A Book of Burlesques. H. L. Mencken

Pallbearer

      Well, if I had my choice, that’s the way I would always want to die.

      First Pallbearer

      Yes; that’s what I say. I am with you there.

      Second Pallbearer

      Yes; you’re right, both of you. It don’t do no good to lay sick for months, with doctors’ bills eatin’ you up, and then have to go anyhow.

      Third Pallbearer

      No; when a thing has to be done, the best thing to do is to get it done and over with.

      Fourth Pallbearer

      That’s just what I said to my wife when I heerd.

      Fifth Pallbearer

      But nobody hardly thought that he woulda been the next.

      Sixth Pallbearer

      No; but that’s one of them things you can’t tell.

      First Pallbearer

      You never know who’ll be the next.

      Second Pallbearer

      It’s lucky you don’t.

      Third Pallbearer

      I guess you’re right.

      Fourth Pallbearer

      That’s what my grandfather used to say: you never know what is coming.

      Fifth Pallbearer

      Yes; that’s the way it goes.

      Sixth Pallbearer

      First one, and then somebody else.

      First Pallbearer

      Who it’ll be you can’t say.

      Second Pallbearer

      I always say the same: we’re here to-day——

      Third Pallbearer

      (Cutting in jealousy and humorously.) And to-morrow we ain’t here.

      (A subdued and sinister snicker. It is followed by sudden silence. There is a shuffling of feet in the front room, and whispers. Necks are craned. The pallbearers straighten their backs, hitch their coat collars and pull on their black gloves. The clergyman has arrived. From above comes the sound of weeping.)

II.—FROM THE PROGRAMME OF A CONCERT II.—From The Programme of a Concert

       Table of Contents

      "Ruhm und Ewigkeit" (Fame and Eternity), a symphonic poem in B flat minor, Opus 48, by Johann Sigismund Timotheus Albert Wolfgang Kraus (1872- ).

      Kraus, like his eminent compatriot, Dr. Richard Strauss, has gone to Friedrich Nietzsche, the laureate of the modern German tone-art, for his inspiration in this gigantic work. His text is to be found in Nietzsche’s Ecce Homo, which was not published until after the poet’s death, but the composition really belongs to Also sprach Zarathustra, as a glance will show:

      I

      Wie lange sitzest du schon auf deinem Missgeschick? Gieb Acht! Du brütest mir noch ein Ei, ein Basilisken-Ei, aus deinem langen Jammer aus.

      II

       Was schleicht Zarathustra entlang dem Berge?—

      III

      Misstrauisch, geschwürig, düster, ein langer Lauerer— aber plötzlich, ein Blitz, hell, furchtbar, ein Schlag gen Himmel aus dem Abgrund: —dem Berge selber schüttelt sich das Eingeweide. …

      IV

      Wo Hass und Blitzstrahl Eins ward, ein Fluch— auf den Bergen haust jetzt Zarathustra’s Zorn, eine Wetterwolke schleicht er seines Wegs.

      V

      Verkrieche sich, wer eine letzte Decke hat! In’s Bett mit euch, ihr Zärtlinge! Nun rollen Donner über die Gewölbe, nun zittert, was Gebälk und Mauer ist, nun zucken Blitze und schwefelgelbe Wahrheiten— Zarathustra flucht … !

      For the following faithful and graceful translation the present commentator is indebted to Mr. Louis Untermeyer:

      I

      How long brood you now

       On thy disaster?

       Give heed! You hatch me soon

       An egg,

       From your long lamentation out of.

      II

      Why prowls Zarathustra among the mountains?

      III

      Distrustful, ulcerated, dismal,

       A long waiter—

       But suddenly a flash,

       Brilliant, fearful. A lightning stroke

       Leaps to heaven from the abyss:

       —The mountains shake themselves and

       Their intestines. …

      IV

      As hate and lightning-flash

       Are united, a curse! On the mountains rages now Zarathustra’s wrath, Like a thunder cloud rolls it on its way.

      V

      Crawl away, ye who have a roof remaining!

       To bed with you, ye tenderlings!

       Now thunder rolls over the great arches,

       Now tremble the bastions and battlements,

       Now flashes palpitate and sulphur-yellow truths—

       Zarathustra swears … !

      The composition is scored for three flutes, one piccolo, one bass piccolo, seven oboes, one English horn, three clarinets in D flat, one clarinet in G flat, one corno de bassetto, three bassoons, one contra-bassoon, eleven horns, three trumpets, eight cornets in B, four trombones, two alto trombones, one viol da gamba, one mandolin, two guitars, one banjo, two tubas, glockenspiel, bell, triangle, fife, bass-drum, cymbals, timpani, celesta, four harps, piano, harmonium, pianola, phonograph, and the usual strings.

      At the opening a long B flat is sounded by the cornets, clarinets and bassoons in unison, with soft strokes upon a kettle-drum tuned to G sharp. After eighteen measures of this, singhiozzando, the strings enter pizzicato with a figure based upon one of the scales of the ancient Persians—B flat, C flat, D, E sharp, G and A flat—which starts high among the first violins, and then proceeds downward, through the second violins, violas and cellos, until it is lost in solemn and indistinct mutterings in the double-basses. Then, the atmosphere of doom having been established, and the conductor having found his place in the score, there is heard the motive of brooding, or as the German commentators call it, the Quälerei Motiv:

      The opening chord of the eleventh is sounded by six horns, and the chords of the ninth, which follow, are given to the woodwind. The rapid figure in the second measure is for solo violin, heard softly against the sustained interval of the diminished ninth, but the final G natural is snapped out by the whole orchestra sforzando. There follows a rapid and daring development of the theme, with the flutes and violoncellos leading, first harmonized with chords of the eleventh, then with chords of the thirteenth, and finally with chords of the fifteenth. Meanwhile, the tonality has