Berloche" of the mischievous Hanswurst,[1] are puzzled whether they are to come or to go.
Whoever has heard documents read over in a law court can imagine the reading on this occasion,—quick and monotonous, but plain and articulate enough. The ingenious advocate contrives to interrupt the tedium by jests; and the public shows its delight in his jokes by immoderate laughter. I must mention one, the most striking of those I could understand. The reader was just reciting the document by which one who was considered to have been illegally possessed of it had disposed of the property in question. The advocate bade him read more slowly; and when he plainly uttered the words, "I give and bequeath," the orator flew violently at the clerk, and cried, "What will you give, what will you bequeath, you poor starved-out devil? Nothing in the world belongs to you. However," he continued, as he seemed to collect himself, "the illustrious owner was in the same predicament. He wished to give, he wished to bequeath, that which belonged to him no more than to you." A burst of inextinguishable laughter followed this sally, but the hour-glass at once resumed its horizontal position. The reader went mumbling on, and made a saucy face at the advocate. But all these jokes are prepared beforehand.
I was yesterday at the play in the theatre of St. Luke, and was highly pleased. I saw a piece acted extempore in masks, with a great deal of nature, energy, and vigour. The actors are not, indeed, all equal. The pantaloon is excellent; and one of the actresses, who is
- ↑ An allusion to the comic scene in the puppet-play of "Faust," from which Goethe took the subject of his poem. One of the two magic words (Berliche, Berloche) summons the devils, the other drives them away; and the Hanswurst (or "buffoon"), in a mock incantation scene, perplexes the fiends by uttering one word after the other as rapidly as possible.—Trans.
