The Green-clad One.
[Weeping.]
Hu-hu! And this we must hear and put up with,
When I and my sister make music and dance.
Peer.
Oho, was it you? Well, a joke at the feast,
You must know, is never unkindly meant.
The Green clad One.
Can you swear it was so?
Peer.
Both the dance and the music
Were utterly charming, the cat claw me else.
The Old Man.
This same human nature's a singular thing;
It sticks to people so strangely long.
If it gets a gash in the fight with us,
It heals up at once, though a scar may remain.
My son-in-law, now, is as pliant as any;
He's willingly thrown off his Christian-man's garb,
He's willingly drunk from our chalice of mead,
He's willingly fastened the tail to his back,—
So willing, in short, did we find him in all things,
I thought to myself the old Adam, for certain,
Had for good and all been kicked out of doors;
But lo! in two shakes he's atop again!
Ay ay, my son, we must treat you, I see,
To cure this pestilent human nature.
Peer.
What will you do?
