Moritz.I was startled as if by lightning.
Melchior. Did you dream?
Moritz. Only for a little while -of legs in light blue tights, that strode over the cathedral - to be correct, I thought they wanted to go over it. I only saw them for an instant.
Melchlor. George Zirschnitz dreamed of his mother.
Moritz. Did he tell you that? . . . I thought I was incurable. I believed I was suffering from an inward hurt. Finally I became calm enough to begin to jot down the recollections of my life. Yes, yes, dear Melchior, the last three weeks have been a Gethsemane for me. . . . Truly they play a remarkable game with us. And we're expected to give thanks for it. I don't remember to have had any longing for this kind of excitement. Why didn't they let me sleep peacefully until all was still again. My dear parents might have had a hundred better children. I came here, I don't know how, and must be responsible myself for not staying away.Haven't you often wondered, Melchior, by what means we were brought into this whirl?
Melchior. Don't you know that yet either, Moritz?
Moritz. How should I know it? I see how the hens lay eggs, and hear that Mama had to carry me under her heart. But is that enough? . . . I have gone through Meyer's " Little Encyclopedia " from A to Z. Words-nothing but words and words! Not a single plain explanation. Oh, this feeling of shame! - What good to me is an encyclopedia that won't answer me concerning the most important question in life?
