"The women have free leave to go, Each with her choicest treasure; But let the knaves their husbands know That unto them the King will show The weight of his displeasure." With these sad terms the lovely train Stole weeping from the camp again.
But when the morning gilt the sky, What happened? Give attention:— The city gates wide open fly, And all the wives come trudging by, Each bearing—need I mention?— Her own dear husband on her back, All snugly seated in a sack!
Full many a sprig of court, the joke Not relishing, protested, And urged the King; but Conrad spoke:— "A monarch's word must not be broke!" And here the matter rested. "Bravo!" he cried, "Ha, ha! Bravo! Our lady guessed it would be so."
He pardoned all, and gave a ball That night at royal quarters. The fiddles squeaked, the trumpets blew, And up and down the dancers flew, Court sprigs with city daughters. The mayor's wife—O rarest sight!— Danced with the shoemaker that night!
Ah, where is Weinsberg, sir, I pray? 'Tis sure a famous city: It must have cradled in its day Full many a maid of noble clay, And matrons wise and witty; And if ever marriage should happen to me, A Weinsberg dame my wife shall be.
From the German of GOTTFRIED AUGÜST BÜRGER. Translation of CHARLES TIMOTHY BROOKS.
SORROWS OF WERTHER.
Werther had a love for Charlotte Such as words could never utter; Would you know how first he met her? She was cutting bread and butter.
Charlotte was a married lady, And a moral man was Werther, And for all the wealth of Indies Would do nothing for to hurt her.
So he sighed and pined and ogled, And his passion boiled and bubbled, Till he blew his silly brains out, And no more was by it troubled.