SCHW. And suppose it is called disgrace--what then? Cannot one, in case of need, always carry a small powder about one, which quietly smooths the weary traveller's passage across the Styx, where no cock-crowing will disturb his rest? No, brother Moritz! Your scheme is good; so at least says my creed. SCHUFT. Zounds! and mine too! Spiegelberg, I am your recruit. RAZ. Like a second Orpheus, Spiegelberg, you have charmed to sleep that howling beast, conscience! Take me as I stand, I am yours entirely! GRIMMM. _Si omnes consentiunt ego non dissentio_;* mind, without a comma. There is an auction going on in my head--methodists--quack doctors--reviewers--rogues;--the highest bidder has me. Here is my hand, Moritz! *[The joke is explained by placing a comma after non.] ROLLER. And you too, Schweitzer? (he gives his right hand to SPIEGELBERG). Thus I consign my soul to the devil. SPIEGEL. And your name to the stars! What does it signify where the soul goes to? If crowds of _avantcouriers_ give notice of our descent that the devils may put on their holiday gear, wipe the accumulated soot of a thousand years from their eyelashes, and myriads of horned heads pop up from the smoking mouth of their sulphurous chimneys to welcome our arrival! 'Up, comrades! (leaping up). Up! What in the world is equal to this ecstacy of delight? Come along, comrades! ROLLER. Gently, gently! Where are you going? Every beast must have a head, boys! SPIEGEL. (With bitterness). What is that incubus preaching about? Was not the head already there before a single limb began to move? Follow me, comrades! ROLLER. Gently, I say! even liberty must have its master. Rome and Sparta perished for want of a chief. SPIEGEL. (in a wheedling manner). Yes,--stay--Roller is right. And he must have an enlightened head. Do you understand? A keen, politic head. Yes! when I think what you were only an hour ago, and what you are now, and that it is all owing to one happy thought. Yes, of course, you must have a chief, and you'll own that he who struck out this idea may claim to have an enlightened and politic head? ROLLER. If one could hope, if one could dream, but I fear he will not consent. SPIEGEL. Why not? Speak out boldly, friend! Difficult as it may be to steer a laboring vessel against wind and tide, oppressive as may be the weight of a crown, speak your thought without hesitation, Roller! Perhaps he may be prevailed upon after all! ROLLER. And if he does not the whole vessel will be crazy enough. Without Moor we are a "body without a soul." SPIEGEL. (turning angrily from him). Dolt! blockhead! (Enter CHARLES VON MOOR in violent agitation, stalking backwards and forwards, and speaking to himself.)