The clumsy hops, the crooked springs,
'Tis quite disreputable!
'Tis quite disreputable!
Faust, a Tragedy by Goethe
With what stiff step he travels!
He noses out whate'er he can.
"He scents the Jesuit devils. "
_Crane_. In clear, and muddy water, too,
The long-billed gentleman fishes;
Our pious gentlemen we view
Fingering in devils' dishes.
_Child of this world_. Yes, with the pious ones, 'tis clear,
"All's grist that comes to their mill;"
They build their tabernacles here,
On Blocksberg, as on Carmel.
_Dancer_. Hark! a new choir salutes my ear!
I hear a distant drumming.
"Be not disturbed! 'mong reeds you hear
The one-toned bitterns bumming. "
_Dancing-master. _ How each his legs kicks up and flings,
Pulls foot as best he's able!
The clumsy hops, the crooked springs,
'Tis quite disreputable!
_Fiddler_. The scurvy pack, they hate, 'tis clear,
Like cats and dogs, each other.
Like Orpheus' lute, the bagpipe here
Binds beast to beast as brother.
_Dogmatist_. You'll not scream down my reason, though,
By criticism's cavils.
The devil's something, that I know,
Else how could there be devils?
_Idealist_. Ah, phantasy, for once thy sway
Is guilty of high treason.
If all I see is I, to-day,
'Tis plain I've lost my reason.
_Realist_. To me, of all life's woes and plagues,
Substance is most provoking,
For the first time I feel my legs
Beneath me almost rocking.
_Supernaturalist_. I'm overjoyed at being here,
And even among these rude ones;
For if bad spirits are, 'tis clear,
There also must be good ones.
_Skeptic_. Where'er they spy the flame they roam,
And think rich stores to rifle,
Here such as I are quite at home,
For _Zweifel_ rhymes with _Teufel_.