The monkey! Is she gone?
Again hast played the spy?
Of all that pass’d I’m well apprized,
I heard the doctor catechized,
And trust he’ll profit much thereby!
Fain would the girls inquire indeed
Touching their lover’s faith and creed,
And whether pious in the good old way;
They think, if pliant there, us too he will obey.
Thou monster, dost not see that this
Pure soul, possessed by ardent love,
Full of the living faith,
To her of bliss
The only pledge, must holy anguish prove,
Holding the man she loves fore-doomed to endless death!
Most sensual, supersensualist! The while
A damsel leads thee by the nose!
Of filth and fire abortion vile!
In physiognomy strange skill she shows;
She in my presence feels she knows not how;
My mask it seems a hidden sense reveals;
That I’m a genius she must needs allow,
That I’m the very devil perhaps she feels.
So then tonight—
What’s that to you?
I’ve my amusement in it too!
MARGARET and BESSY, with pitchers
Of Barbara hast nothing heard?
I rarely go from home—no, not a word.
’Tis true: Sybilla told me so today!
That comes of being proud, methinks;
She played the fool at last.
That two she feedeth when she eats and drinks.
She’s rightly served, in sooth.
How long she hung upon the youth!
What promenades, what jaunts there were
To dancing booth and village fair!
The first she everywhere must shine,
He always treating her to pastry and to wine.
Of her good looks she was so vain,
So shameless too, that to retain
His presents, she did not disdain;
Sweet words and kisses came anon—
And then the virgin flower was gone.