Zig-a-zig-a-zig, how it makes you quake,
As you hear the bones of the dancers shake.
* * * * *
But hist! all at once they vanish away,
The cock has hailed the dawn of day.
The magic midnight strokes sound clear and sharp. In eager chords of
tuned pitch the fiddling ghost summons the dancing groups, where the
single fife is soon followed by demon violins.
Broadly sings now the descending tune half-way between a wail and a
laugh. And ever in interlude is the skipping, mincing step,--here of
reeds answered by solo violin with a light clank of cymbals. Answering
the summoning fifes, the unison troop of fiddlers dance the main step
to bright strokes of triangle, then the main ghostly violin trips in
with choir of wind. And broadly again sweeps the song between tears and
[Music: _In waltz rhythm_
(Flute)
(Harp, with sustained bass note of strings)]
smiles. Or Death fiddles the first strain of reel for the tumultuous
answer of chorus.
Now they build a busy, bustling fugue (of the descending song) and at
the serious moment suddenly
[Music: (Solo violin)
_Largamente_
(_Pizz._ strings)]
they skip away in new frolicsome, all but joyous, tune: a shadowy
counterfeit of gladness, where the sob hangs on the edge of the smile.
As if it could no longer be contained, now pours the full passionate
grief of the broad descending strain. Death fiddles his mournful chant
to echoing, expressive wind.
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