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Yes, Neighbor! that's my notion, too: Why, let them break their heads, let loose their pa.s.sions, And mix things madly through and through, So, here, we keep our good old fas.h.i.+ons!
OLD WOMAN (to the Citizen's Daughter)
Dear me, how fine! So handsome, and so young!
Who wouldn't lose his heart, that met you?
Don't be so proud! I'll hold my tongue, And what you'd like I'll undertake to get you.
CITIZEN'S DAUGHTER
Come, Agatha! I shun the witch's sight Before folks, lest there be misgiving: 'Tis true, she showed me, on Saint Andrew's Night, My future sweetheart, just as he were living.
THE OTHER
She showed me mine, in crystal clear, With several wild young blades, a soldier-lover: I seek him everywhere, I pry and peer, And yet, somehow, his face I can't discover.
SOLDIERS
Castles, with lofty Ramparts and towers, Maidens disdainful In Beauty's array, Both shall be ours!
Bold is the venture, Splendid the pay!
Lads, let the trumpets For us be suing,- Calling to pleasure, Calling to ruin.
Stormy our life is; Such is its boon!
Maidens and castles Capitulate soon.
Bold is the venture, Splendid the pay!
And the soldiers go marching, Marching away!
FAUST AND WAGNER
FAUST
Released from ice are brook and river By the quickening glance of the gracious Spring; The colors of hope to the valley cling, And weak old Winter himself must s.h.i.+ver, Withdrawn to the mountains, a crownless king: Whence, ever retreating, he sends again Impotent showers of sleet that darkle In belts across the green o' the plain.
But the sun will permit no white to sparkle; Everywhere form in development moveth; He will brighten the world with the tints he loveth, And, lacking blossoms, blue, yellow, and red, He takes these gaudy people instead.
Turn thee about, and from this height Back on the town direct thy sight.
Out of the hollow, gloomy gate, The motley throngs come forth elate: Each will the joy of the suns.h.i.+ne h.o.a.rd, To honor the Day of the Risen Lord!
They feel, themselves, their resurrection: From the low, dark rooms, scarce habitable; From the bonds of Work, from Trade's restriction; From the pressing weight of roof and gable; From the narrow, crus.h.i.+ng streets and alleys; From the churches' solemn and reverend night, All come forth to the cheerful light.
How lively, see! the mult.i.tude sallies, Scattering through gardens and fields remote, While over the river, that broadly dallies, Dances so many a festive boat; And overladen, nigh to sinking, The last full wherry takes the stream.
Yonder afar, from the hill-paths blinking, Their clothes are colors that softly gleam.
I hear the noise of the village, even; Here is the People's proper Heaven; Here high and low contented see!
Here I am Man,-dare man to be!
WAGNER
To stroll with you, Sir Doctor, flatters; 'Tis honor, profit, unto me.
But I, alone, would shun these shallow matters, Since all that's coa.r.s.e provokes my enmity.
This fiddling, shouting, ten-pin rolling I hate,-these noises of the throng: They rave, as Satan were their sports controlling.
And call it mirth, and call it song!
PEASANTS, UNDER THE LINDEN-TREE (Dance and Song.) All for the dance the shepherd dressed, In ribbons, wreath, and gayest vest Himself with care arraying: Around the linden la.s.s and lad Already footed it like mad: Hurrah! hurrah!
Hurrah-tarara-la!
The fiddle-bow was playing.
He broke the ranks, no whit afraid, And with his elbow punched a maid, Who stood, the dance surveying: The buxom wench, she turned and said: "Now, you I call a stupid-head!"
Hurrah! hurrah!
Hurrah-tarara-la!
"Be decent while you're staying!"
Then round the circle went their flight, They danced to left, they danced to right: Their kirtles all were playing.
They first grew red, and then grew warm, And rested, panting, arm in arm,- Hurrah! hurrah!
Hurrah-tarara-la!
And hips and elbows straying.
Now, don't be so familiar here!
How many a one has fooled his dear, Waylaying and betraying!
And yet, he coaxed her soon aside, And round the linden sounded wide.
Hurrah! hurrah!
Hurrah-tarara-la!
And the fiddle-bow was playing.
OLD PEASANT
Sir Doctor, it is good of you, That thus you condescend, to-day, Among this crowd of merry folk, A highly-learned man, to stray.
Then also take the finest can, We fill with fresh wine, for your sake: I offer it, and humbly wish That not alone your thirst is slake,- That, as the drops below its brink, So many days of life you drink!
FAUST
I take the cup you kindly reach, With thanks and health to all and each.
(The People gather in a circle about him.)
OLD PEASANT
In truth, 'tis well and fitly timed, That now our day of joy you share, Who heretofore, in evil days, Gave us so much of helping care.
Still many a man stands living here, Saved by your father's skillful hand, That s.n.a.t.c.hed him from the fever's rage And stayed the plague in all the land.
Then also you, though but a youth, Went into every house of pain: Many the corpses carried forth, But you in health came out again.
FAUST
No test or trial you evaded: A Helping G.o.d the helper aided.
ALL
Health to the man, so skilled and tried.
That for our help he long may abide!
FAUST
To Him above bow down, my friends, Who teaches help, and succor sends!
(He goes on with WAGNER.)
WAGNER
