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  "meta": {
    "schema_version": "1.1",
    "endpoint": "/api/sources/goethe-works/faust/faust-i/25-scene-22-oberon-and-titanias-golden-wedding.json"
  },
  "work": {
    "slug": "faust-i",
    "name": "Faust I (1808)"
  },
  "parents": [
    {
      "slug": "goethe-works",
      "name": "Works of Goethe",
      "url": "/sources/goethe-works/"
    },
    {
      "slug": "faust",
      "name": "Faust (Parts I and II)",
      "url": "/sources/faust/"
    }
  ],
  "chapter": {
    "num": 25,
    "slug": "25-scene-22-oberon-and-titanias-golden-wedding",
    "title": "Scene XXII — Oberon and Titania's Golden Wedding",
    "of": 28,
    "words": 1108,
    "text": "INTERMEZZO.\n\nM aNnaGER.\nONS of Mieding, rest to-day ! 15°\nNeedless your machinery :\nMisty vale and mountain gray,\n\nThat is all the scenery.\n\nHERALD.\nThat the wedding golden be,\nMust fifty years be rounded :\nBut the Golden give to me,\nWhen the strife 's compounded.\n\n_ OBERON.\nSpirits, if you 're here, be seen —\nShow yourselves, delighted !\nFairy king and fairy queen,\nThey are newly plighted.\n\nFaust\n\nPuck.35!\n\nCometh Puck, and, light of limb,\nWhisks and whirls in measure:\nCome a hundred after him,\n\nTo share with him the pleasure.\n\nARIEL.152\n\nAriel's song is heavenly-pure,\nHis tones are sweet and rare ones:\nThough ugly faces he allure,\n\nYet he allures the fair ones.\n\nOBERON.\n\nSpouses, who would fain agree,\nLearn how we were mated!\nIf your pairs would loving be,\n\nFirst be separated !\n\nTITANIA.\n\nIf her whims the wife control,\nAnd the man berate her,\n\nTake him to the Northern Pole,\nAnd her to the Equator !\n\nScene XXII. 277\n\nOrcHESTRA. 'Tutt.4353\nFortissimo.\n\nSnout of fly, mosquito-bill,\nAnd kin of all conditions,\nFrog in grass, and cricket-trill, —\n\nThese are the musicians!\n\nSOLo. 154\n\nSee the bagpipe on our track!\n*T is the soap-blown bubble: |\nHear the schnecke-schnicke-schnack\n\nThrough his nostrils double!\n\nSPIRIT, JUST GROWING INTO ForM.155\n\nSpider's foot and paunch of toad,\nAnd little wings — we know 'em!\nA little creature 't will not be,\n\nBut yet, a little poem.\n\nA Littte Coup te.'5§\n\nLittle step and lofty leap\nThrough honey-dew and fragrance:\nYou 'll never mount the airy steep\n\nWith all your tripping vagrance.\n\n278 faust.\n\nINQUISITIVE TRAVELLER.!57\n\nIs 't but masquerading play?\nSee I with precision?\nOberon, the beauteous fay,\n\n. Meets, to-night, my vision!\n\nOrTHODOx.158\n\nNot a claw, no tail I see! |\n\nAnd yet, beyond a cavil,\n\nLike \"'the Gods of Greece,\" must he\nAlso be a devil.\n\nNorTHERN ARTIST.!59\n\nI only seize, with sketchy air,\nSome outlines of the tourney ;\nYet I betimes myself prepare\n\nFor my Italian journey.\n\nPouristT.\n\nMy bad luck brings me here, alas!\nHow roars the orgy, louder!\nAnd of the witches in the mass,\n\nBut only two wear powder.\n\nScene XXL,\n\nYounc WITcH.\n\nPowder becomes, like petticoat,\nA gray and wrinkled noddy ;\nSo I sit naked on my goat,\nAnd show a strapping body.\n\nMATRON.\n\nWe've too much tact and policy\nTo rate with gibes a scolder ;\nYet, young and tender though you be,\n\nI hope to see you moulder.\n\nLEADER OF THE BAND.\nFly-snout and mosquito-bill,\nDon't swarm so round the Naked!\nFrog in grass and cricket-trill,\nObserve the time, and make it!\n\nWEATHERCOCK (towards one side).1©\n\nSociety to one's desire!\n\nBrides only, and the sweetest !\nAnd bachelors of youth and fre,\nAnd prospects the completest !\n\nFaust.\n\nWEATHERCOCK (fewards the other side).\n\nAnd if the Earth don't open now\nTo swallow up each ranter, |\nWhy, then will I myself, I vow,\n\nJump into hell instanter !\n\nXENIES. 16!\n\nUs as little insects see! |\nWith sharpest nippers flitting,\nThat our Papa Satan we >\nMay honor as is fitting.\n\nHeEnnincs.!62\n\nHow, in crowds together massed,\nThey are jesting, shameless !\nThey will even say, at last,\n\nThat their hearts are blameless.\n\nMUuSAGETES.\n\nAmong this witches' revelry\nHis way one gladly loses ;\nAnd, truly, it would easier be\n\nThan to command the Muses.\n\nScene XXL.\n\nC1-DEVANT GENIUS OF THE AGE.\n\nThe proper folks one's talents laud :\nCome on, and none shall pass us!\nThe Blocksberg has a summit broad,\n\nLike Germany's Parnassus.\n\nInQuisiTIVE TRAVELLER.\n\nSay, who's the stiff and pompous man?\nHe walks with haughty paces:\nHe snuffles all he snuffle can:\n\n\"He scents the Jesuits' traces.\"\n\nCrane. '63\n\nBoth clear and muddy streams, for me\nAre good to fish and sport in:\nAnd thus the pious man you see\n\nWith even devils consorting.\n\nW oRLDLING.! 64\n\nYes, for the pious, I suspect,\nAll instruments are fitting ;\nAnd on the Blocksberg they erect\n\nFull many a place of meeting.\n\n282 Faust.\n\nDANCER.\n\nA newer chorus now succeeds!\nI hear the distant drumming.\n\"Don't be disturbed? 't is, in the reeds,\n\nThe bittern's changeless booming.\"\n\nDancinc-MastTER.\n\nHow each his legs in nimble trip\nLifts up, and makes a clearance!\nThe crooked jump, the heavy skip,\n\nNor care for the appearance.\n\nGoop FEL.tow.'5\n\nThe rabble by such hate are held,\n\nTo maim and slay delights them :\n\nAs Orpheus' lyre the brutes compelled,\nThe bagpipe here unites them.\n\nDoGMaTIST.\n\nI Il not be led by any lure\n\nOf doubts or critic-cavils:\n\nThe Devil must be something, sure, —\nOr how should there be devils?\n\nScene XXII.\n\nIDEALIST. 166\n\nThis once, the fancy wrought in me\nIs really too despotic :\nForsooth, if I am all I see,\n\nI must be idiotic!\n\nREALIST.\n\nThis racking fuss on every hand,\nIt gives me great vexation ;\nAnd, for the first time, here I stand\n\nOn insecure foundation.\n\nSUPERNATURALIST.\n\nWith much delight I see the play,\nAnd grant to these their merits,\nSince from the devils I also may\n\nInfer the better spirits.\n\nScEpTic. 167\n\nThe flame they follow, on and on,\n\nAnd think they 're near the treasure:\n\nBut Devi/ rhymes with Doudt alone,\n\nSo I am here with pleasure.\n\n-283\n\nFaust.\n\nLEADER OF THE Banp.\n\nFrog in green, and cricket-trill,\nSuch dilettants ! — perdition!\nFly-snout and mosquito-bill, —\n\nEach one's a fine musician !\n\nTue Aproirt.!6\n\nSanssouci, we call the clan\nOf merry creatures so, then ;\nGo a-foot no more we can,\n\nAnd on our heads we go, then.\n\nTHe AWKWARD.\n\nOnce many a bit we sponged; but now,\nGod help us! that is done with:\nOur shoes are all danced out, we trow,\n\nWe've but naked soles to run with.\n\nWILL-o '-THE- WiIsps.!69\n\nFrom the marshes we appear,\nWhere we originated ;\nYet in the ranks, at once, we're here\n\nAs glittering gallants rated.\n\nScene XXL. 285\n\nSHOOTING-STAR.\n\nDarting hither from the sky,\nIn star and fire light shooting,\nCross-wise now in grass I lie:\n\nWho 'll help me to my footing ?\n\nTue Heavy FEL.Lows.\n\nRoom! and round about us, room!\nTrodden are the grasses :\nSpirits also, spirits come,\n\nAnd they are bulky masses.\n\nPuck.\n\nEnter not so stall-fed quite,\n\nLike elephant-calves about one!\nAnd the heaviest weight to-night\nBe Puck, himself, the stout one!\n\nARIEL.\n\nIf loving Nature at your back,\nOr Mind, the wings uncloses,\nFollow up my airy track\n\nTo the mount of roses!\n\nFaust.\n\nORCHESTRA.\nPianissimo.\n\nCloud and trailing mist o'erhead\nAre now illuminated :\nAir in leaves, and wind in reed,\n\nAnd all is dissipated.'7°\n\nScene XXITT. 287\n\nXXITT.\n\nDREARY Day.\"\nA Fre vp.",
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  }
}