Then with a jerk he wheeled him by, And on a maiden that stood nigh He with his elbow came. Quick turned the wench, and, "Sir," quoth she, "Such game is rather rough for me." Juchhe, juchhe! Juchheisa, heisa, he! "For shame, I say, for shame!" Yet merrily went it round and round, And right and left they swept the ground, And coat and kirtle flew; And they grew red, and they grew warm, And, panting, rested arm in arm; Juchhe, juchhe! Juchheisa, heisa, he! And hips on elbows too. And "Softly, softly," quoth the quean, "How many a bride hath cheated been By men as fair as you!" But he spoke a word in her ear aside, And from the tree it shouted wide Juchhe, juchhe! Juchheisa, heisa, he! With fife and fiddle too. An Old Peasant. Herr Doctor, 'tis most kind in you, And all here prize the boon, I'm sure, That one so learned should condescend To share the pastimes of the poor. Here, take this pitcher, filled ev'n now With cooling water from the spring. May God with grace to slake your thirst, Bless the libation that we bring; Be every drop a day to increase Your years in happiness and peace! Faust. Your welcome offering I receive; the draught By kind hands given, with grateful heart be quaffed! [_The people collect round him in a circle._ Old Peasant. Soothly, Herr Doctor, on this tide, Your grace and kindness passes praise; Good cause had we whileome to bless The name of Faust in evil days. Here stand there not a few whose lives Your father's pious care attest, Saved from fell fever's rage, when he Set limits to the deadly pest. You were a young man then, and went From hospital to hospital; Full many a corpse they bore away, But you came scaithless back from all; Full many a test severe you stood Helping helped by the Father of Good. All the Peasants. Long may the man who saved us live, His aid in future need to give! Faust. Give thanks to Him above, who made The hand that helped you strong to aid. [_He goes on farther with_ /Wagner/. Wagner. How proud must thou not feel, most learnèd man, To hear the praises of this multitude; Thrice happy he who from his talents can Reap such fair harvest of untainted good! The father shows you to his son, And all in crowds to see you run; The dancers cease their giddy round, The fiddle stops its gleesome sound; They form a ring where'er you go, And in the air their caps they throw; A little more, and they would bend the knee, As if the Holy Host came by in thee!