Narrhalla

by Meister Carl

NARRHALLA.

O’er an old ruined gateway
Philosophus hung,
And wildly his rattle
And bell-cap he swung;
And wildly he shouted
His wanton halloo
To the masquers who streamed
O’er the pavement below:
‘To moonshine and torches
Bright eyes add your light;
Rush, rush to the revel!
Be glorious to-night!
Come dance to the organ;
Be glad, one and all;
Ye magnified monkeys,
Come haste to my ball!’

As his mask bore a genial,
An exquisite grin,
Through the vine-covered portal
Came guests sweeping in;
Through torch-light and shadow,
O’er terrace and stair,
The halt and the healthy,
The brown and the fair:
‘To-night hide your reason
And sense in your pocket,
And when we find leisure,
At leisure we ’ll mock it;
Let each sensible speaker
Be jammed to the wall,
Or kicked out of doorsm
Ere we open our ball!

‘For the fool is a wise man,
The wise man a fool,
And the best of all lords
Is a lord of mis-rule!’
Thus screamed the masked jester
Aloud ’tween his teeth,
But fiercely a proud lip
Was curling beneath,
And fiercely he muttered
In different style,
While madly his bell-cap
He jingled the while:
‘I was cuffed when a sage,
Now I ’m praised as buffoon;
And since I do pipe,
They shall dance to my tune!
Yes, dance to the devil,
Great, middling and small;
Much good may it do them
Who haste to my ball!

‘There are some who find folly
A wearisome task;
Beware lest you show it!
Oh, loose not your mask!
If fools, let them slumber,
Or change with the crowd;
Is wise, let them whisper,
But never aloud.
I know you, I know you!
Peace, patience awhile!
Be fools, but be masters
Among the canaille;
Think, think what you will,
But like lunatics squall;
And then you ’ll be leaders
To-night in the ball!

‘Come, listen, good people!
Hip! ho there! halloo!
I ’ll tell you a story
Both merry and true:
I once lived in a city,
An age ere the flood,
Where all men were prudent,
Wise, learned, and good:
And was told in a vision
To say to the town,
That on the next Sunday
Much rain would come down;
And whoe’er should be spattered
By one single drop,
Must have all his reason
Washed off by the slop:
And all became crazy,
The great and the small;
In fact, just like us,
Who are here at the ball!

‘But in those early ages,
To add to their woes,
They had no umbrellas,
Or water-proof clothes;
And as they were wise
They all laughed at a dream,
And, returning from meeting,
Were soaked in the stream:
So when I went out
On that same afternoon,
I found every mortal
As wild as a loon;
Yes, fairly demented,
Uproarious all,
Quite fit to be present
To-night at the ball!

‘There was one jolly fellow
Had dug up a pile
Of bright yellow dust,
Which he guarded the while;
And several were fighting,
And diverse were drunk,
While some in polemics
Were dreadfully sunk:
And others were raising
A terrible clamor,
As they bid for a maiden
Just brought to the hammer,
While many were gabbling
Of stocks’ rise and fall;
Yes, you understand that,
Some of you in the ball.’

‘The one-eyed may be great
In the land of the blind;
But a sage among fools
Is a long way behind:
For I really found out,
To my great surprise,
That I was the mad man
And they were the wise;
Lord! lord! how they hooted!
One cried, rather stern,
“Lo! here comes the dreamer!
Quick! à la lanterne!”
So I ran for my life
From the crazy men all,
Yes I, your great leader
To-night in the ball!’

‘Yes, they were all glorious,
I only was sad,
How I longed to strike in
With the rest and be mad!
In a rut in the road,
Still a puddle I found,
And straight in that puddle
My reason I drowned;
I ought to have drunk it,
But that I forgot,
For scarce had I touched it,
When reason was not:
I would I had soaked me,
Soul, marrow, and all,
Like the maddest, the bravest
Who scream in our ball.’

‘Ho! look at this pretzel,
Or carnival cake;
’T is made in the form
Of a two-headed snake;
It hideth great mysteries,
Great jokes, I may say;
It is man, ’t is the world,
’T is the all of to-day,
And its two heads betoken
The sorrow and mirth,
Or the wisdom and folly
Which govern our earth;
Or the pain and the pleasure,
The bad and the good,
Which circle in all things
By dry land or flood;
And it feeds on itself
And it feeds on us all,
As we feed upon it
To-night at the ball.’

‘Hurrah for the bright world,
So green and so round!
Hurrah for the maidens
That on it abound!
Hurrah for the wild ones
That give it a tone:
Hurrah for the Master!
Who claims it alone.’

(sotto voce)

Who will claim till he lose it,
For thank God! some day
These masks and our folly
Must vanish away;
Alas! that till then
We must dance on the floor,
And howl with the wolves
Till their madness be o’er.