recompense for your lavished blood to be wrapped round
gingerbread by some Nuremberg chandler, or, if you have great luck, to
be screwed upon stilts by a French playwright, and be made to move on
wires! Ha, ha, ha!

SPIEGEL. (drinks). Read Josephus, I tell you.

CHARLES VON M. Fie! fie upon this weak, effeminate age, fit for nothing
but to ponder over the deeds of former times, and torture the heroes of
antiquity with commentaries, or mangle them in tragedies. The vigor of
its loins is dried up, and the propagation of the human species has
become dependent on potations of malt liquor.

SPIEGEL. Tea, brother! tea!

CHARLES VON M. They curb honest nature with absurd conventionalities;
have scarcely the heart to charge a glass, because they are tasked to
drink a health in it; fawn upon the lackey that he may put in a word for
them with His Grace, and bully the unfortunate wight from whom they have
nothing to fear. They worship any one for a dinner, and are just as
ready to poison him should he chance to outbid them for a feather-bed
at an auction. They damn the Sadducee who fails to come regularly to
church, although their own devotion consists in reckoning up their
usurious gains at the very altar. They cast themselves on their knees
that they may have an opportunity of displaying their mantles, and
hardly take their eyes off the parson from their anxiety to see how his
wig is frizzled. They swoon at the sight of a bleeding goose, yet clap
their hands with joy when they see their rival driven bankrupt from the
Exchange. Warmly as I pressed their hands,--"Only one more day." In
vain! To prison with the dog! Entreaties! Vows! Tears! (stamping
the ground). Hell and the devil!

SPIEGEL. And all for a few thousand paltry ducats!

CHARLES VON M. No, I hate to think of it. Am I to squeeze my body into
stays, and straight-lace my will in the trammels of law. What might
have risen to an eagle's flight has been reduced to a snail's pace by
law. Never yet has law formed a great man; 'tis liberty that breeds
giants and heroes. Oh! that the spirit of Herman* still glowed in his
ashes!

*[Herman is the German for Armin or Arminius, the celebrated
deliverer of Germany from the Roman yoke. See Menzel's History,
vol. i., p. 85, etc.]

Set me at the head of an army of fellows like myself, and out of Germany
shall spring a republic compared to which Rome and Sparta will be but as
nunneries. (Rises and flings his sword up