LITMIR.BIZ

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Him,

      Thus is the Master near,–

      Thus is He here!

      Before the City-gate

      (Pedestrians of all kinds come forth.)

      SEVERAL APPRENTICES

      Why do you go that way?

      OTHERS

      We’re for the Hunters’ lodge, to-day.

      THE FIRST

      We’ll saunter to the Mill, in yonder hollow.

      AN APPRENTICE

      Go to the River Tavern, I should say.

      SECOND APPRENTICE

      But then, it’s not a pleasant way.

      THE OTHERS

      And what will you?

      A THIRD

      As goes the crowd, I follow.

      A FOURTH

      Come up to Burgdorf? There you’ll find good cheer,

      The finest lasses and the best of beer,

      And jolly rows and squabbles, trust me!

      A FIFTH

      You swaggering fellow, is your hide

      A third time itching to be tried?

      I won’t go there, your jolly rows disgust me!

      SERVANT-GIRL

      No,–no! I’ll turn and go to town again.

      ANOTHER

      We’ll surely find him by those poplars yonder.

      THE FIRST

      That’s no great luck for me, ‘tis plain.

      You’ll have him, when and where you wander:

      His partner in the dance you’ll be,–

      But what is all your fun to me?

      THE OTHER

      He’s surely not alone to-day:

      He’ll be with Curly-head, I heard him say.

      A STUDENT

      Deuce! how they step, the buxom wenches!

      Come, Brother! we must see them to the benches.

      A strong, old beer, a pipe that stings and bites,

      A girl in Sunday clothes,–these three are my delights.

      CITIZEN’S DAUGHTER

      Just see those handsome fellows, there!

      It’s really shameful, I declare;–

      To follow servant-girls, when they

      Might have the most genteel society to-day!

      SECOND STUDENT (to the First)

      Not quite so fast! Two others come behind,–

      Those, dressed so prettily and neatly.

      My neighbor’s one of them, I find,

      A girl that takes my heart, completely.

      They go their way with looks demure,

      But they’ll accept us, after all, I’m sure.

      THE FIRST

      No, Brother! not for me their formal ways.

      Quick! lest our game escape us in the press:

      The hand that wields the broom on Saturdays

      Will best, on Sundays, fondle and caress.

      CITIZEN

      He suits me not at all, our new-made Burgomaster!

      Since he’s installed, his arrogance grows faster.

      How has he helped the town, I say?

      Things worsen,–what improvement names he?

      Obedience, more than ever, claims he,

      And more than ever we must pay!

      BEGGAR (sings)

      Good gentlemen and lovely ladies,

      So red of cheek and fine of dress,

      Behold, how needful here your aid is,

      And see and lighten my distress!

      Let me not vainly sing my ditty;

      He’s only glad who gives away:

      A holiday, that shows your pity,

      Shall be for me a harvest-day!

      ANOTHER CITIZEN

      On Sundays, holidays, there’s naught I take delight in,

      Like gossiping of war, and war’s array,

      When down in Turkey, far away,

      The foreign people are a-fighting.

      One at the window sits, with glass and friends,

      And sees all sorts of ships go down the river gliding:

      And blesses then, as home he wends

      At night, our times of peace abiding.

      THIRD CITIZEN

      Yes, Neighbor! that’s my notion, too:

      Why, let them break their heads, let loose their passions,

      And mix things madly through and through,

      So, here, we keep our good old fashions!

      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.

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