled Gretel’s petticoat.

“Have a care! Do not take anything from her that you can help. She is meaning to fatten us and cook us,” which was the exact truth. At that moment, Haensel got clear of the rope which had been about his neck and ran to Gretel, but the old witch pointed at them a stick which had been hanging at her girdle, and instantly they found themselves spellbound. She repeated this blood-curdling rhyme, and there they stood, quite helpless:

Hocus pocus, witches’ charm!
Move not as you fear my arm.
Back or forward, do not try,
Fixed you are, by the evil eye!

And “fixed” they were. Now, right in the middle of the forenoon, it began to grow horribly dark, and as it darkened, the little knob on the end of her stick began to glow brilliantly, and as Haensel watched it, fascinated, the witch gradually led him, by the stick’s charm, into the stable, and fastened him in. Then the knob of the stick gradually ceased to glow, and Gretel was still standing there.

“Now while I feed Haensel up till he is plump as a partridge, you stand where you are,” said the witch, and into the house she went. Gretel stood horrified, and Haensel whispered to her:

“Don’t speak loud, and be very watchful, Gretelkin. Pretend to do everything the witch commands, yet be very watchful. There she comes again”; and so she did, with a basket full of raisins and other things for him to eat. She stuck good things into his mouth, as if she were fattening a Strasburg goose, and after that she disenchanted Gretel with a juniper branch.

“Now, then, you go and set the table,” she ordered, then turning again to Haensel she found him apparently asleep.

“That’s good! It is a way to grow fat,” she grinned. “I’ll just begin my supper with Gretel. She looks quite plump enough as she is. Here, my love,” she cried, opening the oven door, and sniffing some gingerbread figures within, “just look into the oven and tell me if it is hot enough to bake in,” she called.

Oh, when from the oven I take her,
She’ll look like a cake from the baker,

the old wretch giggled to herself. But Gretel pretended not to hear her; and after all, she thought the oven not quite hot enough to push Gretel into, so she began jabbering about the witch’s ride she was going to have that night at twelve, on her broomstick. As she thought about it she became very enthusiastic, and getting upon her broom she went galloping about the house and back. When she got through performing in this outrageous manner which fairly froze Gretel’s blood in her veins the old witch tickled Haensel with a birch-twig till he woke.

“Here, my little darling, show me your tongue,” she said, and Haensel stuck out his tongue as if the doctor had been called to investigate his liver. “My, but you are in fine condition,” the old wretch mumbled smacking her lips. “Let me see your thumb,” she demanded, and instead of sticking out his plump thumb, Haensel poked a tiny bone through the bars of the cage. “Oh! how lean and scraggy! You won’t do yet”; and she called to Gretel to bring more food for him, and there she stopped to stuff him again. Then she again opened the oven door, looking all the while at Gretel.

“How she makes my mouth water,” she muttered. “Come here, little Gretelkin, poke your head into the oven and tell me if you think it hot enough for us to bake in.” At this awful moment Haensel whispered:

“Oh, be careful, Gretel!” Gretel nodded at him behind the witch’s back.

“Just smell that lovely gingerbread. Do poke your head in to see if it is quite done. Then you shall have a piece hot from the oven.” Gretel still hung back.

“I don’t quite know how to do it,” she apologized. “If you will just show me how to reach up,” she murmured; and the old witch, quite disgusted that Gretel should take so long to do as she was bid, and so delay the feast, said:

“Why, this way, you goose,” poking her head into the oven, and instantly, Haensel, who had slipped out of the stable, sprang upon the old woman, gave her the push she had intended to give Gretel, and into the oven she popped, and bang went the oven door, while the children stood looking at each other and shivering with fright.

“Oh, my suz! Do you suppose we have her fast?”

“I guess we have,” Haensel cried, grabbing Gretel about the waist and dancing wildly in glee. Then they rushed into the house and began to fill their pockets with good things. While they were at this, the oven began to crack dreadfully. The noise was quite awful.

“Oh, mercy! What is happening?” Gretel cried. And at that moment the awful oven fell apart, and out jumped a lot of little children with the gingerbread all falling off them, while they sprang about Haensel and Gretel in great joy. But all their eyes were shut.

They laughed and sang and hopped, crying that Haensel and Gretel had saved them because by baking the old witch they had broken the oven’s charm.

“But why don’t you open your eyes,” Gretel asked.

“We shall not be entirely disenchanted till you touch us,” they told her, and then upon being touched by Gretel they opened their eyes like ten-day-old kittens.

Then Haensel took a juniper branch and repeated what he had heard the witch say:

Hocus pocus elder bush,
Rigid body loosen, hush!

and there came that gingerbread hedge, walking on legs, the beautiful gingerbread falling all over the place, and the whole fence turning back into little children.

At that very moment came the broom-maker and his wife, who had sought for the children till they had become nearly distracted. When the children saw them they ran into their mother’s arms. All the gingerbread children were singing at the top of their voices and were carrying on in the most joyous way.

Two boys had run to the broken oven, and had begun to drag out an immense gingerbread it was the old witch, turned into the finest cake ever seen. It was well that she turned out to be good in the end, if only good gingerbread. They dragged her out where everybody could see her, and broke a piece of her off; and then they shoved her into the cottage.

“Now, you see how good children are taken care of,” the broom-maker sang; while everybody danced about the disenchanted Ilsenstein, before they went into the house for supper.