Quite right. I see it also, and allege
That she beneath her arm her head can bear,
Since Perseus cut it off.—But you I swear
Are craving for illusions still!
Come then, ascend yon little hill!
As on the Prater all is gay,
And if my senses are not gone,
I see a theatre,—what's going on?
SERVIBILIS
They are about to recommence;—the play,
Will be the last of seven, and spick-span new—
'Tis usual here that number to present.
A dilettante did the piece invent,
And dilettanti will enact it too.
Excuse me, gentlemen; to me's assign'd,
As dilettante to uplift the curtain.
MEPHISTOPHELES
You on the Blocksberg I'm rejoiced to find,
That 'tis your most appropriate sphere is certain.
WALPURGIS-NIGHT'S DREAM; OR, OBERON AND TITANIA'S GOLDEN WEDDING-FEAST
INTERMEZZO
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