From Goethe’s Faust:

Mephistopheles. Perhaps you think I’m trying to betray you;
Well, here’s the astrologer; ask him, I pray you.
Circle on circle, hour and house he knows.
Tell us then what the heavenly aspect shows.
Murmurs.
Two rogues- each to the other known-
Dreamer and Fool- so near the throne-
An ancient ditty- worn and weak-
The Fool will prompt- the Sage will speak-

Astrologer [MEPHISTOPHELES prompting him].
The Sun himself is gold of purest ray,
The herald Mercury serves for love and pay;
Dame Venus has bewitched you all, for she,
In youth and age, looks on you lovingly.
Chaste Luna has her humours whimsical;
The strength of Mars, though striking not, threats all;
And Jupiter is still the fairest star.
Saturn is great, small to our eyes and far;
Him as a metal we don’t venerate,
Little in worth but heavy in his weight.
Ah, when with Sol chaste Luna doth unite,
Silver with gold, the world is glad and bright.
It’s easy then to get all that one seeks:
Parks, palaces, and breasts and rosy cheeks.
All these procures the highly learned man
Who can perform what one of us never can.

Emperor. All that he says I hear twice o’er,
And yet I’m not convinced the more.
Murmurs.
What’s all this smoke- a worn-out joke-
Astrology- or alchemy-
An oft-heard strain- hope stirred in vain-
If he appear- a rogue is here-“