During the consternation of the parson and his charming feminine choir-boy I had time to look about me, and, to my joy, I made the discovery that the night-lock had not been put on the back door. Quick as a flash I pushed back the bolt, slipped out into the churchyard, where my companions were standing with triggers drawn, and left the parson to conjure devils as long as he pleased. And when Springinsfeld came down from the roof, bringing my hat along, and we had packed our spoils upon our shoulders, we returned to our party, not having anything more to do in the village, though I admit that we might have returned the borrowed ladder and rope. _Christoffel von Grimmelshausen_ (1620-1676). _THE REVOLT IN THE THEATRE._ (FROM ACT I. OF “A TOPSY-TURVY WORLD.”) SCARAMUCCIO.[1] POET. SCARAMUCCIO. No, Sir Poet, say what you please, talk as you wish, make as many objections as you can possibly make, it shall in no wise alter my purpose, to listen to nothing, to consider nothing, to insist upon having my own way,--so there! POET. Dear Scaramuccio! SCARAMUCCIO. I listen to nothing. Look, Sir Poet, how I am stopping up my ears. POET. But the piece---- SCARAMUCCIO. Nonsense! the piece! I am a piece too, and I have a perfect right to say my say. Or do you suppose I have no will of my own? Do you poets labour under the delusion that a gentleman actor is called upon to do just as you say? My dear sir, know you not that the times are changing? POET. But the spectators---- SCARAMUCCIO. And because there are spectators in the world, would you make me unhappy? Nice principles those! POET. Friend, you must listen to me. SCARAMUCCIO. Very well then, if I must. Here I sit; now talk like a sensible man, if it is in your nature so to do. (_Sits down on the ground._) POET. Most esteemed Sir Scaramuccio! Your Grace has been engaged at this theatre for a special _rôle_--in a word, to express myself briefly, you are the _Scaramuccio_. It is not to be denied that you have reached a degree of excellence in this your speciality, and there is no man in the world more willing than myself to do justice to your talents; but, my dear sir, for all that you are not possessed of the qualities fitting you for a tragedian; for all that you will never be able to play a lofty character. SCARAMUCCIO. The impudence of it! By my soul, I’ll play you a loftier character than you will be able to write. I take your remark as a personal insult, and I challenge the whole world to out-do me in the high and lofty. SCAEVOLA (_one of the spectators_). Oh, Sir Scaramuccio, we’ll all take up your challenge. SCARAMUCCIO. How so? What now? I confess I am struck dumb by this insolence. SCAEVOLA. My dear sir, there is no cause for that. I am here for my money, Sir Scaramuccio, and I can think what I please. SCARAMUCCIO. You are free to think as you see best, but you are not allowed to speak here. SCAEVOLA. So long as you may speak, I don’t see why I shouldn’t.