The Breitmann Ballads Part 26

- Barnabae Itinerarium. London, 1716.

VON efenin ash der Breitmann vent from his weinhaus vinkin, So peepy mit Falernian vitch he vas starkly trinkin, He found his hut and goat was gone, - dey'd dook em oud for dryin,- Und in deir blace a priester hut und priester mantel lyin.

Der Breitmann poot de triangel oopon his het, and whistled, Den rop de cloak around his form, and down de Corso mizzled.

De beoples gazed mit staunischment as bey dem he go vheelin, He look ganz oltra tramontane, so twisty vas his reelin.

Next tay in Vaticano, while he shtared at frescoes o'er him, Hans toorned und mit amazemend saw der Pabst vas shoost pefore him!

Down on his knees der Breitmann vent - for so de law it teaches; He proke two holes in de bavement - und likevise shblit his preeches.

"Ego video," says de Bope - "tu es antistes ex Almania, Est una mala gente et corrupta con insania, Un fons hereticorum et malorum tut terrible, Perche non vultis che ego - il Papa - sei infallibile."

"Sit verbo venia," said Hans, "permitte, Sancte Pater, Num verum est ut noster rum gemixta est mit water?

In coelis wo die gotter live, non semper est sereno, Nor de wein ash goot ash decet in each s.p.a.ccio di vino.

"Sunt mihi multi fratres qui si denkunt ut dicisti, Ego kickerem illos, valide, per sanguine de Christi!

In nostro monasterio si habemus nostrum rentum Contra infallibilita non curamus rubrum centrum.[69]

"Viginti nostrorum nuper convenere, In quondam capitulo, simul et dixere; Papa vult Concilium in Romam tenere, Quid debemus super hoc ipsi respondere?"[70]

Et dixit noster presul, "Es ist mir omnis unus, Si Papa est infallibilis, tanquam non sum jejunus, Si nonus est Pius aut Pius est Nonus- Diabolis curat. Non accipio dieser onus.

"Si possum me jacere circ.u.m vitrum Rhenovini[71]

Es ist mir wurst si Papa est originis divini: Deus se fecit olim h.o.m.o, et nahm dis irds'che Leben,[72]

Et nunc Papa noster will sich selbst zum Gott erheben.

"Ita dixit Breitmann et sanctus Pater respondit: Me piace semper intendere tutto cio che l'on dit, Sed tu dic mihi la sua ragione: Tu non h.o.m.o natus es, solus mangiar maccheroni.

"Tonitrus et cespes!" dixit Johanes Breitmann.

"Si veritatem cupies, tunc ego sum der right man; Percute semper ferrum dum caldum est et malleable, Nunc est tuum tempus te facere infallible.

"In nostra America quum Praeses decet abire, Die ultimo fecit omne quod posset imaginire.

Appointet ambasciatores et post-magistros, Consules et alios, per dextros et sinistros.

"Quum Rex Bomba ista Neapolit-a.n.u.s, Compulsus fuit to s.h.i.+n it - ut dixit Africa.n.u.s- Fecit ultimo die ducos et countos, va.n.u.s.

(Inter alios M'Closkey, tuus Hibernicus chanberla.n.u.s.)[73]

"Et quia tu es; ut credo; ultimus Poporum, Facis bene devenire, quod dicitur High c.o.c.kalorum- Sei magnissimus toad in the puddle, ite caput, magnamente; Et ERITIS SICUT DEUS, nemine contradicente!

"Unus error solus, Sancte Pater commisisti.

Quia primus infallible non te proclamavisti, Nam nemo audet dicere: Papa fecit quod non est bonus.

Decet semper jactare super alios probandi onus.

'Conceptio Immaculata, hoc modo fixisti, Et nemo audet dicere unum verb.u.m, de isti: Non vides si infallibilis es, et vultis es exdare,[74]

Non alius sed tu solus hanc debet proclamare."

"Figlio mio," dixit Papa; "Tu es h.o.m.o mirabilis, Tua verba sunt mi dulcior quam ostriche c.u.m Chablis In tutta Roma, de Alemania gente, Non ho visto uno con si grande mente.

"Vero benedetto es - eris benedictus, Tibi mitterem photographiam in quo sum depictus.

Tu comprendes situatio - il punto et gravamen.

Sunt pauci clerici ut te. Nunc dico tibi. - Amen!"

THE FIRST EDITION OF BREITMANN.

SHOWING HOW AND WHY IT WAS THAT IT NEVER APPEARED.

"Uns ist in alten Maeren wunders viel geseit Von Helden lobebaeren, von grosser Arebeit.

Von Festen und Hochzeiten, von Weinen und Klagen, Von kuehnen Recken Streiten, moht Ihr nun Wunder h.o.r.en sagen."

- Der Nibelungen Lied.

DO oos, in anciend shdory, Crate voonders ish peen told Of lapors fool of glory, Of heroes bluff und bold; Of high oldt times a-kitin, Of howlin und of tears, Of kissin and of vightin, All dis we likes to hears.

Dere growed once dimes in Schwaben, Since fifty years pegan, An s.h.i.+ld of decend elders, His name Hans Breitemann.

De gross adfentures dat he had, If you will only look, Ish all bescribed so truly In dis fore-lyin book.

Und allaweil dese lieder Vere goin troo his het, De writer lay von Sonntay a-shleepin in his bett; Vhen, lo! a yellow bigeon Coom to him in a dream, De same dat Mr. Barnum Vonce had in his Museum.

Und dus out-shprach de bigeon: "If you should brint de songs Or oder dings of Breitmann Vhich to dem on-belongs, Dey will tread de road of Sturm and Drang, Die wile es mohte leben,[75]

Und be mis-geborn in pattle- To dis fate ish it ergeben."

Und dus rebly de dreamer: "If on de ice it shlip, Denn led id dake ids shanses, Rip Sam, und let 'er rip!

Dou say'st id vill pe sturmy: Vot sturmy ish, ish crand, Crates heroes ish de beoples In Uncle Samuel's land.

"Du bist ein rechter Gelbschnabel,[76]

O golden bigeon mine, Und I'll fighdt id on dis summer, If id dakes me all dis line.

Full liddle ish de discount, Oopon de Yankee peeps."

"Go to h.e.l.l!" exglaim de bigeon; Foreby vas all mine shleeps.

Dere vent to Sout Carolina A shentleman who d.i.n.ked,[77]

Dat te pallads of der Breitmann Should papered pe und inked.

Und dat he vouldt fixed de brintin Before de writer know: Dis make to many a brinter, Fool many a bitter woe.

All in de down of Charleston, A druckerei he found, Where dey cut de copy into takes Und sorted it around.

Und all vas goot peginnen, For no man heeded mooch.

Dat half de jours vas Mericans Und half of dem vas Dutch.

Und vorser shtill, anoder half Had vorn de Federal plue, Vhile de anti-half in Davis grey Had peen Confeterates true.

Great Himmel! vot a s.h.i.+ndy Vas shdarted in de crowd, Vhen some von read Hans Breitmann, His Barty all aloud!

Und von goot-nadured Yankee, He schwear id vos a shame, To dell soosh lies on Dutchmen, Und make of dem a game.

Boot dis make mad Fritz Luder, Und he schwear dis treat of Hans, Vos shoost so goot a barty Ash any oder man's.

Und dat nodings vas so looscious In all dis eartly shpeer, Ash a quart mug fool of sauer-kraut, Mit a plate of lager-bier.

Dat de Yankee might pe tam mit himself, For he, der Fritz, hafe peen, In many soosh a barty Und all dose dings hafe seen.

All mad oopsproong de Yankee, Mit all his pa.s.sion ripe; Und vired at Fritz mit de shootin-shtick, Vheremit he vas fixin type.

It hit him on de occupit, Und laid him on de floor; For many a long day afder I ween his het was sore.

Dis roused Piet Weiser der Pfaelzer, Who vas quick to act und d.i.n.k; He helt in hand a roller Vheremit he vas rollin ink.

Und he dake his broof py shtrikin Der Merican top of his het, Und make soosh a vine impression, Dat he left de veller for deat.