The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 516

PREFACE.

TOBOLSKO, 2d February.

Tum primum radiis gelidi incaluere Triones.

Flowers in Siberia? Behind this lies a piece of knavery, or the sun must make face against midnight. And yet--if ye were to exert yourselves!

'Tis really so; we have been hunting sables long enough; let us for once in a way try our luck with flowers. Have not enough Europeans come to us stepsons of the sun, and waded through our hundred years' snow, to pluck a modest flower? Shame upon our ancestors--we'll gather them ourselves, and frank a whole basketful to Europe. Do not crush them, ye children of a milder heaven!

But to be serious; to remove the iron weight of prejudice that broods heavily over the north, requires a stronger lever than the enthusiasm of a few individuals, and a firmer Hypomochlion than the shoulders of two or three patriots. Yet if this anthology reconciles you squeamish Europeans to us snow-men as little as--let's suppose the case--our "Muses'

Almanac," [61] which we--let's again suppose the case--might have written, it will at least have the merit of helping its companions through the whole of Germany to give the last neck-stab to expiring taste, as we people of Tobolsko like to word it.

If your Homers talk in their sleep, and your Herculeses kill flies with their clubs--if every one who knows how to give vent to his portion of sorrow in dreary Alexandrines, interprets that as a call to Helicon, shall we northerns be blamed for tinkling the Muses' lyre?--Your matadors claim to have coined silver when they have stamped their effigy on wretched pewter; and at Tobolsko coiners are hanged. 'Tis true that you may often find paper-money amongst us instead of Russian roubles, but war and hard times are an excuse for anything.

Go forth then, Siberian anthology! Go! Thou wilt make many a c.o.xcomb happy, wilt be placed by him on the toilet-table of his sweetheart, and in reward wilt obtain her alabaster, lily-white hand for his tender kiss.

Go! thou wilt fill up many a weary gulf of ennui in a.s.semblies and city-visits, and may be relieve a Circa.s.sienne, who has confessed herself weary amidst a shower of calumnies. Go! thou wilt be consulted in the kitchens of many critics; they will fly thy light, and like the screech-owl, retreat into thy shadow. Ho, ho, ho! Already I hear the ear-cracking howls in the inhospitable forest, and anxiously conceal myself in my sable.

SUPPRESSED POEMS.

THE JOURNALISTS AND MINOS.

I chanced the other eve,-- But how I ne'er will tell,-- The paper to receive.

That's published down in h.e.l.l.

In general one may guess, I little care to see This free-corps of the press Got up so easily;

But suddenly my eyes A side-note chanced to meet, And fancy my surprise At reading in the sheet:--

"For twenty weary springs"

(The post from Erebus, Remark me, always brings Unpleasant news to us)--

"Through want of water, we Have well-nigh lost our breath; In great perplexity h.e.l.l came and asked for Death;

"'They can wade through the Styx, Catch crabs in Lethe's flood; Old Charon's in a fix, His boat lies in the mud,

"'The dead leap over there, The young and old as well; The boatman gets no fare, And loudly curses h.e.l.l.'

"King Minos bade his spies In all directions go; The devils needs must rise, And bring him news below.

"Hurrah! The secret's told They've caught the robber's nest; A merry feast let's hold!

Come, h.e.l.l, and join the rest!

"An author's countless band, Stalked round Cocytus' brink, Each bearing in his hand A gla.s.s for holding ink.

"And into casks they drew The water, strange to say, As boys suck sweet wine through An elder-reed in play.

"Quick! o'er them cast the net, Ere they have time to flee!

Warm welcome ye will get, So come to Sans-souci!

"Smelt by the king ere long, He sharpened up his tooth, And thus addressed the throng (Full angrily, in truth):

"'The robbers is't we see?

What trade? What land, perchance?'-- 'German news-writers we!'-- Enough to make us dance!

"'A wish I long have known To bid ye stop and dine, Ere ye by Death were mown, That brother-in-law of mine.

"'Yet now by Styx I swear, Whose flood ye would imbibe, That torments and despair Shall fill your vermin-tribe!

"'The pitcher seeks the well, Till broken 'tis one day; They who for ink would smell, The penalty must pay.

"'So seize them by their thumbs, And loosen straight my beast E'en now he licks his gums, Impatient for the feast.'--

"How quivered every limb Beneath the bull-dog's jaws Their honors baited him, And he allowed no pause.

"Convulsively they swear, Still writhe the rabble rout, Engaged with anxious care In pumping Lethe out."

Ye Christians, good and meek, This vision bear in mind; If journalists ye seek, Attempt their thumbs to find.

Defects they often hide, As folks whose hairs are gone We see with wigs supplied Probatum! I have done!

BACCHUS IN THE PILLORY.

Twirl him! twirl him! blind and dumb Deaf and dumb, Twirl the cane so troublesome!

Sprigs of fas.h.i.+on by the dozen Thou dost bring to book, good cousin.

Cousin, thou art not in clover; Many a head that's filled with smoke Thou hast twirled and well-nigh broke, Many a clever one perplexed, Many a stomach sorely vexed, Turning it completely over; Many a hat put on awry, Many a lamb chased cruelly, Made streets, houses, edges, trees, Dance around us fools with ease.

Therefore thou are not in clover, Therefore thou, like other folk, Hast thy head filled full of smoke, Therefore thou, too, art perplexed, And thy stomach's sorely vexed, For 'tis turned completely over; Therefore thou art not in clover.

Twirl him! twirl him! blind and dumb Deaf and dumb, Twirl the carle so troublesome!

Seest thou how our tongues and wits Thou hast s.h.i.+vered into bits-- Seest thou this, licentious wight?

How we're fastened to a string, Whirled around in giddy ring, Making all like night appear, Filling with strange sounds our ear?

Learn it in the stocks aright!

When our ears wild noises shook, On the sky we cast no look, Neither stock nor stone reviewed, But were punished as we stood.

Seest thou now, licentious wight?

That, to us, yon flaring sun Is the Heidelbergers' tun; Castles, mountains, trees, and towers, Seem like chopin-cups of ours.

Learn'st thou now, licentious wight?

Learn it in the stocks aright!

Twirl him! twirl him! blind and dumb, Deaf and dumb, Twirl the carle so troublesome!

Kinsman, once so full of glee, Kinsman, where's thy drollery, Where thy tricks, thou cunning one?

All thy tricks are spent and past, To the devil gone at last Like a silly fop thou'lt prate, Like a washerwoman rate.