What a downpour it has been, and now it has stopped! (He sings again, and continues his song.)
’Twas at the dawn, the early one,
At the fall of the shining moon....
How it did blow! I declare, it did blow; why, it almost tore my mill down. I would have been left with nothing. It has done some damage,—thanks to the Lord, not much damage. Did I say not much damage? Well, I have enough to do to fix it up. (Putting the level to the board.) It’ll come out all right, and all will go well again. (Advancing towards the orchestra.) I have to laugh every time I think of it; they say that a mill cannot exist without a wizard, and that a miller isn’t just a man like anybody else: he is on speaking terms with the house-spirit, and the house-spirits live in their mills like devils ... ha, ha, ha, ha! What bosh! Am I not a miller through and through? I was born, brought up, and have grown old in the mill, and yet I have never laid my eyes on a house-spirit. Now, to tell the gospel truth, it’s just this: if you are a shrewd fellow and a good hand at cheating, that sorcery business is a good thing.... Let them prattle what they please, but we earn our bread by our profession.
Who by cheating makes a living,
Him at once all call a gipsy,
And you gain through gipsy dealings
The reputation of a wizard.
Even in that way the witches
Make a living by deception.