What are you
twirling
with the spoon?
Faust, a Tragedy by Goethe
]
Where's the old lady gone a mousing?
_The animals_. Carousing;
Out she went
By the chimney-vent!
_Mephistopheles_. How long does she spend in gadding and storming?
_The animals_. While we are giving our paws a warming.
_Mephistopheles_ [_to Faust_]. How do you find the dainty creatures?
_Faust_. Disgusting as I ever chanced to see!
_Mephistopheles_. No! a discourse like this to me,
I own, is one of life's most pleasant features;
[_To the animals_. ]
Say, cursed dolls, that sweat, there, toiling!
What are you twirling with the spoon?
_Animals_. A common beggar-soup we're boiling.
_Mephistopheles_. You'll have a run of custom soon.
THE HE-MONKEY
[_Comes along and fawns on_ MEPHISTOPHELES].
O fling up the dice,
Make me rich in a trice,
Turn fortune's wheel over!
My lot is right bad,
If money I had,
My wits would recover.
_Mephistopheles_. The monkey'd be as merry as a cricket,
Would somebody give him a lottery-ticket!
[_Meanwhile the young monkeys have been playing with a great
ball, which they roll backward and forward_. ]
_The monkey_. 'The world's the ball;
See't rise and fall,
Its roll you follow;
Like glass it rings:
Both, brittle things!
Within 'tis hollow.
There it shines clear,
And brighter here,--
I live--by 'Pollo! --
Dear son, I pray,
Keep hands away!
Where's the old lady gone a mousing?
_The animals_. Carousing;
Out she went
By the chimney-vent!
_Mephistopheles_. How long does she spend in gadding and storming?
_The animals_. While we are giving our paws a warming.
_Mephistopheles_ [_to Faust_]. How do you find the dainty creatures?
_Faust_. Disgusting as I ever chanced to see!
_Mephistopheles_. No! a discourse like this to me,
I own, is one of life's most pleasant features;
[_To the animals_. ]
Say, cursed dolls, that sweat, there, toiling!
What are you twirling with the spoon?
_Animals_. A common beggar-soup we're boiling.
_Mephistopheles_. You'll have a run of custom soon.
THE HE-MONKEY
[_Comes along and fawns on_ MEPHISTOPHELES].
O fling up the dice,
Make me rich in a trice,
Turn fortune's wheel over!
My lot is right bad,
If money I had,
My wits would recover.
_Mephistopheles_. The monkey'd be as merry as a cricket,
Would somebody give him a lottery-ticket!
[_Meanwhile the young monkeys have been playing with a great
ball, which they roll backward and forward_. ]
_The monkey_. 'The world's the ball;
See't rise and fall,
Its roll you follow;
Like glass it rings:
Both, brittle things!
Within 'tis hollow.
There it shines clear,
And brighter here,--
I live--by 'Pollo! --
Dear son, I pray,
Keep hands away!
