The Poetry Corner

Dialogue.

By Friedrich Schiller

A. Hark, neighbor, for one moment stay! Herr Doctor Scalpel, so they say, Has got off safe and sound; At Paris I your uncle found Fast to a horse's crupper bound, Yet Scalpel made a king his prey. B. Oh, dear me, no! A real misnomer! The fact is, he has his diploma; The other one has not. A. Eh? What? Has a diploma? In Suabia may such things be got?