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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/14591-0.txt b/14591-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..47fb479 --- /dev/null +++ b/14591-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9022 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14591 *** +[Illustration] +[Illustration] +[Illustration] +[Illustration] + + + + +FAUST + + +_by_ + +_Johann Wolfgang von Goethe_ + +WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY + +_Harry Clarke_ + +TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH, IN +THE ORIGINAL METRES, BY + +_Bayard Taylor_ + + +_An Illustrated Edition_ + +THE WORLD PUBLISHING COMPANY + +CLEVELAND, OHIO NEW YORK, N.Y. + + + + +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +CONTENTS + + +PREFACE +AN GOETHE +DEDICATION +PRELUDE AT THE THEATRE +PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN + +SCENE I. NIGHT (_Faust’s Monologue_) + II. BEFORE THE CITY-GATE + III. THE STUDY (_The Exorcism_) + IV. THE STUDY (_The Compact_) + V. AUERBACH’S CELLAR + VI. WITCHES’ KITCHEN + VII. A STREET + VIII. EVENING + IX. PROMENADE + X. THE NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE + XI. STREET + XII. GARDEN + XIII. A GARDEN-ARBOR + XIV. FOREST AND CAVERN + XV. MARGARET’S ROOM + XVI. MARTHA’S GARDEN + XVII. AT THE FOUNTAIN + XVIII. DONJON (_Margaret’s Prayer_) + XIX. NIGHT (_Valentine’s Death_) + XX. CATHEDRAL + XXI. WALPURGIS-NIGHT + XXII. OBERON AND TITANIA’S GOLDEN WEDDING + XXIII. DREARY DAY + XXIV. NIGHT + XXV. DUNGEON +[Illustration] + + + + +FAUST + + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration: Preface] + +It is twenty years since I first determined to attempt the translation +of _Faust_, in the original metres. At that time, although more than a +score of English translations of the First Part, and three or four of +the Second Part, were in existence, the experiment had not yet been +made. The prose version of Hayward seemed to have been accepted as the +standard, in default of anything more satisfactory: the English critics, +generally sustaining the translator in his views concerning the +secondary importance of form in Poetry, practically discouraged any +further attempt; and no one, familiar with rhythmical expression through +the needs of his own nature, had devoted the necessary love and patience +to an adequate reproduction of the great work of Goethe’s life. + +Mr. Brooks was the first to undertake the task, and the publication of +his translation of the First Part (in 1856) induced me, for a time, to +give up my own design. No previous English version exhibited such +abnegation of the translator’s own tastes and habits of thought, such +reverent desire to present the original in its purest form. The care and +conscience with which the work had been performed were so apparent, that +I now state with reluctance what then seemed to me to be its only +deficiencies,—a lack of the lyrical fire and fluency of the original in +some passages, and an occasional lowering of the tone through the use of +words which are literal, but not equivalent. The plan of translation +adopted by Mr. Brooks was so entirely my own, that when further +residence in Germany and a more careful study of both parts of _Faust_ +had satisfied me that the field was still open,—that the means +furnished by the poetical affinity of the two languages had not yet been +exhausted,—nothing remained for me but to follow him in all essential +particulars. His example confirmed me in the belief that there were few +difficulties in the way of a nearly literal yet thoroughly rhythmical +version of _Faust_, which might not be overcome by loving labor. A +comparison of seventeen English translations, in the arbitrary metres +adopted by the translators, sufficiently showed the danger of allowing +license in this respect: the white light of Goethe’s thought was thereby +passed through the tinted glass of other minds, and assumed the coloring +of each. Moreover, the plea of selecting different metres in the hope of +producing a similar effect is unreasonable, where the identical metres +are possible. + +The value of form, in a poetical work, is the first question to be +considered. No poet ever understood this question more thoroughly than +Goethe himself, or expressed a more positive opinion in regard to it. +The alternative modes of translation which he presents (reported by +Riemer, quoted by Mrs. Austin, in her “Characteristics of Goethe,” and +accepted by Mr. Hayward),[A] are quite independent of his views +concerning the value of form, which we find given elsewhere, in the +clearest and most emphatic manner.[B] Poetry is not simply a fashion of +expression: it is the form of expression absolutely required by a +certain class of ideas. Poetry, indeed, may be distinguished from Prose +by the single circumstance, that it is the utterance of whatever in man +cannot be perfectly uttered in any other than a rhythmical form: it is +useless to say that the naked meaning is independent of the form: on the +contrary, the form contributes essentially to the fullness of the +meaning. In Poetry which endures through its own inherent vitality, +there is no forced union of these two elements. They are as intimately +blended, and with the same mysterious beauty, as the sexes in the +ancient Hermaphroditus. To attempt to represent Poetry in Prose, is very +much like attempting to translate music into speech.[C] + +[A] “‘There are two maxims of translation,’ says he: ‘the one requires +that the author, of a foreign nation, be brought to us in such a manner +that we may regard him as our own; the other, on the contrary, demands +of us that we transport ourselves over to him, and adopt his situation, +his mode of speaking, and his peculiarities. The advantages of both are +sufficiently known to all instructed persons, from masterly examples.’” +Is it necessary, however, that there should always be this alternative? +Where the languages are kindred, and equally capable of all varieties of +metrical expression, may not both these “maxims” be observed in the same +translation? Goethe, it is true, was of the opinion that _Faust_ ought +to be given, in French, in the manner of Clement Marot; but this was +undoubtedly because he felt the inadequacy of modern French to express +the naive, simple realism of many passages. The same objection does not +apply to English. There are a few archaic expressions in _Faust_, but no +more than are still allowed—nay, frequently encouraged—in the English +of our day. + +[B] “You are right,” said Goethe; “there are great and mysterious +agencies included in the various forms of Poetry. If the substance of my +‘Roman Elegies’ were to be expressed in the tone and measure of Byron’s +‘Don Juan,’ it would really have an atrocious effect.”—_Eckermann_. + +“The rhythm,” said Goethe, “is an unconscious result of the poetic mood. +If one should stop to consider it mechanically, when about to write a +poem, one would become bewildered and accomplish nothing of real +poetical value.”—_Ibid_. + +“_All that is poetic in character should be rythmically treated_! Such +is my conviction; and if even a sort of poetic prose should be gradually +introduced, it would only show that the distinction between prose and +poetry had been completely lost sight of.”—_Goethe to Schiller_, 1797. + +Tycho Mommsen, in his excellent essay, _Die Kunst des Deutschen +Uebersetzers aus neueren Sprachen_, goes so far as to say: “The metrical +or rhymed modelling of a poetical work is so essentially the germ of its +being, that, rather than by giving it up, we might hope to construct a +similar work of art before the eyes of our countrymen, by giving up or +changing the substance. The immeasurable result which has followed works +wherein the form has been retained—such as the Homer of Voss, and the +Shakespeare of Tieck and Schlegel—is an incontrovertible evidence of +the vitality of the endeavor.” + +[C] “Goethe’s poems exercise a great sway over me, not only by their +meaning, but also by their rhythm. It is a language which stimulates me +to composition.”—_Beethoven_. + +The various theories of translation from the Greek and Latin poets have +been admirably stated by Dryden in his Preface to the “Translations from +Ovid’s Epistles,” and I do not wish to continue the endless +discussion,—especially as our literature needs examples, not opinions. +A recent expression, however, carries with it so much authority, that I +feel bound to present some considerations which the accomplished scholar +seems to have overlooked. Mr. Lewes[D] justly says: “The effect of +poetry is a compound of music and suggestion; this music and this +suggestion are intermingled in words, which to alter is to alter the +effect. For words in poetry are not, as in prose, simple representatives +of objects and ideas: they are parts of an organic whole,—they are +tones in the harmony.” He thereupon illustrates the effect of +translation by changing certain well-known English stanzas into others, +equivalent in meaning, but lacking their felicity of words, their grace +and melody. I cannot accept this illustration as valid, because Mr. +Lewes purposely omits the very quality which an honest translator should +exhaust his skill in endeavoring to reproduce. He turns away from the +_one best_ word or phrase in the English lines he quotes, whereas the +translator seeks precisely that one best word or phrase (having _all_ +the resources of his language at command), to represent what is said in +_another_ language. More than this, his task is not simply mechanical: +he must feel, and be guided by, a secondary inspiration. Surrendering +himself to the full possession of the spirit which shall speak through +him, he receives, also, a portion of the same creative power. Mr. Lewes +reaches this conclusion: “If, therefore, we reflect what a poem _Faust_ +is, and that it contains almost every variety of style and metre, it +will be tolerably evident that no one unacquainted with the original can +form an adequate idea of it from translation,”[E] which is certainly +correct of any translation wherein something of the rhythmical variety +and beauty of the original is not retained. That very much of the +rhythmical character may be retained in English, was long ago shown by +Mr. Carlyle,[F] in the passages which he translated, both literally and +rhythmically, from the _Helena_ (Part Second). In fact, we have so many +instances of the possibility of reciprocally transferring the finest +qualities of English and German poetry, that there is no sufficient +excuse for an unmetrical translation of _Faust_. I refer especially to +such subtile and melodious lyrics as “The Castle by the Sea,” of Uhland, +and the “Silent Land” of Salis, translated by Mr. Longfellow; Goethe’s +“Minstrel” and “Coptic Song,” by Dr. Hedge; Heine’s “Two Grenadiers,” by +Dr. Furness and many of Heine’s songs by Mr. Leland; and also to the +German translations of English lyrics, by Freiligrath and Strodtmann.[G] + + +[D] Life of Goethe (Book VI.). + +[E] Mr. Lewes gives the following advice: “The English reader would +perhaps best succeed who should first read Dr. Anster’s brilliant +paraphrase, and then carefully go through Hayward’s prose translation.” +This is singularly at variance with the view he has just expressed. Dr. +Anster’s version is an almost incredible dilution of the original, +written in _other_ metres; while Hayward’s entirely omits the element of +poetry. + +[F] Foreign Review, 1828. + +[G] When Freiligrath can thus give us Walter Scott:— + +“Kommt, wie der Wind kommt, Wenn Wälder erzittern Kommt, wie die +Brandung Wenn Flotten zersplittern! Schnell heran, schnell herab, +Schneller kommt Al’e!—Häuptling und Bub’ und Knapp, Herr und Vasalle!” + +or Strodtmann thus reproduce Tennyson:— + +“Es fällt der Strahl auf Burg und Thal, Und schneeige Gipfel, reich an +Sagen; Viel’ Lichter wehn auf blauen Seen, Bergab die Wasserstürze +jagen! Blas, Hüfthorn, blas, in Wiederhall erschallend: Blas, +Horn—antwortet, Echos, hallend, hallend, hallend!” + +—it must be a dull ear which would be satisfied with the omission of +rhythm and rhyme. + +I have a more serious objection, however, to urge against Mr. Hayward’s +prose translation. Where all the restraints of verse are flung aside, we +should expect, at least, as accurate a reproduction of the sense, +spirit, and tone of the original, as the genius of our language will +permit. So far from having given us such a reproduction, Mr. Hayward not +only occasionally mistakes the exact meaning of the German text,[H] but, +wherever two phrases may be used to express the meaning with equal +fidelity, he very frequently selects that which has the less grace, +strength, or beauty.[I] + +[H] On his second page, the line _Mein Lied ertönt der unbekannten +Menge_, “My song sounds to the unknown multitude,” is translated: “My +_sorrow_ voices itself to the strange throng.” Other English +translators, I notice, have followed Mr. Hayward in mistaking _Lied_ for +_Leid_. + +I: + I take but one out of numerous instances, for the sake of +illustration. The close of the Soldier’s Song (Part I. Scene II.) is:— + + “Kühn is das Mühen, + Herrlich der Lohn! + Und die Soldaten + Ziehen davon.” + +Literally: + + Bold is the endeavor, + Splendid the pay! + And the soldiers + March away. + +This Mr. Hayward translates:— + + Bold the adventure, + Noble the reward— + And the soldiers + Are off. + +For there are few things which may not be said, in English, in a twofold +manner,—one poetic, and the other prosaic. In German, equally, a word +which in ordinary use has a bare prosaic character may receive a fairer +and finer quality from its place in verse. The prose translator should +certainly be able to feel the manifestation of this law in both +languages, and should so choose his words as to meet their reciprocal +requirements. A man, however, who is not keenly sensible to the power +and beauty and value of rhythm, is likely to overlook these delicate yet +most necessary distinctions. The author’s thought is stripped of a last +grace in passing through his mind, and frequently presents very much the +same resemblance to the original as an unhewn shaft to the fluted +column. Mr. Hayward unconsciously illustrates his lack of a refined +appreciation of verse, “in giving,” as he says, “_a sort of rhythmical +arrangement_ to the lyrical parts,” his object being “to convey some +notion of the variety of versification which forms one great charm of +the poem.” A literal translation is always possible in the unrhymed +passages; but even here Mr. Hayward’s ear did not dictate to him the +necessity of preserving the original rhythm. + +While, therefore, I heartily recognize his lofty appreciation of +_Faust_,—while I honor him for the patient and conscientious labor he +has bestowed upon his translation,—I cannot but feel that he has +himself illustrated the unsoundness of his argument. Nevertheless, the +circumstance that his prose translation of _Faust_ has received so much +acceptance proves those qualities of the original work which cannot be +destroyed by a test so violent. From the cold bare outline thus +produced, the reader unacquainted with the German language would +scarcely guess what glow of color, what richness of changeful life, what +fluent grace and energy of movement have been lost in the process. We +must, of course, gratefully receive such an outline, where a nearer +approach to the form of the original is impossible, but, until the +latter has been demonstrated, we are wrong to remain content with the +cheaper substitute. + +It seems to me that in all discussions upon this subject the capacities +of the English language have received but scanty justice. The +intellectual tendencies of our race have always been somewhat +conservative, and its standards of literary taste or belief, once set +up, are not varied without a struggle. The English ear is suspicious of +new metres and unaccustomed forms of expression: there are critical +detectives on the track of every author, and a violation of the accepted +canons is followed by a summons to judgment. Thus the tendency is to +contract rather than to expand the acknowledged excellences of the +language.[J] + +[J] I cannot resist the temptation of quoting the following passage from +Jacob Grimm: “No one of all the modern languages has acquired a greater +force and strength than the English, through the derangement and +relinquishment of its ancient laws of sound. The unteachable +(nevertheless _learnable_) profusion of its middle-tones has conferred +upon it an intrinsic power of expression, such as no other human tongue +ever possessed. Its entire, thoroughly intellectual and wonderfully +successful foundation and perfected development issued from a marvelous +union of the two noblest tongues of Europe, the Germanic and the +Romanic. Their mutual relation in the English language is well known, +since the former furnished chiefly the material basis, while the latter +added the intellectual conceptions. The English language, by and through +which the greatest and most eminent poet of modern times—as contrasted +with ancient classical poetry—(of course I can refer only to +Shakespeare) was begotten and nourished, has a just claim to be called a +language of the world; and it appears to be destined, like the English +race, to a higher and broader sway in all quarters of the earth. For in +richness, in compact adjustment of parts, and in pure intelligence, none +of the living languages can be compared with it,—not even our German, +which is divided even as we are divided, and which must cast off many +imperfections before it can boldly enter on its career.”—_Ueber den +Ursprung der Sprache_. + +The difficulties in the way of a nearly literal translation of _Faust_ +in the original metres have been exaggerated, because certain affinities +between the two languages have not been properly considered. With all +the splendor of versification in the work, it contains but few metres of +which the English tongue is not equally capable. Hood has familiarized +us with dactylic (triple) rhymes, and they are remarkably abundant and +skillful in Mr. Lowell’s “Fable for the Critics”: even the unrhymed +iambic hexameter of the _Helena_ occurs now and then in Milton’s _Samson +Agonistes_. It is true that the metrical foot into which the German +language most naturally falls is the _trochaic_, while in English it is +the _iambic_: it is true that German is rich, involved, and tolerant of +new combinations, while English is simple, direct, and rather shy of +compounds; but precisely these differences are so modified in the German +of _Faust_ that there is a mutual approach of the two languages. In +_Faust_, the iambic measure predominates; the style is compact; the many +licenses which the author allows himself are all directed towards a +shorter mode of construction. On the other hand, English metre compels +the use of inversions, admits many verbal liberties prohibited to prose, +and so inclines towards various flexible features of its sister-tongue +that many lines of _Faust_ may be repeated in English without the +slightest change of meaning, measure, or rhyme. There are words, it is +true, with so delicate a bloom upon them that it can in no wise be +preserved; but even such words will always lose less when they carry +with them their rhythmical atmosphere. The flow of Goethe’s verse is +sometimes so similar to that of the corresponding English metre, that +not only its harmonies and caesural pauses, but even its punctuation, +may be easily retained. + +I am satisfied that the difference between a translation of _Faust_ in +prose or metre is chiefly one of labor,—and of that labor which is +successful in proportion as it is joyously performed. My own task has +been cheered by the discovery, that the more closely I reproduced the +language of the original, the more of its rhythmical character was +transferred at the same time. If, now and then, there was an inevitable +alternative of meaning or music, I gave the preference to the former. By +the term “original metres” I do not mean a rigid, unyielding adherence +to every foot, line, and rhyme of the German original, although this has +very nearly been accomplished. Since the greater part of the work is +written in an irregular measure, the lines varying from three to six +feet, and the rhymes arranged according to the author’s will, I do not +consider that an occasional change in the number of feet, or order of +rhyme, is any violation of the metrical plan. The single slight liberty +I have taken with the lyrical passages is in Margaret’s song,—“The King +of Thule,”—in which, by omitting the alternate feminine rhymes, yet +retaining the metre, I was enabled to make the translation strictly +literal. If, in two or three instances, I have left a line unrhymed, I +have balanced the omission by giving rhymes to other lines which stand +unrhymed in the original text. For the same reason, I make no apology +for the imperfect rhymes, which are frequently a translation as well as +a necessity. With all its supreme qualities, _Faust_ is far from being a +technically perfect work.[K] + +[K] “At present, everything runs in technical grooves, and the critical +gentlemen begin to wrangle whether in a rhyme an _s_ should correspond +with an _s_ and not with _sz_. If I were young and reckless enough, I +would purposely offend all such technical caprices: I would use +alliteration, assonance, false rhyme, just according to my own will or +convenience—but, at the same time, I would attend to the main thing, +and endeavor to say so many good things that every one would be +attracted to read and remember them.”—_Goethe_, in 1831. + +The feminine and dactylic rhymes, which have been for the most part +omitted by all metrical translators except Mr. Brooks, are +indispensable. The characteristic tone of many passages would be nearly +lost, without them. They give spirit and grace to the dialogue, point to +the aphoristic portions (especially in the Second Part), and an +ever-changing music to the lyrical passages. The English language, +though not so rich as the German in such rhymes, is less deficient than +is generally supposed. The difficulty to be overcome is one of +construction rather than of the vocabulary. The present participle can +only be used to a limited extent, on account of its weak termination, +and the want of an accusative form to the noun also restricts the +arrangement of words in English verse. I cannot hope to have been always +successful; but I have at least labored long and patiently, bearing +constantly in mind not only the meaning of the original and the +mechanical structure of the lines, but also that subtile and haunting +music which seems to govern rhythm instead of being governed by it. + +B.T. + +[Illustration] + + + + +AN GOETHE + + +_Erhabener Geist, im Geisterreich verloren! +Wo immer Deine lichte Wohnung sey, +Zum höh’ren Schaffen bist Du neugeboren, +Und singest dort die voll’re Litanei. +Von jenem Streben das Du auserkoren, +Vom reinsten Aether, drin Du athmest frei, +O neige Dich zu gnädigem Erwiedern +Des letzten Wiederhalls von Deinen Liedern! + + +II + +Den alten Musen die bestäubten Kronen +Nahmst Du, zu neuem Glanz, mit kühner Hand: +Du löst die Räthsel ältester Aeonen +Durch jüngeren Glauben, helleren Verstand, +Und machst, wo rege Menschengeister wohnen, +Die ganze Erde Dir zum Vaterland; +Und Deine Jünger sehn in Dir, verwundert, +Verkörpert schon das werdende Jahrhundert. + + +III + +Was Du gesungen, Aller Lust und Klagen, +Des Lebens Wiedersprüche, neu vermählt,— +Die Harfe tausendstimmig frisch geschlagen, +Die Shakspeare einst, die einst Homer gewählt,— +Darf ich in fremde Klänge übertragen +Das Alles, wo so Mancher schon gefehlt? +Lass Deinen Geist in meiner Stimme klingen, +Und was Du sangst, lass mich es Dir nachsingen!_ + +B.T. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration: =Dedication=] + +Again ye come, ye hovering Forms! I find ye, +As early to my clouded sight ye shone! +Shall I attempt, this once, to seize and bind ye? +Still o’er my heart is that illusion thrown? +Ye crowd more near! Then, be the reign assigned ye, +And sway me from your misty, shadowy zone! +My bosom thrills, with youthful passion shaken, +From magic airs that round your march awaken. + +Of joyous days ye bring the blissful vision; +The dear, familiar phantoms rise again, +And, like an old and half-extinct tradition, +First Love returns, with Friendship in his train. +Renewed is Pain: with mournful repetition +Life tracks his devious, labyrinthine chain, +And names the Good, whose cheating fortune tore them +From happy hours, and left me to deplore them. + +They hear no longer these succeeding measures, +The souls, to whom my earliest songs I sang: + +Dispersed the friendly troop, with all its pleasures, +And still, alas! the echoes first that rang! +I bring the unknown multitude my treasures; +Their very plaudits give my heart a pang, +And those beside, whose joy my Song so flattered, +If still they live, wide through the world are scattered. + +And grasps me now a long-unwonted yearning +For that serene and solemn Spirit-Land: +My song, to faint Aeolian murmurs turning, +Sways like a harp-string by the breezes fanned. +I thrill and tremble; tear on tear is burning, +And the stern heart is tenderly unmanned. +What I possess, I see far distant lying, +And what I lost, grows real and undying. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration: =Prelude at the Theatre=] + + +MANAGER DRAMATIC POET MERRY-ANDREW + +MANAGER + +You two, who oft a helping hand +Have lent, in need and tribulation. +Come, let me know your expectation +Of this, our enterprise, in German land! +I wish the crowd to feel itself well treated, +Especially since it lives and lets me live; +The posts are set, the booth of boards completed. +And each awaits the banquet I shall give. +Already there, with curious eyebrows raised, +They sit sedate, and hope to be amazed. +I know how one the People’s taste may flatter, +Yet here a huge embarrassment I feel: +What they’re accustomed to, is no great matter, +But then, alas! they’ve read an awful deal. +How shall we plan, that all be fresh and new,— +Important matter, yet attractive too? +For ’tis my pleasure-to behold them surging, +When to our booth the current sets apace, +And with tremendous, oft-repeated urging, +Squeeze onward through the narrow gate of grace: +By daylight even, they push and cram in +To reach the seller’s box, a fighting host, +And as for bread, around a baker’s door, in famine, +To get a ticket break their necks almost. +This miracle alone can work the Poet +On men so various: now, my friend, pray show it. + + +POET + + +Speak not to me of yonder motley masses, +Whom but to see, puts out the fire of Song! +Hide from my view the surging crowd that passes, +And in its whirlpool forces us along! +No, lead me where some heavenly silence glasses +The purer joys that round the Poet throng,— +Where Love and Friendship still divinely fashion +The bonds that bless, the wreaths that crown his passion! +Ah, every utterance from the depths of feeling +The timid lips have stammeringly expressed,— +Now failing, now, perchance, success revealing,— +Gulps the wild Moment in its greedy breast; +Or oft, reluctant years its warrant sealing, +Its perfect stature stands at last confessed! +What dazzles, for the Moment spends its spirit: +What’s genuine, shall Posterity inherit. + + +MERRY-ANDREW + + +Posterity! Don’t name the word to me! +If _I_ should choose to preach Posterity, +Where would you get contemporary fun? +That men _will_ have it, there’s no blinking: +A fine young fellow’s presence, to my thinking, +Is something worth, to every one. +Who genially his nature can outpour, +Takes from the People’s moods no irritation; +The wider circle he acquires, the more +Securely works his inspiration. +Then pluck up heart, and give us sterling coin! +Let Fancy be with her attendants fitted,— +Sense, Reason, Sentiment, and Passion join,— +But have a care, lest Folly be omitted! + +MANAGER + +Chiefly, enough of incident prepare! +They come to look, and they prefer to stare. +Reel off a host of threads before their faces, +So that they gape in stupid wonder: then +By sheer diffuseness you have won their graces, +And are, at once, most popular of men. +Only by mass you touch the mass; for any +Will finally, himself, his bit select: +Who offers much, brings something unto many, +And each goes home content with the effect, +If you’ve a piece, why, just in pieces give it: +A hash, a stew, will bring success, believe it! +’Tis easily displayed, and easy to invent. +What use, a Whole compactly to present? +Your hearers pick and pluck, as soon as they receive it! + +POET + +You do not feel, how such a trade debases; +How ill it suits the Artist, proud and true! +The botching work each fine pretender traces +Is, I perceive, a principle with you. + +MANAGER + +Such a reproach not in the least offends; +A man who some result intends +Must use the tools that best are fitting. +Reflect, soft wood is given to you for splitting, +And then, observe for whom you write! +If one comes bored, exhausted quite, +Another, satiate, leaves the banquet’s tapers, +And, worst of all, full many a wight +Is fresh from reading of the daily papers. +Idly to us they come, as to a masquerade, +Mere curiosity their spirits warming: +The ladies with themselves, and with their finery, aid, +Without a salary their parts performing. +What dreams are yours in high poetic places? +You’re pleased, forsooth, full houses to behold? +Draw near, and view your patrons’ faces! +The half are coarse, the half are cold. +One, when the play is out, goes home to cards; +A wild night on a wench’s breast another chooses: +Why should you rack, poor, foolish bards, +For ends like these, the gracious Muses? +I tell you, give but more—more, ever more, they ask: +Thus shall you hit the mark of gain and glory. +Seek to confound your auditory! +To satisfy them is a task.— +What ails you now? Is’t suffering, or pleasure? + +POET + +Go, find yourself a more obedient slave! +What! shall the Poet that which Nature gave, +The highest right, supreme Humanity, +Forfeit so wantonly, to swell your treasure? +Whence o’er the heart his empire free? +The elements of Life how conquers he? +Is’t not his heart’s accord, urged outward far and dim, +To wind the world in unison with him? +When on the spindle, spun to endless distance, +By Nature’s listless hand the thread is twirled, +And the discordant tones of all existence +In sullen jangle are together hurled, +Who, then, the changeless orders of creation +Divides, and kindles into rhythmic dance? +Who brings the One to join the general ordination, +Where it may throb in grandest consonance? +Who bids the storm to passion stir the bosom? +In brooding souls the sunset burn above? +Who scatters every fairest April blossom +Along the shining path of Love? +Who braids the noteless leaves to crowns, requiting +Desert with fame, in Action’s every field? +Who makes Olympus sure, the Gods uniting? +The might of Man, as in the Bard revealed. + +MERRY-ANDREW + +So, these fine forces, in conjunction, +Propel the high poetic function, +As in a love-adventure they might play! +You meet by accident; you feel, you stay, +And by degrees your heart is tangled; +Bliss grows apace, and then its course is jangled; +You’re ravished quite, then comes a touch of woe, +And there’s a neat romance, completed ere you know! +Let us, then, such a drama give! +Grasp the exhaustless life that all men live! +Each shares therein, though few may comprehend: +Where’er you touch, there’s interest without end. +In motley pictures little light, +Much error, and of truth a glimmering mite, +Thus the best beverage is supplied, +Whence all the world is cheered and edified. +Then, at your play, behold the fairest flower +Of youth collect, to hear the revelation! +Each tender soul, with sentimental power, +Sucks melancholy food from your creation; +And now in this, now that, the leaven works. +For each beholds what in his bosom lurks. +They still are moved at once to weeping or to laughter, +Still wonder at your flights, enjoy the show they see: +A mind, once formed, is never suited after; +One yet in growth will ever grateful be. + +POET + +Then give me back that time of pleasures, +While yet in joyous growth I sang,— +When, like a fount, the crowding measures +Uninterrupted gushed and sprang! +Then bright mist veiled the world before me, +In opening buds a marvel woke, +As I the thousand blossoms broke, +Which every valley richly bore me! +I nothing had, and yet enough for youth— +Joy in Illusion, ardent thirst for Truth. +Give, unrestrained, the old emotion, +The bliss that touched the verge of pain, +The strength of Hate, Love’s deep devotion,— +O, give me back my youth again! + +MERRY ANDREW + +Youth, good my friend, you certainly require +When foes in combat sorely press you; +When lovely maids, in fond desire, +Hang on your bosom and caress you; +When from the hard-won goal the wreath +Beckons afar, the race awaiting; +When, after dancing out your breath, +You pass the night in dissipating:— +But that familiar harp with soul +To play,—with grace and bold expression, +And towards a self-erected goal +To walk with many a sweet digression,— +This, aged Sirs, belongs to you, +And we no less revere you for that reason: +Age childish makes, they say, but ’tis not true; +We’re only genuine children still, in Age’s season! + + +MANAGER + +The words you’ve bandied are sufficient; +’Tis deeds that I prefer to see: +In compliments you’re both proficient, +But might, the while, more useful be. +What need to talk of Inspiration? +’Tis no companion of Delay. +If Poetry be your vocation, +Let Poetry your will obey! +Full well you know what here is wanting; +The crowd for strongest drink is panting, +And such, forthwith, I’d have you brew. +What’s left undone to-day, To-morrow will not do. +Waste not a day in vain digression: +With resolute, courageous trust +Seize every possible impression, +And make it firmly your possession; +You’ll then work on, because you must. +Upon our German stage, you know it, +Each tries his hand at what he will; +So, take of traps and scenes your fill, +And all you find, be sure to show it! +Use both the great and lesser heavenly light,— +Squander the stars in any number, +Beasts, birds, trees, rocks, and all such lumber, +Fire, water, darkness, Day and Night! +Thus, in our booth’s contracted sphere, +The circle of Creation will appear, +And move, as we deliberately impel, +From Heaven, across the World, to Hell! +[Illustration] +[Illustration] + +PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN + +THE LORD THE HEAVENLY HOST _Afterwards_ +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_The_ THREE ARCHANGELS _come forward_.) + + +RAPHAEL + +The sun-orb sings, in emulation, +’Mid brother-spheres, his ancient round: +His path predestined through Creation +He ends with step of thunder-sound. +The angels from his visage splendid +Draw power, whose measure none can say; +The lofty works, uncomprehended, +Are bright as on the earliest day. + + +GABRIEL + +And swift, and swift beyond conceiving, +The splendor of the world goes round, +Day’s Eden-brightness still relieving +The awful Night’s intense profound: +The ocean-tides in foam are breaking, +Against the rocks’ deep bases hurled, +And both, the spheric race partaking, +Eternal, swift, are onward whirled! + + +MICHAEL + +And rival storms abroad are surging +From sea to land, from land to sea. +A chain of deepest action forging +Round all, in wrathful energy. +There flames a desolation, blazing +Before the Thunder’s crashing way: +Yet, Lord, Thy messengers are praising +The gentle movement of Thy Day. + + +THE THREE + +Though still by them uncomprehended, +From these the angels draw their power, +And all Thy works, sublime and splendid, +Are bright as in Creation’s hour. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Since Thou, O Lord, deign’st to approach again +And ask us how we do, in manner kindest, +And heretofore to meet myself wert fain, +Among Thy menials, now, my face Thou findest. +Pardon, this troop I cannot follow after +With lofty speech, though by them scorned and spurned: +My pathos certainly would move Thy laughter, +If Thou hadst not all merriment unlearned. +Of suns and worlds I’ve nothing to be quoted; +How men torment themselves, is all I’ve noted. +The little god o’ the world sticks to the same old way, +And is as whimsical as on Creation’s day. +Life somewhat better might content him, +But for the gleam of heavenly light which Thou hast lent him: +He calls it Reason—thence his power’s increased, +To be far beastlier than any beast. +Saving Thy Gracious Presence, he to me +A long-legged grasshopper appears to be, +That springing flies, and flying springs, +And in the grass the same old ditty sings. +Would he still lay among the grass he grows in! +Each bit of dung he seeks, to stick his nose in. + + +THE LORD + +Hast thou, then, nothing more to mention? +Com’st ever, thus, with ill intention? +Find’st nothing right on earth, eternally? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No, Lord! I find things, there, still bad as they can be. +Man’s misery even to pity moves my nature; +I’ve scarce the heart to plague the wretched creature. + + +THE LORD + +Know’st Faust? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The Doctor Faust? + + +THE LORD + +My servant, he! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Forsooth! He serves you after strange devices: +No earthly meat or drink the fool suffices: +His spirit’s ferment far aspireth; +Half conscious of his frenzied, crazed unrest, +The fairest stars from Heaven he requireth, +From Earth the highest raptures and the best, +And all the Near and Far that he desireth +Fails to subdue the tumult of his breast. + + +THE LORD + +Though still confused his service unto Me, +I soon shall lead him to a clearer morning. +Sees not the gardener, even while buds his tree, +Both flower and fruit the future years adorning? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What will you bet? There’s still a chance to gain him, +If unto me full leave you give, +Gently upon _my_ road to train him! + + +THE LORD + +As long as he on earth shall live, +So long I make no prohibition. +While Man’s desires and aspirations stir, +He cannot choose but err. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My thanks! I find the dead no acquisition, +And never cared to have them in my keeping. +I much prefer the cheeks where ruddy blood is leaping, +And when a corpse approaches, close my house: +It goes with me, as with the cat the mouse. + + +THE LORD + +Enough! What thou hast asked is granted. +Turn off this spirit from his fountain-head; +To trap him, let thy snares be planted, +And him, with thee, be downward led; +Then stand abashed, when thou art forced to say: +A good man, through obscurest aspiration, +Has still an instinct of the one true way. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Agreed! But ’tis a short probation. +About my bet I feel no trepidation. +If I fulfill my expectation, +You’ll let me triumph with a swelling breast: +Dust shall he eat, and with a zest, +As did a certain snake, my near relation. + + +THE LORD + +Therein thou’rt free, according to thy merits; +The like of thee have never moved My hate. +Of all the bold, denying Spirits, +The waggish knave least trouble doth create. +Man’s active nature, flagging, seeks too soon the level; +Unqualified repose he learns to crave; +Whence, willingly, the comrade him I gave, +Who works, excites, and must create, as Devil. +But ye, God’s sons in love and duty, +Enjoy the rich, the ever-living Beauty! +Creative Power, that works eternal schemes, +Clasp you in bonds of love, relaxing never, +And what in wavering apparition gleams +Fix in its place with thoughts that stand forever! + + +(_Heaven closes: the_ ARCHANGELS _separate_.) + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_solus_) + +I like, at times, to hear The Ancient’s word, +And have a care to be most civil: +It’s really kind of such a noble Lord +So humanly to gossip with the Devil! +[Illustration] +[Illustration] + + + + +FIRST PART OF THE TRAGEDY + + +I + +NIGHT + +(_A lofty-arched, narrow, Gothic chamber_. FAUST, _in a chair at his +desk, restless_.) + + +FAUST + +I’ve studied now Philosophy +And Jurisprudence, Medicine,— +And even, alas! Theology,— +From end to end, with labor keen; +And here, poor fool! with all my lore +I stand, no wiser than before: +I’m Magister—yea, Doctor—hight, +And straight or cross-wise, wrong or right, +These ten years long, with many woes, +I’ve led my scholars by the nose,— +And see, that nothing can be known! +_That_ knowledge cuts me to the bone. +I’m cleverer, true, than those fops of teachers, +Doctors and Magisters, Scribes and Preachers; +Neither scruples nor doubts come now to smite me, +Nor Hell nor Devil can longer affright me. + +For this, all pleasure am I foregoing; +I do not pretend to aught worth knowing, +I do not pretend I could be a teacher +To help or convert a fellow-creature. +Then, too, I’ve neither lands nor gold, +Nor the world’s least pomp or honor hold— +No dog would endure such a curst existence! +Wherefore, from Magic I seek assistance, +That many a secret perchance I reach +Through spirit-power and spirit-speech, +And thus the bitter task forego +Of saying the things I do not know,— +That I may detect the inmost force +Which binds the world, and guides its course; +Its germs, productive powers explore, +And rummage in empty words no more! + +O full and splendid Moon, whom I +Have, from this desk, seen climb the sky +So many a midnight,—would thy glow +For the last time beheld my woe! +Ever thine eye, most mournful friend, +O’er books and papers saw me bend; +But would that I, on mountains grand, +Amid thy blessed light could stand, +With spirits through mountain-caverns hover, +Float in thy twilight the meadows over, +And, freed from the fumes of lore that swathe me, +To health in thy dewy fountains bathe me! + +Ah, me! this dungeon still I see. +This drear, accursed masonry, +Where even the welcome daylight strains +But duskly through the painted panes. +Hemmed in by many a toppling heap +Of books worm-eaten, gray with dust, +Which to the vaulted ceiling creep, +Against the smoky paper thrust,— +With glasses, boxes, round me stacked, +And instruments together hurled, +Ancestral lumber, stuffed and packed— +Such is my world: and what a world! + +And do I ask, wherefore my heart +Falters, oppressed with unknown needs? +Why some inexplicable smart +All movement of my life impedes? +Alas! in living Nature’s stead, +Where God His human creature set, +In smoke and mould the fleshless dead +And bones of beasts surround me yet! + +Fly! Up, and seek the broad, free land! +And this one Book of Mystery +From Nostradamus’ very hand, +Is’t not sufficient company? +When I the starry courses know, +And Nature’s wise instruction seek, +With light of power my soul shall glow, +As when to spirits spirits speak. +Tis vain, this empty brooding here, +Though guessed the holy symbols be: +Ye, Spirits, come—ye hover near— +Oh, if you hear me, answer me! + +(_He opens the Book, and perceives the sign of the Macrocosm_.) + +Ha! what a sudden rapture leaps from this +I view, through all my senses swiftly flowing! +I feel a youthful, holy, vital bliss +In every vein and fibre newly glowing. +Was it a God, who traced this sign, +With calm across my tumult stealing, +My troubled heart to joy unsealing, +With impulse, mystic and divine, +The powers of Nature here, around my path, revealing? +Am I a God?—so clear mine eyes! +In these pure features I behold +Creative Nature to my soul unfold. +What says the sage, now first I recognize: +“The spirit-world no closures fasten; +Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead: +Disciple, up! untiring, hasten +To bathe thy breast in morning-red!” + +(_He contemplates the sign_.) + +How each the Whole its substance gives, +Each in the other works and lives! +Like heavenly forces rising and descending, +Their golden urns reciprocally lending, +With wings that winnow blessing +From Heaven through Earth I see them pressing, +Filling the All with harmony unceasing! +How grand a show! but, ah! a show alone. +Thee, boundless Nature, how make thee my own? +Where you, ye beasts? Founts of all Being, shining, +Whereon hang Heaven’s and Earth’s desire, +Whereto our withered hearts aspire,— +Ye flow, ye feed: and am I vainly pining? + +(_He turns the leaves impatiently, and perceives the sign of the +Earth-Spirit_.) + +How otherwise upon me works this sign! +Thou, Spirit of the Earth, art nearer: +Even now my powers are loftier, clearer; +I glow, as drunk with new-made wine: +New strength and heart to meet the world incite me, +The woe of earth, the bliss of earth, invite me, +And though the shock of storms may smite me, +No crash of shipwreck shall have power to fright me! +Clouds gather over me— +The moon conceals her light— +The lamp’s extinguished!— +Mists rise,—red, angry rays are darting +Around my head!—There falls +A horror from the vaulted roof, +And seizes me! +I feel thy presence, Spirit I invoke! +Reveal thyself! +Ha! in my heart what rending stroke! +With new impulsion +My senses heave in this convulsion! +I feel thee draw my heart, absorb, exhaust me: +Thou must! thou must! and though my life it cost me! + +(_He seizes the book, and mysteriously pronounces the sign of +the Spirit. A ruddy flame flashes: the Spirit appears in +the flame_.) + + +SPIRIT + +Who calls me? + + +FAUST (_with averted head_) + +Terrible to see! + + +SPIRIT + +Me hast thou long with might attracted, +Long from my sphere thy food exacted, +And now— + +FAUST + + Woe! I endure not thee! + + +SPIRIT + +To view me is thine aspiration, +My voice to hear, my countenance to see; +Thy powerful yearning moveth me, +Here am I!—what mean perturbation +Thee, superhuman, shakes? Thy soul’s high calling, where? +Where is the breast, which from itself a world did bear, +And shaped and cherished—which with joy expanded, +To be our peer, with us, the Spirits, banded? +Where art thou, Faust, whose voice has pierced to me, +Who towards me pressed with all thine energy? +_He_ art thou, who, my presence breathing, seeing, +Trembles through all the depths of being, +A writhing worm, a terror-stricken form? + + +FAUST + +Thee, form of flame, shall I then fear? +Yes, I am Faust: I am thy peer! + + +SPIRIT + + In the tides of Life, in Action’s storm, + A fluctuant wave, + A shuttle free, + Birth and the Grave, + An eternal sea, + A weaving, flowing + Life, all-glowing, +Thus at Time’s humming loom ’tis my hand prepares +The garment of Life which the Deity wears! + + +FAUST + +Thou, who around the wide world wendest, +Thou busy Spirit, how near I feel to thee! + + +SPIRIT + +Thou’rt like the Spirit which thou comprehendest, +Not me! + +(_Disappears_.) + + +FAUST (_overwhelmed_) + +Not thee! +Whom then? +I, image of the Godhead! +Not even like thee! + +(_A knock_). + +O Death!—I know it—’tis my Famulus! +My fairest luck finds no fruition: +In all the fullness of my vision +The soulless sneak disturbs me thus! + +(_Enter_ WAGNER_, in dressing-gown and night-cap, a lamp in +his hand. _FAUST_ turns impatiently_.) + + +WAGNER + +Pardon, I heard your declamation; +’Twas sure an old Greek tragedy you read? +In such an art I crave some preparation, +Since now it stands one in good stead. +I’ve often heard it said, a preacher +Might learn, with a comedian for a teacher. + + +FAUST + +Yes, when the priest comedian is by nature, +As haply now and then the case may be. + + +WAGNER + +Ah, when one studies thus, a prisoned creature, +That scarce the world on holidays can see,— +Scarce through a glass, by rare occasion, +How shall one lead it by persuasion? + + +FAUST + +You’ll ne’er attain it, save you know the feeling, +Save from the soul it rises clear, +Serene in primal strength, compelling +The hearts and minds of all who hear. +You sit forever gluing, patching; +You cook the scraps from others’ fare; +And from your heap of ashes hatching +A starveling flame, ye blow it bare! +Take children’s, monkeys’ gaze admiring, +If such your taste, and be content; +But ne’er from heart to heart you’ll speak inspiring, +Save your own heart is eloquent! + + +WAGNER + +Yet through delivery orators succeed; +I feel that I am far behind, indeed. + + +FAUST + +Seek thou the honest recompense! +Beware, a tinkling fool to be! +With little art, clear wit and sense +Suggest their own delivery; +And if thou’rt moved to speak in earnest, +What need, that after words thou yearnest? +Yes, your discourses, with their glittering show, +Where ye for men twist shredded thought like paper, +Are unrefreshing as the winds that blow +The rustling leaves through chill autumnal vapor! + + +WAGNER + +Ah, God! but Art is long, +And Life, alas! is fleeting. +And oft, with zeal my critic-duties meeting, +In head and breast there’s something wrong. + +How hard it is to compass the assistance +Whereby one rises to the source! +And, haply, ere one travels half the course +Must the poor devil quit existence. + + +FAUST + +Is parchment, then, the holy fount before thee, +A draught wherefrom thy thirst forever slakes? +No true refreshment can restore thee, +Save what from thine own soul spontaneous breaks. + + +WAGNER + +Pardon! a great delight is granted +When, in the spirit of the ages planted, +We mark how, ere our times, a sage has thought, +And then, how far his work, and grandly, we have brought. + + +FAUST + +O yes, up to the stars at last! +Listen, my friend: the ages that are past +Are now a book with seven seals protected: +What you the Spirit of the Ages call +Is nothing but the spirit of you all, +Wherein the Ages are reflected. +So, oftentimes, you miserably mar it! +At the first glance who sees it runs away. +An offal-barrel and a lumber-garret, +Or, at the best, a Punch-and-Judy play, +With maxims most pragmatical and hitting, +As in the mouths of puppets are befitting! + + +WAGNER + +But then, the world—the human heart and brain! +Of these one covets some slight apprehension. + + +FAUST + +Yes, of the kind which men attain! +Who dares the child’s true name in public mention? +The few, who thereof something really learned, +Unwisely frank, with hearts that spurned concealing, +And to the mob laid bare each thought and feeling, +Have evermore been crucified and burned. +I pray you, Friend, ’tis now the dead of night; +Our converse here must be suspended. + + +WAGNER + +I would have shared your watches with delight, +That so our learned talk might be extended. +To-morrow, though, I’ll ask, in Easter leisure, +This and the other question, at your pleasure. +Most zealously I seek for erudition: +Much do I know—but to know all is my ambition. + + [_Exit_. + + +FAUST (_solus_) + +That brain, alone, not loses hope, whose choice is +To stick in shallow trash forevermore,— +Which digs with eager hand for buried ore, +And, when it finds an angle-worm, rejoices! + +Dare such a human voice disturb the flow, +Around me here, of spirit-presence fullest? +And yet, this once my thanks I owe +To thee, of all earth’s sons the poorest, dullest! +For thou hast torn me from that desperate state +Which threatened soon to overwhelm my senses: +The apparition was so giant-great, +It dwarfed and withered all my soul’s pretences! + +I, image of the Godhead, who began— +Deeming Eternal Truth secure in nearness— +To sun myself in heavenly light and clearness, +And laid aside the earthly man;— +I, more than Cherub, whose free force had planned +To flow through Nature’s veins in glad pulsation, +To reach beyond, enjoying in creation +The life of Gods, behold my expiation! +A thunder-word hath swept me from my stand.27 + +With thee I dare not venture to compare me. +Though I possessed the power to draw thee near me, +The power to keep thee was denied my hand. +When that ecstatic moment held me, +I felt myself so small, so great; +But thou hast ruthlessly repelled me +Back upon Man’s uncertain fate. +What shall I shun? Whose guidance borrow? +Shall I accept that stress and strife? +Ah! every deed of ours, no less than every sorrow, +Impedes the onward march of life. + +Some alien substance more and more is cleaving +To all the mind conceives of grand and fair; +When this world’s Good is won by our achieving, +The Better, then, is named a cheat and snare. +The fine emotions, whence our lives we mould, +Lie in the earthly tumult dumb and cold. +If hopeful Fancy once, in daring flight, +Her longings to the Infinite expanded, +Yet now a narrow space contents her quite, +Since Time’s wild wave so many a fortune stranded. +Care at the bottom of the heart is lurking: +Her secret pangs in silence working, +She, restless, rocks herself, disturbing joy and rest: +In newer masks her face is ever drest, +By turns as house and land, as wife and child, presented,— +As water, fire, as poison, steel: +We dread the blows we never feel, +And what we never lose is yet by us lamented! + +I am not like the Gods! That truth is felt too deep: +The worm am I, that in the dust doth creep,— +That, while in dust it lives and seeks its bread, +Is crushed and buried by the wanderer’s tread. + +Is not this dust, these walls within them hold, +The hundred shelves, which cramp and chain me, +The frippery, the trinkets thousandfold, +That in this mothy den restrain me? +Here shall I find the help I need? +Shall here a thousand volumes teach me only +That men, self-tortured, everywhere must bleed,— +And here and there one happy man sits lonely?28 +What mean’st thou by that grin, thou hollow skull, +Save that thy brain, like mine, a cloudy mirror, +Sought once the shining day, and then, in twilight dull,29 +Thirsting for Truth, went wretchedly to Error? +Ye instruments, forsooth, but jeer at me +With wheel and cog, and shapes uncouth of wonder; +I found the portal, you the keys should be; +Your wards are deftly wrought, but drive no bolts asunder! +Mysterious even in open day, +Nature retains her veil, despite our clamors: +That which she doth not willingly display +Cannot be wrenched from her with levers, screws, and hammers. +Ye ancient tools, whose use I never knew, +Here, since my father used ye, still ye moulder: +Thou, ancient scroll, hast worn thy smoky hue +Since at this desk the dim lamp wont to smoulder. +’T were better far, had I my little idly spent, +Than now to sweat beneath its burden, I confess it! +What from your fathers’ heritage is lent, +Earn it anew, to really possess it!30 +What serves not, is a sore impediment: +The Moment’s need creates the thing to serve and bless it! + +Yet, wherefore tums my gaze to yonder point so lightly? +Is yonder flask a magnet for mine eyes? +Whence, all around me, glows the air so brightly, +As when in woods at night the mellow moonbeam lies? + +I hail thee, wondrous, rarest vial! +I take thee down devoutly, for the trial: +Man’s art and wit I venerate in thee. +Thou summary of gentle slumber-juices, +Essence of deadly finest powers and uses, +Unto thy master show thy favor free! +I see thee, and the stings of pain diminish; +I grasp thee, and my struggles slowly finish: +My spirit’s flood-tide ebbeth more and more. +Out on the open ocean speeds my dreaming; +The glassy flood before my feet is gleaming, +A new day beckons to a newer shore! + +A fiery chariot, borne on buoyant pinions, +Sweeps near me now! I soon shall ready be +To pierce the ether’s high, unknown dominions, +To reach new spheres of pure activity! +This godlike rapture, this supreme existence, +Do I, but now a worm, deserve to track? +Yes, resolute to reach some brighter distance, +On Earth’s fair sun I turn my back 31 +Yes, let me dare those gates to fling asunder, +Which every man would fain go slinking by! +’T is time, through deeds this word of truth to thunder: +That with the height of Gods Man’s dignity may vie! +Nor from that gloomy gulf to shrink affrighted, +Where Fancy doth herself to self-born pangs compel,— +To struggle toward that pass benighted, +Around whose narrow mouth flame all the fires of Hell,— +To take this step with cheerful resolution, +Though Nothingness should be the certain, swift conclusion! +And now come down, thou cup of crystal clearest! +Fresh from thine ancient cover thou appearest, +So many years forgotten to my thought! +Thou shon’st at old ancestral banquets cheery, +The solemn guests thou madest merry, +When one thy wassail to the other brought. +The rich and skilful figures o’er thee wrought, +The drinker’s duty, rhyme-wise to explain them, +Or in one breath below the mark to drain them, +From many a night of youth my memory caught. +Now to a neighbor shall I pass thee never, +Nor on thy curious art to test my wit endeavor, +Here is a juice whence sleep is swiftly born. +It fills with browner flood thy crystal hollow; +I chose, prepared it: thus I follow,— +With all my soul the final drink I swallow, +A solemn festal cup, a greeting to the morn! +[He sets the goblet to his mouth. +(Chime of bells and choral song.) + + +CHORUS OF ANGELS.32 +Christ is arisen! +Joy to the Mortal One, +Whom the unmerited, +Clinging, inherited +Needs did imprison. + + +FAUST. +What hollow humming, what a sharp, clear stroke, +Drives from my lip the goblet’s, at their meeting? +Announce the booming bells already woke +The first glad hour of Easter’s festal greeting? +Ye choirs, have ye begun the sweet, consoling chant, +Which, through the night of Death, the angels ministrant +Sang, God’s new Covenant repeating? + + +CHORUS OF WOMEN + + With spices and precious + Balm, we arrayed him; + Faithful and gracious, + We tenderly laid him: + Linen to bind him + Cleanlily wound we: + Ah! when we would find him, + Christ no more found we! + + +CHORUS OF ANGELS + + Christ is ascended! + Bliss hath invested him,— + Woes that molested him, + Trials that tested him, + Gloriously ended! + + +FAUST + +Why, here in dust, entice me with your spell, +Ye gentle, powerful sounds of Heaven? +Peal rather there, where tender natures dwell. +Your messages I hear, but faith has not been given; +The dearest child of Faith is Miracle. +I venture not to soar to yonder regions +Whence the glad tidings hither float; +And yet, from childhood up familiar with the note, +To Life it now renews the old allegiance. +Once Heavenly Love sent down a burning kiss +Upon my brow, in Sabbath silence holy; +And, filled with mystic presage, chimed the church-bell slowly, +And prayer dissolved me in a fervent bliss. +A sweet, uncomprehended yearning +Drove forth my feet through woods and meadows free, +And while a thousand tears were burning, +I felt a world arise for me. +These chants, to youth and all its sports appealing, +Proclaimed the Spring’s rejoicing holiday; +And Memory holds me now, with childish feeling, +Back from the last, the solemn way. +Sound on, ye hymns of Heaven, so sweet and mild! +My tears gush forth: the Earth takes back her child! + + +CHORUS OF DISCIPLES + + Has He, victoriously, + Burst from the vaulted + Grave, and all-gloriously + Now sits exalted? + Is He, in glow of birth, + Rapture creative near? + Ah! to the woe of earth + Still are we native here. + We, his aspiring + Followers, Him we miss; + Weeping, desiring, + Master, Thy bliss! + +CHORUS OF ANGELS + + Christ is arisen, + Out of Corruption’s womb: + Burst ye the prison, + Break from your gloom! + Praising and pleading him, + Lovingly needing him, + Brotherly feeding him, + Preaching and speeding him, + Blessing, succeeding Him, + Thus is the Master near,— + Thus is He here! +[Illustration] + + + + +II + + +BEFORE THE CITY-GATE + +(_Pedestrians of all kinds come forth_.) + + +SEVERAL APPRENTICES + +Why do you go that way? + + +OTHERS + +We’re for the Hunters’ lodge, to-day. + + +THE FIRST + +We’ll saunter to the Mill, in yonder hollow. + + +AN APPRENTICE + +Go to the River Tavern, I should say. + + +SECOND APPRENTICE + +But then, it’s not a pleasant way. + + +THE OTHERS + +And what will _you_? + +A THIRD + + As goes the crowd, I follow. + + +A FOURTH + +Come up to Burgdorf? There you’ll find good cheer, +The finest lasses and the best of beer, +And jolly rows and squabbles, trust me! + + +A FIFTH + +You swaggering fellow, is your hide +A third time itching to be tried? +I won’t go there, your jolly rows disgust me! + + +SERVANT-GIRL + +No,—no! I’ll turn and go to town again. + + +ANOTHER + +We’ll surely find him by those poplars yonder. + + +THE FIRST + +That’s no great luck for me, ’tis plain. +You’ll have him, when and where you wander: +His partner in the dance you’ll be,— +But what is all your fun to me? + + +THE OTHER + +He’s surely not alone to-day: +He’ll be with Curly-head, I heard him say. + + +A STUDENT + +Deuce! how they step, the buxom wenches! +Come, Brother! we must see them to the benches. +A strong, old beer, a pipe that stings and bites, +A girl in Sunday clothes,—these three are my delights. + + +CITIZEN’S DAUGHTER + +Just see those handsome fellows, there! +It’s really shameful, I declare;— +To follow servant-girls, when they +Might have the most genteel society to-day! + + +SECOND STUDENT (_to the First_) + +Not quite so fast! Two others come behind,— +Those, dressed so prettily and neatly. +My neighbor’s one of them, I find, +A girl that takes my heart, completely. +They go their way with looks demure, +But they’ll accept us, after all, I’m sure. + + +THE FIRST + +No, Brother! not for me their formal ways. +Quick! lest our game escape us in the press: +The hand that wields the broom on Saturdays +Will best, on Sundays, fondle and caress. + + +CITIZEN + +He suits me not at all, our new-made Burgomaster! +Since he’s installed, his arrogance grows faster. +How has he helped the town, I say? +Things worsen,—what improvement names he? +Obedience, more than ever, claims he, +And more than ever we must pay! + + +BEGGAR (_sings_) + + Good gentlemen and lovely ladies, + So red of cheek and fine of dress, + Behold, how needful here your aid is, + And see and lighten my distress! + Let me not vainly sing my ditty; + He’s only glad who gives away: + A holiday, that shows your pity, + Shall be for me a harvest-day! + + +ANOTHER CITIZEN + +On Sundays, holidays, there’s naught I take delight in, +Like gossiping of war, and war’s array, +When down in Turkey, far away, +The foreign people are a-fighting. +One at the window sits, with glass and friends, +And sees all sorts of ships go down the river gliding: +And blesses then, as home he wends +At night, our times of peace abiding. + + +THIRD CITIZEN + +Yes, Neighbor! that’s my notion, too: +Why, let them break their heads, let loose their passions, +And mix things madly through and through, +So, here, we keep our good old fashions! + + +OLD WOMAN (_to the Citizen’s Daughter_) + +Dear me, how fine! So handsome, and so young! +Who wouldn’t lose his heart, that met you? +Don’t be so proud! I’ll hold my tongue, +And what you’d like I’ll undertake to get you. + + +CITIZEN’S DAUGHTER + +Come, Agatha! I shun the witch’s sight +Before folks, lest there be misgiving: +’Tis true, she showed me, on Saint Andrew’s Night, +My future sweetheart, just as he were living. + + +THE OTHER + +She showed me mine, in crystal clear, +With several wild young blades, a soldier-lover: +I seek him everywhere, I pry and peer, +And yet, somehow, his face I can’t discover. + +SOLDIERS + + Castles, with lofty + Ramparts and towers, + Maidens disdainful + In Beauty’s array, + Both shall be ours! + Bold is the venture, + Splendid the pay! + Lads, let the trumpets + For us be suing,— + Calling to pleasure, + Calling to ruin. + Stormy our life is; + Such is its boon! + Maidens and castles + Capitulate soon. + Bold is the venture, + Splendid the pay! + And the soldiers go marching, + Marching away! + + +FAUST AND WAGNER + + +FAUST + +Released from ice are brook and river +By the quickening glance of the gracious Spring; +The colors of hope to the valley cling, +And weak old Winter himself must shiver, +Withdrawn to the mountains, a crownless king: +Whence, ever retreating, he sends again +Impotent showers of sleet that darkle +In belts across the green o’ the plain. +But the sun will permit no white to sparkle; +Everywhere form in development moveth; +He will brighten the world with the tints he loveth, +And, lacking blossoms, blue, yellow, and red, +He takes these gaudy people instead. +Turn thee about, and from this height +Back on the town direct thy sight. +Out of the hollow, gloomy gate, +The motley throngs come forth elate: +Each will the joy of the sunshine hoard, +To honor the Day of the Risen Lord! +They feel, themselves, their resurrection: +From the low, dark rooms, scarce habitable; +From the bonds of Work, from Trade’s restriction; +From the pressing weight of roof and gable; +From the narrow, crushing streets and alleys; +From the churches’ solemn and reverend night, +All come forth to the cheerful light. +How lively, see! the multitude sallies, +Scattering through gardens and fields remote, +While over the river, that broadly dallies, +Dances so many a festive boat; +And overladen, nigh to sinking, +The last full wherry takes the stream. +Yonder afar, from the hill-paths blinking, +Their clothes are colors that softly gleam. +I hear the noise of the village, even; +Here is the People’s proper Heaven; +Here high and low contented see! +Here I am Man,—dare man to be! + + +WAGNER + +To stroll with you, Sir Doctor, flatters; +’Tis honor, profit, unto me. +But I, alone, would shun these shallow matters, +Since all that’s coarse provokes my enmity. +This fiddling, shouting, ten-pin rolling +I hate,—these noises of the throng: +They rave, as Satan were their sports controlling. +And call it mirth, and call it song! + + +PEASANTS, UNDER THE LINDEN-TREE + (_Dance and Song_.) + + All for the dance the shepherd dressed, + In ribbons, wreath, and gayest vest + Himself with care arraying: + Around the linden lass and lad + Already footed it like mad: + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah—tarara-la! + The fiddle-bow was playing. + + He broke the ranks, no whit afraid, + And with his elbow punched a maid, + Who stood, the dance surveying: + The buxom wench, she turned and said: + “Now, you I call a stupid-head!” + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah—tarara-la! + “Be decent while you’re staying!” + + Then round the circle went their flight, + They danced to left, they danced to right: + Their kirtles all were playing. + They first grew red, and then grew warm, + And rested, panting, arm in arm,— + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah—tarara-la! + And hips and elbows straying. + + Now, don’t be so familiar here! + How many a one has fooled his dear, + Waylaying and betraying! + + And yet, he coaxed her soon aside, + And round the linden sounded wide. + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah—tarara-la! + And the fiddle-bow was playing. + +OLD PEASANT + +Sir Doctor, it is good of you, +That thus you condescend, to-day, +Among this crowd of merry folk, +A highly-learned man, to stray. +Then also take the finest can, +We fill with fresh wine, for your sake: +I offer it, and humbly wish +That not alone your thirst is slake,— +That, as the drops below its brink, +So many days of life you drink! + + +FAUST + +I take the cup you kindly reach, +With thanks and health to all and each. + +(_The People gather in a circle about him_.) + + +OLD PEASANT + +In truth, ’tis well and fitly timed, +That now our day of joy you share, +Who heretofore, in evil days, +Gave us so much of helping care. +Still many a man stands living here, +Saved by your father’s skillful hand, +That snatched him from the fever’s rage +And stayed the plague in all the land. +Then also you, though but a youth, +Went into every house of pain: +Many the corpses carried forth, +But you in health came out again. + +FAUST + +No test or trial you evaded: +A Helping God the helper aided. + +ALL + +Health to the man, so skilled and tried. +That for our help he long may abide! + +FAUST + +To Him above bow down, my friends, +Who teaches help, and succor sends! + +(_He goes on with_ WAGNER.) + +WAGNER + +With what a feeling, thou great man, must thou +Receive the people’s honest veneration! +How lucky he, whose gifts his station +With such advantages endow! +Thou’rt shown to all the younger generation: +Each asks, and presses near to gaze; +The fiddle stops, the dance delays. +Thou goest, they stand in rows to see, +And all the caps are lifted high; +A little more, and they would bend the knee +As if the Holy Host came by. + +FAUST + +A few more steps ascend, as far as yonder stone!— +Here from our wandering will we rest contented. +Here, lost in thought, I’ve lingered oft alone, +When foolish fasts and prayers my life tormented. +Here, rich in hope and firm in faith, +With tears, wrung hands and sighs, I’ve striven, +The end of that far-spreading death +Entreating from the Lord of Heaven! +Now like contempt the crowd’s applauses seem: +Couldst thou but read, within mine inmost spirit, +How little now I deem, +That sire or son such praises merit! +My father’s was a sombre, brooding brain, +Which through the holy spheres of Nature groped and wandered, +And honestly, in his own fashion, pondered +With labor whimsical, and pain: +Who, in his dusky work-shop bending, +With proved adepts in company, +Made, from his recipes unending, +Opposing substances agree. +There was a Lion red, a wooer daring, +Within the Lily’s tepid bath espoused, +And both, tormented then by flame unsparing, +By turns in either bridal chamber housed. +If then appeared, with colors splendid, +The young Queen in her crystal shell, +This was the medicine—the patients’ woes soon ended, +And none demanded: who got well? +Thus we, our hellish boluses compounding, +Among these vales and hills surrounding, +Worse than the pestilence, have passed. +Thousands were done to death from poison of my giving; +And I must hear, by all the living, +The shameless murderers praised at last! + +WAGNER + +Why, therefore, yield to such depression? +A good man does his honest share +In exercising, with the strictest care, +The art bequeathed to his possession! +Dost thou thy father honor, as a youth? +Then may his teaching cheerfully impel thee: +Dost thou, as man, increase the stores of truth? +Then may thine own son afterwards excel thee. + +FAUST + +O happy he, who still renews +The hope, from Error’s deeps to rise forever! +That which one does not know, one needs to use; +And what one knows, one uses never. +But let us not, by such despondence, so +The fortune of this hour embitter! +Mark how, beneath the evening sunlight’s glow, +The green-embosomed houses glitter! +The glow retreats, done is the day of toil; +It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring; +Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil, +Upon its track to follow, follow soaring! +Then would I see eternal Evening gild +The silent world beneath me glowing, +On fire each mountain-peak, with peace each valley filled, +The silver brook to golden rivers flowing. +The mountain-chain, with all its gorges deep, +Would then no more impede my godlike motion; +And now before mine eyes expands the ocean +With all its bays, in shining sleep! +Yet, finally, the weary god is sinking; +The new-born impulse fires my mind,— +I hasten on, his beams eternal drinking, +The Day before me and the Night behind, +Above me heaven unfurled, the floor of waves beneath me,— +A glorious dream! though now the glories fade. +Alas! the wings that lift the mind no aid +Of wings to lift the body can bequeath me. +Yet in each soul is born the pleasure +Of yearning onward, upward and away, +When o’er our heads, lost in the vaulted azure, +The lark sends down his flickering lay,— +When over crags and piny highlands +The poising eagle slowly soars, +And over plains and lakes and islands +The crane sails by to other shores. + +WAGNER + +I’ve had, myself, at times, some odd caprices, +But never yet such impulse felt, as this is. +One soon fatigues, on woods and fields to look, +Nor would I beg the bird his wing to spare us: +How otherwise the mental raptures bear us +From page to page, from book to book! +Then winter nights take loveliness untold, +As warmer life in every limb had crowned you; +And when your hands unroll some parchment rare and old, +All Heaven descends, and opens bright around you! + +FAUST + +One impulse art thou conscious of, at best; +O, never seek to know the other! +Two souls, alas! reside within my breast, +And each withdraws from, and repels, its brother. +One with tenacious organs holds in love +And clinging lust the world in its embraces; +The other strongly sweeps, this dust above, +Into the high ancestral spaces. +If there be airy spirits near, +’Twixt Heaven and Earth on potent errands fleeing, +Let them drop down the golden atmosphere, +And bear me forth to new and varied being! +Yea, if a magic mantle once were mine, +To waft me o’er the world at pleasure, +I would not for the costliest stores of treasure— +Not for a monarch’s robe—the gift resign. + +WAGNER + +Invoke not thus the well-known throng, +Which through the firmament diffused is faring, +And danger thousand-fold, our race to wrong. +In every quarter is preparing. +Swift from the North the spirit-fangs so sharp +Sweep down, and with their barbéd points assail you; +Then from the East they come, to dry and warp +Your lungs, till breath and being fail you: +If from the Desert sendeth them the South, +With fire on fire your throbbing forehead crowning, +The West leads on a host, to cure the drouth +Only when meadow, field, and you are drowning. +They gladly hearken, prompt for injury,— +Gladly obey, because they gladly cheat us; +From Heaven they represent themselves to be, +And lisp like angels, when with lies they meet us. +But, let us go! ’Tis gray and dusky all: +The air is cold, the vapors fall. +At night, one learns his house to prize:— +Why stand you thus, with such astonished eyes? +What, in the twilight, can your mind so trouble? + +FAUST + +Seest thou the black dog coursing there, through corn and +stubble? + +WAGNER + +Long since: yet deemed him not important in the least. + +FAUST + +Inspect him close: for what tak’st thou the beast? + +WAGNER + +Why, for a poodle who has lost his master, +And scents about, his track to find. + +FAUST + +Seest thou the spiral circles, narrowing faster, +Which he, approaching, round us seems to wind? +A streaming trail of fire, if I see rightly, +Follows his path of mystery. + +WAGNER + +It may be that your eyes deceive you slightly; +Naught but a plain black poodle do I see. + +FAUST + +It seems to me that with enchanted cunning +He snares our feet, some future chain to bind. + +WAGNER + +I see him timidly, in doubt, around us running, +Since, in his master’s stead, two strangers doth he find. + +FAUST + +The circle narrows: he is near! + +WAGNER + +A dog thou seest, and not a phantom, here! +Behold him stop—upon his belly crawl—His +tail set wagging: canine habits, all! + +FAUST + +Come, follow us! Come here, at least! + +WAGNER + +’Tis the absurdest, drollest beast. +Stand still, and you will see him wait; +Address him, and he gambols straight; +If something’s lost, he’ll quickly bring it,— +Your cane, if in the stream you fling it. + +FAUST + +No doubt you’re right: no trace of mind, I own, +Is in the beast: I see but drill, alone. + +WAGNER + +The dog, when he’s well educated, +Is by the wisest tolerated. +Yes, he deserves your favor thoroughly,— +The clever scholar of the students, he! + +(_They pass in the city-gate_.) + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +III + + +THE STUDY + +FAUST + +(_Entering, with the poodle_.) + + Behind me, field and meadow sleeping, + I leave in deep, prophetic night, + Within whose dread and holy keeping + The better soul awakes to light. + The wild desires no longer win us, + The deeds of passion cease to chain; + The love of Man revives within us, + The love of God revives again. + +Be still, thou poodle; make not such racket and riot! +Why at the threshold wilt snuffing be? +Behind the stove repose thee in quiet! +My softest cushion I give to thee. +As thou, up yonder, with running and leaping +Amused us hast, on the mountain’s crest, + +So now I take thee into my keeping, +A welcome, but also a silent, guest. + + Ah, when, within our narrow chamber + The lamp with friendly lustre glows, + Flames in the breast each faded ember, + And in the heart, itself that knows. + Then Hope again lends sweet assistance, + And Reason then resumes her speech: + One yearns, the rivers of existence, + The very founts of Life, to reach. + +Snarl not, poodle! To the sound that rises, +The sacred tones that my soul embrace, +This bestial noise is out of place. +We are used to see, that Man despises +What he never comprehends, +And the Good and the Beautiful vilipends, +Finding them often hard to measure: +Will the dog, like man, snarl _his_ displeasure? + +But ah! I feel, though will thereto be stronger, +Contentment flows from out my breast no longer. +Why must the stream so soon run dry and fail us, +And burning thirst again assail us? +Therein I’ve borne so much probation! +And yet, this want may be supplied us; +We call the Supernatural to guide us; +We pine and thirst for Revelation, +Which nowhere worthier is, more nobly sent, +Than here, in our New Testament. +I feel impelled, its meaning to determine,— +With honest purpose, once for all, +The hallowed Original +To change to my beloved German. + +(_He opens a volume, and commences_.) +’Tis written: “In the Beginning was the _Word_.” +Here am I balked: who, now can help afford? +The _Word?_—impossible so high to rate it; +And otherwise must I translate it. +If by the Spirit I am truly taught. +Then thus: “In the Beginning was the _Thought_” +This first line let me weigh completely, +Lest my impatient pen proceed too fleetly. +Is it the _Thought_ which works, creates, indeed? +“In the Beginning was the _Power_,” I read. +Yet, as I write, a warning is suggested, +That I the sense may not have fairly tested. +The Spirit aids me: now I see the light! +“In the Beginning was the _Act_,” I write. + +If I must share my chamber with thee, +Poodle, stop that howling, prithee! +Cease to bark and bellow! +Such a noisy, disturbing fellow +I’ll no longer suffer near me. +One of us, dost hear me! +Must leave, I fear me. +No longer guest-right I bestow; +The door is open, art free to go. +But what do I see in the creature? +Is that in the course of nature? +Is’t actual fact? or Fancy’s shows? +How long and broad my poodle grows! +He rises mightily: +A canine form that cannot be! +What a spectre I’ve harbored thus! +He resembles a hippopotamus, +With fiery eyes, teeth terrible to see: +O, now am I sure of thee! +For all of thy half-hellish brood +The Key of Solomon is good. + +SPIRITS (_in the corridor_) + + Some one, within, is caught! + Stay without, follow him not! + Like the fox in a snare, + Quakes the old hell-lynx there. + Take heed—look about! + Back and forth hover, + Under and over, + And he’ll work himself out. + If your aid avail him, + Let it not fail him; + For he, without measure, + Has wrought for our pleasure. + +FAUST + +First, to encounter the beast, +The Words of the Four be addressed: + Salamander, shine glorious! + Wave, Undine, as bidden! + Sylph, be thou hidden! + Gnome, be laborious! + +Who knows not their sense +(These elements),— +Their properties +And power not sees,— +No mastery he inherits +Over the Spirits. + + Vanish in flaming ether, + Salamander! + Flow foamingly together, + Undine! + Shine in meteor-sheen, + Sylph! + Bring help to hearth and shelf. + Incubus! Incubus! + Step forward, and finish thus! + +Of the Four, no feature +Lurks in the creature. +Quiet he lies, and grins disdain: +Not yet, it seems, have I given him pain. +Now, to undisguise thee, +Hear me exorcise thee! +Art thou, my gay one, +Hell’s fugitive stray-one? +The sign witness now, +Before which they bow, +The cohorts of Hell! + +With hair all bristling, it begins to swell. + + Base Being, hearest thou? + Knowest and fearest thou + The One, unoriginate, + Named inexpressibly, + Through all Heaven impermeate, + Pierced irredressibly! + +Behind the stove still banned, +See it, an elephant, expand! +It fills the space entire, +Mist-like melting, ever faster. +’Tis enough: ascend no higher,— +Lay thyself at the feet of the Master! +Thou seest, not vain the threats I bring thee: +With holy fire I’ll scorch and sting thee! +Wait not to know +The threefold dazzling glow! +Wait not to know +The strongest art within my hands! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_while the vapor is dissipating, steps forth from behind the +stove, in the costume of a Travelling Scholar_.) +Why such a noise? What are my lord’s commands? + +FAUST + +This was the poodle’s real core, +A travelling scholar, then? The _casus_ is diverting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The learned gentleman I bow before: +You’ve made me roundly sweat, that’s certain! + +FAUST + +What is thy name? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A question small, it seems, +For one whose mind the Word so much despises; +Who, scorning all external gleams, +The depths of being only prizes. + +FAUST + +With all you gentlemen, the name’s a test, +Whereby the nature usually is expressed. +Clearly the latter it implies +In names like Beelzebub, Destroyer, Father of Lies. +Who art thou, then? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Part of that Power, not understood, +Which always wills the Bad, and always works the Good. + +FAUST + +What hidden sense in this enigma lies? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I am the Spirit that Denies! +And justly so: for all things, from the Void +Called forth, deserve to be destroyed: +’Twere better, then, were naught created. +Thus, all which you as Sin have rated,— +Destruction,—aught with Evil blent,— +That is my proper element. + +FAUST + +Thou nam’st thyself a part, yet show’st complete to me? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The modest truth I speak to thee. +If Man, that microcosmic fool, can see +Himself a whole so frequently, +Part of the Part am I, once All, in primal Night,— +Part of the Darkness which brought forth the Light, +The haughty Light, which now disputes the space, +And claims of Mother Night her ancient place. +And yet, the struggle fails; since Light, howe’er it weaves, +Still, fettered, unto bodies cleaves: +It flows from bodies, bodies beautifies; +By bodies is its course impeded; +And so, but little time is needed, +I hope, ere, as the bodies die, it dies! + +FAUST + +I see the plan thou art pursuing: +Thou canst not compass general ruin, +And hast on smaller scale begun. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And truly ’tis not much, when all is done. +That which to Naught is in resistance set,— +The Something of this clumsy world,—has yet, +With all that I have undertaken, +Not been by me disturbed or shaken: +From earthquake, tempest, wave, volcano’s brand, +Back into quiet settle sea and land! +And that damned stuff, the bestial, human brood,— +What use, in having that to play with? +How many have I made away with! +And ever circulates a newer, fresher blood. +It makes me furious, such things beholding: +From Water, Earth, and Air unfolding, +A thousand germs break forth and grow, +In dry, and wet, and warm, and chilly; +And had I not the Flame reserved, why, really, +There’s nothing special of my own to show! + +FAUST + +So, to the actively eternal +Creative force, in cold disdain +You now oppose the fist infernal, +Whose wicked clench is all in vain! +Some other labor seek thou rather, +Queer Son of Chaos, to begin! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Well, we’ll consider: thou canst gather +My views, when next I venture in. +Might I, perhaps, depart at present? + +FAUST + +Why thou shouldst ask, I don’t perceive. +Though our acquaintance is so recent, +For further visits thou hast leave. +The window’s here, the door is yonder; +A chimney, also, you behold. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I must confess that forth I may not wander, +My steps by one slight obstacle controlled,— +The wizard’s-foot, that on your threshold made is. + +FAUST + +The pentagram prohibits thee? +Why, tell me now, thou Son of Hades, +If that prevents, how cam’st thou in to me? +Could such a spirit be so cheated? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Inspect the thing: the drawing’s not completed. +The outer angle, you may see, +Is open left—the lines don’t fit it. + +FAUST + +Well,—Chance, this time, has fairly hit it! +And thus, thou’rt prisoner to me? +It seems the business has succeeded. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The poodle naught remarked, as after thee he speeded; +But other aspects now obtain: +The Devil can’t get out again. + +FAUST + +Try, then, the open window-pane! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +For Devils and for spectres this is law: +Where they have entered in, there also they withdraw. +The first is free to us; we’re governed by the second. + +FAUST + +In Hell itself, then, laws are reckoned? +That’s well! So might a compact be +Made with you gentlemen—and binding,—surely? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +All that is promised shall delight thee purely; +No skinflint bargain shalt thou see. +But this is not of swift conclusion; +We’ll talk about the matter soon. +And now, I do entreat this boon— +Leave to withdraw from my intrusion. + +FAUST + +One moment more I ask thee to remain, +Some pleasant news, at least, to tell me. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Release me, now! I soon shall come again; +Then thou, at will, mayst question and compel me. + +FAUST + +I have not snares around thee cast; +Thyself hast led thyself into the meshes. +Who traps the Devil, hold him fast! +Not soon a second time he’ll catch a prey so precious. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +An’t please thee, also I’m content to stay, +And serve thee in a social station; +But stipulating, that I may +With arts of mine afford thee recreation. + +FAUST + +Thereto I willingly agree, +If the diversion pleasant be. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My friend, thou’lt win, past all pretences, +More in this hour to soothe thy senses, +Than in the year’s monotony. +That which the dainty spirits sing thee, +The lovely pictures they shall bring thee, +Are more than magic’s empty show. +Thy scent will be to bliss invited; +Thy palate then with taste delighted, +Thy nerves of touch ecstatic glow! +All unprepared, the charm I spin: +We’re here together, so begin! + +SPIRITS + + Vanish, ye darking + Arches above him! + Loveliest weather, + Born of blue ether, + Break from the sky! + O that the darkling + Clouds had departed! + Starlight is sparkling, + Tranquiller-hearted + Suns are on high. + Heaven’s own children + In beauty bewildering, + Waveringly bending, + Pass as they hover; + Longing unending + Follows them over. + They, with their glowing + Garments, out-flowing, + Cover, in going, + Landscape and bower, + Where, in seclusion, + Lovers are plighted, + Lost in illusion. + Bower on bower! + Tendrils unblighted! + Lo! in a shower + Grapes that o’ercluster + Gush into must, or + Flow into rivers + Of foaming and flashing + Wine, that is dashing + Gems, as it boundeth + Down the high places, + And spreading, surroundeth + With crystalline spaces, + In happy embraces, + Blossoming forelands, + Emerald shore-lands! + And the winged races + Drink, and fly onward— + Fly ever sunward + To the enticing + Islands, that flatter, + Dipping and rising + Light on the water! + Hark, the inspiring + Sound of their quiring! + See, the entrancing + Whirl of their dancing! + All in the air are + Freer and fairer. + Some of them scaling + Boldly the highlands, + Others are sailing, + Circling the islands; + Others are flying; + Life-ward all hieing,— + All for the distant + Star of existent + Rapture and Love! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +He sleeps! Enough, ye fays! your airy number +Have sung him truly into slumber: +For this performance I your debtor prove.— +Not yet art thou the man, to catch the Fiend and hold him!— +With fairest images of dreams infold him, +Plunge him in seas of sweet untruth! +Yet, for the threshold’s magic which controlled him, +The Devil needs a rat’s quick tooth. +I use no lengthened invocation: +Here rustles one that soon will work my liberation. + +The lord of rats and eke of mice, +Of flies and bed-bugs, frogs and lice, +Summons thee hither to the door-sill, +To gnaw it where, with just a morsel +Of oil, he paints the spot for thee:— +There com’st thou, hopping on to me! +To work, at once! The point which made me craven +Is forward, on the ledge, engraven. +Another bite makes free the door: +So, dream thy dreams, O Faust, until we meet once more! + +FAUST _(awaking)_ + +Am I again so foully cheated? +Remains there naught of lofty spirit-sway, +But that a dream the Devil counterfeited, +And that a poodle ran away? + +[Illustration] + + + + +IV + + +THE STUDY + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +A knock? Come in! Again my quiet broken? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +’Tis I! + +FAUST + + Come in! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Thrice must the words be spoken. + +FAUST + +Come in, then! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Thus thou pleasest me. +I hope we’ll suit each other well; +For now, thy vapors to dispel, +I come, a squire of high degree, +In scarlet coat, with golden trimming, +A cloak in silken lustre swimming, +A tall cock’s-feather in my hat, +A long, sharp sword for show or quarrel,— +And I advise thee, brief and flat, +To don the self-same gay apparel, +That, from this den released, and free, +Life be at last revealed to thee! + +FAUST + +This life of earth, whatever my attire, +Would pain me in its wonted fashion. +Too old am I to play with passion; +Too young, to be without desire. +What from the world have I to gain? +Thou shalt abstain—renounce—refrain! +Such is the everlasting song +That in the ears of all men rings,— +That unrelieved, our whole life long, +Each hour, in passing, hoarsely sings. +In very terror I at morn awake, +Upon the verge of bitter weeping, +To see the day of disappointment break, +To no one hope of mine—not one—its promise keeping:— +That even each joy’s presentiment +With wilful cavil would diminish, +With grinning masks of life prevent +My mind its fairest work to finish! +Then, too, when night descends, how anxiously +Upon my couch of sleep I lay me: +There, also, comes no rest to me, +But some wild dream is sent to fray me. +The God that in my breast is owned +Can deeply stir the inner sources; +The God, above my powers enthroned, +He cannot change external forces. +So, by the burden of my days oppressed, +Death is desired, and Life a thing unblest! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And yet is never Death a wholly welcome guest. + +FAUST + +O fortunate, for whom, when victory glances, +The bloody laurels on the brow he bindeth! +Whom, after rapid, maddening dances, +In clasping maiden-arms he findeth! +O would that I, before that spirit-power, +Ravished and rapt from life, had sunken! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And yet, by some one, in that nightly hour, +A certain liquid was not drunken. + +FAUST + +Eavesdropping, ha! thy pleasure seems to be. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Omniscient am I not; yet much is known to me. + +FAUST + +Though some familiar tone, retrieving +My thoughts from torment, led me on, +And sweet, clear echoes came, deceiving +A faith bequeathed from Childhood’s dawn, +Yet now I curse whate’er entices +And snares the soul with visions vain; +With dazzling cheats and dear devices +Confines it in this cave of pain! +Cursed be, at once, the high ambition +Wherewith the mind itself deludes! +Cursed be the glare of apparition +That on the finer sense intrudes! +Cursed be the lying dream’s impression +Of name, and fame, and laurelled brow! +Cursed, all that flatters as possession, +As wife and child, as knave and plow! +Cursed Mammon be, when he with treasures +To restless action spurs our fate! +Cursed when, for soft, indulgent leisures, +He lays for us the pillows straight! +Cursed be the vine’s transcendent nectar,— +The highest favor Love lets fall! +Cursed, also, Hope!—cursed Faith, the spectre! +And cursed be Patience most of all! + +CHORUS OF SPIRITS (_invisible_) + + Woe! woe! + Thou hast it destroyed, + The beautiful world, + With powerful fist: + In ruin ’tis hurled, + By the blow of a demigod shattered! + The scattered + Fragments into the Void we carry, + Deploring + The beauty perished beyond restoring. + Mightier + For the children of men, + Brightlier + Build it again, + In thine own bosom build it anew! + Bid the new career + Commence, + With clearer sense, + And the new songs of cheer + Be sung thereto! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +These are the small dependants +Who give me attendance. +Hear them, to deeds and passion +Counsel in shrewd old-fashion! +Into the world of strife, +Out of this lonely life +That of senses and sap has betrayed thee, +They would persuade thee. +This nursing of the pain forego thee, +That, like a vulture, feeds upon thy breast! +The worst society thou find’st will show thee +Thou art a man among the rest. +But ’tis not meant to thrust +Thee into the mob thou hatest! +I am not one of the greatest, +Yet, wilt thou to me entrust +Thy steps through life, I’ll guide thee,— +Will willingly walk beside thee,— +Will serve thee at once and forever +With best endeavor, +And, if thou art satisfied, +Will as servant, slave, with thee abide. + +FAUST + +And what shall be my counter-service therefor? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The time is long: thou need’st not now insist. + +FAUST + +No—no! The Devil is an egotist, +And is not apt, without a why or wherefore, +“For God’s sake,” others to assist. +Speak thy conditions plain and clear! +With such a servant danger comes, I fear. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +_Here_, an unwearied slave, I’ll wear thy tether, +And to thine every nod obedient be: +When _There_ again we come together, +Then shalt thou do the same for me. + +FAUST + +The _There_ my scruples naught increases. +When thou hast dashed this world to pieces, +The other, then, its place may fill. +Here, on this earth, my pleasures have their sources; +Yon sun beholds my sorrows in his courses; +And when from these my life itself divorces, +Let happen all that can or will! +I’ll hear no more: ’tis vain to ponder +If there we cherish love or hate, +Or, in the spheres we dream of yonder, +A High and Low our souls await. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +In this sense, even, canst thou venture. +Come, bind thyself by prompt indenture, +And thou mine arts with joy shalt see: +What no man ever saw, I’ll give to thee. + +FAUST + +Canst thou, poor Devil, give me whatsoever? +When was a human soul, in its supreme endeavor, +E’er understood by such as thou? +Yet, hast thou food which never satiates, now,— +The restless, ruddy gold hast thou, +That runs, quicksilver-like, one’s fingers through,— +A game whose winnings no man ever knew,— +A maid that, even from my breast, +Beckons my neighbor with her wanton glances, +And Honor’s godlike zest, +The meteor that a moment dances,— +Show me the fruits that, ere they’re gathered, rot, +And trees that daily with new leafage clothe them! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Such a demand alarms me not: +Such treasures have I, and can show them. +But still the time may reach us, good my friend. +When peace we crave and more luxurious diet. + +FAUST + +When on an idler’s bed I stretch myself in quiet. +There let, at once, my record end! +Canst thou with lying flattery rule me, +Until, self-pleased, myself I see,— +Canst thou with rich enjoyment fool me, +Let that day be the last for me! +The bet I offer. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + Done! + +FAUST + And heartily! +When thus I hail the Moment flying: +“Ah, still delay—thou art so fair!” +Then bind me in thy bonds undying, +My final ruin then declare! +Then let the death-bell chime the token. +Then art thou from thy service free! +The clock may stop, the hand be broken, +Then Time be finished unto me! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Consider well: my memory good is rated. + +FAUST + +Thou hast a perfect right thereto. +My powers I have not rashly estimated: +A slave am I, whate’er I do— +If thine, or whose? ’tis needless to debate it. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then at the Doctors’-banquet I, to-day, +Will as a servant wait behind thee. +But one thing more! Beyond all risk to bind thee, +Give me a line or two, I pray. + +FAUST + +Demand’st thou, Pedant, too, a document? +Hast never known a man, nor proved his word’s intent? +Is’t not enough, that what I speak to-day +Shall stand, with all my future days agreeing? +In all its tides sweeps not the world away, +And shall a promise bind my being? +Yet this delusion in our hearts we bear: +Who would himself therefrom deliver? +Blest he, whose bosom Truth makes pure and fair! +No sacrifice shall he repent of ever. +Nathless a parchment, writ and stamped with care, +A spectre is, which all to shun endeavor. +The word, alas! dies even in the pen, +And wax and leather keep the lordship then. +What wilt from me, Base Spirit, say?— +Brass, marble, parchment, paper, clay? +The terms with graver, quill, or chisel, stated? +I freely leave the choice to thee. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why heat thyself, thus instantly, +With eloquence exaggerated? +Each leaf for such a pact is good; +And to subscribe thy name thou’lt take a drop of blood. + +FAUST + +If thou therewith art fully satisfied, +So let us by the farce abide. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Blood is a juice of rarest quality. + +FAUST + +Fear not that I this pact shall seek to sever? +The promise that I make to thee +Is just the sum of my endeavor. +I have myself inflated all too high; +My proper place is thy estate: +The Mighty Spirit deigns me no reply, +And Nature shuts on me her gate. +The thread of Thought at last is broken, +And knowledge brings disgust unspoken. +Let us the sensual deeps explore, +To quench the fervors of glowing passion! +Let every marvel take form and fashion +Through the impervious veil it wore! +Plunge we in Time’s tumultuous dance, +In the rush and roll of Circumstance! +Then may delight and distress, +And worry and success, +Alternately follow, as best they can: +Restless activity proves the man! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +For you no bound, no term is set. +Whether you everywhere be trying, +Or snatch a rapid bliss in flying, +May it agree with you, what you get! +Only fall to, and show no timid balking. + +FAUST + +But thou hast heard, ’tis not of joy we’re talking. +I take the wildering whirl, enjoyment’s keenest pain, +Enamored hate, exhilarant disdain. +My bosom, of its thirst for knowledge sated, +Shall not, henceforth, from any pang be wrested, +And all of life for all mankind created +Shall be within mine inmost being tested: +The highest, lowest forms my soul shall borrow, +Shall heap upon itself their bliss and sorrow, +And thus, my own sole self to all their selves expanded, +I too, at last, shall with them all be stranded! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Believe me, who for many a thousand year +The same tough meat have chewed and tested, +That from the cradle to the bier +No man the ancient leaven has digested! +Trust one of us, this Whole supernal +Is made but for a God’s delight! +_He_ dwells in splendor single and eternal, +But _us_ he thrusts in darkness, out of sight, +And _you_ he dowers with Day and Night. + +FAUST + +Nay, but I will! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A good reply! +One only fear still needs repeating: +The art is long, the time is fleeting. +Then let thyself be taught, say I! +Go, league thyself with a poet, +Give the rein to his imagination, +Then wear the crown, and show it, +Of the qualities of his creation,— +The courage of the lion’s breed, +The wild stag’s speed, +The Italian’s fiery blood, +The North’s firm fortitude! +Let him find for thee the secret tether +That binds the Noble and Mean together. +And teach thy pulses of youth and pleasure +To love by rule, and hate by measure! +I’d like, myself, such a one to see: +Sir Microcosm his name should be. + +FAUST + +What am I, then, if ’tis denied my part +The crown of all humanity to win me, +Whereto yearns every sense within me? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why, on the whole, thou’rt—what thou art. +Set wigs of million curls upon thy head, to raise thee, +Wear shoes an ell in height,—the truth betrays thee, +And thou remainest—what thou art. + +FAUST + +I feel, indeed, that I have made the treasure +Of human thought and knowledge mine, in vain; +And if I now sit down in restful leisure, +No fount of newer strength is in my brain: +I am no hair’s-breadth more in height, +Nor nearer, to the Infinite, + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Good Sir, you see the facts precisely +As they are seen by each and all. +We must arrange them now, more wisely, +Before the joys of life shall pall. +Why, Zounds! Both hands and feet are, truly— +And head and virile forces—thine: +Yet all that I indulge in newly, +Is’t thence less wholly mine? +If I’ve six stallions in my stall, +Are not their forces also lent me? +I speed along, completest man of all, +As though my legs were four-and-twenty. +Take hold, then! let reflection rest, +And plunge into the world with zest! +I say to thee, a speculative wight +Is like a beast on moorlands lean, +That round and round some fiend misleads to evil plight, +While all about lie pastures fresh and green. + +FAUST + +Then how shall we begin? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We’ll try a wider sphere. +What place of martyrdom is here! +Is’t life, I ask, is’t even prudence, +To bore thyself and bore the students? +Let Neighbor Paunch to that attend! +Why plague thyself with threshing straw forever? +The best thou learnest, in the end +Thou dar’st not tell the youngsters—never! +I hear one’s footsteps, hither steering. + +FAUST +To see him now I have no heart. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +So long the poor boy waits a hearing, +He must not unconsoled depart. +Thy cap and mantle straightway lend me! +I’ll play the comedy with art. + +(_He disguises himself_.) + +My wits, be certain, will befriend me. +But fifteen minutes’ time is all I need; +For our fine trip, meanwhile, prepare thyself with speed! + +[_Exit_ FAUST. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_In_ FAUST’S _long mantle_.) + +Reason and Knowledge only thou despise, +The highest strength in man that lies! +Let but the Lying Spirit bind thee +With magic works and shows that blind thee, +And I shall have thee fast and sure!— +Fate such a bold, untrammelled spirit gave him, +As forwards, onwards, ever must endure; +Whose over-hasty impulse drave him +Past earthly joys he might secure. +Dragged through the wildest life, will I enslave him, +Through flat and stale indifference; +With struggling, chilling, checking, so deprave him +That, to his hot, insatiate sense, +The dream of drink shall mock, but never lave him: +Refreshment shall his lips in vain implore— +Had he not made himself the Devil’s, naught could save +him, +Still were he lost forevermore! + +(_A_ STUDENT _enters_.) + +STUDENT + +A short time, only, am I here, +And come, devoted and sincere, +To greet and know the man of fame, +Whom men to me with reverence name. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Your courtesy doth flatter me: +You see a man, as others be. +Have you, perchance, elsewhere begun? + +STUDENT + +Receive me now, I pray, as one +Who comes to you with courage good, +Somewhat of cash, and healthy blood: +My mother was hardly willing to let me; +But knowledge worth having I fain would get me. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then you have reached the right place now. + +STUDENT + +I’d like to leave it, I must avow; +I find these walls, these vaulted spaces +Are anything but pleasant places. +Tis all so cramped and close and mean; +One sees no tree, no glimpse of green, +And when the lecture-halls receive me, +Seeing, hearing, and thinking leave me. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +All that depends on habitude. +So from its mother’s breasts a child +At first, reluctant, takes its food, +But soon to seek them is beguiled. +Thus, at the breasts of Wisdom clinging, +Thou’lt find each day a greater rapture bringing. + +STUDENT + +I’ll hang thereon with joy, and freely drain them; +But tell me, pray, the proper means to gain them. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Explain, before you further speak, +The special faculty you seek. + +STUDENT + +I crave the highest erudition; +And fain would make my acquisition +All that there is in Earth and Heaven, +In Nature and in Science too. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Here is the genuine path for you; +Yet strict attention must be given. + +STUDENT + +Body and soul thereon I’ll wreak; +Yet, truly, I’ve some inclination +On summer holidays to seek +A little freedom and recreation. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Use well your time! It flies so swiftly from us; +But time through order may be won, I promise. +So, Friend (my views to briefly sum), +First, the _collegium logicum_. +There will your mind be drilled and braced, +As if in Spanish boots ’twere laced, +And thus, to graver paces brought, +’Twill plod along the path of thought, +Instead of shooting here and there, +A will-o’-the-wisp in murky air. +Days will be spent to bid you know, +What once you did at a single blow, +Like eating and drinking, free and strong,— +That one, two, three! thereto belong. +Truly the fabric of mental fleece +Resembles a weaver’s masterpiece, +Where a thousand threads one treadle throws, +Where fly the shuttles hither and thither. +Unseen the threads are knit together. +And an infinite combination grows. +Then, the philosopher steps in +And shows, no otherwise it could have been: +The first was so, the second so, +Therefore the third and fourth are so; +Were not the first and second, then +The third and fourth had never been. +The scholars are everywhere believers, +But never succeed in being weavers. +He who would study organic existence, +First drives out the soul with rigid persistence; +Then the parts in his hand he may hold and class, +But the spiritual link is lost, alas! +_Encheiresin natures_, this Chemistry names, +Nor knows how herself she banters and blames! + +STUDENT + +I cannot understand you quite. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Your mind will shortly be set aright, +When you have learned, all things reducing, +To classify them for your using. + +STUDENT + +I feel as stupid, from all you’ve said, +As if a mill-wheel whirled in my head! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And after—first and foremost duty—Of +Metaphysics learn the use and beauty! +See that you most profoundly gain +What does not suit the human brain! +A splendid word to serve, you’ll find +For what goes in—or won’t go in—your mind. +But first, at least this half a year, +To order rigidly adhere; +Five hours a day, you understand, +And when the clock strikes, be on hand! +Prepare beforehand for your part +With paragraphs all got by heart, +So you can better watch, and look +That naught is said but what is in the book: +Yet in thy writing as unwearied be, +As did the Holy Ghost dictate to thee! + +STUDENT + +No need to tell me twice to do it! +I think, how useful ’tis to write; +For what one has, in black and white, +One carries home and then goes through it. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yet choose thyself a faculty! + +STUDENT + +I cannot reconcile myself to Jurisprudence. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Nor can I therefore greatly blame you students: +I know what science this has come to be. +All rights and laws are still transmitted +Like an eternal sickness of the race,— +From generation unto generation fitted, +And shifted round from place to place. +Reason becomes a sham, Beneficence a worry: +Thou art a grandchild, therefore woe to thee! +The right born with us, ours in verity, +This to consider, there’s, alas! no hurry. + +STUDENT + +My own disgust is strengthened by your speech: +O lucky he, whom you shall teach! +I’ve almost for Theology decided. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I should not wish to see you here misguided: +For, as regards this science, let me hint +’Tis very hard to shun the false direction; +There’s so much secret poison lurking in ’t, +So like the medicine, it baffles your detection. +Hear, therefore, one alone, for that is best, in sooth, +And simply take your master’s words for truth. +On _words_ let your attention centre! +Then through the safest gate you’ll enter +The temple-halls of Certainty. + +STUDENT + +Yet in the word must some idea be. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Of course! But only shun too over-sharp a tension, +For just where fails the comprehension, +A word steps promptly in as deputy. +With words ’tis excellent disputing; +Systems to words ’tis easy suiting; +On words ’tis excellent believing; +No word can ever lose a jot from thieving. + +STUDENT + +Pardon! With many questions I detain you. +Yet must I trouble you again. +Of Medicine I still would fain +Hear one strong word that might explain you. +Three years is but a little space. +And, God! who can the field embrace? +If one some index could be shown, +’Twere easier groping forward, truly. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_aside_) + +I’m tired enough of this dry tone,— +Must play the Devil again, and fully. + +(_Aloud_) + +To grasp the spirit of Medicine is easy: +Learn of the great and little world your fill, +To let it go at last, so please ye, +Just as God will! +In vain that through the realms of science you may drift; +Each one learns only—just what learn he can: +Yet he who grasps the Moment’s gift, +He is the proper man. +Well-made you are, ’tis not to be denied, +The rest a bold address will win you; +If you but in yourself confide, +At once confide all others in you. +To lead the women, learn the special feeling! +Their everlasting aches and groans, +In thousand tones, +Have all one source, one mode of healing; +And if your acts are half discreet, +You’ll always have them at your feet. +A title first must draw and interest them, +And show that yours all other arts exceeds; +Then, as a greeting, you are free to touch and test them, +While, thus to do, for years another pleads. +You press and count the pulse’s dances, +And then, with burning sidelong glances, +You clasp the swelling hips, to see +If tightly laced her corsets be. + +STUDENT + +That’s better, now! The How and Where, one sees. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My worthy friend, gray are all theories, +And green alone Life’s golden tree. + +STUDENT + +I swear to you, ’tis like a dream to me. +Might I again presume, with trust unbounded, +To hear your wisdom thoroughly expounded? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Most willingly, to what extent I may. + +STUDENT + +I cannot really go away: +Allow me that my album first I reach you,— +Grant me this favor, I beseech you! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Assuredly. + +(_He writes, and returns the book_.) + +STUDENT (_reads_) + +_Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum_. +(_Closes the book with reverence, and withdraws_) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Follow the ancient text, and the snake thou wast ordered to trample! +With all thy likeness to God, thou’lt yet be a sorry example! + +(FAUST _enters_.) + +FAUST + +Now, whither shall we go? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +As best it pleases thee. +The little world, and then the great, we’ll see. +With what delight, what profit winning, +Shalt thou sponge through the term beginning! + +FAUST + +Yet with the flowing beard I wear, +Both ease and grace will fail me there. +The attempt, indeed, were a futile strife; +I never could learn the ways of life. +I feel so small before others, and thence +Should always find embarrassments. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My friend, thou soon shalt lose all such misgiving: +Be thou but self-possessed, thou hast the art of living! + +FAUST + +How shall we leave the house, and start? +Where hast thou servant, coach and horses? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We’ll spread this cloak with proper art, +Then through the air direct our courses. +But only, on so bold a flight, +Be sure to have thy luggage light. +A little burning air, which I shall soon prepare us, +Above the earth will nimbly bear us, +And, if we’re light, we’ll travel swift and clear: +I gratulate thee on thy new career! + +[Illustration] + + + + +V + + +AUERBACH’S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG +CAROUSAL OF JOLLY COMPANIONS + +FROSCH + +Is no one laughing? no one drinking? +I’ll teach you how to grin, I’m thinking. +To-day you’re like wet straw, so tame; +And usually you’re all aflame. + +BRANDER + +Now that’s your fault; from you we nothing see, +No beastliness and no stupidity. + +FROSCH + +(_Pours a glass of wine over_ BRANDER’S _head_.) +There’s both together! + +BRANDER + +Twice a swine! + +FROSCH + +You wanted them: I’ve given you mine. + +SIEBEL + +Turn out who quarrels—out the door! +With open throat sing chorus, drink and roar! +Up! holla! ho! + +ALTMAYER + +Woe’s me, the fearful bellow! +Bring cotton, quick! He’s split my ears, that fellow. + +SIEBEL + +When the vault echoes to the song, +One first perceives the bass is deep and strong. + +FROSCH + +Well said! and out with him that takes the least offence! +_Ah, tara, lara da_! + +ALTMAYER + +_Ah, tara, lara, da_! + +FROSCH + +The throats are tuned, commence! +(_Sings_.) +_The dear old holy Roman realm, +How does it hold together_? + +BRANDER + +A nasty song! Fie! a political song— +A most offensive song! Thank God, each morning, therefore, +That you have not the Roman realm to care for! +At least, I hold it so much gain for me, +That I nor Chancellor nor Kaiser be. +Yet also we must have a ruling head, I hope, +And so we’ll choose ourselves a Pope. +You know the quality that can +Decide the choice, and elevate the man. + +FROSCH (_sings_) + + _Soar up, soar up, Dame Nightingale! + Ten thousand times my sweetheart hail!_ + +SIEBEL + +No, greet my sweetheart not! I tell you, I’ll resent it. + +FROSCH + +My sweetheart greet and kiss! I dare you to prevent it! + + (_Sings_.) + + _Draw the latch! the darkness makes: + Draw the latch! the lover wakes. + Shut the latch! the morning breaks_. + +SIEBEL + +Yes, sing away, sing on, and praise, and brag of her! +I’ll wait my proper time for laughter: +Me by the nose she led, and now she’ll lead you after. +Her paramour should be an ugly gnome, +Where four roads cross, in wanton play to meet her: +An old he-goat, from Blocksberg coming home, +Should his good-night in lustful gallop bleat her! +A fellow made of genuine flesh and blood +Is for the wench a deal too good. +Greet her? Not I: unless, when meeting, +To smash her windows be a greeting! + +BRANDER (_pounding on the table_) + +Attention! Hearken now to me! +Confess, Sirs, I know how to live. +Enamored persons here have we, +And I, as suits their quality, +Must something fresh for their advantage give. +Take heed! ’Tis of the latest cut, my strain, +And all strike in at each refrain! + + (_He sings_.) + + There was a rat in the cellar-nest, + Whom fat and butter made smoother: + He had a paunch beneath his vest + Like that of Doctor Luther. + The cook laid poison cunningly, + And then as sore oppressed was he + As if he had love in his bosom. + + CHORUS (_shouting_) + + As if he had love in his bosom! + + BRANDER + + He ran around, he ran about, + His thirst in puddles laving; + He gnawed and scratched the house throughout. + But nothing cured his raving. + He whirled and jumped, with torment mad, + And soon enough the poor beast had, + As if he had love in his bosom. + + CHORUS + + As if he had love in his bosom! + + BRANDER + + And driven at last, in open day, + He ran into the kitchen, + Fell on the hearth, and squirming lay, + In the last convulsion twitching. + Then laughed the murderess in her glee: + “Ha! ha! he’s at his last gasp,” said she, + “As if he had love in his bosom!” + +CHORUS + + As if he had love in his bosom! + +SIEBEL + +How the dull fools enjoy the matter! +To me it is a proper art +Poison for such poor rats to scatter. + +BRANDER + +Perhaps you’ll warmly take their part? + +ALTMAYER + +The bald-pate pot-belly I have noted: +Misfortune tames him by degrees; +For in the rat by poison bloated +His own most natural form he sees. + +FAUST AND MEPHISTOPHELES + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Before all else, I bring thee hither +Where boon companions meet together, +To let thee see how smooth life runs away. +Here, for the folk, each day’s a holiday: +With little wit, and ease to suit them, +They whirl in narrow, circling trails, +Like kittens playing with their tails? +And if no headache persecute them, +So long the host may credit give, +They merrily and careless live. + +BRANDER + +The fact is easy to unravel, +Their air’s so odd, they’ve just returned from travel: +A single hour they’ve not been here. + +FROSCH + +You’ve verily hit the truth! Leipzig to me is dear: +Paris in miniature, how it refines its people! + +SIEBEL + +Who are the strangers, should you guess? + +FROSCH + +Let me alone! I’ll set them first to drinking, +And then, as one a child’s tooth draws, with cleverness, +I’ll worm their secret out, I’m thinking. +They’re of a noble house, that’s very clear: +Haughty and discontented they appear. + +BRANDER + +They’re mountebanks, upon a revel. + +ALTMAYER + +Perhaps. + +FROSCH + +Look out, I’ll smoke them now! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Not if he had them by the neck, I vow, +Would e’er these people scent the Devil! + +FAUST +Fair greeting, gentlemen! + +SIEBEL + +Our thanks: we give the same. +(_Murmurs, inspecting_ MEPHISTOPHELES _from the side_.) +In one foot is the fellow lame? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Is it permitted that we share your leisure? +In place of cheering drink, which one seeks vainly here, +Your company shall give us pleasure. + +ALTMAYER + +A most fastidious person you appear. + + +FROSCH + +No doubt ’twas late when you from Rippach started? +And supping there with Hans occasioned your delay? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We passed, without a call, to-day. +At our last interview, before we parted +Much of his cousins did he speak, entreating +That we should give to each his kindly greeting. + +(_He bows to_ FROSCH.) + +ALTMAYER (_aside_) + +You have it now! he understands. + +SIEBEL + +A knave sharp-set! + +FROSCH + +Just wait awhile: I’ll have him yet. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +If I am right, we heard the sound +Of well-trained voices, singing chorus; +And truly, song must here rebound +Superbly from the arches o’er us. + +FROSCH + +Are you, perhaps, a virtuoso? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O no! my wish is great, my power is only so-so. + +ALTMAYER + +Give us a song! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +If you desire, a number. + +SIEBEL + +So that it be a bran-new strain! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We’ve just retraced our way from. Spain, +The lovely land of wine, and song, and slumber. + +(_Sings_.) + +There was a king once reigning, +Who had a big black flea— + +FROSCH + +Hear, hear! A flea! D’ye rightly take the jest? +I call a flea a tidy guest. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_sings_) + + There was a king once reigning, + Who had a big black flea, + And loved him past explaining, + As his own son were he. + He called his man of stitches; + The tailor came straightway: + Here, measure the lad for breeches. + And measure his coat, I say! + +BRANDER + +But mind, allow the tailor no caprices: +Enjoin upon him, as his head is dear, +To most exactly measure, sew and shear, +So that the breeches have no creases! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + In silk and velvet gleaming + He now was wholly drest— + Had a coat with ribbons streaming, + A cross upon his breast. + He had the first of stations, + A minister’s star and name; + And also all his relations + Great lords at court became. + + And the lords and ladies of honor + Were plagued, awake and in bed; + The queen she got them upon her, + The maids were bitten and bled. + And they did not dare to brush them, + Or scratch them, day or night: + We crack them and we crush them, + At once, whene’er they bite. + + CHORUS (_shouting_) + + We crack them and we crush them, + At once, whene’er they bite! + +FROSCH +Bravo! bravo! that was fine. + +SIEBEL + +Every flea may it so befall! + +BRANDER + +Point your fingers and nip them all! + +ALTMAYER + +Hurrah for Freedom! Hurrah for wine! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I fain would drink with you, my glass to Freedom clinking, +If ’twere a better wine that here I see you drinking. + +SIEBEL + +Don’t let us hear that speech again! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Did I not fear the landlord might complain, +I’d treat these worthy guests, with pleasure, +To some from out our cellar’s treasure. + +SIEBEL + +Just treat, and let the landlord me arraign! + +FROSCH + +And if the wine be good, our praises shall be ample. +But do not give too very small a sample; +For, if its quality I decide, +With a good mouthful I must be supplied. + +ALTMAYER (_aside_) + +They’re from the Rhine! I guessed as much, before. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Bring me a gimlet here! + +BRANDER + +What shall therewith be done? +You’ve not the casks already at the door? + +ALTMAYER + +Yonder, within the landlord’s box of tools, there’s one! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_takes the gimlet_) + +(_To_ FROSCH.) + +Now, give me of your taste some intimation. + +FROSCH + +How do you mean? Have you so many kinds? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The choice is free: make up your minds. + +ALTMAYER (_to_ FROSCH) + +Aha! you lick your chops, from sheer anticipation. + +FROSCH + +Good! if I have the choice, so let the wine be Rhenish! +Our Fatherland can best the sparkling cup replenish. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_boring a hole in the edge of the table, at the place where_ +FROSCH _sits_) + +Get me a little wax, to make the stoppers, quick! + +ALTMAYER + +Ah! I perceive a juggler’s trick. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ BRANDER) + +And you? + +BRANDER + +Champagne shall be my wine, +And let it sparkle fresh and fine! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_bores: in the meantime one has made the wax stoppers, and +plugged the holes with them_.) + +BRANDER + +What’s foreign one can’t always keep quite clear of, +For good things, oft, are not so near; +A German can’t endure the French to see or hear of, +Yet drinks their wines with hearty cheer. + +SIEBEL + +(_as_ MEPHISTOPHELES _approaches his seat_) +For me, I grant, sour wine is out of place; +Fill up my glass with sweetest, will you? + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_boring_) + +Tokay shall flow at once, to fill you! + +ALTMAYER + +No—look me, Sirs, straight in the face! +I see you have your fun at our expense. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O no! with gentlemen of such pretence, +That were to venture far, indeed. +Speak out, and make your choice with speed! +With what a vintage can I serve you? + +ALTMAYER + +With any—only satisfy our need. + +(_After the holes have been bored and plugged_) + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_with singular gestures_) + + Grapes the vine-stem bears, + Horns the he-goat wears! + The grapes are juicy, the vines are wood, + The wooden table gives wine as good! + Into the depths of Nature peer,— + Only believe there’s a miracle here! + +Now draw the stoppers, and drink your fill! + +ALL + +(_as they draw out the stoppers, and the wine which has been +desired flows into the glass of each)_ + +O beautiful fountain, that flows at will! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But have a care that you nothing spill! + +(_They drink repeatedly_.) + +ALL (_sing_) + + As ’twere five hundred hogs, we feel + So cannibalic jolly! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +See, now, the race is happy—it is free! + +FAUST + +To leave them is my inclination. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Take notice, first! their bestiality +Will make a brilliant demonstration. + +SIEBEL + +(_drinks carelessly: the wine spills upon the earth, and turns to +flame_) + +Help! Fire! Help! Hell-fire is sent! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_charming away the flame)_ + +Be quiet, friendly element! + +(_To the revellers_) + +A bit of purgatory ’twas for this time, merely. + +SIEBEL + +What mean you? Wait!—you’ll pay for’t dearly! +You’ll know us, to your detriment. + +FROSCH + +Don’t try that game a second time upon us! + +ALTMAYER + +I think we’d better send him packing quietly. + +SIEBEL + +What, Sir! you dare to make so free, +And play your hocus-pocus on us! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Be still, old wine-tub. + +SIEBEL + +Broomstick, you! +You face it out, impertinent and heady? + +BRANDER + +Just wait! a shower of blows is ready. + +ALTMAYER + +(_draws a stopper out of the table: fire flies in his face_.) +I burn! I burn! + +SIEBEL + +’Tis magic! Strike— +The knave is outlawed! Cut him as you like! +(_They draw their knives, and rush upon_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_with solemn gestures_) + + False word and form of air, + Change place, and sense ensnare! + Be here—and there! + +(_They stand amazed and look at each other_.) + +ALTMAYER + +Where am I? What a lovely land! + +FROSCH + +Vines? Can I trust my eyes? + +SIEBEL + +And purple grapes at hand! + +BRANDER + +Here, over this green arbor bending, +See what a vine! what grapes depending! + +(_He takes_ SIEBEL _by the nose: the others do the same reciprocally, +and raise their knives_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_as above_) + +Loose, Error, from their eyes the band, +And how the Devil jests, be now enlightened! + +(_He disappears with_ FAUST: _the revellers start and separate_.) + +SIEBEL + +What happened? + +ALTMAYER + +How? + +FROSCH + +Was that your nose I tightened? + +BRANDER (_to_ SIEBEL) + +And yours that still I have in hand? + +ALTMAYER + +It was a blow that went through every limb! +Give me a chair! I sink! my senses swim. + +FROSCH + +But what has happened, tell me now? + +SIEBEL + +Where is he? If I catch the scoundrel hiding, +He shall not leave alive, I vow. + +ALTMAYER + +I saw him with these eyes upon a wine-cask riding +Out of the cellar-door, just now. +Still in my feet the fright like lead is weighing. +(_He turns towards the table_.) +Why! If the fount of wine should still be playing? + +SIEBEL + +’Twas all deceit, and lying, false design! + +FROSCH + +And yet it seemed as I were drinking wine. + +BRANDER + +But with the grapes how was it, pray? + +ALTMAYER + +Shall one believe no miracles, just say! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +VI + + +WITCHES’ KITCHEN + +(_Upon a low hearth stands a great caldron, under which a fire +is burning. Various figures appear in the vapors which +rise from the caldron. An ape sits beside it, skims it, and +watches lest it boil over. The he-ape, with the young +ones, sits near and warms himself. Ceiling and walls are +covered with the most fantastic witch-implements_.) + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +These crazy signs of witches’ craft repel me! +I shall recover, dost thou tell me, +Through this insane, chaotic play? +From an old hag shall I demand assistance? +And will her foul mess take away +Full thirty years from my existence? +Woe’s me, canst thou naught better find! +Another baffled hope must be lamented: +Has Nature, then, and has a noble mind +Not any potent balsam yet invented? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Once more, my friend, thou talkest sensibly. +There is, to make thee young, a simpler mode and apter; +But in another book ’tis writ for thee, +And is a most eccentric chapter. + +FAUST + +Yet will I know it. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Good! the method is revealed +Without or gold or magic or physician. +Betake thyself to yonder field, +There hoe and dig, as thy condition; +Restrain thyself, thy sense and will +Within a narrow sphere to flourish; +With unmixed food thy body nourish; +Live with the ox as ox, and think it not a theft +That thou manur’st the acre which thou reapest;— +That, trust me, is the best mode left, +Whereby for eighty years thy youth thou keepest! + +FAUST + +I am not used to that; I cannot stoop to try it— +To take the spade in hand, and ply it. +The narrow being suits me not at all. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then to thine aid the witch must call. + +FAUST + +Wherefore the hag, and her alone? +Canst thou thyself not brew the potion? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That were a charming sport, I own: +I’d build a thousand bridges meanwhile, I’ve a notion. +Not Art and Science serve, alone; +Patience must in the work be shown. +Long is the calm brain active in creation; +Time, only, strengthens the fine fermentation. +And all, belonging thereunto, +Is rare and strange, howe’er you take it: +The Devil taught the thing, ’tis true, +And yet the Devil cannot make it. +(_Perceiving the Animals_) +See, what a delicate race they be! +That is the maid! the man is he! +(_To the Animals_) +It seems the mistress has gone away? + +THE ANIMALS + +Carousing, to-day! +Off and about, +By the chimney out! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What time takes she for dissipating? + +THE ANIMALS + +While we to warm our paws are waiting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +How findest thou the tender creatures? + +FAUST + +Absurder than I ever yet did see. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why, just such talk as this, for me, +Is that which has the most attractive features! + +(_To the Animals_) + +But tell me now, ye cursed puppets, +Why do ye stir the porridge so? + +THE ANIMALS + +We’re cooking watery soup for beggars. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then a great public you can show. + +THE HE-APE + +(_comes up and fawns on_ MEPHISTOPHELES) + + O cast thou the dice! + Make me rich in a trice, + Let me win in good season! + Things are badly controlled, + And had I but gold, + So had I my reason. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +How would the ape be sure his luck enhances. +Could he but try the lottery’s chances! + +(_In the meantime the young apes have been playing with a +large ball, which they now roll forward_.) + +THE HE-APE + + The world’s the ball: + Doth rise and fall, + And roll incessant: + Like glass doth ring, + A hollow thing,— + How soon will’t spring, + And drop, quiescent? + Here bright it gleams, + Here brighter seems: + I live at present! + Dear son, I say, + Keep thou away! + Thy doom is spoken! + ’Tis made of clay, + And will be broken. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What means the sieve? + +THE HE-APE (_taking it down_) + + Wert thou the thief, + I’d know him and shame him. + +(_He runs to the_ SHE-APE, _and lets her look through it_.) + + Look through the sieve! + Know’st thou the thief, + And darest not name him? + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_approaching the fire)_ + +And what’s this pot? + +HE-APE AND SHE-APE + + The fool knows it not! + He knows not the pot, + He knows not the kettle! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Impertinent beast! + +THE HE-APE + +Take the brush here, at least, +And sit down on the settle! + +(_He invites_ MEPHISTOPHELES _to sit down_.) + +FAUST + +(_who during all this time has been standing before a mirror, +now approaching and now retreating from it_) + +What do I see? What heavenly form revealed +Shows through the glass from Magic’s fair dominions! +O lend me, Love, the swiftest of thy pinions, +And bear me to her beauteous field! +Ah, if I leave this spot with fond designing, +If I attempt to venture near, +Dim, as through gathering mist, her charms appear!— +A woman’s form, in beauty shining! +Can woman, then, so lovely be? +And must I find her body, there reclining, +Of all the heavens the bright epitome? +Can Earth with such a thing be mated? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why, surely, if a God first plagues Himself six days, +Then, self-contented, _Bravo_! says, +Must something clever be created. +This time, thine eyes be satiate! +I’ll yet detect thy sweetheart and ensnare her, +And blest is he, who has the lucky fate, +Some day, as bridegroom, home to bear her. + +(FAUST _gazes continually in the mirror_. MEPHISTOPHELES, +_stretching himself out on the settle, and playing with the +brush, continues to speak_.) + +So sit I, like the King upon his throne: +I hold the sceptre, here,—and lack the crown alone. + +THE ANIMALS + +(_who up to this time have been making all kinds of fantastic +movements together bring a crown to_ MEPHISTOPHELES +_with great noise_.) + + O be thou so good + With sweat and with blood + The crown to belime! + +(_They handle the crown awkwardly and break it into two +pieces, with which they spring around_.) + + ’Tis done, let it be! + We speak and we see, + We hear and we rhyme! + +FAUST (_before the mirror_) + +Woe’s me! I fear to lose my wits. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_pointing to the Animals_) + +My own head, now, is really nigh to sinking. + +THE ANIMALS + + If lucky our hits, + And everything fits, + ’Tis thoughts, and we’re thinking! + +FAUST (_as above_) + +My bosom burns with that sweet vision; +Let us, with speed, away from here! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_in the same attitude_) + +One must, at least, make this admission— +They’re poets, genuine and sincere. + +(_The caldron, which the_ SHE-APE _has up to this time neglected +to watch, begins to boil over: there ensues a great flame_, +_which blazes out the chimney. The_ WITCH _comes careering +down through the flame, with terrible cries_.) + +THE WITCH + + Ow! ow! ow! ow! + The damnéd beast—the curséd sow! + To leave the kettle, and singe the Frau! + Accurséd fere! + +(_Perceiving_ FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) + + What is that here? + Who are you here? + What want you thus? + Who sneaks to us? + The fire-pain + Burn bone and brain! + +(_She plunges the skimming-ladle into the caldron, and scatters +flames towards_ FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, _and the Animals. +The Animals whimper_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_reversing the brush, which he has been holding in his hand, +and striding among the jars and glasses_) + + In two! in two! + There lies the brew! + There lies the glass! + The joke will pass, + As time, foul ass! + To the singing of thy crew. + +(_As the_ WITCH _starts back, full of wrath and horror_) + +Ha! know’st thou me? Abomination, thou! +Know’st thou, at last, thy Lord and Master? +What hinders me from smiting now +Thee and thy monkey-sprites with fell disaster? +Hast for the scarlet coat no reverence? +Dost recognize no more the tall cock’s-feather? +Have I concealed this countenance?— +Must tell my name, old face of leather? + +THE WITCH + +O pardon, Sir, the rough salute! +Yet I perceive no cloven foot; +And both your ravens, where are _they_ now? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +This time, I’ll let thee ’scape the debt; +For since we two together met, +’Tis verily full many a day now. +Culture, which smooth the whole world licks, +Also unto the Devil sticks. +The days of that old Northern phantom now are over: +Where canst thou horns and tail and claws discover? +And, as regards the foot, which I can’t spare, in truth, +’Twould only make the people shun me; +Therefore I’ve worn, like many a spindly youth, +False calves these many years upon me. + +THE WITCH (_dancing_) + +Reason and sense forsake my brain, +Since I behold Squire Satan here again! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Woman, from such a name refrain! + +THE WITCH + +Why so? What has it done to thee? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +It’s long been written in the Book of Fable; +Yet, therefore, no whit better men we see: +The Evil One has left, the evil ones are stable. +Sir Baron call me thou, then is the matter good; +A cavalier am I, like others in my bearing. +Thou hast no doubt about my noble blood: +See, here’s the coat-of-arms that I am wearing! + +(_He makes an indecent gesture_.) + +THE WITCH (_laughs immoderately_) + +Ha! ha! That’s just your way, I know: +A rogue you are, and you were always so. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +My friend, take proper heed, I pray! +To manage witches, this is just the way. + +THE WITCH + +Wherein, Sirs, can I be of use? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Give us a goblet of the well-known juice! +But, I must beg you, of the oldest brewage; +The years a double strength produce. + +THE WITCH + +With all my heart! Now, here’s a bottle, +Wherefrom, sometimes, I wet my throttle, +Which, also, not the slightest, stinks; +And willingly a glass I’ll fill him. + +(_Whispering_) + +Yet, if this man without due preparation drinks, +As well thou know’st, within an hour ’twill kill him. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +He is a friend of mine, with whom it will agree, +And he deserves thy kitchen’s best potation: +Come, draw thy circle, speak thine adjuration, +And fill thy goblet full and free! + +THE WITCH + +(_with fantastic gestures draws a circle and places mysterious +articles therein; meanwhile the glasses begin to ring, the +caldron to sound, and make a musical accompaniment. +Finally she brings a great book, and stations in the circle +the Apes, who are obliged to serve as reading-desk, and to +hold the torches. She then beckons_ FAUST _to approach_.) + +FAUST (_to_ MEPHISTOPHELES) + +Now, what shall come of this? the creatures antic, +The crazy stuff, the gestures frantic,— +All the repulsive cheats I view,— +Are known to me, and hated, too. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O, nonsense! That’s a thing for laughter; +Don’t be so terribly severe! +She juggles you as doctor now, that, after, +The beverage may work the proper cheer. + +(_He persuades_ FAUST _to step into the circle_.) + +THE WITCH + +(_begins to declaim, with much emphasis, from the book_) + + See, thus it’s done! + Make ten of one, + And two let be, + Make even three, + And rich thou ’It be. + Cast o’er the four! + From five and six + (The witch’s tricks) + Make seven and eight, + ’Tis finished straight! + And nine is one, + And ten is none. + This is the witch’s once-one’s-one! + +FAUST + +She talks like one who raves in fever. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Thou’lt hear much more before we leave her. +’Tis all the same: the book I can repeat, +Such time I’ve squandered o’er the history: +A contradiction thus complete +Is always for the wise, no less than fools, a mystery. +The art is old and new, for verily +All ages have been taught the matter,— +By Three and One, and One and Three, +Error instead of Truth to scatter. +They prate and teach, and no one interferes; +All from the fellowship of fools are shrinking. +Man usually believes, if only words he hears, +That also with them goes material for thinking! + +THE WITCH (_continues_) + + The lofty skill + Of Science, still + From all men deeply hidden! + Who takes no thought, + To him ’tis brought, + ’Tis given unsought, unbidden! + +FAUST + +What nonsense she declaims before us! +My head is nigh to split, I fear: +It seems to me as if I hear +A hundred thousand fools in chorus. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O Sibyl excellent, enough of adjuration! +But hither bring us thy potation, +And quickly fill the beaker to the brim! +This drink will bring my friend no injuries: +He is a man of manifold degrees, +And many draughts are known to him. + +(_The_ WITCH, _with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a +cup; as_ FAUST _sets it to his lips, a light flame arises_.) + +Down with it quickly! Drain it off! +’Twill warm thy heart with new desire: +Art with the Devil hand and glove, +And wilt thou be afraid of fire? + +(_The_ WITCH _breaks the circle_: FAUST _steps forth_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And now, away! Thou dar’st not rest. + +THE WITCH + +And much good may the liquor do thee! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to the_ WITCH) + +Thy wish be on Walpurgis Night expressed; +What boon I have, shall then be given unto thee. + +THE WITCH + +Here is a song, which, if you sometimes sing, +You’ll find it of peculiar operation. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Come, walk at once! A rapid occupation +Must start the needful perspiration, +And through thy frame the liquor’s potence fling. +The noble indolence I’ll teach thee then to treasure, +And soon thou’lt be aware, with keenest thrills of pleasure, +How Cupid stirs and leaps, on light and restless wing. + +FAUST + +One rapid glance within the mirror give me, +How beautiful that woman-form! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No, no! The paragon of all, believe me, +Thou soon shalt see, alive and warm. + +_(Aside)_ + +Thou’lt find, this drink thy blood compelling, +Each woman beautiful as Helen! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +VII + + +STREET + +FAUST MARGARET _(passing by)_ + +FAUST + +Fair lady, let it not offend you, +That arm and escort I would lend you! + +MARGARET + +I’m neither lady, neither fair, +And home I can go without your care. + +[_She releases herself, and exit_. + +FAUST + +By Heaven, the girl is wondrous fair! +Of all I’ve seen, beyond compare; +So sweetly virtuous and pure, +And yet a little pert, be sure! +The lip so red, the cheek’s clear dawn, +[Illustration:] +I’ll not forget while the world rolls on! +How she cast down her timid eyes, +Deep in my heart imprinted lies: +How short and sharp of speech was she, +Why, ’twas a real ecstasy! + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_) + +FAUST + +Hear, of that girl I’d have possession! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Which, then? + +FAUST + +The one who just went by. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +She, there? She’s coming from confession, +Of every sin absolved; for I, +Behind her chair, was listening nigh. +So innocent is she, indeed, +That to confess she had no need. +I have no power o’er souls so green. + +FAUST + +And yet, she’s older than fourteen. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +How now! You’re talking like Jack Rake, +Who every flower for himself would take, +And fancies there are no favors more, +Nor honors, save for him in store; +Yet always doesn’t the thing succeed. + +FAUST + +Most Worthy Pedagogue, take heed! +Let not a word of moral law be spoken! +I claim, I tell thee, all my right; +And if that image of delight +Rest not within mine arms to-night, +At midnight is our compact broken. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But think, the chances of the case! +I need, at least, a fortnight’s space, +To find an opportune occasion. + +FAUST + +Had I but seven hours for all, +I should not on the Devil call, +But win her by my own persuasion. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +You almost like a Frenchman prate; +Yet, pray, don’t take it as annoyance! +Why, all at once, exhaust the joyance? +Your bliss is by no means so great +As if you’d use, to get control, +All sorts of tender rigmarole, +And knead and shape her to your thought, +As in Italian tales ’tis taught. + +FAUST + +Without that, I have appetite. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But now, leave jesting out of sight! +I tell you, once for all, that speed +With this fair girl will not succeed; +By storm she cannot captured be; +We must make use of strategy. + +FAUST + +Get me something the angel keeps! +Lead me thither where she sleeps! +Get me a kerchief from her breast,— +A garter that her knee has pressed! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That you may see how much I’d fain +Further and satisfy your pain, +We will no longer lose a minute; +I’ll find her room to-day, and take you in it. + +FAUST + +And shall I see—possess her? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No! +Unto a neighbor she must go, +And meanwhile thou, alone, mayst glow +With every hope of future pleasure, +Breathing her atmosphere in fullest measure. + +FAUST + +Can we go thither? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +’Tis too early yet. + +FAUST + +A gift for her I bid thee get! +[_Exit_. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Presents at once? That’s good: he’s certain to get at her! +Full many a pleasant place I know, +And treasures, buried long ago: +I must, perforce, look up the matter. _[Exit_. +[Illustration] + + + + +VIII + + +EVENING A SMALL, NEATLY KEPT CHAMBER + +MARGARET + +(_plaiting and binding up the braids of her hair_) + +I’d something give, could I but say +Who was that gentleman, to-day. +Surely a gallant man was he, +And of a noble family; +And much could I in his face behold,— +And he wouldn’t, else, have been so bold! + + [_Exit_ + +MEPHISTOPHELES FAUST + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Come in, but gently: follow me! + +FAUST (_after a moment’s silence_) + +Leave me alone, I beg of thee! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_prying about_) + +Not every girl keeps things so neat. + +FAUST (_looking around_) + +O welcome, twilight soft and sweet, +That breathes throughout this hallowed shrine! +Sweet pain of love, bind thou with fetters fleet +The heart that on the dew of hope must pine! +How all around a sense impresses +Of quiet, order, and content! +This poverty what bounty blesses! +What bliss within this narrow den is pent! + +(_He throws himself into a leathern arm-chair near the bed_.) + +Receive me, thou, that in thine open arms +Departed joy and pain wert wont to gather! +How oft the children, with their ruddy charms, +Hung here, around this throne, where sat the father! +Perchance my love, amid the childish band, +Grateful for gifts the Holy Christmas gave her, +Here meekly kissed the grandsire’s withered hand. +I feel, O maid! thy very soul +Of order and content around me whisper,— +Which leads thee with its motherly control, +The cloth upon thy board bids smoothly thee unroll, +The sand beneath thy feet makes whiter, crisper. +O dearest hand, to thee ’tis given +To change this hut into a lower heaven! +And here! + +(_He lifts one of the bed-curtains_.) + +What sweetest thrill is in my blood! +Here could I spend whole hours, delaying: +Here Nature shaped, as if in sportive playing, +The angel blossom from the bud. +Here lay the child, with Life’s warm essence +The tender bosom filled and fair, +And here was wrought, through holier, purer presence, +The form diviner beings wear! + +And I? What drew me here with power? +How deeply am I moved, this hour! +What seek I? Why so full my heart, and sore? +Miserable Faust! I know thee now no more. + +Is there a magic vapor here? +I came, with lust of instant pleasure, +And lie dissolved in dreams of love’s sweet leisure! +Are we the sport of every changeful atmosphere? + +And if, this moment, came she in to me, +How would I for the fault atonement render! +How small the giant lout would be, +Prone at her feet, relaxed and tender! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Be quick! I see her there, returning. + +FAUST + +Go! go! I never will retreat. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Here is a casket, not unmeet, +Which elsewhere I have just been earning. +Here, set it in the press, with haste! +I swear, ’twill turn her head, to spy it: +Some baubles I therein had placed, +That you might win another by it. +True, child is child, and play is play. + +FAUST + +I know not, should I do it? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Ask you, pray? +Yourself, perhaps, would keep the bubble? +Then I suggest, ’twere fair and just +To spare the lovely day your lust, +And spare to me the further trouble. +You are not miserly, I trust? +I rub my hands, in expectation tender— + +(_He places the casket in the press, and locks it again_.) + +Now quick, away! +The sweet young maiden to betray, +So that by wish and will you bend her; +And you look as though +To the lecture-hall you were forced to go,— +As if stood before you, gray and loath, +Physics and Metaphysics both! +But away! [_Exeunt_. + +MARGARET (_with a lamp_) + +It is so close, so sultry, here! + +(_She opens the window_) + +And yet ’tis not so warm outside. +I feel, I know not why, such fear!— +Would mother came!—where can she bide? +My body’s chill and shuddering,— +I’m but a silly, fearsome thing! + +(_She begins to sing while undressing_) + + There was a King in Thule, + Was faithful till the grave,— + To whom his mistress, dying, + A golden goblet gave. + + Naught was to him more precious; + He drained it at every bout: + His eyes with tears ran over, + As oft as he drank thereout. + + When came his time of dying, + The towns in his land he told, + Naught else to his heir denying + Except the goblet of gold. + + He sat at the royal banquet + With his knights of high degree, + In the lofty hall of his fathers + In the Castle by the Sea. + + There stood the old carouser, + And drank the last life-glow; + And hurled the hallowed goblet + Into the tide below. + + He saw it plunging and filling, + And sinking deep in the sea: + Then fell his eyelids forever, + And never more drank he! + +(_She opens the press in order to arrange her clothes, and perceives +the casket of jewels_.) + +How comes that lovely casket here to me? +I locked the press, most certainly. +’Tis truly wonderful! What can within it be? +Perhaps ’twas brought by some one as a pawn, +And mother gave a loan thereon? +And here there hangs a key to fit: +I have a mind to open it. +What is that? God in Heaven! Whence came +Such things? Never beheld I aught so fair! +Rich ornaments, such as a noble dame +On highest holidays might wear! +How would the pearl-chain suit my hair? +Ah, who may all this splendor own? + +(_She adorns herself with the jewelry, and steps before the +mirror_.) + +Were but the ear-rings mine, alone! +One has at once another air. +What helps one’s beauty, youthful blood? +One may possess them, well and good; +But none the more do others care. +They praise us half in pity, sure: +To gold still tends, +On gold depends +All, all! Alas, we poor! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +IX + + +PROMENADE + +(FAUST, _walking thoughtfully up and down. To him_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +By all love ever rejected! By hell-fire hot and unsparing! +I wish I knew something worse, that I might use it for +swearing! + +FAUST + +What ails thee? What is’t gripes thee, elf? +A face like thine beheld I never. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I would myself unto the Devil deliver, +If I were not a Devil myself! + +FAUST + +Thy head is out of order, sadly: +It much becomes thee to be raving madly. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Just think, the pocket of a priest should get +The trinkets left for Margaret! +The mother saw them, and, instanter, +A secret dread began to haunt her. +Keen scent has she for tainted air; +She snuffs within her book of prayer, +And smells each article, to see +If sacred or profane it be; +So here she guessed, from every gem, +That not much blessing came with them. +“My child,” she said, “ill-gotten good +Ensnares the soul, consumes the blood. +Before the Mother of God we’ll lay it; +With heavenly manna she’ll repay it!” +But Margaret thought, with sour grimace, +“A gift-horse is not out of place, +And, truly! godless cannot be +The one who brought such things to me.” +A parson came, by the mother bidden: +He saw, at once, where the game was hidden, +And viewed it with a favor stealthy. +He spake: “That is the proper view,— +Who overcometh, winneth too. +The Holy Church has a stomach healthy: +Hath eaten many a land as forfeit, +And never yet complained of surfeit: +The Church alone, beyond all question, +Has for ill-gotten goods the right digestion.” + +FAUST + +A general practice is the same, +Which Jew and King may also claim. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then bagged the spangles, chains, and rings, +As if but toadstools were the things, +And thanked no less, and thanked no more +Than if a sack of nuts he bore,— +Promised them fullest heavenly pay, +And deeply edified were they. + +FAUST + +And Margaret? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Sits unrestful still, +And knows not what she should, or will; +Thinks on the jewels, day and night, +But more on him who gave her such delight. + +FAUST + +The darling’s sorrow gives me pain. +Get thou a set for her again! +The first was not a great display. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O yes, the gentleman finds it all child’s-play! + +FAUST + +Fix and arrange it to my will; +And on her neighbor try thy skill! +Don’t be a Devil stiff as paste, +But get fresh jewels to her taste! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, gracious Sir, in all obedience! + +[_Exit_ FAUST. + +Such an enamored fool in air would blow +Sun, moon, and all the starry legions, +To give his sweetheart a diverting show. + +[_Exit_. + +[Illustration] + + + + +X + + +THE NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE + +MARTHA (_solus_) + +God forgive my husband, yet he +Hasn’t done his duty by me! +Off in the world he went straightway,— +Left me lie in the straw where I lay. +And, truly, I did naught to fret him: +God knows I loved, and can’t forget him! + +(_She weeps_.) + +Perhaps he’s even dead! Ah, woe!— +Had I a certificate to show! + +MARGARET (_comes_) + +Dame Martha! + +MARTHA + +Margaret! what’s happened thee? + +MARGARET + +I scarce can stand, my knees are trembling! +I find a box, the first resembling, +Within my press! Of ebony,— +And things, all splendid to behold, +And richer far than were the old. + +MARTHA + +You mustn’t tell it to your mother! +’Twould go to the priest, as did the other. + +MARGARET + +Ah, look and see—just look and see! + +MARTHA (_adorning her_) + +O, what a blessed luck for thee! + +MARGARET + +But, ah! in the streets I dare not bear them, +Nor in the church be seen to wear them. + +MARTHA + +Yet thou canst often this way wander, +And secretly the jewels don, +Walk up and down an hour, before the mirror yonder,— +We’ll have our private joy thereon. +And then a chance will come, a holiday, +When, piece by piece, can one the things abroad display, +A chain at first, then other ornament: +Thy mother will not see, and stories we’ll invent. + +MARGARET + +Whoever could have brought me things so precious? +That something’s wrong, I feel suspicious. + +(_A knock_) + +Good Heaven! My mother can that have been? + +MARTHA (_peeping through the blind_) + +’Tis some strange gentleman.—Come in! + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_.) + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That I so boldly introduce me, +I beg you, ladies, to excuse me. + +(_Steps back reverently, on seeing_ MARGARET.) + +For Martha Schwerdtlein I’d inquire! + + +MARTHA + +I’m she: what does the gentleman desire? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_aside to her_) + +It is enough that you are she: +You’ve a visitor of high degree. +Pardon the freedom I have ta’en,— +Will after noon return again. + + +MARTHA (_aloud_) + +Of all things in the world! Just hear— +He takes thee for a lady, dear! + + +MARGARET + +I am a creature young and poor: +The gentleman’s too kind, I’m sure. +The jewels don’t belong to me. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Ah, not alone the jewelry! +The look, the manner, both betray— +Rejoiced am I that I may stay! + + +MARTHA + +What is your business? I would fain— + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I would I had a more cheerful strain! +Take not unkindly its repeating: +Your husband’s dead, and sends a greeting. + + +MARTHA + +Is dead? Alas, that heart so true! +My husband dead! Let me die, too! + + +MARGARET + +Ah, dearest dame, let not your courage fail! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Hear me relate the mournful tale! + + +MARGARET + +Therefore I’d never love, believe me! +A loss like this to death would grieve me. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Joy follows woe, woe after joy comes flying. + + +MARTHA + +Relate his life’s sad close to me! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +In Padua buried, he is lying +Beside the good Saint Antony, +Within a grave well consecrated, +For cool, eternal rest created. + + +MARTHA + +He gave you, further, no commission? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, one of weight, with many sighs: +Three hundred masses buy, to save him from perdition! +My hands are empty, otherwise. + + +MARTHA + +What! Not a pocket-piece? no jewelry? +What every journeyman within his wallet spares, +And as a token with him bears, +And rather starves or begs, than loses? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Madam, it is a grief to me; +Yet, on my word, his cash was put to proper uses. +Besides, his penitence was very sore, +And he lamented his ill fortune all the more. + + +MARGARET + +Alack, that men are so unfortunate! +Surely for his soul’s sake full many a prayer I’ll proffer. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +You well deserve a speedy marriage-offer: +You are so kind, compassionate. + + +MARGARET + +O, no! As yet, it would not do. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +If not a husband, then a beau for you! +It is the greatest heavenly blessing, +To have a dear thing for one’s caressing. + + +MARGARET + +The country’s custom is not so. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Custom, or not! It happens, though. + + +MARTHA + +Continue, pray! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + I stood beside his bed of dying. +’Twas something better than manure,— +Half-rotten straw: and yet, he died a Christian, sure, +And found that heavier scores to his account were lying. +He cried: “I find my conduct wholly hateful! +To leave my wife, my trade, in manner so ungrateful! +Ah, the remembrance makes me die! +Would of my wrong to her I might be shriven!” + + +MARTHA (_weeping_) + +The dear, good man! Long since was he forgiven. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +“Yet she, God knows! was more to blame than I.” + + +MARTHA + +He lied! What! On the brink of death he slandered? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +In the last throes his senses wandered, +If I such things but half can judge. +He said: “I had no time for play, for gaping freedom: +First children, and then work for bread to feed ’em,— +For bread, in the widest sense, to drudge, +And could not even eat my share in peace and quiet!” + + +MARTHA + +Had he all love, all faith forgotten in his riot? +My work and worry, day and night? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Not so: the memory of it touched him quite. +Said he: “When I from Malta went away +My prayers for wife and little ones were zealous, +And such a luck from Heaven befell us, +We made a Turkish merchantman our prey, +That to the Soldan bore a mighty treasure. +Then I received, as was most fit, +Since bravery was paid in fullest measure, +My well-apportioned share of it.” + + +MARTHA + +Say, how? Say, where? If buried, did he own it? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Who knows, now, whither the four winds have blown it? +A fair young damsel took him in her care, +As he in Naples wandered round, unfriended; +And she much love, much faith to him did bear, +So that he felt it till his days were ended. + + +MARTHA + +The villain! From his children thieving! +Even all the misery on him cast +Could not prevent his shameful way of living! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But see! He’s dead therefrom, at last. +Were I in _your_ place, do not doubt me, +I’d mourn him decently a year, +And for another keep, meanwhile, my eyes about me. + + +MARTHA + +Ah, God! another one so dear +As was my first, this world will hardly give me. +There never was a sweeter fool than mine, +Only he loved to roam and leave me, +And foreign wenches and foreign wine, +And the damned throw of dice, indeed. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Well, well! That might have done, however, +If he had only been as clever, +And treated _your_ slips with as little heed. +I swear, with this condition, too, +I would, myself, change rings with you. + + +MARTHA + +The gentleman is pleased to jest. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I’ll cut away, betimes, from here: +She’d take the Devil at his word, I fear. + +(_To_ MARGARET) + +How fares the heart within your breast? + + +MARGARET + +What means the gentleman? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_aside_) + + Sweet innocent, thou art! + +(_Aloud_.) + + Ladies, farewell! + + +MARGARET + +Farewell! + + +MARTHA + + A moment, ere we part! +I’d like to have a legal witness, +Where, how, and when he died, to certify his fitness. +Irregular ways I’ve always hated; +I want his death in the weekly paper stated. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, my good dame, a pair of witnesses +Always the truth establishes. +I have a friend of high condition, +Who’ll also add his deposition. +I’ll bring him here. + + +MARTHA + + Good Sir, pray do! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And this young lady will be present, too? +A gallant youth! has travelled far: +Ladies with him delighted are. + + +MARGARET + +Before him I should blush, ashamed. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Before no king that could be named! + + +MARTHA + +Behind the house, in my garden, then, +This eve we’ll expect the gentlemen. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XI + + +A STREET + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +How is it? under way? and soon complete? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Ah, bravo! Do I find you burning? +Well, Margaret soon will still your yearning: +At Neighbor Martha’s you’ll this evening meet. +A fitter woman ne’er was made +To ply the pimp and gypsy trade! + +FAUST + +Tis well. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yet something is required from us. + +FAUST + +One service pays the other thus. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We’ve but to make a deposition valid +That now her husband’s limbs, outstretched and pallid, +At Padua rest, in consecrated soil. + +FAUST + +Most wise! And first, of course, we’ll make the journey + thither? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +_Sancta simplicitas_! no need of such a toil; +Depose, with knowledge or without it, either! + +FAUST + +If you’ve naught better, then, I’ll tear your pretty plan! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Now, there you are! O holy man! +Is it the first time in your life you’re driven +To bear false witness in a case? +Of God, the world and all that in it has a place, +Of Man, and all that moves the being of his race, +Have you not terms and definitions given +With brazen forehead, daring breast? +And, if you’ll probe the thing profoundly, +Knew you so much—and you’ll confess it roundly!— +As here of Schwerdtlein’s death and place of rest? + +FAUST + +Thou art, and thou remain’st, a sophist, liar. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, knew I not more deeply thy desire. +For wilt thou not, no lover fairer, +Poor Margaret flatter, and ensnare her, +And all thy soul’s devotion swear her? + +FAUST + +And from my heart. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + ’Tis very fine! +Thine endless love, thy faith assuring, +The one almighty force enduring,— +Will that, too, prompt this heart of thine? + +FAUST + +Hold! hold! It will!—If such my flame, +And for the sense and power intense +I seek, and cannot find, a name; +Then range with all my senses through creation, +Craving the speech of inspiration, +And call this ardor, so supernal, +Endless, eternal and eternal,— +Is that a devilish lying game? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And yet I’m right! + +FAUST + + Mark this, I beg of thee! +And spare my lungs henceforth: whoever +Intends to have the right, if but his + tongue be clever, +Will have it, certainly. +But come: the further talking brings + disgust, +For thou art right, especially since I + must. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XII + + +GARDEN + +(MARGARET _on_ FAUST’S _arm_. MARTHA _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES +_walking up and down_.) + +MARGARET + +I feel, the gentleman allows for me, +Demeans himself, and shames me by it; +A traveller is so used to be +Kindly content with any diet. +I know too well that my poor gossip can +Ne’er entertain such an experienced man. + +FAUST + +A look from thee, a word, more entertains +Than all the lore of wisest brains. + +(_He kisses her hand_.) + +MARGARET + +Don’t incommode yourself! How could you ever kiss it! +It is so ugly, rough to see! +What work I do,—how hard and steady is it! +Mother is much too close with me. + +[_They pass_. + +MARTHA + +And you, Sir, travel always, do you not? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Alas, that trade and duty us so harry! +With what a pang one leaves so many a spot, +And dares not even now and then to tarry! + +MARTHA + +In young, wild years it suits your ways, +This round and round the world in freedom sweeping; +But then come on the evil days, +And so, as bachelor, into his grave a-creeping, +None ever found a thing to praise. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I dread to see how such a fate advances. + +MARTHA + +Then, worthy Sir, improve betimes your chances! + +[_They pass_. + +MARGARET + +Yes, out of sight is out of mind! +Your courtesy an easy grace is; +But you have friends in other places, +And sensibler than I, you’ll find. + +FAUST + +Trust me, dear heart! what men call sensible +Is oft mere vanity and narrowness. + +MARGARET + + How so? + +FAUST + +Ah, that simplicity and innocence ne’er know +Themselves, their holy value, and their spell! +That meekness, lowliness, the highest graces +Which Nature portions out so lovingly— + +MARGARET + +So you but think a moment’s space on me, +All times I’ll have to think on you, all places! + +FAUST + +No doubt you’re much alone? + +MARGARET + +Yes, for our household small has grown, +Yet must be cared for, you will own. +We have no maid: I do the knitting, sewing, sweeping, +The cooking, early work and late, in fact; +And mother, in her notions of housekeeping, +Is so exact! +Not that she needs so much to keep expenses down: +We, more than others, might take comfort, rather: +A nice estate was left us by my father, +A house, a little garden near the town. +But now my days have less of noise and hurry; +My brother is a soldier, +My little sister’s dead. +True, with the child a troubled life I led, +Yet I would take again, and willing, all the worry, +So very dear was she. + +FAUST + +An angel, if like thee! + +MARGARET + +I brought it up, and it was fond of me. +Father had died before it saw the light, +And mother’s case seemed hopeless quite, +So weak and miserable she lay; +And she recovered, then, so slowly, day by day. +She could not think, herself, of giving +The poor wee thing its natural living; +And so I nursed it all alone +With milk and water: ’twas my own. +Lulled in my lap with many a song, +It smiled, and tumbled, and grew strong. + +FAUST + +The purest bliss was surely then thy dower. + +MARGARET + +But surely, also, many a weary hour. +I kept the baby’s cradle near +My bed at night: if ’t even stirred, I’d guess it, +And waking, hear. +And I must nurse it, warm beside me press it, +And oft, to quiet it, my bed forsake, +And dandling back and forth the restless creature take, +Then at the wash-tub stand, at morning’s break; +And then the marketing and kitchen-tending, +Day after day, the same thing, never-ending. +One’s spirits, Sir, are thus not always good, +But then one learns to relish rest and food. + +[_They pass_. + +MARTHA + +Yes, the poor women are bad off, ’tis true: +A stubborn bachelor there’s no converting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +It but depends upon the like of you, +And I should turn to better ways than flirting. + +MARTHA + +Speak plainly, Sir, have you no one detected? +Has not your heart been anywhere subjected? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The proverb says: One’s own warm hearth +And a good wife, are gold and jewels worth. + +MARTHA + +I mean, have you not felt desire, though ne’er so slightly? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I’ve everywhere, in fact, been entertained politely. + +MARTHA + +I meant to say, were you not touched in earnest, ever? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +One should allow one’s self to jest with ladies never. + + +MARTHA +Ah, you don’t understand! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I’m sorry I’m so blind: +But I am sure—that you are very kind. + +[_They pass_. + +FAUST + +And me, thou angel! didst thou recognize, +As through the garden-gate I came? + +MARGARET + +Did you not see it? I cast down my eyes. + +FAUST + +And thou forgiv’st my freedom, and the blame +To my impertinence befitting, +As the Cathedral thou wert quitting? + +MARGARET + +I was confused, the like ne’er happened me; +No one could ever speak to my discredit. +Ah, thought I, in my conduct has he read it— +Something immodest or unseemly free? +He seemed to have the sudden feeling +That with this wench ’twere very easy dealing. +I will confess, I knew not what appeal +On your behalf, here, in my bosom grew; +But I was angry with myself, to feel +That I could not be angrier with you. + + +FAUST + +Sweet darling! + +MARGARET + +Wait a while! + +(_She plucks a star-flower, and pulls off the leaves, one after +the other_.) + +FAUST + +Shall that a nosegay be? + +MARGARET + +No, it is just in play. + +FAUST + +How? + +MARGARET + +Go! you’ll laugh at me. +(_She pulls off the leaves and murmurs_.) + +FAUST + +What murmurest thou? + +MARGARET (_half aloud_) + +He loves me—loves me not. + +FAUST + +Thou sweet, angelic soul! + +MARGARET (_continues_) + +Loves me—not—loves me—not— +(_plucking the last leaf, she cries with frank delight_:) + +He loves me! + +FAUST + +Yes, child! and let this blossom-word +For thee be speech divine! He loves thee! +Ah, know’st thou what it means? He loves thee! + +(_He grasps both her hands_.) + +MARGARET + +I’m all a-tremble! + +FAUST + +O tremble not! but let this look, +Let this warm clasp of hands declare thee +What is unspeakable! +To yield one wholly, and to feel a rapture +In yielding, that must be eternal! +Eternal!—for the end would be despair. +No, no,—no ending! no ending! + +MARTHA (_coming forward_) + +The night is falling. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Ay! we must away. + +MARTHA + +I’d ask you, longer here to tarry, +But evil tongues in this town have full play. +It’s as if nobody had nothing to fetch and carry, +Nor other labor, +But spying all the doings of one’s neighbor: +And one becomes the talk, do whatsoe’er one may. +Where is our couple now? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Flown up the alley yonder, +The wilful summer-birds! + +MARTHA + + He seems of her still fonder. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And she of him. So runs the world away! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XIII + + +A GARDEN-ARBOR + +(MARGARET _comes in, conceals herself behind the door, puts her +finger to her lips, and peeps through the crack_.) + +MARGARET + +He comes! + +FAUST (_entering_) + + Ah, rogue! a tease thou art: +I have thee! +(_He kisses her_.) + +MARGARET + +(_clasping him, and returning the kiss_) + Dearest man! I love thee from my heart. + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _knocks_) + +FAUST (_stamping his foot_) + +Who’s there? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A friend! + +FAUST + + A beast! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Tis time to separate. + +MARTHA (_coming_) + +Yes, Sir, ’tis late. + +FAUST + + May I not, then, upon you wait? + +MARGARET +My mother would—farewell! + +FAUST + + Ah, can I not remain? +Farewell! + +MARTHA + + Adieu! + +MARGARET + + And soon to meet again! + +[_Exeunt_ FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES. + +MARGARET + +Dear God! However is it, such +A man can think and know so much? +I stand ashamed and in amaze, +And answer “Yes” to all he says, +A poor, unknowing child! and he— +I can’t think what he finds in me! [_Exit_. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XIV + + +FOREST AND CAVERN + +FAUST (_solus_) + +Spirit sublime, thou gav’st me, gav’st me all +For which I prayed. Not unto me in vain +Hast thou thy countenance revealed in fire. +Thou gav’st me Nature as a kingdom grand, +With power to feel and to enjoy it. Thou +Not only cold, amazed acquaintance yield’st, +But grantest, that in her profoundest breast +I gaze, as in the bosom of a friend. +The ranks of living creatures thou dost lead +Before me, teaching me to know my brothers +In air and water and the silent wood. +And when the storm in forests roars and grinds, +The giant firs, in falling, neighbor boughs +And neighbor trunks with crushing weight bear down, +And falling, fill the hills with hollow thunders,— +Then to the cave secure thou leadest me, +Then show’st me mine own self, and in my breast +The deep, mysterious miracles unfold. +And when the perfect moon before my gaze +Comes up with soothing light, around me float +From every precipice and thicket damp +The silvery phantoms of the ages past, +And temper the austere delight of thought. + +That nothing can be perfect unto Man +I now am conscious. With this ecstasy, +Which brings me near and nearer to the Gods, +Thou gav’st the comrade, whom I now no more +Can do without, though, cold and scornful, he +Demeans me to myself, and with a breath, +A word, transforms thy gifts to nothingness. +Within my breast he fans a lawless fire, +Unwearied, for that fair and lovely form: +Thus in desire I hasten to enjoyment, +And in enjoyment pine to feel desire. + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Have you not led this life quite long enough? +How can a further test delight you? +’Tis very well, that once one tries the stuff, +But something new must then requite you. + +FAUST + +Would there were other work for thee! +To plague my day auspicious thou returnest. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Well! I’ll engage to let thee be: +Thou darest not tell me so in earnest. +The loss of thee were truly very slight,— +comrade crazy, rude, repelling: + +[Illustration] + +One has one’s hands full all the day and night; +If what one does, or leaves undone, is right, +From such a face as thine there is no telling. + +FAUST + +There is, again, thy proper tone!— +That thou hast bored me, I must thankful be! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Poor Son of Earth, how couldst thou thus alone +Have led thy life, bereft of me? +I, for a time, at least, have worked thy cure; +Thy fancy’s rickets plague thee not at all: +Had I not been, so hadst thou, sure, +Walked thyself off this earthly ball +Why here to caverns, rocky hollows slinking, +Sit’st thou, as ’twere an owl a-blinking? +Why suck’st, from sodden moss and dripping stone, +Toad-like, thy nourishment alone? +A fine way, this, thy time to fill! +The Doctor’s in thy body still. + +FAUST + +What fresh and vital forces, canst thou guess, +Spring from my commerce with the wilderness? +But, if thou hadst the power of guessing, +Thou wouldst be devil enough to grudge my soul the blessing. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A blessing drawn from supernatural fountains! +In night and dew to lie upon the mountains; +All Heaven and Earth in rapture penetrating; +Thyself to Godhood haughtily inflating; +To grub with yearning force through Earth’s dark marrow, +Compress the six days’ work within thy bosom narrow,— +To taste, I know not what, in haughty power, +Thine own ecstatic life on all things shower, +Thine earthly self behind thee cast, +And then the lofty instinct, thus— + +(_With a gesture_:) + +at last,— +daren’t say how—to pluck the final flower! + +FAUST + +Shame on thee! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, thou findest that unpleasant! +Thou hast the moral right to cry me “shame!” at present. +One dares not that before chaste ears declare, +Which chaste hearts, notwithstanding, cannot spare; +And, once for all, I grudge thee not the pleasure +Of lying to thyself in moderate measure. +But such a course thou wilt not long endure; +Already art thou o’er-excited, +And, if it last, wilt soon be plighted +To madness and to horror, sure. +Enough of that! Thy love sits lonely yonder, +By all things saddened and oppressed; +Her thoughts and yearnings seek thee, tenderer, fonder,— +mighty love is in her breast. +First came thy passion’s flood and poured around her +As when from melted snow a streamlet overflows; +Thou hast therewith so filled and drowned her, +That now _thy_ stream all shallow shows. +Methinks, instead of in the forests lording, +The noble Sir should find it good, +The love of this young silly blood +At once to set about rewarding. +Her time is miserably long; +She haunts her window, watching clouds that stray +O’er the old city-wall, and far away. +“Were I a little bird!” so runs her song, +Day long, and half night long. +Now she is lively, mostly sad, +Now, wept beyond her tears; +Then again quiet she appears,—Always +love-mad. + +FAUST + +Serpent! Serpent! + +MEPHISTOPHELES _(aside)_ + +Ha! do I trap thee! + +FAUST + +Get thee away with thine offences, +Reprobate! Name not that fairest thing, +Nor the desire for her sweet body bring +Again before my half-distracted senses! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What wouldst thou, then? She thinks that thou art flown; +And half and half thou art, I own. + +FAUST + +Yet am I near, and love keeps watch and ward; +Though I were ne’er so far, it cannot falter: +I envy even the Body of the Lord +The touching of her lips, before the altar. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +’Tis very well! _My_ envy oft reposes +On your twin-pair, that feed among the roses. + +FAUST + +Away, thou pimp! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +You rail, and it is fun to me. +The God, who fashioned youth and maid, +Perceived the noblest purpose of His trade, +And also made their opportunity. +Go on! It is a woe profound! +’Tis for your sweetheart’s room you’re bound, +And not for death, indeed. + +FAUST + +What are, within her arms, the heavenly blisses? +Though I be glowing with her kisses, +Do I not always share her need? +I am the fugitive, all houseless roaming, +The monster without air or rest, +That like a cataract, down rocks and gorges foaming, +Leaps, maddened, into the abyss’s breast! +And side-wards she, with young unwakened senses, +Within her cabin on the Alpine field +Her simple, homely life commences, +Her little world therein concealed. +And I, God’s hate flung o’er me, +Had not enough, to thrust +The stubborn rocks before me +And strike them into dust! +She and her peace I yet must undermine: +Thou, Hell, hast claimed this sacrifice as thine! +Help, Devil! through the coming pangs to push me; +What must be, let it quickly be! +Let fall on me her fate, and also crush me,— +One ruin whelm both her and me! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Again it seethes, again it glows! +Thou fool, go in and comfort her! +When such a head as thine no outlet knows, +It thinks the end must soon occur. +Hail him, who keeps a steadfast mind! +Thou, else, dost well the devil-nature wear: +Naught so insipid in the world I find +As is a devil in despair. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XV + + +MARGARET’S ROOM + +MARGARET + +(_at the spinning-wheel, alone_) + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + Save I have him near. + The grave is here; + The world is gall + And bitterness all. + + My poor weak head + Is racked and crazed; + My thought is lost, + My senses mazed. + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + To see him, him only, + At the pane I sit; + To meet him, him only, + The house I quit. + + His lofty gait, + His noble size, + The smile of his mouth, + The power of his eyes, + + And the magic flow + Of his talk, the bliss + In the clasp of his hand, + And, ah! his kiss! + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + My bosom yearns + For him alone; + Ah, dared I clasp him, + And hold, and own! + + And kiss his mouth, + To heart’s desire, + And on his kisses + At last expire! + +[Illustration] + + + + +XVI + + +MARTHA’S GARDEN + +MARGARET FAUST + +MARGARET + +Promise me, Henry!— + +FAUST + +What I can! + +MARGARET + +How is’t with thy religion, pray? +Thou art a dear, good-hearted man, +And yet, I think, dost not incline that way. + +FAUST + +Leave that, my child! Thou know’st my love is tender; +For love, my blood and life would I surrender, +And as for Faith and Church, I grant to each his own. + +MARGARET + +That’s not enough: we must believe thereon. + +FAUST + +Must we? + +MARGARET + +Would that I had some influence! +Then, too, thou honorest not the Holy Sacraments. + +FAUST + +I honor them. + +MARGARET + +Desiring no possession +’Tis long since thou hast been to mass or to confession. +Believest thou in God? + +FAUST + +My darling, who shall dare +“I believe in God!” to say? +Ask priest or sage the answer to declare, +And it will seem a mocking play, +A sarcasm on the asker. + +MARGARET + +Then thou believest not! + +FAUST + +Hear me not falsely, sweetest countenance! +Who dare express Him? +And who profess Him, +Saying: I believe in Him! +Who, feeling, seeing, +Deny His being, +Saying: I believe Him not! +The All-enfolding, +The All-upholding, +Folds and upholds he not +Thee, me, Himself? +Arches not there the sky above us? +Lies not beneath us, firm, the earth? +And rise not, on us shining, +Friendly, the everlasting stars? +Look I not, eye to eye, on thee, +And feel’st not, thronging +To head and heart, the force, +Still weaving its eternal secret, +Invisible, visible, round thy life? +Vast as it is, fill with that force thy heart, +And when thou in the feeling wholly blessed art, +Call it, then, what thou wilt,— +Call it Bliss! Heart! Love! God! +I have no name to give it! +Feeling is all in all: +The Name is sound and smoke, +Obscuring Heaven’s clear glow. + +MARGARET + +All that is fine and good, to hear it so: +Much the same way the preacher spoke, +Only with slightly different phrases. + +FAUST + +The same thing, in all places, +All hearts that beat beneath the heavenly day— +Each in its language—say; +Then why not I, in mine, as well? + +MARGARET + +To hear it thus, it may seem passable; +And yet, some hitch in’t there must be +For thou hast no Christianity. + +FAUST + +Dear love! + +MARGARET + + I’ve long been grieved to see +That thou art in such company. + +FAUST + +How so? + +MARGARET + + The man who with thee goes, thy mate, +Within my deepest, inmost soul I hate. +In all my life there’s nothing +Has given my heart so keen a pang of loathing, +As his repulsive face has done. + +FAUST + +Nay, fear him not, my sweetest one! + +MARGARET + +I feel his presence like something ill. +I’ve else, for all, a kindly will, +But, much as my heart to see thee yearneth, +The secret horror of him returneth; +And I think the man a knave, as I live! +If I do him wrong, may God forgive! + +FAUST + +There must be such queer birds, however. + +MARGARET + +Live with the like of him, may I never! +When once inside the door comes he, +He looks around so sneeringly, +And half in wrath: +One sees that in nothing no interest he hath: +’Tis written on his very forehead +That love, to him, is a thing abhorréd. +I am so happy on thine arm, +So free, so yielding, and so warm, +And in his presence stifled seems my heart. + +FAUST + +Foreboding angel that thou art! + +MARGARET + +It overcomes me in such degree, +That wheresoe’er he meets us, even, +I feel as though I’d lost my love for thee. +When he is by, I could not pray to Heaven. +That burns within me like a flame, +And surely, Henry, ’tis with thee the same. + +FAUST + +There, now, is thine antipathy! + +MARGARET + +But I must go. + +FAUST + + Ah, shall there never be +A quiet hour, to see us fondly plighted, +With breast to breast, and soul to soul united? + +MARGARET + +Ah, if I only slept alone! +I’d draw the bolts to-night, for thy desire; +But mother’s sleep so light has grown, +And if we were discovered by her, +’Twould be my death upon the spot! + +FAUST + +Thou angel, fear it not! +Here is a phial: in her drink +But three drops of it measure, +And deepest sleep will on her senses sink. + +MARGARET + +What would I not, to give thee pleasure? +It will not harm her, when one tries it? + +FAUST + +If ’twould, my love, would I advise it? + +MARGARET + +Ah, dearest man, if but thy face I see, +I know not what compels me to thy will: +So much have I already done for thee, +That scarcely more is left me to fulfil. + +(_Enter_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) [_Exit_. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The monkey! Is she gone? + +FAUST + + Hast played the spy again? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I’ve heard, most fully, how she drew thee. +The Doctor has been catechised, ’tis plain; +Great good, I hope, the thing will do thee. +The girls have much desire to ascertain +If one is prim and good, as ancient rules compel: +If there he’s led, they think, he’ll follow them as well. + +FAUST + +Thou, monster, wilt nor see nor own +How this pure soul, of faith so lowly, +So loving and ineffable,— +The faith alone +That her salvation is,—with scruples holy +Pines, lest she hold as lost the man she loves so well! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Thou, full of sensual, super-sensual desire, +A girl by the nose is leading thee. + +FAUST + +Abortion, thou, of filth and fire! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And then, how masterly she reads physiognomy! +When I am present she’s impressed, she knows not how; +She in my mask a hidden sense would read: +She feels that surely I’m a genius now,— +Perhaps the very Devil, indeed! +Well, well,—to-night—? + +FAUST + + What’s that to thee? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yet my delight ’twill also be! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XVII + + +AT THE FOUNTAIN + +MARGARET _and_ LISBETH _With pitchers_. + +LISBETH + +Hast nothing heard of Barbara? + +MARGARET + +No, not a word. I go so little out. + +LISBETH + +It’s true, Sibylla said, to-day. +She’s played the fool at last, there’s not a doubt. +Such taking-on of airs! + +MARGARET + + How so? + +LISBETH + + It stinks! +She’s feeding two, whene’er she eats and drinks. + +MARGARET + +Ah! + +LISBETH + + And so, at last, it serves her rightly. +She clung to the fellow so long and tightly! +That was a promenading! +At village and dance parading! +As the first they must everywhere shine, +And he treated her always to pies and wine, +And she made a to-do with her face so fine; +So mean and shameless was her behavior, +She took all the presents the fellow gave her. +’Twas kissing and coddling, on and on! +So now, at the end, the flower is gone. + +MARGARET + +The poor, poor thing! + +LISBETH + + Dost pity her, at that? +When one of us at spinning sat, +And mother, nights, ne’er let us out the door +She sported with her paramour. +On the door-bench, in the passage dark, +The length of the time they’d never mark. +So now her head no more she’ll lift, +But do church-penance in her sinner’s shift! + +MARGARET + +He’ll surely take her for his wife. + +LISBETH + +He’d be a fool! A brisk young blade +Has room, elsewhere, to ply his trade. +Besides, he’s gone. + +MARGARET + + That is not fair! + +LISBETH + +If him she gets, why let her beware! +The boys shall dash her wreath on the floor, +And we’ll scatter chaff before her door! + [_Exit_. + +MARGARET (_returning home_) + +How scornfully I once reviled, +When some poor maiden was beguiled! +More speech than any tongue suffices +I craved, to censure others’ vices. +Black as it seemed, I blackened still, +And blacker yet was in my will; +And blessed myself, and boasted high,— +And now—a living sin am I! +Yet—all that drove my heart thereto, +God! was so good, so dear, so true! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XVIII + + +DONJON + +(_In a niche of the wall a shrine, with an image of the Mater +Dolorosa. Pots of flowers before it_.) + +MARGARET + +(_putting fresh flowers in the pots_) + + Incline, O Maiden, + Thou sorrow-laden, + Thy gracious countenance upon my pain! + + The sword Thy heart in, + With anguish smarting, + Thou lookest up to where Thy Son is slain! + + Thou seest the Father; + Thy sad sighs gather, + And bear aloft Thy sorrow and His pain! + + Ah, past guessing, + Beyond expressing, + The pangs that wring my flesh and bone! + Why this anxious heart so burneth, + Why it trembleth, why it yearneth, + Knowest Thou, and Thou alone! + + Where’er I go, what sorrow, + What woe, what woe and sorrow + Within my bosom aches! + Alone, and ah! unsleeping, + I’m weeping, weeping, weeping, + The heart within me breaks. + + The pots before my window, + Alas! my tears did wet, + As in the early morning + For thee these flowers I set. + + Within my lonely chamber + The morning sun shone red: + I sat, in utter sorrow, + Already on my bed. + + Help! rescue me from death and stain! + O Maiden! + Thou sorrow-laden, + Incline Thy countenance upon my pain! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XIX + + +NIGHT + +STREET BEFORE MARGARET’S DOOR + +VALENTINE (_a soldier_, MARGARET’S _brother_) + +When I have sat at some carouse. +Where each to each his brag allows, +And many a comrade praised to me +His pink of girls right lustily, +With brimming glass that spilled the toast, +And elbows planted as in boast: +I sat in unconcerned repose, +And heard the swagger as it rose. +And stroking then my beard, I’d say, +Smiling, the bumper in my hand: +“Each well enough in her own way. +But is there one in all the land +Like sister Margaret, good as gold,— +One that to her can a candle hold?” +Cling! clang! “Here’s to her!” went around +The board: “He speaks the truth!” cried some; +“In her the flower o’ the sex is found!” +And all the swaggerers were dumb. +And now!—I could tear my hair with vexation. +And dash out my brains in desperation! +With turned-up nose each scamp may face me, +With sneers and stinging taunts disgrace me, +And, like a bankrupt debtor sitting, +A chance-dropped word may set me sweating! +Yet, though I thresh them all together, +I cannot call them liars, either. + +But what comes sneaking, there, to view? +If I mistake not, there are two. +If _he’s_ one, let me at him drive! +He shall not leave the spot alive. + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +How from the window of the sacristy +Upward th’eternal lamp sends forth a glimmer, +That, lessening side-wards, fainter grows and dimmer, +Till darkness closes from the sky! +The shadows thus within my bosom gather. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I’m like a sentimental tom-cat, rather, +That round the tall fire-ladders sweeps, +And stealthy, then, along the coping creeps: +Quite virtuous, withal, I come, +A little thievish and a little frolicsome. +I feel in every limb the presage +Forerunning the grand Walpurgis-Night: +Day after to-morrow brings its message, +And one keeps watch then with delight. + +FAUST + +Meanwhile, may not the treasure risen be, +Which there, behind, I glimmering see? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Shalt soon experience the pleasure, +To lift the kettle with its treasure. +I lately gave therein a squint— +Saw splendid lion-dollars in ’t. + +FAUST + +Not even a jewel, not a ring, +To deck therewith my darling girl? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I saw, among the rest, a thing +That seemed to be a chain of pearl. + +FAUST + +That’s well, indeed! For painful is it +To bring no gift when her I visit. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Thou shouldst not find it so annoying, +Without return to be enjoying. +Now, while the sky leads forth its starry throng, +Thou’lt hear a masterpiece, no work completer: +I’ll sing her, first, a moral song, +The surer, afterwards, to cheat her. + +(_Sings to the cither_.) + + What dost thou here + In daybreak clear, + Kathrina dear, + Before thy lover’s door? + Beware! the blade + Lets in a maid. + That out a maid + Departeth nevermore! + + The coaxing shun + Of such an one! + When once ’tis done + Good-night to thee, poor thing! + Love’s time is brief: + Unto no thief + Be warm and lief, + But with the wedding-ring! + +VALENTINE (_comes forward_) + +Whom wilt thou lure? God’s-element! +Rat-catching piper, thou!—perdition! +To the Devil, first, the instrument! +To the Devil, then, the curst musician! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The cither’s smashed! For nothing more ’tis fitting. + +VALENTINE + +There’s yet a skull I must be splitting! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Sir Doctor, don’t retreat, I pray! +Stand by: I’ll lead, if you’ll but tarry: +Out with your spit, without delay! +You’ve but to lunge, and I will parry. + +VALENTINE + +Then parry that! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Why not? ’tis light. +VALENTINE + +That, too! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Of course. + +VALENTINE + +I think the Devil must fight! +How is it, then? my hand’s already lame: + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Thrust home! + +VALENTINE (_jails_) + +O God! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Now is the lubber tame! +But come, away! ’Tis time for us to fly; +For there arises now a murderous cry. +With the police ’twere easy to compound it, +But here the penal court will sift and sound it. + +[_Exit with_ FAUST. + +MARTHA (_at the window_) + +Come out! Come out! + +MARGARET (_at the window_) + +Quick, bring a light! + +MARTHA (_as above_) + +They swear and storm, they yell and fight! + +PEOPLE + +Here lies one dead already—see! + +MARTHA (_coming from the house_) + +The murderers, whither have they run? + +MARGARET (_coming out_) + +Who lies here? + +PEOPLE + +’Tis thy mother’s son! + +MARGARET + +Almighty God! what misery! + +VALENTINE + +I’m dying! That is quickly said, +And quicker yet ’tis done. +Why howl, you women there? Instead, +Come here and listen, every one! + +(_All gather around him_) + +My Margaret, see! still young thou art, +But not the least bit shrewd or smart, +Thy business thus to slight: +So this advice I bid thee heed— +Now that thou art a whore indeed, +Why, be one then, outright! + +MARGARET + +My brother! God! such words to me? + +VALENTINE + +In this game let our Lord God be! +What’s done’s already done, alas! +What follows it, must come to pass. +With one begin’st thou secretly, +Then soon will others come to thee, +And when a dozen thee have known, +Thou’rt also free to all the town. +When Shame is born and first appears, +She is in secret brought to light, +And then they draw the veil of night +Over her head and ears; +Her life, in fact, they’re loath to spare her. +But let her growth and strength display, +She walks abroad unveiled by day, +Yet is not grown a whit the fairer. +The uglier she is to sight, +The more she seeks the day’s broad light. +The time I verily can discern +When all the honest folk will turn +From thee, thou jade! and seek protection +As from a corpse that breeds infection. +Thy guilty heart shall then dismay thee. +When they but look thee in the face:— +Shalt not in a golden chain array thee, +Nor at the altar take thy place! +Shalt not, in lace and ribbons flowing, +Make merry when the dance is going! +But in some corner, woe betide thee! +Among the beggars and cripples hide thee; +And so, though even God forgive, +On earth a damned existence live! + +MARTHA + +Commend your soul to God for pardon, +That you your heart with slander harden! + +VALENTINE + +Thou pimp most infamous, be still! +Could I thy withered body kill, +’Twould bring, for all my sinful pleasure, +Forgiveness in the richest measure. + +MARGARET + +My brother! This is Hell’s own pain! + +VALENTINE + +I tell thee, from thy tears refrain! +When thou from honor didst depart +It stabbed me to the very heart. +Now through the slumber of the grave +I go to God as a soldier brave. + +(_Dies_.) + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XX + + +CATHEDRAL + +SERVICE, ORGAN _and_ ANTHEM. + +(MARGARET _among much people: the_ EVIL SPIRIT _behind_ +MARGARET.) + +EVIL SPIRIT + +HOW otherwise was it, Margaret, +When thou, still innocent, +Here to the altar cam’st, +And from the worn and fingered book +Thy prayers didst prattle, +Half sport of childhood, +Half God within thee! +Margaret! +Where tends thy thought? +Within thy bosom +What hidden crime? +Pray’st thou for mercy on thy mother’s soul, +That fell asleep to long, long torment, and through thee? +Upon thy threshold whose the blood? +And stirreth not and quickens +Something beneath thy heart, +Thy life disquieting +With most foreboding presence? + +MARGARET + +Woe! woe! +Would I were free from the thoughts +That cross me, drawing hither and thither +Despite me! + +CHORUS + + _Diesira, dies illa, + Solvet soeclum in favilla_! + _(Sound of the organ_.) + +EVIL SPIRIT + +Wrath takes thee! +The trumpet peals! +The graves tremble! +And thy heart +From ashy rest +To fiery torments +Now again requickened, +Throbs to life! + +MARGARET + +Would I were forth! +I feel as if the organ here +My breath takes from me, +My very heart +Dissolved by the anthem! + + +CHORUS + + _Judex ergo cum sedebit, + Quidquid latet, ad parebit, + Nil inultum remanebit_. +MARGARET + +I cannot breathe! +The massy pillars +Imprison me! +The vaulted arches +Crush me!—Air! + +EVIL SPIRIT + +Hide thyself! Sin and shame +Stay never hidden. +Air? Light? +Woe to thee! + +CHORUS + + _Quid sum miser tunc dicturus, + Quem patronem rogaturus, + Cum vix Justus sit securus_? + +EVIL SPIRIT + +They turn their faces, +The glorified, from thee: +The pure, their hands to offer, +Shuddering, refuse thee! +Woe! + +CHORUS + +_Quid sum miser tune dicturus_? + +MARGARET + +Neighbor! your cordial! (_She falls in a swoon_.) + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXI + + +WALPURGIS-NIGHT + +THE HARTZ MOUNTAINS. + +_District of Schierke and Elend_. + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +DOST thou not wish a broomstick-steed’s assistance? +The sturdiest he-goat I would gladly see: +The way we take, our goal is yet some distance. + +FAUST + +So long as in my legs I feel the fresh existence. +This knotted staff suffices me. +What need to shorten so the way? +Along this labyrinth of vales to wander, +Then climb the rocky ramparts yonder, +Wherefrom the fountain flings eternal spray, +Is such delight, my steps would fain delay. +The spring-time stirs within the fragrant birches, +And even the fir-tree feels it now: +Should then our limbs escape its gentle searches? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I notice no such thing, I vow! +’Tis winter still within my body: +Upon my path I wish for frost and snow. +How sadly rises, incomplete and ruddy, +The moon’s lone disk, with its belated glow, +And lights so dimly, that, as one advances, +At every step one strikes a rock or tree! +Let us, then, use a Jack-o’-lantern’s glances: +I see one yonder, burning merrily. +Ho, there! my friend! I’ll levy thine attendance: +Why waste so vainly thy resplendence? +Be kind enough to light us up the steep! + +WILL-O’-THE-WISP + +My reverence, I hope, will me enable +To curb my temperament unstable; +For zigzag courses we are wont to keep. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Indeed? he’d like mankind to imitate! +Now, in the Devil’s name, go straight, +Or I’ll blow out his being’s flickering spark! + +WILL-O’-THE-WISP + +You are the master of the house, I mark, +And I shall try to serve you nicely. +But then, reflect: the mountain’s magic-mad to-day, +And if a will-o’-the-wisp must guide you on the way, +You mustn’t take things too precisely. + +FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, WILL-O’-THE-WISP + +(_in alternating song_) + + We, it seems, have entered newly + In the sphere of dreams enchanted. + Do thy bidding, guide us truly, + That our feet be forwards planted + In the vast, the desert spaces! + See them swiftly changing places, + Trees on trees beside us trooping, + And the crags above us stooping, + And the rocky snouts, outgrowing,— + Hear them snoring, hear them blowing! + O’er the stones, the grasses, flowing + Stream and streamlet seek the hollow. + Hear I noises? songs that follow? + Hear I tender love-petitions? + Voices of those heavenly visions? + Sounds of hope, of love undying! + And the echoes, like traditions + Of old days, come faint and hollow. + + Hoo-hoo! Shoo-hoo! Nearer hover + Jay and screech-owl, and the plover,— + Are they all awake and crying? + Is’t the salamander pushes, + Bloated-bellied, through the bushes? + And the roots, like serpents twisted, + Through the sand and boulders toiling, + Fright us, weirdest links uncoiling + To entrap us, unresisted: + Living knots and gnarls uncanny + Feel with polypus-antennae + For the wanderer. Mice are flying, + Thousand-colored, herd-wise hieing + Through the moss and through the heather! + + And the fire-flies wink and darkle, + Crowded swarms that soar and sparkle, + And in wildering escort gather! + + Tell me, if we still are standing, + Or if further we’re ascending? + All is turning, whirling, blending, + Trees and rocks with grinning faces, + Wandering lights that spin in mazes, + Still increasing and expanding! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Grasp my skirt with heart undaunted! +Here a middle-peak is planted, +Whence one seeth, with amaze, +Mammon in the mountain blaze. + +FAUST + +How strangely glimmers through the hollows +A dreary light, like that of dawn! +Its exhalation tracks and follows +The deepest gorges, faint and wan. +Here steam, there rolling vapor sweepeth; +Here burns the glow through film and haze: +Now like a tender thread it creepeth, +Now like a fountain leaps and plays. +Here winds away, and in a hundred +Divided veins the valley braids: +There, in a corner pressed and sundered, +Itself detaches, spreads and fades. +Here gush the sparkles incandescent +Like scattered showers of golden sand;— +But, see! in all their height, at present, +The rocky ramparts blazing stand. + +[Illustration: _Under the old ribs of the rock retreating_,] + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Has not Sir Mammon grandly lighted +His palace for this festal night? +’Tis lucky thou hast seen the sight; +The boisterous guests approach that were invited. + +FAUST + +How raves the tempest through the air! +With what fierce blows upon my neck ’tis beating! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Under the old ribs of the rock retreating, +Hold fast, lest thou be hurled down the abysses there! +The night with the mist is black; +Hark! how the forests grind and crack! +Frightened, the owlets are scattered: +Hearken! the pillars are shattered. +The evergreen palaces shaking! +Boughs are groaning and breaking, +The tree-trunks terribly thunder, +The roots are twisting asunder! +In frightfully intricate crashing +Each on the other is dashing, +And over the wreck-strewn gorges +The tempest whistles and surges! +Hear’st thou voices higher ringing? +Far away, or nearer singing? +Yes, the mountain’s side along, +Sweeps an infuriate glamouring song! + +WITCHES (_in chorus_) + + The witches ride to the Brocken’s top, + The stubble is yellow, and green the crop. + There gathers the crowd for carnival: + Sir Urian sits over all. + + And so they go over stone and stock; + The witch she——s, and——s the buck. + +A VOICE + + Alone, old Baubo’s coming now; + She rides upon a farrow-sow. + +CHORUS + + Then honor to whom the honor is due! + Dame Baubo first, to lead the crew! + A tough old sow and the mother thereon, + Then follow the witches, every one. + +A VOICE + +Which way com’st thou hither? + +VOICE + +O’er the Ilsen-stone. +I peeped at the owl in her nest alone: +How she stared and glared! + +VOICE + +Betake thee to Hell! +Why so fast and so fell? + +VOICE + +She has scored and has flayed me: +See the wounds she has made me! + +WITCHES (_chorus_) + + The way is wide, the way is long: + See, what a wild and crazy throng! + The broom it scratches, the fork it thrusts, + The child is stifled, the mother bursts. +WIZARDS (_semichorus_) + + As doth the snail in shell, we crawl: + Before us go the women all. + When towards the Devil’s House we tread, + Woman’s a thousand steps ahead. + +OTHER SEMICHORUS + + We do not measure with such care: + Woman in thousand steps is theft. + But howsoe’er she hasten may, + Man in one leap has cleared the way. + +VOICE (_from above_) + +Come on, come on, from Rocky Lake! + +VOICE (_from below_) + +Aloft we’d fain ourselves betake. +We’ve washed, and are bright as ever you will, +Yet we’re eternally sterile still. + +BOTH CHORUSES + + The wind is hushed, the star shoots by. + The dreary moon forsakes the sky; + The magic notes, like spark on spark, + Drizzle, whistling through the dark. + +VOICE (_from below_) + +Halt, there! Ho, there! + +VOICE (_from above_) + +Who calls from the rocky cleft below there? + +VOICE (_below_) + +Take me, too! take me, too! +I’m climbing now three hundred years, +And yet the summit cannot see: +Among my equals I would be. + +BOTH CHORUSES + + Bears the broom and bears the stock, + Bears the fork and bears the buck: + Who cannot raise himself to-night + Is evermore a ruined wight. + +HALF-WITCH (_below_) + +So long I stumble, ill bestead, +And the others are now so far ahead! +At home I’ve neither rest nor cheer, +And yet I cannot gain them here. + +CHORUS OF WITCHES + + To cheer the witch will salve avail; + A rag will answer for a sail; + Each trough a goodly ship supplies; + He ne’er will fly, who now not flies. + +BOTH CHORUSES + + When round the summit whirls our flight, + Then lower, and on the ground alight; + And far and wide the heather press + With witchhood’s swarms of wantonness! + +(_They settle down_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +They crowd and push, they roar and clatter! +They whirl and whistle, pull and chatter! +They shine, and spirt, and stink, and burn! +The true witch-element we learn. +Keep close! or we are parted, in our turn, +Where art thou? + +FAUST (_in the distance_) + +Here! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What! whirled so far astray? +Then house-right I must use, and clear the way. +Make room! Squire Voland comes! Room, gentle rabble, +room! + +Here, Doctor, hold to me: in one jump we’ll resume +An easier space, and from the crowd be free: +It’s too much, even for the like of me. +Yonder, with special light, there’s something shining clearer +Within those bushes; I’ve a mind to see. +Come on! we’ll slip a little nearer. + +FAUST + +Spirit of Contradiction! On! I’ll follow straight. +’Tis planned most wisely, if I judge aright: +We climb the Brocken’s top in the Walpurgis-Night, +That arbitrarily, here, ourselves we isolate. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But see, what motley flames among the heather! +There is a lively club together: +In smaller circles one is not alone. + +FAUST + +Better the summit, I must own: +There fire and whirling smoke I see. +They seek the Evil One in wild confusion: +Many enigmas there might find solution. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But there enigmas also knotted be. +Leave to the multitude their riot! +Here will we house ourselves in quiet. +It is an old, transmitted trade, +That in the greater world the little worlds are made. +I see stark-nude young witches congregate, +And old ones, veiled and hidden shrewdly: +On my account be kind, nor treat them rudely! +The trouble’s small, the fun is great. +I hear the noise of instruments attuning,— +Vile din! yet one must learn to bear the crooning. +Come, come along! It _must_ be, I declare! +I’ll go ahead and introduce thee there, +Thine obligation newly earning. +That is no little space: what say’st thou, friend? +Look yonder! thou canst scarcely see the end: +A hundred fires along the ranks are burning. +They dance, they chat, they cook, they drink, they court: +Now where, just tell me, is there better sport? + +FAUST + +Wilt thou, to introduce us to the revel, +Assume the part of wizard or of devil? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I’m mostly used, ’tis true, to go incognito, +But on a gala-day one may his orders show. +The Garter does not deck my suit, +But honored and at home is here the cloven foot. +Perceiv’st thou yonder snail? It cometh, slow and steady; +So delicately its feelers pry, +That it hath scented me already: +I cannot here disguise me, if I try. +But come! we’ll go from this fire to a newer: +I am the go-between, and thou the wooer. + +(_To some, who are sitting around dying embers_:) + +Old gentlemen, why at the outskirts? Enter! +I’d praise you if I found you snugly in the centre, +With youth and revel round you like a zone: +You each, at home, are quite enough alone. + +GENERAL + +Say, who would put his trust in nations, +Howe’er for them one may have worked and planned? +For with the people, as with women, +Youth always has the upper hand. + +MINISTER + +They’re now too far from what is just and sage. +I praise the old ones, not unduly: +When we were all-in-all, then, truly, +_Then_ was the real golden age. + +PARVENU + +We also were not stupid, either, +And what we should not, often did; +But now all things have from their bases slid, +Just as we meant to hold them fast together. + +AUTHOR + +Who, now, a work of moderate sense will read? +Such works are held as antiquate and mossy; +And as regards the younger folk, indeed, +They never yet have been so pert and saucy. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_who all at once appears very old_) + +I feel that men are ripe for Judgment-Day, +Now for the last time I’ve the witches’-hill ascended: +Since to the lees _my_ cask is drained away, +The world’s, as well, must soon be ended. + +HUCKSTER-WITCH + +Ye gentlemen, don’t pass me thus! +Let not the chance neglected be! +Behold my wares attentively: +The stock is rare and various. +And yet, there’s nothing I’ve collected— +No shop, on earth, like this you’ll find!— +Which has not, once, sore hurt inflicted +Upon the world, and on mankind. +No dagger’s here, that set not blood to flowing; +No cup, that hath not once, within a healthy frame +Poured speedy death, in poison glowing: +No gems, that have not brought a maid to shame; +No sword, but severed ties for the unwary, +Or from behind struck down the adversary. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Gossip! the times thou badly comprehendest: +What’s done has happed—what haps, is done! +’Twere better if for novelties thou sendest: +By such alone can we be won. + +FAUST + +Let me not lose myself in all this pother! +This is a fair, as never was another! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The whirlpool swirls to get above: +Thou’rt shoved thyself, imagining to shove. + +FAUST + +But who is that? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Note her especially, +Tis Lilith. + +FAUST + +Who? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Adam’s first wife is she. +Beware the lure within her lovely tresses, +The splendid sole adornment of her hair! +When she succeeds therewith a youth to snare, +Not soon again she frees him from her jesses. + +FAUST + +Those two, the old one with the young one sitting, +They’ve danced already more than fitting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No rest to-night for young or old! +They start another dance: come now, let us take hold! + +FAUST (_dancing with the young witch_) + + A lovely dream once came to me; + I then beheld an apple-tree, + And there two fairest apples shone: + They lured me so, I climbed thereon. + +THE FAIR ONE + + Apples have been desired by you, + Since first in Paradise they grew; + And I am moved with joy, to know + That such within my garden grow. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_dancing with the old one_) + + A dissolute dream once came to me: + Therein I saw a cloven tree, + Which had a————————; + Yet,——as ’twas, I fancied it. + +THE OLD ONE + + I offer here my best salute + Unto the knight with cloven foot! + Let him a—————prepare, + If him—————————does not scare. + +PROKTOPHANTASMIST + +Accurséd folk! How dare you venture thus? +Had you not, long since, demonstration +That ghosts can’t stand on ordinary foundation? +And now you even dance, like one of us! + +THE FAIR ONE (_dancing_) + +Why does he come, then, to our ball? + +FAUST (_dancing_) + +O, everywhere on him you fall! +When others dance, he weighs the matter: +If he can’t every step bechatter, +Then ’tis the same as were the step not made; +But if you forwards go, his ire is most displayed. +If you would whirl in regular gyration +As he does in his dull old mill, +He’d show, at any rate, good-will,— +Especially if you heard and heeded his hortation. + +PROKTOPHANTASMIST + +You still are here? Nay, ’tis a thing unheard! +Vanish, at once! We’ve said the enlightening word. +The pack of devils by no rules is daunted: +We are so wise, and yet is Tegel haunted. +To clear the folly out, how have I swept and stirred! +Twill ne’er be clean: why, ’tis a thing unheard! + +THE FAIR ONE + +Then cease to bore us at our ball! + +PROKTOPHANTASMIST + +I tell you, spirits, to your face, +I give to spirit-despotism no place; +My spirit cannot practise it at all. + +(_The dance continues_) + +Naught will succeed, I see, amid such revels; +Yet something from a tour I always save, +And hope, before my last step to the grave, +To overcome the poets and the devils. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +He now will seat him in the nearest puddle; +The solace this, whereof he’s most assured: +And when upon his rump the leeches hang and fuddle, +He’ll be of spirits and of Spirit cured. + +(_To_ FAUST, _who has left the dance_:) + +Wherefore forsakest thou the lovely maiden, +That in the dance so sweetly sang? + +FAUST + +Ah! in the midst of it there sprang +A red mouse from her mouth—sufficient reason. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That’s nothing! One must not so squeamish be; +So the mouse was not gray, enough for thee. +Who’d think of that in love’s selected season? + +FAUST + +Then saw I—. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What? + +FAUST + +Mephisto, seest thou there, +Alone and far, a girl most pale and fair? +She falters on, her way scarce knowing, +As if with fettered feet that stay her going. +I must confess, it seems to me +As if my kindly Margaret were she. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Let the thing be! All thence have evil drawn: +It is a magic shape, a lifeless eidolon. +Such to encounter is not good: +Their blank, set stare benumbs the human blood, +And one is almost turned to stone. +Medusa’s tale to thee is known. + +FAUST + +Forsooth, the eyes they are of one whom, dying, +No hand with loving pressure closed; +That is the breast whereon I once was lying,— +The body sweet, beside which I reposed! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Tis magic all, thou fool, seduced so easily! +Unto each man his love she seems to be. + +FAUST + +The woe, the rapture, so ensnare me, +That from her gaze I cannot tear me! +And, strange! around her fairest throat +A single scarlet band is gleaming, +No broader than a knife-blade seeming! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Quite right! The mark I also note. +Her head beneath her arm she’ll sometimes carry; +Twas Perseus lopped it, her old adversary. +Thou crav’st the same illusion still! +Come, let us mount this little hill; +The Prater shows no livelier stir, +And, if they’ve not bewitched my sense, +I verily see a theatre. +What’s going on? + +SERVIBILIS + ’Twill shortly recommence: +A new performance—’tis the last of seven. +To give that number is the custom here: +’Twas by a Dilettante written, +And Dilettanti in the parts appear. +That now I vanish, pardon, I entreat you! +As Dilettante I the curtain raise. + +MEPHISTOPHELES +When I upon the Blocksberg meet you, +I find it good: for that’s your proper place. + + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXII + + +WALPURGIS-NIGHT’S DREAM + +OBERON AND TITANIA’s GOLDEN WEDDING + +INTERMEZZO + +MANAGER + +Sons of Mieding, rest to-day! +Needless your machinery: +Misty vale and mountain gray, +That is all the scenery. + +HERALD + +That the wedding golden be. +Must fifty years be rounded: +But _the Golden_ give to me, +When the strife’s compounded. + +OBERON + +Spirits, if you’re here, be seen— +Show yourselves, delighted! +Fairy king and fairy queen, +They are newly plighted. + +PUCK + +Cometh Puck, and, light of limb, +Whisks and whirls in measure: +Come a hundred after him, +To share with him the pleasure. + +ARIEL + +Ariel’s song is heavenly-pure, +His tones are sweet and rare ones: +Though ugly faces he allure, +Yet he allures the fair ones. + +OBERON + +Spouses, who would fain agree, +Learn how we were mated! +If your pairs would loving be, +First be separated! + +TITANIA + +If her whims the wife control, +And the man berate her, +Take him to the Northern Pole, +And her to the Equator! + +ORCHESTRA. TUTTI. + +_Fortissimo_. + +Snout of fly, mosquito-bill, +And kin of all conditions, +Frog in grass, and cricket-trill,— +These are the musicians! + +SOLO + +See the bagpipe on our track! +’Tis the soap-blown bubble: +Hear the _schnecke-schnicke-schnack_ +Through his nostrils double! + +SPIRIT, JUST GROWING INTO FORM + +Spider’s foot and paunch of toad, +And little wings—we know ’em! +A little creature ’twill not be, +But yet, a little poem. + +A LITTLE COUPLE + +Little step and lofty leap +Through honey-dew and fragrance: +You’ll never mount the airy steep +With all your tripping vagrance. + +INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER + +Is’t but masquerading play? +See I with precision? +Oberon, the beauteous fay, +Meets, to-night, my vision! + +ORTHODOX + +Not a claw, no tail I see! +And yet, beyond a cavil, +Like “the Gods of Greece,” must he +Also be a devil. + +NORTHERN ARTIST + +I only seize, with sketchy air, +Some outlines of the tourney; +Yet I betimes myself prepare +For my Italian journey. + +PURIST + +My bad luck brings me here, alas! +How roars the orgy louder! +And of the witches in the mass, +But only two wear powder. + +YOUNG WITCH + +Powder becomes, like petticoat, +A gray and wrinkled noddy; +So I sit naked on my goat, +And show a strapping body. + +MATRON + +We’ve too much tact and policy +To rate with gibes a scolder; +Yet, young and tender though you be, +I hope to see you moulder. + +LEADER OF THE BAND + +Fly-snout and mosquito-bill, +Don’t swarm so round the Naked! +Frog in grass and cricket-trill, +Observe the time, and make it! + +WEATHERCOCK (_towards one side_) + +Society to one’s desire! +Brides only, and the sweetest! +And bachelors of youth and fire. +And prospects the completest! + +WEATHERCOCK (_towards the other side_) + +And if the Earth don’t open now +To swallow up each ranter, +Why, then will I myself, I vow, +Jump into hell instanter! + +XENIES + +Us as little insects see! +With sharpest nippers flitting, +That our Papa Satan we +May honor as is fitting. + +HENNINGS + +How, in crowds together massed, +They are jesting, shameless! +They will even say, at last, +That their hearts are blameless. + +MUSAGETES + +Among this witches’ revelry +His way one gladly loses; +And, truly, it would easier be +Than to command the Muses. + +CI-DEVANT GENIUS OF THE AGE + +The proper folks one’s talents laud: +Come on, and none shall pass us! +The Blocksberg has a summit broad, +Like Germany’s Parnassus. + +INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER + +Say, who’s the stiff and pompous man? +He walks with haughty paces: +He snuffles all he snuffle can: +“He scents the Jesuits’ traces.” + +CRANE + +Both clear and muddy streams, for me +Are good to fish and sport in: +And thus the pious man you see +With even devils consorting. + +WORLDLING + +Yes, for the pious, I suspect, +All instruments are fitting; +And on the Blocksberg they erect +Full many a place of meeting. + +DANCER + +A newer chorus now succeeds! +I hear the distant drumming. +“Don’t be disturbed! ’tis, in the reeds, +The bittern’s changeless booming.” + +DANCING-MASTER + +How each his legs in nimble trip +Lifts up, and makes a clearance! +The crooked jump, the heavy skip, +Nor care for the appearance. + +GOOD FELLOW + +The rabble by such hate are held, +To maim and slay delights them: +As Orpheus’ lyre the brutes compelled, +The bagpipe here unites them. + +DOGMATIST + +I’ll not be led by any lure +Of doubts or critic-cavils: +The Devil must be something, sure,— +Or how should there be devils? + +IDEALIST + +This once, the fancy wrought in me +Is really too despotic: +Forsooth, if I am all I see, +I must be idiotic! + +REALIST + +This racking fuss on every hand, +It gives me great vexation; +And, for the first time, here I stand +On insecure foundation. + +SUPERNATURALIST + +With much delight I see the play, +And grant to these their merits, +Since from the devils I also may +Infer the better spirits. + +SCEPTIC + +The flame they follow, on and on, +And think they’re near the treasure: +But _Devil_ rhymes with _Doubt_ alone, +So I am here with pleasure. + +LEADER OF THE BAND + +Frog in green, and cricket-trill. +Such dilettants!—perdition! +Fly-snout and mosquito-bill,— +Each one’s a fine musician! + +THE ADROIT + +_Sans souci_, we call the clan +Of merry creatures so, then; +Go a-foot no more we can, +And on our heads we go, then. + +THE AWKWARD + +Once many a bit we sponged, but now, +God help us! that is done with: +Our shoes are all danced out, we trow, +We’ve but naked soles to run with. + +WILL-O’-THE WISPS + +From the marshes we appear, +Where we originated; +Yet in the ranks, at once, we’re here +As glittering gallants rated. + +SHOOTING-STAR + +Darting hither from the sky, +In star and fire light shooting, +Cross-wise now in grass I lie: +Who’ll help me to my footing? + +THE HEAVY FELLOWS + +Room! and round about us, room! +Trodden are the grasses: +Spirits also, spirits come, +And they are bulky masses. + +PUCK + +Enter not so stall-fed quite, +Like elephant-calves about one! +And the heaviest weight to-night +Be Puck, himself, the stout one! + +ARIEL + +If loving Nature at your back, +Or Mind, the wings uncloses, +Follow up my airy track +To the mount of roses! + +ORCHESTRA + +_pianissimo_ +Cloud and trailing mist o’erhead +Are now illuminated: +Air in leaves, and wind in reed, +And all is dissipated. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXIII + + +DREARY DAY + +A FIELD + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +In misery! In despair! Long wretchedly astray on the face of the earth, +and now imprisoned! That gracious, ill-starred creature shut in a +dungeon as a criminal, and given up to fearful torments! To this has it +come! to this!—Treacherous, contemptible spirit, and thou hast +concealed it from me!—Stand, then,—stand! Roll the devilish eyes +wrathfully in thy head! Stand and defy me with thine intolerable +presence! Imprisoned! In irretrievable misery! Delivered up to evil +spirits, and to condemning, unfeeling Man! And thou hast lulled me, +meanwhile, with the most insipid dissipations, hast concealed from me +her increasing wretchedness, and suffered her to go helplessly to ruin! +[Illustration: _Roll the devilish eyes wrathfully in thy head_] + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +She is not the first. + +FAUST + +Dog! Abominable monster! Transform him, thou Infinite Spirit! transform +the reptile again into his dog-shape? in which it pleased him often at +night to scamper on before me, to roll himself at the feet of the +unsuspecting wanderer, and hang upon his shoulders when he fell! +Transform him again into his favorite likeness, that he may crawl upon +his belly in the dust before me,—that I may trample him, the outlawed, +under foot! Not the first! O woe! woe which no human soul can grasp, +that more than one being should sink into the depths of this +misery,—that the first, in its writhing death-agony under the eyes of +the Eternal Forgiver, did not expiate the guilt of all others! The +misery of this single one pierces to the very marrow of my life; and +thou art calmly grinning at the fate of thousands! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Now we are already again at the end of our wits, where the understanding +of you men runs wild. Why didst thou enter into fellowship with us, if +thou canst not carry it out? Wilt fly, and art not secure against +dizziness? Did we thrust ourselves upon thee, or thou thyself upon us? + +FAUST + +Gnash not thus thy devouring teeth at me? It fills me with horrible +disgust. Mighty, glorious Spirit, who hast vouchsafed to me Thine +apparition, who knowest my heart and my soul, why fetter me to the +felon-comrade, who feeds on mischief and gluts himself with ruin? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Hast thou done? + +FAUST + +Rescue her, or woe to thee! The fearfullest curse be upon thee for +thousands of ages! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I cannot loosen the bonds of the Avenger, nor undo his bolts. Rescue +her? Who was it that plunged her into ruin? I, or thou? + +(FAUST _looks around wildly_.) + +Wilt thou grasp the thunder? Well that it has not been given to you, +miserable mortals! To crush to pieces the innocent respondent—that is +the tyrant-fashion of relieving one’s self in embarrassments. + +FAUST + +Take me thither! She shall be free! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And the danger to which thou wilt expose thyself? Know that the guilt of +blood, from thy hand, still lies upon the town! Avenging spirits hover +over the spot where the victim fell, and lie in wait for the returning +murderer. + +FAUST + +That, too, from thee? Murder and death of a world upon thee, monster! +Take me thither, I say, and liberate her! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I will convey thee there; and hear, what I can do! Have I all the power +in Heaven and on Earth? I will becloud the jailer’s senses: get +possession of the key, and lead her forth with human hand! I will keep +watch: the magic steeds are ready, I will carry you off. So much is in +my power. + +FAUST + +Up and away! + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXIV + + +NIGHT + +OPEN FIELD + +(FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES _speeding onward on black horses_.) + + +FAUST + +What weave they there round the raven-stone? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I know not what they are brewing and doing. + + +FAUST + +Soaring up, sweeping down, bowing and bending! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A witches’-guild. + + +FAUST + +They scatter, devote and doom! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +On! on! + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXV + + +DUNGEON + +FAUST + +(_with a bunch of keys and a lamp, before an iron door_) + +A shudder, long unfelt, comes o’er me; +Mankind’s collected woe o’erwhelms me, here. +She dwells within the dark, damp walls before me, +And all her crime was a delusion dear! +What! I delay to free her? +I dread, once again to see her? +On! my shrinking but lingers Death more near. + +(_He grasps the lock: the sound of singing is heard inside_.) + + _My mother, the harlot, + Who put me to death; + My father, the varlet, + Who eaten me hath! + Little sister, so good, + Laid my bones in the wood, + In the damp moss and clay:_ + _Then was I a beautiful bird o’ the wood; + Fly away! Fly away_! + +FAUST _(unlocking)_ + +She does not dream her lover listens near; +That he the rattling chain, the rustling straw, can hear. + +_(He enters_.) + +MARGARET (_hiding herself on the pallet_) +Woe! woe! They come. O death of bitterness! + +FAUST (_whispering_) +Hush! hush! The hour is come that frees thee. + +MARGARET (_throwing herself before him_) +Art thou a man, then pity my distress! + +FAUST +Thy cries will wake the guards, and they will seize thee! +(_He takes hold of the fetters to unlock them_.) + +MARGARET (_on her knees_) + +Who, headsman! unto thee such power +Over me could give? +Thou’rt come for me at midnight-hour: +Have mercy on me, let me live! +Is’t not soon enough when morning chime has run? + +(_She rises_.) + +And I am yet so young, so young! +And now Death comes, and ruin! +I, too, was fair, and that was my undoing. +My love was near, but now he’s far; +Torn lies the wreath, scattered the blossoms are. +Seize me not thus so violently! +Spare me! What have I done to thee? +Let me not vainly entreat thee! +I never chanced, in all my days, to meet thee! + + +FAUST + +Shall I outlive this misery? + + +MARGARET + +Now am I wholly in thy might. +But let me suckle, first, my baby! +I blissed it all this livelong night; +They took ’t away, to vex me, maybe, +And now they say I killed the child outright. +And never shall I be glad again. +They sing songs about me! ’tis bad of the folk to do it! +There’s an old story has the same refrain; +Who bade them so construe it? + + +FAUST (_falling upon his knees_) + +Here lieth one who loves thee ever, +The thraldom of thy woe to sever. + + +MARGARET (_flinging herself beside him_) + +O let us kneel, and call the Saints to hide us! +Under the steps beside us, +The threshold under, +Hell heaves in thunder! +The Evil One +With terrible wrath +Seeketh a path +His prey to discover! + +FAUST (_aloud_) + +Margaret! Margaret! + + +MARGARET (_attentively listening_) + +That was the voice of my lover! + +(_She springs to her feet: the fetters fall off_.) + +Where is he? I heard him call me. +I am free! No one shall enthrall me. +To his neck will I fly, +On his bosom lie! +On the threshold he stood, and _Margaret_! calling, +Midst of Hell’s howling and noises appalling, +Midst of the wrathful, infernal derision, +I knew the sweet sound of the voice of the vision! + + +FAUST + +’Tis I! + +MARGARET + + ’Tis thou! O, say it once again! + + (_Clasping him_.) + +’Tis he! ’tis he! Where now is all my pain? +The anguish of the dungeon, and the chain? +’Tis thou! Thou comest to save me, +And I am saved!— +Again the street I see +Where first I looked on thee; +And the garden, brightly blooming, +Where I and Martha wait thy coming. + + +FAUST (_struggling to leave_) + +Come! Come with me! + + +MARGARET + + Delay, now! +So fain I stay, when thou delayest! + + (_Caressing him_.) + + +FAUST + +Away, now! +If longer here thou stayest, +We shall be made to dearly rue it. + +MARGARET + +Kiss me!—canst no longer do it? +My friend, so short a time thou’rt missing, +And hast unlearned thy kissing? +Why is my heart so anxious, on thy breast? +Where once a heaven thy glances did create me, +A heaven thy loving words expressed, +And thou didst kiss, as thou wouldst suffocate me— +Kiss me! +Or I’ll kiss thee! + +(_She embraces him_.) + +Ah, woe! thy lips are chill, +And still. +How changed in fashion +Thy passion! +Who has done me this ill? + +(_She turns away from him_.) + +FAUST + +Come, follow me! My darling, be more bold: +I’ll clasp thee, soon, with warmth a thousand-fold; +But follow now! ’Tis all I beg of thee. + +MARGARET (_turning to him_) + +And is it thou? Thou, surely, certainly? + +FAUST + +’Tis I! Come on! + +MARGARET + +Thou wilt unloose my chain, +And in thy lap wilt take me once again. +How comes it that thou dost not shrink from me?— +Say, dost thou know, my friend, whom thou mak’st free? + +FAUST + +Come! come! The night already vanisheth. + + +MARGARET + +My mother have I put to death; +I’ve drowned the baby born to thee. +Was it not given to thee and me? +Thee, too!—’Tis thou! It scarcely true doth seem— +Give me thy hand! ’Tis not a dream! +Thy dear, dear hand!—But, ah, ’tis wet! +Why, wipe it off! Methinks that yet +There’s blood thereon. +Ah, God! what hast thou done? +Nay, sheathe thy sword at last! +Do not affray me! + + +FAUST + +O, let the past be past! +Thy words will slay me! + + +MARGARET + +No, no! Thou must outlive us. +Now I’ll tell thee the graves to give us: +Thou must begin to-morrow +The work of sorrow! +The best place give to my mother, +Then close at her side my brother, +And me a little away, +But not too very far, I pray! +And here, on my right breast, my baby lay! +Nobody else will lie beside me!— +Ah, within thine arms to hide me, +That was a sweet and a gracious bliss, +But no more, no more can I attain it! +I would force myself on thee and constrain it, +And it seems thou repellest my kiss: +And yet ’tis thou, so good, so kind to see! + + +FAUST + +If thou feel’st it is I, then come with me! + + +MARGARET + +Out yonder? + + +FAUST + +To freedom. + + +MARGARET + + If the grave is there, +Death lying in wait, then come! +From here to eternal rest: +No further step—no, no! +Thou goest away! O Henry, if I could go! + + +FAUST + +Thou canst! Just will it! Open stands the door. + + +MARGARET + +I dare not go: there’s no hope any more. +Why should I fly? They’ll still my steps waylay! +It is so wretched, forced to beg my living, +And a bad conscience sharper misery giving! +It is so wretched, to be strange, forsaken, +And I’d still be followed and taken! + + +FAUST + +I’ll stay with thee. + + +MARGARET + +Be quick! Be quick! +Save thy perishing child! +Away! Follow the ridge +Up by the brook, + +[Illustration: _=If the grave is there, +Death lying in wait, then come=_!] + +Over the bridge, +Into the wood, +To the left, where the plank is placed +In the pool! +Seize it in haste! +’Tis trying to rise, +’Tis struggling still! +Save it! Save it! + + +FAUST + +Recall thy wandering will! +One step, and thou art free at last! + + +MARGARET + +If the mountain we had only passed! +There sits my mother upon a stone,— +I feel an icy shiver! +There sits my mother upon a stone, +And her head is wagging ever. +She beckons, she nods not, her heavy head falls o’er; +She slept so long that she wakes no more. +She slept, while we were caressing: +Ah, those were the days of blessing! + + +FAUST + +Here words and prayers are nothing worth; +I’ll venture, then, to bear thee forth. + + +MARGARET + +No—let me go! I’ll suffer no force! +Grasp me not so murderously! +I’ve done, else, all things for the love of thee. + + +FAUST + +The day dawns: Dearest! Dearest! + +MARGARET + +Day? Yes, the day comes,—the last day breaks for me! +My wedding-day it was to be! +Tell no one thou has been with Margaret! +Woe for my garland! The chances +Are over—’tis all in vain! +We shall meet once again, +But not at the dances! +The crowd is thronging, no word is spoken: +The square below +And the streets overflow: +The death-bell tolls, the wand is broken. +I am seized, and bound, and delivered— +Shoved to the block—they give the sign! +Now over each neck has quivered +The blade that is quivering over mine. +Dumb lies the world like the grave! + +FAUST + +O had I ne’er been born! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_appears outside_) + +Off! or you’re lost ere morn. +Useless talking, delaying and praying! +My horses are neighing: +The morning twilight is near. + +MARGARET + +What rises up from the threshold here? +He! he! suffer him not! +What does he want in this holy spot? +He seeks me! + + +FAUST + +Thou shalt live. + +MARGARET + +Judgment of God! myself to thee I give. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Come! or I’ll leave her in the lurch, and thee! + + +MARGARET + +Thine am I, Father! rescue me! +Ye angels, holy cohorts, guard me, +Camp around, and from evil ward me! +Henry! I shudder to think of thee. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +She is judged! + + +VOICE (_from above_) + + She is saved! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + + Hither to me! + +(_He disappears with_ FAUST.) + + +VOICE (_from within, dying away_) + +Henry! Henry! + +[illustration] + +[Illustration] +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14591 *** diff --git a/14591-h/14591-h.htm b/14591-h/14591-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0a4a179 --- /dev/null +++ b/14591-h/14591-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7970 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title>Faust | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> +<style> + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +p.caption {font-weight: bold; + text-align: center; } + + .center {text-align: center;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + .indented {padding-left: 50pt;padding-right: 50pt;} + .indenteds {padding-left: 75pt;padding-right: 75pt;} + .indentedss {padding-left: 100pt;padding-right: 100pt;} + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14591 ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-001.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-002.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-003.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 35%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-004.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-005.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<h1>FAUST</h1> + +<p class="center"><i>by</i><br> + </p> + <h2>Johann Wolfgang von Goethe</h2> + <p class="center">WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY<br> + </p> + <h3>Harry Clarke</h3> + <p class="center">TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH, IN THE ORIGINAL METRES, BY<br> + </p> + <h3>Bayard Taylor</h3> + <p class="center"><i>An Illustrated Edition</i><br> + </p> + <p class="center">THE WORLD PUBLISHING COMPANY<br> + </p> + <p class="center">CLEVELAND, OHIO NEW YORK, N.Y.<br> + </p> + <p class="center">PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA<br> + </p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-008.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-009.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class='chapter'><h2>CONTENTS</h2></div> + +<table> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#Preface">PREFACE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#AN_GOETHE">AN GOETHE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#DEDICATION">DEDICATION</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#PRELUDE_AT_THE_THEATRE">PRELUDE AT THE THEATRE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#PROLOGUE_IN_HEAVEN">PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN</a><br><br></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> FAUST</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#I">SCENE I. NIGHT (<i>Faust’s Monologue</i>)</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#II">II. BEFORE THE CITY-GATE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#III">III. THE STUDY (<i>The Exorcism</i>)</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#IV">IV. THE STUDY (<i>The Compact</i>)</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#V">V. AUERBACH’S CELLAR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#VI">VI. WITCHES’ KITCHEN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#VII">VII. A STREET</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#VIII">VIII. EVENING</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#IX">IX. PROMENADE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#X">X. THE NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XI">XI. STREET</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XII">XII. GARDEN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XIII">XIII. A GARDEN-ARBOR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XIV">XIV. FOREST AND CAVERN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XV">XV. MARGARET’S ROOM</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XVI">XVI. MARTHA’S GARDEN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XVII">XVII. AT THE FOUNTAIN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XVIII">XVIII. DONJON (<i>Margaret’s Prayer</i>)</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XIX">XIX. NIGHT (<i>Valentine’s Death</i>)</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XX">XX. CATHEDRAL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XXI">XXI. WALPURGIS-NIGHT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XXII">XXII. OBERON AND TITANIA’S GOLDEN WEDDING</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XXIII">XXIII. DREARY DAY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XXIV">XXIV. NIGHT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XXV">XXV. DUNGEON</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-010.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-012.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-013.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="Preface"></a>Preface</h2></div> + <p>It is twenty years since I first determined to attempt the translation of + <i>Faust</i>, in the original metres. At that time, although more than a score of + English translations of the First Part, and three or four of the Second Part, were in + existence, the experiment had not yet been made. The prose version of Hayward seemed + to have been accepted as the standard, in default of anything more satisfactory: the + English critics, generally sustaining the translator in his views concerning the + secondary importance of form in Poetry, practically discouraged any further attempt; + and no one, familiar with rhythmical expression through the needs of his own nature, + had devoted the necessary love and patience to an adequate reproduction of the great + work of Goethe’s life.</p> + <p>Mr. Brooks was the first to undertake the task, and the publication of his + translation of the First Part (in 1856) induced me, for a time, to give up my own + design. No previous English version exhibited such abnegation of the translator’s own + tastes and habits of thought, such reverent desire to present the original in its + purest form. The care and conscience with which the work had been performed were so + apparent, that I now state with reluctance what then seemed to me to be its only + deficiencies,—a lack of the lyrical fire and fluency of the original in some + passages, and an occasional lowering of the tone through the use of words which are + literal, but not equivalent. The plan of translation adopted by Mr. Brooks was so + entirely my own, that when further residence in Germany and a more careful study of + both parts of <i>Faust</i> had satisfied me that the field was still open,—that + the means furnished by the poetical affinity of the two languages had not yet been + exhausted,—nothing remained for me but to follow him in all essential + particulars. His example confirmed me in the belief that there were few difficulties + in the way of a nearly literal yet thoroughly rhythmical version of <i>Faust</i>, + which might not be overcome by loving labor. A comparison of seventeen English + translations, in the arbitrary metres adopted by the translators, sufficiently showed + the danger of allowing license in this respect: the white light of Goethe’s thought + was thereby passed through the tinted glass of other minds, and assumed the coloring + of each. Moreover, the plea of selecting different metres in the hope of producing a + similar effect is unreasonable, where the identical metres are possible.</p> + <p>The value of form, in a poetical work, is the first question to be considered. No + poet ever understood this question more thoroughly than Goethe himself, or expressed + a more positive opinion in regard to it. The alternative modes of translation which + he presents (reported by Riemer, quoted by Mrs. Austin, in her “Characteristics of + Goethe,” and accepted by Mr. Hayward),<a id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a + href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> are quite independent of his views + concerning the value of form, which we find given elsewhere, in the clearest and most + emphatic manner.<a id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" + class="fnanchor">[B]</a> Poetry is not simply a fashion of expression: it is the form + of expression absolutely required by a certain class of ideas. Poetry, indeed, may be + distinguished from Prose by the single circumstance, that it is the utterance of + whatever in man cannot be perfectly uttered in any other than a rhythmical form: it + is useless to say that the naked meaning is independent of the form: on the contrary, + the form contributes essentially to the fullness of the meaning. In Poetry which + endures through its own inherent vitality, there is no forced union of these two + elements. They are as intimately blended, and with the same mysterious beauty, as the + sexes in the ancient Hermaphroditus. To attempt to represent Poetry in Prose, is very + much like attempting to translate music into speech.<a id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a></p> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span + class="label">[A]</span></a> “‘There are two maxims of translation,’ says he: ‘the + one requires that the author, of a foreign nation, be brought to us in such a + manner that we may regard him as our own; the other, on the contrary, demands of us + that we transport ourselves over to him, and adopt his situation, his mode of + speaking, and his peculiarities. The advantages of both are sufficiently known to + all instructed persons, from masterly examples.’” Is it necessary, however, that + there should always be this alternative? Where the languages are kindred, and + equally capable of all varieties of metrical expression, may not both these + “maxims” be observed in the same translation? Goethe, it is true, was of the + opinion that <i>Faust</i> ought to be given, in French, in the manner of Clement + Marot; but this was undoubtedly because he felt the inadequacy of modern French to + express the naive, simple realism of many passages. The same objection does not + apply to English. There are a few archaic expressions in <i>Faust</i>, but no more + than are still allowed—nay, frequently encouraged—in the English of our + day.</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span + class="label">[B]</span></a> “You are right,” said Goethe; “there are great and + mysterious agencies included in the various forms of Poetry. If the substance of my + ‘Roman Elegies’ were to be expressed in the tone and measure of Byron’s ‘Don Juan,’ + it would really have an atrocious effect.”—<i>Eckermann</i>.</p> + <p>“The rhythm,” said Goethe, “is an unconscious result of the poetic mood. If one + should stop to consider it mechanically, when about to write a poem, one would + become bewildered and accomplish nothing of real poetical + value.”—<i>Ibid</i>.</p> + <p>“<i>All that is poetic in character should be rythmically treated</i>! Such is + my conviction; and if even a sort of poetic prose should be gradually introduced, + it would only show that the distinction between prose and poetry had been + completely lost sight of.”—<i>Goethe to Schiller</i>, 1797.</p> + <p>Tycho Mommsen, in his excellent essay, <i>Die Kunst des Deutschen Uebersetzers + aus neueren Sprachen</i>, goes so far as to say: “The metrical or rhymed modelling + of a poetical work is so essentially the germ of its being, that, rather than by + giving it up, we might hope to construct a similar work of art before the eyes of + our countrymen, by giving up or changing the substance. The immeasurable result + which has followed works wherein the form has been retained—such as the Homer + of Voss, and the Shakespeare of Tieck and Schlegel—is an incontrovertible + evidence of the vitality of the endeavor.”</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span + class="label">[C]</span></a> “Goethe’s poems exercise a great sway over me, not + only by their meaning, but also by their rhythm. It is a language which stimulates + me to composition.”—<i>Beethoven</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>The various theories of translation from the Greek and Latin poets have been + admirably stated by Dryden in his Preface to the “Translations from Ovid’s Epistles,” + and I do not wish to continue the endless discussion,—especially as our + literature needs examples, not opinions. A recent expression, however, carries with + it so much authority, that I feel bound to present some considerations which the + accomplished scholar seems to have overlooked. Mr. Lewes<a id="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a> justly says: + “The effect of poetry is a compound of music and suggestion; this music and this + suggestion are intermingled in words, which to alter is to alter the effect. For + words in poetry are not, as in prose, simple representatives of objects and ideas: + they are parts of an organic whole,—they are tones in the harmony.” He + thereupon illustrates the effect of translation by changing certain well-known + English stanzas into others, equivalent in meaning, but lacking their felicity of + words, their grace and melody. I cannot accept this illustration as valid, because + Mr. Lewes purposely omits the very quality which an honest translator should exhaust + his skill in endeavoring to reproduce. He turns away from the <i>one best</i> word or + phrase in the English lines he quotes, whereas the translator seeks precisely that + one best word or phrase (having <i>all</i> the resources of his language at command), + to represent what is said in <i>another</i> language. More than this, his task is not + simply mechanical: he must feel, and be guided by, a secondary inspiration. + Surrendering himself to the full possession of the spirit which shall speak through + him, he receives, also, a portion of the same creative power. Mr. Lewes reaches this + conclusion: “If, therefore, we reflect what a poem <i>Faust</i> is, and that it + contains almost every variety of style and metre, it will be tolerably evident that + no one unacquainted with the original can form an adequate idea of it from + translation,”<a id="FNanchor_E_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_5" + class="fnanchor">[E]</a> which is certainly correct of any translation wherein + something of the rhythmical variety and beauty of the original is not retained. That + very much of the rhythmical character may be retained in English, was long ago shown + by Mr. Carlyle,<a id="FNanchor_F_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_6" + class="fnanchor">[F]</a> in the passages which he translated, both literally and + rhythmically, from the <i>Helena</i> (Part Second). In fact, we have so many + instances of the possibility of reciprocally transferring the finest qualities of + English and German poetry, that there is no sufficient excuse for an unmetrical + translation of <i>Faust</i>. I refer especially to such subtile and melodious lyrics + as “The Castle by the Sea,” of Uhland, and the “Silent Land” of Salis, translated by + Mr. Longfellow; Goethe’s “Minstrel” and “Coptic Song,” by Dr. Hedge; Heine’s “Two + Grenadiers,” by Dr. Furness and many of Heine’s songs by Mr Leland; and also to the + German translations of English lyrics, by Freiligrath and Strodtmann.<a + id="FNanchor_G_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_7" + class="fnanchor">[G]</a></p> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4"><span + class="label">[D]</span></a> Life of Goethe (Book VI.).</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_E_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_5"><span + class="label">[E]</span></a> Mr. Lewes gives the following advice: “The English + reader would perhaps best succeed who should first read Dr. Anster’s brilliant + paraphrase, and then carefully go through Hayward’s prose translation.” This is + singularly at variance with the view he has just expressed. Dr. Anster’s version is + an almost incredible dilution of the original, written in <i>other</i> metres; + while Hayward’s entirely omits the element of poetry.</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_F_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_6"><span + class="label">[F]</span></a> Foreign Review, 1828.</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_G_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_7"><span + class="label">[G]</span></a> When Freiligrath can thus give us Walter + Scott:—</p> + <p><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">“Kommt, wie der Wind kommt,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Wenn Wälder erzittern</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Kommt, wie die Brandung</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Wenn Flotten zersplittern!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Schnell heran, schnell herab,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Schneller kommt Al’e!—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Häuptling und Bub’ und Knapp,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Herr und Vasalle!”</span><br> + </p> + <br> + <br> + + <p>or Strodtmann thus reproduce Tennyson:—</p> + <p><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">“Es fällt der Strahl auf Burg und + Thal,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Und schneeige Gipfel, reich an + Sagen;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Viel’ Lichter wehn auf blauen Seen,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Bergab die Wasserstürze jagen!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Blas, Hüfthorn, blas, in Wiederhall + erschallend:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Blas, Horn—antwortet, Echos, hallend, + hallend, hallend!”</span><br> + </p> + <br> + <br> + + <p>—it must be a dull ear which would be satisfied with the omission of + rhythm and rhyme.</p> + </div> + <p>I have a more serious objection, however, to urge against Mr. Hayward’s prose + translation. Where all the restraints of verse are flung aside, we should expect, at + least, as accurate a reproduction of the sense, spirit, and tone of the original, as + the genius of our language will permit. So far from having given us such a + reproduction, Mr. Hayward not only occasionally mistakes the exact meaning of the + German text,<a id="FNanchor_H_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_H_8" + class="fnanchor">[H]</a> but, wherever two phrases may be used to express the meaning + with equal fidelity, he very frequently selects that which has the less grace, + strength, or beauty.<a id="FNanchor_I_9"></a><a + href="#Footnote_I_9" class="fnanchor">[I]</a></p> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_H_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_H_8"><span + class="label">[H]</span></a> On his second page, the line <i>Mein Lied ertönt + der unbekannten Menge</i>, “My song sounds to the unknown multitude,” is + translated: “My <i>sorrow</i> voices itself to the strange throng.” Other English + translators, I notice, have followed Mr. Hayward in mistaking <i>Lied</i> for + <i>Leid</i>.</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_I_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_I_9"><span + class="label">[I]</span></a> I take but one out of numerous instances, for the sake + of illustration. The close of the Soldier’s Song (Part I. Scene II.) is:—</p> + <p><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">“Kühn is das Mühen,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Herrlich der Lohn!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Und die Soldaten</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ziehen davon.”</span><br> + </p> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Literally:</p> + <p><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Bold is the endeavor,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Splendid the pay!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And the soldiers</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">March away.</span><br> + </p> + <br> + <br> + + <p>This Mr. Hayward translates:—</p> + <p><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Bold the adventure,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Noble the reward—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And the soldiers</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Are off.</span><br> + </p> + </div> + <p>For there are few things which may not be said, in English, in a twofold + manner,—one poetic, and the other prosaic. In German, equally, a word which in + ordinary use has a bare prosaic character may receive a fairer and finer quality from + its place in verse. The prose translator should certainly be able to feel the + manifestation of this law in both languages, and should so choose his words as to + meet their reciprocal requirements. A man, however, who is not keenly sensible to the + power and beauty and value of rhythm, is likely to overlook these delicate yet most + necessary distinctions. The author’s thought is stripped of a last grace in passing + through his mind, and frequently presents very much the same resemblance to the + original as an unhewn shaft to the fluted column. Mr. Hayward unconsciously + illustrates his lack of a refined appreciation of verse, “in giving,” as he says, + “<i>a sort of rhythmical arrangement</i> to the lyrical parts,” his object being “to + convey some notion of the variety of versification which forms one great charm of the + poem.” A literal translation is always possible in the unrhymed passages; but even + here Mr. Hayward’s ear did not dictate to him the necessity of preserving the + original rhythm.</p> + <p>While, therefore, I heartily recognize his lofty appreciation of + <i>Faust</i>,—while I honor him for the patient and conscientious labor he has + bestowed upon his translation,—I cannot but feel that he has himself + illustrated the unsoundness of his argument. Nevertheless, the circumstance that his + prose translation of <i>Faust</i> has received so much acceptance proves those + qualities of the original work which cannot be destroyed by a test so violent. From + the cold bare outline thus produced, the reader unacquainted with the German language + would scarcely guess what glow of color, what richness of changeful life, what fluent + grace and energy of movement have been lost in the process. We must, of course, + gratefully receive such an outline, where a nearer approach to the form of the + original is impossible, but, until the latter has been demonstrated, we are wrong to + remain content with the cheaper substitute.</p> + <p>It seems to me that in all discussions upon this subject the capacities of the + English language have received but scanty justice. The intellectual tendencies of our + race have always been somewhat conservative, and its standards of literary taste or + belief, once set up, are not varied without a struggle. The English ear is suspicious + of new metres and unaccustomed forms of expression: there are critical detectives on + the track of every author, and a violation of the accepted canons is followed by a + summons to judgment. Thus the tendency is to contract rather than to expand the + acknowledged excellences of the language.<a id="FNanchor_J_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_J_10" class="fnanchor">[J]</a></p> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_J_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_J_10"><span + class="label">[J]</span></a> I cannot resist the temptation of quoting the + following passage from Jacob Grimm: “No one of all the modern languages has + acquired a greater force and strength than the English, through the derangement and + relinquishment of its ancient laws of sound. The unteachable (nevertheless + <i>learnable</i>) profusion of its middle-tones has conferred upon it an intrinsic + power of expression, such as no other human tongue ever possessed. Its entire, + thoroughly intellectual and wonderfully successful foundation and perfected + development issued from a marvelous union of the two noblest tongues of Europe, the + Germanic and the Romanic. Their mutual relation in the English language is well + known, since the former furnished chiefly the material basis, while the latter + added the intellectual conceptions. The English language, by and through which the + greatest and most eminent poet of modern times—as contrasted with ancient + classical poetry—(of course I can refer only to Shakespeare) was begotten and + nourished, has a just claim to be called a language of the world; and it appears to + be destined, like the English race, to a higher and broader sway in all quarters of + the earth. For in richness, in compact adjustment of parts, and in pure + intelligence, none of the living languages can be compared with it,—not even + our German, which is divided even as we are divided, and which must cast off many + imperfections before it can boldly enter on its career.”—<i>Ueber den + Ursprung der Sprache</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>The difficulties in the way of a nearly literal translation of <i>Faust</i> in the + original metres have been exaggerated, because certain affinities between the two + languages have not been properly considered. With all the splendor of versification + in the work, it contains but few metres of which the English tongue is not equally + capable. Hood has familiarized us with dactylic (triple) rhymes, and they are + remarkably abundant and skillful in Mr. Lowell’s “Fable for the Critics”: even the + unrhymed iambic hexameter of the <i>Helena</i> occurs now and then in Milton’s + <i>Samson Agonistes</i>. It is true that the metrical foot into which the German + language most naturally falls is the <i>trochaic</i>, while in English it is the + <i>iambic</i>: it is true that German is rich, involved, and tolerant of new + combinations, while English is simple, direct, and rather shy of compounds; but + precisely these differences are so modified in the German of <i>Faust</i> that there + is a mutual approach of the two languages. In <i>Faust</i>, the iambic measure + predominates; the style is compact; the many licenses which the author allows himself + are all directed towards a shorter mode of construction. On the other hand, English + metre compels the use of inversions, admits many verbal liberties prohibited to + prose, and so inclines towards various flexible features of its sister-tongue that + many lines of <i>Faust</i> may be repeated in English without the slightest change of + meaning, measure, or rhyme. There are words, it is true, with so delicate a bloom + upon them that it can in no wise be preserved; but even such words will always lose + less when they carry with them their rhythmical atmosphere. The flow of Goethe’s + verse is sometimes so similar to that of the corresponding English metre, that not + only its harmonies and caesural pauses, but even its punctuation, may be easily + retained.</p> + <p>I am satisfied that the difference between a translation of <i>Faust</i> in prose + or metre is chiefly one of labor,—and of that labor which is successful in + proportion as it is joyously performed. My own task has been cheered by the + discovery, that the more closely I reproduced the language of the original, the more + of its rhythmical character was transferred at the same time. If, now and then, there + was an inevitable alternative of meaning or music, I gave the preference to the + former. By the term “original metres” I do not mean a rigid, unyielding adherence to + every foot, line, and rhyme of the German original, although this has very nearly + been accomplished. Since the greater part of the work is written in an irregular + measure, the lines varying from three to six feet, and the rhymes arranged according + to the author’s will, I do not consider that an occasional change in the number of + feet, or order of rhyme, is any violation of the metrical plan. The single slight + liberty I have taken with the lyrical passages is in Margaret’s song,—“The King + of Thule,”—in which, by omitting the alternate feminine rhymes, yet retaining + the metre, I was enabled to make the translation strictly literal. If, in two or + three instances, I have left a line unrhymed, I have balanced the omission by giving + rhymes to other lines which stand unrhymed in the original text. For the same reason, + I make no apology for the imperfect rhymes, which are frequently a translation as + well as a necessity. With all its supreme qualities, <i>Faust</i> is far from being a + technically perfect work.<a id="FNanchor_K_11"></a><a + href="#Footnote_K_11" class="fnanchor">[K]</a></p> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_K_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_K_11"><span + class="label">[K]</span></a> “At present, everything runs in technical grooves, and + the critical gentlemen begin to wrangle whether in a rhyme an <i>s</i> should + correspond with an <i>s</i> and not with <i>sz</i>. If I were young and reckless + enough, I would purposely offend all such technical caprices: I would use + alliteration, assonance, false rhyme, just according to my own will or + convenience—but, at the same time, I would attend to the main thing, and + endeavor to say so many good things that every one would be attracted to read and + remember them.”—<i>Goethe</i>, in 1831.</p> + </div> + <p>The feminine and dactylic rhymes, which have been for the most part omitted by all + metrical translators except Mr. Brooks, are indispensable. The characteristic tone of + many passages would be nearly lost, without them. They give spirit and grace to the + dialogue, point to the aphoristic portions (especially in the Second Part), and an + ever-changing music to the lyrical passages. The English language, though not so rich + as the German in such rhymes, is less deficient than is generally supposed. The + difficulty to be overcome is one of construction rather than of the vocabulary. The + present participle can only be used to a limited extent, on account of its weak + termination, and the want of an accusative form to the noun also restricts the + arrangement of words in English verse. I cannot hope to have been always successful; + but I have at least labored long and patiently, bearing constantly in mind not only + the meaning of the original and the mechanical structure of the lines, but also that + subtile and haunting music which seems to govern rhythm instead of being governed by + it.</p> + <p>B.T.</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-022.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="AN_GOETHE"></a>AN GOETHE</h2></div> + <p><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I</span><br> + <br> + <i>Erhabener Geist, im Geisterreich verloren!</i><br> + Wo immer Deine lichte Wohnung sey,<br> + Zum höh’ren Schaffen bist Du neugeboren,<br> + Und singest dort die voll’re Litanei.<br> + Von jenem Streben das Du auserkoren,<br> + Vom reinsten Aether, drin Du athmest frei,<br> + O neige Dich zu gnädigem Erwiedern<br> + Des letzten Wiederhalls von Deinen Liedern!<br> + <br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 8em;">II</span><br> + <br> + <i>Den alten Musen die bestäubten Kronen<br> + Nahmst Du, zu neuem Glanz, mit kühner Hand:<br> + Du löst die Räthsel ältester Aeonen<br> + Durch jüngeren Glauben, helleren Verstand,<br> + Und machst, wo rege Menschengeister wohnen,<br> + Die ganze Erde Dir zum Vaterland;<br> + Und Deine Jünger sehn in Dir, verwundert,<br> + Verkörpert schon das werdende Jahrhundert</i>.<br> + <br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 8em;">III</span><br> + <br> + <i>Was Du gesungen, Aller Lust und Klagen,<br> + Des Lebens Wiedersprüche, neu vermählt,—<br> + Die Harfe tausendstimmig frisch geschlagen,<br> + Die Shakspeare einst, die einst Homer gewählt,—<br> + Darf ich in fremde Klänge übertragen<br> + Das Alles, wo so Mancher schon gefehlt?<br> + Lass Deinen Geist in meiner Stimme klingen,<br> + Und was Du sangst, lass mich es Dir nachsingen!</i><br> + </p> + <p>B.T.</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-024.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-025.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="DEDICATION"></a>DEDICATION</h2></div> + <p>Again ye come, ye hovering Forms! I find ye,<br> + As early to my clouded sight ye shone!<br> + Shall I attempt, this once, to seize and bind ye?<br> + Still o’er my heart is that illusion thrown?<br> + Ye crowd more near! Then, be the reign assigned ye,<br> + And sway me from your misty, shadowy zone!<br> + My bosom thrills, with youthful passion shaken,<br> + From magic airs that round your march awaken.<br> + <br> + Of joyous days ye bring the blissful vision;<br> + The dear, familiar phantoms rise again,<br> + And, like an old and half-extinct tradition,<br> + First Love returns, with Friendship in his train.<br> + Renewed is Pain: with mournful repetition<br> + Life tracks his devious, labyrinthine chain,<br> + And names the Good, whose cheating fortune tore them<br> + From happy hours, and left me to deplore them.<br> + <br> + They hear no longer these succeeding measures,<br> + The souls, to whom my earliest songs I sang:<br> + <br> + Dispersed the friendly troop, with all its pleasures,<br> + And still, alas! the echoes first that rang!<br> + I bring the unknown multitude my treasures;<br> + Their very plaudits give my heart a pang,<br> + And those beside, whose joy my Song so flattered,<br> + If still they live, wide through the world are scattered.<br> + <br> + And grasps me now a long-unwonted yearning<br> + For that serene and solemn Spirit-Land:<br> + My song, to faint Aeolian murmurs turning,<br> + Sways like a harp-string by the breezes fanned.<br> + I thrill and tremble; tear on tear is burning,<br> + And the stern heart is tenderly unmanned.<br> + What I possess, I see far distant lying,<br> + And what I lost, grows real and undying.<br> + </p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-026.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-027.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="PRELUDE_AT_THE_THEATRE"></a>PRELUDE AT THE + THEATRE</h2></div> + + <p>MANAGER ==== DRAMATIC POET ==== MERRY-ANDREW<br> + <br> + <br> + MANAGER<br> + <br> + You two, who oft a helping hand<br> + Have lent, in need and tribulation.<br> + Come, let me know your expectation<br> + Of this, our enterprise, in German land!<br> + I wish the crowd to feel itself well treated,<br> + Especially since it lives and lets me live;<br> + The posts are set, the booth of boards completed.<br> + And each awaits the banquet I shall give.<br> + Already there, with curious eyebrows raised,<br> + They sit sedate, and hope to be amazed.<br> + I know how one the People’s taste may flatter,<br> + Yet here a huge embarrassment I feel:<br> + What they’re accustomed to, is no great matter,<br> + But then, alas! they’ve read an awful deal.<br> + How shall we plan, that all be fresh and new,—<br> + Important matter, yet attractive too?<br> + For ’tis my pleasure-to behold them surging,<br> + When to our booth the current sets apace,<br> + And with tremendous, oft-repeated urging,<br> + Squeeze onward through the narrow gate of grace:<br> + By daylight even, they push and cram in<br> + To reach the seller’s box, a fighting host,<br> + And as for bread, around a baker’s door, in famine,<br> + To get a ticket break their necks almost.<br> + This miracle alone can work the Poet<br> + On men so various: now, my friend, pray show it.<br> + <br> + <br> + POET<br> + <br> + <br> + Speak not to me of yonder motley masses,<br> + Whom but to see, puts out the fire of Song!<br> + Hide from my view the surging crowd that passes,<br> + And in its whirlpool forces us along!<br> + No, lead me where some heavenly silence glasses<br> + The purer joys that round the Poet throng,—<br> + Where Love and Friendship still divinely fashion<br> + The bonds that bless, the wreaths that crown his passion!<br> + Ah, every utterance from the depths of feeling<br> + The timid lips have stammeringly expressed,—<br> + Now failing, now, perchance, success revealing,—<br> + Gulps the wild Moment in its greedy breast;<br> + Or oft, reluctant years its warrant sealing,<br> + Its perfect stature stands at last confessed!<br> + What dazzles, for the Moment spends its spirit:<br> + What’s genuine, shall Posterity inherit.<br> + <br> + <br> + MERRY-ANDREW<br> + <br> + <br> + Posterity! Don’t name the word to me!<br> + If <i>I</i> should choose to preach Posterity,<br> + Where would you get contemporary fun?<br> + That men <i>will</i> have it, there’s no blinking:<br> + A fine young fellow’s presence, to my thinking,<br> + Is something worth, to every one.<br> + Who genially his nature can outpour,<br> + Takes from the People’s moods no irritation;<br> + The wider circle he acquires, the more<br> + Securely works his inspiration.<br> + Then pluck up heart, and give us sterling coin!<br> + Let Fancy be with her attendants fitted,—<br> + Sense, Reason, Sentiment, and Passion join,—<br> + But have a care, lest Folly be omitted!<br> + <br> + MANAGER<br> + <br> + Chiefly, enough of incident prepare!<br> + They come to look, and they prefer to stare.<br> + Reel off a host of threads before their faces,<br> + So that they gape in stupid wonder: then<br> + By sheer diffuseness you have won their graces,<br> + And are, at once, most popular of men.<br> + Only by mass you touch the mass; for any<br> + Will finally, himself, his bit select:<br> + Who offers much, brings something unto many,<br> + And each goes home content with the effect,<br> + If you’ve a piece, why, just in pieces give it:<br> + A hash, a stew, will bring success, believe it!<br> + ’Tis easily displayed, and easy to invent.<br> + What use, a Whole compactly to present?<br> + Your hearers pick and pluck, as soon as they receive it!<br> + <br> + POET<br> + <br> + You do not feel, how such a trade debases;<br> + How ill it suits the Artist, proud and true!<br> + The botching work each fine pretender traces<br> + Is, I perceive, a principle with you.<br> + <br> + MANAGER<br> + <br> + Such a reproach not in the least offends;<br> + A man who some result intends<br> + Must use the tools that best are fitting.<br> + Reflect, soft wood is given to you for splitting,<br> + And then, observe for whom you write!<br> + If one comes bored, exhausted quite,<br> + Another, satiate, leaves the banquet’s tapers,<br> + And, worst of all, full many a wight<br> + Is fresh from reading of the daily papers.<br> + Idly to us they come, as to a masquerade,<br> + Mere curiosity their spirits warming:<br> + The ladies with themselves, and with their finery, aid,<br> + Without a salary their parts performing.<br> + What dreams are yours in high poetic places?<br> + You’re pleased, forsooth, full houses to behold?<br> + Draw near, and view your patrons’ faces!<br> + The half are coarse, the half are cold.<br> + One, when the play is out, goes home to cards;<br> + A wild night on a wench’s breast another chooses:<br> + Why should you rack, poor, foolish bards,<br> + For ends like these, the gracious Muses?<br> + I tell you, give but more—more, ever more, they ask:<br> + Thus shall you hit the mark of gain and glory.<br> + Seek to confound your auditory!<br> + To satisfy them is a task.—<br> + What ails you now? Is’t suffering, or pleasure?<br> + <br> + POET<br> + <br> + Go, find yourself a more obedient slave!<br> + What! shall the Poet that which Nature gave,<br> + The highest right, supreme Humanity,<br> + Forfeit so wantonly, to swell your treasure?<br> + Whence o’er the heart his empire free?<br> + The elements of Life how conquers he?<br> + Is’t not his heart’s accord, urged outward far and dim,<br> + To wind the world in unison with him?<br> + When on the spindle, spun to endless distance,<br> + By Nature’s listless hand the thread is twirled,<br> + And the discordant tones of all existence<br> + In sullen jangle are together hurled,<br> + Who, then, the changeless orders of creation<br> + Divides, and kindles into rhythmic dance?<br> + Who brings the One to join the general ordination,<br> + Where it may throb in grandest consonance?<br> + Who bids the storm to passion stir the bosom?<br> + In brooding souls the sunset burn above?<br> + Who scatters every fairest April blossom<br> + Along the shining path of Love?<br> + Who braids the noteless leaves to crowns, requiting<br> + Desert with fame, in Action’s every field?<br> + Who makes Olympus sure, the Gods uniting?<br> + The might of Man, as in the Bard revealed.<br> + <br> + MERRY-ANDREW<br> + <br> + So, these fine forces, in conjunction,<br> + Propel the high poetic function,<br> + As in a love-adventure they might play!<br> + You meet by accident; you feel, you stay,<br> + And by degrees your heart is tangled;<br> + Bliss grows apace, and then its course is jangled;<br> + You’re ravished quite, then comes a touch of woe,<br> + And there’s a neat romance, completed ere you know!<br> + Let us, then, such a drama give!<br> + Grasp the exhaustless life that all men live!<br> + Each shares therein, though few may comprehend:<br> + Where’er you touch, there’s interest without end.<br> + In motley pictures little light,<br> + Much error, and of truth a glimmering mite,<br> + Thus the best beverage is supplied,<br> + Whence all the world is cheered and edified.<br> + Then, at your play, behold the fairest flower<br> + Of youth collect, to hear the revelation!<br> + Each tender soul, with sentimental power,<br> + Sucks melancholy food from your creation;<br> + And now in this, now that, the leaven works.<br> + For each beholds what in his bosom lurks.<br> + They still are moved at once to weeping or to laughter,<br> + Still wonder at your flights, enjoy the show they see:<br> + A mind, once formed, is never suited after;<br> + One yet in growth will ever grateful be.<br> + <br> + POET<br> + <br> + Then give me back that time of pleasures,<br> + While yet in joyous growth I sang,—<br> + When, like a fount, the crowding measures<br> + Uninterrupted gushed and sprang!<br> + Then bright mist veiled the world before me,<br> + In opening buds a marvel woke,<br> + As I the thousand blossoms broke,<br> + Which every valley richly bore me!<br> + I nothing had, and yet enough for youth—<br> + Joy in Illusion, ardent thirst for Truth.<br> + Give, unrestrained, the old emotion,<br> + The bliss that touched the verge of pain,<br> + The strength of Hate, Love’s deep devotion,—<br> + O, give me back my youth again!<br> + <br> + MERRY ANDREW<br> + <br> + Youth, good my friend, you certainly require<br> + When foes in combat sorely press you;<br> + When lovely maids, in fond desire,<br> + Hang on your bosom and caress you;<br> + When from the hard-won goal the wreath<br> + Beckons afar, the race awaiting;<br> + When, after dancing out your breath,<br> + You pass the night in dissipating:—<br> + But that familiar harp with soul<br> + To play,—with grace and bold expression,<br> + And towards a self-erected goal<br> + To walk with many a sweet digression,—<br> + This, aged Sirs, belongs to you,<br> + And we no less revere you for that reason:<br> + Age childish makes, they say, but ’tis not true;<br> + We’re only genuine children still, in Age’s season!<br> + <br> + <br> + MANAGER<br> + <br> + The words you’ve bandied are sufficient;<br> + ’Tis deeds that I prefer to see:<br> + In compliments you’re both proficient,<br> + But might, the while, more useful be.<br> + What need to talk of Inspiration?<br> + ’Tis no companion of Delay.<br> + If Poetry be your vocation,<br> + Let Poetry your will obey!<br> + Full well you know what here is wanting;<br> + The crowd for strongest drink is panting,<br> + And such, forthwith, I’d have you brew.<br> + What’s left undone to-day, To-morrow will not do.<br> + Waste not a day in vain digression:<br> + With resolute, courageous trust<br> + Seize every possible impression,<br> + And make it firmly your possession;<br> + You’ll then work on, because you must.<br> + Upon our German stage, you know it,<br> + Each tries his hand at what he will;<br> + So, take of traps and scenes your fill,<br> + And all you find, be sure to show it!<br> + Use both the great and lesser heavenly light,—<br> + Squander the stars in any number,<br> + Beasts, birds, trees, rocks, and all such lumber,<br> + Fire, water, darkness, Day and Night!<br> + Thus, in our booth’s contracted sphere,<br> + The circle of Creation will appear,<br> + And move, as we deliberately impel,<br> + From Heaven, across the World, to Hell!<br> + </p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-034.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-035.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="PROLOGUE_IN_HEAVEN"></a>PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN</h2></div> + +<p> + THE LORD === THE HEAVENLY HOST <br> + <i>Afterwards</i><br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + (<i>The</i> THREE ARCHANGELS <i>come forward</i>.)<br> + <br> + <br> + RAPHAEL<br> + <br> + The sun-orb sings, in emulation,<br> + ’Mid brother-spheres, his ancient round:<br> + His path predestined through Creation<br> + He ends with step of thunder-sound.<br> + The angels from his visage splendid<br> + Draw power, whose measure none can say;<br> + The lofty works, uncomprehended,<br> + Are bright as on the earliest day.<br> + <br> + <br> + GABRIEL<br> + <br> + And swift, and swift beyond conceiving,<br> + The splendor of the world goes round,<br> + Day’s Eden-brightness still relieving<br> + The awful Night’s intense profound:<br> + The ocean-tides in foam are breaking,<br> + Against the rocks’ deep bases hurled,<br> + And both, the spheric race partaking,<br> + Eternal, swift, are onward whirled!<br> + <br> + <br> + MICHAEL<br> + <br> + And rival storms abroad are surging<br> + From sea to land, from land to sea.<br> + A chain of deepest action forging<br> + Round all, in wrathful energy.<br> + There flames a desolation, blazing<br> + Before the Thunder’s crashing way:<br> + Yet, Lord, Thy messengers are praising<br> + The gentle movement of Thy Day.<br> + <br> + <br> + THE THREE<br> + <br> + Though still by them uncomprehended,<br> + From these the angels draw their power,<br> + And all Thy works, sublime and splendid,<br> + Are bright as in Creation’s hour.<br> + <br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Since Thou, O Lord, deign’st to approach again<br> + And ask us how we do, in manner kindest,<br> + And heretofore to meet myself wert fain,<br> + Among Thy menials, now, my face Thou findest.<br> + Pardon, this troop I cannot follow after<br> + With lofty speech, though by them scorned and spurned:<br> + My pathos certainly would move Thy laughter,<br> + If Thou hadst not all merriment unlearned.<br> + Of suns and worlds I’ve nothing to be quoted;<br> + How men torment themselves, is all I’ve noted.<br> + The little god o’ the world sticks to the same old way,<br> + And is as whimsical as on Creation’s day.<br> + Life somewhat better might content him,<br> + But for the gleam of heavenly light which Thou hast lent him:<br> + He calls it Reason—thence his power’s increased,<br> + To be far beastlier than any beast.<br> + Saving Thy Gracious Presence, he to me<br> + A long-legged grasshopper appears to be,<br> + That springing flies, and flying springs,<br> + And in the grass the same old ditty sings.<br> + Would he still lay among the grass he grows in!<br> + Each bit of dung he seeks, to stick his nose in.<br> + <br> + <br> + THE LORD<br> + <br> + Hast thou, then, nothing more to mention?<br> + Com’st ever, thus, with ill intention?<br> + Find’st nothing right on earth, eternally?<br> + <br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + No, Lord! I find things, there, still bad as they can be.<br> + Man’s misery even to pity moves my nature;<br> + I’ve scarce the heart to plague the wretched creature.<br> + <br> + <br> + THE LORD<br> + <br> + Know’st Faust?<br> + <br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + The Doctor Faust?<br> + <br> + <br> + THE LORD<br> + <br> + My servant, he!<br> + <br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Forsooth! He serves you after strange devices:<br> + No earthly meat or drink the fool suffices:<br> + His spirit’s ferment far aspireth;<br> + Half conscious of his frenzied, crazed unrest,<br> + The fairest stars from Heaven he requireth,<br> + From Earth the highest raptures and the best,<br> + And all the Near and Far that he desireth<br> + Fails to subdue the tumult of his breast.<br> + <br> + <br> + THE LORD<br> + <br> + Though still confused his service unto Me,<br> + I soon shall lead him to a clearer morning.<br> + Sees not the gardener, even while buds his tree,<br> + Both flower and fruit the future years adorning?<br> + <br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + What will you bet? There’s still a chance to gain him,<br> + If unto me full leave you give,<br> + Gently upon <i>my</i> road to train him!<br> + <br> + <br> + THE LORD<br> + <br> + As long as he on earth shall live,<br> + So long I make no prohibition.<br> + While Man’s desires and aspirations stir,<br> + He cannot choose but err.<br> + <br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + My thanks! I find the dead no acquisition,<br> + And never cared to have them in my keeping.<br> + I much prefer the cheeks where ruddy blood is leaping,<br> + And when a corpse approaches, close my house:<br> + It goes with me, as with the cat the mouse.<br> + <br> + <br> + THE LORD<br> + <br> + Enough! What thou hast asked is granted.<br> + Turn off this spirit from his fountain-head;<br> + To trap him, let thy snares be planted,<br> + And him, with thee, be downward led;<br> + Then stand abashed, when thou art forced to say:<br> + A good man, through obscurest aspiration,<br> + Has still an instinct of the one true way.<br> + <br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Agreed! But ’tis a short probation.<br> + About my bet I feel no trepidation.<br> + If I fulfill my expectation,<br> + You’ll let me triumph with a swelling breast:<br> + Dust shall he eat, and with a zest,<br> + As did a certain snake, my near relation.<br> + <br> + <br> + THE LORD<br> + <br> + Therein thou’rt free, according to thy merits;<br> + The like of thee have never moved My hate.<br> + Of all the bold, denying Spirits,<br> + The waggish knave least trouble doth create.<br> + Man’s active nature, flagging, seeks too soon the level;<br> + Unqualified repose he learns to crave;<br> + Whence, willingly, the comrade him I gave,<br> + Who works, excites, and must create, as Devil.<br> + But ye, God’s sons in love and duty,<br> + Enjoy the rich, the ever-living Beauty!<br> + Creative Power, that works eternal schemes,<br> + Clasp you in bonds of love, relaxing never,<br> + And what in wavering apparition gleams<br> + Fix in its place with thoughts that stand forever!<br> + <br> + <br> + (<i>Heaven closes: the</i> ARCHANGELS <i>separate</i>.)<br> + <br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>solus</i>)<br> + <br> + I like, at times, to hear The Ancient’s word,<br> + And have a care to be most civil:<br> + It’s really kind of such a noble Lord<br> + So humanly to gossip with the Devil!<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-040.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-041.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'><h2>FIRST PART OF THE TRAGEDY</h2></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class='chapter'><h2><a id="I"></a>I</h2></div> + +<p> + NIGHT<br> + <br> + (<i>A lofty-arched, narrow, Gothic chamber</i>. FAUST, <i>in a chair at his<br> + desk, restless</i>.)<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + I’ve studied now Philosophy<br> + And Jurisprudence, Medicine,—<br> + And even, alas! Theology,—<br> + From end to end, with labor keen;<br> + And here, poor fool! with all my lore<br> + I stand, no wiser than before:<br> + I’m Magister—yea, Doctor—hight,<br> + And straight or cross-wise, wrong or right,<br> + These ten years long, with many woes,<br> + I’ve led my scholars by the nose,—<br> + And see, that nothing can be known!<br> + <i>That</i> knowledge cuts me to the bone.<br> + I’m cleverer, true, than those fops of teachers,<br> + Doctors and Magisters, Scribes and Preachers;<br> + Neither scruples nor doubts come now to smite me,<br> + Nor Hell nor Devil can longer affright me.<br> + <br> + For this, all pleasure am I foregoing;<br> + I do not pretend to aught worth knowing,<br> + I do not pretend I could be a teacher<br> + To help or convert a fellow-creature.<br> + Then, too, I’ve neither lands nor gold,<br> + Nor the world’s least pomp or honor hold—<br> + No dog would endure such a curst existence!<br> + Wherefore, from Magic I seek assistance,<br> + That many a secret perchance I reach<br> + Through spirit-power and spirit-speech,<br> + And thus the bitter task forego<br> + Of saying the things I do not know,—<br> + That I may detect the inmost force<br> + Which binds the world, and guides its course;<br> + Its germs, productive powers explore,<br> + And rummage in empty words no more!<br> + <br> + O full and splendid Moon, whom I<br> + Have, from this desk, seen climb the sky<br> + So many a midnight,—would thy glow<br> + For the last time beheld my woe!<br> + Ever thine eye, most mournful friend,<br> + O’er books and papers saw me bend;<br> + But would that I, on mountains grand,<br> + Amid thy blessed light could stand,<br> + With spirits through mountain-caverns hover,<br> + Float in thy twilight the meadows over,<br> + And, freed from the fumes of lore that swathe me,<br> + To health in thy dewy fountains bathe me!<br> + <br> + Ah, me! this dungeon still I see.<br> + This drear, accursed masonry,<br> + Where even the welcome daylight strains<br> + But duskly through the painted panes.<br> + Hemmed in by many a toppling heap<br> + Of books worm-eaten, gray with dust,<br> + Which to the vaulted ceiling creep,<br> + Against the smoky paper thrust,—<br> + With glasses, boxes, round me stacked,<br> + And instruments together hurled,<br> + Ancestral lumber, stuffed and packed—<br> + Such is my world: and what a world!<br> + <br> + And do I ask, wherefore my heart<br> + Falters, oppressed with unknown needs?<br> + Why some inexplicable smart<br> + All movement of my life impedes?<br> + Alas! in living Nature’s stead,<br> + Where God His human creature set,<br> + In smoke and mould the fleshless dead<br> + And bones of beasts surround me yet!<br> + <br> + Fly! Up, and seek the broad, free land!<br> + And this one Book of Mystery<br> + From Nostradamus’ very hand,<br> + Is’t not sufficient company?<br> + When I the starry courses know,<br> + And Nature’s wise instruction seek,<br> + With light of power my soul shall glow,<br> + As when to spirits spirits speak.<br> + Tis vain, this empty brooding here,<br> + Though guessed the holy symbols be:<br> + Ye, Spirits, come—ye hover near—<br> + Oh, if you hear me, answer me!<br> + <br> + (<i>He opens the Book, and perceives the sign of the Macrocosm</i>.)<br> + <br> + Ha! what a sudden rapture leaps from this<br> + I view, through all my senses swiftly flowing!<br> + I feel a youthful, holy, vital bliss<br> + In every vein and fibre newly glowing.<br> + Was it a God, who traced this sign,<br> + With calm across my tumult stealing,<br> + My troubled heart to joy unsealing,<br> + With impulse, mystic and divine,<br> + The powers of Nature here, around my path, revealing?<br> + Am I a God?—so clear mine eyes!<br> + In these pure features I behold<br> + Creative Nature to my soul unfold.<br> + What says the sage, now first I recognize:<br> + “The spirit-world no closures fasten;<br> + Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead:<br> + Disciple, up! untiring, hasten<br> + To bathe thy breast in morning-red!”<br> + <br> + (<i>He contemplates the sign</i>.)<br> + <br> + How each the Whole its substance gives,<br> + Each in the other works and lives!<br> + Like heavenly forces rising and descending,<br> + Their golden urns reciprocally lending,<br> + With wings that winnow blessing<br> + From Heaven through Earth I see them pressing,<br> + Filling the All with harmony unceasing!<br> + How grand a show! but, ah! a show alone.<br> + Thee, boundless Nature, how make thee my own?<br> + Where you, ye beasts? Founts of all Being, shining,<br> + Whereon hang Heaven’s and Earth’s desire,<br> + Whereto our withered hearts aspire,—<br> + Ye flow, ye feed: and am I vainly pining?<br> + <br> + (<i>He turns the leaves impatiently, and perceives the sign of the<br> + Earth-Spirit</i>.)<br> + <br> + How otherwise upon me works this sign!<br> + Thou, Spirit of the Earth, art nearer:<br> + Even now my powers are loftier, clearer;<br> + I glow, as drunk with new-made wine:<br> + New strength and heart to meet the world incite me,<br> + The woe of earth, the bliss of earth, invite me,<br> + And though the shock of storms may smite me,<br> + No crash of shipwreck shall have power to fright me!<br> + Clouds gather over me—<br> + The moon conceals her light—<br> + The lamp’s extinguished!—<br> + Mists rise,—red, angry rays are darting<br> + Around my head!—There falls<br> + A horror from the vaulted roof,<br> + And seizes me!<br> + I feel thy presence, Spirit I invoke!<br> + Reveal thyself!<br> + Ha! in my heart what rending stroke!<br> + With new impulsion<br> + My senses heave in this convulsion!<br> + I feel thee draw my heart, absorb, exhaust me:<br> + Thou must! thou must! and though my life it cost me!<br> + <br> + (<i>He seizes the book, and mysteriously pronounces the sign of<br> + the Spirit. A ruddy flame flashes: the Spirit appears in<br> + the flame</i>.)<br> + <br> + <br> + SPIRIT<br> + <br> + Who calls me?<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST (<i>with averted head</i>)<br> + <br> + </p> + <div class="indented"> + Terrible to see!<br> + <br> + </div> + <p> + SPIRIT<br> + <br> + Me hast thou long with might attracted,<br> + Long from my sphere thy food exacted,<br> + And now—<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Woe! I endure not thee!</span><br> + <br> + <br> + SPIRIT<br> + <br> + To view me is thine aspiration,<br> + My voice to hear, my countenance to see;<br> + Thy powerful yearning moveth me,<br> + Here am I!—what mean perturbation<br> + Thee, superhuman, shakes? Thy soul’s high calling, where?<br> + Where is the breast, which from itself a world did bear,<br> + And shaped and cherished—which with joy expanded,<br> + To be our peer, with us, the Spirits, banded?<br> + Where art thou, Faust, whose voice has pierced to me,<br> + Who towards me pressed with all thine energy?<br> + <i>He</i> art thou, who, my presence breathing, seeing,<br> + Trembles through all the depths of being,<br> + A writhing worm, a terror-stricken form?<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Thee, form of flame, shall I then fear?<br> + Yes, I am Faust: I am thy peer!<br> + <br> + <br> + SPIRIT<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">In the tides of Life, in Action’s + storm,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">A fluctuant wave,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">A shuttle free,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Birth and the Grave,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">An eternal sea,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">A weaving, flowing</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Life, all-glowing,</span><br> + Thus at Time’s humming loom ’tis my hand prepares<br> + The garment of Life which the Deity wears!<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Thou, who around the wide world wendest,<br> + Thou busy Spirit, how near I feel to thee!<br> + <br> + <br> + SPIRIT<br> + <br> + Thou’rt like the Spirit which thou comprehendest,<br> + Not me!<br> + <br> + (<i>Disappears</i>.)<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST (<i>overwhelmed</i>)<br> + <br> + Not thee!<br> + Whom then?<br> + I, image of the Godhead!<br> + Not even like thee!<br> + <br> + (<i>A knock</i>).<br> + <br> + O Death!—I know it—’tis my Famulus!<br> + My fairest luck finds no fruition:<br> + In all the fullness of my vision<br> + The soulless sneak disturbs me thus!<br> + <br> + (<i>Enter</i> WAGNER<i>, in dressing-gown and night-cap, a lamp in<br> + his hand.</i> FAUST <i>turns impatiently</i>.)<br> + <br> + <br> + WAGNER<br> + <br> + Pardon, I heard your declamation;<br> + ’Twas sure an old Greek tragedy you read?<br> + In such an art I crave some preparation,<br> + Since now it stands one in good stead.<br> + I’ve often heard it said, a preacher<br> + Might learn, with a comedian for a teacher.<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Yes, when the priest comedian is by nature,<br> + As haply now and then the case may be.<br> + <br> + <br> + WAGNER<br> + <br> + Ah, when one studies thus, a prisoned creature,<br> + That scarce the world on holidays can see,—<br> + Scarce through a glass, by rare occasion,<br> + How shall one lead it by persuasion?<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + You’ll ne’er attain it, save you know the feeling,<br> + Save from the soul it rises clear,<br> + Serene in primal strength, compelling<br> + The hearts and minds of all who hear.<br> + You sit forever gluing, patching;<br> + You cook the scraps from others’ fare;<br> + And from your heap of ashes hatching<br> + A starveling flame, ye blow it bare!<br> + Take children’s, monkeys’ gaze admiring,<br> + If such your taste, and be content;<br> + But ne’er from heart to heart you’ll speak inspiring,<br> + Save your own heart is eloquent!<br> + <br> + <br> + WAGNER<br> + <br> + Yet through delivery orators succeed;<br> + I feel that I am far behind, indeed.<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Seek thou the honest recompense!<br> + Beware, a tinkling fool to be!<br> + With little art, clear wit and sense<br> + Suggest their own delivery;<br> + And if thou’rt moved to speak in earnest,<br> + What need, that after words thou yearnest?<br> + Yes, your discourses, with their glittering show,<br> + Where ye for men twist shredded thought like paper,<br> + Are unrefreshing as the winds that blow<br> + The rustling leaves through chill autumnal vapor!<br> + <br> + <br> + WAGNER<br> + <br> + Ah, God! but Art is long,<br> + And Life, alas! is fleeting.<br> + And oft, with zeal my critic-duties meeting,<br> + In head and breast there’s something wrong.<br> + <br> + How hard it is to compass the assistance<br> + Whereby one rises to the source!<br> + And, haply, ere one travels half the course<br> + Must the poor devil quit existence.<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Is parchment, then, the holy fount before thee,<br> + A draught wherefrom thy thirst forever slakes?<br> + No true refreshment can restore thee,<br> + Save what from thine own soul spontaneous breaks.<br> + <br> + <br> + WAGNER<br> + <br> + Pardon! a great delight is granted<br> + When, in the spirit of the ages planted,<br> + We mark how, ere our times, a sage has thought,<br> + And then, how far his work, and grandly, we have brought.<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + O yes, up to the stars at last!<br> + Listen, my friend: the ages that are past<br> + Are now a book with seven seals protected:<br> + What you the Spirit of the Ages call<br> + Is nothing but the spirit of you all,<br> + Wherein the Ages are reflected.<br> + So, oftentimes, you miserably mar it!<br> + At the first glance who sees it runs away.<br> + An offal-barrel and a lumber-garret,<br> + Or, at the best, a Punch-and-Judy play,<br> + With maxims most pragmatical and hitting,<br> + As in the mouths of puppets are befitting!<br> + <br> + <br> + WAGNER<br> + <br> + But then, the world—the human heart and brain!<br> + Of these one covets some slight apprehension.<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Yes, of the kind which men attain!<br> + Who dares the child’s true name in public mention?<br> + The few, who thereof something really learned,<br> + Unwisely frank, with hearts that spurned concealing,<br> + And to the mob laid bare each thought and feeling,<br> + Have evermore been crucified and burned.<br> + I pray you, Friend, ’tis now the dead of night;<br> + Our converse here must be suspended.<br> + <br> + <br> + WAGNER<br> + <br> + I would have shared your watches with delight,<br> + That so our learned talk might be extended.<br> + To-morrow, though, I’ll ask, in Easter leisure,<br> + This and the other question, at your pleasure.<br> + Most zealously I seek for erudition:<br> + Much do I know—but to know all is my ambition.<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 22em;">[<i>Exit</i>.</span><br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST (<i>solus</i>)<br> + <br> + That brain, alone, not loses hope, whose choice is<br> + To stick in shallow trash forevermore,—<br> + Which digs with eager hand for buried ore,<br> + And, when it finds an angle-worm, rejoices!<br> + <br> + Dare such a human voice disturb the flow,<br> + Around me here, of spirit-presence fullest?<br> + And yet, this once my thanks I owe<br> + To thee, of all earth’s sons the poorest, dullest!<br> + For thou hast torn me from that desperate state<br> + Which threatened soon to overwhelm my senses:<br> + The apparition was so giant-great,<br> + It dwarfed and withered all my soul’s pretences!<br> + <br> + I, image of the Godhead, who began—<br> + Deeming Eternal Truth secure in nearness—<br> +To sun myself in heavenly light and clearness,<br> +And laid aside the earthly man;—<br> +I, more than Cherub, whose free force had planned<br> +To flow through Nature’s veins in glad pulsation,<br> +To reach beyond, enjoying in creation<br> +The life of Gods, behold my expiation!<br> +A thunder-word hath swept me from my stand.<sup>27</sup><br> +<br> +With thee I dare not venture to compare me.<br> +Though I possessed the power to draw thee near me,<br> +The power to keep thee was denied my hand.<br> +When that ecstatic moment held me,<br> +I felt myself so small, so great;<br> +But thou hast ruthlessly repelled me<br> +Back upon Man’s uncertain fate.<br> +What shall I shun? Whose guidance borrow?<br> +Shall I accept that stress and strife?<br> +Ah! every deed of ours, no less than every sorrow,<br> +Impedes the onward march of life.<br> +<br> +Some alien substance more and more is cleaving<br> +To all the mind conceives of grand and fair;<br> +When this world’s Good is won by our achieving,<br> +The Better, then, is named a cheat and snare.<br> +The fine emotions, whence our lives we mould,<br> +Lie in the earthly tumult dumb and cold.<br> +If hopeful Fancy once, in daring flight,<br> +Her longings to the Infinite expanded,<br> +Yet now a narrow space contents her quite,<br> +Since Time’s wild wave so many a fortune stranded.<br> +Care at the bottom of the heart is lurking:<br> +Her secret pangs in silence working,<br> +She, restless, rocks herself, disturbing joy and rest:<br> +In newer masks her face is ever drest,<br> +By turns as house and land, as wife and child, presented,—<br> +As water, fire, as poison, steel:<br> +We dread the blows we never feel,<br> +And what we never lose is yet by us lamented!<br> +<br> +I am not like the Gods! That truth is felt too deep:<br> +The worm am I, that in the dust doth creep,—<br> +That, while in dust it lives and seeks its bread,<br> +Is crushed and buried by the wanderer’s tread.<br> +<br> +Is not this dust, these walls within them hold,<br> +The hundred shelves, which cramp and chain me,<br> +The frippery, the trinkets thousandfold,<br> +That in this mothy den restrain me?<br> +Here shall I find the help I need?<br> +Shall here a thousand volumes teach me only<br> +That men, self-tortured, everywhere must bleed,—<br> +And here and there one happy man sits lonely?<sup>28</sup><br> +What mean’st thou by that grin, thou hollow skull,<br> +Save that thy brain, like mine, a cloudy mirror,<br> +Sought once the shining day, and then, in twilight dull,<sup>29</sup><br> +Thirsting for Truth, went wretchedly to Error?<br> +Ye instruments, forsooth, but jeer at me<br> +With wheel and cog, and shapes uncouth of wonder;<br> +I found the portal, you the keys should be;<br> +Your wards are deftly wrought, but drive no bolts asunder!<br> +Mysterious even in open day,<br> +Nature retains her veil, despite our clamors:<br> +That which she doth not willingly display<br> +Cannot be wrenched from her with levers, screws, and hammers.<br> +Ye ancient tools, whose use I never knew,<br> +Here, since my father used ye, still ye moulder:<br> +Thou, ancient scroll, hast worn thy smoky hue<br> +Since at this desk the dim lamp wont to smoulder.<br> +’T were better far, had I my little idly spent,<br> +Than now to sweat beneath its burden, I confess it!<br> +What from your fathers’ heritage is lent,<br> +Earn it anew, to really possess it!<sup>30</sup><br> +What serves not, is a sore impediment:<br> +The Moment’s need creates the thing to serve and bless it!<br> +<br> +Yet, wherefore tums my gaze to yonder point so lightly?<br> +Is yonder flask a magnet for mine eyes?<br> +Whence, all around me, glows the air so brightly,<br> +As when in woods at night the mellow moonbeam lies?<br> +<br> +I hail thee, wondrous, rarest vial!<br> +I take thee down devoutly, for the trial:<br> +Man’s art and wit I venerate in thee.<br> +Thou summary of gentle slumber-juices,<br> +Essence of deadly finest powers and uses,<br> +Unto thy master show thy favor free!<br> +I see thee, and the stings of pain diminish;<br> +I grasp thee, and my struggles slowly finish:<br> +My spirit’s flood-tide ebbeth more and more.<br> +Out on the open ocean speeds my dreaming;<br> +The glassy flood before my feet is gleaming,<br> +A new day beckons to a newer shore!<br> +<br> +A fiery chariot, borne on buoyant pinions,<br> +Sweeps near me now! I soon shall ready be<br> +To pierce the ether’s high, unknown dominions,<br> +To reach new spheres of pure activity!<br> +This godlike rapture, this supreme existence,<br> +Do I, but now a worm, deserve to track?<br> +Yes, resolute to reach some brighter distance,<br> +On Earth’s fair sun I turn my back<sup>31</sup><br> +Yes, let me dare those gates to fling asunder,<br> +Which every man would fain go slinking by!<br> +’T is time, through deeds this word of truth to thunder:<br> +That with the height of Gods Man’s dignity may vie!<br> +Nor from that gloomy gulf to shrink affrighted,<br> +Where Fancy doth herself to self-born pangs compel,—<br> +To struggle toward that pass benighted,<br> +Around whose narrow mouth flame all the fires of Hell,—<br> +To take this step with cheerful resolution,<br> +Though Nothingness should be the certain, swift conclusion!<br> +And now come down, thou cup of crystal clearest!<br> +Fresh from thine ancient cover thou appearest,<br> +So many years forgotten to my thought!<br> +Thou shon’st at old ancestral banquets cheery,<br> +The solemn guests thou madest merry,<br> +When one thy wassail to the other brought.<br> +The rich and skilful figures o’er thee wrought,<br> +The drinker’s duty, rhyme-wise to explain them,<br> +Or in one breath below the mark to drain them,<br> +From many a night of youth my memory caught.<br> +Now to a neighbor shall I pass thee never,<br> +Nor on thy curious art to test my wit endeavor,<br> +Here is a juice whence sleep is swiftly born.<br> +It fills with browner flood thy crystal hollow;<br> +I chose, prepared it: thus I follow,—<br> +With all my soul the final drink I swallow,<br> +A solemn festal cup, a greeting to the morn!<br> +[He sets the goblet to his mouth.<br> +(Chime of bells and choral song.)<br> + <br> + <br> +CHORUS OF ANGELS.<sup>32</sup><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Christ is arisen!</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Joy to the Mortal One,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Whom the unmerited,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Clinging, inherited</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Needs did imprison.</span><br> + <br> + <br> +FAUST.<br> +What hollow humming, what a sharp, clear stroke,<br> +Drives from my lip the goblet’s, at their meeting?<br> +Announce the booming bells already woke<br> +The first glad hour of Easter’s festal greeting?<br> + Ye choirs, have ye begun the sweet, consoling chant,<br> + Which, through the night of Death, the angels ministrant<br> + Sang, God’s new Covenant repeating?<br> + <br> + <br> + CHORUS OF WOMEN<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">With spices and precious</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Balm, we arrayed him;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Faithful and gracious,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">We tenderly laid him:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Linen to bind him</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Cleanlily wound we:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ah! when we would find him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Christ no more found we!</span><br> + <br> + <br> + CHORUS OF ANGELS<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Christ is ascended!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Bliss hath invested him,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Woes that molested him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Trials that tested him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Gloriously ended!</span><br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Why, here in dust, entice me with your spell,<br> + Ye gentle, powerful sounds of Heaven?<br> + Peal rather there, where tender natures dwell.<br> + Your messages I hear, but faith has not been given;<br> + The dearest child of Faith is Miracle.<br> + I venture not to soar to yonder regions<br> + Whence the glad tidings hither float;<br> + And yet, from childhood up familiar with the note,<br> + To Life it now renews the old allegiance.<br> + Once Heavenly Love sent down a burning kiss<br> + Upon my brow, in Sabbath silence holy;<br> + And, filled with mystic presage, chimed the church-bell slowly,<br> + And prayer dissolved me in a fervent bliss.<br> + A sweet, uncomprehended yearning<br> + Drove forth my feet through woods and meadows free,<br> + And while a thousand tears were burning,<br> + I felt a world arise for me.<br> + These chants, to youth and all its sports appealing,<br> + Proclaimed the Spring’s rejoicing holiday;<br> + And Memory holds me now, with childish feeling,<br> + Back from the last, the solemn way.<br> + Sound on, ye hymns of Heaven, so sweet and mild!<br> + My tears gush forth: the Earth takes back her child!<br> + <br> + <br> + CHORUS OF DISCIPLES<br> + <br> +</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Has He, victoriously,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Burst from the vaulted</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Grave, and all-gloriously</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Now sits exalted?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Is He, in glow of birth,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Rapture creative near?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah! to the woe of earth</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Still are we native here.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">We, his aspiring</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Followers, Him we miss;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Weeping, desiring,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Master, Thy bliss!</span><br> + </p> + <p>CHORUS OF ANGELS</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Christ is arisen,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Out of Corruption’s womb:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Burst ye the prison,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Break from your gloom!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Praising and pleading him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Lovingly needing him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Brotherly feeding him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Preaching and speeding him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Blessing, succeeding Him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thus is the Master near,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thus is He here!</span><br> + </p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-053.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="II"></a>II</h2></div> + <p>BEFORE THE CITY-GATE</p> + <p>(<i>Pedestrians of all kinds come forth</i>.)</p> + <p>SEVERAL APPRENTICES</p> + <p>Why do you go that way?</p> + <p>OTHERS</p> + <p>We’re for the Hunters’ lodge, to-day.</p> + <p>THE FIRST</p> + <p>We’ll saunter to the Mill, in yonder hollow.</p> + <p>AN APPRENTICE</p> + <p>Go to the River Tavern, I should say.</p> + <p>SECOND APPRENTICE</p> + <p>But then, it’s not a pleasant way.</p> + <p>THE OTHERS</p> + <p>And what will <i>you</i>?</p> + <p>A THIRD</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 6em;">As goes the crowd, I follow.</span><br></p> + + <p>A FOURTH</p> + <p>Come up to Burgdorf? There you’ll find good cheer,<br> + The finest lasses and the best of beer,<br> + And jolly rows and squabbles, trust me!</p> + <p>A FIFTH</p> + <p>You swaggering fellow, is your hide<br> + A third time itching to be tried?<br> + I won’t go there, your jolly rows disgust me!</p> + <p>SERVANT-GIRL</p> + <p>No,—no! I’ll turn and go to town again.</p> + <p>ANOTHER</p> + <p>We’ll surely find him by those poplars yonder.</p> + <p>THE FIRST</p> + <p>That’s no great luck for me, ’tis plain.<br> + You’ll have him, when and where you wander:<br> + His partner in the dance you’ll be,—<br> + But what is all your fun to me?</p> + <p>THE OTHER</p> + <p>He’s surely not alone to-day:<br> + He’ll be with Curly-head, I heard him say.</p> + <p>A STUDENT</p> + <p>Deuce! how they step, the buxom wenches!<br> + Come, Brother! we must see them to the benches.<br> + A strong, old beer, a pipe that stings and bites,<br> + A girl in Sunday clothes,—these three are my delights.</p> + <p>CITIZEN’S DAUGHTER</p> + <p>Just see those handsome fellows, there!<br> + It’s really shameful, I declare;—<br> + To follow servant-girls, when they<br> + Might have the most genteel society to-day!</p> + <p>SECOND STUDENT (<i>to the First</i>)</p> + <p>Not quite so fast! Two others come behind,—<br> + Those, dressed so prettily and neatly.<br> + My neighbor’s one of them, I find,<br> + A girl that takes my heart, completely.<br> + They go their way with looks demure,<br> + But they’ll accept us, after all, I’m sure.</p> + <p>THE FIRST</p> + <p>No, Brother! not for me their formal ways.<br> + Quick! lest our game escape us in the press:<br> + The hand that wields the broom on Saturdays<br> + Will best, on Sundays, fondle and caress.</p> + <p>CITIZEN</p> + <p>He suits me not at all, our new-made Burgomaster!<br> + Since he’s installed, his arrogance grows faster.<br> + How has he helped the town, I say?<br> + Things worsen,—what improvement names he?<br> + Obedience, more than ever, claims he,<br> + And more than ever we must pay!</p> + <p>BEGGAR (<i>sings</i>)</p> + <p> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Good gentlemen and lovely ladies,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">So red of cheek and fine of dress,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Behold, how needful here your aid is,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">And see and lighten my distress!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let me not vainly sing my ditty;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">He’s only glad who gives away:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">A holiday, that shows your pity,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shall be for me a harvest-day!</span><br> +</p> + <p>ANOTHER CITIZEN</p> + <p>On Sundays, holidays, there’s naught I take delight in,<br> + Like gossiping of war, and war’s array,<br> + When down in Turkey, far away,<br> + The foreign people are a-fighting.<br> + One at the window sits, with glass and friends,<br> + And sees all sorts of ships go down the river gliding:<br> + And blesses then, as home he wends<br> + At night, our times of peace abiding.</p> + <p>THIRD CITIZEN</p> + <p>Yes, Neighbor! that’s my notion, too:<br> + Why, let them break their heads, let loose their passions,<br> + And mix things madly through and through,<br> + So, here, we keep our good old fashions!</p> + <p>OLD WOMAN (<i>to the Citizen’s Daughter</i>)</p> + <p>Dear me, how fine! So handsome, and so young!<br> + Who wouldn’t lose his heart, that met you?<br> + Don’t be so proud! I’ll hold my tongue,<br> + And what you’d like I’ll undertake to get you.</p> + <p>CITIZEN’S DAUGHTER</p> + <p>Come, Agatha! I shun the witch’s sight<br> + Before folks, lest there be misgiving:<br> + ’Tis true, she showed me, on Saint Andrew’s Night,<br> + My future sweetheart, just as he were living.</p> + <p>THE OTHER</p> + <p>She showed me mine, in crystal clear,<br> + With several wild young blades, a soldier-lover:<br> + I seek him everywhere, I pry and peer,<br> + And yet, somehow, his face I can’t discover.</p> + <p>SOLDIERS</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Castles, with lofty</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ramparts and towers,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Maidens disdainful</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">In Beauty’s array,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Both shall be ours!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Bold is the venture,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Splendid the pay!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Lads, let the trumpets</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">For us be suing,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Calling to pleasure,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Calling to ruin.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Stormy our life is;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Such is its boon!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Maidens and castles</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Capitulate soon.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Bold is the venture,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Splendid the pay!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And the soldiers go marching,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Marching away!</span><br> + </p> + <p>FAUST AND WAGNER</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Released from ice are brook and river<br> + By the quickening glance of the gracious Spring;<br> + The colors of hope to the valley cling,<br> + And weak old Winter himself must shiver,<br> + Withdrawn to the mountains, a crownless king:<br> + Whence, ever retreating, he sends again<br> + Impotent showers of sleet that darkle<br> + In belts across the green o’ the plain.<br> + But the sun will permit no white to sparkle;<br> + Everywhere form in development moveth;<br> + He will brighten the world with the tints he loveth,<br> + And, lacking blossoms, blue, yellow, and red,<br> + He takes these gaudy people instead.<br> + Turn thee about, and from this height<br> + Back on the town direct thy sight.<br> + Out of the hollow, gloomy gate,<br> + The motley throngs come forth elate:<br> + Each will the joy of the sunshine hoard,<br> + To honor the Day of the Risen Lord!<br> + They feel, themselves, their resurrection:<br> + From the low, dark rooms, scarce habitable;<br> + From the bonds of Work, from Trade’s restriction;<br> + From the pressing weight of roof and gable;<br> + From the narrow, crushing streets and alleys;<br> + From the churches’ solemn and reverend night,<br> + All come forth to the cheerful light.<br> + How lively, see! the multitude sallies,<br> + Scattering through gardens and fields remote,<br> + While over the river, that broadly dallies,<br> + Dances so many a festive boat;<br> + And overladen, nigh to sinking,<br> + The last full wherry takes the stream.<br> + Yonder afar, from the hill-paths blinking,<br> + Their clothes are colors that softly gleam.<br> + I hear the noise of the village, even;<br> + Here is the People’s proper Heaven;<br> + Here high and low contented see!<br> + Here I am Man,—dare man to be!</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>To stroll with you, Sir Doctor, flatters;<br> + ’Tis honor, profit, unto me.<br> + But I, alone, would shun these shallow matters,<br> + Since all that’s coarse provokes my enmity.<br> + This fiddling, shouting, ten-pin rolling<br> + I hate,—these noises of the throng:<br> + They rave, as Satan were their sports controlling.<br> + And call it mirth, and call it song!</p> + <p>PEASANTS, UNDER THE LINDEN-TREE<br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">(<i>Dance and Song</i>.)</span><br></p> + + <p><span style="margin-left: 5em;">All for the dance the shepherd + dressed,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">In ribbons, wreath, and gayest vest</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Himself with care arraying:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Around the linden lass and lad</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Already footed it like mad:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah! hurrah!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah—tarara-la!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">The fiddle-bow was playing.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">He broke the ranks, no whit afraid,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And with his elbow punched a maid,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Who stood, the dance surveying:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">The buxom wench, she turned and said:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">“Now, you I call a stupid-head!”</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah! hurrah!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah—tarara-la!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">“Be decent while you’re staying!”</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Then round the circle went their + flight,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">They danced to left, they danced to + right:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Their kirtles all were playing.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">They first grew red, and then grew + warm,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And rested, panting, arm in arm,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah! hurrah!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah—tarara-la!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And hips and elbows straying.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Now, don’t be so familiar here!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">How many a one has fooled his dear,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Waylaying and betraying!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And yet, he coaxed her soon aside,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And round the linden sounded wide.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah! hurrah!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah—tarara-la!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And the fiddle-bow was playing.</span><br> + </p> + <p>OLD PEASANT</p> + <p>Sir Doctor, it is good of you,<br> + That thus you condescend, to-day,<br> + Among this crowd of merry folk,<br> + A highly-learned man, to stray.<br> + Then also take the finest can,<br> + We fill with fresh wine, for your sake:<br> + I offer it, and humbly wish<br> + That not alone your thirst is slake,—<br> + That, as the drops below its brink,<br> + So many days of life you drink!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I take the cup you kindly reach,<br> + With thanks and health to all and each.</p> + <p>(<i>The People gather in a circle about him</i>.)</p> + <p>OLD PEASANT</p> + <p>In truth, ’tis well and fitly timed,<br> + That now our day of joy you share,<br> + Who heretofore, in evil days,<br> + Gave us so much of helping care.<br> + Still many a man stands living here,<br> + Saved by your father’s skillful hand,<br> + That snatched him from the fever’s rage<br> + And stayed the plague in all the land.<br> + Then also you, though but a youth,<br> + Went into every house of pain:<br> + Many the corpses carried forth,<br> + But you in health came out again.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>No test or trial you evaded:<br> + A Helping God the helper aided.</p> + <p>ALL</p> + <p>Health to the man, so skilled and tried.<br> + That for our help he long may abide!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>To Him above bow down, my friends,<br> + Who teaches help, and succor sends!</p> + <p>(<i>He goes on with</i> WAGNER.)</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>With what a feeling, thou great man, must thou<br> + Receive the people’s honest veneration!<br> + How lucky he, whose gifts his station<br> + With such advantages endow!<br> + Thou’rt shown to all the younger generation:<br> + Each asks, and presses near to gaze;<br> + The fiddle stops, the dance delays.<br> + Thou goest, they stand in rows to see,<br> + And all the caps are lifted high;<br> + A little more, and they would bend the knee<br> + As if the Holy Host came by.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>A few more steps ascend, as far as yonder stone!—<br> + Here from our wandering will we rest contented.<br> + Here, lost in thought, I’ve lingered oft alone,<br> + When foolish fasts and prayers my life tormented.<br> + Here, rich in hope and firm in faith,<br> + With tears, wrung hands and sighs, I’ve striven,<br> + The end of that far-spreading death<br> + Entreating from the Lord of Heaven!<br> + Now like contempt the crowd’s applauses seem:<br> + Couldst thou but read, within mine inmost spirit,<br> + How little now I deem,<br> + That sire or son such praises merit!<br> + My father’s was a sombre, brooding brain,<br> + Which through the holy spheres of Nature groped and wandered,<br> + And honestly, in his own fashion, pondered<br> + With labor whimsical, and pain:<br> + Who, in his dusky work-shop bending,<br> + With proved adepts in company,<br> + Made, from his recipes unending,<br> + Opposing substances agree.<br> + There was a Lion red, a wooer daring,<br> + Within the Lily’s tepid bath espoused,<br> + And both, tormented then by flame unsparing,<br> + By turns in either bridal chamber housed.<br> + If then appeared, with colors splendid,<br> + The young Queen in her crystal shell,<br> + This was the medicine—the patients’ woes soon ended,<br> + And none demanded: who got well?<br> + Thus we, our hellish boluses compounding,<br> + Among these vales and hills surrounding,<br> + Worse than the pestilence, have passed.<br> + Thousands were done to death from poison of my giving;<br> + And I must hear, by all the living,<br> + The shameless murderers praised at last!</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>Why, therefore, yield to such depression?<br> + A good man does his honest share<br> + In exercising, with the strictest care,<br> + The art bequeathed to his possession!<br> + Dost thou thy father honor, as a youth?<br> + Then may his teaching cheerfully impel thee:<br> + Dost thou, as man, increase the stores of truth?<br> + Then may thine own son afterwards excel thee.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>O happy he, who still renews<br> + The hope, from Error’s deeps to rise forever!<br> + That which one does not know, one needs to use;<br> + And what one knows, one uses never.<br> + But let us not, by such despondence, so<br> + The fortune of this hour embitter!<br> + Mark how, beneath the evening sunlight’s glow,<br> + The green-embosomed houses glitter!<br> + The glow retreats, done is the day of toil;<br> + It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring;<br> + Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil,<br> + Upon its track to follow, follow soaring!<br> + Then would I see eternal Evening gild<br> + The silent world beneath me glowing,<br> + On fire each mountain-peak, with peace each valley filled,<br> + The silver brook to golden rivers flowing.<br> + The mountain-chain, with all its gorges deep,<br> + Would then no more impede my godlike motion;<br> + And now before mine eyes expands the ocean<br> + With all its bays, in shining sleep!<br> + Yet, finally, the weary god is sinking;<br> + The new-born impulse fires my mind,—<br> + I hasten on, his beams eternal drinking,<br> + The Day before me and the Night behind,<br> + Above me heaven unfurled, the floor of waves beneath me,—<br> + A glorious dream! though now the glories fade.<br> + Alas! the wings that lift the mind no aid<br> + Of wings to lift the body can bequeath me.<br> + Yet in each soul is born the pleasure<br> + Of yearning onward, upward and away,<br> + When o’er our heads, lost in the vaulted azure,<br> + The lark sends down his flickering lay,—<br> + When over crags and piny highlands<br> + The poising eagle slowly soars,<br> + And over plains and lakes and islands<br> + The crane sails by to other shores.</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>I’ve had, myself, at times, some odd caprices,<br> + But never yet such impulse felt, as this is.<br> + One soon fatigues, on woods and fields to look,<br> + Nor would I beg the bird his wing to spare us:<br> + How otherwise the mental raptures bear us<br> + From page to page, from book to book!<br> + Then winter nights take loveliness untold,<br> + As warmer life in every limb had crowned you;<br> + And when your hands unroll some parchment rare and old,<br> + All Heaven descends, and opens bright around you!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>One impulse art thou conscious of, at best;<br> + O, never seek to know the other!<br> + Two souls, alas! reside within my breast,<br> + And each withdraws from, and repels, its brother.<br> + One with tenacious organs holds in love<br> + And clinging lust the world in its embraces;<br> + The other strongly sweeps, this dust above,<br> + Into the high ancestral spaces.<br> + If there be airy spirits near,<br> + ’Twixt Heaven and Earth on potent errands fleeing,<br> + Let them drop down the golden atmosphere,<br> + And bear me forth to new and varied being!<br> + Yea, if a magic mantle once were mine,<br> + To waft me o’er the world at pleasure,<br> + I would not for the costliest stores of treasure—<br> + Not for a monarch’s robe—the gift resign.</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>Invoke not thus the well-known throng,<br> + Which through the firmament diffused is faring,<br> + And danger thousand-fold, our race to wrong.<br> + In every quarter is preparing.<br> + Swift from the North the spirit-fangs so sharp<br> + Sweep down, and with their barbéd points assail you;<br> + Then from the East they come, to dry and warp<br> + Your lungs, till breath and being fail you:<br> + If from the Desert sendeth them the South,<br> + With fire on fire your throbbing forehead crowning,<br> + The West leads on a host, to cure the drouth<br> + Only when meadow, field, and you are drowning.<br> + They gladly hearken, prompt for injury,—<br> + Gladly obey, because they gladly cheat us;<br> + From Heaven they represent themselves to be,<br> + And lisp like angels, when with lies they meet us.<br> + But, let us go! ’Tis gray and dusky all:<br> + The air is cold, the vapors fall.<br> + At night, one learns his house to prize:—<br> + Why stand you thus, with such astonished eyes?<br> + What, in the twilight, can your mind so trouble?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Seest thou the black dog coursing there, through corn and<br> + stubble?</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>Long since: yet deemed him not important in the least.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Inspect him close: for what tak’st thou the beast?</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>Why, for a poodle who has lost his master,<br> + And scents about, his track to find.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Seest thou the spiral circles, narrowing faster,<br> + Which he, approaching, round us seems to wind?<br> + A streaming trail of fire, if I see rightly,<br> + Follows his path of mystery.</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>It may be that your eyes deceive you slightly;<br> + Naught but a plain black poodle do I see.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>It seems to me that with enchanted cunning<br> + He snares our feet, some future chain to bind.</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>I see him timidly, in doubt, around us running,<br> + Since, in his master’s stead, two strangers doth he find.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The circle narrows: he is near!</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>A dog thou seest, and not a phantom, here!<br> + Behold him stop—upon his belly crawl—His<br> + tail set wagging: canine habits, all!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Come, follow us! Come here, at least!</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>’Tis the absurdest, drollest beast.<br> + Stand still, and you will see him wait;<br> + Address him, and he gambols straight;<br> + If something’s lost, he’ll quickly bring it,—<br> + Your cane, if in the stream you fling it.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>No doubt you’re right: no trace of mind, I own,<br> + Is in the beast: I see but drill, alone.</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>The dog, when he’s well educated,<br> + Is by the wisest tolerated.<br> + Yes, he deserves your favor thoroughly,—<br> + The clever scholar of the students, he!</p> + <p>(<i>They pass in the city-gate</i>.)</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-067.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-068.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="III"></a>III</h2></div> + <p>THE STUDY</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>(<i>Entering, with the poodle</i>.)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Behind me, field and meadow + sleeping,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I leave in deep, prophetic night,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Within whose dread and holy keeping</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The better soul awakes to light.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The wild desires no longer win us,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The deeds of passion cease to chain;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The love of Man revives within us,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The love of God revives again.</span><br> + </p> + <p>Be still, thou poodle; make not such racket and riot!<br> + Why at the threshold wilt snuffing be?<br> + Behind the stove repose thee in quiet!<br> + My softest cushion I give to thee.<br> + As thou, up yonder, with running and leaping<br> + Amused us hast, on the mountain’s crest,<br> + </p> + <p>So now I take thee into my keeping,<br> + A welcome, but also a silent, guest.</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Ah, when, within our narrow chamber</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The lamp with friendly lustre glows,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Flames in the breast each faded + ember,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And in the heart, itself that knows.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Then Hope again lends sweet + assistance,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And Reason then resumes her speech:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">One yearns, the rivers of existence,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The very founts of Life, to reach.</span><br> + </p> + <p>Snarl not, poodle! To the sound that rises,<br> + The sacred tones that my soul embrace,<br> + This bestial noise is out of place.<br> + We are used to see, that Man despises<br> + What he never comprehends,<br> + And the Good and the Beautiful vilipends,<br> + Finding them often hard to measure:<br> + Will the dog, like man, snarl <i>his</i> displeasure?</p> + <p>But ah! I feel, though will thereto be stronger,<br> + Contentment flows from out my breast no longer.<br> + Why must the stream so soon run dry and fail us,<br> + And burning thirst again assail us?<br> + Therein I’ve borne so much probation!<br> + And yet, this want may be supplied us;<br> + We call the Supernatural to guide us;<br> + We pine and thirst for Revelation,<br> + Which nowhere worthier is, more nobly sent,<br> + Than here, in our New Testament.<br> + I feel impelled, its meaning to determine,—<br> + With honest purpose, once for all,<br> + The hallowed Original<br> + To change to my beloved German.<br> + </p> + <p>(<i>He opens a volume, and commences</i>.)<br> + ’Tis written: “In the Beginning was the <i>Word</i>.”<br> + Here am I balked: who, now can help afford?<br> + The <i>Word?</i>—impossible so high to rate it;<br> + And otherwise must I translate it.<br> + If by the Spirit I am truly taught.<br> + Then thus: “In the Beginning was the <i>Thought</i>”<br> + This first line let me weigh completely,<br> + Lest my impatient pen proceed too fleetly.<br> + Is it the <i>Thought</i> which works, creates, indeed?<br> + “In the Beginning was the <i>Power,”</i> I read.<br> + Yet, as I write, a warning is suggested,<br> + That I the sense may not have fairly tested.<br> + The Spirit aids me: now I see the light!<br> + “In the Beginning was the <i>Act</i>,” I write.<br> + <br> + If I must share my chamber with thee,<br> + Poodle, stop that howling, prithee!<br> + Cease to bark and bellow!<br> + Such a noisy, disturbing fellow<br> + I’ll no longer suffer near me.<br> + One of us, dost hear me!<br> + Must leave, I fear me.<br> + No longer guest-right I bestow;<br> + The door is open, art free to go.<br> + But what do I see in the creature?<br> + Is that in the course of nature?<br> + Is’t actual fact? or Fancy’s shows?<br> + How long and broad my poodle grows!<br> + He rises mightily:<br> + A canine form that cannot be!<br> + What a spectre I’ve harbored thus!<br> + He resembles a hippopotamus,<br> + With fiery eyes, teeth terrible to see:<br> + O, now am I sure of thee!<br> + For all of thy half-hellish brood<br> + The Key of Solomon is good.<br> + <br> + </p> + <p>SPIRITS (<i>in the corridor</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Some one, within, is caught!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Stay without, follow him not!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Like the fox in a snare,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Quakes the old hell-lynx there.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Take heed—look about!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Back and forth hover,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Under and over,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And he’ll work himself out.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">If your aid avail him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Let it not fail him;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">For he, without measure,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Has wrought for our pleasure.</span><br> + </p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>First, to encounter the beast,<br> + The Words of the Four be addressed:<br> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Salamander, shine glorious!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wave, Undine, as bidden!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sylph, be thou hidden!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Gnome, be laborious!</span><br> + </p> + <p>Who knows not their sense<br> + (These elements),—<br> + Their properties<br> + And power not sees,—<br> + No mastery he inherits<br> + Over the Spirits.</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Vanish in flaming ether,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Salamander!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Flow foamingly together,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Undine!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Shine in meteor-sheen,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Sylph!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bring help to hearth and shelf.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Incubus! Incubus!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Step forward, and finish thus!</span><br> + </p> + <p>Of the Four, no feature<br> + Lurks in the creature.<br> + Quiet he lies, and grins disdain:<br> + Not yet, it seems, have I given him pain.<br> + Now, to undisguise thee,<br> + Hear me exorcise thee!<br> + Art thou, my gay one,<br> + Hell’s fugitive stray-one?<br> + The sign witness now,<br> + Before which they bow,<br> + The cohorts of Hell!</p> + <p>With hair all bristling, it begins to swell.</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Base Being, hearest thou?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Knowest and fearest thou</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The One, unoriginate,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Named inexpressibly,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Through all Heaven impermeate,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Pierced irredressibly!</span><br> + </p> + <p>Behind the stove still banned,<br> + See it, an elephant, expand!<br> + It fills the space entire,<br> + Mist-like melting, ever faster.<br> + ’Tis enough: ascend no higher,—<br> + Lay thyself at the feet of the Master!<br> + Thou seest, not vain the threats I bring thee:<br> + With holy fire I’ll scorch and sting thee!<br> + Wait not to know<br> + The threefold dazzling glow!<br> + Wait not to know<br> + The strongest art within my hands!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>(<i>while the vapor is dissipating, steps forth from behind the<br> + stove, in the costume of a Travelling Scholar</i>.)<br> + Why such a noise? What are my lord’s commands?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>This was the poodle’s real core,<br> + A travelling scholar, then? The <i>casus</i> is diverting.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The learned gentleman I bow before:<br> + You’ve made me roundly sweat, that’s certain!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What is thy name?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>A question small, it seems,<br> + For one whose mind the Word so much despises;<br> + Who, scorning all external gleams,<br> + The depths of being only prizes.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>With all you gentlemen, the name’s a test,<br> + Whereby the nature usually is expressed.<br> + Clearly the latter it implies<br> + In names like Beelzebub, Destroyer, Father of Lies.<br> + Who art thou, then?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Part of that Power, not understood,<br> + Which always wills the Bad, and always works the Good.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What hidden sense in this enigma lies?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I am the Spirit that Denies!<br> + And justly so: for all things, from the Void<br> + Called forth, deserve to be destroyed:<br> + ’Twere better, then, were naught created.<br> + Thus, all which you as Sin have rated,—<br> + Destruction,—aught with Evil blent,—<br> + That is my proper element.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou nam’st thyself a part, yet show’st complete to me?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The modest truth I speak to thee.<br> + If Man, that microcosmic fool, can see<br> + Himself a whole so frequently,<br> + Part of the Part am I, once All, in primal Night,—<br> + Part of the Darkness which brought forth the Light,<br> + The haughty Light, which now disputes the space,<br> + And claims of Mother Night her ancient place.<br> + And yet, the struggle fails; since Light, howe’er it weaves,<br> + Still, fettered, unto bodies cleaves:<br> + It flows from bodies, bodies beautifies;<br> + By bodies is its course impeded;<br> + And so, but little time is needed,<br> + I hope, ere, as the bodies die, it dies!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I see the plan thou art pursuing:<br> + Thou canst not compass general ruin,<br> + And hast on smaller scale begun.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And truly ’tis not much, when all is done.<br> + That which to Naught is in resistance set,—<br> + The Something of this clumsy world,—has yet,<br> + With all that I have undertaken,<br> + Not been by me disturbed or shaken:<br> + From earthquake, tempest, wave, volcano’s brand,<br> + Back into quiet settle sea and land!<br> + And that damned stuff, the bestial, human brood,—<br> + What use, in having that to play with?<br> + How many have I made away with!<br> + And ever circulates a newer, fresher blood.<br> + It makes me furious, such things beholding:<br> + From Water, Earth, and Air unfolding,<br> + A thousand germs break forth and grow,<br> + In dry, and wet, and warm, and chilly;<br> + And had I not the Flame reserved, why, really,<br> + There’s nothing special of my own to show!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>So, to the actively eternal<br> + Creative force, in cold disdain<br> + You now oppose the fist infernal,<br> + Whose wicked clench is all in vain!<br> + Some other labor seek thou rather,<br> + Queer Son of Chaos, to begin!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Well, we’ll consider: thou canst gather<br> + My views, when next I venture in.<br> + Might I, perhaps, depart at present?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Why thou shouldst ask, I don’t perceive.<br> + Though our acquaintance is so recent,<br> + For further visits thou hast leave.<br> + The window’s here, the door is yonder;<br> + A chimney, also, you behold.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I must confess that forth I may not wander,<br> + My steps by one slight obstacle controlled,—<br> + The wizard’s-foot, that on your threshold made is.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The pentagram prohibits thee?<br> + Why, tell me now, thou Son of Hades,<br> + If that prevents, how cam’st thou in to me?<br> + Could such a spirit be so cheated?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Inspect the thing: the drawing’s not completed.<br> + The outer angle, you may see,<br> + Is open left—the lines don’t fit it.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Well,—Chance, this time, has fairly hit it!<br> + And thus, thou’rt prisoner to me?<br> + It seems the business has succeeded.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The poodle naught remarked, as after thee he speeded;<br> + But other aspects now obtain:<br> + The Devil can’t get out again.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Try, then, the open window-pane!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>For Devils and for spectres this is law:<br> + Where they have entered in, there also they withdraw.<br> + The first is free to us; we’re governed by the second.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>In Hell itself, then, laws are reckoned?<br> + That’s well! So might a compact be<br> + Made with you gentlemen—and binding,—surely?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>All that is promised shall delight thee purely;<br> + No skinflint bargain shalt thou see.<br> + But this is not of swift conclusion;<br> + We’ll talk about the matter soon.<br> + And now, I do entreat this boon—<br> + Leave to withdraw from my intrusion.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>One moment more I ask thee to remain,<br> + Some pleasant news, at least, to tell me.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Release me, now! I soon shall come again;<br> + Then thou, at will, mayst question and compel me.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I have not snares around thee cast;<br> + Thyself hast led thyself into the meshes.<br> + Who traps the Devil, hold him fast!<br> + Not soon a second time he’ll catch a prey so precious.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>An’t please thee, also I’m content to stay,<br> + And serve thee in a social station;<br> + But stipulating, that I may<br> + With arts of mine afford thee recreation.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thereto I willingly agree,<br> + If the diversion pleasant be.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>My friend, thou’lt win, past all pretences,<br> + More in this hour to soothe thy senses,<br> + Than in the year’s monotony.<br> + That which the dainty spirits sing thee,<br> + The lovely pictures they shall bring thee,<br> + Are more than magic’s empty show.<br> + Thy scent will be to bliss invited;<br> + Thy palate then with taste delighted,<br> + Thy nerves of touch ecstatic glow!<br> + All unprepared, the charm I spin:<br> + We’re here together, so begin!</p> + <p>SPIRITS</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Vanish, ye darking</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Arches above him!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Loveliest weather,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Born of blue ether,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Break from the sky!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">O that the darkling</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Clouds had departed!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Starlight is sparkling,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Tranquiller-hearted</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Suns are on high.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Heaven’s own children</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In beauty bewildering,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Waveringly bending,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Pass as they hover;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Longing unending</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Follows them over.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">They, with their glowing</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Garments, out-flowing,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Cover, in going,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Landscape and bower,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Where, in seclusion,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Lovers are plighted,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Lost in illusion.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bower on bower!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Tendrils unblighted!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Lo! in a shower</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Grapes that o’ercluster</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Gush into must, or</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Flow into rivers</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Of foaming and flashing</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Wine, that is dashing</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Gems, as it boundeth</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Down the high places,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And spreading, surroundeth</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">With crystalline spaces,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In happy embraces,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Blossoming forelands,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Emerald shore-lands!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the winged races</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Drink, and fly onward—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Fly ever sunward</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To the enticing</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Islands, that flatter,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Dipping and rising</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Light on the water!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Hark, the inspiring</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Sound of their quiring!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">See, the entrancing</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Whirl of their dancing!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">All in the air are</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Freer and fairer.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Some of them scaling</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Boldly the highlands,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Others are sailing,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Circling the islands;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Others are flying;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Life-ward all hieing,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">All for the distant</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Star of existent</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Rapture and Love!</span><br> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>He sleeps! Enough, ye fays! your airy number<br> + Have sung him truly into slumber:<br> + For this performance I your debtor prove.—<br> + Not yet art thou the man, to catch the Fiend and hold him!—<br> + With fairest images of dreams infold him,<br> + Plunge him in seas of sweet untruth!<br> + Yet, for the threshold’s magic which controlled him,<br> + The Devil needs a rat’s quick tooth.<br> + I use no lengthened invocation:<br> + Here rustles one that soon will work my liberation.</p> + <p>The lord of rats and eke of mice,<br> + Of flies and bed-bugs, frogs and lice,<br> + Summons thee hither to the door-sill,<br> + To gnaw it where, with just a morsel<br> + Of oil, he paints the spot for thee:—<br> + There com’st thou, hopping on to me!<br> + To work, at once! The point which made me craven<br> + Is forward, on the ledge, engraven.<br> + Another bite makes free the door:<br> + So, dream thy dreams, O Faust, until we meet once more!</p> + <p>FAUST <i>(awaking)</i></p> + <p>Am I again so foully cheated?<br> + Remains there naught of lofty spirit-sway,<br> + But that a dream the Devil counterfeited,<br> + And that a poodle ran away?</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-081.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="IV"></a>IV</h2></div> + <p>THE STUDY</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>A knock? Come in! Again my quiet broken?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>’Tis I!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Come in!</span><br></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 9em;">Thrice must the words be spoken.</span><br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Come in, then!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Thus thou pleasest me.</span><br> + I hope we’ll suit each other well;<br> + For now, thy vapors to dispel,<br> + I come, a squire of high degree,<br> + In scarlet coat, with golden trimming,<br> + A cloak in silken lustre swimming,<br> + A tall cock’s-feather in my hat,<br> + A long, sharp sword for show or quarrel,—<br> + And I advise thee, brief and flat,<br> + To don the self-same gay apparel,<br> + That, from this den released, and free,<br> + Life be at last revealed to thee!<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>This life of earth, whatever my attire,<br> + Would pain me in its wonted fashion.<br> + Too old am I to play with passion;<br> + Too young, to be without desire.<br> + What from the world have I to gain?<br> + Thou shalt abstain—renounce—refrain!<br> + Such is the everlasting song<br> + That in the ears of all men rings,—<br> + That unrelieved, our whole life long,<br> + Each hour, in passing, hoarsely sings.<br> + In very terror I at morn awake,<br> + Upon the verge of bitter weeping,<br> + To see the day of disappointment break,<br> + To no one hope of mine—not one—its promise keeping:—<br> + That even each joy’s presentiment<br> + With wilful cavil would diminish,<br> + With grinning masks of life prevent<br> + My mind its fairest work to finish!<br> + Then, too, when night descends, how anxiously<br> + Upon my couch of sleep I lay me:<br> + There, also, comes no rest to me,<br> + But some wild dream is sent to fray me.<br> + The God that in my breast is owned<br> + Can deeply stir the inner sources;<br> + The God, above my powers enthroned,<br> + He cannot change external forces.<br> + So, by the burden of my days oppressed,<br> + Death is desired, and Life a thing unblest!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And yet is never Death a wholly welcome guest.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>O fortunate, for whom, when victory glances,<br> + The bloody laurels on the brow he bindeth!<br> + Whom, after rapid, maddening dances,<br> + In clasping maiden-arms he findeth!<br> + O would that I, before that spirit-power,<br> + Ravished and rapt from life, had sunken!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And yet, by some one, in that nightly hour,<br> + A certain liquid was not drunken.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Eavesdropping, ha! thy pleasure seems to be.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Omniscient am I not; yet much is known to me.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Though some familiar tone, retrieving<br> + My thoughts from torment, led me on,<br> + And sweet, clear echoes came, deceiving<br> + A faith bequeathed from Childhood’s dawn,<br> + Yet now I curse whate’er entices<br> + And snares the soul with visions vain;<br> + With dazzling cheats and dear devices<br> + Confines it in this cave of pain!<br> + Cursed be, at once, the high ambition<br> + Wherewith the mind itself deludes!<br> + Cursed be the glare of apparition<br> + That on the finer sense intrudes!<br> + Cursed be the lying dream’s impression<br> + Of name, and fame, and laurelled brow!<br> + Cursed, all that flatters as possession,<br> + As wife and child, as knave and plow!<br> + Cursed Mammon be, when he with treasures<br> + To restless action spurs our fate!<br> + Cursed when, for soft, indulgent leisures,<br> + He lays for us the pillows straight!<br> + Cursed be the vine’s transcendent nectar,—<br> + The highest favor Love lets fall!<br> + Cursed, also, Hope!—cursed Faith, the spectre!<br> + And cursed be Patience most of all!</p> + <p>CHORUS OF SPIRITS (<i>invisible</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Woe! woe!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Thou hast it destroyed,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The beautiful world,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">With powerful fist:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In ruin ’tis hurled,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">By the blow of a demigod shattered!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The scattered</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Fragments into the Void we carry,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Deploring</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The beauty perished beyond restoring.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Mightier</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">For the children of men,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Brightlier</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Build it again,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In thine own bosom build it anew!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bid the new career</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Commence,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">With clearer sense,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the new songs of cheer</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Be sung thereto!</span><br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + These are the small dependants<br> + Who give me attendance.<br> + Hear them, to deeds and passion<br> + Counsel in shrewd old-fashion!<br> + Into the world of strife,<br> + Out of this lonely life<br> + That of senses and sap has betrayed thee,<br> + They would persuade thee.<br> + This nursing of the pain forego thee,<br> + That, like a vulture, feeds upon thy breast!<br> + The worst society thou find’st will show thee<br> + Thou art a man among the rest.<br> + But ’tis not meant to thrust<br> + Thee into the mob thou hatest!<br> + I am not one of the greatest,<br> + Yet, wilt thou to me entrust<br> + Thy steps through life, I’ll guide thee,—<br> + Will willingly walk beside thee,—<br> + Will serve thee at once and forever<br> + With best endeavor,<br> + And, if thou art satisfied,<br> + Will as servant, slave, with thee abide.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + And what shall be my counter-service therefor?<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + The time is long: thou need’st not now insist.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + No—no! The Devil is an egotist,<br> + And is not apt, without a why or wherefore,<br> + “For God’s sake,” others to assist.<br> + Speak thy conditions plain and clear!<br> + With such a servant danger comes, I fear.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + <i>Here</i>, an unwearied slave, I’ll wear thy tether,<br> + And to thine every nod obedient be:<br> + When <i>There</i> again we come together,<br> + Then shalt thou do the same for me.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + The <i>There</i> my scruples naught increases.<br> + When thou hast dashed this world to pieces,<br> + The other, then, its place may fill.<br> + Here, on this earth, my pleasures have their sources;<br> + Yon sun beholds my sorrows in his courses;<br> + And when from these my life itself divorces,<br> + Let happen all that can or will!<br> + I’ll hear no more: ’tis vain to ponder<br> + If there we cherish love or hate,<br> + Or, in the spheres we dream of yonder,<br> + A High and Low our souls await.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + In this sense, even, canst thou venture.<br> + Come, bind thyself by prompt indenture,<br> + And thou mine arts with joy shalt see:<br> + What no man ever saw, I’ll give to thee.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Canst thou, poor Devil, give me whatsoever?<br> + When was a human soul, in its supreme endeavor,<br> + E’er understood by such as thou?<br> + Yet, hast thou food which never satiates, now,—<br> + The restless, ruddy gold hast thou,<br> + That runs, quicksilver-like, one’s fingers through,—<br> + A game whose winnings no man ever knew,—<br> + A maid that, even from my breast,<br> + Beckons my neighbor with her wanton glances,<br> + And Honor’s godlike zest,<br> + The meteor that a moment dances,—<br> + Show me the fruits that, ere they’re gathered, rot,<br> + And trees that daily with new leafage clothe them!<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Such a demand alarms me not:<br> + Such treasures have I, and can show them.<br> + But still the time may reach us, good my friend.<br> + When peace we crave and more luxurious diet.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + When on an idler’s bed I stretch myself in quiet.<br> + There let, at once, my record end!<br> + Canst thou with lying flattery rule me,<br> + Until, self-pleased, myself I see,—<br> + Canst thou with rich enjoyment fool me,<br> + Let that day be the last for me!<br> + The bet I offer.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Done!</span><br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <span style="margin-left: 12.5em;">And heartily!</span><br> + When thus I hail the Moment flying:<br> + “Ah, still delay—thou art so fair!”<br> + Then bind me in thy bonds undying,<br> + My final ruin then declare!<br> + Then let the death-bell chime the token.<br> + Then art thou from thy service free!<br> + The clock may stop, the hand be broken,<br> + Then Time be finished unto me!<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Consider well: my memory good is rated.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Thou hast a perfect right thereto.<br> + My powers I have not rashly estimated:<br> + A slave am I, whate’er I do—<br> + If thine, or whose? ’tis needless to debate it.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Then at the Doctors’-banquet I, to-day,<br> + Will as a servant wait behind thee.<br> + But one thing more! Beyond all risk to bind thee,<br> + Give me a line or two, I pray.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Demand’st thou, Pedant, too, a document?<br> + Hast never known a man, nor proved his word’s intent?<br> + Is’t not enough, that what I speak to-day<br> + Shall stand, with all my future days agreeing?<br> + In all its tides sweeps not the world away,<br> + And shall a promise bind my being?<br> + Yet this delusion in our hearts we bear:<br> + Who would himself therefrom deliver?<br> + Blest he, whose bosom Truth makes pure and fair!<br> + No sacrifice shall he repent of ever.<br> + Nathless a parchment, writ and stamped with care,<br> + A spectre is, which all to shun endeavor.<br> + The word, alas! dies even in the pen,<br> + And wax and leather keep the lordship then.<br> + What wilt from me, Base Spirit, say?—<br> + Brass, marble, parchment, paper, clay?<br> + The terms with graver, quill, or chisel, stated?<br> + I freely leave the choice to thee.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Why heat thyself, thus instantly,<br> + With eloquence exaggerated?<br> + Each leaf for such a pact is good;<br> + And to subscribe thy name thou’lt take a drop of blood.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + If thou therewith art fully satisfied,<br> + So let us by the farce abide.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Blood is a juice of rarest quality.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Fear not that I this pact shall seek to sever?<br> + The promise that I make to thee<br> + Is just the sum of my endeavor.<br> + I have myself inflated all too high;<br> + My proper place is thy estate:<br> + The Mighty Spirit deigns me no reply,<br> + And Nature shuts on me her gate.<br> + The thread of Thought at last is broken,<br> + And knowledge brings disgust unspoken.<br> + Let us the sensual deeps explore,<br> + To quench the fervors of glowing passion!<br> + Let every marvel take form and fashion<br> + Through the impervious veil it wore!<br> + Plunge we in Time’s tumultuous dance,<br> + In the rush and roll of Circumstance!<br> + Then may delight and distress,<br> + And worry and success,<br> + Alternately follow, as best they can:<br> + Restless activity proves the man!<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + For you no bound, no term is set.<br> + Whether you everywhere be trying,<br> + Or snatch a rapid bliss in flying,<br> + May it agree with you, what you get!<br> + Only fall to, and show no timid balking.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + But thou hast heard, ’tis not of joy we’re talking.<br> + I take the wildering whirl, enjoyment’s keenest pain,<br> + Enamored hate, exhilarant disdain.<br> + My bosom, of its thirst for knowledge sated,<br> + Shall not, henceforth, from any pang be wrested,<br> + And all of life for all mankind created<br> + Shall be within mine inmost being tested:<br> + The highest, lowest forms my soul shall borrow,<br> + Shall heap upon itself their bliss and sorrow,<br> + And thus, my own sole self to all their selves expanded,<br> + I too, at last, shall with them all be stranded!<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Believe me, who for many a thousand year<br> + The same tough meat have chewed and tested,<br> + That from the cradle to the bier<br> + No man the ancient leaven has digested!<br> + Trust one of us, this Whole supernal<br> + Is made but for a God’s delight!<br> + <i>He</i> dwells in splendor single and eternal,<br> + But <i>us</i> he thrusts in darkness, out of sight,<br> + And <i>you</i> he dowers with Day and Night.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Nay, but I will!<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + A good reply!<br> + One only fear still needs repeating:<br> + The art is long, the time is fleeting.<br> + Then let thyself be taught, say I!<br> + Go, league thyself with a poet,<br> + Give the rein to his imagination,<br> + Then wear the crown, and show it,<br> + Of the qualities of his creation,—<br> + The courage of the lion’s breed,<br> + The wild stag’s speed,<br> + The Italian’s fiery blood,<br> + The North’s firm fortitude!<br> + Let him find for thee the secret tether<br> + That binds the Noble and Mean together.<br> + And teach thy pulses of youth and pleasure<br> + To love by rule, and hate by measure!<br> + I’d like, myself, such a one to see:<br> + Sir Microcosm his name should be.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + What am I, then, if ’tis denied my part<br> + The crown of all humanity to win me,<br> + Whereto yearns every sense within me?<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Why, on the whole, thou’rt—what thou art.<br> + Set wigs of million curls upon thy head, to raise thee,<br> + Wear shoes an ell in height,—the truth betrays thee,<br> + And thou remainest—what thou art.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + I feel, indeed, that I have made the treasure<br> + Of human thought and knowledge mine, in vain;<br> + And if I now sit down in restful leisure,<br> + No fount of newer strength is in my brain:<br> + I am no hair’s-breadth more in height,<br> + Nor nearer, to the Infinite,<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Good Sir, you see the facts precisely<br> + As they are seen by each and all.<br> + We must arrange them now, more wisely,<br> + Before the joys of life shall pall.<br> + Why, Zounds! Both hands and feet are, truly—<br> + And head and virile forces—thine:<br> + Yet all that I indulge in newly,<br> + Is’t thence less wholly mine?<br> + If I’ve six stallions in my stall,<br> + Are not their forces also lent me?<br> + I speed along, completest man of all,<br> + As though my legs were four-and-twenty.<br> + Take hold, then! let reflection rest,<br> + And plunge into the world with zest!<br> + I say to thee, a speculative wight<br> + Is like a beast on moorlands lean,<br> + That round and round some fiend misleads to evil plight,<br> + While all about lie pastures fresh and green.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Then how shall we begin?<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + We’ll try a wider sphere.<br> + What place of martyrdom is here!<br> + Is’t life, I ask, is’t even prudence,<br> + To bore thyself and bore the students?<br> + Let Neighbor Paunch to that attend!<br> + Why plague thyself with threshing straw forever?<br> + The best thou learnest, in the end<br> + Thou dar’st not tell the youngsters—never!<br> + I hear one’s footsteps, hither steering.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + To see him now I have no heart.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + So long the poor boy waits a hearing,<br> + He must not unconsoled depart.<br> + Thy cap and mantle straightway lend me!<br> + I’ll play the comedy with art.<br> + <br> + (<i>He disguises himself</i>.)<br> + <br> + My wits, be certain, will befriend me.<br> + But fifteen minutes’ time is all I need;<br> + For our fine trip, meanwhile, prepare thyself with speed!<br> + <br> +</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + [<i>Exit</i> FAUST.<br> + <br> + </div> + <p> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + (<i>In</i> FAUST’S <i>long mantle</i>.)<br> + <br> + Reason and Knowledge only thou despise,<br> + The highest strength in man that lies!<br> + Let but the Lying Spirit bind thee<br> + With magic works and shows that blind thee,<br> + And I shall have thee fast and sure!—<br> + Fate such a bold, untrammelled spirit gave him,<br> + As forwards, onwards, ever must endure;<br> + Whose over-hasty impulse drave him<br> + Past earthly joys he might secure.<br> + Dragged through the wildest life, will I enslave him,<br> + Through flat and stale indifference;<br> + With struggling, chilling, checking, so deprave him<br> + That, to his hot, insatiate sense,<br> + The dream of drink shall mock, but never lave him:<br> + Refreshment shall his lips in vain implore—<br> + Had he not made himself the Devil’s, naught could save him,<br> + Still were he lost forevermore!<br> + <br> + (<i>A</i> STUDENT <i>enters</i>.)<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + A short time, only, am I here,<br> + And come, devoted and sincere,<br> + To greet and know the man of fame,<br> + Whom men to me with reverence name.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Your courtesy doth flatter me:<br> + You see a man, as others be.<br> + Have you, perchance, elsewhere begun?<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + Receive me now, I pray, as one<br> + Who comes to you with courage good,<br> + Somewhat of cash, and healthy blood:<br> + My mother was hardly willing to let me;<br> + But knowledge worth having I fain would get me.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Then you have reached the right place now.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + I’d like to leave it, I must avow;<br> + I find these walls, these vaulted spaces<br> + Are anything but pleasant places.<br> + Tis all so cramped and close and mean;<br> + One sees no tree, no glimpse of green,<br> + And when the lecture-halls receive me,<br> + Seeing, hearing, and thinking leave me.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + All that depends on habitude.<br> + So from its mother’s breasts a child<br> + At first, reluctant, takes its food,<br> + But soon to seek them is beguiled.<br> + Thus, at the breasts of Wisdom clinging,<br> + Thou’lt find each day a greater rapture bringing.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + I’ll hang thereon with joy, and freely drain them;<br> + But tell me, pray, the proper means to gain them.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Explain, before you further speak,<br> + The special faculty you seek.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + I crave the highest erudition;<br> + And fain would make my acquisition<br> + All that there is in Earth and Heaven,<br> + In Nature and in Science too.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Here is the genuine path for you;<br> + Yet strict attention must be given.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + Body and soul thereon I’ll wreak;<br> + Yet, truly, I’ve some inclination<br> + On summer holidays to seek<br> + A little freedom and recreation.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Use well your time! It flies so swiftly from us;<br> + But time through order may be won, I promise.<br> + So, Friend (my views to briefly sum),<br> + First, the <i>collegium logicum</i>.<br> + There will your mind be drilled and braced,<br> + As if in Spanish boots ’twere laced,<br> + And thus, to graver paces brought,<br> + ’Twill plod along the path of thought,<br> + Instead of shooting here and there,<br> + A will-o’-the-wisp in murky air.<br> + Days will be spent to bid you know,<br> + What once you did at a single blow,<br> + Like eating and drinking, free and strong,—<br> + That one, two, three! thereto belong.<br> + Truly the fabric of mental fleece<br> + Resembles a weaver’s masterpiece,<br> + Where a thousand threads one treadle throws,<br> + Where fly the shuttles hither and thither.<br> + Unseen the threads are knit together.<br> + And an infinite combination grows.<br> + Then, the philosopher steps in<br> + And shows, no otherwise it could have been:<br> + The first was so, the second so,<br> + Therefore the third and fourth are so;<br> + Were not the first and second, then<br> + The third and fourth had never been.<br> + The scholars are everywhere believers,<br> + But never succeed in being weavers.<br> + He who would study organic existence,<br> + First drives out the soul with rigid persistence;<br> + Then the parts in his hand he may hold and class,<br> + But the spiritual link is lost, alas!<br> + <i>Encheiresin natures</i>, this Chemistry names,<br> + Nor knows how herself she banters and blames!<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + I cannot understand you quite.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Your mind will shortly be set aright,<br> + When you have learned, all things reducing,<br> + To classify them for your using.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + I feel as stupid, from all you’ve said,<br> + As if a mill-wheel whirled in my head!<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + And after—first and foremost duty—Of<br> + Metaphysics learn the use and beauty!<br> + See that you most profoundly gain<br> + What does not suit the human brain!<br> + A splendid word to serve, you’ll find<br> + For what goes in—or won’t go in—your mind.<br> + But first, at least this half a year,<br> + To order rigidly adhere;<br> + Five hours a day, you understand,<br> + And when the clock strikes, be on hand!<br> + Prepare beforehand for your part<br> + With paragraphs all got by heart,<br> + So you can better watch, and look<br> + That naught is said but what is in the book:<br> + Yet in thy writing as unwearied be,<br> + As did the Holy Ghost dictate to thee!<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + No need to tell me twice to do it!<br> + I think, how useful ’tis to write;<br> + For what one has, in black and white,<br> + One carries home and then goes through it.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Yet choose thyself a faculty!<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + I cannot reconcile myself to Jurisprudence.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Nor can I therefore greatly blame you students:<br> + I know what science this has come to be.<br> + All rights and laws are still transmitted<br> + Like an eternal sickness of the race,—<br> + From generation unto generation fitted,<br> + And shifted round from place to place.<br> + Reason becomes a sham, Beneficence a worry:<br> + Thou art a grandchild, therefore woe to thee!<br> + The right born with us, ours in verity,<br> + This to consider, there’s, alas! no hurry.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + My own disgust is strengthened by your speech:<br> + O lucky he, whom you shall teach!<br> + I’ve almost for Theology decided.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + I should not wish to see you here misguided:<br> + For, as regards this science, let me hint<br> + ’Tis very hard to shun the false direction;<br> + There’s so much secret poison lurking in ’t,<br> + So like the medicine, it baffles your detection.<br> + Hear, therefore, one alone, for that is best, in sooth,<br> + And simply take your master’s words for truth.<br> + On <i>words</i> let your attention centre!<br> + Then through the safest gate you’ll enter<br> + The temple-halls of Certainty.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + Yet in the word must some idea be.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Of course! But only shun too over-sharp a tension,<br> + For just where fails the comprehension,<br> + A word steps promptly in as deputy.<br> + With words ’tis excellent disputing;<br> + Systems to words ’tis easy suiting;<br> + On words ’tis excellent believing;<br> + No word can ever lose a jot from thieving.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + Pardon! With many questions I detain you.<br> + Yet must I trouble you again.<br> + Of Medicine I still would fain<br> + Hear one strong word that might explain you.<br> + Three years is but a little space.<br> + And, God! who can the field embrace?<br> + If one some index could be shown,<br> + ’Twere easier groping forward, truly.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>aside</i>)<br> + <br> + I’m tired enough of this dry tone,—<br> + Must play the Devil again, and fully.<br> + <br> +</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + (<i>Aloud</i>)<br> + </div> + <p> + <br> + To grasp the spirit of Medicine is easy:<br> + Learn of the great and little world your fill,<br> + To let it go at last, so please ye,<br> + Just as God will!<br> + In vain that through the realms of science you may drift;<br> + Each one learns only—just what learn he can:<br> + Yet he who grasps the Moment’s gift,<br> + He is the proper man.<br> + Well-made you are, ’tis not to be denied,<br> + The rest a bold address will win you;<br> + If you but in yourself confide,<br> + At once confide all others in you.<br> + To lead the women, learn the special feeling!<br> + Their everlasting aches and groans,<br> + In thousand tones,<br> + Have all one source, one mode of healing;<br> + And if your acts are half discreet,<br> + You’ll always have them at your feet.<br> + A title first must draw and interest them,<br> + And show that yours all other arts exceeds;<br> + Then, as a greeting, you are free to touch and test them,<br> + While, thus to do, for years another pleads.<br> + You press and count the pulse’s dances,<br> + And then, with burning sidelong glances,<br> + You clasp the swelling hips, to see<br> + If tightly laced her corsets be.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + That’s better, now! The How and Where, one sees.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + My worthy friend, gray are all theories,<br> + And green alone Life’s golden tree.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + I swear to you, ’tis like a dream to me.<br> + Might I again presume, with trust unbounded,<br> + To hear your wisdom thoroughly expounded?<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Most willingly, to what extent I may.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + I cannot really go away:<br> + Allow me that my album first I reach you,—<br> + Grant me this favor, I beseech you!<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Assuredly.<br> + <br> + (<i>He writes, and returns the book</i>.)<br> + <br> + STUDENT (<i>reads</i>)<br> + <br> +</p> + <div class="indented"> + <i>Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum</i>.<br> + </div> + <p> + (<i>Closes the book with reverence, and withdraws</i>)<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Follow the ancient text, and the snake thou wast ordered to trample!<br> + With all thy likeness to God, thou’lt yet be a sorry example!<br> + <br> + (FAUST <i>enters</i>.)<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Now, whither shall we go?<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + As best it pleases thee.<br> + The little world, and then the great, we’ll see.<br> + With what delight, what profit winning,<br> + Shalt thou sponge through the term beginning!<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Yet with the flowing beard I wear,<br> + Both ease and grace will fail me there.<br> + The attempt, indeed, were a futile strife;<br> + I never could learn the ways of life.<br> + I feel so small before others, and thence<br> + Should always find embarrassments.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + My friend, thou soon shalt lose all such misgiving:<br> + Be thou but self-possessed, thou hast the art of living!<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + How shall we leave the house, and start?<br> + Where hast thou servant, coach and horses?<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + We’ll spread this cloak with proper art,<br> + Then through the air direct our courses.<br> + But only, on so bold a flight,<br> + Be sure to have thy luggage light.<br> + A little burning air, which I shall soon prepare us,<br> + Above the earth will nimbly bear us,<br> + And, if we’re light, we’ll travel swift and clear:<br> + I gratulate thee on thy new career!<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-102.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="V"></a>V</h2></div> + <p> + <br> + <br> + AUERBACH’S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG<br> + <br> + <br> + CAROUSAL OF JOLLY COMPANIONS<br> + <br> + FROSCH<br> + <br> + Is no one laughing? no one drinking?<br> + I’ll teach you how to grin, I’m thinking.<br> + To-day you’re like wet straw, so tame;<br> + And usually you’re all aflame.<br> + <br> + BRANDER<br> + <br> + Now that’s your fault; from you we nothing see,<br> + No beastliness and no stupidity.<br> + <br> + FROSCH<br> + <br> + (<i>Pours a glass of wine over</i> BRANDER’S <i>head</i>.)<br> + There’s both together!<br> + <br> + BRANDER<br> + <br> + </p> + <div class="indenteds"> + Twice a swine!<br> + </div> + <p> + <br> + FROSCH<br> + <br> + You wanted them: I’ve given you mine.<br> + <br> + SIEBEL<br> + <br> + Turn out who quarrels—out the door!<br> + With open throat sing chorus, drink and roar!<br> + Up! holla! ho!<br> + <br> + ALTMAYER<br> + <br> + Woe’s me, the fearful bellow!<br> + Bring cotton, quick! He’s split my ears, that fellow.<br> + <br> + SIEBEL<br> + <br> + When the vault echoes to the song,<br> + One first perceives the bass is deep and strong.<br> + <br> + FROSCH<br> + <br> + Well said! and out with him that takes the least offence!<br> + </p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <i>Ah, tara, lara da</i>!<br> + </div> + <p> + <br> + ALTMAYER<br> + <br> + </p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <i>Ah, tara, lara, da</i>!<br> + </div> + <p> + <br> + FROSCH<br> + <br> + The throats are tuned, commence!<br> + <br> +</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + (<i>Sings</i>.)<br> + </div> + + <div class="indented"> + <i>The dear old holy Roman realm,<br> + How does it hold together</i>?<br> + </div> + <p> + <br> + BRANDER<br> + <br> + A nasty song! Fie! a political song—<br> + A most offensive song! Thank God, each morning, therefore,<br> + That you have not the Roman realm to care for!<br> + At least, I hold it so much gain for me,<br> + That I nor Chancellor nor Kaiser be.<br> + Yet also we must have a ruling head, I hope,<br> + And so we’ll choose ourselves a Pope.<br> + You know the quality that can<br> + Decide the choice, and elevate the man.<br> + <br> + FROSCH<br> + </p> + <div class="indentedss"> + (<i>sings</i>)<br> + <br> + </div> + <div class="indented"> + <i>Soar up, soar up, Dame Nightingale!</i><br> + Ten thousand times my sweetheart hail! + </div> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>No, greet my sweetheart not! I tell you, I’ll resent it.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>My sweetheart greet and kiss! I dare you to prevent it!</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>(<i>Sings</i>.)<br> + </p> + </div> + + <div class="indented"> + <p><i>Draw the latch! the darkness makes:</i><br> + Draw the latch! the lover wakes.<br> + Shut the latch! the morning breaks</p> + </div> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Yes, sing away, sing on, and praise, and brag of her!<br> + I’ll wait my proper time for laughter:<br> + Me by the nose she led, and now she’ll lead you after.<br> + Her paramour should be an ugly gnome,<br> + Where four roads cross, in wanton play to meet her:<br> + An old he-goat, from Blocksberg coming home,<br> + Should his good-night in lustful gallop bleat her!<br> + A fellow made of genuine flesh and blood<br> + Is for the wench a deal too good.<br> + Greet her? Not I: unless, when meeting,<br> + To smash her windows be a greeting!</p> + <p>BRANDER (<i>pounding on the table</i>)</p> + <p>Attention! Hearken now to me!<br> + Confess, Sirs, I know how to live.<br> + Enamored persons here have we,<br> + And I, as suits their quality,<br> + Must something fresh for their advantage give.<br> + Take heed! ’Tis of the latest cut, my strain,<br> + And all strike in at each refrain!</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">(<i>He sings</i>.)</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">There was a rat in the cellar-nest,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Whom fat and butter made smoother:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He had a paunch beneath his vest</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Like that of Doctor Luther.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The cook laid poison cunningly,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And then as sore oppressed was he</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As if he had love in his bosom.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">CHORUS (<i>shouting</i>)</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As if he had love in his bosom!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">BRANDER</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He ran around, he ran about,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">His thirst in puddles laving;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He gnawed and scratched the house + throughout.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">But nothing cured his raving.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He whirled and jumped, with torment + mad,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And soon enough the poor beast had,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As if he had love in his bosom.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">CHORUS</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As if he had love in his bosom!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">BRANDER</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And driven at last, in open day,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He ran into the kitchen,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Fell on the hearth, and squirming + lay,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In the last convulsion twitching.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Then laughed the murderess in her + glee:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">“Ha! ha! he’s at his last gasp,” said + she,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">“As if he had love in his bosom!”</span><br> + </p> + <p>CHORUS</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As if he had love in his bosom!</span><br> + </p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>How the dull fools enjoy the matter!<br> + To me it is a proper art<br> + Poison for such poor rats to scatter.</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>Perhaps you’ll warmly take their part?</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>The bald-pate pot-belly I have noted:<br> + Misfortune tames him by degrees;<br> + For in the rat by poison bloated<br> + His own most natural form he sees.</p> + <p>FAUST AND MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Before all else, I bring thee hither<br> + Where boon companions meet together,<br> + To let thee see how smooth life runs away.<br> + Here, for the folk, each day’s a holiday:<br> + With little wit, and ease to suit them,<br> + They whirl in narrow, circling trails,<br> + Like kittens playing with their tails?<br> + And if no headache persecute them,<br> + So long the host may credit give,<br> + They merrily and careless live.</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>The fact is easy to unravel,<br> + Their air’s so odd, they’ve just returned from travel:<br> + A single hour they’ve not been here.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>You’ve verily hit the truth! Leipzig to me is dear:<br> + Paris in miniature, how it refines its people!</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Who are the strangers, should you guess?</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Let me alone! I’ll set them first to drinking,<br> + And then, as one a child’s tooth draws, with cleverness,<br> + I’ll worm their secret out, I’m thinking.<br> + They’re of a noble house, that’s very clear:<br> + Haughty and discontented they appear.</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>They’re mountebanks, upon a revel.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Perhaps.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>Look out, I’ll smoke them now!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>Not if he had them by the neck, I vow,<br> + Would e’er these people scent the Devil!</p> + <p>FAUST Fair greeting, gentlemen!</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Our thanks: we give the same.<br> + </p> + </div> + <div class="indented"> + (<i>Murmurs, inspecting</i> MEPHISTOPHELES <i>from the side</i>.)<br> + </div> + <p> + In one foot is the fellow lame?<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Is it permitted that we share your leisure?<br> + In place of cheering drink, which one seeks vainly here,<br> + Your company shall give us pleasure.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>A most fastidious person you appear.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>No doubt ’twas late when you from Rippach started?<br> + And supping there with Hans occasioned your delay?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>We passed, without a call, to-day.<br> + At our last interview, before we parted<br> + Much of his cousins did he speak, entreating<br> + That we should give to each his kindly greeting.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>(<i>He bows to</i> FROSCH.)</p> + </div> + <p>ALTMAYER (<i>aside</i>)</p> + <p>You have it now! he understands.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>A knave sharp-set!</p> + </div> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Just wait awhile: I’ll have him yet.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>If I am right, we heard the sound<br> + Of well-trained voices, singing chorus;<br> + And truly, song must here rebound<br> + Superbly from the arches o’er us.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Are you, perhaps, a virtuoso?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>O no! my wish is great, my power is only so-so.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Give us a song!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>If you desire, a number.</p> + </div> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>So that it be a bran-new strain!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>We’ve just retraced our way from. Spain,<br> + The lovely land of wine, and song, and slumber.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>(<i>Sings</i>.)</p> + </div> + <p>There was a king once reigning,<br> + Who had a big black flea—</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Hear, hear! A flea! D’ye rightly take the jest?<br> + I call a flea a tidy guest.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>sings</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">There was a king once reigning,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Who had a big black flea,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And loved him past explaining,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As his own son were he.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He called his man of stitches;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The tailor came straightway:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Here, measure the lad for breeches.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And measure his coat, I say!</span><br> + </p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>But mind, allow the tailor no caprices:<br> + Enjoin upon him, as his head is dear,<br> + To most exactly measure, sew and shear,<br> + So that the breeches have no creases!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In silk and velvet gleaming</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He now was wholly drest—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Had a coat with ribbons streaming,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A cross upon his breast.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He had the first of stations,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A minister’s star and name;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And also all his relations</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Great lords at court became.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the lords and ladies of honor</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Were plagued, awake and in bed;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The queen she got them upon her,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The maids were bitten and bled.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And they did not dare to brush them,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Or scratch them, day or night:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We crack them and we crush them,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">At once, whene’er they bite.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">CHORUS (<i>shouting</i>)</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We crack them and we crush them,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">At once, whene’er they bite!</span><br> + </p> + <p>FROSCH Bravo! bravo! that was fine.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Every flea may it so befall!</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>Point your fingers and nip them all!</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Hurrah for Freedom! Hurrah for wine!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I fain would drink with you, my glass to Freedom clinking,<br> + If ’twere a better wine that here I see you drinking.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Don’t let us hear that speech again!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Did I not fear the landlord might complain,<br> + I’d treat these worthy guests, with pleasure,<br> + To some from out our cellar’s treasure.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Just treat, and let the landlord me arraign!</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>And if the wine be good, our praises shall be ample.<br> + But do not give too very small a sample;<br> + For, if its quality I decide,<br> + With a good mouthful I must be supplied.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER (<i>aside</i>)</p> + <p>They’re from the Rhine! I guessed as much, before.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Bring me a gimlet here!</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>What shall therewith be done?<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>You’ve not the casks already at the door?<br> + <br></p> + + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Yonder, within the landlord’s box of tools, there’s one!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>takes the gimlet</i>)</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>(<i>To</i> FROSCH.)</p> + </div> + <p>Now, give me of your taste some intimation.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>How do you mean? Have you so many kinds?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The choice is free: make up your minds.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER (<i>to</i> FROSCH)</p> + <p>Aha! you lick your chops, from sheer anticipation.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Good! if I have the choice, so let the wine be Rhenish!<br> + Our Fatherland can best the sparkling cup replenish.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>(<i>boring a hole in the edge of the table, at the place where</i><br> + FROSCH <i>sits</i>)</p> + <p>Get me a little wax, to make the stoppers, quick!</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Ah! I perceive a juggler’s trick.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> BRANDER)</p> + <p>And you?</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>Champagne shall be my wine,<br> + And let it sparkle fresh and fine!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>(<i>bores: in the meantime one has made the wax stoppers, and<br> + plugged the holes with them</i>.)</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>What’s foreign one can’t always keep quite clear of,<br> + For good things, oft, are not so near;<br> + A German can’t endure the French to see or hear of,<br> + Yet drinks their wines with hearty cheer.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>(<i>as</i> MEPHISTOPHELES <i>approaches his seat</i>)<br> + For me, I grant, sour wine is out of place;<br> + Fill up my glass with sweetest, will you?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>boring</i>)</p> + <p>Tokay shall flow at once, to fill you!</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>No—look me, Sirs, straight in the face!<br> + I see you have your fun at our expense.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>O no! with gentlemen of such pretence,<br> + That were to venture far, indeed.<br> + Speak out, and make your choice with speed! With what a vintage can I serve you?</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>With any—only satisfy our need.</p> + <p>(<i>After the holes have been bored and plugged</i>)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>with singular gestures</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Grapes the vine-stem bears,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Horns the he-goat wears!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The grapes are juicy, the vines are + wood,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The wooden table gives wine as good!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Into the depths of Nature + peer,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Only believe there’s a miracle here!</span><br> + </p> + <p>Now draw the stoppers, and drink your fill!</p> + <p>ALL</p> + <p>(<i>as they draw out the stoppers, and the wine which has been<br> + desired flows into the glass of each)</i></p> + <p>O beautiful fountain, that flows at will!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But have a care that you nothing spill!</p> + <p>(<i>They drink repeatedly</i>.)</p> + <p>ALL (<i>sing</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As ’twere five hundred hogs, we + feel</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">So cannibalic jolly!</span><br> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>See, now, the race is happy—it is free!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>To leave them is my inclination.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Take notice, first! their bestiality<br> + Will make a brilliant demonstration.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>(<i>drinks carelessly: the wine spills upon the earth, and turns to<br> + flame</i>)</p> + <p>Help! Fire! Help! Hell-fire is sent!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>charming away the flame)</i></p> + <p>Be quiet, friendly element!</p> + <p>(<i>To the revellers</i>)</p> + <p>A bit of purgatory ’twas for this time, merely.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>What mean you? Wait!—you’ll pay for’t dearly!<br> + You’ll know us, to your detriment.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Don’t try that game a second time upon us!</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>I think we’d better send him packing quietly.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>What, Sir! you dare to make so free,<br> + And play your hocus-pocus on us!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Be still, old wine-tub.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Broomstick, you!<br> + You face it out, impertinent and heady?</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>Just wait! a shower of blows is ready.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>(<i>draws a stopper out of the table: fire flies in his face</i>.)<br> + I burn! I burn!</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>’Tis magic! Strike—<br> + The knave is outlawed! Cut him as you like!<br> + (<i>They draw their knives, and rush upon</i> MEPHISTOPHELES.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>with solemn gestures</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">False word and form of air,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Change place, and sense ensnare!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Be here—and there!</span><br> + </p> + <p>(<i>They stand amazed and look at each other</i>.)</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Where am I? What a lovely land!</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Vines? Can I trust my eyes?</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>And purple grapes at hand!</p> + </div> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>Here, over this green arbor bending,<br> + See what a vine! what grapes depending!</p> + <p>(<i>He takes</i> SIEBEL <i>by the nose: the others do the same reciprocally,<br> + and raise their knives</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>as above</i>)</p> + <p>Loose, Error, from their eyes the band,<br> + And how the Devil jests, be now enlightened!</p> + <p>(<i>He disappears with</i> FAUST: <i>the revellers start and separate</i>.)</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>What happened?</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>How?</p> + </div> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Was that your nose I tightened?</p> + </div> + <p>BRANDER (<i>to</i> SIEBEL)</p> + <p>And yours that still I have in hand?</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>It was a blow that went through every limb!<br> + Give me a chair! I sink! my senses swim.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>But what has happened, tell me now?</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Where is he? If I catch the scoundrel hiding,<br> + He shall not leave alive, I vow.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>I saw him with these eyes upon a wine-cask riding<br> + Out of the cellar-door, just now.<br> + Still in my feet the fright like lead is weighing.<br> + </p> + <div class="indenteds"> + (<i>He turns towards the table</i>.)<br> + </div> + <p> + <br> + Why! If the fount of wine should still be playing?<br> + <br></p> + + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>’Twas all deceit, and lying, false design!</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>And yet it seemed as I were drinking wine.</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>But with the grapes how was it, pray?</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Shall one believe no miracles, just say!</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-117.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-118.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="VI"></a>VI</h2></div> + <p>WITCHES’ KITCHEN</p> + <p>(<i>Upon a low hearth stands a great caldron, under which a fire<br> + is burning. Various figures appear in the vapors which<br> + rise from the caldron. An ape sits beside it, skims it, and<br> + watches lest it boil over. The he-ape, with the young<br> + ones, sits near and warms himself. Ceiling and walls are<br> + covered with the most fantastic witch-implements</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>These crazy signs of witches’ craft repel me!<br> + I shall recover, dost thou tell me,<br> + Through this insane, chaotic play?<br> + From an old hag shall I demand assistance?<br> + And will her foul mess take away<br> + Full thirty years from my existence?<br> + Woe’s me, canst thou naught better find!<br> + Another baffled hope must be lamented:<br> + Has Nature, then, and has a noble mind<br> + Not any potent balsam yet invented?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Once more, my friend, thou talkest sensibly.<br> + There is, to make thee young, a simpler mode and apter;<br> + But in another book ’tis writ for thee,<br> + And is a most eccentric chapter.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Yet will I know it.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Good! the method is revealed<br> + Without or gold or magic or physician.<br> + Betake thyself to yonder field,<br> + There hoe and dig, as thy condition;<br> + Restrain thyself, thy sense and will<br> + Within a narrow sphere to flourish;<br> + With unmixed food thy body nourish;<br> + Live with the ox as ox, and think it not a theft<br> + That thou manur’st the acre which thou reapest;—<br> + That, trust me, is the best mode left,<br> + Whereby for eighty years thy youth thou keepest!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I am not used to that; I cannot stoop to try it—<br> + To take the spade in hand, and ply it.<br> + The narrow being suits me not at all.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Then to thine aid the witch must call.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Wherefore the hag, and her alone?<br> + Canst thou thyself not brew the potion?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>That were a charming sport, I own:<br> + I’d build a thousand bridges meanwhile, I’ve a notion.<br> + Not Art and Science serve, alone;<br> + Patience must in the work be shown.<br> + Long is the calm brain active in creation;<br> + Time, only, strengthens the fine fermentation.<br> + And all, belonging thereunto,<br> + Is rare and strange, howe’er you take it:<br> + The Devil taught the thing, ’tis true,<br> + And yet the Devil cannot make it.<br> + (<i>Perceiving the Animals</i>)<br> + See, what a delicate race they be!<br> + That is the maid! the man is he!<br> + (<i>To the Animals</i>)<br> + It seems the mistress has gone away?</p> + <p>THE ANIMALS</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Carousing, to-day!<br> + Off and about,<br> + By the chimney out!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>What time takes she for dissipating?</p> + <p>THE ANIMALS</p> + <p>While we to warm our paws are waiting.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>How findest thou the tender creatures?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Absurder than I ever yet did see.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Why, just such talk as this, for me,<br> + Is that which has the most attractive features!</p> + <p>(<i>To the Animals</i>)</p> + <p>But tell me now, ye cursed puppets,<br> + Why do ye stir the porridge so?</p> + <p>THE ANIMALS</p> + <p>We’re cooking watery soup for beggars.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Then a great public you can show.</p> + <p>THE HE-APE</p> + <p>(<i>comes up and fawns on</i> MEPHISTOPHELES)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">O cast thou the dice!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Make me rich in a trice,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Let me win in good season!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Things are badly controlled,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And had I but gold,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">So had I my reason.</span><br> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>How would the ape be sure his luck enhances.<br> + Could he but try the lottery’s chances!</p> + <p>(<i>In the meantime the young apes have been playing with a<br> + large ball, which they now roll forward</i>.)</p> + <p>THE HE-APE</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The world’s the ball:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Doth rise and fall,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And roll incessant:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Like glass doth ring,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A hollow thing,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">How soon will’t spring,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And drop, quiescent?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Here bright it gleams,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Here brighter seems:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I live at present!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Dear son, I say,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Keep thou away!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Thy doom is spoken!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">’Tis made of clay,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And will be broken.</span><br> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>What means the sieve?</p> + <p>THE HE-APE (<i>taking it down</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Wert thou the thief,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I’d know him and shame him.</span><br> + <br> + (<i>He runs to the</i> SHE-APE, <i>and lets her look through it</i>.)<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Look through the sieve!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Know’st thou the thief,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And darest not name him?</span><br> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>approaching the fire)</i></p> + <p>And what’s this pot?</p> + <p>HE-APE AND SHE-APE</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The fool knows it not!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He knows not the pot,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He knows not the kettle!</span><br> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Impertinent beast!</p> + <p>THE HE-APE</p> + <p>Take the brush here, at least,<br> + And sit down on the settle!</p> + <p>(<i>He invites</i> MEPHISTOPHELES <i>to sit down</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>(<i>who during all this time has been standing before a mirror,<br> + now approaching and now retreating from it</i>)</p> + <p>What do I see? What heavenly form revealed<br> + Shows through the glass from Magic’s fair dominions!<br> + O lend me, Love, the swiftest of thy pinions,<br> + And bear me to her beauteous field!<br> + Ah, if I leave this spot with fond designing,<br> + If I attempt to venture near,<br> + Dim, as through gathering mist, her charms appear!—<br> + A woman’s form, in beauty shining!<br> + Can woman, then, so lovely be?<br> + And must I find her body, there reclining,<br> + Of all the heavens the bright epitome?<br> + Can Earth with such a thing be mated?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Why, surely, if a God first plagues Himself six days,<br> + Then, self-contented, <i>Bravo</i>! says,<br> + Must something clever be created.<br> + This time, thine eyes be satiate!<br> + I’ll yet detect thy sweetheart and ensnare her,<br> + And blest is he, who has the lucky fate,<br> + Some day, as bridegroom, home to bear her.</p> + <p>(FAUST <i>gazes continually in the mirror</i>. MEPHISTOPHELES,<br> + <i>stretching himself out on the settle, and playing with the<br> + brush, continues to speak</i>.)</p> + <p>So sit I, like the King upon his throne:<br> + I hold the sceptre, here,—and lack the crown alone.</p> + <p>THE ANIMALS</p> + <p>(<i>who up to this time have been making all kinds of fantastic<br> + movements together bring a crown to</i> MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <i>with great noise</i>.)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">O be thou so good</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">With sweat and with blood</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The crown to belime!</span><br> + </p> + <p>(<i>They handle the crown awkwardly and break it into two<br> + pieces, with which they spring around</i>.)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">’Tis done, let it be!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We speak and we see,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We hear and we rhyme!</span><br> + </p> + <p>FAUST (<i>before the mirror</i>)</p> + <p>Woe’s me! I fear to lose my wits.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>pointing to the Animals</i>)</p> + <p>My own head, now, is really nigh to sinking.</p> + <p>THE ANIMALS</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">If lucky our hits,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And everything fits,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">’Tis thoughts, and we’re thinking!</span><br> + </p> + <p>FAUST (<i>as above</i>)</p> + <p>My bosom burns with that sweet vision;<br> + Let us, with speed, away from here!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>in the same attitude</i>)</p> + <p>One must, at least, make this admission—<br> + They’re poets, genuine and sincere.</p> + <p>(<i>The caldron, which the</i> SHE-APE <i>has up to this time neglected<br> + to watch, begins to boil over: there ensues a great flame</i>,<br> + <i>which blazes out the chimney. The</i> WITCH <i>comes careering<br> + down through the flame, with terrible cries</i>.)</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Ow! ow! ow! ow!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The damnéd beast—the curséd + sow!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To leave the kettle, and singe the + Frau!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Accurséd fere!</span><br> + </p> + <p>(<i>Perceiving</i> FAUST <i>and</i> MEPHISTOPHELES.)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">What is that here?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Who are you here?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">What want you thus?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Who sneaks to us?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The fire-pain</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Burn bone and brain!</span><br> + </p> + <p>(<i>She plunges the skimming-ladle into the caldron, and scatters<br> + flames towards</i> FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, <i>and the Animals.<br> + The Animals whimper</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>(<i>reversing the brush, which he has been holding in his hand,<br> + and striding among the jars and glasses</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 5em;">In two! in two!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">There lies the brew!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">There lies the glass!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">The joke will pass,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">As time, foul ass!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">To the singing of thy crew.</span><br> + </p> + <p>(<i>As the</i> WITCH <i>starts back, full of wrath and horror</i>)</p> + <p>Ha! know’st thou me? Abomination, thou!<br> + Know’st thou, at last, thy Lord and Master?<br> + What hinders me from smiting now<br> + Thee and thy monkey-sprites with fell disaster?<br> + Hast for the scarlet coat no reverence?<br> + Dost recognize no more the tall cock’s-feather?<br> + Have I concealed this countenance?—<br> + Must tell my name, old face of leather?</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>O pardon, Sir, the rough salute!<br> + Yet I perceive no cloven foot;<br> + And both your ravens, where are <i>they</i> now?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>This time, I’ll let thee ’scape the debt;<br> + For since we two together met,<br> + ’Tis verily full many a day now.<br> + Culture, which smooth the whole world licks,<br> + Also unto the Devil sticks.<br> + The days of that old Northern phantom now are over:<br> + Where canst thou horns and tail and claws discover?<br> + And, as regards the foot, which I can’t spare, in truth,<br> + ’Twould only make the people shun me;<br> + Therefore I’ve worn, like many a spindly youth,<br> + False calves these many years upon me.</p> + <p>THE WITCH (<i>dancing</i>)</p> + <p>Reason and sense forsake my brain,<br> + Since I behold Squire Satan here again!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Woman, from such a name refrain!</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>Why so? What has it done to thee?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>It’s long been written in the Book of Fable;<br> + Yet, therefore, no whit better men we see:<br> + The Evil One has left, the evil ones are stable.<br> + Sir Baron call me thou, then is the matter good;<br> + A cavalier am I, like others in my bearing.<br> + Thou hast no doubt about my noble blood:<br> + See, here’s the coat-of-arms that I am wearing!</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>(<i>He makes an indecent gesture</i>.)</p> + </div> + <p>THE WITCH (<i>laughs immoderately</i>)</p> + <p>Ha! ha! That’s just your way, I know:<br> + A rogue you are, and you were always so.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>My friend, take proper heed, I pray!<br> + To manage witches, this is just the way.</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>Wherein, Sirs, can I be of use?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Give us a goblet of the well-known juice!<br> + But, I must beg you, of the oldest brewage;<br> + The years a double strength produce.</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>With all my heart! Now, here’s a bottle,<br> + Wherefrom, sometimes, I wet my throttle,<br> + Which, also, not the slightest, stinks;<br> + And willingly a glass I’ll fill him.</p> + <p>(<i>Whispering</i>)</p> + <p>Yet, if this man without due preparation drinks,<br> + As well thou know’st, within an hour ’twill kill him.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>He is a friend of mine, with whom it will agree,<br> + And he deserves thy kitchen’s best potation:<br> + Come, draw thy circle, speak thine adjuration,<br> + And fill thy goblet full and free!</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>(<i>with fantastic gestures draws a circle and places mysterious<br> + articles therein; meanwhile the glasses begin to ring, the<br> + caldron to sound, and make a musical accompaniment.<br> + Finally she brings a great book, and stations in the circle<br> + the Apes, who are obliged to serve as reading-desk, and to<br> + hold the torches. She then beckons</i> FAUST <i>to approach</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>to</i> MEPHISTOPHELES)</p> + <p>Now, what shall come of this? the creatures antic,<br> + The crazy stuff, the gestures frantic,—<br> + All the repulsive cheats I view,—<br> + Are known to me, and hated, too.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>O, nonsense! That’s a thing for laughter;<br> + Don’t be so terribly severe!<br> + She juggles you as doctor now, that, after,<br> + The beverage may work the proper cheer.</p> + <p>(<i>He persuades</i> FAUST <i>to step into the circle</i>.)</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>(<i>begins to declaim, with much emphasis, from the book</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">See, thus it’s done!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Make ten of one,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And two let be,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Make even three,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And rich thou ’It be.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Cast o’er the four!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">From five and six</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">(The witch’s tricks)</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Make seven and eight,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">’Tis finished straight!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And nine is one,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And ten is none.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">This is the witch’s once-one’s-one!</span><br> + </p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>She talks like one who raves in fever.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Thou’lt hear much more before we leave her.<br> + ’Tis all the same: the book I can repeat,<br> + Such time I’ve squandered o’er the history:<br> + A contradiction thus complete<br> + Is always for the wise, no less than fools, a mystery.<br> + The art is old and new, for verily<br> + All ages have been taught the matter,—<br> + By Three and One, and One and Three,<br> + Error instead of Truth to scatter.<br> + They prate and teach, and no one interferes;<br> + All from the fellowship of fools are shrinking.<br> + Man usually believes, if only words he hears,<br> + That also with them goes material for thinking!</p> + <p>THE WITCH (<i>continues</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The lofty skill</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Of Science, still</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">From all men deeply hidden!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Who takes no thought,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To him ’tis brought,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">’Tis given unsought, unbidden!</span><br> + </p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What nonsense she declaims before us!<br> + My head is nigh to split, I fear:<br> + It seems to me as if I hear<br> + A hundred thousand fools in chorus.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>O Sibyl excellent, enough of adjuration!<br> + But hither bring us thy potation,<br> + And quickly fill the beaker to the brim!<br> + This drink will bring my friend no injuries:<br> + He is a man of manifold degrees,<br> + And many draughts are known to him.</p> + <p>(<i>The</i> WITCH, <i>with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a<br> + cup; as</i> FAUST <i>sets it to his lips, a light flame arises</i>.)</p> + <p>Down with it quickly! Drain it off!<br> + ’Twill warm thy heart with new desire:<br> + Art with the Devil hand and glove,<br> + And wilt thou be afraid of fire?</p> + <p>(<i>The</i> WITCH <i>breaks the circle</i>: FAUST <i>steps forth</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And now, away! Thou dar’st not rest.</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>And much good may the liquor do thee!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to the</i> WITCH)</p> + <p>Thy wish be on Walpurgis Night expressed;<br> + What boon I have, shall then be given unto thee.</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>Here is a song, which, if you sometimes sing,<br> + You’ll find it of peculiar operation.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>Come, walk at once! A rapid occupation<br> + Must start the needful perspiration,<br> + And through thy frame the liquor’s potence fling.<br> + The noble indolence I’ll teach thee then to treasure,<br> + And soon thou’lt be aware, with keenest thrills of pleasure,<br> + How Cupid stirs and leaps, on light and restless wing.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>One rapid glance within the mirror give me,<br> + How beautiful that woman-form!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>No, no! The paragon of all, believe me,<br> + Thou soon shalt see, alive and warm.</p> + <p><i>(Aside)</i></p> + <p>Thou’lt find, this drink thy blood compelling,<br> + Each woman beautiful as Helen!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-131.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-132.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="VII"></a>VII</h2></div> + <p>STREET</p> + <p>FAUST MARGARET <i>(passing by)</i></p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Fair lady, let it not offend you,<br> + That arm and escort I would lend you!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I’m neither lady, neither fair,<br> + And home I can go without your care.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>She releases herself, and exit</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>By Heaven, the girl is wondrous fair!<br> + Of all I’ve seen, beyond compare;<br> + So sweetly virtuous and pure,<br> + And yet a little pert, be sure!<br> + The lip so red, the cheek’s clear dawn,</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-133.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <p>I’ll not forget while the world rolls on!<br> + How she cast down her timid eyes,<br> + Deep in my heart imprinted lies:<br> + How short and sharp of speech was she,<br> + Why, ’twas a real ecstasy!</p> + <p>(MEPHISTOPHELES <i>enters</i>)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Hear, of that girl I’d have possession!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Which, then?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>The one who just went by.</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>She, there? She’s coming from confession,<br> + Of every sin absolved; for I,<br> + Behind her chair, was listening nigh.<br> + So innocent is she, indeed,<br> + That to confess she had no need.<br> + I have no power o’er souls so green.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And yet, she’s older than fourteen.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>How now! You’re talking like Jack Rake,<br> + Who every flower for himself would take,<br> + And fancies there are no favors more,<br> + Nor honors, save for him in store;<br> + Yet always doesn’t the thing succeed.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Most Worthy Pedagogue, take heed!<br> + Let not a word of moral law be spoken!<br> + I claim, I tell thee, all my right;<br> + And if that image of delight<br> + Rest not within mine arms to-night,<br> + At midnight is our compact broken.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But think, the chances of the case!<br> + I need, at least, a fortnight’s space,<br> + To find an opportune occasion.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Had I but seven hours for all,<br> + I should not on the Devil call,<br> + But win her by my own persuasion.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>You almost like a Frenchman prate;<br> + Yet, pray, don’t take it as annoyance!<br> + Why, all at once, exhaust the joyance?<br> + Your bliss is by no means so great<br> + As if you’d use, to get control,<br> + All sorts of tender rigmarole,<br> + And knead and shape her to your thought,<br> + As in Italian tales ’tis taught.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Without that, I have appetite.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But now, leave jesting out of sight!<br> + I tell you, once for all, that speed<br> + With this fair girl will not succeed;<br> + By storm she cannot captured be;<br> + We must make use of strategy.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Get me something the angel keeps!<br> + Lead me thither where she sleeps!<br> + Get me a kerchief from her breast,—<br> + A garter that her knee has pressed!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>That you may see how much I’d fain<br> + Further and satisfy your pain,<br> + We will no longer lose a minute;<br> + I’ll find her room to-day, and take you in it.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And shall I see—possess her?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>No!<br> + </p> + </div> + <p> + Unto a neighbor she must go,<br> + And meanwhile thou, alone, mayst glow<br> + With every hope of future pleasure,<br> + Breathing her atmosphere in fullest measure.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Can we go thither?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>’Tis too early yet.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>A gift for her I bid thee get!<br> + </p> + <div class="indentedss"> + [<i>Exit</i>.<br> + <br> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Presents at once? That’s good: he’s certain to get at her!<br> + Full many a pleasant place I know,<br> + And treasures, buried long ago:<br> + I must, perforce, look up the matter. <i>[Exit</i>.</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-138.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2></div> + <p>EVENING A SMALL, NEATLY KEPT CHAMBER</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>(<i>plaiting and binding up the braids of her hair</i>)</p> + <p>I’d something give, could I but say<br> + Who was that gentleman, to-day.<br> + Surely a gallant man was he,<br> + And of a noble family;<br> + And much could I in his face behold,—<br> + And he wouldn’t, else, have been so bold!</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 15em;">[<i>Exit</i></span><br></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES FAUST</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Come in, but gently: follow me!</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>after a moment’s silence</i>)</p> + <p>Leave me alone, I beg of thee!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>prying about</i>)</p> + <p>Not every girl keeps things so neat.</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>looking around</i>)</p> + <p>O welcome, twilight soft and sweet,<br> + That breathes throughout this hallowed shrine!<br> + Sweet pain of love, bind thou with fetters fleet<br> + The heart that on the dew of hope must pine!<br> + How all around a sense impresses<br> + Of quiet, order, and content!<br> + This poverty what bounty blesses!<br> + What bliss within this narrow den is pent!</p> + <p>(<i>He throws himself into a leathern arm-chair near the bed</i>.)</p> + <p>Receive me, thou, that in thine open arms<br> + Departed joy and pain wert wont to gather!<br> + How oft the children, with their ruddy charms,<br> + Hung here, around this throne, where sat the father!<br> + Perchance my love, amid the childish band,<br> + Grateful for gifts the Holy Christmas gave her,<br> + Here meekly kissed the grandsire’s withered hand.<br> + I feel, O maid! thy very soul<br> + Of order and content around me whisper,—<br> + Which leads thee with its motherly control,<br> + The cloth upon thy board bids smoothly thee unroll,<br> + The sand beneath thy feet makes whiter, crisper.<br> + O dearest hand, to thee ’tis given<br> + To change this hut into a lower heaven!<br> + And here!</p> + <p>(<i>He lifts one of the bed-curtains</i>.)</p> + <p>What sweetest thrill is in my blood!<br> + Here could I spend whole hours, delaying:<br> + Here Nature shaped, as if in sportive playing,<br> + The angel blossom from the bud.<br> + Here lay the child, with Life’s warm essence<br> + The tender bosom filled and fair,<br> + And here was wrought, through holier, purer presence,<br> + The form diviner beings wear!</p> + <p>And I? What drew me here with power?<br> + How deeply am I moved, this hour!<br> + What seek I? Why so full my heart, and sore?<br> + Miserable Faust! I know thee now no more.</p> + <p>Is there a magic vapor here?<br> + I came, with lust of instant pleasure,<br> + And lie dissolved in dreams of love’s sweet leisure!<br> + Are we the sport of every changeful atmosphere?</p> + <p>And if, this moment, came she in to me,<br> + How would I for the fault atonement render!<br> + How small the giant lout would be,<br> + Prone at her feet, relaxed and tender!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Be quick! I see her there, returning.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Go! go! I never will retreat.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Here is a casket, not unmeet,<br> + Which elsewhere I have just been earning.<br> + Here, set it in the press, with haste!<br> + I swear, ’twill turn her head, to spy it:<br> + Some baubles I therein had placed,<br> + That you might win another by it.<br> + True, child is child, and play is play.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I know not, should I do it?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Ask you, pray?</p> + </div> + <p> + Yourself, perhaps, would keep the bubble?<br> + Then I suggest, ’twere fair and just<br> + To spare the lovely day your lust,<br> + And spare to me the further trouble.<br> + You are not miserly, I trust?<br> + I rub my hands, in expectation tender—<br> + <br></p> + + <p>(<i>He places the casket in the press, and locks it again</i>.)</p> + <p>Now quick, away!<br> + The sweet young maiden to betray,<br> + So that by wish and will you bend her;<br> + And you look as though<br> + To the lecture-hall you were forced to go,—<br> + As if stood before you, gray and loath,<br> + Physics and Metaphysics both!<br> + But away!</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + [<i>Exeunt</i>.<br> + <br> + </div> + <p>MARGARET (<i>with a lamp</i>)</p> + <p>It is so close, so sultry, here!</p> + <p>(<i>She opens the window</i>)</p> + <p>And yet ’tis not so warm outside.<br> + I feel, I know not why, such fear!—<br> + Would mother came!—where can she bide?<br> + My body’s chill and shuddering,—<br> + I’m but a silly, fearsome thing!</p> + <p>(<i>She begins to sing while undressing</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">There was a King in Thule,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Was faithful till the grave,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">To whom his mistress, dying,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">A golden goblet gave.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Naught was to him more precious;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">He drained it at every bout:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">His eyes with tears ran over,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">As oft as he drank thereout.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">When came his time of dying,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The towns in his land he told,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Naught else to his heir denying</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Except the goblet of gold.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">He sat at the royal banquet</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">With his knights of high degree,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">In the lofty hall of his fathers</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">In the Castle by the Sea.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">There stood the old carouser,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And drank the last life-glow;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And hurled the hallowed goblet</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Into the tide below.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">He saw it plunging and filling,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And sinking deep in the sea:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Then fell his eyelids forever,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And never more drank he!</span><br> + </p> + <p>(<i>She opens the press in order to arrange her clothes, and perceives<br> + the casket of jewels</i>.)</p> + <p>How comes that lovely casket here to me?<br> + I locked the press, most certainly.<br> + ’Tis truly wonderful! What can within it be?<br> + Perhaps ’twas brought by some one as a pawn,<br> + And mother gave a loan thereon?<br> + And here there hangs a key to fit:<br> + I have a mind to open it.<br> + What is that? God in Heaven! Whence came<br> + Such things? Never beheld I aught so fair!<br> + Rich ornaments, such as a noble dame<br> + On highest holidays might wear!<br> + How would the pearl-chain suit my hair?<br> + Ah, who may all this splendor own?</p> + <p>(<i>She adorns herself with the jewelry, and steps before the<br> + mirror</i>.)</p> + <p>Were but the ear-rings mine, alone!<br> + One has at once another air.<br> + What helps one’s beauty, youthful blood?<br> + One may possess them, well and good;<br> + But none the more do others care.<br> + They praise us half in pity, sure:<br> + To gold still tends,<br> + On gold depends<br> + All, all! Alas, we poor!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-143.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-144.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="IX"></a>IX</h2></div> + <p>PROMENADE</p> + <p>(FAUST, <i>walking thoughtfully up and down. To him</i> MEPHISTOPHELES.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>By all love ever rejected! By hell-fire hot and unsparing!<br> + I wish I knew something worse, that I might use it for<br> + swearing!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What ails thee? What is’t gripes thee, elf?<br> + A face like thine beheld I never.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I would myself unto the Devil deliver,<br> + If I were not a Devil myself!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thy head is out of order, sadly:<br> + It much becomes thee to be raving madly.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Just think, the pocket of a priest should get<br> + The trinkets left for Margaret!<br> + The mother saw them, and, instanter,<br> + A secret dread began to haunt her.<br> + Keen scent has she for tainted air;<br> + She snuffs within her book of prayer,<br> + And smells each article, to see<br> + If sacred or profane it be;<br> + So here she guessed, from every gem,<br> + That not much blessing came with them.<br> + “My child,” she said, “ill-gotten good<br> + Ensnares the soul, consumes the blood.<br> + Before the Mother of God we’ll lay it;<br> + With heavenly manna she’ll repay it!”<br> + But Margaret thought, with sour grimace,<br> + “A gift-horse is not out of place,<br> + And, truly! godless cannot be<br> + The one who brought such things to me.”<br> + A parson came, by the mother bidden:<br> + He saw, at once, where the game was hidden,<br> + And viewed it with a favor stealthy.<br> + He spake: “That is the proper view,—<br> + Who overcometh, winneth too.<br> + The Holy Church has a stomach healthy:<br> + Hath eaten many a land as forfeit,<br> + And never yet complained of surfeit:<br> + The Church alone, beyond all question,<br> + Has for ill-gotten goods the right digestion.”</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>A general practice is the same,<br> + Which Jew and King may also claim.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Then bagged the spangles, chains, and rings,<br> + As if but toadstools were the things,<br> + And thanked no less, and thanked no more<br> + Than if a sack of nuts he bore,—<br> + Promised them fullest heavenly pay,<br> + And deeply edified were they.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And Margaret?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Sits unrestful still,<br> + And knows not what she should, or will;<br> + Thinks on the jewels, day and night,<br> + But more on him who gave her such delight.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The darling’s sorrow gives me pain.<br> + Get thou a set for her again!<br> + The first was not a great display.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>O yes, the gentleman finds it all child’s-play!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Fix and arrange it to my will;<br> + And on her neighbor try thy skill!<br> + Don’t be a Devil stiff as paste,<br> + But get fresh jewels to her taste!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yes, gracious Sir, in all obedience!</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>Exit</i> FAUST.</p> + </div> + <p>Such an enamored fool in air would blow<br> + Sun, moon, and all the starry legions,<br> + To give his sweetheart a diverting show.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>Exit</i>.</p> + </div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-147.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="X"></a>X</h2></div> + <p>THE NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>solus</i>)</p> + <p>God forgive my husband, yet he<br> + Hasn’t done his duty by me!<br> + Off in the world he went straightway,—<br> + Left me lie in the straw where I lay.<br> + And, truly, I did naught to fret him:<br> + God knows I loved, and can’t forget him!</p> + <p>(<i>She weeps</i>.)</p> + <p>Perhaps he’s even dead! Ah, woe!—<br> + Had I a certificate to show!</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>comes</i>)</p> + <p>Dame Martha!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Margaret! what’s happened thee?</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I scarce can stand, my knees are trembling!<br> + I find a box, the first resembling,<br> + Within my press! Of ebony,—<br> + And things, all splendid to behold,<br> + And richer far than were the old.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>You mustn’t tell it to your mother!<br> + ’Twould go to the priest, as did the other.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Ah, look and see—just look and see!</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>adorning her</i>)</p> + <p>O, what a blessed luck for thee!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>But, ah! in the streets I dare not bear them,<br> + Nor in the church be seen to wear them.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Yet thou canst often this way wander,<br> + And secretly the jewels don,<br> + Walk up and down an hour, before the mirror yonder,—<br> + We’ll have our private joy thereon.<br> + And then a chance will come, a holiday,<br> + When, piece by piece, can one the things abroad display,<br> + A chain at first, then other ornament:<br> + Thy mother will not see, and stories we’ll invent.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Whoever could have brought me things so precious?<br> + That something’s wrong, I feel suspicious.</p> + <p>(<i>A knock</i>)</p> + <p>Good Heaven! My mother can that have been?</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>peeping through the blind</i>)</p> + <p>’Tis some strange gentleman.—Come in!</p> + <p>(MEPHISTOPHELES <i>enters</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>That I so boldly introduce me,<br> + I beg you, ladies, to excuse me.</p> + <p>(<i>Steps back reverently, on seeing</i> MARGARET.)</p> + <p>For Martha Schwerdtlein I’d inquire!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>I’m she: what does the gentleman desire?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>aside to her</i>)</p> + <p>It is enough that you are she:<br> + You’ve a visitor of high degree.<br> + Pardon the freedom I have ta’en,—<br> + Will after noon return again.</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>aloud</i>)</p> + <p>Of all things in the world! Just hear—<br> + He takes thee for a lady, dear!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I am a creature young and poor:<br> + The gentleman’s too kind, I’m sure.<br> + The jewels don’t belong to me.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Ah, not alone the jewelry!<br> + The look, the manner, both betray—<br> + Rejoiced am I that I may stay!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>What is your business? I would fain—</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I would I had a more cheerful strain!<br> + Take not unkindly its repeating:<br> + Your husband’s dead, and sends a greeting.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Is dead? Alas, that heart so true!<br> + My husband dead! Let me die, too!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Ah, dearest dame, let not your courage fail!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Hear me relate the mournful tale!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Therefore I’d never love, believe me!<br> + A loss like this to death would grieve me.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Joy follows woe, woe after joy comes flying.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Relate his life’s sad close to me!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>In Padua buried, he is lying<br> + Beside the good Saint Antony,<br> + Within a grave well consecrated,<br> + For cool, eternal rest created.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>He gave you, further, no commission?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yes, one of weight, with many sighs:<br> + Three hundred masses buy, to save him from perdition!<br> + My hands are empty, otherwise.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>What! Not a pocket-piece? no jewelry?<br> + What every journeyman within his wallet spares,<br> + And as a token with him bears,<br> + And rather starves or begs, than loses?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Madam, it is a grief to me;<br> + Yet, on my word, his cash was put to proper uses.<br> + Besides, his penitence was very sore,<br> + And he lamented his ill fortune all the more.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Alack, that men are so unfortunate!<br> + Surely for his soul’s sake full many a prayer I’ll proffer.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>You well deserve a speedy marriage-offer:<br> + You are so kind, compassionate.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>O, no! As yet, it would not do.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>If not a husband, then a beau for you!<br> + It is the greatest heavenly blessing,<br> + To have a dear thing for one’s caressing.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>The country’s custom is not so.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Custom, or not! It happens, though.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Continue, pray!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I stood beside his bed of dying.<br> + ’Twas something better than manure,—<br> + Half-rotten straw: and yet, he died a Christian, sure,<br> + And found that heavier scores to his account were lying.<br> + He cried: “I find my conduct wholly hateful!<br> + To leave my wife, my trade, in manner so ungrateful!<br> + Ah, the remembrance makes me die!<br> + Would of my wrong to her I might be shriven!”</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>weeping</i>)</p> + <p>The dear, good man! Long since was he forgiven.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>“Yet she, God knows! was more to blame than I.”</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>He lied! What! On the brink of death he slandered?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>In the last throes his senses wandered,<br> + If I such things but half can judge.<br> + He said: “I had no time for play, for gaping freedom:<br> + First children, and then work for bread to feed ’em,—<br> + For bread, in the widest sense, to drudge,<br> + And could not even eat my share in peace and quiet!”</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Had he all love, all faith forgotten in his riot?<br> + My work and worry, day and night?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Not so: the memory of it touched him quite.<br> + Said he: “When I from Malta went away<br> + My prayers for wife and little ones were zealous,<br> + And such a luck from Heaven befell us,<br> + We made a Turkish merchantman our prey,<br> + That to the Soldan bore a mighty treasure.<br> + Then I received, as was most fit,<br> + Since bravery was paid in fullest measure,<br> + My well-apportioned share of it.”</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Say, how? Say, where? If buried, did he own it?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Who knows, now, whither the four winds have blown it?<br> + A fair young damsel took him in her care,<br> + As he in Naples wandered round, unfriended;<br> + And she much love, much faith to him did bear,<br> + So that he felt it till his days were ended.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>The villain! From his children thieving!<br> + Even all the misery on him cast<br> + Could not prevent his shameful way of living!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But see! He’s dead therefrom, at last.<br> + Were I in <i>your</i> place, do not doubt me,<br> + I’d mourn him decently a year,<br> + And for another keep, meanwhile, my eyes about me.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Ah, God! another one so dear<br> + As was my first, this world will hardly give me.<br> + There never was a sweeter fool than mine,<br> + Only he loved to roam and leave me,<br> + And foreign wenches and foreign wine,<br> + And the damned throw of dice, indeed.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Well, well! That might have done, however,<br> + If he had only been as clever,<br> + And treated <i>your</i> slips with as little heed.<br> + I swear, with this condition, too,<br> + I would, myself, change rings with you.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>The gentleman is pleased to jest.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I’ll cut away, betimes, from here:<br> + She’d take the Devil at his word, I fear.</p> + <p>(<i>To</i> MARGARET)</p> + <p>How fares the heart within your breast?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>What means the gentleman?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>aside</i>)</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Sweet innocent, thou art!</p> + </div> + <p>(<i>Aloud</i>.)</p> + <p>Ladies, farewell!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Farewell!</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>A moment, ere we part!<br> + </p> + </div> + <p> + I’d like to have a legal witness,<br> + Where, how, and when he died, to certify his fitness.<br> + Irregular ways I’ve always hated;<br> + I want his death in the weekly paper stated.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yes, my good dame, a pair of witnesses<br> + Always the truth establishes.<br> + I have a friend of high condition,<br> + Who’ll also add his deposition.<br> + I’ll bring him here.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Good Sir, pray do!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And this young lady will be present, too?<br> + A gallant youth! has travelled far:<br> + Ladies with him delighted are.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Before him I should blush, ashamed.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Before no king that could be named!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Behind the house, in my garden, then,<br> + This eve we’ll expect the gentlemen.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-155.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-156.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XI"></a>XI</h2></div> + <p>A STREET</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>How is it? under way? and soon complete?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Ah, bravo! Do I find you burning?<br> + Well, Margaret soon will still your yearning:<br> + At Neighbor Martha’s you’ll this evening meet.<br> + A fitter woman ne’er was made<br> + To ply the pimp and gypsy trade!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Tis well.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>Yet something is required from us.</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>One service pays the other thus.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>We’ve but to make a deposition valid<br> + That now her husband’s limbs, outstretched and pallid,<br> + At Padua rest, in consecrated soil.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Most wise! And first, of course, we’ll make the journey<br> + thither?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p><i>Sancta simplicitas</i>! no need of such a toil;<br> + Depose, with knowledge or without it, either!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>If you’ve naught better, then, I’ll tear your pretty plan!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Now, there you are! O holy man!<br> + Is it the first time in your life you’re driven<br> + To bear false witness in a case?<br> + Of God, the world and all that in it has a place,<br> + Of Man, and all that moves the being of his race,<br> + Have you not terms and definitions given<br> + With brazen forehead, daring breast?<br> + And, if you’ll probe the thing profoundly,<br> + Knew you so much—and you’ll confess it roundly!—<br> + As here of Schwerdtlein’s death and place of rest?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou art, and thou remain’st, a sophist, liar.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yes, knew I not more deeply thy desire.<br> + For wilt thou not, no lover fairer,<br> + Poor Margaret flatter, and ensnare her,<br> + And all thy soul’s devotion swear her?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And from my heart.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>’Tis very fine!<br> + </p> + </div> + <p> + Thine endless love, thy faith assuring,<br> + The one almighty force enduring,—<br> + Will that, too, prompt this heart of thine?<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Hold! hold! It will!—If such my flame,<br> + And for the sense and power intense<br> + I seek, and cannot find, a name;<br> + Then range with all my senses through creation,<br> + Craving the speech of inspiration,<br> + And call this ardor, so supernal,<br> + Endless, eternal and eternal,—<br> + Is that a devilish lying game?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And yet I’m right!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Mark this, I beg of thee!<br> + </p> + </div> + <p> + And spare my lungs henceforth: whoever<br> + Intends to have the right, if but his<br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">tongue be clever,</span><br> + Will have it, certainly.<br> + But come: the further talking brings<br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">disgust,</span><br> + For thou art right, especially since I<br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">must.</span><br> + <br> + <br> +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-158.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-159.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XII"></a>XII</h2></div> + <p>GARDEN</p> + <p>(MARGARET <i>on</i> FAUST’S <i>arm</i>. MARTHA <i>and</i> MEPHISTOPHELES + <i>walking up and down</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I feel, the gentleman allows for me,<br> + Demeans himself, and shames me by it;<br> + A traveller is so used to be<br> + Kindly content with any diet.<br> + I know too well that my poor gossip can<br> + Ne’er entertain such an experienced man.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>A look from thee, a word, more entertains<br> + Than all the lore of wisest brains.</p> + <p>(<i>He kisses her hand</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Don’t incommode yourself! How could you ever kiss it!<br> + It is so ugly, rough to see!<br> + What work I do,—how hard and steady is it!<br> + Mother is much too close with me.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>They pass</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>And you, Sir, travel always, do you not?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Alas, that trade and duty us so harry!<br> + With what a pang one leaves so many a spot,<br> + And dares not even now and then to tarry!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>In young, wild years it suits your ways,<br> + This round and round the world in freedom sweeping;<br> + But then come on the evil days,<br> + And so, as bachelor, into his grave a-creeping,<br> + None ever found a thing to praise.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I dread to see how such a fate advances.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Then, worthy Sir, improve betimes your chances!</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>They pass</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Yes, out of sight is out of mind!<br> + Your courtesy an easy grace is;<br> + But you have friends in other places,<br> + And sensibler than I, you’ll find.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Trust me, dear heart! what men call sensible<br> + Is oft mere vanity and narrowness.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>How so?</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Ah, that simplicity and innocence ne’er know<br> + Themselves, their holy value, and their spell!<br> + That meekness, lowliness, the highest graces<br> + Which Nature portions out so lovingly—</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>So you but think a moment’s space on me,<br> + All times I’ll have to think on you, all places!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>No doubt you’re much alone?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Yes, for our household small has grown,<br> + Yet must be cared for, you will own.<br> + We have no maid: I do the knitting, sewing, sweeping,<br> + The cooking, early work and late, in fact;<br> + And mother, in her notions of housekeeping,<br> + Is so exact!<br> + Not that she needs so much to keep expenses down:<br> + We, more than others, might take comfort, rather:<br> + A nice estate was left us by my father,<br> + A house, a little garden near the town.<br> + But now my days have less of noise and hurry;<br> + My brother is a soldier,<br> + My little sister’s dead.<br> + True, with the child a troubled life I led,<br> + Yet I would take again, and willing, all the worry,<br> + So very dear was she.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>An angel, if like thee!</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I brought it up, and it was fond of me.<br> + Father had died before it saw the light,<br> + And mother’s case seemed hopeless quite,<br> + So weak and miserable she lay;<br> + And she recovered, then, so slowly, day by day.<br> + She could not think, herself, of giving<br> + The poor wee thing its natural living;<br> + And so I nursed it all alone<br> + With milk and water: ’twas my own.<br> + Lulled in my lap with many a song,<br> + It smiled, and tumbled, and grew strong.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The purest bliss was surely then thy dower.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>But surely, also, many a weary hour.<br> + I kept the baby’s cradle near<br> + My bed at night: if ’t even stirred, I’d guess it,<br> + And waking, hear.<br> + And I must nurse it, warm beside me press it,<br> + And oft, to quiet it, my bed forsake,<br> + And dandling back and forth the restless creature take,<br> + Then at the wash-tub stand, at morning’s break;<br> + And then the marketing and kitchen-tending,<br> + Day after day, the same thing, never-ending.<br> + One’s spirits, Sir, are thus not always good,<br> + But then one learns to relish rest and food.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>They pass</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Yes, the poor women are bad off, ’tis true:<br> + A stubborn bachelor there’s no converting.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>It but depends upon the like of you,<br> + And I should turn to better ways than flirting.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Speak plainly, Sir, have you no one detected?<br> + Has not your heart been anywhere subjected?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The proverb says: One’s own warm hearth<br> + And a good wife, are gold and jewels worth.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>I mean, have you not felt desire, though ne’er so slightly?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I’ve everywhere, in fact, been entertained politely.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>I meant to say, were you not touched in earnest, ever?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>One should allow one’s self to jest with ladies never.</p> + <p>MARTHA Ah, you don’t understand!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I’m sorry I’m so blind: But I am sure—that you are very kind.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>They pass</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And me, thou angel! didst thou recognize,<br> + As through the garden-gate I came?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Did you not see it? I cast down my eyes.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And thou forgiv’st my freedom, and the blame<br> + To my impertinence befitting,<br> + As the Cathedral thou wert quitting?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I was confused, the like ne’er happened me;<br> + No one could ever speak to my discredit.<br> + Ah, thought I, in my conduct has he read it—<br> + Something immodest or unseemly free?<br> + He seemed to have the sudden feeling<br> + That with this wench ’twere very easy dealing.<br> + I will confess, I knew not what appeal<br> + On your behalf, here, in my bosom grew;<br> + But I was angry with myself, to feel<br> + That I could not be angrier with you.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Sweet darling!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Wait a while!</p> + </div> + <p>(<i>She plucks a star-flower, and pulls off the leaves, one after<br> + the other</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Shall that a nosegay be?</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>No, it is just in play.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>How?</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Go! you’ll laugh at me.<br> + </p> + </div> + <p> + (<i>She pulls off the leaves and murmurs</i>.)<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What murmurest thou?</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>half aloud</i>)</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>He loves me—loves me not.</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou sweet, angelic soul!</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>continues</i>)</p> + <p>Loves me—not—loves me—not—<br> + (<i>plucking the last leaf, she cries with frank delight</i>:)</p> + <p>He loves me!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Yes, child! and let this blossom-word<br> + For thee be speech divine! He loves thee!<br> + Ah, know’st thou what it means? He loves thee!</p> + <p>(<i>He grasps both her hands</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I’m all a-tremble!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>O tremble not! but let this look,<br> + Let this warm clasp of hands declare thee<br> + What is unspeakable!<br> + To yield one wholly, and to feel a rapture<br> + In yielding, that must be eternal!<br> + Eternal!—for the end would be despair.<br> + No, no,—no ending! no ending!</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>coming forward</i>)</p> + <p>The night is falling.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Ay! we must away.</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>I’d ask you, longer here to tarry,<br> + But evil tongues in this town have full play.<br> + It’s as if nobody had nothing to fetch and carry,<br> + Nor other labor,<br> + But spying all the doings of one’s neighbor:<br> + And one becomes the talk, do whatsoe’er one may.<br> + Where is our couple now?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Flown up the alley yonder,<br> + </p> + </div> + <p> + The wilful summer-birds!<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MARTHA</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>He seems of her still fonder.</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And she of him. So runs the world away!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-166.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-167.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XIII"></a>XIII</h2></div> + <p>A GARDEN-ARBOR</p> + <p>(MARGARET <i>comes in, conceals herself behind the door, puts her<br> + finger to her lips, and peeps through the crack</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>He comes!</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>entering</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 9em;">Ah, rogue! a tease thou art:</span><br> + I have thee! (<i>He kisses her</i>.)<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>(<i>clasping him, and returning the kiss</i>)<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Dearest man! I love thee from my heart.</span><br></p> + + <p>(MEPHISTOPHELES <i>knocks</i>)</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>stamping his foot</i>)</p> + <p>Who’s there?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>A friend!</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>A beast!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Tis time to separate.</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA (<i>coming</i>)</p> + <p>Yes, Sir, ’tis late.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>May I not, then, upon you wait?</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>My mother would—farewell!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Ah, can I not remain?<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>Farewell!<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MARTHA</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>Adieu!</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>And soon to meet again!</p> + </div> + <div class="indented"> + <p>[<i>Exeunt</i> FAUST <i>and</i> MEPHISTOPHELES.</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Dear God! However is it, such<br> + A man can think and know so much?<br> + I stand ashamed and in amaze,<br> + And answer “Yes” to all he says,<br> + A poor, unknowing child! and he—<br> + I can’t think what he finds in me! [<i>Exit</i>.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-169.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XIV"></a>XIV</h2></div> + <p>FOREST AND CAVERN</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>solus</i>)</p> + <p>Spirit sublime, thou gav’st me, gav’st me all<br> + For which I prayed. Not unto me in vain<br> + Hast thou thy countenance revealed in fire.<br> + Thou gav’st me Nature as a kingdom grand,<br> + With power to feel and to enjoy it. Thou<br> + Not only cold, amazed acquaintance yield’st,<br> + But grantest, that in her profoundest breast<br> + I gaze, as in the bosom of a friend.<br> + The ranks of living creatures thou dost lead<br> + Before me, teaching me to know my brothers<br> + In air and water and the silent wood.<br> + And when the storm in forests roars and grinds,<br> + The giant firs, in falling, neighbor boughs<br> + And neighbor trunks with crushing weight bear down,<br> + And falling, fill the hills with hollow thunders,—<br> + Then to the cave secure thou leadest me,<br> + Then show’st me mine own self, and in my breast<br> + The deep, mysterious miracles unfold.<br> + And when the perfect moon before my gaze<br> + Comes up with soothing light, around me float<br> + From every precipice and thicket damp<br> + The silvery phantoms of the ages past,<br> + And temper the austere delight of thought.</p> + <p>That nothing can be perfect unto Man<br> + I now am conscious. With this ecstasy,<br> + Which brings me near and nearer to the Gods,<br> + Thou gav’st the comrade, whom I now no more<br> + Can do without, though, cold and scornful, he<br> + Demeans me to myself, and with a breath,<br> + A word, transforms thy gifts to nothingness.<br> + Within my breast he fans a lawless fire,<br> + Unwearied, for that fair and lovely form:<br> + Thus in desire I hasten to enjoyment,<br> + And in enjoyment pine to feel desire.</p> + <p>(MEPHISTOPHELES <i>enters</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Have you not led this life quite long enough?<br> + How can a further test delight you?<br> + ’Tis very well, that once one tries the stuff,<br> + But something new must then requite you.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Would there were other work for thee!<br> + To plague my day auspicious thou returnest.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Well! I’ll engage to let thee be:<br> + Thou darest not tell me so in earnest.<br> + The loss of thee were truly very slight,—<br> + comrade crazy, rude, repelling:</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-171.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <p>One has one’s hands full all the day and night;<br> + If what one does, or leaves undone, is right,<br> + From such a face as thine there is no telling.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + + <p>There is, again, thy proper tone!—<br> + That thou hast bored me, I must thankful be!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Poor Son of Earth, how couldst thou thus alone<br> + Have led thy life, bereft of me?<br> + I, for a time, at least, have worked thy cure;<br> + Thy fancy’s rickets plague thee not at all:<br> + Had I not been, so hadst thou, sure,<br> + Walked thyself off this earthly ball<br> + Why here to caverns, rocky hollows slinking,<br> + Sit’st thou, as ’twere an owl a-blinking?<br> + Why suck’st, from sodden moss and dripping stone,<br> + Toad-like, thy nourishment alone?<br> + A fine way, this, thy time to fill!<br> + The Doctor’s in thy body still.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What fresh and vital forces, canst thou guess,<br> + Spring from my commerce with the wilderness?<br> + But, if thou hadst the power of guessing,<br> + Thou wouldst be devil enough to grudge my soul the blessing.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>A blessing drawn from supernatural fountains!<br> + In night and dew to lie upon the mountains;<br> + All Heaven and Earth in rapture penetrating;<br> + Thyself to Godhood haughtily inflating;<br> + To grub with yearning force through Earth’s dark marrow,<br> + Compress the six days’ work within thy bosom narrow,—<br> + To taste, I know not what, in haughty power,<br> + Thine own ecstatic life on all things shower,<br> + Thine earthly self behind thee cast,<br> + And then the lofty instinct, thus—</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>(<i>With a gesture</i>:)</p> + </div> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>at last,—</p> + </div> +<p> I daren’t say how—to pluck the final flower!<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Shame on thee!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yes, thou findest that unpleasant!<br> + Thou hast the moral right to cry me “shame!” at present.<br> + One dares not that before chaste ears declare,<br> + Which chaste hearts, notwithstanding, cannot spare;<br> + And, once for all, I grudge thee not the pleasure<br> + Of lying to thyself in moderate measure.<br> + But such a course thou wilt not long endure;<br> + Already art thou o’er-excited,<br> + And, if it last, wilt soon be plighted<br> + To madness and to horror, sure.<br> + Enough of that! Thy love sits lonely yonder,<br> + By all things saddened and oppressed;<br> + Her thoughts and yearnings seek thee, tenderer, fonder,—<br> + mighty love is in her breast.<br> + First came thy passion’s flood and poured around her<br> + As when from melted snow a streamlet overflows;<br> + Thou hast therewith so filled and drowned her,<br> + That now <i>thy</i> stream all shallow shows.<br> + Methinks, instead of in the forests lording,<br> + The noble Sir should find it good,<br> + The love of this young silly blood<br> + At once to set about rewarding.<br> + Her time is miserably long;<br> + She haunts her window, watching clouds that stray<br> + O’er the old city-wall, and far away.<br> + “Were I a little bird!” so runs her song,<br> + Day long, and half night long.<br> + Now she is lively, mostly sad,<br> + Now, wept beyond her tears;<br> + Then again quiet she appears,—Always<br> + love-mad.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Serpent! Serpent!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES <i>(aside)</i></p> + <p>Ha! do I trap thee!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Get thee away with thine offences,<br> + Reprobate! Name not that fairest thing,<br> + Nor the desire for her sweet body bring<br> + Again before my half-distracted senses!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>What wouldst thou, then? She thinks that thou art flown;<br> + And half and half thou art, I own.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Yet am I near, and love keeps watch and ward;<br> + Though I were ne’er so far, it cannot falter:<br> + I envy even the Body of the Lord<br> + The touching of her lips, before the altar.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>’Tis very well! <i>My</i> envy oft reposes<br> + On your twin-pair, that feed among the roses.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Away, thou pimp!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>You rail, and it is fun to me.<br> + The God, who fashioned youth and maid,<br> + Perceived the noblest purpose of His trade,<br> + And also made their opportunity.<br> + Go on! It is a woe profound!<br> + ’Tis for your sweetheart’s room you’re bound,<br> + And not for death, indeed.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What are, within her arms, the heavenly blisses?<br> + Though I be glowing with her kisses,<br> + Do I not always share her need?<br> + I am the fugitive, all houseless roaming,<br> + The monster without air or rest,<br> + That like a cataract, down rocks and gorges foaming,<br> + Leaps, maddened, into the abyss’s breast!<br> + And side-wards she, with young unwakened senses,<br> + Within her cabin on the Alpine field<br> + Her simple, homely life commences,<br> + Her little world therein concealed.<br> + And I, God’s hate flung o’er me,<br> + Had not enough, to thrust<br> + The stubborn rocks before me<br> + And strike them into dust!<br> + She and her peace I yet must undermine:<br> + Thou, Hell, hast claimed this sacrifice as thine!<br> + Help, Devil! through the coming pangs to push me;<br> + What must be, let it quickly be!<br> + Let fall on me her fate, and also crush me,—<br> + One ruin whelm both her and me!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Again it seethes, again it glows!<br> + Thou fool, go in and comfort her!<br> + When such a head as thine no outlet knows,<br> + It thinks the end must soon occur.<br> + Hail him, who keeps a steadfast mind!<br> + Thou, else, dost well the devil-nature wear:<br> + Naught so insipid in the world I find<br> + As is a devil in despair.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-177.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-178.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XV"></a>XV</h2></div> + <p>MARGARET’S ROOM</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>(<i>at the spinning-wheel, alone</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">My peace is gone,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My heart is sore:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I never shall find it,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, nevermore!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Save I have him near.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The grave is here;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The world is gall</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And bitterness all.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My poor weak head</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Is racked and crazed;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My thought is lost,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My senses mazed.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My peace is gone,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My heart is sore:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I never shall find it,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, nevermore!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">To see him, him only,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">At the pane I sit;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">To meet him, him only,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The house I quit.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">His lofty gait,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">His noble size,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The smile of his mouth,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The power of his eyes,</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And the magic flow</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Of his talk, the bliss</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">In the clasp of his hand,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And, ah! his kiss!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My peace is gone,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My heart is sore:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I never shall find it,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, nevermore!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My bosom yearns</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">For him alone;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, dared I clasp him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And hold, and own!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And kiss his mouth,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">To heart’s desire,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And on his kisses</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">At last expire!</span><br> + </p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-180.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XVI"></a>XVI</h2></div> + <p>MARTHA’S GARDEN</p> + <p>MARGARET FAUST</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Promise me, Henry!—</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>What I can!</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>How is’t with thy religion, pray?<br> + Thou art a dear, good-hearted man,<br> + And yet, I think, dost not incline that way.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Leave that, my child! Thou know’st my love is tender;<br> + For love, my blood and life would I surrender,<br> + And as for Faith and Church, I grant to each his own.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>That’s not enough: we must believe thereon.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Must we?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>Would that I had some influence!</p> + </div> + <p>Then, too, thou honorest not the Holy Sacraments.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I honor them.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Desiring no possession<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>’Tis long since thou hast been to mass or to confession.<br> + Believest thou in God?<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>My darling, who shall dare<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>“I believe in God!” to say?<br> + Ask priest or sage the answer to declare,<br> + And it will seem a mocking play,<br> + A sarcasm on the asker.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Then thou believest not!</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Hear me not falsely, sweetest countenance!<br> + Who dare express Him?<br> + And who profess Him,<br> + Saying: I believe in Him!<br> + Who, feeling, seeing,<br> + Deny His being,<br> + Saying: I believe Him not!<br> + The All-enfolding,<br> + The All-upholding,<br> + Folds and upholds he not<br> + Thee, me, Himself?<br> + Arches not there the sky above us?<br> + Lies not beneath us, firm, the earth?<br> + And rise not, on us shining,<br> + Friendly, the everlasting stars?<br> + Look I not, eye to eye, on thee,<br> + And feel’st not, thronging<br> + To head and heart, the force,<br> + Still weaving its eternal secret,<br> + Invisible, visible, round thy life?<br> + Vast as it is, fill with that force thy heart,<br> + And when thou in the feeling wholly blessed art,<br> + Call it, then, what thou wilt,—<br> + Call it Bliss! Heart! Love! God!<br> + I have no name to give it!<br> + Feeling is all in all:<br> + The Name is sound and smoke,<br> + Obscuring Heaven’s clear glow.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>All that is fine and good, to hear it so:<br> + Much the same way the preacher spoke,<br> + Only with slightly different phrases.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The same thing, in all places,<br> + All hearts that beat beneath the heavenly day—<br> + Each in its language—say;<br> + Then why not I, in mine, as well?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>To hear it thus, it may seem passable;<br> + And yet, some hitch in’t there must be<br> + For thou hast no Christianity.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Dear love!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I’ve long been grieved to see<br> + That thou art in such company.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>How so?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>The man who with thee goes, thy mate,<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>Within my deepest, inmost soul I hate.<br> + In all my life there’s nothing<br> + Has given my heart so keen a pang of loathing,<br> + As his repulsive face has done.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Nay, fear him not, my sweetest one!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I feel his presence like something ill.<br> + I’ve else, for all, a kindly will,<br> + But, much as my heart to see thee yearneth,<br> + The secret horror of him returneth;<br> + And I think the man a knave, as I live!<br> + If I do him wrong, may God forgive!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>There must be such queer birds, however.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Live with the like of him, may I never!<br> + When once inside the door comes he,<br> + He looks around so sneeringly,<br> + And half in wrath:<br> + One sees that in nothing no interest he hath:<br> + ’Tis written on his very forehead<br> + That love, to him, is a thing abhorréd.<br> + I am so happy on thine arm,<br> + So free, so yielding, and so warm,<br> + And in his presence stifled seems my heart.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Foreboding angel that thou art!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>It overcomes me in such degree,<br> + That wheresoe’er he meets us, even,<br> + I feel as though I’d lost my love for thee.<br> + When he is by, I could not pray to Heaven.<br> + That burns within me like a flame,<br> + And surely, Henry, ’tis with thee the same.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>There, now, is thine antipathy!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>But I must go.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Ah, shall there never be<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>A quiet hour, to see us fondly plighted,<br> + With breast to breast, and soul to soul united?<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Ah, if I only slept alone!<br> + I’d draw the bolts to-night, for thy desire;<br> + But mother’s sleep so light has grown,<br> + And if we were discovered by her,<br> + ’Twould be my death upon the spot!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou angel, fear it not!<br> + Here is a phial: in her drink<br> + But three drops of it measure,<br> + And deepest sleep will on her senses sink.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>What would I not, to give thee pleasure?<br> + It will not harm her, when one tries it?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>If ’twould, my love, would I advise it?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Ah, dearest man, if but thy face I see,<br> + I know not what compels me to thy will:<br> + So much have I already done for thee,<br> + That scarcely more is left me to fulfil.</p> + <p>(<i>Enter</i> MEPHISTOPHELES.) [<i>Exit</i>.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The monkey! Is she gone?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Hast played the spy again?</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I’ve heard, most fully, how she drew thee.<br> + The Doctor has been catechised, ’tis plain;<br> + Great good, I hope, the thing will do thee.<br> + The girls have much desire to ascertain<br> + If one is prim and good, as ancient rules compel:<br> + If there he’s led, they think, he’ll follow them as well.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou, monster, wilt nor see nor own<br> + How this pure soul, of faith so lowly,<br> + So loving and ineffable,—<br> + The faith alone<br> + That her salvation is,—with scruples holy<br> + Pines, lest she hold as lost the man she loves so well!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Thou, full of sensual, super-sensual desire,<br> + A girl by the nose is leading thee.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Abortion, thou, of filth and fire!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And then, how masterly she reads physiognomy!<br> + When I am present she’s impressed, she knows not how;<br> + She in my mask a hidden sense would read:<br> + She feels that surely I’m a genius now,—<br> + Perhaps the very Devil, indeed!<br> + Well, well,—to-night—?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>What’s that to thee?</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yet my delight ’twill also be!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-186.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-187.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XVII"></a>XVII</h2></div> + <p>AT THE FOUNTAIN</p> + <p>MARGARET <i>and</i> LISBETH <i>With pitchers</i>.</p> + <p>LISBETH</p> + <p>Hast nothing heard of Barbara?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>No, not a word. I go so little out.</p> + <p>LISBETH</p> + <p>It’s true, Sibylla said, to-day.<br> + She’s played the fool at last, there’s not a doubt.<br> + Such taking-on of airs!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>How so?<br> + </p> + </div> + + <p>LISBETH</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>It stinks!<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>She’s feeding two, whene’er she eats and drinks.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Ah!</p> + <p>LISBETH</p> + <p> And so, at last, it serves her rightly.<br> + She clung to the fellow so long and tightly!<br> + That was a promenading!<br> + At village and dance parading!<br> + As the first they must everywhere shine,<br> + And he treated her always to pies and wine,<br> + And she made a to-do with her face so fine;<br> + So mean and shameless was her behavior,<br> + She took all the presents the fellow gave her.<br> + ’Twas kissing and coddling, on and on!<br> + So now, at the end, the flower is gone.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>The poor, poor thing!</p> + <p>LISBETH</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Dost pity her, at that?<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>When one of us at spinning sat,<br> + And mother, nights, ne’er let us out the door<br> + She sported with her paramour.<br> + On the door-bench, in the passage dark,<br> + The length of the time they’d never mark.<br> + So now her head no more she’ll lift,<br> + But do church-penance in her sinner’s shift!<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>He’ll surely take her for his wife.</p> + <p>LISBETH</p> + <p>He’d be a fool! A brisk young blade<br> + Has room, elsewhere, to ply his trade.<br> + Besides, he’s gone.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>That is not fair!<br> + </p> + </div> + + <p>LISBETH</p> + <p>If him she gets, why let her beware!<br> + The boys shall dash her wreath on the floor,<br> + And we’ll scatter chaff before her door!<br> + </p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>Exit</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET (<i>returning home</i>)</p> + <p>How scornfully I once reviled,<br> + When some poor maiden was beguiled!<br> + More speech than any tongue suffices<br> + I craved, to censure others’ vices.<br> + Black as it seemed, I blackened still,<br> + And blacker yet was in my will;<br> + And blessed myself, and boasted high,—<br> + And now—a living sin am I!<br> + Yet—all that drove my heart thereto,<br> + God! was so good, so dear, so true!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-189.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-190.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2></div> + <p>DONJON</p> + <p>(<i>In a niche of the wall a shrine, with an image of the Mater<br> + Dolorosa. Pots of flowers before it</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>(<i>putting fresh flowers in the pots</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Incline, O Maiden,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thou sorrow-laden,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thy gracious countenance upon my pain!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The sword Thy heart in,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">With anguish smarting,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thou lookest up to where Thy Son is + slain!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thou seest the Father;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thy sad sighs gather,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And bear aloft Thy sorrow and His pain!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, past guessing,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Beyond expressing,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The pangs that wring my flesh and bone!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Why this anxious heart so burneth,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Why it trembleth, why it yearneth,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Knowest Thou, and Thou alone!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Where’er I go, what sorrow,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">What woe, what woe and sorrow</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Within my bosom aches!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Alone, and ah! unsleeping,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I’m weeping, weeping, weeping,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The heart within me breaks.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The pots before my window,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Alas! my tears did wet,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">As in the early morning</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">For thee these flowers I set.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Within my lonely chamber</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The morning sun shone red:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I sat, in utter sorrow,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Already on my bed.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Help! rescue me from death and stain!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">O Maiden!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thou sorrow-laden,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Incline Thy countenance upon my pain!</span><br> + </p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-191.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-192.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XIX"></a>XIX</h2></div> + <p>NIGHT</p> + <p>STREET BEFORE MARGARET’S DOOR</p> + <p>VALENTINE (<i>a soldier</i>, MARGARET’S <i>brother</i>)</p> + <p>When I have sat at some carouse.<br> + Where each to each his brag allows,<br> + And many a comrade praised to me<br> + His pink of girls right lustily,<br> + With brimming glass that spilled the toast,<br> + And elbows planted as in boast:<br> + I sat in unconcerned repose,<br> + And heard the swagger as it rose.<br> + And stroking then my beard, I’d say,<br> + Smiling, the bumper in my hand:<br> + “Each well enough in her own way.<br> + But is there one in all the land<br> + Like sister Margaret, good as gold,—<br> + One that to her can a candle hold?”<br> + Cling! clang! “Here’s to her!” went around<br> + The board: “He speaks the truth!” cried some;<br> + “In her the flower o’ the sex is found!”<br> + And all the swaggerers were dumb.<br> + And now!—I could tear my hair with vexation.<br> + And dash out my brains in desperation!<br> + With turned-up nose each scamp may face me,<br> + With sneers and stinging taunts disgrace me,<br> + And, like a bankrupt debtor sitting,<br> + A chance-dropped word may set me sweating!<br> + Yet, though I thresh them all together,<br> + I cannot call them liars, either.</p> + <p>But what comes sneaking, there, to view?<br> + If I mistake not, there are two.<br> + If <i>he’s</i> one, let me at him drive!<br> + He shall not leave the spot alive.</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>How from the window of the sacristy<br> + Upward th’eternal lamp sends forth a glimmer,<br> + That, lessening side-wards, fainter grows and dimmer,<br> + Till darkness closes from the sky!<br> + The shadows thus within my bosom gather.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I’m like a sentimental tom-cat, rather,<br> + That round the tall fire-ladders sweeps,<br> + And stealthy, then, along the coping creeps:<br> + Quite virtuous, withal, I come,<br> + A little thievish and a little frolicsome.<br> + I feel in every limb the presage<br> + Forerunning the grand Walpurgis-Night:<br> + Day after to-morrow brings its message,<br> + And one keeps watch then with delight.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Meanwhile, may not the treasure risen be,<br> + Which there, behind, I glimmering see?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Shalt soon experience the pleasure,<br> + To lift the kettle with its treasure.<br> + I lately gave therein a squint—<br> + Saw splendid lion-dollars in ’t.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Not even a jewel, not a ring,<br> + To deck therewith my darling girl?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I saw, among the rest, a thing<br> + That seemed to be a chain of pearl.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>That’s well, indeed! For painful is it<br> + To bring no gift when her I visit.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Thou shouldst not find it so annoying,<br> + Without return to be enjoying.<br> + Now, while the sky leads forth its starry throng,<br> + Thou’lt hear a masterpiece, no work completer:<br> + I’ll sing her, first, a moral song,<br> + The surer, afterwards, to cheat her.</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>(<i>Sings to the cither</i>.)</p> + </div> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">What dost thou here</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">In daybreak clear,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Kathrina dear,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Before thy lover’s door?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Beware! the blade</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Lets in a maid.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">That out a maid</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Departeth nevermore!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The coaxing shun</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Of such an one!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">When once ’tis done</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Good-night to thee, poor thing!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Love’s time is brief:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Unto no thief</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Be warm and lief,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">But with the wedding-ring!</span><br> + </p> + <p>VALENTINE (<i>comes forward</i>)</p> + <p>Whom wilt thou lure? God’s-element!<br> + Rat-catching piper, thou!—perdition!<br> + To the Devil, first, the instrument!<br> + To the Devil, then, the curst musician!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The cither’s smashed! For nothing more ’tis fitting.</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>There’s yet a skull I must be splitting!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>Sir Doctor, don’t retreat, I pray!<br> + Stand by: I’ll lead, if you’ll but tarry:<br> + Out with your spit, without delay!<br> + You’ve but to lunge, and I will parry.</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>Then parry that!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Why not? ’tis light.</p> + </div> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>That, too!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Of course.</p> + </div> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>I think the Devil must fight!<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>How is it, then? my hand’s already lame:<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>Thrust home!</p> + <p>VALENTINE (<i>jails</i>)</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>O God!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Now is the lubber tame!<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>But come, away! ’Tis time for us to fly;<br> + For there arises now a murderous cry.<br> + With the police ’twere easy to compound it,<br> + But here the penal court will sift and sound it.<br> + <br></p> + + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>Exit with</i> FAUST.</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA (<i>at the window</i>)</p> + <p>Come out! Come out!</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>at the window</i>)</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Quick, bring a light!</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA (<i>as above</i>)</p> + <p>They swear and storm, they yell and fight!</p> + <p>PEOPLE</p> + <p>Here lies one dead already—see!</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>coming from the house</i>)</p> + <p>The murderers, whither have they run?</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>coming out</i>)</p> + <p>Who lies here?</p> + <p>PEOPLE</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>’Tis thy mother’s son!</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Almighty God! what misery!</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>I’m dying! That is quickly said,<br> + And quicker yet ’tis done.<br> + Why howl, you women there? Instead,<br> + Come here and listen, every one!</p> + <p>(<i>All gather around him</i>)</p> + <p>My Margaret, see! still young thou art,<br> + But not the least bit shrewd or smart,<br> + Thy business thus to slight:<br> + So this advice I bid thee heed—<br> + Now that thou art a whore indeed,<br> + Why, be one then, outright!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>My brother! God! such words to me?</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>In this game let our Lord God be!<br> + What’s done’s already done, alas!<br> + What follows it, must come to pass.<br> + With one begin’st thou secretly,<br> + Then soon will others come to thee,<br> + And when a dozen thee have known,<br> + Thou’rt also free to all the town.<br> + When Shame is born and first appears,<br> + She is in secret brought to light,<br> + And then they draw the veil of night<br> + Over her head and ears;<br> + Her life, in fact, they’re loath to spare her.<br> + But let her growth and strength display,<br> + She walks abroad unveiled by day,<br> + Yet is not grown a whit the fairer.<br> + The uglier she is to sight,<br> + The more she seeks the day’s broad light.<br> + The time I verily can discern<br> + When all the honest folk will turn<br> + From thee, thou jade! and seek protection<br> + As from a corpse that breeds infection.<br> + Thy guilty heart shall then dismay thee.<br> + When they but look thee in the face:—<br> + Shalt not in a golden chain array thee,<br> + Nor at the altar take thy place!<br> + Shalt not, in lace and ribbons flowing,<br> + Make merry when the dance is going!<br> + But in some corner, woe betide thee!<br> + Among the beggars and cripples hide thee;<br> + And so, though even God forgive,<br> + On earth a damned existence live!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Commend your soul to God for pardon,<br> + That you your heart with slander harden!</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>Thou pimp most infamous, be still!<br> + Could I thy withered body kill,<br> + ’Twould bring, for all my sinful pleasure,<br> + Forgiveness in the richest measure.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>My brother! This is Hell’s own pain!</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>I tell thee, from thy tears refrain!<br> + When thou from honor didst depart<br> + It stabbed me to the very heart.<br> + Now through the slumber of the grave<br> + I go to God as a soldier brave.</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>(<i>Dies</i>.)</p> + </div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-199.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-200.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XX"></a>XX</h2></div> + <p>CATHEDRAL</p> + <p>SERVICE, ORGAN <i>and</i> ANTHEM.</p> + <p>(MARGARET <i>among much people: the</i> EVIL SPIRIT <i>behind</i><br> + MARGARET.)</p> + <p>EVIL SPIRIT</p> + <p>HOW otherwise was it, Margaret,<br> + When thou, still innocent,<br> + Here to the altar cam’st,<br> + And from the worn and fingered book<br> + Thy prayers didst prattle,<br> + Half sport of childhood,<br> + Half God within thee!<br> + Margaret!<br> + Where tends thy thought?<br> + Within thy bosom<br> + What hidden crime?<br> + Pray’st thou for mercy on thy mother’s soul,<br> + That fell asleep to long, long torment, and through thee?<br> + Upon thy threshold whose the blood?<br> + And stirreth not and quickens<br> + Something beneath thy heart,<br> + Thy life disquieting<br> + With most foreboding presence?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Woe! woe!<br> + Would I were free from the thoughts<br> + That cross me, drawing hither and thither<br> + Despite me!</p> + <p>CHORUS</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p><i>Diesira, dies illa,</i><br> + Solvet soeclum in favilla!<br> + <i>(Sound of the organ</i>.)<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>EVIL SPIRIT</p> + <p>Wrath takes thee!<br> + The trumpet peals!<br> + The graves tremble!<br> + And thy heart<br> + From ashy rest<br> + To fiery torments<br> + Now again requickened,<br> + Throbs to life!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Would I were forth!<br> + I feel as if the organ here<br> + My breath takes from me,<br> + My very heart<br> + Dissolved by the anthem!</p> + <p>CHORUS</p> + <div class="indented"> + <i>Judex ergo cum sedebit,</i><br> + Quidquid latet, ad parebit,<br> + Nil inultum remanebit.<br> + <br> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I cannot breathe!<br> + The massy pillars<br> + Imprison me!<br> + The vaulted arches<br> + Crush me!—Air!</p> + <p>EVIL SPIRIT</p> + <p>Hide thyself! Sin and shame<br> + Stay never hidden.<br> + Air? Light?<br> + Woe to thee!</p> + <p>CHORUS</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p><i>Quid sum miser tunc dicturus,</i><br> + Quem patronem rogaturus,<br> + Cum vix Justus sit securus<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>EVIL SPIRIT</p> + <p>They turn their faces,<br> + The glorified, from thee:<br> + The pure, their hands to offer,<br> + Shuddering, refuse thee!<br> + Woe!</p> + <p>CHORUS</p> + <p><i>Quid sum miser tune dicturus</i>?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Neighbor! your cordial! (<i>She falls in + a swoon</i>.)</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-202.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-203.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XXI"></a>XXI</h2></div> + <p>WALPURGIS-NIGHT</p> + <p>THE HARTZ MOUNTAINS.</p> + <p><i>District of Schierke and Elend</i>.</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>DOST thou not wish a broomstick-steed’s assistance?<br> + The sturdiest he-goat I would gladly see:<br> + The way we take, our goal is yet some distance.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>So long as in my legs I feel the fresh existence.<br> + This knotted staff suffices me.<br> + What need to shorten so the way?<br> + Along this labyrinth of vales to wander,<br> + Then climb the rocky ramparts yonder,<br> + Wherefrom the fountain flings eternal spray,<br> + Is such delight, my steps would fain delay.<br> + The spring-time stirs within the fragrant birches,<br> + And even the fir-tree feels it now:<br> + Should then our limbs escape its gentle searches?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I notice no such thing, I vow!<br> + ’Tis winter still within my body:<br> + Upon my path I wish for frost and snow.<br> + How sadly rises, incomplete and ruddy,<br> + The moon’s lone disk, with its belated glow,<br> + And lights so dimly, that, as one advances,<br> + At every step one strikes a rock or tree!<br> + Let us, then, use a Jack-o’-lantern’s glances:<br> + I see one yonder, burning merrily.<br> + Ho, there! my friend! I’ll levy thine attendance:<br> + Why waste so vainly thy resplendence?<br> + Be kind enough to light us up the steep!</p> + <p>WILL-O’-THE-WISP</p> + <p>My reverence, I hope, will me enable<br> + To curb my temperament unstable;<br> + For zigzag courses we are wont to keep.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Indeed? he’d like mankind to imitate!<br> + Now, in the Devil’s name, go straight,<br> + Or I’ll blow out his being’s flickering spark!</p> + <p>WILL-O’-THE-WISP</p> + <p>You are the master of the house, I mark,<br> + And I shall try to serve you nicely.<br> + But then, reflect: the mountain’s magic-mad to-day,<br> + And if a will-o’-the-wisp must guide you on the way,<br> + You mustn’t take things too precisely.</p> + <p>FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, WILL-O’-THE-WISP</p> + <p>(<i>in alternating song</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We, it seems, have entered newly</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In the sphere of dreams enchanted.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Do thy bidding, guide us truly,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">That our feet be forwards planted</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In the vast, the desert spaces!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">See them swiftly changing places,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Trees on trees beside us trooping,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the crags above us stooping,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the rocky snouts, + outgrowing,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Hear them snoring, hear them blowing!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">O’er the stones, the grasses, flowing</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Stream and streamlet seek the hollow.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Hear I noises? songs that follow?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Hear I tender love-petitions?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Voices of those heavenly visions?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Sounds of hope, of love undying!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the echoes, like traditions</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Of old days, come faint and hollow.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Hoo-hoo! Shoo-hoo! Nearer hover</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Jay and screech-owl, and the + plover,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Are they all awake and crying?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Is’t the salamander pushes,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bloated-bellied, through the bushes?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the roots, like serpents twisted,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Through the sand and boulders + toiling,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Fright us, weirdest links uncoiling</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To entrap us, unresisted:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Living knots and gnarls uncanny</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Feel with polypus-antennae</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">For the wanderer. Mice are flying,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Thousand-colored, herd-wise hieing</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Through the moss and through the + heather!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the fire-flies wink and darkle,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Crowded swarms that soar and sparkle,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And in wildering escort gather!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Tell me, if we still are standing,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Or if further we’re ascending?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">All is turning, whirling, blending,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Trees and rocks with grinning faces,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Wandering lights that spin in mazes,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Still increasing and expanding!</span><br> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Grasp my skirt with heart undaunted!<br> + Here a middle-peak is planted,<br> + Whence one seeth, with amaze,<br> + Mammon in the mountain blaze.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>How strangely glimmers through the hollows<br> + A dreary light, like that of dawn!<br> + Its exhalation tracks and follows<br> + The deepest gorges, faint and wan.<br> + Here steam, there rolling vapor sweepeth;<br> + Here burns the glow through film and haze:<br> + Now like a tender thread it creepeth,<br> + Now like a fountain leaps and plays.<br> + Here winds away, and in a hundred<br> + Divided veins the valley braids:<br> + There, in a corner pressed and sundered,<br> + Itself detaches, spreads and fades.<br> + Here gush the sparkles incandescent<br> + Like scattered showers of golden sand;—<br> + But, see! in all their height, at present,<br> + The rocky ramparts blazing stand.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-207.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +<p class="caption"><i>Under the old ribs of the rock retreating</i></p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Has not Sir Mammon grandly lighted<br> + His palace for this festal night?<br> + ’Tis lucky thou hast seen the sight;<br> + The boisterous guests approach that were invited.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>How raves the tempest through the air!<br> + With what fierce blows upon my neck ’tis beating!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Under the old ribs of the rock retreating,<br> + Hold fast, lest thou be hurled down the abysses there!<br> + The night with the mist is black;<br> + Hark! how the forests grind and crack!<br> + Frightened, the owlets are scattered:<br> + Hearken! the pillars are shattered.<br> + The evergreen palaces shaking!<br> + Boughs are groaning and breaking,<br> + The tree-trunks terribly thunder,<br> + The roots are twisting asunder!<br> + In frightfully intricate crashing<br> + Each on the other is dashing,<br> + And over the wreck-strewn gorges<br> + The tempest whistles and surges!<br> + Hear’st thou voices higher ringing?<br> + Far away, or nearer singing?<br> + Yes, the mountain’s side along,<br> + Sweeps an infuriate glamouring song!</p> + <p>WITCHES (<i>in chorus</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The witches ride to the Brocken’s + top,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The stubble is yellow, and green the + crop.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">There gathers the crowd for carnival:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Sir Urian sits over all.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And so they go over stone and stock;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The witch she——-s, and——-s + the buck.</span><br> + <br> + A VOICE<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Alone, old Baubo’s coming now;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">She rides upon a farrow-sow.</span><br> + <br> + CHORUS<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Then honor to whom the honor is due!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Dame Baubo first, to lead the crew!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A tough old sow and the mother + thereon,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Then follow the witches, every one.</span><br> + </p> + <p>A VOICE</p> + <p>Which way com’st thou hither?</p> + <p>VOICE</p> + <p>O’er the Ilsen-stone.<br> + I peeped at the owl in her nest alone:<br> + How she stared and glared!</p> + <p>VOICE</p> + <p>Betake thee to Hell!<br> + Why so fast and so fell?</p> + <p>VOICE</p> + <p>She has scored and has flayed me:<br> + See the wounds she has made me!</p> + <p>WITCHES (<i>chorus</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The way is wide, the way is long:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">See, what a wild and crazy throng!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The broom it scratches, the fork it + thrusts,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The child is stifled, the mother + bursts.</span><br> + </p> + <p>WIZARDS (<i>semichorus</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As doth the snail in shell, we + crawl:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Before us go the women all.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">When towards the Devil’s House we + tread,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Woman’s a thousand steps ahead.</span><br> + <br> + OTHER SEMICHORUS<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We do not measure with such care:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Woman in thousand steps is theft.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">But howsoe’er she hasten may,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Man in one leap has cleared the way.</span><br> + </p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from above</i>)</p> + <p>Come on, come on, from Rocky Lake!</p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from below</i>)</p> + <p>Aloft we’d fain ourselves betake.<br> + We’ve washed, and are bright as ever you will,<br> + Yet we’re eternally sterile still.</p> + <p>BOTH CHORUSES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The wind is hushed, the star shoots + by.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The dreary moon forsakes the sky;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The magic notes, like spark on spark,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Drizzle, whistling through the dark.</span><br> + </p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from below</i>)</p> + <p>Halt, there! Ho, there!</p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from above</i>)</p> + <p>Who calls from the rocky cleft below there?</p> + <p>VOICE (<i>below</i>)</p> + <p>Take me, too! take me, too!<br> + I’m climbing now three hundred years,<br> + And yet the summit cannot see:<br> + Among my equals I would be.</p> + <p>BOTH CHORUSES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bears the broom and bears the + stock,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bears the fork and bears the buck:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Who cannot raise himself to-night</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Is evermore a ruined wight.</span><br> + </p> + <p>HALF-WITCH (<i>below</i>)</p> + <p>So long I stumble, ill bestead,<br> + And the others are now so far ahead!<br> + At home I’ve neither rest nor cheer,<br> + And yet I cannot gain them here.</p> + <p>CHORUS OF WITCHES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To cheer the witch will salve + avail;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A rag will answer for a sail;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Each trough a goodly ship supplies;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He ne’er will fly, who now not flies.</span><br> + </p> + <p>BOTH CHORUSES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">When round the summit whirls our + flight,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Then lower, and on the ground alight;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And far and wide the heather press</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">With witchhood’s swarms of + wantonness!</span><br> + </p> + <p>(<i>They settle down</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>They crowd and push, they roar and clatter!<br> + They whirl and whistle, pull and chatter!<br> + They shine, and spirt, and stink, and burn!<br> + The true witch-element we learn.<br> + Keep close! or we are parted, in our turn,<br> + Where art thou?</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>in the distance</i>)</p> + <p>Here!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>What! whirled so far astray?<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>Then house-right I must use, and clear the way.<br> + Make room! Squire Voland comes! Room, gentle rabble,<br> + room!<br> + <br></p> + + <p>Here, Doctor, hold to me: in one jump we’ll resume<br> + An easier space, and from the crowd be free:<br> + It’s too much, even for the like of me.<br> + Yonder, with special light, there’s something shining clearer<br> + Within those bushes; I’ve a mind to see.<br> + Come on! we’ll slip a little nearer.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Spirit of Contradiction! On! I’ll follow straight.<br> + ’Tis planned most wisely, if I judge aright:<br> + We climb the Brocken’s top in the Walpurgis-Night,<br> + That arbitrarily, here, ourselves we isolate.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But see, what motley flames among the heather!<br> + There is a lively club together:<br> + In smaller circles one is not alone.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Better the summit, I must own:<br> + There fire and whirling smoke I see.<br> + They seek the Evil One in wild confusion:<br> + Many enigmas there might find solution.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But there enigmas also knotted be.<br> + Leave to the multitude their riot!<br> + Here will we house ourselves in quiet.<br> + It is an old, transmitted trade,<br> + That in the greater world the little worlds are made.<br> + I see stark-nude young witches congregate,<br> + And old ones, veiled and hidden shrewdly:<br> + On my account be kind, nor treat them rudely!<br> + The trouble’s small, the fun is great.<br> + I hear the noise of instruments attuning,—<br> + Vile din! yet one must learn to bear the crooning.<br> + Come, come along! It <i>must</i> be, I declare!<br> + I’ll go ahead and introduce thee there,<br> + Thine obligation newly earning.<br> + That is no little space: what say’st thou, friend?<br> + Look yonder! thou canst scarcely see the end:<br> + A hundred fires along the ranks are burning.<br> + They dance, they chat, they cook, they drink, they court:<br> + Now where, just tell me, is there better sport?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Wilt thou, to introduce us to the revel,<br> + Assume the part of wizard or of devil?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I’m mostly used, ’tis true, to go incognito,<br> + But on a gala-day one may his orders show.<br> + The Garter does not deck my suit,<br> + But honored and at home is here the cloven foot.<br> + Perceiv’st thou yonder snail? It cometh, slow and steady;<br> + So delicately its feelers pry,<br> + That it hath scented me already:<br> + I cannot here disguise me, if I try.<br> + But come! we’ll go from this fire to a newer:<br> + I am the go-between, and thou the wooer.</p> + <p>(<i>To some, who are sitting around dying embers</i>:)</p> + <p>Old gentlemen, why at the outskirts? Enter!<br> + I’d praise you if I found you snugly in the centre,<br> + With youth and revel round you like a zone:<br> + You each, at home, are quite enough alone.</p> + <p>GENERAL</p> + <p>Say, who would put his trust in nations,<br> + Howe’er for them one may have worked and planned?<br> + For with the people, as with women,<br> + Youth always has the upper hand.</p> + <p>MINISTER</p> + <p>They’re now too far from what is just and sage.<br> + I praise the old ones, not unduly:<br> + When we were all-in-all, then, truly,<br> + <i>Then</i> was the real golden age.</p> + <p>PARVENU</p> + <p>We also were not stupid, either,<br> + And what we should not, often did;<br> + But now all things have from their bases slid,<br> + Just as we meant to hold them fast together.</p> + <p>AUTHOR</p> + <p>Who, now, a work of moderate sense will read?<br> + Such works are held as antiquate and mossy;<br> + And as regards the younger folk, indeed,<br> + They never yet have been so pert and saucy.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>(<i>who all at once appears very old</i>)</p> + <p>I feel that men are ripe for Judgment-Day,<br> + Now for the last time I’ve the witches’-hill ascended:<br> + Since to the lees <i>my</i> cask is drained away,<br> + The world’s, as well, must soon be ended.</p> + <p>HUCKSTER-WITCH</p> + <p>Ye gentlemen, don’t pass me thus!<br> + Let not the chance neglected be!<br> + Behold my wares attentively:<br> + The stock is rare and various.<br> + And yet, there’s nothing I’ve collected—<br> + No shop, on earth, like this you’ll find!—<br> + Which has not, once, sore hurt inflicted<br> + Upon the world, and on mankind.<br> + No dagger’s here, that set not blood to flowing;<br> + No cup, that hath not once, within a healthy frame<br> + Poured speedy death, in poison glowing:<br> + No gems, that have not brought a maid to shame;<br> + No sword, but severed ties for the unwary,<br> + Or from behind struck down the adversary.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Gossip! the times thou badly comprehendest:<br> + What’s done has happed—what haps, is done!<br> + ’Twere better if for novelties thou sendest:<br> + By such alone can we be won.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Let me not lose myself in all this pother!<br> + This is a fair, as never was another!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The whirlpool swirls to get above:<br> + Thou’rt shoved thyself, imagining to shove.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>But who is that?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Note her especially,<br> + Tis Lilith.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>Who?</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Adam’s first wife is she.<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>Beware the lure within her lovely tresses,<br> + The splendid sole adornment of her hair!<br> + When she succeeds therewith a youth to snare,<br> + Not soon again she frees him from her jesses.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Those two, the old one with the young one sitting,<br> + They’ve danced already more than fitting.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>No rest to-night for young or old!<br> + They start another dance: come now, let us take hold!</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>dancing with the young witch</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A lovely dream once came to me;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I then beheld an apple-tree,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And there two fairest apples shone:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">They lured me so, I climbed thereon.</span><br> + <br> + THE FAIR ONE<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Apples have been desired by you,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Since first in Paradise they grew;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And I am moved with joy, to know</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">That such within my garden grow.</span><br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>dancing with the old one</i>)<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A dissolute dream once came to me:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Therein I saw a cloven tree,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Which had + a————————;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Yet,——as ’twas, I fancied + it.</span><br> + </p> + <p>THE OLD ONE</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I offer here my best salute</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Unto the knight with cloven foot!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Let him + a—————prepare,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">If + him—————————does not + scare.</span><br> + </p> + <p>PROKTOPHANTASMIST</p> + <p>Accurséd folk! How dare you venture thus?<br> + Had you not, long since, demonstration<br> + That ghosts can’t stand on ordinary foundation?<br> + And now you even dance, like one of us!</p> + <p>THE FAIR ONE (<i>dancing</i>)</p> + <p>Why does he come, then, to our ball?</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>dancing</i>)</p> + <p>O, everywhere on him you fall!<br> + When others dance, he weighs the matter:<br> + If he can’t every step bechatter,<br> + Then ’tis the same as were the step not made;<br> + But if you forwards go, his ire is most displayed.<br> + If you would whirl in regular gyration<br> + As he does in his dull old mill,<br> + He’d show, at any rate, good-will,—<br> + Especially if you heard and heeded his hortation.</p> + <p>PROKTOPHANTASMIST</p> + <p>You still are here? Nay, ’tis a thing unheard!<br> + Vanish, at once! We’ve said the enlightening word.<br> + The pack of devils by no rules is daunted:<br> + We are so wise, and yet is Tegel haunted.<br> + To clear the folly out, how have I swept and stirred!<br> + Twill ne’er be clean: why, ’tis a thing unheard!</p> + <p>THE FAIR ONE</p> + <p>Then cease to bore us at our ball!</p> + <p>PROKTOPHANTASMIST</p> + <p>I tell you, spirits, to your face,<br> + I give to spirit-despotism no place;<br> + My spirit cannot practise it at all.</p> + <p>(<i>The dance continues</i>)</p> + <p>Naught will succeed, I see, amid such revels;<br> + Yet something from a tour I always save,<br> + And hope, before my last step to the grave,<br> + To overcome the poets and the devils.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>He now will seat him in the nearest puddle;<br> + The solace this, whereof he’s most assured:<br> + And when upon his rump the leeches hang and fuddle,<br> + He’ll be of spirits and of Spirit cured.</p> + <p>(<i>To</i> FAUST, <i>who has left the dance</i>:)</p> + <p>Wherefore forsakest thou the lovely maiden,<br> + That in the dance so sweetly sang?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Ah! in the midst of it there sprang<br> + A red mouse from her mouth—sufficient reason.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>That’s nothing! One must not so squeamish be;<br> + So the mouse was not gray, enough for thee.<br> + Who’d think of that in love’s selected season?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Then saw I—.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>What?</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Mephisto, seest thou there,<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>Alone and far, a girl most pale and fair?<br> + She falters on, her way scarce knowing,<br> + As if with fettered feet that stay her going.<br> + I must confess, it seems to me<br> + As if my kindly Margaret were she.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Let the thing be! All thence have evil drawn:<br> + It is a magic shape, a lifeless eidolon.<br> + Such to encounter is not good:<br> + Their blank, set stare benumbs the human blood,<br> + And one is almost turned to stone.<br> + Medusa’s tale to thee is known.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Forsooth, the eyes they are of one whom, dying,<br> + No hand with loving pressure closed;<br> + That is the breast whereon I once was lying,—<br> + The body sweet, beside which I reposed!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Tis magic all, thou fool, seduced so easily!<br> + Unto each man his love she seems to be.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The woe, the rapture, so ensnare me,<br> + That from her gaze I cannot tear me!<br> + And, strange! around her fairest throat<br> + A single scarlet band is gleaming,<br> + No broader than a knife-blade seeming!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Quite right! The mark I also note.<br> + Her head beneath her arm she’ll sometimes carry;<br> + Twas Perseus lopped it, her old adversary.<br> + Thou crav’st the same illusion still!<br> + Come, let us mount this little hill;<br> + The Prater shows no livelier stir,<br> + And, if they’ve not bewitched my sense,<br> + I verily see a theatre.<br> + What’s going on?</p> + <p>SERVIBILIS</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>’Twill shortly recommence:<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>A new performance—’tis the last of seven.<br> + To give that number is the custom here:<br> + ’Twas by a Dilettante written,<br> + And Dilettanti in the parts appear.<br> + That now I vanish, pardon, I entreat you!<br> + As Dilettante I the curtain raise.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>When I upon the Blocksberg meet you,<br> + I find it good: for that’s your proper place.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-221.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-222.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XXII"></a>XXII</h2></div> + <p>WALPURGIS-NIGHT’S DREAM</p> + <p>OBERON AND TITANIA’s GOLDEN WEDDING</p> + <p>INTERMEZZO</p> + <p>MANAGER</p> + <p>Sons of Mieding, rest to-day!<br> + Needless your machinery:<br> + Misty vale and mountain gray,<br> + That is all the scenery.</p> + <p>HERALD</p> + <p>That the wedding golden be.<br> + Must fifty years be rounded:<br> + But <i>the Golden</i> give to me,<br> + When the strife’s compounded.</p> + <p>OBERON</p> + <p>Spirits, if you’re here, be seen—<br> + Show yourselves, delighted!<br> + Fairy king and fairy queen,<br> + They are newly plighted.</p> + <p>PUCK</p> + <p>Cometh Puck, and, light of limb,<br> + Whisks and whirls in measure:<br> + Come a hundred after him,<br> + To share with him the pleasure.</p> + <p>ARIEL</p> + <p>Ariel’s song is heavenly-pure,<br> + His tones are sweet and rare ones:<br> + Though ugly faces he allure,<br> + Yet he allures the fair ones.</p> + <p>OBERON</p> + <p>Spouses, who would fain agree,<br> + Learn how we were mated!<br> + If your pairs would loving be,<br> + First be separated!</p> + <p>TITANIA</p> + <p>If her whims the wife control,<br> + And the man berate her,<br> + Take him to the Northern Pole,<br> + And her to the Equator!</p> + <p>ORCHESTRA. TUTTI.</p> + <p><i>Fortissimo</i>.</p> + <p>Snout of fly, mosquito-bill,<br> + And kin of all conditions,<br> + Frog in grass, and cricket-trill,—<br> + These are the musicians!</p> + <p>SOLO</p> + <p>See the bagpipe on our track!<br> + ’Tis the soap-blown bubble:<br> + Hear the <i>schnecke-schnicke-schnack</i><br> + Through his nostrils double!</p> + <p>SPIRIT, JUST GROWING INTO FORM</p> + <p>Spider’s foot and paunch of toad,<br> + And little wings—we know ’em!<br> + A little creature ’twill not be,<br> + But yet, a little poem.</p> + <p>A LITTLE COUPLE</p> + <p>Little step and lofty leap<br> + Through honey-dew and fragrance:<br> + You’ll never mount the airy steep<br> + With all your tripping vagrance.</p> + <p>INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER</p> + <p>Is’t but masquerading play?<br> + See I with precision?<br> + Oberon, the beauteous fay,<br> + Meets, to-night, my vision!</p> + <p>ORTHODOX</p> + <p>Not a claw, no tail I see!<br> + And yet, beyond a cavil,<br> + Like “the Gods of Greece,” must he<br> + Also be a devil.</p> + <p>NORTHERN ARTIST</p> + <p>I only seize, with sketchy air,<br> + Some outlines of the tourney;<br> + Yet I betimes myself prepare<br> + For my Italian journey.</p> + <p>PURIST</p> + <p>My bad luck brings me here, alas!<br> + How roars the orgy louder!<br> + And of the witches in the mass,<br> + But only two wear powder.</p> + <p>YOUNG WITCH</p> + <p>Powder becomes, like petticoat,<br> + A gray and wrinkled noddy;<br> + So I sit naked on my goat,<br> + And show a strapping body.</p> + <p>MATRON</p> + <p>We’ve too much tact and policy<br> + To rate with gibes a scolder;<br> + Yet, young and tender though you be,<br> + I hope to see you moulder.</p> + <p>LEADER OF THE BAND</p> + <p>Fly-snout and mosquito-bill,<br> + Don’t swarm so round the Naked!<br> + Frog in grass and cricket-trill,<br> + Observe the time, and make it!</p> + <p>WEATHERCOCK (<i>towards one side</i>)</p> + <p>Society to one’s desire!<br> + Brides only, and the sweetest!<br> + And bachelors of youth and fire.<br> + And prospects the completest!</p> + <p>WEATHERCOCK (<i>towards the other side</i>)</p> + <p>And if the Earth don’t open now<br> + To swallow up each ranter,<br> + Why, then will I myself, I vow,<br> + Jump into hell instanter!</p> + <p>XENIES</p> + <p>Us as little insects see!<br> + With sharpest nippers flitting,<br> + That our Papa Satan we<br> + May honor as is fitting.</p> + <p>HENNINGS</p> + <p>How, in crowds together massed,<br> + They are jesting, shameless!<br> + They will even say, at last,<br> + That their hearts are blameless.</p> + <p>MUSAGETES</p> + <p>Among this witches’ revelry<br> + His way one gladly loses;<br> + And, truly, it would easier be<br> + Than to command the Muses.</p> + <p>CI-DEVANT GENIUS OF THE AGE</p> + <p>The proper folks one’s talents laud:<br> + Come on, and none shall pass us!<br> + The Blocksberg has a summit broad,<br> + Like Germany’s Parnassus.</p> + <p>INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER</p> + <p>Say, who’s the stiff and pompous man?<br> + He walks with haughty paces:<br> + He snuffles all he snuffle can:<br> + “He scents the Jesuits’ traces.”</p> + <p>CRANE</p> + <p>Both clear and muddy streams, for me<br> + Are good to fish and sport in:<br> + And thus the pious man you see<br> + With even devils consorting.</p> + <p>WORLDLING</p> + <p>Yes, for the pious, I suspect,<br> + All instruments are fitting;<br> + And on the Blocksberg they erect<br> + Full many a place of meeting.</p> + <p>DANCER</p> + <p>A newer chorus now succeeds!<br> + I hear the distant drumming.<br> + “Don’t be disturbed! ’tis, in the reeds,<br> + The bittern’s changeless booming.”</p> + <p>DANCING-MASTER</p> + <p>How each his legs in nimble trip<br> + Lifts up, and makes a clearance!<br> + The crooked jump, the heavy skip,<br> + Nor care for the appearance.</p> + <p>GOOD FELLOW</p> + <p>The rabble by such hate are held,<br> + To maim and slay delights them:<br> + As Orpheus’ lyre the brutes compelled,<br> + The bagpipe here unites them.</p> + <p>DOGMATIST</p> + <p>I’ll not be led by any lure<br> + Of doubts or critic-cavils:<br> + The Devil must be something, sure,—<br> + Or how should there be devils?</p> + <p>IDEALIST</p> + <p>This once, the fancy wrought in me<br> + Is really too despotic:<br> + Forsooth, if I am all I see,<br> + I must be idiotic!</p> + <p>REALIST</p> + <p>This racking fuss on every hand,<br> + It gives me great vexation;<br> + And, for the first time, here I stand<br> + On insecure foundation.</p> + <p>SUPERNATURALIST</p> + <p>With much delight I see the play,<br> + And grant to these their merits,<br> + Since from the devils I also may<br> + Infer the better spirits.</p> + <p>SCEPTIC</p> + <p>The flame they follow, on and on,<br> + And think they’re near the treasure:<br> + But <i>Devil</i> rhymes with <i>Doubt</i> alone,<br> + So I am here with pleasure.</p> + <p>LEADER OF THE BAND</p> + <p>Frog in green, and cricket-trill.<br> + Such dilettants!—perdition!<br> + Fly-snout and mosquito-bill,—<br> + Each one’s a fine musician!</p> + <p>THE ADROIT</p> + <p><i>Sans souci</i>, we call the clan<br> + Of merry creatures so, then;<br> + Go a-foot no more we can,<br> + And on our heads we go, then.</p> + <p>THE AWKWARD</p> + <p>Once many a bit we sponged, but now,<br> + God help us! that is done with:<br> + Our shoes are all danced out, we trow,<br> + We’ve but naked soles to run with.</p> + <p>WILL-O’-THE WISPS</p> + <p>From the marshes we appear,<br> + Where we originated;<br> + Yet in the ranks, at once, we’re here<br> + As glittering gallants rated.</p> + <p>SHOOTING-STAR</p> + <p>Darting hither from the sky,<br> + In star and fire light shooting,<br> + Cross-wise now in grass I lie:<br> + Who’ll help me to my footing?</p> + <p>THE HEAVY FELLOWS</p> + <p>Room! and round about us, room!<br> + Trodden are the grasses:<br> + Spirits also, spirits come,<br> + And they are bulky masses.</p> + <p>PUCK</p> + <p>Enter not so stall-fed quite,<br> + Like elephant-calves about one!<br> + And the heaviest weight to-night<br> + Be Puck, himself, the stout one!</p> + <p>ARIEL</p> + <p>If loving Nature at your back,<br> + Or Mind, the wings uncloses,<br> + Follow up my airy track<br> + To the mount of roses!</p> + <p>ORCHESTRA</p> + <p><i>pianissimo</i><br> + Cloud and trailing mist o’erhead<br> + Are now illuminated:<br> + Air in leaves, and wind in reed,<br> + And all is dissipated.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-230.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XXIII"></a>XXIII</h2></div> + <p>DREARY DAY</p> + <p>A FIELD</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>In misery! In despair! Long wretchedly astray on the face<br> + of the earth, and now imprisoned! That gracious, ill-starred<br> + creature shut in a dungeon as a criminal, and given<br> + up to fearful torments! To this has it come! to this!—Treacherous,<br> + contemptible spirit, and thou hast concealed it from<br> + me!—Stand, then,—stand! Roll the devilish eyes wrathfully in<br> + thy head! Stand and defy me with thine intolerable presence!<br> + Imprisoned! In irretrievable misery! Delivered up to evil<br> + spirits, and to condemning, unfeeling Man! And thou hast<br> + lulled me, meanwhile, with the most insipid dissipations, hast<br> + concealed from me her increasing wretchedness, and suffered<br> + her to go helplessly to ruin!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-231.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +<p class="caption">Roll the devilish eyes wrathfully in thy head</p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>She is not the first.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Dog! Abominable monster! Transform him, thou Infinite<br> + Spirit! transform the reptile again into his dog-shape? in which<br> + it pleased him often at night to scamper on before me, to roll<br> + himself at the feet of the unsuspecting wanderer, and hang<br> + upon his shoulders when he fell! Transform him again into<br> + his favorite likeness, that he may crawl upon his belly in the<br> + dust before me,—that I may trample him, the outlawed, under<br> + foot! Not the first! O woe! woe which no human soul can<br> + grasp, that more than one being should sink into the depths<br> + of this misery,—that the first, in its writhing death-agony<br> + under the eyes of the Eternal Forgiver, did not expiate the<br> + guilt of all others! The misery of this single one pierces to the<br> + very marrow of my life; and thou art calmly grinning at the<br> + fate of thousands!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Now we are already again at the end of our wits, where the<br> + understanding of you men runs wild. Why didst thou enter<br> + into fellowship with us, if thou canst not carry it out? Wilt fly,<br> + and art not secure against dizziness? Did we thrust ourselves<br> + upon thee, or thou thyself upon us?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Gnash not thus thy devouring teeth at me? It fills me with<br> + horrible disgust. Mighty, glorious Spirit, who hast vouchsafed<br> + to me Thine apparition, who knowest my heart and my soul,<br> + why fetter me to the felon-comrade, who feeds on mischief and<br> + gluts himself with ruin?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Hast thou done?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Rescue her, or woe to thee! The fearfullest curse be upon<br> + thee for thousands of ages!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I cannot loosen the bonds of the Avenger, nor undo his bolts.<br> + Rescue her? Who was it that plunged her into ruin? I, or thou?</p> + <p>(FAUST <i>looks around wildly</i>.)</p> + <p>Wilt thou grasp the thunder? Well that it has not been<br> + given to you, miserable mortals! To crush to pieces the innocent<br> + respondent—that is the tyrant-fashion of relieving one’s<br> + self in embarrassments.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Take me thither! She shall be free!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And the danger to which thou wilt expose thyself? Know<br> + that the guilt of blood, from thy hand, still lies upon the town!<br> + Avenging spirits hover over the spot where the victim fell, and<br> + lie in wait for the returning murderer.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>That, too, from thee? Murder and death of a world upon<br> + thee, monster! Take me thither, I say, and liberate her!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I will convey thee there; and hear, what I can do! Have I<br> + all the power in Heaven and on Earth? I will becloud the<br> + jailer’s senses: get possession of the key, and lead her forth with<br> + human hand! I will keep watch: the magic steeds are ready,<br> + I will carry you off. So much is in my power.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Up and away!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-235.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XXIV"></a>XXIV</h2></div> + <p>NIGHT</p> + <p>OPEN FIELD</p> + <p>(FAUST <i>and</i> MEPHISTOPHELES <i>speeding onward on black horses</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What weave they there round the raven-stone?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I know not what they are brewing and doing.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Soaring up, sweeping down, bowing and bending!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>A witches’-guild.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>They scatter, devote and doom!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>On! on!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-236.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XXV"></a>XXV</h2></div> + <p>DUNGEON</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>(<i>with a bunch of keys and a lamp, before an iron door</i>)</p> + <p>A shudder, long unfelt, comes o’er me;<br> + Mankind’s collected woe o’erwhelms me, here.<br> + She dwells within the dark, damp walls before me,<br> + And all her crime was a delusion dear!<br> + What! I delay to free her?<br> + I dread, once again to see her?<br> + On! my shrinking but lingers Death more near.</p> + <p>(<i>He grasps the lock: the sound of singing is heard inside</i>.)</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p><i>My mother, the harlot,</i><br> + Who put me to death;<br> + My father, the varlet,<br> + Who eaten me hath!<br> + Little sister, so good,<br> + Laid my bones in the wood,<br> + In the damp moss and clay:<br> + <i>Then was I a beautiful bird o’ the wood;</i><br> + Fly away! Fly away!<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>FAUST <i>(unlocking)</i></p> + <p>She does not dream her lover listens near;<br> + That he the rattling chain, the rustling straw, can hear.</p> + <p><i>(He enters</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>hiding herself on the pallet</i>)<br> + Woe! woe! They come. O death of bitterness!</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>whispering</i>)<br> + Hush! hush! The hour is come that frees thee.</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>throwing herself before him</i>)<br> + Art thou a man, then pity my distress!</p> + <p>FAUST<br> + Thy cries will wake the guards, and they will seize thee!<br> + (<i>He takes hold of the fetters to unlock them</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>on her knees</i>)</p> + <p>Who, headsman! unto thee such power<br> + Over me could give?<br> + Thou’rt come for me at midnight-hour:<br> + Have mercy on me, let me live!<br> + Is’t not soon enough when morning chime has run?</p> + <p>(<i>She rises</i>.)</p> + <p>And I am yet so young, so young!<br> + And now Death comes, and ruin!<br> + I, too, was fair, and that was my undoing.<br> + My love was near, but now he’s far;<br> + Torn lies the wreath, scattered the blossoms are.<br> + Seize me not thus so violently!<br> + Spare me! What have I done to thee?<br> + Let me not vainly entreat thee!<br> + I never chanced, in all my days, to meet thee!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Shall I outlive this misery?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Now am I wholly in thy might.<br> + But let me suckle, first, my baby!<br> + I blissed it all this livelong night;<br> + They took ’t away, to vex me, maybe,<br> + And now they say I killed the child outright.<br> + And never shall I be glad again.<br> + They sing songs about me! ’tis bad of the folk to do it!<br> + There’s an old story has the same refrain;<br> + Who bade them so construe it?</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>falling upon his knees</i>)</p> + <p>Here lieth one who loves thee ever,<br> + The thraldom of thy woe to sever.</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>flinging herself beside him</i>)</p> + <p>O let us kneel, and call the Saints to hide us!<br> + Under the steps beside us,<br> + The threshold under,<br> + Hell heaves in thunder!<br> + The Evil One<br> + With terrible wrath<br> + Seeketh a path<br> + His prey to discover!</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>aloud</i>)</p> + <p>Margaret! Margaret!</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>attentively listening</i>)</p> + <p>That was the voice of my lover!</p> + <p>(<i>She springs to her feet: the fetters fall off</i>.)</p> + <p>Where is he? I heard him call me.<br> + I am free! No one shall enthrall me.<br> + To his neck will I fly,<br> + On his bosom lie!<br> + On the threshold he stood, and <i>Margaret</i>! calling,<br> + Midst of Hell’s howling and noises appalling,<br> + Midst of the wrathful, infernal derision,<br> + I knew the sweet sound of the voice of the vision!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>’Tis I!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>’Tis thou! O, say it once again!</p> + <p>(<i>Clasping him</i>.)</p> + <p>’Tis he! ’tis he! Where now is all my pain?<br> + The anguish of the dungeon, and the chain?<br> + ’Tis thou! Thou comest to save me,<br> + And I am saved!—<br> + Again the street I see<br> + Where first I looked on thee;<br> + And the garden, brightly blooming,<br> + Where I and Martha wait thy coming.</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>struggling to leave</i>)</p> + <p>Come! Come with me!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Delay, now!<br> + So fain I stay, when thou delayest!</p> + <p>(<i>Caressing him</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Away, now!<br> + If longer here thou stayest,<br> + We shall be made to dearly rue it.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Kiss me!—canst no longer do it?<br> + My friend, so short a time thou’rt missing,<br> + And hast unlearned thy kissing?<br> + Why is my heart so anxious, on thy breast?<br> + Where once a heaven thy glances did create me,<br> + A heaven thy loving words expressed,<br> + And thou didst kiss, as thou wouldst suffocate me—<br> + Kiss me!<br> + Or I’ll kiss thee!</p> + <p>(<i>She embraces him</i>.)</p> + <p>Ah, woe! thy lips are chill,<br> + And still.<br> + How changed in fashion<br> + Thy passion!<br> + Who has done me this ill?</p> + <p>(<i>She turns away from him</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Come, follow me! My darling, be more bold:<br> + I’ll clasp thee, soon, with warmth a thousand-fold;<br> + But follow now! ’Tis all I beg of thee.</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>turning to him</i>)</p> + <p>And is it thou? Thou, surely, certainly?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>’Tis I! Come on!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Thou wilt unloose my chain,<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>And in thy lap wilt take me once again.<br> + How comes it that thou dost not shrink from me?—<br> + Say, dost thou know, my friend, whom thou mak’st free?<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Come! come! The night already vanisheth.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>My mother have I put to death;<br> + I’ve drowned the baby born to thee.<br> + Was it not given to thee and me?<br> + Thee, too!—’Tis thou! It scarcely true doth seem—<br> + Give me thy hand! ’Tis not a dream!<br> + Thy dear, dear hand!—But, ah, ’tis wet!<br> + Why, wipe it off! Methinks that yet<br> + There’s blood thereon.<br> + Ah, God! what hast thou done?<br> + Nay, sheathe thy sword at last!<br> + Do not affray me!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>O, let the past be past!<br> + Thy words will slay me!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>No, no! Thou must outlive us.<br> + Now I’ll tell thee the graves to give us:<br> + Thou must begin to-morrow<br> + The work of sorrow!<br> + The best place give to my mother,<br> + Then close at her side my brother,<br> + And me a little away,<br> + But not too very far, I pray!<br> + And here, on my right breast, my baby lay!<br> + Nobody else will lie beside me!—<br> + Ah, within thine arms to hide me,<br> + That was a sweet and a gracious bliss,<br> + But no more, no more can I attain it!<br> + I would force myself on thee and constrain it,<br> + And it seems thou repellest my kiss:<br> + And yet ’tis thou, so good, so kind to see!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>If thou feel’st it is I, then come with me!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Out yonder?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>To freedom.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>If the grave is there,<br> + Death lying in wait, then come!<br> + From here to eternal rest:<br> + No further step—no, no!<br> + Thou goest away! O Henry, if I could go!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou canst! Just will it! Open stands the door.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I dare not go: there’s no hope any more.<br> + Why should I fly? They’ll still my steps waylay!<br> + It is so wretched, forced to beg my living,<br> + And a bad conscience sharper misery giving!<br> + It is so wretched, to be strange, forsaken,<br> + And I’d still be followed and taken!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I’ll stay with thee.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Be quick! Be quick!<br> + Save thy perishing child!<br> + Away! Follow the ridge<br> + Up by the brook,</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-243.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +<p class="caption">If the grave is there, Death lying in wait, then come!</p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <p>Over the bridge,<br> + Into the wood,<br> + To the left, where the plank is placed<br> + In the pool!<br> + Seize it in haste!<br> + ’Tis trying to rise,<br> + ’Tis struggling still!<br> + Save it! Save it!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Recall thy wandering will!<br> + One step, and thou art free at last!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>If the mountain we had only passed!<br> + There sits my mother upon a stone,—<br> + I feel an icy shiver!<br> + There sits my mother upon a stone,<br> + And her head is wagging ever.<br> + She beckons, she nods not, her heavy head falls o’er;<br> + She slept so long that she wakes no more.<br> + She slept, while we were caressing:<br> + Ah, those were the days of blessing!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Here words and prayers are nothing worth;<br> + I’ll venture, then, to bear thee forth.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>No—let me go! I’ll suffer no force!<br> + Grasp me not so murderously!<br> + I’ve done, else, all things for the love of thee.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The day dawns: Dearest! Dearest!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Day? Yes, the day comes,—the last day breaks for me!<br> + My wedding-day it was to be!<br> + Tell no one thou has been with Margaret!<br> + Woe for my garland! The chances<br> + Are over—’tis all in vain!<br> + We shall meet once again,<br> + But not at the dances!<br> + The crowd is thronging, no word is spoken:<br> + The square below<br> + And the streets overflow:<br> + The death-bell tolls, the wand is broken.<br> + I am seized, and bound, and delivered—<br> + Shoved to the block—they give the sign!<br> + Now over each neck has quivered<br> + The blade that is quivering over mine.<br> + Dumb lies the world like the grave!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>O had I ne’er been born!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>appears outside</i>)</p> + <p>Off! or you’re lost ere morn.<br> + Useless talking, delaying and praying!<br> + My horses are neighing:<br> + The morning twilight is near.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>What rises up from the threshold here?<br> + He! he! suffer him not!<br> + What does he want in this holy spot?<br> + He seeks me!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Thou shalt live.</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Judgment of God! myself to thee I give.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>Come! or I’ll leave her in the lurch, and thee!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Thine am I, Father! rescue me!<br> + Ye angels, holy cohorts, guard me,<br> + Camp around, and from evil ward me!<br> + Henry! I shudder to think of thee.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>She is judged!</p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from above</i>)</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>She is saved!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Hither to me!</p> + </div> + <p>(<i>He disappears with</i> FAUST.)</p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from within, dying away</i>)</p> + <p>Henry! Henry!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-247.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:25%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-248.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14591 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + + diff --git a/14591-h/images/Illus-001.jpg b/14591-h/images/Illus-001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..21bdeee --- /dev/null +++ b/14591-h/images/Illus-001.jpg diff --git a/14591-h/images/Illus-002.jpg b/14591-h/images/Illus-002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d600d36 --- /dev/null +++ b/14591-h/images/Illus-002.jpg diff --git a/14591-h/images/Illus-003.jpg b/14591-h/images/Illus-003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9cc6ed6 --- /dev/null +++ b/14591-h/images/Illus-003.jpg diff --git a/14591-h/images/Illus-004.jpg 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the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..183a0a7 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #14591 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14591) diff --git a/old/14591-0.txt b/old/14591-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..33ecc62 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14591-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9024 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14591 *** +[Illustration] +[Illustration] +[Illustration] +[Illustration] + + + + +FAUST + + +_by_ + +_Johann Wolfgang von Goethe_ + +WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY + +_Harry Clarke_ + +TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH, IN +THE ORIGINAL METRES, BY + +_Bayard Taylor_ + + +_An Illustrated Edition_ + +THE WORLD PUBLISHING COMPANY + +CLEVELAND, OHIO NEW YORK, N.Y. + + + + +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +CONTENTS + + +PREFACE +AN GOETHE +DEDICATION +PRELUDE AT THE THEATRE +PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN + +SCENE I. NIGHT (_Faust’s Monologue_) + II. BEFORE THE CITY-GATE + III. THE STUDY (_The Exorcism_) + IV. THE STUDY (_The Compact_) + V. AUERBACH’S CELLAR + VI. WITCHES’ KITCHEN + VII. A STREET + VIII. EVENING + IX. PROMENADE + X. THE NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE + XI. STREET + XII. GARDEN + XIII. A GARDEN-ARBOR + XIV. FOREST AND CAVERN + XV. MARGARET’S ROOM + XVI. MARTHA’S GARDEN + XVII. AT THE FOUNTAIN + XVIII. DONJON (_Margaret’s Prayer_) + XIX. NIGHT (_Valentine’s Death_) + XX. CATHEDRAL + XXI. WALPURGIS-NIGHT + XXII. OBERON AND TITANIA’S GOLDEN WEDDING + XXIII. DREARY DAY + XXIV. NIGHT + XXV. DUNGEON +[Illustration] + + + + +FAUST + + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration: Preface] + +It is twenty years since I first determined to attempt the translation +of _Faust_, in the original metres. At that time, although more than a +score of English translations of the First Part, and three or four of +the Second Part, were in existence, the experiment had not yet been +made. The prose version of Hayward seemed to have been accepted as the +standard, in default of anything more satisfactory: the English critics, +generally sustaining the translator in his views concerning the +secondary importance of form in Poetry, practically discouraged any +further attempt; and no one, familiar with rhythmical expression through +the needs of his own nature, had devoted the necessary love and patience +to an adequate reproduction of the great work of Goethe’s life. + +Mr. Brooks was the first to undertake the task, and the publication of +his translation of the First Part (in 1856) induced me, for a time, to +give up my own design. No previous English version exhibited such +abnegation of the translator’s own tastes and habits of thought, such +reverent desire to present the original in its purest form. The care and +conscience with which the work had been performed were so apparent, that +I now state with reluctance what then seemed to me to be its only +deficiencies,—a lack of the lyrical fire and fluency of the original in +some passages, and an occasional lowering of the tone through the use of +words which are literal, but not equivalent. The plan of translation +adopted by Mr. Brooks was so entirely my own, that when further +residence in Germany and a more careful study of both parts of _Faust_ +had satisfied me that the field was still open,—that the means +furnished by the poetical affinity of the two languages had not yet been +exhausted,—nothing remained for me but to follow him in all essential +particulars. His example confirmed me in the belief that there were few +difficulties in the way of a nearly literal yet thoroughly rhythmical +version of _Faust_, which might not be overcome by loving labor. A +comparison of seventeen English translations, in the arbitrary metres +adopted by the translators, sufficiently showed the danger of allowing +license in this respect: the white light of Goethe’s thought was thereby +passed through the tinted glass of other minds, and assumed the coloring +of each. Moreover, the plea of selecting different metres in the hope of +producing a similar effect is unreasonable, where the identical metres +are possible. + +The value of form, in a poetical work, is the first question to be +considered. No poet ever understood this question more thoroughly than +Goethe himself, or expressed a more positive opinion in regard to it. +The alternative modes of translation which he presents (reported by +Riemer, quoted by Mrs. Austin, in her “Characteristics of Goethe,” and +accepted by Mr. Hayward),[A] are quite independent of his views +concerning the value of form, which we find given elsewhere, in the +clearest and most emphatic manner.[B] Poetry is not simply a fashion of +expression: it is the form of expression absolutely required by a +certain class of ideas. Poetry, indeed, may be distinguished from Prose +by the single circumstance, that it is the utterance of whatever in man +cannot be perfectly uttered in any other than a rhythmical form: it is +useless to say that the naked meaning is independent of the form: on the +contrary, the form contributes essentially to the fullness of the +meaning. In Poetry which endures through its own inherent vitality, +there is no forced union of these two elements. They are as intimately +blended, and with the same mysterious beauty, as the sexes in the +ancient Hermaphroditus. To attempt to represent Poetry in Prose, is very +much like attempting to translate music into speech.[C] + +[A] “‘There are two maxims of translation,’ says he: ‘the one requires +that the author, of a foreign nation, be brought to us in such a manner +that we may regard him as our own; the other, on the contrary, demands +of us that we transport ourselves over to him, and adopt his situation, +his mode of speaking, and his peculiarities. The advantages of both are +sufficiently known to all instructed persons, from masterly examples.’” +Is it necessary, however, that there should always be this alternative? +Where the languages are kindred, and equally capable of all varieties of +metrical expression, may not both these “maxims” be observed in the same +translation? Goethe, it is true, was of the opinion that _Faust_ ought +to be given, in French, in the manner of Clement Marot; but this was +undoubtedly because he felt the inadequacy of modern French to express +the naive, simple realism of many passages. The same objection does not +apply to English. There are a few archaic expressions in _Faust_, but no +more than are still allowed—nay, frequently encouraged—in the English +of our day. + +[B] “You are right,” said Goethe; “there are great and mysterious +agencies included in the various forms of Poetry. If the substance of my +‘Roman Elegies’ were to be expressed in the tone and measure of Byron’s +‘Don Juan,’ it would really have an atrocious effect.”—_Eckermann_. + +“The rhythm,” said Goethe, “is an unconscious result of the poetic mood. +If one should stop to consider it mechanically, when about to write a +poem, one would become bewildered and accomplish nothing of real +poetical value.”—_Ibid_. + +“_All that is poetic in character should be rythmically treated_! Such +is my conviction; and if even a sort of poetic prose should be gradually +introduced, it would only show that the distinction between prose and +poetry had been completely lost sight of.”—_Goethe to Schiller_, 1797. + +Tycho Mommsen, in his excellent essay, _Die Kunst des Deutschen +Uebersetzers aus neueren Sprachen_, goes so far as to say: “The metrical +or rhymed modelling of a poetical work is so essentially the germ of its +being, that, rather than by giving it up, we might hope to construct a +similar work of art before the eyes of our countrymen, by giving up or +changing the substance. The immeasurable result which has followed works +wherein the form has been retained—such as the Homer of Voss, and the +Shakespeare of Tieck and Schlegel—is an incontrovertible evidence of +the vitality of the endeavor.” + +[C] “Goethe’s poems exercise a great sway over me, not only by their +meaning, but also by their rhythm. It is a language which stimulates me +to composition.”—_Beethoven_. + +The various theories of translation from the Greek and Latin poets have +been admirably stated by Dryden in his Preface to the “Translations from +Ovid’s Epistles,” and I do not wish to continue the endless +discussion,—especially as our literature needs examples, not opinions. +A recent expression, however, carries with it so much authority, that I +feel bound to present some considerations which the accomplished scholar +seems to have overlooked. Mr. Lewes[D] justly says: “The effect of +poetry is a compound of music and suggestion; this music and this +suggestion are intermingled in words, which to alter is to alter the +effect. For words in poetry are not, as in prose, simple representatives +of objects and ideas: they are parts of an organic whole,—they are +tones in the harmony.” He thereupon illustrates the effect of +translation by changing certain well-known English stanzas into others, +equivalent in meaning, but lacking their felicity of words, their grace +and melody. I cannot accept this illustration as valid, because Mr. +Lewes purposely omits the very quality which an honest translator should +exhaust his skill in endeavoring to reproduce. He turns away from the +_one best_ word or phrase in the English lines he quotes, whereas the +translator seeks precisely that one best word or phrase (having _all_ +the resources of his language at command), to represent what is said in +_another_ language. More than this, his task is not simply mechanical: +he must feel, and be guided by, a secondary inspiration. Surrendering +himself to the full possession of the spirit which shall speak through +him, he receives, also, a portion of the same creative power. Mr. Lewes +reaches this conclusion: “If, therefore, we reflect what a poem _Faust_ +is, and that it contains almost every variety of style and metre, it +will be tolerably evident that no one unacquainted with the original can +form an adequate idea of it from translation,”[E] which is certainly +correct of any translation wherein something of the rhythmical variety +and beauty of the original is not retained. That very much of the +rhythmical character may be retained in English, was long ago shown by +Mr. Carlyle,[F] in the passages which he translated, both literally and +rhythmically, from the _Helena_ (Part Second). In fact, we have so many +instances of the possibility of reciprocally transferring the finest +qualities of English and German poetry, that there is no sufficient +excuse for an unmetrical translation of _Faust_. I refer especially to +such subtile and melodious lyrics as “The Castle by the Sea,” of Uhland, +and the “Silent Land” of Salis, translated by Mr. Longfellow; Goethe’s +“Minstrel” and “Coptic Song,” by Dr. Hedge; Heine’s “Two Grenadiers,” by +Dr. Furness and many of Heine’s songs by Mr. Leland; and also to the +German translations of English lyrics, by Freiligrath and Strodtmann.[G] + + +[D] Life of Goethe (Book VI.). + +[E] Mr. Lewes gives the following advice: “The English reader would +perhaps best succeed who should first read Dr. Anster’s brilliant +paraphrase, and then carefully go through Hayward’s prose translation.” +This is singularly at variance with the view he has just expressed. Dr. +Anster’s version is an almost incredible dilution of the original, +written in _other_ metres; while Hayward’s entirely omits the element of +poetry. + +[F] Foreign Review, 1828. + +[G] When Freiligrath can thus give us Walter Scott:— + +“Kommt, wie der Wind kommt, Wenn Wälder erzittern Kommt, wie die +Brandung Wenn Flotten zersplittern! Schnell heran, schnell herab, +Schneller kommt Al’e!—Häuptling und Bub’ und Knapp, Herr und Vasalle!” + +or Strodtmann thus reproduce Tennyson:— + +“Es fällt der Strahl auf Burg und Thal, Und schneeige Gipfel, reich an +Sagen; Viel’ Lichter wehn auf blauen Seen, Bergab die Wasserstürze +jagen! Blas, Hüfthorn, blas, in Wiederhall erschallend: Blas, +Horn—antwortet, Echos, hallend, hallend, hallend!” + +—it must be a dull ear which would be satisfied with the omission of +rhythm and rhyme. + +I have a more serious objection, however, to urge against Mr. Hayward’s +prose translation. Where all the restraints of verse are flung aside, we +should expect, at least, as accurate a reproduction of the sense, +spirit, and tone of the original, as the genius of our language will +permit. So far from having given us such a reproduction, Mr. Hayward not +only occasionally mistakes the exact meaning of the German text,[H] but, +wherever two phrases may be used to express the meaning with equal +fidelity, he very frequently selects that which has the less grace, +strength, or beauty.[I] + +[H] On his second page, the line _Mein Lied ertönt der unbekannten +Menge_, “My song sounds to the unknown multitude,” is translated: “My +_sorrow_ voices itself to the strange throng.” Other English +translators, I notice, have followed Mr. Hayward in mistaking _Lied_ for +_Leid_. + +I: + I take but one out of numerous instances, for the sake of +illustration. The close of the Soldier’s Song (Part I. Scene II.) is:— + + “Kühn is das Mühen, + Herrlich der Lohn! + Und die Soldaten + Ziehen davon.” + +Literally: + + Bold is the endeavor, + Splendid the pay! + And the soldiers + March away. + +This Mr. Hayward translates:— + + Bold the adventure, + Noble the reward— + And the soldiers + Are off. + +For there are few things which may not be said, in English, in a twofold +manner,—one poetic, and the other prosaic. In German, equally, a word +which in ordinary use has a bare prosaic character may receive a fairer +and finer quality from its place in verse. The prose translator should +certainly be able to feel the manifestation of this law in both +languages, and should so choose his words as to meet their reciprocal +requirements. A man, however, who is not keenly sensible to the power +and beauty and value of rhythm, is likely to overlook these delicate yet +most necessary distinctions. The author’s thought is stripped of a last +grace in passing through his mind, and frequently presents very much the +same resemblance to the original as an unhewn shaft to the fluted +column. Mr. Hayward unconsciously illustrates his lack of a refined +appreciation of verse, “in giving,” as he says, “_a sort of rhythmical +arrangement_ to the lyrical parts,” his object being “to convey some +notion of the variety of versification which forms one great charm of +the poem.” A literal translation is always possible in the unrhymed +passages; but even here Mr. Hayward’s ear did not dictate to him the +necessity of preserving the original rhythm. + +While, therefore, I heartily recognize his lofty appreciation of +_Faust_,—while I honor him for the patient and conscientious labor he +has bestowed upon his translation,—I cannot but feel that he has +himself illustrated the unsoundness of his argument. Nevertheless, the +circumstance that his prose translation of _Faust_ has received so much +acceptance proves those qualities of the original work which cannot be +destroyed by a test so violent. From the cold bare outline thus +produced, the reader unacquainted with the German language would +scarcely guess what glow of color, what richness of changeful life, what +fluent grace and energy of movement have been lost in the process. We +must, of course, gratefully receive such an outline, where a nearer +approach to the form of the original is impossible, but, until the +latter has been demonstrated, we are wrong to remain content with the +cheaper substitute. + +It seems to me that in all discussions upon this subject the capacities +of the English language have received but scanty justice. The +intellectual tendencies of our race have always been somewhat +conservative, and its standards of literary taste or belief, once set +up, are not varied without a struggle. The English ear is suspicious of +new metres and unaccustomed forms of expression: there are critical +detectives on the track of every author, and a violation of the accepted +canons is followed by a summons to judgment. Thus the tendency is to +contract rather than to expand the acknowledged excellences of the +language.[J] + +[J] I cannot resist the temptation of quoting the following passage from +Jacob Grimm: “No one of all the modern languages has acquired a greater +force and strength than the English, through the derangement and +relinquishment of its ancient laws of sound. The unteachable +(nevertheless _learnable_) profusion of its middle-tones has conferred +upon it an intrinsic power of expression, such as no other human tongue +ever possessed. Its entire, thoroughly intellectual and wonderfully +successful foundation and perfected development issued from a marvelous +union of the two noblest tongues of Europe, the Germanic and the +Romanic. Their mutual relation in the English language is well known, +since the former furnished chiefly the material basis, while the latter +added the intellectual conceptions. The English language, by and through +which the greatest and most eminent poet of modern times—as contrasted +with ancient classical poetry—(of course I can refer only to +Shakespeare) was begotten and nourished, has a just claim to be called a +language of the world; and it appears to be destined, like the English +race, to a higher and broader sway in all quarters of the earth. For in +richness, in compact adjustment of parts, and in pure intelligence, none +of the living languages can be compared with it,—not even our German, +which is divided even as we are divided, and which must cast off many +imperfections before it can boldly enter on its career.”—_Ueber den +Ursprung der Sprache_. + +The difficulties in the way of a nearly literal translation of _Faust_ +in the original metres have been exaggerated, because certain affinities +between the two languages have not been properly considered. With all +the splendor of versification in the work, it contains but few metres of +which the English tongue is not equally capable. Hood has familiarized +us with dactylic (triple) rhymes, and they are remarkably abundant and +skillful in Mr. Lowell’s “Fable for the Critics”: even the unrhymed +iambic hexameter of the _Helena_ occurs now and then in Milton’s _Samson +Agonistes_. It is true that the metrical foot into which the German +language most naturally falls is the _trochaic_, while in English it is +the _iambic_: it is true that German is rich, involved, and tolerant of +new combinations, while English is simple, direct, and rather shy of +compounds; but precisely these differences are so modified in the German +of _Faust_ that there is a mutual approach of the two languages. In +_Faust_, the iambic measure predominates; the style is compact; the many +licenses which the author allows himself are all directed towards a +shorter mode of construction. On the other hand, English metre compels +the use of inversions, admits many verbal liberties prohibited to prose, +and so inclines towards various flexible features of its sister-tongue +that many lines of _Faust_ may be repeated in English without the +slightest change of meaning, measure, or rhyme. There are words, it is +true, with so delicate a bloom upon them that it can in no wise be +preserved; but even such words will always lose less when they carry +with them their rhythmical atmosphere. The flow of Goethe’s verse is +sometimes so similar to that of the corresponding English metre, that +not only its harmonies and caesural pauses, but even its punctuation, +may be easily retained. + +I am satisfied that the difference between a translation of _Faust_ in +prose or metre is chiefly one of labor,—and of that labor which is +successful in proportion as it is joyously performed. My own task has +been cheered by the discovery, that the more closely I reproduced the +language of the original, the more of its rhythmical character was +transferred at the same time. If, now and then, there was an inevitable +alternative of meaning or music, I gave the preference to the former. By +the term “original metres” I do not mean a rigid, unyielding adherence +to every foot, line, and rhyme of the German original, although this has +very nearly been accomplished. Since the greater part of the work is +written in an irregular measure, the lines varying from three to six +feet, and the rhymes arranged according to the author’s will, I do not +consider that an occasional change in the number of feet, or order of +rhyme, is any violation of the metrical plan. The single slight liberty +I have taken with the lyrical passages is in Margaret’s song,—“The King +of Thule,”—in which, by omitting the alternate feminine rhymes, yet +retaining the metre, I was enabled to make the translation strictly +literal. If, in two or three instances, I have left a line unrhymed, I +have balanced the omission by giving rhymes to other lines which stand +unrhymed in the original text. For the same reason, I make no apology +for the imperfect rhymes, which are frequently a translation as well as +a necessity. With all its supreme qualities, _Faust_ is far from being a +technically perfect work.[K] + +[K] “At present, everything runs in technical grooves, and the critical +gentlemen begin to wrangle whether in a rhyme an _s_ should correspond +with an _s_ and not with _sz_. If I were young and reckless enough, I +would purposely offend all such technical caprices: I would use +alliteration, assonance, false rhyme, just according to my own will or +convenience—but, at the same time, I would attend to the main thing, +and endeavor to say so many good things that every one would be +attracted to read and remember them.”—_Goethe_, in 1831. + +The feminine and dactylic rhymes, which have been for the most part +omitted by all metrical translators except Mr. Brooks, are +indispensable. The characteristic tone of many passages would be nearly +lost, without them. They give spirit and grace to the dialogue, point to +the aphoristic portions (especially in the Second Part), and an +ever-changing music to the lyrical passages. The English language, +though not so rich as the German in such rhymes, is less deficient than +is generally supposed. The difficulty to be overcome is one of +construction rather than of the vocabulary. The present participle can +only be used to a limited extent, on account of its weak termination, +and the want of an accusative form to the noun also restricts the +arrangement of words in English verse. I cannot hope to have been always +successful; but I have at least labored long and patiently, bearing +constantly in mind not only the meaning of the original and the +mechanical structure of the lines, but also that subtile and haunting +music which seems to govern rhythm instead of being governed by it. + +B.T. + +[Illustration] + + + + +AN GOETHE + + +_Erhabener Geist, im Geisterreich verloren! +Wo immer Deine lichte Wohnung sey, +Zum höh’ren Schaffen bist Du neugeboren, +Und singest dort die voll’re Litanei. +Von jenem Streben das Du auserkoren, +Vom reinsten Aether, drin Du athmest frei, +O neige Dich zu gnädigem Erwiedern +Des letzten Wiederhalls von Deinen Liedern! + + +II + +Den alten Musen die bestäubten Kronen +Nahmst Du, zu neuem Glanz, mit kühner Hand: +Du löst die Räthsel ältester Aeonen +Durch jüngeren Glauben, helleren Verstand, +Und machst, wo rege Menschengeister wohnen, +Die ganze Erde Dir zum Vaterland; +Und Deine Jünger sehn in Dir, verwundert, +Verkörpert schon das werdende Jahrhundert. + + +III + +Was Du gesungen, Aller Lust und Klagen, +Des Lebens Wiedersprüche, neu vermählt,— +Die Harfe tausendstimmig frisch geschlagen, +Die Shakspeare einst, die einst Homer gewählt,— +Darf ich in fremde Klänge übertragen +Das Alles, wo so Mancher schon gefehlt? +Lass Deinen Geist in meiner Stimme klingen, +Und was Du sangst, lass mich es Dir nachsingen!_ + +B.T. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration: =Dedication=] + +Again ye come, ye hovering Forms! I find ye, +As early to my clouded sight ye shone! +Shall I attempt, this once, to seize and bind ye? +Still o’er my heart is that illusion thrown? +Ye crowd more near! Then, be the reign assigned ye, +And sway me from your misty, shadowy zone! +My bosom thrills, with youthful passion shaken, +From magic airs that round your march awaken. + +Of joyous days ye bring the blissful vision; +The dear, familiar phantoms rise again, +And, like an old and half-extinct tradition, +First Love returns, with Friendship in his train. +Renewed is Pain: with mournful repetition +Life tracks his devious, labyrinthine chain, +And names the Good, whose cheating fortune tore them +From happy hours, and left me to deplore them. + +They hear no longer these succeeding measures, +The souls, to whom my earliest songs I sang: + +Dispersed the friendly troop, with all its pleasures, +And still, alas! the echoes first that rang! +I bring the unknown multitude my treasures; +Their very plaudits give my heart a pang, +And those beside, whose joy my Song so flattered, +If still they live, wide through the world are scattered. + +And grasps me now a long-unwonted yearning +For that serene and solemn Spirit-Land: +My song, to faint Aeolian murmurs turning, +Sways like a harp-string by the breezes fanned. +I thrill and tremble; tear on tear is burning, +And the stern heart is tenderly unmanned. +What I possess, I see far distant lying, +And what I lost, grows real and undying. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration: =Prelude at the Theatre=] + + +MANAGER DRAMATIC POET MERRY-ANDREW + +MANAGER + +You two, who oft a helping hand +Have lent, in need and tribulation. +Come, let me know your expectation +Of this, our enterprise, in German land! +I wish the crowd to feel itself well treated, +Especially since it lives and lets me live; +The posts are set, the booth of boards completed. +And each awaits the banquet I shall give. +Already there, with curious eyebrows raised, +They sit sedate, and hope to be amazed. +I know how one the People’s taste may flatter, +Yet here a huge embarrassment I feel: +What they’re accustomed to, is no great matter, +But then, alas! they’ve read an awful deal. +How shall we plan, that all be fresh and new,— +Important matter, yet attractive too? +For ’tis my pleasure-to behold them surging, +When to our booth the current sets apace, +And with tremendous, oft-repeated urging, +Squeeze onward through the narrow gate of grace: +By daylight even, they push and cram in +To reach the seller’s box, a fighting host, +And as for bread, around a baker’s door, in famine, +To get a ticket break their necks almost. +This miracle alone can work the Poet +On men so various: now, my friend, pray show it. + + +POET + + +Speak not to me of yonder motley masses, +Whom but to see, puts out the fire of Song! +Hide from my view the surging crowd that passes, +And in its whirlpool forces us along! +No, lead me where some heavenly silence glasses +The purer joys that round the Poet throng,— +Where Love and Friendship still divinely fashion +The bonds that bless, the wreaths that crown his passion! +Ah, every utterance from the depths of feeling +The timid lips have stammeringly expressed,— +Now failing, now, perchance, success revealing,— +Gulps the wild Moment in its greedy breast; +Or oft, reluctant years its warrant sealing, +Its perfect stature stands at last confessed! +What dazzles, for the Moment spends its spirit: +What’s genuine, shall Posterity inherit. + + +MERRY-ANDREW + + +Posterity! Don’t name the word to me! +If _I_ should choose to preach Posterity, +Where would you get contemporary fun? +That men _will_ have it, there’s no blinking: +A fine young fellow’s presence, to my thinking, +Is something worth, to every one. +Who genially his nature can outpour, +Takes from the People’s moods no irritation; +The wider circle he acquires, the more +Securely works his inspiration. +Then pluck up heart, and give us sterling coin! +Let Fancy be with her attendants fitted,— +Sense, Reason, Sentiment, and Passion join,— +But have a care, lest Folly be omitted! + +MANAGER + +Chiefly, enough of incident prepare! +They come to look, and they prefer to stare. +Reel off a host of threads before their faces, +So that they gape in stupid wonder: then +By sheer diffuseness you have won their graces, +And are, at once, most popular of men. +Only by mass you touch the mass; for any +Will finally, himself, his bit select: +Who offers much, brings something unto many, +And each goes home content with the effect, +If you’ve a piece, why, just in pieces give it: +A hash, a stew, will bring success, believe it! +’Tis easily displayed, and easy to invent. +What use, a Whole compactly to present? +Your hearers pick and pluck, as soon as they receive it! + +POET + +You do not feel, how such a trade debases; +How ill it suits the Artist, proud and true! +The botching work each fine pretender traces +Is, I perceive, a principle with you. + +MANAGER + +Such a reproach not in the least offends; +A man who some result intends +Must use the tools that best are fitting. +Reflect, soft wood is given to you for splitting, +And then, observe for whom you write! +If one comes bored, exhausted quite, +Another, satiate, leaves the banquet’s tapers, +And, worst of all, full many a wight +Is fresh from reading of the daily papers. +Idly to us they come, as to a masquerade, +Mere curiosity their spirits warming: +The ladies with themselves, and with their finery, aid, +Without a salary their parts performing. +What dreams are yours in high poetic places? +You’re pleased, forsooth, full houses to behold? +Draw near, and view your patrons’ faces! +The half are coarse, the half are cold. +One, when the play is out, goes home to cards; +A wild night on a wench’s breast another chooses: +Why should you rack, poor, foolish bards, +For ends like these, the gracious Muses? +I tell you, give but more—more, ever more, they ask: +Thus shall you hit the mark of gain and glory. +Seek to confound your auditory! +To satisfy them is a task.— +What ails you now? Is’t suffering, or pleasure? + +POET + +Go, find yourself a more obedient slave! +What! shall the Poet that which Nature gave, +The highest right, supreme Humanity, +Forfeit so wantonly, to swell your treasure? +Whence o’er the heart his empire free? +The elements of Life how conquers he? +Is’t not his heart’s accord, urged outward far and dim, +To wind the world in unison with him? +When on the spindle, spun to endless distance, +By Nature’s listless hand the thread is twirled, +And the discordant tones of all existence +In sullen jangle are together hurled, +Who, then, the changeless orders of creation +Divides, and kindles into rhythmic dance? +Who brings the One to join the general ordination, +Where it may throb in grandest consonance? +Who bids the storm to passion stir the bosom? +In brooding souls the sunset burn above? +Who scatters every fairest April blossom +Along the shining path of Love? +Who braids the noteless leaves to crowns, requiting +Desert with fame, in Action’s every field? +Who makes Olympus sure, the Gods uniting? +The might of Man, as in the Bard revealed. + +MERRY-ANDREW + +So, these fine forces, in conjunction, +Propel the high poetic function, +As in a love-adventure they might play! +You meet by accident; you feel, you stay, +And by degrees your heart is tangled; +Bliss grows apace, and then its course is jangled; +You’re ravished quite, then comes a touch of woe, +And there’s a neat romance, completed ere you know! +Let us, then, such a drama give! +Grasp the exhaustless life that all men live! +Each shares therein, though few may comprehend: +Where’er you touch, there’s interest without end. +In motley pictures little light, +Much error, and of truth a glimmering mite, +Thus the best beverage is supplied, +Whence all the world is cheered and edified. +Then, at your play, behold the fairest flower +Of youth collect, to hear the revelation! +Each tender soul, with sentimental power, +Sucks melancholy food from your creation; +And now in this, now that, the leaven works. +For each beholds what in his bosom lurks. +They still are moved at once to weeping or to laughter, +Still wonder at your flights, enjoy the show they see: +A mind, once formed, is never suited after; +One yet in growth will ever grateful be. + +POET + +Then give me back that time of pleasures, +While yet in joyous growth I sang,— +When, like a fount, the crowding measures +Uninterrupted gushed and sprang! +Then bright mist veiled the world before me, +In opening buds a marvel woke, +As I the thousand blossoms broke, +Which every valley richly bore me! +I nothing had, and yet enough for youth— +Joy in Illusion, ardent thirst for Truth. +Give, unrestrained, the old emotion, +The bliss that touched the verge of pain, +The strength of Hate, Love’s deep devotion,— +O, give me back my youth again! + +MERRY ANDREW + +Youth, good my friend, you certainly require +When foes in combat sorely press you; +When lovely maids, in fond desire, +Hang on your bosom and caress you; +When from the hard-won goal the wreath +Beckons afar, the race awaiting; +When, after dancing out your breath, +You pass the night in dissipating:— +But that familiar harp with soul +To play,—with grace and bold expression, +And towards a self-erected goal +To walk with many a sweet digression,— +This, aged Sirs, belongs to you, +And we no less revere you for that reason: +Age childish makes, they say, but ’tis not true; +We’re only genuine children still, in Age’s season! + + +MANAGER + +The words you’ve bandied are sufficient; +’Tis deeds that I prefer to see: +In compliments you’re both proficient, +But might, the while, more useful be. +What need to talk of Inspiration? +’Tis no companion of Delay. +If Poetry be your vocation, +Let Poetry your will obey! +Full well you know what here is wanting; +The crowd for strongest drink is panting, +And such, forthwith, I’d have you brew. +What’s left undone to-day, To-morrow will not do. +Waste not a day in vain digression: +With resolute, courageous trust +Seize every possible impression, +And make it firmly your possession; +You’ll then work on, because you must. +Upon our German stage, you know it, +Each tries his hand at what he will; +So, take of traps and scenes your fill, +And all you find, be sure to show it! +Use both the great and lesser heavenly light,— +Squander the stars in any number, +Beasts, birds, trees, rocks, and all such lumber, +Fire, water, darkness, Day and Night! +Thus, in our booth’s contracted sphere, +The circle of Creation will appear, +And move, as we deliberately impel, +From Heaven, across the World, to Hell! +[Illustration] +[Illustration] + +PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN + +THE LORD THE HEAVENLY HOST _Afterwards_ +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_The_ THREE ARCHANGELS _come forward_.) + + +RAPHAEL + +The sun-orb sings, in emulation, +’Mid brother-spheres, his ancient round: +His path predestined through Creation +He ends with step of thunder-sound. +The angels from his visage splendid +Draw power, whose measure none can say; +The lofty works, uncomprehended, +Are bright as on the earliest day. + + +GABRIEL + +And swift, and swift beyond conceiving, +The splendor of the world goes round, +Day’s Eden-brightness still relieving +The awful Night’s intense profound: +The ocean-tides in foam are breaking, +Against the rocks’ deep bases hurled, +And both, the spheric race partaking, +Eternal, swift, are onward whirled! + + +MICHAEL + +And rival storms abroad are surging +From sea to land, from land to sea. +A chain of deepest action forging +Round all, in wrathful energy. +There flames a desolation, blazing +Before the Thunder’s crashing way: +Yet, Lord, Thy messengers are praising +The gentle movement of Thy Day. + + +THE THREE + +Though still by them uncomprehended, +From these the angels draw their power, +And all Thy works, sublime and splendid, +Are bright as in Creation’s hour. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Since Thou, O Lord, deign’st to approach again +And ask us how we do, in manner kindest, +And heretofore to meet myself wert fain, +Among Thy menials, now, my face Thou findest. +Pardon, this troop I cannot follow after +With lofty speech, though by them scorned and spurned: +My pathos certainly would move Thy laughter, +If Thou hadst not all merriment unlearned. +Of suns and worlds I’ve nothing to be quoted; +How men torment themselves, is all I’ve noted. +The little god o’ the world sticks to the same old way, +And is as whimsical as on Creation’s day. +Life somewhat better might content him, +But for the gleam of heavenly light which Thou hast lent him: +He calls it Reason—thence his power’s increased, +To be far beastlier than any beast. +Saving Thy Gracious Presence, he to me +A long-legged grasshopper appears to be, +That springing flies, and flying springs, +And in the grass the same old ditty sings. +Would he still lay among the grass he grows in! +Each bit of dung he seeks, to stick his nose in. + + +THE LORD + +Hast thou, then, nothing more to mention? +Com’st ever, thus, with ill intention? +Find’st nothing right on earth, eternally? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No, Lord! I find things, there, still bad as they can be. +Man’s misery even to pity moves my nature; +I’ve scarce the heart to plague the wretched creature. + + +THE LORD + +Know’st Faust? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The Doctor Faust? + + +THE LORD + +My servant, he! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Forsooth! He serves you after strange devices: +No earthly meat or drink the fool suffices: +His spirit’s ferment far aspireth; +Half conscious of his frenzied, crazed unrest, +The fairest stars from Heaven he requireth, +From Earth the highest raptures and the best, +And all the Near and Far that he desireth +Fails to subdue the tumult of his breast. + + +THE LORD + +Though still confused his service unto Me, +I soon shall lead him to a clearer morning. +Sees not the gardener, even while buds his tree, +Both flower and fruit the future years adorning? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What will you bet? There’s still a chance to gain him, +If unto me full leave you give, +Gently upon _my_ road to train him! + + +THE LORD + +As long as he on earth shall live, +So long I make no prohibition. +While Man’s desires and aspirations stir, +He cannot choose but err. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My thanks! I find the dead no acquisition, +And never cared to have them in my keeping. +I much prefer the cheeks where ruddy blood is leaping, +And when a corpse approaches, close my house: +It goes with me, as with the cat the mouse. + + +THE LORD + +Enough! What thou hast asked is granted. +Turn off this spirit from his fountain-head; +To trap him, let thy snares be planted, +And him, with thee, be downward led; +Then stand abashed, when thou art forced to say: +A good man, through obscurest aspiration, +Has still an instinct of the one true way. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Agreed! But ’tis a short probation. +About my bet I feel no trepidation. +If I fulfill my expectation, +You’ll let me triumph with a swelling breast: +Dust shall he eat, and with a zest, +As did a certain snake, my near relation. + + +THE LORD + +Therein thou’rt free, according to thy merits; +The like of thee have never moved My hate. +Of all the bold, denying Spirits, +The waggish knave least trouble doth create. +Man’s active nature, flagging, seeks too soon the level; +Unqualified repose he learns to crave; +Whence, willingly, the comrade him I gave, +Who works, excites, and must create, as Devil. +But ye, God’s sons in love and duty, +Enjoy the rich, the ever-living Beauty! +Creative Power, that works eternal schemes, +Clasp you in bonds of love, relaxing never, +And what in wavering apparition gleams +Fix in its place with thoughts that stand forever! + + +(_Heaven closes: the_ ARCHANGELS _separate_.) + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_solus_) + +I like, at times, to hear The Ancient’s word, +And have a care to be most civil: +It’s really kind of such a noble Lord +So humanly to gossip with the Devil! +[Illustration] +[Illustration] + + + + +FIRST PART OF THE TRAGEDY + + +I + +NIGHT + +(_A lofty-arched, narrow, Gothic chamber_. FAUST, _in a chair at his +desk, restless_.) + + +FAUST + +I’ve studied now Philosophy +And Jurisprudence, Medicine,— +And even, alas! Theology,— +From end to end, with labor keen; +And here, poor fool! with all my lore +I stand, no wiser than before: +I’m Magister—yea, Doctor—hight, +And straight or cross-wise, wrong or right, +These ten years long, with many woes, +I’ve led my scholars by the nose,— +And see, that nothing can be known! +_That_ knowledge cuts me to the bone. +I’m cleverer, true, than those fops of teachers, +Doctors and Magisters, Scribes and Preachers; +Neither scruples nor doubts come now to smite me, +Nor Hell nor Devil can longer affright me. + +For this, all pleasure am I foregoing; +I do not pretend to aught worth knowing, +I do not pretend I could be a teacher +To help or convert a fellow-creature. +Then, too, I’ve neither lands nor gold, +Nor the world’s least pomp or honor hold— +No dog would endure such a curst existence! +Wherefore, from Magic I seek assistance, +That many a secret perchance I reach +Through spirit-power and spirit-speech, +And thus the bitter task forego +Of saying the things I do not know,— +That I may detect the inmost force +Which binds the world, and guides its course; +Its germs, productive powers explore, +And rummage in empty words no more! + +O full and splendid Moon, whom I +Have, from this desk, seen climb the sky +So many a midnight,—would thy glow +For the last time beheld my woe! +Ever thine eye, most mournful friend, +O’er books and papers saw me bend; +But would that I, on mountains grand, +Amid thy blessed light could stand, +With spirits through mountain-caverns hover, +Float in thy twilight the meadows over, +And, freed from the fumes of lore that swathe me, +To health in thy dewy fountains bathe me! + +Ah, me! this dungeon still I see. +This drear, accursed masonry, +Where even the welcome daylight strains +But duskly through the painted panes. +Hemmed in by many a toppling heap +Of books worm-eaten, gray with dust, +Which to the vaulted ceiling creep, +Against the smoky paper thrust,— +With glasses, boxes, round me stacked, +And instruments together hurled, +Ancestral lumber, stuffed and packed— +Such is my world: and what a world! + +And do I ask, wherefore my heart +Falters, oppressed with unknown needs? +Why some inexplicable smart +All movement of my life impedes? +Alas! in living Nature’s stead, +Where God His human creature set, +In smoke and mould the fleshless dead +And bones of beasts surround me yet! + +Fly! Up, and seek the broad, free land! +And this one Book of Mystery +From Nostradamus’ very hand, +Is’t not sufficient company? +When I the starry courses know, +And Nature’s wise instruction seek, +With light of power my soul shall glow, +As when to spirits spirits speak. +Tis vain, this empty brooding here, +Though guessed the holy symbols be: +Ye, Spirits, come—ye hover near— +Oh, if you hear me, answer me! + +(_He opens the Book, and perceives the sign of the Macrocosm_.) + +Ha! what a sudden rapture leaps from this +I view, through all my senses swiftly flowing! +I feel a youthful, holy, vital bliss +In every vein and fibre newly glowing. +Was it a God, who traced this sign, +With calm across my tumult stealing, +My troubled heart to joy unsealing, +With impulse, mystic and divine, +The powers of Nature here, around my path, revealing? +Am I a God?—so clear mine eyes! +In these pure features I behold +Creative Nature to my soul unfold. +What says the sage, now first I recognize: +“The spirit-world no closures fasten; +Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead: +Disciple, up! untiring, hasten +To bathe thy breast in morning-red!” + +(_He contemplates the sign_.) + +How each the Whole its substance gives, +Each in the other works and lives! +Like heavenly forces rising and descending, +Their golden urns reciprocally lending, +With wings that winnow blessing +From Heaven through Earth I see them pressing, +Filling the All with harmony unceasing! +How grand a show! but, ah! a show alone. +Thee, boundless Nature, how make thee my own? +Where you, ye beasts? Founts of all Being, shining, +Whereon hang Heaven’s and Earth’s desire, +Whereto our withered hearts aspire,— +Ye flow, ye feed: and am I vainly pining? + +(_He turns the leaves impatiently, and perceives the sign of the +Earth-Spirit_.) + +How otherwise upon me works this sign! +Thou, Spirit of the Earth, art nearer: +Even now my powers are loftier, clearer; +I glow, as drunk with new-made wine: +New strength and heart to meet the world incite me, +The woe of earth, the bliss of earth, invite me, +And though the shock of storms may smite me, +No crash of shipwreck shall have power to fright me! +Clouds gather over me— +The moon conceals her light— +The lamp’s extinguished!— +Mists rise,—red, angry rays are darting +Around my head!—There falls +A horror from the vaulted roof, +And seizes me! +I feel thy presence, Spirit I invoke! +Reveal thyself! +Ha! in my heart what rending stroke! +With new impulsion +My senses heave in this convulsion! +I feel thee draw my heart, absorb, exhaust me: +Thou must! thou must! and though my life it cost me! + +(_He seizes the book, and mysteriously pronounces the sign of +the Spirit. A ruddy flame flashes: the Spirit appears in +the flame_.) + + +SPIRIT + +Who calls me? + + +FAUST (_with averted head_) + +Terrible to see! + + +SPIRIT + +Me hast thou long with might attracted, +Long from my sphere thy food exacted, +And now— + +FAUST + + Woe! I endure not thee! + + +SPIRIT + +To view me is thine aspiration, +My voice to hear, my countenance to see; +Thy powerful yearning moveth me, +Here am I!—what mean perturbation +Thee, superhuman, shakes? Thy soul’s high calling, where? +Where is the breast, which from itself a world did bear, +And shaped and cherished—which with joy expanded, +To be our peer, with us, the Spirits, banded? +Where art thou, Faust, whose voice has pierced to me, +Who towards me pressed with all thine energy? +_He_ art thou, who, my presence breathing, seeing, +Trembles through all the depths of being, +A writhing worm, a terror-stricken form? + + +FAUST + +Thee, form of flame, shall I then fear? +Yes, I am Faust: I am thy peer! + + +SPIRIT + + In the tides of Life, in Action’s storm, + A fluctuant wave, + A shuttle free, + Birth and the Grave, + An eternal sea, + A weaving, flowing + Life, all-glowing, +Thus at Time’s humming loom ’tis my hand prepares +The garment of Life which the Deity wears! + + +FAUST + +Thou, who around the wide world wendest, +Thou busy Spirit, how near I feel to thee! + + +SPIRIT + +Thou’rt like the Spirit which thou comprehendest, +Not me! + +(_Disappears_.) + + +FAUST (_overwhelmed_) + +Not thee! +Whom then? +I, image of the Godhead! +Not even like thee! + +(_A knock_). + +O Death!—I know it—’tis my Famulus! +My fairest luck finds no fruition: +In all the fullness of my vision +The soulless sneak disturbs me thus! + +(_Enter_ WAGNER_, in dressing-gown and night-cap, a lamp in +his hand. _FAUST_ turns impatiently_.) + + +WAGNER + +Pardon, I heard your declamation; +’Twas sure an old Greek tragedy you read? +In such an art I crave some preparation, +Since now it stands one in good stead. +I’ve often heard it said, a preacher +Might learn, with a comedian for a teacher. + + +FAUST + +Yes, when the priest comedian is by nature, +As haply now and then the case may be. + + +WAGNER + +Ah, when one studies thus, a prisoned creature, +That scarce the world on holidays can see,— +Scarce through a glass, by rare occasion, +How shall one lead it by persuasion? + + +FAUST + +You’ll ne’er attain it, save you know the feeling, +Save from the soul it rises clear, +Serene in primal strength, compelling +The hearts and minds of all who hear. +You sit forever gluing, patching; +You cook the scraps from others’ fare; +And from your heap of ashes hatching +A starveling flame, ye blow it bare! +Take children’s, monkeys’ gaze admiring, +If such your taste, and be content; +But ne’er from heart to heart you’ll speak inspiring, +Save your own heart is eloquent! + + +WAGNER + +Yet through delivery orators succeed; +I feel that I am far behind, indeed. + + +FAUST + +Seek thou the honest recompense! +Beware, a tinkling fool to be! +With little art, clear wit and sense +Suggest their own delivery; +And if thou’rt moved to speak in earnest, +What need, that after words thou yearnest? +Yes, your discourses, with their glittering show, +Where ye for men twist shredded thought like paper, +Are unrefreshing as the winds that blow +The rustling leaves through chill autumnal vapor! + + +WAGNER + +Ah, God! but Art is long, +And Life, alas! is fleeting. +And oft, with zeal my critic-duties meeting, +In head and breast there’s something wrong. + +How hard it is to compass the assistance +Whereby one rises to the source! +And, haply, ere one travels half the course +Must the poor devil quit existence. + + +FAUST + +Is parchment, then, the holy fount before thee, +A draught wherefrom thy thirst forever slakes? +No true refreshment can restore thee, +Save what from thine own soul spontaneous breaks. + + +WAGNER + +Pardon! a great delight is granted +When, in the spirit of the ages planted, +We mark how, ere our times, a sage has thought, +And then, how far his work, and grandly, we have brought. + + +FAUST + +O yes, up to the stars at last! +Listen, my friend: the ages that are past +Are now a book with seven seals protected: +What you the Spirit of the Ages call +Is nothing but the spirit of you all, +Wherein the Ages are reflected. +So, oftentimes, you miserably mar it! +At the first glance who sees it runs away. +An offal-barrel and a lumber-garret, +Or, at the best, a Punch-and-Judy play, +With maxims most pragmatical and hitting, +As in the mouths of puppets are befitting! + + +WAGNER + +But then, the world—the human heart and brain! +Of these one covets some slight apprehension. + + +FAUST + +Yes, of the kind which men attain! +Who dares the child’s true name in public mention? +The few, who thereof something really learned, +Unwisely frank, with hearts that spurned concealing, +And to the mob laid bare each thought and feeling, +Have evermore been crucified and burned. +I pray you, Friend, ’tis now the dead of night; +Our converse here must be suspended. + + +WAGNER + +I would have shared your watches with delight, +That so our learned talk might be extended. +To-morrow, though, I’ll ask, in Easter leisure, +This and the other question, at your pleasure. +Most zealously I seek for erudition: +Much do I know—but to know all is my ambition. + + [_Exit_. + + +FAUST (_solus_) + +That brain, alone, not loses hope, whose choice is +To stick in shallow trash forevermore,— +Which digs with eager hand for buried ore, +And, when it finds an angle-worm, rejoices! + +Dare such a human voice disturb the flow, +Around me here, of spirit-presence fullest? +And yet, this once my thanks I owe +To thee, of all earth’s sons the poorest, dullest! +For thou hast torn me from that desperate state +Which threatened soon to overwhelm my senses: +The apparition was so giant-great, +It dwarfed and withered all my soul’s pretences! + +I, image of the Godhead, who began— +Deeming Eternal Truth secure in nearness— +To sun myself in heavenly light and clearness, +And laid aside the earthly man;— +I, more than Cherub, whose free force had planned +To flow through Nature’s veins in glad pulsation, +To reach beyond, enjoying in creation +The life of Gods, behold my expiation! +A thunder-word hath swept me from my stand.27 + +With thee I dare not venture to compare me. +Though I possessed the power to draw thee near me, +The power to keep thee was denied my hand. +When that ecstatic moment held me, +I felt myself so small, so great; +But thou hast ruthlessly repelled me +Back upon Man’s uncertain fate. +What shall I shun? Whose guidance borrow? +Shall I accept that stress and strife? +Ah! every deed of ours, no less than every sorrow, +Impedes the onward march of life. + +Some alien substance more and more is cleaving +To all the mind conceives of grand and fair; +When this world’s Good is won by our achieving, +The Better, then, is named a cheat and snare. +The fine emotions, whence our lives we mould, +Lie in the earthly tumult dumb and cold. +If hopeful Fancy once, in daring flight, +Her longings to the Infinite expanded, +Yet now a narrow space contents her quite, +Since Time’s wild wave so many a fortune stranded. +Care at the bottom of the heart is lurking: +Her secret pangs in silence working, +She, restless, rocks herself, disturbing joy and rest: +In newer masks her face is ever drest, +By turns as house and land, as wife and child, presented,— +As water, fire, as poison, steel: +We dread the blows we never feel, +And what we never lose is yet by us lamented! + +I am not like the Gods! That truth is felt too deep: +The worm am I, that in the dust doth creep,— +That, while in dust it lives and seeks its bread, +Is crushed and buried by the wanderer’s tread. + +Is not this dust, these walls within them hold, +The hundred shelves, which cramp and chain me, +The frippery, the trinkets thousandfold, +That in this mothy den restrain me? +Here shall I find the help I need? +Shall here a thousand volumes teach me only +That men, self-tortured, everywhere must bleed,— +And here and there one happy man sits lonely?28 +What mean’st thou by that grin, thou hollow skull, +Save that thy brain, like mine, a cloudy mirror, +Sought once the shining day, and then, in twilight dull,29 +Thirsting for Truth, went wretchedly to Error? +Ye instruments, forsooth, but jeer at me +With wheel and cog, and shapes uncouth of wonder; +I found the portal, you the keys should be; +Your wards are deftly wrought, but drive no bolts asunder! +Mysterious even in open day, +Nature retains her veil, despite our clamors: +That which she doth not willingly display +Cannot be wrenched from her with levers, screws, and hammers. +Ye ancient tools, whose use I never knew, +Here, since my father used ye, still ye moulder: +Thou, ancient scroll, hast worn thy smoky hue +Since at this desk the dim lamp wont to smoulder. +’T were better far, had I my little idly spent, +Than now to sweat beneath its burden, I confess it! +What from your fathers’ heritage is lent, +Earn it anew, to really possess it!30 +What serves not, is a sore impediment: +The Moment’s need creates the thing to serve and bless it! + +Yet, wherefore tums my gaze to yonder point so lightly? +Is yonder flask a magnet for mine eyes? +Whence, all around me, glows the air so brightly, +As when in woods at night the mellow moonbeam lies? + +I hail thee, wondrous, rarest vial! +I take thee down devoutly, for the trial: +Man’s art and wit I venerate in thee. +Thou summary of gentle slumber-juices, +Essence of deadly finest powers and uses, +Unto thy master show thy favor free! +I see thee, and the stings of pain diminish; +I grasp thee, and my struggles slowly finish: +My spirit’s flood-tide ebbeth more and more. +Out on the open ocean speeds my dreaming; +The glassy flood before my feet is gleaming, +A new day beckons to a newer shore! + +A fiery chariot, borne on buoyant pinions, +Sweeps near me now! I soon shall ready be +To pierce the ether’s high, unknown dominions, +To reach new spheres of pure activity! +This godlike rapture, this supreme existence, +Do I, but now a worm, deserve to track? +Yes, resolute to reach some brighter distance, +On Earth’s fair sun I turn my back 31 +Yes, let me dare those gates to fling asunder, +Which every man would fain go slinking by! +’T is time, through deeds this word of truth to thunder: +That with the height of Gods Man’s dignity may vie! +Nor from that gloomy gulf to shrink affrighted, +Where Fancy doth herself to self-born pangs compel,— +To struggle toward that pass benighted, +Around whose narrow mouth flame all the fires of Hell,— +To take this step with cheerful resolution, +Though Nothingness should be the certain, swift conclusion! +And now come down, thou cup of crystal clearest! +Fresh from thine ancient cover thou appearest, +So many years forgotten to my thought! +Thou shon’st at old ancestral banquets cheery, +The solemn guests thou madest merry, +When one thy wassail to the other brought. +The rich and skilful figures o’er thee wrought, +The drinker’s duty, rhyme-wise to explain them, +Or in one breath below the mark to drain them, +From many a night of youth my memory caught. +Now to a neighbor shall I pass thee never, +Nor on thy curious art to test my wit endeavor, +Here is a juice whence sleep is swiftly born. +It fills with browner flood thy crystal hollow; +I chose, prepared it: thus I follow,— +With all my soul the final drink I swallow, +A solemn festal cup, a greeting to the morn! +[He sets the goblet to his mouth. +(Chime of bells and choral song.) + + +CHORUS OF ANGELS.32 +Christ is arisen! +Joy to the Mortal One, +Whom the unmerited, +Clinging, inherited +Needs did imprison. + + +FAUST. +What hollow humming, what a sharp, clear stroke, +Drives from my lip the goblet’s, at their meeting? +Announce the booming bells already woke +The first glad hour of Easter’s festal greeting? +Ye choirs, have ye begun the sweet, consoling chant, +Which, through the night of Death, the angels ministrant +Sang, God’s new Covenant repeating? + + +CHORUS OF WOMEN + + With spices and precious + Balm, we arrayed him; + Faithful and gracious, + We tenderly laid him: + Linen to bind him + Cleanlily wound we: + Ah! when we would find him, + Christ no more found we! + + +CHORUS OF ANGELS + + Christ is ascended! + Bliss hath invested him,— + Woes that molested him, + Trials that tested him, + Gloriously ended! + + +FAUST + +Why, here in dust, entice me with your spell, +Ye gentle, powerful sounds of Heaven? +Peal rather there, where tender natures dwell. +Your messages I hear, but faith has not been given; +The dearest child of Faith is Miracle. +I venture not to soar to yonder regions +Whence the glad tidings hither float; +And yet, from childhood up familiar with the note, +To Life it now renews the old allegiance. +Once Heavenly Love sent down a burning kiss +Upon my brow, in Sabbath silence holy; +And, filled with mystic presage, chimed the church-bell slowly, +And prayer dissolved me in a fervent bliss. +A sweet, uncomprehended yearning +Drove forth my feet through woods and meadows free, +And while a thousand tears were burning, +I felt a world arise for me. +These chants, to youth and all its sports appealing, +Proclaimed the Spring’s rejoicing holiday; +And Memory holds me now, with childish feeling, +Back from the last, the solemn way. +Sound on, ye hymns of Heaven, so sweet and mild! +My tears gush forth: the Earth takes back her child! + + +CHORUS OF DISCIPLES + + Has He, victoriously, + Burst from the vaulted + Grave, and all-gloriously + Now sits exalted? + Is He, in glow of birth, + Rapture creative near? + Ah! to the woe of earth + Still are we native here. + We, his aspiring + Followers, Him we miss; + Weeping, desiring, + Master, Thy bliss! + +CHORUS OF ANGELS + + Christ is arisen, + Out of Corruption’s womb: + Burst ye the prison, + Break from your gloom! + Praising and pleading him, + Lovingly needing him, + Brotherly feeding him, + Preaching and speeding him, + Blessing, succeeding Him, + Thus is the Master near,— + Thus is He here! +[Illustration] + + + + +II + + +BEFORE THE CITY-GATE + +(_Pedestrians of all kinds come forth_.) + + +SEVERAL APPRENTICES + +Why do you go that way? + + +OTHERS + +We’re for the Hunters’ lodge, to-day. + + +THE FIRST + +We’ll saunter to the Mill, in yonder hollow. + + +AN APPRENTICE + +Go to the River Tavern, I should say. + + +SECOND APPRENTICE + +But then, it’s not a pleasant way. + + +THE OTHERS + +And what will _you_? + +A THIRD + + As goes the crowd, I follow. + + +A FOURTH + +Come up to Burgdorf? There you’ll find good cheer, +The finest lasses and the best of beer, +And jolly rows and squabbles, trust me! + + +A FIFTH + +You swaggering fellow, is your hide +A third time itching to be tried? +I won’t go there, your jolly rows disgust me! + + +SERVANT-GIRL + +No,—no! I’ll turn and go to town again. + + +ANOTHER + +We’ll surely find him by those poplars yonder. + + +THE FIRST + +That’s no great luck for me, ’tis plain. +You’ll have him, when and where you wander: +His partner in the dance you’ll be,— +But what is all your fun to me? + + +THE OTHER + +He’s surely not alone to-day: +He’ll be with Curly-head, I heard him say. + + +A STUDENT + +Deuce! how they step, the buxom wenches! +Come, Brother! we must see them to the benches. +A strong, old beer, a pipe that stings and bites, +A girl in Sunday clothes,—these three are my delights. + + +CITIZEN’S DAUGHTER + +Just see those handsome fellows, there! +It’s really shameful, I declare;— +To follow servant-girls, when they +Might have the most genteel society to-day! + + +SECOND STUDENT (_to the First_) + +Not quite so fast! Two others come behind,— +Those, dressed so prettily and neatly. +My neighbor’s one of them, I find, +A girl that takes my heart, completely. +They go their way with looks demure, +But they’ll accept us, after all, I’m sure. + + +THE FIRST + +No, Brother! not for me their formal ways. +Quick! lest our game escape us in the press: +The hand that wields the broom on Saturdays +Will best, on Sundays, fondle and caress. + + +CITIZEN + +He suits me not at all, our new-made Burgomaster! +Since he’s installed, his arrogance grows faster. +How has he helped the town, I say? +Things worsen,—what improvement names he? +Obedience, more than ever, claims he, +And more than ever we must pay! + + +BEGGAR (_sings_) + + Good gentlemen and lovely ladies, + So red of cheek and fine of dress, + Behold, how needful here your aid is, + And see and lighten my distress! + Let me not vainly sing my ditty; + He’s only glad who gives away: + A holiday, that shows your pity, + Shall be for me a harvest-day! + + +ANOTHER CITIZEN + +On Sundays, holidays, there’s naught I take delight in, +Like gossiping of war, and war’s array, +When down in Turkey, far away, +The foreign people are a-fighting. +One at the window sits, with glass and friends, +And sees all sorts of ships go down the river gliding: +And blesses then, as home he wends +At night, our times of peace abiding. + + +THIRD CITIZEN + +Yes, Neighbor! that’s my notion, too: +Why, let them break their heads, let loose their passions, +And mix things madly through and through, +So, here, we keep our good old fashions! + + +OLD WOMAN (_to the Citizen’s Daughter_) + +Dear me, how fine! So handsome, and so young! +Who wouldn’t lose his heart, that met you? +Don’t be so proud! I’ll hold my tongue, +And what you’d like I’ll undertake to get you. + + +CITIZEN’S DAUGHTER + +Come, Agatha! I shun the witch’s sight +Before folks, lest there be misgiving: +’Tis true, she showed me, on Saint Andrew’s Night, +My future sweetheart, just as he were living. + + +THE OTHER + +She showed me mine, in crystal clear, +With several wild young blades, a soldier-lover: +I seek him everywhere, I pry and peer, +And yet, somehow, his face I can’t discover. + +SOLDIERS + + Castles, with lofty + Ramparts and towers, + Maidens disdainful + In Beauty’s array, + Both shall be ours! + Bold is the venture, + Splendid the pay! + Lads, let the trumpets + For us be suing,— + Calling to pleasure, + Calling to ruin. + Stormy our life is; + Such is its boon! + Maidens and castles + Capitulate soon. + Bold is the venture, + Splendid the pay! + And the soldiers go marching, + Marching away! + + +FAUST AND WAGNER + + +FAUST + +Released from ice are brook and river +By the quickening glance of the gracious Spring; +The colors of hope to the valley cling, +And weak old Winter himself must shiver, +Withdrawn to the mountains, a crownless king: +Whence, ever retreating, he sends again +Impotent showers of sleet that darkle +In belts across the green o’ the plain. +But the sun will permit no white to sparkle; +Everywhere form in development moveth; +He will brighten the world with the tints he loveth, +And, lacking blossoms, blue, yellow, and red, +He takes these gaudy people instead. +Turn thee about, and from this height +Back on the town direct thy sight. +Out of the hollow, gloomy gate, +The motley throngs come forth elate: +Each will the joy of the sunshine hoard, +To honor the Day of the Risen Lord! +They feel, themselves, their resurrection: +From the low, dark rooms, scarce habitable; +From the bonds of Work, from Trade’s restriction; +From the pressing weight of roof and gable; +From the narrow, crushing streets and alleys; +From the churches’ solemn and reverend night, +All come forth to the cheerful light. +How lively, see! the multitude sallies, +Scattering through gardens and fields remote, +While over the river, that broadly dallies, +Dances so many a festive boat; +And overladen, nigh to sinking, +The last full wherry takes the stream. +Yonder afar, from the hill-paths blinking, +Their clothes are colors that softly gleam. +I hear the noise of the village, even; +Here is the People’s proper Heaven; +Here high and low contented see! +Here I am Man,—dare man to be! + + +WAGNER + +To stroll with you, Sir Doctor, flatters; +’Tis honor, profit, unto me. +But I, alone, would shun these shallow matters, +Since all that’s coarse provokes my enmity. +This fiddling, shouting, ten-pin rolling +I hate,—these noises of the throng: +They rave, as Satan were their sports controlling. +And call it mirth, and call it song! + + +PEASANTS, UNDER THE LINDEN-TREE + (_Dance and Song_.) + + All for the dance the shepherd dressed, + In ribbons, wreath, and gayest vest + Himself with care arraying: + Around the linden lass and lad + Already footed it like mad: + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah—tarara-la! + The fiddle-bow was playing. + + He broke the ranks, no whit afraid, + And with his elbow punched a maid, + Who stood, the dance surveying: + The buxom wench, she turned and said: + “Now, you I call a stupid-head!” + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah—tarara-la! + “Be decent while you’re staying!” + + Then round the circle went their flight, + They danced to left, they danced to right: + Their kirtles all were playing. + They first grew red, and then grew warm, + And rested, panting, arm in arm,— + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah—tarara-la! + And hips and elbows straying. + + Now, don’t be so familiar here! + How many a one has fooled his dear, + Waylaying and betraying! + + And yet, he coaxed her soon aside, + And round the linden sounded wide. + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah—tarara-la! + And the fiddle-bow was playing. + +OLD PEASANT + +Sir Doctor, it is good of you, +That thus you condescend, to-day, +Among this crowd of merry folk, +A highly-learned man, to stray. +Then also take the finest can, +We fill with fresh wine, for your sake: +I offer it, and humbly wish +That not alone your thirst is slake,— +That, as the drops below its brink, +So many days of life you drink! + + +FAUST + +I take the cup you kindly reach, +With thanks and health to all and each. + +(_The People gather in a circle about him_.) + + +OLD PEASANT + +In truth, ’tis well and fitly timed, +That now our day of joy you share, +Who heretofore, in evil days, +Gave us so much of helping care. +Still many a man stands living here, +Saved by your father’s skillful hand, +That snatched him from the fever’s rage +And stayed the plague in all the land. +Then also you, though but a youth, +Went into every house of pain: +Many the corpses carried forth, +But you in health came out again. + +FAUST + +No test or trial you evaded: +A Helping God the helper aided. + +ALL + +Health to the man, so skilled and tried. +That for our help he long may abide! + +FAUST + +To Him above bow down, my friends, +Who teaches help, and succor sends! + +(_He goes on with_ WAGNER.) + +WAGNER + +With what a feeling, thou great man, must thou +Receive the people’s honest veneration! +How lucky he, whose gifts his station +With such advantages endow! +Thou’rt shown to all the younger generation: +Each asks, and presses near to gaze; +The fiddle stops, the dance delays. +Thou goest, they stand in rows to see, +And all the caps are lifted high; +A little more, and they would bend the knee +As if the Holy Host came by. + +FAUST + +A few more steps ascend, as far as yonder stone!— +Here from our wandering will we rest contented. +Here, lost in thought, I’ve lingered oft alone, +When foolish fasts and prayers my life tormented. +Here, rich in hope and firm in faith, +With tears, wrung hands and sighs, I’ve striven, +The end of that far-spreading death +Entreating from the Lord of Heaven! +Now like contempt the crowd’s applauses seem: +Couldst thou but read, within mine inmost spirit, +How little now I deem, +That sire or son such praises merit! +My father’s was a sombre, brooding brain, +Which through the holy spheres of Nature groped and wandered, +And honestly, in his own fashion, pondered +With labor whimsical, and pain: +Who, in his dusky work-shop bending, +With proved adepts in company, +Made, from his recipes unending, +Opposing substances agree. +There was a Lion red, a wooer daring, +Within the Lily’s tepid bath espoused, +And both, tormented then by flame unsparing, +By turns in either bridal chamber housed. +If then appeared, with colors splendid, +The young Queen in her crystal shell, +This was the medicine—the patients’ woes soon ended, +And none demanded: who got well? +Thus we, our hellish boluses compounding, +Among these vales and hills surrounding, +Worse than the pestilence, have passed. +Thousands were done to death from poison of my giving; +And I must hear, by all the living, +The shameless murderers praised at last! + +WAGNER + +Why, therefore, yield to such depression? +A good man does his honest share +In exercising, with the strictest care, +The art bequeathed to his possession! +Dost thou thy father honor, as a youth? +Then may his teaching cheerfully impel thee: +Dost thou, as man, increase the stores of truth? +Then may thine own son afterwards excel thee. + +FAUST + +O happy he, who still renews +The hope, from Error’s deeps to rise forever! +That which one does not know, one needs to use; +And what one knows, one uses never. +But let us not, by such despondence, so +The fortune of this hour embitter! +Mark how, beneath the evening sunlight’s glow, +The green-embosomed houses glitter! +The glow retreats, done is the day of toil; +It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring; +Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil, +Upon its track to follow, follow soaring! +Then would I see eternal Evening gild +The silent world beneath me glowing, +On fire each mountain-peak, with peace each valley filled, +The silver brook to golden rivers flowing. +The mountain-chain, with all its gorges deep, +Would then no more impede my godlike motion; +And now before mine eyes expands the ocean +With all its bays, in shining sleep! +Yet, finally, the weary god is sinking; +The new-born impulse fires my mind,— +I hasten on, his beams eternal drinking, +The Day before me and the Night behind, +Above me heaven unfurled, the floor of waves beneath me,— +A glorious dream! though now the glories fade. +Alas! the wings that lift the mind no aid +Of wings to lift the body can bequeath me. +Yet in each soul is born the pleasure +Of yearning onward, upward and away, +When o’er our heads, lost in the vaulted azure, +The lark sends down his flickering lay,— +When over crags and piny highlands +The poising eagle slowly soars, +And over plains and lakes and islands +The crane sails by to other shores. + +WAGNER + +I’ve had, myself, at times, some odd caprices, +But never yet such impulse felt, as this is. +One soon fatigues, on woods and fields to look, +Nor would I beg the bird his wing to spare us: +How otherwise the mental raptures bear us +From page to page, from book to book! +Then winter nights take loveliness untold, +As warmer life in every limb had crowned you; +And when your hands unroll some parchment rare and old, +All Heaven descends, and opens bright around you! + +FAUST + +One impulse art thou conscious of, at best; +O, never seek to know the other! +Two souls, alas! reside within my breast, +And each withdraws from, and repels, its brother. +One with tenacious organs holds in love +And clinging lust the world in its embraces; +The other strongly sweeps, this dust above, +Into the high ancestral spaces. +If there be airy spirits near, +’Twixt Heaven and Earth on potent errands fleeing, +Let them drop down the golden atmosphere, +And bear me forth to new and varied being! +Yea, if a magic mantle once were mine, +To waft me o’er the world at pleasure, +I would not for the costliest stores of treasure— +Not for a monarch’s robe—the gift resign. + +WAGNER + +Invoke not thus the well-known throng, +Which through the firmament diffused is faring, +And danger thousand-fold, our race to wrong. +In every quarter is preparing. +Swift from the North the spirit-fangs so sharp +Sweep down, and with their barbéd points assail you; +Then from the East they come, to dry and warp +Your lungs, till breath and being fail you: +If from the Desert sendeth them the South, +With fire on fire your throbbing forehead crowning, +The West leads on a host, to cure the drouth +Only when meadow, field, and you are drowning. +They gladly hearken, prompt for injury,— +Gladly obey, because they gladly cheat us; +From Heaven they represent themselves to be, +And lisp like angels, when with lies they meet us. +But, let us go! ’Tis gray and dusky all: +The air is cold, the vapors fall. +At night, one learns his house to prize:— +Why stand you thus, with such astonished eyes? +What, in the twilight, can your mind so trouble? + +FAUST + +Seest thou the black dog coursing there, through corn and +stubble? + +WAGNER + +Long since: yet deemed him not important in the least. + +FAUST + +Inspect him close: for what tak’st thou the beast? + +WAGNER + +Why, for a poodle who has lost his master, +And scents about, his track to find. + +FAUST + +Seest thou the spiral circles, narrowing faster, +Which he, approaching, round us seems to wind? +A streaming trail of fire, if I see rightly, +Follows his path of mystery. + +WAGNER + +It may be that your eyes deceive you slightly; +Naught but a plain black poodle do I see. + +FAUST + +It seems to me that with enchanted cunning +He snares our feet, some future chain to bind. + +WAGNER + +I see him timidly, in doubt, around us running, +Since, in his master’s stead, two strangers doth he find. + +FAUST + +The circle narrows: he is near! + +WAGNER + +A dog thou seest, and not a phantom, here! +Behold him stop—upon his belly crawl—His +tail set wagging: canine habits, all! + +FAUST + +Come, follow us! Come here, at least! + +WAGNER + +’Tis the absurdest, drollest beast. +Stand still, and you will see him wait; +Address him, and he gambols straight; +If something’s lost, he’ll quickly bring it,— +Your cane, if in the stream you fling it. + +FAUST + +No doubt you’re right: no trace of mind, I own, +Is in the beast: I see but drill, alone. + +WAGNER + +The dog, when he’s well educated, +Is by the wisest tolerated. +Yes, he deserves your favor thoroughly,— +The clever scholar of the students, he! + +(_They pass in the city-gate_.) + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +III + + +THE STUDY + +FAUST + +(_Entering, with the poodle_.) + + Behind me, field and meadow sleeping, + I leave in deep, prophetic night, + Within whose dread and holy keeping + The better soul awakes to light. + The wild desires no longer win us, + The deeds of passion cease to chain; + The love of Man revives within us, + The love of God revives again. + +Be still, thou poodle; make not such racket and riot! +Why at the threshold wilt snuffing be? +Behind the stove repose thee in quiet! +My softest cushion I give to thee. +As thou, up yonder, with running and leaping +Amused us hast, on the mountain’s crest, + +So now I take thee into my keeping, +A welcome, but also a silent, guest. + + Ah, when, within our narrow chamber + The lamp with friendly lustre glows, + Flames in the breast each faded ember, + And in the heart, itself that knows. + Then Hope again lends sweet assistance, + And Reason then resumes her speech: + One yearns, the rivers of existence, + The very founts of Life, to reach. + +Snarl not, poodle! To the sound that rises, +The sacred tones that my soul embrace, +This bestial noise is out of place. +We are used to see, that Man despises +What he never comprehends, +And the Good and the Beautiful vilipends, +Finding them often hard to measure: +Will the dog, like man, snarl _his_ displeasure? + +But ah! I feel, though will thereto be stronger, +Contentment flows from out my breast no longer. +Why must the stream so soon run dry and fail us, +And burning thirst again assail us? +Therein I’ve borne so much probation! +And yet, this want may be supplied us; +We call the Supernatural to guide us; +We pine and thirst for Revelation, +Which nowhere worthier is, more nobly sent, +Than here, in our New Testament. +I feel impelled, its meaning to determine,— +With honest purpose, once for all, +The hallowed Original +To change to my beloved German. + +(_He opens a volume, and commences_.) +’Tis written: “In the Beginning was the _Word_.” +Here am I balked: who, now can help afford? +The _Word?_—impossible so high to rate it; +And otherwise must I translate it. +If by the Spirit I am truly taught. +Then thus: “In the Beginning was the _Thought_” +This first line let me weigh completely, +Lest my impatient pen proceed too fleetly. +Is it the _Thought_ which works, creates, indeed? +“In the Beginning was the _Power_,” I read. +Yet, as I write, a warning is suggested, +That I the sense may not have fairly tested. +The Spirit aids me: now I see the light! +“In the Beginning was the _Act_,” I write. + +If I must share my chamber with thee, +Poodle, stop that howling, prithee! +Cease to bark and bellow! +Such a noisy, disturbing fellow +I’ll no longer suffer near me. +One of us, dost hear me! +Must leave, I fear me. +No longer guest-right I bestow; +The door is open, art free to go. +But what do I see in the creature? +Is that in the course of nature? +Is’t actual fact? or Fancy’s shows? +How long and broad my poodle grows! +He rises mightily: +A canine form that cannot be! +What a spectre I’ve harbored thus! +He resembles a hippopotamus, +With fiery eyes, teeth terrible to see: +O, now am I sure of thee! +For all of thy half-hellish brood +The Key of Solomon is good. + +SPIRITS (_in the corridor_) + + Some one, within, is caught! + Stay without, follow him not! + Like the fox in a snare, + Quakes the old hell-lynx there. + Take heed—look about! + Back and forth hover, + Under and over, + And he’ll work himself out. + If your aid avail him, + Let it not fail him; + For he, without measure, + Has wrought for our pleasure. + +FAUST + +First, to encounter the beast, +The Words of the Four be addressed: + Salamander, shine glorious! + Wave, Undine, as bidden! + Sylph, be thou hidden! + Gnome, be laborious! + +Who knows not their sense +(These elements),— +Their properties +And power not sees,— +No mastery he inherits +Over the Spirits. + + Vanish in flaming ether, + Salamander! + Flow foamingly together, + Undine! + Shine in meteor-sheen, + Sylph! + Bring help to hearth and shelf. + Incubus! Incubus! + Step forward, and finish thus! + +Of the Four, no feature +Lurks in the creature. +Quiet he lies, and grins disdain: +Not yet, it seems, have I given him pain. +Now, to undisguise thee, +Hear me exorcise thee! +Art thou, my gay one, +Hell’s fugitive stray-one? +The sign witness now, +Before which they bow, +The cohorts of Hell! + +With hair all bristling, it begins to swell. + + Base Being, hearest thou? + Knowest and fearest thou + The One, unoriginate, + Named inexpressibly, + Through all Heaven impermeate, + Pierced irredressibly! + +Behind the stove still banned, +See it, an elephant, expand! +It fills the space entire, +Mist-like melting, ever faster. +’Tis enough: ascend no higher,— +Lay thyself at the feet of the Master! +Thou seest, not vain the threats I bring thee: +With holy fire I’ll scorch and sting thee! +Wait not to know +The threefold dazzling glow! +Wait not to know +The strongest art within my hands! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_while the vapor is dissipating, steps forth from behind the +stove, in the costume of a Travelling Scholar_.) +Why such a noise? What are my lord’s commands? + +FAUST + +This was the poodle’s real core, +A travelling scholar, then? The _casus_ is diverting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The learned gentleman I bow before: +You’ve made me roundly sweat, that’s certain! + +FAUST + +What is thy name? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A question small, it seems, +For one whose mind the Word so much despises; +Who, scorning all external gleams, +The depths of being only prizes. + +FAUST + +With all you gentlemen, the name’s a test, +Whereby the nature usually is expressed. +Clearly the latter it implies +In names like Beelzebub, Destroyer, Father of Lies. +Who art thou, then? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Part of that Power, not understood, +Which always wills the Bad, and always works the Good. + +FAUST + +What hidden sense in this enigma lies? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I am the Spirit that Denies! +And justly so: for all things, from the Void +Called forth, deserve to be destroyed: +’Twere better, then, were naught created. +Thus, all which you as Sin have rated,— +Destruction,—aught with Evil blent,— +That is my proper element. + +FAUST + +Thou nam’st thyself a part, yet show’st complete to me? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The modest truth I speak to thee. +If Man, that microcosmic fool, can see +Himself a whole so frequently, +Part of the Part am I, once All, in primal Night,— +Part of the Darkness which brought forth the Light, +The haughty Light, which now disputes the space, +And claims of Mother Night her ancient place. +And yet, the struggle fails; since Light, howe’er it weaves, +Still, fettered, unto bodies cleaves: +It flows from bodies, bodies beautifies; +By bodies is its course impeded; +And so, but little time is needed, +I hope, ere, as the bodies die, it dies! + +FAUST + +I see the plan thou art pursuing: +Thou canst not compass general ruin, +And hast on smaller scale begun. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And truly ’tis not much, when all is done. +That which to Naught is in resistance set,— +The Something of this clumsy world,—has yet, +With all that I have undertaken, +Not been by me disturbed or shaken: +From earthquake, tempest, wave, volcano’s brand, +Back into quiet settle sea and land! +And that damned stuff, the bestial, human brood,— +What use, in having that to play with? +How many have I made away with! +And ever circulates a newer, fresher blood. +It makes me furious, such things beholding: +From Water, Earth, and Air unfolding, +A thousand germs break forth and grow, +In dry, and wet, and warm, and chilly; +And had I not the Flame reserved, why, really, +There’s nothing special of my own to show! + +FAUST + +So, to the actively eternal +Creative force, in cold disdain +You now oppose the fist infernal, +Whose wicked clench is all in vain! +Some other labor seek thou rather, +Queer Son of Chaos, to begin! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Well, we’ll consider: thou canst gather +My views, when next I venture in. +Might I, perhaps, depart at present? + +FAUST + +Why thou shouldst ask, I don’t perceive. +Though our acquaintance is so recent, +For further visits thou hast leave. +The window’s here, the door is yonder; +A chimney, also, you behold. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I must confess that forth I may not wander, +My steps by one slight obstacle controlled,— +The wizard’s-foot, that on your threshold made is. + +FAUST + +The pentagram prohibits thee? +Why, tell me now, thou Son of Hades, +If that prevents, how cam’st thou in to me? +Could such a spirit be so cheated? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Inspect the thing: the drawing’s not completed. +The outer angle, you may see, +Is open left—the lines don’t fit it. + +FAUST + +Well,—Chance, this time, has fairly hit it! +And thus, thou’rt prisoner to me? +It seems the business has succeeded. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The poodle naught remarked, as after thee he speeded; +But other aspects now obtain: +The Devil can’t get out again. + +FAUST + +Try, then, the open window-pane! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +For Devils and for spectres this is law: +Where they have entered in, there also they withdraw. +The first is free to us; we’re governed by the second. + +FAUST + +In Hell itself, then, laws are reckoned? +That’s well! So might a compact be +Made with you gentlemen—and binding,—surely? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +All that is promised shall delight thee purely; +No skinflint bargain shalt thou see. +But this is not of swift conclusion; +We’ll talk about the matter soon. +And now, I do entreat this boon— +Leave to withdraw from my intrusion. + +FAUST + +One moment more I ask thee to remain, +Some pleasant news, at least, to tell me. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Release me, now! I soon shall come again; +Then thou, at will, mayst question and compel me. + +FAUST + +I have not snares around thee cast; +Thyself hast led thyself into the meshes. +Who traps the Devil, hold him fast! +Not soon a second time he’ll catch a prey so precious. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +An’t please thee, also I’m content to stay, +And serve thee in a social station; +But stipulating, that I may +With arts of mine afford thee recreation. + +FAUST + +Thereto I willingly agree, +If the diversion pleasant be. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My friend, thou’lt win, past all pretences, +More in this hour to soothe thy senses, +Than in the year’s monotony. +That which the dainty spirits sing thee, +The lovely pictures they shall bring thee, +Are more than magic’s empty show. +Thy scent will be to bliss invited; +Thy palate then with taste delighted, +Thy nerves of touch ecstatic glow! +All unprepared, the charm I spin: +We’re here together, so begin! + +SPIRITS + + Vanish, ye darking + Arches above him! + Loveliest weather, + Born of blue ether, + Break from the sky! + O that the darkling + Clouds had departed! + Starlight is sparkling, + Tranquiller-hearted + Suns are on high. + Heaven’s own children + In beauty bewildering, + Waveringly bending, + Pass as they hover; + Longing unending + Follows them over. + They, with their glowing + Garments, out-flowing, + Cover, in going, + Landscape and bower, + Where, in seclusion, + Lovers are plighted, + Lost in illusion. + Bower on bower! + Tendrils unblighted! + Lo! in a shower + Grapes that o’ercluster + Gush into must, or + Flow into rivers + Of foaming and flashing + Wine, that is dashing + Gems, as it boundeth + Down the high places, + And spreading, surroundeth + With crystalline spaces, + In happy embraces, + Blossoming forelands, + Emerald shore-lands! + And the winged races + Drink, and fly onward— + Fly ever sunward + To the enticing + Islands, that flatter, + Dipping and rising + Light on the water! + Hark, the inspiring + Sound of their quiring! + See, the entrancing + Whirl of their dancing! + All in the air are + Freer and fairer. + Some of them scaling + Boldly the highlands, + Others are sailing, + Circling the islands; + Others are flying; + Life-ward all hieing,— + All for the distant + Star of existent + Rapture and Love! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +He sleeps! Enough, ye fays! your airy number +Have sung him truly into slumber: +For this performance I your debtor prove.— +Not yet art thou the man, to catch the Fiend and hold him!— +With fairest images of dreams infold him, +Plunge him in seas of sweet untruth! +Yet, for the threshold’s magic which controlled him, +The Devil needs a rat’s quick tooth. +I use no lengthened invocation: +Here rustles one that soon will work my liberation. + +The lord of rats and eke of mice, +Of flies and bed-bugs, frogs and lice, +Summons thee hither to the door-sill, +To gnaw it where, with just a morsel +Of oil, he paints the spot for thee:— +There com’st thou, hopping on to me! +To work, at once! The point which made me craven +Is forward, on the ledge, engraven. +Another bite makes free the door: +So, dream thy dreams, O Faust, until we meet once more! + +FAUST _(awaking)_ + +Am I again so foully cheated? +Remains there naught of lofty spirit-sway, +But that a dream the Devil counterfeited, +And that a poodle ran away? + +[Illustration] + + + + +IV + + +THE STUDY + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +A knock? Come in! Again my quiet broken? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +’Tis I! + +FAUST + + Come in! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Thrice must the words be spoken. + +FAUST + +Come in, then! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Thus thou pleasest me. +I hope we’ll suit each other well; +For now, thy vapors to dispel, +I come, a squire of high degree, +In scarlet coat, with golden trimming, +A cloak in silken lustre swimming, +A tall cock’s-feather in my hat, +A long, sharp sword for show or quarrel,— +And I advise thee, brief and flat, +To don the self-same gay apparel, +That, from this den released, and free, +Life be at last revealed to thee! + +FAUST + +This life of earth, whatever my attire, +Would pain me in its wonted fashion. +Too old am I to play with passion; +Too young, to be without desire. +What from the world have I to gain? +Thou shalt abstain—renounce—refrain! +Such is the everlasting song +That in the ears of all men rings,— +That unrelieved, our whole life long, +Each hour, in passing, hoarsely sings. +In very terror I at morn awake, +Upon the verge of bitter weeping, +To see the day of disappointment break, +To no one hope of mine—not one—its promise keeping:— +That even each joy’s presentiment +With wilful cavil would diminish, +With grinning masks of life prevent +My mind its fairest work to finish! +Then, too, when night descends, how anxiously +Upon my couch of sleep I lay me: +There, also, comes no rest to me, +But some wild dream is sent to fray me. +The God that in my breast is owned +Can deeply stir the inner sources; +The God, above my powers enthroned, +He cannot change external forces. +So, by the burden of my days oppressed, +Death is desired, and Life a thing unblest! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And yet is never Death a wholly welcome guest. + +FAUST + +O fortunate, for whom, when victory glances, +The bloody laurels on the brow he bindeth! +Whom, after rapid, maddening dances, +In clasping maiden-arms he findeth! +O would that I, before that spirit-power, +Ravished and rapt from life, had sunken! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And yet, by some one, in that nightly hour, +A certain liquid was not drunken. + +FAUST + +Eavesdropping, ha! thy pleasure seems to be. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Omniscient am I not; yet much is known to me. + +FAUST + +Though some familiar tone, retrieving +My thoughts from torment, led me on, +And sweet, clear echoes came, deceiving +A faith bequeathed from Childhood’s dawn, +Yet now I curse whate’er entices +And snares the soul with visions vain; +With dazzling cheats and dear devices +Confines it in this cave of pain! +Cursed be, at once, the high ambition +Wherewith the mind itself deludes! +Cursed be the glare of apparition +That on the finer sense intrudes! +Cursed be the lying dream’s impression +Of name, and fame, and laurelled brow! +Cursed, all that flatters as possession, +As wife and child, as knave and plow! +Cursed Mammon be, when he with treasures +To restless action spurs our fate! +Cursed when, for soft, indulgent leisures, +He lays for us the pillows straight! +Cursed be the vine’s transcendent nectar,— +The highest favor Love lets fall! +Cursed, also, Hope!—cursed Faith, the spectre! +And cursed be Patience most of all! + +CHORUS OF SPIRITS (_invisible_) + + Woe! woe! + Thou hast it destroyed, + The beautiful world, + With powerful fist: + In ruin ’tis hurled, + By the blow of a demigod shattered! + The scattered + Fragments into the Void we carry, + Deploring + The beauty perished beyond restoring. + Mightier + For the children of men, + Brightlier + Build it again, + In thine own bosom build it anew! + Bid the new career + Commence, + With clearer sense, + And the new songs of cheer + Be sung thereto! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +These are the small dependants +Who give me attendance. +Hear them, to deeds and passion +Counsel in shrewd old-fashion! +Into the world of strife, +Out of this lonely life +That of senses and sap has betrayed thee, +They would persuade thee. +This nursing of the pain forego thee, +That, like a vulture, feeds upon thy breast! +The worst society thou find’st will show thee +Thou art a man among the rest. +But ’tis not meant to thrust +Thee into the mob thou hatest! +I am not one of the greatest, +Yet, wilt thou to me entrust +Thy steps through life, I’ll guide thee,— +Will willingly walk beside thee,— +Will serve thee at once and forever +With best endeavor, +And, if thou art satisfied, +Will as servant, slave, with thee abide. + +FAUST + +And what shall be my counter-service therefor? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The time is long: thou need’st not now insist. + +FAUST + +No—no! The Devil is an egotist, +And is not apt, without a why or wherefore, +“For God’s sake,” others to assist. +Speak thy conditions plain and clear! +With such a servant danger comes, I fear. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +_Here_, an unwearied slave, I’ll wear thy tether, +And to thine every nod obedient be: +When _There_ again we come together, +Then shalt thou do the same for me. + +FAUST + +The _There_ my scruples naught increases. +When thou hast dashed this world to pieces, +The other, then, its place may fill. +Here, on this earth, my pleasures have their sources; +Yon sun beholds my sorrows in his courses; +And when from these my life itself divorces, +Let happen all that can or will! +I’ll hear no more: ’tis vain to ponder +If there we cherish love or hate, +Or, in the spheres we dream of yonder, +A High and Low our souls await. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +In this sense, even, canst thou venture. +Come, bind thyself by prompt indenture, +And thou mine arts with joy shalt see: +What no man ever saw, I’ll give to thee. + +FAUST + +Canst thou, poor Devil, give me whatsoever? +When was a human soul, in its supreme endeavor, +E’er understood by such as thou? +Yet, hast thou food which never satiates, now,— +The restless, ruddy gold hast thou, +That runs, quicksilver-like, one’s fingers through,— +A game whose winnings no man ever knew,— +A maid that, even from my breast, +Beckons my neighbor with her wanton glances, +And Honor’s godlike zest, +The meteor that a moment dances,— +Show me the fruits that, ere they’re gathered, rot, +And trees that daily with new leafage clothe them! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Such a demand alarms me not: +Such treasures have I, and can show them. +But still the time may reach us, good my friend. +When peace we crave and more luxurious diet. + +FAUST + +When on an idler’s bed I stretch myself in quiet. +There let, at once, my record end! +Canst thou with lying flattery rule me, +Until, self-pleased, myself I see,— +Canst thou with rich enjoyment fool me, +Let that day be the last for me! +The bet I offer. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + Done! + +FAUST + And heartily! +When thus I hail the Moment flying: +“Ah, still delay—thou art so fair!” +Then bind me in thy bonds undying, +My final ruin then declare! +Then let the death-bell chime the token. +Then art thou from thy service free! +The clock may stop, the hand be broken, +Then Time be finished unto me! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Consider well: my memory good is rated. + +FAUST + +Thou hast a perfect right thereto. +My powers I have not rashly estimated: +A slave am I, whate’er I do— +If thine, or whose? ’tis needless to debate it. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then at the Doctors’-banquet I, to-day, +Will as a servant wait behind thee. +But one thing more! Beyond all risk to bind thee, +Give me a line or two, I pray. + +FAUST + +Demand’st thou, Pedant, too, a document? +Hast never known a man, nor proved his word’s intent? +Is’t not enough, that what I speak to-day +Shall stand, with all my future days agreeing? +In all its tides sweeps not the world away, +And shall a promise bind my being? +Yet this delusion in our hearts we bear: +Who would himself therefrom deliver? +Blest he, whose bosom Truth makes pure and fair! +No sacrifice shall he repent of ever. +Nathless a parchment, writ and stamped with care, +A spectre is, which all to shun endeavor. +The word, alas! dies even in the pen, +And wax and leather keep the lordship then. +What wilt from me, Base Spirit, say?— +Brass, marble, parchment, paper, clay? +The terms with graver, quill, or chisel, stated? +I freely leave the choice to thee. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why heat thyself, thus instantly, +With eloquence exaggerated? +Each leaf for such a pact is good; +And to subscribe thy name thou’lt take a drop of blood. + +FAUST + +If thou therewith art fully satisfied, +So let us by the farce abide. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Blood is a juice of rarest quality. + +FAUST + +Fear not that I this pact shall seek to sever? +The promise that I make to thee +Is just the sum of my endeavor. +I have myself inflated all too high; +My proper place is thy estate: +The Mighty Spirit deigns me no reply, +And Nature shuts on me her gate. +The thread of Thought at last is broken, +And knowledge brings disgust unspoken. +Let us the sensual deeps explore, +To quench the fervors of glowing passion! +Let every marvel take form and fashion +Through the impervious veil it wore! +Plunge we in Time’s tumultuous dance, +In the rush and roll of Circumstance! +Then may delight and distress, +And worry and success, +Alternately follow, as best they can: +Restless activity proves the man! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +For you no bound, no term is set. +Whether you everywhere be trying, +Or snatch a rapid bliss in flying, +May it agree with you, what you get! +Only fall to, and show no timid balking. + +FAUST + +But thou hast heard, ’tis not of joy we’re talking. +I take the wildering whirl, enjoyment’s keenest pain, +Enamored hate, exhilarant disdain. +My bosom, of its thirst for knowledge sated, +Shall not, henceforth, from any pang be wrested, +And all of life for all mankind created +Shall be within mine inmost being tested: +The highest, lowest forms my soul shall borrow, +Shall heap upon itself their bliss and sorrow, +And thus, my own sole self to all their selves expanded, +I too, at last, shall with them all be stranded! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Believe me, who for many a thousand year +The same tough meat have chewed and tested, +That from the cradle to the bier +No man the ancient leaven has digested! +Trust one of us, this Whole supernal +Is made but for a God’s delight! +_He_ dwells in splendor single and eternal, +But _us_ he thrusts in darkness, out of sight, +And _you_ he dowers with Day and Night. + +FAUST + +Nay, but I will! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A good reply! +One only fear still needs repeating: +The art is long, the time is fleeting. +Then let thyself be taught, say I! +Go, league thyself with a poet, +Give the rein to his imagination, +Then wear the crown, and show it, +Of the qualities of his creation,— +The courage of the lion’s breed, +The wild stag’s speed, +The Italian’s fiery blood, +The North’s firm fortitude! +Let him find for thee the secret tether +That binds the Noble and Mean together. +And teach thy pulses of youth and pleasure +To love by rule, and hate by measure! +I’d like, myself, such a one to see: +Sir Microcosm his name should be. + +FAUST + +What am I, then, if ’tis denied my part +The crown of all humanity to win me, +Whereto yearns every sense within me? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why, on the whole, thou’rt—what thou art. +Set wigs of million curls upon thy head, to raise thee, +Wear shoes an ell in height,—the truth betrays thee, +And thou remainest—what thou art. + +FAUST + +I feel, indeed, that I have made the treasure +Of human thought and knowledge mine, in vain; +And if I now sit down in restful leisure, +No fount of newer strength is in my brain: +I am no hair’s-breadth more in height, +Nor nearer, to the Infinite, + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Good Sir, you see the facts precisely +As they are seen by each and all. +We must arrange them now, more wisely, +Before the joys of life shall pall. +Why, Zounds! Both hands and feet are, truly— +And head and virile forces—thine: +Yet all that I indulge in newly, +Is’t thence less wholly mine? +If I’ve six stallions in my stall, +Are not their forces also lent me? +I speed along, completest man of all, +As though my legs were four-and-twenty. +Take hold, then! let reflection rest, +And plunge into the world with zest! +I say to thee, a speculative wight +Is like a beast on moorlands lean, +That round and round some fiend misleads to evil plight, +While all about lie pastures fresh and green. + +FAUST + +Then how shall we begin? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We’ll try a wider sphere. +What place of martyrdom is here! +Is’t life, I ask, is’t even prudence, +To bore thyself and bore the students? +Let Neighbor Paunch to that attend! +Why plague thyself with threshing straw forever? +The best thou learnest, in the end +Thou dar’st not tell the youngsters—never! +I hear one’s footsteps, hither steering. + +FAUST +To see him now I have no heart. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +So long the poor boy waits a hearing, +He must not unconsoled depart. +Thy cap and mantle straightway lend me! +I’ll play the comedy with art. + +(_He disguises himself_.) + +My wits, be certain, will befriend me. +But fifteen minutes’ time is all I need; +For our fine trip, meanwhile, prepare thyself with speed! + +[_Exit_ FAUST. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_In_ FAUST’S _long mantle_.) + +Reason and Knowledge only thou despise, +The highest strength in man that lies! +Let but the Lying Spirit bind thee +With magic works and shows that blind thee, +And I shall have thee fast and sure!— +Fate such a bold, untrammelled spirit gave him, +As forwards, onwards, ever must endure; +Whose over-hasty impulse drave him +Past earthly joys he might secure. +Dragged through the wildest life, will I enslave him, +Through flat and stale indifference; +With struggling, chilling, checking, so deprave him +That, to his hot, insatiate sense, +The dream of drink shall mock, but never lave him: +Refreshment shall his lips in vain implore— +Had he not made himself the Devil’s, naught could save +him, +Still were he lost forevermore! + +(_A_ STUDENT _enters_.) + +STUDENT + +A short time, only, am I here, +And come, devoted and sincere, +To greet and know the man of fame, +Whom men to me with reverence name. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Your courtesy doth flatter me: +You see a man, as others be. +Have you, perchance, elsewhere begun? + +STUDENT + +Receive me now, I pray, as one +Who comes to you with courage good, +Somewhat of cash, and healthy blood: +My mother was hardly willing to let me; +But knowledge worth having I fain would get me. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then you have reached the right place now. + +STUDENT + +I’d like to leave it, I must avow; +I find these walls, these vaulted spaces +Are anything but pleasant places. +Tis all so cramped and close and mean; +One sees no tree, no glimpse of green, +And when the lecture-halls receive me, +Seeing, hearing, and thinking leave me. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +All that depends on habitude. +So from its mother’s breasts a child +At first, reluctant, takes its food, +But soon to seek them is beguiled. +Thus, at the breasts of Wisdom clinging, +Thou’lt find each day a greater rapture bringing. + +STUDENT + +I’ll hang thereon with joy, and freely drain them; +But tell me, pray, the proper means to gain them. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Explain, before you further speak, +The special faculty you seek. + +STUDENT + +I crave the highest erudition; +And fain would make my acquisition +All that there is in Earth and Heaven, +In Nature and in Science too. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Here is the genuine path for you; +Yet strict attention must be given. + +STUDENT + +Body and soul thereon I’ll wreak; +Yet, truly, I’ve some inclination +On summer holidays to seek +A little freedom and recreation. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Use well your time! It flies so swiftly from us; +But time through order may be won, I promise. +So, Friend (my views to briefly sum), +First, the _collegium logicum_. +There will your mind be drilled and braced, +As if in Spanish boots ’twere laced, +And thus, to graver paces brought, +’Twill plod along the path of thought, +Instead of shooting here and there, +A will-o’-the-wisp in murky air. +Days will be spent to bid you know, +What once you did at a single blow, +Like eating and drinking, free and strong,— +That one, two, three! thereto belong. +Truly the fabric of mental fleece +Resembles a weaver’s masterpiece, +Where a thousand threads one treadle throws, +Where fly the shuttles hither and thither. +Unseen the threads are knit together. +And an infinite combination grows. +Then, the philosopher steps in +And shows, no otherwise it could have been: +The first was so, the second so, +Therefore the third and fourth are so; +Were not the first and second, then +The third and fourth had never been. +The scholars are everywhere believers, +But never succeed in being weavers. +He who would study organic existence, +First drives out the soul with rigid persistence; +Then the parts in his hand he may hold and class, +But the spiritual link is lost, alas! +_Encheiresin natures_, this Chemistry names, +Nor knows how herself she banters and blames! + +STUDENT + +I cannot understand you quite. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Your mind will shortly be set aright, +When you have learned, all things reducing, +To classify them for your using. + +STUDENT + +I feel as stupid, from all you’ve said, +As if a mill-wheel whirled in my head! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And after—first and foremost duty—Of +Metaphysics learn the use and beauty! +See that you most profoundly gain +What does not suit the human brain! +A splendid word to serve, you’ll find +For what goes in—or won’t go in—your mind. +But first, at least this half a year, +To order rigidly adhere; +Five hours a day, you understand, +And when the clock strikes, be on hand! +Prepare beforehand for your part +With paragraphs all got by heart, +So you can better watch, and look +That naught is said but what is in the book: +Yet in thy writing as unwearied be, +As did the Holy Ghost dictate to thee! + +STUDENT + +No need to tell me twice to do it! +I think, how useful ’tis to write; +For what one has, in black and white, +One carries home and then goes through it. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yet choose thyself a faculty! + +STUDENT + +I cannot reconcile myself to Jurisprudence. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Nor can I therefore greatly blame you students: +I know what science this has come to be. +All rights and laws are still transmitted +Like an eternal sickness of the race,— +From generation unto generation fitted, +And shifted round from place to place. +Reason becomes a sham, Beneficence a worry: +Thou art a grandchild, therefore woe to thee! +The right born with us, ours in verity, +This to consider, there’s, alas! no hurry. + +STUDENT + +My own disgust is strengthened by your speech: +O lucky he, whom you shall teach! +I’ve almost for Theology decided. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I should not wish to see you here misguided: +For, as regards this science, let me hint +’Tis very hard to shun the false direction; +There’s so much secret poison lurking in ’t, +So like the medicine, it baffles your detection. +Hear, therefore, one alone, for that is best, in sooth, +And simply take your master’s words for truth. +On _words_ let your attention centre! +Then through the safest gate you’ll enter +The temple-halls of Certainty. + +STUDENT + +Yet in the word must some idea be. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Of course! But only shun too over-sharp a tension, +For just where fails the comprehension, +A word steps promptly in as deputy. +With words ’tis excellent disputing; +Systems to words ’tis easy suiting; +On words ’tis excellent believing; +No word can ever lose a jot from thieving. + +STUDENT + +Pardon! With many questions I detain you. +Yet must I trouble you again. +Of Medicine I still would fain +Hear one strong word that might explain you. +Three years is but a little space. +And, God! who can the field embrace? +If one some index could be shown, +’Twere easier groping forward, truly. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_aside_) + +I’m tired enough of this dry tone,— +Must play the Devil again, and fully. + +(_Aloud_) + +To grasp the spirit of Medicine is easy: +Learn of the great and little world your fill, +To let it go at last, so please ye, +Just as God will! +In vain that through the realms of science you may drift; +Each one learns only—just what learn he can: +Yet he who grasps the Moment’s gift, +He is the proper man. +Well-made you are, ’tis not to be denied, +The rest a bold address will win you; +If you but in yourself confide, +At once confide all others in you. +To lead the women, learn the special feeling! +Their everlasting aches and groans, +In thousand tones, +Have all one source, one mode of healing; +And if your acts are half discreet, +You’ll always have them at your feet. +A title first must draw and interest them, +And show that yours all other arts exceeds; +Then, as a greeting, you are free to touch and test them, +While, thus to do, for years another pleads. +You press and count the pulse’s dances, +And then, with burning sidelong glances, +You clasp the swelling hips, to see +If tightly laced her corsets be. + +STUDENT + +That’s better, now! The How and Where, one sees. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My worthy friend, gray are all theories, +And green alone Life’s golden tree. + +STUDENT + +I swear to you, ’tis like a dream to me. +Might I again presume, with trust unbounded, +To hear your wisdom thoroughly expounded? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Most willingly, to what extent I may. + +STUDENT + +I cannot really go away: +Allow me that my album first I reach you,— +Grant me this favor, I beseech you! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Assuredly. + +(_He writes, and returns the book_.) + +STUDENT (_reads_) + +_Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum_. +(_Closes the book with reverence, and withdraws_) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Follow the ancient text, and the snake thou wast ordered to trample! +With all thy likeness to God, thou’lt yet be a sorry example! + +(FAUST _enters_.) + +FAUST + +Now, whither shall we go? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +As best it pleases thee. +The little world, and then the great, we’ll see. +With what delight, what profit winning, +Shalt thou sponge through the term beginning! + +FAUST + +Yet with the flowing beard I wear, +Both ease and grace will fail me there. +The attempt, indeed, were a futile strife; +I never could learn the ways of life. +I feel so small before others, and thence +Should always find embarrassments. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My friend, thou soon shalt lose all such misgiving: +Be thou but self-possessed, thou hast the art of living! + +FAUST + +How shall we leave the house, and start? +Where hast thou servant, coach and horses? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We’ll spread this cloak with proper art, +Then through the air direct our courses. +But only, on so bold a flight, +Be sure to have thy luggage light. +A little burning air, which I shall soon prepare us, +Above the earth will nimbly bear us, +And, if we’re light, we’ll travel swift and clear: +I gratulate thee on thy new career! + +[Illustration] + + + + +V + + +AUERBACH’S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG +CAROUSAL OF JOLLY COMPANIONS + +FROSCH + +Is no one laughing? no one drinking? +I’ll teach you how to grin, I’m thinking. +To-day you’re like wet straw, so tame; +And usually you’re all aflame. + +BRANDER + +Now that’s your fault; from you we nothing see, +No beastliness and no stupidity. + +FROSCH + +(_Pours a glass of wine over_ BRANDER’S _head_.) +There’s both together! + +BRANDER + +Twice a swine! + +FROSCH + +You wanted them: I’ve given you mine. + +SIEBEL + +Turn out who quarrels—out the door! +With open throat sing chorus, drink and roar! +Up! holla! ho! + +ALTMAYER + +Woe’s me, the fearful bellow! +Bring cotton, quick! He’s split my ears, that fellow. + +SIEBEL + +When the vault echoes to the song, +One first perceives the bass is deep and strong. + +FROSCH + +Well said! and out with him that takes the least offence! +_Ah, tara, lara da_! + +ALTMAYER + +_Ah, tara, lara, da_! + +FROSCH + +The throats are tuned, commence! +(_Sings_.) +_The dear old holy Roman realm, +How does it hold together_? + +BRANDER + +A nasty song! Fie! a political song— +A most offensive song! Thank God, each morning, therefore, +That you have not the Roman realm to care for! +At least, I hold it so much gain for me, +That I nor Chancellor nor Kaiser be. +Yet also we must have a ruling head, I hope, +And so we’ll choose ourselves a Pope. +You know the quality that can +Decide the choice, and elevate the man. + +FROSCH (_sings_) + + _Soar up, soar up, Dame Nightingale! + Ten thousand times my sweetheart hail!_ + +SIEBEL + +No, greet my sweetheart not! I tell you, I’ll resent it. + +FROSCH + +My sweetheart greet and kiss! I dare you to prevent it! + + (_Sings_.) + + _Draw the latch! the darkness makes: + Draw the latch! the lover wakes. + Shut the latch! the morning breaks_. + +SIEBEL + +Yes, sing away, sing on, and praise, and brag of her! +I’ll wait my proper time for laughter: +Me by the nose she led, and now she’ll lead you after. +Her paramour should be an ugly gnome, +Where four roads cross, in wanton play to meet her: +An old he-goat, from Blocksberg coming home, +Should his good-night in lustful gallop bleat her! +A fellow made of genuine flesh and blood +Is for the wench a deal too good. +Greet her? Not I: unless, when meeting, +To smash her windows be a greeting! + +BRANDER (_pounding on the table_) + +Attention! Hearken now to me! +Confess, Sirs, I know how to live. +Enamored persons here have we, +And I, as suits their quality, +Must something fresh for their advantage give. +Take heed! ’Tis of the latest cut, my strain, +And all strike in at each refrain! + + (_He sings_.) + + There was a rat in the cellar-nest, + Whom fat and butter made smoother: + He had a paunch beneath his vest + Like that of Doctor Luther. + The cook laid poison cunningly, + And then as sore oppressed was he + As if he had love in his bosom. + + CHORUS (_shouting_) + + As if he had love in his bosom! + + BRANDER + + He ran around, he ran about, + His thirst in puddles laving; + He gnawed and scratched the house throughout. + But nothing cured his raving. + He whirled and jumped, with torment mad, + And soon enough the poor beast had, + As if he had love in his bosom. + + CHORUS + + As if he had love in his bosom! + + BRANDER + + And driven at last, in open day, + He ran into the kitchen, + Fell on the hearth, and squirming lay, + In the last convulsion twitching. + Then laughed the murderess in her glee: + “Ha! ha! he’s at his last gasp,” said she, + “As if he had love in his bosom!” + +CHORUS + + As if he had love in his bosom! + +SIEBEL + +How the dull fools enjoy the matter! +To me it is a proper art +Poison for such poor rats to scatter. + +BRANDER + +Perhaps you’ll warmly take their part? + +ALTMAYER + +The bald-pate pot-belly I have noted: +Misfortune tames him by degrees; +For in the rat by poison bloated +His own most natural form he sees. + +FAUST AND MEPHISTOPHELES + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Before all else, I bring thee hither +Where boon companions meet together, +To let thee see how smooth life runs away. +Here, for the folk, each day’s a holiday: +With little wit, and ease to suit them, +They whirl in narrow, circling trails, +Like kittens playing with their tails? +And if no headache persecute them, +So long the host may credit give, +They merrily and careless live. + +BRANDER + +The fact is easy to unravel, +Their air’s so odd, they’ve just returned from travel: +A single hour they’ve not been here. + +FROSCH + +You’ve verily hit the truth! Leipzig to me is dear: +Paris in miniature, how it refines its people! + +SIEBEL + +Who are the strangers, should you guess? + +FROSCH + +Let me alone! I’ll set them first to drinking, +And then, as one a child’s tooth draws, with cleverness, +I’ll worm their secret out, I’m thinking. +They’re of a noble house, that’s very clear: +Haughty and discontented they appear. + +BRANDER + +They’re mountebanks, upon a revel. + +ALTMAYER + +Perhaps. + +FROSCH + +Look out, I’ll smoke them now! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Not if he had them by the neck, I vow, +Would e’er these people scent the Devil! + +FAUST +Fair greeting, gentlemen! + +SIEBEL + +Our thanks: we give the same. +(_Murmurs, inspecting_ MEPHISTOPHELES _from the side_.) +In one foot is the fellow lame? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Is it permitted that we share your leisure? +In place of cheering drink, which one seeks vainly here, +Your company shall give us pleasure. + +ALTMAYER + +A most fastidious person you appear. + + +FROSCH + +No doubt ’twas late when you from Rippach started? +And supping there with Hans occasioned your delay? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We passed, without a call, to-day. +At our last interview, before we parted +Much of his cousins did he speak, entreating +That we should give to each his kindly greeting. + +(_He bows to_ FROSCH.) + +ALTMAYER (_aside_) + +You have it now! he understands. + +SIEBEL + +A knave sharp-set! + +FROSCH + +Just wait awhile: I’ll have him yet. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +If I am right, we heard the sound +Of well-trained voices, singing chorus; +And truly, song must here rebound +Superbly from the arches o’er us. + +FROSCH + +Are you, perhaps, a virtuoso? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O no! my wish is great, my power is only so-so. + +ALTMAYER + +Give us a song! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +If you desire, a number. + +SIEBEL + +So that it be a bran-new strain! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We’ve just retraced our way from. Spain, +The lovely land of wine, and song, and slumber. + +(_Sings_.) + +There was a king once reigning, +Who had a big black flea— + +FROSCH + +Hear, hear! A flea! D’ye rightly take the jest? +I call a flea a tidy guest. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_sings_) + + There was a king once reigning, + Who had a big black flea, + And loved him past explaining, + As his own son were he. + He called his man of stitches; + The tailor came straightway: + Here, measure the lad for breeches. + And measure his coat, I say! + +BRANDER + +But mind, allow the tailor no caprices: +Enjoin upon him, as his head is dear, +To most exactly measure, sew and shear, +So that the breeches have no creases! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + In silk and velvet gleaming + He now was wholly drest— + Had a coat with ribbons streaming, + A cross upon his breast. + He had the first of stations, + A minister’s star and name; + And also all his relations + Great lords at court became. + + And the lords and ladies of honor + Were plagued, awake and in bed; + The queen she got them upon her, + The maids were bitten and bled. + And they did not dare to brush them, + Or scratch them, day or night: + We crack them and we crush them, + At once, whene’er they bite. + + CHORUS (_shouting_) + + We crack them and we crush them, + At once, whene’er they bite! + +FROSCH +Bravo! bravo! that was fine. + +SIEBEL + +Every flea may it so befall! + +BRANDER + +Point your fingers and nip them all! + +ALTMAYER + +Hurrah for Freedom! Hurrah for wine! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I fain would drink with you, my glass to Freedom clinking, +If ’twere a better wine that here I see you drinking. + +SIEBEL + +Don’t let us hear that speech again! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Did I not fear the landlord might complain, +I’d treat these worthy guests, with pleasure, +To some from out our cellar’s treasure. + +SIEBEL + +Just treat, and let the landlord me arraign! + +FROSCH + +And if the wine be good, our praises shall be ample. +But do not give too very small a sample; +For, if its quality I decide, +With a good mouthful I must be supplied. + +ALTMAYER (_aside_) + +They’re from the Rhine! I guessed as much, before. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Bring me a gimlet here! + +BRANDER + +What shall therewith be done? +You’ve not the casks already at the door? + +ALTMAYER + +Yonder, within the landlord’s box of tools, there’s one! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_takes the gimlet_) + +(_To_ FROSCH.) + +Now, give me of your taste some intimation. + +FROSCH + +How do you mean? Have you so many kinds? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The choice is free: make up your minds. + +ALTMAYER (_to_ FROSCH) + +Aha! you lick your chops, from sheer anticipation. + +FROSCH + +Good! if I have the choice, so let the wine be Rhenish! +Our Fatherland can best the sparkling cup replenish. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_boring a hole in the edge of the table, at the place where_ +FROSCH _sits_) + +Get me a little wax, to make the stoppers, quick! + +ALTMAYER + +Ah! I perceive a juggler’s trick. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ BRANDER) + +And you? + +BRANDER + +Champagne shall be my wine, +And let it sparkle fresh and fine! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_bores: in the meantime one has made the wax stoppers, and +plugged the holes with them_.) + +BRANDER + +What’s foreign one can’t always keep quite clear of, +For good things, oft, are not so near; +A German can’t endure the French to see or hear of, +Yet drinks their wines with hearty cheer. + +SIEBEL + +(_as_ MEPHISTOPHELES _approaches his seat_) +For me, I grant, sour wine is out of place; +Fill up my glass with sweetest, will you? + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_boring_) + +Tokay shall flow at once, to fill you! + +ALTMAYER + +No—look me, Sirs, straight in the face! +I see you have your fun at our expense. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O no! with gentlemen of such pretence, +That were to venture far, indeed. +Speak out, and make your choice with speed! +With what a vintage can I serve you? + +ALTMAYER + +With any—only satisfy our need. + +(_After the holes have been bored and plugged_) + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_with singular gestures_) + + Grapes the vine-stem bears, + Horns the he-goat wears! + The grapes are juicy, the vines are wood, + The wooden table gives wine as good! + Into the depths of Nature peer,— + Only believe there’s a miracle here! + +Now draw the stoppers, and drink your fill! + +ALL + +(_as they draw out the stoppers, and the wine which has been +desired flows into the glass of each)_ + +O beautiful fountain, that flows at will! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But have a care that you nothing spill! + +(_They drink repeatedly_.) + +ALL (_sing_) + + As ’twere five hundred hogs, we feel + So cannibalic jolly! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +See, now, the race is happy—it is free! + +FAUST + +To leave them is my inclination. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Take notice, first! their bestiality +Will make a brilliant demonstration. + +SIEBEL + +(_drinks carelessly: the wine spills upon the earth, and turns to +flame_) + +Help! Fire! Help! Hell-fire is sent! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_charming away the flame)_ + +Be quiet, friendly element! + +(_To the revellers_) + +A bit of purgatory ’twas for this time, merely. + +SIEBEL + +What mean you? Wait!—you’ll pay for’t dearly! +You’ll know us, to your detriment. + +FROSCH + +Don’t try that game a second time upon us! + +ALTMAYER + +I think we’d better send him packing quietly. + +SIEBEL + +What, Sir! you dare to make so free, +And play your hocus-pocus on us! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Be still, old wine-tub. + +SIEBEL + +Broomstick, you! +You face it out, impertinent and heady? + +BRANDER + +Just wait! a shower of blows is ready. + +ALTMAYER + +(_draws a stopper out of the table: fire flies in his face_.) +I burn! I burn! + +SIEBEL + +’Tis magic! Strike— +The knave is outlawed! Cut him as you like! +(_They draw their knives, and rush upon_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_with solemn gestures_) + + False word and form of air, + Change place, and sense ensnare! + Be here—and there! + +(_They stand amazed and look at each other_.) + +ALTMAYER + +Where am I? What a lovely land! + +FROSCH + +Vines? Can I trust my eyes? + +SIEBEL + +And purple grapes at hand! + +BRANDER + +Here, over this green arbor bending, +See what a vine! what grapes depending! + +(_He takes_ SIEBEL _by the nose: the others do the same reciprocally, +and raise their knives_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_as above_) + +Loose, Error, from their eyes the band, +And how the Devil jests, be now enlightened! + +(_He disappears with_ FAUST: _the revellers start and separate_.) + +SIEBEL + +What happened? + +ALTMAYER + +How? + +FROSCH + +Was that your nose I tightened? + +BRANDER (_to_ SIEBEL) + +And yours that still I have in hand? + +ALTMAYER + +It was a blow that went through every limb! +Give me a chair! I sink! my senses swim. + +FROSCH + +But what has happened, tell me now? + +SIEBEL + +Where is he? If I catch the scoundrel hiding, +He shall not leave alive, I vow. + +ALTMAYER + +I saw him with these eyes upon a wine-cask riding +Out of the cellar-door, just now. +Still in my feet the fright like lead is weighing. +(_He turns towards the table_.) +Why! If the fount of wine should still be playing? + +SIEBEL + +’Twas all deceit, and lying, false design! + +FROSCH + +And yet it seemed as I were drinking wine. + +BRANDER + +But with the grapes how was it, pray? + +ALTMAYER + +Shall one believe no miracles, just say! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +VI + + +WITCHES’ KITCHEN + +(_Upon a low hearth stands a great caldron, under which a fire +is burning. Various figures appear in the vapors which +rise from the caldron. An ape sits beside it, skims it, and +watches lest it boil over. The he-ape, with the young +ones, sits near and warms himself. Ceiling and walls are +covered with the most fantastic witch-implements_.) + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +These crazy signs of witches’ craft repel me! +I shall recover, dost thou tell me, +Through this insane, chaotic play? +From an old hag shall I demand assistance? +And will her foul mess take away +Full thirty years from my existence? +Woe’s me, canst thou naught better find! +Another baffled hope must be lamented: +Has Nature, then, and has a noble mind +Not any potent balsam yet invented? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Once more, my friend, thou talkest sensibly. +There is, to make thee young, a simpler mode and apter; +But in another book ’tis writ for thee, +And is a most eccentric chapter. + +FAUST + +Yet will I know it. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Good! the method is revealed +Without or gold or magic or physician. +Betake thyself to yonder field, +There hoe and dig, as thy condition; +Restrain thyself, thy sense and will +Within a narrow sphere to flourish; +With unmixed food thy body nourish; +Live with the ox as ox, and think it not a theft +That thou manur’st the acre which thou reapest;— +That, trust me, is the best mode left, +Whereby for eighty years thy youth thou keepest! + +FAUST + +I am not used to that; I cannot stoop to try it— +To take the spade in hand, and ply it. +The narrow being suits me not at all. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then to thine aid the witch must call. + +FAUST + +Wherefore the hag, and her alone? +Canst thou thyself not brew the potion? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That were a charming sport, I own: +I’d build a thousand bridges meanwhile, I’ve a notion. +Not Art and Science serve, alone; +Patience must in the work be shown. +Long is the calm brain active in creation; +Time, only, strengthens the fine fermentation. +And all, belonging thereunto, +Is rare and strange, howe’er you take it: +The Devil taught the thing, ’tis true, +And yet the Devil cannot make it. +(_Perceiving the Animals_) +See, what a delicate race they be! +That is the maid! the man is he! +(_To the Animals_) +It seems the mistress has gone away? + +THE ANIMALS + +Carousing, to-day! +Off and about, +By the chimney out! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What time takes she for dissipating? + +THE ANIMALS + +While we to warm our paws are waiting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +How findest thou the tender creatures? + +FAUST + +Absurder than I ever yet did see. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why, just such talk as this, for me, +Is that which has the most attractive features! + +(_To the Animals_) + +But tell me now, ye cursed puppets, +Why do ye stir the porridge so? + +THE ANIMALS + +We’re cooking watery soup for beggars. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then a great public you can show. + +THE HE-APE + +(_comes up and fawns on_ MEPHISTOPHELES) + + O cast thou the dice! + Make me rich in a trice, + Let me win in good season! + Things are badly controlled, + And had I but gold, + So had I my reason. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +How would the ape be sure his luck enhances. +Could he but try the lottery’s chances! + +(_In the meantime the young apes have been playing with a +large ball, which they now roll forward_.) + +THE HE-APE + + The world’s the ball: + Doth rise and fall, + And roll incessant: + Like glass doth ring, + A hollow thing,— + How soon will’t spring, + And drop, quiescent? + Here bright it gleams, + Here brighter seems: + I live at present! + Dear son, I say, + Keep thou away! + Thy doom is spoken! + ’Tis made of clay, + And will be broken. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What means the sieve? + +THE HE-APE (_taking it down_) + + Wert thou the thief, + I’d know him and shame him. + +(_He runs to the_ SHE-APE, _and lets her look through it_.) + + Look through the sieve! + Know’st thou the thief, + And darest not name him? + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_approaching the fire)_ + +And what’s this pot? + +HE-APE AND SHE-APE + + The fool knows it not! + He knows not the pot, + He knows not the kettle! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Impertinent beast! + +THE HE-APE + +Take the brush here, at least, +And sit down on the settle! + +(_He invites_ MEPHISTOPHELES _to sit down_.) + +FAUST + +(_who during all this time has been standing before a mirror, +now approaching and now retreating from it_) + +What do I see? What heavenly form revealed +Shows through the glass from Magic’s fair dominions! +O lend me, Love, the swiftest of thy pinions, +And bear me to her beauteous field! +Ah, if I leave this spot with fond designing, +If I attempt to venture near, +Dim, as through gathering mist, her charms appear!— +A woman’s form, in beauty shining! +Can woman, then, so lovely be? +And must I find her body, there reclining, +Of all the heavens the bright epitome? +Can Earth with such a thing be mated? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why, surely, if a God first plagues Himself six days, +Then, self-contented, _Bravo_! says, +Must something clever be created. +This time, thine eyes be satiate! +I’ll yet detect thy sweetheart and ensnare her, +And blest is he, who has the lucky fate, +Some day, as bridegroom, home to bear her. + +(FAUST _gazes continually in the mirror_. MEPHISTOPHELES, +_stretching himself out on the settle, and playing with the +brush, continues to speak_.) + +So sit I, like the King upon his throne: +I hold the sceptre, here,—and lack the crown alone. + +THE ANIMALS + +(_who up to this time have been making all kinds of fantastic +movements together bring a crown to_ MEPHISTOPHELES +_with great noise_.) + + O be thou so good + With sweat and with blood + The crown to belime! + +(_They handle the crown awkwardly and break it into two +pieces, with which they spring around_.) + + ’Tis done, let it be! + We speak and we see, + We hear and we rhyme! + +FAUST (_before the mirror_) + +Woe’s me! I fear to lose my wits. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_pointing to the Animals_) + +My own head, now, is really nigh to sinking. + +THE ANIMALS + + If lucky our hits, + And everything fits, + ’Tis thoughts, and we’re thinking! + +FAUST (_as above_) + +My bosom burns with that sweet vision; +Let us, with speed, away from here! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_in the same attitude_) + +One must, at least, make this admission— +They’re poets, genuine and sincere. + +(_The caldron, which the_ SHE-APE _has up to this time neglected +to watch, begins to boil over: there ensues a great flame_, +_which blazes out the chimney. The_ WITCH _comes careering +down through the flame, with terrible cries_.) + +THE WITCH + + Ow! ow! ow! ow! + The damnéd beast—the curséd sow! + To leave the kettle, and singe the Frau! + Accurséd fere! + +(_Perceiving_ FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) + + What is that here? + Who are you here? + What want you thus? + Who sneaks to us? + The fire-pain + Burn bone and brain! + +(_She plunges the skimming-ladle into the caldron, and scatters +flames towards_ FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, _and the Animals. +The Animals whimper_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_reversing the brush, which he has been holding in his hand, +and striding among the jars and glasses_) + + In two! in two! + There lies the brew! + There lies the glass! + The joke will pass, + As time, foul ass! + To the singing of thy crew. + +(_As the_ WITCH _starts back, full of wrath and horror_) + +Ha! know’st thou me? Abomination, thou! +Know’st thou, at last, thy Lord and Master? +What hinders me from smiting now +Thee and thy monkey-sprites with fell disaster? +Hast for the scarlet coat no reverence? +Dost recognize no more the tall cock’s-feather? +Have I concealed this countenance?— +Must tell my name, old face of leather? + +THE WITCH + +O pardon, Sir, the rough salute! +Yet I perceive no cloven foot; +And both your ravens, where are _they_ now? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +This time, I’ll let thee ’scape the debt; +For since we two together met, +’Tis verily full many a day now. +Culture, which smooth the whole world licks, +Also unto the Devil sticks. +The days of that old Northern phantom now are over: +Where canst thou horns and tail and claws discover? +And, as regards the foot, which I can’t spare, in truth, +’Twould only make the people shun me; +Therefore I’ve worn, like many a spindly youth, +False calves these many years upon me. + +THE WITCH (_dancing_) + +Reason and sense forsake my brain, +Since I behold Squire Satan here again! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Woman, from such a name refrain! + +THE WITCH + +Why so? What has it done to thee? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +It’s long been written in the Book of Fable; +Yet, therefore, no whit better men we see: +The Evil One has left, the evil ones are stable. +Sir Baron call me thou, then is the matter good; +A cavalier am I, like others in my bearing. +Thou hast no doubt about my noble blood: +See, here’s the coat-of-arms that I am wearing! + +(_He makes an indecent gesture_.) + +THE WITCH (_laughs immoderately_) + +Ha! ha! That’s just your way, I know: +A rogue you are, and you were always so. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +My friend, take proper heed, I pray! +To manage witches, this is just the way. + +THE WITCH + +Wherein, Sirs, can I be of use? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Give us a goblet of the well-known juice! +But, I must beg you, of the oldest brewage; +The years a double strength produce. + +THE WITCH + +With all my heart! Now, here’s a bottle, +Wherefrom, sometimes, I wet my throttle, +Which, also, not the slightest, stinks; +And willingly a glass I’ll fill him. + +(_Whispering_) + +Yet, if this man without due preparation drinks, +As well thou know’st, within an hour ’twill kill him. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +He is a friend of mine, with whom it will agree, +And he deserves thy kitchen’s best potation: +Come, draw thy circle, speak thine adjuration, +And fill thy goblet full and free! + +THE WITCH + +(_with fantastic gestures draws a circle and places mysterious +articles therein; meanwhile the glasses begin to ring, the +caldron to sound, and make a musical accompaniment. +Finally she brings a great book, and stations in the circle +the Apes, who are obliged to serve as reading-desk, and to +hold the torches. She then beckons_ FAUST _to approach_.) + +FAUST (_to_ MEPHISTOPHELES) + +Now, what shall come of this? the creatures antic, +The crazy stuff, the gestures frantic,— +All the repulsive cheats I view,— +Are known to me, and hated, too. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O, nonsense! That’s a thing for laughter; +Don’t be so terribly severe! +She juggles you as doctor now, that, after, +The beverage may work the proper cheer. + +(_He persuades_ FAUST _to step into the circle_.) + +THE WITCH + +(_begins to declaim, with much emphasis, from the book_) + + See, thus it’s done! + Make ten of one, + And two let be, + Make even three, + And rich thou ’It be. + Cast o’er the four! + From five and six + (The witch’s tricks) + Make seven and eight, + ’Tis finished straight! + And nine is one, + And ten is none. + This is the witch’s once-one’s-one! + +FAUST + +She talks like one who raves in fever. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Thou’lt hear much more before we leave her. +’Tis all the same: the book I can repeat, +Such time I’ve squandered o’er the history: +A contradiction thus complete +Is always for the wise, no less than fools, a mystery. +The art is old and new, for verily +All ages have been taught the matter,— +By Three and One, and One and Three, +Error instead of Truth to scatter. +They prate and teach, and no one interferes; +All from the fellowship of fools are shrinking. +Man usually believes, if only words he hears, +That also with them goes material for thinking! + +THE WITCH (_continues_) + + The lofty skill + Of Science, still + From all men deeply hidden! + Who takes no thought, + To him ’tis brought, + ’Tis given unsought, unbidden! + +FAUST + +What nonsense she declaims before us! +My head is nigh to split, I fear: +It seems to me as if I hear +A hundred thousand fools in chorus. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O Sibyl excellent, enough of adjuration! +But hither bring us thy potation, +And quickly fill the beaker to the brim! +This drink will bring my friend no injuries: +He is a man of manifold degrees, +And many draughts are known to him. + +(_The_ WITCH, _with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a +cup; as_ FAUST _sets it to his lips, a light flame arises_.) + +Down with it quickly! Drain it off! +’Twill warm thy heart with new desire: +Art with the Devil hand and glove, +And wilt thou be afraid of fire? + +(_The_ WITCH _breaks the circle_: FAUST _steps forth_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And now, away! Thou dar’st not rest. + +THE WITCH + +And much good may the liquor do thee! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to the_ WITCH) + +Thy wish be on Walpurgis Night expressed; +What boon I have, shall then be given unto thee. + +THE WITCH + +Here is a song, which, if you sometimes sing, +You’ll find it of peculiar operation. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Come, walk at once! A rapid occupation +Must start the needful perspiration, +And through thy frame the liquor’s potence fling. +The noble indolence I’ll teach thee then to treasure, +And soon thou’lt be aware, with keenest thrills of pleasure, +How Cupid stirs and leaps, on light and restless wing. + +FAUST + +One rapid glance within the mirror give me, +How beautiful that woman-form! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No, no! The paragon of all, believe me, +Thou soon shalt see, alive and warm. + +_(Aside)_ + +Thou’lt find, this drink thy blood compelling, +Each woman beautiful as Helen! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +VII + + +STREET + +FAUST MARGARET _(passing by)_ + +FAUST + +Fair lady, let it not offend you, +That arm and escort I would lend you! + +MARGARET + +I’m neither lady, neither fair, +And home I can go without your care. + +[_She releases herself, and exit_. + +FAUST + +By Heaven, the girl is wondrous fair! +Of all I’ve seen, beyond compare; +So sweetly virtuous and pure, +And yet a little pert, be sure! +The lip so red, the cheek’s clear dawn, +[Illustration:] +I’ll not forget while the world rolls on! +How she cast down her timid eyes, +Deep in my heart imprinted lies: +How short and sharp of speech was she, +Why, ’twas a real ecstasy! + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_) + +FAUST + +Hear, of that girl I’d have possession! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Which, then? + +FAUST + +The one who just went by. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +She, there? She’s coming from confession, +Of every sin absolved; for I, +Behind her chair, was listening nigh. +So innocent is she, indeed, +That to confess she had no need. +I have no power o’er souls so green. + +FAUST + +And yet, she’s older than fourteen. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +How now! You’re talking like Jack Rake, +Who every flower for himself would take, +And fancies there are no favors more, +Nor honors, save for him in store; +Yet always doesn’t the thing succeed. + +FAUST + +Most Worthy Pedagogue, take heed! +Let not a word of moral law be spoken! +I claim, I tell thee, all my right; +And if that image of delight +Rest not within mine arms to-night, +At midnight is our compact broken. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But think, the chances of the case! +I need, at least, a fortnight’s space, +To find an opportune occasion. + +FAUST + +Had I but seven hours for all, +I should not on the Devil call, +But win her by my own persuasion. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +You almost like a Frenchman prate; +Yet, pray, don’t take it as annoyance! +Why, all at once, exhaust the joyance? +Your bliss is by no means so great +As if you’d use, to get control, +All sorts of tender rigmarole, +And knead and shape her to your thought, +As in Italian tales ’tis taught. + +FAUST + +Without that, I have appetite. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But now, leave jesting out of sight! +I tell you, once for all, that speed +With this fair girl will not succeed; +By storm she cannot captured be; +We must make use of strategy. + +FAUST + +Get me something the angel keeps! +Lead me thither where she sleeps! +Get me a kerchief from her breast,— +A garter that her knee has pressed! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That you may see how much I’d fain +Further and satisfy your pain, +We will no longer lose a minute; +I’ll find her room to-day, and take you in it. + +FAUST + +And shall I see—possess her? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No! +Unto a neighbor she must go, +And meanwhile thou, alone, mayst glow +With every hope of future pleasure, +Breathing her atmosphere in fullest measure. + +FAUST + +Can we go thither? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +’Tis too early yet. + +FAUST + +A gift for her I bid thee get! +[_Exit_. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Presents at once? That’s good: he’s certain to get at her! +Full many a pleasant place I know, +And treasures, buried long ago: +I must, perforce, look up the matter. _[Exit_. +[Illustration] + + + + +VIII + + +EVENING A SMALL, NEATLY KEPT CHAMBER + +MARGARET + +(_plaiting and binding up the braids of her hair_) + +I’d something give, could I but say +Who was that gentleman, to-day. +Surely a gallant man was he, +And of a noble family; +And much could I in his face behold,— +And he wouldn’t, else, have been so bold! + + [_Exit_ + +MEPHISTOPHELES FAUST + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Come in, but gently: follow me! + +FAUST (_after a moment’s silence_) + +Leave me alone, I beg of thee! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_prying about_) + +Not every girl keeps things so neat. + +FAUST (_looking around_) + +O welcome, twilight soft and sweet, +That breathes throughout this hallowed shrine! +Sweet pain of love, bind thou with fetters fleet +The heart that on the dew of hope must pine! +How all around a sense impresses +Of quiet, order, and content! +This poverty what bounty blesses! +What bliss within this narrow den is pent! + +(_He throws himself into a leathern arm-chair near the bed_.) + +Receive me, thou, that in thine open arms +Departed joy and pain wert wont to gather! +How oft the children, with their ruddy charms, +Hung here, around this throne, where sat the father! +Perchance my love, amid the childish band, +Grateful for gifts the Holy Christmas gave her, +Here meekly kissed the grandsire’s withered hand. +I feel, O maid! thy very soul +Of order and content around me whisper,— +Which leads thee with its motherly control, +The cloth upon thy board bids smoothly thee unroll, +The sand beneath thy feet makes whiter, crisper. +O dearest hand, to thee ’tis given +To change this hut into a lower heaven! +And here! + +(_He lifts one of the bed-curtains_.) + +What sweetest thrill is in my blood! +Here could I spend whole hours, delaying: +Here Nature shaped, as if in sportive playing, +The angel blossom from the bud. +Here lay the child, with Life’s warm essence +The tender bosom filled and fair, +And here was wrought, through holier, purer presence, +The form diviner beings wear! + +And I? What drew me here with power? +How deeply am I moved, this hour! +What seek I? Why so full my heart, and sore? +Miserable Faust! I know thee now no more. + +Is there a magic vapor here? +I came, with lust of instant pleasure, +And lie dissolved in dreams of love’s sweet leisure! +Are we the sport of every changeful atmosphere? + +And if, this moment, came she in to me, +How would I for the fault atonement render! +How small the giant lout would be, +Prone at her feet, relaxed and tender! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Be quick! I see her there, returning. + +FAUST + +Go! go! I never will retreat. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Here is a casket, not unmeet, +Which elsewhere I have just been earning. +Here, set it in the press, with haste! +I swear, ’twill turn her head, to spy it: +Some baubles I therein had placed, +That you might win another by it. +True, child is child, and play is play. + +FAUST + +I know not, should I do it? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Ask you, pray? +Yourself, perhaps, would keep the bubble? +Then I suggest, ’twere fair and just +To spare the lovely day your lust, +And spare to me the further trouble. +You are not miserly, I trust? +I rub my hands, in expectation tender— + +(_He places the casket in the press, and locks it again_.) + +Now quick, away! +The sweet young maiden to betray, +So that by wish and will you bend her; +And you look as though +To the lecture-hall you were forced to go,— +As if stood before you, gray and loath, +Physics and Metaphysics both! +But away! [_Exeunt_. + +MARGARET (_with a lamp_) + +It is so close, so sultry, here! + +(_She opens the window_) + +And yet ’tis not so warm outside. +I feel, I know not why, such fear!— +Would mother came!—where can she bide? +My body’s chill and shuddering,— +I’m but a silly, fearsome thing! + +(_She begins to sing while undressing_) + + There was a King in Thule, + Was faithful till the grave,— + To whom his mistress, dying, + A golden goblet gave. + + Naught was to him more precious; + He drained it at every bout: + His eyes with tears ran over, + As oft as he drank thereout. + + When came his time of dying, + The towns in his land he told, + Naught else to his heir denying + Except the goblet of gold. + + He sat at the royal banquet + With his knights of high degree, + In the lofty hall of his fathers + In the Castle by the Sea. + + There stood the old carouser, + And drank the last life-glow; + And hurled the hallowed goblet + Into the tide below. + + He saw it plunging and filling, + And sinking deep in the sea: + Then fell his eyelids forever, + And never more drank he! + +(_She opens the press in order to arrange her clothes, and perceives +the casket of jewels_.) + +How comes that lovely casket here to me? +I locked the press, most certainly. +’Tis truly wonderful! What can within it be? +Perhaps ’twas brought by some one as a pawn, +And mother gave a loan thereon? +And here there hangs a key to fit: +I have a mind to open it. +What is that? God in Heaven! Whence came +Such things? Never beheld I aught so fair! +Rich ornaments, such as a noble dame +On highest holidays might wear! +How would the pearl-chain suit my hair? +Ah, who may all this splendor own? + +(_She adorns herself with the jewelry, and steps before the +mirror_.) + +Were but the ear-rings mine, alone! +One has at once another air. +What helps one’s beauty, youthful blood? +One may possess them, well and good; +But none the more do others care. +They praise us half in pity, sure: +To gold still tends, +On gold depends +All, all! Alas, we poor! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +IX + + +PROMENADE + +(FAUST, _walking thoughtfully up and down. To him_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +By all love ever rejected! By hell-fire hot and unsparing! +I wish I knew something worse, that I might use it for +swearing! + +FAUST + +What ails thee? What is’t gripes thee, elf? +A face like thine beheld I never. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I would myself unto the Devil deliver, +If I were not a Devil myself! + +FAUST + +Thy head is out of order, sadly: +It much becomes thee to be raving madly. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Just think, the pocket of a priest should get +The trinkets left for Margaret! +The mother saw them, and, instanter, +A secret dread began to haunt her. +Keen scent has she for tainted air; +She snuffs within her book of prayer, +And smells each article, to see +If sacred or profane it be; +So here she guessed, from every gem, +That not much blessing came with them. +“My child,” she said, “ill-gotten good +Ensnares the soul, consumes the blood. +Before the Mother of God we’ll lay it; +With heavenly manna she’ll repay it!” +But Margaret thought, with sour grimace, +“A gift-horse is not out of place, +And, truly! godless cannot be +The one who brought such things to me.” +A parson came, by the mother bidden: +He saw, at once, where the game was hidden, +And viewed it with a favor stealthy. +He spake: “That is the proper view,— +Who overcometh, winneth too. +The Holy Church has a stomach healthy: +Hath eaten many a land as forfeit, +And never yet complained of surfeit: +The Church alone, beyond all question, +Has for ill-gotten goods the right digestion.” + +FAUST + +A general practice is the same, +Which Jew and King may also claim. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then bagged the spangles, chains, and rings, +As if but toadstools were the things, +And thanked no less, and thanked no more +Than if a sack of nuts he bore,— +Promised them fullest heavenly pay, +And deeply edified were they. + +FAUST + +And Margaret? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Sits unrestful still, +And knows not what she should, or will; +Thinks on the jewels, day and night, +But more on him who gave her such delight. + +FAUST + +The darling’s sorrow gives me pain. +Get thou a set for her again! +The first was not a great display. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O yes, the gentleman finds it all child’s-play! + +FAUST + +Fix and arrange it to my will; +And on her neighbor try thy skill! +Don’t be a Devil stiff as paste, +But get fresh jewels to her taste! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, gracious Sir, in all obedience! + +[_Exit_ FAUST. + +Such an enamored fool in air would blow +Sun, moon, and all the starry legions, +To give his sweetheart a diverting show. + +[_Exit_. + +[Illustration] + + + + +X + + +THE NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE + +MARTHA (_solus_) + +God forgive my husband, yet he +Hasn’t done his duty by me! +Off in the world he went straightway,— +Left me lie in the straw where I lay. +And, truly, I did naught to fret him: +God knows I loved, and can’t forget him! + +(_She weeps_.) + +Perhaps he’s even dead! Ah, woe!— +Had I a certificate to show! + +MARGARET (_comes_) + +Dame Martha! + +MARTHA + +Margaret! what’s happened thee? + +MARGARET + +I scarce can stand, my knees are trembling! +I find a box, the first resembling, +Within my press! Of ebony,— +And things, all splendid to behold, +And richer far than were the old. + +MARTHA + +You mustn’t tell it to your mother! +’Twould go to the priest, as did the other. + +MARGARET + +Ah, look and see—just look and see! + +MARTHA (_adorning her_) + +O, what a blessed luck for thee! + +MARGARET + +But, ah! in the streets I dare not bear them, +Nor in the church be seen to wear them. + +MARTHA + +Yet thou canst often this way wander, +And secretly the jewels don, +Walk up and down an hour, before the mirror yonder,— +We’ll have our private joy thereon. +And then a chance will come, a holiday, +When, piece by piece, can one the things abroad display, +A chain at first, then other ornament: +Thy mother will not see, and stories we’ll invent. + +MARGARET + +Whoever could have brought me things so precious? +That something’s wrong, I feel suspicious. + +(_A knock_) + +Good Heaven! My mother can that have been? + +MARTHA (_peeping through the blind_) + +’Tis some strange gentleman.—Come in! + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_.) + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That I so boldly introduce me, +I beg you, ladies, to excuse me. + +(_Steps back reverently, on seeing_ MARGARET.) + +For Martha Schwerdtlein I’d inquire! + + +MARTHA + +I’m she: what does the gentleman desire? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_aside to her_) + +It is enough that you are she: +You’ve a visitor of high degree. +Pardon the freedom I have ta’en,— +Will after noon return again. + + +MARTHA (_aloud_) + +Of all things in the world! Just hear— +He takes thee for a lady, dear! + + +MARGARET + +I am a creature young and poor: +The gentleman’s too kind, I’m sure. +The jewels don’t belong to me. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Ah, not alone the jewelry! +The look, the manner, both betray— +Rejoiced am I that I may stay! + + +MARTHA + +What is your business? I would fain— + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I would I had a more cheerful strain! +Take not unkindly its repeating: +Your husband’s dead, and sends a greeting. + + +MARTHA + +Is dead? Alas, that heart so true! +My husband dead! Let me die, too! + + +MARGARET + +Ah, dearest dame, let not your courage fail! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Hear me relate the mournful tale! + + +MARGARET + +Therefore I’d never love, believe me! +A loss like this to death would grieve me. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Joy follows woe, woe after joy comes flying. + + +MARTHA + +Relate his life’s sad close to me! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +In Padua buried, he is lying +Beside the good Saint Antony, +Within a grave well consecrated, +For cool, eternal rest created. + + +MARTHA + +He gave you, further, no commission? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, one of weight, with many sighs: +Three hundred masses buy, to save him from perdition! +My hands are empty, otherwise. + + +MARTHA + +What! Not a pocket-piece? no jewelry? +What every journeyman within his wallet spares, +And as a token with him bears, +And rather starves or begs, than loses? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Madam, it is a grief to me; +Yet, on my word, his cash was put to proper uses. +Besides, his penitence was very sore, +And he lamented his ill fortune all the more. + + +MARGARET + +Alack, that men are so unfortunate! +Surely for his soul’s sake full many a prayer I’ll proffer. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +You well deserve a speedy marriage-offer: +You are so kind, compassionate. + + +MARGARET + +O, no! As yet, it would not do. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +If not a husband, then a beau for you! +It is the greatest heavenly blessing, +To have a dear thing for one’s caressing. + + +MARGARET + +The country’s custom is not so. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Custom, or not! It happens, though. + + +MARTHA + +Continue, pray! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + I stood beside his bed of dying. +’Twas something better than manure,— +Half-rotten straw: and yet, he died a Christian, sure, +And found that heavier scores to his account were lying. +He cried: “I find my conduct wholly hateful! +To leave my wife, my trade, in manner so ungrateful! +Ah, the remembrance makes me die! +Would of my wrong to her I might be shriven!” + + +MARTHA (_weeping_) + +The dear, good man! Long since was he forgiven. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +“Yet she, God knows! was more to blame than I.” + + +MARTHA + +He lied! What! On the brink of death he slandered? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +In the last throes his senses wandered, +If I such things but half can judge. +He said: “I had no time for play, for gaping freedom: +First children, and then work for bread to feed ’em,— +For bread, in the widest sense, to drudge, +And could not even eat my share in peace and quiet!” + + +MARTHA + +Had he all love, all faith forgotten in his riot? +My work and worry, day and night? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Not so: the memory of it touched him quite. +Said he: “When I from Malta went away +My prayers for wife and little ones were zealous, +And such a luck from Heaven befell us, +We made a Turkish merchantman our prey, +That to the Soldan bore a mighty treasure. +Then I received, as was most fit, +Since bravery was paid in fullest measure, +My well-apportioned share of it.” + + +MARTHA + +Say, how? Say, where? If buried, did he own it? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Who knows, now, whither the four winds have blown it? +A fair young damsel took him in her care, +As he in Naples wandered round, unfriended; +And she much love, much faith to him did bear, +So that he felt it till his days were ended. + + +MARTHA + +The villain! From his children thieving! +Even all the misery on him cast +Could not prevent his shameful way of living! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But see! He’s dead therefrom, at last. +Were I in _your_ place, do not doubt me, +I’d mourn him decently a year, +And for another keep, meanwhile, my eyes about me. + + +MARTHA + +Ah, God! another one so dear +As was my first, this world will hardly give me. +There never was a sweeter fool than mine, +Only he loved to roam and leave me, +And foreign wenches and foreign wine, +And the damned throw of dice, indeed. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Well, well! That might have done, however, +If he had only been as clever, +And treated _your_ slips with as little heed. +I swear, with this condition, too, +I would, myself, change rings with you. + + +MARTHA + +The gentleman is pleased to jest. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I’ll cut away, betimes, from here: +She’d take the Devil at his word, I fear. + +(_To_ MARGARET) + +How fares the heart within your breast? + + +MARGARET + +What means the gentleman? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_aside_) + + Sweet innocent, thou art! + +(_Aloud_.) + + Ladies, farewell! + + +MARGARET + +Farewell! + + +MARTHA + + A moment, ere we part! +I’d like to have a legal witness, +Where, how, and when he died, to certify his fitness. +Irregular ways I’ve always hated; +I want his death in the weekly paper stated. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, my good dame, a pair of witnesses +Always the truth establishes. +I have a friend of high condition, +Who’ll also add his deposition. +I’ll bring him here. + + +MARTHA + + Good Sir, pray do! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And this young lady will be present, too? +A gallant youth! has travelled far: +Ladies with him delighted are. + + +MARGARET + +Before him I should blush, ashamed. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Before no king that could be named! + + +MARTHA + +Behind the house, in my garden, then, +This eve we’ll expect the gentlemen. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XI + + +A STREET + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +How is it? under way? and soon complete? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Ah, bravo! Do I find you burning? +Well, Margaret soon will still your yearning: +At Neighbor Martha’s you’ll this evening meet. +A fitter woman ne’er was made +To ply the pimp and gypsy trade! + +FAUST + +Tis well. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yet something is required from us. + +FAUST + +One service pays the other thus. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We’ve but to make a deposition valid +That now her husband’s limbs, outstretched and pallid, +At Padua rest, in consecrated soil. + +FAUST + +Most wise! And first, of course, we’ll make the journey + thither? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +_Sancta simplicitas_! no need of such a toil; +Depose, with knowledge or without it, either! + +FAUST + +If you’ve naught better, then, I’ll tear your pretty plan! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Now, there you are! O holy man! +Is it the first time in your life you’re driven +To bear false witness in a case? +Of God, the world and all that in it has a place, +Of Man, and all that moves the being of his race, +Have you not terms and definitions given +With brazen forehead, daring breast? +And, if you’ll probe the thing profoundly, +Knew you so much—and you’ll confess it roundly!— +As here of Schwerdtlein’s death and place of rest? + +FAUST + +Thou art, and thou remain’st, a sophist, liar. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, knew I not more deeply thy desire. +For wilt thou not, no lover fairer, +Poor Margaret flatter, and ensnare her, +And all thy soul’s devotion swear her? + +FAUST + +And from my heart. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + ’Tis very fine! +Thine endless love, thy faith assuring, +The one almighty force enduring,— +Will that, too, prompt this heart of thine? + +FAUST + +Hold! hold! It will!—If such my flame, +And for the sense and power intense +I seek, and cannot find, a name; +Then range with all my senses through creation, +Craving the speech of inspiration, +And call this ardor, so supernal, +Endless, eternal and eternal,— +Is that a devilish lying game? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And yet I’m right! + +FAUST + + Mark this, I beg of thee! +And spare my lungs henceforth: whoever +Intends to have the right, if but his + tongue be clever, +Will have it, certainly. +But come: the further talking brings + disgust, +For thou art right, especially since I + must. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XII + + +GARDEN + +(MARGARET _on_ FAUST’S _arm_. MARTHA _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES +_walking up and down_.) + +MARGARET + +I feel, the gentleman allows for me, +Demeans himself, and shames me by it; +A traveller is so used to be +Kindly content with any diet. +I know too well that my poor gossip can +Ne’er entertain such an experienced man. + +FAUST + +A look from thee, a word, more entertains +Than all the lore of wisest brains. + +(_He kisses her hand_.) + +MARGARET + +Don’t incommode yourself! How could you ever kiss it! +It is so ugly, rough to see! +What work I do,—how hard and steady is it! +Mother is much too close with me. + +[_They pass_. + +MARTHA + +And you, Sir, travel always, do you not? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Alas, that trade and duty us so harry! +With what a pang one leaves so many a spot, +And dares not even now and then to tarry! + +MARTHA + +In young, wild years it suits your ways, +This round and round the world in freedom sweeping; +But then come on the evil days, +And so, as bachelor, into his grave a-creeping, +None ever found a thing to praise. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I dread to see how such a fate advances. + +MARTHA + +Then, worthy Sir, improve betimes your chances! + +[_They pass_. + +MARGARET + +Yes, out of sight is out of mind! +Your courtesy an easy grace is; +But you have friends in other places, +And sensibler than I, you’ll find. + +FAUST + +Trust me, dear heart! what men call sensible +Is oft mere vanity and narrowness. + +MARGARET + + How so? + +FAUST + +Ah, that simplicity and innocence ne’er know +Themselves, their holy value, and their spell! +That meekness, lowliness, the highest graces +Which Nature portions out so lovingly— + +MARGARET + +So you but think a moment’s space on me, +All times I’ll have to think on you, all places! + +FAUST + +No doubt you’re much alone? + +MARGARET + +Yes, for our household small has grown, +Yet must be cared for, you will own. +We have no maid: I do the knitting, sewing, sweeping, +The cooking, early work and late, in fact; +And mother, in her notions of housekeeping, +Is so exact! +Not that she needs so much to keep expenses down: +We, more than others, might take comfort, rather: +A nice estate was left us by my father, +A house, a little garden near the town. +But now my days have less of noise and hurry; +My brother is a soldier, +My little sister’s dead. +True, with the child a troubled life I led, +Yet I would take again, and willing, all the worry, +So very dear was she. + +FAUST + +An angel, if like thee! + +MARGARET + +I brought it up, and it was fond of me. +Father had died before it saw the light, +And mother’s case seemed hopeless quite, +So weak and miserable she lay; +And she recovered, then, so slowly, day by day. +She could not think, herself, of giving +The poor wee thing its natural living; +And so I nursed it all alone +With milk and water: ’twas my own. +Lulled in my lap with many a song, +It smiled, and tumbled, and grew strong. + +FAUST + +The purest bliss was surely then thy dower. + +MARGARET + +But surely, also, many a weary hour. +I kept the baby’s cradle near +My bed at night: if ’t even stirred, I’d guess it, +And waking, hear. +And I must nurse it, warm beside me press it, +And oft, to quiet it, my bed forsake, +And dandling back and forth the restless creature take, +Then at the wash-tub stand, at morning’s break; +And then the marketing and kitchen-tending, +Day after day, the same thing, never-ending. +One’s spirits, Sir, are thus not always good, +But then one learns to relish rest and food. + +[_They pass_. + +MARTHA + +Yes, the poor women are bad off, ’tis true: +A stubborn bachelor there’s no converting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +It but depends upon the like of you, +And I should turn to better ways than flirting. + +MARTHA + +Speak plainly, Sir, have you no one detected? +Has not your heart been anywhere subjected? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The proverb says: One’s own warm hearth +And a good wife, are gold and jewels worth. + +MARTHA + +I mean, have you not felt desire, though ne’er so slightly? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I’ve everywhere, in fact, been entertained politely. + +MARTHA + +I meant to say, were you not touched in earnest, ever? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +One should allow one’s self to jest with ladies never. + + +MARTHA +Ah, you don’t understand! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I’m sorry I’m so blind: +But I am sure—that you are very kind. + +[_They pass_. + +FAUST + +And me, thou angel! didst thou recognize, +As through the garden-gate I came? + +MARGARET + +Did you not see it? I cast down my eyes. + +FAUST + +And thou forgiv’st my freedom, and the blame +To my impertinence befitting, +As the Cathedral thou wert quitting? + +MARGARET + +I was confused, the like ne’er happened me; +No one could ever speak to my discredit. +Ah, thought I, in my conduct has he read it— +Something immodest or unseemly free? +He seemed to have the sudden feeling +That with this wench ’twere very easy dealing. +I will confess, I knew not what appeal +On your behalf, here, in my bosom grew; +But I was angry with myself, to feel +That I could not be angrier with you. + + +FAUST + +Sweet darling! + +MARGARET + +Wait a while! + +(_She plucks a star-flower, and pulls off the leaves, one after +the other_.) + +FAUST + +Shall that a nosegay be? + +MARGARET + +No, it is just in play. + +FAUST + +How? + +MARGARET + +Go! you’ll laugh at me. +(_She pulls off the leaves and murmurs_.) + +FAUST + +What murmurest thou? + +MARGARET (_half aloud_) + +He loves me—loves me not. + +FAUST + +Thou sweet, angelic soul! + +MARGARET (_continues_) + +Loves me—not—loves me—not— +(_plucking the last leaf, she cries with frank delight_:) + +He loves me! + +FAUST + +Yes, child! and let this blossom-word +For thee be speech divine! He loves thee! +Ah, know’st thou what it means? He loves thee! + +(_He grasps both her hands_.) + +MARGARET + +I’m all a-tremble! + +FAUST + +O tremble not! but let this look, +Let this warm clasp of hands declare thee +What is unspeakable! +To yield one wholly, and to feel a rapture +In yielding, that must be eternal! +Eternal!—for the end would be despair. +No, no,—no ending! no ending! + +MARTHA (_coming forward_) + +The night is falling. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Ay! we must away. + +MARTHA + +I’d ask you, longer here to tarry, +But evil tongues in this town have full play. +It’s as if nobody had nothing to fetch and carry, +Nor other labor, +But spying all the doings of one’s neighbor: +And one becomes the talk, do whatsoe’er one may. +Where is our couple now? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Flown up the alley yonder, +The wilful summer-birds! + +MARTHA + + He seems of her still fonder. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And she of him. So runs the world away! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XIII + + +A GARDEN-ARBOR + +(MARGARET _comes in, conceals herself behind the door, puts her +finger to her lips, and peeps through the crack_.) + +MARGARET + +He comes! + +FAUST (_entering_) + + Ah, rogue! a tease thou art: +I have thee! +(_He kisses her_.) + +MARGARET + +(_clasping him, and returning the kiss_) + Dearest man! I love thee from my heart. + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _knocks_) + +FAUST (_stamping his foot_) + +Who’s there? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A friend! + +FAUST + + A beast! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Tis time to separate. + +MARTHA (_coming_) + +Yes, Sir, ’tis late. + +FAUST + + May I not, then, upon you wait? + +MARGARET +My mother would—farewell! + +FAUST + + Ah, can I not remain? +Farewell! + +MARTHA + + Adieu! + +MARGARET + + And soon to meet again! + +[_Exeunt_ FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES. + +MARGARET + +Dear God! However is it, such +A man can think and know so much? +I stand ashamed and in amaze, +And answer “Yes” to all he says, +A poor, unknowing child! and he— +I can’t think what he finds in me! [_Exit_. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XIV + + +FOREST AND CAVERN + +FAUST (_solus_) + +Spirit sublime, thou gav’st me, gav’st me all +For which I prayed. Not unto me in vain +Hast thou thy countenance revealed in fire. +Thou gav’st me Nature as a kingdom grand, +With power to feel and to enjoy it. Thou +Not only cold, amazed acquaintance yield’st, +But grantest, that in her profoundest breast +I gaze, as in the bosom of a friend. +The ranks of living creatures thou dost lead +Before me, teaching me to know my brothers +In air and water and the silent wood. +And when the storm in forests roars and grinds, +The giant firs, in falling, neighbor boughs +And neighbor trunks with crushing weight bear down, +And falling, fill the hills with hollow thunders,— +Then to the cave secure thou leadest me, +Then show’st me mine own self, and in my breast +The deep, mysterious miracles unfold. +And when the perfect moon before my gaze +Comes up with soothing light, around me float +From every precipice and thicket damp +The silvery phantoms of the ages past, +And temper the austere delight of thought. + +That nothing can be perfect unto Man +I now am conscious. With this ecstasy, +Which brings me near and nearer to the Gods, +Thou gav’st the comrade, whom I now no more +Can do without, though, cold and scornful, he +Demeans me to myself, and with a breath, +A word, transforms thy gifts to nothingness. +Within my breast he fans a lawless fire, +Unwearied, for that fair and lovely form: +Thus in desire I hasten to enjoyment, +And in enjoyment pine to feel desire. + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Have you not led this life quite long enough? +How can a further test delight you? +’Tis very well, that once one tries the stuff, +But something new must then requite you. + +FAUST + +Would there were other work for thee! +To plague my day auspicious thou returnest. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Well! I’ll engage to let thee be: +Thou darest not tell me so in earnest. +The loss of thee were truly very slight,— +comrade crazy, rude, repelling: + +[Illustration] + +One has one’s hands full all the day and night; +If what one does, or leaves undone, is right, +From such a face as thine there is no telling. + +FAUST + +There is, again, thy proper tone!— +That thou hast bored me, I must thankful be! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Poor Son of Earth, how couldst thou thus alone +Have led thy life, bereft of me? +I, for a time, at least, have worked thy cure; +Thy fancy’s rickets plague thee not at all: +Had I not been, so hadst thou, sure, +Walked thyself off this earthly ball +Why here to caverns, rocky hollows slinking, +Sit’st thou, as ’twere an owl a-blinking? +Why suck’st, from sodden moss and dripping stone, +Toad-like, thy nourishment alone? +A fine way, this, thy time to fill! +The Doctor’s in thy body still. + +FAUST + +What fresh and vital forces, canst thou guess, +Spring from my commerce with the wilderness? +But, if thou hadst the power of guessing, +Thou wouldst be devil enough to grudge my soul the blessing. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A blessing drawn from supernatural fountains! +In night and dew to lie upon the mountains; +All Heaven and Earth in rapture penetrating; +Thyself to Godhood haughtily inflating; +To grub with yearning force through Earth’s dark marrow, +Compress the six days’ work within thy bosom narrow,— +To taste, I know not what, in haughty power, +Thine own ecstatic life on all things shower, +Thine earthly self behind thee cast, +And then the lofty instinct, thus— + +(_With a gesture_:) + +at last,— +daren’t say how—to pluck the final flower! + +FAUST + +Shame on thee! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, thou findest that unpleasant! +Thou hast the moral right to cry me “shame!” at present. +One dares not that before chaste ears declare, +Which chaste hearts, notwithstanding, cannot spare; +And, once for all, I grudge thee not the pleasure +Of lying to thyself in moderate measure. +But such a course thou wilt not long endure; +Already art thou o’er-excited, +And, if it last, wilt soon be plighted +To madness and to horror, sure. +Enough of that! Thy love sits lonely yonder, +By all things saddened and oppressed; +Her thoughts and yearnings seek thee, tenderer, fonder,— +mighty love is in her breast. +First came thy passion’s flood and poured around her +As when from melted snow a streamlet overflows; +Thou hast therewith so filled and drowned her, +That now _thy_ stream all shallow shows. +Methinks, instead of in the forests lording, +The noble Sir should find it good, +The love of this young silly blood +At once to set about rewarding. +Her time is miserably long; +She haunts her window, watching clouds that stray +O’er the old city-wall, and far away. +“Were I a little bird!” so runs her song, +Day long, and half night long. +Now she is lively, mostly sad, +Now, wept beyond her tears; +Then again quiet she appears,—Always +love-mad. + +FAUST + +Serpent! Serpent! + +MEPHISTOPHELES _(aside)_ + +Ha! do I trap thee! + +FAUST + +Get thee away with thine offences, +Reprobate! Name not that fairest thing, +Nor the desire for her sweet body bring +Again before my half-distracted senses! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What wouldst thou, then? She thinks that thou art flown; +And half and half thou art, I own. + +FAUST + +Yet am I near, and love keeps watch and ward; +Though I were ne’er so far, it cannot falter: +I envy even the Body of the Lord +The touching of her lips, before the altar. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +’Tis very well! _My_ envy oft reposes +On your twin-pair, that feed among the roses. + +FAUST + +Away, thou pimp! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +You rail, and it is fun to me. +The God, who fashioned youth and maid, +Perceived the noblest purpose of His trade, +And also made their opportunity. +Go on! It is a woe profound! +’Tis for your sweetheart’s room you’re bound, +And not for death, indeed. + +FAUST + +What are, within her arms, the heavenly blisses? +Though I be glowing with her kisses, +Do I not always share her need? +I am the fugitive, all houseless roaming, +The monster without air or rest, +That like a cataract, down rocks and gorges foaming, +Leaps, maddened, into the abyss’s breast! +And side-wards she, with young unwakened senses, +Within her cabin on the Alpine field +Her simple, homely life commences, +Her little world therein concealed. +And I, God’s hate flung o’er me, +Had not enough, to thrust +The stubborn rocks before me +And strike them into dust! +She and her peace I yet must undermine: +Thou, Hell, hast claimed this sacrifice as thine! +Help, Devil! through the coming pangs to push me; +What must be, let it quickly be! +Let fall on me her fate, and also crush me,— +One ruin whelm both her and me! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Again it seethes, again it glows! +Thou fool, go in and comfort her! +When such a head as thine no outlet knows, +It thinks the end must soon occur. +Hail him, who keeps a steadfast mind! +Thou, else, dost well the devil-nature wear: +Naught so insipid in the world I find +As is a devil in despair. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XV + + +MARGARET’S ROOM + +MARGARET + +(_at the spinning-wheel, alone_) + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + Save I have him near. + The grave is here; + The world is gall + And bitterness all. + + My poor weak head + Is racked and crazed; + My thought is lost, + My senses mazed. + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + To see him, him only, + At the pane I sit; + To meet him, him only, + The house I quit. + + His lofty gait, + His noble size, + The smile of his mouth, + The power of his eyes, + + And the magic flow + Of his talk, the bliss + In the clasp of his hand, + And, ah! his kiss! + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + My bosom yearns + For him alone; + Ah, dared I clasp him, + And hold, and own! + + And kiss his mouth, + To heart’s desire, + And on his kisses + At last expire! + +[Illustration] + + + + +XVI + + +MARTHA’S GARDEN + +MARGARET FAUST + +MARGARET + +Promise me, Henry!— + +FAUST + +What I can! + +MARGARET + +How is’t with thy religion, pray? +Thou art a dear, good-hearted man, +And yet, I think, dost not incline that way. + +FAUST + +Leave that, my child! Thou know’st my love is tender; +For love, my blood and life would I surrender, +And as for Faith and Church, I grant to each his own. + +MARGARET + +That’s not enough: we must believe thereon. + +FAUST + +Must we? + +MARGARET + +Would that I had some influence! +Then, too, thou honorest not the Holy Sacraments. + +FAUST + +I honor them. + +MARGARET + +Desiring no possession +’Tis long since thou hast been to mass or to confession. +Believest thou in God? + +FAUST + +My darling, who shall dare +“I believe in God!” to say? +Ask priest or sage the answer to declare, +And it will seem a mocking play, +A sarcasm on the asker. + +MARGARET + +Then thou believest not! + +FAUST + +Hear me not falsely, sweetest countenance! +Who dare express Him? +And who profess Him, +Saying: I believe in Him! +Who, feeling, seeing, +Deny His being, +Saying: I believe Him not! +The All-enfolding, +The All-upholding, +Folds and upholds he not +Thee, me, Himself? +Arches not there the sky above us? +Lies not beneath us, firm, the earth? +And rise not, on us shining, +Friendly, the everlasting stars? +Look I not, eye to eye, on thee, +And feel’st not, thronging +To head and heart, the force, +Still weaving its eternal secret, +Invisible, visible, round thy life? +Vast as it is, fill with that force thy heart, +And when thou in the feeling wholly blessed art, +Call it, then, what thou wilt,— +Call it Bliss! Heart! Love! God! +I have no name to give it! +Feeling is all in all: +The Name is sound and smoke, +Obscuring Heaven’s clear glow. + +MARGARET + +All that is fine and good, to hear it so: +Much the same way the preacher spoke, +Only with slightly different phrases. + +FAUST + +The same thing, in all places, +All hearts that beat beneath the heavenly day— +Each in its language—say; +Then why not I, in mine, as well? + +MARGARET + +To hear it thus, it may seem passable; +And yet, some hitch in’t there must be +For thou hast no Christianity. + +FAUST + +Dear love! + +MARGARET + + I’ve long been grieved to see +That thou art in such company. + +FAUST + +How so? + +MARGARET + + The man who with thee goes, thy mate, +Within my deepest, inmost soul I hate. +In all my life there’s nothing +Has given my heart so keen a pang of loathing, +As his repulsive face has done. + +FAUST + +Nay, fear him not, my sweetest one! + +MARGARET + +I feel his presence like something ill. +I’ve else, for all, a kindly will, +But, much as my heart to see thee yearneth, +The secret horror of him returneth; +And I think the man a knave, as I live! +If I do him wrong, may God forgive! + +FAUST + +There must be such queer birds, however. + +MARGARET + +Live with the like of him, may I never! +When once inside the door comes he, +He looks around so sneeringly, +And half in wrath: +One sees that in nothing no interest he hath: +’Tis written on his very forehead +That love, to him, is a thing abhorréd. +I am so happy on thine arm, +So free, so yielding, and so warm, +And in his presence stifled seems my heart. + +FAUST + +Foreboding angel that thou art! + +MARGARET + +It overcomes me in such degree, +That wheresoe’er he meets us, even, +I feel as though I’d lost my love for thee. +When he is by, I could not pray to Heaven. +That burns within me like a flame, +And surely, Henry, ’tis with thee the same. + +FAUST + +There, now, is thine antipathy! + +MARGARET + +But I must go. + +FAUST + + Ah, shall there never be +A quiet hour, to see us fondly plighted, +With breast to breast, and soul to soul united? + +MARGARET + +Ah, if I only slept alone! +I’d draw the bolts to-night, for thy desire; +But mother’s sleep so light has grown, +And if we were discovered by her, +’Twould be my death upon the spot! + +FAUST + +Thou angel, fear it not! +Here is a phial: in her drink +But three drops of it measure, +And deepest sleep will on her senses sink. + +MARGARET + +What would I not, to give thee pleasure? +It will not harm her, when one tries it? + +FAUST + +If ’twould, my love, would I advise it? + +MARGARET + +Ah, dearest man, if but thy face I see, +I know not what compels me to thy will: +So much have I already done for thee, +That scarcely more is left me to fulfil. + +(_Enter_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) [_Exit_. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The monkey! Is she gone? + +FAUST + + Hast played the spy again? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I’ve heard, most fully, how she drew thee. +The Doctor has been catechised, ’tis plain; +Great good, I hope, the thing will do thee. +The girls have much desire to ascertain +If one is prim and good, as ancient rules compel: +If there he’s led, they think, he’ll follow them as well. + +FAUST + +Thou, monster, wilt nor see nor own +How this pure soul, of faith so lowly, +So loving and ineffable,— +The faith alone +That her salvation is,—with scruples holy +Pines, lest she hold as lost the man she loves so well! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Thou, full of sensual, super-sensual desire, +A girl by the nose is leading thee. + +FAUST + +Abortion, thou, of filth and fire! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And then, how masterly she reads physiognomy! +When I am present she’s impressed, she knows not how; +She in my mask a hidden sense would read: +She feels that surely I’m a genius now,— +Perhaps the very Devil, indeed! +Well, well,—to-night—? + +FAUST + + What’s that to thee? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yet my delight ’twill also be! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XVII + + +AT THE FOUNTAIN + +MARGARET _and_ LISBETH _With pitchers_. + +LISBETH + +Hast nothing heard of Barbara? + +MARGARET + +No, not a word. I go so little out. + +LISBETH + +It’s true, Sibylla said, to-day. +She’s played the fool at last, there’s not a doubt. +Such taking-on of airs! + +MARGARET + + How so? + +LISBETH + + It stinks! +She’s feeding two, whene’er she eats and drinks. + +MARGARET + +Ah! + +LISBETH + + And so, at last, it serves her rightly. +She clung to the fellow so long and tightly! +That was a promenading! +At village and dance parading! +As the first they must everywhere shine, +And he treated her always to pies and wine, +And she made a to-do with her face so fine; +So mean and shameless was her behavior, +She took all the presents the fellow gave her. +’Twas kissing and coddling, on and on! +So now, at the end, the flower is gone. + +MARGARET + +The poor, poor thing! + +LISBETH + + Dost pity her, at that? +When one of us at spinning sat, +And mother, nights, ne’er let us out the door +She sported with her paramour. +On the door-bench, in the passage dark, +The length of the time they’d never mark. +So now her head no more she’ll lift, +But do church-penance in her sinner’s shift! + +MARGARET + +He’ll surely take her for his wife. + +LISBETH + +He’d be a fool! A brisk young blade +Has room, elsewhere, to ply his trade. +Besides, he’s gone. + +MARGARET + + That is not fair! + +LISBETH + +If him she gets, why let her beware! +The boys shall dash her wreath on the floor, +And we’ll scatter chaff before her door! + [_Exit_. + +MARGARET (_returning home_) + +How scornfully I once reviled, +When some poor maiden was beguiled! +More speech than any tongue suffices +I craved, to censure others’ vices. +Black as it seemed, I blackened still, +And blacker yet was in my will; +And blessed myself, and boasted high,— +And now—a living sin am I! +Yet—all that drove my heart thereto, +God! was so good, so dear, so true! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XVIII + + +DONJON + +(_In a niche of the wall a shrine, with an image of the Mater +Dolorosa. Pots of flowers before it_.) + +MARGARET + +(_putting fresh flowers in the pots_) + + Incline, O Maiden, + Thou sorrow-laden, + Thy gracious countenance upon my pain! + + The sword Thy heart in, + With anguish smarting, + Thou lookest up to where Thy Son is slain! + + Thou seest the Father; + Thy sad sighs gather, + And bear aloft Thy sorrow and His pain! + + Ah, past guessing, + Beyond expressing, + The pangs that wring my flesh and bone! + Why this anxious heart so burneth, + Why it trembleth, why it yearneth, + Knowest Thou, and Thou alone! + + Where’er I go, what sorrow, + What woe, what woe and sorrow + Within my bosom aches! + Alone, and ah! unsleeping, + I’m weeping, weeping, weeping, + The heart within me breaks. + + The pots before my window, + Alas! my tears did wet, + As in the early morning + For thee these flowers I set. + + Within my lonely chamber + The morning sun shone red: + I sat, in utter sorrow, + Already on my bed. + + Help! rescue me from death and stain! + O Maiden! + Thou sorrow-laden, + Incline Thy countenance upon my pain! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XIX + + +NIGHT + +STREET BEFORE MARGARET’S DOOR + +VALENTINE (_a soldier_, MARGARET’S _brother_) + +When I have sat at some carouse. +Where each to each his brag allows, +And many a comrade praised to me +His pink of girls right lustily, +With brimming glass that spilled the toast, +And elbows planted as in boast: +I sat in unconcerned repose, +And heard the swagger as it rose. +And stroking then my beard, I’d say, +Smiling, the bumper in my hand: +“Each well enough in her own way. +But is there one in all the land +Like sister Margaret, good as gold,— +One that to her can a candle hold?” +Cling! clang! “Here’s to her!” went around +The board: “He speaks the truth!” cried some; +“In her the flower o’ the sex is found!” +And all the swaggerers were dumb. +And now!—I could tear my hair with vexation. +And dash out my brains in desperation! +With turned-up nose each scamp may face me, +With sneers and stinging taunts disgrace me, +And, like a bankrupt debtor sitting, +A chance-dropped word may set me sweating! +Yet, though I thresh them all together, +I cannot call them liars, either. + +But what comes sneaking, there, to view? +If I mistake not, there are two. +If _he’s_ one, let me at him drive! +He shall not leave the spot alive. + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +How from the window of the sacristy +Upward th’eternal lamp sends forth a glimmer, +That, lessening side-wards, fainter grows and dimmer, +Till darkness closes from the sky! +The shadows thus within my bosom gather. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I’m like a sentimental tom-cat, rather, +That round the tall fire-ladders sweeps, +And stealthy, then, along the coping creeps: +Quite virtuous, withal, I come, +A little thievish and a little frolicsome. +I feel in every limb the presage +Forerunning the grand Walpurgis-Night: +Day after to-morrow brings its message, +And one keeps watch then with delight. + +FAUST + +Meanwhile, may not the treasure risen be, +Which there, behind, I glimmering see? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Shalt soon experience the pleasure, +To lift the kettle with its treasure. +I lately gave therein a squint— +Saw splendid lion-dollars in ’t. + +FAUST + +Not even a jewel, not a ring, +To deck therewith my darling girl? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I saw, among the rest, a thing +That seemed to be a chain of pearl. + +FAUST + +That’s well, indeed! For painful is it +To bring no gift when her I visit. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Thou shouldst not find it so annoying, +Without return to be enjoying. +Now, while the sky leads forth its starry throng, +Thou’lt hear a masterpiece, no work completer: +I’ll sing her, first, a moral song, +The surer, afterwards, to cheat her. + +(_Sings to the cither_.) + + What dost thou here + In daybreak clear, + Kathrina dear, + Before thy lover’s door? + Beware! the blade + Lets in a maid. + That out a maid + Departeth nevermore! + + The coaxing shun + Of such an one! + When once ’tis done + Good-night to thee, poor thing! + Love’s time is brief: + Unto no thief + Be warm and lief, + But with the wedding-ring! + +VALENTINE (_comes forward_) + +Whom wilt thou lure? God’s-element! +Rat-catching piper, thou!—perdition! +To the Devil, first, the instrument! +To the Devil, then, the curst musician! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The cither’s smashed! For nothing more ’tis fitting. + +VALENTINE + +There’s yet a skull I must be splitting! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Sir Doctor, don’t retreat, I pray! +Stand by: I’ll lead, if you’ll but tarry: +Out with your spit, without delay! +You’ve but to lunge, and I will parry. + +VALENTINE + +Then parry that! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Why not? ’tis light. +VALENTINE + +That, too! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Of course. + +VALENTINE + +I think the Devil must fight! +How is it, then? my hand’s already lame: + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Thrust home! + +VALENTINE (_jails_) + +O God! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Now is the lubber tame! +But come, away! ’Tis time for us to fly; +For there arises now a murderous cry. +With the police ’twere easy to compound it, +But here the penal court will sift and sound it. + +[_Exit with_ FAUST. + +MARTHA (_at the window_) + +Come out! Come out! + +MARGARET (_at the window_) + +Quick, bring a light! + +MARTHA (_as above_) + +They swear and storm, they yell and fight! + +PEOPLE + +Here lies one dead already—see! + +MARTHA (_coming from the house_) + +The murderers, whither have they run? + +MARGARET (_coming out_) + +Who lies here? + +PEOPLE + +’Tis thy mother’s son! + +MARGARET + +Almighty God! what misery! + +VALENTINE + +I’m dying! That is quickly said, +And quicker yet ’tis done. +Why howl, you women there? Instead, +Come here and listen, every one! + +(_All gather around him_) + +My Margaret, see! still young thou art, +But not the least bit shrewd or smart, +Thy business thus to slight: +So this advice I bid thee heed— +Now that thou art a whore indeed, +Why, be one then, outright! + +MARGARET + +My brother! God! such words to me? + +VALENTINE + +In this game let our Lord God be! +What’s done’s already done, alas! +What follows it, must come to pass. +With one begin’st thou secretly, +Then soon will others come to thee, +And when a dozen thee have known, +Thou’rt also free to all the town. +When Shame is born and first appears, +She is in secret brought to light, +And then they draw the veil of night +Over her head and ears; +Her life, in fact, they’re loath to spare her. +But let her growth and strength display, +She walks abroad unveiled by day, +Yet is not grown a whit the fairer. +The uglier she is to sight, +The more she seeks the day’s broad light. +The time I verily can discern +When all the honest folk will turn +From thee, thou jade! and seek protection +As from a corpse that breeds infection. +Thy guilty heart shall then dismay thee. +When they but look thee in the face:— +Shalt not in a golden chain array thee, +Nor at the altar take thy place! +Shalt not, in lace and ribbons flowing, +Make merry when the dance is going! +But in some corner, woe betide thee! +Among the beggars and cripples hide thee; +And so, though even God forgive, +On earth a damned existence live! + +MARTHA + +Commend your soul to God for pardon, +That you your heart with slander harden! + +VALENTINE + +Thou pimp most infamous, be still! +Could I thy withered body kill, +’Twould bring, for all my sinful pleasure, +Forgiveness in the richest measure. + +MARGARET + +My brother! This is Hell’s own pain! + +VALENTINE + +I tell thee, from thy tears refrain! +When thou from honor didst depart +It stabbed me to the very heart. +Now through the slumber of the grave +I go to God as a soldier brave. + +(_Dies_.) + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XX + + +CATHEDRAL + +SERVICE, ORGAN _and_ ANTHEM. + +(MARGARET _among much people: the_ EVIL SPIRIT _behind_ +MARGARET.) + +EVIL SPIRIT + +HOW otherwise was it, Margaret, +When thou, still innocent, +Here to the altar cam’st, +And from the worn and fingered book +Thy prayers didst prattle, +Half sport of childhood, +Half God within thee! +Margaret! +Where tends thy thought? +Within thy bosom +What hidden crime? +Pray’st thou for mercy on thy mother’s soul, +That fell asleep to long, long torment, and through thee? +Upon thy threshold whose the blood? +And stirreth not and quickens +Something beneath thy heart, +Thy life disquieting +With most foreboding presence? + +MARGARET + +Woe! woe! +Would I were free from the thoughts +That cross me, drawing hither and thither +Despite me! + +CHORUS + + _Diesira, dies illa, + Solvet soeclum in favilla_! + _(Sound of the organ_.) + +EVIL SPIRIT + +Wrath takes thee! +The trumpet peals! +The graves tremble! +And thy heart +From ashy rest +To fiery torments +Now again requickened, +Throbs to life! + +MARGARET + +Would I were forth! +I feel as if the organ here +My breath takes from me, +My very heart +Dissolved by the anthem! + + +CHORUS + + _Judex ergo cum sedebit, + Quidquid latet, ad parebit, + Nil inultum remanebit_. +MARGARET + +I cannot breathe! +The massy pillars +Imprison me! +The vaulted arches +Crush me!—Air! + +EVIL SPIRIT + +Hide thyself! Sin and shame +Stay never hidden. +Air? Light? +Woe to thee! + +CHORUS + + _Quid sum miser tunc dicturus, + Quem patronem rogaturus, + Cum vix Justus sit securus_? + +EVIL SPIRIT + +They turn their faces, +The glorified, from thee: +The pure, their hands to offer, +Shuddering, refuse thee! +Woe! + +CHORUS + +_Quid sum miser tune dicturus_? + +MARGARET + +Neighbor! your cordial! (_She falls in a swoon_.) + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXI + + +WALPURGIS-NIGHT + +THE HARTZ MOUNTAINS. + +_District of Schierke and Elend_. + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +DOST thou not wish a broomstick-steed’s assistance? +The sturdiest he-goat I would gladly see: +The way we take, our goal is yet some distance. + +FAUST + +So long as in my legs I feel the fresh existence. +This knotted staff suffices me. +What need to shorten so the way? +Along this labyrinth of vales to wander, +Then climb the rocky ramparts yonder, +Wherefrom the fountain flings eternal spray, +Is such delight, my steps would fain delay. +The spring-time stirs within the fragrant birches, +And even the fir-tree feels it now: +Should then our limbs escape its gentle searches? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I notice no such thing, I vow! +’Tis winter still within my body: +Upon my path I wish for frost and snow. +How sadly rises, incomplete and ruddy, +The moon’s lone disk, with its belated glow, +And lights so dimly, that, as one advances, +At every step one strikes a rock or tree! +Let us, then, use a Jack-o’-lantern’s glances: +I see one yonder, burning merrily. +Ho, there! my friend! I’ll levy thine attendance: +Why waste so vainly thy resplendence? +Be kind enough to light us up the steep! + +WILL-O’-THE-WISP + +My reverence, I hope, will me enable +To curb my temperament unstable; +For zigzag courses we are wont to keep. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Indeed? he’d like mankind to imitate! +Now, in the Devil’s name, go straight, +Or I’ll blow out his being’s flickering spark! + +WILL-O’-THE-WISP + +You are the master of the house, I mark, +And I shall try to serve you nicely. +But then, reflect: the mountain’s magic-mad to-day, +And if a will-o’-the-wisp must guide you on the way, +You mustn’t take things too precisely. + +FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, WILL-O’-THE-WISP + +(_in alternating song_) + + We, it seems, have entered newly + In the sphere of dreams enchanted. + Do thy bidding, guide us truly, + That our feet be forwards planted + In the vast, the desert spaces! + See them swiftly changing places, + Trees on trees beside us trooping, + And the crags above us stooping, + And the rocky snouts, outgrowing,— + Hear them snoring, hear them blowing! + O’er the stones, the grasses, flowing + Stream and streamlet seek the hollow. + Hear I noises? songs that follow? + Hear I tender love-petitions? + Voices of those heavenly visions? + Sounds of hope, of love undying! + And the echoes, like traditions + Of old days, come faint and hollow. + + Hoo-hoo! Shoo-hoo! Nearer hover + Jay and screech-owl, and the plover,— + Are they all awake and crying? + Is’t the salamander pushes, + Bloated-bellied, through the bushes? + And the roots, like serpents twisted, + Through the sand and boulders toiling, + Fright us, weirdest links uncoiling + To entrap us, unresisted: + Living knots and gnarls uncanny + Feel with polypus-antennae + For the wanderer. Mice are flying, + Thousand-colored, herd-wise hieing + Through the moss and through the heather! + + And the fire-flies wink and darkle, + Crowded swarms that soar and sparkle, + And in wildering escort gather! + + Tell me, if we still are standing, + Or if further we’re ascending? + All is turning, whirling, blending, + Trees and rocks with grinning faces, + Wandering lights that spin in mazes, + Still increasing and expanding! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Grasp my skirt with heart undaunted! +Here a middle-peak is planted, +Whence one seeth, with amaze, +Mammon in the mountain blaze. + +FAUST + +How strangely glimmers through the hollows +A dreary light, like that of dawn! +Its exhalation tracks and follows +The deepest gorges, faint and wan. +Here steam, there rolling vapor sweepeth; +Here burns the glow through film and haze: +Now like a tender thread it creepeth, +Now like a fountain leaps and plays. +Here winds away, and in a hundred +Divided veins the valley braids: +There, in a corner pressed and sundered, +Itself detaches, spreads and fades. +Here gush the sparkles incandescent +Like scattered showers of golden sand;— +But, see! in all their height, at present, +The rocky ramparts blazing stand. + +[Illustration: _Under the old ribs of the rock retreating_,] + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Has not Sir Mammon grandly lighted +His palace for this festal night? +’Tis lucky thou hast seen the sight; +The boisterous guests approach that were invited. + +FAUST + +How raves the tempest through the air! +With what fierce blows upon my neck ’tis beating! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Under the old ribs of the rock retreating, +Hold fast, lest thou be hurled down the abysses there! +The night with the mist is black; +Hark! how the forests grind and crack! +Frightened, the owlets are scattered: +Hearken! the pillars are shattered. +The evergreen palaces shaking! +Boughs are groaning and breaking, +The tree-trunks terribly thunder, +The roots are twisting asunder! +In frightfully intricate crashing +Each on the other is dashing, +And over the wreck-strewn gorges +The tempest whistles and surges! +Hear’st thou voices higher ringing? +Far away, or nearer singing? +Yes, the mountain’s side along, +Sweeps an infuriate glamouring song! + +WITCHES (_in chorus_) + + The witches ride to the Brocken’s top, + The stubble is yellow, and green the crop. + There gathers the crowd for carnival: + Sir Urian sits over all. + + And so they go over stone and stock; + The witch she——s, and——s the buck. + +A VOICE + + Alone, old Baubo’s coming now; + She rides upon a farrow-sow. + +CHORUS + + Then honor to whom the honor is due! + Dame Baubo first, to lead the crew! + A tough old sow and the mother thereon, + Then follow the witches, every one. + +A VOICE + +Which way com’st thou hither? + +VOICE + +O’er the Ilsen-stone. +I peeped at the owl in her nest alone: +How she stared and glared! + +VOICE + +Betake thee to Hell! +Why so fast and so fell? + +VOICE + +She has scored and has flayed me: +See the wounds she has made me! + +WITCHES (_chorus_) + + The way is wide, the way is long: + See, what a wild and crazy throng! + The broom it scratches, the fork it thrusts, + The child is stifled, the mother bursts. +WIZARDS (_semichorus_) + + As doth the snail in shell, we crawl: + Before us go the women all. + When towards the Devil’s House we tread, + Woman’s a thousand steps ahead. + +OTHER SEMICHORUS + + We do not measure with such care: + Woman in thousand steps is theft. + But howsoe’er she hasten may, + Man in one leap has cleared the way. + +VOICE (_from above_) + +Come on, come on, from Rocky Lake! + +VOICE (_from below_) + +Aloft we’d fain ourselves betake. +We’ve washed, and are bright as ever you will, +Yet we’re eternally sterile still. + +BOTH CHORUSES + + The wind is hushed, the star shoots by. + The dreary moon forsakes the sky; + The magic notes, like spark on spark, + Drizzle, whistling through the dark. + +VOICE (_from below_) + +Halt, there! Ho, there! + +VOICE (_from above_) + +Who calls from the rocky cleft below there? + +VOICE (_below_) + +Take me, too! take me, too! +I’m climbing now three hundred years, +And yet the summit cannot see: +Among my equals I would be. + +BOTH CHORUSES + + Bears the broom and bears the stock, + Bears the fork and bears the buck: + Who cannot raise himself to-night + Is evermore a ruined wight. + +HALF-WITCH (_below_) + +So long I stumble, ill bestead, +And the others are now so far ahead! +At home I’ve neither rest nor cheer, +And yet I cannot gain them here. + +CHORUS OF WITCHES + + To cheer the witch will salve avail; + A rag will answer for a sail; + Each trough a goodly ship supplies; + He ne’er will fly, who now not flies. + +BOTH CHORUSES + + When round the summit whirls our flight, + Then lower, and on the ground alight; + And far and wide the heather press + With witchhood’s swarms of wantonness! + +(_They settle down_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +They crowd and push, they roar and clatter! +They whirl and whistle, pull and chatter! +They shine, and spirt, and stink, and burn! +The true witch-element we learn. +Keep close! or we are parted, in our turn, +Where art thou? + +FAUST (_in the distance_) + +Here! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What! whirled so far astray? +Then house-right I must use, and clear the way. +Make room! Squire Voland comes! Room, gentle rabble, +room! + +Here, Doctor, hold to me: in one jump we’ll resume +An easier space, and from the crowd be free: +It’s too much, even for the like of me. +Yonder, with special light, there’s something shining clearer +Within those bushes; I’ve a mind to see. +Come on! we’ll slip a little nearer. + +FAUST + +Spirit of Contradiction! On! I’ll follow straight. +’Tis planned most wisely, if I judge aright: +We climb the Brocken’s top in the Walpurgis-Night, +That arbitrarily, here, ourselves we isolate. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But see, what motley flames among the heather! +There is a lively club together: +In smaller circles one is not alone. + +FAUST + +Better the summit, I must own: +There fire and whirling smoke I see. +They seek the Evil One in wild confusion: +Many enigmas there might find solution. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But there enigmas also knotted be. +Leave to the multitude their riot! +Here will we house ourselves in quiet. +It is an old, transmitted trade, +That in the greater world the little worlds are made. +I see stark-nude young witches congregate, +And old ones, veiled and hidden shrewdly: +On my account be kind, nor treat them rudely! +The trouble’s small, the fun is great. +I hear the noise of instruments attuning,— +Vile din! yet one must learn to bear the crooning. +Come, come along! It _must_ be, I declare! +I’ll go ahead and introduce thee there, +Thine obligation newly earning. +That is no little space: what say’st thou, friend? +Look yonder! thou canst scarcely see the end: +A hundred fires along the ranks are burning. +They dance, they chat, they cook, they drink, they court: +Now where, just tell me, is there better sport? + +FAUST + +Wilt thou, to introduce us to the revel, +Assume the part of wizard or of devil? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I’m mostly used, ’tis true, to go incognito, +But on a gala-day one may his orders show. +The Garter does not deck my suit, +But honored and at home is here the cloven foot. +Perceiv’st thou yonder snail? It cometh, slow and steady; +So delicately its feelers pry, +That it hath scented me already: +I cannot here disguise me, if I try. +But come! we’ll go from this fire to a newer: +I am the go-between, and thou the wooer. + +(_To some, who are sitting around dying embers_:) + +Old gentlemen, why at the outskirts? Enter! +I’d praise you if I found you snugly in the centre, +With youth and revel round you like a zone: +You each, at home, are quite enough alone. + +GENERAL + +Say, who would put his trust in nations, +Howe’er for them one may have worked and planned? +For with the people, as with women, +Youth always has the upper hand. + +MINISTER + +They’re now too far from what is just and sage. +I praise the old ones, not unduly: +When we were all-in-all, then, truly, +_Then_ was the real golden age. + +PARVENU + +We also were not stupid, either, +And what we should not, often did; +But now all things have from their bases slid, +Just as we meant to hold them fast together. + +AUTHOR + +Who, now, a work of moderate sense will read? +Such works are held as antiquate and mossy; +And as regards the younger folk, indeed, +They never yet have been so pert and saucy. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_who all at once appears very old_) + +I feel that men are ripe for Judgment-Day, +Now for the last time I’ve the witches’-hill ascended: +Since to the lees _my_ cask is drained away, +The world’s, as well, must soon be ended. + +HUCKSTER-WITCH + +Ye gentlemen, don’t pass me thus! +Let not the chance neglected be! +Behold my wares attentively: +The stock is rare and various. +And yet, there’s nothing I’ve collected— +No shop, on earth, like this you’ll find!— +Which has not, once, sore hurt inflicted +Upon the world, and on mankind. +No dagger’s here, that set not blood to flowing; +No cup, that hath not once, within a healthy frame +Poured speedy death, in poison glowing: +No gems, that have not brought a maid to shame; +No sword, but severed ties for the unwary, +Or from behind struck down the adversary. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Gossip! the times thou badly comprehendest: +What’s done has happed—what haps, is done! +’Twere better if for novelties thou sendest: +By such alone can we be won. + +FAUST + +Let me not lose myself in all this pother! +This is a fair, as never was another! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The whirlpool swirls to get above: +Thou’rt shoved thyself, imagining to shove. + +FAUST + +But who is that? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Note her especially, +Tis Lilith. + +FAUST + +Who? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Adam’s first wife is she. +Beware the lure within her lovely tresses, +The splendid sole adornment of her hair! +When she succeeds therewith a youth to snare, +Not soon again she frees him from her jesses. + +FAUST + +Those two, the old one with the young one sitting, +They’ve danced already more than fitting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No rest to-night for young or old! +They start another dance: come now, let us take hold! + +FAUST (_dancing with the young witch_) + + A lovely dream once came to me; + I then beheld an apple-tree, + And there two fairest apples shone: + They lured me so, I climbed thereon. + +THE FAIR ONE + + Apples have been desired by you, + Since first in Paradise they grew; + And I am moved with joy, to know + That such within my garden grow. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_dancing with the old one_) + + A dissolute dream once came to me: + Therein I saw a cloven tree, + Which had a————————; + Yet,——as ’twas, I fancied it. + +THE OLD ONE + + I offer here my best salute + Unto the knight with cloven foot! + Let him a—————prepare, + If him—————————does not scare. + +PROKTOPHANTASMIST + +Accurséd folk! How dare you venture thus? +Had you not, long since, demonstration +That ghosts can’t stand on ordinary foundation? +And now you even dance, like one of us! + +THE FAIR ONE (_dancing_) + +Why does he come, then, to our ball? + +FAUST (_dancing_) + +O, everywhere on him you fall! +When others dance, he weighs the matter: +If he can’t every step bechatter, +Then ’tis the same as were the step not made; +But if you forwards go, his ire is most displayed. +If you would whirl in regular gyration +As he does in his dull old mill, +He’d show, at any rate, good-will,— +Especially if you heard and heeded his hortation. + +PROKTOPHANTASMIST + +You still are here? Nay, ’tis a thing unheard! +Vanish, at once! We’ve said the enlightening word. +The pack of devils by no rules is daunted: +We are so wise, and yet is Tegel haunted. +To clear the folly out, how have I swept and stirred! +Twill ne’er be clean: why, ’tis a thing unheard! + +THE FAIR ONE + +Then cease to bore us at our ball! + +PROKTOPHANTASMIST + +I tell you, spirits, to your face, +I give to spirit-despotism no place; +My spirit cannot practise it at all. + +(_The dance continues_) + +Naught will succeed, I see, amid such revels; +Yet something from a tour I always save, +And hope, before my last step to the grave, +To overcome the poets and the devils. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +He now will seat him in the nearest puddle; +The solace this, whereof he’s most assured: +And when upon his rump the leeches hang and fuddle, +He’ll be of spirits and of Spirit cured. + +(_To_ FAUST, _who has left the dance_:) + +Wherefore forsakest thou the lovely maiden, +That in the dance so sweetly sang? + +FAUST + +Ah! in the midst of it there sprang +A red mouse from her mouth—sufficient reason. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That’s nothing! One must not so squeamish be; +So the mouse was not gray, enough for thee. +Who’d think of that in love’s selected season? + +FAUST + +Then saw I—. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What? + +FAUST + +Mephisto, seest thou there, +Alone and far, a girl most pale and fair? +She falters on, her way scarce knowing, +As if with fettered feet that stay her going. +I must confess, it seems to me +As if my kindly Margaret were she. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Let the thing be! All thence have evil drawn: +It is a magic shape, a lifeless eidolon. +Such to encounter is not good: +Their blank, set stare benumbs the human blood, +And one is almost turned to stone. +Medusa’s tale to thee is known. + +FAUST + +Forsooth, the eyes they are of one whom, dying, +No hand with loving pressure closed; +That is the breast whereon I once was lying,— +The body sweet, beside which I reposed! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Tis magic all, thou fool, seduced so easily! +Unto each man his love she seems to be. + +FAUST + +The woe, the rapture, so ensnare me, +That from her gaze I cannot tear me! +And, strange! around her fairest throat +A single scarlet band is gleaming, +No broader than a knife-blade seeming! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Quite right! The mark I also note. +Her head beneath her arm she’ll sometimes carry; +Twas Perseus lopped it, her old adversary. +Thou crav’st the same illusion still! +Come, let us mount this little hill; +The Prater shows no livelier stir, +And, if they’ve not bewitched my sense, +I verily see a theatre. +What’s going on? + +SERVIBILIS + ’Twill shortly recommence: +A new performance—’tis the last of seven. +To give that number is the custom here: +’Twas by a Dilettante written, +And Dilettanti in the parts appear. +That now I vanish, pardon, I entreat you! +As Dilettante I the curtain raise. + +MEPHISTOPHELES +When I upon the Blocksberg meet you, +I find it good: for that’s your proper place. + + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXII + + +WALPURGIS-NIGHT’S DREAM + +OBERON AND TITANIA’s GOLDEN WEDDING + +INTERMEZZO + +MANAGER + +Sons of Mieding, rest to-day! +Needless your machinery: +Misty vale and mountain gray, +That is all the scenery. + +HERALD + +That the wedding golden be. +Must fifty years be rounded: +But _the Golden_ give to me, +When the strife’s compounded. + +OBERON + +Spirits, if you’re here, be seen— +Show yourselves, delighted! +Fairy king and fairy queen, +They are newly plighted. + +PUCK + +Cometh Puck, and, light of limb, +Whisks and whirls in measure: +Come a hundred after him, +To share with him the pleasure. + +ARIEL + +Ariel’s song is heavenly-pure, +His tones are sweet and rare ones: +Though ugly faces he allure, +Yet he allures the fair ones. + +OBERON + +Spouses, who would fain agree, +Learn how we were mated! +If your pairs would loving be, +First be separated! + +TITANIA + +If her whims the wife control, +And the man berate her, +Take him to the Northern Pole, +And her to the Equator! + +ORCHESTRA. TUTTI. + +_Fortissimo_. + +Snout of fly, mosquito-bill, +And kin of all conditions, +Frog in grass, and cricket-trill,— +These are the musicians! + +SOLO + +See the bagpipe on our track! +’Tis the soap-blown bubble: +Hear the _schnecke-schnicke-schnack_ +Through his nostrils double! + +SPIRIT, JUST GROWING INTO FORM + +Spider’s foot and paunch of toad, +And little wings—we know ’em! +A little creature ’twill not be, +But yet, a little poem. + +A LITTLE COUPLE + +Little step and lofty leap +Through honey-dew and fragrance: +You’ll never mount the airy steep +With all your tripping vagrance. + +INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER + +Is’t but masquerading play? +See I with precision? +Oberon, the beauteous fay, +Meets, to-night, my vision! + +ORTHODOX + +Not a claw, no tail I see! +And yet, beyond a cavil, +Like “the Gods of Greece,” must he +Also be a devil. + +NORTHERN ARTIST + +I only seize, with sketchy air, +Some outlines of the tourney; +Yet I betimes myself prepare +For my Italian journey. + +PURIST + +My bad luck brings me here, alas! +How roars the orgy louder! +And of the witches in the mass, +But only two wear powder. + +YOUNG WITCH + +Powder becomes, like petticoat, +A gray and wrinkled noddy; +So I sit naked on my goat, +And show a strapping body. + +MATRON + +We’ve too much tact and policy +To rate with gibes a scolder; +Yet, young and tender though you be, +I hope to see you moulder. + +LEADER OF THE BAND + +Fly-snout and mosquito-bill, +Don’t swarm so round the Naked! +Frog in grass and cricket-trill, +Observe the time, and make it! + +WEATHERCOCK (_towards one side_) + +Society to one’s desire! +Brides only, and the sweetest! +And bachelors of youth and fire. +And prospects the completest! + +WEATHERCOCK (_towards the other side_) + +And if the Earth don’t open now +To swallow up each ranter, +Why, then will I myself, I vow, +Jump into hell instanter! + +XENIES + +Us as little insects see! +With sharpest nippers flitting, +That our Papa Satan we +May honor as is fitting. + +HENNINGS + +How, in crowds together massed, +They are jesting, shameless! +They will even say, at last, +That their hearts are blameless. + +MUSAGETES + +Among this witches’ revelry +His way one gladly loses; +And, truly, it would easier be +Than to command the Muses. + +CI-DEVANT GENIUS OF THE AGE + +The proper folks one’s talents laud: +Come on, and none shall pass us! +The Blocksberg has a summit broad, +Like Germany’s Parnassus. + +INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER + +Say, who’s the stiff and pompous man? +He walks with haughty paces: +He snuffles all he snuffle can: +“He scents the Jesuits’ traces.” + +CRANE + +Both clear and muddy streams, for me +Are good to fish and sport in: +And thus the pious man you see +With even devils consorting. + +WORLDLING + +Yes, for the pious, I suspect, +All instruments are fitting; +And on the Blocksberg they erect +Full many a place of meeting. + +DANCER + +A newer chorus now succeeds! +I hear the distant drumming. +“Don’t be disturbed! ’tis, in the reeds, +The bittern’s changeless booming.” + +DANCING-MASTER + +How each his legs in nimble trip +Lifts up, and makes a clearance! +The crooked jump, the heavy skip, +Nor care for the appearance. + +GOOD FELLOW + +The rabble by such hate are held, +To maim and slay delights them: +As Orpheus’ lyre the brutes compelled, +The bagpipe here unites them. + +DOGMATIST + +I’ll not be led by any lure +Of doubts or critic-cavils: +The Devil must be something, sure,— +Or how should there be devils? + +IDEALIST + +This once, the fancy wrought in me +Is really too despotic: +Forsooth, if I am all I see, +I must be idiotic! + +REALIST + +This racking fuss on every hand, +It gives me great vexation; +And, for the first time, here I stand +On insecure foundation. + +SUPERNATURALIST + +With much delight I see the play, +And grant to these their merits, +Since from the devils I also may +Infer the better spirits. + +SCEPTIC + +The flame they follow, on and on, +And think they’re near the treasure: +But _Devil_ rhymes with _Doubt_ alone, +So I am here with pleasure. + +LEADER OF THE BAND + +Frog in green, and cricket-trill. +Such dilettants!—perdition! +Fly-snout and mosquito-bill,— +Each one’s a fine musician! + +THE ADROIT + +_Sans souci_, we call the clan +Of merry creatures so, then; +Go a-foot no more we can, +And on our heads we go, then. + +THE AWKWARD + +Once many a bit we sponged, but now, +God help us! that is done with: +Our shoes are all danced out, we trow, +We’ve but naked soles to run with. + +WILL-O’-THE WISPS + +From the marshes we appear, +Where we originated; +Yet in the ranks, at once, we’re here +As glittering gallants rated. + +SHOOTING-STAR + +Darting hither from the sky, +In star and fire light shooting, +Cross-wise now in grass I lie: +Who’ll help me to my footing? + +THE HEAVY FELLOWS + +Room! and round about us, room! +Trodden are the grasses: +Spirits also, spirits come, +And they are bulky masses. + +PUCK + +Enter not so stall-fed quite, +Like elephant-calves about one! +And the heaviest weight to-night +Be Puck, himself, the stout one! + +ARIEL + +If loving Nature at your back, +Or Mind, the wings uncloses, +Follow up my airy track +To the mount of roses! + +ORCHESTRA + +_pianissimo_ +Cloud and trailing mist o’erhead +Are now illuminated: +Air in leaves, and wind in reed, +And all is dissipated. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXIII + + +DREARY DAY + +A FIELD + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +In misery! In despair! Long wretchedly astray on the face of the earth, +and now imprisoned! That gracious, ill-starred creature shut in a +dungeon as a criminal, and given up to fearful torments! To this has it +come! to this!—Treacherous, contemptible spirit, and thou hast +concealed it from me!—Stand, then,—stand! Roll the devilish eyes +wrathfully in thy head! Stand and defy me with thine intolerable +presence! Imprisoned! In irretrievable misery! Delivered up to evil +spirits, and to condemning, unfeeling Man! And thou hast lulled me, +meanwhile, with the most insipid dissipations, hast concealed from me +her increasing wretchedness, and suffered her to go helplessly to ruin! +[Illustration: _Roll the devilish eyes wrathfully in thy head_] + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +She is not the first. + +FAUST + +Dog! Abominable monster! Transform him, thou Infinite Spirit! transform +the reptile again into his dog-shape? in which it pleased him often at +night to scamper on before me, to roll himself at the feet of the +unsuspecting wanderer, and hang upon his shoulders when he fell! +Transform him again into his favorite likeness, that he may crawl upon +his belly in the dust before me,—that I may trample him, the outlawed, +under foot! Not the first! O woe! woe which no human soul can grasp, +that more than one being should sink into the depths of this +misery,—that the first, in its writhing death-agony under the eyes of +the Eternal Forgiver, did not expiate the guilt of all others! The +misery of this single one pierces to the very marrow of my life; and +thou art calmly grinning at the fate of thousands! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Now we are already again at the end of our wits, where the understanding +of you men runs wild. Why didst thou enter into fellowship with us, if +thou canst not carry it out? Wilt fly, and art not secure against +dizziness? Did we thrust ourselves upon thee, or thou thyself upon us? + +FAUST + +Gnash not thus thy devouring teeth at me? It fills me with horrible +disgust. Mighty, glorious Spirit, who hast vouchsafed to me Thine +apparition, who knowest my heart and my soul, why fetter me to the +felon-comrade, who feeds on mischief and gluts himself with ruin? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Hast thou done? + +FAUST + +Rescue her, or woe to thee! The fearfullest curse be upon thee for +thousands of ages! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I cannot loosen the bonds of the Avenger, nor undo his bolts. Rescue +her? Who was it that plunged her into ruin? I, or thou? + +(FAUST _looks around wildly_.) + +Wilt thou grasp the thunder? Well that it has not been given to you, +miserable mortals! To crush to pieces the innocent respondent—that is +the tyrant-fashion of relieving one’s self in embarrassments. + +FAUST + +Take me thither! She shall be free! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And the danger to which thou wilt expose thyself? Know that the guilt of +blood, from thy hand, still lies upon the town! Avenging spirits hover +over the spot where the victim fell, and lie in wait for the returning +murderer. + +FAUST + +That, too, from thee? Murder and death of a world upon thee, monster! +Take me thither, I say, and liberate her! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I will convey thee there; and hear, what I can do! Have I all the power +in Heaven and on Earth? I will becloud the jailer’s senses: get +possession of the key, and lead her forth with human hand! I will keep +watch: the magic steeds are ready, I will carry you off. So much is in +my power. + +FAUST + +Up and away! + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXIV + + +NIGHT + +OPEN FIELD + +(FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES _speeding onward on black horses_.) + + +FAUST + +What weave they there round the raven-stone? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I know not what they are brewing and doing. + + +FAUST + +Soaring up, sweeping down, bowing and bending! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A witches’-guild. + + +FAUST + +They scatter, devote and doom! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +On! on! + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXV + + +DUNGEON + +FAUST + +(_with a bunch of keys and a lamp, before an iron door_) + +A shudder, long unfelt, comes o’er me; +Mankind’s collected woe o’erwhelms me, here. +She dwells within the dark, damp walls before me, +And all her crime was a delusion dear! +What! I delay to free her? +I dread, once again to see her? +On! my shrinking but lingers Death more near. + +(_He grasps the lock: the sound of singing is heard inside_.) + + _My mother, the harlot, + Who put me to death; + My father, the varlet, + Who eaten me hath! + Little sister, so good, + Laid my bones in the wood, + In the damp moss and clay:_ + _Then was I a beautiful bird o’ the wood; + Fly away! Fly away_! + +FAUST _(unlocking)_ + +She does not dream her lover listens near; +That he the rattling chain, the rustling straw, can hear. + +_(He enters_.) + +MARGARET (_hiding herself on the pallet_) +Woe! woe! They come. O death of bitterness! + +FAUST (_whispering_) +Hush! hush! The hour is come that frees thee. + +MARGARET (_throwing herself before him_) +Art thou a man, then pity my distress! + +FAUST +Thy cries will wake the guards, and they will seize thee! +(_He takes hold of the fetters to unlock them_.) + +MARGARET (_on her knees_) + +Who, headsman! unto thee such power +Over me could give? +Thou’rt come for me at midnight-hour: +Have mercy on me, let me live! +Is’t not soon enough when morning chime has run? + +(_She rises_.) + +And I am yet so young, so young! +And now Death comes, and ruin! +I, too, was fair, and that was my undoing. +My love was near, but now he’s far; +Torn lies the wreath, scattered the blossoms are. +Seize me not thus so violently! +Spare me! What have I done to thee? +Let me not vainly entreat thee! +I never chanced, in all my days, to meet thee! + + +FAUST + +Shall I outlive this misery? + + +MARGARET + +Now am I wholly in thy might. +But let me suckle, first, my baby! +I blissed it all this livelong night; +They took ’t away, to vex me, maybe, +And now they say I killed the child outright. +And never shall I be glad again. +They sing songs about me! ’tis bad of the folk to do it! +There’s an old story has the same refrain; +Who bade them so construe it? + + +FAUST (_falling upon his knees_) + +Here lieth one who loves thee ever, +The thraldom of thy woe to sever. + + +MARGARET (_flinging herself beside him_) + +O let us kneel, and call the Saints to hide us! +Under the steps beside us, +The threshold under, +Hell heaves in thunder! +The Evil One +With terrible wrath +Seeketh a path +His prey to discover! + +FAUST (_aloud_) + +Margaret! Margaret! + + +MARGARET (_attentively listening_) + +That was the voice of my lover! + +(_She springs to her feet: the fetters fall off_.) + +Where is he? I heard him call me. +I am free! No one shall enthrall me. +To his neck will I fly, +On his bosom lie! +On the threshold he stood, and _Margaret_! calling, +Midst of Hell’s howling and noises appalling, +Midst of the wrathful, infernal derision, +I knew the sweet sound of the voice of the vision! + + +FAUST + +’Tis I! + +MARGARET + + ’Tis thou! O, say it once again! + + (_Clasping him_.) + +’Tis he! ’tis he! Where now is all my pain? +The anguish of the dungeon, and the chain? +’Tis thou! Thou comest to save me, +And I am saved!— +Again the street I see +Where first I looked on thee; +And the garden, brightly blooming, +Where I and Martha wait thy coming. + + +FAUST (_struggling to leave_) + +Come! Come with me! + + +MARGARET + + Delay, now! +So fain I stay, when thou delayest! + + (_Caressing him_.) + + +FAUST + +Away, now! +If longer here thou stayest, +We shall be made to dearly rue it. + +MARGARET + +Kiss me!—canst no longer do it? +My friend, so short a time thou’rt missing, +And hast unlearned thy kissing? +Why is my heart so anxious, on thy breast? +Where once a heaven thy glances did create me, +A heaven thy loving words expressed, +And thou didst kiss, as thou wouldst suffocate me— +Kiss me! +Or I’ll kiss thee! + +(_She embraces him_.) + +Ah, woe! thy lips are chill, +And still. +How changed in fashion +Thy passion! +Who has done me this ill? + +(_She turns away from him_.) + +FAUST + +Come, follow me! My darling, be more bold: +I’ll clasp thee, soon, with warmth a thousand-fold; +But follow now! ’Tis all I beg of thee. + +MARGARET (_turning to him_) + +And is it thou? Thou, surely, certainly? + +FAUST + +’Tis I! Come on! + +MARGARET + +Thou wilt unloose my chain, +And in thy lap wilt take me once again. +How comes it that thou dost not shrink from me?— +Say, dost thou know, my friend, whom thou mak’st free? + +FAUST + +Come! come! The night already vanisheth. + + +MARGARET + +My mother have I put to death; +I’ve drowned the baby born to thee. +Was it not given to thee and me? +Thee, too!—’Tis thou! It scarcely true doth seem— +Give me thy hand! ’Tis not a dream! +Thy dear, dear hand!—But, ah, ’tis wet! +Why, wipe it off! Methinks that yet +There’s blood thereon. +Ah, God! what hast thou done? +Nay, sheathe thy sword at last! +Do not affray me! + + +FAUST + +O, let the past be past! +Thy words will slay me! + + +MARGARET + +No, no! Thou must outlive us. +Now I’ll tell thee the graves to give us: +Thou must begin to-morrow +The work of sorrow! +The best place give to my mother, +Then close at her side my brother, +And me a little away, +But not too very far, I pray! +And here, on my right breast, my baby lay! +Nobody else will lie beside me!— +Ah, within thine arms to hide me, +That was a sweet and a gracious bliss, +But no more, no more can I attain it! +I would force myself on thee and constrain it, +And it seems thou repellest my kiss: +And yet ’tis thou, so good, so kind to see! + + +FAUST + +If thou feel’st it is I, then come with me! + + +MARGARET + +Out yonder? + + +FAUST + +To freedom. + + +MARGARET + + If the grave is there, +Death lying in wait, then come! +From here to eternal rest: +No further step—no, no! +Thou goest away! O Henry, if I could go! + + +FAUST + +Thou canst! Just will it! Open stands the door. + + +MARGARET + +I dare not go: there’s no hope any more. +Why should I fly? They’ll still my steps waylay! +It is so wretched, forced to beg my living, +And a bad conscience sharper misery giving! +It is so wretched, to be strange, forsaken, +And I’d still be followed and taken! + + +FAUST + +I’ll stay with thee. + + +MARGARET + +Be quick! Be quick! +Save thy perishing child! +Away! Follow the ridge +Up by the brook, + +[Illustration: _=If the grave is there, +Death lying in wait, then come=_!] + +Over the bridge, +Into the wood, +To the left, where the plank is placed +In the pool! +Seize it in haste! +’Tis trying to rise, +’Tis struggling still! +Save it! Save it! + + +FAUST + +Recall thy wandering will! +One step, and thou art free at last! + + +MARGARET + +If the mountain we had only passed! +There sits my mother upon a stone,— +I feel an icy shiver! +There sits my mother upon a stone, +And her head is wagging ever. +She beckons, she nods not, her heavy head falls o’er; +She slept so long that she wakes no more. +She slept, while we were caressing: +Ah, those were the days of blessing! + + +FAUST + +Here words and prayers are nothing worth; +I’ll venture, then, to bear thee forth. + + +MARGARET + +No—let me go! I’ll suffer no force! +Grasp me not so murderously! +I’ve done, else, all things for the love of thee. + + +FAUST + +The day dawns: Dearest! Dearest! + +MARGARET + +Day? Yes, the day comes,—the last day breaks for me! +My wedding-day it was to be! +Tell no one thou has been with Margaret! +Woe for my garland! The chances +Are over—’tis all in vain! +We shall meet once again, +But not at the dances! +The crowd is thronging, no word is spoken: +The square below +And the streets overflow: +The death-bell tolls, the wand is broken. +I am seized, and bound, and delivered— +Shoved to the block—they give the sign! +Now over each neck has quivered +The blade that is quivering over mine. +Dumb lies the world like the grave! + +FAUST + +O had I ne’er been born! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_appears outside_) + +Off! or you’re lost ere morn. +Useless talking, delaying and praying! +My horses are neighing: +The morning twilight is near. + +MARGARET + +What rises up from the threshold here? +He! he! suffer him not! +What does he want in this holy spot? +He seeks me! + + +FAUST + +Thou shalt live. + +MARGARET + +Judgment of God! myself to thee I give. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Come! or I’ll leave her in the lurch, and thee! + + +MARGARET + +Thine am I, Father! rescue me! +Ye angels, holy cohorts, guard me, +Camp around, and from evil ward me! +Henry! I shudder to think of thee. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +She is judged! + + +VOICE (_from above_) + + She is saved! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + + Hither to me! + +(_He disappears with_ FAUST.) + + +VOICE (_from within, dying away_) + +Henry! Henry! + +[illustration] + +[Illustration] + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14591 *** diff --git a/old/14591-h/14591-h.htm b/old/14591-h/14591-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0a4a179 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14591-h/14591-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7970 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title>Faust | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> +<style> + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +p.caption {font-weight: bold; + text-align: center; } + + .center {text-align: center;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + .indented {padding-left: 50pt;padding-right: 50pt;} + .indenteds {padding-left: 75pt;padding-right: 75pt;} + .indentedss {padding-left: 100pt;padding-right: 100pt;} + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14591 ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-001.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-002.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-003.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 35%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-004.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-005.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<h1>FAUST</h1> + +<p class="center"><i>by</i><br> + </p> + <h2>Johann Wolfgang von Goethe</h2> + <p class="center">WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY<br> + </p> + <h3>Harry Clarke</h3> + <p class="center">TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH, IN THE ORIGINAL METRES, BY<br> + </p> + <h3>Bayard Taylor</h3> + <p class="center"><i>An Illustrated Edition</i><br> + </p> + <p class="center">THE WORLD PUBLISHING COMPANY<br> + </p> + <p class="center">CLEVELAND, OHIO NEW YORK, N.Y.<br> + </p> + <p class="center">PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA<br> + </p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-008.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-009.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class='chapter'><h2>CONTENTS</h2></div> + +<table> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#Preface">PREFACE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#AN_GOETHE">AN GOETHE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#DEDICATION">DEDICATION</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#PRELUDE_AT_THE_THEATRE">PRELUDE AT THE THEATRE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#PROLOGUE_IN_HEAVEN">PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN</a><br><br></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> FAUST</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#I">SCENE I. NIGHT (<i>Faust’s Monologue</i>)</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#II">II. BEFORE THE CITY-GATE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#III">III. THE STUDY (<i>The Exorcism</i>)</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#IV">IV. THE STUDY (<i>The Compact</i>)</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#V">V. AUERBACH’S CELLAR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#VI">VI. WITCHES’ KITCHEN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#VII">VII. A STREET</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#VIII">VIII. EVENING</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#IX">IX. PROMENADE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#X">X. THE NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XI">XI. STREET</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XII">XII. GARDEN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XIII">XIII. A GARDEN-ARBOR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XIV">XIV. FOREST AND CAVERN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XV">XV. MARGARET’S ROOM</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XVI">XVI. MARTHA’S GARDEN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XVII">XVII. AT THE FOUNTAIN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XVIII">XVIII. DONJON (<i>Margaret’s Prayer</i>)</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XIX">XIX. NIGHT (<i>Valentine’s Death</i>)</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XX">XX. CATHEDRAL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XXI">XXI. WALPURGIS-NIGHT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XXII">XXII. OBERON AND TITANIA’S GOLDEN WEDDING</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XXIII">XXIII. DREARY DAY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XXIV">XXIV. NIGHT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XXV">XXV. DUNGEON</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-010.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-012.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-013.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="Preface"></a>Preface</h2></div> + <p>It is twenty years since I first determined to attempt the translation of + <i>Faust</i>, in the original metres. At that time, although more than a score of + English translations of the First Part, and three or four of the Second Part, were in + existence, the experiment had not yet been made. The prose version of Hayward seemed + to have been accepted as the standard, in default of anything more satisfactory: the + English critics, generally sustaining the translator in his views concerning the + secondary importance of form in Poetry, practically discouraged any further attempt; + and no one, familiar with rhythmical expression through the needs of his own nature, + had devoted the necessary love and patience to an adequate reproduction of the great + work of Goethe’s life.</p> + <p>Mr. Brooks was the first to undertake the task, and the publication of his + translation of the First Part (in 1856) induced me, for a time, to give up my own + design. No previous English version exhibited such abnegation of the translator’s own + tastes and habits of thought, such reverent desire to present the original in its + purest form. The care and conscience with which the work had been performed were so + apparent, that I now state with reluctance what then seemed to me to be its only + deficiencies,—a lack of the lyrical fire and fluency of the original in some + passages, and an occasional lowering of the tone through the use of words which are + literal, but not equivalent. The plan of translation adopted by Mr. Brooks was so + entirely my own, that when further residence in Germany and a more careful study of + both parts of <i>Faust</i> had satisfied me that the field was still open,—that + the means furnished by the poetical affinity of the two languages had not yet been + exhausted,—nothing remained for me but to follow him in all essential + particulars. His example confirmed me in the belief that there were few difficulties + in the way of a nearly literal yet thoroughly rhythmical version of <i>Faust</i>, + which might not be overcome by loving labor. A comparison of seventeen English + translations, in the arbitrary metres adopted by the translators, sufficiently showed + the danger of allowing license in this respect: the white light of Goethe’s thought + was thereby passed through the tinted glass of other minds, and assumed the coloring + of each. Moreover, the plea of selecting different metres in the hope of producing a + similar effect is unreasonable, where the identical metres are possible.</p> + <p>The value of form, in a poetical work, is the first question to be considered. No + poet ever understood this question more thoroughly than Goethe himself, or expressed + a more positive opinion in regard to it. The alternative modes of translation which + he presents (reported by Riemer, quoted by Mrs. Austin, in her “Characteristics of + Goethe,” and accepted by Mr. Hayward),<a id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a + href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> are quite independent of his views + concerning the value of form, which we find given elsewhere, in the clearest and most + emphatic manner.<a id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" + class="fnanchor">[B]</a> Poetry is not simply a fashion of expression: it is the form + of expression absolutely required by a certain class of ideas. Poetry, indeed, may be + distinguished from Prose by the single circumstance, that it is the utterance of + whatever in man cannot be perfectly uttered in any other than a rhythmical form: it + is useless to say that the naked meaning is independent of the form: on the contrary, + the form contributes essentially to the fullness of the meaning. In Poetry which + endures through its own inherent vitality, there is no forced union of these two + elements. They are as intimately blended, and with the same mysterious beauty, as the + sexes in the ancient Hermaphroditus. To attempt to represent Poetry in Prose, is very + much like attempting to translate music into speech.<a id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a></p> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span + class="label">[A]</span></a> “‘There are two maxims of translation,’ says he: ‘the + one requires that the author, of a foreign nation, be brought to us in such a + manner that we may regard him as our own; the other, on the contrary, demands of us + that we transport ourselves over to him, and adopt his situation, his mode of + speaking, and his peculiarities. The advantages of both are sufficiently known to + all instructed persons, from masterly examples.’” Is it necessary, however, that + there should always be this alternative? Where the languages are kindred, and + equally capable of all varieties of metrical expression, may not both these + “maxims” be observed in the same translation? Goethe, it is true, was of the + opinion that <i>Faust</i> ought to be given, in French, in the manner of Clement + Marot; but this was undoubtedly because he felt the inadequacy of modern French to + express the naive, simple realism of many passages. The same objection does not + apply to English. There are a few archaic expressions in <i>Faust</i>, but no more + than are still allowed—nay, frequently encouraged—in the English of our + day.</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span + class="label">[B]</span></a> “You are right,” said Goethe; “there are great and + mysterious agencies included in the various forms of Poetry. If the substance of my + ‘Roman Elegies’ were to be expressed in the tone and measure of Byron’s ‘Don Juan,’ + it would really have an atrocious effect.”—<i>Eckermann</i>.</p> + <p>“The rhythm,” said Goethe, “is an unconscious result of the poetic mood. If one + should stop to consider it mechanically, when about to write a poem, one would + become bewildered and accomplish nothing of real poetical + value.”—<i>Ibid</i>.</p> + <p>“<i>All that is poetic in character should be rythmically treated</i>! Such is + my conviction; and if even a sort of poetic prose should be gradually introduced, + it would only show that the distinction between prose and poetry had been + completely lost sight of.”—<i>Goethe to Schiller</i>, 1797.</p> + <p>Tycho Mommsen, in his excellent essay, <i>Die Kunst des Deutschen Uebersetzers + aus neueren Sprachen</i>, goes so far as to say: “The metrical or rhymed modelling + of a poetical work is so essentially the germ of its being, that, rather than by + giving it up, we might hope to construct a similar work of art before the eyes of + our countrymen, by giving up or changing the substance. The immeasurable result + which has followed works wherein the form has been retained—such as the Homer + of Voss, and the Shakespeare of Tieck and Schlegel—is an incontrovertible + evidence of the vitality of the endeavor.”</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span + class="label">[C]</span></a> “Goethe’s poems exercise a great sway over me, not + only by their meaning, but also by their rhythm. It is a language which stimulates + me to composition.”—<i>Beethoven</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>The various theories of translation from the Greek and Latin poets have been + admirably stated by Dryden in his Preface to the “Translations from Ovid’s Epistles,” + and I do not wish to continue the endless discussion,—especially as our + literature needs examples, not opinions. A recent expression, however, carries with + it so much authority, that I feel bound to present some considerations which the + accomplished scholar seems to have overlooked. Mr. Lewes<a id="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a> justly says: + “The effect of poetry is a compound of music and suggestion; this music and this + suggestion are intermingled in words, which to alter is to alter the effect. For + words in poetry are not, as in prose, simple representatives of objects and ideas: + they are parts of an organic whole,—they are tones in the harmony.” He + thereupon illustrates the effect of translation by changing certain well-known + English stanzas into others, equivalent in meaning, but lacking their felicity of + words, their grace and melody. I cannot accept this illustration as valid, because + Mr. Lewes purposely omits the very quality which an honest translator should exhaust + his skill in endeavoring to reproduce. He turns away from the <i>one best</i> word or + phrase in the English lines he quotes, whereas the translator seeks precisely that + one best word or phrase (having <i>all</i> the resources of his language at command), + to represent what is said in <i>another</i> language. More than this, his task is not + simply mechanical: he must feel, and be guided by, a secondary inspiration. + Surrendering himself to the full possession of the spirit which shall speak through + him, he receives, also, a portion of the same creative power. Mr. Lewes reaches this + conclusion: “If, therefore, we reflect what a poem <i>Faust</i> is, and that it + contains almost every variety of style and metre, it will be tolerably evident that + no one unacquainted with the original can form an adequate idea of it from + translation,”<a id="FNanchor_E_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_5" + class="fnanchor">[E]</a> which is certainly correct of any translation wherein + something of the rhythmical variety and beauty of the original is not retained. That + very much of the rhythmical character may be retained in English, was long ago shown + by Mr. Carlyle,<a id="FNanchor_F_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_6" + class="fnanchor">[F]</a> in the passages which he translated, both literally and + rhythmically, from the <i>Helena</i> (Part Second). In fact, we have so many + instances of the possibility of reciprocally transferring the finest qualities of + English and German poetry, that there is no sufficient excuse for an unmetrical + translation of <i>Faust</i>. I refer especially to such subtile and melodious lyrics + as “The Castle by the Sea,” of Uhland, and the “Silent Land” of Salis, translated by + Mr. Longfellow; Goethe’s “Minstrel” and “Coptic Song,” by Dr. Hedge; Heine’s “Two + Grenadiers,” by Dr. Furness and many of Heine’s songs by Mr Leland; and also to the + German translations of English lyrics, by Freiligrath and Strodtmann.<a + id="FNanchor_G_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_7" + class="fnanchor">[G]</a></p> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4"><span + class="label">[D]</span></a> Life of Goethe (Book VI.).</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_E_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_5"><span + class="label">[E]</span></a> Mr. Lewes gives the following advice: “The English + reader would perhaps best succeed who should first read Dr. Anster’s brilliant + paraphrase, and then carefully go through Hayward’s prose translation.” This is + singularly at variance with the view he has just expressed. Dr. Anster’s version is + an almost incredible dilution of the original, written in <i>other</i> metres; + while Hayward’s entirely omits the element of poetry.</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_F_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_6"><span + class="label">[F]</span></a> Foreign Review, 1828.</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_G_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_7"><span + class="label">[G]</span></a> When Freiligrath can thus give us Walter + Scott:—</p> + <p><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">“Kommt, wie der Wind kommt,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Wenn Wälder erzittern</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Kommt, wie die Brandung</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Wenn Flotten zersplittern!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Schnell heran, schnell herab,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Schneller kommt Al’e!—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Häuptling und Bub’ und Knapp,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Herr und Vasalle!”</span><br> + </p> + <br> + <br> + + <p>or Strodtmann thus reproduce Tennyson:—</p> + <p><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">“Es fällt der Strahl auf Burg und + Thal,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Und schneeige Gipfel, reich an + Sagen;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Viel’ Lichter wehn auf blauen Seen,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Bergab die Wasserstürze jagen!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Blas, Hüfthorn, blas, in Wiederhall + erschallend:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Blas, Horn—antwortet, Echos, hallend, + hallend, hallend!”</span><br> + </p> + <br> + <br> + + <p>—it must be a dull ear which would be satisfied with the omission of + rhythm and rhyme.</p> + </div> + <p>I have a more serious objection, however, to urge against Mr. Hayward’s prose + translation. Where all the restraints of verse are flung aside, we should expect, at + least, as accurate a reproduction of the sense, spirit, and tone of the original, as + the genius of our language will permit. So far from having given us such a + reproduction, Mr. Hayward not only occasionally mistakes the exact meaning of the + German text,<a id="FNanchor_H_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_H_8" + class="fnanchor">[H]</a> but, wherever two phrases may be used to express the meaning + with equal fidelity, he very frequently selects that which has the less grace, + strength, or beauty.<a id="FNanchor_I_9"></a><a + href="#Footnote_I_9" class="fnanchor">[I]</a></p> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_H_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_H_8"><span + class="label">[H]</span></a> On his second page, the line <i>Mein Lied ertönt + der unbekannten Menge</i>, “My song sounds to the unknown multitude,” is + translated: “My <i>sorrow</i> voices itself to the strange throng.” Other English + translators, I notice, have followed Mr. Hayward in mistaking <i>Lied</i> for + <i>Leid</i>.</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_I_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_I_9"><span + class="label">[I]</span></a> I take but one out of numerous instances, for the sake + of illustration. The close of the Soldier’s Song (Part I. Scene II.) is:—</p> + <p><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">“Kühn is das Mühen,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Herrlich der Lohn!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Und die Soldaten</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ziehen davon.”</span><br> + </p> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Literally:</p> + <p><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Bold is the endeavor,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Splendid the pay!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And the soldiers</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">March away.</span><br> + </p> + <br> + <br> + + <p>This Mr. Hayward translates:—</p> + <p><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Bold the adventure,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Noble the reward—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And the soldiers</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Are off.</span><br> + </p> + </div> + <p>For there are few things which may not be said, in English, in a twofold + manner,—one poetic, and the other prosaic. In German, equally, a word which in + ordinary use has a bare prosaic character may receive a fairer and finer quality from + its place in verse. The prose translator should certainly be able to feel the + manifestation of this law in both languages, and should so choose his words as to + meet their reciprocal requirements. A man, however, who is not keenly sensible to the + power and beauty and value of rhythm, is likely to overlook these delicate yet most + necessary distinctions. The author’s thought is stripped of a last grace in passing + through his mind, and frequently presents very much the same resemblance to the + original as an unhewn shaft to the fluted column. Mr. Hayward unconsciously + illustrates his lack of a refined appreciation of verse, “in giving,” as he says, + “<i>a sort of rhythmical arrangement</i> to the lyrical parts,” his object being “to + convey some notion of the variety of versification which forms one great charm of the + poem.” A literal translation is always possible in the unrhymed passages; but even + here Mr. Hayward’s ear did not dictate to him the necessity of preserving the + original rhythm.</p> + <p>While, therefore, I heartily recognize his lofty appreciation of + <i>Faust</i>,—while I honor him for the patient and conscientious labor he has + bestowed upon his translation,—I cannot but feel that he has himself + illustrated the unsoundness of his argument. Nevertheless, the circumstance that his + prose translation of <i>Faust</i> has received so much acceptance proves those + qualities of the original work which cannot be destroyed by a test so violent. From + the cold bare outline thus produced, the reader unacquainted with the German language + would scarcely guess what glow of color, what richness of changeful life, what fluent + grace and energy of movement have been lost in the process. We must, of course, + gratefully receive such an outline, where a nearer approach to the form of the + original is impossible, but, until the latter has been demonstrated, we are wrong to + remain content with the cheaper substitute.</p> + <p>It seems to me that in all discussions upon this subject the capacities of the + English language have received but scanty justice. The intellectual tendencies of our + race have always been somewhat conservative, and its standards of literary taste or + belief, once set up, are not varied without a struggle. The English ear is suspicious + of new metres and unaccustomed forms of expression: there are critical detectives on + the track of every author, and a violation of the accepted canons is followed by a + summons to judgment. Thus the tendency is to contract rather than to expand the + acknowledged excellences of the language.<a id="FNanchor_J_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_J_10" class="fnanchor">[J]</a></p> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_J_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_J_10"><span + class="label">[J]</span></a> I cannot resist the temptation of quoting the + following passage from Jacob Grimm: “No one of all the modern languages has + acquired a greater force and strength than the English, through the derangement and + relinquishment of its ancient laws of sound. The unteachable (nevertheless + <i>learnable</i>) profusion of its middle-tones has conferred upon it an intrinsic + power of expression, such as no other human tongue ever possessed. Its entire, + thoroughly intellectual and wonderfully successful foundation and perfected + development issued from a marvelous union of the two noblest tongues of Europe, the + Germanic and the Romanic. Their mutual relation in the English language is well + known, since the former furnished chiefly the material basis, while the latter + added the intellectual conceptions. The English language, by and through which the + greatest and most eminent poet of modern times—as contrasted with ancient + classical poetry—(of course I can refer only to Shakespeare) was begotten and + nourished, has a just claim to be called a language of the world; and it appears to + be destined, like the English race, to a higher and broader sway in all quarters of + the earth. For in richness, in compact adjustment of parts, and in pure + intelligence, none of the living languages can be compared with it,—not even + our German, which is divided even as we are divided, and which must cast off many + imperfections before it can boldly enter on its career.”—<i>Ueber den + Ursprung der Sprache</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>The difficulties in the way of a nearly literal translation of <i>Faust</i> in the + original metres have been exaggerated, because certain affinities between the two + languages have not been properly considered. With all the splendor of versification + in the work, it contains but few metres of which the English tongue is not equally + capable. Hood has familiarized us with dactylic (triple) rhymes, and they are + remarkably abundant and skillful in Mr. Lowell’s “Fable for the Critics”: even the + unrhymed iambic hexameter of the <i>Helena</i> occurs now and then in Milton’s + <i>Samson Agonistes</i>. It is true that the metrical foot into which the German + language most naturally falls is the <i>trochaic</i>, while in English it is the + <i>iambic</i>: it is true that German is rich, involved, and tolerant of new + combinations, while English is simple, direct, and rather shy of compounds; but + precisely these differences are so modified in the German of <i>Faust</i> that there + is a mutual approach of the two languages. In <i>Faust</i>, the iambic measure + predominates; the style is compact; the many licenses which the author allows himself + are all directed towards a shorter mode of construction. On the other hand, English + metre compels the use of inversions, admits many verbal liberties prohibited to + prose, and so inclines towards various flexible features of its sister-tongue that + many lines of <i>Faust</i> may be repeated in English without the slightest change of + meaning, measure, or rhyme. There are words, it is true, with so delicate a bloom + upon them that it can in no wise be preserved; but even such words will always lose + less when they carry with them their rhythmical atmosphere. The flow of Goethe’s + verse is sometimes so similar to that of the corresponding English metre, that not + only its harmonies and caesural pauses, but even its punctuation, may be easily + retained.</p> + <p>I am satisfied that the difference between a translation of <i>Faust</i> in prose + or metre is chiefly one of labor,—and of that labor which is successful in + proportion as it is joyously performed. My own task has been cheered by the + discovery, that the more closely I reproduced the language of the original, the more + of its rhythmical character was transferred at the same time. If, now and then, there + was an inevitable alternative of meaning or music, I gave the preference to the + former. By the term “original metres” I do not mean a rigid, unyielding adherence to + every foot, line, and rhyme of the German original, although this has very nearly + been accomplished. Since the greater part of the work is written in an irregular + measure, the lines varying from three to six feet, and the rhymes arranged according + to the author’s will, I do not consider that an occasional change in the number of + feet, or order of rhyme, is any violation of the metrical plan. The single slight + liberty I have taken with the lyrical passages is in Margaret’s song,—“The King + of Thule,”—in which, by omitting the alternate feminine rhymes, yet retaining + the metre, I was enabled to make the translation strictly literal. If, in two or + three instances, I have left a line unrhymed, I have balanced the omission by giving + rhymes to other lines which stand unrhymed in the original text. For the same reason, + I make no apology for the imperfect rhymes, which are frequently a translation as + well as a necessity. With all its supreme qualities, <i>Faust</i> is far from being a + technically perfect work.<a id="FNanchor_K_11"></a><a + href="#Footnote_K_11" class="fnanchor">[K]</a></p> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a id="Footnote_K_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_K_11"><span + class="label">[K]</span></a> “At present, everything runs in technical grooves, and + the critical gentlemen begin to wrangle whether in a rhyme an <i>s</i> should + correspond with an <i>s</i> and not with <i>sz</i>. If I were young and reckless + enough, I would purposely offend all such technical caprices: I would use + alliteration, assonance, false rhyme, just according to my own will or + convenience—but, at the same time, I would attend to the main thing, and + endeavor to say so many good things that every one would be attracted to read and + remember them.”—<i>Goethe</i>, in 1831.</p> + </div> + <p>The feminine and dactylic rhymes, which have been for the most part omitted by all + metrical translators except Mr. Brooks, are indispensable. The characteristic tone of + many passages would be nearly lost, without them. They give spirit and grace to the + dialogue, point to the aphoristic portions (especially in the Second Part), and an + ever-changing music to the lyrical passages. The English language, though not so rich + as the German in such rhymes, is less deficient than is generally supposed. The + difficulty to be overcome is one of construction rather than of the vocabulary. The + present participle can only be used to a limited extent, on account of its weak + termination, and the want of an accusative form to the noun also restricts the + arrangement of words in English verse. I cannot hope to have been always successful; + but I have at least labored long and patiently, bearing constantly in mind not only + the meaning of the original and the mechanical structure of the lines, but also that + subtile and haunting music which seems to govern rhythm instead of being governed by + it.</p> + <p>B.T.</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-022.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="AN_GOETHE"></a>AN GOETHE</h2></div> + <p><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I</span><br> + <br> + <i>Erhabener Geist, im Geisterreich verloren!</i><br> + Wo immer Deine lichte Wohnung sey,<br> + Zum höh’ren Schaffen bist Du neugeboren,<br> + Und singest dort die voll’re Litanei.<br> + Von jenem Streben das Du auserkoren,<br> + Vom reinsten Aether, drin Du athmest frei,<br> + O neige Dich zu gnädigem Erwiedern<br> + Des letzten Wiederhalls von Deinen Liedern!<br> + <br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 8em;">II</span><br> + <br> + <i>Den alten Musen die bestäubten Kronen<br> + Nahmst Du, zu neuem Glanz, mit kühner Hand:<br> + Du löst die Räthsel ältester Aeonen<br> + Durch jüngeren Glauben, helleren Verstand,<br> + Und machst, wo rege Menschengeister wohnen,<br> + Die ganze Erde Dir zum Vaterland;<br> + Und Deine Jünger sehn in Dir, verwundert,<br> + Verkörpert schon das werdende Jahrhundert</i>.<br> + <br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 8em;">III</span><br> + <br> + <i>Was Du gesungen, Aller Lust und Klagen,<br> + Des Lebens Wiedersprüche, neu vermählt,—<br> + Die Harfe tausendstimmig frisch geschlagen,<br> + Die Shakspeare einst, die einst Homer gewählt,—<br> + Darf ich in fremde Klänge übertragen<br> + Das Alles, wo so Mancher schon gefehlt?<br> + Lass Deinen Geist in meiner Stimme klingen,<br> + Und was Du sangst, lass mich es Dir nachsingen!</i><br> + </p> + <p>B.T.</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-024.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-025.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="DEDICATION"></a>DEDICATION</h2></div> + <p>Again ye come, ye hovering Forms! I find ye,<br> + As early to my clouded sight ye shone!<br> + Shall I attempt, this once, to seize and bind ye?<br> + Still o’er my heart is that illusion thrown?<br> + Ye crowd more near! Then, be the reign assigned ye,<br> + And sway me from your misty, shadowy zone!<br> + My bosom thrills, with youthful passion shaken,<br> + From magic airs that round your march awaken.<br> + <br> + Of joyous days ye bring the blissful vision;<br> + The dear, familiar phantoms rise again,<br> + And, like an old and half-extinct tradition,<br> + First Love returns, with Friendship in his train.<br> + Renewed is Pain: with mournful repetition<br> + Life tracks his devious, labyrinthine chain,<br> + And names the Good, whose cheating fortune tore them<br> + From happy hours, and left me to deplore them.<br> + <br> + They hear no longer these succeeding measures,<br> + The souls, to whom my earliest songs I sang:<br> + <br> + Dispersed the friendly troop, with all its pleasures,<br> + And still, alas! the echoes first that rang!<br> + I bring the unknown multitude my treasures;<br> + Their very plaudits give my heart a pang,<br> + And those beside, whose joy my Song so flattered,<br> + If still they live, wide through the world are scattered.<br> + <br> + And grasps me now a long-unwonted yearning<br> + For that serene and solemn Spirit-Land:<br> + My song, to faint Aeolian murmurs turning,<br> + Sways like a harp-string by the breezes fanned.<br> + I thrill and tremble; tear on tear is burning,<br> + And the stern heart is tenderly unmanned.<br> + What I possess, I see far distant lying,<br> + And what I lost, grows real and undying.<br> + </p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-026.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-027.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="PRELUDE_AT_THE_THEATRE"></a>PRELUDE AT THE + THEATRE</h2></div> + + <p>MANAGER ==== DRAMATIC POET ==== MERRY-ANDREW<br> + <br> + <br> + MANAGER<br> + <br> + You two, who oft a helping hand<br> + Have lent, in need and tribulation.<br> + Come, let me know your expectation<br> + Of this, our enterprise, in German land!<br> + I wish the crowd to feel itself well treated,<br> + Especially since it lives and lets me live;<br> + The posts are set, the booth of boards completed.<br> + And each awaits the banquet I shall give.<br> + Already there, with curious eyebrows raised,<br> + They sit sedate, and hope to be amazed.<br> + I know how one the People’s taste may flatter,<br> + Yet here a huge embarrassment I feel:<br> + What they’re accustomed to, is no great matter,<br> + But then, alas! they’ve read an awful deal.<br> + How shall we plan, that all be fresh and new,—<br> + Important matter, yet attractive too?<br> + For ’tis my pleasure-to behold them surging,<br> + When to our booth the current sets apace,<br> + And with tremendous, oft-repeated urging,<br> + Squeeze onward through the narrow gate of grace:<br> + By daylight even, they push and cram in<br> + To reach the seller’s box, a fighting host,<br> + And as for bread, around a baker’s door, in famine,<br> + To get a ticket break their necks almost.<br> + This miracle alone can work the Poet<br> + On men so various: now, my friend, pray show it.<br> + <br> + <br> + POET<br> + <br> + <br> + Speak not to me of yonder motley masses,<br> + Whom but to see, puts out the fire of Song!<br> + Hide from my view the surging crowd that passes,<br> + And in its whirlpool forces us along!<br> + No, lead me where some heavenly silence glasses<br> + The purer joys that round the Poet throng,—<br> + Where Love and Friendship still divinely fashion<br> + The bonds that bless, the wreaths that crown his passion!<br> + Ah, every utterance from the depths of feeling<br> + The timid lips have stammeringly expressed,—<br> + Now failing, now, perchance, success revealing,—<br> + Gulps the wild Moment in its greedy breast;<br> + Or oft, reluctant years its warrant sealing,<br> + Its perfect stature stands at last confessed!<br> + What dazzles, for the Moment spends its spirit:<br> + What’s genuine, shall Posterity inherit.<br> + <br> + <br> + MERRY-ANDREW<br> + <br> + <br> + Posterity! Don’t name the word to me!<br> + If <i>I</i> should choose to preach Posterity,<br> + Where would you get contemporary fun?<br> + That men <i>will</i> have it, there’s no blinking:<br> + A fine young fellow’s presence, to my thinking,<br> + Is something worth, to every one.<br> + Who genially his nature can outpour,<br> + Takes from the People’s moods no irritation;<br> + The wider circle he acquires, the more<br> + Securely works his inspiration.<br> + Then pluck up heart, and give us sterling coin!<br> + Let Fancy be with her attendants fitted,—<br> + Sense, Reason, Sentiment, and Passion join,—<br> + But have a care, lest Folly be omitted!<br> + <br> + MANAGER<br> + <br> + Chiefly, enough of incident prepare!<br> + They come to look, and they prefer to stare.<br> + Reel off a host of threads before their faces,<br> + So that they gape in stupid wonder: then<br> + By sheer diffuseness you have won their graces,<br> + And are, at once, most popular of men.<br> + Only by mass you touch the mass; for any<br> + Will finally, himself, his bit select:<br> + Who offers much, brings something unto many,<br> + And each goes home content with the effect,<br> + If you’ve a piece, why, just in pieces give it:<br> + A hash, a stew, will bring success, believe it!<br> + ’Tis easily displayed, and easy to invent.<br> + What use, a Whole compactly to present?<br> + Your hearers pick and pluck, as soon as they receive it!<br> + <br> + POET<br> + <br> + You do not feel, how such a trade debases;<br> + How ill it suits the Artist, proud and true!<br> + The botching work each fine pretender traces<br> + Is, I perceive, a principle with you.<br> + <br> + MANAGER<br> + <br> + Such a reproach not in the least offends;<br> + A man who some result intends<br> + Must use the tools that best are fitting.<br> + Reflect, soft wood is given to you for splitting,<br> + And then, observe for whom you write!<br> + If one comes bored, exhausted quite,<br> + Another, satiate, leaves the banquet’s tapers,<br> + And, worst of all, full many a wight<br> + Is fresh from reading of the daily papers.<br> + Idly to us they come, as to a masquerade,<br> + Mere curiosity their spirits warming:<br> + The ladies with themselves, and with their finery, aid,<br> + Without a salary their parts performing.<br> + What dreams are yours in high poetic places?<br> + You’re pleased, forsooth, full houses to behold?<br> + Draw near, and view your patrons’ faces!<br> + The half are coarse, the half are cold.<br> + One, when the play is out, goes home to cards;<br> + A wild night on a wench’s breast another chooses:<br> + Why should you rack, poor, foolish bards,<br> + For ends like these, the gracious Muses?<br> + I tell you, give but more—more, ever more, they ask:<br> + Thus shall you hit the mark of gain and glory.<br> + Seek to confound your auditory!<br> + To satisfy them is a task.—<br> + What ails you now? Is’t suffering, or pleasure?<br> + <br> + POET<br> + <br> + Go, find yourself a more obedient slave!<br> + What! shall the Poet that which Nature gave,<br> + The highest right, supreme Humanity,<br> + Forfeit so wantonly, to swell your treasure?<br> + Whence o’er the heart his empire free?<br> + The elements of Life how conquers he?<br> + Is’t not his heart’s accord, urged outward far and dim,<br> + To wind the world in unison with him?<br> + When on the spindle, spun to endless distance,<br> + By Nature’s listless hand the thread is twirled,<br> + And the discordant tones of all existence<br> + In sullen jangle are together hurled,<br> + Who, then, the changeless orders of creation<br> + Divides, and kindles into rhythmic dance?<br> + Who brings the One to join the general ordination,<br> + Where it may throb in grandest consonance?<br> + Who bids the storm to passion stir the bosom?<br> + In brooding souls the sunset burn above?<br> + Who scatters every fairest April blossom<br> + Along the shining path of Love?<br> + Who braids the noteless leaves to crowns, requiting<br> + Desert with fame, in Action’s every field?<br> + Who makes Olympus sure, the Gods uniting?<br> + The might of Man, as in the Bard revealed.<br> + <br> + MERRY-ANDREW<br> + <br> + So, these fine forces, in conjunction,<br> + Propel the high poetic function,<br> + As in a love-adventure they might play!<br> + You meet by accident; you feel, you stay,<br> + And by degrees your heart is tangled;<br> + Bliss grows apace, and then its course is jangled;<br> + You’re ravished quite, then comes a touch of woe,<br> + And there’s a neat romance, completed ere you know!<br> + Let us, then, such a drama give!<br> + Grasp the exhaustless life that all men live!<br> + Each shares therein, though few may comprehend:<br> + Where’er you touch, there’s interest without end.<br> + In motley pictures little light,<br> + Much error, and of truth a glimmering mite,<br> + Thus the best beverage is supplied,<br> + Whence all the world is cheered and edified.<br> + Then, at your play, behold the fairest flower<br> + Of youth collect, to hear the revelation!<br> + Each tender soul, with sentimental power,<br> + Sucks melancholy food from your creation;<br> + And now in this, now that, the leaven works.<br> + For each beholds what in his bosom lurks.<br> + They still are moved at once to weeping or to laughter,<br> + Still wonder at your flights, enjoy the show they see:<br> + A mind, once formed, is never suited after;<br> + One yet in growth will ever grateful be.<br> + <br> + POET<br> + <br> + Then give me back that time of pleasures,<br> + While yet in joyous growth I sang,—<br> + When, like a fount, the crowding measures<br> + Uninterrupted gushed and sprang!<br> + Then bright mist veiled the world before me,<br> + In opening buds a marvel woke,<br> + As I the thousand blossoms broke,<br> + Which every valley richly bore me!<br> + I nothing had, and yet enough for youth—<br> + Joy in Illusion, ardent thirst for Truth.<br> + Give, unrestrained, the old emotion,<br> + The bliss that touched the verge of pain,<br> + The strength of Hate, Love’s deep devotion,—<br> + O, give me back my youth again!<br> + <br> + MERRY ANDREW<br> + <br> + Youth, good my friend, you certainly require<br> + When foes in combat sorely press you;<br> + When lovely maids, in fond desire,<br> + Hang on your bosom and caress you;<br> + When from the hard-won goal the wreath<br> + Beckons afar, the race awaiting;<br> + When, after dancing out your breath,<br> + You pass the night in dissipating:—<br> + But that familiar harp with soul<br> + To play,—with grace and bold expression,<br> + And towards a self-erected goal<br> + To walk with many a sweet digression,—<br> + This, aged Sirs, belongs to you,<br> + And we no less revere you for that reason:<br> + Age childish makes, they say, but ’tis not true;<br> + We’re only genuine children still, in Age’s season!<br> + <br> + <br> + MANAGER<br> + <br> + The words you’ve bandied are sufficient;<br> + ’Tis deeds that I prefer to see:<br> + In compliments you’re both proficient,<br> + But might, the while, more useful be.<br> + What need to talk of Inspiration?<br> + ’Tis no companion of Delay.<br> + If Poetry be your vocation,<br> + Let Poetry your will obey!<br> + Full well you know what here is wanting;<br> + The crowd for strongest drink is panting,<br> + And such, forthwith, I’d have you brew.<br> + What’s left undone to-day, To-morrow will not do.<br> + Waste not a day in vain digression:<br> + With resolute, courageous trust<br> + Seize every possible impression,<br> + And make it firmly your possession;<br> + You’ll then work on, because you must.<br> + Upon our German stage, you know it,<br> + Each tries his hand at what he will;<br> + So, take of traps and scenes your fill,<br> + And all you find, be sure to show it!<br> + Use both the great and lesser heavenly light,—<br> + Squander the stars in any number,<br> + Beasts, birds, trees, rocks, and all such lumber,<br> + Fire, water, darkness, Day and Night!<br> + Thus, in our booth’s contracted sphere,<br> + The circle of Creation will appear,<br> + And move, as we deliberately impel,<br> + From Heaven, across the World, to Hell!<br> + </p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-034.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-035.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="PROLOGUE_IN_HEAVEN"></a>PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN</h2></div> + +<p> + THE LORD === THE HEAVENLY HOST <br> + <i>Afterwards</i><br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + (<i>The</i> THREE ARCHANGELS <i>come forward</i>.)<br> + <br> + <br> + RAPHAEL<br> + <br> + The sun-orb sings, in emulation,<br> + ’Mid brother-spheres, his ancient round:<br> + His path predestined through Creation<br> + He ends with step of thunder-sound.<br> + The angels from his visage splendid<br> + Draw power, whose measure none can say;<br> + The lofty works, uncomprehended,<br> + Are bright as on the earliest day.<br> + <br> + <br> + GABRIEL<br> + <br> + And swift, and swift beyond conceiving,<br> + The splendor of the world goes round,<br> + Day’s Eden-brightness still relieving<br> + The awful Night’s intense profound:<br> + The ocean-tides in foam are breaking,<br> + Against the rocks’ deep bases hurled,<br> + And both, the spheric race partaking,<br> + Eternal, swift, are onward whirled!<br> + <br> + <br> + MICHAEL<br> + <br> + And rival storms abroad are surging<br> + From sea to land, from land to sea.<br> + A chain of deepest action forging<br> + Round all, in wrathful energy.<br> + There flames a desolation, blazing<br> + Before the Thunder’s crashing way:<br> + Yet, Lord, Thy messengers are praising<br> + The gentle movement of Thy Day.<br> + <br> + <br> + THE THREE<br> + <br> + Though still by them uncomprehended,<br> + From these the angels draw their power,<br> + And all Thy works, sublime and splendid,<br> + Are bright as in Creation’s hour.<br> + <br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Since Thou, O Lord, deign’st to approach again<br> + And ask us how we do, in manner kindest,<br> + And heretofore to meet myself wert fain,<br> + Among Thy menials, now, my face Thou findest.<br> + Pardon, this troop I cannot follow after<br> + With lofty speech, though by them scorned and spurned:<br> + My pathos certainly would move Thy laughter,<br> + If Thou hadst not all merriment unlearned.<br> + Of suns and worlds I’ve nothing to be quoted;<br> + How men torment themselves, is all I’ve noted.<br> + The little god o’ the world sticks to the same old way,<br> + And is as whimsical as on Creation’s day.<br> + Life somewhat better might content him,<br> + But for the gleam of heavenly light which Thou hast lent him:<br> + He calls it Reason—thence his power’s increased,<br> + To be far beastlier than any beast.<br> + Saving Thy Gracious Presence, he to me<br> + A long-legged grasshopper appears to be,<br> + That springing flies, and flying springs,<br> + And in the grass the same old ditty sings.<br> + Would he still lay among the grass he grows in!<br> + Each bit of dung he seeks, to stick his nose in.<br> + <br> + <br> + THE LORD<br> + <br> + Hast thou, then, nothing more to mention?<br> + Com’st ever, thus, with ill intention?<br> + Find’st nothing right on earth, eternally?<br> + <br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + No, Lord! I find things, there, still bad as they can be.<br> + Man’s misery even to pity moves my nature;<br> + I’ve scarce the heart to plague the wretched creature.<br> + <br> + <br> + THE LORD<br> + <br> + Know’st Faust?<br> + <br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + The Doctor Faust?<br> + <br> + <br> + THE LORD<br> + <br> + My servant, he!<br> + <br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Forsooth! He serves you after strange devices:<br> + No earthly meat or drink the fool suffices:<br> + His spirit’s ferment far aspireth;<br> + Half conscious of his frenzied, crazed unrest,<br> + The fairest stars from Heaven he requireth,<br> + From Earth the highest raptures and the best,<br> + And all the Near and Far that he desireth<br> + Fails to subdue the tumult of his breast.<br> + <br> + <br> + THE LORD<br> + <br> + Though still confused his service unto Me,<br> + I soon shall lead him to a clearer morning.<br> + Sees not the gardener, even while buds his tree,<br> + Both flower and fruit the future years adorning?<br> + <br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + What will you bet? There’s still a chance to gain him,<br> + If unto me full leave you give,<br> + Gently upon <i>my</i> road to train him!<br> + <br> + <br> + THE LORD<br> + <br> + As long as he on earth shall live,<br> + So long I make no prohibition.<br> + While Man’s desires and aspirations stir,<br> + He cannot choose but err.<br> + <br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + My thanks! I find the dead no acquisition,<br> + And never cared to have them in my keeping.<br> + I much prefer the cheeks where ruddy blood is leaping,<br> + And when a corpse approaches, close my house:<br> + It goes with me, as with the cat the mouse.<br> + <br> + <br> + THE LORD<br> + <br> + Enough! What thou hast asked is granted.<br> + Turn off this spirit from his fountain-head;<br> + To trap him, let thy snares be planted,<br> + And him, with thee, be downward led;<br> + Then stand abashed, when thou art forced to say:<br> + A good man, through obscurest aspiration,<br> + Has still an instinct of the one true way.<br> + <br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Agreed! But ’tis a short probation.<br> + About my bet I feel no trepidation.<br> + If I fulfill my expectation,<br> + You’ll let me triumph with a swelling breast:<br> + Dust shall he eat, and with a zest,<br> + As did a certain snake, my near relation.<br> + <br> + <br> + THE LORD<br> + <br> + Therein thou’rt free, according to thy merits;<br> + The like of thee have never moved My hate.<br> + Of all the bold, denying Spirits,<br> + The waggish knave least trouble doth create.<br> + Man’s active nature, flagging, seeks too soon the level;<br> + Unqualified repose he learns to crave;<br> + Whence, willingly, the comrade him I gave,<br> + Who works, excites, and must create, as Devil.<br> + But ye, God’s sons in love and duty,<br> + Enjoy the rich, the ever-living Beauty!<br> + Creative Power, that works eternal schemes,<br> + Clasp you in bonds of love, relaxing never,<br> + And what in wavering apparition gleams<br> + Fix in its place with thoughts that stand forever!<br> + <br> + <br> + (<i>Heaven closes: the</i> ARCHANGELS <i>separate</i>.)<br> + <br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>solus</i>)<br> + <br> + I like, at times, to hear The Ancient’s word,<br> + And have a care to be most civil:<br> + It’s really kind of such a noble Lord<br> + So humanly to gossip with the Devil!<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-040.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-041.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'><h2>FIRST PART OF THE TRAGEDY</h2></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class='chapter'><h2><a id="I"></a>I</h2></div> + +<p> + NIGHT<br> + <br> + (<i>A lofty-arched, narrow, Gothic chamber</i>. FAUST, <i>in a chair at his<br> + desk, restless</i>.)<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + I’ve studied now Philosophy<br> + And Jurisprudence, Medicine,—<br> + And even, alas! Theology,—<br> + From end to end, with labor keen;<br> + And here, poor fool! with all my lore<br> + I stand, no wiser than before:<br> + I’m Magister—yea, Doctor—hight,<br> + And straight or cross-wise, wrong or right,<br> + These ten years long, with many woes,<br> + I’ve led my scholars by the nose,—<br> + And see, that nothing can be known!<br> + <i>That</i> knowledge cuts me to the bone.<br> + I’m cleverer, true, than those fops of teachers,<br> + Doctors and Magisters, Scribes and Preachers;<br> + Neither scruples nor doubts come now to smite me,<br> + Nor Hell nor Devil can longer affright me.<br> + <br> + For this, all pleasure am I foregoing;<br> + I do not pretend to aught worth knowing,<br> + I do not pretend I could be a teacher<br> + To help or convert a fellow-creature.<br> + Then, too, I’ve neither lands nor gold,<br> + Nor the world’s least pomp or honor hold—<br> + No dog would endure such a curst existence!<br> + Wherefore, from Magic I seek assistance,<br> + That many a secret perchance I reach<br> + Through spirit-power and spirit-speech,<br> + And thus the bitter task forego<br> + Of saying the things I do not know,—<br> + That I may detect the inmost force<br> + Which binds the world, and guides its course;<br> + Its germs, productive powers explore,<br> + And rummage in empty words no more!<br> + <br> + O full and splendid Moon, whom I<br> + Have, from this desk, seen climb the sky<br> + So many a midnight,—would thy glow<br> + For the last time beheld my woe!<br> + Ever thine eye, most mournful friend,<br> + O’er books and papers saw me bend;<br> + But would that I, on mountains grand,<br> + Amid thy blessed light could stand,<br> + With spirits through mountain-caverns hover,<br> + Float in thy twilight the meadows over,<br> + And, freed from the fumes of lore that swathe me,<br> + To health in thy dewy fountains bathe me!<br> + <br> + Ah, me! this dungeon still I see.<br> + This drear, accursed masonry,<br> + Where even the welcome daylight strains<br> + But duskly through the painted panes.<br> + Hemmed in by many a toppling heap<br> + Of books worm-eaten, gray with dust,<br> + Which to the vaulted ceiling creep,<br> + Against the smoky paper thrust,—<br> + With glasses, boxes, round me stacked,<br> + And instruments together hurled,<br> + Ancestral lumber, stuffed and packed—<br> + Such is my world: and what a world!<br> + <br> + And do I ask, wherefore my heart<br> + Falters, oppressed with unknown needs?<br> + Why some inexplicable smart<br> + All movement of my life impedes?<br> + Alas! in living Nature’s stead,<br> + Where God His human creature set,<br> + In smoke and mould the fleshless dead<br> + And bones of beasts surround me yet!<br> + <br> + Fly! Up, and seek the broad, free land!<br> + And this one Book of Mystery<br> + From Nostradamus’ very hand,<br> + Is’t not sufficient company?<br> + When I the starry courses know,<br> + And Nature’s wise instruction seek,<br> + With light of power my soul shall glow,<br> + As when to spirits spirits speak.<br> + Tis vain, this empty brooding here,<br> + Though guessed the holy symbols be:<br> + Ye, Spirits, come—ye hover near—<br> + Oh, if you hear me, answer me!<br> + <br> + (<i>He opens the Book, and perceives the sign of the Macrocosm</i>.)<br> + <br> + Ha! what a sudden rapture leaps from this<br> + I view, through all my senses swiftly flowing!<br> + I feel a youthful, holy, vital bliss<br> + In every vein and fibre newly glowing.<br> + Was it a God, who traced this sign,<br> + With calm across my tumult stealing,<br> + My troubled heart to joy unsealing,<br> + With impulse, mystic and divine,<br> + The powers of Nature here, around my path, revealing?<br> + Am I a God?—so clear mine eyes!<br> + In these pure features I behold<br> + Creative Nature to my soul unfold.<br> + What says the sage, now first I recognize:<br> + “The spirit-world no closures fasten;<br> + Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead:<br> + Disciple, up! untiring, hasten<br> + To bathe thy breast in morning-red!”<br> + <br> + (<i>He contemplates the sign</i>.)<br> + <br> + How each the Whole its substance gives,<br> + Each in the other works and lives!<br> + Like heavenly forces rising and descending,<br> + Their golden urns reciprocally lending,<br> + With wings that winnow blessing<br> + From Heaven through Earth I see them pressing,<br> + Filling the All with harmony unceasing!<br> + How grand a show! but, ah! a show alone.<br> + Thee, boundless Nature, how make thee my own?<br> + Where you, ye beasts? Founts of all Being, shining,<br> + Whereon hang Heaven’s and Earth’s desire,<br> + Whereto our withered hearts aspire,—<br> + Ye flow, ye feed: and am I vainly pining?<br> + <br> + (<i>He turns the leaves impatiently, and perceives the sign of the<br> + Earth-Spirit</i>.)<br> + <br> + How otherwise upon me works this sign!<br> + Thou, Spirit of the Earth, art nearer:<br> + Even now my powers are loftier, clearer;<br> + I glow, as drunk with new-made wine:<br> + New strength and heart to meet the world incite me,<br> + The woe of earth, the bliss of earth, invite me,<br> + And though the shock of storms may smite me,<br> + No crash of shipwreck shall have power to fright me!<br> + Clouds gather over me—<br> + The moon conceals her light—<br> + The lamp’s extinguished!—<br> + Mists rise,—red, angry rays are darting<br> + Around my head!—There falls<br> + A horror from the vaulted roof,<br> + And seizes me!<br> + I feel thy presence, Spirit I invoke!<br> + Reveal thyself!<br> + Ha! in my heart what rending stroke!<br> + With new impulsion<br> + My senses heave in this convulsion!<br> + I feel thee draw my heart, absorb, exhaust me:<br> + Thou must! thou must! and though my life it cost me!<br> + <br> + (<i>He seizes the book, and mysteriously pronounces the sign of<br> + the Spirit. A ruddy flame flashes: the Spirit appears in<br> + the flame</i>.)<br> + <br> + <br> + SPIRIT<br> + <br> + Who calls me?<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST (<i>with averted head</i>)<br> + <br> + </p> + <div class="indented"> + Terrible to see!<br> + <br> + </div> + <p> + SPIRIT<br> + <br> + Me hast thou long with might attracted,<br> + Long from my sphere thy food exacted,<br> + And now—<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Woe! I endure not thee!</span><br> + <br> + <br> + SPIRIT<br> + <br> + To view me is thine aspiration,<br> + My voice to hear, my countenance to see;<br> + Thy powerful yearning moveth me,<br> + Here am I!—what mean perturbation<br> + Thee, superhuman, shakes? Thy soul’s high calling, where?<br> + Where is the breast, which from itself a world did bear,<br> + And shaped and cherished—which with joy expanded,<br> + To be our peer, with us, the Spirits, banded?<br> + Where art thou, Faust, whose voice has pierced to me,<br> + Who towards me pressed with all thine energy?<br> + <i>He</i> art thou, who, my presence breathing, seeing,<br> + Trembles through all the depths of being,<br> + A writhing worm, a terror-stricken form?<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Thee, form of flame, shall I then fear?<br> + Yes, I am Faust: I am thy peer!<br> + <br> + <br> + SPIRIT<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">In the tides of Life, in Action’s + storm,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">A fluctuant wave,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">A shuttle free,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Birth and the Grave,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">An eternal sea,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">A weaving, flowing</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Life, all-glowing,</span><br> + Thus at Time’s humming loom ’tis my hand prepares<br> + The garment of Life which the Deity wears!<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Thou, who around the wide world wendest,<br> + Thou busy Spirit, how near I feel to thee!<br> + <br> + <br> + SPIRIT<br> + <br> + Thou’rt like the Spirit which thou comprehendest,<br> + Not me!<br> + <br> + (<i>Disappears</i>.)<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST (<i>overwhelmed</i>)<br> + <br> + Not thee!<br> + Whom then?<br> + I, image of the Godhead!<br> + Not even like thee!<br> + <br> + (<i>A knock</i>).<br> + <br> + O Death!—I know it—’tis my Famulus!<br> + My fairest luck finds no fruition:<br> + In all the fullness of my vision<br> + The soulless sneak disturbs me thus!<br> + <br> + (<i>Enter</i> WAGNER<i>, in dressing-gown and night-cap, a lamp in<br> + his hand.</i> FAUST <i>turns impatiently</i>.)<br> + <br> + <br> + WAGNER<br> + <br> + Pardon, I heard your declamation;<br> + ’Twas sure an old Greek tragedy you read?<br> + In such an art I crave some preparation,<br> + Since now it stands one in good stead.<br> + I’ve often heard it said, a preacher<br> + Might learn, with a comedian for a teacher.<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Yes, when the priest comedian is by nature,<br> + As haply now and then the case may be.<br> + <br> + <br> + WAGNER<br> + <br> + Ah, when one studies thus, a prisoned creature,<br> + That scarce the world on holidays can see,—<br> + Scarce through a glass, by rare occasion,<br> + How shall one lead it by persuasion?<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + You’ll ne’er attain it, save you know the feeling,<br> + Save from the soul it rises clear,<br> + Serene in primal strength, compelling<br> + The hearts and minds of all who hear.<br> + You sit forever gluing, patching;<br> + You cook the scraps from others’ fare;<br> + And from your heap of ashes hatching<br> + A starveling flame, ye blow it bare!<br> + Take children’s, monkeys’ gaze admiring,<br> + If such your taste, and be content;<br> + But ne’er from heart to heart you’ll speak inspiring,<br> + Save your own heart is eloquent!<br> + <br> + <br> + WAGNER<br> + <br> + Yet through delivery orators succeed;<br> + I feel that I am far behind, indeed.<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Seek thou the honest recompense!<br> + Beware, a tinkling fool to be!<br> + With little art, clear wit and sense<br> + Suggest their own delivery;<br> + And if thou’rt moved to speak in earnest,<br> + What need, that after words thou yearnest?<br> + Yes, your discourses, with their glittering show,<br> + Where ye for men twist shredded thought like paper,<br> + Are unrefreshing as the winds that blow<br> + The rustling leaves through chill autumnal vapor!<br> + <br> + <br> + WAGNER<br> + <br> + Ah, God! but Art is long,<br> + And Life, alas! is fleeting.<br> + And oft, with zeal my critic-duties meeting,<br> + In head and breast there’s something wrong.<br> + <br> + How hard it is to compass the assistance<br> + Whereby one rises to the source!<br> + And, haply, ere one travels half the course<br> + Must the poor devil quit existence.<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Is parchment, then, the holy fount before thee,<br> + A draught wherefrom thy thirst forever slakes?<br> + No true refreshment can restore thee,<br> + Save what from thine own soul spontaneous breaks.<br> + <br> + <br> + WAGNER<br> + <br> + Pardon! a great delight is granted<br> + When, in the spirit of the ages planted,<br> + We mark how, ere our times, a sage has thought,<br> + And then, how far his work, and grandly, we have brought.<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + O yes, up to the stars at last!<br> + Listen, my friend: the ages that are past<br> + Are now a book with seven seals protected:<br> + What you the Spirit of the Ages call<br> + Is nothing but the spirit of you all,<br> + Wherein the Ages are reflected.<br> + So, oftentimes, you miserably mar it!<br> + At the first glance who sees it runs away.<br> + An offal-barrel and a lumber-garret,<br> + Or, at the best, a Punch-and-Judy play,<br> + With maxims most pragmatical and hitting,<br> + As in the mouths of puppets are befitting!<br> + <br> + <br> + WAGNER<br> + <br> + But then, the world—the human heart and brain!<br> + Of these one covets some slight apprehension.<br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Yes, of the kind which men attain!<br> + Who dares the child’s true name in public mention?<br> + The few, who thereof something really learned,<br> + Unwisely frank, with hearts that spurned concealing,<br> + And to the mob laid bare each thought and feeling,<br> + Have evermore been crucified and burned.<br> + I pray you, Friend, ’tis now the dead of night;<br> + Our converse here must be suspended.<br> + <br> + <br> + WAGNER<br> + <br> + I would have shared your watches with delight,<br> + That so our learned talk might be extended.<br> + To-morrow, though, I’ll ask, in Easter leisure,<br> + This and the other question, at your pleasure.<br> + Most zealously I seek for erudition:<br> + Much do I know—but to know all is my ambition.<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 22em;">[<i>Exit</i>.</span><br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST (<i>solus</i>)<br> + <br> + That brain, alone, not loses hope, whose choice is<br> + To stick in shallow trash forevermore,—<br> + Which digs with eager hand for buried ore,<br> + And, when it finds an angle-worm, rejoices!<br> + <br> + Dare such a human voice disturb the flow,<br> + Around me here, of spirit-presence fullest?<br> + And yet, this once my thanks I owe<br> + To thee, of all earth’s sons the poorest, dullest!<br> + For thou hast torn me from that desperate state<br> + Which threatened soon to overwhelm my senses:<br> + The apparition was so giant-great,<br> + It dwarfed and withered all my soul’s pretences!<br> + <br> + I, image of the Godhead, who began—<br> + Deeming Eternal Truth secure in nearness—<br> +To sun myself in heavenly light and clearness,<br> +And laid aside the earthly man;—<br> +I, more than Cherub, whose free force had planned<br> +To flow through Nature’s veins in glad pulsation,<br> +To reach beyond, enjoying in creation<br> +The life of Gods, behold my expiation!<br> +A thunder-word hath swept me from my stand.<sup>27</sup><br> +<br> +With thee I dare not venture to compare me.<br> +Though I possessed the power to draw thee near me,<br> +The power to keep thee was denied my hand.<br> +When that ecstatic moment held me,<br> +I felt myself so small, so great;<br> +But thou hast ruthlessly repelled me<br> +Back upon Man’s uncertain fate.<br> +What shall I shun? Whose guidance borrow?<br> +Shall I accept that stress and strife?<br> +Ah! every deed of ours, no less than every sorrow,<br> +Impedes the onward march of life.<br> +<br> +Some alien substance more and more is cleaving<br> +To all the mind conceives of grand and fair;<br> +When this world’s Good is won by our achieving,<br> +The Better, then, is named a cheat and snare.<br> +The fine emotions, whence our lives we mould,<br> +Lie in the earthly tumult dumb and cold.<br> +If hopeful Fancy once, in daring flight,<br> +Her longings to the Infinite expanded,<br> +Yet now a narrow space contents her quite,<br> +Since Time’s wild wave so many a fortune stranded.<br> +Care at the bottom of the heart is lurking:<br> +Her secret pangs in silence working,<br> +She, restless, rocks herself, disturbing joy and rest:<br> +In newer masks her face is ever drest,<br> +By turns as house and land, as wife and child, presented,—<br> +As water, fire, as poison, steel:<br> +We dread the blows we never feel,<br> +And what we never lose is yet by us lamented!<br> +<br> +I am not like the Gods! That truth is felt too deep:<br> +The worm am I, that in the dust doth creep,—<br> +That, while in dust it lives and seeks its bread,<br> +Is crushed and buried by the wanderer’s tread.<br> +<br> +Is not this dust, these walls within them hold,<br> +The hundred shelves, which cramp and chain me,<br> +The frippery, the trinkets thousandfold,<br> +That in this mothy den restrain me?<br> +Here shall I find the help I need?<br> +Shall here a thousand volumes teach me only<br> +That men, self-tortured, everywhere must bleed,—<br> +And here and there one happy man sits lonely?<sup>28</sup><br> +What mean’st thou by that grin, thou hollow skull,<br> +Save that thy brain, like mine, a cloudy mirror,<br> +Sought once the shining day, and then, in twilight dull,<sup>29</sup><br> +Thirsting for Truth, went wretchedly to Error?<br> +Ye instruments, forsooth, but jeer at me<br> +With wheel and cog, and shapes uncouth of wonder;<br> +I found the portal, you the keys should be;<br> +Your wards are deftly wrought, but drive no bolts asunder!<br> +Mysterious even in open day,<br> +Nature retains her veil, despite our clamors:<br> +That which she doth not willingly display<br> +Cannot be wrenched from her with levers, screws, and hammers.<br> +Ye ancient tools, whose use I never knew,<br> +Here, since my father used ye, still ye moulder:<br> +Thou, ancient scroll, hast worn thy smoky hue<br> +Since at this desk the dim lamp wont to smoulder.<br> +’T were better far, had I my little idly spent,<br> +Than now to sweat beneath its burden, I confess it!<br> +What from your fathers’ heritage is lent,<br> +Earn it anew, to really possess it!<sup>30</sup><br> +What serves not, is a sore impediment:<br> +The Moment’s need creates the thing to serve and bless it!<br> +<br> +Yet, wherefore tums my gaze to yonder point so lightly?<br> +Is yonder flask a magnet for mine eyes?<br> +Whence, all around me, glows the air so brightly,<br> +As when in woods at night the mellow moonbeam lies?<br> +<br> +I hail thee, wondrous, rarest vial!<br> +I take thee down devoutly, for the trial:<br> +Man’s art and wit I venerate in thee.<br> +Thou summary of gentle slumber-juices,<br> +Essence of deadly finest powers and uses,<br> +Unto thy master show thy favor free!<br> +I see thee, and the stings of pain diminish;<br> +I grasp thee, and my struggles slowly finish:<br> +My spirit’s flood-tide ebbeth more and more.<br> +Out on the open ocean speeds my dreaming;<br> +The glassy flood before my feet is gleaming,<br> +A new day beckons to a newer shore!<br> +<br> +A fiery chariot, borne on buoyant pinions,<br> +Sweeps near me now! I soon shall ready be<br> +To pierce the ether’s high, unknown dominions,<br> +To reach new spheres of pure activity!<br> +This godlike rapture, this supreme existence,<br> +Do I, but now a worm, deserve to track?<br> +Yes, resolute to reach some brighter distance,<br> +On Earth’s fair sun I turn my back<sup>31</sup><br> +Yes, let me dare those gates to fling asunder,<br> +Which every man would fain go slinking by!<br> +’T is time, through deeds this word of truth to thunder:<br> +That with the height of Gods Man’s dignity may vie!<br> +Nor from that gloomy gulf to shrink affrighted,<br> +Where Fancy doth herself to self-born pangs compel,—<br> +To struggle toward that pass benighted,<br> +Around whose narrow mouth flame all the fires of Hell,—<br> +To take this step with cheerful resolution,<br> +Though Nothingness should be the certain, swift conclusion!<br> +And now come down, thou cup of crystal clearest!<br> +Fresh from thine ancient cover thou appearest,<br> +So many years forgotten to my thought!<br> +Thou shon’st at old ancestral banquets cheery,<br> +The solemn guests thou madest merry,<br> +When one thy wassail to the other brought.<br> +The rich and skilful figures o’er thee wrought,<br> +The drinker’s duty, rhyme-wise to explain them,<br> +Or in one breath below the mark to drain them,<br> +From many a night of youth my memory caught.<br> +Now to a neighbor shall I pass thee never,<br> +Nor on thy curious art to test my wit endeavor,<br> +Here is a juice whence sleep is swiftly born.<br> +It fills with browner flood thy crystal hollow;<br> +I chose, prepared it: thus I follow,—<br> +With all my soul the final drink I swallow,<br> +A solemn festal cup, a greeting to the morn!<br> +[He sets the goblet to his mouth.<br> +(Chime of bells and choral song.)<br> + <br> + <br> +CHORUS OF ANGELS.<sup>32</sup><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Christ is arisen!</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Joy to the Mortal One,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Whom the unmerited,</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Clinging, inherited</span><br> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Needs did imprison.</span><br> + <br> + <br> +FAUST.<br> +What hollow humming, what a sharp, clear stroke,<br> +Drives from my lip the goblet’s, at their meeting?<br> +Announce the booming bells already woke<br> +The first glad hour of Easter’s festal greeting?<br> + Ye choirs, have ye begun the sweet, consoling chant,<br> + Which, through the night of Death, the angels ministrant<br> + Sang, God’s new Covenant repeating?<br> + <br> + <br> + CHORUS OF WOMEN<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">With spices and precious</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Balm, we arrayed him;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Faithful and gracious,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">We tenderly laid him:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Linen to bind him</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Cleanlily wound we:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ah! when we would find him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Christ no more found we!</span><br> + <br> + <br> + CHORUS OF ANGELS<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Christ is ascended!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Bliss hath invested him,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Woes that molested him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Trials that tested him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Gloriously ended!</span><br> + <br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Why, here in dust, entice me with your spell,<br> + Ye gentle, powerful sounds of Heaven?<br> + Peal rather there, where tender natures dwell.<br> + Your messages I hear, but faith has not been given;<br> + The dearest child of Faith is Miracle.<br> + I venture not to soar to yonder regions<br> + Whence the glad tidings hither float;<br> + And yet, from childhood up familiar with the note,<br> + To Life it now renews the old allegiance.<br> + Once Heavenly Love sent down a burning kiss<br> + Upon my brow, in Sabbath silence holy;<br> + And, filled with mystic presage, chimed the church-bell slowly,<br> + And prayer dissolved me in a fervent bliss.<br> + A sweet, uncomprehended yearning<br> + Drove forth my feet through woods and meadows free,<br> + And while a thousand tears were burning,<br> + I felt a world arise for me.<br> + These chants, to youth and all its sports appealing,<br> + Proclaimed the Spring’s rejoicing holiday;<br> + And Memory holds me now, with childish feeling,<br> + Back from the last, the solemn way.<br> + Sound on, ye hymns of Heaven, so sweet and mild!<br> + My tears gush forth: the Earth takes back her child!<br> + <br> + <br> + CHORUS OF DISCIPLES<br> + <br> +</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Has He, victoriously,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Burst from the vaulted</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Grave, and all-gloriously</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Now sits exalted?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Is He, in glow of birth,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Rapture creative near?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah! to the woe of earth</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Still are we native here.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">We, his aspiring</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Followers, Him we miss;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Weeping, desiring,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Master, Thy bliss!</span><br> + </p> + <p>CHORUS OF ANGELS</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Christ is arisen,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Out of Corruption’s womb:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Burst ye the prison,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Break from your gloom!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Praising and pleading him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Lovingly needing him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Brotherly feeding him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Preaching and speeding him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Blessing, succeeding Him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thus is the Master near,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thus is He here!</span><br> + </p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-053.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="II"></a>II</h2></div> + <p>BEFORE THE CITY-GATE</p> + <p>(<i>Pedestrians of all kinds come forth</i>.)</p> + <p>SEVERAL APPRENTICES</p> + <p>Why do you go that way?</p> + <p>OTHERS</p> + <p>We’re for the Hunters’ lodge, to-day.</p> + <p>THE FIRST</p> + <p>We’ll saunter to the Mill, in yonder hollow.</p> + <p>AN APPRENTICE</p> + <p>Go to the River Tavern, I should say.</p> + <p>SECOND APPRENTICE</p> + <p>But then, it’s not a pleasant way.</p> + <p>THE OTHERS</p> + <p>And what will <i>you</i>?</p> + <p>A THIRD</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 6em;">As goes the crowd, I follow.</span><br></p> + + <p>A FOURTH</p> + <p>Come up to Burgdorf? There you’ll find good cheer,<br> + The finest lasses and the best of beer,<br> + And jolly rows and squabbles, trust me!</p> + <p>A FIFTH</p> + <p>You swaggering fellow, is your hide<br> + A third time itching to be tried?<br> + I won’t go there, your jolly rows disgust me!</p> + <p>SERVANT-GIRL</p> + <p>No,—no! I’ll turn and go to town again.</p> + <p>ANOTHER</p> + <p>We’ll surely find him by those poplars yonder.</p> + <p>THE FIRST</p> + <p>That’s no great luck for me, ’tis plain.<br> + You’ll have him, when and where you wander:<br> + His partner in the dance you’ll be,—<br> + But what is all your fun to me?</p> + <p>THE OTHER</p> + <p>He’s surely not alone to-day:<br> + He’ll be with Curly-head, I heard him say.</p> + <p>A STUDENT</p> + <p>Deuce! how they step, the buxom wenches!<br> + Come, Brother! we must see them to the benches.<br> + A strong, old beer, a pipe that stings and bites,<br> + A girl in Sunday clothes,—these three are my delights.</p> + <p>CITIZEN’S DAUGHTER</p> + <p>Just see those handsome fellows, there!<br> + It’s really shameful, I declare;—<br> + To follow servant-girls, when they<br> + Might have the most genteel society to-day!</p> + <p>SECOND STUDENT (<i>to the First</i>)</p> + <p>Not quite so fast! Two others come behind,—<br> + Those, dressed so prettily and neatly.<br> + My neighbor’s one of them, I find,<br> + A girl that takes my heart, completely.<br> + They go their way with looks demure,<br> + But they’ll accept us, after all, I’m sure.</p> + <p>THE FIRST</p> + <p>No, Brother! not for me their formal ways.<br> + Quick! lest our game escape us in the press:<br> + The hand that wields the broom on Saturdays<br> + Will best, on Sundays, fondle and caress.</p> + <p>CITIZEN</p> + <p>He suits me not at all, our new-made Burgomaster!<br> + Since he’s installed, his arrogance grows faster.<br> + How has he helped the town, I say?<br> + Things worsen,—what improvement names he?<br> + Obedience, more than ever, claims he,<br> + And more than ever we must pay!</p> + <p>BEGGAR (<i>sings</i>)</p> + <p> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Good gentlemen and lovely ladies,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">So red of cheek and fine of dress,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Behold, how needful here your aid is,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">And see and lighten my distress!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let me not vainly sing my ditty;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">He’s only glad who gives away:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">A holiday, that shows your pity,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shall be for me a harvest-day!</span><br> +</p> + <p>ANOTHER CITIZEN</p> + <p>On Sundays, holidays, there’s naught I take delight in,<br> + Like gossiping of war, and war’s array,<br> + When down in Turkey, far away,<br> + The foreign people are a-fighting.<br> + One at the window sits, with glass and friends,<br> + And sees all sorts of ships go down the river gliding:<br> + And blesses then, as home he wends<br> + At night, our times of peace abiding.</p> + <p>THIRD CITIZEN</p> + <p>Yes, Neighbor! that’s my notion, too:<br> + Why, let them break their heads, let loose their passions,<br> + And mix things madly through and through,<br> + So, here, we keep our good old fashions!</p> + <p>OLD WOMAN (<i>to the Citizen’s Daughter</i>)</p> + <p>Dear me, how fine! So handsome, and so young!<br> + Who wouldn’t lose his heart, that met you?<br> + Don’t be so proud! I’ll hold my tongue,<br> + And what you’d like I’ll undertake to get you.</p> + <p>CITIZEN’S DAUGHTER</p> + <p>Come, Agatha! I shun the witch’s sight<br> + Before folks, lest there be misgiving:<br> + ’Tis true, she showed me, on Saint Andrew’s Night,<br> + My future sweetheart, just as he were living.</p> + <p>THE OTHER</p> + <p>She showed me mine, in crystal clear,<br> + With several wild young blades, a soldier-lover:<br> + I seek him everywhere, I pry and peer,<br> + And yet, somehow, his face I can’t discover.</p> + <p>SOLDIERS</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Castles, with lofty</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ramparts and towers,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Maidens disdainful</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">In Beauty’s array,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Both shall be ours!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Bold is the venture,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Splendid the pay!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Lads, let the trumpets</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">For us be suing,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Calling to pleasure,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Calling to ruin.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Stormy our life is;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Such is its boon!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Maidens and castles</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Capitulate soon.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Bold is the venture,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Splendid the pay!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And the soldiers go marching,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Marching away!</span><br> + </p> + <p>FAUST AND WAGNER</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Released from ice are brook and river<br> + By the quickening glance of the gracious Spring;<br> + The colors of hope to the valley cling,<br> + And weak old Winter himself must shiver,<br> + Withdrawn to the mountains, a crownless king:<br> + Whence, ever retreating, he sends again<br> + Impotent showers of sleet that darkle<br> + In belts across the green o’ the plain.<br> + But the sun will permit no white to sparkle;<br> + Everywhere form in development moveth;<br> + He will brighten the world with the tints he loveth,<br> + And, lacking blossoms, blue, yellow, and red,<br> + He takes these gaudy people instead.<br> + Turn thee about, and from this height<br> + Back on the town direct thy sight.<br> + Out of the hollow, gloomy gate,<br> + The motley throngs come forth elate:<br> + Each will the joy of the sunshine hoard,<br> + To honor the Day of the Risen Lord!<br> + They feel, themselves, their resurrection:<br> + From the low, dark rooms, scarce habitable;<br> + From the bonds of Work, from Trade’s restriction;<br> + From the pressing weight of roof and gable;<br> + From the narrow, crushing streets and alleys;<br> + From the churches’ solemn and reverend night,<br> + All come forth to the cheerful light.<br> + How lively, see! the multitude sallies,<br> + Scattering through gardens and fields remote,<br> + While over the river, that broadly dallies,<br> + Dances so many a festive boat;<br> + And overladen, nigh to sinking,<br> + The last full wherry takes the stream.<br> + Yonder afar, from the hill-paths blinking,<br> + Their clothes are colors that softly gleam.<br> + I hear the noise of the village, even;<br> + Here is the People’s proper Heaven;<br> + Here high and low contented see!<br> + Here I am Man,—dare man to be!</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>To stroll with you, Sir Doctor, flatters;<br> + ’Tis honor, profit, unto me.<br> + But I, alone, would shun these shallow matters,<br> + Since all that’s coarse provokes my enmity.<br> + This fiddling, shouting, ten-pin rolling<br> + I hate,—these noises of the throng:<br> + They rave, as Satan were their sports controlling.<br> + And call it mirth, and call it song!</p> + <p>PEASANTS, UNDER THE LINDEN-TREE<br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">(<i>Dance and Song</i>.)</span><br></p> + + <p><span style="margin-left: 5em;">All for the dance the shepherd + dressed,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">In ribbons, wreath, and gayest vest</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Himself with care arraying:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Around the linden lass and lad</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Already footed it like mad:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah! hurrah!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah—tarara-la!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">The fiddle-bow was playing.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">He broke the ranks, no whit afraid,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And with his elbow punched a maid,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Who stood, the dance surveying:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">The buxom wench, she turned and said:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">“Now, you I call a stupid-head!”</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah! hurrah!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah—tarara-la!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">“Be decent while you’re staying!”</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Then round the circle went their + flight,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">They danced to left, they danced to + right:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Their kirtles all were playing.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">They first grew red, and then grew + warm,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And rested, panting, arm in arm,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah! hurrah!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah—tarara-la!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And hips and elbows straying.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Now, don’t be so familiar here!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">How many a one has fooled his dear,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Waylaying and betraying!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And yet, he coaxed her soon aside,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And round the linden sounded wide.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah! hurrah!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah—tarara-la!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And the fiddle-bow was playing.</span><br> + </p> + <p>OLD PEASANT</p> + <p>Sir Doctor, it is good of you,<br> + That thus you condescend, to-day,<br> + Among this crowd of merry folk,<br> + A highly-learned man, to stray.<br> + Then also take the finest can,<br> + We fill with fresh wine, for your sake:<br> + I offer it, and humbly wish<br> + That not alone your thirst is slake,—<br> + That, as the drops below its brink,<br> + So many days of life you drink!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I take the cup you kindly reach,<br> + With thanks and health to all and each.</p> + <p>(<i>The People gather in a circle about him</i>.)</p> + <p>OLD PEASANT</p> + <p>In truth, ’tis well and fitly timed,<br> + That now our day of joy you share,<br> + Who heretofore, in evil days,<br> + Gave us so much of helping care.<br> + Still many a man stands living here,<br> + Saved by your father’s skillful hand,<br> + That snatched him from the fever’s rage<br> + And stayed the plague in all the land.<br> + Then also you, though but a youth,<br> + Went into every house of pain:<br> + Many the corpses carried forth,<br> + But you in health came out again.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>No test or trial you evaded:<br> + A Helping God the helper aided.</p> + <p>ALL</p> + <p>Health to the man, so skilled and tried.<br> + That for our help he long may abide!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>To Him above bow down, my friends,<br> + Who teaches help, and succor sends!</p> + <p>(<i>He goes on with</i> WAGNER.)</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>With what a feeling, thou great man, must thou<br> + Receive the people’s honest veneration!<br> + How lucky he, whose gifts his station<br> + With such advantages endow!<br> + Thou’rt shown to all the younger generation:<br> + Each asks, and presses near to gaze;<br> + The fiddle stops, the dance delays.<br> + Thou goest, they stand in rows to see,<br> + And all the caps are lifted high;<br> + A little more, and they would bend the knee<br> + As if the Holy Host came by.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>A few more steps ascend, as far as yonder stone!—<br> + Here from our wandering will we rest contented.<br> + Here, lost in thought, I’ve lingered oft alone,<br> + When foolish fasts and prayers my life tormented.<br> + Here, rich in hope and firm in faith,<br> + With tears, wrung hands and sighs, I’ve striven,<br> + The end of that far-spreading death<br> + Entreating from the Lord of Heaven!<br> + Now like contempt the crowd’s applauses seem:<br> + Couldst thou but read, within mine inmost spirit,<br> + How little now I deem,<br> + That sire or son such praises merit!<br> + My father’s was a sombre, brooding brain,<br> + Which through the holy spheres of Nature groped and wandered,<br> + And honestly, in his own fashion, pondered<br> + With labor whimsical, and pain:<br> + Who, in his dusky work-shop bending,<br> + With proved adepts in company,<br> + Made, from his recipes unending,<br> + Opposing substances agree.<br> + There was a Lion red, a wooer daring,<br> + Within the Lily’s tepid bath espoused,<br> + And both, tormented then by flame unsparing,<br> + By turns in either bridal chamber housed.<br> + If then appeared, with colors splendid,<br> + The young Queen in her crystal shell,<br> + This was the medicine—the patients’ woes soon ended,<br> + And none demanded: who got well?<br> + Thus we, our hellish boluses compounding,<br> + Among these vales and hills surrounding,<br> + Worse than the pestilence, have passed.<br> + Thousands were done to death from poison of my giving;<br> + And I must hear, by all the living,<br> + The shameless murderers praised at last!</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>Why, therefore, yield to such depression?<br> + A good man does his honest share<br> + In exercising, with the strictest care,<br> + The art bequeathed to his possession!<br> + Dost thou thy father honor, as a youth?<br> + Then may his teaching cheerfully impel thee:<br> + Dost thou, as man, increase the stores of truth?<br> + Then may thine own son afterwards excel thee.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>O happy he, who still renews<br> + The hope, from Error’s deeps to rise forever!<br> + That which one does not know, one needs to use;<br> + And what one knows, one uses never.<br> + But let us not, by such despondence, so<br> + The fortune of this hour embitter!<br> + Mark how, beneath the evening sunlight’s glow,<br> + The green-embosomed houses glitter!<br> + The glow retreats, done is the day of toil;<br> + It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring;<br> + Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil,<br> + Upon its track to follow, follow soaring!<br> + Then would I see eternal Evening gild<br> + The silent world beneath me glowing,<br> + On fire each mountain-peak, with peace each valley filled,<br> + The silver brook to golden rivers flowing.<br> + The mountain-chain, with all its gorges deep,<br> + Would then no more impede my godlike motion;<br> + And now before mine eyes expands the ocean<br> + With all its bays, in shining sleep!<br> + Yet, finally, the weary god is sinking;<br> + The new-born impulse fires my mind,—<br> + I hasten on, his beams eternal drinking,<br> + The Day before me and the Night behind,<br> + Above me heaven unfurled, the floor of waves beneath me,—<br> + A glorious dream! though now the glories fade.<br> + Alas! the wings that lift the mind no aid<br> + Of wings to lift the body can bequeath me.<br> + Yet in each soul is born the pleasure<br> + Of yearning onward, upward and away,<br> + When o’er our heads, lost in the vaulted azure,<br> + The lark sends down his flickering lay,—<br> + When over crags and piny highlands<br> + The poising eagle slowly soars,<br> + And over plains and lakes and islands<br> + The crane sails by to other shores.</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>I’ve had, myself, at times, some odd caprices,<br> + But never yet such impulse felt, as this is.<br> + One soon fatigues, on woods and fields to look,<br> + Nor would I beg the bird his wing to spare us:<br> + How otherwise the mental raptures bear us<br> + From page to page, from book to book!<br> + Then winter nights take loveliness untold,<br> + As warmer life in every limb had crowned you;<br> + And when your hands unroll some parchment rare and old,<br> + All Heaven descends, and opens bright around you!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>One impulse art thou conscious of, at best;<br> + O, never seek to know the other!<br> + Two souls, alas! reside within my breast,<br> + And each withdraws from, and repels, its brother.<br> + One with tenacious organs holds in love<br> + And clinging lust the world in its embraces;<br> + The other strongly sweeps, this dust above,<br> + Into the high ancestral spaces.<br> + If there be airy spirits near,<br> + ’Twixt Heaven and Earth on potent errands fleeing,<br> + Let them drop down the golden atmosphere,<br> + And bear me forth to new and varied being!<br> + Yea, if a magic mantle once were mine,<br> + To waft me o’er the world at pleasure,<br> + I would not for the costliest stores of treasure—<br> + Not for a monarch’s robe—the gift resign.</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>Invoke not thus the well-known throng,<br> + Which through the firmament diffused is faring,<br> + And danger thousand-fold, our race to wrong.<br> + In every quarter is preparing.<br> + Swift from the North the spirit-fangs so sharp<br> + Sweep down, and with their barbéd points assail you;<br> + Then from the East they come, to dry and warp<br> + Your lungs, till breath and being fail you:<br> + If from the Desert sendeth them the South,<br> + With fire on fire your throbbing forehead crowning,<br> + The West leads on a host, to cure the drouth<br> + Only when meadow, field, and you are drowning.<br> + They gladly hearken, prompt for injury,—<br> + Gladly obey, because they gladly cheat us;<br> + From Heaven they represent themselves to be,<br> + And lisp like angels, when with lies they meet us.<br> + But, let us go! ’Tis gray and dusky all:<br> + The air is cold, the vapors fall.<br> + At night, one learns his house to prize:—<br> + Why stand you thus, with such astonished eyes?<br> + What, in the twilight, can your mind so trouble?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Seest thou the black dog coursing there, through corn and<br> + stubble?</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>Long since: yet deemed him not important in the least.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Inspect him close: for what tak’st thou the beast?</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>Why, for a poodle who has lost his master,<br> + And scents about, his track to find.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Seest thou the spiral circles, narrowing faster,<br> + Which he, approaching, round us seems to wind?<br> + A streaming trail of fire, if I see rightly,<br> + Follows his path of mystery.</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>It may be that your eyes deceive you slightly;<br> + Naught but a plain black poodle do I see.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>It seems to me that with enchanted cunning<br> + He snares our feet, some future chain to bind.</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>I see him timidly, in doubt, around us running,<br> + Since, in his master’s stead, two strangers doth he find.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The circle narrows: he is near!</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>A dog thou seest, and not a phantom, here!<br> + Behold him stop—upon his belly crawl—His<br> + tail set wagging: canine habits, all!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Come, follow us! Come here, at least!</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>’Tis the absurdest, drollest beast.<br> + Stand still, and you will see him wait;<br> + Address him, and he gambols straight;<br> + If something’s lost, he’ll quickly bring it,—<br> + Your cane, if in the stream you fling it.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>No doubt you’re right: no trace of mind, I own,<br> + Is in the beast: I see but drill, alone.</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>The dog, when he’s well educated,<br> + Is by the wisest tolerated.<br> + Yes, he deserves your favor thoroughly,—<br> + The clever scholar of the students, he!</p> + <p>(<i>They pass in the city-gate</i>.)</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-067.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-068.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="III"></a>III</h2></div> + <p>THE STUDY</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>(<i>Entering, with the poodle</i>.)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Behind me, field and meadow + sleeping,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I leave in deep, prophetic night,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Within whose dread and holy keeping</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The better soul awakes to light.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The wild desires no longer win us,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The deeds of passion cease to chain;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The love of Man revives within us,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The love of God revives again.</span><br> + </p> + <p>Be still, thou poodle; make not such racket and riot!<br> + Why at the threshold wilt snuffing be?<br> + Behind the stove repose thee in quiet!<br> + My softest cushion I give to thee.<br> + As thou, up yonder, with running and leaping<br> + Amused us hast, on the mountain’s crest,<br> + </p> + <p>So now I take thee into my keeping,<br> + A welcome, but also a silent, guest.</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Ah, when, within our narrow chamber</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The lamp with friendly lustre glows,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Flames in the breast each faded + ember,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And in the heart, itself that knows.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Then Hope again lends sweet + assistance,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And Reason then resumes her speech:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">One yearns, the rivers of existence,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The very founts of Life, to reach.</span><br> + </p> + <p>Snarl not, poodle! To the sound that rises,<br> + The sacred tones that my soul embrace,<br> + This bestial noise is out of place.<br> + We are used to see, that Man despises<br> + What he never comprehends,<br> + And the Good and the Beautiful vilipends,<br> + Finding them often hard to measure:<br> + Will the dog, like man, snarl <i>his</i> displeasure?</p> + <p>But ah! I feel, though will thereto be stronger,<br> + Contentment flows from out my breast no longer.<br> + Why must the stream so soon run dry and fail us,<br> + And burning thirst again assail us?<br> + Therein I’ve borne so much probation!<br> + And yet, this want may be supplied us;<br> + We call the Supernatural to guide us;<br> + We pine and thirst for Revelation,<br> + Which nowhere worthier is, more nobly sent,<br> + Than here, in our New Testament.<br> + I feel impelled, its meaning to determine,—<br> + With honest purpose, once for all,<br> + The hallowed Original<br> + To change to my beloved German.<br> + </p> + <p>(<i>He opens a volume, and commences</i>.)<br> + ’Tis written: “In the Beginning was the <i>Word</i>.”<br> + Here am I balked: who, now can help afford?<br> + The <i>Word?</i>—impossible so high to rate it;<br> + And otherwise must I translate it.<br> + If by the Spirit I am truly taught.<br> + Then thus: “In the Beginning was the <i>Thought</i>”<br> + This first line let me weigh completely,<br> + Lest my impatient pen proceed too fleetly.<br> + Is it the <i>Thought</i> which works, creates, indeed?<br> + “In the Beginning was the <i>Power,”</i> I read.<br> + Yet, as I write, a warning is suggested,<br> + That I the sense may not have fairly tested.<br> + The Spirit aids me: now I see the light!<br> + “In the Beginning was the <i>Act</i>,” I write.<br> + <br> + If I must share my chamber with thee,<br> + Poodle, stop that howling, prithee!<br> + Cease to bark and bellow!<br> + Such a noisy, disturbing fellow<br> + I’ll no longer suffer near me.<br> + One of us, dost hear me!<br> + Must leave, I fear me.<br> + No longer guest-right I bestow;<br> + The door is open, art free to go.<br> + But what do I see in the creature?<br> + Is that in the course of nature?<br> + Is’t actual fact? or Fancy’s shows?<br> + How long and broad my poodle grows!<br> + He rises mightily:<br> + A canine form that cannot be!<br> + What a spectre I’ve harbored thus!<br> + He resembles a hippopotamus,<br> + With fiery eyes, teeth terrible to see:<br> + O, now am I sure of thee!<br> + For all of thy half-hellish brood<br> + The Key of Solomon is good.<br> + <br> + </p> + <p>SPIRITS (<i>in the corridor</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Some one, within, is caught!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Stay without, follow him not!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Like the fox in a snare,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Quakes the old hell-lynx there.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Take heed—look about!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Back and forth hover,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Under and over,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And he’ll work himself out.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">If your aid avail him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Let it not fail him;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">For he, without measure,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Has wrought for our pleasure.</span><br> + </p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>First, to encounter the beast,<br> + The Words of the Four be addressed:<br> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Salamander, shine glorious!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wave, Undine, as bidden!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sylph, be thou hidden!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Gnome, be laborious!</span><br> + </p> + <p>Who knows not their sense<br> + (These elements),—<br> + Their properties<br> + And power not sees,—<br> + No mastery he inherits<br> + Over the Spirits.</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Vanish in flaming ether,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Salamander!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Flow foamingly together,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Undine!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Shine in meteor-sheen,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Sylph!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bring help to hearth and shelf.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Incubus! Incubus!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Step forward, and finish thus!</span><br> + </p> + <p>Of the Four, no feature<br> + Lurks in the creature.<br> + Quiet he lies, and grins disdain:<br> + Not yet, it seems, have I given him pain.<br> + Now, to undisguise thee,<br> + Hear me exorcise thee!<br> + Art thou, my gay one,<br> + Hell’s fugitive stray-one?<br> + The sign witness now,<br> + Before which they bow,<br> + The cohorts of Hell!</p> + <p>With hair all bristling, it begins to swell.</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Base Being, hearest thou?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Knowest and fearest thou</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The One, unoriginate,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Named inexpressibly,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Through all Heaven impermeate,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Pierced irredressibly!</span><br> + </p> + <p>Behind the stove still banned,<br> + See it, an elephant, expand!<br> + It fills the space entire,<br> + Mist-like melting, ever faster.<br> + ’Tis enough: ascend no higher,—<br> + Lay thyself at the feet of the Master!<br> + Thou seest, not vain the threats I bring thee:<br> + With holy fire I’ll scorch and sting thee!<br> + Wait not to know<br> + The threefold dazzling glow!<br> + Wait not to know<br> + The strongest art within my hands!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>(<i>while the vapor is dissipating, steps forth from behind the<br> + stove, in the costume of a Travelling Scholar</i>.)<br> + Why such a noise? What are my lord’s commands?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>This was the poodle’s real core,<br> + A travelling scholar, then? The <i>casus</i> is diverting.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The learned gentleman I bow before:<br> + You’ve made me roundly sweat, that’s certain!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What is thy name?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>A question small, it seems,<br> + For one whose mind the Word so much despises;<br> + Who, scorning all external gleams,<br> + The depths of being only prizes.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>With all you gentlemen, the name’s a test,<br> + Whereby the nature usually is expressed.<br> + Clearly the latter it implies<br> + In names like Beelzebub, Destroyer, Father of Lies.<br> + Who art thou, then?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Part of that Power, not understood,<br> + Which always wills the Bad, and always works the Good.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What hidden sense in this enigma lies?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I am the Spirit that Denies!<br> + And justly so: for all things, from the Void<br> + Called forth, deserve to be destroyed:<br> + ’Twere better, then, were naught created.<br> + Thus, all which you as Sin have rated,—<br> + Destruction,—aught with Evil blent,—<br> + That is my proper element.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou nam’st thyself a part, yet show’st complete to me?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The modest truth I speak to thee.<br> + If Man, that microcosmic fool, can see<br> + Himself a whole so frequently,<br> + Part of the Part am I, once All, in primal Night,—<br> + Part of the Darkness which brought forth the Light,<br> + The haughty Light, which now disputes the space,<br> + And claims of Mother Night her ancient place.<br> + And yet, the struggle fails; since Light, howe’er it weaves,<br> + Still, fettered, unto bodies cleaves:<br> + It flows from bodies, bodies beautifies;<br> + By bodies is its course impeded;<br> + And so, but little time is needed,<br> + I hope, ere, as the bodies die, it dies!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I see the plan thou art pursuing:<br> + Thou canst not compass general ruin,<br> + And hast on smaller scale begun.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And truly ’tis not much, when all is done.<br> + That which to Naught is in resistance set,—<br> + The Something of this clumsy world,—has yet,<br> + With all that I have undertaken,<br> + Not been by me disturbed or shaken:<br> + From earthquake, tempest, wave, volcano’s brand,<br> + Back into quiet settle sea and land!<br> + And that damned stuff, the bestial, human brood,—<br> + What use, in having that to play with?<br> + How many have I made away with!<br> + And ever circulates a newer, fresher blood.<br> + It makes me furious, such things beholding:<br> + From Water, Earth, and Air unfolding,<br> + A thousand germs break forth and grow,<br> + In dry, and wet, and warm, and chilly;<br> + And had I not the Flame reserved, why, really,<br> + There’s nothing special of my own to show!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>So, to the actively eternal<br> + Creative force, in cold disdain<br> + You now oppose the fist infernal,<br> + Whose wicked clench is all in vain!<br> + Some other labor seek thou rather,<br> + Queer Son of Chaos, to begin!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Well, we’ll consider: thou canst gather<br> + My views, when next I venture in.<br> + Might I, perhaps, depart at present?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Why thou shouldst ask, I don’t perceive.<br> + Though our acquaintance is so recent,<br> + For further visits thou hast leave.<br> + The window’s here, the door is yonder;<br> + A chimney, also, you behold.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I must confess that forth I may not wander,<br> + My steps by one slight obstacle controlled,—<br> + The wizard’s-foot, that on your threshold made is.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The pentagram prohibits thee?<br> + Why, tell me now, thou Son of Hades,<br> + If that prevents, how cam’st thou in to me?<br> + Could such a spirit be so cheated?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Inspect the thing: the drawing’s not completed.<br> + The outer angle, you may see,<br> + Is open left—the lines don’t fit it.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Well,—Chance, this time, has fairly hit it!<br> + And thus, thou’rt prisoner to me?<br> + It seems the business has succeeded.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The poodle naught remarked, as after thee he speeded;<br> + But other aspects now obtain:<br> + The Devil can’t get out again.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Try, then, the open window-pane!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>For Devils and for spectres this is law:<br> + Where they have entered in, there also they withdraw.<br> + The first is free to us; we’re governed by the second.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>In Hell itself, then, laws are reckoned?<br> + That’s well! So might a compact be<br> + Made with you gentlemen—and binding,—surely?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>All that is promised shall delight thee purely;<br> + No skinflint bargain shalt thou see.<br> + But this is not of swift conclusion;<br> + We’ll talk about the matter soon.<br> + And now, I do entreat this boon—<br> + Leave to withdraw from my intrusion.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>One moment more I ask thee to remain,<br> + Some pleasant news, at least, to tell me.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Release me, now! I soon shall come again;<br> + Then thou, at will, mayst question and compel me.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I have not snares around thee cast;<br> + Thyself hast led thyself into the meshes.<br> + Who traps the Devil, hold him fast!<br> + Not soon a second time he’ll catch a prey so precious.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>An’t please thee, also I’m content to stay,<br> + And serve thee in a social station;<br> + But stipulating, that I may<br> + With arts of mine afford thee recreation.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thereto I willingly agree,<br> + If the diversion pleasant be.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>My friend, thou’lt win, past all pretences,<br> + More in this hour to soothe thy senses,<br> + Than in the year’s monotony.<br> + That which the dainty spirits sing thee,<br> + The lovely pictures they shall bring thee,<br> + Are more than magic’s empty show.<br> + Thy scent will be to bliss invited;<br> + Thy palate then with taste delighted,<br> + Thy nerves of touch ecstatic glow!<br> + All unprepared, the charm I spin:<br> + We’re here together, so begin!</p> + <p>SPIRITS</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Vanish, ye darking</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Arches above him!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Loveliest weather,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Born of blue ether,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Break from the sky!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">O that the darkling</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Clouds had departed!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Starlight is sparkling,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Tranquiller-hearted</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Suns are on high.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Heaven’s own children</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In beauty bewildering,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Waveringly bending,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Pass as they hover;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Longing unending</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Follows them over.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">They, with their glowing</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Garments, out-flowing,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Cover, in going,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Landscape and bower,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Where, in seclusion,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Lovers are plighted,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Lost in illusion.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bower on bower!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Tendrils unblighted!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Lo! in a shower</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Grapes that o’ercluster</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Gush into must, or</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Flow into rivers</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Of foaming and flashing</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Wine, that is dashing</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Gems, as it boundeth</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Down the high places,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And spreading, surroundeth</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">With crystalline spaces,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In happy embraces,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Blossoming forelands,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Emerald shore-lands!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the winged races</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Drink, and fly onward—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Fly ever sunward</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To the enticing</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Islands, that flatter,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Dipping and rising</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Light on the water!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Hark, the inspiring</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Sound of their quiring!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">See, the entrancing</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Whirl of their dancing!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">All in the air are</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Freer and fairer.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Some of them scaling</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Boldly the highlands,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Others are sailing,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Circling the islands;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Others are flying;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Life-ward all hieing,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">All for the distant</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Star of existent</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Rapture and Love!</span><br> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>He sleeps! Enough, ye fays! your airy number<br> + Have sung him truly into slumber:<br> + For this performance I your debtor prove.—<br> + Not yet art thou the man, to catch the Fiend and hold him!—<br> + With fairest images of dreams infold him,<br> + Plunge him in seas of sweet untruth!<br> + Yet, for the threshold’s magic which controlled him,<br> + The Devil needs a rat’s quick tooth.<br> + I use no lengthened invocation:<br> + Here rustles one that soon will work my liberation.</p> + <p>The lord of rats and eke of mice,<br> + Of flies and bed-bugs, frogs and lice,<br> + Summons thee hither to the door-sill,<br> + To gnaw it where, with just a morsel<br> + Of oil, he paints the spot for thee:—<br> + There com’st thou, hopping on to me!<br> + To work, at once! The point which made me craven<br> + Is forward, on the ledge, engraven.<br> + Another bite makes free the door:<br> + So, dream thy dreams, O Faust, until we meet once more!</p> + <p>FAUST <i>(awaking)</i></p> + <p>Am I again so foully cheated?<br> + Remains there naught of lofty spirit-sway,<br> + But that a dream the Devil counterfeited,<br> + And that a poodle ran away?</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-081.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="IV"></a>IV</h2></div> + <p>THE STUDY</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>A knock? Come in! Again my quiet broken?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>’Tis I!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Come in!</span><br></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 9em;">Thrice must the words be spoken.</span><br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Come in, then!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Thus thou pleasest me.</span><br> + I hope we’ll suit each other well;<br> + For now, thy vapors to dispel,<br> + I come, a squire of high degree,<br> + In scarlet coat, with golden trimming,<br> + A cloak in silken lustre swimming,<br> + A tall cock’s-feather in my hat,<br> + A long, sharp sword for show or quarrel,—<br> + And I advise thee, brief and flat,<br> + To don the self-same gay apparel,<br> + That, from this den released, and free,<br> + Life be at last revealed to thee!<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>This life of earth, whatever my attire,<br> + Would pain me in its wonted fashion.<br> + Too old am I to play with passion;<br> + Too young, to be without desire.<br> + What from the world have I to gain?<br> + Thou shalt abstain—renounce—refrain!<br> + Such is the everlasting song<br> + That in the ears of all men rings,—<br> + That unrelieved, our whole life long,<br> + Each hour, in passing, hoarsely sings.<br> + In very terror I at morn awake,<br> + Upon the verge of bitter weeping,<br> + To see the day of disappointment break,<br> + To no one hope of mine—not one—its promise keeping:—<br> + That even each joy’s presentiment<br> + With wilful cavil would diminish,<br> + With grinning masks of life prevent<br> + My mind its fairest work to finish!<br> + Then, too, when night descends, how anxiously<br> + Upon my couch of sleep I lay me:<br> + There, also, comes no rest to me,<br> + But some wild dream is sent to fray me.<br> + The God that in my breast is owned<br> + Can deeply stir the inner sources;<br> + The God, above my powers enthroned,<br> + He cannot change external forces.<br> + So, by the burden of my days oppressed,<br> + Death is desired, and Life a thing unblest!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And yet is never Death a wholly welcome guest.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>O fortunate, for whom, when victory glances,<br> + The bloody laurels on the brow he bindeth!<br> + Whom, after rapid, maddening dances,<br> + In clasping maiden-arms he findeth!<br> + O would that I, before that spirit-power,<br> + Ravished and rapt from life, had sunken!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And yet, by some one, in that nightly hour,<br> + A certain liquid was not drunken.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Eavesdropping, ha! thy pleasure seems to be.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Omniscient am I not; yet much is known to me.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Though some familiar tone, retrieving<br> + My thoughts from torment, led me on,<br> + And sweet, clear echoes came, deceiving<br> + A faith bequeathed from Childhood’s dawn,<br> + Yet now I curse whate’er entices<br> + And snares the soul with visions vain;<br> + With dazzling cheats and dear devices<br> + Confines it in this cave of pain!<br> + Cursed be, at once, the high ambition<br> + Wherewith the mind itself deludes!<br> + Cursed be the glare of apparition<br> + That on the finer sense intrudes!<br> + Cursed be the lying dream’s impression<br> + Of name, and fame, and laurelled brow!<br> + Cursed, all that flatters as possession,<br> + As wife and child, as knave and plow!<br> + Cursed Mammon be, when he with treasures<br> + To restless action spurs our fate!<br> + Cursed when, for soft, indulgent leisures,<br> + He lays for us the pillows straight!<br> + Cursed be the vine’s transcendent nectar,—<br> + The highest favor Love lets fall!<br> + Cursed, also, Hope!—cursed Faith, the spectre!<br> + And cursed be Patience most of all!</p> + <p>CHORUS OF SPIRITS (<i>invisible</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Woe! woe!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Thou hast it destroyed,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The beautiful world,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">With powerful fist:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In ruin ’tis hurled,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">By the blow of a demigod shattered!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The scattered</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Fragments into the Void we carry,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Deploring</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The beauty perished beyond restoring.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Mightier</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">For the children of men,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Brightlier</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Build it again,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In thine own bosom build it anew!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bid the new career</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Commence,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">With clearer sense,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the new songs of cheer</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Be sung thereto!</span><br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + These are the small dependants<br> + Who give me attendance.<br> + Hear them, to deeds and passion<br> + Counsel in shrewd old-fashion!<br> + Into the world of strife,<br> + Out of this lonely life<br> + That of senses and sap has betrayed thee,<br> + They would persuade thee.<br> + This nursing of the pain forego thee,<br> + That, like a vulture, feeds upon thy breast!<br> + The worst society thou find’st will show thee<br> + Thou art a man among the rest.<br> + But ’tis not meant to thrust<br> + Thee into the mob thou hatest!<br> + I am not one of the greatest,<br> + Yet, wilt thou to me entrust<br> + Thy steps through life, I’ll guide thee,—<br> + Will willingly walk beside thee,—<br> + Will serve thee at once and forever<br> + With best endeavor,<br> + And, if thou art satisfied,<br> + Will as servant, slave, with thee abide.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + And what shall be my counter-service therefor?<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + The time is long: thou need’st not now insist.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + No—no! The Devil is an egotist,<br> + And is not apt, without a why or wherefore,<br> + “For God’s sake,” others to assist.<br> + Speak thy conditions plain and clear!<br> + With such a servant danger comes, I fear.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + <i>Here</i>, an unwearied slave, I’ll wear thy tether,<br> + And to thine every nod obedient be:<br> + When <i>There</i> again we come together,<br> + Then shalt thou do the same for me.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + The <i>There</i> my scruples naught increases.<br> + When thou hast dashed this world to pieces,<br> + The other, then, its place may fill.<br> + Here, on this earth, my pleasures have their sources;<br> + Yon sun beholds my sorrows in his courses;<br> + And when from these my life itself divorces,<br> + Let happen all that can or will!<br> + I’ll hear no more: ’tis vain to ponder<br> + If there we cherish love or hate,<br> + Or, in the spheres we dream of yonder,<br> + A High and Low our souls await.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + In this sense, even, canst thou venture.<br> + Come, bind thyself by prompt indenture,<br> + And thou mine arts with joy shalt see:<br> + What no man ever saw, I’ll give to thee.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Canst thou, poor Devil, give me whatsoever?<br> + When was a human soul, in its supreme endeavor,<br> + E’er understood by such as thou?<br> + Yet, hast thou food which never satiates, now,—<br> + The restless, ruddy gold hast thou,<br> + That runs, quicksilver-like, one’s fingers through,—<br> + A game whose winnings no man ever knew,—<br> + A maid that, even from my breast,<br> + Beckons my neighbor with her wanton glances,<br> + And Honor’s godlike zest,<br> + The meteor that a moment dances,—<br> + Show me the fruits that, ere they’re gathered, rot,<br> + And trees that daily with new leafage clothe them!<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Such a demand alarms me not:<br> + Such treasures have I, and can show them.<br> + But still the time may reach us, good my friend.<br> + When peace we crave and more luxurious diet.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + When on an idler’s bed I stretch myself in quiet.<br> + There let, at once, my record end!<br> + Canst thou with lying flattery rule me,<br> + Until, self-pleased, myself I see,—<br> + Canst thou with rich enjoyment fool me,<br> + Let that day be the last for me!<br> + The bet I offer.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Done!</span><br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <span style="margin-left: 12.5em;">And heartily!</span><br> + When thus I hail the Moment flying:<br> + “Ah, still delay—thou art so fair!”<br> + Then bind me in thy bonds undying,<br> + My final ruin then declare!<br> + Then let the death-bell chime the token.<br> + Then art thou from thy service free!<br> + The clock may stop, the hand be broken,<br> + Then Time be finished unto me!<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Consider well: my memory good is rated.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Thou hast a perfect right thereto.<br> + My powers I have not rashly estimated:<br> + A slave am I, whate’er I do—<br> + If thine, or whose? ’tis needless to debate it.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Then at the Doctors’-banquet I, to-day,<br> + Will as a servant wait behind thee.<br> + But one thing more! Beyond all risk to bind thee,<br> + Give me a line or two, I pray.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Demand’st thou, Pedant, too, a document?<br> + Hast never known a man, nor proved his word’s intent?<br> + Is’t not enough, that what I speak to-day<br> + Shall stand, with all my future days agreeing?<br> + In all its tides sweeps not the world away,<br> + And shall a promise bind my being?<br> + Yet this delusion in our hearts we bear:<br> + Who would himself therefrom deliver?<br> + Blest he, whose bosom Truth makes pure and fair!<br> + No sacrifice shall he repent of ever.<br> + Nathless a parchment, writ and stamped with care,<br> + A spectre is, which all to shun endeavor.<br> + The word, alas! dies even in the pen,<br> + And wax and leather keep the lordship then.<br> + What wilt from me, Base Spirit, say?—<br> + Brass, marble, parchment, paper, clay?<br> + The terms with graver, quill, or chisel, stated?<br> + I freely leave the choice to thee.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Why heat thyself, thus instantly,<br> + With eloquence exaggerated?<br> + Each leaf for such a pact is good;<br> + And to subscribe thy name thou’lt take a drop of blood.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + If thou therewith art fully satisfied,<br> + So let us by the farce abide.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Blood is a juice of rarest quality.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Fear not that I this pact shall seek to sever?<br> + The promise that I make to thee<br> + Is just the sum of my endeavor.<br> + I have myself inflated all too high;<br> + My proper place is thy estate:<br> + The Mighty Spirit deigns me no reply,<br> + And Nature shuts on me her gate.<br> + The thread of Thought at last is broken,<br> + And knowledge brings disgust unspoken.<br> + Let us the sensual deeps explore,<br> + To quench the fervors of glowing passion!<br> + Let every marvel take form and fashion<br> + Through the impervious veil it wore!<br> + Plunge we in Time’s tumultuous dance,<br> + In the rush and roll of Circumstance!<br> + Then may delight and distress,<br> + And worry and success,<br> + Alternately follow, as best they can:<br> + Restless activity proves the man!<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + For you no bound, no term is set.<br> + Whether you everywhere be trying,<br> + Or snatch a rapid bliss in flying,<br> + May it agree with you, what you get!<br> + Only fall to, and show no timid balking.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + But thou hast heard, ’tis not of joy we’re talking.<br> + I take the wildering whirl, enjoyment’s keenest pain,<br> + Enamored hate, exhilarant disdain.<br> + My bosom, of its thirst for knowledge sated,<br> + Shall not, henceforth, from any pang be wrested,<br> + And all of life for all mankind created<br> + Shall be within mine inmost being tested:<br> + The highest, lowest forms my soul shall borrow,<br> + Shall heap upon itself their bliss and sorrow,<br> + And thus, my own sole self to all their selves expanded,<br> + I too, at last, shall with them all be stranded!<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Believe me, who for many a thousand year<br> + The same tough meat have chewed and tested,<br> + That from the cradle to the bier<br> + No man the ancient leaven has digested!<br> + Trust one of us, this Whole supernal<br> + Is made but for a God’s delight!<br> + <i>He</i> dwells in splendor single and eternal,<br> + But <i>us</i> he thrusts in darkness, out of sight,<br> + And <i>you</i> he dowers with Day and Night.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Nay, but I will!<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + A good reply!<br> + One only fear still needs repeating:<br> + The art is long, the time is fleeting.<br> + Then let thyself be taught, say I!<br> + Go, league thyself with a poet,<br> + Give the rein to his imagination,<br> + Then wear the crown, and show it,<br> + Of the qualities of his creation,—<br> + The courage of the lion’s breed,<br> + The wild stag’s speed,<br> + The Italian’s fiery blood,<br> + The North’s firm fortitude!<br> + Let him find for thee the secret tether<br> + That binds the Noble and Mean together.<br> + And teach thy pulses of youth and pleasure<br> + To love by rule, and hate by measure!<br> + I’d like, myself, such a one to see:<br> + Sir Microcosm his name should be.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + What am I, then, if ’tis denied my part<br> + The crown of all humanity to win me,<br> + Whereto yearns every sense within me?<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Why, on the whole, thou’rt—what thou art.<br> + Set wigs of million curls upon thy head, to raise thee,<br> + Wear shoes an ell in height,—the truth betrays thee,<br> + And thou remainest—what thou art.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + I feel, indeed, that I have made the treasure<br> + Of human thought and knowledge mine, in vain;<br> + And if I now sit down in restful leisure,<br> + No fount of newer strength is in my brain:<br> + I am no hair’s-breadth more in height,<br> + Nor nearer, to the Infinite,<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Good Sir, you see the facts precisely<br> + As they are seen by each and all.<br> + We must arrange them now, more wisely,<br> + Before the joys of life shall pall.<br> + Why, Zounds! Both hands and feet are, truly—<br> + And head and virile forces—thine:<br> + Yet all that I indulge in newly,<br> + Is’t thence less wholly mine?<br> + If I’ve six stallions in my stall,<br> + Are not their forces also lent me?<br> + I speed along, completest man of all,<br> + As though my legs were four-and-twenty.<br> + Take hold, then! let reflection rest,<br> + And plunge into the world with zest!<br> + I say to thee, a speculative wight<br> + Is like a beast on moorlands lean,<br> + That round and round some fiend misleads to evil plight,<br> + While all about lie pastures fresh and green.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Then how shall we begin?<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + We’ll try a wider sphere.<br> + What place of martyrdom is here!<br> + Is’t life, I ask, is’t even prudence,<br> + To bore thyself and bore the students?<br> + Let Neighbor Paunch to that attend!<br> + Why plague thyself with threshing straw forever?<br> + The best thou learnest, in the end<br> + Thou dar’st not tell the youngsters—never!<br> + I hear one’s footsteps, hither steering.<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + To see him now I have no heart.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + So long the poor boy waits a hearing,<br> + He must not unconsoled depart.<br> + Thy cap and mantle straightway lend me!<br> + I’ll play the comedy with art.<br> + <br> + (<i>He disguises himself</i>.)<br> + <br> + My wits, be certain, will befriend me.<br> + But fifteen minutes’ time is all I need;<br> + For our fine trip, meanwhile, prepare thyself with speed!<br> + <br> +</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + [<i>Exit</i> FAUST.<br> + <br> + </div> + <p> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + (<i>In</i> FAUST’S <i>long mantle</i>.)<br> + <br> + Reason and Knowledge only thou despise,<br> + The highest strength in man that lies!<br> + Let but the Lying Spirit bind thee<br> + With magic works and shows that blind thee,<br> + And I shall have thee fast and sure!—<br> + Fate such a bold, untrammelled spirit gave him,<br> + As forwards, onwards, ever must endure;<br> + Whose over-hasty impulse drave him<br> + Past earthly joys he might secure.<br> + Dragged through the wildest life, will I enslave him,<br> + Through flat and stale indifference;<br> + With struggling, chilling, checking, so deprave him<br> + That, to his hot, insatiate sense,<br> + The dream of drink shall mock, but never lave him:<br> + Refreshment shall his lips in vain implore—<br> + Had he not made himself the Devil’s, naught could save him,<br> + Still were he lost forevermore!<br> + <br> + (<i>A</i> STUDENT <i>enters</i>.)<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + A short time, only, am I here,<br> + And come, devoted and sincere,<br> + To greet and know the man of fame,<br> + Whom men to me with reverence name.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Your courtesy doth flatter me:<br> + You see a man, as others be.<br> + Have you, perchance, elsewhere begun?<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + Receive me now, I pray, as one<br> + Who comes to you with courage good,<br> + Somewhat of cash, and healthy blood:<br> + My mother was hardly willing to let me;<br> + But knowledge worth having I fain would get me.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Then you have reached the right place now.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + I’d like to leave it, I must avow;<br> + I find these walls, these vaulted spaces<br> + Are anything but pleasant places.<br> + Tis all so cramped and close and mean;<br> + One sees no tree, no glimpse of green,<br> + And when the lecture-halls receive me,<br> + Seeing, hearing, and thinking leave me.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + All that depends on habitude.<br> + So from its mother’s breasts a child<br> + At first, reluctant, takes its food,<br> + But soon to seek them is beguiled.<br> + Thus, at the breasts of Wisdom clinging,<br> + Thou’lt find each day a greater rapture bringing.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + I’ll hang thereon with joy, and freely drain them;<br> + But tell me, pray, the proper means to gain them.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Explain, before you further speak,<br> + The special faculty you seek.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + I crave the highest erudition;<br> + And fain would make my acquisition<br> + All that there is in Earth and Heaven,<br> + In Nature and in Science too.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Here is the genuine path for you;<br> + Yet strict attention must be given.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + Body and soul thereon I’ll wreak;<br> + Yet, truly, I’ve some inclination<br> + On summer holidays to seek<br> + A little freedom and recreation.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Use well your time! It flies so swiftly from us;<br> + But time through order may be won, I promise.<br> + So, Friend (my views to briefly sum),<br> + First, the <i>collegium logicum</i>.<br> + There will your mind be drilled and braced,<br> + As if in Spanish boots ’twere laced,<br> + And thus, to graver paces brought,<br> + ’Twill plod along the path of thought,<br> + Instead of shooting here and there,<br> + A will-o’-the-wisp in murky air.<br> + Days will be spent to bid you know,<br> + What once you did at a single blow,<br> + Like eating and drinking, free and strong,—<br> + That one, two, three! thereto belong.<br> + Truly the fabric of mental fleece<br> + Resembles a weaver’s masterpiece,<br> + Where a thousand threads one treadle throws,<br> + Where fly the shuttles hither and thither.<br> + Unseen the threads are knit together.<br> + And an infinite combination grows.<br> + Then, the philosopher steps in<br> + And shows, no otherwise it could have been:<br> + The first was so, the second so,<br> + Therefore the third and fourth are so;<br> + Were not the first and second, then<br> + The third and fourth had never been.<br> + The scholars are everywhere believers,<br> + But never succeed in being weavers.<br> + He who would study organic existence,<br> + First drives out the soul with rigid persistence;<br> + Then the parts in his hand he may hold and class,<br> + But the spiritual link is lost, alas!<br> + <i>Encheiresin natures</i>, this Chemistry names,<br> + Nor knows how herself she banters and blames!<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + I cannot understand you quite.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Your mind will shortly be set aright,<br> + When you have learned, all things reducing,<br> + To classify them for your using.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + I feel as stupid, from all you’ve said,<br> + As if a mill-wheel whirled in my head!<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + And after—first and foremost duty—Of<br> + Metaphysics learn the use and beauty!<br> + See that you most profoundly gain<br> + What does not suit the human brain!<br> + A splendid word to serve, you’ll find<br> + For what goes in—or won’t go in—your mind.<br> + But first, at least this half a year,<br> + To order rigidly adhere;<br> + Five hours a day, you understand,<br> + And when the clock strikes, be on hand!<br> + Prepare beforehand for your part<br> + With paragraphs all got by heart,<br> + So you can better watch, and look<br> + That naught is said but what is in the book:<br> + Yet in thy writing as unwearied be,<br> + As did the Holy Ghost dictate to thee!<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + No need to tell me twice to do it!<br> + I think, how useful ’tis to write;<br> + For what one has, in black and white,<br> + One carries home and then goes through it.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Yet choose thyself a faculty!<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + I cannot reconcile myself to Jurisprudence.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Nor can I therefore greatly blame you students:<br> + I know what science this has come to be.<br> + All rights and laws are still transmitted<br> + Like an eternal sickness of the race,—<br> + From generation unto generation fitted,<br> + And shifted round from place to place.<br> + Reason becomes a sham, Beneficence a worry:<br> + Thou art a grandchild, therefore woe to thee!<br> + The right born with us, ours in verity,<br> + This to consider, there’s, alas! no hurry.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + My own disgust is strengthened by your speech:<br> + O lucky he, whom you shall teach!<br> + I’ve almost for Theology decided.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + I should not wish to see you here misguided:<br> + For, as regards this science, let me hint<br> + ’Tis very hard to shun the false direction;<br> + There’s so much secret poison lurking in ’t,<br> + So like the medicine, it baffles your detection.<br> + Hear, therefore, one alone, for that is best, in sooth,<br> + And simply take your master’s words for truth.<br> + On <i>words</i> let your attention centre!<br> + Then through the safest gate you’ll enter<br> + The temple-halls of Certainty.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + Yet in the word must some idea be.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Of course! But only shun too over-sharp a tension,<br> + For just where fails the comprehension,<br> + A word steps promptly in as deputy.<br> + With words ’tis excellent disputing;<br> + Systems to words ’tis easy suiting;<br> + On words ’tis excellent believing;<br> + No word can ever lose a jot from thieving.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + Pardon! With many questions I detain you.<br> + Yet must I trouble you again.<br> + Of Medicine I still would fain<br> + Hear one strong word that might explain you.<br> + Three years is but a little space.<br> + And, God! who can the field embrace?<br> + If one some index could be shown,<br> + ’Twere easier groping forward, truly.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>aside</i>)<br> + <br> + I’m tired enough of this dry tone,—<br> + Must play the Devil again, and fully.<br> + <br> +</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + (<i>Aloud</i>)<br> + </div> + <p> + <br> + To grasp the spirit of Medicine is easy:<br> + Learn of the great and little world your fill,<br> + To let it go at last, so please ye,<br> + Just as God will!<br> + In vain that through the realms of science you may drift;<br> + Each one learns only—just what learn he can:<br> + Yet he who grasps the Moment’s gift,<br> + He is the proper man.<br> + Well-made you are, ’tis not to be denied,<br> + The rest a bold address will win you;<br> + If you but in yourself confide,<br> + At once confide all others in you.<br> + To lead the women, learn the special feeling!<br> + Their everlasting aches and groans,<br> + In thousand tones,<br> + Have all one source, one mode of healing;<br> + And if your acts are half discreet,<br> + You’ll always have them at your feet.<br> + A title first must draw and interest them,<br> + And show that yours all other arts exceeds;<br> + Then, as a greeting, you are free to touch and test them,<br> + While, thus to do, for years another pleads.<br> + You press and count the pulse’s dances,<br> + And then, with burning sidelong glances,<br> + You clasp the swelling hips, to see<br> + If tightly laced her corsets be.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + That’s better, now! The How and Where, one sees.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + My worthy friend, gray are all theories,<br> + And green alone Life’s golden tree.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + I swear to you, ’tis like a dream to me.<br> + Might I again presume, with trust unbounded,<br> + To hear your wisdom thoroughly expounded?<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Most willingly, to what extent I may.<br> + <br> + STUDENT<br> + <br> + I cannot really go away:<br> + Allow me that my album first I reach you,—<br> + Grant me this favor, I beseech you!<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Assuredly.<br> + <br> + (<i>He writes, and returns the book</i>.)<br> + <br> + STUDENT (<i>reads</i>)<br> + <br> +</p> + <div class="indented"> + <i>Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum</i>.<br> + </div> + <p> + (<i>Closes the book with reverence, and withdraws</i>)<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + Follow the ancient text, and the snake thou wast ordered to trample!<br> + With all thy likeness to God, thou’lt yet be a sorry example!<br> + <br> + (FAUST <i>enters</i>.)<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Now, whither shall we go?<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + As best it pleases thee.<br> + The little world, and then the great, we’ll see.<br> + With what delight, what profit winning,<br> + Shalt thou sponge through the term beginning!<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + Yet with the flowing beard I wear,<br> + Both ease and grace will fail me there.<br> + The attempt, indeed, were a futile strife;<br> + I never could learn the ways of life.<br> + I feel so small before others, and thence<br> + Should always find embarrassments.<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + My friend, thou soon shalt lose all such misgiving:<br> + Be thou but self-possessed, thou hast the art of living!<br> + <br> + FAUST<br> + <br> + How shall we leave the house, and start?<br> + Where hast thou servant, coach and horses?<br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <br> + We’ll spread this cloak with proper art,<br> + Then through the air direct our courses.<br> + But only, on so bold a flight,<br> + Be sure to have thy luggage light.<br> + A little burning air, which I shall soon prepare us,<br> + Above the earth will nimbly bear us,<br> + And, if we’re light, we’ll travel swift and clear:<br> + I gratulate thee on thy new career!<br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> + <br> +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-102.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="V"></a>V</h2></div> + <p> + <br> + <br> + AUERBACH’S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG<br> + <br> + <br> + CAROUSAL OF JOLLY COMPANIONS<br> + <br> + FROSCH<br> + <br> + Is no one laughing? no one drinking?<br> + I’ll teach you how to grin, I’m thinking.<br> + To-day you’re like wet straw, so tame;<br> + And usually you’re all aflame.<br> + <br> + BRANDER<br> + <br> + Now that’s your fault; from you we nothing see,<br> + No beastliness and no stupidity.<br> + <br> + FROSCH<br> + <br> + (<i>Pours a glass of wine over</i> BRANDER’S <i>head</i>.)<br> + There’s both together!<br> + <br> + BRANDER<br> + <br> + </p> + <div class="indenteds"> + Twice a swine!<br> + </div> + <p> + <br> + FROSCH<br> + <br> + You wanted them: I’ve given you mine.<br> + <br> + SIEBEL<br> + <br> + Turn out who quarrels—out the door!<br> + With open throat sing chorus, drink and roar!<br> + Up! holla! ho!<br> + <br> + ALTMAYER<br> + <br> + Woe’s me, the fearful bellow!<br> + Bring cotton, quick! He’s split my ears, that fellow.<br> + <br> + SIEBEL<br> + <br> + When the vault echoes to the song,<br> + One first perceives the bass is deep and strong.<br> + <br> + FROSCH<br> + <br> + Well said! and out with him that takes the least offence!<br> + </p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <i>Ah, tara, lara da</i>!<br> + </div> + <p> + <br> + ALTMAYER<br> + <br> + </p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <i>Ah, tara, lara, da</i>!<br> + </div> + <p> + <br> + FROSCH<br> + <br> + The throats are tuned, commence!<br> + <br> +</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + (<i>Sings</i>.)<br> + </div> + + <div class="indented"> + <i>The dear old holy Roman realm,<br> + How does it hold together</i>?<br> + </div> + <p> + <br> + BRANDER<br> + <br> + A nasty song! Fie! a political song—<br> + A most offensive song! Thank God, each morning, therefore,<br> + That you have not the Roman realm to care for!<br> + At least, I hold it so much gain for me,<br> + That I nor Chancellor nor Kaiser be.<br> + Yet also we must have a ruling head, I hope,<br> + And so we’ll choose ourselves a Pope.<br> + You know the quality that can<br> + Decide the choice, and elevate the man.<br> + <br> + FROSCH<br> + </p> + <div class="indentedss"> + (<i>sings</i>)<br> + <br> + </div> + <div class="indented"> + <i>Soar up, soar up, Dame Nightingale!</i><br> + Ten thousand times my sweetheart hail! + </div> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>No, greet my sweetheart not! I tell you, I’ll resent it.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>My sweetheart greet and kiss! I dare you to prevent it!</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>(<i>Sings</i>.)<br> + </p> + </div> + + <div class="indented"> + <p><i>Draw the latch! the darkness makes:</i><br> + Draw the latch! the lover wakes.<br> + Shut the latch! the morning breaks</p> + </div> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Yes, sing away, sing on, and praise, and brag of her!<br> + I’ll wait my proper time for laughter:<br> + Me by the nose she led, and now she’ll lead you after.<br> + Her paramour should be an ugly gnome,<br> + Where four roads cross, in wanton play to meet her:<br> + An old he-goat, from Blocksberg coming home,<br> + Should his good-night in lustful gallop bleat her!<br> + A fellow made of genuine flesh and blood<br> + Is for the wench a deal too good.<br> + Greet her? Not I: unless, when meeting,<br> + To smash her windows be a greeting!</p> + <p>BRANDER (<i>pounding on the table</i>)</p> + <p>Attention! Hearken now to me!<br> + Confess, Sirs, I know how to live.<br> + Enamored persons here have we,<br> + And I, as suits their quality,<br> + Must something fresh for their advantage give.<br> + Take heed! ’Tis of the latest cut, my strain,<br> + And all strike in at each refrain!</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">(<i>He sings</i>.)</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">There was a rat in the cellar-nest,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Whom fat and butter made smoother:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He had a paunch beneath his vest</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Like that of Doctor Luther.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The cook laid poison cunningly,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And then as sore oppressed was he</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As if he had love in his bosom.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">CHORUS (<i>shouting</i>)</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As if he had love in his bosom!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">BRANDER</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He ran around, he ran about,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">His thirst in puddles laving;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He gnawed and scratched the house + throughout.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">But nothing cured his raving.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He whirled and jumped, with torment + mad,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And soon enough the poor beast had,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As if he had love in his bosom.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">CHORUS</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As if he had love in his bosom!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">BRANDER</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And driven at last, in open day,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He ran into the kitchen,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Fell on the hearth, and squirming + lay,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In the last convulsion twitching.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Then laughed the murderess in her + glee:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">“Ha! ha! he’s at his last gasp,” said + she,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">“As if he had love in his bosom!”</span><br> + </p> + <p>CHORUS</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As if he had love in his bosom!</span><br> + </p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>How the dull fools enjoy the matter!<br> + To me it is a proper art<br> + Poison for such poor rats to scatter.</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>Perhaps you’ll warmly take their part?</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>The bald-pate pot-belly I have noted:<br> + Misfortune tames him by degrees;<br> + For in the rat by poison bloated<br> + His own most natural form he sees.</p> + <p>FAUST AND MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Before all else, I bring thee hither<br> + Where boon companions meet together,<br> + To let thee see how smooth life runs away.<br> + Here, for the folk, each day’s a holiday:<br> + With little wit, and ease to suit them,<br> + They whirl in narrow, circling trails,<br> + Like kittens playing with their tails?<br> + And if no headache persecute them,<br> + So long the host may credit give,<br> + They merrily and careless live.</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>The fact is easy to unravel,<br> + Their air’s so odd, they’ve just returned from travel:<br> + A single hour they’ve not been here.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>You’ve verily hit the truth! Leipzig to me is dear:<br> + Paris in miniature, how it refines its people!</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Who are the strangers, should you guess?</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Let me alone! I’ll set them first to drinking,<br> + And then, as one a child’s tooth draws, with cleverness,<br> + I’ll worm their secret out, I’m thinking.<br> + They’re of a noble house, that’s very clear:<br> + Haughty and discontented they appear.</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>They’re mountebanks, upon a revel.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Perhaps.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>Look out, I’ll smoke them now!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>Not if he had them by the neck, I vow,<br> + Would e’er these people scent the Devil!</p> + <p>FAUST Fair greeting, gentlemen!</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Our thanks: we give the same.<br> + </p> + </div> + <div class="indented"> + (<i>Murmurs, inspecting</i> MEPHISTOPHELES <i>from the side</i>.)<br> + </div> + <p> + In one foot is the fellow lame?<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Is it permitted that we share your leisure?<br> + In place of cheering drink, which one seeks vainly here,<br> + Your company shall give us pleasure.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>A most fastidious person you appear.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>No doubt ’twas late when you from Rippach started?<br> + And supping there with Hans occasioned your delay?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>We passed, without a call, to-day.<br> + At our last interview, before we parted<br> + Much of his cousins did he speak, entreating<br> + That we should give to each his kindly greeting.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>(<i>He bows to</i> FROSCH.)</p> + </div> + <p>ALTMAYER (<i>aside</i>)</p> + <p>You have it now! he understands.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>A knave sharp-set!</p> + </div> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Just wait awhile: I’ll have him yet.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>If I am right, we heard the sound<br> + Of well-trained voices, singing chorus;<br> + And truly, song must here rebound<br> + Superbly from the arches o’er us.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Are you, perhaps, a virtuoso?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>O no! my wish is great, my power is only so-so.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Give us a song!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>If you desire, a number.</p> + </div> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>So that it be a bran-new strain!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>We’ve just retraced our way from. Spain,<br> + The lovely land of wine, and song, and slumber.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>(<i>Sings</i>.)</p> + </div> + <p>There was a king once reigning,<br> + Who had a big black flea—</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Hear, hear! A flea! D’ye rightly take the jest?<br> + I call a flea a tidy guest.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>sings</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">There was a king once reigning,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Who had a big black flea,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And loved him past explaining,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As his own son were he.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He called his man of stitches;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The tailor came straightway:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Here, measure the lad for breeches.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And measure his coat, I say!</span><br> + </p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>But mind, allow the tailor no caprices:<br> + Enjoin upon him, as his head is dear,<br> + To most exactly measure, sew and shear,<br> + So that the breeches have no creases!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In silk and velvet gleaming</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He now was wholly drest—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Had a coat with ribbons streaming,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A cross upon his breast.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He had the first of stations,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A minister’s star and name;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And also all his relations</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Great lords at court became.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the lords and ladies of honor</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Were plagued, awake and in bed;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The queen she got them upon her,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The maids were bitten and bled.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And they did not dare to brush them,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Or scratch them, day or night:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We crack them and we crush them,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">At once, whene’er they bite.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">CHORUS (<i>shouting</i>)</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We crack them and we crush them,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">At once, whene’er they bite!</span><br> + </p> + <p>FROSCH Bravo! bravo! that was fine.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Every flea may it so befall!</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>Point your fingers and nip them all!</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Hurrah for Freedom! Hurrah for wine!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I fain would drink with you, my glass to Freedom clinking,<br> + If ’twere a better wine that here I see you drinking.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Don’t let us hear that speech again!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Did I not fear the landlord might complain,<br> + I’d treat these worthy guests, with pleasure,<br> + To some from out our cellar’s treasure.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Just treat, and let the landlord me arraign!</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>And if the wine be good, our praises shall be ample.<br> + But do not give too very small a sample;<br> + For, if its quality I decide,<br> + With a good mouthful I must be supplied.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER (<i>aside</i>)</p> + <p>They’re from the Rhine! I guessed as much, before.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Bring me a gimlet here!</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>What shall therewith be done?<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>You’ve not the casks already at the door?<br> + <br></p> + + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Yonder, within the landlord’s box of tools, there’s one!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>takes the gimlet</i>)</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>(<i>To</i> FROSCH.)</p> + </div> + <p>Now, give me of your taste some intimation.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>How do you mean? Have you so many kinds?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The choice is free: make up your minds.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER (<i>to</i> FROSCH)</p> + <p>Aha! you lick your chops, from sheer anticipation.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Good! if I have the choice, so let the wine be Rhenish!<br> + Our Fatherland can best the sparkling cup replenish.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>(<i>boring a hole in the edge of the table, at the place where</i><br> + FROSCH <i>sits</i>)</p> + <p>Get me a little wax, to make the stoppers, quick!</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Ah! I perceive a juggler’s trick.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> BRANDER)</p> + <p>And you?</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>Champagne shall be my wine,<br> + And let it sparkle fresh and fine!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>(<i>bores: in the meantime one has made the wax stoppers, and<br> + plugged the holes with them</i>.)</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>What’s foreign one can’t always keep quite clear of,<br> + For good things, oft, are not so near;<br> + A German can’t endure the French to see or hear of,<br> + Yet drinks their wines with hearty cheer.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>(<i>as</i> MEPHISTOPHELES <i>approaches his seat</i>)<br> + For me, I grant, sour wine is out of place;<br> + Fill up my glass with sweetest, will you?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>boring</i>)</p> + <p>Tokay shall flow at once, to fill you!</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>No—look me, Sirs, straight in the face!<br> + I see you have your fun at our expense.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>O no! with gentlemen of such pretence,<br> + That were to venture far, indeed.<br> + Speak out, and make your choice with speed! With what a vintage can I serve you?</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>With any—only satisfy our need.</p> + <p>(<i>After the holes have been bored and plugged</i>)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>with singular gestures</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Grapes the vine-stem bears,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Horns the he-goat wears!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The grapes are juicy, the vines are + wood,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The wooden table gives wine as good!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Into the depths of Nature + peer,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Only believe there’s a miracle here!</span><br> + </p> + <p>Now draw the stoppers, and drink your fill!</p> + <p>ALL</p> + <p>(<i>as they draw out the stoppers, and the wine which has been<br> + desired flows into the glass of each)</i></p> + <p>O beautiful fountain, that flows at will!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But have a care that you nothing spill!</p> + <p>(<i>They drink repeatedly</i>.)</p> + <p>ALL (<i>sing</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As ’twere five hundred hogs, we + feel</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">So cannibalic jolly!</span><br> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>See, now, the race is happy—it is free!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>To leave them is my inclination.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Take notice, first! their bestiality<br> + Will make a brilliant demonstration.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>(<i>drinks carelessly: the wine spills upon the earth, and turns to<br> + flame</i>)</p> + <p>Help! Fire! Help! Hell-fire is sent!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>charming away the flame)</i></p> + <p>Be quiet, friendly element!</p> + <p>(<i>To the revellers</i>)</p> + <p>A bit of purgatory ’twas for this time, merely.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>What mean you? Wait!—you’ll pay for’t dearly!<br> + You’ll know us, to your detriment.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Don’t try that game a second time upon us!</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>I think we’d better send him packing quietly.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>What, Sir! you dare to make so free,<br> + And play your hocus-pocus on us!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Be still, old wine-tub.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Broomstick, you!<br> + You face it out, impertinent and heady?</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>Just wait! a shower of blows is ready.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>(<i>draws a stopper out of the table: fire flies in his face</i>.)<br> + I burn! I burn!</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>’Tis magic! Strike—<br> + The knave is outlawed! Cut him as you like!<br> + (<i>They draw their knives, and rush upon</i> MEPHISTOPHELES.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>with solemn gestures</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">False word and form of air,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Change place, and sense ensnare!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Be here—and there!</span><br> + </p> + <p>(<i>They stand amazed and look at each other</i>.)</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Where am I? What a lovely land!</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Vines? Can I trust my eyes?</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>And purple grapes at hand!</p> + </div> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>Here, over this green arbor bending,<br> + See what a vine! what grapes depending!</p> + <p>(<i>He takes</i> SIEBEL <i>by the nose: the others do the same reciprocally,<br> + and raise their knives</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>as above</i>)</p> + <p>Loose, Error, from their eyes the band,<br> + And how the Devil jests, be now enlightened!</p> + <p>(<i>He disappears with</i> FAUST: <i>the revellers start and separate</i>.)</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>What happened?</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>How?</p> + </div> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Was that your nose I tightened?</p> + </div> + <p>BRANDER (<i>to</i> SIEBEL)</p> + <p>And yours that still I have in hand?</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>It was a blow that went through every limb!<br> + Give me a chair! I sink! my senses swim.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>But what has happened, tell me now?</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Where is he? If I catch the scoundrel hiding,<br> + He shall not leave alive, I vow.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>I saw him with these eyes upon a wine-cask riding<br> + Out of the cellar-door, just now.<br> + Still in my feet the fright like lead is weighing.<br> + </p> + <div class="indenteds"> + (<i>He turns towards the table</i>.)<br> + </div> + <p> + <br> + Why! If the fount of wine should still be playing?<br> + <br></p> + + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>’Twas all deceit, and lying, false design!</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>And yet it seemed as I were drinking wine.</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>But with the grapes how was it, pray?</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Shall one believe no miracles, just say!</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-117.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-118.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="VI"></a>VI</h2></div> + <p>WITCHES’ KITCHEN</p> + <p>(<i>Upon a low hearth stands a great caldron, under which a fire<br> + is burning. Various figures appear in the vapors which<br> + rise from the caldron. An ape sits beside it, skims it, and<br> + watches lest it boil over. The he-ape, with the young<br> + ones, sits near and warms himself. Ceiling and walls are<br> + covered with the most fantastic witch-implements</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>These crazy signs of witches’ craft repel me!<br> + I shall recover, dost thou tell me,<br> + Through this insane, chaotic play?<br> + From an old hag shall I demand assistance?<br> + And will her foul mess take away<br> + Full thirty years from my existence?<br> + Woe’s me, canst thou naught better find!<br> + Another baffled hope must be lamented:<br> + Has Nature, then, and has a noble mind<br> + Not any potent balsam yet invented?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Once more, my friend, thou talkest sensibly.<br> + There is, to make thee young, a simpler mode and apter;<br> + But in another book ’tis writ for thee,<br> + And is a most eccentric chapter.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Yet will I know it.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Good! the method is revealed<br> + Without or gold or magic or physician.<br> + Betake thyself to yonder field,<br> + There hoe and dig, as thy condition;<br> + Restrain thyself, thy sense and will<br> + Within a narrow sphere to flourish;<br> + With unmixed food thy body nourish;<br> + Live with the ox as ox, and think it not a theft<br> + That thou manur’st the acre which thou reapest;—<br> + That, trust me, is the best mode left,<br> + Whereby for eighty years thy youth thou keepest!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I am not used to that; I cannot stoop to try it—<br> + To take the spade in hand, and ply it.<br> + The narrow being suits me not at all.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Then to thine aid the witch must call.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Wherefore the hag, and her alone?<br> + Canst thou thyself not brew the potion?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>That were a charming sport, I own:<br> + I’d build a thousand bridges meanwhile, I’ve a notion.<br> + Not Art and Science serve, alone;<br> + Patience must in the work be shown.<br> + Long is the calm brain active in creation;<br> + Time, only, strengthens the fine fermentation.<br> + And all, belonging thereunto,<br> + Is rare and strange, howe’er you take it:<br> + The Devil taught the thing, ’tis true,<br> + And yet the Devil cannot make it.<br> + (<i>Perceiving the Animals</i>)<br> + See, what a delicate race they be!<br> + That is the maid! the man is he!<br> + (<i>To the Animals</i>)<br> + It seems the mistress has gone away?</p> + <p>THE ANIMALS</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Carousing, to-day!<br> + Off and about,<br> + By the chimney out!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>What time takes she for dissipating?</p> + <p>THE ANIMALS</p> + <p>While we to warm our paws are waiting.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>How findest thou the tender creatures?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Absurder than I ever yet did see.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Why, just such talk as this, for me,<br> + Is that which has the most attractive features!</p> + <p>(<i>To the Animals</i>)</p> + <p>But tell me now, ye cursed puppets,<br> + Why do ye stir the porridge so?</p> + <p>THE ANIMALS</p> + <p>We’re cooking watery soup for beggars.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Then a great public you can show.</p> + <p>THE HE-APE</p> + <p>(<i>comes up and fawns on</i> MEPHISTOPHELES)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">O cast thou the dice!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Make me rich in a trice,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Let me win in good season!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Things are badly controlled,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And had I but gold,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">So had I my reason.</span><br> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>How would the ape be sure his luck enhances.<br> + Could he but try the lottery’s chances!</p> + <p>(<i>In the meantime the young apes have been playing with a<br> + large ball, which they now roll forward</i>.)</p> + <p>THE HE-APE</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The world’s the ball:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Doth rise and fall,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And roll incessant:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Like glass doth ring,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A hollow thing,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">How soon will’t spring,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And drop, quiescent?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Here bright it gleams,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Here brighter seems:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I live at present!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Dear son, I say,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Keep thou away!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Thy doom is spoken!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">’Tis made of clay,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And will be broken.</span><br> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>What means the sieve?</p> + <p>THE HE-APE (<i>taking it down</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Wert thou the thief,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I’d know him and shame him.</span><br> + <br> + (<i>He runs to the</i> SHE-APE, <i>and lets her look through it</i>.)<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Look through the sieve!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Know’st thou the thief,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And darest not name him?</span><br> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>approaching the fire)</i></p> + <p>And what’s this pot?</p> + <p>HE-APE AND SHE-APE</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The fool knows it not!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He knows not the pot,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He knows not the kettle!</span><br> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Impertinent beast!</p> + <p>THE HE-APE</p> + <p>Take the brush here, at least,<br> + And sit down on the settle!</p> + <p>(<i>He invites</i> MEPHISTOPHELES <i>to sit down</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>(<i>who during all this time has been standing before a mirror,<br> + now approaching and now retreating from it</i>)</p> + <p>What do I see? What heavenly form revealed<br> + Shows through the glass from Magic’s fair dominions!<br> + O lend me, Love, the swiftest of thy pinions,<br> + And bear me to her beauteous field!<br> + Ah, if I leave this spot with fond designing,<br> + If I attempt to venture near,<br> + Dim, as through gathering mist, her charms appear!—<br> + A woman’s form, in beauty shining!<br> + Can woman, then, so lovely be?<br> + And must I find her body, there reclining,<br> + Of all the heavens the bright epitome?<br> + Can Earth with such a thing be mated?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Why, surely, if a God first plagues Himself six days,<br> + Then, self-contented, <i>Bravo</i>! says,<br> + Must something clever be created.<br> + This time, thine eyes be satiate!<br> + I’ll yet detect thy sweetheart and ensnare her,<br> + And blest is he, who has the lucky fate,<br> + Some day, as bridegroom, home to bear her.</p> + <p>(FAUST <i>gazes continually in the mirror</i>. MEPHISTOPHELES,<br> + <i>stretching himself out on the settle, and playing with the<br> + brush, continues to speak</i>.)</p> + <p>So sit I, like the King upon his throne:<br> + I hold the sceptre, here,—and lack the crown alone.</p> + <p>THE ANIMALS</p> + <p>(<i>who up to this time have been making all kinds of fantastic<br> + movements together bring a crown to</i> MEPHISTOPHELES<br> + <i>with great noise</i>.)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">O be thou so good</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">With sweat and with blood</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The crown to belime!</span><br> + </p> + <p>(<i>They handle the crown awkwardly and break it into two<br> + pieces, with which they spring around</i>.)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">’Tis done, let it be!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We speak and we see,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We hear and we rhyme!</span><br> + </p> + <p>FAUST (<i>before the mirror</i>)</p> + <p>Woe’s me! I fear to lose my wits.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>pointing to the Animals</i>)</p> + <p>My own head, now, is really nigh to sinking.</p> + <p>THE ANIMALS</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">If lucky our hits,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And everything fits,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">’Tis thoughts, and we’re thinking!</span><br> + </p> + <p>FAUST (<i>as above</i>)</p> + <p>My bosom burns with that sweet vision;<br> + Let us, with speed, away from here!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>in the same attitude</i>)</p> + <p>One must, at least, make this admission—<br> + They’re poets, genuine and sincere.</p> + <p>(<i>The caldron, which the</i> SHE-APE <i>has up to this time neglected<br> + to watch, begins to boil over: there ensues a great flame</i>,<br> + <i>which blazes out the chimney. The</i> WITCH <i>comes careering<br> + down through the flame, with terrible cries</i>.)</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Ow! ow! ow! ow!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The damnéd beast—the curséd + sow!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To leave the kettle, and singe the + Frau!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Accurséd fere!</span><br> + </p> + <p>(<i>Perceiving</i> FAUST <i>and</i> MEPHISTOPHELES.)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">What is that here?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Who are you here?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">What want you thus?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Who sneaks to us?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The fire-pain</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Burn bone and brain!</span><br> + </p> + <p>(<i>She plunges the skimming-ladle into the caldron, and scatters<br> + flames towards</i> FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, <i>and the Animals.<br> + The Animals whimper</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>(<i>reversing the brush, which he has been holding in his hand,<br> + and striding among the jars and glasses</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 5em;">In two! in two!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">There lies the brew!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">There lies the glass!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">The joke will pass,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">As time, foul ass!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">To the singing of thy crew.</span><br> + </p> + <p>(<i>As the</i> WITCH <i>starts back, full of wrath and horror</i>)</p> + <p>Ha! know’st thou me? Abomination, thou!<br> + Know’st thou, at last, thy Lord and Master?<br> + What hinders me from smiting now<br> + Thee and thy monkey-sprites with fell disaster?<br> + Hast for the scarlet coat no reverence?<br> + Dost recognize no more the tall cock’s-feather?<br> + Have I concealed this countenance?—<br> + Must tell my name, old face of leather?</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>O pardon, Sir, the rough salute!<br> + Yet I perceive no cloven foot;<br> + And both your ravens, where are <i>they</i> now?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>This time, I’ll let thee ’scape the debt;<br> + For since we two together met,<br> + ’Tis verily full many a day now.<br> + Culture, which smooth the whole world licks,<br> + Also unto the Devil sticks.<br> + The days of that old Northern phantom now are over:<br> + Where canst thou horns and tail and claws discover?<br> + And, as regards the foot, which I can’t spare, in truth,<br> + ’Twould only make the people shun me;<br> + Therefore I’ve worn, like many a spindly youth,<br> + False calves these many years upon me.</p> + <p>THE WITCH (<i>dancing</i>)</p> + <p>Reason and sense forsake my brain,<br> + Since I behold Squire Satan here again!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Woman, from such a name refrain!</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>Why so? What has it done to thee?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>It’s long been written in the Book of Fable;<br> + Yet, therefore, no whit better men we see:<br> + The Evil One has left, the evil ones are stable.<br> + Sir Baron call me thou, then is the matter good;<br> + A cavalier am I, like others in my bearing.<br> + Thou hast no doubt about my noble blood:<br> + See, here’s the coat-of-arms that I am wearing!</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>(<i>He makes an indecent gesture</i>.)</p> + </div> + <p>THE WITCH (<i>laughs immoderately</i>)</p> + <p>Ha! ha! That’s just your way, I know:<br> + A rogue you are, and you were always so.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>My friend, take proper heed, I pray!<br> + To manage witches, this is just the way.</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>Wherein, Sirs, can I be of use?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Give us a goblet of the well-known juice!<br> + But, I must beg you, of the oldest brewage;<br> + The years a double strength produce.</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>With all my heart! Now, here’s a bottle,<br> + Wherefrom, sometimes, I wet my throttle,<br> + Which, also, not the slightest, stinks;<br> + And willingly a glass I’ll fill him.</p> + <p>(<i>Whispering</i>)</p> + <p>Yet, if this man without due preparation drinks,<br> + As well thou know’st, within an hour ’twill kill him.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>He is a friend of mine, with whom it will agree,<br> + And he deserves thy kitchen’s best potation:<br> + Come, draw thy circle, speak thine adjuration,<br> + And fill thy goblet full and free!</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>(<i>with fantastic gestures draws a circle and places mysterious<br> + articles therein; meanwhile the glasses begin to ring, the<br> + caldron to sound, and make a musical accompaniment.<br> + Finally she brings a great book, and stations in the circle<br> + the Apes, who are obliged to serve as reading-desk, and to<br> + hold the torches. She then beckons</i> FAUST <i>to approach</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>to</i> MEPHISTOPHELES)</p> + <p>Now, what shall come of this? the creatures antic,<br> + The crazy stuff, the gestures frantic,—<br> + All the repulsive cheats I view,—<br> + Are known to me, and hated, too.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>O, nonsense! That’s a thing for laughter;<br> + Don’t be so terribly severe!<br> + She juggles you as doctor now, that, after,<br> + The beverage may work the proper cheer.</p> + <p>(<i>He persuades</i> FAUST <i>to step into the circle</i>.)</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>(<i>begins to declaim, with much emphasis, from the book</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">See, thus it’s done!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Make ten of one,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And two let be,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Make even three,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And rich thou ’It be.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Cast o’er the four!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">From five and six</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">(The witch’s tricks)</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Make seven and eight,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">’Tis finished straight!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And nine is one,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And ten is none.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">This is the witch’s once-one’s-one!</span><br> + </p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>She talks like one who raves in fever.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Thou’lt hear much more before we leave her.<br> + ’Tis all the same: the book I can repeat,<br> + Such time I’ve squandered o’er the history:<br> + A contradiction thus complete<br> + Is always for the wise, no less than fools, a mystery.<br> + The art is old and new, for verily<br> + All ages have been taught the matter,—<br> + By Three and One, and One and Three,<br> + Error instead of Truth to scatter.<br> + They prate and teach, and no one interferes;<br> + All from the fellowship of fools are shrinking.<br> + Man usually believes, if only words he hears,<br> + That also with them goes material for thinking!</p> + <p>THE WITCH (<i>continues</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The lofty skill</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Of Science, still</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">From all men deeply hidden!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Who takes no thought,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To him ’tis brought,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">’Tis given unsought, unbidden!</span><br> + </p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What nonsense she declaims before us!<br> + My head is nigh to split, I fear:<br> + It seems to me as if I hear<br> + A hundred thousand fools in chorus.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>O Sibyl excellent, enough of adjuration!<br> + But hither bring us thy potation,<br> + And quickly fill the beaker to the brim!<br> + This drink will bring my friend no injuries:<br> + He is a man of manifold degrees,<br> + And many draughts are known to him.</p> + <p>(<i>The</i> WITCH, <i>with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a<br> + cup; as</i> FAUST <i>sets it to his lips, a light flame arises</i>.)</p> + <p>Down with it quickly! Drain it off!<br> + ’Twill warm thy heart with new desire:<br> + Art with the Devil hand and glove,<br> + And wilt thou be afraid of fire?</p> + <p>(<i>The</i> WITCH <i>breaks the circle</i>: FAUST <i>steps forth</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And now, away! Thou dar’st not rest.</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>And much good may the liquor do thee!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to the</i> WITCH)</p> + <p>Thy wish be on Walpurgis Night expressed;<br> + What boon I have, shall then be given unto thee.</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>Here is a song, which, if you sometimes sing,<br> + You’ll find it of peculiar operation.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>Come, walk at once! A rapid occupation<br> + Must start the needful perspiration,<br> + And through thy frame the liquor’s potence fling.<br> + The noble indolence I’ll teach thee then to treasure,<br> + And soon thou’lt be aware, with keenest thrills of pleasure,<br> + How Cupid stirs and leaps, on light and restless wing.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>One rapid glance within the mirror give me,<br> + How beautiful that woman-form!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>No, no! The paragon of all, believe me,<br> + Thou soon shalt see, alive and warm.</p> + <p><i>(Aside)</i></p> + <p>Thou’lt find, this drink thy blood compelling,<br> + Each woman beautiful as Helen!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-131.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-132.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="VII"></a>VII</h2></div> + <p>STREET</p> + <p>FAUST MARGARET <i>(passing by)</i></p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Fair lady, let it not offend you,<br> + That arm and escort I would lend you!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I’m neither lady, neither fair,<br> + And home I can go without your care.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>She releases herself, and exit</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>By Heaven, the girl is wondrous fair!<br> + Of all I’ve seen, beyond compare;<br> + So sweetly virtuous and pure,<br> + And yet a little pert, be sure!<br> + The lip so red, the cheek’s clear dawn,</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-133.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <p>I’ll not forget while the world rolls on!<br> + How she cast down her timid eyes,<br> + Deep in my heart imprinted lies:<br> + How short and sharp of speech was she,<br> + Why, ’twas a real ecstasy!</p> + <p>(MEPHISTOPHELES <i>enters</i>)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Hear, of that girl I’d have possession!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Which, then?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>The one who just went by.</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>She, there? She’s coming from confession,<br> + Of every sin absolved; for I,<br> + Behind her chair, was listening nigh.<br> + So innocent is she, indeed,<br> + That to confess she had no need.<br> + I have no power o’er souls so green.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And yet, she’s older than fourteen.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>How now! You’re talking like Jack Rake,<br> + Who every flower for himself would take,<br> + And fancies there are no favors more,<br> + Nor honors, save for him in store;<br> + Yet always doesn’t the thing succeed.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Most Worthy Pedagogue, take heed!<br> + Let not a word of moral law be spoken!<br> + I claim, I tell thee, all my right;<br> + And if that image of delight<br> + Rest not within mine arms to-night,<br> + At midnight is our compact broken.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But think, the chances of the case!<br> + I need, at least, a fortnight’s space,<br> + To find an opportune occasion.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Had I but seven hours for all,<br> + I should not on the Devil call,<br> + But win her by my own persuasion.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>You almost like a Frenchman prate;<br> + Yet, pray, don’t take it as annoyance!<br> + Why, all at once, exhaust the joyance?<br> + Your bliss is by no means so great<br> + As if you’d use, to get control,<br> + All sorts of tender rigmarole,<br> + And knead and shape her to your thought,<br> + As in Italian tales ’tis taught.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Without that, I have appetite.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But now, leave jesting out of sight!<br> + I tell you, once for all, that speed<br> + With this fair girl will not succeed;<br> + By storm she cannot captured be;<br> + We must make use of strategy.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Get me something the angel keeps!<br> + Lead me thither where she sleeps!<br> + Get me a kerchief from her breast,—<br> + A garter that her knee has pressed!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>That you may see how much I’d fain<br> + Further and satisfy your pain,<br> + We will no longer lose a minute;<br> + I’ll find her room to-day, and take you in it.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And shall I see—possess her?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>No!<br> + </p> + </div> + <p> + Unto a neighbor she must go,<br> + And meanwhile thou, alone, mayst glow<br> + With every hope of future pleasure,<br> + Breathing her atmosphere in fullest measure.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Can we go thither?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>’Tis too early yet.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>A gift for her I bid thee get!<br> + </p> + <div class="indentedss"> + [<i>Exit</i>.<br> + <br> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Presents at once? That’s good: he’s certain to get at her!<br> + Full many a pleasant place I know,<br> + And treasures, buried long ago:<br> + I must, perforce, look up the matter. <i>[Exit</i>.</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-138.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2></div> + <p>EVENING A SMALL, NEATLY KEPT CHAMBER</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>(<i>plaiting and binding up the braids of her hair</i>)</p> + <p>I’d something give, could I but say<br> + Who was that gentleman, to-day.<br> + Surely a gallant man was he,<br> + And of a noble family;<br> + And much could I in his face behold,—<br> + And he wouldn’t, else, have been so bold!</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 15em;">[<i>Exit</i></span><br></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES FAUST</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Come in, but gently: follow me!</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>after a moment’s silence</i>)</p> + <p>Leave me alone, I beg of thee!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>prying about</i>)</p> + <p>Not every girl keeps things so neat.</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>looking around</i>)</p> + <p>O welcome, twilight soft and sweet,<br> + That breathes throughout this hallowed shrine!<br> + Sweet pain of love, bind thou with fetters fleet<br> + The heart that on the dew of hope must pine!<br> + How all around a sense impresses<br> + Of quiet, order, and content!<br> + This poverty what bounty blesses!<br> + What bliss within this narrow den is pent!</p> + <p>(<i>He throws himself into a leathern arm-chair near the bed</i>.)</p> + <p>Receive me, thou, that in thine open arms<br> + Departed joy and pain wert wont to gather!<br> + How oft the children, with their ruddy charms,<br> + Hung here, around this throne, where sat the father!<br> + Perchance my love, amid the childish band,<br> + Grateful for gifts the Holy Christmas gave her,<br> + Here meekly kissed the grandsire’s withered hand.<br> + I feel, O maid! thy very soul<br> + Of order and content around me whisper,—<br> + Which leads thee with its motherly control,<br> + The cloth upon thy board bids smoothly thee unroll,<br> + The sand beneath thy feet makes whiter, crisper.<br> + O dearest hand, to thee ’tis given<br> + To change this hut into a lower heaven!<br> + And here!</p> + <p>(<i>He lifts one of the bed-curtains</i>.)</p> + <p>What sweetest thrill is in my blood!<br> + Here could I spend whole hours, delaying:<br> + Here Nature shaped, as if in sportive playing,<br> + The angel blossom from the bud.<br> + Here lay the child, with Life’s warm essence<br> + The tender bosom filled and fair,<br> + And here was wrought, through holier, purer presence,<br> + The form diviner beings wear!</p> + <p>And I? What drew me here with power?<br> + How deeply am I moved, this hour!<br> + What seek I? Why so full my heart, and sore?<br> + Miserable Faust! I know thee now no more.</p> + <p>Is there a magic vapor here?<br> + I came, with lust of instant pleasure,<br> + And lie dissolved in dreams of love’s sweet leisure!<br> + Are we the sport of every changeful atmosphere?</p> + <p>And if, this moment, came she in to me,<br> + How would I for the fault atonement render!<br> + How small the giant lout would be,<br> + Prone at her feet, relaxed and tender!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Be quick! I see her there, returning.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Go! go! I never will retreat.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Here is a casket, not unmeet,<br> + Which elsewhere I have just been earning.<br> + Here, set it in the press, with haste!<br> + I swear, ’twill turn her head, to spy it:<br> + Some baubles I therein had placed,<br> + That you might win another by it.<br> + True, child is child, and play is play.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I know not, should I do it?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Ask you, pray?</p> + </div> + <p> + Yourself, perhaps, would keep the bubble?<br> + Then I suggest, ’twere fair and just<br> + To spare the lovely day your lust,<br> + And spare to me the further trouble.<br> + You are not miserly, I trust?<br> + I rub my hands, in expectation tender—<br> + <br></p> + + <p>(<i>He places the casket in the press, and locks it again</i>.)</p> + <p>Now quick, away!<br> + The sweet young maiden to betray,<br> + So that by wish and will you bend her;<br> + And you look as though<br> + To the lecture-hall you were forced to go,—<br> + As if stood before you, gray and loath,<br> + Physics and Metaphysics both!<br> + But away!</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + [<i>Exeunt</i>.<br> + <br> + </div> + <p>MARGARET (<i>with a lamp</i>)</p> + <p>It is so close, so sultry, here!</p> + <p>(<i>She opens the window</i>)</p> + <p>And yet ’tis not so warm outside.<br> + I feel, I know not why, such fear!—<br> + Would mother came!—where can she bide?<br> + My body’s chill and shuddering,—<br> + I’m but a silly, fearsome thing!</p> + <p>(<i>She begins to sing while undressing</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">There was a King in Thule,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Was faithful till the grave,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">To whom his mistress, dying,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">A golden goblet gave.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Naught was to him more precious;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">He drained it at every bout:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">His eyes with tears ran over,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">As oft as he drank thereout.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">When came his time of dying,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The towns in his land he told,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Naught else to his heir denying</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Except the goblet of gold.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">He sat at the royal banquet</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">With his knights of high degree,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">In the lofty hall of his fathers</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">In the Castle by the Sea.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">There stood the old carouser,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And drank the last life-glow;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And hurled the hallowed goblet</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Into the tide below.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">He saw it plunging and filling,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And sinking deep in the sea:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Then fell his eyelids forever,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And never more drank he!</span><br> + </p> + <p>(<i>She opens the press in order to arrange her clothes, and perceives<br> + the casket of jewels</i>.)</p> + <p>How comes that lovely casket here to me?<br> + I locked the press, most certainly.<br> + ’Tis truly wonderful! What can within it be?<br> + Perhaps ’twas brought by some one as a pawn,<br> + And mother gave a loan thereon?<br> + And here there hangs a key to fit:<br> + I have a mind to open it.<br> + What is that? God in Heaven! Whence came<br> + Such things? Never beheld I aught so fair!<br> + Rich ornaments, such as a noble dame<br> + On highest holidays might wear!<br> + How would the pearl-chain suit my hair?<br> + Ah, who may all this splendor own?</p> + <p>(<i>She adorns herself with the jewelry, and steps before the<br> + mirror</i>.)</p> + <p>Were but the ear-rings mine, alone!<br> + One has at once another air.<br> + What helps one’s beauty, youthful blood?<br> + One may possess them, well and good;<br> + But none the more do others care.<br> + They praise us half in pity, sure:<br> + To gold still tends,<br> + On gold depends<br> + All, all! Alas, we poor!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-143.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-144.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="IX"></a>IX</h2></div> + <p>PROMENADE</p> + <p>(FAUST, <i>walking thoughtfully up and down. To him</i> MEPHISTOPHELES.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>By all love ever rejected! By hell-fire hot and unsparing!<br> + I wish I knew something worse, that I might use it for<br> + swearing!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What ails thee? What is’t gripes thee, elf?<br> + A face like thine beheld I never.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I would myself unto the Devil deliver,<br> + If I were not a Devil myself!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thy head is out of order, sadly:<br> + It much becomes thee to be raving madly.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Just think, the pocket of a priest should get<br> + The trinkets left for Margaret!<br> + The mother saw them, and, instanter,<br> + A secret dread began to haunt her.<br> + Keen scent has she for tainted air;<br> + She snuffs within her book of prayer,<br> + And smells each article, to see<br> + If sacred or profane it be;<br> + So here she guessed, from every gem,<br> + That not much blessing came with them.<br> + “My child,” she said, “ill-gotten good<br> + Ensnares the soul, consumes the blood.<br> + Before the Mother of God we’ll lay it;<br> + With heavenly manna she’ll repay it!”<br> + But Margaret thought, with sour grimace,<br> + “A gift-horse is not out of place,<br> + And, truly! godless cannot be<br> + The one who brought such things to me.”<br> + A parson came, by the mother bidden:<br> + He saw, at once, where the game was hidden,<br> + And viewed it with a favor stealthy.<br> + He spake: “That is the proper view,—<br> + Who overcometh, winneth too.<br> + The Holy Church has a stomach healthy:<br> + Hath eaten many a land as forfeit,<br> + And never yet complained of surfeit:<br> + The Church alone, beyond all question,<br> + Has for ill-gotten goods the right digestion.”</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>A general practice is the same,<br> + Which Jew and King may also claim.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Then bagged the spangles, chains, and rings,<br> + As if but toadstools were the things,<br> + And thanked no less, and thanked no more<br> + Than if a sack of nuts he bore,—<br> + Promised them fullest heavenly pay,<br> + And deeply edified were they.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And Margaret?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Sits unrestful still,<br> + And knows not what she should, or will;<br> + Thinks on the jewels, day and night,<br> + But more on him who gave her such delight.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The darling’s sorrow gives me pain.<br> + Get thou a set for her again!<br> + The first was not a great display.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>O yes, the gentleman finds it all child’s-play!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Fix and arrange it to my will;<br> + And on her neighbor try thy skill!<br> + Don’t be a Devil stiff as paste,<br> + But get fresh jewels to her taste!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yes, gracious Sir, in all obedience!</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>Exit</i> FAUST.</p> + </div> + <p>Such an enamored fool in air would blow<br> + Sun, moon, and all the starry legions,<br> + To give his sweetheart a diverting show.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>Exit</i>.</p> + </div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-147.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="X"></a>X</h2></div> + <p>THE NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>solus</i>)</p> + <p>God forgive my husband, yet he<br> + Hasn’t done his duty by me!<br> + Off in the world he went straightway,—<br> + Left me lie in the straw where I lay.<br> + And, truly, I did naught to fret him:<br> + God knows I loved, and can’t forget him!</p> + <p>(<i>She weeps</i>.)</p> + <p>Perhaps he’s even dead! Ah, woe!—<br> + Had I a certificate to show!</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>comes</i>)</p> + <p>Dame Martha!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Margaret! what’s happened thee?</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I scarce can stand, my knees are trembling!<br> + I find a box, the first resembling,<br> + Within my press! Of ebony,—<br> + And things, all splendid to behold,<br> + And richer far than were the old.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>You mustn’t tell it to your mother!<br> + ’Twould go to the priest, as did the other.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Ah, look and see—just look and see!</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>adorning her</i>)</p> + <p>O, what a blessed luck for thee!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>But, ah! in the streets I dare not bear them,<br> + Nor in the church be seen to wear them.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Yet thou canst often this way wander,<br> + And secretly the jewels don,<br> + Walk up and down an hour, before the mirror yonder,—<br> + We’ll have our private joy thereon.<br> + And then a chance will come, a holiday,<br> + When, piece by piece, can one the things abroad display,<br> + A chain at first, then other ornament:<br> + Thy mother will not see, and stories we’ll invent.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Whoever could have brought me things so precious?<br> + That something’s wrong, I feel suspicious.</p> + <p>(<i>A knock</i>)</p> + <p>Good Heaven! My mother can that have been?</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>peeping through the blind</i>)</p> + <p>’Tis some strange gentleman.—Come in!</p> + <p>(MEPHISTOPHELES <i>enters</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>That I so boldly introduce me,<br> + I beg you, ladies, to excuse me.</p> + <p>(<i>Steps back reverently, on seeing</i> MARGARET.)</p> + <p>For Martha Schwerdtlein I’d inquire!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>I’m she: what does the gentleman desire?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>aside to her</i>)</p> + <p>It is enough that you are she:<br> + You’ve a visitor of high degree.<br> + Pardon the freedom I have ta’en,—<br> + Will after noon return again.</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>aloud</i>)</p> + <p>Of all things in the world! Just hear—<br> + He takes thee for a lady, dear!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I am a creature young and poor:<br> + The gentleman’s too kind, I’m sure.<br> + The jewels don’t belong to me.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Ah, not alone the jewelry!<br> + The look, the manner, both betray—<br> + Rejoiced am I that I may stay!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>What is your business? I would fain—</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I would I had a more cheerful strain!<br> + Take not unkindly its repeating:<br> + Your husband’s dead, and sends a greeting.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Is dead? Alas, that heart so true!<br> + My husband dead! Let me die, too!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Ah, dearest dame, let not your courage fail!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Hear me relate the mournful tale!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Therefore I’d never love, believe me!<br> + A loss like this to death would grieve me.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Joy follows woe, woe after joy comes flying.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Relate his life’s sad close to me!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>In Padua buried, he is lying<br> + Beside the good Saint Antony,<br> + Within a grave well consecrated,<br> + For cool, eternal rest created.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>He gave you, further, no commission?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yes, one of weight, with many sighs:<br> + Three hundred masses buy, to save him from perdition!<br> + My hands are empty, otherwise.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>What! Not a pocket-piece? no jewelry?<br> + What every journeyman within his wallet spares,<br> + And as a token with him bears,<br> + And rather starves or begs, than loses?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Madam, it is a grief to me;<br> + Yet, on my word, his cash was put to proper uses.<br> + Besides, his penitence was very sore,<br> + And he lamented his ill fortune all the more.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Alack, that men are so unfortunate!<br> + Surely for his soul’s sake full many a prayer I’ll proffer.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>You well deserve a speedy marriage-offer:<br> + You are so kind, compassionate.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>O, no! As yet, it would not do.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>If not a husband, then a beau for you!<br> + It is the greatest heavenly blessing,<br> + To have a dear thing for one’s caressing.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>The country’s custom is not so.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Custom, or not! It happens, though.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Continue, pray!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I stood beside his bed of dying.<br> + ’Twas something better than manure,—<br> + Half-rotten straw: and yet, he died a Christian, sure,<br> + And found that heavier scores to his account were lying.<br> + He cried: “I find my conduct wholly hateful!<br> + To leave my wife, my trade, in manner so ungrateful!<br> + Ah, the remembrance makes me die!<br> + Would of my wrong to her I might be shriven!”</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>weeping</i>)</p> + <p>The dear, good man! Long since was he forgiven.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>“Yet she, God knows! was more to blame than I.”</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>He lied! What! On the brink of death he slandered?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>In the last throes his senses wandered,<br> + If I such things but half can judge.<br> + He said: “I had no time for play, for gaping freedom:<br> + First children, and then work for bread to feed ’em,—<br> + For bread, in the widest sense, to drudge,<br> + And could not even eat my share in peace and quiet!”</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Had he all love, all faith forgotten in his riot?<br> + My work and worry, day and night?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Not so: the memory of it touched him quite.<br> + Said he: “When I from Malta went away<br> + My prayers for wife and little ones were zealous,<br> + And such a luck from Heaven befell us,<br> + We made a Turkish merchantman our prey,<br> + That to the Soldan bore a mighty treasure.<br> + Then I received, as was most fit,<br> + Since bravery was paid in fullest measure,<br> + My well-apportioned share of it.”</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Say, how? Say, where? If buried, did he own it?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Who knows, now, whither the four winds have blown it?<br> + A fair young damsel took him in her care,<br> + As he in Naples wandered round, unfriended;<br> + And she much love, much faith to him did bear,<br> + So that he felt it till his days were ended.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>The villain! From his children thieving!<br> + Even all the misery on him cast<br> + Could not prevent his shameful way of living!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But see! He’s dead therefrom, at last.<br> + Were I in <i>your</i> place, do not doubt me,<br> + I’d mourn him decently a year,<br> + And for another keep, meanwhile, my eyes about me.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Ah, God! another one so dear<br> + As was my first, this world will hardly give me.<br> + There never was a sweeter fool than mine,<br> + Only he loved to roam and leave me,<br> + And foreign wenches and foreign wine,<br> + And the damned throw of dice, indeed.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Well, well! That might have done, however,<br> + If he had only been as clever,<br> + And treated <i>your</i> slips with as little heed.<br> + I swear, with this condition, too,<br> + I would, myself, change rings with you.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>The gentleman is pleased to jest.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I’ll cut away, betimes, from here:<br> + She’d take the Devil at his word, I fear.</p> + <p>(<i>To</i> MARGARET)</p> + <p>How fares the heart within your breast?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>What means the gentleman?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>aside</i>)</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Sweet innocent, thou art!</p> + </div> + <p>(<i>Aloud</i>.)</p> + <p>Ladies, farewell!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Farewell!</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>A moment, ere we part!<br> + </p> + </div> + <p> + I’d like to have a legal witness,<br> + Where, how, and when he died, to certify his fitness.<br> + Irregular ways I’ve always hated;<br> + I want his death in the weekly paper stated.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yes, my good dame, a pair of witnesses<br> + Always the truth establishes.<br> + I have a friend of high condition,<br> + Who’ll also add his deposition.<br> + I’ll bring him here.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Good Sir, pray do!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And this young lady will be present, too?<br> + A gallant youth! has travelled far:<br> + Ladies with him delighted are.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Before him I should blush, ashamed.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Before no king that could be named!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Behind the house, in my garden, then,<br> + This eve we’ll expect the gentlemen.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-155.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-156.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XI"></a>XI</h2></div> + <p>A STREET</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>How is it? under way? and soon complete?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Ah, bravo! Do I find you burning?<br> + Well, Margaret soon will still your yearning:<br> + At Neighbor Martha’s you’ll this evening meet.<br> + A fitter woman ne’er was made<br> + To ply the pimp and gypsy trade!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Tis well.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>Yet something is required from us.</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>One service pays the other thus.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>We’ve but to make a deposition valid<br> + That now her husband’s limbs, outstretched and pallid,<br> + At Padua rest, in consecrated soil.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Most wise! And first, of course, we’ll make the journey<br> + thither?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p><i>Sancta simplicitas</i>! no need of such a toil;<br> + Depose, with knowledge or without it, either!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>If you’ve naught better, then, I’ll tear your pretty plan!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Now, there you are! O holy man!<br> + Is it the first time in your life you’re driven<br> + To bear false witness in a case?<br> + Of God, the world and all that in it has a place,<br> + Of Man, and all that moves the being of his race,<br> + Have you not terms and definitions given<br> + With brazen forehead, daring breast?<br> + And, if you’ll probe the thing profoundly,<br> + Knew you so much—and you’ll confess it roundly!—<br> + As here of Schwerdtlein’s death and place of rest?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou art, and thou remain’st, a sophist, liar.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yes, knew I not more deeply thy desire.<br> + For wilt thou not, no lover fairer,<br> + Poor Margaret flatter, and ensnare her,<br> + And all thy soul’s devotion swear her?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And from my heart.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>’Tis very fine!<br> + </p> + </div> + <p> + Thine endless love, thy faith assuring,<br> + The one almighty force enduring,—<br> + Will that, too, prompt this heart of thine?<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Hold! hold! It will!—If such my flame,<br> + And for the sense and power intense<br> + I seek, and cannot find, a name;<br> + Then range with all my senses through creation,<br> + Craving the speech of inspiration,<br> + And call this ardor, so supernal,<br> + Endless, eternal and eternal,—<br> + Is that a devilish lying game?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And yet I’m right!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Mark this, I beg of thee!<br> + </p> + </div> + <p> + And spare my lungs henceforth: whoever<br> + Intends to have the right, if but his<br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">tongue be clever,</span><br> + Will have it, certainly.<br> + But come: the further talking brings<br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">disgust,</span><br> + For thou art right, especially since I<br> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">must.</span><br> + <br> + <br> +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-158.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-159.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XII"></a>XII</h2></div> + <p>GARDEN</p> + <p>(MARGARET <i>on</i> FAUST’S <i>arm</i>. MARTHA <i>and</i> MEPHISTOPHELES + <i>walking up and down</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I feel, the gentleman allows for me,<br> + Demeans himself, and shames me by it;<br> + A traveller is so used to be<br> + Kindly content with any diet.<br> + I know too well that my poor gossip can<br> + Ne’er entertain such an experienced man.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>A look from thee, a word, more entertains<br> + Than all the lore of wisest brains.</p> + <p>(<i>He kisses her hand</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Don’t incommode yourself! How could you ever kiss it!<br> + It is so ugly, rough to see!<br> + What work I do,—how hard and steady is it!<br> + Mother is much too close with me.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>They pass</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>And you, Sir, travel always, do you not?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Alas, that trade and duty us so harry!<br> + With what a pang one leaves so many a spot,<br> + And dares not even now and then to tarry!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>In young, wild years it suits your ways,<br> + This round and round the world in freedom sweeping;<br> + But then come on the evil days,<br> + And so, as bachelor, into his grave a-creeping,<br> + None ever found a thing to praise.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I dread to see how such a fate advances.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Then, worthy Sir, improve betimes your chances!</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>They pass</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Yes, out of sight is out of mind!<br> + Your courtesy an easy grace is;<br> + But you have friends in other places,<br> + And sensibler than I, you’ll find.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Trust me, dear heart! what men call sensible<br> + Is oft mere vanity and narrowness.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>How so?</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Ah, that simplicity and innocence ne’er know<br> + Themselves, their holy value, and their spell!<br> + That meekness, lowliness, the highest graces<br> + Which Nature portions out so lovingly—</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>So you but think a moment’s space on me,<br> + All times I’ll have to think on you, all places!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>No doubt you’re much alone?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Yes, for our household small has grown,<br> + Yet must be cared for, you will own.<br> + We have no maid: I do the knitting, sewing, sweeping,<br> + The cooking, early work and late, in fact;<br> + And mother, in her notions of housekeeping,<br> + Is so exact!<br> + Not that she needs so much to keep expenses down:<br> + We, more than others, might take comfort, rather:<br> + A nice estate was left us by my father,<br> + A house, a little garden near the town.<br> + But now my days have less of noise and hurry;<br> + My brother is a soldier,<br> + My little sister’s dead.<br> + True, with the child a troubled life I led,<br> + Yet I would take again, and willing, all the worry,<br> + So very dear was she.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>An angel, if like thee!</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I brought it up, and it was fond of me.<br> + Father had died before it saw the light,<br> + And mother’s case seemed hopeless quite,<br> + So weak and miserable she lay;<br> + And she recovered, then, so slowly, day by day.<br> + She could not think, herself, of giving<br> + The poor wee thing its natural living;<br> + And so I nursed it all alone<br> + With milk and water: ’twas my own.<br> + Lulled in my lap with many a song,<br> + It smiled, and tumbled, and grew strong.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The purest bliss was surely then thy dower.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>But surely, also, many a weary hour.<br> + I kept the baby’s cradle near<br> + My bed at night: if ’t even stirred, I’d guess it,<br> + And waking, hear.<br> + And I must nurse it, warm beside me press it,<br> + And oft, to quiet it, my bed forsake,<br> + And dandling back and forth the restless creature take,<br> + Then at the wash-tub stand, at morning’s break;<br> + And then the marketing and kitchen-tending,<br> + Day after day, the same thing, never-ending.<br> + One’s spirits, Sir, are thus not always good,<br> + But then one learns to relish rest and food.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>They pass</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Yes, the poor women are bad off, ’tis true:<br> + A stubborn bachelor there’s no converting.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>It but depends upon the like of you,<br> + And I should turn to better ways than flirting.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Speak plainly, Sir, have you no one detected?<br> + Has not your heart been anywhere subjected?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The proverb says: One’s own warm hearth<br> + And a good wife, are gold and jewels worth.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>I mean, have you not felt desire, though ne’er so slightly?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I’ve everywhere, in fact, been entertained politely.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>I meant to say, were you not touched in earnest, ever?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>One should allow one’s self to jest with ladies never.</p> + <p>MARTHA Ah, you don’t understand!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I’m sorry I’m so blind: But I am sure—that you are very kind.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>They pass</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And me, thou angel! didst thou recognize,<br> + As through the garden-gate I came?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Did you not see it? I cast down my eyes.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And thou forgiv’st my freedom, and the blame<br> + To my impertinence befitting,<br> + As the Cathedral thou wert quitting?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I was confused, the like ne’er happened me;<br> + No one could ever speak to my discredit.<br> + Ah, thought I, in my conduct has he read it—<br> + Something immodest or unseemly free?<br> + He seemed to have the sudden feeling<br> + That with this wench ’twere very easy dealing.<br> + I will confess, I knew not what appeal<br> + On your behalf, here, in my bosom grew;<br> + But I was angry with myself, to feel<br> + That I could not be angrier with you.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Sweet darling!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Wait a while!</p> + </div> + <p>(<i>She plucks a star-flower, and pulls off the leaves, one after<br> + the other</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Shall that a nosegay be?</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>No, it is just in play.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>How?</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Go! you’ll laugh at me.<br> + </p> + </div> + <p> + (<i>She pulls off the leaves and murmurs</i>.)<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What murmurest thou?</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>half aloud</i>)</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>He loves me—loves me not.</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou sweet, angelic soul!</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>continues</i>)</p> + <p>Loves me—not—loves me—not—<br> + (<i>plucking the last leaf, she cries with frank delight</i>:)</p> + <p>He loves me!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Yes, child! and let this blossom-word<br> + For thee be speech divine! He loves thee!<br> + Ah, know’st thou what it means? He loves thee!</p> + <p>(<i>He grasps both her hands</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I’m all a-tremble!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>O tremble not! but let this look,<br> + Let this warm clasp of hands declare thee<br> + What is unspeakable!<br> + To yield one wholly, and to feel a rapture<br> + In yielding, that must be eternal!<br> + Eternal!—for the end would be despair.<br> + No, no,—no ending! no ending!</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>coming forward</i>)</p> + <p>The night is falling.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Ay! we must away.</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>I’d ask you, longer here to tarry,<br> + But evil tongues in this town have full play.<br> + It’s as if nobody had nothing to fetch and carry,<br> + Nor other labor,<br> + But spying all the doings of one’s neighbor:<br> + And one becomes the talk, do whatsoe’er one may.<br> + Where is our couple now?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Flown up the alley yonder,<br> + </p> + </div> + <p> + The wilful summer-birds!<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MARTHA</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>He seems of her still fonder.</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And she of him. So runs the world away!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-166.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-167.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XIII"></a>XIII</h2></div> + <p>A GARDEN-ARBOR</p> + <p>(MARGARET <i>comes in, conceals herself behind the door, puts her<br> + finger to her lips, and peeps through the crack</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>He comes!</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>entering</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 9em;">Ah, rogue! a tease thou art:</span><br> + I have thee! (<i>He kisses her</i>.)<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>(<i>clasping him, and returning the kiss</i>)<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Dearest man! I love thee from my heart.</span><br></p> + + <p>(MEPHISTOPHELES <i>knocks</i>)</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>stamping his foot</i>)</p> + <p>Who’s there?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>A friend!</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>A beast!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Tis time to separate.</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA (<i>coming</i>)</p> + <p>Yes, Sir, ’tis late.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>May I not, then, upon you wait?</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>My mother would—farewell!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Ah, can I not remain?<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>Farewell!<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MARTHA</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>Adieu!</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>And soon to meet again!</p> + </div> + <div class="indented"> + <p>[<i>Exeunt</i> FAUST <i>and</i> MEPHISTOPHELES.</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Dear God! However is it, such<br> + A man can think and know so much?<br> + I stand ashamed and in amaze,<br> + And answer “Yes” to all he says,<br> + A poor, unknowing child! and he—<br> + I can’t think what he finds in me! [<i>Exit</i>.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-169.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XIV"></a>XIV</h2></div> + <p>FOREST AND CAVERN</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>solus</i>)</p> + <p>Spirit sublime, thou gav’st me, gav’st me all<br> + For which I prayed. Not unto me in vain<br> + Hast thou thy countenance revealed in fire.<br> + Thou gav’st me Nature as a kingdom grand,<br> + With power to feel and to enjoy it. Thou<br> + Not only cold, amazed acquaintance yield’st,<br> + But grantest, that in her profoundest breast<br> + I gaze, as in the bosom of a friend.<br> + The ranks of living creatures thou dost lead<br> + Before me, teaching me to know my brothers<br> + In air and water and the silent wood.<br> + And when the storm in forests roars and grinds,<br> + The giant firs, in falling, neighbor boughs<br> + And neighbor trunks with crushing weight bear down,<br> + And falling, fill the hills with hollow thunders,—<br> + Then to the cave secure thou leadest me,<br> + Then show’st me mine own self, and in my breast<br> + The deep, mysterious miracles unfold.<br> + And when the perfect moon before my gaze<br> + Comes up with soothing light, around me float<br> + From every precipice and thicket damp<br> + The silvery phantoms of the ages past,<br> + And temper the austere delight of thought.</p> + <p>That nothing can be perfect unto Man<br> + I now am conscious. With this ecstasy,<br> + Which brings me near and nearer to the Gods,<br> + Thou gav’st the comrade, whom I now no more<br> + Can do without, though, cold and scornful, he<br> + Demeans me to myself, and with a breath,<br> + A word, transforms thy gifts to nothingness.<br> + Within my breast he fans a lawless fire,<br> + Unwearied, for that fair and lovely form:<br> + Thus in desire I hasten to enjoyment,<br> + And in enjoyment pine to feel desire.</p> + <p>(MEPHISTOPHELES <i>enters</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Have you not led this life quite long enough?<br> + How can a further test delight you?<br> + ’Tis very well, that once one tries the stuff,<br> + But something new must then requite you.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Would there were other work for thee!<br> + To plague my day auspicious thou returnest.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Well! I’ll engage to let thee be:<br> + Thou darest not tell me so in earnest.<br> + The loss of thee were truly very slight,—<br> + comrade crazy, rude, repelling:</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-171.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <p>One has one’s hands full all the day and night;<br> + If what one does, or leaves undone, is right,<br> + From such a face as thine there is no telling.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + + <p>There is, again, thy proper tone!—<br> + That thou hast bored me, I must thankful be!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Poor Son of Earth, how couldst thou thus alone<br> + Have led thy life, bereft of me?<br> + I, for a time, at least, have worked thy cure;<br> + Thy fancy’s rickets plague thee not at all:<br> + Had I not been, so hadst thou, sure,<br> + Walked thyself off this earthly ball<br> + Why here to caverns, rocky hollows slinking,<br> + Sit’st thou, as ’twere an owl a-blinking?<br> + Why suck’st, from sodden moss and dripping stone,<br> + Toad-like, thy nourishment alone?<br> + A fine way, this, thy time to fill!<br> + The Doctor’s in thy body still.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What fresh and vital forces, canst thou guess,<br> + Spring from my commerce with the wilderness?<br> + But, if thou hadst the power of guessing,<br> + Thou wouldst be devil enough to grudge my soul the blessing.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>A blessing drawn from supernatural fountains!<br> + In night and dew to lie upon the mountains;<br> + All Heaven and Earth in rapture penetrating;<br> + Thyself to Godhood haughtily inflating;<br> + To grub with yearning force through Earth’s dark marrow,<br> + Compress the six days’ work within thy bosom narrow,—<br> + To taste, I know not what, in haughty power,<br> + Thine own ecstatic life on all things shower,<br> + Thine earthly self behind thee cast,<br> + And then the lofty instinct, thus—</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>(<i>With a gesture</i>:)</p> + </div> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>at last,—</p> + </div> +<p> I daren’t say how—to pluck the final flower!<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Shame on thee!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yes, thou findest that unpleasant!<br> + Thou hast the moral right to cry me “shame!” at present.<br> + One dares not that before chaste ears declare,<br> + Which chaste hearts, notwithstanding, cannot spare;<br> + And, once for all, I grudge thee not the pleasure<br> + Of lying to thyself in moderate measure.<br> + But such a course thou wilt not long endure;<br> + Already art thou o’er-excited,<br> + And, if it last, wilt soon be plighted<br> + To madness and to horror, sure.<br> + Enough of that! Thy love sits lonely yonder,<br> + By all things saddened and oppressed;<br> + Her thoughts and yearnings seek thee, tenderer, fonder,—<br> + mighty love is in her breast.<br> + First came thy passion’s flood and poured around her<br> + As when from melted snow a streamlet overflows;<br> + Thou hast therewith so filled and drowned her,<br> + That now <i>thy</i> stream all shallow shows.<br> + Methinks, instead of in the forests lording,<br> + The noble Sir should find it good,<br> + The love of this young silly blood<br> + At once to set about rewarding.<br> + Her time is miserably long;<br> + She haunts her window, watching clouds that stray<br> + O’er the old city-wall, and far away.<br> + “Were I a little bird!” so runs her song,<br> + Day long, and half night long.<br> + Now she is lively, mostly sad,<br> + Now, wept beyond her tears;<br> + Then again quiet she appears,—Always<br> + love-mad.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Serpent! Serpent!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES <i>(aside)</i></p> + <p>Ha! do I trap thee!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Get thee away with thine offences,<br> + Reprobate! Name not that fairest thing,<br> + Nor the desire for her sweet body bring<br> + Again before my half-distracted senses!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>What wouldst thou, then? She thinks that thou art flown;<br> + And half and half thou art, I own.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Yet am I near, and love keeps watch and ward;<br> + Though I were ne’er so far, it cannot falter:<br> + I envy even the Body of the Lord<br> + The touching of her lips, before the altar.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>’Tis very well! <i>My</i> envy oft reposes<br> + On your twin-pair, that feed among the roses.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Away, thou pimp!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>You rail, and it is fun to me.<br> + The God, who fashioned youth and maid,<br> + Perceived the noblest purpose of His trade,<br> + And also made their opportunity.<br> + Go on! It is a woe profound!<br> + ’Tis for your sweetheart’s room you’re bound,<br> + And not for death, indeed.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What are, within her arms, the heavenly blisses?<br> + Though I be glowing with her kisses,<br> + Do I not always share her need?<br> + I am the fugitive, all houseless roaming,<br> + The monster without air or rest,<br> + That like a cataract, down rocks and gorges foaming,<br> + Leaps, maddened, into the abyss’s breast!<br> + And side-wards she, with young unwakened senses,<br> + Within her cabin on the Alpine field<br> + Her simple, homely life commences,<br> + Her little world therein concealed.<br> + And I, God’s hate flung o’er me,<br> + Had not enough, to thrust<br> + The stubborn rocks before me<br> + And strike them into dust!<br> + She and her peace I yet must undermine:<br> + Thou, Hell, hast claimed this sacrifice as thine!<br> + Help, Devil! through the coming pangs to push me;<br> + What must be, let it quickly be!<br> + Let fall on me her fate, and also crush me,—<br> + One ruin whelm both her and me!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Again it seethes, again it glows!<br> + Thou fool, go in and comfort her!<br> + When such a head as thine no outlet knows,<br> + It thinks the end must soon occur.<br> + Hail him, who keeps a steadfast mind!<br> + Thou, else, dost well the devil-nature wear:<br> + Naught so insipid in the world I find<br> + As is a devil in despair.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-177.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-178.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XV"></a>XV</h2></div> + <p>MARGARET’S ROOM</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>(<i>at the spinning-wheel, alone</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">My peace is gone,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My heart is sore:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I never shall find it,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, nevermore!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Save I have him near.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The grave is here;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The world is gall</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And bitterness all.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My poor weak head</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Is racked and crazed;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My thought is lost,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My senses mazed.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My peace is gone,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My heart is sore:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I never shall find it,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, nevermore!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">To see him, him only,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">At the pane I sit;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">To meet him, him only,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The house I quit.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">His lofty gait,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">His noble size,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The smile of his mouth,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The power of his eyes,</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And the magic flow</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Of his talk, the bliss</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">In the clasp of his hand,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And, ah! his kiss!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My peace is gone,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My heart is sore:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I never shall find it,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, nevermore!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My bosom yearns</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">For him alone;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, dared I clasp him,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And hold, and own!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And kiss his mouth,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">To heart’s desire,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And on his kisses</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">At last expire!</span><br> + </p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-180.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XVI"></a>XVI</h2></div> + <p>MARTHA’S GARDEN</p> + <p>MARGARET FAUST</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Promise me, Henry!—</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>What I can!</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>How is’t with thy religion, pray?<br> + Thou art a dear, good-hearted man,<br> + And yet, I think, dost not incline that way.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Leave that, my child! Thou know’st my love is tender;<br> + For love, my blood and life would I surrender,<br> + And as for Faith and Church, I grant to each his own.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>That’s not enough: we must believe thereon.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Must we?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>Would that I had some influence!</p> + </div> + <p>Then, too, thou honorest not the Holy Sacraments.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I honor them.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Desiring no possession<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>’Tis long since thou hast been to mass or to confession.<br> + Believest thou in God?<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>My darling, who shall dare<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>“I believe in God!” to say?<br> + Ask priest or sage the answer to declare,<br> + And it will seem a mocking play,<br> + A sarcasm on the asker.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Then thou believest not!</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Hear me not falsely, sweetest countenance!<br> + Who dare express Him?<br> + And who profess Him,<br> + Saying: I believe in Him!<br> + Who, feeling, seeing,<br> + Deny His being,<br> + Saying: I believe Him not!<br> + The All-enfolding,<br> + The All-upholding,<br> + Folds and upholds he not<br> + Thee, me, Himself?<br> + Arches not there the sky above us?<br> + Lies not beneath us, firm, the earth?<br> + And rise not, on us shining,<br> + Friendly, the everlasting stars?<br> + Look I not, eye to eye, on thee,<br> + And feel’st not, thronging<br> + To head and heart, the force,<br> + Still weaving its eternal secret,<br> + Invisible, visible, round thy life?<br> + Vast as it is, fill with that force thy heart,<br> + And when thou in the feeling wholly blessed art,<br> + Call it, then, what thou wilt,—<br> + Call it Bliss! Heart! Love! God!<br> + I have no name to give it!<br> + Feeling is all in all:<br> + The Name is sound and smoke,<br> + Obscuring Heaven’s clear glow.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>All that is fine and good, to hear it so:<br> + Much the same way the preacher spoke,<br> + Only with slightly different phrases.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The same thing, in all places,<br> + All hearts that beat beneath the heavenly day—<br> + Each in its language—say;<br> + Then why not I, in mine, as well?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>To hear it thus, it may seem passable;<br> + And yet, some hitch in’t there must be<br> + For thou hast no Christianity.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Dear love!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I’ve long been grieved to see<br> + That thou art in such company.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>How so?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>The man who with thee goes, thy mate,<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>Within my deepest, inmost soul I hate.<br> + In all my life there’s nothing<br> + Has given my heart so keen a pang of loathing,<br> + As his repulsive face has done.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Nay, fear him not, my sweetest one!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I feel his presence like something ill.<br> + I’ve else, for all, a kindly will,<br> + But, much as my heart to see thee yearneth,<br> + The secret horror of him returneth;<br> + And I think the man a knave, as I live!<br> + If I do him wrong, may God forgive!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>There must be such queer birds, however.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Live with the like of him, may I never!<br> + When once inside the door comes he,<br> + He looks around so sneeringly,<br> + And half in wrath:<br> + One sees that in nothing no interest he hath:<br> + ’Tis written on his very forehead<br> + That love, to him, is a thing abhorréd.<br> + I am so happy on thine arm,<br> + So free, so yielding, and so warm,<br> + And in his presence stifled seems my heart.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Foreboding angel that thou art!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>It overcomes me in such degree,<br> + That wheresoe’er he meets us, even,<br> + I feel as though I’d lost my love for thee.<br> + When he is by, I could not pray to Heaven.<br> + That burns within me like a flame,<br> + And surely, Henry, ’tis with thee the same.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>There, now, is thine antipathy!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>But I must go.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Ah, shall there never be<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>A quiet hour, to see us fondly plighted,<br> + With breast to breast, and soul to soul united?<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Ah, if I only slept alone!<br> + I’d draw the bolts to-night, for thy desire;<br> + But mother’s sleep so light has grown,<br> + And if we were discovered by her,<br> + ’Twould be my death upon the spot!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou angel, fear it not!<br> + Here is a phial: in her drink<br> + But three drops of it measure,<br> + And deepest sleep will on her senses sink.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>What would I not, to give thee pleasure?<br> + It will not harm her, when one tries it?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>If ’twould, my love, would I advise it?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Ah, dearest man, if but thy face I see,<br> + I know not what compels me to thy will:<br> + So much have I already done for thee,<br> + That scarcely more is left me to fulfil.</p> + <p>(<i>Enter</i> MEPHISTOPHELES.) [<i>Exit</i>.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The monkey! Is she gone?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Hast played the spy again?</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I’ve heard, most fully, how she drew thee.<br> + The Doctor has been catechised, ’tis plain;<br> + Great good, I hope, the thing will do thee.<br> + The girls have much desire to ascertain<br> + If one is prim and good, as ancient rules compel:<br> + If there he’s led, they think, he’ll follow them as well.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou, monster, wilt nor see nor own<br> + How this pure soul, of faith so lowly,<br> + So loving and ineffable,—<br> + The faith alone<br> + That her salvation is,—with scruples holy<br> + Pines, lest she hold as lost the man she loves so well!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Thou, full of sensual, super-sensual desire,<br> + A girl by the nose is leading thee.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Abortion, thou, of filth and fire!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And then, how masterly she reads physiognomy!<br> + When I am present she’s impressed, she knows not how;<br> + She in my mask a hidden sense would read:<br> + She feels that surely I’m a genius now,—<br> + Perhaps the very Devil, indeed!<br> + Well, well,—to-night—?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>What’s that to thee?</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yet my delight ’twill also be!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-186.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-187.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XVII"></a>XVII</h2></div> + <p>AT THE FOUNTAIN</p> + <p>MARGARET <i>and</i> LISBETH <i>With pitchers</i>.</p> + <p>LISBETH</p> + <p>Hast nothing heard of Barbara?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>No, not a word. I go so little out.</p> + <p>LISBETH</p> + <p>It’s true, Sibylla said, to-day.<br> + She’s played the fool at last, there’s not a doubt.<br> + Such taking-on of airs!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>How so?<br> + </p> + </div> + + <p>LISBETH</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>It stinks!<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>She’s feeding two, whene’er she eats and drinks.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Ah!</p> + <p>LISBETH</p> + <p> And so, at last, it serves her rightly.<br> + She clung to the fellow so long and tightly!<br> + That was a promenading!<br> + At village and dance parading!<br> + As the first they must everywhere shine,<br> + And he treated her always to pies and wine,<br> + And she made a to-do with her face so fine;<br> + So mean and shameless was her behavior,<br> + She took all the presents the fellow gave her.<br> + ’Twas kissing and coddling, on and on!<br> + So now, at the end, the flower is gone.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>The poor, poor thing!</p> + <p>LISBETH</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Dost pity her, at that?<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>When one of us at spinning sat,<br> + And mother, nights, ne’er let us out the door<br> + She sported with her paramour.<br> + On the door-bench, in the passage dark,<br> + The length of the time they’d never mark.<br> + So now her head no more she’ll lift,<br> + But do church-penance in her sinner’s shift!<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>He’ll surely take her for his wife.</p> + <p>LISBETH</p> + <p>He’d be a fool! A brisk young blade<br> + Has room, elsewhere, to ply his trade.<br> + Besides, he’s gone.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>That is not fair!<br> + </p> + </div> + + <p>LISBETH</p> + <p>If him she gets, why let her beware!<br> + The boys shall dash her wreath on the floor,<br> + And we’ll scatter chaff before her door!<br> + </p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>Exit</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET (<i>returning home</i>)</p> + <p>How scornfully I once reviled,<br> + When some poor maiden was beguiled!<br> + More speech than any tongue suffices<br> + I craved, to censure others’ vices.<br> + Black as it seemed, I blackened still,<br> + And blacker yet was in my will;<br> + And blessed myself, and boasted high,—<br> + And now—a living sin am I!<br> + Yet—all that drove my heart thereto,<br> + God! was so good, so dear, so true!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-189.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-190.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2></div> + <p>DONJON</p> + <p>(<i>In a niche of the wall a shrine, with an image of the Mater<br> + Dolorosa. Pots of flowers before it</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>(<i>putting fresh flowers in the pots</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Incline, O Maiden,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thou sorrow-laden,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thy gracious countenance upon my pain!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The sword Thy heart in,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">With anguish smarting,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thou lookest up to where Thy Son is + slain!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thou seest the Father;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thy sad sighs gather,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And bear aloft Thy sorrow and His pain!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, past guessing,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Beyond expressing,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The pangs that wring my flesh and bone!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Why this anxious heart so burneth,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Why it trembleth, why it yearneth,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Knowest Thou, and Thou alone!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Where’er I go, what sorrow,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">What woe, what woe and sorrow</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Within my bosom aches!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Alone, and ah! unsleeping,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I’m weeping, weeping, weeping,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The heart within me breaks.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The pots before my window,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Alas! my tears did wet,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">As in the early morning</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">For thee these flowers I set.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Within my lonely chamber</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The morning sun shone red:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I sat, in utter sorrow,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Already on my bed.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Help! rescue me from death and stain!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">O Maiden!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thou sorrow-laden,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Incline Thy countenance upon my pain!</span><br> + </p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-191.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-192.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XIX"></a>XIX</h2></div> + <p>NIGHT</p> + <p>STREET BEFORE MARGARET’S DOOR</p> + <p>VALENTINE (<i>a soldier</i>, MARGARET’S <i>brother</i>)</p> + <p>When I have sat at some carouse.<br> + Where each to each his brag allows,<br> + And many a comrade praised to me<br> + His pink of girls right lustily,<br> + With brimming glass that spilled the toast,<br> + And elbows planted as in boast:<br> + I sat in unconcerned repose,<br> + And heard the swagger as it rose.<br> + And stroking then my beard, I’d say,<br> + Smiling, the bumper in my hand:<br> + “Each well enough in her own way.<br> + But is there one in all the land<br> + Like sister Margaret, good as gold,—<br> + One that to her can a candle hold?”<br> + Cling! clang! “Here’s to her!” went around<br> + The board: “He speaks the truth!” cried some;<br> + “In her the flower o’ the sex is found!”<br> + And all the swaggerers were dumb.<br> + And now!—I could tear my hair with vexation.<br> + And dash out my brains in desperation!<br> + With turned-up nose each scamp may face me,<br> + With sneers and stinging taunts disgrace me,<br> + And, like a bankrupt debtor sitting,<br> + A chance-dropped word may set me sweating!<br> + Yet, though I thresh them all together,<br> + I cannot call them liars, either.</p> + <p>But what comes sneaking, there, to view?<br> + If I mistake not, there are two.<br> + If <i>he’s</i> one, let me at him drive!<br> + He shall not leave the spot alive.</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>How from the window of the sacristy<br> + Upward th’eternal lamp sends forth a glimmer,<br> + That, lessening side-wards, fainter grows and dimmer,<br> + Till darkness closes from the sky!<br> + The shadows thus within my bosom gather.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I’m like a sentimental tom-cat, rather,<br> + That round the tall fire-ladders sweeps,<br> + And stealthy, then, along the coping creeps:<br> + Quite virtuous, withal, I come,<br> + A little thievish and a little frolicsome.<br> + I feel in every limb the presage<br> + Forerunning the grand Walpurgis-Night:<br> + Day after to-morrow brings its message,<br> + And one keeps watch then with delight.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Meanwhile, may not the treasure risen be,<br> + Which there, behind, I glimmering see?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Shalt soon experience the pleasure,<br> + To lift the kettle with its treasure.<br> + I lately gave therein a squint—<br> + Saw splendid lion-dollars in ’t.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Not even a jewel, not a ring,<br> + To deck therewith my darling girl?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I saw, among the rest, a thing<br> + That seemed to be a chain of pearl.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>That’s well, indeed! For painful is it<br> + To bring no gift when her I visit.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Thou shouldst not find it so annoying,<br> + Without return to be enjoying.<br> + Now, while the sky leads forth its starry throng,<br> + Thou’lt hear a masterpiece, no work completer:<br> + I’ll sing her, first, a moral song,<br> + The surer, afterwards, to cheat her.</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>(<i>Sings to the cither</i>.)</p> + </div> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">What dost thou here</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">In daybreak clear,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Kathrina dear,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Before thy lover’s door?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Beware! the blade</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Lets in a maid.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">That out a maid</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Departeth nevermore!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The coaxing shun</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Of such an one!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">When once ’tis done</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Good-night to thee, poor thing!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Love’s time is brief:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Unto no thief</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Be warm and lief,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">But with the wedding-ring!</span><br> + </p> + <p>VALENTINE (<i>comes forward</i>)</p> + <p>Whom wilt thou lure? God’s-element!<br> + Rat-catching piper, thou!—perdition!<br> + To the Devil, first, the instrument!<br> + To the Devil, then, the curst musician!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The cither’s smashed! For nothing more ’tis fitting.</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>There’s yet a skull I must be splitting!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>Sir Doctor, don’t retreat, I pray!<br> + Stand by: I’ll lead, if you’ll but tarry:<br> + Out with your spit, without delay!<br> + You’ve but to lunge, and I will parry.</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>Then parry that!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Why not? ’tis light.</p> + </div> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>That, too!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Of course.</p> + </div> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>I think the Devil must fight!<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>How is it, then? my hand’s already lame:<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>Thrust home!</p> + <p>VALENTINE (<i>jails</i>)</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>O God!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Now is the lubber tame!<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>But come, away! ’Tis time for us to fly;<br> + For there arises now a murderous cry.<br> + With the police ’twere easy to compound it,<br> + But here the penal court will sift and sound it.<br> + <br></p> + + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>Exit with</i> FAUST.</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA (<i>at the window</i>)</p> + <p>Come out! Come out!</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>at the window</i>)</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Quick, bring a light!</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA (<i>as above</i>)</p> + <p>They swear and storm, they yell and fight!</p> + <p>PEOPLE</p> + <p>Here lies one dead already—see!</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>coming from the house</i>)</p> + <p>The murderers, whither have they run?</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>coming out</i>)</p> + <p>Who lies here?</p> + <p>PEOPLE</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>’Tis thy mother’s son!</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Almighty God! what misery!</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>I’m dying! That is quickly said,<br> + And quicker yet ’tis done.<br> + Why howl, you women there? Instead,<br> + Come here and listen, every one!</p> + <p>(<i>All gather around him</i>)</p> + <p>My Margaret, see! still young thou art,<br> + But not the least bit shrewd or smart,<br> + Thy business thus to slight:<br> + So this advice I bid thee heed—<br> + Now that thou art a whore indeed,<br> + Why, be one then, outright!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>My brother! God! such words to me?</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>In this game let our Lord God be!<br> + What’s done’s already done, alas!<br> + What follows it, must come to pass.<br> + With one begin’st thou secretly,<br> + Then soon will others come to thee,<br> + And when a dozen thee have known,<br> + Thou’rt also free to all the town.<br> + When Shame is born and first appears,<br> + She is in secret brought to light,<br> + And then they draw the veil of night<br> + Over her head and ears;<br> + Her life, in fact, they’re loath to spare her.<br> + But let her growth and strength display,<br> + She walks abroad unveiled by day,<br> + Yet is not grown a whit the fairer.<br> + The uglier she is to sight,<br> + The more she seeks the day’s broad light.<br> + The time I verily can discern<br> + When all the honest folk will turn<br> + From thee, thou jade! and seek protection<br> + As from a corpse that breeds infection.<br> + Thy guilty heart shall then dismay thee.<br> + When they but look thee in the face:—<br> + Shalt not in a golden chain array thee,<br> + Nor at the altar take thy place!<br> + Shalt not, in lace and ribbons flowing,<br> + Make merry when the dance is going!<br> + But in some corner, woe betide thee!<br> + Among the beggars and cripples hide thee;<br> + And so, though even God forgive,<br> + On earth a damned existence live!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Commend your soul to God for pardon,<br> + That you your heart with slander harden!</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>Thou pimp most infamous, be still!<br> + Could I thy withered body kill,<br> + ’Twould bring, for all my sinful pleasure,<br> + Forgiveness in the richest measure.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>My brother! This is Hell’s own pain!</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>I tell thee, from thy tears refrain!<br> + When thou from honor didst depart<br> + It stabbed me to the very heart.<br> + Now through the slumber of the grave<br> + I go to God as a soldier brave.</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>(<i>Dies</i>.)</p> + </div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-199.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-200.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XX"></a>XX</h2></div> + <p>CATHEDRAL</p> + <p>SERVICE, ORGAN <i>and</i> ANTHEM.</p> + <p>(MARGARET <i>among much people: the</i> EVIL SPIRIT <i>behind</i><br> + MARGARET.)</p> + <p>EVIL SPIRIT</p> + <p>HOW otherwise was it, Margaret,<br> + When thou, still innocent,<br> + Here to the altar cam’st,<br> + And from the worn and fingered book<br> + Thy prayers didst prattle,<br> + Half sport of childhood,<br> + Half God within thee!<br> + Margaret!<br> + Where tends thy thought?<br> + Within thy bosom<br> + What hidden crime?<br> + Pray’st thou for mercy on thy mother’s soul,<br> + That fell asleep to long, long torment, and through thee?<br> + Upon thy threshold whose the blood?<br> + And stirreth not and quickens<br> + Something beneath thy heart,<br> + Thy life disquieting<br> + With most foreboding presence?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Woe! woe!<br> + Would I were free from the thoughts<br> + That cross me, drawing hither and thither<br> + Despite me!</p> + <p>CHORUS</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p><i>Diesira, dies illa,</i><br> + Solvet soeclum in favilla!<br> + <i>(Sound of the organ</i>.)<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>EVIL SPIRIT</p> + <p>Wrath takes thee!<br> + The trumpet peals!<br> + The graves tremble!<br> + And thy heart<br> + From ashy rest<br> + To fiery torments<br> + Now again requickened,<br> + Throbs to life!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Would I were forth!<br> + I feel as if the organ here<br> + My breath takes from me,<br> + My very heart<br> + Dissolved by the anthem!</p> + <p>CHORUS</p> + <div class="indented"> + <i>Judex ergo cum sedebit,</i><br> + Quidquid latet, ad parebit,<br> + Nil inultum remanebit.<br> + <br> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I cannot breathe!<br> + The massy pillars<br> + Imprison me!<br> + The vaulted arches<br> + Crush me!—Air!</p> + <p>EVIL SPIRIT</p> + <p>Hide thyself! Sin and shame<br> + Stay never hidden.<br> + Air? Light?<br> + Woe to thee!</p> + <p>CHORUS</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p><i>Quid sum miser tunc dicturus,</i><br> + Quem patronem rogaturus,<br> + Cum vix Justus sit securus<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>EVIL SPIRIT</p> + <p>They turn their faces,<br> + The glorified, from thee:<br> + The pure, their hands to offer,<br> + Shuddering, refuse thee!<br> + Woe!</p> + <p>CHORUS</p> + <p><i>Quid sum miser tune dicturus</i>?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Neighbor! your cordial! (<i>She falls in + a swoon</i>.)</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-202.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-203.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XXI"></a>XXI</h2></div> + <p>WALPURGIS-NIGHT</p> + <p>THE HARTZ MOUNTAINS.</p> + <p><i>District of Schierke and Elend</i>.</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>DOST thou not wish a broomstick-steed’s assistance?<br> + The sturdiest he-goat I would gladly see:<br> + The way we take, our goal is yet some distance.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>So long as in my legs I feel the fresh existence.<br> + This knotted staff suffices me.<br> + What need to shorten so the way?<br> + Along this labyrinth of vales to wander,<br> + Then climb the rocky ramparts yonder,<br> + Wherefrom the fountain flings eternal spray,<br> + Is such delight, my steps would fain delay.<br> + The spring-time stirs within the fragrant birches,<br> + And even the fir-tree feels it now:<br> + Should then our limbs escape its gentle searches?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I notice no such thing, I vow!<br> + ’Tis winter still within my body:<br> + Upon my path I wish for frost and snow.<br> + How sadly rises, incomplete and ruddy,<br> + The moon’s lone disk, with its belated glow,<br> + And lights so dimly, that, as one advances,<br> + At every step one strikes a rock or tree!<br> + Let us, then, use a Jack-o’-lantern’s glances:<br> + I see one yonder, burning merrily.<br> + Ho, there! my friend! I’ll levy thine attendance:<br> + Why waste so vainly thy resplendence?<br> + Be kind enough to light us up the steep!</p> + <p>WILL-O’-THE-WISP</p> + <p>My reverence, I hope, will me enable<br> + To curb my temperament unstable;<br> + For zigzag courses we are wont to keep.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Indeed? he’d like mankind to imitate!<br> + Now, in the Devil’s name, go straight,<br> + Or I’ll blow out his being’s flickering spark!</p> + <p>WILL-O’-THE-WISP</p> + <p>You are the master of the house, I mark,<br> + And I shall try to serve you nicely.<br> + But then, reflect: the mountain’s magic-mad to-day,<br> + And if a will-o’-the-wisp must guide you on the way,<br> + You mustn’t take things too precisely.</p> + <p>FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, WILL-O’-THE-WISP</p> + <p>(<i>in alternating song</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We, it seems, have entered newly</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In the sphere of dreams enchanted.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Do thy bidding, guide us truly,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">That our feet be forwards planted</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In the vast, the desert spaces!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">See them swiftly changing places,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Trees on trees beside us trooping,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the crags above us stooping,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the rocky snouts, + outgrowing,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Hear them snoring, hear them blowing!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">O’er the stones, the grasses, flowing</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Stream and streamlet seek the hollow.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Hear I noises? songs that follow?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Hear I tender love-petitions?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Voices of those heavenly visions?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Sounds of hope, of love undying!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the echoes, like traditions</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Of old days, come faint and hollow.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Hoo-hoo! Shoo-hoo! Nearer hover</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Jay and screech-owl, and the + plover,—</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Are they all awake and crying?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Is’t the salamander pushes,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bloated-bellied, through the bushes?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the roots, like serpents twisted,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Through the sand and boulders + toiling,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Fright us, weirdest links uncoiling</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To entrap us, unresisted:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Living knots and gnarls uncanny</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Feel with polypus-antennae</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">For the wanderer. Mice are flying,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Thousand-colored, herd-wise hieing</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Through the moss and through the + heather!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the fire-flies wink and darkle,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Crowded swarms that soar and sparkle,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And in wildering escort gather!</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Tell me, if we still are standing,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Or if further we’re ascending?</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">All is turning, whirling, blending,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Trees and rocks with grinning faces,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Wandering lights that spin in mazes,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Still increasing and expanding!</span><br> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Grasp my skirt with heart undaunted!<br> + Here a middle-peak is planted,<br> + Whence one seeth, with amaze,<br> + Mammon in the mountain blaze.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>How strangely glimmers through the hollows<br> + A dreary light, like that of dawn!<br> + Its exhalation tracks and follows<br> + The deepest gorges, faint and wan.<br> + Here steam, there rolling vapor sweepeth;<br> + Here burns the glow through film and haze:<br> + Now like a tender thread it creepeth,<br> + Now like a fountain leaps and plays.<br> + Here winds away, and in a hundred<br> + Divided veins the valley braids:<br> + There, in a corner pressed and sundered,<br> + Itself detaches, spreads and fades.<br> + Here gush the sparkles incandescent<br> + Like scattered showers of golden sand;—<br> + But, see! in all their height, at present,<br> + The rocky ramparts blazing stand.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-207.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +<p class="caption"><i>Under the old ribs of the rock retreating</i></p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Has not Sir Mammon grandly lighted<br> + His palace for this festal night?<br> + ’Tis lucky thou hast seen the sight;<br> + The boisterous guests approach that were invited.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>How raves the tempest through the air!<br> + With what fierce blows upon my neck ’tis beating!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Under the old ribs of the rock retreating,<br> + Hold fast, lest thou be hurled down the abysses there!<br> + The night with the mist is black;<br> + Hark! how the forests grind and crack!<br> + Frightened, the owlets are scattered:<br> + Hearken! the pillars are shattered.<br> + The evergreen palaces shaking!<br> + Boughs are groaning and breaking,<br> + The tree-trunks terribly thunder,<br> + The roots are twisting asunder!<br> + In frightfully intricate crashing<br> + Each on the other is dashing,<br> + And over the wreck-strewn gorges<br> + The tempest whistles and surges!<br> + Hear’st thou voices higher ringing?<br> + Far away, or nearer singing?<br> + Yes, the mountain’s side along,<br> + Sweeps an infuriate glamouring song!</p> + <p>WITCHES (<i>in chorus</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The witches ride to the Brocken’s + top,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The stubble is yellow, and green the + crop.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">There gathers the crowd for carnival:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Sir Urian sits over all.</span><br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And so they go over stone and stock;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The witch she——-s, and——-s + the buck.</span><br> + <br> + A VOICE<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Alone, old Baubo’s coming now;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">She rides upon a farrow-sow.</span><br> + <br> + CHORUS<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Then honor to whom the honor is due!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Dame Baubo first, to lead the crew!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A tough old sow and the mother + thereon,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Then follow the witches, every one.</span><br> + </p> + <p>A VOICE</p> + <p>Which way com’st thou hither?</p> + <p>VOICE</p> + <p>O’er the Ilsen-stone.<br> + I peeped at the owl in her nest alone:<br> + How she stared and glared!</p> + <p>VOICE</p> + <p>Betake thee to Hell!<br> + Why so fast and so fell?</p> + <p>VOICE</p> + <p>She has scored and has flayed me:<br> + See the wounds she has made me!</p> + <p>WITCHES (<i>chorus</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The way is wide, the way is long:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">See, what a wild and crazy throng!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The broom it scratches, the fork it + thrusts,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The child is stifled, the mother + bursts.</span><br> + </p> + <p>WIZARDS (<i>semichorus</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As doth the snail in shell, we + crawl:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Before us go the women all.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">When towards the Devil’s House we + tread,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Woman’s a thousand steps ahead.</span><br> + <br> + OTHER SEMICHORUS<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We do not measure with such care:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Woman in thousand steps is theft.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">But howsoe’er she hasten may,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Man in one leap has cleared the way.</span><br> + </p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from above</i>)</p> + <p>Come on, come on, from Rocky Lake!</p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from below</i>)</p> + <p>Aloft we’d fain ourselves betake.<br> + We’ve washed, and are bright as ever you will,<br> + Yet we’re eternally sterile still.</p> + <p>BOTH CHORUSES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The wind is hushed, the star shoots + by.</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The dreary moon forsakes the sky;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The magic notes, like spark on spark,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Drizzle, whistling through the dark.</span><br> + </p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from below</i>)</p> + <p>Halt, there! Ho, there!</p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from above</i>)</p> + <p>Who calls from the rocky cleft below there?</p> + <p>VOICE (<i>below</i>)</p> + <p>Take me, too! take me, too!<br> + I’m climbing now three hundred years,<br> + And yet the summit cannot see:<br> + Among my equals I would be.</p> + <p>BOTH CHORUSES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bears the broom and bears the + stock,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bears the fork and bears the buck:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Who cannot raise himself to-night</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Is evermore a ruined wight.</span><br> + </p> + <p>HALF-WITCH (<i>below</i>)</p> + <p>So long I stumble, ill bestead,<br> + And the others are now so far ahead!<br> + At home I’ve neither rest nor cheer,<br> + And yet I cannot gain them here.</p> + <p>CHORUS OF WITCHES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To cheer the witch will salve + avail;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A rag will answer for a sail;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Each trough a goodly ship supplies;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He ne’er will fly, who now not flies.</span><br> + </p> + <p>BOTH CHORUSES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">When round the summit whirls our + flight,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Then lower, and on the ground alight;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And far and wide the heather press</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">With witchhood’s swarms of + wantonness!</span><br> + </p> + <p>(<i>They settle down</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>They crowd and push, they roar and clatter!<br> + They whirl and whistle, pull and chatter!<br> + They shine, and spirt, and stink, and burn!<br> + The true witch-element we learn.<br> + Keep close! or we are parted, in our turn,<br> + Where art thou?</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>in the distance</i>)</p> + <p>Here!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>What! whirled so far astray?<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>Then house-right I must use, and clear the way.<br> + Make room! Squire Voland comes! Room, gentle rabble,<br> + room!<br> + <br></p> + + <p>Here, Doctor, hold to me: in one jump we’ll resume<br> + An easier space, and from the crowd be free:<br> + It’s too much, even for the like of me.<br> + Yonder, with special light, there’s something shining clearer<br> + Within those bushes; I’ve a mind to see.<br> + Come on! we’ll slip a little nearer.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Spirit of Contradiction! On! I’ll follow straight.<br> + ’Tis planned most wisely, if I judge aright:<br> + We climb the Brocken’s top in the Walpurgis-Night,<br> + That arbitrarily, here, ourselves we isolate.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But see, what motley flames among the heather!<br> + There is a lively club together:<br> + In smaller circles one is not alone.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Better the summit, I must own:<br> + There fire and whirling smoke I see.<br> + They seek the Evil One in wild confusion:<br> + Many enigmas there might find solution.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But there enigmas also knotted be.<br> + Leave to the multitude their riot!<br> + Here will we house ourselves in quiet.<br> + It is an old, transmitted trade,<br> + That in the greater world the little worlds are made.<br> + I see stark-nude young witches congregate,<br> + And old ones, veiled and hidden shrewdly:<br> + On my account be kind, nor treat them rudely!<br> + The trouble’s small, the fun is great.<br> + I hear the noise of instruments attuning,—<br> + Vile din! yet one must learn to bear the crooning.<br> + Come, come along! It <i>must</i> be, I declare!<br> + I’ll go ahead and introduce thee there,<br> + Thine obligation newly earning.<br> + That is no little space: what say’st thou, friend?<br> + Look yonder! thou canst scarcely see the end:<br> + A hundred fires along the ranks are burning.<br> + They dance, they chat, they cook, they drink, they court:<br> + Now where, just tell me, is there better sport?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Wilt thou, to introduce us to the revel,<br> + Assume the part of wizard or of devil?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I’m mostly used, ’tis true, to go incognito,<br> + But on a gala-day one may his orders show.<br> + The Garter does not deck my suit,<br> + But honored and at home is here the cloven foot.<br> + Perceiv’st thou yonder snail? It cometh, slow and steady;<br> + So delicately its feelers pry,<br> + That it hath scented me already:<br> + I cannot here disguise me, if I try.<br> + But come! we’ll go from this fire to a newer:<br> + I am the go-between, and thou the wooer.</p> + <p>(<i>To some, who are sitting around dying embers</i>:)</p> + <p>Old gentlemen, why at the outskirts? Enter!<br> + I’d praise you if I found you snugly in the centre,<br> + With youth and revel round you like a zone:<br> + You each, at home, are quite enough alone.</p> + <p>GENERAL</p> + <p>Say, who would put his trust in nations,<br> + Howe’er for them one may have worked and planned?<br> + For with the people, as with women,<br> + Youth always has the upper hand.</p> + <p>MINISTER</p> + <p>They’re now too far from what is just and sage.<br> + I praise the old ones, not unduly:<br> + When we were all-in-all, then, truly,<br> + <i>Then</i> was the real golden age.</p> + <p>PARVENU</p> + <p>We also were not stupid, either,<br> + And what we should not, often did;<br> + But now all things have from their bases slid,<br> + Just as we meant to hold them fast together.</p> + <p>AUTHOR</p> + <p>Who, now, a work of moderate sense will read?<br> + Such works are held as antiquate and mossy;<br> + And as regards the younger folk, indeed,<br> + They never yet have been so pert and saucy.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>(<i>who all at once appears very old</i>)</p> + <p>I feel that men are ripe for Judgment-Day,<br> + Now for the last time I’ve the witches’-hill ascended:<br> + Since to the lees <i>my</i> cask is drained away,<br> + The world’s, as well, must soon be ended.</p> + <p>HUCKSTER-WITCH</p> + <p>Ye gentlemen, don’t pass me thus!<br> + Let not the chance neglected be!<br> + Behold my wares attentively:<br> + The stock is rare and various.<br> + And yet, there’s nothing I’ve collected—<br> + No shop, on earth, like this you’ll find!—<br> + Which has not, once, sore hurt inflicted<br> + Upon the world, and on mankind.<br> + No dagger’s here, that set not blood to flowing;<br> + No cup, that hath not once, within a healthy frame<br> + Poured speedy death, in poison glowing:<br> + No gems, that have not brought a maid to shame;<br> + No sword, but severed ties for the unwary,<br> + Or from behind struck down the adversary.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Gossip! the times thou badly comprehendest:<br> + What’s done has happed—what haps, is done!<br> + ’Twere better if for novelties thou sendest:<br> + By such alone can we be won.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Let me not lose myself in all this pother!<br> + This is a fair, as never was another!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The whirlpool swirls to get above:<br> + Thou’rt shoved thyself, imagining to shove.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>But who is that?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Note her especially,<br> + Tis Lilith.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>Who?</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Adam’s first wife is she.<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>Beware the lure within her lovely tresses,<br> + The splendid sole adornment of her hair!<br> + When she succeeds therewith a youth to snare,<br> + Not soon again she frees him from her jesses.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Those two, the old one with the young one sitting,<br> + They’ve danced already more than fitting.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>No rest to-night for young or old!<br> + They start another dance: come now, let us take hold!</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>dancing with the young witch</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A lovely dream once came to me;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I then beheld an apple-tree,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And there two fairest apples shone:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">They lured me so, I climbed thereon.</span><br> + <br> + THE FAIR ONE<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Apples have been desired by you,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Since first in Paradise they grew;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And I am moved with joy, to know</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">That such within my garden grow.</span><br> + <br> + MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>dancing with the old one</i>)<br> + <br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A dissolute dream once came to me:</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Therein I saw a cloven tree,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Which had + a————————;</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Yet,——as ’twas, I fancied + it.</span><br> + </p> + <p>THE OLD ONE</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I offer here my best salute</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Unto the knight with cloven foot!</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Let him + a—————prepare,</span><br> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">If + him—————————does not + scare.</span><br> + </p> + <p>PROKTOPHANTASMIST</p> + <p>Accurséd folk! How dare you venture thus?<br> + Had you not, long since, demonstration<br> + That ghosts can’t stand on ordinary foundation?<br> + And now you even dance, like one of us!</p> + <p>THE FAIR ONE (<i>dancing</i>)</p> + <p>Why does he come, then, to our ball?</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>dancing</i>)</p> + <p>O, everywhere on him you fall!<br> + When others dance, he weighs the matter:<br> + If he can’t every step bechatter,<br> + Then ’tis the same as were the step not made;<br> + But if you forwards go, his ire is most displayed.<br> + If you would whirl in regular gyration<br> + As he does in his dull old mill,<br> + He’d show, at any rate, good-will,—<br> + Especially if you heard and heeded his hortation.</p> + <p>PROKTOPHANTASMIST</p> + <p>You still are here? Nay, ’tis a thing unheard!<br> + Vanish, at once! We’ve said the enlightening word.<br> + The pack of devils by no rules is daunted:<br> + We are so wise, and yet is Tegel haunted.<br> + To clear the folly out, how have I swept and stirred!<br> + Twill ne’er be clean: why, ’tis a thing unheard!</p> + <p>THE FAIR ONE</p> + <p>Then cease to bore us at our ball!</p> + <p>PROKTOPHANTASMIST</p> + <p>I tell you, spirits, to your face,<br> + I give to spirit-despotism no place;<br> + My spirit cannot practise it at all.</p> + <p>(<i>The dance continues</i>)</p> + <p>Naught will succeed, I see, amid such revels;<br> + Yet something from a tour I always save,<br> + And hope, before my last step to the grave,<br> + To overcome the poets and the devils.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>He now will seat him in the nearest puddle;<br> + The solace this, whereof he’s most assured:<br> + And when upon his rump the leeches hang and fuddle,<br> + He’ll be of spirits and of Spirit cured.</p> + <p>(<i>To</i> FAUST, <i>who has left the dance</i>:)</p> + <p>Wherefore forsakest thou the lovely maiden,<br> + That in the dance so sweetly sang?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Ah! in the midst of it there sprang<br> + A red mouse from her mouth—sufficient reason.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>That’s nothing! One must not so squeamish be;<br> + So the mouse was not gray, enough for thee.<br> + Who’d think of that in love’s selected season?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Then saw I—.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>What?</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Mephisto, seest thou there,<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>Alone and far, a girl most pale and fair?<br> + She falters on, her way scarce knowing,<br> + As if with fettered feet that stay her going.<br> + I must confess, it seems to me<br> + As if my kindly Margaret were she.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Let the thing be! All thence have evil drawn:<br> + It is a magic shape, a lifeless eidolon.<br> + Such to encounter is not good:<br> + Their blank, set stare benumbs the human blood,<br> + And one is almost turned to stone.<br> + Medusa’s tale to thee is known.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Forsooth, the eyes they are of one whom, dying,<br> + No hand with loving pressure closed;<br> + That is the breast whereon I once was lying,—<br> + The body sweet, beside which I reposed!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Tis magic all, thou fool, seduced so easily!<br> + Unto each man his love she seems to be.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The woe, the rapture, so ensnare me,<br> + That from her gaze I cannot tear me!<br> + And, strange! around her fairest throat<br> + A single scarlet band is gleaming,<br> + No broader than a knife-blade seeming!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Quite right! The mark I also note.<br> + Her head beneath her arm she’ll sometimes carry;<br> + Twas Perseus lopped it, her old adversary.<br> + Thou crav’st the same illusion still!<br> + Come, let us mount this little hill;<br> + The Prater shows no livelier stir,<br> + And, if they’ve not bewitched my sense,<br> + I verily see a theatre.<br> + What’s going on?</p> + <p>SERVIBILIS</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>’Twill shortly recommence:<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>A new performance—’tis the last of seven.<br> + To give that number is the custom here:<br> + ’Twas by a Dilettante written,<br> + And Dilettanti in the parts appear.<br> + That now I vanish, pardon, I entreat you!<br> + As Dilettante I the curtain raise.<br> + <br></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>When I upon the Blocksberg meet you,<br> + I find it good: for that’s your proper place.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-221.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-222.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XXII"></a>XXII</h2></div> + <p>WALPURGIS-NIGHT’S DREAM</p> + <p>OBERON AND TITANIA’s GOLDEN WEDDING</p> + <p>INTERMEZZO</p> + <p>MANAGER</p> + <p>Sons of Mieding, rest to-day!<br> + Needless your machinery:<br> + Misty vale and mountain gray,<br> + That is all the scenery.</p> + <p>HERALD</p> + <p>That the wedding golden be.<br> + Must fifty years be rounded:<br> + But <i>the Golden</i> give to me,<br> + When the strife’s compounded.</p> + <p>OBERON</p> + <p>Spirits, if you’re here, be seen—<br> + Show yourselves, delighted!<br> + Fairy king and fairy queen,<br> + They are newly plighted.</p> + <p>PUCK</p> + <p>Cometh Puck, and, light of limb,<br> + Whisks and whirls in measure:<br> + Come a hundred after him,<br> + To share with him the pleasure.</p> + <p>ARIEL</p> + <p>Ariel’s song is heavenly-pure,<br> + His tones are sweet and rare ones:<br> + Though ugly faces he allure,<br> + Yet he allures the fair ones.</p> + <p>OBERON</p> + <p>Spouses, who would fain agree,<br> + Learn how we were mated!<br> + If your pairs would loving be,<br> + First be separated!</p> + <p>TITANIA</p> + <p>If her whims the wife control,<br> + And the man berate her,<br> + Take him to the Northern Pole,<br> + And her to the Equator!</p> + <p>ORCHESTRA. TUTTI.</p> + <p><i>Fortissimo</i>.</p> + <p>Snout of fly, mosquito-bill,<br> + And kin of all conditions,<br> + Frog in grass, and cricket-trill,—<br> + These are the musicians!</p> + <p>SOLO</p> + <p>See the bagpipe on our track!<br> + ’Tis the soap-blown bubble:<br> + Hear the <i>schnecke-schnicke-schnack</i><br> + Through his nostrils double!</p> + <p>SPIRIT, JUST GROWING INTO FORM</p> + <p>Spider’s foot and paunch of toad,<br> + And little wings—we know ’em!<br> + A little creature ’twill not be,<br> + But yet, a little poem.</p> + <p>A LITTLE COUPLE</p> + <p>Little step and lofty leap<br> + Through honey-dew and fragrance:<br> + You’ll never mount the airy steep<br> + With all your tripping vagrance.</p> + <p>INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER</p> + <p>Is’t but masquerading play?<br> + See I with precision?<br> + Oberon, the beauteous fay,<br> + Meets, to-night, my vision!</p> + <p>ORTHODOX</p> + <p>Not a claw, no tail I see!<br> + And yet, beyond a cavil,<br> + Like “the Gods of Greece,” must he<br> + Also be a devil.</p> + <p>NORTHERN ARTIST</p> + <p>I only seize, with sketchy air,<br> + Some outlines of the tourney;<br> + Yet I betimes myself prepare<br> + For my Italian journey.</p> + <p>PURIST</p> + <p>My bad luck brings me here, alas!<br> + How roars the orgy louder!<br> + And of the witches in the mass,<br> + But only two wear powder.</p> + <p>YOUNG WITCH</p> + <p>Powder becomes, like petticoat,<br> + A gray and wrinkled noddy;<br> + So I sit naked on my goat,<br> + And show a strapping body.</p> + <p>MATRON</p> + <p>We’ve too much tact and policy<br> + To rate with gibes a scolder;<br> + Yet, young and tender though you be,<br> + I hope to see you moulder.</p> + <p>LEADER OF THE BAND</p> + <p>Fly-snout and mosquito-bill,<br> + Don’t swarm so round the Naked!<br> + Frog in grass and cricket-trill,<br> + Observe the time, and make it!</p> + <p>WEATHERCOCK (<i>towards one side</i>)</p> + <p>Society to one’s desire!<br> + Brides only, and the sweetest!<br> + And bachelors of youth and fire.<br> + And prospects the completest!</p> + <p>WEATHERCOCK (<i>towards the other side</i>)</p> + <p>And if the Earth don’t open now<br> + To swallow up each ranter,<br> + Why, then will I myself, I vow,<br> + Jump into hell instanter!</p> + <p>XENIES</p> + <p>Us as little insects see!<br> + With sharpest nippers flitting,<br> + That our Papa Satan we<br> + May honor as is fitting.</p> + <p>HENNINGS</p> + <p>How, in crowds together massed,<br> + They are jesting, shameless!<br> + They will even say, at last,<br> + That their hearts are blameless.</p> + <p>MUSAGETES</p> + <p>Among this witches’ revelry<br> + His way one gladly loses;<br> + And, truly, it would easier be<br> + Than to command the Muses.</p> + <p>CI-DEVANT GENIUS OF THE AGE</p> + <p>The proper folks one’s talents laud:<br> + Come on, and none shall pass us!<br> + The Blocksberg has a summit broad,<br> + Like Germany’s Parnassus.</p> + <p>INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER</p> + <p>Say, who’s the stiff and pompous man?<br> + He walks with haughty paces:<br> + He snuffles all he snuffle can:<br> + “He scents the Jesuits’ traces.”</p> + <p>CRANE</p> + <p>Both clear and muddy streams, for me<br> + Are good to fish and sport in:<br> + And thus the pious man you see<br> + With even devils consorting.</p> + <p>WORLDLING</p> + <p>Yes, for the pious, I suspect,<br> + All instruments are fitting;<br> + And on the Blocksberg they erect<br> + Full many a place of meeting.</p> + <p>DANCER</p> + <p>A newer chorus now succeeds!<br> + I hear the distant drumming.<br> + “Don’t be disturbed! ’tis, in the reeds,<br> + The bittern’s changeless booming.”</p> + <p>DANCING-MASTER</p> + <p>How each his legs in nimble trip<br> + Lifts up, and makes a clearance!<br> + The crooked jump, the heavy skip,<br> + Nor care for the appearance.</p> + <p>GOOD FELLOW</p> + <p>The rabble by such hate are held,<br> + To maim and slay delights them:<br> + As Orpheus’ lyre the brutes compelled,<br> + The bagpipe here unites them.</p> + <p>DOGMATIST</p> + <p>I’ll not be led by any lure<br> + Of doubts or critic-cavils:<br> + The Devil must be something, sure,—<br> + Or how should there be devils?</p> + <p>IDEALIST</p> + <p>This once, the fancy wrought in me<br> + Is really too despotic:<br> + Forsooth, if I am all I see,<br> + I must be idiotic!</p> + <p>REALIST</p> + <p>This racking fuss on every hand,<br> + It gives me great vexation;<br> + And, for the first time, here I stand<br> + On insecure foundation.</p> + <p>SUPERNATURALIST</p> + <p>With much delight I see the play,<br> + And grant to these their merits,<br> + Since from the devils I also may<br> + Infer the better spirits.</p> + <p>SCEPTIC</p> + <p>The flame they follow, on and on,<br> + And think they’re near the treasure:<br> + But <i>Devil</i> rhymes with <i>Doubt</i> alone,<br> + So I am here with pleasure.</p> + <p>LEADER OF THE BAND</p> + <p>Frog in green, and cricket-trill.<br> + Such dilettants!—perdition!<br> + Fly-snout and mosquito-bill,—<br> + Each one’s a fine musician!</p> + <p>THE ADROIT</p> + <p><i>Sans souci</i>, we call the clan<br> + Of merry creatures so, then;<br> + Go a-foot no more we can,<br> + And on our heads we go, then.</p> + <p>THE AWKWARD</p> + <p>Once many a bit we sponged, but now,<br> + God help us! that is done with:<br> + Our shoes are all danced out, we trow,<br> + We’ve but naked soles to run with.</p> + <p>WILL-O’-THE WISPS</p> + <p>From the marshes we appear,<br> + Where we originated;<br> + Yet in the ranks, at once, we’re here<br> + As glittering gallants rated.</p> + <p>SHOOTING-STAR</p> + <p>Darting hither from the sky,<br> + In star and fire light shooting,<br> + Cross-wise now in grass I lie:<br> + Who’ll help me to my footing?</p> + <p>THE HEAVY FELLOWS</p> + <p>Room! and round about us, room!<br> + Trodden are the grasses:<br> + Spirits also, spirits come,<br> + And they are bulky masses.</p> + <p>PUCK</p> + <p>Enter not so stall-fed quite,<br> + Like elephant-calves about one!<br> + And the heaviest weight to-night<br> + Be Puck, himself, the stout one!</p> + <p>ARIEL</p> + <p>If loving Nature at your back,<br> + Or Mind, the wings uncloses,<br> + Follow up my airy track<br> + To the mount of roses!</p> + <p>ORCHESTRA</p> + <p><i>pianissimo</i><br> + Cloud and trailing mist o’erhead<br> + Are now illuminated:<br> + Air in leaves, and wind in reed,<br> + And all is dissipated.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-230.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XXIII"></a>XXIII</h2></div> + <p>DREARY DAY</p> + <p>A FIELD</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>In misery! In despair! Long wretchedly astray on the face<br> + of the earth, and now imprisoned! That gracious, ill-starred<br> + creature shut in a dungeon as a criminal, and given<br> + up to fearful torments! To this has it come! to this!—Treacherous,<br> + contemptible spirit, and thou hast concealed it from<br> + me!—Stand, then,—stand! Roll the devilish eyes wrathfully in<br> + thy head! Stand and defy me with thine intolerable presence!<br> + Imprisoned! In irretrievable misery! Delivered up to evil<br> + spirits, and to condemning, unfeeling Man! And thou hast<br> + lulled me, meanwhile, with the most insipid dissipations, hast<br> + concealed from me her increasing wretchedness, and suffered<br> + her to go helplessly to ruin!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-231.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +<p class="caption">Roll the devilish eyes wrathfully in thy head</p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>She is not the first.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Dog! Abominable monster! Transform him, thou Infinite<br> + Spirit! transform the reptile again into his dog-shape? in which<br> + it pleased him often at night to scamper on before me, to roll<br> + himself at the feet of the unsuspecting wanderer, and hang<br> + upon his shoulders when he fell! Transform him again into<br> + his favorite likeness, that he may crawl upon his belly in the<br> + dust before me,—that I may trample him, the outlawed, under<br> + foot! Not the first! O woe! woe which no human soul can<br> + grasp, that more than one being should sink into the depths<br> + of this misery,—that the first, in its writhing death-agony<br> + under the eyes of the Eternal Forgiver, did not expiate the<br> + guilt of all others! The misery of this single one pierces to the<br> + very marrow of my life; and thou art calmly grinning at the<br> + fate of thousands!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Now we are already again at the end of our wits, where the<br> + understanding of you men runs wild. Why didst thou enter<br> + into fellowship with us, if thou canst not carry it out? Wilt fly,<br> + and art not secure against dizziness? Did we thrust ourselves<br> + upon thee, or thou thyself upon us?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Gnash not thus thy devouring teeth at me? It fills me with<br> + horrible disgust. Mighty, glorious Spirit, who hast vouchsafed<br> + to me Thine apparition, who knowest my heart and my soul,<br> + why fetter me to the felon-comrade, who feeds on mischief and<br> + gluts himself with ruin?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Hast thou done?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Rescue her, or woe to thee! The fearfullest curse be upon<br> + thee for thousands of ages!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I cannot loosen the bonds of the Avenger, nor undo his bolts.<br> + Rescue her? Who was it that plunged her into ruin? I, or thou?</p> + <p>(FAUST <i>looks around wildly</i>.)</p> + <p>Wilt thou grasp the thunder? Well that it has not been<br> + given to you, miserable mortals! To crush to pieces the innocent<br> + respondent—that is the tyrant-fashion of relieving one’s<br> + self in embarrassments.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Take me thither! She shall be free!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And the danger to which thou wilt expose thyself? Know<br> + that the guilt of blood, from thy hand, still lies upon the town!<br> + Avenging spirits hover over the spot where the victim fell, and<br> + lie in wait for the returning murderer.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>That, too, from thee? Murder and death of a world upon<br> + thee, monster! Take me thither, I say, and liberate her!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I will convey thee there; and hear, what I can do! Have I<br> + all the power in Heaven and on Earth? I will becloud the<br> + jailer’s senses: get possession of the key, and lead her forth with<br> + human hand! I will keep watch: the magic steeds are ready,<br> + I will carry you off. So much is in my power.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Up and away!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-235.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XXIV"></a>XXIV</h2></div> + <p>NIGHT</p> + <p>OPEN FIELD</p> + <p>(FAUST <i>and</i> MEPHISTOPHELES <i>speeding onward on black horses</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What weave they there round the raven-stone?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I know not what they are brewing and doing.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Soaring up, sweeping down, bowing and bending!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>A witches’-guild.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>They scatter, devote and doom!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>On! on!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-236.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <div class='chapter'><h2><a id="XXV"></a>XXV</h2></div> + <p>DUNGEON</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>(<i>with a bunch of keys and a lamp, before an iron door</i>)</p> + <p>A shudder, long unfelt, comes o’er me;<br> + Mankind’s collected woe o’erwhelms me, here.<br> + She dwells within the dark, damp walls before me,<br> + And all her crime was a delusion dear!<br> + What! I delay to free her?<br> + I dread, once again to see her?<br> + On! my shrinking but lingers Death more near.</p> + <p>(<i>He grasps the lock: the sound of singing is heard inside</i>.)</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p><i>My mother, the harlot,</i><br> + Who put me to death;<br> + My father, the varlet,<br> + Who eaten me hath!<br> + Little sister, so good,<br> + Laid my bones in the wood,<br> + In the damp moss and clay:<br> + <i>Then was I a beautiful bird o’ the wood;</i><br> + Fly away! Fly away!<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>FAUST <i>(unlocking)</i></p> + <p>She does not dream her lover listens near;<br> + That he the rattling chain, the rustling straw, can hear.</p> + <p><i>(He enters</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>hiding herself on the pallet</i>)<br> + Woe! woe! They come. O death of bitterness!</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>whispering</i>)<br> + Hush! hush! The hour is come that frees thee.</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>throwing herself before him</i>)<br> + Art thou a man, then pity my distress!</p> + <p>FAUST<br> + Thy cries will wake the guards, and they will seize thee!<br> + (<i>He takes hold of the fetters to unlock them</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>on her knees</i>)</p> + <p>Who, headsman! unto thee such power<br> + Over me could give?<br> + Thou’rt come for me at midnight-hour:<br> + Have mercy on me, let me live!<br> + Is’t not soon enough when morning chime has run?</p> + <p>(<i>She rises</i>.)</p> + <p>And I am yet so young, so young!<br> + And now Death comes, and ruin!<br> + I, too, was fair, and that was my undoing.<br> + My love was near, but now he’s far;<br> + Torn lies the wreath, scattered the blossoms are.<br> + Seize me not thus so violently!<br> + Spare me! What have I done to thee?<br> + Let me not vainly entreat thee!<br> + I never chanced, in all my days, to meet thee!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Shall I outlive this misery?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Now am I wholly in thy might.<br> + But let me suckle, first, my baby!<br> + I blissed it all this livelong night;<br> + They took ’t away, to vex me, maybe,<br> + And now they say I killed the child outright.<br> + And never shall I be glad again.<br> + They sing songs about me! ’tis bad of the folk to do it!<br> + There’s an old story has the same refrain;<br> + Who bade them so construe it?</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>falling upon his knees</i>)</p> + <p>Here lieth one who loves thee ever,<br> + The thraldom of thy woe to sever.</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>flinging herself beside him</i>)</p> + <p>O let us kneel, and call the Saints to hide us!<br> + Under the steps beside us,<br> + The threshold under,<br> + Hell heaves in thunder!<br> + The Evil One<br> + With terrible wrath<br> + Seeketh a path<br> + His prey to discover!</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>aloud</i>)</p> + <p>Margaret! Margaret!</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>attentively listening</i>)</p> + <p>That was the voice of my lover!</p> + <p>(<i>She springs to her feet: the fetters fall off</i>.)</p> + <p>Where is he? I heard him call me.<br> + I am free! No one shall enthrall me.<br> + To his neck will I fly,<br> + On his bosom lie!<br> + On the threshold he stood, and <i>Margaret</i>! calling,<br> + Midst of Hell’s howling and noises appalling,<br> + Midst of the wrathful, infernal derision,<br> + I knew the sweet sound of the voice of the vision!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>’Tis I!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>’Tis thou! O, say it once again!</p> + <p>(<i>Clasping him</i>.)</p> + <p>’Tis he! ’tis he! Where now is all my pain?<br> + The anguish of the dungeon, and the chain?<br> + ’Tis thou! Thou comest to save me,<br> + And I am saved!—<br> + Again the street I see<br> + Where first I looked on thee;<br> + And the garden, brightly blooming,<br> + Where I and Martha wait thy coming.</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>struggling to leave</i>)</p> + <p>Come! Come with me!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Delay, now!<br> + So fain I stay, when thou delayest!</p> + <p>(<i>Caressing him</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Away, now!<br> + If longer here thou stayest,<br> + We shall be made to dearly rue it.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Kiss me!—canst no longer do it?<br> + My friend, so short a time thou’rt missing,<br> + And hast unlearned thy kissing?<br> + Why is my heart so anxious, on thy breast?<br> + Where once a heaven thy glances did create me,<br> + A heaven thy loving words expressed,<br> + And thou didst kiss, as thou wouldst suffocate me—<br> + Kiss me!<br> + Or I’ll kiss thee!</p> + <p>(<i>She embraces him</i>.)</p> + <p>Ah, woe! thy lips are chill,<br> + And still.<br> + How changed in fashion<br> + Thy passion!<br> + Who has done me this ill?</p> + <p>(<i>She turns away from him</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Come, follow me! My darling, be more bold:<br> + I’ll clasp thee, soon, with warmth a thousand-fold;<br> + But follow now! ’Tis all I beg of thee.</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>turning to him</i>)</p> + <p>And is it thou? Thou, surely, certainly?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>’Tis I! Come on!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Thou wilt unloose my chain,<br> + </p> + </div> + <p>And in thy lap wilt take me once again.<br> + How comes it that thou dost not shrink from me?—<br> + Say, dost thou know, my friend, whom thou mak’st free?<br> + <br></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Come! come! The night already vanisheth.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>My mother have I put to death;<br> + I’ve drowned the baby born to thee.<br> + Was it not given to thee and me?<br> + Thee, too!—’Tis thou! It scarcely true doth seem—<br> + Give me thy hand! ’Tis not a dream!<br> + Thy dear, dear hand!—But, ah, ’tis wet!<br> + Why, wipe it off! Methinks that yet<br> + There’s blood thereon.<br> + Ah, God! what hast thou done?<br> + Nay, sheathe thy sword at last!<br> + Do not affray me!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>O, let the past be past!<br> + Thy words will slay me!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>No, no! Thou must outlive us.<br> + Now I’ll tell thee the graves to give us:<br> + Thou must begin to-morrow<br> + The work of sorrow!<br> + The best place give to my mother,<br> + Then close at her side my brother,<br> + And me a little away,<br> + But not too very far, I pray!<br> + And here, on my right breast, my baby lay!<br> + Nobody else will lie beside me!—<br> + Ah, within thine arms to hide me,<br> + That was a sweet and a gracious bliss,<br> + But no more, no more can I attain it!<br> + I would force myself on thee and constrain it,<br> + And it seems thou repellest my kiss:<br> + And yet ’tis thou, so good, so kind to see!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>If thou feel’st it is I, then come with me!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Out yonder?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>To freedom.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>If the grave is there,<br> + Death lying in wait, then come!<br> + From here to eternal rest:<br> + No further step—no, no!<br> + Thou goest away! O Henry, if I could go!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou canst! Just will it! Open stands the door.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I dare not go: there’s no hope any more.<br> + Why should I fly? They’ll still my steps waylay!<br> + It is so wretched, forced to beg my living,<br> + And a bad conscience sharper misery giving!<br> + It is so wretched, to be strange, forsaken,<br> + And I’d still be followed and taken!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I’ll stay with thee.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Be quick! Be quick!<br> + Save thy perishing child!<br> + Away! Follow the ridge<br> + Up by the brook,</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-243.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +<p class="caption">If the grave is there, Death lying in wait, then come!</p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + + <p>Over the bridge,<br> + Into the wood,<br> + To the left, where the plank is placed<br> + In the pool!<br> + Seize it in haste!<br> + ’Tis trying to rise,<br> + ’Tis struggling still!<br> + Save it! Save it!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Recall thy wandering will!<br> + One step, and thou art free at last!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>If the mountain we had only passed!<br> + There sits my mother upon a stone,—<br> + I feel an icy shiver!<br> + There sits my mother upon a stone,<br> + And her head is wagging ever.<br> + She beckons, she nods not, her heavy head falls o’er;<br> + She slept so long that she wakes no more.<br> + She slept, while we were caressing:<br> + Ah, those were the days of blessing!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Here words and prayers are nothing worth;<br> + I’ll venture, then, to bear thee forth.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>No—let me go! I’ll suffer no force!<br> + Grasp me not so murderously!<br> + I’ve done, else, all things for the love of thee.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The day dawns: Dearest! Dearest!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Day? Yes, the day comes,—the last day breaks for me!<br> + My wedding-day it was to be!<br> + Tell no one thou has been with Margaret!<br> + Woe for my garland! The chances<br> + Are over—’tis all in vain!<br> + We shall meet once again,<br> + But not at the dances!<br> + The crowd is thronging, no word is spoken:<br> + The square below<br> + And the streets overflow:<br> + The death-bell tolls, the wand is broken.<br> + I am seized, and bound, and delivered—<br> + Shoved to the block—they give the sign!<br> + Now over each neck has quivered<br> + The blade that is quivering over mine.<br> + Dumb lies the world like the grave!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>O had I ne’er been born!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>appears outside</i>)</p> + <p>Off! or you’re lost ere morn.<br> + Useless talking, delaying and praying!<br> + My horses are neighing:<br> + The morning twilight is near.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>What rises up from the threshold here?<br> + He! he! suffer him not!<br> + What does he want in this holy spot?<br> + He seeks me!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Thou shalt live.</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Judgment of God! myself to thee I give.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>Come! or I’ll leave her in the lurch, and thee!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Thine am I, Father! rescue me!<br> + Ye angels, holy cohorts, guard me,<br> + Camp around, and from evil ward me!<br> + Henry! I shudder to think of thee.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>She is judged!</p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from above</i>)</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>She is saved!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Hither to me!</p> + </div> + <p>(<i>He disappears with</i> FAUST.)</p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from within, dying away</i>)</p> + <p>Henry! Henry!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-247.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> + +<div class="fig" style="width:25%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-248.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]"> +</div> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14591 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + + diff --git a/old/14591-h/images/Illus-001.jpg b/old/14591-h/images/Illus-001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..21bdeee --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14591-h/images/Illus-001.jpg diff --git a/old/14591-h/images/Illus-002.jpg b/old/14591-h/images/Illus-002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d600d36 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14591-h/images/Illus-002.jpg diff --git a/old/14591-h/images/Illus-003.jpg b/old/14591-h/images/Illus-003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9cc6ed6 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14591-h/images/Illus-003.jpg diff --git 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: Faust + +Author: Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe + +Release Date: January 4, 2005 [eBook #14591] +[Most recently updated: March 15, 2023] + +Language: English + +Produced by: Juliet Sutherland, Chuck Greif and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAUST *** + + + + +[Illustration] +[Illustration] +[Illustration] +[Illustration] + + + + +FAUST + +_by_ + +_Johann Wolfgang von Goethe_ + +WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY + +_Harry Clarke_ + +TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH, IN +THE ORIGINAL METRES, BY + +_Bayard Taylor_ + + +_An Illustrated Edition_ + +THE WORLD PUBLISHING COMPANY + +CLEVELAND, OHIO NEW YORK, N.Y. + + + + +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + +CONTENTS + + +PREFACE +AN GOETHE +DEDICATION +PRELUDE AT THE THEATRE +PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN + +SCENE I. NIGHT (_Faust's Monologue_) + II. BEFORE THE CITY-GATE + III. THE STUDY (_The Exorcism_) + IV. THE STUDY (_The Compact_) + V. AUERBACH'S CELLAR + VI. WITCHES' KITCHEN + VII. A STREET + VIII. EVENING + IX. PROMENADE + X. THE NEIGHBOR'S HOUSE + XI. STREET + XII. GARDEN + XIII. A GARDEN-ARBOR + XIV. FOREST AND CAVERN + XV. MARGARET'S ROOM + XVI. MARTHA'S GARDEN + XVII. AT THE FOUNTAIN + XVIII. DONJON (_Margaret's Prayer_) + XIX. NIGHT (_Valentine's Death_) + XX. CATHEDRAL + XXI. WALPURGIS-NIGHT + XXII. OBERON AND TITANIA'S GOLDEN WEDDING + XXIII. DREARY DAY + XXIV. NIGHT + XXV. DUNGEON +[Illustration] + + + + +FAUST + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration: Preface] + +It is twenty years since I first determined to attempt the translation +of _Faust_, in the original metres. At that time, although more than a +score of English translations of the First Part, and three or four of +the Second Part, were in existence, the experiment had not yet been +made. The prose version of Hayward seemed to have been accepted as the +standard, in default of anything more satisfactory: the English critics, +generally sustaining the translator in his views concerning the +secondary importance of form in Poetry, practically discouraged any +further attempt; and no one, familiar with rhythmical expression through +the needs of his own nature, had devoted the necessary love and patience +to an adequate reproduction of the great work of Goethe's life. + +Mr. Brooks was the first to undertake the task, and the publication of +his translation of the First Part (in 1856) induced me, for a time, to +give up my own design. No previous English version exhibited such +abnegation of the translator's own tastes and habits of thought, such +reverent desire to present the original in its purest form. The care and +conscience with which the work had been performed were so apparent, that +I now state with reluctance what then seemed to me to be its only +deficiencies,--a lack of the lyrical fire and fluency of the original in +some passages, and an occasional lowering of the tone through the use of +words which are literal, but not equivalent. The plan of translation +adopted by Mr. Brooks was so entirely my own, that when further +residence in Germany and a more careful study of both parts of _Faust_ +had satisfied me that the field was still open,--that the means +furnished by the poetical affinity of the two languages had not yet been +exhausted,--nothing remained for me but to follow him in all essential +particulars. His example confirmed me in the belief that there were few +difficulties in the way of a nearly literal yet thoroughly rhythmical +version of _Faust_, which might not be overcome by loving labor. A +comparison of seventeen English translations, in the arbitrary metres +adopted by the translators, sufficiently showed the danger of allowing +license in this respect: the white light of Goethe's thought was thereby +passed through the tinted glass of other minds, and assumed the coloring +of each. Moreover, the plea of selecting different metres in the hope of +producing a similar effect is unreasonable, where the identical metres +are possible. + +The value of form, in a poetical work, is the first question to be +considered. No poet ever understood this question more thoroughly than +Goethe himself, or expressed a more positive opinion in regard to it. +The alternative modes of translation which he presents (reported by +Riemer, quoted by Mrs. Austin, in her "Characteristics of Goethe," and +accepted by Mr. Hayward),[A] are quite independent of his views +concerning the value of form, which we find given elsewhere, in the +clearest and most emphatic manner.[B] Poetry is not simply a fashion of +expression: it is the form of expression absolutely required by a +certain class of ideas. Poetry, indeed, may be distinguished from Prose +by the single circumstance, that it is the utterance of whatever in man +cannot be perfectly uttered in any other than a rhythmical form: it is +useless to say that the naked meaning is independent of the form: on the +contrary, the form contributes essentially to the fullness of the +meaning. In Poetry which endures through its own inherent vitality, +there is no forced union of these two elements. They are as intimately +blended, and with the same mysterious beauty, as the sexes in the +ancient Hermaphroditus. To attempt to represent Poetry in Prose, is very +much like attempting to translate music into speech.[C] + +[A] "'There are two maxims of translation,' says he: 'the one requires +that the author, of a foreign nation, be brought to us in such a manner +that we may regard him as our own; the other, on the contrary, demands +of us that we transport ourselves over to him, and adopt his situation, +his mode of speaking, and his peculiarities. The advantages of both are +sufficiently known to all instructed persons, from masterly examples.'" +Is it necessary, however, that there should always be this alternative? +Where the languages are kindred, and equally capable of all varieties of +metrical expression, may not both these "maxims" be observed in the same +translation? Goethe, it is true, was of the opinion that _Faust_ ought +to be given, in French, in the manner of Clement Marot; but this was +undoubtedly because he felt the inadequacy of modern French to express +the naive, simple realism of many passages. The same objection does not +apply to English. There are a few archaic expressions in _Faust_, but no +more than are still allowed--nay, frequently encouraged--in the English +of our day. + +[B] "You are right," said Goethe; "there are great and mysterious +agencies included in the various forms of Poetry. If the substance of my +'Roman Elegies' were to be expressed in the tone and measure of Byron's +'Don Juan,' it would really have an atrocious effect."--_Eckermann_. + +"The rhythm," said Goethe, "is an unconscious result of the poetic mood. +If one should stop to consider it mechanically, when about to write a +poem, one would become bewildered and accomplish nothing of real +poetical value."--_Ibid_. + +"_All that is poetic in character should be rythmically treated_! Such +is my conviction; and if even a sort of poetic prose should be gradually +introduced, it would only show that the distinction between prose and +poetry had been completely lost sight of."--_Goethe to Schiller_, 1797. + +Tycho Mommsen, in his excellent essay, _Die Kunst des Deutschen +Uebersetzers aus neueren Sprachen_, goes so far as to say: "The metrical +or rhymed modelling of a poetical work is so essentially the germ of its +being, that, rather than by giving it up, we might hope to construct a +similar work of art before the eyes of our countrymen, by giving up or +changing the substance. The immeasurable result which has followed works +wherein the form has been retained--such as the Homer of Voss, and the +Shakespeare of Tieck and Schlegel--is an incontrovertible evidence of +the vitality of the endeavor." + +[C] "Goethe's poems exercise a great sway over me, not only by their +meaning, but also by their rhythm. It is a language which stimulates me +to composition."--_Beethoven_. + +The various theories of translation from the Greek and Latin poets have +been admirably stated by Dryden in his Preface to the "Translations from +Ovid's Epistles," and I do not wish to continue the endless +discussion,--especially as our literature needs examples, not opinions. +A recent expression, however, carries with it so much authority, that I +feel bound to present some considerations which the accomplished scholar +seems to have overlooked. Mr. Lewes[D] justly says: "The effect of +poetry is a compound of music and suggestion; this music and this +suggestion are intermingled in words, which to alter is to alter the +effect. For words in poetry are not, as in prose, simple representatives +of objects and ideas: they are parts of an organic whole,--they are +tones in the harmony." He thereupon illustrates the effect of +translation by changing certain well-known English stanzas into others, +equivalent in meaning, but lacking their felicity of words, their grace +and melody. I cannot accept this illustration as valid, because Mr. +Lewes purposely omits the very quality which an honest translator should +exhaust his skill in endeavoring to reproduce. He turns away from the +_one best_ word or phrase in the English lines he quotes, whereas the +translator seeks precisely that one best word or phrase (having _all_ +the resources of his language at command), to represent what is said in +_another_ language. More than this, his task is not simply mechanical: +he must feel, and be guided by, a secondary inspiration. Surrendering +himself to the full possession of the spirit which shall speak through +him, he receives, also, a portion of the same creative power. Mr. Lewes +reaches this conclusion: "If, therefore, we reflect what a poem _Faust_ +is, and that it contains almost every variety of style and metre, it +will be tolerably evident that no one unacquainted with the original can +form an adequate idea of it from translation,"[E] which is certainly +correct of any translation wherein something of the rhythmical variety +and beauty of the original is not retained. That very much of the +rhythmical character may be retained in English, was long ago shown by +Mr. Carlyle,[F] in the passages which he translated, both literally and +rhythmically, from the _Helena_ (Part Second). In fact, we have so many +instances of the possibility of reciprocally transferring the finest +qualities of English and German poetry, that there is no sufficient +excuse for an unmetrical translation of _Faust_. I refer especially to +such subtile and melodious lyrics as "The Castle by the Sea," of Uhland, +and the "Silent Land" of Salis, translated by Mr. Longfellow; Goethe's +"Minstrel" and "Coptic Song," by Dr. Hedge; Heine's "Two Grenadiers," by +Dr. Furness and many of Heine's songs by Mr Leland; and also to the +German translations of English lyrics, by Freiligrath and Strodtmann.[G] + + +[D] Life of Goethe (Book VI.). + +[E] Mr. Lewes gives the following advice: "The English reader would +perhaps best succeed who should first read Dr. Anster's brilliant +paraphrase, and then carefully go through Hayward's prose translation." +This is singularly at variance with the view he has just expressed. Dr. +Anster's version is an almost incredible dilution of the original, +written in _other_ metres; while Hayward's entirely omits the element of +poetry. + +[F] Foreign Review, 1828. + +[G] When Freiligrath can thus give us Walter Scott:-- + +"Kommt, wie der Wind kommt, Wenn Wälder erzittern Kommt, wie die +Brandung Wenn Flotten zersplittern! Schnell heran, schnell herab, +Schneller kommt Al'e!--Häuptling und Bub' und Knapp, Herr und Vasalle!" + +or Strodtmann thus reproduce Tennyson:-- + +"Es fällt der Strahl auf Burg und Thal, Und schneeige Gipfel, reich an +Sagen; Viel' Lichter wehn auf blauen Seen, Bergab die Wasserstürze +jagen! Blas, Hüfthorn, blas, in Wiederhall erschallend: Blas, +Horn--antwortet, Echos, hallend, hallend, hallend!" + +--it must be a dull ear which would be satisfied with the omission of +rhythm and rhyme. + +I have a more serious objection, however, to urge against Mr. Hayward's +prose translation. Where all the restraints of verse are flung aside, we +should expect, at least, as accurate a reproduction of the sense, +spirit, and tone of the original, as the genius of our language will +permit. So far from having given us such a reproduction, Mr. Hayward not +only occasionally mistakes the exact meaning of the German text,[H] but, +wherever two phrases may be used to express the meaning with equal +fidelity, he very frequently selects that which has the less grace, +strength, or beauty.[I] + +[H] On his second page, the line _Mein Lied ertönt der unbekannten +Menge_, "My song sounds to the unknown multitude," is translated: "My +_sorrow_ voices itself to the strange throng." Other English +translators, I notice, have followed Mr. Hayward in mistaking _Lied_ for +_Leid_. + +I: + I take but one out of numerous instances, for the sake of +illustration. The close of the Soldier's Song (Part I. Scene II.) is:-- + + "Kühn is das Mühen, + Herrlich der Lohn! + Und die Soldaten + Ziehen davon." + +Literally: + + Bold is the endeavor, + Splendid the pay! + And the soldiers + March away. + +This Mr. Hayward translates:-- + + Bold the adventure, + Noble the reward-- + And the soldiers + Are off. + +For there are few things which may not be said, in English, in a twofold +manner,--one poetic, and the other prosaic. In German, equally, a word +which in ordinary use has a bare prosaic character may receive a fairer +and finer quality from its place in verse. The prose translator should +certainly be able to feel the manifestation of this law in both +languages, and should so choose his words as to meet their reciprocal +requirements. A man, however, who is not keenly sensible to the power +and beauty and value of rhythm, is likely to overlook these delicate yet +most necessary distinctions. The author's thought is stripped of a last +grace in passing through his mind, and frequently presents very much the +same resemblance to the original as an unhewn shaft to the fluted +column. Mr. Hayward unconsciously illustrates his lack of a refined +appreciation of verse, "in giving," as he says, "_a sort of rhythmical +arrangement_ to the lyrical parts," his object being "to convey some +notion of the variety of versification which forms one great charm of +the poem." A literal translation is always possible in the unrhymed +passages; but even here Mr. Hayward's ear did not dictate to him the +necessity of preserving the original rhythm. + +While, therefore, I heartily recognize his lofty appreciation of +_Faust_,--while I honor him for the patient and conscientious labor he +has bestowed upon his translation,--I cannot but feel that he has +himself illustrated the unsoundness of his argument. Nevertheless, the +circumstance that his prose translation of _Faust_ has received so much +acceptance proves those qualities of the original work which cannot be +destroyed by a test so violent. From the cold bare outline thus +produced, the reader unacquainted with the German language would +scarcely guess what glow of color, what richness of changeful life, what +fluent grace and energy of movement have been lost in the process. We +must, of course, gratefully receive such an outline, where a nearer +approach to the form of the original is impossible, but, until the +latter has been demonstrated, we are wrong to remain content with the +cheaper substitute. + +It seems to me that in all discussions upon this subject the capacities +of the English language have received but scanty justice. The +intellectual tendencies of our race have always been somewhat +conservative, and its standards of literary taste or belief, once set +up, are not varied without a struggle. The English ear is suspicious of +new metres and unaccustomed forms of expression: there are critical +detectives on the track of every author, and a violation of the accepted +canons is followed by a summons to judgment. Thus the tendency is to +contract rather than to expand the acknowledged excellences of the +language.[J] + +[J] I cannot resist the temptation of quoting the following passage from +Jacob Grimm: "No one of all the modern languages has acquired a greater +force and strength than the English, through the derangement and +relinquishment of its ancient laws of sound. The unteachable +(nevertheless _learnable_) profusion of its middle-tones has conferred +upon it an intrinsic power of expression, such as no other human tongue +ever possessed. Its entire, thoroughly intellectual and wonderfully +successful foundation and perfected development issued from a marvelous +union of the two noblest tongues of Europe, the Germanic and the +Romanic. Their mutual relation in the English language is well known, +since the former furnished chiefly the material basis, while the latter +added the intellectual conceptions. The English language, by and through +which the greatest and most eminent poet of modern times--as contrasted +with ancient classical poetry--(of course I can refer only to +Shakespeare) was begotten and nourished, has a just claim to be called a +language of the world; and it appears to be destined, like the English +race, to a higher and broader sway in all quarters of the earth. For in +richness, in compact adjustment of parts, and in pure intelligence, none +of the living languages can be compared with it,--not even our German, +which is divided even as we are divided, and which must cast off many +imperfections before it can boldly enter on its career."--_Ueber den +Ursprung der Sprache_. + +The difficulties in the way of a nearly literal translation of _Faust_ +in the original metres have been exaggerated, because certain affinities +between the two languages have not been properly considered. With all +the splendor of versification in the work, it contains but few metres of +which the English tongue is not equally capable. Hood has familiarized +us with dactylic (triple) rhymes, and they are remarkably abundant and +skillful in Mr. Lowell's "Fable for the Critics": even the unrhymed +iambic hexameter of the _Helena_ occurs now and then in Milton's _Samson +Agonistes_. It is true that the metrical foot into which the German +language most naturally falls is the _trochaic_, while in English it is +the _iambic_: it is true that German is rich, involved, and tolerant of +new combinations, while English is simple, direct, and rather shy of +compounds; but precisely these differences are so modified in the German +of _Faust_ that there is a mutual approach of the two languages. In +_Faust_, the iambic measure predominates; the style is compact; the many +licenses which the author allows himself are all directed towards a +shorter mode of construction. On the other hand, English metre compels +the use of inversions, admits many verbal liberties prohibited to prose, +and so inclines towards various flexible features of its sister-tongue +that many lines of _Faust_ may be repeated in English without the +slightest change of meaning, measure, or rhyme. There are words, it is +true, with so delicate a bloom upon them that it can in no wise be +preserved; but even such words will always lose less when they carry +with them their rhythmical atmosphere. The flow of Goethe's verse is +sometimes so similar to that of the corresponding English metre, that +not only its harmonies and caesural pauses, but even its punctuation, +may be easily retained. + +I am satisfied that the difference between a translation of _Faust_ in +prose or metre is chiefly one of labor,--and of that labor which is +successful in proportion as it is joyously performed. My own task has +been cheered by the discovery, that the more closely I reproduced the +language of the original, the more of its rhythmical character was +transferred at the same time. If, now and then, there was an inevitable +alternative of meaning or music, I gave the preference to the former. By +the term "original metres" I do not mean a rigid, unyielding adherence +to every foot, line, and rhyme of the German original, although this has +very nearly been accomplished. Since the greater part of the work is +written in an irregular measure, the lines varying from three to six +feet, and the rhymes arranged according to the author's will, I do not +consider that an occasional change in the number of feet, or order of +rhyme, is any violation of the metrical plan. The single slight liberty +I have taken with the lyrical passages is in Margaret's song,--"The King +of Thule,"--in which, by omitting the alternate feminine rhymes, yet +retaining the metre, I was enabled to make the translation strictly +literal. If, in two or three instances, I have left a line unrhymed, I +have balanced the omission by giving rhymes to other lines which stand +unrhymed in the original text. For the same reason, I make no apology +for the imperfect rhymes, which are frequently a translation as well as +a necessity. With all its supreme qualities, _Faust_ is far from being a +technically perfect work.[K] + +[K] "At present, everything runs in technical grooves, and the critical +gentlemen begin to wrangle whether in a rhyme an _s_ should correspond +with an _s_ and not with _sz_. If I were young and reckless enough, I +would purposely offend all such technical caprices: I would use +alliteration, assonance, false rhyme, just according to my own will or +convenience--but, at the same time, I would attend to the main thing, +and endeavor to say so many good things that every one would be +attracted to read and remember them."--_Goethe_, in 1831. + +The feminine and dactylic rhymes, which have been for the most part +omitted by all metrical translators except Mr. Brooks, are +indispensable. The characteristic tone of many passages would be nearly +lost, without them. They give spirit and grace to the dialogue, point to +the aphoristic portions (especially in the Second Part), and an +ever-changing music to the lyrical passages. The English language, +though not so rich as the German in such rhymes, is less deficient than +is generally supposed. The difficulty to be overcome is one of +construction rather than of the vocabulary. The present participle can +only be used to a limited extent, on account of its weak termination, +and the want of an accusative form to the noun also restricts the +arrangement of words in English verse. I cannot hope to have been always +successful; but I have at least labored long and patiently, bearing +constantly in mind not only the meaning of the original and the +mechanical structure of the lines, but also that subtile and haunting +music which seems to govern rhythm instead of being governed by it. + +B.T. + +[Illustration] + + + + +AN GOETHE + +_Erhabener Geist, im Geisterreich verloren! +Wo immer Deine lichte Wohnung sey, +Zum höh'ren Schaffen bist Du neugeboren, +Und singest dort die voll're Litanei. +Von jenem Streben das Du auserkoren, +Vom reinsten Aether, drin Du athmest frei, +O neige Dich zu gnädigem Erwiedern +Des letzten Wiederhalls von Deinen Liedern! + + +II + +Den alten Musen die bestäubten Kronen +Nahmst Du, zu neuem Glanz, mit kühner Hand: +Du löst die Räthsel ältester Aeonen +Durch jüngeren Glauben, helleren Verstand, +Und machst, wo rege Menschengeister wohnen, +Die ganze Erde Dir zum Vaterland; +Und Deine Jünger sehn in Dir, verwundert, +Verkörpert schon das werdende Jahrhundert. + + +III + +Was Du gesungen, Aller Lust und Klagen, +Des Lebens Wiedersprüche, neu vermählt,-- +Die Harfe tausendstimmig frisch geschlagen, +Die Shakspeare einst, die einst Homer gewählt,-- +Darf ich in fremde Klänge übertragen +Das Alles, wo so Mancher schon gefehlt? +Lass Deinen Geist in meiner Stimme klingen, +Und was Du sangst, lass mich es Dir nachsingen!_ + +B.T. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration: =Dedication=] + +Again ye come, ye hovering Forms! I find ye, +As early to my clouded sight ye shone! +Shall I attempt, this once, to seize and bind ye? +Still o'er my heart is that illusion thrown? +Ye crowd more near! Then, be the reign assigned ye, +And sway me from your misty, shadowy zone! +My bosom thrills, with youthful passion shaken, +From magic airs that round your march awaken. + +Of joyous days ye bring the blissful vision; +The dear, familiar phantoms rise again, +And, like an old and half-extinct tradition, +First Love returns, with Friendship in his train. +Renewed is Pain: with mournful repetition +Life tracks his devious, labyrinthine chain, +And names the Good, whose cheating fortune tore them +From happy hours, and left me to deplore them. + +They hear no longer these succeeding measures, +The souls, to whom my earliest songs I sang: + +Dispersed the friendly troop, with all its pleasures, +And still, alas! the echoes first that rang! +I bring the unknown multitude my treasures; +Their very plaudits give my heart a pang, +And those beside, whose joy my Song so flattered, +If still they live, wide through the world are scattered. + +And grasps me now a long-unwonted yearning +For that serene and solemn Spirit-Land: +My song, to faint Aeolian murmurs turning, +Sways like a harp-string by the breezes fanned. +I thrill and tremble; tear on tear is burning, +And the stern heart is tenderly unmanned. +What I possess, I see far distant lying, +And what I lost, grows real and undying. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration: =Prelude at the Theatre=] + + + +MANAGER DRAMATIC POET MERRY-ANDREW + +MANAGER + +You two, who oft a helping hand +Have lent, in need and tribulation. +Come, let me know your expectation +Of this, our enterprise, in German land! +I wish the crowd to feel itself well treated, +Especially since it lives and lets me live; +The posts are set, the booth of boards completed. +And each awaits the banquet I shall give. +Already there, with curious eyebrows raised, +They sit sedate, and hope to be amazed. +I know how one the People's taste may flatter, +Yet here a huge embarrassment I feel: +What they're accustomed to, is no great matter, +But then, alas! they've read an awful deal. +How shall we plan, that all be fresh and new,-- +Important matter, yet attractive too? +For 'tis my pleasure-to behold them surging, +When to our booth the current sets apace, +And with tremendous, oft-repeated urging, +Squeeze onward through the narrow gate of grace: +By daylight even, they push and cram in +To reach the seller's box, a fighting host, +And as for bread, around a baker's door, in famine, +To get a ticket break their necks almost. +This miracle alone can work the Poet +On men so various: now, my friend, pray show it. + + +POET + + +Speak not to me of yonder motley masses, +Whom but to see, puts out the fire of Song! +Hide from my view the surging crowd that passes, +And in its whirlpool forces us along! +No, lead me where some heavenly silence glasses +The purer joys that round the Poet throng,-- +Where Love and Friendship still divinely fashion +The bonds that bless, the wreaths that crown his passion! +Ah, every utterance from the depths of feeling +The timid lips have stammeringly expressed,-- +Now failing, now, perchance, success revealing,-- +Gulps the wild Moment in its greedy breast; +Or oft, reluctant years its warrant sealing, +Its perfect stature stands at last confessed! +What dazzles, for the Moment spends its spirit: +What's genuine, shall Posterity inherit. + + +MERRY-ANDREW + + +Posterity! Don't name the word to me! +If _I_ should choose to preach Posterity, +Where would you get contemporary fun? +That men _will_ have it, there's no blinking: +A fine young fellow's presence, to my thinking, +Is something worth, to every one. +Who genially his nature can outpour, +Takes from the People's moods no irritation; +The wider circle he acquires, the more +Securely works his inspiration. +Then pluck up heart, and give us sterling coin! +Let Fancy be with her attendants fitted,-- +Sense, Reason, Sentiment, and Passion join,-- +But have a care, lest Folly be omitted! + +MANAGER + +Chiefly, enough of incident prepare! +They come to look, and they prefer to stare. +Reel off a host of threads before their faces, +So that they gape in stupid wonder: then +By sheer diffuseness you have won their graces, +And are, at once, most popular of men. +Only by mass you touch the mass; for any +Will finally, himself, his bit select: +Who offers much, brings something unto many, +And each goes home content with the effect, +If you've a piece, why, just in pieces give it: +A hash, a stew, will bring success, believe it! +'Tis easily displayed, and easy to invent. +What use, a Whole compactly to present? +Your hearers pick and pluck, as soon as they receive it! + +POET + +You do not feel, how such a trade debases; +How ill it suits the Artist, proud and true! +The botching work each fine pretender traces +Is, I perceive, a principle with you. + +MANAGER + +Such a reproach not in the least offends; +A man who some result intends +Must use the tools that best are fitting. +Reflect, soft wood is given to you for splitting, +And then, observe for whom you write! +If one comes bored, exhausted quite, +Another, satiate, leaves the banquet's tapers, +And, worst of all, full many a wight +Is fresh from reading of the daily papers. +Idly to us they come, as to a masquerade, +Mere curiosity their spirits warming: +The ladies with themselves, and with their finery, aid, +Without a salary their parts performing. +What dreams are yours in high poetic places? +You're pleased, forsooth, full houses to behold? +Draw near, and view your patrons' faces! +The half are coarse, the half are cold. +One, when the play is out, goes home to cards; +A wild night on a wench's breast another chooses: +Why should you rack, poor, foolish bards, +For ends like these, the gracious Muses? +I tell you, give but more--more, ever more, they ask: +Thus shall you hit the mark of gain and glory. +Seek to confound your auditory! +To satisfy them is a task.-- +What ails you now? Is't suffering, or pleasure? + +POET + +Go, find yourself a more obedient slave! +What! shall the Poet that which Nature gave, +The highest right, supreme Humanity, +Forfeit so wantonly, to swell your treasure? +Whence o'er the heart his empire free? +The elements of Life how conquers he? +Is't not his heart's accord, urged outward far and dim, +To wind the world in unison with him? +When on the spindle, spun to endless distance, +By Nature's listless hand the thread is twirled, +And the discordant tones of all existence +In sullen jangle are together hurled, +Who, then, the changeless orders of creation +Divides, and kindles into rhythmic dance? +Who brings the One to join the general ordination, +Where it may throb in grandest consonance? +Who bids the storm to passion stir the bosom? +In brooding souls the sunset burn above? +Who scatters every fairest April blossom +Along the shining path of Love? +Who braids the noteless leaves to crowns, requiting +Desert with fame, in Action's every field? +Who makes Olympus sure, the Gods uniting? +The might of Man, as in the Bard revealed. + +MERRY-ANDREW + +So, these fine forces, in conjunction, +Propel the high poetic function, +As in a love-adventure they might play! +You meet by accident; you feel, you stay, +And by degrees your heart is tangled; +Bliss grows apace, and then its course is jangled; +You're ravished quite, then comes a touch of woe, +And there's a neat romance, completed ere you know! +Let us, then, such a drama give! +Grasp the exhaustless life that all men live! +Each shares therein, though few may comprehend: +Where'er you touch, there's interest without end. +In motley pictures little light, +Much error, and of truth a glimmering mite, +Thus the best beverage is supplied, +Whence all the world is cheered and edified. +Then, at your play, behold the fairest flower +Of youth collect, to hear the revelation! +Each tender soul, with sentimental power, +Sucks melancholy food from your creation; +And now in this, now that, the leaven works. +For each beholds what in his bosom lurks. +They still are moved at once to weeping or to laughter, +Still wonder at your flights, enjoy the show they see: +A mind, once formed, is never suited after; +One yet in growth will ever grateful be. + +POET + +Then give me back that time of pleasures, +While yet in joyous growth I sang,-- +When, like a fount, the crowding measures +Uninterrupted gushed and sprang! +Then bright mist veiled the world before me, +In opening buds a marvel woke, +As I the thousand blossoms broke, +Which every valley richly bore me! +I nothing had, and yet enough for youth-- +Joy in Illusion, ardent thirst for Truth. +Give, unrestrained, the old emotion, +The bliss that touched the verge of pain, +The strength of Hate, Love's deep devotion,-- +O, give me back my youth again! + +MERRY ANDREW + +Youth, good my friend, you certainly require +When foes in combat sorely press you; +When lovely maids, in fond desire, +Hang on your bosom and caress you; +When from the hard-won goal the wreath +Beckons afar, the race awaiting; +When, after dancing out your breath, +You pass the night in dissipating:-- +But that familiar harp with soul +To play,--with grace and bold expression, +And towards a self-erected goal +To walk with many a sweet digression,-- +This, aged Sirs, belongs to you, +And we no less revere you for that reason: +Age childish makes, they say, but 'tis not true; +We're only genuine children still, in Age's season! + + +MANAGER + +The words you've bandied are sufficient; +'Tis deeds that I prefer to see: +In compliments you're both proficient, +But might, the while, more useful be. +What need to talk of Inspiration? +'Tis no companion of Delay. +If Poetry be your vocation, +Let Poetry your will obey! +Full well you know what here is wanting; +The crowd for strongest drink is panting, +And such, forthwith, I'd have you brew. +What's left undone to-day, To-morrow will not do. +Waste not a day in vain digression: +With resolute, courageous trust +Seize every possible impression, +And make it firmly your possession; +You'll then work on, because you must. +Upon our German stage, you know it, +Each tries his hand at what he will; +So, take of traps and scenes your fill, +And all you find, be sure to show it! +Use both the great and lesser heavenly light,-- +Squander the stars in any number, +Beasts, birds, trees, rocks, and all such lumber, +Fire, water, darkness, Day and Night! +Thus, in our booth's contracted sphere, +The circle of Creation will appear, +And move, as we deliberately impel, +From Heaven, across the World, to Hell! +[Illustration] +[Illustration] + +PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN + +THE LORD THE HEAVENLY HOST _Afterwards_ +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_The_ THREE ARCHANGELS _come forward_.) + + +RAPHAEL + +The sun-orb sings, in emulation, +'Mid brother-spheres, his ancient round: +His path predestined through Creation +He ends with step of thunder-sound. +The angels from his visage splendid +Draw power, whose measure none can say; +The lofty works, uncomprehended, +Are bright as on the earliest day. + + +GABRIEL + +And swift, and swift beyond conceiving, +The splendor of the world goes round, +Day's Eden-brightness still relieving +The awful Night's intense profound: +The ocean-tides in foam are breaking, +Against the rocks' deep bases hurled, +And both, the spheric race partaking, +Eternal, swift, are onward whirled! + + +MICHAEL + +And rival storms abroad are surging +From sea to land, from land to sea. +A chain of deepest action forging +Round all, in wrathful energy. +There flames a desolation, blazing +Before the Thunder's crashing way: +Yet, Lord, Thy messengers are praising +The gentle movement of Thy Day. + + +THE THREE + +Though still by them uncomprehended, +From these the angels draw their power, +And all Thy works, sublime and splendid, +Are bright as in Creation's hour. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Since Thou, O Lord, deign'st to approach again +And ask us how we do, in manner kindest, +And heretofore to meet myself wert fain, +Among Thy menials, now, my face Thou findest. +Pardon, this troop I cannot follow after +With lofty speech, though by them scorned and spurned: +My pathos certainly would move Thy laughter, +If Thou hadst not all merriment unlearned. +Of suns and worlds I've nothing to be quoted; +How men torment themselves, is all I've noted. +The little god o' the world sticks to the same old way, +And is as whimsical as on Creation's day. +Life somewhat better might content him, +But for the gleam of heavenly light which Thou hast lent him: +He calls it Reason--thence his power's increased, +To be far beastlier than any beast. +Saving Thy Gracious Presence, he to me +A long-legged grasshopper appears to be, +That springing flies, and flying springs, +And in the grass the same old ditty sings. +Would he still lay among the grass he grows in! +Each bit of dung he seeks, to stick his nose in. + + +THE LORD + +Hast thou, then, nothing more to mention? +Com'st ever, thus, with ill intention? +Find'st nothing right on earth, eternally? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No, Lord! I find things, there, still bad as they can be. +Man's misery even to pity moves my nature; +I've scarce the heart to plague the wretched creature. + + +THE LORD + +Know'st Faust? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The Doctor Faust? + + +THE LORD + +My servant, he! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Forsooth! He serves you after strange devices: +No earthly meat or drink the fool suffices: +His spirit's ferment far aspireth; +Half conscious of his frenzied, crazed unrest, +The fairest stars from Heaven he requireth, +From Earth the highest raptures and the best, +And all the Near and Far that he desireth +Fails to subdue the tumult of his breast. + + +THE LORD + +Though still confused his service unto Me, +I soon shall lead him to a clearer morning. +Sees not the gardener, even while buds his tree, +Both flower and fruit the future years adorning? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What will you bet? There's still a chance to gain him, +If unto me full leave you give, +Gently upon _my_ road to train him! + + +THE LORD + +As long as he on earth shall live, +So long I make no prohibition. +While Man's desires and aspirations stir, +He cannot choose but err. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My thanks! I find the dead no acquisition, +And never cared to have them in my keeping. +I much prefer the cheeks where ruddy blood is leaping, +And when a corpse approaches, close my house: +It goes with me, as with the cat the mouse. + + +THE LORD + +Enough! What thou hast asked is granted. +Turn off this spirit from his fountain-head; +To trap him, let thy snares be planted, +And him, with thee, be downward led; +Then stand abashed, when thou art forced to say: +A good man, through obscurest aspiration, +Has still an instinct of the one true way. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Agreed! But 'tis a short probation. +About my bet I feel no trepidation. +If I fulfill my expectation, +You'll let me triumph with a swelling breast: +Dust shall he eat, and with a zest, +As did a certain snake, my near relation. + + +THE LORD + +Therein thou'rt free, according to thy merits; +The like of thee have never moved My hate. +Of all the bold, denying Spirits, +The waggish knave least trouble doth create. +Man's active nature, flagging, seeks too soon the level; +Unqualified repose he learns to crave; +Whence, willingly, the comrade him I gave, +Who works, excites, and must create, as Devil. +But ye, God's sons in love and duty, +Enjoy the rich, the ever-living Beauty! +Creative Power, that works eternal schemes, +Clasp you in bonds of love, relaxing never, +And what in wavering apparition gleams +Fix in its place with thoughts that stand forever! + + +(_Heaven closes: the_ ARCHANGELS _separate_.) + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_solus_) + +I like, at times, to hear The Ancient's word, +And have a care to be most civil: +It's really kind of such a noble Lord +So humanly to gossip with the Devil! +[Illustration] +[Illustration] + + + + +FIRST PART OF THE TRAGEDY + +I + +NIGHT + +(_A lofty-arched, narrow, Gothic chamber_. FAUST, _in a chair at his +desk, restless_.) + + +FAUST + +I've studied now Philosophy +And Jurisprudence, Medicine,-- +And even, alas! Theology,-- +From end to end, with labor keen; +And here, poor fool! with all my lore +I stand, no wiser than before: +I'm Magister--yea, Doctor--hight, +And straight or cross-wise, wrong or right, +These ten years long, with many woes, +I've led my scholars by the nose,-- +And see, that nothing can be known! +_That_ knowledge cuts me to the bone. +I'm cleverer, true, than those fops of teachers, +Doctors and Magisters, Scribes and Preachers; +Neither scruples nor doubts come now to smite me, +Nor Hell nor Devil can longer affright me. + +For this, all pleasure am I foregoing; +I do not pretend to aught worth knowing, +I do not pretend I could be a teacher +To help or convert a fellow-creature. +Then, too, I've neither lands nor gold, +Nor the world's least pomp or honor hold-- +No dog would endure such a curst existence! +Wherefore, from Magic I seek assistance, +That many a secret perchance I reach +Through spirit-power and spirit-speech, +And thus the bitter task forego +Of saying the things I do not know,-- +That I may detect the inmost force +Which binds the world, and guides its course; +Its germs, productive powers explore, +And rummage in empty words no more! + +O full and splendid Moon, whom I +Have, from this desk, seen climb the sky +So many a midnight,--would thy glow +For the last time beheld my woe! +Ever thine eye, most mournful friend, +O'er books and papers saw me bend; +But would that I, on mountains grand, +Amid thy blessed light could stand, +With spirits through mountain-caverns hover, +Float in thy twilight the meadows over, +And, freed from the fumes of lore that swathe me, +To health in thy dewy fountains bathe me! + +Ah, me! this dungeon still I see. +This drear, accursed masonry, +Where even the welcome daylight strains +But duskly through the painted panes. +Hemmed in by many a toppling heap +Of books worm-eaten, gray with dust, +Which to the vaulted ceiling creep, +Against the smoky paper thrust,-- +With glasses, boxes, round me stacked, +And instruments together hurled, +Ancestral lumber, stuffed and packed-- +Such is my world: and what a world! + +And do I ask, wherefore my heart +Falters, oppressed with unknown needs? +Why some inexplicable smart +All movement of my life impedes? +Alas! in living Nature's stead, +Where God His human creature set, +In smoke and mould the fleshless dead +And bones of beasts surround me yet! + +Fly! Up, and seek the broad, free land! +And this one Book of Mystery +From Nostradamus' very hand, +Is't not sufficient company? +When I the starry courses know, +And Nature's wise instruction seek, +With light of power my soul shall glow, +As when to spirits spirits speak. +Tis vain, this empty brooding here, +Though guessed the holy symbols be: +Ye, Spirits, come--ye hover near-- +Oh, if you hear me, answer me! + +(_He opens the Book, and perceives the sign of the Macrocosm_.) + +Ha! what a sudden rapture leaps from this +I view, through all my senses swiftly flowing! +I feel a youthful, holy, vital bliss +In every vein and fibre newly glowing. +Was it a God, who traced this sign, +With calm across my tumult stealing, +My troubled heart to joy unsealing, +With impulse, mystic and divine, +The powers of Nature here, around my path, revealing? +Am I a God?--so clear mine eyes! +In these pure features I behold +Creative Nature to my soul unfold. +What says the sage, now first I recognize: +"The spirit-world no closures fasten; +Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead: +Disciple, up! untiring, hasten +To bathe thy breast in morning-red!" + +(_He contemplates the sign_.) + +How each the Whole its substance gives, +Each in the other works and lives! +Like heavenly forces rising and descending, +Their golden urns reciprocally lending, +With wings that winnow blessing +From Heaven through Earth I see them pressing, +Filling the All with harmony unceasing! +How grand a show! but, ah! a show alone. +Thee, boundless Nature, how make thee my own? +Where you, ye beasts? Founts of all Being, shining, +Whereon hang Heaven's and Earth's desire, +Whereto our withered hearts aspire,-- +Ye flow, ye feed: and am I vainly pining? + +(_He turns the leaves impatiently, and perceives the sign of the +Earth-Spirit_.) + +How otherwise upon me works this sign! +Thou, Spirit of the Earth, art nearer: +Even now my powers are loftier, clearer; +I glow, as drunk with new-made wine: +New strength and heart to meet the world incite me, +The woe of earth, the bliss of earth, invite me, +And though the shock of storms may smite me, +No crash of shipwreck shall have power to fright me! +Clouds gather over me-- +The moon conceals her light-- +The lamp's extinguished!-- +Mists rise,--red, angry rays are darting +Around my head!--There falls +A horror from the vaulted roof, +And seizes me! +I feel thy presence, Spirit I invoke! +Reveal thyself! +Ha! in my heart what rending stroke! +With new impulsion +My senses heave in this convulsion! +I feel thee draw my heart, absorb, exhaust me: +Thou must! thou must! and though my life it cost me! + +(_He seizes the book, and mysteriously pronounces the sign of +the Spirit. A ruddy flame flashes: the Spirit appears in +the flame_.) + + +SPIRIT + +Who calls me? + + +FAUST (_with averted head_) + +Terrible to see! + + +SPIRIT + +Me hast thou long with might attracted, +Long from my sphere thy food exacted, +And now-- + +FAUST + + Woe! I endure not thee! + + +SPIRIT + +To view me is thine aspiration, +My voice to hear, my countenance to see; +Thy powerful yearning moveth me, +Here am I!--what mean perturbation +Thee, superhuman, shakes? Thy soul's high calling, where? +Where is the breast, which from itself a world did bear, +And shaped and cherished--which with joy expanded, +To be our peer, with us, the Spirits, banded? +Where art thou, Faust, whose voice has pierced to me, +Who towards me pressed with all thine energy? +_He_ art thou, who, my presence breathing, seeing, +Trembles through all the depths of being, +A writhing worm, a terror-stricken form? + + +FAUST + +Thee, form of flame, shall I then fear? +Yes, I am Faust: I am thy peer! + + +SPIRIT + + In the tides of Life, in Action's storm, + A fluctuant wave, + A shuttle free, + Birth and the Grave, + An eternal sea, + A weaving, flowing + Life, all-glowing, +Thus at Time's humming loom 'tis my hand prepares +The garment of Life which the Deity wears! + + +FAUST + +Thou, who around the wide world wendest, +Thou busy Spirit, how near I feel to thee! + + +SPIRIT + +Thou'rt like the Spirit which thou comprehendest, +Not me! + +(_Disappears_.) + + +FAUST (_overwhelmed_) + +Not thee! +Whom then? +I, image of the Godhead! +Not even like thee! + +(_A knock_). + +O Death!--I know it--'tis my Famulus! +My fairest luck finds no fruition: +In all the fullness of my vision +The soulless sneak disturbs me thus! + +(_Enter_ WAGNER_, in dressing-gown and night-cap, a lamp in +his hand. _FAUST_ turns impatiently_.) + + +WAGNER + +Pardon, I heard your declamation; +'Twas sure an old Greek tragedy you read? +In such an art I crave some preparation, +Since now it stands one in good stead. +I've often heard it said, a preacher +Might learn, with a comedian for a teacher. + + +FAUST + +Yes, when the priest comedian is by nature, +As haply now and then the case may be. + + +WAGNER + +Ah, when one studies thus, a prisoned creature, +That scarce the world on holidays can see,-- +Scarce through a glass, by rare occasion, +How shall one lead it by persuasion? + + +FAUST + +You'll ne'er attain it, save you know the feeling, +Save from the soul it rises clear, +Serene in primal strength, compelling +The hearts and minds of all who hear. +You sit forever gluing, patching; +You cook the scraps from others' fare; +And from your heap of ashes hatching +A starveling flame, ye blow it bare! +Take children's, monkeys' gaze admiring, +If such your taste, and be content; +But ne'er from heart to heart you'll speak inspiring, +Save your own heart is eloquent! + + +WAGNER + +Yet through delivery orators succeed; +I feel that I am far behind, indeed. + + +FAUST + +Seek thou the honest recompense! +Beware, a tinkling fool to be! +With little art, clear wit and sense +Suggest their own delivery; +And if thou'rt moved to speak in earnest, +What need, that after words thou yearnest? +Yes, your discourses, with their glittering show, +Where ye for men twist shredded thought like paper, +Are unrefreshing as the winds that blow +The rustling leaves through chill autumnal vapor! + + +WAGNER + +Ah, God! but Art is long, +And Life, alas! is fleeting. +And oft, with zeal my critic-duties meeting, +In head and breast there's something wrong. + +How hard it is to compass the assistance +Whereby one rises to the source! +And, haply, ere one travels half the course +Must the poor devil quit existence. + + +FAUST + +Is parchment, then, the holy fount before thee, +A draught wherefrom thy thirst forever slakes? +No true refreshment can restore thee, +Save what from thine own soul spontaneous breaks. + + +WAGNER + +Pardon! a great delight is granted +When, in the spirit of the ages planted, +We mark how, ere our times, a sage has thought, +And then, how far his work, and grandly, we have brought. + + +FAUST + +O yes, up to the stars at last! +Listen, my friend: the ages that are past +Are now a book with seven seals protected: +What you the Spirit of the Ages call +Is nothing but the spirit of you all, +Wherein the Ages are reflected. +So, oftentimes, you miserably mar it! +At the first glance who sees it runs away. +An offal-barrel and a lumber-garret, +Or, at the best, a Punch-and-Judy play, +With maxims most pragmatical and hitting, +As in the mouths of puppets are befitting! + + +WAGNER + +But then, the world--the human heart and brain! +Of these one covets some slight apprehension. + + +FAUST + +Yes, of the kind which men attain! +Who dares the child's true name in public mention? +The few, who thereof something really learned, +Unwisely frank, with hearts that spurned concealing, +And to the mob laid bare each thought and feeling, +Have evermore been crucified and burned. +I pray you, Friend, 'tis now the dead of night; +Our converse here must be suspended. + + +WAGNER + +I would have shared your watches with delight, +That so our learned talk might be extended. +To-morrow, though, I'll ask, in Easter leisure, +This and the other question, at your pleasure. +Most zealously I seek for erudition: +Much do I know--but to know all is my ambition. + + [_Exit_. + + +FAUST (_solus_) + +That brain, alone, not loses hope, whose choice is +To stick in shallow trash forevermore,-- +Which digs with eager hand for buried ore, +And, when it finds an angle-worm, rejoices! + +Dare such a human voice disturb the flow, +Around me here, of spirit-presence fullest? +And yet, this once my thanks I owe +To thee, of all earth's sons the poorest, dullest! +For thou hast torn me from that desperate state +Which threatened soon to overwhelm my senses: +The apparition was so giant-great, +It dwarfed and withered all my soul's pretences! + +I, image of the Godhead, who began-- +Deeming Eternal Truth secure in nearness-- +To sun myself in heavenly light and clearness, +And laid aside the earthly man;— +I, more than Cherub, whose free force had planned +To flow through Nature’s veins in glad pulsation, +To reach beyond, enjoying in creation +The life of Gods, behold my expiation! +A thunder-word hath swept me from my stand.27 + +With thee I dare not venture to compare me. +Though I possessed the power to draw thee near me, +The power to keep thee was denied my hand. +When that ecstatic moment held me, +I felt myself so small, so great; +But thou hast ruthlessly repelled me +Back upon Man’s uncertain fate. +What shall I shun? Whose guidance borrow? +Shall I accept that stress and strife? +Ah! every deed of ours, no less than every sorrow, +Impedes the onward march of life. + +Some alien substance more and more is cleaving +To all the mind conceives of grand and fair; +When this world’s Good is won by our achieving, +The Better, then, is named a cheat and snare. +The fine emotions, whence our lives we mould, +Lie in the earthly tumult dumb and cold. +If hopeful Fancy once, in daring flight, +Her longings to the Infinite expanded, +Yet now a narrow space contents her quite, +Since Time’s wild wave so many a fortune stranded. +Care at the bottom of the heart is lurking: +Her secret pangs in silence working, +She, restless, rocks herself, disturbing joy and rest: +In newer masks her face is ever drest, +By turns as house and land, as wife and child, presented,— +As water, fire, as poison, steel: +We dread the blows we never feel, +And what we never lose is yet by us lamented! + +I am not like the Gods! That truth is felt too deep: +The worm am I, that in the dust doth creep,— +That, while in dust it lives and seeks its bread, +Is crushed and buried by the wanderer’s tread. + +Is not this dust, these walls within them hold, +The hundred shelves, which cramp and chain me, +The frippery, the trinkets thousandfold, +That in this mothy den restrain me? +Here shall I find the help I need? +Shall here a thousand volumes teach me only +That men, self-tortured, everywhere must bleed,— +And here and there one happy man sits lonely?28 +What mean’st thou by that grin, thou hollow skull, +Save that thy brain, like mine, a cloudy mirror, +Sought once the shining day, and then, in twilight dull,29 +Thirsting for Truth, went wretchedly to Error? +Ye instruments, forsooth, but jeer at me +With wheel and cog, and shapes uncouth of wonder; +I found the portal, you the keys should be; +Your wards are deftly wrought, but drive no bolts asunder! +Mysterious even in open day, +Nature retains her veil, despite our clamors: +That which she doth not willingly display +Cannot be wrenched from her with levers, screws, and hammers. +Ye ancient tools, whose use I never knew, +Here, since my father used ye, still ye moulder: +Thou, ancient scroll, hast worn thy smoky hue +Since at this desk the dim lamp wont to smoulder. +’T were better far, had I my little idly spent, +Than now to sweat beneath its burden, I confess it! +What from your fathers’ heritage is lent, +Earn it anew, to really possess it!30 +What serves not, is a sore impediment: +The Moment’s need creates the thing to serve and bless it! + +Yet, wherefore tums my gaze to yonder point so lightly? +Is yonder flask a magnet for mine eyes? +Whence, all around me, glows the air so brightly, +As when in woods at night the mellow moonbeam lies? + +I hail thee, wondrous, rarest vial! +I take thee down devoutly, for the trial: +Man’s art and wit I venerate in thee. +Thou summary of gentle slumber-juices, +Essence of deadly finest powers and uses, +Unto thy master show thy favor free! +I see thee, and the stings of pain diminish; +I grasp thee, and my struggles slowly finish: +My spirit’s flood-tide ebbeth more and more. +Out on the open ocean speeds my dreaming; +The glassy flood before my feet is gleaming, +A new day beckons to a newer shore! + +A fiery chariot, borne on buoyant pinions, +Sweeps near me now! I soon shall ready be +To pierce the ether’s high, unknown dominions, +To reach new spheres of pure activity! +This godlike rapture, this supreme existence, +Do I, but now a worm, deserve to track? +Yes, resolute to reach some brighter distance, +On Earth’s fair sun I tum my back31 +Yes, let me dare those gates to fling asunder, +Which every man would fain go slinking by! +’T is time, through deeds this word of truth to thunder: +That with the height of Gods Man’s dignity may vie! +Nor from that gloomy gulf to shrink affrighted, +Where Fancy doth herself to self-born pangs compel,— +To struggle toward that pass benighted, +Around whose narrow mouth flame all the fires of Hell,— +To take this step with cheerful resolution, +Though Nothingness should be the certain, swift conclusion! +And now come down, thou cup of crystal clearest! +Fresh from thine ancient cover thou appearest, +So many years forgotten to my thought! +Thou shon’st at old ancestral banquets cheery, +The solemn guests thou madest merry, +When one thy wassail to the other brought. +The rich and skilful figures o’er thee wrought, +The drinker’s duty, rhyme-wise to explain them, +Or in one breath below the mark to drain them, +From many a night of youth my memory caught. +Now to a neighbor shall I pass thee never, +Nor on thy curious art to test my wit endeavor, +Here is a juice whence sleep is swiftly born. +It fills with browner flood thy crystal hollow; +I chose, prepared it: thus I follow,— +With all my soul the final drink I swallow, +A solemn festal cup, a greeting to the morn! +[He sets the goblet to his mouth. +(Chime of bells and choral song.) + + +CHORUS OF ANGELS.32 +Christ is arisen! +Joy to the Mortal One, +Whom the unmerited, +Clinging, inherited +Needs did imprison. + + +FAUST. +What hollow humming, what a sharp, clear stroke, +Drives from my lip the goblet’s, at their meeting? +Announce the booming bells already woke +The first glad hour of Easter’s festal greeting? +Ye choirs, have ye begun the sweet, consoling chant, +Which, through the night of Death, the angels ministrant +Sang, God's new Covenant repeating? + + +CHORUS OF WOMEN + + With spices and precious + Balm, we arrayed him; + Faithful and gracious, + We tenderly laid him: + Linen to bind him + Cleanlily wound we: + Ah! when we would find him, + Christ no more found we! + + +CHORUS OF ANGELS + + Christ is ascended! + Bliss hath invested him,-- + Woes that molested him, + Trials that tested him, + Gloriously ended! + + +FAUST + +Why, here in dust, entice me with your spell, +Ye gentle, powerful sounds of Heaven? +Peal rather there, where tender natures dwell. +Your messages I hear, but faith has not been given; +The dearest child of Faith is Miracle. +I venture not to soar to yonder regions +Whence the glad tidings hither float; +And yet, from childhood up familiar with the note, +To Life it now renews the old allegiance. +Once Heavenly Love sent down a burning kiss +Upon my brow, in Sabbath silence holy; +And, filled with mystic presage, chimed the church-bell slowly, +And prayer dissolved me in a fervent bliss. +A sweet, uncomprehended yearning +Drove forth my feet through woods and meadows free, +And while a thousand tears were burning, +I felt a world arise for me. +These chants, to youth and all its sports appealing, +Proclaimed the Spring's rejoicing holiday; +And Memory holds me now, with childish feeling, +Back from the last, the solemn way. +Sound on, ye hymns of Heaven, so sweet and mild! +My tears gush forth: the Earth takes back her child! + + +CHORUS OF DISCIPLES + + Has He, victoriously, + Burst from the vaulted + Grave, and all-gloriously + Now sits exalted? + Is He, in glow of birth, + Rapture creative near? + Ah! to the woe of earth + Still are we native here. + We, his aspiring + Followers, Him we miss; + Weeping, desiring, + Master, Thy bliss! + +CHORUS OF ANGELS + + Christ is arisen, + Out of Corruption's womb: + Burst ye the prison, + Break from your gloom! + Praising and pleading him, + Lovingly needing him, + Brotherly feeding him, + Preaching and speeding him, + Blessing, succeeding Him, + Thus is the Master near,-- + Thus is He here! +[Illustration] + + + + +II + +BEFORE THE CITY-GATE + +(_Pedestrians of all kinds come forth_.) + + +SEVERAL APPRENTICES + +Why do you go that way? + + +OTHERS + +We're for the Hunters' lodge, to-day. + + +THE FIRST + +We'll saunter to the Mill, in yonder hollow. + + +AN APPRENTICE + +Go to the River Tavern, I should say. + + +SECOND APPRENTICE + +But then, it's not a pleasant way. + + +THE OTHERS + +And what will _you_? + +A THIRD + + As goes the crowd, I follow. + + +A FOURTH + +Come up to Burgdorf? There you'll find good cheer, +The finest lasses and the best of beer, +And jolly rows and squabbles, trust me! + + +A FIFTH + +You swaggering fellow, is your hide +A third time itching to be tried? +I won't go there, your jolly rows disgust me! + + +SERVANT-GIRL + +No,--no! I'll turn and go to town again. + + +ANOTHER + +We'll surely find him by those poplars yonder. + + +THE FIRST + +That's no great luck for me, 'tis plain. +You'll have him, when and where you wander: +His partner in the dance you'll be,-- +But what is all your fun to me? + + +THE OTHER + +He's surely not alone to-day: +He'll be with Curly-head, I heard him say. + + +A STUDENT + +Deuce! how they step, the buxom wenches! +Come, Brother! we must see them to the benches. +A strong, old beer, a pipe that stings and bites, +A girl in Sunday clothes,--these three are my delights. + + +CITIZEN'S DAUGHTER + +Just see those handsome fellows, there! +It's really shameful, I declare;-- +To follow servant-girls, when they +Might have the most genteel society to-day! + + +SECOND STUDENT (_to the First_) + +Not quite so fast! Two others come behind,-- +Those, dressed so prettily and neatly. +My neighbor's one of them, I find, +A girl that takes my heart, completely. +They go their way with looks demure, +But they'll accept us, after all, I'm sure. + + +THE FIRST + +No, Brother! not for me their formal ways. +Quick! lest our game escape us in the press: +The hand that wields the broom on Saturdays +Will best, on Sundays, fondle and caress. + + +CITIZEN + +He suits me not at all, our new-made Burgomaster! +Since he's installed, his arrogance grows faster. +How has he helped the town, I say? +Things worsen,--what improvement names he? +Obedience, more than ever, claims he, +And more than ever we must pay! + + +BEGGAR (_sings_) + + Good gentlemen and lovely ladies, + So red of cheek and fine of dress, + Behold, how needful here your aid is, + And see and lighten my distress! + Let me not vainly sing my ditty; + He's only glad who gives away: + A holiday, that shows your pity, + Shall be for me a harvest-day! + + +ANOTHER CITIZEN + +On Sundays, holidays, there's naught I take delight in, +Like gossiping of war, and war's array, +When down in Turkey, far away, +The foreign people are a-fighting. +One at the window sits, with glass and friends, +And sees all sorts of ships go down the river gliding: +And blesses then, as home he wends +At night, our times of peace abiding. + + +THIRD CITIZEN + +Yes, Neighbor! that's my notion, too: +Why, let them break their heads, let loose their passions, +And mix things madly through and through, +So, here, we keep our good old fashions! + + +OLD WOMAN (_to the Citizen's Daughter_) + +Dear me, how fine! So handsome, and so young! +Who wouldn't lose his heart, that met you? +Don't be so proud! I'll hold my tongue, +And what you'd like I'll undertake to get you. + + +CITIZEN'S DAUGHTER + +Come, Agatha! I shun the witch's sight +Before folks, lest there be misgiving: +'Tis true, she showed me, on Saint Andrew's Night, +My future sweetheart, just as he were living. + + +THE OTHER + +She showed me mine, in crystal clear, +With several wild young blades, a soldier-lover: +I seek him everywhere, I pry and peer, +And yet, somehow, his face I can't discover. + +SOLDIERS + + Castles, with lofty + Ramparts and towers, + Maidens disdainful + In Beauty's array, + Both shall be ours! + Bold is the venture, + Splendid the pay! + Lads, let the trumpets + For us be suing,-- + Calling to pleasure, + Calling to ruin. + Stormy our life is; + Such is its boon! + Maidens and castles + Capitulate soon. + Bold is the venture, + Splendid the pay! + And the soldiers go marching, + Marching away! + + +FAUST AND WAGNER + + +FAUST + +Released from ice are brook and river +By the quickening glance of the gracious Spring; +The colors of hope to the valley cling, +And weak old Winter himself must shiver, +Withdrawn to the mountains, a crownless king: +Whence, ever retreating, he sends again +Impotent showers of sleet that darkle +In belts across the green o' the plain. +But the sun will permit no white to sparkle; +Everywhere form in development moveth; +He will brighten the world with the tints he loveth, +And, lacking blossoms, blue, yellow, and red, +He takes these gaudy people instead. +Turn thee about, and from this height +Back on the town direct thy sight. +Out of the hollow, gloomy gate, +The motley throngs come forth elate: +Each will the joy of the sunshine hoard, +To honor the Day of the Risen Lord! +They feel, themselves, their resurrection: +From the low, dark rooms, scarce habitable; +From the bonds of Work, from Trade's restriction; +From the pressing weight of roof and gable; +From the narrow, crushing streets and alleys; +From the churches' solemn and reverend night, +All come forth to the cheerful light. +How lively, see! the multitude sallies, +Scattering through gardens and fields remote, +While over the river, that broadly dallies, +Dances so many a festive boat; +And overladen, nigh to sinking, +The last full wherry takes the stream. +Yonder afar, from the hill-paths blinking, +Their clothes are colors that softly gleam. +I hear the noise of the village, even; +Here is the People's proper Heaven; +Here high and low contented see! +Here I am Man,--dare man to be! + + +WAGNER + +To stroll with you, Sir Doctor, flatters; +'Tis honor, profit, unto me. +But I, alone, would shun these shallow matters, +Since all that's coarse provokes my enmity. +This fiddling, shouting, ten-pin rolling +I hate,--these noises of the throng: +They rave, as Satan were their sports controlling. +And call it mirth, and call it song! + + +PEASANTS, UNDER THE LINDEN-TREE + (_Dance and Song_.) + + All for the dance the shepherd dressed, + In ribbons, wreath, and gayest vest + Himself with care arraying: + Around the linden lass and lad + Already footed it like mad: + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah--tarara-la! + The fiddle-bow was playing. + + He broke the ranks, no whit afraid, + And with his elbow punched a maid, + Who stood, the dance surveying: + The buxom wench, she turned and said: + "Now, you I call a stupid-head!" + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah--tarara-la! + "Be decent while you're staying!" + + Then round the circle went their flight, + They danced to left, they danced to right: + Their kirtles all were playing. + They first grew red, and then grew warm, + And rested, panting, arm in arm,-- + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah--tarara-la! + And hips and elbows straying. + + Now, don't be so familiar here! + How many a one has fooled his dear, + Waylaying and betraying! + + And yet, he coaxed her soon aside, + And round the linden sounded wide. + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah--tarara-la! + And the fiddle-bow was playing. + +OLD PEASANT + +Sir Doctor, it is good of you, +That thus you condescend, to-day, +Among this crowd of merry folk, +A highly-learned man, to stray. +Then also take the finest can, +We fill with fresh wine, for your sake: +I offer it, and humbly wish +That not alone your thirst is slake,-- +That, as the drops below its brink, +So many days of life you drink! + + +FAUST + +I take the cup you kindly reach, +With thanks and health to all and each. + +(_The People gather in a circle about him_.) + + +OLD PEASANT + +In truth, 'tis well and fitly timed, +That now our day of joy you share, +Who heretofore, in evil days, +Gave us so much of helping care. +Still many a man stands living here, +Saved by your father's skillful hand, +That snatched him from the fever's rage +And stayed the plague in all the land. +Then also you, though but a youth, +Went into every house of pain: +Many the corpses carried forth, +But you in health came out again. + +FAUST + +No test or trial you evaded: +A Helping God the helper aided. + +ALL + +Health to the man, so skilled and tried. +That for our help he long may abide! + +FAUST + +To Him above bow down, my friends, +Who teaches help, and succor sends! + +(_He goes on with_ WAGNER.) + +WAGNER + +With what a feeling, thou great man, must thou +Receive the people's honest veneration! +How lucky he, whose gifts his station +With such advantages endow! +Thou'rt shown to all the younger generation: +Each asks, and presses near to gaze; +The fiddle stops, the dance delays. +Thou goest, they stand in rows to see, +And all the caps are lifted high; +A little more, and they would bend the knee +As if the Holy Host came by. + +FAUST + +A few more steps ascend, as far as yonder stone!-- +Here from our wandering will we rest contented. +Here, lost in thought, I've lingered oft alone, +When foolish fasts and prayers my life tormented. +Here, rich in hope and firm in faith, +With tears, wrung hands and sighs, I've striven, +The end of that far-spreading death +Entreating from the Lord of Heaven! +Now like contempt the crowd's applauses seem: +Couldst thou but read, within mine inmost spirit, +How little now I deem, +That sire or son such praises merit! +My father's was a sombre, brooding brain, +Which through the holy spheres of Nature groped and wandered, +And honestly, in his own fashion, pondered +With labor whimsical, and pain: +Who, in his dusky work-shop bending, +With proved adepts in company, +Made, from his recipes unending, +Opposing substances agree. +There was a Lion red, a wooer daring, +Within the Lily's tepid bath espoused, +And both, tormented then by flame unsparing, +By turns in either bridal chamber housed. +If then appeared, with colors splendid, +The young Queen in her crystal shell, +This was the medicine--the patients' woes soon ended, +And none demanded: who got well? +Thus we, our hellish boluses compounding, +Among these vales and hills surrounding, +Worse than the pestilence, have passed. +Thousands were done to death from poison of my giving; +And I must hear, by all the living, +The shameless murderers praised at last! + +WAGNER + +Why, therefore, yield to such depression? +A good man does his honest share +In exercising, with the strictest care, +The art bequeathed to his possession! +Dost thou thy father honor, as a youth? +Then may his teaching cheerfully impel thee: +Dost thou, as man, increase the stores of truth? +Then may thine own son afterwards excel thee. + +FAUST + +O happy he, who still renews +The hope, from Error's deeps to rise forever! +That which one does not know, one needs to use; +And what one knows, one uses never. +But let us not, by such despondence, so +The fortune of this hour embitter! +Mark how, beneath the evening sunlight's glow, +The green-embosomed houses glitter! +The glow retreats, done is the day of toil; +It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring; +Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil, +Upon its track to follow, follow soaring! +Then would I see eternal Evening gild +The silent world beneath me glowing, +On fire each mountain-peak, with peace each valley filled, +The silver brook to golden rivers flowing. +The mountain-chain, with all its gorges deep, +Would then no more impede my godlike motion; +And now before mine eyes expands the ocean +With all its bays, in shining sleep! +Yet, finally, the weary god is sinking; +The new-born impulse fires my mind,-- +I hasten on, his beams eternal drinking, +The Day before me and the Night behind, +Above me heaven unfurled, the floor of waves beneath me,-- +A glorious dream! though now the glories fade. +Alas! the wings that lift the mind no aid +Of wings to lift the body can bequeath me. +Yet in each soul is born the pleasure +Of yearning onward, upward and away, +When o'er our heads, lost in the vaulted azure, +The lark sends down his flickering lay,-- +When over crags and piny highlands +The poising eagle slowly soars, +And over plains and lakes and islands +The crane sails by to other shores. + +WAGNER + +I've had, myself, at times, some odd caprices, +But never yet such impulse felt, as this is. +One soon fatigues, on woods and fields to look, +Nor would I beg the bird his wing to spare us: +How otherwise the mental raptures bear us +From page to page, from book to book! +Then winter nights take loveliness untold, +As warmer life in every limb had crowned you; +And when your hands unroll some parchment rare and old, +All Heaven descends, and opens bright around you! + +FAUST + +One impulse art thou conscious of, at best; +O, never seek to know the other! +Two souls, alas! reside within my breast, +And each withdraws from, and repels, its brother. +One with tenacious organs holds in love +And clinging lust the world in its embraces; +The other strongly sweeps, this dust above, +Into the high ancestral spaces. +If there be airy spirits near, +'Twixt Heaven and Earth on potent errands fleeing, +Let them drop down the golden atmosphere, +And bear me forth to new and varied being! +Yea, if a magic mantle once were mine, +To waft me o'er the world at pleasure, +I would not for the costliest stores of treasure-- +Not for a monarch's robe--the gift resign. + +WAGNER + +Invoke not thus the well-known throng, +Which through the firmament diffused is faring, +And danger thousand-fold, our race to wrong. +In every quarter is preparing. +Swift from the North the spirit-fangs so sharp +Sweep down, and with their barbéd points assail you; +Then from the East they come, to dry and warp +Your lungs, till breath and being fail you: +If from the Desert sendeth them the South, +With fire on fire your throbbing forehead crowning, +The West leads on a host, to cure the drouth +Only when meadow, field, and you are drowning. +They gladly hearken, prompt for injury,-- +Gladly obey, because they gladly cheat us; +From Heaven they represent themselves to be, +And lisp like angels, when with lies they meet us. +But, let us go! 'Tis gray and dusky all: +The air is cold, the vapors fall. +At night, one learns his house to prize:-- +Why stand you thus, with such astonished eyes? +What, in the twilight, can your mind so trouble? + +FAUST + +Seest thou the black dog coursing there, through corn and +stubble? + +WAGNER + +Long since: yet deemed him not important in the least. + +FAUST + +Inspect him close: for what tak'st thou the beast? + +WAGNER + +Why, for a poodle who has lost his master, +And scents about, his track to find. + +FAUST + +Seest thou the spiral circles, narrowing faster, +Which he, approaching, round us seems to wind? +A streaming trail of fire, if I see rightly, +Follows his path of mystery. + +WAGNER + +It may be that your eyes deceive you slightly; +Naught but a plain black poodle do I see. + +FAUST + +It seems to me that with enchanted cunning +He snares our feet, some future chain to bind. + +WAGNER + +I see him timidly, in doubt, around us running, +Since, in his master's stead, two strangers doth he find. + +FAUST + +The circle narrows: he is near! + +WAGNER + +A dog thou seest, and not a phantom, here! +Behold him stop--upon his belly crawl--His +tail set wagging: canine habits, all! + +FAUST + +Come, follow us! Come here, at least! + +WAGNER + +'Tis the absurdest, drollest beast. +Stand still, and you will see him wait; +Address him, and he gambols straight; +If something's lost, he'll quickly bring it,-- +Your cane, if in the stream you fling it. + +FAUST + +No doubt you're right: no trace of mind, I own, +Is in the beast: I see but drill, alone. + +WAGNER + +The dog, when he's well educated, +Is by the wisest tolerated. +Yes, he deserves your favor thoroughly,-- +The clever scholar of the students, he! + +(_They pass in the city-gate_.) + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +III + + +THE STUDY + +FAUST + +(_Entering, with the poodle_.) + + Behind me, field and meadow sleeping, + I leave in deep, prophetic night, + Within whose dread and holy keeping + The better soul awakes to light. + The wild desires no longer win us, + The deeds of passion cease to chain; + The love of Man revives within us, + The love of God revives again. + +Be still, thou poodle; make not such racket and riot! +Why at the threshold wilt snuffing be? +Behind the stove repose thee in quiet! +My softest cushion I give to thee. +As thou, up yonder, with running and leaping +Amused us hast, on the mountain's crest, + +So now I take thee into my keeping, +A welcome, but also a silent, guest. + + Ah, when, within our narrow chamber + The lamp with friendly lustre glows, + Flames in the breast each faded ember, + And in the heart, itself that knows. + Then Hope again lends sweet assistance, + And Reason then resumes her speech: + One yearns, the rivers of existence, + The very founts of Life, to reach. + +Snarl not, poodle! To the sound that rises, +The sacred tones that my soul embrace, +This bestial noise is out of place. +We are used to see, that Man despises +What he never comprehends, +And the Good and the Beautiful vilipends, +Finding them often hard to measure: +Will the dog, like man, snarl _his_ displeasure? + +But ah! I feel, though will thereto be stronger, +Contentment flows from out my breast no longer. +Why must the stream so soon run dry and fail us, +And burning thirst again assail us? +Therein I've borne so much probation! +And yet, this want may be supplied us; +We call the Supernatural to guide us; +We pine and thirst for Revelation, +Which nowhere worthier is, more nobly sent, +Than here, in our New Testament. +I feel impelled, its meaning to determine,-- +With honest purpose, once for all, +The hallowed Original +To change to my beloved German. + +(_He opens a volume, and commences_.) +'Tis written: "In the Beginning was the _Word_." +Here am I balked: who, now can help afford? +The _Word?_--impossible so high to rate it; +And otherwise must I translate it. +If by the Spirit I am truly taught. +Then thus: "In the Beginning was the _Thought_" +This first line let me weigh completely, +Lest my impatient pen proceed too fleetly. +Is it the _Thought_ which works, creates, indeed? +"In the Beginning was the _Power,"_ I read. +Yet, as I write, a warning is suggested, +That I the sense may not have fairly tested. +The Spirit aids me: now I see the light! +"In the Beginning was the _Act_," I write. + +If I must share my chamber with thee, +Poodle, stop that howling, prithee! +Cease to bark and bellow! +Such a noisy, disturbing fellow +I'll no longer suffer near me. +One of us, dost hear me! +Must leave, I fear me. +No longer guest-right I bestow; +The door is open, art free to go. +But what do I see in the creature? +Is that in the course of nature? +Is't actual fact? or Fancy's shows? +How long and broad my poodle grows! +He rises mightily: +A canine form that cannot be! +What a spectre I've harbored thus! +He resembles a hippopotamus, +With fiery eyes, teeth terrible to see: +O, now am I sure of thee! +For all of thy half-hellish brood +The Key of Solomon is good. + +SPIRITS (_in the corridor_) + + Some one, within, is caught! + Stay without, follow him not! + Like the fox in a snare, + Quakes the old hell-lynx there. + Take heed--look about! + Back and forth hover, + Under and over, + And he'll work himself out. + If your aid avail him, + Let it not fail him; + For he, without measure, + Has wrought for our pleasure. + +FAUST + +First, to encounter the beast, +The Words of the Four be addressed: + Salamander, shine glorious! + Wave, Undine, as bidden! + Sylph, be thou hidden! + Gnome, be laborious! + +Who knows not their sense +(These elements),-- +Their properties +And power not sees,-- +No mastery he inherits +Over the Spirits. + + Vanish in flaming ether, + Salamander! + Flow foamingly together, + Undine! + Shine in meteor-sheen, + Sylph! + Bring help to hearth and shelf. + Incubus! Incubus! + Step forward, and finish thus! + +Of the Four, no feature +Lurks in the creature. +Quiet he lies, and grins disdain: +Not yet, it seems, have I given him pain. +Now, to undisguise thee, +Hear me exorcise thee! +Art thou, my gay one, +Hell's fugitive stray-one? +The sign witness now, +Before which they bow, +The cohorts of Hell! + +With hair all bristling, it begins to swell. + + Base Being, hearest thou? + Knowest and fearest thou + The One, unoriginate, + Named inexpressibly, + Through all Heaven impermeate, + Pierced irredressibly! + +Behind the stove still banned, +See it, an elephant, expand! +It fills the space entire, +Mist-like melting, ever faster. +'Tis enough: ascend no higher,-- +Lay thyself at the feet of the Master! +Thou seest, not vain the threats I bring thee: +With holy fire I'll scorch and sting thee! +Wait not to know +The threefold dazzling glow! +Wait not to know +The strongest art within my hands! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_while the vapor is dissipating, steps forth from behind the +stove, in the costume of a Travelling Scholar_.) +Why such a noise? What are my lord's commands? + +FAUST + +This was the poodle's real core, +A travelling scholar, then? The _casus_ is diverting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The learned gentleman I bow before: +You've made me roundly sweat, that's certain! + +FAUST + +What is thy name? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A question small, it seems, +For one whose mind the Word so much despises; +Who, scorning all external gleams, +The depths of being only prizes. + +FAUST + +With all you gentlemen, the name's a test, +Whereby the nature usually is expressed. +Clearly the latter it implies +In names like Beelzebub, Destroyer, Father of Lies. +Who art thou, then? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Part of that Power, not understood, +Which always wills the Bad, and always works the Good. + +FAUST + +What hidden sense in this enigma lies? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I am the Spirit that Denies! +And justly so: for all things, from the Void +Called forth, deserve to be destroyed: +'Twere better, then, were naught created. +Thus, all which you as Sin have rated,-- +Destruction,--aught with Evil blent,-- +That is my proper element. + +FAUST + +Thou nam'st thyself a part, yet show'st complete to me? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The modest truth I speak to thee. +If Man, that microcosmic fool, can see +Himself a whole so frequently, +Part of the Part am I, once All, in primal Night,-- +Part of the Darkness which brought forth the Light, +The haughty Light, which now disputes the space, +And claims of Mother Night her ancient place. +And yet, the struggle fails; since Light, howe'er it weaves, +Still, fettered, unto bodies cleaves: +It flows from bodies, bodies beautifies; +By bodies is its course impeded; +And so, but little time is needed, +I hope, ere, as the bodies die, it dies! + +FAUST + +I see the plan thou art pursuing: +Thou canst not compass general ruin, +And hast on smaller scale begun. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And truly 'tis not much, when all is done. +That which to Naught is in resistance set,-- +The Something of this clumsy world,--has yet, +With all that I have undertaken, +Not been by me disturbed or shaken: +From earthquake, tempest, wave, volcano's brand, +Back into quiet settle sea and land! +And that damned stuff, the bestial, human brood,-- +What use, in having that to play with? +How many have I made away with! +And ever circulates a newer, fresher blood. +It makes me furious, such things beholding: +From Water, Earth, and Air unfolding, +A thousand germs break forth and grow, +In dry, and wet, and warm, and chilly; +And had I not the Flame reserved, why, really, +There's nothing special of my own to show! + +FAUST + +So, to the actively eternal +Creative force, in cold disdain +You now oppose the fist infernal, +Whose wicked clench is all in vain! +Some other labor seek thou rather, +Queer Son of Chaos, to begin! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Well, we'll consider: thou canst gather +My views, when next I venture in. +Might I, perhaps, depart at present? + +FAUST + +Why thou shouldst ask, I don't perceive. +Though our acquaintance is so recent, +For further visits thou hast leave. +The window's here, the door is yonder; +A chimney, also, you behold. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I must confess that forth I may not wander, +My steps by one slight obstacle controlled,-- +The wizard's-foot, that on your threshold made is. + +FAUST + +The pentagram prohibits thee? +Why, tell me now, thou Son of Hades, +If that prevents, how cam'st thou in to me? +Could such a spirit be so cheated? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Inspect the thing: the drawing's not completed. +The outer angle, you may see, +Is open left--the lines don't fit it. + +FAUST + +Well,--Chance, this time, has fairly hit it! +And thus, thou'rt prisoner to me? +It seems the business has succeeded. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The poodle naught remarked, as after thee he speeded; +But other aspects now obtain: +The Devil can't get out again. + +FAUST + +Try, then, the open window-pane! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +For Devils and for spectres this is law: +Where they have entered in, there also they withdraw. +The first is free to us; we're governed by the second. + +FAUST + +In Hell itself, then, laws are reckoned? +That's well! So might a compact be +Made with you gentlemen--and binding,--surely? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +All that is promised shall delight thee purely; +No skinflint bargain shalt thou see. +But this is not of swift conclusion; +We'll talk about the matter soon. +And now, I do entreat this boon-- +Leave to withdraw from my intrusion. + +FAUST + +One moment more I ask thee to remain, +Some pleasant news, at least, to tell me. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Release me, now! I soon shall come again; +Then thou, at will, mayst question and compel me. + +FAUST + +I have not snares around thee cast; +Thyself hast led thyself into the meshes. +Who traps the Devil, hold him fast! +Not soon a second time he'll catch a prey so precious. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +An't please thee, also I'm content to stay, +And serve thee in a social station; +But stipulating, that I may +With arts of mine afford thee recreation. + +FAUST + +Thereto I willingly agree, +If the diversion pleasant be. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My friend, thou'lt win, past all pretences, +More in this hour to soothe thy senses, +Than in the year's monotony. +That which the dainty spirits sing thee, +The lovely pictures they shall bring thee, +Are more than magic's empty show. +Thy scent will be to bliss invited; +Thy palate then with taste delighted, +Thy nerves of touch ecstatic glow! +All unprepared, the charm I spin: +We're here together, so begin! + +SPIRITS + + Vanish, ye darking + Arches above him! + Loveliest weather, + Born of blue ether, + Break from the sky! + O that the darkling + Clouds had departed! + Starlight is sparkling, + Tranquiller-hearted + Suns are on high. + Heaven's own children + In beauty bewildering, + Waveringly bending, + Pass as they hover; + Longing unending + Follows them over. + They, with their glowing + Garments, out-flowing, + Cover, in going, + Landscape and bower, + Where, in seclusion, + Lovers are plighted, + Lost in illusion. + Bower on bower! + Tendrils unblighted! + Lo! in a shower + Grapes that o'ercluster + Gush into must, or + Flow into rivers + Of foaming and flashing + Wine, that is dashing + Gems, as it boundeth + Down the high places, + And spreading, surroundeth + With crystalline spaces, + In happy embraces, + Blossoming forelands, + Emerald shore-lands! + And the winged races + Drink, and fly onward-- + Fly ever sunward + To the enticing + Islands, that flatter, + Dipping and rising + Light on the water! + Hark, the inspiring + Sound of their quiring! + See, the entrancing + Whirl of their dancing! + All in the air are + Freer and fairer. + Some of them scaling + Boldly the highlands, + Others are sailing, + Circling the islands; + Others are flying; + Life-ward all hieing,-- + All for the distant + Star of existent + Rapture and Love! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +He sleeps! Enough, ye fays! your airy number +Have sung him truly into slumber: +For this performance I your debtor prove.-- +Not yet art thou the man, to catch the Fiend and hold him!-- +With fairest images of dreams infold him, +Plunge him in seas of sweet untruth! +Yet, for the threshold's magic which controlled him, +The Devil needs a rat's quick tooth. +I use no lengthened invocation: +Here rustles one that soon will work my liberation. + +The lord of rats and eke of mice, +Of flies and bed-bugs, frogs and lice, +Summons thee hither to the door-sill, +To gnaw it where, with just a morsel +Of oil, he paints the spot for thee:-- +There com'st thou, hopping on to me! +To work, at once! The point which made me craven +Is forward, on the ledge, engraven. +Another bite makes free the door: +So, dream thy dreams, O Faust, until we meet once more! + +FAUST _(awaking)_ + +Am I again so foully cheated? +Remains there naught of lofty spirit-sway, +But that a dream the Devil counterfeited, +And that a poodle ran away? + +[Illustration] + + + + +IV + + +THE STUDY + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +A knock? Come in! Again my quiet broken? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +'Tis I! + +FAUST + + Come in! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Thrice must the words be spoken. + +FAUST + +Come in, then! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Thus thou pleasest me. +I hope we'll suit each other well; +For now, thy vapors to dispel, +I come, a squire of high degree, +In scarlet coat, with golden trimming, +A cloak in silken lustre swimming, +A tall cock's-feather in my hat, +A long, sharp sword for show or quarrel,-- +And I advise thee, brief and flat, +To don the self-same gay apparel, +That, from this den released, and free, +Life be at last revealed to thee! + +FAUST + +This life of earth, whatever my attire, +Would pain me in its wonted fashion. +Too old am I to play with passion; +Too young, to be without desire. +What from the world have I to gain? +Thou shalt abstain--renounce--refrain! +Such is the everlasting song +That in the ears of all men rings,-- +That unrelieved, our whole life long, +Each hour, in passing, hoarsely sings. +In very terror I at morn awake, +Upon the verge of bitter weeping, +To see the day of disappointment break, +To no one hope of mine--not one--its promise keeping:-- +That even each joy's presentiment +With wilful cavil would diminish, +With grinning masks of life prevent +My mind its fairest work to finish! +Then, too, when night descends, how anxiously +Upon my couch of sleep I lay me: +There, also, comes no rest to me, +But some wild dream is sent to fray me. +The God that in my breast is owned +Can deeply stir the inner sources; +The God, above my powers enthroned, +He cannot change external forces. +So, by the burden of my days oppressed, +Death is desired, and Life a thing unblest! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And yet is never Death a wholly welcome guest. + +FAUST + +O fortunate, for whom, when victory glances, +The bloody laurels on the brow he bindeth! +Whom, after rapid, maddening dances, +In clasping maiden-arms he findeth! +O would that I, before that spirit-power, +Ravished and rapt from life, had sunken! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And yet, by some one, in that nightly hour, +A certain liquid was not drunken. + +FAUST + +Eavesdropping, ha! thy pleasure seems to be. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Omniscient am I not; yet much is known to me. + +FAUST + +Though some familiar tone, retrieving +My thoughts from torment, led me on, +And sweet, clear echoes came, deceiving +A faith bequeathed from Childhood's dawn, +Yet now I curse whate'er entices +And snares the soul with visions vain; +With dazzling cheats and dear devices +Confines it in this cave of pain! +Cursed be, at once, the high ambition +Wherewith the mind itself deludes! +Cursed be the glare of apparition +That on the finer sense intrudes! +Cursed be the lying dream's impression +Of name, and fame, and laurelled brow! +Cursed, all that flatters as possession, +As wife and child, as knave and plow! +Cursed Mammon be, when he with treasures +To restless action spurs our fate! +Cursed when, for soft, indulgent leisures, +He lays for us the pillows straight! +Cursed be the vine's transcendent nectar,-- +The highest favor Love lets fall! +Cursed, also, Hope!--cursed Faith, the spectre! +And cursed be Patience most of all! + +CHORUS OF SPIRITS (_invisible_) + + Woe! woe! + Thou hast it destroyed, + The beautiful world, + With powerful fist: + In ruin 'tis hurled, + By the blow of a demigod shattered! + The scattered + Fragments into the Void we carry, + Deploring + The beauty perished beyond restoring. + Mightier + For the children of men, + Brightlier + Build it again, + In thine own bosom build it anew! + Bid the new career + Commence, + With clearer sense, + And the new songs of cheer + Be sung thereto! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +These are the small dependants +Who give me attendance. +Hear them, to deeds and passion +Counsel in shrewd old-fashion! +Into the world of strife, +Out of this lonely life +That of senses and sap has betrayed thee, +They would persuade thee. +This nursing of the pain forego thee, +That, like a vulture, feeds upon thy breast! +The worst society thou find'st will show thee +Thou art a man among the rest. +But 'tis not meant to thrust +Thee into the mob thou hatest! +I am not one of the greatest, +Yet, wilt thou to me entrust +Thy steps through life, I'll guide thee,-- +Will willingly walk beside thee,-- +Will serve thee at once and forever +With best endeavor, +And, if thou art satisfied, +Will as servant, slave, with thee abide. + +FAUST + +And what shall be my counter-service therefor? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The time is long: thou need'st not now insist. + +FAUST + +No--no! The Devil is an egotist, +And is not apt, without a why or wherefore, +"For God's sake," others to assist. +Speak thy conditions plain and clear! +With such a servant danger comes, I fear. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +_Here_, an unwearied slave, I'll wear thy tether, +And to thine every nod obedient be: +When _There_ again we come together, +Then shalt thou do the same for me. + +FAUST + +The _There_ my scruples naught increases. +When thou hast dashed this world to pieces, +The other, then, its place may fill. +Here, on this earth, my pleasures have their sources; +Yon sun beholds my sorrows in his courses; +And when from these my life itself divorces, +Let happen all that can or will! +I'll hear no more: 'tis vain to ponder +If there we cherish love or hate, +Or, in the spheres we dream of yonder, +A High and Low our souls await. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +In this sense, even, canst thou venture. +Come, bind thyself by prompt indenture, +And thou mine arts with joy shalt see: +What no man ever saw, I'll give to thee. + +FAUST + +Canst thou, poor Devil, give me whatsoever? +When was a human soul, in its supreme endeavor, +E'er understood by such as thou? +Yet, hast thou food which never satiates, now,-- +The restless, ruddy gold hast thou, +That runs, quicksilver-like, one's fingers through,-- +A game whose winnings no man ever knew,-- +A maid that, even from my breast, +Beckons my neighbor with her wanton glances, +And Honor's godlike zest, +The meteor that a moment dances,-- +Show me the fruits that, ere they're gathered, rot, +And trees that daily with new leafage clothe them! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Such a demand alarms me not: +Such treasures have I, and can show them. +But still the time may reach us, good my friend. +When peace we crave and more luxurious diet. + +FAUST + +When on an idler's bed I stretch myself in quiet. +There let, at once, my record end! +Canst thou with lying flattery rule me, +Until, self-pleased, myself I see,-- +Canst thou with rich enjoyment fool me, +Let that day be the last for me! +The bet I offer. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + Done! + +FAUST + And heartily! +When thus I hail the Moment flying: +"Ah, still delay--thou art so fair!" +Then bind me in thy bonds undying, +My final ruin then declare! +Then let the death-bell chime the token. +Then art thou from thy service free! +The clock may stop, the hand be broken, +Then Time be finished unto me! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Consider well: my memory good is rated. + +FAUST + +Thou hast a perfect right thereto. +My powers I have not rashly estimated: +A slave am I, whate'er I do-- +If thine, or whose? 'tis needless to debate it. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then at the Doctors'-banquet I, to-day, +Will as a servant wait behind thee. +But one thing more! Beyond all risk to bind thee, +Give me a line or two, I pray. + +FAUST + +Demand'st thou, Pedant, too, a document? +Hast never known a man, nor proved his word's intent? +Is't not enough, that what I speak to-day +Shall stand, with all my future days agreeing? +In all its tides sweeps not the world away, +And shall a promise bind my being? +Yet this delusion in our hearts we bear: +Who would himself therefrom deliver? +Blest he, whose bosom Truth makes pure and fair! +No sacrifice shall he repent of ever. +Nathless a parchment, writ and stamped with care, +A spectre is, which all to shun endeavor. +The word, alas! dies even in the pen, +And wax and leather keep the lordship then. +What wilt from me, Base Spirit, say?-- +Brass, marble, parchment, paper, clay? +The terms with graver, quill, or chisel, stated? +I freely leave the choice to thee. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why heat thyself, thus instantly, +With eloquence exaggerated? +Each leaf for such a pact is good; +And to subscribe thy name thou'lt take a drop of blood. + +FAUST + +If thou therewith art fully satisfied, +So let us by the farce abide. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Blood is a juice of rarest quality. + +FAUST + +Fear not that I this pact shall seek to sever? +The promise that I make to thee +Is just the sum of my endeavor. +I have myself inflated all too high; +My proper place is thy estate: +The Mighty Spirit deigns me no reply, +And Nature shuts on me her gate. +The thread of Thought at last is broken, +And knowledge brings disgust unspoken. +Let us the sensual deeps explore, +To quench the fervors of glowing passion! +Let every marvel take form and fashion +Through the impervious veil it wore! +Plunge we in Time's tumultuous dance, +In the rush and roll of Circumstance! +Then may delight and distress, +And worry and success, +Alternately follow, as best they can: +Restless activity proves the man! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +For you no bound, no term is set. +Whether you everywhere be trying, +Or snatch a rapid bliss in flying, +May it agree with you, what you get! +Only fall to, and show no timid balking. + +FAUST + +But thou hast heard, 'tis not of joy we're talking. +I take the wildering whirl, enjoyment's keenest pain, +Enamored hate, exhilarant disdain. +My bosom, of its thirst for knowledge sated, +Shall not, henceforth, from any pang be wrested, +And all of life for all mankind created +Shall be within mine inmost being tested: +The highest, lowest forms my soul shall borrow, +Shall heap upon itself their bliss and sorrow, +And thus, my own sole self to all their selves expanded, +I too, at last, shall with them all be stranded! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Believe me, who for many a thousand year +The same tough meat have chewed and tested, +That from the cradle to the bier +No man the ancient leaven has digested! +Trust one of us, this Whole supernal +Is made but for a God's delight! +_He_ dwells in splendor single and eternal, +But _us_ he thrusts in darkness, out of sight, +And _you_ he dowers with Day and Night. + +FAUST + +Nay, but I will! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A good reply! +One only fear still needs repeating: +The art is long, the time is fleeting. +Then let thyself be taught, say I! +Go, league thyself with a poet, +Give the rein to his imagination, +Then wear the crown, and show it, +Of the qualities of his creation,-- +The courage of the lion's breed, +The wild stag's speed, +The Italian's fiery blood, +The North's firm fortitude! +Let him find for thee the secret tether +That binds the Noble and Mean together. +And teach thy pulses of youth and pleasure +To love by rule, and hate by measure! +I'd like, myself, such a one to see: +Sir Microcosm his name should be. + +FAUST + +What am I, then, if 'tis denied my part +The crown of all humanity to win me, +Whereto yearns every sense within me? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why, on the whole, thou'rt--what thou art. +Set wigs of million curls upon thy head, to raise thee, +Wear shoes an ell in height,--the truth betrays thee, +And thou remainest--what thou art. + +FAUST + +I feel, indeed, that I have made the treasure +Of human thought and knowledge mine, in vain; +And if I now sit down in restful leisure, +No fount of newer strength is in my brain: +I am no hair's-breadth more in height, +Nor nearer, to the Infinite, + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Good Sir, you see the facts precisely +As they are seen by each and all. +We must arrange them now, more wisely, +Before the joys of life shall pall. +Why, Zounds! Both hands and feet are, truly-- +And head and virile forces--thine: +Yet all that I indulge in newly, +Is't thence less wholly mine? +If I've six stallions in my stall, +Are not their forces also lent me? +I speed along, completest man of all, +As though my legs were four-and-twenty. +Take hold, then! let reflection rest, +And plunge into the world with zest! +I say to thee, a speculative wight +Is like a beast on moorlands lean, +That round and round some fiend misleads to evil plight, +While all about lie pastures fresh and green. + +FAUST + +Then how shall we begin? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We'll try a wider sphere. +What place of martyrdom is here! +Is't life, I ask, is't even prudence, +To bore thyself and bore the students? +Let Neighbor Paunch to that attend! +Why plague thyself with threshing straw forever? +The best thou learnest, in the end +Thou dar'st not tell the youngsters--never! +I hear one's footsteps, hither steering. + +FAUST +To see him now I have no heart. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +So long the poor boy waits a hearing, +He must not unconsoled depart. +Thy cap and mantle straightway lend me! +I'll play the comedy with art. + +(_He disguises himself_.) + +My wits, be certain, will befriend me. +But fifteen minutes' time is all I need; +For our fine trip, meanwhile, prepare thyself with speed! + +[_Exit_ FAUST. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_In_ FAUST'S _long mantle_.) + +Reason and Knowledge only thou despise, +The highest strength in man that lies! +Let but the Lying Spirit bind thee +With magic works and shows that blind thee, +And I shall have thee fast and sure!-- +Fate such a bold, untrammelled spirit gave him, +As forwards, onwards, ever must endure; +Whose over-hasty impulse drave him +Past earthly joys he might secure. +Dragged through the wildest life, will I enslave him, +Through flat and stale indifference; +With struggling, chilling, checking, so deprave him +That, to his hot, insatiate sense, +The dream of drink shall mock, but never lave him: +Refreshment shall his lips in vain implore-- +Had he not made himself the Devil's, naught could save +him, +Still were he lost forevermore! + +(_A_ STUDENT _enters_.) + +STUDENT + +A short time, only, am I here, +And come, devoted and sincere, +To greet and know the man of fame, +Whom men to me with reverence name. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Your courtesy doth flatter me: +You see a man, as others be. +Have you, perchance, elsewhere begun? + +STUDENT + +Receive me now, I pray, as one +Who comes to you with courage good, +Somewhat of cash, and healthy blood: +My mother was hardly willing to let me; +But knowledge worth having I fain would get me. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then you have reached the right place now. + +STUDENT + +I'd like to leave it, I must avow; +I find these walls, these vaulted spaces +Are anything but pleasant places. +Tis all so cramped and close and mean; +One sees no tree, no glimpse of green, +And when the lecture-halls receive me, +Seeing, hearing, and thinking leave me. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +All that depends on habitude. +So from its mother's breasts a child +At first, reluctant, takes its food, +But soon to seek them is beguiled. +Thus, at the breasts of Wisdom clinging, +Thou'lt find each day a greater rapture bringing. + +STUDENT + +I'll hang thereon with joy, and freely drain them; +But tell me, pray, the proper means to gain them. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Explain, before you further speak, +The special faculty you seek. + +STUDENT + +I crave the highest erudition; +And fain would make my acquisition +All that there is in Earth and Heaven, +In Nature and in Science too. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Here is the genuine path for you; +Yet strict attention must be given. + +STUDENT + +Body and soul thereon I'll wreak; +Yet, truly, I've some inclination +On summer holidays to seek +A little freedom and recreation. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Use well your time! It flies so swiftly from us; +But time through order may be won, I promise. +So, Friend (my views to briefly sum), +First, the _collegium logicum_. +There will your mind be drilled and braced, +As if in Spanish boots 'twere laced, +And thus, to graver paces brought, +'Twill plod along the path of thought, +Instead of shooting here and there, +A will-o'-the-wisp in murky air. +Days will be spent to bid you know, +What once you did at a single blow, +Like eating and drinking, free and strong,-- +That one, two, three! thereto belong. +Truly the fabric of mental fleece +Resembles a weaver's masterpiece, +Where a thousand threads one treadle throws, +Where fly the shuttles hither and thither. +Unseen the threads are knit together. +And an infinite combination grows. +Then, the philosopher steps in +And shows, no otherwise it could have been: +The first was so, the second so, +Therefore the third and fourth are so; +Were not the first and second, then +The third and fourth had never been. +The scholars are everywhere believers, +But never succeed in being weavers. +He who would study organic existence, +First drives out the soul with rigid persistence; +Then the parts in his hand he may hold and class, +But the spiritual link is lost, alas! +_Encheiresin natures_, this Chemistry names, +Nor knows how herself she banters and blames! + +STUDENT + +I cannot understand you quite. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Your mind will shortly be set aright, +When you have learned, all things reducing, +To classify them for your using. + +STUDENT + +I feel as stupid, from all you've said, +As if a mill-wheel whirled in my head! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And after--first and foremost duty--Of +Metaphysics learn the use and beauty! +See that you most profoundly gain +What does not suit the human brain! +A splendid word to serve, you'll find +For what goes in--or won't go in--your mind. +But first, at least this half a year, +To order rigidly adhere; +Five hours a day, you understand, +And when the clock strikes, be on hand! +Prepare beforehand for your part +With paragraphs all got by heart, +So you can better watch, and look +That naught is said but what is in the book: +Yet in thy writing as unwearied be, +As did the Holy Ghost dictate to thee! + +STUDENT + +No need to tell me twice to do it! +I think, how useful 'tis to write; +For what one has, in black and white, +One carries home and then goes through it. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yet choose thyself a faculty! + +STUDENT + +I cannot reconcile myself to Jurisprudence. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Nor can I therefore greatly blame you students: +I know what science this has come to be. +All rights and laws are still transmitted +Like an eternal sickness of the race,-- +From generation unto generation fitted, +And shifted round from place to place. +Reason becomes a sham, Beneficence a worry: +Thou art a grandchild, therefore woe to thee! +The right born with us, ours in verity, +This to consider, there's, alas! no hurry. + +STUDENT + +My own disgust is strengthened by your speech: +O lucky he, whom you shall teach! +I've almost for Theology decided. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I should not wish to see you here misguided: +For, as regards this science, let me hint +'Tis very hard to shun the false direction; +There's so much secret poison lurking in 't, +So like the medicine, it baffles your detection. +Hear, therefore, one alone, for that is best, in sooth, +And simply take your master's words for truth. +On _words_ let your attention centre! +Then through the safest gate you'll enter +The temple-halls of Certainty. + +STUDENT + +Yet in the word must some idea be. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Of course! But only shun too over-sharp a tension, +For just where fails the comprehension, +A word steps promptly in as deputy. +With words 'tis excellent disputing; +Systems to words 'tis easy suiting; +On words 'tis excellent believing; +No word can ever lose a jot from thieving. + +STUDENT + +Pardon! With many questions I detain you. +Yet must I trouble you again. +Of Medicine I still would fain +Hear one strong word that might explain you. +Three years is but a little space. +And, God! who can the field embrace? +If one some index could be shown, +'Twere easier groping forward, truly. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_aside_) + +I'm tired enough of this dry tone,-- +Must play the Devil again, and fully. + +(_Aloud_) + +To grasp the spirit of Medicine is easy: +Learn of the great and little world your fill, +To let it go at last, so please ye, +Just as God will! +In vain that through the realms of science you may drift; +Each one learns only--just what learn he can: +Yet he who grasps the Moment's gift, +He is the proper man. +Well-made you are, 'tis not to be denied, +The rest a bold address will win you; +If you but in yourself confide, +At once confide all others in you. +To lead the women, learn the special feeling! +Their everlasting aches and groans, +In thousand tones, +Have all one source, one mode of healing; +And if your acts are half discreet, +You'll always have them at your feet. +A title first must draw and interest them, +And show that yours all other arts exceeds; +Then, as a greeting, you are free to touch and test them, +While, thus to do, for years another pleads. +You press and count the pulse's dances, +And then, with burning sidelong glances, +You clasp the swelling hips, to see +If tightly laced her corsets be. + +STUDENT + +That's better, now! The How and Where, one sees. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My worthy friend, gray are all theories, +And green alone Life's golden tree. + +STUDENT + +I swear to you, 'tis like a dream to me. +Might I again presume, with trust unbounded, +To hear your wisdom thoroughly expounded? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Most willingly, to what extent I may. + +STUDENT + +I cannot really go away: +Allow me that my album first I reach you,-- +Grant me this favor, I beseech you! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Assuredly. + +(_He writes, and returns the book_.) + +STUDENT (_reads_) + +_Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum_. +(_Closes the book with reverence, and withdraws_) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Follow the ancient text, and the snake thou wast ordered to trample! +With all thy likeness to God, thou'lt yet be a sorry example! + +(FAUST _enters_.) + +FAUST + +Now, whither shall we go? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +As best it pleases thee. +The little world, and then the great, we'll see. +With what delight, what profit winning, +Shalt thou sponge through the term beginning! + +FAUST + +Yet with the flowing beard I wear, +Both ease and grace will fail me there. +The attempt, indeed, were a futile strife; +I never could learn the ways of life. +I feel so small before others, and thence +Should always find embarrassments. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My friend, thou soon shalt lose all such misgiving: +Be thou but self-possessed, thou hast the art of living! + +FAUST + +How shall we leave the house, and start? +Where hast thou servant, coach and horses? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We'll spread this cloak with proper art, +Then through the air direct our courses. +But only, on so bold a flight, +Be sure to have thy luggage light. +A little burning air, which I shall soon prepare us, +Above the earth will nimbly bear us, +And, if we're light, we'll travel swift and clear: +I gratulate thee on thy new career! + +[Illustration] + + + + +V + + +AUERBACH'S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG +CAROUSAL OF JOLLY COMPANIONS + +FROSCH + +Is no one laughing? no one drinking? +I'll teach you how to grin, I'm thinking. +To-day you're like wet straw, so tame; +And usually you're all aflame. + +BRANDER + +Now that's your fault; from you we nothing see, +No beastliness and no stupidity. + +FROSCH + +(_Pours a glass of wine over_ BRANDER'S _head_.) +There's both together! + +BRANDER + +Twice a swine! + +FROSCH + +You wanted them: I've given you mine. + +SIEBEL + +Turn out who quarrels--out the door! +With open throat sing chorus, drink and roar! +Up! holla! ho! + +ALTMAYER + +Woe's me, the fearful bellow! +Bring cotton, quick! He's split my ears, that fellow. + +SIEBEL + +When the vault echoes to the song, +One first perceives the bass is deep and strong. + +FROSCH + +Well said! and out with him that takes the least offence! +_Ah, tara, lara da_! + +ALTMAYER + +_Ah, tara, lara, da_! + +FROSCH + +The throats are tuned, commence! +(_Sings_.) +_The dear old holy Roman realm, +How does it hold together_? + +BRANDER + +A nasty song! Fie! a political song-- +A most offensive song! Thank God, each morning, therefore, +That you have not the Roman realm to care for! +At least, I hold it so much gain for me, +That I nor Chancellor nor Kaiser be. +Yet also we must have a ruling head, I hope, +And so we'll choose ourselves a Pope. +You know the quality that can +Decide the choice, and elevate the man. + +FROSCH (_sings_) + + _Soar up, soar up, Dame Nightingale! + Ten thousand times my sweetheart hail!_ + +SIEBEL + +No, greet my sweetheart not! I tell you, I'll resent it. + +FROSCH + +My sweetheart greet and kiss! I dare you to prevent it! + + (_Sings_.) + + _Draw the latch! the darkness makes: + Draw the latch! the lover wakes. + Shut the latch! the morning breaks_. + +SIEBEL + +Yes, sing away, sing on, and praise, and brag of her! +I'll wait my proper time for laughter: +Me by the nose she led, and now she'll lead you after. +Her paramour should be an ugly gnome, +Where four roads cross, in wanton play to meet her: +An old he-goat, from Blocksberg coming home, +Should his good-night in lustful gallop bleat her! +A fellow made of genuine flesh and blood +Is for the wench a deal too good. +Greet her? Not I: unless, when meeting, +To smash her windows be a greeting! + +BRANDER (_pounding on the table_) + +Attention! Hearken now to me! +Confess, Sirs, I know how to live. +Enamored persons here have we, +And I, as suits their quality, +Must something fresh for their advantage give. +Take heed! 'Tis of the latest cut, my strain, +And all strike in at each refrain! + + (_He sings_.) + + There was a rat in the cellar-nest, + Whom fat and butter made smoother: + He had a paunch beneath his vest + Like that of Doctor Luther. + The cook laid poison cunningly, + And then as sore oppressed was he + As if he had love in his bosom. + + CHORUS (_shouting_) + + As if he had love in his bosom! + + BRANDER + + He ran around, he ran about, + His thirst in puddles laving; + He gnawed and scratched the house throughout. + But nothing cured his raving. + He whirled and jumped, with torment mad, + And soon enough the poor beast had, + As if he had love in his bosom. + + CHORUS + + As if he had love in his bosom! + + BRANDER + + And driven at last, in open day, + He ran into the kitchen, + Fell on the hearth, and squirming lay, + In the last convulsion twitching. + Then laughed the murderess in her glee: + "Ha! ha! he's at his last gasp," said she, + "As if he had love in his bosom!" + +CHORUS + + As if he had love in his bosom! + +SIEBEL + +How the dull fools enjoy the matter! +To me it is a proper art +Poison for such poor rats to scatter. + +BRANDER + +Perhaps you'll warmly take their part? + +ALTMAYER + +The bald-pate pot-belly I have noted: +Misfortune tames him by degrees; +For in the rat by poison bloated +His own most natural form he sees. + +FAUST AND MEPHISTOPHELES + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Before all else, I bring thee hither +Where boon companions meet together, +To let thee see how smooth life runs away. +Here, for the folk, each day's a holiday: +With little wit, and ease to suit them, +They whirl in narrow, circling trails, +Like kittens playing with their tails? +And if no headache persecute them, +So long the host may credit give, +They merrily and careless live. + +BRANDER + +The fact is easy to unravel, +Their air's so odd, they've just returned from travel: +A single hour they've not been here. + +FROSCH + +You've verily hit the truth! Leipzig to me is dear: +Paris in miniature, how it refines its people! + +SIEBEL + +Who are the strangers, should you guess? + +FROSCH + +Let me alone! I'll set them first to drinking, +And then, as one a child's tooth draws, with cleverness, +I'll worm their secret out, I'm thinking. +They're of a noble house, that's very clear: +Haughty and discontented they appear. + +BRANDER + +They're mountebanks, upon a revel. + +ALTMAYER + +Perhaps. + +FROSCH + +Look out, I'll smoke them now! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Not if he had them by the neck, I vow, +Would e'er these people scent the Devil! + +FAUST +Fair greeting, gentlemen! + +SIEBEL + +Our thanks: we give the same. +(_Murmurs, inspecting_ MEPHISTOPHELES _from the side_.) +In one foot is the fellow lame? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Is it permitted that we share your leisure? +In place of cheering drink, which one seeks vainly here, +Your company shall give us pleasure. + +ALTMAYER + +A most fastidious person you appear. + + +FROSCH + +No doubt 'twas late when you from Rippach started? +And supping there with Hans occasioned your delay? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We passed, without a call, to-day. +At our last interview, before we parted +Much of his cousins did he speak, entreating +That we should give to each his kindly greeting. + +(_He bows to_ FROSCH.) + +ALTMAYER (_aside_) + +You have it now! he understands. + +SIEBEL + +A knave sharp-set! + +FROSCH + +Just wait awhile: I'll have him yet. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +If I am right, we heard the sound +Of well-trained voices, singing chorus; +And truly, song must here rebound +Superbly from the arches o'er us. + +FROSCH + +Are you, perhaps, a virtuoso? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O no! my wish is great, my power is only so-so. + +ALTMAYER + +Give us a song! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +If you desire, a number. + +SIEBEL + +So that it be a bran-new strain! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We've just retraced our way from. Spain, +The lovely land of wine, and song, and slumber. + +(_Sings_.) + +There was a king once reigning, +Who had a big black flea-- + +FROSCH + +Hear, hear! A flea! D'ye rightly take the jest? +I call a flea a tidy guest. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_sings_) + + There was a king once reigning, + Who had a big black flea, + And loved him past explaining, + As his own son were he. + He called his man of stitches; + The tailor came straightway: + Here, measure the lad for breeches. + And measure his coat, I say! + +BRANDER + +But mind, allow the tailor no caprices: +Enjoin upon him, as his head is dear, +To most exactly measure, sew and shear, +So that the breeches have no creases! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + In silk and velvet gleaming + He now was wholly drest-- + Had a coat with ribbons streaming, + A cross upon his breast. + He had the first of stations, + A minister's star and name; + And also all his relations + Great lords at court became. + + And the lords and ladies of honor + Were plagued, awake and in bed; + The queen she got them upon her, + The maids were bitten and bled. + And they did not dare to brush them, + Or scratch them, day or night: + We crack them and we crush them, + At once, whene'er they bite. + + CHORUS (_shouting_) + + We crack them and we crush them, + At once, whene'er they bite! + +FROSCH +Bravo! bravo! that was fine. + +SIEBEL + +Every flea may it so befall! + +BRANDER + +Point your fingers and nip them all! + +ALTMAYER + +Hurrah for Freedom! Hurrah for wine! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I fain would drink with you, my glass to Freedom clinking, +If 'twere a better wine that here I see you drinking. + +SIEBEL + +Don't let us hear that speech again! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Did I not fear the landlord might complain, +I'd treat these worthy guests, with pleasure, +To some from out our cellar's treasure. + +SIEBEL + +Just treat, and let the landlord me arraign! + +FROSCH + +And if the wine be good, our praises shall be ample. +But do not give too very small a sample; +For, if its quality I decide, +With a good mouthful I must be supplied. + +ALTMAYER (_aside_) + +They're from the Rhine! I guessed as much, before. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Bring me a gimlet here! + +BRANDER + +What shall therewith be done? +You've not the casks already at the door? + +ALTMAYER + +Yonder, within the landlord's box of tools, there's one! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_takes the gimlet_) + +(_To_ FROSCH.) + +Now, give me of your taste some intimation. + +FROSCH + +How do you mean? Have you so many kinds? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The choice is free: make up your minds. + +ALTMAYER (_to_ FROSCH) + +Aha! you lick your chops, from sheer anticipation. + +FROSCH + +Good! if I have the choice, so let the wine be Rhenish! +Our Fatherland can best the sparkling cup replenish. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_boring a hole in the edge of the table, at the place where_ +FROSCH _sits_) + +Get me a little wax, to make the stoppers, quick! + +ALTMAYER + +Ah! I perceive a juggler's trick. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ BRANDER) + +And you? + +BRANDER + +Champagne shall be my wine, +And let it sparkle fresh and fine! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_bores: in the meantime one has made the wax stoppers, and +plugged the holes with them_.) + +BRANDER + +What's foreign one can't always keep quite clear of, +For good things, oft, are not so near; +A German can't endure the French to see or hear of, +Yet drinks their wines with hearty cheer. + +SIEBEL + +(_as_ MEPHISTOPHELES _approaches his seat_) +For me, I grant, sour wine is out of place; +Fill up my glass with sweetest, will you? + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_boring_) + +Tokay shall flow at once, to fill you! + +ALTMAYER + +No--look me, Sirs, straight in the face! +I see you have your fun at our expense. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O no! with gentlemen of such pretence, +That were to venture far, indeed. +Speak out, and make your choice with speed! +With what a vintage can I serve you? + +ALTMAYER + +With any--only satisfy our need. + +(_After the holes have been bored and plugged_) + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_with singular gestures_) + + Grapes the vine-stem bears, + Horns the he-goat wears! + The grapes are juicy, the vines are wood, + The wooden table gives wine as good! + Into the depths of Nature peer,-- + Only believe there's a miracle here! + +Now draw the stoppers, and drink your fill! + +ALL + +(_as they draw out the stoppers, and the wine which has been +desired flows into the glass of each)_ + +O beautiful fountain, that flows at will! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But have a care that you nothing spill! + +(_They drink repeatedly_.) + +ALL (_sing_) + + As 'twere five hundred hogs, we feel + So cannibalic jolly! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +See, now, the race is happy--it is free! + +FAUST + +To leave them is my inclination. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Take notice, first! their bestiality +Will make a brilliant demonstration. + +SIEBEL + +(_drinks carelessly: the wine spills upon the earth, and turns to +flame_) + +Help! Fire! Help! Hell-fire is sent! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_charming away the flame)_ + +Be quiet, friendly element! + +(_To the revellers_) + +A bit of purgatory 'twas for this time, merely. + +SIEBEL + +What mean you? Wait!--you'll pay for't dearly! +You'll know us, to your detriment. + +FROSCH + +Don't try that game a second time upon us! + +ALTMAYER + +I think we'd better send him packing quietly. + +SIEBEL + +What, Sir! you dare to make so free, +And play your hocus-pocus on us! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Be still, old wine-tub. + +SIEBEL + +Broomstick, you! +You face it out, impertinent and heady? + +BRANDER + +Just wait! a shower of blows is ready. + +ALTMAYER + +(_draws a stopper out of the table: fire flies in his face_.) +I burn! I burn! + +SIEBEL + +'Tis magic! Strike-- +The knave is outlawed! Cut him as you like! +(_They draw their knives, and rush upon_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_with solemn gestures_) + + False word and form of air, + Change place, and sense ensnare! + Be here--and there! + +(_They stand amazed and look at each other_.) + +ALTMAYER + +Where am I? What a lovely land! + +FROSCH + +Vines? Can I trust my eyes? + +SIEBEL + +And purple grapes at hand! + +BRANDER + +Here, over this green arbor bending, +See what a vine! what grapes depending! + +(_He takes_ SIEBEL _by the nose: the others do the same reciprocally, +and raise their knives_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_as above_) + +Loose, Error, from their eyes the band, +And how the Devil jests, be now enlightened! + +(_He disappears with_ FAUST: _the revellers start and separate_.) + +SIEBEL + +What happened? + +ALTMAYER + +How? + +FROSCH + +Was that your nose I tightened? + +BRANDER (_to_ SIEBEL) + +And yours that still I have in hand? + +ALTMAYER + +It was a blow that went through every limb! +Give me a chair! I sink! my senses swim. + +FROSCH + +But what has happened, tell me now? + +SIEBEL + +Where is he? If I catch the scoundrel hiding, +He shall not leave alive, I vow. + +ALTMAYER + +I saw him with these eyes upon a wine-cask riding +Out of the cellar-door, just now. +Still in my feet the fright like lead is weighing. +(_He turns towards the table_.) +Why! If the fount of wine should still be playing? + +SIEBEL + +'Twas all deceit, and lying, false design! + +FROSCH + +And yet it seemed as I were drinking wine. + +BRANDER + +But with the grapes how was it, pray? + +ALTMAYER + +Shall one believe no miracles, just say! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +VI + + +WITCHES' KITCHEN + +(_Upon a low hearth stands a great caldron, under which a fire +is burning. Various figures appear in the vapors which +rise from the caldron. An ape sits beside it, skims it, and +watches lest it boil over. The he-ape, with the young +ones, sits near and warms himself. Ceiling and walls are +covered with the most fantastic witch-implements_.) + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +These crazy signs of witches' craft repel me! +I shall recover, dost thou tell me, +Through this insane, chaotic play? +From an old hag shall I demand assistance? +And will her foul mess take away +Full thirty years from my existence? +Woe's me, canst thou naught better find! +Another baffled hope must be lamented: +Has Nature, then, and has a noble mind +Not any potent balsam yet invented? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Once more, my friend, thou talkest sensibly. +There is, to make thee young, a simpler mode and apter; +But in another book 'tis writ for thee, +And is a most eccentric chapter. + +FAUST + +Yet will I know it. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Good! the method is revealed +Without or gold or magic or physician. +Betake thyself to yonder field, +There hoe and dig, as thy condition; +Restrain thyself, thy sense and will +Within a narrow sphere to flourish; +With unmixed food thy body nourish; +Live with the ox as ox, and think it not a theft +That thou manur'st the acre which thou reapest;-- +That, trust me, is the best mode left, +Whereby for eighty years thy youth thou keepest! + +FAUST + +I am not used to that; I cannot stoop to try it-- +To take the spade in hand, and ply it. +The narrow being suits me not at all. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then to thine aid the witch must call. + +FAUST + +Wherefore the hag, and her alone? +Canst thou thyself not brew the potion? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That were a charming sport, I own: +I'd build a thousand bridges meanwhile, I've a notion. +Not Art and Science serve, alone; +Patience must in the work be shown. +Long is the calm brain active in creation; +Time, only, strengthens the fine fermentation. +And all, belonging thereunto, +Is rare and strange, howe'er you take it: +The Devil taught the thing, 'tis true, +And yet the Devil cannot make it. +(_Perceiving the Animals_) +See, what a delicate race they be! +That is the maid! the man is he! +(_To the Animals_) +It seems the mistress has gone away? + +THE ANIMALS + +Carousing, to-day! +Off and about, +By the chimney out! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What time takes she for dissipating? + +THE ANIMALS + +While we to warm our paws are waiting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +How findest thou the tender creatures? + +FAUST + +Absurder than I ever yet did see. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why, just such talk as this, for me, +Is that which has the most attractive features! + +(_To the Animals_) + +But tell me now, ye cursed puppets, +Why do ye stir the porridge so? + +THE ANIMALS + +We're cooking watery soup for beggars. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then a great public you can show. + +THE HE-APE + +(_comes up and fawns on_ MEPHISTOPHELES) + + O cast thou the dice! + Make me rich in a trice, + Let me win in good season! + Things are badly controlled, + And had I but gold, + So had I my reason. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +How would the ape be sure his luck enhances. +Could he but try the lottery's chances! + +(_In the meantime the young apes have been playing with a +large ball, which they now roll forward_.) + +THE HE-APE + + The world's the ball: + Doth rise and fall, + And roll incessant: + Like glass doth ring, + A hollow thing,-- + How soon will't spring, + And drop, quiescent? + Here bright it gleams, + Here brighter seems: + I live at present! + Dear son, I say, + Keep thou away! + Thy doom is spoken! + 'Tis made of clay, + And will be broken. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What means the sieve? + +THE HE-APE (_taking it down_) + + Wert thou the thief, + I'd know him and shame him. + +(_He runs to the_ SHE-APE, _and lets her look through it_.) + + Look through the sieve! + Know'st thou the thief, + And darest not name him? + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_approaching the fire)_ + +And what's this pot? + +HE-APE AND SHE-APE + + The fool knows it not! + He knows not the pot, + He knows not the kettle! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Impertinent beast! + +THE HE-APE + +Take the brush here, at least, +And sit down on the settle! + +(_He invites_ MEPHISTOPHELES _to sit down_.) + +FAUST + +(_who during all this time has been standing before a mirror, +now approaching and now retreating from it_) + +What do I see? What heavenly form revealed +Shows through the glass from Magic's fair dominions! +O lend me, Love, the swiftest of thy pinions, +And bear me to her beauteous field! +Ah, if I leave this spot with fond designing, +If I attempt to venture near, +Dim, as through gathering mist, her charms appear!-- +A woman's form, in beauty shining! +Can woman, then, so lovely be? +And must I find her body, there reclining, +Of all the heavens the bright epitome? +Can Earth with such a thing be mated? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why, surely, if a God first plagues Himself six days, +Then, self-contented, _Bravo_! says, +Must something clever be created. +This time, thine eyes be satiate! +I'll yet detect thy sweetheart and ensnare her, +And blest is he, who has the lucky fate, +Some day, as bridegroom, home to bear her. + +(FAUST _gazes continually in the mirror_. MEPHISTOPHELES, +_stretching himself out on the settle, and playing with the +brush, continues to speak_.) + +So sit I, like the King upon his throne: +I hold the sceptre, here,--and lack the crown alone. + +THE ANIMALS + +(_who up to this time have been making all kinds of fantastic +movements together bring a crown to_ MEPHISTOPHELES +_with great noise_.) + + O be thou so good + With sweat and with blood + The crown to belime! + +(_They handle the crown awkwardly and break it into two +pieces, with which they spring around_.) + + 'Tis done, let it be! + We speak and we see, + We hear and we rhyme! + +FAUST (_before the mirror_) + +Woe's me! I fear to lose my wits. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_pointing to the Animals_) + +My own head, now, is really nigh to sinking. + +THE ANIMALS + + If lucky our hits, + And everything fits, + 'Tis thoughts, and we're thinking! + +FAUST (_as above_) + +My bosom burns with that sweet vision; +Let us, with speed, away from here! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_in the same attitude_) + +One must, at least, make this admission-- +They're poets, genuine and sincere. + +(_The caldron, which the_ SHE-APE _has up to this time neglected +to watch, begins to boil over: there ensues a great flame_, +_which blazes out the chimney. The_ WITCH _comes careering +down through the flame, with terrible cries_.) + +THE WITCH + + Ow! ow! ow! ow! + The damnéd beast--the curséd sow! + To leave the kettle, and singe the Frau! + Accurséd fere! + +(_Perceiving_ FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) + + What is that here? + Who are you here? + What want you thus? + Who sneaks to us? + The fire-pain + Burn bone and brain! + +(_She plunges the skimming-ladle into the caldron, and scatters +flames towards_ FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, _and the Animals. +The Animals whimper_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_reversing the brush, which he has been holding in his hand, +and striding among the jars and glasses_) + + In two! in two! + There lies the brew! + There lies the glass! + The joke will pass, + As time, foul ass! + To the singing of thy crew. + +(_As the_ WITCH _starts back, full of wrath and horror_) + +Ha! know'st thou me? Abomination, thou! +Know'st thou, at last, thy Lord and Master? +What hinders me from smiting now +Thee and thy monkey-sprites with fell disaster? +Hast for the scarlet coat no reverence? +Dost recognize no more the tall cock's-feather? +Have I concealed this countenance?-- +Must tell my name, old face of leather? + +THE WITCH + +O pardon, Sir, the rough salute! +Yet I perceive no cloven foot; +And both your ravens, where are _they_ now? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +This time, I'll let thee 'scape the debt; +For since we two together met, +'Tis verily full many a day now. +Culture, which smooth the whole world licks, +Also unto the Devil sticks. +The days of that old Northern phantom now are over: +Where canst thou horns and tail and claws discover? +And, as regards the foot, which I can't spare, in truth, +'Twould only make the people shun me; +Therefore I've worn, like many a spindly youth, +False calves these many years upon me. + +THE WITCH (_dancing_) + +Reason and sense forsake my brain, +Since I behold Squire Satan here again! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Woman, from such a name refrain! + +THE WITCH + +Why so? What has it done to thee? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +It's long been written in the Book of Fable; +Yet, therefore, no whit better men we see: +The Evil One has left, the evil ones are stable. +Sir Baron call me thou, then is the matter good; +A cavalier am I, like others in my bearing. +Thou hast no doubt about my noble blood: +See, here's the coat-of-arms that I am wearing! + +(_He makes an indecent gesture_.) + +THE WITCH (_laughs immoderately_) + +Ha! ha! That's just your way, I know: +A rogue you are, and you were always so. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +My friend, take proper heed, I pray! +To manage witches, this is just the way. + +THE WITCH + +Wherein, Sirs, can I be of use? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Give us a goblet of the well-known juice! +But, I must beg you, of the oldest brewage; +The years a double strength produce. + +THE WITCH + +With all my heart! Now, here's a bottle, +Wherefrom, sometimes, I wet my throttle, +Which, also, not the slightest, stinks; +And willingly a glass I'll fill him. + +(_Whispering_) + +Yet, if this man without due preparation drinks, +As well thou know'st, within an hour 'twill kill him. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +He is a friend of mine, with whom it will agree, +And he deserves thy kitchen's best potation: +Come, draw thy circle, speak thine adjuration, +And fill thy goblet full and free! + +THE WITCH + +(_with fantastic gestures draws a circle and places mysterious +articles therein; meanwhile the glasses begin to ring, the +caldron to sound, and make a musical accompaniment. +Finally she brings a great book, and stations in the circle +the Apes, who are obliged to serve as reading-desk, and to +hold the torches. She then beckons_ FAUST _to approach_.) + +FAUST (_to_ MEPHISTOPHELES) + +Now, what shall come of this? the creatures antic, +The crazy stuff, the gestures frantic,-- +All the repulsive cheats I view,-- +Are known to me, and hated, too. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O, nonsense! That's a thing for laughter; +Don't be so terribly severe! +She juggles you as doctor now, that, after, +The beverage may work the proper cheer. + +(_He persuades_ FAUST _to step into the circle_.) + +THE WITCH + +(_begins to declaim, with much emphasis, from the book_) + + See, thus it's done! + Make ten of one, + And two let be, + Make even three, + And rich thou 'It be. + Cast o'er the four! + From five and six + (The witch's tricks) + Make seven and eight, + 'Tis finished straight! + And nine is one, + And ten is none. + This is the witch's once-one's-one! + +FAUST + +She talks like one who raves in fever. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Thou'lt hear much more before we leave her. +'Tis all the same: the book I can repeat, +Such time I've squandered o'er the history: +A contradiction thus complete +Is always for the wise, no less than fools, a mystery. +The art is old and new, for verily +All ages have been taught the matter,-- +By Three and One, and One and Three, +Error instead of Truth to scatter. +They prate and teach, and no one interferes; +All from the fellowship of fools are shrinking. +Man usually believes, if only words he hears, +That also with them goes material for thinking! + +THE WITCH (_continues_) + + The lofty skill + Of Science, still + From all men deeply hidden! + Who takes no thought, + To him 'tis brought, + 'Tis given unsought, unbidden! + +FAUST + +What nonsense she declaims before us! +My head is nigh to split, I fear: +It seems to me as if I hear +A hundred thousand fools in chorus. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O Sibyl excellent, enough of adjuration! +But hither bring us thy potation, +And quickly fill the beaker to the brim! +This drink will bring my friend no injuries: +He is a man of manifold degrees, +And many draughts are known to him. + +(_The_ WITCH, _with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a +cup; as_ FAUST _sets it to his lips, a light flame arises_.) + +Down with it quickly! Drain it off! +'Twill warm thy heart with new desire: +Art with the Devil hand and glove, +And wilt thou be afraid of fire? + +(_The_ WITCH _breaks the circle_: FAUST _steps forth_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And now, away! Thou dar'st not rest. + +THE WITCH + +And much good may the liquor do thee! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to the_ WITCH) + +Thy wish be on Walpurgis Night expressed; +What boon I have, shall then be given unto thee. + +THE WITCH + +Here is a song, which, if you sometimes sing, +You'll find it of peculiar operation. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Come, walk at once! A rapid occupation +Must start the needful perspiration, +And through thy frame the liquor's potence fling. +The noble indolence I'll teach thee then to treasure, +And soon thou'lt be aware, with keenest thrills of pleasure, +How Cupid stirs and leaps, on light and restless wing. + +FAUST + +One rapid glance within the mirror give me, +How beautiful that woman-form! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No, no! The paragon of all, believe me, +Thou soon shalt see, alive and warm. + +_(Aside)_ + +Thou'lt find, this drink thy blood compelling, +Each woman beautiful as Helen! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +VII + + +STREET + +FAUST MARGARET _(passing by)_ + +FAUST + +Fair lady, let it not offend you, +That arm and escort I would lend you! + +MARGARET + +I'm neither lady, neither fair, +And home I can go without your care. + +[_She releases herself, and exit_. + +FAUST + +By Heaven, the girl is wondrous fair! +Of all I've seen, beyond compare; +So sweetly virtuous and pure, +And yet a little pert, be sure! +The lip so red, the cheek's clear dawn, +[Illustration:] +I'll not forget while the world rolls on! +How she cast down her timid eyes, +Deep in my heart imprinted lies: +How short and sharp of speech was she, +Why, 'twas a real ecstasy! + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_) + +FAUST + +Hear, of that girl I'd have possession! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Which, then? + +FAUST + +The one who just went by. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +She, there? She's coming from confession, +Of every sin absolved; for I, +Behind her chair, was listening nigh. +So innocent is she, indeed, +That to confess she had no need. +I have no power o'er souls so green. + +FAUST + +And yet, she's older than fourteen. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +How now! You're talking like Jack Rake, +Who every flower for himself would take, +And fancies there are no favors more, +Nor honors, save for him in store; +Yet always doesn't the thing succeed. + +FAUST + +Most Worthy Pedagogue, take heed! +Let not a word of moral law be spoken! +I claim, I tell thee, all my right; +And if that image of delight +Rest not within mine arms to-night, +At midnight is our compact broken. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But think, the chances of the case! +I need, at least, a fortnight's space, +To find an opportune occasion. + +FAUST + +Had I but seven hours for all, +I should not on the Devil call, +But win her by my own persuasion. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +You almost like a Frenchman prate; +Yet, pray, don't take it as annoyance! +Why, all at once, exhaust the joyance? +Your bliss is by no means so great +As if you'd use, to get control, +All sorts of tender rigmarole, +And knead and shape her to your thought, +As in Italian tales 'tis taught. + +FAUST + +Without that, I have appetite. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But now, leave jesting out of sight! +I tell you, once for all, that speed +With this fair girl will not succeed; +By storm she cannot captured be; +We must make use of strategy. + +FAUST + +Get me something the angel keeps! +Lead me thither where she sleeps! +Get me a kerchief from her breast,-- +A garter that her knee has pressed! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That you may see how much I'd fain +Further and satisfy your pain, +We will no longer lose a minute; +I'll find her room to-day, and take you in it. + +FAUST + +And shall I see--possess her? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No! +Unto a neighbor she must go, +And meanwhile thou, alone, mayst glow +With every hope of future pleasure, +Breathing her atmosphere in fullest measure. + +FAUST + +Can we go thither? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +'Tis too early yet. + +FAUST + +A gift for her I bid thee get! +[_Exit_. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Presents at once? That's good: he's certain to get at her! +Full many a pleasant place I know, +And treasures, buried long ago: +I must, perforce, look up the matter. _[Exit_. +[Illustration] + + + + +VIII + + +EVENING A SMALL, NEATLY KEPT CHAMBER + +MARGARET + +(_plaiting and binding up the braids of her hair_) + +I'd something give, could I but say +Who was that gentleman, to-day. +Surely a gallant man was he, +And of a noble family; +And much could I in his face behold,-- +And he wouldn't, else, have been so bold! + + [_Exit_ + +MEPHISTOPHELES FAUST + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Come in, but gently: follow me! + +FAUST (_after a moment's silence_) + +Leave me alone, I beg of thee! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_prying about_) + +Not every girl keeps things so neat. + +FAUST (_looking around_) + +O welcome, twilight soft and sweet, +That breathes throughout this hallowed shrine! +Sweet pain of love, bind thou with fetters fleet +The heart that on the dew of hope must pine! +How all around a sense impresses +Of quiet, order, and content! +This poverty what bounty blesses! +What bliss within this narrow den is pent! + +(_He throws himself into a leathern arm-chair near the bed_.) + +Receive me, thou, that in thine open arms +Departed joy and pain wert wont to gather! +How oft the children, with their ruddy charms, +Hung here, around this throne, where sat the father! +Perchance my love, amid the childish band, +Grateful for gifts the Holy Christmas gave her, +Here meekly kissed the grandsire's withered hand. +I feel, O maid! thy very soul +Of order and content around me whisper,-- +Which leads thee with its motherly control, +The cloth upon thy board bids smoothly thee unroll, +The sand beneath thy feet makes whiter, crisper. +O dearest hand, to thee 'tis given +To change this hut into a lower heaven! +And here! + +(_He lifts one of the bed-curtains_.) + +What sweetest thrill is in my blood! +Here could I spend whole hours, delaying: +Here Nature shaped, as if in sportive playing, +The angel blossom from the bud. +Here lay the child, with Life's warm essence +The tender bosom filled and fair, +And here was wrought, through holier, purer presence, +The form diviner beings wear! + +And I? What drew me here with power? +How deeply am I moved, this hour! +What seek I? Why so full my heart, and sore? +Miserable Faust! I know thee now no more. + +Is there a magic vapor here? +I came, with lust of instant pleasure, +And lie dissolved in dreams of love's sweet leisure! +Are we the sport of every changeful atmosphere? + +And if, this moment, came she in to me, +How would I for the fault atonement render! +How small the giant lout would be, +Prone at her feet, relaxed and tender! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Be quick! I see her there, returning. + +FAUST + +Go! go! I never will retreat. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Here is a casket, not unmeet, +Which elsewhere I have just been earning. +Here, set it in the press, with haste! +I swear, 'twill turn her head, to spy it: +Some baubles I therein had placed, +That you might win another by it. +True, child is child, and play is play. + +FAUST + +I know not, should I do it? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Ask you, pray? +Yourself, perhaps, would keep the bubble? +Then I suggest, 'twere fair and just +To spare the lovely day your lust, +And spare to me the further trouble. +You are not miserly, I trust? +I rub my hands, in expectation tender-- + +(_He places the casket in the press, and locks it again_.) + +Now quick, away! +The sweet young maiden to betray, +So that by wish and will you bend her; +And you look as though +To the lecture-hall you were forced to go,-- +As if stood before you, gray and loath, +Physics and Metaphysics both! +But away! [_Exeunt_. + +MARGARET (_with a lamp_) + +It is so close, so sultry, here! + +(_She opens the window_) + +And yet 'tis not so warm outside. +I feel, I know not why, such fear!-- +Would mother came!--where can she bide? +My body's chill and shuddering,-- +I'm but a silly, fearsome thing! + +(_She begins to sing while undressing_) + + There was a King in Thule, + Was faithful till the grave,-- + To whom his mistress, dying, + A golden goblet gave. + + Naught was to him more precious; + He drained it at every bout: + His eyes with tears ran over, + As oft as he drank thereout. + + When came his time of dying, + The towns in his land he told, + Naught else to his heir denying + Except the goblet of gold. + + He sat at the royal banquet + With his knights of high degree, + In the lofty hall of his fathers + In the Castle by the Sea. + + There stood the old carouser, + And drank the last life-glow; + And hurled the hallowed goblet + Into the tide below. + + He saw it plunging and filling, + And sinking deep in the sea: + Then fell his eyelids forever, + And never more drank he! + +(_She opens the press in order to arrange her clothes, and perceives +the casket of jewels_.) + +How comes that lovely casket here to me? +I locked the press, most certainly. +'Tis truly wonderful! What can within it be? +Perhaps 'twas brought by some one as a pawn, +And mother gave a loan thereon? +And here there hangs a key to fit: +I have a mind to open it. +What is that? God in Heaven! Whence came +Such things? Never beheld I aught so fair! +Rich ornaments, such as a noble dame +On highest holidays might wear! +How would the pearl-chain suit my hair? +Ah, who may all this splendor own? + +(_She adorns herself with the jewelry, and steps before the +mirror_.) + +Were but the ear-rings mine, alone! +One has at once another air. +What helps one's beauty, youthful blood? +One may possess them, well and good; +But none the more do others care. +They praise us half in pity, sure: +To gold still tends, +On gold depends +All, all! Alas, we poor! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +IX + + +PROMENADE + +(FAUST, _walking thoughtfully up and down. To him_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +By all love ever rejected! By hell-fire hot and unsparing! +I wish I knew something worse, that I might use it for +swearing! + +FAUST + +What ails thee? What is't gripes thee, elf? +A face like thine beheld I never. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I would myself unto the Devil deliver, +If I were not a Devil myself! + +FAUST + +Thy head is out of order, sadly: +It much becomes thee to be raving madly. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Just think, the pocket of a priest should get +The trinkets left for Margaret! +The mother saw them, and, instanter, +A secret dread began to haunt her. +Keen scent has she for tainted air; +She snuffs within her book of prayer, +And smells each article, to see +If sacred or profane it be; +So here she guessed, from every gem, +That not much blessing came with them. +"My child," she said, "ill-gotten good +Ensnares the soul, consumes the blood. +Before the Mother of God we'll lay it; +With heavenly manna she'll repay it!" +But Margaret thought, with sour grimace, +"A gift-horse is not out of place, +And, truly! godless cannot be +The one who brought such things to me." +A parson came, by the mother bidden: +He saw, at once, where the game was hidden, +And viewed it with a favor stealthy. +He spake: "That is the proper view,-- +Who overcometh, winneth too. +The Holy Church has a stomach healthy: +Hath eaten many a land as forfeit, +And never yet complained of surfeit: +The Church alone, beyond all question, +Has for ill-gotten goods the right digestion." + +FAUST + +A general practice is the same, +Which Jew and King may also claim. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then bagged the spangles, chains, and rings, +As if but toadstools were the things, +And thanked no less, and thanked no more +Than if a sack of nuts he bore,-- +Promised them fullest heavenly pay, +And deeply edified were they. + +FAUST + +And Margaret? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Sits unrestful still, +And knows not what she should, or will; +Thinks on the jewels, day and night, +But more on him who gave her such delight. + +FAUST + +The darling's sorrow gives me pain. +Get thou a set for her again! +The first was not a great display. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O yes, the gentleman finds it all child's-play! + +FAUST + +Fix and arrange it to my will; +And on her neighbor try thy skill! +Don't be a Devil stiff as paste, +But get fresh jewels to her taste! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, gracious Sir, in all obedience! + +[_Exit_ FAUST. + +Such an enamored fool in air would blow +Sun, moon, and all the starry legions, +To give his sweetheart a diverting show. + +[_Exit_. + +[Illustration] + + + + +X + + +THE NEIGHBOR'S HOUSE + +MARTHA (_solus_) + +God forgive my husband, yet he +Hasn't done his duty by me! +Off in the world he went straightway,-- +Left me lie in the straw where I lay. +And, truly, I did naught to fret him: +God knows I loved, and can't forget him! + +(_She weeps_.) + +Perhaps he's even dead! Ah, woe!-- +Had I a certificate to show! + +MARGARET (_comes_) + +Dame Martha! + +MARTHA + +Margaret! what's happened thee? + +MARGARET + +I scarce can stand, my knees are trembling! +I find a box, the first resembling, +Within my press! Of ebony,-- +And things, all splendid to behold, +And richer far than were the old. + +MARTHA + +You mustn't tell it to your mother! +'Twould go to the priest, as did the other. + +MARGARET + +Ah, look and see--just look and see! + +MARTHA (_adorning her_) + +O, what a blessed luck for thee! + +MARGARET + +But, ah! in the streets I dare not bear them, +Nor in the church be seen to wear them. + +MARTHA + +Yet thou canst often this way wander, +And secretly the jewels don, +Walk up and down an hour, before the mirror yonder,-- +We'll have our private joy thereon. +And then a chance will come, a holiday, +When, piece by piece, can one the things abroad display, +A chain at first, then other ornament: +Thy mother will not see, and stories we'll invent. + +MARGARET + +Whoever could have brought me things so precious? +That something's wrong, I feel suspicious. + +(_A knock_) + +Good Heaven! My mother can that have been? + +MARTHA (_peeping through the blind_) + +'Tis some strange gentleman.--Come in! + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_.) + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That I so boldly introduce me, +I beg you, ladies, to excuse me. + +(_Steps back reverently, on seeing_ MARGARET.) + +For Martha Schwerdtlein I'd inquire! + + +MARTHA + +I'm she: what does the gentleman desire? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_aside to her_) + +It is enough that you are she: +You've a visitor of high degree. +Pardon the freedom I have ta'en,-- +Will after noon return again. + + +MARTHA (_aloud_) + +Of all things in the world! Just hear-- +He takes thee for a lady, dear! + + +MARGARET + +I am a creature young and poor: +The gentleman's too kind, I'm sure. +The jewels don't belong to me. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Ah, not alone the jewelry! +The look, the manner, both betray-- +Rejoiced am I that I may stay! + + +MARTHA + +What is your business? I would fain-- + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I would I had a more cheerful strain! +Take not unkindly its repeating: +Your husband's dead, and sends a greeting. + + +MARTHA + +Is dead? Alas, that heart so true! +My husband dead! Let me die, too! + + +MARGARET + +Ah, dearest dame, let not your courage fail! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Hear me relate the mournful tale! + + +MARGARET + +Therefore I'd never love, believe me! +A loss like this to death would grieve me. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Joy follows woe, woe after joy comes flying. + + +MARTHA + +Relate his life's sad close to me! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +In Padua buried, he is lying +Beside the good Saint Antony, +Within a grave well consecrated, +For cool, eternal rest created. + + +MARTHA + +He gave you, further, no commission? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, one of weight, with many sighs: +Three hundred masses buy, to save him from perdition! +My hands are empty, otherwise. + + +MARTHA + +What! Not a pocket-piece? no jewelry? +What every journeyman within his wallet spares, +And as a token with him bears, +And rather starves or begs, than loses? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Madam, it is a grief to me; +Yet, on my word, his cash was put to proper uses. +Besides, his penitence was very sore, +And he lamented his ill fortune all the more. + + +MARGARET + +Alack, that men are so unfortunate! +Surely for his soul's sake full many a prayer I'll proffer. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +You well deserve a speedy marriage-offer: +You are so kind, compassionate. + + +MARGARET + +O, no! As yet, it would not do. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +If not a husband, then a beau for you! +It is the greatest heavenly blessing, +To have a dear thing for one's caressing. + + +MARGARET + +The country's custom is not so. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Custom, or not! It happens, though. + + +MARTHA + +Continue, pray! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + I stood beside his bed of dying. +'Twas something better than manure,-- +Half-rotten straw: and yet, he died a Christian, sure, +And found that heavier scores to his account were lying. +He cried: "I find my conduct wholly hateful! +To leave my wife, my trade, in manner so ungrateful! +Ah, the remembrance makes me die! +Would of my wrong to her I might be shriven!" + + +MARTHA (_weeping_) + +The dear, good man! Long since was he forgiven. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +"Yet she, God knows! was more to blame than I." + + +MARTHA + +He lied! What! On the brink of death he slandered? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +In the last throes his senses wandered, +If I such things but half can judge. +He said: "I had no time for play, for gaping freedom: +First children, and then work for bread to feed 'em,-- +For bread, in the widest sense, to drudge, +And could not even eat my share in peace and quiet!" + + +MARTHA + +Had he all love, all faith forgotten in his riot? +My work and worry, day and night? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Not so: the memory of it touched him quite. +Said he: "When I from Malta went away +My prayers for wife and little ones were zealous, +And such a luck from Heaven befell us, +We made a Turkish merchantman our prey, +That to the Soldan bore a mighty treasure. +Then I received, as was most fit, +Since bravery was paid in fullest measure, +My well-apportioned share of it." + + +MARTHA + +Say, how? Say, where? If buried, did he own it? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Who knows, now, whither the four winds have blown it? +A fair young damsel took him in her care, +As he in Naples wandered round, unfriended; +And she much love, much faith to him did bear, +So that he felt it till his days were ended. + + +MARTHA + +The villain! From his children thieving! +Even all the misery on him cast +Could not prevent his shameful way of living! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But see! He's dead therefrom, at last. +Were I in _your_ place, do not doubt me, +I'd mourn him decently a year, +And for another keep, meanwhile, my eyes about me. + + +MARTHA + +Ah, God! another one so dear +As was my first, this world will hardly give me. +There never was a sweeter fool than mine, +Only he loved to roam and leave me, +And foreign wenches and foreign wine, +And the damned throw of dice, indeed. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Well, well! That might have done, however, +If he had only been as clever, +And treated _your_ slips with as little heed. +I swear, with this condition, too, +I would, myself, change rings with you. + + +MARTHA + +The gentleman is pleased to jest. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I'll cut away, betimes, from here: +She'd take the Devil at his word, I fear. + +(_To_ MARGARET) + +How fares the heart within your breast? + + +MARGARET + +What means the gentleman? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_aside_) + + Sweet innocent, thou art! + +(_Aloud_.) + + Ladies, farewell! + + +MARGARET + +Farewell! + + +MARTHA + + A moment, ere we part! +I'd like to have a legal witness, +Where, how, and when he died, to certify his fitness. +Irregular ways I've always hated; +I want his death in the weekly paper stated. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, my good dame, a pair of witnesses +Always the truth establishes. +I have a friend of high condition, +Who'll also add his deposition. +I'll bring him here. + + +MARTHA + + Good Sir, pray do! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And this young lady will be present, too? +A gallant youth! has travelled far: +Ladies with him delighted are. + + +MARGARET + +Before him I should blush, ashamed. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Before no king that could be named! + + +MARTHA + +Behind the house, in my garden, then, +This eve we'll expect the gentlemen. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XI + + +A STREET + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +How is it? under way? and soon complete? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Ah, bravo! Do I find you burning? +Well, Margaret soon will still your yearning: +At Neighbor Martha's you'll this evening meet. +A fitter woman ne'er was made +To ply the pimp and gypsy trade! + +FAUST + +Tis well. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yet something is required from us. + +FAUST + +One service pays the other thus. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We've but to make a deposition valid +That now her husband's limbs, outstretched and pallid, +At Padua rest, in consecrated soil. + +FAUST + +Most wise! And first, of course, we'll make the journey + thither? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +_Sancta simplicitas_! no need of such a toil; +Depose, with knowledge or without it, either! + +FAUST + +If you've naught better, then, I'll tear your pretty plan! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Now, there you are! O holy man! +Is it the first time in your life you're driven +To bear false witness in a case? +Of God, the world and all that in it has a place, +Of Man, and all that moves the being of his race, +Have you not terms and definitions given +With brazen forehead, daring breast? +And, if you'll probe the thing profoundly, +Knew you so much--and you'll confess it roundly!-- +As here of Schwerdtlein's death and place of rest? + +FAUST + +Thou art, and thou remain'st, a sophist, liar. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, knew I not more deeply thy desire. +For wilt thou not, no lover fairer, +Poor Margaret flatter, and ensnare her, +And all thy soul's devotion swear her? + +FAUST + +And from my heart. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + 'Tis very fine! +Thine endless love, thy faith assuring, +The one almighty force enduring,-- +Will that, too, prompt this heart of thine? + +FAUST + +Hold! hold! It will!--If such my flame, +And for the sense and power intense +I seek, and cannot find, a name; +Then range with all my senses through creation, +Craving the speech of inspiration, +And call this ardor, so supernal, +Endless, eternal and eternal,-- +Is that a devilish lying game? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And yet I'm right! + +FAUST + + Mark this, I beg of thee! +And spare my lungs henceforth: whoever +Intends to have the right, if but his + tongue be clever, +Will have it, certainly. +But come: the further talking brings + disgust, +For thou art right, especially since I + must. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XII + + +GARDEN + +(MARGARET _on_ FAUST'S _arm_. MARTHA _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES +_walking up and down_.) + +MARGARET + +I feel, the gentleman allows for me, +Demeans himself, and shames me by it; +A traveller is so used to be +Kindly content with any diet. +I know too well that my poor gossip can +Ne'er entertain such an experienced man. + +FAUST + +A look from thee, a word, more entertains +Than all the lore of wisest brains. + +(_He kisses her hand_.) + +MARGARET + +Don't incommode yourself! How could you ever kiss it! +It is so ugly, rough to see! +What work I do,--how hard and steady is it! +Mother is much too close with me. + +[_They pass_. + +MARTHA + +And you, Sir, travel always, do you not? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Alas, that trade and duty us so harry! +With what a pang one leaves so many a spot, +And dares not even now and then to tarry! + +MARTHA + +In young, wild years it suits your ways, +This round and round the world in freedom sweeping; +But then come on the evil days, +And so, as bachelor, into his grave a-creeping, +None ever found a thing to praise. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I dread to see how such a fate advances. + +MARTHA + +Then, worthy Sir, improve betimes your chances! + +[_They pass_. + +MARGARET + +Yes, out of sight is out of mind! +Your courtesy an easy grace is; +But you have friends in other places, +And sensibler than I, you'll find. + +FAUST + +Trust me, dear heart! what men call sensible +Is oft mere vanity and narrowness. + +MARGARET + + How so? + +FAUST + +Ah, that simplicity and innocence ne'er know +Themselves, their holy value, and their spell! +That meekness, lowliness, the highest graces +Which Nature portions out so lovingly-- + +MARGARET + +So you but think a moment's space on me, +All times I'll have to think on you, all places! + +FAUST + +No doubt you're much alone? + +MARGARET + +Yes, for our household small has grown, +Yet must be cared for, you will own. +We have no maid: I do the knitting, sewing, sweeping, +The cooking, early work and late, in fact; +And mother, in her notions of housekeeping, +Is so exact! +Not that she needs so much to keep expenses down: +We, more than others, might take comfort, rather: +A nice estate was left us by my father, +A house, a little garden near the town. +But now my days have less of noise and hurry; +My brother is a soldier, +My little sister's dead. +True, with the child a troubled life I led, +Yet I would take again, and willing, all the worry, +So very dear was she. + +FAUST + +An angel, if like thee! + +MARGARET + +I brought it up, and it was fond of me. +Father had died before it saw the light, +And mother's case seemed hopeless quite, +So weak and miserable she lay; +And she recovered, then, so slowly, day by day. +She could not think, herself, of giving +The poor wee thing its natural living; +And so I nursed it all alone +With milk and water: 'twas my own. +Lulled in my lap with many a song, +It smiled, and tumbled, and grew strong. + +FAUST + +The purest bliss was surely then thy dower. + +MARGARET + +But surely, also, many a weary hour. +I kept the baby's cradle near +My bed at night: if 't even stirred, I'd guess it, +And waking, hear. +And I must nurse it, warm beside me press it, +And oft, to quiet it, my bed forsake, +And dandling back and forth the restless creature take, +Then at the wash-tub stand, at morning's break; +And then the marketing and kitchen-tending, +Day after day, the same thing, never-ending. +One's spirits, Sir, are thus not always good, +But then one learns to relish rest and food. + +[_They pass_. + +MARTHA + +Yes, the poor women are bad off, 'tis true: +A stubborn bachelor there's no converting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +It but depends upon the like of you, +And I should turn to better ways than flirting. + +MARTHA + +Speak plainly, Sir, have you no one detected? +Has not your heart been anywhere subjected? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The proverb says: One's own warm hearth +And a good wife, are gold and jewels worth. + +MARTHA + +I mean, have you not felt desire, though ne'er so slightly? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I've everywhere, in fact, been entertained politely. + +MARTHA + +I meant to say, were you not touched in earnest, ever? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +One should allow one's self to jest with ladies never. + + +MARTHA +Ah, you don't understand! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I'm sorry I'm so blind: +But I am sure--that you are very kind. + +[_They pass_. + +FAUST + +And me, thou angel! didst thou recognize, +As through the garden-gate I came? + +MARGARET + +Did you not see it? I cast down my eyes. + +FAUST + +And thou forgiv'st my freedom, and the blame +To my impertinence befitting, +As the Cathedral thou wert quitting? + +MARGARET + +I was confused, the like ne'er happened me; +No one could ever speak to my discredit. +Ah, thought I, in my conduct has he read it-- +Something immodest or unseemly free? +He seemed to have the sudden feeling +That with this wench 'twere very easy dealing. +I will confess, I knew not what appeal +On your behalf, here, in my bosom grew; +But I was angry with myself, to feel +That I could not be angrier with you. + + +FAUST + +Sweet darling! + +MARGARET + +Wait a while! + +(_She plucks a star-flower, and pulls off the leaves, one after +the other_.) + +FAUST + +Shall that a nosegay be? + +MARGARET + +No, it is just in play. + +FAUST + +How? + +MARGARET + +Go! you'll laugh at me. +(_She pulls off the leaves and murmurs_.) + +FAUST + +What murmurest thou? + +MARGARET (_half aloud_) + +He loves me--loves me not. + +FAUST + +Thou sweet, angelic soul! + +MARGARET (_continues_) + +Loves me--not--loves me--not-- +(_plucking the last leaf, she cries with frank delight_:) + +He loves me! + +FAUST + +Yes, child! and let this blossom-word +For thee be speech divine! He loves thee! +Ah, know'st thou what it means? He loves thee! + +(_He grasps both her hands_.) + +MARGARET + +I'm all a-tremble! + +FAUST + +O tremble not! but let this look, +Let this warm clasp of hands declare thee +What is unspeakable! +To yield one wholly, and to feel a rapture +In yielding, that must be eternal! +Eternal!--for the end would be despair. +No, no,--no ending! no ending! + +MARTHA (_coming forward_) + +The night is falling. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Ay! we must away. + +MARTHA + +I'd ask you, longer here to tarry, +But evil tongues in this town have full play. +It's as if nobody had nothing to fetch and carry, +Nor other labor, +But spying all the doings of one's neighbor: +And one becomes the talk, do whatsoe'er one may. +Where is our couple now? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Flown up the alley yonder, +The wilful summer-birds! + +MARTHA + + He seems of her still fonder. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And she of him. So runs the world away! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XIII + + +A GARDEN-ARBOR + +(MARGARET _comes in, conceals herself behind the door, puts her +finger to her lips, and peeps through the crack_.) + +MARGARET + +He comes! + +FAUST (_entering_) + + Ah, rogue! a tease thou art: +I have thee! +(_He kisses her_.) + +MARGARET + +(_clasping him, and returning the kiss_) + Dearest man! I love thee from my heart. + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _knocks_) + +FAUST (_stamping his foot_) + +Who's there? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A friend! + +FAUST + + A beast! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Tis time to separate. + +MARTHA (_coming_) + +Yes, Sir, 'tis late. + +FAUST + + May I not, then, upon you wait? + +MARGARET +My mother would--farewell! + +FAUST + + Ah, can I not remain? +Farewell! + +MARTHA + + Adieu! + +MARGARET + + And soon to meet again! + +[_Exeunt_ FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES. + +MARGARET + +Dear God! However is it, such +A man can think and know so much? +I stand ashamed and in amaze, +And answer "Yes" to all he says, +A poor, unknowing child! and he-- +I can't think what he finds in me! [_Exit_. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XIV + + +FOREST AND CAVERN + +FAUST (_solus_) + +Spirit sublime, thou gav'st me, gav'st me all +For which I prayed. Not unto me in vain +Hast thou thy countenance revealed in fire. +Thou gav'st me Nature as a kingdom grand, +With power to feel and to enjoy it. Thou +Not only cold, amazed acquaintance yield'st, +But grantest, that in her profoundest breast +I gaze, as in the bosom of a friend. +The ranks of living creatures thou dost lead +Before me, teaching me to know my brothers +In air and water and the silent wood. +And when the storm in forests roars and grinds, +The giant firs, in falling, neighbor boughs +And neighbor trunks with crushing weight bear down, +And falling, fill the hills with hollow thunders,-- +Then to the cave secure thou leadest me, +Then show'st me mine own self, and in my breast +The deep, mysterious miracles unfold. +And when the perfect moon before my gaze +Comes up with soothing light, around me float +From every precipice and thicket damp +The silvery phantoms of the ages past, +And temper the austere delight of thought. + +That nothing can be perfect unto Man +I now am conscious. With this ecstasy, +Which brings me near and nearer to the Gods, +Thou gav'st the comrade, whom I now no more +Can do without, though, cold and scornful, he +Demeans me to myself, and with a breath, +A word, transforms thy gifts to nothingness. +Within my breast he fans a lawless fire, +Unwearied, for that fair and lovely form: +Thus in desire I hasten to enjoyment, +And in enjoyment pine to feel desire. + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Have you not led this life quite long enough? +How can a further test delight you? +'Tis very well, that once one tries the stuff, +But something new must then requite you. + +FAUST + +Would there were other work for thee! +To plague my day auspicious thou returnest. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Well! I'll engage to let thee be: +Thou darest not tell me so in earnest. +The loss of thee were truly very slight,-- +comrade crazy, rude, repelling: + +[Illustration] + +One has one's hands full all the day and night; +If what one does, or leaves undone, is right, +From such a face as thine there is no telling. + +FAUST + +There is, again, thy proper tone!-- +That thou hast bored me, I must thankful be! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Poor Son of Earth, how couldst thou thus alone +Have led thy life, bereft of me? +I, for a time, at least, have worked thy cure; +Thy fancy's rickets plague thee not at all: +Had I not been, so hadst thou, sure, +Walked thyself off this earthly ball +Why here to caverns, rocky hollows slinking, +Sit'st thou, as 'twere an owl a-blinking? +Why suck'st, from sodden moss and dripping stone, +Toad-like, thy nourishment alone? +A fine way, this, thy time to fill! +The Doctor's in thy body still. + +FAUST + +What fresh and vital forces, canst thou guess, +Spring from my commerce with the wilderness? +But, if thou hadst the power of guessing, +Thou wouldst be devil enough to grudge my soul the blessing. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A blessing drawn from supernatural fountains! +In night and dew to lie upon the mountains; +All Heaven and Earth in rapture penetrating; +Thyself to Godhood haughtily inflating; +To grub with yearning force through Earth's dark marrow, +Compress the six days' work within thy bosom narrow,-- +To taste, I know not what, in haughty power, +Thine own ecstatic life on all things shower, +Thine earthly self behind thee cast, +And then the lofty instinct, thus-- + +(_With a gesture_:) + +at last,-- +daren't say how--to pluck the final flower! + +FAUST + +Shame on thee! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, thou findest that unpleasant! +Thou hast the moral right to cry me "shame!" at present. +One dares not that before chaste ears declare, +Which chaste hearts, notwithstanding, cannot spare; +And, once for all, I grudge thee not the pleasure +Of lying to thyself in moderate measure. +But such a course thou wilt not long endure; +Already art thou o'er-excited, +And, if it last, wilt soon be plighted +To madness and to horror, sure. +Enough of that! Thy love sits lonely yonder, +By all things saddened and oppressed; +Her thoughts and yearnings seek thee, tenderer, fonder,-- +mighty love is in her breast. +First came thy passion's flood and poured around her +As when from melted snow a streamlet overflows; +Thou hast therewith so filled and drowned her, +That now _thy_ stream all shallow shows. +Methinks, instead of in the forests lording, +The noble Sir should find it good, +The love of this young silly blood +At once to set about rewarding. +Her time is miserably long; +She haunts her window, watching clouds that stray +O'er the old city-wall, and far away. +"Were I a little bird!" so runs her song, +Day long, and half night long. +Now she is lively, mostly sad, +Now, wept beyond her tears; +Then again quiet she appears,--Always +love-mad. + +FAUST + +Serpent! Serpent! + +MEPHISTOPHELES _(aside)_ + +Ha! do I trap thee! + +FAUST + +Get thee away with thine offences, +Reprobate! Name not that fairest thing, +Nor the desire for her sweet body bring +Again before my half-distracted senses! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What wouldst thou, then? She thinks that thou art flown; +And half and half thou art, I own. + +FAUST + +Yet am I near, and love keeps watch and ward; +Though I were ne'er so far, it cannot falter: +I envy even the Body of the Lord +The touching of her lips, before the altar. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +'Tis very well! _My_ envy oft reposes +On your twin-pair, that feed among the roses. + +FAUST + +Away, thou pimp! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +You rail, and it is fun to me. +The God, who fashioned youth and maid, +Perceived the noblest purpose of His trade, +And also made their opportunity. +Go on! It is a woe profound! +'Tis for your sweetheart's room you're bound, +And not for death, indeed. + +FAUST + +What are, within her arms, the heavenly blisses? +Though I be glowing with her kisses, +Do I not always share her need? +I am the fugitive, all houseless roaming, +The monster without air or rest, +That like a cataract, down rocks and gorges foaming, +Leaps, maddened, into the abyss's breast! +And side-wards she, with young unwakened senses, +Within her cabin on the Alpine field +Her simple, homely life commences, +Her little world therein concealed. +And I, God's hate flung o'er me, +Had not enough, to thrust +The stubborn rocks before me +And strike them into dust! +She and her peace I yet must undermine: +Thou, Hell, hast claimed this sacrifice as thine! +Help, Devil! through the coming pangs to push me; +What must be, let it quickly be! +Let fall on me her fate, and also crush me,-- +One ruin whelm both her and me! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Again it seethes, again it glows! +Thou fool, go in and comfort her! +When such a head as thine no outlet knows, +It thinks the end must soon occur. +Hail him, who keeps a steadfast mind! +Thou, else, dost well the devil-nature wear: +Naught so insipid in the world I find +As is a devil in despair. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XV + + +MARGARET'S ROOM + +MARGARET + +(_at the spinning-wheel, alone_) + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + Save I have him near. + The grave is here; + The world is gall + And bitterness all. + + My poor weak head + Is racked and crazed; + My thought is lost, + My senses mazed. + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + To see him, him only, + At the pane I sit; + To meet him, him only, + The house I quit. + + His lofty gait, + His noble size, + The smile of his mouth, + The power of his eyes, + + And the magic flow + Of his talk, the bliss + In the clasp of his hand, + And, ah! his kiss! + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + My bosom yearns + For him alone; + Ah, dared I clasp him, + And hold, and own! + + And kiss his mouth, + To heart's desire, + And on his kisses + At last expire! + +[Illustration] + + + + +XVI + + +MARTHA'S GARDEN + +MARGARET FAUST + +MARGARET + +Promise me, Henry!-- + +FAUST + +What I can! + +MARGARET + +How is't with thy religion, pray? +Thou art a dear, good-hearted man, +And yet, I think, dost not incline that way. + +FAUST + +Leave that, my child! Thou know'st my love is tender; +For love, my blood and life would I surrender, +And as for Faith and Church, I grant to each his own. + +MARGARET + +That's not enough: we must believe thereon. + +FAUST + +Must we? + +MARGARET + +Would that I had some influence! +Then, too, thou honorest not the Holy Sacraments. + +FAUST + +I honor them. + +MARGARET + +Desiring no possession +'Tis long since thou hast been to mass or to confession. +Believest thou in God? + +FAUST + +My darling, who shall dare +"I believe in God!" to say? +Ask priest or sage the answer to declare, +And it will seem a mocking play, +A sarcasm on the asker. + +MARGARET + +Then thou believest not! + +FAUST + +Hear me not falsely, sweetest countenance! +Who dare express Him? +And who profess Him, +Saying: I believe in Him! +Who, feeling, seeing, +Deny His being, +Saying: I believe Him not! +The All-enfolding, +The All-upholding, +Folds and upholds he not +Thee, me, Himself? +Arches not there the sky above us? +Lies not beneath us, firm, the earth? +And rise not, on us shining, +Friendly, the everlasting stars? +Look I not, eye to eye, on thee, +And feel'st not, thronging +To head and heart, the force, +Still weaving its eternal secret, +Invisible, visible, round thy life? +Vast as it is, fill with that force thy heart, +And when thou in the feeling wholly blessed art, +Call it, then, what thou wilt,-- +Call it Bliss! Heart! Love! God! +I have no name to give it! +Feeling is all in all: +The Name is sound and smoke, +Obscuring Heaven's clear glow. + +MARGARET + +All that is fine and good, to hear it so: +Much the same way the preacher spoke, +Only with slightly different phrases. + +FAUST + +The same thing, in all places, +All hearts that beat beneath the heavenly day-- +Each in its language--say; +Then why not I, in mine, as well? + +MARGARET + +To hear it thus, it may seem passable; +And yet, some hitch in't there must be +For thou hast no Christianity. + +FAUST + +Dear love! + +MARGARET + + I've long been grieved to see +That thou art in such company. + +FAUST + +How so? + +MARGARET + + The man who with thee goes, thy mate, +Within my deepest, inmost soul I hate. +In all my life there's nothing +Has given my heart so keen a pang of loathing, +As his repulsive face has done. + +FAUST + +Nay, fear him not, my sweetest one! + +MARGARET + +I feel his presence like something ill. +I've else, for all, a kindly will, +But, much as my heart to see thee yearneth, +The secret horror of him returneth; +And I think the man a knave, as I live! +If I do him wrong, may God forgive! + +FAUST + +There must be such queer birds, however. + +MARGARET + +Live with the like of him, may I never! +When once inside the door comes he, +He looks around so sneeringly, +And half in wrath: +One sees that in nothing no interest he hath: +'Tis written on his very forehead +That love, to him, is a thing abhorréd. +I am so happy on thine arm, +So free, so yielding, and so warm, +And in his presence stifled seems my heart. + +FAUST + +Foreboding angel that thou art! + +MARGARET + +It overcomes me in such degree, +That wheresoe'er he meets us, even, +I feel as though I'd lost my love for thee. +When he is by, I could not pray to Heaven. +That burns within me like a flame, +And surely, Henry, 'tis with thee the same. + +FAUST + +There, now, is thine antipathy! + +MARGARET + +But I must go. + +FAUST + + Ah, shall there never be +A quiet hour, to see us fondly plighted, +With breast to breast, and soul to soul united? + +MARGARET + +Ah, if I only slept alone! +I'd draw the bolts to-night, for thy desire; +But mother's sleep so light has grown, +And if we were discovered by her, +'Twould be my death upon the spot! + +FAUST + +Thou angel, fear it not! +Here is a phial: in her drink +But three drops of it measure, +And deepest sleep will on her senses sink. + +MARGARET + +What would I not, to give thee pleasure? +It will not harm her, when one tries it? + +FAUST + +If 'twould, my love, would I advise it? + +MARGARET + +Ah, dearest man, if but thy face I see, +I know not what compels me to thy will: +So much have I already done for thee, +That scarcely more is left me to fulfil. + +(_Enter_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) [_Exit_. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The monkey! Is she gone? + +FAUST + + Hast played the spy again? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I've heard, most fully, how she drew thee. +The Doctor has been catechised, 'tis plain; +Great good, I hope, the thing will do thee. +The girls have much desire to ascertain +If one is prim and good, as ancient rules compel: +If there he's led, they think, he'll follow them as well. + +FAUST + +Thou, monster, wilt nor see nor own +How this pure soul, of faith so lowly, +So loving and ineffable,-- +The faith alone +That her salvation is,--with scruples holy +Pines, lest she hold as lost the man she loves so well! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Thou, full of sensual, super-sensual desire, +A girl by the nose is leading thee. + +FAUST + +Abortion, thou, of filth and fire! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And then, how masterly she reads physiognomy! +When I am present she's impressed, she knows not how; +She in my mask a hidden sense would read: +She feels that surely I'm a genius now,-- +Perhaps the very Devil, indeed! +Well, well,--to-night--? + +FAUST + + What's that to thee? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yet my delight 'twill also be! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XVII + + +AT THE FOUNTAIN + +MARGARET _and_ LISBETH _With pitchers_. + +LISBETH + +Hast nothing heard of Barbara? + +MARGARET + +No, not a word. I go so little out. + +LISBETH + +It's true, Sibylla said, to-day. +She's played the fool at last, there's not a doubt. +Such taking-on of airs! + +MARGARET + + How so? + +LISBETH + + It stinks! +She's feeding two, whene'er she eats and drinks. + +MARGARET + +Ah! + +LISBETH + + And so, at last, it serves her rightly. +She clung to the fellow so long and tightly! +That was a promenading! +At village and dance parading! +As the first they must everywhere shine, +And he treated her always to pies and wine, +And she made a to-do with her face so fine; +So mean and shameless was her behavior, +She took all the presents the fellow gave her. +'Twas kissing and coddling, on and on! +So now, at the end, the flower is gone. + +MARGARET + +The poor, poor thing! + +LISBETH + + Dost pity her, at that? +When one of us at spinning sat, +And mother, nights, ne'er let us out the door +She sported with her paramour. +On the door-bench, in the passage dark, +The length of the time they'd never mark. +So now her head no more she'll lift, +But do church-penance in her sinner's shift! + +MARGARET + +He'll surely take her for his wife. + +LISBETH + +He'd be a fool! A brisk young blade +Has room, elsewhere, to ply his trade. +Besides, he's gone. + +MARGARET + + That is not fair! + +LISBETH + +If him she gets, why let her beware! +The boys shall dash her wreath on the floor, +And we'll scatter chaff before her door! + [_Exit_. + +MARGARET (_returning home_) + +How scornfully I once reviled, +When some poor maiden was beguiled! +More speech than any tongue suffices +I craved, to censure others' vices. +Black as it seemed, I blackened still, +And blacker yet was in my will; +And blessed myself, and boasted high,-- +And now--a living sin am I! +Yet--all that drove my heart thereto, +God! was so good, so dear, so true! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XVIII + + +DONJON + +(_In a niche of the wall a shrine, with an image of the Mater +Dolorosa. Pots of flowers before it_.) + +MARGARET + +(_putting fresh flowers in the pots_) + + Incline, O Maiden, + Thou sorrow-laden, + Thy gracious countenance upon my pain! + + The sword Thy heart in, + With anguish smarting, + Thou lookest up to where Thy Son is slain! + + Thou seest the Father; + Thy sad sighs gather, + And bear aloft Thy sorrow and His pain! + + Ah, past guessing, + Beyond expressing, + The pangs that wring my flesh and bone! + Why this anxious heart so burneth, + Why it trembleth, why it yearneth, + Knowest Thou, and Thou alone! + + Where'er I go, what sorrow, + What woe, what woe and sorrow + Within my bosom aches! + Alone, and ah! unsleeping, + I'm weeping, weeping, weeping, + The heart within me breaks. + + The pots before my window, + Alas! my tears did wet, + As in the early morning + For thee these flowers I set. + + Within my lonely chamber + The morning sun shone red: + I sat, in utter sorrow, + Already on my bed. + + Help! rescue me from death and stain! + O Maiden! + Thou sorrow-laden, + Incline Thy countenance upon my pain! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XIX + + +NIGHT + +STREET BEFORE MARGARET'S DOOR + +VALENTINE (_a soldier_, MARGARET'S _brother_) + +When I have sat at some carouse. +Where each to each his brag allows, +And many a comrade praised to me +His pink of girls right lustily, +With brimming glass that spilled the toast, +And elbows planted as in boast: +I sat in unconcerned repose, +And heard the swagger as it rose. +And stroking then my beard, I'd say, +Smiling, the bumper in my hand: +"Each well enough in her own way. +But is there one in all the land +Like sister Margaret, good as gold,-- +One that to her can a candle hold?" +Cling! clang! "Here's to her!" went around +The board: "He speaks the truth!" cried some; +"In her the flower o' the sex is found!" +And all the swaggerers were dumb. +And now!--I could tear my hair with vexation. +And dash out my brains in desperation! +With turned-up nose each scamp may face me, +With sneers and stinging taunts disgrace me, +And, like a bankrupt debtor sitting, +A chance-dropped word may set me sweating! +Yet, though I thresh them all together, +I cannot call them liars, either. + +But what comes sneaking, there, to view? +If I mistake not, there are two. +If _he's_ one, let me at him drive! +He shall not leave the spot alive. + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +How from the window of the sacristy +Upward th'eternal lamp sends forth a glimmer, +That, lessening side-wards, fainter grows and dimmer, +Till darkness closes from the sky! +The shadows thus within my bosom gather. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I'm like a sentimental tom-cat, rather, +That round the tall fire-ladders sweeps, +And stealthy, then, along the coping creeps: +Quite virtuous, withal, I come, +A little thievish and a little frolicsome. +I feel in every limb the presage +Forerunning the grand Walpurgis-Night: +Day after to-morrow brings its message, +And one keeps watch then with delight. + +FAUST + +Meanwhile, may not the treasure risen be, +Which there, behind, I glimmering see? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Shalt soon experience the pleasure, +To lift the kettle with its treasure. +I lately gave therein a squint-- +Saw splendid lion-dollars in 't. + +FAUST + +Not even a jewel, not a ring, +To deck therewith my darling girl? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I saw, among the rest, a thing +That seemed to be a chain of pearl. + +FAUST + +That's well, indeed! For painful is it +To bring no gift when her I visit. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Thou shouldst not find it so annoying, +Without return to be enjoying. +Now, while the sky leads forth its starry throng, +Thou'lt hear a masterpiece, no work completer: +I'll sing her, first, a moral song, +The surer, afterwards, to cheat her. + +(_Sings to the cither_.) + + What dost thou here + In daybreak clear, + Kathrina dear, + Before thy lover's door? + Beware! the blade + Lets in a maid. + That out a maid + Departeth nevermore! + + The coaxing shun + Of such an one! + When once 'tis done + Good-night to thee, poor thing! + Love's time is brief: + Unto no thief + Be warm and lief, + But with the wedding-ring! + +VALENTINE (_comes forward_) + +Whom wilt thou lure? God's-element! +Rat-catching piper, thou!--perdition! +To the Devil, first, the instrument! +To the Devil, then, the curst musician! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The cither's smashed! For nothing more 'tis fitting. + +VALENTINE + +There's yet a skull I must be splitting! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Sir Doctor, don't retreat, I pray! +Stand by: I'll lead, if you'll but tarry: +Out with your spit, without delay! +You've but to lunge, and I will parry. + +VALENTINE + +Then parry that! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Why not? 'tis light. +VALENTINE + +That, too! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Of course. + +VALENTINE + +I think the Devil must fight! +How is it, then? my hand's already lame: + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Thrust home! + +VALENTINE (_jails_) + +O God! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Now is the lubber tame! +But come, away! 'Tis time for us to fly; +For there arises now a murderous cry. +With the police 'twere easy to compound it, +But here the penal court will sift and sound it. + +[_Exit with_ FAUST. + +MARTHA (_at the window_) + +Come out! Come out! + +MARGARET (_at the window_) + +Quick, bring a light! + +MARTHA (_as above_) + +They swear and storm, they yell and fight! + +PEOPLE + +Here lies one dead already--see! + +MARTHA (_coming from the house_) + +The murderers, whither have they run? + +MARGARET (_coming out_) + +Who lies here? + +PEOPLE + +'Tis thy mother's son! + +MARGARET + +Almighty God! what misery! + +VALENTINE + +I'm dying! That is quickly said, +And quicker yet 'tis done. +Why howl, you women there? Instead, +Come here and listen, every one! + +(_All gather around him_) + +My Margaret, see! still young thou art, +But not the least bit shrewd or smart, +Thy business thus to slight: +So this advice I bid thee heed-- +Now that thou art a whore indeed, +Why, be one then, outright! + +MARGARET + +My brother! God! such words to me? + +VALENTINE + +In this game let our Lord God be! +What's done's already done, alas! +What follows it, must come to pass. +With one begin'st thou secretly, +Then soon will others come to thee, +And when a dozen thee have known, +Thou'rt also free to all the town. +When Shame is born and first appears, +She is in secret brought to light, +And then they draw the veil of night +Over her head and ears; +Her life, in fact, they're loath to spare her. +But let her growth and strength display, +She walks abroad unveiled by day, +Yet is not grown a whit the fairer. +The uglier she is to sight, +The more she seeks the day's broad light. +The time I verily can discern +When all the honest folk will turn +From thee, thou jade! and seek protection +As from a corpse that breeds infection. +Thy guilty heart shall then dismay thee. +When they but look thee in the face:-- +Shalt not in a golden chain array thee, +Nor at the altar take thy place! +Shalt not, in lace and ribbons flowing, +Make merry when the dance is going! +But in some corner, woe betide thee! +Among the beggars and cripples hide thee; +And so, though even God forgive, +On earth a damned existence live! + +MARTHA + +Commend your soul to God for pardon, +That you your heart with slander harden! + +VALENTINE + +Thou pimp most infamous, be still! +Could I thy withered body kill, +'Twould bring, for all my sinful pleasure, +Forgiveness in the richest measure. + +MARGARET + +My brother! This is Hell's own pain! + +VALENTINE + +I tell thee, from thy tears refrain! +When thou from honor didst depart +It stabbed me to the very heart. +Now through the slumber of the grave +I go to God as a soldier brave. + +(_Dies_.) + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XX + + +CATHEDRAL + +SERVICE, ORGAN _and_ ANTHEM. + +(MARGARET _among much people: the_ EVIL SPIRIT _behind_ +MARGARET.) + +EVIL SPIRIT + +HOW otherwise was it, Margaret, +When thou, still innocent, +Here to the altar cam'st, +And from the worn and fingered book +Thy prayers didst prattle, +Half sport of childhood, +Half God within thee! +Margaret! +Where tends thy thought? +Within thy bosom +What hidden crime? +Pray'st thou for mercy on thy mother's soul, +That fell asleep to long, long torment, and through thee? +Upon thy threshold whose the blood? +And stirreth not and quickens +Something beneath thy heart, +Thy life disquieting +With most foreboding presence? + +MARGARET + +Woe! woe! +Would I were free from the thoughts +That cross me, drawing hither and thither +Despite me! + +CHORUS + + _Diesira, dies illa, + Solvet soeclum in favilla_! + _(Sound of the organ_.) + +EVIL SPIRIT + +Wrath takes thee! +The trumpet peals! +The graves tremble! +And thy heart +From ashy rest +To fiery torments +Now again requickened, +Throbs to life! + +MARGARET + +Would I were forth! +I feel as if the organ here +My breath takes from me, +My very heart +Dissolved by the anthem! + + +CHORUS + + _Judex ergo cum sedebit, + Quidquid latet, ad parebit, + Nil inultum remanebit_. +MARGARET + +I cannot breathe! +The massy pillars +Imprison me! +The vaulted arches +Crush me!--Air! + +EVIL SPIRIT + +Hide thyself! Sin and shame +Stay never hidden. +Air? Light? +Woe to thee! + +CHORUS + + _Quid sum miser tunc dicturus, + Quem patronem rogaturus, + Cum vix Justus sit securus_? + +EVIL SPIRIT + +They turn their faces, +The glorified, from thee: +The pure, their hands to offer, +Shuddering, refuse thee! +Woe! + +CHORUS + +_Quid sum miser tune dicturus_? + +MARGARET + +Neighbor! your cordial! (_She falls in a swoon_.) + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXI + + +WALPURGIS-NIGHT + +THE HARTZ MOUNTAINS. + +_District of Schierke and Elend_. + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +DOST thou not wish a broomstick-steed's assistance? +The sturdiest he-goat I would gladly see: +The way we take, our goal is yet some distance. + +FAUST + +So long as in my legs I feel the fresh existence. +This knotted staff suffices me. +What need to shorten so the way? +Along this labyrinth of vales to wander, +Then climb the rocky ramparts yonder, +Wherefrom the fountain flings eternal spray, +Is such delight, my steps would fain delay. +The spring-time stirs within the fragrant birches, +And even the fir-tree feels it now: +Should then our limbs escape its gentle searches? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I notice no such thing, I vow! +'Tis winter still within my body: +Upon my path I wish for frost and snow. +How sadly rises, incomplete and ruddy, +The moon's lone disk, with its belated glow, +And lights so dimly, that, as one advances, +At every step one strikes a rock or tree! +Let us, then, use a Jack-o'-lantern's glances: +I see one yonder, burning merrily. +Ho, there! my friend! I'll levy thine attendance: +Why waste so vainly thy resplendence? +Be kind enough to light us up the steep! + +WILL-O'-THE-WISP + +My reverence, I hope, will me enable +To curb my temperament unstable; +For zigzag courses we are wont to keep. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Indeed? he'd like mankind to imitate! +Now, in the Devil's name, go straight, +Or I'll blow out his being's flickering spark! + +WILL-O'-THE-WISP + +You are the master of the house, I mark, +And I shall try to serve you nicely. +But then, reflect: the mountain's magic-mad to-day, +And if a will-o'-the-wisp must guide you on the way, +You mustn't take things too precisely. + +FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, WILL-O'-THE-WISP + +(_in alternating song_) + + We, it seems, have entered newly + In the sphere of dreams enchanted. + Do thy bidding, guide us truly, + That our feet be forwards planted + In the vast, the desert spaces! + See them swiftly changing places, + Trees on trees beside us trooping, + And the crags above us stooping, + And the rocky snouts, outgrowing,-- + Hear them snoring, hear them blowing! + O'er the stones, the grasses, flowing + Stream and streamlet seek the hollow. + Hear I noises? songs that follow? + Hear I tender love-petitions? + Voices of those heavenly visions? + Sounds of hope, of love undying! + And the echoes, like traditions + Of old days, come faint and hollow. + + Hoo-hoo! Shoo-hoo! Nearer hover + Jay and screech-owl, and the plover,-- + Are they all awake and crying? + Is't the salamander pushes, + Bloated-bellied, through the bushes? + And the roots, like serpents twisted, + Through the sand and boulders toiling, + Fright us, weirdest links uncoiling + To entrap us, unresisted: + Living knots and gnarls uncanny + Feel with polypus-antennae + For the wanderer. Mice are flying, + Thousand-colored, herd-wise hieing + Through the moss and through the heather! + + And the fire-flies wink and darkle, + Crowded swarms that soar and sparkle, + And in wildering escort gather! + + Tell me, if we still are standing, + Or if further we're ascending? + All is turning, whirling, blending, + Trees and rocks with grinning faces, + Wandering lights that spin in mazes, + Still increasing and expanding! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Grasp my skirt with heart undaunted! +Here a middle-peak is planted, +Whence one seeth, with amaze, +Mammon in the mountain blaze. + +FAUST + +How strangely glimmers through the hollows +A dreary light, like that of dawn! +Its exhalation tracks and follows +The deepest gorges, faint and wan. +Here steam, there rolling vapor sweepeth; +Here burns the glow through film and haze: +Now like a tender thread it creepeth, +Now like a fountain leaps and plays. +Here winds away, and in a hundred +Divided veins the valley braids: +There, in a corner pressed and sundered, +Itself detaches, spreads and fades. +Here gush the sparkles incandescent +Like scattered showers of golden sand;-- +But, see! in all their height, at present, +The rocky ramparts blazing stand. + +[Illustration: _Under the old ribs of the rock retreating_,] + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Has not Sir Mammon grandly lighted +His palace for this festal night? +'Tis lucky thou hast seen the sight; +The boisterous guests approach that were invited. + +FAUST + +How raves the tempest through the air! +With what fierce blows upon my neck 'tis beating! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Under the old ribs of the rock retreating, +Hold fast, lest thou be hurled down the abysses there! +The night with the mist is black; +Hark! how the forests grind and crack! +Frightened, the owlets are scattered: +Hearken! the pillars are shattered. +The evergreen palaces shaking! +Boughs are groaning and breaking, +The tree-trunks terribly thunder, +The roots are twisting asunder! +In frightfully intricate crashing +Each on the other is dashing, +And over the wreck-strewn gorges +The tempest whistles and surges! +Hear'st thou voices higher ringing? +Far away, or nearer singing? +Yes, the mountain's side along, +Sweeps an infuriate glamouring song! + +WITCHES (_in chorus_) + + The witches ride to the Brocken's top, + The stubble is yellow, and green the crop. + There gathers the crowd for carnival: + Sir Urian sits over all. + + And so they go over stone and stock; + The witch she-----s, and-----s the buck. + +A VOICE + + Alone, old Baubo's coming now; + She rides upon a farrow-sow. + +CHORUS + + Then honor to whom the honor is due! + Dame Baubo first, to lead the crew! + A tough old sow and the mother thereon, + Then follow the witches, every one. + +A VOICE + +Which way com'st thou hither? + +VOICE + +O'er the Ilsen-stone. +I peeped at the owl in her nest alone: +How she stared and glared! + +VOICE + +Betake thee to Hell! +Why so fast and so fell? + +VOICE + +She has scored and has flayed me: +See the wounds she has made me! + +WITCHES (_chorus_) + + The way is wide, the way is long: + See, what a wild and crazy throng! + The broom it scratches, the fork it thrusts, + The child is stifled, the mother bursts. +WIZARDS (_semichorus_) + + As doth the snail in shell, we crawl: + Before us go the women all. + When towards the Devil's House we tread, + Woman's a thousand steps ahead. + +OTHER SEMICHORUS + + We do not measure with such care: + Woman in thousand steps is theft. + But howsoe'er she hasten may, + Man in one leap has cleared the way. + +VOICE (_from above_) + +Come on, come on, from Rocky Lake! + +VOICE (_from below_) + +Aloft we'd fain ourselves betake. +We've washed, and are bright as ever you will, +Yet we're eternally sterile still. + +BOTH CHORUSES + + The wind is hushed, the star shoots by. + The dreary moon forsakes the sky; + The magic notes, like spark on spark, + Drizzle, whistling through the dark. + +VOICE (_from below_) + +Halt, there! Ho, there! + +VOICE (_from above_) + +Who calls from the rocky cleft below there? + +VOICE (_below_) + +Take me, too! take me, too! +I'm climbing now three hundred years, +And yet the summit cannot see: +Among my equals I would be. + +BOTH CHORUSES + + Bears the broom and bears the stock, + Bears the fork and bears the buck: + Who cannot raise himself to-night + Is evermore a ruined wight. + +HALF-WITCH (_below_) + +So long I stumble, ill bestead, +And the others are now so far ahead! +At home I've neither rest nor cheer, +And yet I cannot gain them here. + +CHORUS OF WITCHES + + To cheer the witch will salve avail; + A rag will answer for a sail; + Each trough a goodly ship supplies; + He ne'er will fly, who now not flies. + +BOTH CHORUSES + + When round the summit whirls our flight, + Then lower, and on the ground alight; + And far and wide the heather press + With witchhood's swarms of wantonness! + +(_They settle down_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +They crowd and push, they roar and clatter! +They whirl and whistle, pull and chatter! +They shine, and spirt, and stink, and burn! +The true witch-element we learn. +Keep close! or we are parted, in our turn, +Where art thou? + +FAUST (_in the distance_) + +Here! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What! whirled so far astray? +Then house-right I must use, and clear the way. +Make room! Squire Voland comes! Room, gentle rabble, +room! + +Here, Doctor, hold to me: in one jump we'll resume +An easier space, and from the crowd be free: +It's too much, even for the like of me. +Yonder, with special light, there's something shining clearer +Within those bushes; I've a mind to see. +Come on! we'll slip a little nearer. + +FAUST + +Spirit of Contradiction! On! I'll follow straight. +'Tis planned most wisely, if I judge aright: +We climb the Brocken's top in the Walpurgis-Night, +That arbitrarily, here, ourselves we isolate. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But see, what motley flames among the heather! +There is a lively club together: +In smaller circles one is not alone. + +FAUST + +Better the summit, I must own: +There fire and whirling smoke I see. +They seek the Evil One in wild confusion: +Many enigmas there might find solution. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But there enigmas also knotted be. +Leave to the multitude their riot! +Here will we house ourselves in quiet. +It is an old, transmitted trade, +That in the greater world the little worlds are made. +I see stark-nude young witches congregate, +And old ones, veiled and hidden shrewdly: +On my account be kind, nor treat them rudely! +The trouble's small, the fun is great. +I hear the noise of instruments attuning,-- +Vile din! yet one must learn to bear the crooning. +Come, come along! It _must_ be, I declare! +I'll go ahead and introduce thee there, +Thine obligation newly earning. +That is no little space: what say'st thou, friend? +Look yonder! thou canst scarcely see the end: +A hundred fires along the ranks are burning. +They dance, they chat, they cook, they drink, they court: +Now where, just tell me, is there better sport? + +FAUST + +Wilt thou, to introduce us to the revel, +Assume the part of wizard or of devil? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I'm mostly used, 'tis true, to go incognito, +But on a gala-day one may his orders show. +The Garter does not deck my suit, +But honored and at home is here the cloven foot. +Perceiv'st thou yonder snail? It cometh, slow and steady; +So delicately its feelers pry, +That it hath scented me already: +I cannot here disguise me, if I try. +But come! we'll go from this fire to a newer: +I am the go-between, and thou the wooer. + +(_To some, who are sitting around dying embers_:) + +Old gentlemen, why at the outskirts? Enter! +I'd praise you if I found you snugly in the centre, +With youth and revel round you like a zone: +You each, at home, are quite enough alone. + +GENERAL + +Say, who would put his trust in nations, +Howe'er for them one may have worked and planned? +For with the people, as with women, +Youth always has the upper hand. + +MINISTER + +They're now too far from what is just and sage. +I praise the old ones, not unduly: +When we were all-in-all, then, truly, +_Then_ was the real golden age. + +PARVENU + +We also were not stupid, either, +And what we should not, often did; +But now all things have from their bases slid, +Just as we meant to hold them fast together. + +AUTHOR + +Who, now, a work of moderate sense will read? +Such works are held as antiquate and mossy; +And as regards the younger folk, indeed, +They never yet have been so pert and saucy. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_who all at once appears very old_) + +I feel that men are ripe for Judgment-Day, +Now for the last time I've the witches'-hill ascended: +Since to the lees _my_ cask is drained away, +The world's, as well, must soon be ended. + +HUCKSTER-WITCH + +Ye gentlemen, don't pass me thus! +Let not the chance neglected be! +Behold my wares attentively: +The stock is rare and various. +And yet, there's nothing I've collected-- +No shop, on earth, like this you'll find!-- +Which has not, once, sore hurt inflicted +Upon the world, and on mankind. +No dagger's here, that set not blood to flowing; +No cup, that hath not once, within a healthy frame +Poured speedy death, in poison glowing: +No gems, that have not brought a maid to shame; +No sword, but severed ties for the unwary, +Or from behind struck down the adversary. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Gossip! the times thou badly comprehendest: +What's done has happed--what haps, is done! +'Twere better if for novelties thou sendest: +By such alone can we be won. + +FAUST + +Let me not lose myself in all this pother! +This is a fair, as never was another! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The whirlpool swirls to get above: +Thou'rt shoved thyself, imagining to shove. + +FAUST + +But who is that? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Note her especially, +Tis Lilith. + +FAUST + +Who? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Adam's first wife is she. +Beware the lure within her lovely tresses, +The splendid sole adornment of her hair! +When she succeeds therewith a youth to snare, +Not soon again she frees him from her jesses. + +FAUST + +Those two, the old one with the young one sitting, +They've danced already more than fitting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No rest to-night for young or old! +They start another dance: come now, let us take hold! + +FAUST (_dancing with the young witch_) + + A lovely dream once came to me; + I then beheld an apple-tree, + And there two fairest apples shone: + They lured me so, I climbed thereon. + +THE FAIR ONE + + Apples have been desired by you, + Since first in Paradise they grew; + And I am moved with joy, to know + That such within my garden grow. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_dancing with the old one_) + + A dissolute dream once came to me: + Therein I saw a cloven tree, + Which had a-----------------; + Yet,-----as 'twas, I fancied it. + +THE OLD ONE + + I offer here my best salute + Unto the knight with cloven foot! + Let him a-----------prepare, + If him------------------does not scare. + +PROKTOPHANTASMIST + +Accurséd folk! How dare you venture thus? +Had you not, long since, demonstration +That ghosts can't stand on ordinary foundation? +And now you even dance, like one of us! + +THE FAIR ONE (_dancing_) + +Why does he come, then, to our ball? + +FAUST (_dancing_) + +O, everywhere on him you fall! +When others dance, he weighs the matter: +If he can't every step bechatter, +Then 'tis the same as were the step not made; +But if you forwards go, his ire is most displayed. +If you would whirl in regular gyration +As he does in his dull old mill, +He'd show, at any rate, good-will,-- +Especially if you heard and heeded his hortation. + +PROKTOPHANTASMIST + +You still are here? Nay, 'tis a thing unheard! +Vanish, at once! We've said the enlightening word. +The pack of devils by no rules is daunted: +We are so wise, and yet is Tegel haunted. +To clear the folly out, how have I swept and stirred! +Twill ne'er be clean: why, 'tis a thing unheard! + +THE FAIR ONE + +Then cease to bore us at our ball! + +PROKTOPHANTASMIST + +I tell you, spirits, to your face, +I give to spirit-despotism no place; +My spirit cannot practise it at all. + +(_The dance continues_) + +Naught will succeed, I see, amid such revels; +Yet something from a tour I always save, +And hope, before my last step to the grave, +To overcome the poets and the devils. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +He now will seat him in the nearest puddle; +The solace this, whereof he's most assured: +And when upon his rump the leeches hang and fuddle, +He'll be of spirits and of Spirit cured. + +(_To_ FAUST, _who has left the dance_:) + +Wherefore forsakest thou the lovely maiden, +That in the dance so sweetly sang? + +FAUST + +Ah! in the midst of it there sprang +A red mouse from her mouth--sufficient reason. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That's nothing! One must not so squeamish be; +So the mouse was not gray, enough for thee. +Who'd think of that in love's selected season? + +FAUST + +Then saw I--. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What? + +FAUST + +Mephisto, seest thou there, +Alone and far, a girl most pale and fair? +She falters on, her way scarce knowing, +As if with fettered feet that stay her going. +I must confess, it seems to me +As if my kindly Margaret were she. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Let the thing be! All thence have evil drawn: +It is a magic shape, a lifeless eidolon. +Such to encounter is not good: +Their blank, set stare benumbs the human blood, +And one is almost turned to stone. +Medusa's tale to thee is known. + +FAUST + +Forsooth, the eyes they are of one whom, dying, +No hand with loving pressure closed; +That is the breast whereon I once was lying,-- +The body sweet, beside which I reposed! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Tis magic all, thou fool, seduced so easily! +Unto each man his love she seems to be. + +FAUST + +The woe, the rapture, so ensnare me, +That from her gaze I cannot tear me! +And, strange! around her fairest throat +A single scarlet band is gleaming, +No broader than a knife-blade seeming! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Quite right! The mark I also note. +Her head beneath her arm she'll sometimes carry; +Twas Perseus lopped it, her old adversary. +Thou crav'st the same illusion still! +Come, let us mount this little hill; +The Prater shows no livelier stir, +And, if they've not bewitched my sense, +I verily see a theatre. +What's going on? + +SERVIBILIS + 'Twill shortly recommence: +A new performance--'tis the last of seven. +To give that number is the custom here: +'Twas by a Dilettante written, +And Dilettanti in the parts appear. +That now I vanish, pardon, I entreat you! +As Dilettante I the curtain raise. + +MEPHISTOPHELES +When I upon the Blocksberg meet you, +I find it good: for that's your proper place. + + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXII + + +WALPURGIS-NIGHT'S DREAM + +OBERON AND TITANIA's GOLDEN WEDDING + +INTERMEZZO + +MANAGER + +Sons of Mieding, rest to-day! +Needless your machinery: +Misty vale and mountain gray, +That is all the scenery. + +HERALD + +That the wedding golden be. +Must fifty years be rounded: +But _the Golden_ give to me, +When the strife's compounded. + +OBERON + +Spirits, if you're here, be seen-- +Show yourselves, delighted! +Fairy king and fairy queen, +They are newly plighted. + +PUCK + +Cometh Puck, and, light of limb, +Whisks and whirls in measure: +Come a hundred after him, +To share with him the pleasure. + +ARIEL + +Ariel's song is heavenly-pure, +His tones are sweet and rare ones: +Though ugly faces he allure, +Yet he allures the fair ones. + +OBERON + +Spouses, who would fain agree, +Learn how we were mated! +If your pairs would loving be, +First be separated! + +TITANIA + +If her whims the wife control, +And the man berate her, +Take him to the Northern Pole, +And her to the Equator! + +ORCHESTRA. TUTTI. + +_Fortissimo_. + +Snout of fly, mosquito-bill, +And kin of all conditions, +Frog in grass, and cricket-trill,-- +These are the musicians! + +SOLO + +See the bagpipe on our track! +'Tis the soap-blown bubble: +Hear the _schnecke-schnicke-schnack_ +Through his nostrils double! + +SPIRIT, JUST GROWING INTO FORM + +Spider's foot and paunch of toad, +And little wings--we know 'em! +A little creature 'twill not be, +But yet, a little poem. + +A LITTLE COUPLE + +Little step and lofty leap +Through honey-dew and fragrance: +You'll never mount the airy steep +With all your tripping vagrance. + +INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER + +Is't but masquerading play? +See I with precision? +Oberon, the beauteous fay, +Meets, to-night, my vision! + +ORTHODOX + +Not a claw, no tail I see! +And yet, beyond a cavil, +Like "the Gods of Greece," must he +Also be a devil. + +NORTHERN ARTIST + +I only seize, with sketchy air, +Some outlines of the tourney; +Yet I betimes myself prepare +For my Italian journey. + +PURIST + +My bad luck brings me here, alas! +How roars the orgy louder! +And of the witches in the mass, +But only two wear powder. + +YOUNG WITCH + +Powder becomes, like petticoat, +A gray and wrinkled noddy; +So I sit naked on my goat, +And show a strapping body. + +MATRON + +We've too much tact and policy +To rate with gibes a scolder; +Yet, young and tender though you be, +I hope to see you moulder. + +LEADER OF THE BAND + +Fly-snout and mosquito-bill, +Don't swarm so round the Naked! +Frog in grass and cricket-trill, +Observe the time, and make it! + +WEATHERCOCK (_towards one side_) + +Society to one's desire! +Brides only, and the sweetest! +And bachelors of youth and fire. +And prospects the completest! + +WEATHERCOCK (_towards the other side_) + +And if the Earth don't open now +To swallow up each ranter, +Why, then will I myself, I vow, +Jump into hell instanter! + +XENIES + +Us as little insects see! +With sharpest nippers flitting, +That our Papa Satan we +May honor as is fitting. + +HENNINGS + +How, in crowds together massed, +They are jesting, shameless! +They will even say, at last, +That their hearts are blameless. + +MUSAGETES + +Among this witches' revelry +His way one gladly loses; +And, truly, it would easier be +Than to command the Muses. + +CI-DEVANT GENIUS OF THE AGE + +The proper folks one's talents laud: +Come on, and none shall pass us! +The Blocksberg has a summit broad, +Like Germany's Parnassus. + +INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER + +Say, who's the stiff and pompous man? +He walks with haughty paces: +He snuffles all he snuffle can: +"He scents the Jesuits' traces." + +CRANE + +Both clear and muddy streams, for me +Are good to fish and sport in: +And thus the pious man you see +With even devils consorting. + +WORLDLING + +Yes, for the pious, I suspect, +All instruments are fitting; +And on the Blocksberg they erect +Full many a place of meeting. + +DANCER + +A newer chorus now succeeds! +I hear the distant drumming. +"Don't be disturbed! 'tis, in the reeds, +The bittern's changeless booming." + +DANCING-MASTER + +How each his legs in nimble trip +Lifts up, and makes a clearance! +The crooked jump, the heavy skip, +Nor care for the appearance. + +GOOD FELLOW + +The rabble by such hate are held, +To maim and slay delights them: +As Orpheus' lyre the brutes compelled, +The bagpipe here unites them. + +DOGMATIST + +I'll not be led by any lure +Of doubts or critic-cavils: +The Devil must be something, sure,-- +Or how should there be devils? + +IDEALIST + +This once, the fancy wrought in me +Is really too despotic: +Forsooth, if I am all I see, +I must be idiotic! + +REALIST + +This racking fuss on every hand, +It gives me great vexation; +And, for the first time, here I stand +On insecure foundation. + +SUPERNATURALIST + +With much delight I see the play, +And grant to these their merits, +Since from the devils I also may +Infer the better spirits. + +SCEPTIC + +The flame they follow, on and on, +And think they're near the treasure: +But _Devil_ rhymes with _Doubt_ alone, +So I am here with pleasure. + +LEADER OF THE BAND + +Frog in green, and cricket-trill. +Such dilettants!--perdition! +Fly-snout and mosquito-bill,-- +Each one's a fine musician! + +THE ADROIT + +_Sans souci_, we call the clan +Of merry creatures so, then; +Go a-foot no more we can, +And on our heads we go, then. + +THE AWKWARD + +Once many a bit we sponged, but now, +God help us! that is done with: +Our shoes are all danced out, we trow, +We've but naked soles to run with. + +WILL-O'-THE WISPS + +From the marshes we appear, +Where we originated; +Yet in the ranks, at once, we're here +As glittering gallants rated. + +SHOOTING-STAR + +Darting hither from the sky, +In star and fire light shooting, +Cross-wise now in grass I lie: +Who'll help me to my footing? + +THE HEAVY FELLOWS + +Room! and round about us, room! +Trodden are the grasses: +Spirits also, spirits come, +And they are bulky masses. + +PUCK + +Enter not so stall-fed quite, +Like elephant-calves about one! +And the heaviest weight to-night +Be Puck, himself, the stout one! + +ARIEL + +If loving Nature at your back, +Or Mind, the wings uncloses, +Follow up my airy track +To the mount of roses! + +ORCHESTRA + +_pianissimo_ +Cloud and trailing mist o'erhead +Are now illuminated: +Air in leaves, and wind in reed, +And all is dissipated. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXIII + + +DREARY DAY + +A FIELD + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +In misery! In despair! Long wretchedly astray on the face of the earth, +and now imprisoned! That gracious, ill-starred creature shut in a +dungeon as a criminal, and given up to fearful torments! To this has it +come! to this!--Treacherous, contemptible spirit, and thou hast +concealed it from me!--Stand, then,--stand! Roll the devilish eyes +wrathfully in thy head! Stand and defy me with thine intolerable +presence! Imprisoned! In irretrievable misery! Delivered up to evil +spirits, and to condemning, unfeeling Man! And thou hast lulled me, +meanwhile, with the most insipid dissipations, hast concealed from me +her increasing wretchedness, and suffered her to go helplessly to ruin! +[Illustration: _Roll the devilish eyes wrathfully in thy head_] + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +She is not the first. + +FAUST + +Dog! Abominable monster! Transform him, thou Infinite Spirit! transform +the reptile again into his dog-shape? in which it pleased him often at +night to scamper on before me, to roll himself at the feet of the +unsuspecting wanderer, and hang upon his shoulders when he fell! +Transform him again into his favorite likeness, that he may crawl upon +his belly in the dust before me,--that I may trample him, the outlawed, +under foot! Not the first! O woe! woe which no human soul can grasp, +that more than one being should sink into the depths of this +misery,--that the first, in its writhing death-agony under the eyes of +the Eternal Forgiver, did not expiate the guilt of all others! The +misery of this single one pierces to the very marrow of my life; and +thou art calmly grinning at the fate of thousands! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Now we are already again at the end of our wits, where the understanding +of you men runs wild. Why didst thou enter into fellowship with us, if +thou canst not carry it out? Wilt fly, and art not secure against +dizziness? Did we thrust ourselves upon thee, or thou thyself upon us? + +FAUST + +Gnash not thus thy devouring teeth at me? It fills me with horrible +disgust. Mighty, glorious Spirit, who hast vouchsafed to me Thine +apparition, who knowest my heart and my soul, why fetter me to the +felon-comrade, who feeds on mischief and gluts himself with ruin? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Hast thou done? + +FAUST + +Rescue her, or woe to thee! The fearfullest curse be upon thee for +thousands of ages! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I cannot loosen the bonds of the Avenger, nor undo his bolts. Rescue +her? Who was it that plunged her into ruin? I, or thou? + +(FAUST _looks around wildly_.) + +Wilt thou grasp the thunder? Well that it has not been given to you, +miserable mortals! To crush to pieces the innocent respondent--that is +the tyrant-fashion of relieving one's self in embarrassments. + +FAUST + +Take me thither! She shall be free! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And the danger to which thou wilt expose thyself? Know that the guilt of +blood, from thy hand, still lies upon the town! Avenging spirits hover +over the spot where the victim fell, and lie in wait for the returning +murderer. + +FAUST + +That, too, from thee? Murder and death of a world upon thee, monster! +Take me thither, I say, and liberate her! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I will convey thee there; and hear, what I can do! Have I all the power +in Heaven and on Earth? I will becloud the jailer's senses: get +possession of the key, and lead her forth with human hand! I will keep +watch: the magic steeds are ready, I will carry you off. So much is in +my power. + +FAUST + +Up and away! + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXIV + + +NIGHT + +OPEN FIELD + +(FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES _speeding onward on black horses_.) + + +FAUST + +What weave they there round the raven-stone? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I know not what they are brewing and doing. + + +FAUST + +Soaring up, sweeping down, bowing and bending! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A witches'-guild. + + +FAUST + +They scatter, devote and doom! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +On! on! + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXV + + +DUNGEON + +FAUST + +(_with a bunch of keys and a lamp, before an iron door_) + +A shudder, long unfelt, comes o'er me; +Mankind's collected woe o'erwhelms me, here. +She dwells within the dark, damp walls before me, +And all her crime was a delusion dear! +What! I delay to free her? +I dread, once again to see her? +On! my shrinking but lingers Death more near. + +(_He grasps the lock: the sound of singing is heard inside_.) + + _My mother, the harlot, + Who put me to death; + My father, the varlet, + Who eaten me hath! + Little sister, so good, + Laid my bones in the wood, + In the damp moss and clay:_ + _Then was I a beautiful bird o' the wood; + Fly away! Fly away_! + +FAUST _(unlocking)_ + +She does not dream her lover listens near; +That he the rattling chain, the rustling straw, can hear. + +_(He enters_.) + +MARGARET (_hiding herself on the pallet_) +Woe! woe! They come. O death of bitterness! + +FAUST (_whispering_) +Hush! hush! The hour is come that frees thee. + +MARGARET (_throwing herself before him_) +Art thou a man, then pity my distress! + +FAUST +Thy cries will wake the guards, and they will seize thee! +(_He takes hold of the fetters to unlock them_.) + +MARGARET (_on her knees_) + +Who, headsman! unto thee such power +Over me could give? +Thou'rt come for me at midnight-hour: +Have mercy on me, let me live! +Is't not soon enough when morning chime has run? + +(_She rises_.) + +And I am yet so young, so young! +And now Death comes, and ruin! +I, too, was fair, and that was my undoing. +My love was near, but now he's far; +Torn lies the wreath, scattered the blossoms are. +Seize me not thus so violently! +Spare me! What have I done to thee? +Let me not vainly entreat thee! +I never chanced, in all my days, to meet thee! + + +FAUST + +Shall I outlive this misery? + + +MARGARET + +Now am I wholly in thy might. +But let me suckle, first, my baby! +I blissed it all this livelong night; +They took 't away, to vex me, maybe, +And now they say I killed the child outright. +And never shall I be glad again. +They sing songs about me! 'tis bad of the folk to do it! +There's an old story has the same refrain; +Who bade them so construe it? + + +FAUST (_falling upon his knees_) + +Here lieth one who loves thee ever, +The thraldom of thy woe to sever. + + +MARGARET (_flinging herself beside him_) + +O let us kneel, and call the Saints to hide us! +Under the steps beside us, +The threshold under, +Hell heaves in thunder! +The Evil One +With terrible wrath +Seeketh a path +His prey to discover! + +FAUST (_aloud_) + +Margaret! Margaret! + + +MARGARET (_attentively listening_) + +That was the voice of my lover! + +(_She springs to her feet: the fetters fall off_.) + +Where is he? I heard him call me. +I am free! No one shall enthrall me. +To his neck will I fly, +On his bosom lie! +On the threshold he stood, and _Margaret_! calling, +Midst of Hell's howling and noises appalling, +Midst of the wrathful, infernal derision, +I knew the sweet sound of the voice of the vision! + + +FAUST + +'Tis I! + +MARGARET + + 'Tis thou! O, say it once again! + + (_Clasping him_.) + +'Tis he! 'tis he! Where now is all my pain? +The anguish of the dungeon, and the chain? +'Tis thou! Thou comest to save me, +And I am saved!-- +Again the street I see +Where first I looked on thee; +And the garden, brightly blooming, +Where I and Martha wait thy coming. + + +FAUST (_struggling to leave_) + +Come! Come with me! + + +MARGARET + + Delay, now! +So fain I stay, when thou delayest! + + (_Caressing him_.) + + +FAUST + +Away, now! +If longer here thou stayest, +We shall be made to dearly rue it. + +MARGARET + +Kiss me!--canst no longer do it? +My friend, so short a time thou'rt missing, +And hast unlearned thy kissing? +Why is my heart so anxious, on thy breast? +Where once a heaven thy glances did create me, +A heaven thy loving words expressed, +And thou didst kiss, as thou wouldst suffocate me-- +Kiss me! +Or I'll kiss thee! + +(_She embraces him_.) + +Ah, woe! thy lips are chill, +And still. +How changed in fashion +Thy passion! +Who has done me this ill? + +(_She turns away from him_.) + +FAUST + +Come, follow me! My darling, be more bold: +I'll clasp thee, soon, with warmth a thousand-fold; +But follow now! 'Tis all I beg of thee. + +MARGARET (_turning to him_) + +And is it thou? Thou, surely, certainly? + +FAUST + +'Tis I! Come on! + +MARGARET + +Thou wilt unloose my chain, +And in thy lap wilt take me once again. +How comes it that thou dost not shrink from me?-- +Say, dost thou know, my friend, whom thou mak'st free? + +FAUST + +Come! come! The night already vanisheth. + + +MARGARET + +My mother have I put to death; +I've drowned the baby born to thee. +Was it not given to thee and me? +Thee, too!--'Tis thou! It scarcely true doth seem-- +Give me thy hand! 'Tis not a dream! +Thy dear, dear hand!--But, ah, 'tis wet! +Why, wipe it off! Methinks that yet +There's blood thereon. +Ah, God! what hast thou done? +Nay, sheathe thy sword at last! +Do not affray me! + + +FAUST + +O, let the past be past! +Thy words will slay me! + + +MARGARET + +No, no! Thou must outlive us. +Now I'll tell thee the graves to give us: +Thou must begin to-morrow +The work of sorrow! +The best place give to my mother, +Then close at her side my brother, +And me a little away, +But not too very far, I pray! +And here, on my right breast, my baby lay! +Nobody else will lie beside me!-- +Ah, within thine arms to hide me, +That was a sweet and a gracious bliss, +But no more, no more can I attain it! +I would force myself on thee and constrain it, +And it seems thou repellest my kiss: +And yet 'tis thou, so good, so kind to see! + + +FAUST + +If thou feel'st it is I, then come with me! + + +MARGARET + +Out yonder? + + +FAUST + +To freedom. + + +MARGARET + + If the grave is there, +Death lying in wait, then come! +From here to eternal rest: +No further step--no, no! +Thou goest away! O Henry, if I could go! + + +FAUST + +Thou canst! Just will it! Open stands the door. + + +MARGARET + +I dare not go: there's no hope any more. +Why should I fly? They'll still my steps waylay! +It is so wretched, forced to beg my living, +And a bad conscience sharper misery giving! +It is so wretched, to be strange, forsaken, +And I'd still be followed and taken! + + +FAUST + +I'll stay with thee. + + +MARGARET + +Be quick! Be quick! +Save thy perishing child! +Away! Follow the ridge +Up by the brook, + +[Illustration: _=If the grave is there, +Death lying in wait, then come=_!] + +Over the bridge, +Into the wood, +To the left, where the plank is placed +In the pool! +Seize it in haste! +'Tis trying to rise, +'Tis struggling still! +Save it! Save it! + + +FAUST + +Recall thy wandering will! +One step, and thou art free at last! + + +MARGARET + +If the mountain we had only passed! +There sits my mother upon a stone,-- +I feel an icy shiver! +There sits my mother upon a stone, +And her head is wagging ever. +She beckons, she nods not, her heavy head falls o'er; +She slept so long that she wakes no more. +She slept, while we were caressing: +Ah, those were the days of blessing! + + +FAUST + +Here words and prayers are nothing worth; +I'll venture, then, to bear thee forth. + + +MARGARET + +No--let me go! I'll suffer no force! +Grasp me not so murderously! +I've done, else, all things for the love of thee. + + +FAUST + +The day dawns: Dearest! Dearest! + +MARGARET + +Day? Yes, the day comes,--the last day breaks for me! +My wedding-day it was to be! +Tell no one thou has been with Margaret! +Woe for my garland! The chances +Are over--'tis all in vain! +We shall meet once again, +But not at the dances! +The crowd is thronging, no word is spoken: +The square below +And the streets overflow: +The death-bell tolls, the wand is broken. +I am seized, and bound, and delivered-- +Shoved to the block--they give the sign! +Now over each neck has quivered +The blade that is quivering over mine. +Dumb lies the world like the grave! + +FAUST + +O had I ne'er been born! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_appears outside_) + +Off! or you're lost ere morn. +Useless talking, delaying and praying! +My horses are neighing: +The morning twilight is near. + +MARGARET + +What rises up from the threshold here? +He! he! suffer him not! +What does he want in this holy spot? +He seeks me! + + +FAUST + +Thou shalt live. + +MARGARET + +Judgment of God! myself to thee I give. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Come! or I'll leave her in the lurch, and thee! + + +MARGARET + +Thine am I, Father! rescue me! +Ye angels, holy cohorts, guard me, +Camp around, and from evil ward me! +Henry! I shudder to think of thee. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +She is judged! + + +VOICE (_from above_) + + She is saved! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + + Hither to me! + +(_He disappears with_ FAUST.) + + +VOICE (_from within, dying away_) + +Henry! Henry! + +[illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAUST *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Faust + +Author: Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe + +Release Date: January 4, 2005 [EBook #14591] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAUST *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Chuck Greif and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team + + + + + + +[Illustration: Faust] +[Illustration] +[Illustration] +[Illustration: _Have you not led this life quite long enough?_] + + + + +FAUST + +_by_ + +_Johann Wolfgang von Goethe_ + +WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY + +_Harry Clarke_ + +TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH, IN +THE ORIGINAL METRES, BY + +_Bayard Taylor_ + + +_An Illustrated Edition_ + +THE WORLD PUBLISHING COMPANY + +CLEVELAND, OHIO NEW YORK, N.Y. + + + + +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + +CONTENTS + + +PREFACE +AN GOETHE +DEDICATION +PRELUDE AT THE THEATRE +PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN + +SCENE I. NIGHT (_Faust's Monologue_) + II. BEFORE THE CITY-GATE + III. THE STUDY (_The Exorcism_) + IV. THE STUDY (_The Compact_) + V. AUERBACH'S CELLAR + VI. WITCHES' KITCHEN + VII. A STREET + VIII. EVENING + IX. PROMENADE + X. THE NEIGHBOR'S HOUSE + XI. STREET + XII. GARDEN + XIII. A GARDEN-ARBOR + XIV. FOREST AND CAVERN + XV. MARGARET'S ROOM + XVI. MARTHA'S GARDEN + XVII. AT THE FOUNTAIN + XVIII. DONJON (_Margaret's Prayer_) + XIX. NIGHT (_Valentine's Death_) + XX. CATHEDRAL + XXI. WALPURGIS-NIGHT + XXII. OBERON AND TITANIA'S GOLDEN WEDDING + XXIII. DREARY DAY + XXIV. NIGHT + XXV. DUNGEON +[Illustration] + + + + +FAUST + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration: Preface] + +It is twenty years since I first determined to attempt the translation +of _Faust_, in the original metres. At that time, although more than a +score of English translations of the First Part, and three or four of +the Second Part, were in existence, the experiment had not yet been +made. The prose version of Hayward seemed to have been accepted as the +standard, in default of anything more satisfactory: the English critics, +generally sustaining the translator in his views concerning the +secondary importance of form in Poetry, practically discouraged any +further attempt; and no one, familiar with rhythmical expression through +the needs of his own nature, had devoted the necessary love and patience +to an adequate reproduction of the great work of Goethe's life. + +Mr. Brooks was the first to undertake the task, and the publication of +his translation of the First Part (in 1856) induced me, for a time, to +give up my own design. No previous English version exhibited such +abnegation of the translator's own tastes and habits of thought, such +reverent desire to present the original in its purest form. The care and +conscience with which the work had been performed were so apparent, that +I now state with reluctance what then seemed to me to be its only +deficiencies,--a lack of the lyrical fire and fluency of the original in +some passages, and an occasional lowering of the tone through the use of +words which are literal, but not equivalent. The plan of translation +adopted by Mr. Brooks was so entirely my own, that when further +residence in Germany and a more careful study of both parts of _Faust_ +had satisfied me that the field was still open,--that the means +furnished by the poetical affinity of the two languages had not yet been +exhausted,--nothing remained for me but to follow him in all essential +particulars. His example confirmed me in the belief that there were few +difficulties in the way of a nearly literal yet thoroughly rhythmical +version of _Faust_, which might not be overcome by loving labor. A +comparison of seventeen English translations, in the arbitrary metres +adopted by the translators, sufficiently showed the danger of allowing +license in this respect: the white light of Goethe's thought was thereby +passed through the tinted glass of other minds, and assumed the coloring +of each. Moreover, the plea of selecting different metres in the hope of +producing a similar effect is unreasonable, where the identical metres +are possible. + +The value of form, in a poetical work, is the first question to be +considered. No poet ever understood this question more thoroughly than +Goethe himself, or expressed a more positive opinion in regard to it. +The alternative modes of translation which he presents (reported by +Riemer, quoted by Mrs. Austin, in her "Characteristics of Goethe," and +accepted by Mr. Hayward),[A] are quite independent of his views +concerning the value of form, which we find given elsewhere, in the +clearest and most emphatic manner.[B] Poetry is not simply a fashion of +expression: it is the form of expression absolutely required by a +certain class of ideas. Poetry, indeed, may be distinguished from Prose +by the single circumstance, that it is the utterance of whatever in man +cannot be perfectly uttered in any other than a rhythmical form: it is +useless to say that the naked meaning is independent of the form: on the +contrary, the form contributes essentially to the fullness of the +meaning. In Poetry which endures through its own inherent vitality, +there is no forced union of these two elements. They are as intimately +blended, and with the same mysterious beauty, as the sexes in the +ancient Hermaphroditus. To attempt to represent Poetry in Prose, is very +much like attempting to translate music into speech.[C] + +[A] "'There are two maxims of translation,' says he: 'the one requires +that the author, of a foreign nation, be brought to us in such a manner +that we may regard him as our own; the other, on the contrary, demands +of us that we transport ourselves over to him, and adopt his situation, +his mode of speaking, and his peculiarities. The advantages of both are +sufficiently known to all instructed persons, from masterly examples.'" +Is it necessary, however, that there should always be this alternative? +Where the languages are kindred, and equally capable of all varieties of +metrical expression, may not both these "maxims" be observed in the same +translation? Goethe, it is true, was of the opinion that _Faust_ ought +to be given, in French, in the manner of Clement Marot; but this was +undoubtedly because he felt the inadequacy of modern French to express +the naive, simple realism of many passages. The same objection does not +apply to English. There are a few archaic expressions in _Faust_, but no +more than are still allowed--nay, frequently encouraged--in the English +of our day. + +[B] "You are right," said Goethe; "there are great and mysterious +agencies included in the various forms of Poetry. If the substance of my +'Roman Elegies' were to be expressed in the tone and measure of Byron's +'Don Juan,' it would really have an atrocious effect."--_Eckermann_. + +"The rhythm," said Goethe, "is an unconscious result of the poetic mood. +If one should stop to consider it mechanically, when about to write a +poem, one would become bewildered and accomplish nothing of real +poetical value."--_Ibid_. + +"_All that is poetic in character should be rythmically treated_! Such +is my conviction; and if even a sort of poetic prose should be gradually +introduced, it would only show that the distinction between prose and +poetry had been completely lost sight of."--_Goethe to Schiller_, 1797. + +Tycho Mommsen, in his excellent essay, _Die Kunst des Deutschen +Uebersetzers aus neueren Sprachen_, goes so far as to say: "The metrical +or rhymed modelling of a poetical work is so essentially the germ of its +being, that, rather than by giving it up, we might hope to construct a +similar work of art before the eyes of our countrymen, by giving up or +changing the substance. The immeasurable result which has followed works +wherein the form has been retained--such as the Homer of Voss, and the +Shakespeare of Tieck and Schlegel--is an incontrovertible evidence of +the vitality of the endeavor." + +[C] "Goethe's poems exercise a great sway over me, not only by their +meaning, but also by their rhythm. It is a language which stimulates me +to composition."--_Beethoven_. + +The various theories of translation from the Greek and Latin poets have +been admirably stated by Dryden in his Preface to the "Translations from +Ovid's Epistles," and I do not wish to continue the endless +discussion,--especially as our literature needs examples, not opinions. +A recent expression, however, carries with it so much authority, that I +feel bound to present some considerations which the accomplished scholar +seems to have overlooked. Mr. Lewes[D] justly says: "The effect of +poetry is a compound of music and suggestion; this music and this +suggestion are intermingled in words, which to alter is to alter the +effect. For words in poetry are not, as in prose, simple representatives +of objects and ideas: they are parts of an organic whole,--they are +tones in the harmony." He thereupon illustrates the effect of +translation by changing certain well-known English stanzas into others, +equivalent in meaning, but lacking their felicity of words, their grace +and melody. I cannot accept this illustration as valid, because Mr. +Lewes purposely omits the very quality which an honest translator should +exhaust his skill in endeavoring to reproduce. He turns away from the +_one best_ word or phrase in the English lines he quotes, whereas the +translator seeks precisely that one best word or phrase (having _all_ +the resources of his language at command), to represent what is said in +_another_ language. More than this, his task is not simply mechanical: +he must feel, and be guided by, a secondary inspiration. Surrendering +himself to the full possession of the spirit which shall speak through +him, he receives, also, a portion of the same creative power. Mr. Lewes +reaches this conclusion: "If, therefore, we reflect what a poem _Faust_ +is, and that it contains almost every variety of style and metre, it +will be tolerably evident that no one unacquainted with the original can +form an adequate idea of it from translation,"[E] which is certainly +correct of any translation wherein something of the rhythmical variety +and beauty of the original is not retained. That very much of the +rhythmical character may be retained in English, was long ago shown by +Mr. Carlyle,[F] in the passages which he translated, both literally and +rhythmically, from the _Helena_ (Part Second). In fact, we have so many +instances of the possibility of reciprocally transferring the finest +qualities of English and German poetry, that there is no sufficient +excuse for an unmetrical translation of _Faust_. I refer especially to +such subtile and melodious lyrics as "The Castle by the Sea," of Uhland, +and the "Silent Land" of Salis, translated by Mr. Longfellow; Goethe's +"Minstrel" and "Coptic Song," by Dr. Hedge; Heine's "Two Grenadiers," by +Dr. Furness and many of Heine's songs by Mr Leland; and also to the +German translations of English lyrics, by Freiligrath and Strodtmann.[G] + + +[D] Life of Goethe (Book VI.). + +[E] Mr. Lewes gives the following advice: "The English reader would +perhaps best succeed who should first read Dr. Anster's brilliant +paraphrase, and then carefully go through Hayward's prose translation." +This is singularly at variance with the view he has just expressed. Dr. +Anster's version is an almost incredible dilution of the original, +written in _other_ metres; while Hayward's entirely omits the element of +poetry. + +[F] Foreign Review, 1828. + +[G] When Freiligrath can thus give us Walter Scott:-- + +"Kommt, wie der Wind kommt, Wenn Wlder erzittern Kommt, wie die +Brandung Wenn Flotten zersplittern! Schnell heran, schnell herab, +Schneller kommt Al'e!--Huptling und Bub' und Knapp, Herr und Vasalle!" + +or Strodtmann thus reproduce Tennyson:-- + +"Es fllt der Strahl auf Burg und Thal, Und schneeige Gipfel, reich an +Sagen; Viel' Lichter wehn auf blauen Seen, Bergab die Wasserstrze +jagen! Blas, Hfthorn, blas, in Wiederhall erschallend: Blas, +Horn--antwortet, Echos, hallend, hallend, hallend!" + +--it must be a dull ear which would be satisfied with the omission of +rhythm and rhyme. + +I have a more serious objection, however, to urge against Mr. Hayward's +prose translation. Where all the restraints of verse are flung aside, we +should expect, at least, as accurate a reproduction of the sense, +spirit, and tone of the original, as the genius of our language will +permit. So far from having given us such a reproduction, Mr. Hayward not +only occasionally mistakes the exact meaning of the German text,[H] but, +wherever two phrases may be used to express the meaning with equal +fidelity, he very frequently selects that which has the less grace, +strength, or beauty.[I] + +[H] On his second page, the line _Mein Lied ertnt der unbekannten +Menge_, "My song sounds to the unknown multitude," is translated: "My +_sorrow_ voices itself to the strange throng." Other English +translators, I notice, have followed Mr. Hayward in mistaking _Lied_ for +_Leid_. + +I: + I take but one out of numerous instances, for the sake of +illustration. The close of the Soldier's Song (Part I. Scene II.) is:-- + + "Khn is das Mhen, + Herrlich der Lohn! + Und die Soldaten + Ziehen davon." + +Literally: + + Bold is the endeavor, + Splendid the pay! + And the soldiers + March away. + +This Mr. Hayward translates:-- + + Bold the adventure, + Noble the reward-- + And the soldiers + Are off. + +For there are few things which may not be said, in English, in a twofold +manner,--one poetic, and the other prosaic. In German, equally, a word +which in ordinary use has a bare prosaic character may receive a fairer +and finer quality from its place in verse. The prose translator should +certainly be able to feel the manifestation of this law in both +languages, and should so choose his words as to meet their reciprocal +requirements. A man, however, who is not keenly sensible to the power +and beauty and value of rhythm, is likely to overlook these delicate yet +most necessary distinctions. The author's thought is stripped of a last +grace in passing through his mind, and frequently presents very much the +same resemblance to the original as an unhewn shaft to the fluted +column. Mr. Hayward unconsciously illustrates his lack of a refined +appreciation of verse, "in giving," as he says, "_a sort of rhythmical +arrangement_ to the lyrical parts," his object being "to convey some +notion of the variety of versification which forms one great charm of +the poem." A literal translation is always possible in the unrhymed +passages; but even here Mr. Hayward's ear did not dictate to him the +necessity of preserving the original rhythm. + +While, therefore, I heartily recognize his lofty appreciation of +_Faust_,--while I honor him for the patient and conscientious labor he +has bestowed upon his translation,--I cannot but feel that he has +himself illustrated the unsoundness of his argument. Nevertheless, the +circumstance that his prose translation of _Faust_ has received so much +acceptance proves those qualities of the original work which cannot be +destroyed by a test so violent. From the cold bare outline thus +produced, the reader unacquainted with the German language would +scarcely guess what glow of color, what richness of changeful life, what +fluent grace and energy of movement have been lost in the process. We +must, of course, gratefully receive such an outline, where a nearer +approach to the form of the original is impossible, but, until the +latter has been demonstrated, we are wrong to remain content with the +cheaper substitute. + +It seems to me that in all discussions upon this subject the capacities +of the English language have received but scanty justice. The +intellectual tendencies of our race have always been somewhat +conservative, and its standards of literary taste or belief, once set +up, are not varied without a struggle. The English ear is suspicious of +new metres and unaccustomed forms of expression: there are critical +detectives on the track of every author, and a violation of the accepted +canons is followed by a summons to judgment. Thus the tendency is to +contract rather than to expand the acknowledged excellences of the +language.[J] + +[J] I cannot resist the temptation of quoting the following passage from +Jacob Grimm: "No one of all the modern languages has acquired a greater +force and strength than the English, through the derangement and +relinquishment of its ancient laws of sound. The unteachable +(nevertheless _learnable_) profusion of its middle-tones has conferred +upon it an intrinsic power of expression, such as no other human tongue +ever possessed. Its entire, thoroughly intellectual and wonderfully +successful foundation and perfected development issued from a marvelous +union of the two noblest tongues of Europe, the Germanic and the +Romanic. Their mutual relation in the English language is well known, +since the former furnished chiefly the material basis, while the latter +added the intellectual conceptions. The English language, by and through +which the greatest and most eminent poet of modern times--as contrasted +with ancient classical poetry--(of course I can refer only to +Shakespeare) was begotten and nourished, has a just claim to be called a +language of the world; and it appears to be destined, like the English +race, to a higher and broader sway in all quarters of the earth. For in +richness, in compact adjustment of parts, and in pure intelligence, none +of the living languages can be compared with it,--not even our German, +which is divided even as we are divided, and which must cast off many +imperfections before it can boldly enter on its career."--_Ueber den +Ursprung der Sprache_. + +The difficulties in the way of a nearly literal translation of _Faust_ +in the original metres have been exaggerated, because certain affinities +between the two languages have not been properly considered. With all +the splendor of versification in the work, it contains but few metres of +which the English tongue is not equally capable. Hood has familiarized +us with dactylic (triple) rhymes, and they are remarkably abundant and +skillful in Mr. Lowell's "Fable for the Critics": even the unrhymed +iambic hexameter of the _Helena_ occurs now and then in Milton's _Samson +Agonistes_. It is true that the metrical foot into which the German +language most naturally falls is the _trochaic_, while in English it is +the _iambic_: it is true that German is rich, involved, and tolerant of +new combinations, while English is simple, direct, and rather shy of +compounds; but precisely these differences are so modified in the German +of _Faust_ that there is a mutual approach of the two languages. In +_Faust_, the iambic measure predominates; the style is compact; the many +licenses which the author allows himself are all directed towards a +shorter mode of construction. On the other hand, English metre compels +the use of inversions, admits many verbal liberties prohibited to prose, +and so inclines towards various flexible features of its sister-tongue +that many lines of _Faust_ may be repeated in English without the +slightest change of meaning, measure, or rhyme. There are words, it is +true, with so delicate a bloom upon them that it can in no wise be +preserved; but even such words will always lose less when they carry +with them their rhythmical atmosphere. The flow of Goethe's verse is +sometimes so similar to that of the corresponding English metre, that +not only its harmonies and caesural pauses, but even its punctuation, +may be easily retained. + +I am satisfied that the difference between a translation of _Faust_ in +prose or metre is chiefly one of labor,--and of that labor which is +successful in proportion as it is joyously performed. My own task has +been cheered by the discovery, that the more closely I reproduced the +language of the original, the more of its rhythmical character was +transferred at the same time. If, now and then, there was an inevitable +alternative of meaning or music, I gave the preference to the former. By +the term "original metres" I do not mean a rigid, unyielding adherence +to every foot, line, and rhyme of the German original, although this has +very nearly been accomplished. Since the greater part of the work is +written in an irregular measure, the lines varying from three to six +feet, and the rhymes arranged according to the author's will, I do not +consider that an occasional change in the number of feet, or order of +rhyme, is any violation of the metrical plan. The single slight liberty +I have taken with the lyrical passages is in Margaret's song,--"The King +of Thule,"--in which, by omitting the alternate feminine rhymes, yet +retaining the metre, I was enabled to make the translation strictly +literal. If, in two or three instances, I have left a line unrhymed, I +have balanced the omission by giving rhymes to other lines which stand +unrhymed in the original text. For the same reason, I make no apology +for the imperfect rhymes, which are frequently a translation as well as +a necessity. With all its supreme qualities, _Faust_ is far from being a +technically perfect work.[K] + +[K] "At present, everything runs in technical grooves, and the critical +gentlemen begin to wrangle whether in a rhyme an _s_ should correspond +with an _s_ and not with _sz_. If I were young and reckless enough, I +would purposely offend all such technical caprices: I would use +alliteration, assonance, false rhyme, just according to my own will or +convenience--but, at the same time, I would attend to the main thing, +and endeavor to say so many good things that every one would be +attracted to read and remember them."--_Goethe_, in 1831. + +The feminine and dactylic rhymes, which have been for the most part +omitted by all metrical translators except Mr. Brooks, are +indispensable. The characteristic tone of many passages would be nearly +lost, without them. They give spirit and grace to the dialogue, point to +the aphoristic portions (especially in the Second Part), and an +ever-changing music to the lyrical passages. The English language, +though not so rich as the German in such rhymes, is less deficient than +is generally supposed. The difficulty to be overcome is one of +construction rather than of the vocabulary. The present participle can +only be used to a limited extent, on account of its weak termination, +and the want of an accusative form to the noun also restricts the +arrangement of words in English verse. I cannot hope to have been always +successful; but I have at least labored long and patiently, bearing +constantly in mind not only the meaning of the original and the +mechanical structure of the lines, but also that subtile and haunting +music which seems to govern rhythm instead of being governed by it. + +B.T. + +[Illustration] + + + + +AN GOETHE + +_Erhabener Geist, im Geisterreich verloren! +Wo immer Deine lichte Wohnung sey, +Zum hh'ren Schaffen bist Du neugeboren, +Und singest dort die voll're Litanei. +Von jenem Streben das Du auserkoren, +Vom reinsten Aether, drin Du athmest frei, +O neige Dich zu gndigem Erwiedern +Des letzten Wiederhalls von Deinen Liedern! + + +II + +Den alten Musen die bestubten Kronen +Nahmst Du, zu neuem Glanz, mit khner Hand: +Du lst die Rthsel ltester Aeonen +Durch jngeren Glauben, helleren Verstand, +Und machst, wo rege Menschengeister wohnen, +Die ganze Erde Dir zum Vaterland; +Und Deine Jnger sehn in Dir, verwundert, +Verkrpert schon das werdende Jahrhundert. + + +III + +Was Du gesungen, Aller Lust und Klagen, +Des Lebens Wiedersprche, neu vermhlt,-- +Die Harfe tausendstimmig frisch geschlagen, +Die Shakspeare einst, die einst Homer gewhlt,-- +Darf ich in fremde Klnge bertragen +Das Alles, wo so Mancher schon gefehlt? +Lass Deinen Geist in meiner Stimme klingen, +Und was Du sangst, lass mich es Dir nachsingen!_ + +B.T. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration: =Dedication=] + +Again ye come, ye hovering Forms! I find ye, +As early to my clouded sight ye shone! +Shall I attempt, this once, to seize and bind ye? +Still o'er my heart is that illusion thrown? +Ye crowd more near! Then, be the reign assigned ye, +And sway me from your misty, shadowy zone! +My bosom thrills, with youthful passion shaken, +From magic airs that round your march awaken. + +Of joyous days ye bring the blissful vision; +The dear, familiar phantoms rise again, +And, like an old and half-extinct tradition, +First Love returns, with Friendship in his train. +Renewed is Pain: with mournful repetition +Life tracks his devious, labyrinthine chain, +And names the Good, whose cheating fortune tore them +From happy hours, and left me to deplore them. + +They hear no longer these succeeding measures, +The souls, to whom my earliest songs I sang: + +Dispersed the friendly troop, with all its pleasures, +And still, alas! the echoes first that rang! +I bring the unknown multitude my treasures; +Their very plaudits give my heart a pang, +And those beside, whose joy my Song so flattered, +If still they live, wide through the world are scattered. + +And grasps me now a long-unwonted yearning +For that serene and solemn Spirit-Land: +My song, to faint Aeolian murmurs turning, +Sways like a harp-string by the breezes fanned. +I thrill and tremble; tear on tear is burning, +And the stern heart is tenderly unmanned. +What I possess, I see far distant lying, +And what I lost, grows real and undying. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration: =Prelude at the Theatre=] + + + +MANAGER DRAMATIC POET MERRY-ANDREW + +MANAGER + +You two, who oft a helping hand +Have lent, in need and tribulation. +Come, let me know your expectation +Of this, our enterprise, in German land! +I wish the crowd to feel itself well treated, +Especially since it lives and lets me live; +The posts are set, the booth of boards completed. +And each awaits the banquet I shall give. +Already there, with curious eyebrows raised, +They sit sedate, and hope to be amazed. +I know how one the People's taste may flatter, +Yet here a huge embarrassment I feel: +What they're accustomed to, is no great matter, +But then, alas! they've read an awful deal. +How shall we plan, that all be fresh and new,-- +Important matter, yet attractive too? +For 'tis my pleasure-to behold them surging, +When to our booth the current sets apace, +And with tremendous, oft-repeated urging, +Squeeze onward through the narrow gate of grace: +By daylight even, they push and cram in +To reach the seller's box, a fighting host, +And as for bread, around a baker's door, in famine, +To get a ticket break their necks almost. +This miracle alone can work the Poet +On men so various: now, my friend, pray show it. + + +POET + + +Speak not to me of yonder motley masses, +Whom but to see, puts out the fire of Song! +Hide from my view the surging crowd that passes, +And in its whirlpool forces us along! +No, lead me where some heavenly silence glasses +The purer joys that round the Poet throng,-- +Where Love and Friendship still divinely fashion +The bonds that bless, the wreaths that crown his passion! +Ah, every utterance from the depths of feeling +The timid lips have stammeringly expressed,-- +Now failing, now, perchance, success revealing,-- +Gulps the wild Moment in its greedy breast; +Or oft, reluctant years its warrant sealing, +Its perfect stature stands at last confessed! +What dazzles, for the Moment spends its spirit: +What's genuine, shall Posterity inherit. + + +MERRY-ANDREW + + +Posterity! Don't name the word to me! +If _I_ should choose to preach Posterity, +Where would you get contemporary fun? +That men _will_ have it, there's no blinking: +A fine young fellow's presence, to my thinking, +Is something worth, to every one. +Who genially his nature can outpour, +Takes from the People's moods no irritation; +The wider circle he acquires, the more +Securely works his inspiration. +Then pluck up heart, and give us sterling coin! +Let Fancy be with her attendants fitted,-- +Sense, Reason, Sentiment, and Passion join,-- +But have a care, lest Folly be omitted! + +MANAGER + +Chiefly, enough of incident prepare! +They come to look, and they prefer to stare. +Reel off a host of threads before their faces, +So that they gape in stupid wonder: then +By sheer diffuseness you have won their graces, +And are, at once, most popular of men. +Only by mass you touch the mass; for any +Will finally, himself, his bit select: +Who offers much, brings something unto many, +And each goes home content with the effect, +If you've a piece, why, just in pieces give it: +A hash, a stew, will bring success, believe it! +'Tis easily displayed, and easy to invent. +What use, a Whole compactly to present? +Your hearers pick and pluck, as soon as they receive it! + +POET + +You do not feel, how such a trade debases; +How ill it suits the Artist, proud and true! +The botching work each fine pretender traces +Is, I perceive, a principle with you. + +MANAGER + +Such a reproach not in the least offends; +A man who some result intends +Must use the tools that best are fitting. +Reflect, soft wood is given to you for splitting, +And then, observe for whom you write! +If one comes bored, exhausted quite, +Another, satiate, leaves the banquet's tapers, +And, worst of all, full many a wight +Is fresh from reading of the daily papers. +Idly to us they come, as to a masquerade, +Mere curiosity their spirits warming: +The ladies with themselves, and with their finery, aid, +Without a salary their parts performing. +What dreams are yours in high poetic places? +You're pleased, forsooth, full houses to behold? +Draw near, and view your patrons' faces! +The half are coarse, the half are cold. +One, when the play is out, goes home to cards; +A wild night on a wench's breast another chooses: +Why should you rack, poor, foolish bards, +For ends like these, the gracious Muses? +I tell you, give but more--more, ever more, they ask: +Thus shall you hit the mark of gain and glory. +Seek to confound your auditory! +To satisfy them is a task.-- +What ails you now? Is't suffering, or pleasure? + +POET + +Go, find yourself a more obedient slave! +What! shall the Poet that which Nature gave, +The highest right, supreme Humanity, +Forfeit so wantonly, to swell your treasure? +Whence o'er the heart his empire free? +The elements of Life how conquers he? +Is't not his heart's accord, urged outward far and dim, +To wind the world in unison with him? +When on the spindle, spun to endless distance, +By Nature's listless hand the thread is twirled, +And the discordant tones of all existence +In sullen jangle are together hurled, +Who, then, the changeless orders of creation +Divides, and kindles into rhythmic dance? +Who brings the One to join the general ordination, +Where it may throb in grandest consonance? +Who bids the storm to passion stir the bosom? +In brooding souls the sunset burn above? +Who scatters every fairest April blossom +Along the shining path of Love? +Who braids the noteless leaves to crowns, requiting +Desert with fame, in Action's every field? +Who makes Olympus sure, the Gods uniting? +The might of Man, as in the Bard revealed. + +MERRY-ANDREW + +So, these fine forces, in conjunction, +Propel the high poetic function, +As in a love-adventure they might play! +You meet by accident; you feel, you stay, +And by degrees your heart is tangled; +Bliss grows apace, and then its course is jangled; +You're ravished quite, then comes a touch of woe, +And there's a neat romance, completed ere you know! +Let us, then, such a drama give! +Grasp the exhaustless life that all men live! +Each shares therein, though few may comprehend: +Where'er you touch, there's interest without end. +In motley pictures little light, +Much error, and of truth a glimmering mite, +Thus the best beverage is supplied, +Whence all the world is cheered and edified. +Then, at your play, behold the fairest flower +Of youth collect, to hear the revelation! +Each tender soul, with sentimental power, +Sucks melancholy food from your creation; +And now in this, now that, the leaven works. +For each beholds what in his bosom lurks. +They still are moved at once to weeping or to laughter, +Still wonder at your flights, enjoy the show they see: +A mind, once formed, is never suited after; +One yet in growth will ever grateful be. + +POET + +Then give me back that time of pleasures, +While yet in joyous growth I sang,-- +When, like a fount, the crowding measures +Uninterrupted gushed and sprang! +Then bright mist veiled the world before me, +In opening buds a marvel woke, +As I the thousand blossoms broke, +Which every valley richly bore me! +I nothing had, and yet enough for youth-- +Joy in Illusion, ardent thirst for Truth. +Give, unrestrained, the old emotion, +The bliss that touched the verge of pain, +The strength of Hate, Love's deep devotion,-- +O, give me back my youth again! + +MERRY ANDREW + +Youth, good my friend, you certainly require +When foes in combat sorely press you; +When lovely maids, in fond desire, +Hang on your bosom and caress you; +When from the hard-won goal the wreath +Beckons afar, the race awaiting; +When, after dancing out your breath, +You pass the night in dissipating:-- +But that familiar harp with soul +To play,--with grace and bold expression, +And towards a self-erected goal +To walk with many a sweet digression,-- +This, aged Sirs, belongs to you, +And we no less revere you for that reason: +Age childish makes, they say, but 'tis not true; +We're only genuine children still, in Age's season! + + +MANAGER + +The words you've bandied are sufficient; +'Tis deeds that I prefer to see: +In compliments you're both proficient, +But might, the while, more useful be. +What need to talk of Inspiration? +'Tis no companion of Delay. +If Poetry be your vocation, +Let Poetry your will obey! +Full well you know what here is wanting; +The crowd for strongest drink is panting, +And such, forthwith, I'd have you brew. +What's left undone to-day, To-morrow will not do. +Waste not a day in vain digression: +With resolute, courageous trust +Seize every possible impression, +And make it firmly your possession; +You'll then work on, because you must. +Upon our German stage, you know it, +Each tries his hand at what he will; +So, take of traps and scenes your fill, +And all you find, be sure to show it! +Use both the great and lesser heavenly light,-- +Squander the stars in any number, +Beasts, birds, trees, rocks, and all such lumber, +Fire, water, darkness, Day and Night! +Thus, in our booth's contracted sphere, +The circle of Creation will appear, +And move, as we deliberately impel, +From Heaven, across the World, to Hell! +[Illustration] +[Illustration] + +PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN + +THE LORD THE HEAVENLY HOST _Afterwards_ +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_The_ THREE ARCHANGELS _come forward_.) + + +RAPHAEL + +The sun-orb sings, in emulation, +'Mid brother-spheres, his ancient round: +His path predestined through Creation +He ends with step of thunder-sound. +The angels from his visage splendid +Draw power, whose measure none can say; +The lofty works, uncomprehended, +Are bright as on the earliest day. + + +GABRIEL + +And swift, and swift beyond conceiving, +The splendor of the world goes round, +Day's Eden-brightness still relieving +The awful Night's intense profound: +The ocean-tides in foam are breaking, +Against the rocks' deep bases hurled, +And both, the spheric race partaking, +Eternal, swift, are onward whirled! + + +MICHAEL + +And rival storms abroad are surging +From sea to land, from land to sea. +A chain of deepest action forging +Round all, in wrathful energy. +There flames a desolation, blazing +Before the Thunder's crashing way: +Yet, Lord, Thy messengers are praising +The gentle movement of Thy Day. + + +THE THREE + +Though still by them uncomprehended, +From these the angels draw their power, +And all Thy works, sublime and splendid, +Are bright as in Creation's hour. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Since Thou, O Lord, deign'st to approach again +And ask us how we do, in manner kindest, +And heretofore to meet myself wert fain, +Among Thy menials, now, my face Thou findest. +Pardon, this troop I cannot follow after +With lofty speech, though by them scorned and spurned: +My pathos certainly would move Thy laughter, +If Thou hadst not all merriment unlearned. +Of suns and worlds I've nothing to be quoted; +How men torment themselves, is all I've noted. +The little god o' the world sticks to the same old way, +And is as whimsical as on Creation's day. +Life somewhat better might content him, +But for the gleam of heavenly light which Thou hast lent + him: +He calls it Reason--thence his power's increased, +To be far beastlier than any beast. +Saving Thy Gracious Presence, he to me +A long-legged grasshopper appears to be, +That springing flies, and flying springs, +And in the grass the same old ditty sings. +Would he still lay among the grass he grows in! +Each bit of dung he seeks, to stick his nose in. + + +THE LORD + +Hast thou, then, nothing more to mention? +Com'st ever, thus, with ill intention? +Find'st nothing right on earth, eternally? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No, Lord! I find things, there, still bad as they can be. +Man's misery even to pity moves my nature; +I've scarce the heart to plague the wretched creature. + + +THE LORD + +Know'st Faust? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The Doctor Faust? + + +THE LORD + +My servant, he! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Forsooth! He serves you after strange devices: +No earthly meat or drink the fool suffices: +His spirit's ferment far aspireth; +Half conscious of his frenzied, crazed unrest, +The fairest stars from Heaven he requireth, +From Earth the highest raptures and the best, +And all the Near and Far that he desireth +Fails to subdue the tumult of his breast. + + +THE LORD + +Though still confused his service unto Me, +I soon shall lead him to a clearer morning. +Sees not the gardener, even while buds his tree, +Both flower and fruit the future years adorning? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What will you bet? There's still a chance to gain him, +If unto me full leave you give, +Gently upon _my_ road to train him! + + +THE LORD + +As long as he on earth shall live, +So long I make no prohibition. +While Man's desires and aspirations stir, +He cannot choose but err. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My thanks! I find the dead no acquisition, +And never cared to have them in my keeping. +I much prefer the cheeks where ruddy blood is leaping, +And when a corpse approaches, close my house: +It goes with me, as with the cat the mouse. + + +THE LORD + +Enough! What thou hast asked is granted. +Turn off this spirit from his fountain-head; +To trap him, let thy snares be planted, +And him, with thee, be downward led; +Then stand abashed, when thou art forced to say: +A good man, through obscurest aspiration, +Has still an instinct of the one true way. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Agreed! But 'tis a short probation. +About my bet I feel no trepidation. +If I fulfill my expectation, +You'll let me triumph with a swelling breast: +Dust shall he eat, and with a zest, +As did a certain snake, my near relation. + + +THE LORD + +Therein thou'rt free, according to thy merits; +The like of thee have never moved My hate. +Of all the bold, denying Spirits, +The waggish knave least trouble doth create. +Man's active nature, flagging, seeks too soon the level; +Unqualified repose he learns to crave; +Whence, willingly, the comrade him I gave, +Who works, excites, and must create, as Devil. +But ye, God's sons in love and duty, +Enjoy the rich, the ever-living Beauty! +Creative Power, that works eternal schemes, +Clasp you in bonds of love, relaxing never, +And what in wavering apparition gleams +Fix in its place with thoughts that stand forever! + + +(_Heaven closes: the_ ARCHANGELS _separate_.) + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_solus_) + +I like, at times, to hear The Ancient's word, +And have a care to be most civil: +It's really kind of such a noble Lord +So humanly to gossip with the Devil! +[Illustration] +[Illustration] + + + + +FIRST PART OF THE TRAGEDY + +I + +NIGHT + +(_A lofty-arched, narrow, Gothic chamber_. FAUST, _in a chair at his +desk, restless_.) + + +FAUST + +I've studied now Philosophy +And Jurisprudence, Medicine,-- +And even, alas! Theology,-- +From end to end, with labor keen; +And here, poor fool! with all my lore +I stand, no wiser than before: +I'm Magister--yea, Doctor--hight, +And straight or cross-wise, wrong or right, +These ten years long, with many woes, +I've led my scholars by the nose,-- +And see, that nothing can be known! +_That_ knowledge cuts me to the bone. +I'm cleverer, true, than those fops of teachers, +Doctors and Magisters, Scribes and Preachers; +Neither scruples nor doubts come now to smite me, +Nor Hell nor Devil can longer affright me. + +For this, all pleasure am I foregoing; +I do not pretend to aught worth knowing, +I do not pretend I could be a teacher +To help or convert a fellow-creature. +Then, too, I've neither lands nor gold, +Nor the world's least pomp or honor hold-- +No dog would endure such a curst existence! +Wherefore, from Magic I seek assistance, +That many a secret perchance I reach +Through spirit-power and spirit-speech, +And thus the bitter task forego +Of saying the things I do not know,-- +That I may detect the inmost force +Which binds the world, and guides its course; +Its germs, productive powers explore, +And rummage in empty words no more! + +O full and splendid Moon, whom I +Have, from this desk, seen climb the sky +So many a midnight,--would thy glow +For the last time beheld my woe! +Ever thine eye, most mournful friend, +O'er books and papers saw me bend; +But would that I, on mountains grand, +Amid thy blessed light could stand, +With spirits through mountain-caverns hover, +Float in thy twilight the meadows over, +And, freed from the fumes of lore that swathe me, +To health in thy dewy fountains bathe me! + +Ah, me! this dungeon still I see. +This drear, accursed masonry, +Where even the welcome daylight strains +But duskly through the painted panes. +Hemmed in by many a toppling heap +Of books worm-eaten, gray with dust, +Which to the vaulted ceiling creep, +Against the smoky paper thrust,-- +With glasses, boxes, round me stacked, +And instruments together hurled, +Ancestral lumber, stuffed and packed-- +Such is my world: and what a world! + +And do I ask, wherefore my heart +Falters, oppressed with unknown needs? +Why some inexplicable smart +All movement of my life impedes? +Alas! in living Nature's stead, +Where God His human creature set, +In smoke and mould the fleshless dead +And bones of beasts surround me yet! + +Fly! Up, and seek the broad, free land! +And this one Book of Mystery +From Nostradamus' very hand, +Is't not sufficient company? +When I the starry courses know, +And Nature's wise instruction seek, +With light of power my soul shall glow, +As when to spirits spirits speak. +Tis vain, this empty brooding here, +Though guessed the holy symbols be: +Ye, Spirits, come--ye hover near-- +Oh, if you hear me, answer me! + +(_He opens the Book, and perceives the sign of the Macrocosm_.) + +Ha! what a sudden rapture leaps from this +I view, through all my senses swiftly flowing! +I feel a youthful, holy, vital bliss +In every vein and fibre newly glowing. +Was it a God, who traced this sign, +With calm across my tumult stealing, +My troubled heart to joy unsealing, +With impulse, mystic and divine, +The powers of Nature here, around my path, revealing? +Am I a God?--so clear mine eyes! +In these pure features I behold +Creative Nature to my soul unfold. +What says the sage, now first I recognize: +"The spirit-world no closures fasten; +Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead: +Disciple, up! untiring, hasten +To bathe thy breast in morning-red!" + +(_He contemplates the sign_.) + +How each the Whole its substance gives, +Each in the other works and lives! +Like heavenly forces rising and descending, +Their golden urns reciprocally lending, +With wings that winnow blessing +From Heaven through Earth I see them pressing, +Filling the All with harmony unceasing! +How grand a show! but, ah! a show alone. +Thee, boundless Nature, how make thee my own? +Where you, ye beasts? Founts of all Being, shining, +Whereon hang Heaven's and Earth's desire, +Whereto our withered hearts aspire,-- +Ye flow, ye feed: and am I vainly pining? + +(_He turns the leaves impatiently, and perceives the sign of the +Earth-Spirit_.) + +How otherwise upon me works this sign! +Thou, Spirit of the Earth, art nearer: +Even now my powers are loftier, clearer; +I glow, as drunk with new-made wine: +New strength and heart to meet the world incite me, +The woe of earth, the bliss of earth, invite me, +And though the shock of storms may smite me, +No crash of shipwreck shall have power to fright me! +Clouds gather over me-- +The moon conceals her light-- +The lamp's extinguished!-- +Mists rise,--red, angry rays are darting +Around my head!--There falls +A horror from the vaulted roof, +And seizes me! +I feel thy presence, Spirit I invoke! +Reveal thyself! +Ha! in my heart what rending stroke! +With new impulsion +My senses heave in this convulsion! +I feel thee draw my heart, absorb, exhaust me: +Thou must! thou must! and though my life it cost me! + +(_He seizes the book, and mysteriously pronounces the sign of +the Spirit. A ruddy flame flashes: the Spirit appears in +the flame_.) + + +SPIRIT + +Who calls me? + + +FAUST (_with averted head_) + +Terrible to see! + + +SPIRIT + +Me hast thou long with might attracted, +Long from my sphere thy food exacted, +And now-- + +FAUST + + Woe! I endure not thee! + + +SPIRIT + +To view me is thine aspiration, +My voice to hear, my countenance to see; +Thy powerful yearning moveth me, +Here am I!--what mean perturbation +Thee, superhuman, shakes? Thy soul's high calling, where? +Where is the breast, which from itself a world did bear, +And shaped and cherished--which with joy expanded, +To be our peer, with us, the Spirits, banded? +Where art thou, Faust, whose voice has pierced to me, +Who towards me pressed with all thine energy? +_He_ art thou, who, my presence breathing, seeing, +Trembles through all the depths of being, +A writhing worm, a terror-stricken form? + + +FAUST + +Thee, form of flame, shall I then fear? +Yes, I am Faust: I am thy peer! + + +SPIRIT + + In the tides of Life, in Action's storm, + A fluctuant wave, + A shuttle free, + Birth and the Grave, + An eternal sea, + A weaving, flowing + Life, all-glowing, +Thus at Time's humming loom 'tis my hand prepares +The garment of Life which the Deity wears! + + +FAUST + +Thou, who around the wide world wendest, +Thou busy Spirit, how near I feel to thee! + + +SPIRIT + +Thou'rt like the Spirit which thou comprehendest, +Not me! + +(_Disappears_.) + + +FAUST (_overwhelmed_) + +Not thee! +Whom then? +I, image of the Godhead! +Not even like thee! + +(_A knock_). + +O Death!--I know it--'tis my Famulus! +My fairest luck finds no fruition: +In all the fullness of my vision +The soulless sneak disturbs me thus! + +(_Enter_ WAGNER_, in dressing-gown and night-cap, a lamp in +his hand. _FAUST_ turns impatiently_.) + + +WAGNER + +Pardon, I heard your declamation; +'Twas sure an old Greek tragedy you read? +In such an art I crave some preparation, +Since now it stands one in good stead. +I've often heard it said, a preacher +Might learn, with a comedian for a teacher. + + +FAUST + +Yes, when the priest comedian is by nature, +As haply now and then the case may be. + + +WAGNER + +Ah, when one studies thus, a prisoned creature, +That scarce the world on holidays can see,-- +Scarce through a glass, by rare occasion, +How shall one lead it by persuasion? + + +FAUST + +You'll ne'er attain it, save you know the feeling, +Save from the soul it rises clear, +Serene in primal strength, compelling +The hearts and minds of all who hear. +You sit forever gluing, patching; +You cook the scraps from others' fare; +And from your heap of ashes hatching +A starveling flame, ye blow it bare! +Take children's, monkeys' gaze admiring, +If such your taste, and be content; +But ne'er from heart to heart you'll speak inspiring, +Save your own heart is eloquent! + + +WAGNER + +Yet through delivery orators succeed; +I feel that I am far behind, indeed. + + +FAUST + +Seek thou the honest recompense! +Beware, a tinkling fool to be! +With little art, clear wit and sense +Suggest their own delivery; +And if thou'rt moved to speak in earnest, +What need, that after words thou yearnest? +Yes, your discourses, with their glittering show, +Where ye for men twist shredded thought like paper, +Are unrefreshing as the winds that blow +The rustling leaves through chill autumnal vapor! + + +WAGNER + +Ah, God! but Art is long, +And Life, alas! is fleeting. +And oft, with zeal my critic-duties meeting, +In head and breast there's something wrong. + +How hard it is to compass the assistance +Whereby one rises to the source! +And, haply, ere one travels half the course +Must the poor devil quit existence. + + +FAUST + +Is parchment, then, the holy fount before thee, +A draught wherefrom thy thirst forever slakes? +No true refreshment can restore thee, +Save what from thine own soul spontaneous breaks. + + +WAGNER + +Pardon! a great delight is granted +When, in the spirit of the ages planted, +We mark how, ere our times, a sage has thought, +And then, how far his work, and grandly, we have brought. + + +FAUST + +O yes, up to the stars at last! +Listen, my friend: the ages that are past +Are now a book with seven seals protected: +What you the Spirit of the Ages call +Is nothing but the spirit of you all, +Wherein the Ages are reflected. +So, oftentimes, you miserably mar it! +At the first glance who sees it runs away. +An offal-barrel and a lumber-garret, +Or, at the best, a Punch-and-Judy play, +With maxims most pragmatical and hitting, +As in the mouths of puppets are befitting! + + +WAGNER + +But then, the world--the human heart and brain! +Of these one covets some slight apprehension. + + +FAUST + +Yes, of the kind which men attain! +Who dares the child's true name in public mention? +The few, who thereof something really learned, +Unwisely frank, with hearts that spurned concealing, +And to the mob laid bare each thought and feeling, +Have evermore been crucified and burned. +I pray you, Friend, 'tis now the dead of night; +Our converse here must be suspended. + + +WAGNER + +I would have shared your watches with delight, +That so our learned talk might be extended. +To-morrow, though, I'll ask, in Easter leisure, +This and the other question, at your pleasure. +Most zealously I seek for erudition: +Much do I know--but to know all is my ambition. + + [_Exit_. + + +FAUST (_solus_) + +That brain, alone, not loses hope, whose choice is +To stick in shallow trash forevermore,-- +Which digs with eager hand for buried ore, +And, when it finds an angle-worm, rejoices! + +Dare such a human voice disturb the flow, +Around me here, of spirit-presence fullest? +And yet, this once my thanks I owe +To thee, of all earth's sons the poorest, dullest! +For thou hast torn me from that desperate state +Which threatened soon to overwhelm my senses: +The apparition was so giant-great, +It dwarfed and withered all my soul's pretences! + +I, image of the Godhead, who began-- +Deeming Eternal Truth secure in nearness-- +Ye choirs, have ye begun the sweet, consoling chant, +Which, through the night of Death, the angels ministrant +Sang, God's new Covenant repeating? + + +CHORUS OF WOMEN + + With spices and precious + Balm, we arrayed him; + Faithful and gracious, + We tenderly laid him: + Linen to bind him + Cleanlily wound we: + Ah! when we would find him, + Christ no more found we! + + +CHORUS OF ANGELS + + Christ is ascended! + Bliss hath invested him,-- + Woes that molested him, + Trials that tested him, + Gloriously ended! + + +FAUST + +Why, here in dust, entice me with your spell, +Ye gentle, powerful sounds of Heaven? +Peal rather there, where tender natures dwell. +Your messages I hear, but faith has not been given; +The dearest child of Faith is Miracle. +I venture not to soar to yonder regions +Whence the glad tidings hither float; +And yet, from childhood up familiar with the note, +To Life it now renews the old allegiance. +Once Heavenly Love sent down a burning kiss +Upon my brow, in Sabbath silence holy; +And, filled with mystic presage, chimed the church-bell slowly, +And prayer dissolved me in a fervent bliss. +A sweet, uncomprehended yearning +Drove forth my feet through woods and meadows free, +And while a thousand tears were burning, +I felt a world arise for me. +These chants, to youth and all its sports appealing, +Proclaimed the Spring's rejoicing holiday; +And Memory holds me now, with childish feeling, +Back from the last, the solemn way. +Sound on, ye hymns of Heaven, so sweet and mild! +My tears gush forth: the Earth takes back her child! + + +CHORUS OF DISCIPLES + + Has He, victoriously, + Burst from the vaulted + Grave, and all-gloriously + Now sits exalted? + Is He, in glow of birth, + Rapture creative near? + Ah! to the woe of earth + Still are we native here. + We, his aspiring + Followers, Him we miss; + Weeping, desiring, + Master, Thy bliss! + +CHORUS OF ANGELS + + Christ is arisen, + Out of Corruption's womb: + Burst ye the prison, + Break from your gloom! + Praising and pleading him, + Lovingly needing him, + Brotherly feeding him, + Preaching and speeding him, + Blessing, succeeding Him, + Thus is the Master near,-- + Thus is He here! +[Illustration] + + + + +II + +BEFORE THE CITY-GATE + +(_Pedestrians of all kinds come forth_.) + + +SEVERAL APPRENTICES + +Why do you go that way? + + +OTHERS + +We're for the Hunters' lodge, to-day. + + +THE FIRST + +We'll saunter to the Mill, in yonder hollow. + + +AN APPRENTICE + +Go to the River Tavern, I should say. + + +SECOND APPRENTICE + +But then, it's not a pleasant way. + + +THE OTHERS + +And what will _you_? + +A THIRD + + As goes the crowd, I follow. + + +A FOURTH + +Come up to Burgdorf? There you'll find good cheer, +The finest lasses and the best of beer, +And jolly rows and squabbles, trust me! + + +A FIFTH + +You swaggering fellow, is your hide +A third time itching to be tried? +I won't go there, your jolly rows disgust me! + + +SERVANT-GIRL + +No,--no! I'll turn and go to town again. + + +ANOTHER + +We'll surely find him by those poplars yonder. + + +THE FIRST + +That's no great luck for me, 'tis plain. +You'll have him, when and where you wander: +His partner in the dance you'll be,-- +But what is all your fun to me? + + +THE OTHER + +He's surely not alone to-day: +He'll be with Curly-head, I heard him say. + + +A STUDENT + +Deuce! how they step, the buxom wenches! +Come, Brother! we must see them to the benches. +A strong, old beer, a pipe that stings and bites, +A girl in Sunday clothes,--these three are my delights. + + +CITIZEN'S DAUGHTER + +Just see those handsome fellows, there! +It's really shameful, I declare;-- +To follow servant-girls, when they +Might have the most genteel society to-day! + + +SECOND STUDENT (_to the First_) + +Not quite so fast! Two others come behind,-- +Those, dressed so prettily and neatly. +My neighbor's one of them, I find, +A girl that takes my heart, completely. +They go their way with looks demure, +But they'll accept us, after all, I'm sure. + + +THE FIRST + +No, Brother! not for me their formal ways. +Quick! lest our game escape us in the press: +The hand that wields the broom on Saturdays +Will best, on Sundays, fondle and caress. + + +CITIZEN + +He suits me not at all, our new-made Burgomaster! +Since he's installed, his arrogance grows faster. +How has he helped the town, I say? +Things worsen,--what improvement names he? +Obedience, more than ever, claims he, +And more than ever we must pay! + + +BEGGAR (_sings_) + + Good gentlemen and lovely ladies, + So red of cheek and fine of dress, + Behold, how needful here your aid is, + And see and lighten my distress! + Let me not vainly sing my ditty; + He's only glad who gives away: + A holiday, that shows your pity, + Shall be for me a harvest-day! + + +ANOTHER CITIZEN + +On Sundays, holidays, there's naught I take delight in, +Like gossiping of war, and war's array, +When down in Turkey, far away, +The foreign people are a-fighting. +One at the window sits, with glass and friends, +And sees all sorts of ships go down the river gliding: +And blesses then, as home he wends +At night, our times of peace abiding. + + +THIRD CITIZEN + +Yes, Neighbor! that's my notion, too: +Why, let them break their heads, let loose their passions, +And mix things madly through and through, +So, here, we keep our good old fashions! + + +OLD WOMAN (_to the Citizen's Daughter_) + +Dear me, how fine! So handsome, and so young! +Who wouldn't lose his heart, that met you? +Don't be so proud! I'll hold my tongue, +And what you'd like I'll undertake to get you. + + +CITIZEN'S DAUGHTER + +Come, Agatha! I shun the witch's sight +Before folks, lest there be misgiving: +'Tis true, she showed me, on Saint Andrew's Night, +My future sweetheart, just as he were living. + + +THE OTHER + +She showed me mine, in crystal clear, +With several wild young blades, a soldier-lover: +I seek him everywhere, I pry and peer, +And yet, somehow, his face I can't discover. + +SOLDIERS + + Castles, with lofty + Ramparts and towers, + Maidens disdainful + In Beauty's array, + Both shall be ours! + Bold is the venture, + Splendid the pay! + Lads, let the trumpets + For us be suing,-- + Calling to pleasure, + Calling to ruin. + Stormy our life is; + Such is its boon! + Maidens and castles + Capitulate soon. + Bold is the venture, + Splendid the pay! + And the soldiers go marching, + Marching away! + + +FAUST AND WAGNER + + +FAUST + +Released from ice are brook and river +By the quickening glance of the gracious Spring; +The colors of hope to the valley cling, +And weak old Winter himself must shiver, +Withdrawn to the mountains, a crownless king: +Whence, ever retreating, he sends again +Impotent showers of sleet that darkle +In belts across the green o' the plain. +But the sun will permit no white to sparkle; +Everywhere form in development moveth; +He will brighten the world with the tints he loveth, +And, lacking blossoms, blue, yellow, and red, +He takes these gaudy people instead. +Turn thee about, and from this height +Back on the town direct thy sight. +Out of the hollow, gloomy gate, +The motley throngs come forth elate: +Each will the joy of the sunshine hoard, +To honor the Day of the Risen Lord! +They feel, themselves, their resurrection: +From the low, dark rooms, scarce habitable; +From the bonds of Work, from Trade's restriction; +From the pressing weight of roof and gable; +From the narrow, crushing streets and alleys; +From the churches' solemn and reverend night, +All come forth to the cheerful light. +How lively, see! the multitude sallies, +Scattering through gardens and fields remote, +While over the river, that broadly dallies, +Dances so many a festive boat; +And overladen, nigh to sinking, +The last full wherry takes the stream. +Yonder afar, from the hill-paths blinking, +Their clothes are colors that softly gleam. +I hear the noise of the village, even; +Here is the People's proper Heaven; +Here high and low contented see! +Here I am Man,--dare man to be! + + +WAGNER + +To stroll with you, Sir Doctor, flatters; +'Tis honor, profit, unto me. +But I, alone, would shun these shallow matters, +Since all that's coarse provokes my enmity. +This fiddling, shouting, ten-pin rolling +I hate,--these noises of the throng: +They rave, as Satan were their sports controlling. +And call it mirth, and call it song! + + +PEASANTS, UNDER THE LINDEN-TREE + (_Dance and Song_.) + + All for the dance the shepherd dressed, + In ribbons, wreath, and gayest vest + Himself with care arraying: + Around the linden lass and lad + Already footed it like mad: + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah--tarara-la! + The fiddle-bow was playing. + + He broke the ranks, no whit afraid, + And with his elbow punched a maid, + Who stood, the dance surveying: + The buxom wench, she turned and said: + "Now, you I call a stupid-head!" + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah--tarara-la! + "Be decent while you're staying!" + + Then round the circle went their flight, + They danced to left, they danced to right: + Their kirtles all were playing. + They first grew red, and then grew warm, + And rested, panting, arm in arm,-- + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah--tarara-la! + And hips and elbows straying. + + Now, don't be so familiar here! + How many a one has fooled his dear, + Waylaying and betraying! + + And yet, he coaxed her soon aside, + And round the linden sounded wide. + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah--tarara-la! + And the fiddle-bow was playing. + +OLD PEASANT + +Sir Doctor, it is good of you, +That thus you condescend, to-day, +Among this crowd of merry folk, +A highly-learned man, to stray. +Then also take the finest can, +We fill with fresh wine, for your sake: +I offer it, and humbly wish +That not alone your thirst is slake,-- +That, as the drops below its brink, +So many days of life you drink! + + +FAUST + +I take the cup you kindly reach, +With thanks and health to all and each. + +(_The People gather in a circle about him_.) + + +OLD PEASANT + +In truth, 'tis well and fitly timed, +That now our day of joy you share, +Who heretofore, in evil days, +Gave us so much of helping care. +Still many a man stands living here, +Saved by your father's skillful hand, +That snatched him from the fever's rage +And stayed the plague in all the land. +Then also you, though but a youth, +Went into every house of pain: +Many the corpses carried forth, +But you in health came out again. + +FAUST + +No test or trial you evaded: +A Helping God the helper aided. + +ALL + +Health to the man, so skilled and tried. +That for our help he long may abide! + +FAUST + +To Him above bow down, my friends, +Who teaches help, and succor sends! + +(_He goes on with_ WAGNER.) + +WAGNER + +With what a feeling, thou great man, must thou +Receive the people's honest veneration! +How lucky he, whose gifts his station +With such advantages endow! +Thou'rt shown to all the younger generation: +Each asks, and presses near to gaze; +The fiddle stops, the dance delays. +Thou goest, they stand in rows to see, +And all the caps are lifted high; +A little more, and they would bend the knee +As if the Holy Host came by. + +FAUST + +A few more steps ascend, as far as yonder stone!-- +Here from our wandering will we rest contented. +Here, lost in thought, I've lingered oft alone, +When foolish fasts and prayers my life tormented. +Here, rich in hope and firm in faith, +With tears, wrung hands and sighs, I've striven, +The end of that far-spreading death +Entreating from the Lord of Heaven! +Now like contempt the crowd's applauses seem: +Couldst thou but read, within mine inmost spirit, +How little now I deem, +That sire or son such praises merit! +My father's was a sombre, brooding brain, +Which through the holy spheres of Nature groped and wandered, +And honestly, in his own fashion, pondered +With labor whimsical, and pain: +Who, in his dusky work-shop bending, +With proved adepts in company, +Made, from his recipes unending, +Opposing substances agree. +There was a Lion red, a wooer daring, +Within the Lily's tepid bath espoused, +And both, tormented then by flame unsparing, +By turns in either bridal chamber housed. +If then appeared, with colors splendid, +The young Queen in her crystal shell, +This was the medicine--the patients' woes soon ended, +And none demanded: who got well? +Thus we, our hellish boluses compounding, +Among these vales and hills surrounding, +Worse than the pestilence, have passed. +Thousands were done to death from poison of my giving; +And I must hear, by all the living, +The shameless murderers praised at last! + +WAGNER + +Why, therefore, yield to such depression? +A good man does his honest share +In exercising, with the strictest care, +The art bequeathed to his possession! +Dost thou thy father honor, as a youth? +Then may his teaching cheerfully impel thee: +Dost thou, as man, increase the stores of truth? +Then may thine own son afterwards excel thee. + +FAUST + +O happy he, who still renews +The hope, from Error's deeps to rise forever! +That which one does not know, one needs to use; +And what one knows, one uses never. +But let us not, by such despondence, so +The fortune of this hour embitter! +Mark how, beneath the evening sunlight's glow, +The green-embosomed houses glitter! +The glow retreats, done is the day of toil; +It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring; +Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil, +Upon its track to follow, follow soaring! +Then would I see eternal Evening gild +The silent world beneath me glowing, +On fire each mountain-peak, with peace each valley filled, +The silver brook to golden rivers flowing. +The mountain-chain, with all its gorges deep, +Would then no more impede my godlike motion; +And now before mine eyes expands the ocean +With all its bays, in shining sleep! +Yet, finally, the weary god is sinking; +The new-born impulse fires my mind,-- +I hasten on, his beams eternal drinking, +The Day before me and the Night behind, +Above me heaven unfurled, the floor of waves beneath me,-- +A glorious dream! though now the glories fade. +Alas! the wings that lift the mind no aid +Of wings to lift the body can bequeath me. +Yet in each soul is born the pleasure +Of yearning onward, upward and away, +When o'er our heads, lost in the vaulted azure, +The lark sends down his flickering lay,-- +When over crags and piny highlands +The poising eagle slowly soars, +And over plains and lakes and islands +The crane sails by to other shores. + +WAGNER + +I've had, myself, at times, some odd caprices, +But never yet such impulse felt, as this is. +One soon fatigues, on woods and fields to look, +Nor would I beg the bird his wing to spare us: +How otherwise the mental raptures bear us +From page to page, from book to book! +Then winter nights take loveliness untold, +As warmer life in every limb had crowned you; +And when your hands unroll some parchment rare and old, +All Heaven descends, and opens bright around you! + +FAUST + +One impulse art thou conscious of, at best; +O, never seek to know the other! +Two souls, alas! reside within my breast, +And each withdraws from, and repels, its brother. +One with tenacious organs holds in love +And clinging lust the world in its embraces; +The other strongly sweeps, this dust above, +Into the high ancestral spaces. +If there be airy spirits near, +'Twixt Heaven and Earth on potent errands fleeing, +Let them drop down the golden atmosphere, +And bear me forth to new and varied being! +Yea, if a magic mantle once were mine, +To waft me o'er the world at pleasure, +I would not for the costliest stores of treasure-- +Not for a monarch's robe--the gift resign. + +WAGNER + +Invoke not thus the well-known throng, +Which through the firmament diffused is faring, +And danger thousand-fold, our race to wrong. +In every quarter is preparing. +Swift from the North the spirit-fangs so sharp +Sweep down, and with their barbd points assail you; +Then from the East they come, to dry and warp +Your lungs, till breath and being fail you: +If from the Desert sendeth them the South, +With fire on fire your throbbing forehead crowning, +The West leads on a host, to cure the drouth +Only when meadow, field, and you are drowning. +They gladly hearken, prompt for injury,-- +Gladly obey, because they gladly cheat us; +From Heaven they represent themselves to be, +And lisp like angels, when with lies they meet us. +But, let us go! 'Tis gray and dusky all: +The air is cold, the vapors fall. +At night, one learns his house to prize:-- +Why stand you thus, with such astonished eyes? +What, in the twilight, can your mind so trouble? + +FAUST + +Seest thou the black dog coursing there, through corn and +stubble? + +WAGNER + +Long since: yet deemed him not important in the least. + +FAUST + +Inspect him close: for what tak'st thou the beast? + +WAGNER + +Why, for a poodle who has lost his master, +And scents about, his track to find. + +FAUST + +Seest thou the spiral circles, narrowing faster, +Which he, approaching, round us seems to wind? +A streaming trail of fire, if I see rightly, +Follows his path of mystery. + +WAGNER + +It may be that your eyes deceive you slightly; +Naught but a plain black poodle do I see. + +FAUST + +It seems to me that with enchanted cunning +He snares our feet, some future chain to bind. + +WAGNER + +I see him timidly, in doubt, around us running, +Since, in his master's stead, two strangers doth he find. + +FAUST + +The circle narrows: he is near! + +WAGNER + +A dog thou seest, and not a phantom, here! +Behold him stop--upon his belly crawl--His +tail set wagging: canine habits, all! + +FAUST + +Come, follow us! Come here, at least! + +WAGNER + +'Tis the absurdest, drollest beast. +Stand still, and you will see him wait; +Address him, and he gambols straight; +If something's lost, he'll quickly bring it,-- +Your cane, if in the stream you fling it. + +FAUST + +No doubt you're right: no trace of mind, I own, +Is in the beast: I see but drill, alone. + +WAGNER + +The dog, when he's well educated, +Is by the wisest tolerated. +Yes, he deserves your favor thoroughly,-- +The clever scholar of the students, he! + +(_They pass in the city-gate_.) + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +III + + +THE STUDY + +FAUST + +(_Entering, with the poodle_.) + + Behind me, field and meadow sleeping, + I leave in deep, prophetic night, + Within whose dread and holy keeping + The better soul awakes to light. + The wild desires no longer win us, + The deeds of passion cease to chain; + The love of Man revives within us, + The love of God revives again. + +Be still, thou poodle; make not such racket and riot! +Why at the threshold wilt snuffing be? +Behind the stove repose thee in quiet! +My softest cushion I give to thee. +As thou, up yonder, with running and leaping +Amused us hast, on the mountain's crest, + +So now I take thee into my keeping, +A welcome, but also a silent, guest. + + Ah, when, within our narrow chamber + The lamp with friendly lustre glows, + Flames in the breast each faded ember, + And in the heart, itself that knows. + Then Hope again lends sweet assistance, + And Reason then resumes her speech: + One yearns, the rivers of existence, + The very founts of Life, to reach. + +Snarl not, poodle! To the sound that rises, +The sacred tones that my soul embrace, +This bestial noise is out of place. +We are used to see, that Man despises +What he never comprehends, +And the Good and the Beautiful vilipends, +Finding them often hard to measure: +Will the dog, like man, snarl _his_ displeasure? + +But ah! I feel, though will thereto be stronger, +Contentment flows from out my breast no longer. +Why must the stream so soon run dry and fail us, +And burning thirst again assail us? +Therein I've borne so much probation! +And yet, this want may be supplied us; +We call the Supernatural to guide us; +We pine and thirst for Revelation, +Which nowhere worthier is, more nobly sent, +Than here, in our New Testament. +I feel impelled, its meaning to determine,-- +With honest purpose, once for all, +The hallowed Original +To change to my beloved German. + +(_He opens a volume, and commences_.) +'Tis written: "In the Beginning was the _Word_." +Here am I balked: who, now can help afford? +The _Word?_--impossible so high to rate it; +And otherwise must I translate it. +If by the Spirit I am truly taught. +Then thus: "In the Beginning was the _Thought_" +This first line let me weigh completely, +Lest my impatient pen proceed too fleetly. +Is it the _Thought_ which works, creates, indeed? +"In the Beginning was the _Power,"_ I read. +Yet, as I write, a warning is suggested, +That I the sense may not have fairly tested. +The Spirit aids me: now I see the light! +"In the Beginning was the _Act_," I write. + +If I must share my chamber with thee, +Poodle, stop that howling, prithee! +Cease to bark and bellow! +Such a noisy, disturbing fellow +I'll no longer suffer near me. +One of us, dost hear me! +Must leave, I fear me. +No longer guest-right I bestow; +The door is open, art free to go. +But what do I see in the creature? +Is that in the course of nature? +Is't actual fact? or Fancy's shows? +How long and broad my poodle grows! +He rises mightily: +A canine form that cannot be! +What a spectre I've harbored thus! +He resembles a hippopotamus, +With fiery eyes, teeth terrible to see: +O, now am I sure of thee! +For all of thy half-hellish brood +The Key of Solomon is good. + +SPIRITS (_in the corridor_) + + Some one, within, is caught! + Stay without, follow him not! + Like the fox in a snare, + Quakes the old hell-lynx there. + Take heed--look about! + Back and forth hover, + Under and over, + And he'll work himself out. + If your aid avail him, + Let it not fail him; + For he, without measure, + Has wrought for our pleasure. + +FAUST + +First, to encounter the beast, +The Words of the Four be addressed: + Salamander, shine glorious! + Wave, Undine, as bidden! + Sylph, be thou hidden! + Gnome, be laborious! + +Who knows not their sense +(These elements),-- +Their properties +And power not sees,-- +No mastery he inherits +Over the Spirits. + + Vanish in flaming ether, + Salamander! + Flow foamingly together, + Undine! + Shine in meteor-sheen, + Sylph! + Bring help to hearth and shelf. + Incubus! Incubus! + Step forward, and finish thus! + +Of the Four, no feature +Lurks in the creature. +Quiet he lies, and grins disdain: +Not yet, it seems, have I given him pain. +Now, to undisguise thee, +Hear me exorcise thee! +Art thou, my gay one, +Hell's fugitive stray-one? +The sign witness now, +Before which they bow, +The cohorts of Hell! + +With hair all bristling, it begins to swell. + + Base Being, hearest thou? + Knowest and fearest thou + The One, unoriginate, + Named inexpressibly, + Through all Heaven impermeate, + Pierced irredressibly! + +Behind the stove still banned, +See it, an elephant, expand! +It fills the space entire, +Mist-like melting, ever faster. +'Tis enough: ascend no higher,-- +Lay thyself at the feet of the Master! +Thou seest, not vain the threats I bring thee: +With holy fire I'll scorch and sting thee! +Wait not to know +The threefold dazzling glow! +Wait not to know +The strongest art within my hands! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_while the vapor is dissipating, steps forth from behind the +stove, in the costume of a Travelling Scholar_.) +Why such a noise? What are my lord's commands? + +FAUST + +This was the poodle's real core, +A travelling scholar, then? The _casus_ is diverting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The learned gentleman I bow before: +You've made me roundly sweat, that's certain! + +FAUST + +What is thy name? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A question small, it seems, +For one whose mind the Word so much despises; +Who, scorning all external gleams, +The depths of being only prizes. + +FAUST + +With all you gentlemen, the name's a test, +Whereby the nature usually is expressed. +Clearly the latter it implies +In names like Beelzebub, Destroyer, Father of Lies. +Who art thou, then? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Part of that Power, not understood, +Which always wills the Bad, and always works the Good. + +FAUST + +What hidden sense in this enigma lies? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I am the Spirit that Denies! +And justly so: for all things, from the Void +Called forth, deserve to be destroyed: +'Twere better, then, were naught created. +Thus, all which you as Sin have rated,-- +Destruction,--aught with Evil blent,-- +That is my proper element. + +FAUST + +Thou nam'st thyself a part, yet show'st complete to me? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The modest truth I speak to thee. +If Man, that microcosmic fool, can see +Himself a whole so frequently, +Part of the Part am I, once All, in primal Night,-- +Part of the Darkness which brought forth the Light, +The haughty Light, which now disputes the space, +And claims of Mother Night her ancient place. +And yet, the struggle fails; since Light, howe'er it weaves, +Still, fettered, unto bodies cleaves: +It flows from bodies, bodies beautifies; +By bodies is its course impeded; +And so, but little time is needed, +I hope, ere, as the bodies die, it dies! + +FAUST + +I see the plan thou art pursuing: +Thou canst not compass general ruin, +And hast on smaller scale begun. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And truly 'tis not much, when all is done. +That which to Naught is in resistance set,-- +The Something of this clumsy world,--has yet, +With all that I have undertaken, +Not been by me disturbed or shaken: +From earthquake, tempest, wave, volcano's brand, +Back into quiet settle sea and land! +And that damned stuff, the bestial, human brood,-- +What use, in having that to play with? +How many have I made away with! +And ever circulates a newer, fresher blood. +It makes me furious, such things beholding: +From Water, Earth, and Air unfolding, +A thousand germs break forth and grow, +In dry, and wet, and warm, and chilly; +And had I not the Flame reserved, why, really, +There's nothing special of my own to show! + +FAUST + +So, to the actively eternal +Creative force, in cold disdain +You now oppose the fist infernal, +Whose wicked clench is all in vain! +Some other labor seek thou rather, +Queer Son of Chaos, to begin! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Well, we'll consider: thou canst gather +My views, when next I venture in. +Might I, perhaps, depart at present? + +FAUST + +Why thou shouldst ask, I don't perceive. +Though our acquaintance is so recent, +For further visits thou hast leave. +The window's here, the door is yonder; +A chimney, also, you behold. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I must confess that forth I may not wander, +My steps by one slight obstacle controlled,-- +The wizard's-foot, that on your threshold made is. + +FAUST + +The pentagram prohibits thee? +Why, tell me now, thou Son of Hades, +If that prevents, how cam'st thou in to me? +Could such a spirit be so cheated? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Inspect the thing: the drawing's not completed. +The outer angle, you may see, +Is open left--the lines don't fit it. + +FAUST + +Well,--Chance, this time, has fairly hit it! +And thus, thou'rt prisoner to me? +It seems the business has succeeded. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The poodle naught remarked, as after thee he speeded; +But other aspects now obtain: +The Devil can't get out again. + +FAUST + +Try, then, the open window-pane! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +For Devils and for spectres this is law: +Where they have entered in, there also they withdraw. +The first is free to us; we're governed by the second. + +FAUST + +In Hell itself, then, laws are reckoned? +That's well! So might a compact be +Made with you gentlemen--and binding,--surely? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +All that is promised shall delight thee purely; +No skinflint bargain shalt thou see. +But this is not of swift conclusion; +We'll talk about the matter soon. +And now, I do entreat this boon-- +Leave to withdraw from my intrusion. + +FAUST + +One moment more I ask thee to remain, +Some pleasant news, at least, to tell me. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Release me, now! I soon shall come again; +Then thou, at will, mayst question and compel me. + +FAUST + +I have not snares around thee cast; +Thyself hast led thyself into the meshes. +Who traps the Devil, hold him fast! +Not soon a second time he'll catch a prey so precious. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +An't please thee, also I'm content to stay, +And serve thee in a social station; +But stipulating, that I may +With arts of mine afford thee recreation. + +FAUST + +Thereto I willingly agree, +If the diversion pleasant be. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My friend, thou'lt win, past all pretences, +More in this hour to soothe thy senses, +Than in the year's monotony. +That which the dainty spirits sing thee, +The lovely pictures they shall bring thee, +Are more than magic's empty show. +Thy scent will be to bliss invited; +Thy palate then with taste delighted, +Thy nerves of touch ecstatic glow! +All unprepared, the charm I spin: +We're here together, so begin! + +SPIRITS + + Vanish, ye darking + Arches above him! + Loveliest weather, + Born of blue ether, + Break from the sky! + O that the darkling + Clouds had departed! + Starlight is sparkling, + Tranquiller-hearted + Suns are on high. + Heaven's own children + In beauty bewildering, + Waveringly bending, + Pass as they hover; + Longing unending + Follows them over. + They, with their glowing + Garments, out-flowing, + Cover, in going, + Landscape and bower, + Where, in seclusion, + Lovers are plighted, + Lost in illusion. + Bower on bower! + Tendrils unblighted! + Lo! in a shower + Grapes that o'ercluster + Gush into must, or + Flow into rivers + Of foaming and flashing + Wine, that is dashing + Gems, as it boundeth + Down the high places, + And spreading, surroundeth + With crystalline spaces, + In happy embraces, + Blossoming forelands, + Emerald shore-lands! + And the winged races + Drink, and fly onward-- + Fly ever sunward + To the enticing + Islands, that flatter, + Dipping and rising + Light on the water! + Hark, the inspiring + Sound of their quiring! + See, the entrancing + Whirl of their dancing! + All in the air are + Freer and fairer. + Some of them scaling + Boldly the highlands, + Others are sailing, + Circling the islands; + Others are flying; + Life-ward all hieing,-- + All for the distant + Star of existent + Rapture and Love! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +He sleeps! Enough, ye fays! your airy number +Have sung him truly into slumber: +For this performance I your debtor prove.-- +Not yet art thou the man, to catch the Fiend and hold him!-- +With fairest images of dreams infold him, +Plunge him in seas of sweet untruth! +Yet, for the threshold's magic which controlled him, +The Devil needs a rat's quick tooth. +I use no lengthened invocation: +Here rustles one that soon will work my liberation. + +The lord of rats and eke of mice, +Of flies and bed-bugs, frogs and lice, +Summons thee hither to the door-sill, +To gnaw it where, with just a morsel +Of oil, he paints the spot for thee:-- +There com'st thou, hopping on to me! +To work, at once! The point which made me craven +Is forward, on the ledge, engraven. +Another bite makes free the door: +So, dream thy dreams, O Faust, until we meet once more! + +FAUST _(awaking)_ + +Am I again so foully cheated? +Remains there naught of lofty spirit-sway, +But that a dream the Devil counterfeited, +And that a poodle ran away? + +[Illustration] + + + + +IV + + +THE STUDY + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +A knock? Come in! Again my quiet broken? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +'Tis I! + +FAUST + + Come in! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Thrice must the words be spoken. + +FAUST + +Come in, then! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Thus thou pleasest me. +I hope we'll suit each other well; +For now, thy vapors to dispel, +I come, a squire of high degree, +In scarlet coat, with golden trimming, +A cloak in silken lustre swimming, +A tall cock's-feather in my hat, +A long, sharp sword for show or quarrel,-- +And I advise thee, brief and flat, +To don the self-same gay apparel, +That, from this den released, and free, +Life be at last revealed to thee! + +FAUST + +This life of earth, whatever my attire, +Would pain me in its wonted fashion. +Too old am I to play with passion; +Too young, to be without desire. +What from the world have I to gain? +Thou shalt abstain--renounce--refrain! +Such is the everlasting song +That in the ears of all men rings,-- +That unrelieved, our whole life long, +Each hour, in passing, hoarsely sings. +In very terror I at morn awake, +Upon the verge of bitter weeping, +To see the day of disappointment break, +To no one hope of mine--not one--its promise keeping:-- +That even each joy's presentiment +With wilful cavil would diminish, +With grinning masks of life prevent +My mind its fairest work to finish! +Then, too, when night descends, how anxiously +Upon my couch of sleep I lay me: +There, also, comes no rest to me, +But some wild dream is sent to fray me. +The God that in my breast is owned +Can deeply stir the inner sources; +The God, above my powers enthroned, +He cannot change external forces. +So, by the burden of my days oppressed, +Death is desired, and Life a thing unblest! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And yet is never Death a wholly welcome guest. + +FAUST + +O fortunate, for whom, when victory glances, +The bloody laurels on the brow he bindeth! +Whom, after rapid, maddening dances, +In clasping maiden-arms he findeth! +O would that I, before that spirit-power, +Ravished and rapt from life, had sunken! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And yet, by some one, in that nightly hour, +A certain liquid was not drunken. + +FAUST + +Eavesdropping, ha! thy pleasure seems to be. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Omniscient am I not; yet much is known to me. + +FAUST + +Though some familiar tone, retrieving +My thoughts from torment, led me on, +And sweet, clear echoes came, deceiving +A faith bequeathed from Childhood's dawn, +Yet now I curse whate'er entices +And snares the soul with visions vain; +With dazzling cheats and dear devices +Confines it in this cave of pain! +Cursed be, at once, the high ambition +Wherewith the mind itself deludes! +Cursed be the glare of apparition +That on the finer sense intrudes! +Cursed be the lying dream's impression +Of name, and fame, and laurelled brow! +Cursed, all that flatters as possession, +As wife and child, as knave and plow! +Cursed Mammon be, when he with treasures +To restless action spurs our fate! +Cursed when, for soft, indulgent leisures, +He lays for us the pillows straight! +Cursed be the vine's transcendent nectar,-- +The highest favor Love lets fall! +Cursed, also, Hope!--cursed Faith, the spectre! +And cursed be Patience most of all! + +CHORUS OF SPIRITS (_invisible_) + + Woe! woe! + Thou hast it destroyed, + The beautiful world, + With powerful fist: + In ruin 'tis hurled, + By the blow of a demigod shattered! + The scattered + Fragments into the Void we carry, + Deploring + The beauty perished beyond restoring. + Mightier + For the children of men, + Brightlier + Build it again, + In thine own bosom build it anew! + Bid the new career + Commence, + With clearer sense, + And the new songs of cheer + Be sung thereto! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +These are the small dependants +Who give me attendance. +Hear them, to deeds and passion +Counsel in shrewd old-fashion! +Into the world of strife, +Out of this lonely life +That of senses and sap has betrayed thee, +They would persuade thee. +This nursing of the pain forego thee, +That, like a vulture, feeds upon thy breast! +The worst society thou find'st will show thee +Thou art a man among the rest. +But 'tis not meant to thrust +Thee into the mob thou hatest! +I am not one of the greatest, +Yet, wilt thou to me entrust +Thy steps through life, I'll guide thee,-- +Will willingly walk beside thee,-- +Will serve thee at once and forever +With best endeavor, +And, if thou art satisfied, +Will as servant, slave, with thee abide. + +FAUST + +And what shall be my counter-service therefor? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The time is long: thou need'st not now insist. + +FAUST + +No--no! The Devil is an egotist, +And is not apt, without a why or wherefore, +"For God's sake," others to assist. +Speak thy conditions plain and clear! +With such a servant danger comes, I fear. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +_Here_, an unwearied slave, I'll wear thy tether, +And to thine every nod obedient be: +When _There_ again we come together, +Then shalt thou do the same for me. + +FAUST + +The _There_ my scruples naught increases. +When thou hast dashed this world to pieces, +The other, then, its place may fill. +Here, on this earth, my pleasures have their sources; +Yon sun beholds my sorrows in his courses; +And when from these my life itself divorces, +Let happen all that can or will! +I'll hear no more: 'tis vain to ponder +If there we cherish love or hate, +Or, in the spheres we dream of yonder, +A High and Low our souls await. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +In this sense, even, canst thou venture. +Come, bind thyself by prompt indenture, +And thou mine arts with joy shalt see: +What no man ever saw, I'll give to thee. + +FAUST + +Canst thou, poor Devil, give me whatsoever? +When was a human soul, in its supreme endeavor, +E'er understood by such as thou? +Yet, hast thou food which never satiates, now,-- +The restless, ruddy gold hast thou, +That runs, quicksilver-like, one's fingers through,-- +A game whose winnings no man ever knew,-- +A maid that, even from my breast, +Beckons my neighbor with her wanton glances, +And Honor's godlike zest, +The meteor that a moment dances,-- +Show me the fruits that, ere they're gathered, rot, +And trees that daily with new leafage clothe them! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Such a demand alarms me not: +Such treasures have I, and can show them. +But still the time may reach us, good my friend. +When peace we crave and more luxurious diet. + +FAUST + +When on an idler's bed I stretch myself in quiet. +There let, at once, my record end! +Canst thou with lying flattery rule me, +Until, self-pleased, myself I see,-- +Canst thou with rich enjoyment fool me, +Let that day be the last for me! +The bet I offer. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + Done! + +FAUST + And heartily! +When thus I hail the Moment flying: +"Ah, still delay--thou art so fair!" +Then bind me in thy bonds undying, +My final ruin then declare! +Then let the death-bell chime the token. +Then art thou from thy service free! +The clock may stop, the hand be broken, +Then Time be finished unto me! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Consider well: my memory good is rated. + +FAUST + +Thou hast a perfect right thereto. +My powers I have not rashly estimated: +A slave am I, whate'er I do-- +If thine, or whose? 'tis needless to debate it. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then at the Doctors'-banquet I, to-day, +Will as a servant wait behind thee. +But one thing more! Beyond all risk to bind thee, +Give me a line or two, I pray. + +FAUST + +Demand'st thou, Pedant, too, a document? +Hast never known a man, nor proved his word's intent? +Is't not enough, that what I speak to-day +Shall stand, with all my future days agreeing? +In all its tides sweeps not the world away, +And shall a promise bind my being? +Yet this delusion in our hearts we bear: +Who would himself therefrom deliver? +Blest he, whose bosom Truth makes pure and fair! +No sacrifice shall he repent of ever. +Nathless a parchment, writ and stamped with care, +A spectre is, which all to shun endeavor. +The word, alas! dies even in the pen, +And wax and leather keep the lordship then. +What wilt from me, Base Spirit, say?-- +Brass, marble, parchment, paper, clay? +The terms with graver, quill, or chisel, stated? +I freely leave the choice to thee. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why heat thyself, thus instantly, +With eloquence exaggerated? +Each leaf for such a pact is good; +And to subscribe thy name thou'lt take a drop of blood. + +FAUST + +If thou therewith art fully satisfied, +So let us by the farce abide. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Blood is a juice of rarest quality. + +FAUST + +Fear not that I this pact shall seek to sever? +The promise that I make to thee +Is just the sum of my endeavor. +I have myself inflated all too high; +My proper place is thy estate: +The Mighty Spirit deigns me no reply, +And Nature shuts on me her gate. +The thread of Thought at last is broken, +And knowledge brings disgust unspoken. +Let us the sensual deeps explore, +To quench the fervors of glowing passion! +Let every marvel take form and fashion +Through the impervious veil it wore! +Plunge we in Time's tumultuous dance, +In the rush and roll of Circumstance! +Then may delight and distress, +And worry and success, +Alternately follow, as best they can: +Restless activity proves the man! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +For you no bound, no term is set. +Whether you everywhere be trying, +Or snatch a rapid bliss in flying, +May it agree with you, what you get! +Only fall to, and show no timid balking. + +FAUST + +But thou hast heard, 'tis not of joy we're talking. +I take the wildering whirl, enjoyment's keenest pain, +Enamored hate, exhilarant disdain. +My bosom, of its thirst for knowledge sated, +Shall not, henceforth, from any pang be wrested, +And all of life for all mankind created +Shall be within mine inmost being tested: +The highest, lowest forms my soul shall borrow, +Shall heap upon itself their bliss and sorrow, +And thus, my own sole self to all their selves expanded, +I too, at last, shall with them all be stranded! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Believe me, who for many a thousand year +The same tough meat have chewed and tested, +That from the cradle to the bier +No man the ancient leaven has digested! +Trust one of us, this Whole supernal +Is made but for a God's delight! +_He_ dwells in splendor single and eternal, +But _us_ he thrusts in darkness, out of sight, +And _you_ he dowers with Day and Night. + +FAUST + +Nay, but I will! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A good reply! +One only fear still needs repeating: +The art is long, the time is fleeting. +Then let thyself be taught, say I! +Go, league thyself with a poet, +Give the rein to his imagination, +Then wear the crown, and show it, +Of the qualities of his creation,-- +The courage of the lion's breed, +The wild stag's speed, +The Italian's fiery blood, +The North's firm fortitude! +Let him find for thee the secret tether +That binds the Noble and Mean together. +And teach thy pulses of youth and pleasure +To love by rule, and hate by measure! +I'd like, myself, such a one to see: +Sir Microcosm his name should be. + +FAUST + +What am I, then, if 'tis denied my part +The crown of all humanity to win me, +Whereto yearns every sense within me? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why, on the whole, thou'rt--what thou art. +Set wigs of million curls upon thy head, to raise thee, +Wear shoes an ell in height,--the truth betrays thee, +And thou remainest--what thou art. + +FAUST + +I feel, indeed, that I have made the treasure +Of human thought and knowledge mine, in vain; +And if I now sit down in restful leisure, +No fount of newer strength is in my brain: +I am no hair's-breadth more in height, +Nor nearer, to the Infinite, + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Good Sir, you see the facts precisely +As they are seen by each and all. +We must arrange them now, more wisely, +Before the joys of life shall pall. +Why, Zounds! Both hands and feet are, truly-- +And head and virile forces--thine: +Yet all that I indulge in newly, +Is't thence less wholly mine? +If I've six stallions in my stall, +Are not their forces also lent me? +I speed along, completest man of all, +As though my legs were four-and-twenty. +Take hold, then! let reflection rest, +And plunge into the world with zest! +I say to thee, a speculative wight +Is like a beast on moorlands lean, +That round and round some fiend misleads to evil plight, +While all about lie pastures fresh and green. + +FAUST + +Then how shall we begin? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We'll try a wider sphere. +What place of martyrdom is here! +Is't life, I ask, is't even prudence, +To bore thyself and bore the students? +Let Neighbor Paunch to that attend! +Why plague thyself with threshing straw forever? +The best thou learnest, in the end +Thou dar'st not tell the youngsters--never! +I hear one's footsteps, hither steering. + +FAUST +To see him now I have no heart. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +So long the poor boy waits a hearing, +He must not unconsoled depart. +Thy cap and mantle straightway lend me! +I'll play the comedy with art. + +(_He disguises himself_.) + +My wits, be certain, will befriend me. +But fifteen minutes' time is all I need; +For our fine trip, meanwhile, prepare thyself with speed! + +[_Exit_ FAUST. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_In_ FAUST'S _long mantle_.) + +Reason and Knowledge only thou despise, +The highest strength in man that lies! +Let but the Lying Spirit bind thee +With magic works and shows that blind thee, +And I shall have thee fast and sure!-- +Fate such a bold, untrammelled spirit gave him, +As forwards, onwards, ever must endure; +Whose over-hasty impulse drave him +Past earthly joys he might secure. +Dragged through the wildest life, will I enslave him, +Through flat and stale indifference; +With struggling, chilling, checking, so deprave him +That, to his hot, insatiate sense, +The dream of drink shall mock, but never lave him: +Refreshment shall his lips in vain implore-- +Had he not made himself the Devil's, naught could save +him, +Still were he lost forevermore! + +(_A_ STUDENT _enters_.) + +STUDENT + +A short time, only, am I here, +And come, devoted and sincere, +To greet and know the man of fame, +Whom men to me with reverence name. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Your courtesy doth flatter me: +You see a man, as others be. +Have you, perchance, elsewhere begun? + +STUDENT + +Receive me now, I pray, as one +Who comes to you with courage good, +Somewhat of cash, and healthy blood: +My mother was hardly willing to let me; +But knowledge worth having I fain would get me. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then you have reached the right place now. + +STUDENT + +I'd like to leave it, I must avow; +I find these walls, these vaulted spaces +Are anything but pleasant places. +Tis all so cramped and close and mean; +One sees no tree, no glimpse of green, +And when the lecture-halls receive me, +Seeing, hearing, and thinking leave me. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +All that depends on habitude. +So from its mother's breasts a child +At first, reluctant, takes its food, +But soon to seek them is beguiled. +Thus, at the breasts of Wisdom clinging, +Thou'lt find each day a greater rapture bringing. + +STUDENT + +I'll hang thereon with joy, and freely drain them; +But tell me, pray, the proper means to gain them. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Explain, before you further speak, +The special faculty you seek. + +STUDENT + +I crave the highest erudition; +And fain would make my acquisition +All that there is in Earth and Heaven, +In Nature and in Science too. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Here is the genuine path for you; +Yet strict attention must be given. + +STUDENT + +Body and soul thereon I'll wreak; +Yet, truly, I've some inclination +On summer holidays to seek +A little freedom and recreation. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Use well your time! It flies so swiftly from us; +But time through order may be won, I promise. +So, Friend (my views to briefly sum), +First, the _collegium logicum_. +There will your mind be drilled and braced, +As if in Spanish boots 'twere laced, +And thus, to graver paces brought, +'Twill plod along the path of thought, +Instead of shooting here and there, +A will-o'-the-wisp in murky air. +Days will be spent to bid you know, +What once you did at a single blow, +Like eating and drinking, free and strong,-- +That one, two, three! thereto belong. +Truly the fabric of mental fleece +Resembles a weaver's masterpiece, +Where a thousand threads one treadle throws, +Where fly the shuttles hither and thither. +Unseen the threads are knit together. +And an infinite combination grows. +Then, the philosopher steps in +And shows, no otherwise it could have been: +The first was so, the second so, +Therefore the third and fourth are so; +Were not the first and second, then +The third and fourth had never been. +The scholars are everywhere believers, +But never succeed in being weavers. +He who would study organic existence, +First drives out the soul with rigid persistence; +Then the parts in his hand he may hold and class, +But the spiritual link is lost, alas! +_Encheiresin natures_, this Chemistry names, +Nor knows how herself she banters and blames! + +STUDENT + +I cannot understand you quite. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Your mind will shortly be set aright, +When you have learned, all things reducing, +To classify them for your using. + +STUDENT + +I feel as stupid, from all you've said, +As if a mill-wheel whirled in my head! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And after--first and foremost duty--Of +Metaphysics learn the use and beauty! +See that you most profoundly gain +What does not suit the human brain! +A splendid word to serve, you'll find +For what goes in--or won't go in--your mind. +But first, at least this half a year, +To order rigidly adhere; +Five hours a day, you understand, +And when the clock strikes, be on hand! +Prepare beforehand for your part +With paragraphs all got by heart, +So you can better watch, and look +That naught is said but what is in the book: +Yet in thy writing as unwearied be, +As did the Holy Ghost dictate to thee! + +STUDENT + +No need to tell me twice to do it! +I think, how useful 'tis to write; +For what one has, in black and white, +One carries home and then goes through it. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yet choose thyself a faculty! + +STUDENT + +I cannot reconcile myself to Jurisprudence. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Nor can I therefore greatly blame you students: +I know what science this has come to be. +All rights and laws are still transmitted +Like an eternal sickness of the race,-- +From generation unto generation fitted, +And shifted round from place to place. +Reason becomes a sham, Beneficence a worry: +Thou art a grandchild, therefore woe to thee! +The right born with us, ours in verity, +This to consider, there's, alas! no hurry. + +STUDENT + +My own disgust is strengthened by your speech: +O lucky he, whom you shall teach! +I've almost for Theology decided. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I should not wish to see you here misguided: +For, as regards this science, let me hint +'Tis very hard to shun the false direction; +There's so much secret poison lurking in 't, +So like the medicine, it baffles your detection. +Hear, therefore, one alone, for that is best, in sooth, +And simply take your master's words for truth. +On _words_ let your attention centre! +Then through the safest gate you'll enter +The temple-halls of Certainty. + +STUDENT + +Yet in the word must some idea be. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Of course! But only shun too over-sharp a tension, +For just where fails the comprehension, +A word steps promptly in as deputy. +With words 'tis excellent disputing; +Systems to words 'tis easy suiting; +On words 'tis excellent believing; +No word can ever lose a jot from thieving. + +STUDENT + +Pardon! With many questions I detain you. +Yet must I trouble you again. +Of Medicine I still would fain +Hear one strong word that might explain you. +Three years is but a little space. +And, God! who can the field embrace? +If one some index could be shown, +'Twere easier groping forward, truly. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_aside_) + +I'm tired enough of this dry tone,-- +Must play the Devil again, and fully. + +(_Aloud_) + +To grasp the spirit of Medicine is easy: +Learn of the great and little world your fill, +To let it go at last, so please ye, +Just as God will! +In vain that through the realms of science you may drift; +Each one learns only--just what learn he can: +Yet he who grasps the Moment's gift, +He is the proper man. +Well-made you are, 'tis not to be denied, +The rest a bold address will win you; +If you but in yourself confide, +At once confide all others in you. +To lead the women, learn the special feeling! +Their everlasting aches and groans, +In thousand tones, +Have all one source, one mode of healing; +And if your acts are half discreet, +You'll always have them at your feet. +A title first must draw and interest them, +And show that yours all other arts exceeds; +Then, as a greeting, you are free to touch and test them, +While, thus to do, for years another pleads. +You press and count the pulse's dances, +And then, with burning sidelong glances, +You clasp the swelling hips, to see +If tightly laced her corsets be. + +STUDENT + +That's better, now! The How and Where, one sees. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My worthy friend, gray are all theories, +And green alone Life's golden tree. + +STUDENT + +I swear to you, 'tis like a dream to me. +Might I again presume, with trust unbounded, +To hear your wisdom thoroughly expounded? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Most willingly, to what extent I may. + +STUDENT + +I cannot really go away: +Allow me that my album first I reach you,-- +Grant me this favor, I beseech you! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Assuredly. + +(_He writes, and returns the book_.) + +STUDENT (_reads_) + +_Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum_. +(_Closes the book with reverence, and withdraws_) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Follow the ancient text, and the snake thou wast ordered to trample! +With all thy likeness to God, thou'lt yet be a sorry example! + +(FAUST _enters_.) + +FAUST + +Now, whither shall we go? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +As best it pleases thee. +The little world, and then the great, we'll see. +With what delight, what profit winning, +Shalt thou sponge through the term beginning! + +FAUST + +Yet with the flowing beard I wear, +Both ease and grace will fail me there. +The attempt, indeed, were a futile strife; +I never could learn the ways of life. +I feel so small before others, and thence +Should always find embarrassments. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My friend, thou soon shalt lose all such misgiving: +Be thou but self-possessed, thou hast the art of living! + +FAUST + +How shall we leave the house, and start? +Where hast thou servant, coach and horses? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We'll spread this cloak with proper art, +Then through the air direct our courses. +But only, on so bold a flight, +Be sure to have thy luggage light. +A little burning air, which I shall soon prepare us, +Above the earth will nimbly bear us, +And, if we're light, we'll travel swift and clear: +I gratulate thee on thy new career! + +[Illustration] + + + + +V + + +AUERBACH'S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG +CAROUSAL OF JOLLY COMPANIONS + +FROSCH + +Is no one laughing? no one drinking? +I'll teach you how to grin, I'm thinking. +To-day you're like wet straw, so tame; +And usually you're all aflame. + +BRANDER + +Now that's your fault; from you we nothing see, +No beastliness and no stupidity. + +FROSCH + +(_Pours a glass of wine over_ BRANDER'S _head_.) +There's both together! + +BRANDER + +Twice a swine! + +FROSCH + +You wanted them: I've given you mine. + +SIEBEL + +Turn out who quarrels--out the door! +With open throat sing chorus, drink and roar! +Up! holla! ho! + +ALTMAYER + +Woe's me, the fearful bellow! +Bring cotton, quick! He's split my ears, that fellow. + +SIEBEL + +When the vault echoes to the song, +One first perceives the bass is deep and strong. + +FROSCH + +Well said! and out with him that takes the least offence! +_Ah, tara, lara da_! + +ALTMAYER + +_Ah, tara, lara, da_! + +FROSCH + +The throats are tuned, commence! +(_Sings_.) +_The dear old holy Roman realm, +How does it hold together_? + +BRANDER + +A nasty song! Fie! a political song-- +A most offensive song! Thank God, each morning, therefore, +That you have not the Roman realm to care for! +At least, I hold it so much gain for me, +That I nor Chancellor nor Kaiser be. +Yet also we must have a ruling head, I hope, +And so we'll choose ourselves a Pope. +You know the quality that can +Decide the choice, and elevate the man. + +FROSCH (_sings_) + + _Soar up, soar up, Dame Nightingale! + Ten thousand times my sweetheart hail!_ + +SIEBEL + +No, greet my sweetheart not! I tell you, I'll resent it. + +FROSCH + +My sweetheart greet and kiss! I dare you to prevent it! + + (_Sings_.) + + _Draw the latch! the darkness makes: + Draw the latch! the lover wakes. + Shut the latch! the morning breaks_. + +SIEBEL + +Yes, sing away, sing on, and praise, and brag of her! +I'll wait my proper time for laughter: +Me by the nose she led, and now she'll lead you after. +Her paramour should be an ugly gnome, +Where four roads cross, in wanton play to meet her: +An old he-goat, from Blocksberg coming home, +Should his good-night in lustful gallop bleat her! +A fellow made of genuine flesh and blood +Is for the wench a deal too good. +Greet her? Not I: unless, when meeting, +To smash her windows be a greeting! + +BRANDER (_pounding on the table_) + +Attention! Hearken now to me! +Confess, Sirs, I know how to live. +Enamored persons here have we, +And I, as suits their quality, +Must something fresh for their advantage give. +Take heed! 'Tis of the latest cut, my strain, +And all strike in at each refrain! + + (_He sings_.) + + There was a rat in the cellar-nest, + Whom fat and butter made smoother: + He had a paunch beneath his vest + Like that of Doctor Luther. + The cook laid poison cunningly, + And then as sore oppressed was he + As if he had love in his bosom. + + CHORUS (_shouting_) + + As if he had love in his bosom! + + BRANDER + + He ran around, he ran about, + His thirst in puddles laving; + He gnawed and scratched the house throughout. + But nothing cured his raving. + He whirled and jumped, with torment mad, + And soon enough the poor beast had, + As if he had love in his bosom. + + CHORUS + + As if he had love in his bosom! + + BRANDER + + And driven at last, in open day, + He ran into the kitchen, + Fell on the hearth, and squirming lay, + In the last convulsion twitching. + Then laughed the murderess in her glee: + "Ha! ha! he's at his last gasp," said she, + "As if he had love in his bosom!" + +CHORUS + + As if he had love in his bosom! + +SIEBEL + +How the dull fools enjoy the matter! +To me it is a proper art +Poison for such poor rats to scatter. + +BRANDER + +Perhaps you'll warmly take their part? + +ALTMAYER + +The bald-pate pot-belly I have noted: +Misfortune tames him by degrees; +For in the rat by poison bloated +His own most natural form he sees. + +FAUST AND MEPHISTOPHELES + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Before all else, I bring thee hither +Where boon companions meet together, +To let thee see how smooth life runs away. +Here, for the folk, each day's a holiday: +With little wit, and ease to suit them, +They whirl in narrow, circling trails, +Like kittens playing with their tails? +And if no headache persecute them, +So long the host may credit give, +They merrily and careless live. + +BRANDER + +The fact is easy to unravel, +Their air's so odd, they've just returned from travel: +A single hour they've not been here. + +FROSCH + +You've verily hit the truth! Leipzig to me is dear: +Paris in miniature, how it refines its people! + +SIEBEL + +Who are the strangers, should you guess? + +FROSCH + +Let me alone! I'll set them first to drinking, +And then, as one a child's tooth draws, with cleverness, +I'll worm their secret out, I'm thinking. +They're of a noble house, that's very clear: +Haughty and discontented they appear. + +BRANDER + +They're mountebanks, upon a revel. + +ALTMAYER + +Perhaps. + +FROSCH + +Look out, I'll smoke them now! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Not if he had them by the neck, I vow, +Would e'er these people scent the Devil! + +FAUST +Fair greeting, gentlemen! + +SIEBEL + +Our thanks: we give the same. +(_Murmurs, inspecting_ MEPHISTOPHELES _from the side_.) +In one foot is the fellow lame? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Is it permitted that we share your leisure? +In place of cheering drink, which one seeks vainly here, +Your company shall give us pleasure. + +ALTMAYER + +A most fastidious person you appear. + + +FROSCH + +No doubt 'twas late when you from Rippach started? +And supping there with Hans occasioned your delay? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We passed, without a call, to-day. +At our last interview, before we parted +Much of his cousins did he speak, entreating +That we should give to each his kindly greeting. + +(_He bows to_ FROSCH.) + +ALTMAYER (_aside_) + +You have it now! he understands. + +SIEBEL + +A knave sharp-set! + +FROSCH + +Just wait awhile: I'll have him yet. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +If I am right, we heard the sound +Of well-trained voices, singing chorus; +And truly, song must here rebound +Superbly from the arches o'er us. + +FROSCH + +Are you, perhaps, a virtuoso? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O no! my wish is great, my power is only so-so. + +ALTMAYER + +Give us a song! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +If you desire, a number. + +SIEBEL + +So that it be a bran-new strain! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We've just retraced our way from. Spain, +The lovely land of wine, and song, and slumber. + +(_Sings_.) + +There was a king once reigning, +Who had a big black flea-- + +FROSCH + +Hear, hear! A flea! D'ye rightly take the jest? +I call a flea a tidy guest. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_sings_) + + There was a king once reigning, + Who had a big black flea, + And loved him past explaining, + As his own son were he. + He called his man of stitches; + The tailor came straightway: + Here, measure the lad for breeches. + And measure his coat, I say! + +BRANDER + +But mind, allow the tailor no caprices: +Enjoin upon him, as his head is dear, +To most exactly measure, sew and shear, +So that the breeches have no creases! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + In silk and velvet gleaming + He now was wholly drest-- + Had a coat with ribbons streaming, + A cross upon his breast. + He had the first of stations, + A minister's star and name; + And also all his relations + Great lords at court became. + + And the lords and ladies of honor + Were plagued, awake and in bed; + The queen she got them upon her, + The maids were bitten and bled. + And they did not dare to brush them, + Or scratch them, day or night: + We crack them and we crush them, + At once, whene'er they bite. + + CHORUS (_shouting_) + + We crack them and we crush them, + At once, whene'er they bite! + +FROSCH +Bravo! bravo! that was fine. + +SIEBEL + +Every flea may it so befall! + +BRANDER + +Point your fingers and nip them all! + +ALTMAYER + +Hurrah for Freedom! Hurrah for wine! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I fain would drink with you, my glass to Freedom clinking, +If 'twere a better wine that here I see you drinking. + +SIEBEL + +Don't let us hear that speech again! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Did I not fear the landlord might complain, +I'd treat these worthy guests, with pleasure, +To some from out our cellar's treasure. + +SIEBEL + +Just treat, and let the landlord me arraign! + +FROSCH + +And if the wine be good, our praises shall be ample. +But do not give too very small a sample; +For, if its quality I decide, +With a good mouthful I must be supplied. + +ALTMAYER (_aside_) + +They're from the Rhine! I guessed as much, before. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Bring me a gimlet here! + +BRANDER + +What shall therewith be done? +You've not the casks already at the door? + +ALTMAYER + +Yonder, within the landlord's box of tools, there's one! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_takes the gimlet_) + +(_To_ FROSCH.) + +Now, give me of your taste some intimation. + +FROSCH + +How do you mean? Have you so many kinds? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The choice is free: make up your minds. + +ALTMAYER (_to_ FROSCH) + +Aha! you lick your chops, from sheer anticipation. + +FROSCH + +Good! if I have the choice, so let the wine be Rhenish! +Our Fatherland can best the sparkling cup replenish. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_boring a hole in the edge of the table, at the place where_ +FROSCH _sits_) + +Get me a little wax, to make the stoppers, quick! + +ALTMAYER + +Ah! I perceive a juggler's trick. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ BRANDER) + +And you? + +BRANDER + +Champagne shall be my wine, +And let it sparkle fresh and fine! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_bores: in the meantime one has made the wax stoppers, and +plugged the holes with them_.) + +BRANDER + +What's foreign one can't always keep quite clear of, +For good things, oft, are not so near; +A German can't endure the French to see or hear of, +Yet drinks their wines with hearty cheer. + +SIEBEL + +(_as_ MEPHISTOPHELES _approaches his seat_) +For me, I grant, sour wine is out of place; +Fill up my glass with sweetest, will you? + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_boring_) + +Tokay shall flow at once, to fill you! + +ALTMAYER + +No--look me, Sirs, straight in the face! +I see you have your fun at our expense. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O no! with gentlemen of such pretence, +That were to venture far, indeed. +Speak out, and make your choice with speed! +With what a vintage can I serve you? + +ALTMAYER + +With any--only satisfy our need. + +(_After the holes have been bored and plugged_) + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_with singular gestures_) + + Grapes the vine-stem bears, + Horns the he-goat wears! + The grapes are juicy, the vines are wood, + The wooden table gives wine as good! + Into the depths of Nature peer,-- + Only believe there's a miracle here! + +Now draw the stoppers, and drink your fill! + +ALL + +(_as they draw out the stoppers, and the wine which has been +desired flows into the glass of each)_ + +O beautiful fountain, that flows at will! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But have a care that you nothing spill! + +(_They drink repeatedly_.) + +ALL (_sing_) + + As 'twere five hundred hogs, we feel + So cannibalic jolly! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +See, now, the race is happy--it is free! + +FAUST + +To leave them is my inclination. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Take notice, first! their bestiality +Will make a brilliant demonstration. + +SIEBEL + +(_drinks carelessly: the wine spills upon the earth, and turns to +flame_) + +Help! Fire! Help! Hell-fire is sent! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_charming away the flame)_ + +Be quiet, friendly element! + +(_To the revellers_) + +A bit of purgatory 'twas for this time, merely. + +SIEBEL + +What mean you? Wait!--you'll pay for't dearly! +You'll know us, to your detriment. + +FROSCH + +Don't try that game a second time upon us! + +ALTMAYER + +I think we'd better send him packing quietly. + +SIEBEL + +What, Sir! you dare to make so free, +And play your hocus-pocus on us! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Be still, old wine-tub. + +SIEBEL + +Broomstick, you! +You face it out, impertinent and heady? + +BRANDER + +Just wait! a shower of blows is ready. + +ALTMAYER + +(_draws a stopper out of the table: fire flies in his face_.) +I burn! I burn! + +SIEBEL + +'Tis magic! Strike-- +The knave is outlawed! Cut him as you like! +(_They draw their knives, and rush upon_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_with solemn gestures_) + + False word and form of air, + Change place, and sense ensnare! + Be here--and there! + +(_They stand amazed and look at each other_.) + +ALTMAYER + +Where am I? What a lovely land! + +FROSCH + +Vines? Can I trust my eyes? + +SIEBEL + +And purple grapes at hand! + +BRANDER + +Here, over this green arbor bending, +See what a vine! what grapes depending! + +(_He takes_ SIEBEL _by the nose: the others do the same reciprocally, +and raise their knives_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_as above_) + +Loose, Error, from their eyes the band, +And how the Devil jests, be now enlightened! + +(_He disappears with_ FAUST: _the revellers start and separate_.) + +SIEBEL + +What happened? + +ALTMAYER + +How? + +FROSCH + +Was that your nose I tightened? + +BRANDER (_to_ SIEBEL) + +And yours that still I have in hand? + +ALTMAYER + +It was a blow that went through every limb! +Give me a chair! I sink! my senses swim. + +FROSCH + +But what has happened, tell me now? + +SIEBEL + +Where is he? If I catch the scoundrel hiding, +He shall not leave alive, I vow. + +ALTMAYER + +I saw him with these eyes upon a wine-cask riding +Out of the cellar-door, just now. +Still in my feet the fright like lead is weighing. +(_He turns towards the table_.) +Why! If the fount of wine should still be playing? + +SIEBEL + +'Twas all deceit, and lying, false design! + +FROSCH + +And yet it seemed as I were drinking wine. + +BRANDER + +But with the grapes how was it, pray? + +ALTMAYER + +Shall one believe no miracles, just say! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +VI + + +WITCHES' KITCHEN + +(_Upon a low hearth stands a great caldron, under which a fire +is burning. Various figures appear in the vapors which +rise from the caldron. An ape sits beside it, skims it, and +watches lest it boil over. The he-ape, with the young +ones, sits near and warms himself. Ceiling and walls are +covered with the most fantastic witch-implements_.) + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +These crazy signs of witches' craft repel me! +I shall recover, dost thou tell me, +Through this insane, chaotic play? +From an old hag shall I demand assistance? +And will her foul mess take away +Full thirty years from my existence? +Woe's me, canst thou naught better find! +Another baffled hope must be lamented: +Has Nature, then, and has a noble mind +Not any potent balsam yet invented? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Once more, my friend, thou talkest sensibly. +There is, to make thee young, a simpler mode and apter; +But in another book 'tis writ for thee, +And is a most eccentric chapter. + +FAUST + +Yet will I know it. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Good! the method is revealed +Without or gold or magic or physician. +Betake thyself to yonder field, +There hoe and dig, as thy condition; +Restrain thyself, thy sense and will +Within a narrow sphere to flourish; +With unmixed food thy body nourish; +Live with the ox as ox, and think it not a theft +That thou manur'st the acre which thou reapest;-- +That, trust me, is the best mode left, +Whereby for eighty years thy youth thou keepest! + +FAUST + +I am not used to that; I cannot stoop to try it-- +To take the spade in hand, and ply it. +The narrow being suits me not at all. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then to thine aid the witch must call. + +FAUST + +Wherefore the hag, and her alone? +Canst thou thyself not brew the potion? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That were a charming sport, I own: +I'd build a thousand bridges meanwhile, I've a notion. +Not Art and Science serve, alone; +Patience must in the work be shown. +Long is the calm brain active in creation; +Time, only, strengthens the fine fermentation. +And all, belonging thereunto, +Is rare and strange, howe'er you take it: +The Devil taught the thing, 'tis true, +And yet the Devil cannot make it. +(_Perceiving the Animals_) +See, what a delicate race they be! +That is the maid! the man is he! +(_To the Animals_) +It seems the mistress has gone away? + +THE ANIMALS + +Carousing, to-day! +Off and about, +By the chimney out! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What time takes she for dissipating? + +THE ANIMALS + +While we to warm our paws are waiting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +How findest thou the tender creatures? + +FAUST + +Absurder than I ever yet did see. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why, just such talk as this, for me, +Is that which has the most attractive features! + +(_To the Animals_) + +But tell me now, ye cursed puppets, +Why do ye stir the porridge so? + +THE ANIMALS + +We're cooking watery soup for beggars. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then a great public you can show. + +THE HE-APE + +(_comes up and fawns on_ MEPHISTOPHELES) + + O cast thou the dice! + Make me rich in a trice, + Let me win in good season! + Things are badly controlled, + And had I but gold, + So had I my reason. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +How would the ape be sure his luck enhances. +Could he but try the lottery's chances! + +(_In the meantime the young apes have been playing with a +large ball, which they now roll forward_.) + +THE HE-APE + + The world's the ball: + Doth rise and fall, + And roll incessant: + Like glass doth ring, + A hollow thing,-- + How soon will't spring, + And drop, quiescent? + Here bright it gleams, + Here brighter seems: + I live at present! + Dear son, I say, + Keep thou away! + Thy doom is spoken! + 'Tis made of clay, + And will be broken. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What means the sieve? + +THE HE-APE (_taking it down_) + + Wert thou the thief, + I'd know him and shame him. + +(_He runs to the_ SHE-APE, _and lets her look through it_.) + + Look through the sieve! + Know'st thou the thief, + And darest not name him? + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_approaching the fire)_ + +And what's this pot? + +HE-APE AND SHE-APE + + The fool knows it not! + He knows not the pot, + He knows not the kettle! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Impertinent beast! + +THE HE-APE + +Take the brush here, at least, +And sit down on the settle! + +(_He invites_ MEPHISTOPHELES _to sit down_.) + +FAUST + +(_who during all this time has been standing before a mirror, +now approaching and now retreating from it_) + +What do I see? What heavenly form revealed +Shows through the glass from Magic's fair dominions! +O lend me, Love, the swiftest of thy pinions, +And bear me to her beauteous field! +Ah, if I leave this spot with fond designing, +If I attempt to venture near, +Dim, as through gathering mist, her charms appear!-- +A woman's form, in beauty shining! +Can woman, then, so lovely be? +And must I find her body, there reclining, +Of all the heavens the bright epitome? +Can Earth with such a thing be mated? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why, surely, if a God first plagues Himself six days, +Then, self-contented, _Bravo_! says, +Must something clever be created. +This time, thine eyes be satiate! +I'll yet detect thy sweetheart and ensnare her, +And blest is he, who has the lucky fate, +Some day, as bridegroom, home to bear her. + +(FAUST _gazes continually in the mirror_. MEPHISTOPHELES, +_stretching himself out on the settle, and playing with the +brush, continues to speak_.) + +So sit I, like the King upon his throne: +I hold the sceptre, here,--and lack the crown alone. + +THE ANIMALS + +(_who up to this time have been making all kinds of fantastic +movements together bring a crown to_ MEPHISTOPHELES +_with great noise_.) + + O be thou so good + With sweat and with blood + The crown to belime! + +(_They handle the crown awkwardly and break it into two +pieces, with which they spring around_.) + + 'Tis done, let it be! + We speak and we see, + We hear and we rhyme! + +FAUST (_before the mirror_) + +Woe's me! I fear to lose my wits. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_pointing to the Animals_) + +My own head, now, is really nigh to sinking. + +THE ANIMALS + + If lucky our hits, + And everything fits, + 'Tis thoughts, and we're thinking! + +FAUST (_as above_) + +My bosom burns with that sweet vision; +Let us, with speed, away from here! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_in the same attitude_) + +One must, at least, make this admission-- +They're poets, genuine and sincere. + +(_The caldron, which the_ SHE-APE _has up to this time neglected +to watch, begins to boil over: there ensues a great flame_, +_which blazes out the chimney. The_ WITCH _comes careering +down through the flame, with terrible cries_.) + +THE WITCH + + Ow! ow! ow! ow! + The damnd beast--the cursd sow! + To leave the kettle, and singe the Frau! + Accursd fere! + +(_Perceiving_ FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) + + What is that here? + Who are you here? + What want you thus? + Who sneaks to us? + The fire-pain + Burn bone and brain! + +(_She plunges the skimming-ladle into the caldron, and scatters +flames towards_ FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, _and the Animals. +The Animals whimper_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_reversing the brush, which he has been holding in his hand, +and striding among the jars and glasses_) + + In two! in two! + There lies the brew! + There lies the glass! + The joke will pass, + As time, foul ass! + To the singing of thy crew. + +(_As the_ WITCH _starts back, full of wrath and horror_) + +Ha! know'st thou me? Abomination, thou! +Know'st thou, at last, thy Lord and Master? +What hinders me from smiting now +Thee and thy monkey-sprites with fell disaster? +Hast for the scarlet coat no reverence? +Dost recognize no more the tall cock's-feather? +Have I concealed this countenance?-- +Must tell my name, old face of leather? + +THE WITCH + +O pardon, Sir, the rough salute! +Yet I perceive no cloven foot; +And both your ravens, where are _they_ now? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +This time, I'll let thee 'scape the debt; +For since we two together met, +'Tis verily full many a day now. +Culture, which smooth the whole world licks, +Also unto the Devil sticks. +The days of that old Northern phantom now are over: +Where canst thou horns and tail and claws discover? +And, as regards the foot, which I can't spare, in truth, +'Twould only make the people shun me; +Therefore I've worn, like many a spindly youth, +False calves these many years upon me. + +THE WITCH (_dancing_) + +Reason and sense forsake my brain, +Since I behold Squire Satan here again! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Woman, from such a name refrain! + +THE WITCH + +Why so? What has it done to thee? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +It's long been written in the Book of Fable; +Yet, therefore, no whit better men we see: +The Evil One has left, the evil ones are stable. +Sir Baron call me thou, then is the matter good; +A cavalier am I, like others in my bearing. +Thou hast no doubt about my noble blood: +See, here's the coat-of-arms that I am wearing! + +(_He makes an indecent gesture_.) + +THE WITCH (_laughs immoderately_) + +Ha! ha! That's just your way, I know: +A rogue you are, and you were always so. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +My friend, take proper heed, I pray! +To manage witches, this is just the way. + +THE WITCH + +Wherein, Sirs, can I be of use? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Give us a goblet of the well-known juice! +But, I must beg you, of the oldest brewage; +The years a double strength produce. + +THE WITCH + +With all my heart! Now, here's a bottle, +Wherefrom, sometimes, I wet my throttle, +Which, also, not the slightest, stinks; +And willingly a glass I'll fill him. + +(_Whispering_) + +Yet, if this man without due preparation drinks, +As well thou know'st, within an hour 'twill kill him. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +He is a friend of mine, with whom it will agree, +And he deserves thy kitchen's best potation: +Come, draw thy circle, speak thine adjuration, +And fill thy goblet full and free! + +THE WITCH + +(_with fantastic gestures draws a circle and places mysterious +articles therein; meanwhile the glasses begin to ring, the +caldron to sound, and make a musical accompaniment. +Finally she brings a great book, and stations in the circle +the Apes, who are obliged to serve as reading-desk, and to +hold the torches. She then beckons_ FAUST _to approach_.) + +FAUST (_to_ MEPHISTOPHELES) + +Now, what shall come of this? the creatures antic, +The crazy stuff, the gestures frantic,-- +All the repulsive cheats I view,-- +Are known to me, and hated, too. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O, nonsense! That's a thing for laughter; +Don't be so terribly severe! +She juggles you as doctor now, that, after, +The beverage may work the proper cheer. + +(_He persuades_ FAUST _to step into the circle_.) + +THE WITCH + +(_begins to declaim, with much emphasis, from the book_) + + See, thus it's done! + Make ten of one, + And two let be, + Make even three, + And rich thou 'It be. + Cast o'er the four! + From five and six + (The witch's tricks) + Make seven and eight, + 'Tis finished straight! + And nine is one, + And ten is none. + This is the witch's once-one's-one! + +FAUST + +She talks like one who raves in fever. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Thou'lt hear much more before we leave her. +'Tis all the same: the book I can repeat, +Such time I've squandered o'er the history: +A contradiction thus complete +Is always for the wise, no less than fools, a mystery. +The art is old and new, for verily +All ages have been taught the matter,-- +By Three and One, and One and Three, +Error instead of Truth to scatter. +They prate and teach, and no one interferes; +All from the fellowship of fools are shrinking. +Man usually believes, if only words he hears, +That also with them goes material for thinking! + +THE WITCH (_continues_) + + The lofty skill + Of Science, still + From all men deeply hidden! + Who takes no thought, + To him 'tis brought, + 'Tis given unsought, unbidden! + +FAUST + +What nonsense she declaims before us! +My head is nigh to split, I fear: +It seems to me as if I hear +A hundred thousand fools in chorus. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O Sibyl excellent, enough of adjuration! +But hither bring us thy potation, +And quickly fill the beaker to the brim! +This drink will bring my friend no injuries: +He is a man of manifold degrees, +And many draughts are known to him. + +(_The_ WITCH, _with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a +cup; as_ FAUST _sets it to his lips, a light flame arises_.) + +Down with it quickly! Drain it off! +'Twill warm thy heart with new desire: +Art with the Devil hand and glove, +And wilt thou be afraid of fire? + +(_The_ WITCH _breaks the circle_: FAUST _steps forth_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And now, away! Thou dar'st not rest. + +THE WITCH + +And much good may the liquor do thee! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to the_ WITCH) + +Thy wish be on Walpurgis Night expressed; +What boon I have, shall then be given unto thee. + +THE WITCH + +Here is a song, which, if you sometimes sing, +You'll find it of peculiar operation. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Come, walk at once! A rapid occupation +Must start the needful perspiration, +And through thy frame the liquor's potence fling. +The noble indolence I'll teach thee then to treasure, +And soon thou'lt be aware, with keenest thrills of pleasure, +How Cupid stirs and leaps, on light and restless wing. + +FAUST + +One rapid glance within the mirror give me, +How beautiful that woman-form! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No, no! The paragon of all, believe me, +Thou soon shalt see, alive and warm. + +_(Aside)_ + +Thou'lt find, this drink thy blood compelling, +Each woman beautiful as Helen! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +VII + + +STREET + +FAUST MARGARET _(passing by)_ + +FAUST + +Fair lady, let it not offend you, +That arm and escort I would lend you! + +MARGARET + +I'm neither lady, neither fair, +And home I can go without your care. + +[_She releases herself, and exit_. + +FAUST + +By Heaven, the girl is wondrous fair! +Of all I've seen, beyond compare; +So sweetly virtuous and pure, +And yet a little pert, be sure! +The lip so red, the cheek's clear dawn, +[Illustration:] +I'll not forget while the world rolls on! +How she cast down her timid eyes, +Deep in my heart imprinted lies: +How short and sharp of speech was she, +Why, 'twas a real ecstasy! + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_) + +FAUST + +Hear, of that girl I'd have possession! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Which, then? + +FAUST + +The one who just went by. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +She, there? She's coming from confession, +Of every sin absolved; for I, +Behind her chair, was listening nigh. +So innocent is she, indeed, +That to confess she had no need. +I have no power o'er souls so green. + +FAUST + +And yet, she's older than fourteen. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +How now! You're talking like Jack Rake, +Who every flower for himself would take, +And fancies there are no favors more, +Nor honors, save for him in store; +Yet always doesn't the thing succeed. + +FAUST + +Most Worthy Pedagogue, take heed! +Let not a word of moral law be spoken! +I claim, I tell thee, all my right; +And if that image of delight +Rest not within mine arms to-night, +At midnight is our compact broken. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But think, the chances of the case! +I need, at least, a fortnight's space, +To find an opportune occasion. + +FAUST + +Had I but seven hours for all, +I should not on the Devil call, +But win her by my own persuasion. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +You almost like a Frenchman prate; +Yet, pray, don't take it as annoyance! +Why, all at once, exhaust the joyance? +Your bliss is by no means so great +As if you'd use, to get control, +All sorts of tender rigmarole, +And knead and shape her to your thought, +As in Italian tales 'tis taught. + +FAUST + +Without that, I have appetite. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But now, leave jesting out of sight! +I tell you, once for all, that speed +With this fair girl will not succeed; +By storm she cannot captured be; +We must make use of strategy. + +FAUST + +Get me something the angel keeps! +Lead me thither where she sleeps! +Get me a kerchief from her breast,-- +A garter that her knee has pressed! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That you may see how much I'd fain +Further and satisfy your pain, +We will no longer lose a minute; +I'll find her room to-day, and take you in it. + +FAUST + +And shall I see--possess her? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No! +Unto a neighbor she must go, +And meanwhile thou, alone, mayst glow +With every hope of future pleasure, +Breathing her atmosphere in fullest measure. + +FAUST + +Can we go thither? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +'Tis too early yet. + +FAUST + +A gift for her I bid thee get! +[_Exit_. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Presents at once? That's good: he's certain to get at her! +Full many a pleasant place I know, +And treasures, buried long ago: +I must, perforce, look up the matter. _[Exit_. +[Illustration] + + + + +VIII + + +EVENING A SMALL, NEATLY KEPT CHAMBER + +MARGARET + +(_plaiting and binding up the braids of her hair_) + +I'd something give, could I but say +Who was that gentleman, to-day. +Surely a gallant man was he, +And of a noble family; +And much could I in his face behold,-- +And he wouldn't, else, have been so bold! + + [_Exit_ + +MEPHISTOPHELES FAUST + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Come in, but gently: follow me! + +FAUST (_after a moment's silence_) + +Leave me alone, I beg of thee! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_prying about_) + +Not every girl keeps things so neat. + +FAUST (_looking around_) + +O welcome, twilight soft and sweet, +That breathes throughout this hallowed shrine! +Sweet pain of love, bind thou with fetters fleet +The heart that on the dew of hope must pine! +How all around a sense impresses +Of quiet, order, and content! +This poverty what bounty blesses! +What bliss within this narrow den is pent! + +(_He throws himself into a leathern arm-chair near the bed_.) + +Receive me, thou, that in thine open arms +Departed joy and pain wert wont to gather! +How oft the children, with their ruddy charms, +Hung here, around this throne, where sat the father! +Perchance my love, amid the childish band, +Grateful for gifts the Holy Christmas gave her, +Here meekly kissed the grandsire's withered hand. +I feel, O maid! thy very soul +Of order and content around me whisper,-- +Which leads thee with its motherly control, +The cloth upon thy board bids smoothly thee unroll, +The sand beneath thy feet makes whiter, crisper. +O dearest hand, to thee 'tis given +To change this hut into a lower heaven! +And here! + +(_He lifts one of the bed-curtains_.) + +What sweetest thrill is in my blood! +Here could I spend whole hours, delaying: +Here Nature shaped, as if in sportive playing, +The angel blossom from the bud. +Here lay the child, with Life's warm essence +The tender bosom filled and fair, +And here was wrought, through holier, purer presence, +The form diviner beings wear! + +And I? What drew me here with power? +How deeply am I moved, this hour! +What seek I? Why so full my heart, and sore? +Miserable Faust! I know thee now no more. + +Is there a magic vapor here? +I came, with lust of instant pleasure, +And lie dissolved in dreams of love's sweet leisure! +Are we the sport of every changeful atmosphere? + +And if, this moment, came she in to me, +How would I for the fault atonement render! +How small the giant lout would be, +Prone at her feet, relaxed and tender! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Be quick! I see her there, returning. + +FAUST + +Go! go! I never will retreat. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Here is a casket, not unmeet, +Which elsewhere I have just been earning. +Here, set it in the press, with haste! +I swear, 'twill turn her head, to spy it: +Some baubles I therein had placed, +That you might win another by it. +True, child is child, and play is play. + +FAUST + +I know not, should I do it? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Ask you, pray? +Yourself, perhaps, would keep the bubble? +Then I suggest, 'twere fair and just +To spare the lovely day your lust, +And spare to me the further trouble. +You are not miserly, I trust? +I rub my hands, in expectation tender-- + +(_He places the casket in the press, and locks it again_.) + +Now quick, away! +The sweet young maiden to betray, +So that by wish and will you bend her; +And you look as though +To the lecture-hall you were forced to go,-- +As if stood before you, gray and loath, +Physics and Metaphysics both! +But away! [_Exeunt_. + +MARGARET (_with a lamp_) + +It is so close, so sultry, here! + +(_She opens the window_) + +And yet 'tis not so warm outside. +I feel, I know not why, such fear!-- +Would mother came!--where can she bide? +My body's chill and shuddering,-- +I'm but a silly, fearsome thing! + +(_She begins to sing while undressing_) + + There was a King in Thule, + Was faithful till the grave,-- + To whom his mistress, dying, + A golden goblet gave. + + Naught was to him more precious; + He drained it at every bout: + His eyes with tears ran over, + As oft as he drank thereout. + + When came his time of dying, + The towns in his land he told, + Naught else to his heir denying + Except the goblet of gold. + + He sat at the royal banquet + With his knights of high degree, + In the lofty hall of his fathers + In the Castle by the Sea. + + There stood the old carouser, + And drank the last life-glow; + And hurled the hallowed goblet + Into the tide below. + + He saw it plunging and filling, + And sinking deep in the sea: + Then fell his eyelids forever, + And never more drank he! + +(_She opens the press in order to arrange her clothes, and perceives +the casket of jewels_.) + +How comes that lovely casket here to me? +I locked the press, most certainly. +'Tis truly wonderful! What can within it be? +Perhaps 'twas brought by some one as a pawn, +And mother gave a loan thereon? +And here there hangs a key to fit: +I have a mind to open it. +What is that? God in Heaven! Whence came +Such things? Never beheld I aught so fair! +Rich ornaments, such as a noble dame +On highest holidays might wear! +How would the pearl-chain suit my hair? +Ah, who may all this splendor own? + +(_She adorns herself with the jewelry, and steps before the +mirror_.) + +Were but the ear-rings mine, alone! +One has at once another air. +What helps one's beauty, youthful blood? +One may possess them, well and good; +But none the more do others care. +They praise us half in pity, sure: +To gold still tends, +On gold depends +All, all! Alas, we poor! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +IX + + +PROMENADE + +(FAUST, _walking thoughtfully up and down. To him_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +By all love ever rejected! By hell-fire hot and unsparing! +I wish I knew something worse, that I might use it for +swearing! + +FAUST + +What ails thee? What is't gripes thee, elf? +A face like thine beheld I never. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I would myself unto the Devil deliver, +If I were not a Devil myself! + +FAUST + +Thy head is out of order, sadly: +It much becomes thee to be raving madly. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Just think, the pocket of a priest should get +The trinkets left for Margaret! +The mother saw them, and, instanter, +A secret dread began to haunt her. +Keen scent has she for tainted air; +She snuffs within her book of prayer, +And smells each article, to see +If sacred or profane it be; +So here she guessed, from every gem, +That not much blessing came with them. +"My child," she said, "ill-gotten good +Ensnares the soul, consumes the blood. +Before the Mother of God we'll lay it; +With heavenly manna she'll repay it!" +But Margaret thought, with sour grimace, +"A gift-horse is not out of place, +And, truly! godless cannot be +The one who brought such things to me." +A parson came, by the mother bidden: +He saw, at once, where the game was hidden, +And viewed it with a favor stealthy. +He spake: "That is the proper view,-- +Who overcometh, winneth too. +The Holy Church has a stomach healthy: +Hath eaten many a land as forfeit, +And never yet complained of surfeit: +The Church alone, beyond all question, +Has for ill-gotten goods the right digestion." + +FAUST + +A general practice is the same, +Which Jew and King may also claim. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then bagged the spangles, chains, and rings, +As if but toadstools were the things, +And thanked no less, and thanked no more +Than if a sack of nuts he bore,-- +Promised them fullest heavenly pay, +And deeply edified were they. + +FAUST + +And Margaret? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Sits unrestful still, +And knows not what she should, or will; +Thinks on the jewels, day and night, +But more on him who gave her such delight. + +FAUST + +The darling's sorrow gives me pain. +Get thou a set for her again! +The first was not a great display. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O yes, the gentleman finds it all child's-play! + +FAUST + +Fix and arrange it to my will; +And on her neighbor try thy skill! +Don't be a Devil stiff as paste, +But get fresh jewels to her taste! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, gracious Sir, in all obedience! + +[_Exit_ FAUST. + +Such an enamored fool in air would blow +Sun, moon, and all the starry legions, +To give his sweetheart a diverting show. + +[_Exit_. + +[Illustration] + + + + +X + + +THE NEIGHBOR'S HOUSE + +MARTHA (_solus_) + +God forgive my husband, yet he +Hasn't done his duty by me! +Off in the world he went straightway,-- +Left me lie in the straw where I lay. +And, truly, I did naught to fret him: +God knows I loved, and can't forget him! + +(_She weeps_.) + +Perhaps he's even dead! Ah, woe!-- +Had I a certificate to show! + +MARGARET (_comes_) + +Dame Martha! + +MARTHA + +Margaret! what's happened thee? + +MARGARET + +I scarce can stand, my knees are trembling! +I find a box, the first resembling, +Within my press! Of ebony,-- +And things, all splendid to behold, +And richer far than were the old. + +MARTHA + +You mustn't tell it to your mother! +'Twould go to the priest, as did the other. + +MARGARET + +Ah, look and see--just look and see! + +MARTHA (_adorning her_) + +O, what a blessed luck for thee! + +MARGARET + +But, ah! in the streets I dare not bear them, +Nor in the church be seen to wear them. + +MARTHA + +Yet thou canst often this way wander, +And secretly the jewels don, +Walk up and down an hour, before the mirror yonder,-- +We'll have our private joy thereon. +And then a chance will come, a holiday, +When, piece by piece, can one the things abroad display, +A chain at first, then other ornament: +Thy mother will not see, and stories we'll invent. + +MARGARET + +Whoever could have brought me things so precious? +That something's wrong, I feel suspicious. + +(_A knock_) + +Good Heaven! My mother can that have been? + +MARTHA (_peeping through the blind_) + +'Tis some strange gentleman.--Come in! + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_.) + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That I so boldly introduce me, +I beg you, ladies, to excuse me. + +(_Steps back reverently, on seeing_ MARGARET.) + +For Martha Schwerdtlein I'd inquire! + + +MARTHA + +I'm she: what does the gentleman desire? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_aside to her_) + +It is enough that you are she: +You've a visitor of high degree. +Pardon the freedom I have ta'en,-- +Will after noon return again. + + +MARTHA (_aloud_) + +Of all things in the world! Just hear-- +He takes thee for a lady, dear! + + +MARGARET + +I am a creature young and poor: +The gentleman's too kind, I'm sure. +The jewels don't belong to me. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Ah, not alone the jewelry! +The look, the manner, both betray-- +Rejoiced am I that I may stay! + + +MARTHA + +What is your business? I would fain-- + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I would I had a more cheerful strain! +Take not unkindly its repeating: +Your husband's dead, and sends a greeting. + + +MARTHA + +Is dead? Alas, that heart so true! +My husband dead! Let me die, too! + + +MARGARET + +Ah, dearest dame, let not your courage fail! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Hear me relate the mournful tale! + + +MARGARET + +Therefore I'd never love, believe me! +A loss like this to death would grieve me. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Joy follows woe, woe after joy comes flying. + + +MARTHA + +Relate his life's sad close to me! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +In Padua buried, he is lying +Beside the good Saint Antony, +Within a grave well consecrated, +For cool, eternal rest created. + + +MARTHA + +He gave you, further, no commission? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, one of weight, with many sighs: +Three hundred masses buy, to save him from perdition! +My hands are empty, otherwise. + + +MARTHA + +What! Not a pocket-piece? no jewelry? +What every journeyman within his wallet spares, +And as a token with him bears, +And rather starves or begs, than loses? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Madam, it is a grief to me; +Yet, on my word, his cash was put to proper uses. +Besides, his penitence was very sore, +And he lamented his ill fortune all the more. + + +MARGARET + +Alack, that men are so unfortunate! +Surely for his soul's sake full many a prayer I'll proffer. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +You well deserve a speedy marriage-offer: +You are so kind, compassionate. + + +MARGARET + +O, no! As yet, it would not do. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +If not a husband, then a beau for you! +It is the greatest heavenly blessing, +To have a dear thing for one's caressing. + + +MARGARET + +The country's custom is not so. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Custom, or not! It happens, though. + + +MARTHA + +Continue, pray! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + I stood beside his bed of dying. +'Twas something better than manure,-- +Half-rotten straw: and yet, he died a Christian, sure, +And found that heavier scores to his account were lying. +He cried: "I find my conduct wholly hateful! +To leave my wife, my trade, in manner so ungrateful! +Ah, the remembrance makes me die! +Would of my wrong to her I might be shriven!" + + +MARTHA (_weeping_) + +The dear, good man! Long since was he forgiven. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +"Yet she, God knows! was more to blame than I." + + +MARTHA + +He lied! What! On the brink of death he slandered? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +In the last throes his senses wandered, +If I such things but half can judge. +He said: "I had no time for play, for gaping freedom: +First children, and then work for bread to feed 'em,-- +For bread, in the widest sense, to drudge, +And could not even eat my share in peace and quiet!" + + +MARTHA + +Had he all love, all faith forgotten in his riot? +My work and worry, day and night? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Not so: the memory of it touched him quite. +Said he: "When I from Malta went away +My prayers for wife and little ones were zealous, +And such a luck from Heaven befell us, +We made a Turkish merchantman our prey, +That to the Soldan bore a mighty treasure. +Then I received, as was most fit, +Since bravery was paid in fullest measure, +My well-apportioned share of it." + + +MARTHA + +Say, how? Say, where? If buried, did he own it? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Who knows, now, whither the four winds have blown it? +A fair young damsel took him in her care, +As he in Naples wandered round, unfriended; +And she much love, much faith to him did bear, +So that he felt it till his days were ended. + + +MARTHA + +The villain! From his children thieving! +Even all the misery on him cast +Could not prevent his shameful way of living! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But see! He's dead therefrom, at last. +Were I in _your_ place, do not doubt me, +I'd mourn him decently a year, +And for another keep, meanwhile, my eyes about me. + + +MARTHA + +Ah, God! another one so dear +As was my first, this world will hardly give me. +There never was a sweeter fool than mine, +Only he loved to roam and leave me, +And foreign wenches and foreign wine, +And the damned throw of dice, indeed. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Well, well! That might have done, however, +If he had only been as clever, +And treated _your_ slips with as little heed. +I swear, with this condition, too, +I would, myself, change rings with you. + + +MARTHA + +The gentleman is pleased to jest. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I'll cut away, betimes, from here: +She'd take the Devil at his word, I fear. + +(_To_ MARGARET) + +How fares the heart within your breast? + + +MARGARET + +What means the gentleman? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_aside_) + + Sweet innocent, thou art! + +(_Aloud_.) + + Ladies, farewell! + + +MARGARET + +Farewell! + + +MARTHA + + A moment, ere we part! +I'd like to have a legal witness, +Where, how, and when he died, to certify his fitness. +Irregular ways I've always hated; +I want his death in the weekly paper stated. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, my good dame, a pair of witnesses +Always the truth establishes. +I have a friend of high condition, +Who'll also add his deposition. +I'll bring him here. + + +MARTHA + + Good Sir, pray do! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And this young lady will be present, too? +A gallant youth! has travelled far: +Ladies with him delighted are. + + +MARGARET + +Before him I should blush, ashamed. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Before no king that could be named! + + +MARTHA + +Behind the house, in my garden, then, +This eve we'll expect the gentlemen. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XI + + +A STREET + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +How is it? under way? and soon complete? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Ah, bravo! Do I find you burning? +Well, Margaret soon will still your yearning: +At Neighbor Martha's you'll this evening meet. +A fitter woman ne'er was made +To ply the pimp and gypsy trade! + +FAUST + +Tis well. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yet something is required from us. + +FAUST + +One service pays the other thus. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We've but to make a deposition valid +That now her husband's limbs, outstretched and pallid, +At Padua rest, in consecrated soil. + +FAUST + +Most wise! And first, of course, we'll make the journey + thither? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +_Sancta simplicitas_! no need of such a toil; +Depose, with knowledge or without it, either! + +FAUST + +If you've naught better, then, I'll tear your pretty plan! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Now, there you are! O holy man! +Is it the first time in your life you're driven +To bear false witness in a case? +Of God, the world and all that in it has a place, +Of Man, and all that moves the being of his race, +Have you not terms and definitions given +With brazen forehead, daring breast? +And, if you'll probe the thing profoundly, +Knew you so much--and you'll confess it roundly!-- +As here of Schwerdtlein's death and place of rest? + +FAUST + +Thou art, and thou remain'st, a sophist, liar. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, knew I not more deeply thy desire. +For wilt thou not, no lover fairer, +Poor Margaret flatter, and ensnare her, +And all thy soul's devotion swear her? + +FAUST + +And from my heart. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + 'Tis very fine! +Thine endless love, thy faith assuring, +The one almighty force enduring,-- +Will that, too, prompt this heart of thine? + +FAUST + +Hold! hold! It will!--If such my flame, +And for the sense and power intense +I seek, and cannot find, a name; +Then range with all my senses through creation, +Craving the speech of inspiration, +And call this ardor, so supernal, +Endless, eternal and eternal,-- +Is that a devilish lying game? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And yet I'm right! + +FAUST + + Mark this, I beg of thee! +And spare my lungs henceforth: whoever +Intends to have the right, if but his + tongue be clever, +Will have it, certainly. +But come: the further talking brings + disgust, +For thou art right, especially since I + must. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XII + + +GARDEN + +(MARGARET _on_ FAUST'S _arm_. MARTHA _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES +_walking up and down_.) + +MARGARET + +I feel, the gentleman allows for me, +Demeans himself, and shames me by it; +A traveller is so used to be +Kindly content with any diet. +I know too well that my poor gossip can +Ne'er entertain such an experienced man. + +FAUST + +A look from thee, a word, more entertains +Than all the lore of wisest brains. + +(_He kisses her hand_.) + +MARGARET + +Don't incommode yourself! How could you ever kiss it! +It is so ugly, rough to see! +What work I do,--how hard and steady is it! +Mother is much too close with me. + +[_They pass_. + +MARTHA + +And you, Sir, travel always, do you not? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Alas, that trade and duty us so harry! +With what a pang one leaves so many a spot, +And dares not even now and then to tarry! + +MARTHA + +In young, wild years it suits your ways, +This round and round the world in freedom sweeping; +But then come on the evil days, +And so, as bachelor, into his grave a-creeping, +None ever found a thing to praise. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I dread to see how such a fate advances. + +MARTHA + +Then, worthy Sir, improve betimes your chances! + +[_They pass_. + +MARGARET + +Yes, out of sight is out of mind! +Your courtesy an easy grace is; +But you have friends in other places, +And sensibler than I, you'll find. + +FAUST + +Trust me, dear heart! what men call sensible +Is oft mere vanity and narrowness. + +MARGARET + + How so? + +FAUST + +Ah, that simplicity and innocence ne'er know +Themselves, their holy value, and their spell! +That meekness, lowliness, the highest graces +Which Nature portions out so lovingly-- + +MARGARET + +So you but think a moment's space on me, +All times I'll have to think on you, all places! + +FAUST + +No doubt you're much alone? + +MARGARET + +Yes, for our household small has grown, +Yet must be cared for, you will own. +We have no maid: I do the knitting, sewing, sweeping, +The cooking, early work and late, in fact; +And mother, in her notions of housekeeping, +Is so exact! +Not that she needs so much to keep expenses down: +We, more than others, might take comfort, rather: +A nice estate was left us by my father, +A house, a little garden near the town. +But now my days have less of noise and hurry; +My brother is a soldier, +My little sister's dead. +True, with the child a troubled life I led, +Yet I would take again, and willing, all the worry, +So very dear was she. + +FAUST + +An angel, if like thee! + +MARGARET + +I brought it up, and it was fond of me. +Father had died before it saw the light, +And mother's case seemed hopeless quite, +So weak and miserable she lay; +And she recovered, then, so slowly, day by day. +She could not think, herself, of giving +The poor wee thing its natural living; +And so I nursed it all alone +With milk and water: 'twas my own. +Lulled in my lap with many a song, +It smiled, and tumbled, and grew strong. + +FAUST + +The purest bliss was surely then thy dower. + +MARGARET + +But surely, also, many a weary hour. +I kept the baby's cradle near +My bed at night: if 't even stirred, I'd guess it, +And waking, hear. +And I must nurse it, warm beside me press it, +And oft, to quiet it, my bed forsake, +And dandling back and forth the restless creature take, +Then at the wash-tub stand, at morning's break; +And then the marketing and kitchen-tending, +Day after day, the same thing, never-ending. +One's spirits, Sir, are thus not always good, +But then one learns to relish rest and food. + +[_They pass_. + +MARTHA + +Yes, the poor women are bad off, 'tis true: +A stubborn bachelor there's no converting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +It but depends upon the like of you, +And I should turn to better ways than flirting. + +MARTHA + +Speak plainly, Sir, have you no one detected? +Has not your heart been anywhere subjected? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The proverb says: One's own warm hearth +And a good wife, are gold and jewels worth. + +MARTHA + +I mean, have you not felt desire, though ne'er so slightly? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I've everywhere, in fact, been entertained politely. + +MARTHA + +I meant to say, were you not touched in earnest, ever? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +One should allow one's self to jest with ladies never. + + +MARTHA +Ah, you don't understand! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I'm sorry I'm so blind: +But I am sure--that you are very kind. + +[_They pass_. + +FAUST + +And me, thou angel! didst thou recognize, +As through the garden-gate I came? + +MARGARET + +Did you not see it? I cast down my eyes. + +FAUST + +And thou forgiv'st my freedom, and the blame +To my impertinence befitting, +As the Cathedral thou wert quitting? + +MARGARET + +I was confused, the like ne'er happened me; +No one could ever speak to my discredit. +Ah, thought I, in my conduct has he read it-- +Something immodest or unseemly free? +He seemed to have the sudden feeling +That with this wench 'twere very easy dealing. +I will confess, I knew not what appeal +On your behalf, here, in my bosom grew; +But I was angry with myself, to feel +That I could not be angrier with you. + + +FAUST + +Sweet darling! + +MARGARET + +Wait a while! + +(_She plucks a star-flower, and pulls off the leaves, one after +the other_.) + +FAUST + +Shall that a nosegay be? + +MARGARET + +No, it is just in play. + +FAUST + +How? + +MARGARET + +Go! you'll laugh at me. +(_She pulls off the leaves and murmurs_.) + +FAUST + +What murmurest thou? + +MARGARET (_half aloud_) + +He loves me--loves me not. + +FAUST + +Thou sweet, angelic soul! + +MARGARET (_continues_) + +Loves me--not--loves me--not-- +(_plucking the last leaf, she cries with frank delight_:) + +He loves me! + +FAUST + +Yes, child! and let this blossom-word +For thee be speech divine! He loves thee! +Ah, know'st thou what it means? He loves thee! + +(_He grasps both her hands_.) + +MARGARET + +I'm all a-tremble! + +FAUST + +O tremble not! but let this look, +Let this warm clasp of hands declare thee +What is unspeakable! +To yield one wholly, and to feel a rapture +In yielding, that must be eternal! +Eternal!--for the end would be despair. +No, no,--no ending! no ending! + +MARTHA (_coming forward_) + +The night is falling. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Ay! we must away. + +MARTHA + +I'd ask you, longer here to tarry, +But evil tongues in this town have full play. +It's as if nobody had nothing to fetch and carry, +Nor other labor, +But spying all the doings of one's neighbor: +And one becomes the talk, do whatsoe'er one may. +Where is our couple now? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Flown up the alley yonder, +The wilful summer-birds! + +MARTHA + + He seems of her still fonder. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And she of him. So runs the world away! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XIII + + +A GARDEN-ARBOR + +(MARGARET _comes in, conceals herself behind the door, puts her +finger to her lips, and peeps through the crack_.) + +MARGARET + +He comes! + +FAUST (_entering_) + + Ah, rogue! a tease thou art: +I have thee! +(_He kisses her_.) + +MARGARET + +(_clasping him, and returning the kiss_) + Dearest man! I love thee from my heart. + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _knocks_) + +FAUST (_stamping his foot_) + +Who's there? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A friend! + +FAUST + + A beast! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Tis time to separate. + +MARTHA (_coming_) + +Yes, Sir, 'tis late. + +FAUST + + May I not, then, upon you wait? + +MARGARET +My mother would--farewell! + +FAUST + + Ah, can I not remain? +Farewell! + +MARTHA + + Adieu! + +MARGARET + + And soon to meet again! + +[_Exeunt_ FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES. + +MARGARET + +Dear God! However is it, such +A man can think and know so much? +I stand ashamed and in amaze, +And answer "Yes" to all he says, +A poor, unknowing child! and he-- +I can't think what he finds in me! [_Exit_. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XIV + + +FOREST AND CAVERN + +FAUST (_solus_) + +Spirit sublime, thou gav'st me, gav'st me all +For which I prayed. Not unto me in vain +Hast thou thy countenance revealed in fire. +Thou gav'st me Nature as a kingdom grand, +With power to feel and to enjoy it. Thou +Not only cold, amazed acquaintance yield'st, +But grantest, that in her profoundest breast +I gaze, as in the bosom of a friend. +The ranks of living creatures thou dost lead +Before me, teaching me to know my brothers +In air and water and the silent wood. +And when the storm in forests roars and grinds, +The giant firs, in falling, neighbor boughs +And neighbor trunks with crushing weight bear down, +And falling, fill the hills with hollow thunders,-- +Then to the cave secure thou leadest me, +Then show'st me mine own self, and in my breast +The deep, mysterious miracles unfold. +And when the perfect moon before my gaze +Comes up with soothing light, around me float +From every precipice and thicket damp +The silvery phantoms of the ages past, +And temper the austere delight of thought. + +That nothing can be perfect unto Man +I now am conscious. With this ecstasy, +Which brings me near and nearer to the Gods, +Thou gav'st the comrade, whom I now no more +Can do without, though, cold and scornful, he +Demeans me to myself, and with a breath, +A word, transforms thy gifts to nothingness. +Within my breast he fans a lawless fire, +Unwearied, for that fair and lovely form: +Thus in desire I hasten to enjoyment, +And in enjoyment pine to feel desire. + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Have you not led this life quite long enough? +How can a further test delight you? +'Tis very well, that once one tries the stuff, +But something new must then requite you. + +FAUST + +Would there were other work for thee! +To plague my day auspicious thou returnest. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Well! I'll engage to let thee be: +Thou darest not tell me so in earnest. +The loss of thee were truly very slight,-- +comrade crazy, rude, repelling: + +[Illustration] + +One has one's hands full all the day and night; +If what one does, or leaves undone, is right, +From such a face as thine there is no telling. + +FAUST + +There is, again, thy proper tone!-- +That thou hast bored me, I must thankful be! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Poor Son of Earth, how couldst thou thus alone +Have led thy life, bereft of me? +I, for a time, at least, have worked thy cure; +Thy fancy's rickets plague thee not at all: +Had I not been, so hadst thou, sure, +Walked thyself off this earthly ball +Why here to caverns, rocky hollows slinking, +Sit'st thou, as 'twere an owl a-blinking? +Why suck'st, from sodden moss and dripping stone, +Toad-like, thy nourishment alone? +A fine way, this, thy time to fill! +The Doctor's in thy body still. + +FAUST + +What fresh and vital forces, canst thou guess, +Spring from my commerce with the wilderness? +But, if thou hadst the power of guessing, +Thou wouldst be devil enough to grudge my soul the blessing. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A blessing drawn from supernatural fountains! +In night and dew to lie upon the mountains; +All Heaven and Earth in rapture penetrating; +Thyself to Godhood haughtily inflating; +To grub with yearning force through Earth's dark marrow, +Compress the six days' work within thy bosom narrow,-- +To taste, I know not what, in haughty power, +Thine own ecstatic life on all things shower, +Thine earthly self behind thee cast, +And then the lofty instinct, thus-- + +(_With a gesture_:) + +at last,-- +daren't say how--to pluck the final flower! + +FAUST + +Shame on thee! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, thou findest that unpleasant! +Thou hast the moral right to cry me "shame!" at present. +One dares not that before chaste ears declare, +Which chaste hearts, notwithstanding, cannot spare; +And, once for all, I grudge thee not the pleasure +Of lying to thyself in moderate measure. +But such a course thou wilt not long endure; +Already art thou o'er-excited, +And, if it last, wilt soon be plighted +To madness and to horror, sure. +Enough of that! Thy love sits lonely yonder, +By all things saddened and oppressed; +Her thoughts and yearnings seek thee, tenderer, fonder,-- +mighty love is in her breast. +First came thy passion's flood and poured around her +As when from melted snow a streamlet overflows; +Thou hast therewith so filled and drowned her, +That now _thy_ stream all shallow shows. +Methinks, instead of in the forests lording, +The noble Sir should find it good, +The love of this young silly blood +At once to set about rewarding. +Her time is miserably long; +She haunts her window, watching clouds that stray +O'er the old city-wall, and far away. +"Were I a little bird!" so runs her song, +Day long, and half night long. +Now she is lively, mostly sad, +Now, wept beyond her tears; +Then again quiet she appears,--Always +love-mad. + +FAUST + +Serpent! Serpent! + +MEPHISTOPHELES _(aside)_ + +Ha! do I trap thee! + +FAUST + +Get thee away with thine offences, +Reprobate! Name not that fairest thing, +Nor the desire for her sweet body bring +Again before my half-distracted senses! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What wouldst thou, then? She thinks that thou art flown; +And half and half thou art, I own. + +FAUST + +Yet am I near, and love keeps watch and ward; +Though I were ne'er so far, it cannot falter: +I envy even the Body of the Lord +The touching of her lips, before the altar. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +'Tis very well! _My_ envy oft reposes +On your twin-pair, that feed among the roses. + +FAUST + +Away, thou pimp! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +You rail, and it is fun to me. +The God, who fashioned youth and maid, +Perceived the noblest purpose of His trade, +And also made their opportunity. +Go on! It is a woe profound! +'Tis for your sweetheart's room you're bound, +And not for death, indeed. + +FAUST + +What are, within her arms, the heavenly blisses? +Though I be glowing with her kisses, +Do I not always share her need? +I am the fugitive, all houseless roaming, +The monster without air or rest, +That like a cataract, down rocks and gorges foaming, +Leaps, maddened, into the abyss's breast! +And side-wards she, with young unwakened senses, +Within her cabin on the Alpine field +Her simple, homely life commences, +Her little world therein concealed. +And I, God's hate flung o'er me, +Had not enough, to thrust +The stubborn rocks before me +And strike them into dust! +She and her peace I yet must undermine: +Thou, Hell, hast claimed this sacrifice as thine! +Help, Devil! through the coming pangs to push me; +What must be, let it quickly be! +Let fall on me her fate, and also crush me,-- +One ruin whelm both her and me! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Again it seethes, again it glows! +Thou fool, go in and comfort her! +When such a head as thine no outlet knows, +It thinks the end must soon occur. +Hail him, who keeps a steadfast mind! +Thou, else, dost well the devil-nature wear: +Naught so insipid in the world I find +As is a devil in despair. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XV + + +MARGARET'S ROOM + +MARGARET + +(_at the spinning-wheel, alone_) + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + Save I have him near. + The grave is here; + The world is gall + And bitterness all. + + My poor weak head + Is racked and crazed; + My thought is lost, + My senses mazed. + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + To see him, him only, + At the pane I sit; + To meet him, him only, + The house I quit. + + His lofty gait, + His noble size, + The smile of his mouth, + The power of his eyes, + + And the magic flow + Of his talk, the bliss + In the clasp of his hand, + And, ah! his kiss! + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + My bosom yearns + For him alone; + Ah, dared I clasp him, + And hold, and own! + + And kiss his mouth, + To heart's desire, + And on his kisses + At last expire! + +[Illustration] + + + + +XVI + + +MARTHA'S GARDEN + +MARGARET FAUST + +MARGARET + +Promise me, Henry!-- + +FAUST + +What I can! + +MARGARET + +How is't with thy religion, pray? +Thou art a dear, good-hearted man, +And yet, I think, dost not incline that way. + +FAUST + +Leave that, my child! Thou know'st my love is tender; +For love, my blood and life would I surrender, +And as for Faith and Church, I grant to each his own. + +MARGARET + +That's not enough: we must believe thereon. + +FAUST + +Must we? + +MARGARET + +Would that I had some influence! +Then, too, thou honorest not the Holy Sacraments. + +FAUST + +I honor them. + +MARGARET + +Desiring no possession +'Tis long since thou hast been to mass or to confession. +Believest thou in God? + +FAUST + +My darling, who shall dare +"I believe in God!" to say? +Ask priest or sage the answer to declare, +And it will seem a mocking play, +A sarcasm on the asker. + +MARGARET + +Then thou believest not! + +FAUST + +Hear me not falsely, sweetest countenance! +Who dare express Him? +And who profess Him, +Saying: I believe in Him! +Who, feeling, seeing, +Deny His being, +Saying: I believe Him not! +The All-enfolding, +The All-upholding, +Folds and upholds he not +Thee, me, Himself? +Arches not there the sky above us? +Lies not beneath us, firm, the earth? +And rise not, on us shining, +Friendly, the everlasting stars? +Look I not, eye to eye, on thee, +And feel'st not, thronging +To head and heart, the force, +Still weaving its eternal secret, +Invisible, visible, round thy life? +Vast as it is, fill with that force thy heart, +And when thou in the feeling wholly blessed art, +Call it, then, what thou wilt,-- +Call it Bliss! Heart! Love! God! +I have no name to give it! +Feeling is all in all: +The Name is sound and smoke, +Obscuring Heaven's clear glow. + +MARGARET + +All that is fine and good, to hear it so: +Much the same way the preacher spoke, +Only with slightly different phrases. + +FAUST + +The same thing, in all places, +All hearts that beat beneath the heavenly day-- +Each in its language--say; +Then why not I, in mine, as well? + +MARGARET + +To hear it thus, it may seem passable; +And yet, some hitch in't there must be +For thou hast no Christianity. + +FAUST + +Dear love! + +MARGARET + + I've long been grieved to see +That thou art in such company. + +FAUST + +How so? + +MARGARET + + The man who with thee goes, thy mate, +Within my deepest, inmost soul I hate. +In all my life there's nothing +Has given my heart so keen a pang of loathing, +As his repulsive face has done. + +FAUST + +Nay, fear him not, my sweetest one! + +MARGARET + +I feel his presence like something ill. +I've else, for all, a kindly will, +But, much as my heart to see thee yearneth, +The secret horror of him returneth; +And I think the man a knave, as I live! +If I do him wrong, may God forgive! + +FAUST + +There must be such queer birds, however. + +MARGARET + +Live with the like of him, may I never! +When once inside the door comes he, +He looks around so sneeringly, +And half in wrath: +One sees that in nothing no interest he hath: +'Tis written on his very forehead +That love, to him, is a thing abhorrd. +I am so happy on thine arm, +So free, so yielding, and so warm, +And in his presence stifled seems my heart. + +FAUST + +Foreboding angel that thou art! + +MARGARET + +It overcomes me in such degree, +That wheresoe'er he meets us, even, +I feel as though I'd lost my love for thee. +When he is by, I could not pray to Heaven. +That burns within me like a flame, +And surely, Henry, 'tis with thee the same. + +FAUST + +There, now, is thine antipathy! + +MARGARET + +But I must go. + +FAUST + + Ah, shall there never be +A quiet hour, to see us fondly plighted, +With breast to breast, and soul to soul united? + +MARGARET + +Ah, if I only slept alone! +I'd draw the bolts to-night, for thy desire; +But mother's sleep so light has grown, +And if we were discovered by her, +'Twould be my death upon the spot! + +FAUST + +Thou angel, fear it not! +Here is a phial: in her drink +But three drops of it measure, +And deepest sleep will on her senses sink. + +MARGARET + +What would I not, to give thee pleasure? +It will not harm her, when one tries it? + +FAUST + +If 'twould, my love, would I advise it? + +MARGARET + +Ah, dearest man, if but thy face I see, +I know not what compels me to thy will: +So much have I already done for thee, +That scarcely more is left me to fulfil. + +(_Enter_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) [_Exit_. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The monkey! Is she gone? + +FAUST + + Hast played the spy again? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I've heard, most fully, how she drew thee. +The Doctor has been catechised, 'tis plain; +Great good, I hope, the thing will do thee. +The girls have much desire to ascertain +If one is prim and good, as ancient rules compel: +If there he's led, they think, he'll follow them as well. + +FAUST + +Thou, monster, wilt nor see nor own +How this pure soul, of faith so lowly, +So loving and ineffable,-- +The faith alone +That her salvation is,--with scruples holy +Pines, lest she hold as lost the man she loves so well! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Thou, full of sensual, super-sensual desire, +A girl by the nose is leading thee. + +FAUST + +Abortion, thou, of filth and fire! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And then, how masterly she reads physiognomy! +When I am present she's impressed, she knows not how; +She in my mask a hidden sense would read: +She feels that surely I'm a genius now,-- +Perhaps the very Devil, indeed! +Well, well,--to-night--? + +FAUST + + What's that to thee? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yet my delight 'twill also be! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XVII + + +AT THE FOUNTAIN + +MARGARET _and_ LISBETH _With pitchers_. + +LISBETH + +Hast nothing heard of Barbara? + +MARGARET + +No, not a word. I go so little out. + +LISBETH + +It's true, Sibylla said, to-day. +She's played the fool at last, there's not a doubt. +Such taking-on of airs! + +MARGARET + + How so? + +LISBETH + + It stinks! +She's feeding two, whene'er she eats and drinks. + +MARGARET + +Ah! + +LISBETH + + And so, at last, it serves her rightly. +She clung to the fellow so long and tightly! +That was a promenading! +At village and dance parading! +As the first they must everywhere shine, +And he treated her always to pies and wine, +And she made a to-do with her face so fine; +So mean and shameless was her behavior, +She took all the presents the fellow gave her. +'Twas kissing and coddling, on and on! +So now, at the end, the flower is gone. + +MARGARET + +The poor, poor thing! + +LISBETH + + Dost pity her, at that? +When one of us at spinning sat, +And mother, nights, ne'er let us out the door +She sported with her paramour. +On the door-bench, in the passage dark, +The length of the time they'd never mark. +So now her head no more she'll lift, +But do church-penance in her sinner's shift! + +MARGARET + +He'll surely take her for his wife. + +LISBETH + +He'd be a fool! A brisk young blade +Has room, elsewhere, to ply his trade. +Besides, he's gone. + +MARGARET + + That is not fair! + +LISBETH + +If him she gets, why let her beware! +The boys shall dash her wreath on the floor, +And we'll scatter chaff before her door! + [_Exit_. + +MARGARET (_returning home_) + +How scornfully I once reviled, +When some poor maiden was beguiled! +More speech than any tongue suffices +I craved, to censure others' vices. +Black as it seemed, I blackened still, +And blacker yet was in my will; +And blessed myself, and boasted high,-- +And now--a living sin am I! +Yet--all that drove my heart thereto, +God! was so good, so dear, so true! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XVIII + + +DONJON + +(_In a niche of the wall a shrine, with an image of the Mater +Dolorosa. Pots of flowers before it_.) + +MARGARET + +(_putting fresh flowers in the pots_) + + Incline, O Maiden, + Thou sorrow-laden, + Thy gracious countenance upon my pain! + + The sword Thy heart in, + With anguish smarting, + Thou lookest up to where Thy Son is slain! + + Thou seest the Father; + Thy sad sighs gather, + And bear aloft Thy sorrow and His pain! + + Ah, past guessing, + Beyond expressing, + The pangs that wring my flesh and bone! + Why this anxious heart so burneth, + Why it trembleth, why it yearneth, + Knowest Thou, and Thou alone! + + Where'er I go, what sorrow, + What woe, what woe and sorrow + Within my bosom aches! + Alone, and ah! unsleeping, + I'm weeping, weeping, weeping, + The heart within me breaks. + + The pots before my window, + Alas! my tears did wet, + As in the early morning + For thee these flowers I set. + + Within my lonely chamber + The morning sun shone red: + I sat, in utter sorrow, + Already on my bed. + + Help! rescue me from death and stain! + O Maiden! + Thou sorrow-laden, + Incline Thy countenance upon my pain! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XIX + + +NIGHT + +STREET BEFORE MARGARET'S DOOR + +VALENTINE (_a soldier_, MARGARET'S _brother_) + +When I have sat at some carouse. +Where each to each his brag allows, +And many a comrade praised to me +His pink of girls right lustily, +With brimming glass that spilled the toast, +And elbows planted as in boast: +I sat in unconcerned repose, +And heard the swagger as it rose. +And stroking then my beard, I'd say, +Smiling, the bumper in my hand: +"Each well enough in her own way. +But is there one in all the land +Like sister Margaret, good as gold,-- +One that to her can a candle hold?" +Cling! clang! "Here's to her!" went around +The board: "He speaks the truth!" cried some; +"In her the flower o' the sex is found!" +And all the swaggerers were dumb. +And now!--I could tear my hair with vexation. +And dash out my brains in desperation! +With turned-up nose each scamp may face me, +With sneers and stinging taunts disgrace me, +And, like a bankrupt debtor sitting, +A chance-dropped word may set me sweating! +Yet, though I thresh them all together, +I cannot call them liars, either. + +But what comes sneaking, there, to view? +If I mistake not, there are two. +If _he's_ one, let me at him drive! +He shall not leave the spot alive. + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +How from the window of the sacristy +Upward th'eternal lamp sends forth a glimmer, +That, lessening side-wards, fainter grows and dimmer, +Till darkness closes from the sky! +The shadows thus within my bosom gather. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I'm like a sentimental tom-cat, rather, +That round the tall fire-ladders sweeps, +And stealthy, then, along the coping creeps: +Quite virtuous, withal, I come, +A little thievish and a little frolicsome. +I feel in every limb the presage +Forerunning the grand Walpurgis-Night: +Day after to-morrow brings its message, +And one keeps watch then with delight. + +FAUST + +Meanwhile, may not the treasure risen be, +Which there, behind, I glimmering see? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Shalt soon experience the pleasure, +To lift the kettle with its treasure. +I lately gave therein a squint-- +Saw splendid lion-dollars in 't. + +FAUST + +Not even a jewel, not a ring, +To deck therewith my darling girl? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I saw, among the rest, a thing +That seemed to be a chain of pearl. + +FAUST + +That's well, indeed! For painful is it +To bring no gift when her I visit. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Thou shouldst not find it so annoying, +Without return to be enjoying. +Now, while the sky leads forth its starry throng, +Thou'lt hear a masterpiece, no work completer: +I'll sing her, first, a moral song, +The surer, afterwards, to cheat her. + +(_Sings to the cither_.) + + What dost thou here + In daybreak clear, + Kathrina dear, + Before thy lover's door? + Beware! the blade + Lets in a maid. + That out a maid + Departeth nevermore! + + The coaxing shun + Of such an one! + When once 'tis done + Good-night to thee, poor thing! + Love's time is brief: + Unto no thief + Be warm and lief, + But with the wedding-ring! + +VALENTINE (_comes forward_) + +Whom wilt thou lure? God's-element! +Rat-catching piper, thou!--perdition! +To the Devil, first, the instrument! +To the Devil, then, the curst musician! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The cither's smashed! For nothing more 'tis fitting. + +VALENTINE + +There's yet a skull I must be splitting! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Sir Doctor, don't retreat, I pray! +Stand by: I'll lead, if you'll but tarry: +Out with your spit, without delay! +You've but to lunge, and I will parry. + +VALENTINE + +Then parry that! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Why not? 'tis light. +VALENTINE + +That, too! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Of course. + +VALENTINE + +I think the Devil must fight! +How is it, then? my hand's already lame: + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Thrust home! + +VALENTINE (_jails_) + +O God! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Now is the lubber tame! +But come, away! 'Tis time for us to fly; +For there arises now a murderous cry. +With the police 'twere easy to compound it, +But here the penal court will sift and sound it. + +[_Exit with_ FAUST. + +MARTHA (_at the window_) + +Come out! Come out! + +MARGARET (_at the window_) + +Quick, bring a light! + +MARTHA (_as above_) + +They swear and storm, they yell and fight! + +PEOPLE + +Here lies one dead already--see! + +MARTHA (_coming from the house_) + +The murderers, whither have they run? + +MARGARET (_coming out_) + +Who lies here? + +PEOPLE + +'Tis thy mother's son! + +MARGARET + +Almighty God! what misery! + +VALENTINE + +I'm dying! That is quickly said, +And quicker yet 'tis done. +Why howl, you women there? Instead, +Come here and listen, every one! + +(_All gather around him_) + +My Margaret, see! still young thou art, +But not the least bit shrewd or smart, +Thy business thus to slight: +So this advice I bid thee heed-- +Now that thou art a whore indeed, +Why, be one then, outright! + +MARGARET + +My brother! God! such words to me? + +VALENTINE + +In this game let our Lord God be! +What's done's already done, alas! +What follows it, must come to pass. +With one begin'st thou secretly, +Then soon will others come to thee, +And when a dozen thee have known, +Thou'rt also free to all the town. +When Shame is born and first appears, +She is in secret brought to light, +And then they draw the veil of night +Over her head and ears; +Her life, in fact, they're loath to spare her. +But let her growth and strength display, +She walks abroad unveiled by day, +Yet is not grown a whit the fairer. +The uglier she is to sight, +The more she seeks the day's broad light. +The time I verily can discern +When all the honest folk will turn +From thee, thou jade! and seek protection +As from a corpse that breeds infection. +Thy guilty heart shall then dismay thee. +When they but look thee in the face:-- +Shalt not in a golden chain array thee, +Nor at the altar take thy place! +Shalt not, in lace and ribbons flowing, +Make merry when the dance is going! +But in some corner, woe betide thee! +Among the beggars and cripples hide thee; +And so, though even God forgive, +On earth a damned existence live! + +MARTHA + +Commend your soul to God for pardon, +That you your heart with slander harden! + +VALENTINE + +Thou pimp most infamous, be still! +Could I thy withered body kill, +'Twould bring, for all my sinful pleasure, +Forgiveness in the richest measure. + +MARGARET + +My brother! This is Hell's own pain! + +VALENTINE + +I tell thee, from thy tears refrain! +When thou from honor didst depart +It stabbed me to the very heart. +Now through the slumber of the grave +I go to God as a soldier brave. + +(_Dies_.) + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XX + + +CATHEDRAL + +SERVICE, ORGAN _and_ ANTHEM. + +(MARGARET _among much people: the_ EVIL SPIRIT _behind_ +MARGARET.) + +EVIL SPIRIT + +HOW otherwise was it, Margaret, +When thou, still innocent, +Here to the altar cam'st, +And from the worn and fingered book +Thy prayers didst prattle, +Half sport of childhood, +Half God within thee! +Margaret! +Where tends thy thought? +Within thy bosom +What hidden crime? +Pray'st thou for mercy on thy mother's soul, +That fell asleep to long, long torment, and through thee? +Upon thy threshold whose the blood? +And stirreth not and quickens +Something beneath thy heart, +Thy life disquieting +With most foreboding presence? + +MARGARET + +Woe! woe! +Would I were free from the thoughts +That cross me, drawing hither and thither +Despite me! + +CHORUS + + _Diesira, dies illa, + Solvet soeclum in favilla_! + _(Sound of the organ_.) + +EVIL SPIRIT + +Wrath takes thee! +The trumpet peals! +The graves tremble! +And thy heart +From ashy rest +To fiery torments +Now again requickened, +Throbs to life! + +MARGARET + +Would I were forth! +I feel as if the organ here +My breath takes from me, +My very heart +Dissolved by the anthem! + + +CHORUS + + _Judex ergo cum sedebit, + Quidquid latet, ad parebit, + Nil inultum remanebit_. +MARGARET + +I cannot breathe! +The massy pillars +Imprison me! +The vaulted arches +Crush me!--Air! + +EVIL SPIRIT + +Hide thyself! Sin and shame +Stay never hidden. +Air? Light? +Woe to thee! + +CHORUS + + _Quid sum miser tunc dicturus, + Quem patronem rogaturus, + Cum vix Justus sit securus_? + +EVIL SPIRIT + +They turn their faces, +The glorified, from thee: +The pure, their hands to offer, +Shuddering, refuse thee! +Woe! + +CHORUS + +_Quid sum miser tune dicturus_? + +MARGARET + +Neighbor! your cordial! (_She falls in a swoon_.) + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXI + + +WALPURGIS-NIGHT + +THE HARTZ MOUNTAINS. + +_District of Schierke and Elend_. + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +DOST thou not wish a broomstick-steed's assistance? +The sturdiest he-goat I would gladly see: +The way we take, our goal is yet some distance. + +FAUST + +So long as in my legs I feel the fresh existence. +This knotted staff suffices me. +What need to shorten so the way? +Along this labyrinth of vales to wander, +Then climb the rocky ramparts yonder, +Wherefrom the fountain flings eternal spray, +Is such delight, my steps would fain delay. +The spring-time stirs within the fragrant birches, +And even the fir-tree feels it now: +Should then our limbs escape its gentle searches? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I notice no such thing, I vow! +'Tis winter still within my body: +Upon my path I wish for frost and snow. +How sadly rises, incomplete and ruddy, +The moon's lone disk, with its belated glow, +And lights so dimly, that, as one advances, +At every step one strikes a rock or tree! +Let us, then, use a Jack-o'-lantern's glances: +I see one yonder, burning merrily. +Ho, there! my friend! I'll levy thine attendance: +Why waste so vainly thy resplendence? +Be kind enough to light us up the steep! + +WILL-O'-THE-WISP + +My reverence, I hope, will me enable +To curb my temperament unstable; +For zigzag courses we are wont to keep. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Indeed? he'd like mankind to imitate! +Now, in the Devil's name, go straight, +Or I'll blow out his being's flickering spark! + +WILL-O'-THE-WISP + +You are the master of the house, I mark, +And I shall try to serve you nicely. +But then, reflect: the mountain's magic-mad to-day, +And if a will-o'-the-wisp must guide you on the way, +You mustn't take things too precisely. + +FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, WILL-O'-THE-WISP + +(_in alternating song_) + + We, it seems, have entered newly + In the sphere of dreams enchanted. + Do thy bidding, guide us truly, + That our feet be forwards planted + In the vast, the desert spaces! + See them swiftly changing places, + Trees on trees beside us trooping, + And the crags above us stooping, + And the rocky snouts, outgrowing,-- + Hear them snoring, hear them blowing! + O'er the stones, the grasses, flowing + Stream and streamlet seek the hollow. + Hear I noises? songs that follow? + Hear I tender love-petitions? + Voices of those heavenly visions? + Sounds of hope, of love undying! + And the echoes, like traditions + Of old days, come faint and hollow. + + Hoo-hoo! Shoo-hoo! Nearer hover + Jay and screech-owl, and the plover,-- + Are they all awake and crying? + Is't the salamander pushes, + Bloated-bellied, through the bushes? + And the roots, like serpents twisted, + Through the sand and boulders toiling, + Fright us, weirdest links uncoiling + To entrap us, unresisted: + Living knots and gnarls uncanny + Feel with polypus-antennae + For the wanderer. Mice are flying, + Thousand-colored, herd-wise hieing + Through the moss and through the heather! + + And the fire-flies wink and darkle, + Crowded swarms that soar and sparkle, + And in wildering escort gather! + + Tell me, if we still are standing, + Or if further we're ascending? + All is turning, whirling, blending, + Trees and rocks with grinning faces, + Wandering lights that spin in mazes, + Still increasing and expanding! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Grasp my skirt with heart undaunted! +Here a middle-peak is planted, +Whence one seeth, with amaze, +Mammon in the mountain blaze. + +FAUST + +How strangely glimmers through the hollows +A dreary light, like that of dawn! +Its exhalation tracks and follows +The deepest gorges, faint and wan. +Here steam, there rolling vapor sweepeth; +Here burns the glow through film and haze: +Now like a tender thread it creepeth, +Now like a fountain leaps and plays. +Here winds away, and in a hundred +Divided veins the valley braids: +There, in a corner pressed and sundered, +Itself detaches, spreads and fades. +Here gush the sparkles incandescent +Like scattered showers of golden sand;-- +But, see! in all their height, at present, +The rocky ramparts blazing stand. + +[Illustration: _Under the old ribs of the rock retreating_,] + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Has not Sir Mammon grandly lighted +His palace for this festal night? +'Tis lucky thou hast seen the sight; +The boisterous guests approach that were invited. + +FAUST + +How raves the tempest through the air! +With what fierce blows upon my neck 'tis beating! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Under the old ribs of the rock retreating, +Hold fast, lest thou be hurled down the abysses there! +The night with the mist is black; +Hark! how the forests grind and crack! +Frightened, the owlets are scattered: +Hearken! the pillars are shattered. +The evergreen palaces shaking! +Boughs are groaning and breaking, +The tree-trunks terribly thunder, +The roots are twisting asunder! +In frightfully intricate crashing +Each on the other is dashing, +And over the wreck-strewn gorges +The tempest whistles and surges! +Hear'st thou voices higher ringing? +Far away, or nearer singing? +Yes, the mountain's side along, +Sweeps an infuriate glamouring song! + +WITCHES (_in chorus_) + + The witches ride to the Brocken's top, + The stubble is yellow, and green the crop. + There gathers the crowd for carnival: + Sir Urian sits over all. + + And so they go over stone and stock; + The witch she-----s, and-----s the buck. + +A VOICE + + Alone, old Baubo's coming now; + She rides upon a farrow-sow. + +CHORUS + + Then honor to whom the honor is due! + Dame Baubo first, to lead the crew! + A tough old sow and the mother thereon, + Then follow the witches, every one. + +A VOICE + +Which way com'st thou hither? + +VOICE + +O'er the Ilsen-stone. +I peeped at the owl in her nest alone: +How she stared and glared! + +VOICE + +Betake thee to Hell! +Why so fast and so fell? + +VOICE + +She has scored and has flayed me: +See the wounds she has made me! + +WITCHES (_chorus_) + + The way is wide, the way is long: + See, what a wild and crazy throng! + The broom it scratches, the fork it thrusts, + The child is stifled, the mother bursts. +WIZARDS (_semichorus_) + + As doth the snail in shell, we crawl: + Before us go the women all. + When towards the Devil's House we tread, + Woman's a thousand steps ahead. + +OTHER SEMICHORUS + + We do not measure with such care: + Woman in thousand steps is theft. + But howsoe'er she hasten may, + Man in one leap has cleared the way. + +VOICE (_from above_) + +Come on, come on, from Rocky Lake! + +VOICE (_from below_) + +Aloft we'd fain ourselves betake. +We've washed, and are bright as ever you will, +Yet we're eternally sterile still. + +BOTH CHORUSES + + The wind is hushed, the star shoots by. + The dreary moon forsakes the sky; + The magic notes, like spark on spark, + Drizzle, whistling through the dark. + +VOICE (_from below_) + +Halt, there! Ho, there! + +VOICE (_from above_) + +Who calls from the rocky cleft below there? + +VOICE (_below_) + +Take me, too! take me, too! +I'm climbing now three hundred years, +And yet the summit cannot see: +Among my equals I would be. + +BOTH CHORUSES + + Bears the broom and bears the stock, + Bears the fork and bears the buck: + Who cannot raise himself to-night + Is evermore a ruined wight. + +HALF-WITCH (_below_) + +So long I stumble, ill bestead, +And the others are now so far ahead! +At home I've neither rest nor cheer, +And yet I cannot gain them here. + +CHORUS OF WITCHES + + To cheer the witch will salve avail; + A rag will answer for a sail; + Each trough a goodly ship supplies; + He ne'er will fly, who now not flies. + +BOTH CHORUSES + + When round the summit whirls our flight, + Then lower, and on the ground alight; + And far and wide the heather press + With witchhood's swarms of wantonness! + +(_They settle down_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +They crowd and push, they roar and clatter! +They whirl and whistle, pull and chatter! +They shine, and spirt, and stink, and burn! +The true witch-element we learn. +Keep close! or we are parted, in our turn, +Where art thou? + +FAUST (_in the distance_) + +Here! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What! whirled so far astray? +Then house-right I must use, and clear the way. +Make room! Squire Voland comes! Room, gentle rabble, +room! + +Here, Doctor, hold to me: in one jump we'll resume +An easier space, and from the crowd be free: +It's too much, even for the like of me. +Yonder, with special light, there's something shining clearer +Within those bushes; I've a mind to see. +Come on! we'll slip a little nearer. + +FAUST + +Spirit of Contradiction! On! I'll follow straight. +'Tis planned most wisely, if I judge aright: +We climb the Brocken's top in the Walpurgis-Night, +That arbitrarily, here, ourselves we isolate. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But see, what motley flames among the heather! +There is a lively club together: +In smaller circles one is not alone. + +FAUST + +Better the summit, I must own: +There fire and whirling smoke I see. +They seek the Evil One in wild confusion: +Many enigmas there might find solution. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But there enigmas also knotted be. +Leave to the multitude their riot! +Here will we house ourselves in quiet. +It is an old, transmitted trade, +That in the greater world the little worlds are made. +I see stark-nude young witches congregate, +And old ones, veiled and hidden shrewdly: +On my account be kind, nor treat them rudely! +The trouble's small, the fun is great. +I hear the noise of instruments attuning,-- +Vile din! yet one must learn to bear the crooning. +Come, come along! It _must_ be, I declare! +I'll go ahead and introduce thee there, +Thine obligation newly earning. +That is no little space: what say'st thou, friend? +Look yonder! thou canst scarcely see the end: +A hundred fires along the ranks are burning. +They dance, they chat, they cook, they drink, they court: +Now where, just tell me, is there better sport? + +FAUST + +Wilt thou, to introduce us to the revel, +Assume the part of wizard or of devil? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I'm mostly used, 'tis true, to go incognito, +But on a gala-day one may his orders show. +The Garter does not deck my suit, +But honored and at home is here the cloven foot. +Perceiv'st thou yonder snail? It cometh, slow and steady; +So delicately its feelers pry, +That it hath scented me already: +I cannot here disguise me, if I try. +But come! we'll go from this fire to a newer: +I am the go-between, and thou the wooer. + +(_To some, who are sitting around dying embers_:) + +Old gentlemen, why at the outskirts? Enter! +I'd praise you if I found you snugly in the centre, +With youth and revel round you like a zone: +You each, at home, are quite enough alone. + +GENERAL + +Say, who would put his trust in nations, +Howe'er for them one may have worked and planned? +For with the people, as with women, +Youth always has the upper hand. + +MINISTER + +They're now too far from what is just and sage. +I praise the old ones, not unduly: +When we were all-in-all, then, truly, +_Then_ was the real golden age. + +PARVENU + +We also were not stupid, either, +And what we should not, often did; +But now all things have from their bases slid, +Just as we meant to hold them fast together. + +AUTHOR + +Who, now, a work of moderate sense will read? +Such works are held as antiquate and mossy; +And as regards the younger folk, indeed, +They never yet have been so pert and saucy. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_who all at once appears very old_) + +I feel that men are ripe for Judgment-Day, +Now for the last time I've the witches'-hill ascended: +Since to the lees _my_ cask is drained away, +The world's, as well, must soon be ended. + +HUCKSTER-WITCH + +Ye gentlemen, don't pass me thus! +Let not the chance neglected be! +Behold my wares attentively: +The stock is rare and various. +And yet, there's nothing I've collected-- +No shop, on earth, like this you'll find!-- +Which has not, once, sore hurt inflicted +Upon the world, and on mankind. +No dagger's here, that set not blood to flowing; +No cup, that hath not once, within a healthy frame +Poured speedy death, in poison glowing: +No gems, that have not brought a maid to shame; +No sword, but severed ties for the unwary, +Or from behind struck down the adversary. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Gossip! the times thou badly comprehendest: +What's done has happed--what haps, is done! +'Twere better if for novelties thou sendest: +By such alone can we be won. + +FAUST + +Let me not lose myself in all this pother! +This is a fair, as never was another! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The whirlpool swirls to get above: +Thou'rt shoved thyself, imagining to shove. + +FAUST + +But who is that? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Note her especially, +Tis Lilith. + +FAUST + +Who? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Adam's first wife is she. +Beware the lure within her lovely tresses, +The splendid sole adornment of her hair! +When she succeeds therewith a youth to snare, +Not soon again she frees him from her jesses. + +FAUST + +Those two, the old one with the young one sitting, +They've danced already more than fitting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No rest to-night for young or old! +They start another dance: come now, let us take hold! + +FAUST (_dancing with the young witch_) + + A lovely dream once came to me; + I then beheld an apple-tree, + And there two fairest apples shone: + They lured me so, I climbed thereon. + +THE FAIR ONE + + Apples have been desired by you, + Since first in Paradise they grew; + And I am moved with joy, to know + That such within my garden grow. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_dancing with the old one_) + + A dissolute dream once came to me: + Therein I saw a cloven tree, + Which had a-----------------; + Yet,-----as 'twas, I fancied it. + +THE OLD ONE + + I offer here my best salute + Unto the knight with cloven foot! + Let him a-----------prepare, + If him------------------does not scare. + +PROKTOPHANTASMIST + +Accursd folk! How dare you venture thus? +Had you not, long since, demonstration +That ghosts can't stand on ordinary foundation? +And now you even dance, like one of us! + +THE FAIR ONE (_dancing_) + +Why does he come, then, to our ball? + +FAUST (_dancing_) + +O, everywhere on him you fall! +When others dance, he weighs the matter: +If he can't every step bechatter, +Then 'tis the same as were the step not made; +But if you forwards go, his ire is most displayed. +If you would whirl in regular gyration +As he does in his dull old mill, +He'd show, at any rate, good-will,-- +Especially if you heard and heeded his hortation. + +PROKTOPHANTASMIST + +You still are here? Nay, 'tis a thing unheard! +Vanish, at once! We've said the enlightening word. +The pack of devils by no rules is daunted: +We are so wise, and yet is Tegel haunted. +To clear the folly out, how have I swept and stirred! +Twill ne'er be clean: why, 'tis a thing unheard! + +THE FAIR ONE + +Then cease to bore us at our ball! + +PROKTOPHANTASMIST + +I tell you, spirits, to your face, +I give to spirit-despotism no place; +My spirit cannot practise it at all. + +(_The dance continues_) + +Naught will succeed, I see, amid such revels; +Yet something from a tour I always save, +And hope, before my last step to the grave, +To overcome the poets and the devils. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +He now will seat him in the nearest puddle; +The solace this, whereof he's most assured: +And when upon his rump the leeches hang and fuddle, +He'll be of spirits and of Spirit cured. + +(_To_ FAUST, _who has left the dance_:) + +Wherefore forsakest thou the lovely maiden, +That in the dance so sweetly sang? + +FAUST + +Ah! in the midst of it there sprang +A red mouse from her mouth--sufficient reason. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That's nothing! One must not so squeamish be; +So the mouse was not gray, enough for thee. +Who'd think of that in love's selected season? + +FAUST + +Then saw I--. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What? + +FAUST + +Mephisto, seest thou there, +Alone and far, a girl most pale and fair? +She falters on, her way scarce knowing, +As if with fettered feet that stay her going. +I must confess, it seems to me +As if my kindly Margaret were she. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Let the thing be! All thence have evil drawn: +It is a magic shape, a lifeless eidolon. +Such to encounter is not good: +Their blank, set stare benumbs the human blood, +And one is almost turned to stone. +Medusa's tale to thee is known. + +FAUST + +Forsooth, the eyes they are of one whom, dying, +No hand with loving pressure closed; +That is the breast whereon I once was lying,-- +The body sweet, beside which I reposed! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Tis magic all, thou fool, seduced so easily! +Unto each man his love she seems to be. + +FAUST + +The woe, the rapture, so ensnare me, +That from her gaze I cannot tear me! +And, strange! around her fairest throat +A single scarlet band is gleaming, +No broader than a knife-blade seeming! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Quite right! The mark I also note. +Her head beneath her arm she'll sometimes carry; +Twas Perseus lopped it, her old adversary. +Thou crav'st the same illusion still! +Come, let us mount this little hill; +The Prater shows no livelier stir, +And, if they've not bewitched my sense, +I verily see a theatre. +What's going on? + +SERVIBILIS + 'Twill shortly recommence: +A new performance--'tis the last of seven. +To give that number is the custom here: +'Twas by a Dilettante written, +And Dilettanti in the parts appear. +That now I vanish, pardon, I entreat you! +As Dilettante I the curtain raise. + +MEPHISTOPHELES +When I upon the Blocksberg meet you, +I find it good: for that's your proper place. + + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXII + + +WALPURGIS-NIGHT'S DREAM + +OBERON AND TITANIA's GOLDEN WEDDING + +INTERMEZZO + +MANAGER + +Sons of Mieding, rest to-day! +Needless your machinery: +Misty vale and mountain gray, +That is all the scenery. + +HERALD + +That the wedding golden be. +Must fifty years be rounded: +But _the Golden_ give to me, +When the strife's compounded. + +OBERON + +Spirits, if you're here, be seen-- +Show yourselves, delighted! +Fairy king and fairy queen, +They are newly plighted. + +PUCK + +Cometh Puck, and, light of limb, +Whisks and whirls in measure: +Come a hundred after him, +To share with him the pleasure. + +ARIEL + +Ariel's song is heavenly-pure, +His tones are sweet and rare ones: +Though ugly faces he allure, +Yet he allures the fair ones. + +OBERON + +Spouses, who would fain agree, +Learn how we were mated! +If your pairs would loving be, +First be separated! + +TITANIA + +If her whims the wife control, +And the man berate her, +Take him to the Northern Pole, +And her to the Equator! + +ORCHESTRA. TUTTI. + +_Fortissimo_. + +Snout of fly, mosquito-bill, +And kin of all conditions, +Frog in grass, and cricket-trill,-- +These are the musicians! + +SOLO + +See the bagpipe on our track! +'Tis the soap-blown bubble: +Hear the _schnecke-schnicke-schnack_ +Through his nostrils double! + +SPIRIT, JUST GROWING INTO FORM + +Spider's foot and paunch of toad, +And little wings--we know 'em! +A little creature 'twill not be, +But yet, a little poem. + +A LITTLE COUPLE + +Little step and lofty leap +Through honey-dew and fragrance: +You'll never mount the airy steep +With all your tripping vagrance. + +INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER + +Is't but masquerading play? +See I with precision? +Oberon, the beauteous fay, +Meets, to-night, my vision! + +ORTHODOX + +Not a claw, no tail I see! +And yet, beyond a cavil, +Like "the Gods of Greece," must he +Also be a devil. + +NORTHERN ARTIST + +I only seize, with sketchy air, +Some outlines of the tourney; +Yet I betimes myself prepare +For my Italian journey. + +PURIST + +My bad luck brings me here, alas! +How roars the orgy louder! +And of the witches in the mass, +But only two wear powder. + +YOUNG WITCH + +Powder becomes, like petticoat, +A gray and wrinkled noddy; +So I sit naked on my goat, +And show a strapping body. + +MATRON + +We've too much tact and policy +To rate with gibes a scolder; +Yet, young and tender though you be, +I hope to see you moulder. + +LEADER OF THE BAND + +Fly-snout and mosquito-bill, +Don't swarm so round the Naked! +Frog in grass and cricket-trill, +Observe the time, and make it! + +WEATHERCOCK (_towards one side_) + +Society to one's desire! +Brides only, and the sweetest! +And bachelors of youth and fire. +And prospects the completest! + +WEATHERCOCK (_towards the other side_) + +And if the Earth don't open now +To swallow up each ranter, +Why, then will I myself, I vow, +Jump into hell instanter! + +XENIES + +Us as little insects see! +With sharpest nippers flitting, +That our Papa Satan we +May honor as is fitting. + +HENNINGS + +How, in crowds together massed, +They are jesting, shameless! +They will even say, at last, +That their hearts are blameless. + +MUSAGETES + +Among this witches' revelry +His way one gladly loses; +And, truly, it would easier be +Than to command the Muses. + +CI-DEVANT GENIUS OF THE AGE + +The proper folks one's talents laud: +Come on, and none shall pass us! +The Blocksberg has a summit broad, +Like Germany's Parnassus. + +INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER + +Say, who's the stiff and pompous man? +He walks with haughty paces: +He snuffles all he snuffle can: +"He scents the Jesuits' traces." + +CRANE + +Both clear and muddy streams, for me +Are good to fish and sport in: +And thus the pious man you see +With even devils consorting. + +WORLDLING + +Yes, for the pious, I suspect, +All instruments are fitting; +And on the Blocksberg they erect +Full many a place of meeting. + +DANCER + +A newer chorus now succeeds! +I hear the distant drumming. +"Don't be disturbed! 'tis, in the reeds, +The bittern's changeless booming." + +DANCING-MASTER + +How each his legs in nimble trip +Lifts up, and makes a clearance! +The crooked jump, the heavy skip, +Nor care for the appearance. + +GOOD FELLOW + +The rabble by such hate are held, +To maim and slay delights them: +As Orpheus' lyre the brutes compelled, +The bagpipe here unites them. + +DOGMATIST + +I'll not be led by any lure +Of doubts or critic-cavils: +The Devil must be something, sure,-- +Or how should there be devils? + +IDEALIST + +This once, the fancy wrought in me +Is really too despotic: +Forsooth, if I am all I see, +I must be idiotic! + +REALIST + +This racking fuss on every hand, +It gives me great vexation; +And, for the first time, here I stand +On insecure foundation. + +SUPERNATURALIST + +With much delight I see the play, +And grant to these their merits, +Since from the devils I also may +Infer the better spirits. + +SCEPTIC + +The flame they follow, on and on, +And think they're near the treasure: +But _Devil_ rhymes with _Doubt_ alone, +So I am here with pleasure. + +LEADER OF THE BAND + +Frog in green, and cricket-trill. +Such dilettants!--perdition! +Fly-snout and mosquito-bill,-- +Each one's a fine musician! + +THE ADROIT + +_Sans souci_, we call the clan +Of merry creatures so, then; +Go a-foot no more we can, +And on our heads we go, then. + +THE AWKWARD + +Once many a bit we sponged, but now, +God help us! that is done with: +Our shoes are all danced out, we trow, +We've but naked soles to run with. + +WILL-O'-THE WISPS + +From the marshes we appear, +Where we originated; +Yet in the ranks, at once, we're here +As glittering gallants rated. + +SHOOTING-STAR + +Darting hither from the sky, +In star and fire light shooting, +Cross-wise now in grass I lie: +Who'll help me to my footing? + +THE HEAVY FELLOWS + +Room! and round about us, room! +Trodden are the grasses: +Spirits also, spirits come, +And they are bulky masses. + +PUCK + +Enter not so stall-fed quite, +Like elephant-calves about one! +And the heaviest weight to-night +Be Puck, himself, the stout one! + +ARIEL + +If loving Nature at your back, +Or Mind, the wings uncloses, +Follow up my airy track +To the mount of roses! + +ORCHESTRA + +_pianissimo_ +Cloud and trailing mist o'erhead +Are now illuminated: +Air in leaves, and wind in reed, +And all is dissipated. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXIII + + +DREARY DAY + +A FIELD + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +In misery! In despair! Long wretchedly astray on the face of the earth, +and now imprisoned! That gracious, ill-starred creature shut in a +dungeon as a criminal, and given up to fearful torments! To this has it +come! to this!--Treacherous, contemptible spirit, and thou hast +concealed it from me!--Stand, then,--stand! Roll the devilish eyes +wrathfully in thy head! Stand and defy me with thine intolerable +presence! Imprisoned! In irretrievable misery! Delivered up to evil +spirits, and to condemning, unfeeling Man! And thou hast lulled me, +meanwhile, with the most insipid dissipations, hast concealed from me +her increasing wretchedness, and suffered her to go helplessly to ruin! +[Illustration: _Roll the devilish eyes wrathfully in thy head_] + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +She is not the first. + +FAUST + +Dog! Abominable monster! Transform him, thou Infinite Spirit! transform +the reptile again into his dog-shape? in which it pleased him often at +night to scamper on before me, to roll himself at the feet of the +unsuspecting wanderer, and hang upon his shoulders when he fell! +Transform him again into his favorite likeness, that he may crawl upon +his belly in the dust before me,--that I may trample him, the outlawed, +under foot! Not the first! O woe! woe which no human soul can grasp, +that more than one being should sink into the depths of this +misery,--that the first, in its writhing death-agony under the eyes of +the Eternal Forgiver, did not expiate the guilt of all others! The +misery of this single one pierces to the very marrow of my life; and +thou art calmly grinning at the fate of thousands! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Now we are already again at the end of our wits, where the understanding +of you men runs wild. Why didst thou enter into fellowship with us, if +thou canst not carry it out? Wilt fly, and art not secure against +dizziness? Did we thrust ourselves upon thee, or thou thyself upon us? + +FAUST + +Gnash not thus thy devouring teeth at me? It fills me with horrible +disgust. Mighty, glorious Spirit, who hast vouchsafed to me Thine +apparition, who knowest my heart and my soul, why fetter me to the +felon-comrade, who feeds on mischief and gluts himself with ruin? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Hast thou done? + +FAUST + +Rescue her, or woe to thee! The fearfullest curse be upon thee for +thousands of ages! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I cannot loosen the bonds of the Avenger, nor undo his bolts. Rescue +her? Who was it that plunged her into ruin? I, or thou? + +(FAUST _looks around wildly_.) + +Wilt thou grasp the thunder? Well that it has not been given to you, +miserable mortals! To crush to pieces the innocent respondent--that is +the tyrant-fashion of relieving one's self in embarrassments. + +FAUST + +Take me thither! She shall be free! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And the danger to which thou wilt expose thyself? Know that the guilt of +blood, from thy hand, still lies upon the town! Avenging spirits hover +over the spot where the victim fell, and lie in wait for the returning +murderer. + +FAUST + +That, too, from thee? Murder and death of a world upon thee, monster! +Take me thither, I say, and liberate her! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I will convey thee there; and hear, what I can do! Have I all the power +in Heaven and on Earth? I will becloud the jailer's senses: get +possession of the key, and lead her forth with human hand! I will keep +watch: the magic steeds are ready, I will carry you off. So much is in +my power. + +FAUST + +Up and away! + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXIV + + +NIGHT + +OPEN FIELD + +(FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES _speeding onward on black horses_.) + + +FAUST + +What weave they there round the raven-stone? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I know not what they are brewing and doing. + + +FAUST + +Soaring up, sweeping down, bowing and bending! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A witches'-guild. + + +FAUST + +They scatter, devote and doom! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +On! on! + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXV + + +DUNGEON + +FAUST + +(_with a bunch of keys and a lamp, before an iron door_) + +A shudder, long unfelt, comes o'er me; +Mankind's collected woe o'erwhelms me, here. +She dwells within the dark, damp walls before me, +And all her crime was a delusion dear! +What! I delay to free her? +I dread, once again to see her? +On! my shrinking but lingers Death more near. + +(_He grasps the lock: the sound of singing is heard inside_.) + + _My mother, the harlot, + Who put me to death; + My father, the varlet, + Who eaten me hath! + Little sister, so good, + Laid my bones in the wood, + In the damp moss and clay:_ + _Then was I a beautiful bird o' the wood; + Fly away! Fly away_! + +FAUST _(unlocking)_ + +She does not dream her lover listens near; +That he the rattling chain, the rustling straw, can hear. + +_(He enters_.) + +MARGARET (_hiding herself on the pallet_) +Woe! woe! They come. O death of bitterness! + +FAUST (_whispering_) +Hush! hush! The hour is come that frees thee. + +MARGARET (_throwing herself before him_) +Art thou a man, then pity my distress! + +FAUST +Thy cries will wake the guards, and they will seize thee! +(_He takes hold of the fetters to unlock them_.) + +MARGARET (_on her knees_) + +Who, headsman! unto thee such power +Over me could give? +Thou'rt come for me at midnight-hour: +Have mercy on me, let me live! +Is't not soon enough when morning chime has run? + +(_She rises_.) + +And I am yet so young, so young! +And now Death comes, and ruin! +I, too, was fair, and that was my undoing. +My love was near, but now he's far; +Torn lies the wreath, scattered the blossoms are. +Seize me not thus so violently! +Spare me! What have I done to thee? +Let me not vainly entreat thee! +I never chanced, in all my days, to meet thee! + + +FAUST + +Shall I outlive this misery? + + +MARGARET + +Now am I wholly in thy might. +But let me suckle, first, my baby! +I blissed it all this livelong night; +They took 't away, to vex me, maybe, +And now they say I killed the child outright. +And never shall I be glad again. +They sing songs about me! 'tis bad of the folk to do it! +There's an old story has the same refrain; +Who bade them so construe it? + + +FAUST (_falling upon his knees_) + +Here lieth one who loves thee ever, +The thraldom of thy woe to sever. + + +MARGARET (_flinging herself beside him_) + +O let us kneel, and call the Saints to hide us! +Under the steps beside us, +The threshold under, +Hell heaves in thunder! +The Evil One +With terrible wrath +Seeketh a path +His prey to discover! + +FAUST (_aloud_) + +Margaret! Margaret! + + +MARGARET (_attentively listening_) + +That was the voice of my lover! + +(_She springs to her feet: the fetters fall off_.) + +Where is he? I heard him call me. +I am free! No one shall enthrall me. +To his neck will I fly, +On his bosom lie! +On the threshold he stood, and _Margaret_! calling, +Midst of Hell's howling and noises appalling, +Midst of the wrathful, infernal derision, +I knew the sweet sound of the voice of the vision! + + +FAUST + +'Tis I! + +MARGARET + + 'Tis thou! O, say it once again! + + (_Clasping him_.) + +'Tis he! 'tis he! Where now is all my pain? +The anguish of the dungeon, and the chain? +'Tis thou! Thou comest to save me, +And I am saved!-- +Again the street I see +Where first I looked on thee; +And the garden, brightly blooming, +Where I and Martha wait thy coming. + + +FAUST (_struggling to leave_) + +Come! Come with me! + + +MARGARET + + Delay, now! +So fain I stay, when thou delayest! + + (_Caressing him_.) + + +FAUST + +Away, now! +If longer here thou stayest, +We shall be made to dearly rue it. + +MARGARET + +Kiss me!--canst no longer do it? +My friend, so short a time thou'rt missing, +And hast unlearned thy kissing? +Why is my heart so anxious, on thy breast? +Where once a heaven thy glances did create me, +A heaven thy loving words expressed, +And thou didst kiss, as thou wouldst suffocate me-- +Kiss me! +Or I'll kiss thee! + +(_She embraces him_.) + +Ah, woe! thy lips are chill, +And still. +How changed in fashion +Thy passion! +Who has done me this ill? + +(_She turns away from him_.) + +FAUST + +Come, follow me! My darling, be more bold: +I'll clasp thee, soon, with warmth a thousand-fold; +But follow now! 'Tis all I beg of thee. + +MARGARET (_turning to him_) + +And is it thou? Thou, surely, certainly? + +FAUST + +'Tis I! Come on! + +MARGARET + +Thou wilt unloose my chain, +And in thy lap wilt take me once again. +How comes it that thou dost not shrink from me?-- +Say, dost thou know, my friend, whom thou mak'st free? + +FAUST + +Come! come! The night already vanisheth. + + +MARGARET + +My mother have I put to death; +I've drowned the baby born to thee. +Was it not given to thee and me? +Thee, too!--'Tis thou! It scarcely true doth seem-- +Give me thy hand! 'Tis not a dream! +Thy dear, dear hand!--But, ah, 'tis wet! +Why, wipe it off! Methinks that yet +There's blood thereon. +Ah, God! what hast thou done? +Nay, sheathe thy sword at last! +Do not affray me! + + +FAUST + +O, let the past be past! +Thy words will slay me! + + +MARGARET + +No, no! Thou must outlive us. +Now I'll tell thee the graves to give us: +Thou must begin to-morrow +The work of sorrow! +The best place give to my mother, +Then close at her side my brother, +And me a little away, +But not too very far, I pray! +And here, on my right breast, my baby lay! +Nobody else will lie beside me!-- +Ah, within thine arms to hide me, +That was a sweet and a gracious bliss, +But no more, no more can I attain it! +I would force myself on thee and constrain it, +And it seems thou repellest my kiss: +And yet 'tis thou, so good, so kind to see! + + +FAUST + +If thou feel'st it is I, then come with me! + + +MARGARET + +Out yonder? + + +FAUST + +To freedom. + + +MARGARET + + If the grave is there, +Death lying in wait, then come! +From here to eternal rest: +No further step--no, no! +Thou goest away! O Henry, if I could go! + + +FAUST + +Thou canst! Just will it! Open stands the door. + + +MARGARET + +I dare not go: there's no hope any more. +Why should I fly? They'll still my steps waylay! +It is so wretched, forced to beg my living, +And a bad conscience sharper misery giving! +It is so wretched, to be strange, forsaken, +And I'd still be followed and taken! + + +FAUST + +I'll stay with thee. + + +MARGARET + +Be quick! Be quick! +Save thy perishing child! +Away! Follow the ridge +Up by the brook, + +[Illustration: _=If the grave is there, +Death lying in wait, then come=_!] + +Over the bridge, +Into the wood, +To the left, where the plank is placed +In the pool! +Seize it in haste! +'Tis trying to rise, +'Tis struggling still! +Save it! Save it! + + +FAUST + +Recall thy wandering will! +One step, and thou art free at last! + + +MARGARET + +If the mountain we had only passed! +There sits my mother upon a stone,-- +I feel an icy shiver! +There sits my mother upon a stone, +And her head is wagging ever. +She beckons, she nods not, her heavy head falls o'er; +She slept so long that she wakes no more. +She slept, while we were caressing: +Ah, those were the days of blessing! + + +FAUST + +Here words and prayers are nothing worth; +I'll venture, then, to bear thee forth. + + +MARGARET + +No--let me go! I'll suffer no force! +Grasp me not so murderously! +I've done, else, all things for the love of thee. + + +FAUST + +The day dawns: Dearest! Dearest! + +MARGARET + +Day? Yes, the day comes,--the last day breaks for me! +My wedding-day it was to be! +Tell no one thou has been with Margaret! +Woe for my garland! The chances +Are over--'tis all in vain! +We shall meet once again, +But not at the dances! +The crowd is thronging, no word is spoken: +The square below +And the streets overflow: +The death-bell tolls, the wand is broken. +I am seized, and bound, and delivered-- +Shoved to the block--they give the sign! +Now over each neck has quivered +The blade that is quivering over mine. +Dumb lies the world like the grave! + +FAUST + +O had I ne'er been born! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_appears outside_) + +Off! or you're lost ere morn. +Useless talking, delaying and praying! +My horses are neighing: +The morning twilight is near. + +MARGARET + +What rises up from the threshold here? +He! he! suffer him not! +What does he want in this holy spot? +He seeks me! + + +FAUST + +Thou shalt live. + +MARGARET + +Judgment of God! myself to thee I give. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Come! or I'll leave her in the lurch, and thee! + + +MARGARET + +Thine am I, Father! rescue me! +Ye angels, holy cohorts, guard me, +Camp around, and from evil ward me! +Henry! I shudder to think of thee. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +She is judged! + + +VOICE (_from above_) + + She is saved! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + + Hither to me! + +(_He disappears with_ FAUST.) + + +VOICE (_from within, dying away_) + +Henry! Henry! + +[illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Faust, by Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAUST *** + +***** This file should be named 14591-8.txt or 14591-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/5/9/14591/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Chuck Greif and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Faust</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January 4, 2005 [eBook #14591]<br /> +[Most recently updated: March 15, 2023]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Juliet Sutherland, Chuck Greif and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading Team</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAUST ***</div> + + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-001.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-002.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-003.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 35%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-004.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-005.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h1>FAUST</h1> + +<p class="center"><i>by</i><br/> + </p> + <h2>Johann Wolfgang von Goethe</h2> + <p class="center">WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY<br/> + </p> + <h3>Harry Clarke</h3> + <p class="center">TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH, IN THE ORIGINAL METRES, BY<br/> + </p> + <h3>Bayard Taylor</h3> + <p class="center"><i>An Illustrated Edition</i><br/> + </p> + <p class="center">THE WORLD PUBLISHING COMPANY<br/> + </p> + <p class="center">CLEVELAND, OHIO NEW YORK, N.Y.<br/> + </p> + <p class="center">PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA<br/> + </p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-008.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-009.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#Preface">PREFACE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#AN_GOETHE">AN GOETHE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#DEDICATION">DEDICATION</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#PRELUDE_AT_THE_THEATRE">PRELUDE AT THE THEATRE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#PROLOGUE_IN_HEAVEN">PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN</a><br/><br/></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> FAUST</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#I">SCENE I. NIGHT (<i>Faust's Monologue</i>)</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#II">II. BEFORE THE CITY-GATE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#III">III. THE STUDY (<i>The Exorcism</i>)</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#IV">IV. THE STUDY (<i>The Compact</i>)</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#V">V. AUERBACH'S CELLAR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#VI">VI. WITCHES' KITCHEN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#VII">VII. A STREET</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#VIII">VIII. EVENING</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#IX">IX. PROMENADE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#X">X. THE NEIGHBOR'S HOUSE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XI">XI. STREET</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XII">XII. GARDEN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XIII">XIII. A GARDEN-ARBOR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XIV">XIV. FOREST AND CAVERN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XV">XV. MARGARET'S ROOM</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XVI">XVI. MARTHA'S GARDEN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XVII">XVII. AT THE FOUNTAIN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XVIII">XVIII. DONJON (<i>Margaret's Prayer</i>)</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XIX">XIX. NIGHT (<i>Valentine's Death</i>)</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XX">XX. CATHEDRAL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XXI">XXI. WALPURGIS-NIGHT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XXII">XXII. OBERON AND TITANIA'S GOLDEN WEDDING</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XXIII">XXIII. DREARY DAY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XXIV">XXIV. NIGHT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#XXV">XXV. DUNGEON</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-010.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-012.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-013.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="Preface"></a>Preface</h2> + <p>It is twenty years since I first determined to attempt the translation of + <i>Faust</i>, in the original metres. At that time, although more than a score of + English translations of the First Part, and three or four of the Second Part, were in + existence, the experiment had not yet been made. The prose version of Hayward seemed + to have been accepted as the standard, in default of anything more satisfactory: the + English critics, generally sustaining the translator in his views concerning the + secondary importance of form in Poetry, practically discouraged any further attempt; + and no one, familiar with rhythmical expression through the needs of his own nature, + had devoted the necessary love and patience to an adequate reproduction of the great + work of Goethe's life.</p> + <p>Mr. Brooks was the first to undertake the task, and the publication of his + translation of the First Part (in 1856) induced me, for a time, to give up my own + design. No previous English version exhibited such abnegation of the translator's own + tastes and habits of thought, such reverent desire to present the original in its + purest form. The care and conscience with which the work had been performed were so + apparent, that I now state with reluctance what then seemed to me to be its only + deficiencies,—a lack of the lyrical fire and fluency of the original in some + passages, and an occasional lowering of the tone through the use of words which are + literal, but not equivalent. The plan of translation adopted by Mr. Brooks was so + entirely my own, that when further residence in Germany and a more careful study of + both parts of <i>Faust</i> had satisfied me that the field was still open,—that + the means furnished by the poetical affinity of the two languages had not yet been + exhausted,—nothing remained for me but to follow him in all essential + particulars. His example confirmed me in the belief that there were few difficulties + in the way of a nearly literal yet thoroughly rhythmical version of <i>Faust</i>, + which might not be overcome by loving labor. A comparison of seventeen English + translations, in the arbitrary metres adopted by the translators, sufficiently showed + the danger of allowing license in this respect: the white light of Goethe's thought + was thereby passed through the tinted glass of other minds, and assumed the coloring + of each. Moreover, the plea of selecting different metres in the hope of producing a + similar effect is unreasonable, where the identical metres are possible.</p> + <p>The value of form, in a poetical work, is the first question to be considered. No + poet ever understood this question more thoroughly than Goethe himself, or expressed + a more positive opinion in regard to it. The alternative modes of translation which + he presents (reported by Riemer, quoted by Mrs. Austin, in her "Characteristics of + Goethe," and accepted by Mr. Hayward),<a name="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a + href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> are quite independent of his views + concerning the value of form, which we find given elsewhere, in the clearest and most + emphatic manner.<a name="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" + class="fnanchor">[B]</a> Poetry is not simply a fashion of expression: it is the form + of expression absolutely required by a certain class of ideas. Poetry, indeed, may be + distinguished from Prose by the single circumstance, that it is the utterance of + whatever in man cannot be perfectly uttered in any other than a rhythmical form: it + is useless to say that the naked meaning is independent of the form: on the contrary, + the form contributes essentially to the fullness of the meaning. In Poetry which + endures through its own inherent vitality, there is no forced union of these two + elements. They are as intimately blended, and with the same mysterious beauty, as the + sexes in the ancient Hermaphroditus. To attempt to represent Poetry in Prose, is very + much like attempting to translate music into speech.<a name="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a></p> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span + class="label">[A]</span></a> "'There are two maxims of translation,' says he: 'the + one requires that the author, of a foreign nation, be brought to us in such a + manner that we may regard him as our own; the other, on the contrary, demands of us + that we transport ourselves over to him, and adopt his situation, his mode of + speaking, and his peculiarities. The advantages of both are sufficiently known to + all instructed persons, from masterly examples.'" Is it necessary, however, that + there should always be this alternative? Where the languages are kindred, and + equally capable of all varieties of metrical expression, may not both these + "maxims" be observed in the same translation? Goethe, it is true, was of the + opinion that <i>Faust</i> ought to be given, in French, in the manner of Clement + Marot; but this was undoubtedly because he felt the inadequacy of modern French to + express the naive, simple realism of many passages. The same objection does not + apply to English. There are a few archaic expressions in <i>Faust</i>, but no more + than are still allowed—nay, frequently encouraged—in the English of our + day.</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span + class="label">[B]</span></a> "You are right," said Goethe; "there are great and + mysterious agencies included in the various forms of Poetry. If the substance of my + 'Roman Elegies' were to be expressed in the tone and measure of Byron's 'Don Juan,' + it would really have an atrocious effect."—<i>Eckermann</i>.</p> + <p>"The rhythm," said Goethe, "is an unconscious result of the poetic mood. If one + should stop to consider it mechanically, when about to write a poem, one would + become bewildered and accomplish nothing of real poetical + value."—<i>Ibid</i>.</p> + <p>"<i>All that is poetic in character should be rythmically treated</i>! Such is + my conviction; and if even a sort of poetic prose should be gradually introduced, + it would only show that the distinction between prose and poetry had been + completely lost sight of."—<i>Goethe to Schiller</i>, 1797.</p> + <p>Tycho Mommsen, in his excellent essay, <i>Die Kunst des Deutschen Uebersetzers + aus neueren Sprachen</i>, goes so far as to say: "The metrical or rhymed modelling + of a poetical work is so essentially the germ of its being, that, rather than by + giving it up, we might hope to construct a similar work of art before the eyes of + our countrymen, by giving up or changing the substance. The immeasurable result + which has followed works wherein the form has been retained—such as the Homer + of Voss, and the Shakespeare of Tieck and Schlegel—is an incontrovertible + evidence of the vitality of the endeavor."</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span + class="label">[C]</span></a> "Goethe's poems exercise a great sway over me, not + only by their meaning, but also by their rhythm. It is a language which stimulates + me to composition."—<i>Beethoven</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>The various theories of translation from the Greek and Latin poets have been + admirably stated by Dryden in his Preface to the "Translations from Ovid's Epistles," + and I do not wish to continue the endless discussion,—especially as our + literature needs examples, not opinions. A recent expression, however, carries with + it so much authority, that I feel bound to present some considerations which the + accomplished scholar seems to have overlooked. Mr. Lewes<a name="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a> justly says: + "The effect of poetry is a compound of music and suggestion; this music and this + suggestion are intermingled in words, which to alter is to alter the effect. For + words in poetry are not, as in prose, simple representatives of objects and ideas: + they are parts of an organic whole,—they are tones in the harmony." He + thereupon illustrates the effect of translation by changing certain well-known + English stanzas into others, equivalent in meaning, but lacking their felicity of + words, their grace and melody. I cannot accept this illustration as valid, because + Mr. Lewes purposely omits the very quality which an honest translator should exhaust + his skill in endeavoring to reproduce. He turns away from the <i>one best</i> word or + phrase in the English lines he quotes, whereas the translator seeks precisely that + one best word or phrase (having <i>all</i> the resources of his language at command), + to represent what is said in <i>another</i> language. More than this, his task is not + simply mechanical: he must feel, and be guided by, a secondary inspiration. + Surrendering himself to the full possession of the spirit which shall speak through + him, he receives, also, a portion of the same creative power. Mr. Lewes reaches this + conclusion: "If, therefore, we reflect what a poem <i>Faust</i> is, and that it + contains almost every variety of style and metre, it will be tolerably evident that + no one unacquainted with the original can form an adequate idea of it from + translation,"<a name="FNanchor_E_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_5" + class="fnanchor">[E]</a> which is certainly correct of any translation wherein + something of the rhythmical variety and beauty of the original is not retained. That + very much of the rhythmical character may be retained in English, was long ago shown + by Mr. Carlyle,<a name="FNanchor_F_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_6" + class="fnanchor">[F]</a> in the passages which he translated, both literally and + rhythmically, from the <i>Helena</i> (Part Second). In fact, we have so many + instances of the possibility of reciprocally transferring the finest qualities of + English and German poetry, that there is no sufficient excuse for an unmetrical + translation of <i>Faust</i>. I refer especially to such subtile and melodious lyrics + as "The Castle by the Sea," of Uhland, and the "Silent Land" of Salis, translated by + Mr. Longfellow; Goethe's "Minstrel" and "Coptic Song," by Dr. Hedge; Heine's "Two + Grenadiers," by Dr. Furness and many of Heine's songs by Mr Leland; and also to the + German translations of English lyrics, by Freiligrath and Strodtmann.<a + name="FNanchor_G_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_7" + class="fnanchor">[G]</a></p> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4"><span + class="label">[D]</span></a> Life of Goethe (Book VI.).</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_E_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_5"><span + class="label">[E]</span></a> Mr. Lewes gives the following advice: "The English + reader would perhaps best succeed who should first read Dr. Anster's brilliant + paraphrase, and then carefully go through Hayward's prose translation." This is + singularly at variance with the view he has just expressed. Dr. Anster's version is + an almost incredible dilution of the original, written in <i>other</i> metres; + while Hayward's entirely omits the element of poetry.</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_F_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_6"><span + class="label">[F]</span></a> Foreign Review, 1828.</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_G_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_7"><span + class="label">[G]</span></a> When Freiligrath can thus give us Walter + Scott:—</p> + <p><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">"Kommt, wie der Wind kommt,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Wenn Wälder erzittern</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Kommt, wie die Brandung</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Wenn Flotten zersplittern!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Schnell heran, schnell herab,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Schneller kommt Al'e!—</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Häuptling und Bub' und Knapp,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Herr und Vasalle!"</span><br/> + </p> + <br/> + <br/> + + <p>or Strodtmann thus reproduce Tennyson:—</p> + <p><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"Es fällt der Strahl auf Burg und + Thal,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Und schneeige Gipfel, reich an + Sagen;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Viel' Lichter wehn auf blauen Seen,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Bergab die Wasserstürze jagen!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Blas, Hüfthorn, blas, in Wiederhall + erschallend:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Blas, Horn—antwortet, Echos, hallend, + hallend, hallend!"</span><br/> + </p> + <br/> + <br/> + + <p>—it must be a dull ear which would be satisfied with the omission of + rhythm and rhyme.</p> + </div> + <p>I have a more serious objection, however, to urge against Mr. Hayward's prose + translation. Where all the restraints of verse are flung aside, we should expect, at + least, as accurate a reproduction of the sense, spirit, and tone of the original, as + the genius of our language will permit. So far from having given us such a + reproduction, Mr. Hayward not only occasionally mistakes the exact meaning of the + German text,<a name="FNanchor_H_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_H_8" + class="fnanchor">[H]</a> but, wherever two phrases may be used to express the meaning + with equal fidelity, he very frequently selects that which has the less grace, + strength, or beauty.<a name="FNanchor_I_9"></a><a + href="#Footnote_I_9" class="fnanchor">[I]</a></p> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_H_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_H_8"><span + class="label">[H]</span></a> On his second page, the line <i>Mein Lied ertönt + der unbekannten Menge</i>, "My song sounds to the unknown multitude," is + translated: "My <i>sorrow</i> voices itself to the strange throng." Other English + translators, I notice, have followed Mr. Hayward in mistaking <i>Lied</i> for + <i>Leid</i>.</p> + </div> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_I_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_I_9"><span + class="label">[I]</span></a> I take but one out of numerous instances, for the sake + of illustration. The close of the Soldier's Song (Part I. Scene II.) is:—</p> + <p><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">"Kühn is das Mühen,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Herrlich der Lohn!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Und die Soldaten</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ziehen davon."</span><br/> + </p> + <br/> + <br/> + + <p>Literally:</p> + <p><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Bold is the endeavor,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Splendid the pay!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And the soldiers</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">March away.</span><br/> + </p> + <br/> + <br/> + + <p>This Mr. Hayward translates:—</p> + <p><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Bold the adventure,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Noble the reward—</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And the soldiers</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Are off.</span><br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>For there are few things which may not be said, in English, in a twofold + manner,—one poetic, and the other prosaic. In German, equally, a word which in + ordinary use has a bare prosaic character may receive a fairer and finer quality from + its place in verse. The prose translator should certainly be able to feel the + manifestation of this law in both languages, and should so choose his words as to + meet their reciprocal requirements. A man, however, who is not keenly sensible to the + power and beauty and value of rhythm, is likely to overlook these delicate yet most + necessary distinctions. The author's thought is stripped of a last grace in passing + through his mind, and frequently presents very much the same resemblance to the + original as an unhewn shaft to the fluted column. Mr. Hayward unconsciously + illustrates his lack of a refined appreciation of verse, "in giving," as he says, + "<i>a sort of rhythmical arrangement</i> to the lyrical parts," his object being "to + convey some notion of the variety of versification which forms one great charm of the + poem." A literal translation is always possible in the unrhymed passages; but even + here Mr. Hayward's ear did not dictate to him the necessity of preserving the + original rhythm.</p> + <p>While, therefore, I heartily recognize his lofty appreciation of + <i>Faust</i>,—while I honor him for the patient and conscientious labor he has + bestowed upon his translation,—I cannot but feel that he has himself + illustrated the unsoundness of his argument. Nevertheless, the circumstance that his + prose translation of <i>Faust</i> has received so much acceptance proves those + qualities of the original work which cannot be destroyed by a test so violent. From + the cold bare outline thus produced, the reader unacquainted with the German language + would scarcely guess what glow of color, what richness of changeful life, what fluent + grace and energy of movement have been lost in the process. We must, of course, + gratefully receive such an outline, where a nearer approach to the form of the + original is impossible, but, until the latter has been demonstrated, we are wrong to + remain content with the cheaper substitute.</p> + <p>It seems to me that in all discussions upon this subject the capacities of the + English language have received but scanty justice. The intellectual tendencies of our + race have always been somewhat conservative, and its standards of literary taste or + belief, once set up, are not varied without a struggle. The English ear is suspicious + of new metres and unaccustomed forms of expression: there are critical detectives on + the track of every author, and a violation of the accepted canons is followed by a + summons to judgment. Thus the tendency is to contract rather than to expand the + acknowledged excellences of the language.<a name="FNanchor_J_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_J_10" class="fnanchor">[J]</a></p> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_J_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_J_10"><span + class="label">[J]</span></a> I cannot resist the temptation of quoting the + following passage from Jacob Grimm: "No one of all the modern languages has + acquired a greater force and strength than the English, through the derangement and + relinquishment of its ancient laws of sound. The unteachable (nevertheless + <i>learnable</i>) profusion of its middle-tones has conferred upon it an intrinsic + power of expression, such as no other human tongue ever possessed. Its entire, + thoroughly intellectual and wonderfully successful foundation and perfected + development issued from a marvelous union of the two noblest tongues of Europe, the + Germanic and the Romanic. Their mutual relation in the English language is well + known, since the former furnished chiefly the material basis, while the latter + added the intellectual conceptions. The English language, by and through which the + greatest and most eminent poet of modern times—as contrasted with ancient + classical poetry—(of course I can refer only to Shakespeare) was begotten and + nourished, has a just claim to be called a language of the world; and it appears to + be destined, like the English race, to a higher and broader sway in all quarters of + the earth. For in richness, in compact adjustment of parts, and in pure + intelligence, none of the living languages can be compared with it,—not even + our German, which is divided even as we are divided, and which must cast off many + imperfections before it can boldly enter on its career."—<i>Ueber den + Ursprung der Sprache</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>The difficulties in the way of a nearly literal translation of <i>Faust</i> in the + original metres have been exaggerated, because certain affinities between the two + languages have not been properly considered. With all the splendor of versification + in the work, it contains but few metres of which the English tongue is not equally + capable. Hood has familiarized us with dactylic (triple) rhymes, and they are + remarkably abundant and skillful in Mr. Lowell's "Fable for the Critics": even the + unrhymed iambic hexameter of the <i>Helena</i> occurs now and then in Milton's + <i>Samson Agonistes</i>. It is true that the metrical foot into which the German + language most naturally falls is the <i>trochaic</i>, while in English it is the + <i>iambic</i>: it is true that German is rich, involved, and tolerant of new + combinations, while English is simple, direct, and rather shy of compounds; but + precisely these differences are so modified in the German of <i>Faust</i> that there + is a mutual approach of the two languages. In <i>Faust</i>, the iambic measure + predominates; the style is compact; the many licenses which the author allows himself + are all directed towards a shorter mode of construction. On the other hand, English + metre compels the use of inversions, admits many verbal liberties prohibited to + prose, and so inclines towards various flexible features of its sister-tongue that + many lines of <i>Faust</i> may be repeated in English without the slightest change of + meaning, measure, or rhyme. There are words, it is true, with so delicate a bloom + upon them that it can in no wise be preserved; but even such words will always lose + less when they carry with them their rhythmical atmosphere. The flow of Goethe's + verse is sometimes so similar to that of the corresponding English metre, that not + only its harmonies and caesural pauses, but even its punctuation, may be easily + retained.</p> + <p>I am satisfied that the difference between a translation of <i>Faust</i> in prose + or metre is chiefly one of labor,—and of that labor which is successful in + proportion as it is joyously performed. My own task has been cheered by the + discovery, that the more closely I reproduced the language of the original, the more + of its rhythmical character was transferred at the same time. If, now and then, there + was an inevitable alternative of meaning or music, I gave the preference to the + former. By the term "original metres" I do not mean a rigid, unyielding adherence to + every foot, line, and rhyme of the German original, although this has very nearly + been accomplished. Since the greater part of the work is written in an irregular + measure, the lines varying from three to six feet, and the rhymes arranged according + to the author's will, I do not consider that an occasional change in the number of + feet, or order of rhyme, is any violation of the metrical plan. The single slight + liberty I have taken with the lyrical passages is in Margaret's song,—"The King + of Thule,"—in which, by omitting the alternate feminine rhymes, yet retaining + the metre, I was enabled to make the translation strictly literal. If, in two or + three instances, I have left a line unrhymed, I have balanced the omission by giving + rhymes to other lines which stand unrhymed in the original text. For the same reason, + I make no apology for the imperfect rhymes, which are frequently a translation as + well as a necessity. With all its supreme qualities, <i>Faust</i> is far from being a + technically perfect work.<a name="FNanchor_K_11"></a><a + href="#Footnote_K_11" class="fnanchor">[K]</a></p> + <div class="footnote"> + <p><a name="Footnote_K_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_K_11"><span + class="label">[K]</span></a> "At present, everything runs in technical grooves, and + the critical gentlemen begin to wrangle whether in a rhyme an <i>s</i> should + correspond with an <i>s</i> and not with <i>sz</i>. If I were young and reckless + enough, I would purposely offend all such technical caprices: I would use + alliteration, assonance, false rhyme, just according to my own will or + convenience—but, at the same time, I would attend to the main thing, and + endeavor to say so many good things that every one would be attracted to read and + remember them."—<i>Goethe</i>, in 1831.</p> + </div> + <p>The feminine and dactylic rhymes, which have been for the most part omitted by all + metrical translators except Mr. Brooks, are indispensable. The characteristic tone of + many passages would be nearly lost, without them. They give spirit and grace to the + dialogue, point to the aphoristic portions (especially in the Second Part), and an + ever-changing music to the lyrical passages. The English language, though not so rich + as the German in such rhymes, is less deficient than is generally supposed. The + difficulty to be overcome is one of construction rather than of the vocabulary. The + present participle can only be used to a limited extent, on account of its weak + termination, and the want of an accusative form to the noun also restricts the + arrangement of words in English verse. I cannot hope to have been always successful; + but I have at least labored long and patiently, bearing constantly in mind not only + the meaning of the original and the mechanical structure of the lines, but also that + subtile and haunting music which seems to govern rhythm instead of being governed by + it.</p> + <p>B.T.</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-022.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="AN_GOETHE"></a>AN GOETHE</h2> + <p><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 8em;">I</span><br/> + <br/> + <i>Erhabener Geist, im Geisterreich verloren!</i><br/> + Wo immer Deine lichte Wohnung sey,<br/> + Zum höh'ren Schaffen bist Du neugeboren,<br/> + Und singest dort die voll're Litanei.<br/> + Von jenem Streben das Du auserkoren,<br/> + Vom reinsten Aether, drin Du athmest frei,<br/> + O neige Dich zu gnädigem Erwiedern<br/> + Des letzten Wiederhalls von Deinen Liedern!<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 8em;">II</span><br/> + <br/> + <i>Den alten Musen die bestäubten Kronen<br/> + Nahmst Du, zu neuem Glanz, mit kühner Hand:<br/> + Du löst die Räthsel ältester Aeonen<br/> + Durch jüngeren Glauben, helleren Verstand,<br/> + Und machst, wo rege Menschengeister wohnen,<br/> + Die ganze Erde Dir zum Vaterland;<br/> + Und Deine Jünger sehn in Dir, verwundert,<br/> + Verkörpert schon das werdende Jahrhundert</i>.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 8em;">III</span><br/> + <br/> + <i>Was Du gesungen, Aller Lust und Klagen,<br/> + Des Lebens Wiedersprüche, neu vermählt,—<br/> + Die Harfe tausendstimmig frisch geschlagen,<br/> + Die Shakspeare einst, die einst Homer gewählt,—<br/> + Darf ich in fremde Klänge übertragen<br/> + Das Alles, wo so Mancher schon gefehlt?<br/> + Lass Deinen Geist in meiner Stimme klingen,<br/> + Und was Du sangst, lass mich es Dir nachsingen!</i><br/> + </p> + <p>B.T.</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-024.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-025.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="DEDICATION"></a>DEDICATION</h2> + <p>Again ye come, ye hovering Forms! I find ye,<br/> + As early to my clouded sight ye shone!<br/> + Shall I attempt, this once, to seize and bind ye?<br/> + Still o'er my heart is that illusion thrown?<br/> + Ye crowd more near! Then, be the reign assigned ye,<br/> + And sway me from your misty, shadowy zone!<br/> + My bosom thrills, with youthful passion shaken,<br/> + From magic airs that round your march awaken.<br/> + <br/> + Of joyous days ye bring the blissful vision;<br/> + The dear, familiar phantoms rise again,<br/> + And, like an old and half-extinct tradition,<br/> + First Love returns, with Friendship in his train.<br/> + Renewed is Pain: with mournful repetition<br/> + Life tracks his devious, labyrinthine chain,<br/> + And names the Good, whose cheating fortune tore them<br/> + From happy hours, and left me to deplore them.<br/> + <br/> + They hear no longer these succeeding measures,<br/> + The souls, to whom my earliest songs I sang:<br/> + <br/> + Dispersed the friendly troop, with all its pleasures,<br/> + And still, alas! the echoes first that rang!<br/> + I bring the unknown multitude my treasures;<br/> + Their very plaudits give my heart a pang,<br/> + And those beside, whose joy my Song so flattered,<br/> + If still they live, wide through the world are scattered.<br/> + <br/> + And grasps me now a long-unwonted yearning<br/> + For that serene and solemn Spirit-Land:<br/> + My song, to faint Aeolian murmurs turning,<br/> + Sways like a harp-string by the breezes fanned.<br/> + I thrill and tremble; tear on tear is burning,<br/> + And the stern heart is tenderly unmanned.<br/> + What I possess, I see far distant lying,<br/> + And what I lost, grows real and undying.<br/> + </p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-026.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-027.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="PRELUDE_AT_THE_THEATRE"></a>PRELUDE AT THE + THEATRE</h2> + + <p>MANAGER ==== DRAMATIC POET ==== MERRY-ANDREW<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + MANAGER<br/> + <br/> + You two, who oft a helping hand<br/> + Have lent, in need and tribulation.<br/> + Come, let me know your expectation<br/> + Of this, our enterprise, in German land!<br/> + I wish the crowd to feel itself well treated,<br/> + Especially since it lives and lets me live;<br/> + The posts are set, the booth of boards completed.<br/> + And each awaits the banquet I shall give.<br/> + Already there, with curious eyebrows raised,<br/> + They sit sedate, and hope to be amazed.<br/> + I know how one the People's taste may flatter,<br/> + Yet here a huge embarrassment I feel:<br/> + What they're accustomed to, is no great matter,<br/> + But then, alas! they've read an awful deal.<br/> + How shall we plan, that all be fresh and new,—<br/> + Important matter, yet attractive too?<br/> + For 'tis my pleasure-to behold them surging,<br/> + When to our booth the current sets apace,<br/> + And with tremendous, oft-repeated urging,<br/> + Squeeze onward through the narrow gate of grace:<br/> + By daylight even, they push and cram in<br/> + To reach the seller's box, a fighting host,<br/> + And as for bread, around a baker's door, in famine,<br/> + To get a ticket break their necks almost.<br/> + This miracle alone can work the Poet<br/> + On men so various: now, my friend, pray show it.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + POET<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + Speak not to me of yonder motley masses,<br/> + Whom but to see, puts out the fire of Song!<br/> + Hide from my view the surging crowd that passes,<br/> + And in its whirlpool forces us along!<br/> + No, lead me where some heavenly silence glasses<br/> + The purer joys that round the Poet throng,—<br/> + Where Love and Friendship still divinely fashion<br/> + The bonds that bless, the wreaths that crown his passion!<br/> + Ah, every utterance from the depths of feeling<br/> + The timid lips have stammeringly expressed,—<br/> + Now failing, now, perchance, success revealing,—<br/> + Gulps the wild Moment in its greedy breast;<br/> + Or oft, reluctant years its warrant sealing,<br/> + Its perfect stature stands at last confessed!<br/> + What dazzles, for the Moment spends its spirit:<br/> + What's genuine, shall Posterity inherit.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + MERRY-ANDREW<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + Posterity! Don't name the word to me!<br/> + If <i>I</i> should choose to preach Posterity,<br/> + Where would you get contemporary fun?<br/> + That men <i>will</i> have it, there's no blinking:<br/> + A fine young fellow's presence, to my thinking,<br/> + Is something worth, to every one.<br/> + Who genially his nature can outpour,<br/> + Takes from the People's moods no irritation;<br/> + The wider circle he acquires, the more<br/> + Securely works his inspiration.<br/> + Then pluck up heart, and give us sterling coin!<br/> + Let Fancy be with her attendants fitted,—<br/> + Sense, Reason, Sentiment, and Passion join,—<br/> + But have a care, lest Folly be omitted!<br/> + <br/> + MANAGER<br/> + <br/> + Chiefly, enough of incident prepare!<br/> + They come to look, and they prefer to stare.<br/> + Reel off a host of threads before their faces,<br/> + So that they gape in stupid wonder: then<br/> + By sheer diffuseness you have won their graces,<br/> + And are, at once, most popular of men.<br/> + Only by mass you touch the mass; for any<br/> + Will finally, himself, his bit select:<br/> + Who offers much, brings something unto many,<br/> + And each goes home content with the effect,<br/> + If you've a piece, why, just in pieces give it:<br/> + A hash, a stew, will bring success, believe it!<br/> + 'Tis easily displayed, and easy to invent.<br/> + What use, a Whole compactly to present?<br/> + Your hearers pick and pluck, as soon as they receive it!<br/> + <br/> + POET<br/> + <br/> + You do not feel, how such a trade debases;<br/> + How ill it suits the Artist, proud and true!<br/> + The botching work each fine pretender traces<br/> + Is, I perceive, a principle with you.<br/> + <br/> + MANAGER<br/> + <br/> + Such a reproach not in the least offends;<br/> + A man who some result intends<br/> + Must use the tools that best are fitting.<br/> + Reflect, soft wood is given to you for splitting,<br/> + And then, observe for whom you write!<br/> + If one comes bored, exhausted quite,<br/> + Another, satiate, leaves the banquet's tapers,<br/> + And, worst of all, full many a wight<br/> + Is fresh from reading of the daily papers.<br/> + Idly to us they come, as to a masquerade,<br/> + Mere curiosity their spirits warming:<br/> + The ladies with themselves, and with their finery, aid,<br/> + Without a salary their parts performing.<br/> + What dreams are yours in high poetic places?<br/> + You're pleased, forsooth, full houses to behold?<br/> + Draw near, and view your patrons' faces!<br/> + The half are coarse, the half are cold.<br/> + One, when the play is out, goes home to cards;<br/> + A wild night on a wench's breast another chooses:<br/> + Why should you rack, poor, foolish bards,<br/> + For ends like these, the gracious Muses?<br/> + I tell you, give but more—more, ever more, they ask:<br/> + Thus shall you hit the mark of gain and glory.<br/> + Seek to confound your auditory!<br/> + To satisfy them is a task.—<br/> + What ails you now? Is't suffering, or pleasure?<br/> + <br/> + POET<br/> + <br/> + Go, find yourself a more obedient slave!<br/> + What! shall the Poet that which Nature gave,<br/> + The highest right, supreme Humanity,<br/> + Forfeit so wantonly, to swell your treasure?<br/> + Whence o'er the heart his empire free?<br/> + The elements of Life how conquers he?<br/> + Is't not his heart's accord, urged outward far and dim,<br/> + To wind the world in unison with him?<br/> + When on the spindle, spun to endless distance,<br/> + By Nature's listless hand the thread is twirled,<br/> + And the discordant tones of all existence<br/> + In sullen jangle are together hurled,<br/> + Who, then, the changeless orders of creation<br/> + Divides, and kindles into rhythmic dance?<br/> + Who brings the One to join the general ordination,<br/> + Where it may throb in grandest consonance?<br/> + Who bids the storm to passion stir the bosom?<br/> + In brooding souls the sunset burn above?<br/> + Who scatters every fairest April blossom<br/> + Along the shining path of Love?<br/> + Who braids the noteless leaves to crowns, requiting<br/> + Desert with fame, in Action's every field?<br/> + Who makes Olympus sure, the Gods uniting?<br/> + The might of Man, as in the Bard revealed.<br/> + <br/> + MERRY-ANDREW<br/> + <br/> + So, these fine forces, in conjunction,<br/> + Propel the high poetic function,<br/> + As in a love-adventure they might play!<br/> + You meet by accident; you feel, you stay,<br/> + And by degrees your heart is tangled;<br/> + Bliss grows apace, and then its course is jangled;<br/> + You're ravished quite, then comes a touch of woe,<br/> + And there's a neat romance, completed ere you know!<br/> + Let us, then, such a drama give!<br/> + Grasp the exhaustless life that all men live!<br/> + Each shares therein, though few may comprehend:<br/> + Where'er you touch, there's interest without end.<br/> + In motley pictures little light,<br/> + Much error, and of truth a glimmering mite,<br/> + Thus the best beverage is supplied,<br/> + Whence all the world is cheered and edified.<br/> + Then, at your play, behold the fairest flower<br/> + Of youth collect, to hear the revelation!<br/> + Each tender soul, with sentimental power,<br/> + Sucks melancholy food from your creation;<br/> + And now in this, now that, the leaven works.<br/> + For each beholds what in his bosom lurks.<br/> + They still are moved at once to weeping or to laughter,<br/> + Still wonder at your flights, enjoy the show they see:<br/> + A mind, once formed, is never suited after;<br/> + One yet in growth will ever grateful be.<br/> + <br/> + POET<br/> + <br/> + Then give me back that time of pleasures,<br/> + While yet in joyous growth I sang,—<br/> + When, like a fount, the crowding measures<br/> + Uninterrupted gushed and sprang!<br/> + Then bright mist veiled the world before me,<br/> + In opening buds a marvel woke,<br/> + As I the thousand blossoms broke,<br/> + Which every valley richly bore me!<br/> + I nothing had, and yet enough for youth—<br/> + Joy in Illusion, ardent thirst for Truth.<br/> + Give, unrestrained, the old emotion,<br/> + The bliss that touched the verge of pain,<br/> + The strength of Hate, Love's deep devotion,—<br/> + O, give me back my youth again!<br/> + <br/> + MERRY ANDREW<br/> + <br/> + Youth, good my friend, you certainly require<br/> + When foes in combat sorely press you;<br/> + When lovely maids, in fond desire,<br/> + Hang on your bosom and caress you;<br/> + When from the hard-won goal the wreath<br/> + Beckons afar, the race awaiting;<br/> + When, after dancing out your breath,<br/> + You pass the night in dissipating:—<br/> + But that familiar harp with soul<br/> + To play,—with grace and bold expression,<br/> + And towards a self-erected goal<br/> + To walk with many a sweet digression,—<br/> + This, aged Sirs, belongs to you,<br/> + And we no less revere you for that reason:<br/> + Age childish makes, they say, but 'tis not true;<br/> + We're only genuine children still, in Age's season!<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + MANAGER<br/> + <br/> + The words you've bandied are sufficient;<br/> + 'Tis deeds that I prefer to see:<br/> + In compliments you're both proficient,<br/> + But might, the while, more useful be.<br/> + What need to talk of Inspiration?<br/> + 'Tis no companion of Delay.<br/> + If Poetry be your vocation,<br/> + Let Poetry your will obey!<br/> + Full well you know what here is wanting;<br/> + The crowd for strongest drink is panting,<br/> + And such, forthwith, I'd have you brew.<br/> + What's left undone to-day, To-morrow will not do.<br/> + Waste not a day in vain digression:<br/> + With resolute, courageous trust<br/> + Seize every possible impression,<br/> + And make it firmly your possession;<br/> + You'll then work on, because you must.<br/> + Upon our German stage, you know it,<br/> + Each tries his hand at what he will;<br/> + So, take of traps and scenes your fill,<br/> + And all you find, be sure to show it!<br/> + Use both the great and lesser heavenly light,—<br/> + Squander the stars in any number,<br/> + Beasts, birds, trees, rocks, and all such lumber,<br/> + Fire, water, darkness, Day and Night!<br/> + Thus, in our booth's contracted sphere,<br/> + The circle of Creation will appear,<br/> + And move, as we deliberately impel,<br/> + From Heaven, across the World, to Hell!<br/> + </p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-034.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-035.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + + <h2><a name="PROLOGUE_IN_HEAVEN"></a>PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN</h2> + +<p> + THE LORD === THE HEAVENLY HOST <br/> + <i>Afterwards</i><br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + (<i>The</i> THREE ARCHANGELS <i>come forward</i>.)<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + RAPHAEL<br/> + <br/> + The sun-orb sings, in emulation,<br/> + 'Mid brother-spheres, his ancient round:<br/> + His path predestined through Creation<br/> + He ends with step of thunder-sound.<br/> + The angels from his visage splendid<br/> + Draw power, whose measure none can say;<br/> + The lofty works, uncomprehended,<br/> + Are bright as on the earliest day.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + GABRIEL<br/> + <br/> + And swift, and swift beyond conceiving,<br/> + The splendor of the world goes round,<br/> + Day's Eden-brightness still relieving<br/> + The awful Night's intense profound:<br/> + The ocean-tides in foam are breaking,<br/> + Against the rocks' deep bases hurled,<br/> + And both, the spheric race partaking,<br/> + Eternal, swift, are onward whirled!<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + MICHAEL<br/> + <br/> + And rival storms abroad are surging<br/> + From sea to land, from land to sea.<br/> + A chain of deepest action forging<br/> + Round all, in wrathful energy.<br/> + There flames a desolation, blazing<br/> + Before the Thunder's crashing way:<br/> + Yet, Lord, Thy messengers are praising<br/> + The gentle movement of Thy Day.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + THE THREE<br/> + <br/> + Though still by them uncomprehended,<br/> + From these the angels draw their power,<br/> + And all Thy works, sublime and splendid,<br/> + Are bright as in Creation's hour.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Since Thou, O Lord, deign'st to approach again<br/> + And ask us how we do, in manner kindest,<br/> + And heretofore to meet myself wert fain,<br/> + Among Thy menials, now, my face Thou findest.<br/> + Pardon, this troop I cannot follow after<br/> + With lofty speech, though by them scorned and spurned:<br/> + My pathos certainly would move Thy laughter,<br/> + If Thou hadst not all merriment unlearned.<br/> + Of suns and worlds I've nothing to be quoted;<br/> + How men torment themselves, is all I've noted.<br/> + The little god o' the world sticks to the same old way,<br/> + And is as whimsical as on Creation's day.<br/> + Life somewhat better might content him,<br/> + But for the gleam of heavenly light which Thou hast lent him:<br/> + He calls it Reason—thence his power's increased,<br/> + To be far beastlier than any beast.<br/> + Saving Thy Gracious Presence, he to me<br/> + A long-legged grasshopper appears to be,<br/> + That springing flies, and flying springs,<br/> + And in the grass the same old ditty sings.<br/> + Would he still lay among the grass he grows in!<br/> + Each bit of dung he seeks, to stick his nose in.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + THE LORD<br/> + <br/> + Hast thou, then, nothing more to mention?<br/> + Com'st ever, thus, with ill intention?<br/> + Find'st nothing right on earth, eternally?<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + No, Lord! I find things, there, still bad as they can be.<br/> + Man's misery even to pity moves my nature;<br/> + I've scarce the heart to plague the wretched creature.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + THE LORD<br/> + <br/> + Know'st Faust?<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + The Doctor Faust?<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + THE LORD<br/> + <br/> + My servant, he!<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Forsooth! He serves you after strange devices:<br/> + No earthly meat or drink the fool suffices:<br/> + His spirit's ferment far aspireth;<br/> + Half conscious of his frenzied, crazed unrest,<br/> + The fairest stars from Heaven he requireth,<br/> + From Earth the highest raptures and the best,<br/> + And all the Near and Far that he desireth<br/> + Fails to subdue the tumult of his breast.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + THE LORD<br/> + <br/> + Though still confused his service unto Me,<br/> + I soon shall lead him to a clearer morning.<br/> + Sees not the gardener, even while buds his tree,<br/> + Both flower and fruit the future years adorning?<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + What will you bet? There's still a chance to gain him,<br/> + If unto me full leave you give,<br/> + Gently upon <i>my</i> road to train him!<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + THE LORD<br/> + <br/> + As long as he on earth shall live,<br/> + So long I make no prohibition.<br/> + While Man's desires and aspirations stir,<br/> + He cannot choose but err.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + My thanks! I find the dead no acquisition,<br/> + And never cared to have them in my keeping.<br/> + I much prefer the cheeks where ruddy blood is leaping,<br/> + And when a corpse approaches, close my house:<br/> + It goes with me, as with the cat the mouse.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + THE LORD<br/> + <br/> + Enough! What thou hast asked is granted.<br/> + Turn off this spirit from his fountain-head;<br/> + To trap him, let thy snares be planted,<br/> + And him, with thee, be downward led;<br/> + Then stand abashed, when thou art forced to say:<br/> + A good man, through obscurest aspiration,<br/> + Has still an instinct of the one true way.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Agreed! But 'tis a short probation.<br/> + About my bet I feel no trepidation.<br/> + If I fulfill my expectation,<br/> + You'll let me triumph with a swelling breast:<br/> + Dust shall he eat, and with a zest,<br/> + As did a certain snake, my near relation.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + THE LORD<br/> + <br/> + Therein thou'rt free, according to thy merits;<br/> + The like of thee have never moved My hate.<br/> + Of all the bold, denying Spirits,<br/> + The waggish knave least trouble doth create.<br/> + Man's active nature, flagging, seeks too soon the level;<br/> + Unqualified repose he learns to crave;<br/> + Whence, willingly, the comrade him I gave,<br/> + Who works, excites, and must create, as Devil.<br/> + But ye, God's sons in love and duty,<br/> + Enjoy the rich, the ever-living Beauty!<br/> + Creative Power, that works eternal schemes,<br/> + Clasp you in bonds of love, relaxing never,<br/> + And what in wavering apparition gleams<br/> + Fix in its place with thoughts that stand forever!<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + (<i>Heaven closes: the</i> ARCHANGELS <i>separate</i>.)<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>solus</i>)<br/> + <br/> + I like, at times, to hear The Ancient's word,<br/> + And have a care to be most civil:<br/> + It's really kind of such a noble Lord<br/> + So humanly to gossip with the Devil!<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + <br/> +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-040.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-041.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<h2>FIRST PART OF THE TRAGEDY</h2> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="I"></a>I</h2> + +<p> + NIGHT<br/> + <br/> + (<i>A lofty-arched, narrow, Gothic chamber</i>. FAUST, <i>in a chair at his<br/> + desk, restless</i>.)<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + I've studied now Philosophy<br/> + And Jurisprudence, Medicine,—<br/> + And even, alas! Theology,—<br/> + From end to end, with labor keen;<br/> + And here, poor fool! with all my lore<br/> + I stand, no wiser than before:<br/> + I'm Magister—yea, Doctor—hight,<br/> + And straight or cross-wise, wrong or right,<br/> + These ten years long, with many woes,<br/> + I've led my scholars by the nose,—<br/> + And see, that nothing can be known!<br/> + <i>That</i> knowledge cuts me to the bone.<br/> + I'm cleverer, true, than those fops of teachers,<br/> + Doctors and Magisters, Scribes and Preachers;<br/> + Neither scruples nor doubts come now to smite me,<br/> + Nor Hell nor Devil can longer affright me.<br/> + <br/> + For this, all pleasure am I foregoing;<br/> + I do not pretend to aught worth knowing,<br/> + I do not pretend I could be a teacher<br/> + To help or convert a fellow-creature.<br/> + Then, too, I've neither lands nor gold,<br/> + Nor the world's least pomp or honor hold—<br/> + No dog would endure such a curst existence!<br/> + Wherefore, from Magic I seek assistance,<br/> + That many a secret perchance I reach<br/> + Through spirit-power and spirit-speech,<br/> + And thus the bitter task forego<br/> + Of saying the things I do not know,—<br/> + That I may detect the inmost force<br/> + Which binds the world, and guides its course;<br/> + Its germs, productive powers explore,<br/> + And rummage in empty words no more!<br/> + <br/> + O full and splendid Moon, whom I<br/> + Have, from this desk, seen climb the sky<br/> + So many a midnight,—would thy glow<br/> + For the last time beheld my woe!<br/> + Ever thine eye, most mournful friend,<br/> + O'er books and papers saw me bend;<br/> + But would that I, on mountains grand,<br/> + Amid thy blessed light could stand,<br/> + With spirits through mountain-caverns hover,<br/> + Float in thy twilight the meadows over,<br/> + And, freed from the fumes of lore that swathe me,<br/> + To health in thy dewy fountains bathe me!<br/> + <br/> + Ah, me! this dungeon still I see.<br/> + This drear, accursed masonry,<br/> + Where even the welcome daylight strains<br/> + But duskly through the painted panes.<br/> + Hemmed in by many a toppling heap<br/> + Of books worm-eaten, gray with dust,<br/> + Which to the vaulted ceiling creep,<br/> + Against the smoky paper thrust,—<br/> + With glasses, boxes, round me stacked,<br/> + And instruments together hurled,<br/> + Ancestral lumber, stuffed and packed—<br/> + Such is my world: and what a world!<br/> + <br/> + And do I ask, wherefore my heart<br/> + Falters, oppressed with unknown needs?<br/> + Why some inexplicable smart<br/> + All movement of my life impedes?<br/> + Alas! in living Nature's stead,<br/> + Where God His human creature set,<br/> + In smoke and mould the fleshless dead<br/> + And bones of beasts surround me yet!<br/> + <br/> + Fly! Up, and seek the broad, free land!<br/> + And this one Book of Mystery<br/> + From Nostradamus' very hand,<br/> + Is't not sufficient company?<br/> + When I the starry courses know,<br/> + And Nature's wise instruction seek,<br/> + With light of power my soul shall glow,<br/> + As when to spirits spirits speak.<br/> + Tis vain, this empty brooding here,<br/> + Though guessed the holy symbols be:<br/> + Ye, Spirits, come—ye hover near—<br/> + Oh, if you hear me, answer me!<br/> + <br/> + (<i>He opens the Book, and perceives the sign of the Macrocosm</i>.)<br/> + <br/> + Ha! what a sudden rapture leaps from this<br/> + I view, through all my senses swiftly flowing!<br/> + I feel a youthful, holy, vital bliss<br/> + In every vein and fibre newly glowing.<br/> + Was it a God, who traced this sign,<br/> + With calm across my tumult stealing,<br/> + My troubled heart to joy unsealing,<br/> + With impulse, mystic and divine,<br/> + The powers of Nature here, around my path, revealing?<br/> + Am I a God?—so clear mine eyes!<br/> + In these pure features I behold<br/> + Creative Nature to my soul unfold.<br/> + What says the sage, now first I recognize:<br/> + "The spirit-world no closures fasten;<br/> + Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead:<br/> + Disciple, up! untiring, hasten<br/> + To bathe thy breast in morning-red!"<br/> + <br/> + (<i>He contemplates the sign</i>.)<br/> + <br/> + How each the Whole its substance gives,<br/> + Each in the other works and lives!<br/> + Like heavenly forces rising and descending,<br/> + Their golden urns reciprocally lending,<br/> + With wings that winnow blessing<br/> + From Heaven through Earth I see them pressing,<br/> + Filling the All with harmony unceasing!<br/> + How grand a show! but, ah! a show alone.<br/> + Thee, boundless Nature, how make thee my own?<br/> + Where you, ye beasts? Founts of all Being, shining,<br/> + Whereon hang Heaven's and Earth's desire,<br/> + Whereto our withered hearts aspire,—<br/> + Ye flow, ye feed: and am I vainly pining?<br/> + <br/> + (<i>He turns the leaves impatiently, and perceives the sign of the<br/> + Earth-Spirit</i>.)<br/> + <br/> + How otherwise upon me works this sign!<br/> + Thou, Spirit of the Earth, art nearer:<br/> + Even now my powers are loftier, clearer;<br/> + I glow, as drunk with new-made wine:<br/> + New strength and heart to meet the world incite me,<br/> + The woe of earth, the bliss of earth, invite me,<br/> + And though the shock of storms may smite me,<br/> + No crash of shipwreck shall have power to fright me!<br/> + Clouds gather over me—<br/> + The moon conceals her light—<br/> + The lamp's extinguished!—<br/> + Mists rise,—red, angry rays are darting<br/> + Around my head!—There falls<br/> + A horror from the vaulted roof,<br/> + And seizes me!<br/> + I feel thy presence, Spirit I invoke!<br/> + Reveal thyself!<br/> + Ha! in my heart what rending stroke!<br/> + With new impulsion<br/> + My senses heave in this convulsion!<br/> + I feel thee draw my heart, absorb, exhaust me:<br/> + Thou must! thou must! and though my life it cost me!<br/> + <br/> + (<i>He seizes the book, and mysteriously pronounces the sign of<br/> + the Spirit. A ruddy flame flashes: the Spirit appears in<br/> + the flame</i>.)<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + SPIRIT<br/> + <br/> + Who calls me?<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + FAUST (<i>with averted head</i>)<br/> + <br/> + </p> + <div class="indented"> + Terrible to see!<br/> + <br/> + </div> + <p> + SPIRIT<br/> + <br/> + Me hast thou long with might attracted,<br/> + Long from my sphere thy food exacted,<br/> + And now—<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Woe! I endure not thee!</span><br/> + <br/> + <br/> + SPIRIT<br/> + <br/> + To view me is thine aspiration,<br/> + My voice to hear, my countenance to see;<br/> + Thy powerful yearning moveth me,<br/> + Here am I!—what mean perturbation<br/> + Thee, superhuman, shakes? Thy soul's high calling, where?<br/> + Where is the breast, which from itself a world did bear,<br/> + And shaped and cherished—which with joy expanded,<br/> + To be our peer, with us, the Spirits, banded?<br/> + Where art thou, Faust, whose voice has pierced to me,<br/> + Who towards me pressed with all thine energy?<br/> + <i>He</i> art thou, who, my presence breathing, seeing,<br/> + Trembles through all the depths of being,<br/> + A writhing worm, a terror-stricken form?<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + Thee, form of flame, shall I then fear?<br/> + Yes, I am Faust: I am thy peer!<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + SPIRIT<br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">In the tides of Life, in Action's + storm,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">A fluctuant wave,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">A shuttle free,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Birth and the Grave,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">An eternal sea,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">A weaving, flowing</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Life, all-glowing,</span><br/> + Thus at Time's humming loom 'tis my hand prepares<br/> + The garment of Life which the Deity wears!<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + Thou, who around the wide world wendest,<br/> + Thou busy Spirit, how near I feel to thee!<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + SPIRIT<br/> + <br/> + Thou'rt like the Spirit which thou comprehendest,<br/> + Not me!<br/> + <br/> + (<i>Disappears</i>.)<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + FAUST (<i>overwhelmed</i>)<br/> + <br/> + Not thee!<br/> + Whom then?<br/> + I, image of the Godhead!<br/> + Not even like thee!<br/> + <br/> + (<i>A knock</i>).<br/> + <br/> + O Death!—I know it—'tis my Famulus!<br/> + My fairest luck finds no fruition:<br/> + In all the fullness of my vision<br/> + The soulless sneak disturbs me thus!<br/> + <br/> + (<i>Enter</i> WAGNER<i>, in dressing-gown and night-cap, a lamp in<br/> + his hand.</i> FAUST <i>turns impatiently</i>.)<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + WAGNER<br/> + <br/> + Pardon, I heard your declamation;<br/> + 'Twas sure an old Greek tragedy you read?<br/> + In such an art I crave some preparation,<br/> + Since now it stands one in good stead.<br/> + I've often heard it said, a preacher<br/> + Might learn, with a comedian for a teacher.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + Yes, when the priest comedian is by nature,<br/> + As haply now and then the case may be.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + WAGNER<br/> + <br/> + Ah, when one studies thus, a prisoned creature,<br/> + That scarce the world on holidays can see,—<br/> + Scarce through a glass, by rare occasion,<br/> + How shall one lead it by persuasion?<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + You'll ne'er attain it, save you know the feeling,<br/> + Save from the soul it rises clear,<br/> + Serene in primal strength, compelling<br/> + The hearts and minds of all who hear.<br/> + You sit forever gluing, patching;<br/> + You cook the scraps from others' fare;<br/> + And from your heap of ashes hatching<br/> + A starveling flame, ye blow it bare!<br/> + Take children's, monkeys' gaze admiring,<br/> + If such your taste, and be content;<br/> + But ne'er from heart to heart you'll speak inspiring,<br/> + Save your own heart is eloquent!<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + WAGNER<br/> + <br/> + Yet through delivery orators succeed;<br/> + I feel that I am far behind, indeed.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + Seek thou the honest recompense!<br/> + Beware, a tinkling fool to be!<br/> + With little art, clear wit and sense<br/> + Suggest their own delivery;<br/> + And if thou'rt moved to speak in earnest,<br/> + What need, that after words thou yearnest?<br/> + Yes, your discourses, with their glittering show,<br/> + Where ye for men twist shredded thought like paper,<br/> + Are unrefreshing as the winds that blow<br/> + The rustling leaves through chill autumnal vapor!<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + WAGNER<br/> + <br/> + Ah, God! but Art is long,<br/> + And Life, alas! is fleeting.<br/> + And oft, with zeal my critic-duties meeting,<br/> + In head and breast there's something wrong.<br/> + <br/> + How hard it is to compass the assistance<br/> + Whereby one rises to the source!<br/> + And, haply, ere one travels half the course<br/> + Must the poor devil quit existence.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + Is parchment, then, the holy fount before thee,<br/> + A draught wherefrom thy thirst forever slakes?<br/> + No true refreshment can restore thee,<br/> + Save what from thine own soul spontaneous breaks.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + WAGNER<br/> + <br/> + Pardon! a great delight is granted<br/> + When, in the spirit of the ages planted,<br/> + We mark how, ere our times, a sage has thought,<br/> + And then, how far his work, and grandly, we have brought.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + O yes, up to the stars at last!<br/> + Listen, my friend: the ages that are past<br/> + Are now a book with seven seals protected:<br/> + What you the Spirit of the Ages call<br/> + Is nothing but the spirit of you all,<br/> + Wherein the Ages are reflected.<br/> + So, oftentimes, you miserably mar it!<br/> + At the first glance who sees it runs away.<br/> + An offal-barrel and a lumber-garret,<br/> + Or, at the best, a Punch-and-Judy play,<br/> + With maxims most pragmatical and hitting,<br/> + As in the mouths of puppets are befitting!<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + WAGNER<br/> + <br/> + But then, the world—the human heart and brain!<br/> + Of these one covets some slight apprehension.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + Yes, of the kind which men attain!<br/> + Who dares the child's true name in public mention?<br/> + The few, who thereof something really learned,<br/> + Unwisely frank, with hearts that spurned concealing,<br/> + And to the mob laid bare each thought and feeling,<br/> + Have evermore been crucified and burned.<br/> + I pray you, Friend, 'tis now the dead of night;<br/> + Our converse here must be suspended.<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + WAGNER<br/> + <br/> + I would have shared your watches with delight,<br/> + That so our learned talk might be extended.<br/> + To-morrow, though, I'll ask, in Easter leisure,<br/> + This and the other question, at your pleasure.<br/> + Most zealously I seek for erudition:<br/> + Much do I know—but to know all is my ambition.<br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 22em;">[<i>Exit</i>.</span><br/> + <br/> + <br/> + FAUST (<i>solus</i>)<br/> + <br/> + That brain, alone, not loses hope, whose choice is<br/> + To stick in shallow trash forevermore,—<br/> + Which digs with eager hand for buried ore,<br/> + And, when it finds an angle-worm, rejoices!<br/> + <br/> + Dare such a human voice disturb the flow,<br/> + Around me here, of spirit-presence fullest?<br/> + And yet, this once my thanks I owe<br/> + To thee, of all earth's sons the poorest, dullest!<br/> + For thou hast torn me from that desperate state<br/> + Which threatened soon to overwhelm my senses:<br/> + The apparition was so giant-great,<br/> + It dwarfed and withered all my soul's pretences!<br/> + <br/> + I, image of the Godhead, who began—<br/> + Deeming Eternal Truth secure in nearness—<br/> +To sun myself in heavenly light and clearness,<br/> +And laid aside the earthly man;—<br/> +I, more than Cherub, whose free force had planned<br/> +To flow through Nature’s veins in glad pulsation,<br/> +To reach beyond, enjoying in creation<br/> +The life of Gods, behold my expiation!<br/> +A thunder-word hath swept me from my stand.<sup>27</sup><br/> +<br/> +With thee I dare not venture to compare me.<br/> +Though I possessed the power to draw thee near me,<br/> +The power to keep thee was denied my hand.<br/> +When that ecstatic moment held me,<br/> +I felt myself so small, so great;<br/> +But thou hast ruthlessly repelled me<br/> +Back upon Man’s uncertain fate.<br/> +What shall I shun? Whose guidance borrow?<br/> +Shall I accept that stress and strife?<br/> +Ah! every deed of ours, no less than every sorrow,<br/> +Impedes the onward march of life.<br/> +<br/> +Some alien substance more and more is cleaving<br/> +To all the mind conceives of grand and fair;<br/> +When this world’s Good is won by our achieving,<br/> +The Better, then, is named a cheat and snare.<br/> +The fine emotions, whence our lives we mould,<br/> +Lie in the earthly tumult dumb and cold.<br/> +If hopeful Fancy once, in daring flight,<br/> +Her longings to the Infinite expanded,<br/> +Yet now a narrow space contents her quite,<br/> +Since Time’s wild wave so many a fortune stranded.<br/> +Care at the bottom of the heart is lurking:<br/> +Her secret pangs in silence working,<br/> +She, restless, rocks herself, disturbing joy and rest:<br/> +In newer masks her face is ever drest,<br/> +By turns as house and land, as wife and child, presented,—<br/> +As water, fire, as poison, steel:<br/> +We dread the blows we never feel,<br/> +And what we never lose is yet by us lamented!<br/> +<br/> +I am not like the Gods! That truth is felt too deep:<br/> +The worm am I, that in the dust doth creep,—<br/> +That, while in dust it lives and seeks its bread,<br/> +Is crushed and buried by the wanderer’s tread.<br/> +<br/> +Is not this dust, these walls within them hold,<br/> +The hundred shelves, which cramp and chain me,<br/> +The frippery, the trinkets thousandfold,<br/> +That in this mothy den restrain me?<br/> +Here shall I find the help I need?<br/> +Shall here a thousand volumes teach me only<br/> +That men, self-tortured, everywhere must bleed,—<br/> +And here and there one happy man sits lonely?<sup>28</sup><br/> +What mean’st thou by that grin, thou hollow skull,<br/> +Save that thy brain, like mine, a cloudy mirror,<br/> +Sought once the shining day, and then, in twilight dull,<sup>29</sup><br/> +Thirsting for Truth, went wretchedly to Error?<br/> +Ye instruments, forsooth, but jeer at me<br/> +With wheel and cog, and shapes uncouth of wonder;<br/> +I found the portal, you the keys should be;<br/> +Your wards are deftly wrought, but drive no bolts asunder!<br/> +Mysterious even in open day,<br/> +Nature retains her veil, despite our clamors:<br/> +That which she doth not willingly display<br/> +Cannot be wrenched from her with levers, screws, and hammers.<br/> +Ye ancient tools, whose use I never knew,<br/> +Here, since my father used ye, still ye moulder:<br/> +Thou, ancient scroll, hast worn thy smoky hue<br/> +Since at this desk the dim lamp wont to smoulder.<br/> +’T were better far, had I my little idly spent,<br/> +Than now to sweat beneath its burden, I confess it!<br/> +What from your fathers’ heritage is lent,<br/> +Earn it anew, to really possess it!<sup>30</sup><br/> +What serves not, is a sore impediment:<br/> +The Moment’s need creates the thing to serve and bless it!<br/> +<br/> +Yet, wherefore tums my gaze to yonder point so lightly?<br/> +Is yonder flask a magnet for mine eyes?<br/> +Whence, all around me, glows the air so brightly,<br/> +As when in woods at night the mellow moonbeam lies?<br/> +<br/> +I hail thee, wondrous, rarest vial!<br/> +I take thee down devoutly, for the trial:<br/> +Man’s art and wit I venerate in thee.<br/> +Thou summary of gentle slumber-juices,<br/> +Essence of deadly finest powers and uses,<br/> +Unto thy master show thy favor free!<br/> +I see thee, and the stings of pain diminish;<br/> +I grasp thee, and my struggles slowly finish:<br/> +My spirit’s flood-tide ebbeth more and more.<br/> +Out on the open ocean speeds my dreaming;<br/> +The glassy flood before my feet is gleaming,<br/> +A new day beckons to a newer shore!<br/> +<br/> +A fiery chariot, borne on buoyant pinions,<br/> +Sweeps near me now! I soon shall ready be<br/> +To pierce the ether’s high, unknown dominions,<br/> +To reach new spheres of pure activity!<br/> +This godlike rapture, this supreme existence,<br/> +Do I, but now a worm, deserve to track?<br/> +Yes, resolute to reach some brighter distance,<br/> +On Earth’s fair sun I tum my back<sup>31</sup><br/> +Yes, let me dare those gates to fling asunder,<br/> +Which every man would fain go slinking by!<br/> +’T is time, through deeds this word of truth to thunder:<br/> +That with the height of Gods Man’s dignity may vie!<br/> +Nor from that gloomy gulf to shrink affrighted,<br/> +Where Fancy doth herself to self-born pangs compel,—<br/> +To struggle toward that pass benighted,<br/> +Around whose narrow mouth flame all the fires of Hell,—<br/> +To take this step with cheerful resolution,<br/> +Though Nothingness should be the certain, swift conclusion!<br/> +And now come down, thou cup of crystal clearest!<br/> +Fresh from thine ancient cover thou appearest,<br/> +So many years forgotten to my thought!<br/> +Thou shon’st at old ancestral banquets cheery,<br/> +The solemn guests thou madest merry,<br/> +When one thy wassail to the other brought.<br/> +The rich and skilful figures o’er thee wrought,<br/> +The drinker’s duty, rhyme-wise to explain them,<br/> +Or in one breath below the mark to drain them,<br/> +From many a night of youth my memory caught.<br/> +Now to a neighbor shall I pass thee never,<br/> +Nor on thy curious art to test my wit endeavor,<br/> +Here is a juice whence sleep is swiftly born.<br/> +It fills with browner flood thy crystal hollow;<br/> +I chose, prepared it: thus I follow,—<br/> +With all my soul the final drink I swallow,<br/> +A solemn festal cup, a greeting to the morn!<br/> +[He sets the goblet to his mouth.<br/> +(Chime of bells and choral song.)<br/> + <br/> + <br/> +CHORUS OF ANGELS.<sup>32</sup><br/> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Christ is arisen!</span><br/> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Joy to the Mortal One,</span><br/> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Whom the unmerited,</span><br/> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Clinging, inherited</span><br/> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Needs did imprison.</span><br/> + <br/> + <br/> +FAUST.<br/> +What hollow humming, what a sharp, clear stroke,<br/> +Drives from my lip the goblet’s, at their meeting?<br/> +Announce the booming bells already woke<br/> +The first glad hour of Easter’s festal greeting?<br/> + Ye choirs, have ye begun the sweet, consoling chant,<br/> + Which, through the night of Death, the angels ministrant<br/> + Sang, God's new Covenant repeating?<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + CHORUS OF WOMEN<br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">With spices and precious</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Balm, we arrayed him;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Faithful and gracious,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">We tenderly laid him:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Linen to bind him</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Cleanlily wound we:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Ah! when we would find him,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Christ no more found we!</span><br/> + <br/> + <br/> + CHORUS OF ANGELS<br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Christ is ascended!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Bliss hath invested him,—</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Woes that molested him,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Trials that tested him,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Gloriously ended!</span><br/> + <br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + Why, here in dust, entice me with your spell,<br/> + Ye gentle, powerful sounds of Heaven?<br/> + Peal rather there, where tender natures dwell.<br/> + Your messages I hear, but faith has not been given;<br/> + The dearest child of Faith is Miracle.<br/> + I venture not to soar to yonder regions<br/> + Whence the glad tidings hither float;<br/> + And yet, from childhood up familiar with the note,<br/> + To Life it now renews the old allegiance.<br/> + Once Heavenly Love sent down a burning kiss<br/> + Upon my brow, in Sabbath silence holy;<br/> + And, filled with mystic presage, chimed the church-bell slowly,<br/> + And prayer dissolved me in a fervent bliss.<br/> + A sweet, uncomprehended yearning<br/> + Drove forth my feet through woods and meadows free,<br/> + And while a thousand tears were burning,<br/> + I felt a world arise for me.<br/> + These chants, to youth and all its sports appealing,<br/> + Proclaimed the Spring's rejoicing holiday;<br/> + And Memory holds me now, with childish feeling,<br/> + Back from the last, the solemn way.<br/> + Sound on, ye hymns of Heaven, so sweet and mild!<br/> + My tears gush forth: the Earth takes back her child!<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + CHORUS OF DISCIPLES<br/> + <br/> +</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Has He, victoriously,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Burst from the vaulted</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Grave, and all-gloriously</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Now sits exalted?</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Is He, in glow of birth,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Rapture creative near?</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah! to the woe of earth</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Still are we native here.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">We, his aspiring</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Followers, Him we miss;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Weeping, desiring,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Master, Thy bliss!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>CHORUS OF ANGELS</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Christ is arisen,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Out of Corruption's womb:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Burst ye the prison,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Break from your gloom!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Praising and pleading him,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Lovingly needing him,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Brotherly feeding him,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Preaching and speeding him,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Blessing, succeeding Him,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thus is the Master near,—</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thus is He here!</span><br/> + </p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-053.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="II"></a>II</h2> + <p>BEFORE THE CITY-GATE</p> + <p>(<i>Pedestrians of all kinds come forth</i>.)</p> + <p>SEVERAL APPRENTICES</p> + <p>Why do you go that way?</p> + <p>OTHERS</p> + <p>We're for the Hunters' lodge, to-day.</p> + <p>THE FIRST</p> + <p>We'll saunter to the Mill, in yonder hollow.</p> + <p>AN APPRENTICE</p> + <p>Go to the River Tavern, I should say.</p> + <p>SECOND APPRENTICE</p> + <p>But then, it's not a pleasant way.</p> + <p>THE OTHERS</p> + <p>And what will <i>you</i>?</p> + <p>A THIRD</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 6em;">As goes the crowd, I follow.</span><br/></p> + + <p>A FOURTH</p> + <p>Come up to Burgdorf? There you'll find good cheer,<br/> + The finest lasses and the best of beer,<br/> + And jolly rows and squabbles, trust me!</p> + <p>A FIFTH</p> + <p>You swaggering fellow, is your hide<br/> + A third time itching to be tried?<br/> + I won't go there, your jolly rows disgust me!</p> + <p>SERVANT-GIRL</p> + <p>No,—no! I'll turn and go to town again.</p> + <p>ANOTHER</p> + <p>We'll surely find him by those poplars yonder.</p> + <p>THE FIRST</p> + <p>That's no great luck for me, 'tis plain.<br/> + You'll have him, when and where you wander:<br/> + His partner in the dance you'll be,—<br/> + But what is all your fun to me?</p> + <p>THE OTHER</p> + <p>He's surely not alone to-day:<br/> + He'll be with Curly-head, I heard him say.</p> + <p>A STUDENT</p> + <p>Deuce! how they step, the buxom wenches!<br/> + Come, Brother! we must see them to the benches.<br/> + A strong, old beer, a pipe that stings and bites,<br/> + A girl in Sunday clothes,—these three are my delights.</p> + <p>CITIZEN'S DAUGHTER</p> + <p>Just see those handsome fellows, there!<br/> + It's really shameful, I declare;—<br/> + To follow servant-girls, when they<br/> + Might have the most genteel society to-day!</p> + <p>SECOND STUDENT (<i>to the First</i>)</p> + <p>Not quite so fast! Two others come behind,—<br/> + Those, dressed so prettily and neatly.<br/> + My neighbor's one of them, I find,<br/> + A girl that takes my heart, completely.<br/> + They go their way with looks demure,<br/> + But they'll accept us, after all, I'm sure.</p> + <p>THE FIRST</p> + <p>No, Brother! not for me their formal ways.<br/> + Quick! lest our game escape us in the press:<br/> + The hand that wields the broom on Saturdays<br/> + Will best, on Sundays, fondle and caress.</p> + <p>CITIZEN</p> + <p>He suits me not at all, our new-made Burgomaster!<br/> + Since he's installed, his arrogance grows faster.<br/> + How has he helped the town, I say?<br/> + Things worsen,—what improvement names he?<br/> + Obedience, more than ever, claims he,<br/> + And more than ever we must pay!</p> + <p>BEGGAR (<i>sings</i>)</p> + <p> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Good gentlemen and lovely ladies,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">So red of cheek and fine of dress,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Behold, how needful here your aid is,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">And see and lighten my distress!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let me not vainly sing my ditty;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">He's only glad who gives away:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">A holiday, that shows your pity,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shall be for me a harvest-day!</span><br/> +</p> + <p>ANOTHER CITIZEN</p> + <p>On Sundays, holidays, there's naught I take delight in,<br/> + Like gossiping of war, and war's array,<br/> + When down in Turkey, far away,<br/> + The foreign people are a-fighting.<br/> + One at the window sits, with glass and friends,<br/> + And sees all sorts of ships go down the river gliding:<br/> + And blesses then, as home he wends<br/> + At night, our times of peace abiding.</p> + <p>THIRD CITIZEN</p> + <p>Yes, Neighbor! that's my notion, too:<br/> + Why, let them break their heads, let loose their passions,<br/> + And mix things madly through and through,<br/> + So, here, we keep our good old fashions!</p> + <p>OLD WOMAN (<i>to the Citizen's Daughter</i>)</p> + <p>Dear me, how fine! So handsome, and so young!<br/> + Who wouldn't lose his heart, that met you?<br/> + Don't be so proud! I'll hold my tongue,<br/> + And what you'd like I'll undertake to get you.</p> + <p>CITIZEN'S DAUGHTER</p> + <p>Come, Agatha! I shun the witch's sight<br/> + Before folks, lest there be misgiving:<br/> + 'Tis true, she showed me, on Saint Andrew's Night,<br/> + My future sweetheart, just as he were living.</p> + <p>THE OTHER</p> + <p>She showed me mine, in crystal clear,<br/> + With several wild young blades, a soldier-lover:<br/> + I seek him everywhere, I pry and peer,<br/> + And yet, somehow, his face I can't discover.</p> + <p>SOLDIERS</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Castles, with lofty</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ramparts and towers,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Maidens disdainful</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">In Beauty's array,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Both shall be ours!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Bold is the venture,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Splendid the pay!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Lads, let the trumpets</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">For us be suing,—</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Calling to pleasure,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Calling to ruin.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Stormy our life is;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Such is its boon!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Maidens and castles</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Capitulate soon.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Bold is the venture,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Splendid the pay!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And the soldiers go marching,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Marching away!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>FAUST AND WAGNER</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Released from ice are brook and river<br/> + By the quickening glance of the gracious Spring;<br/> + The colors of hope to the valley cling,<br/> + And weak old Winter himself must shiver,<br/> + Withdrawn to the mountains, a crownless king:<br/> + Whence, ever retreating, he sends again<br/> + Impotent showers of sleet that darkle<br/> + In belts across the green o' the plain.<br/> + But the sun will permit no white to sparkle;<br/> + Everywhere form in development moveth;<br/> + He will brighten the world with the tints he loveth,<br/> + And, lacking blossoms, blue, yellow, and red,<br/> + He takes these gaudy people instead.<br/> + Turn thee about, and from this height<br/> + Back on the town direct thy sight.<br/> + Out of the hollow, gloomy gate,<br/> + The motley throngs come forth elate:<br/> + Each will the joy of the sunshine hoard,<br/> + To honor the Day of the Risen Lord!<br/> + They feel, themselves, their resurrection:<br/> + From the low, dark rooms, scarce habitable;<br/> + From the bonds of Work, from Trade's restriction;<br/> + From the pressing weight of roof and gable;<br/> + From the narrow, crushing streets and alleys;<br/> + From the churches' solemn and reverend night,<br/> + All come forth to the cheerful light.<br/> + How lively, see! the multitude sallies,<br/> + Scattering through gardens and fields remote,<br/> + While over the river, that broadly dallies,<br/> + Dances so many a festive boat;<br/> + And overladen, nigh to sinking,<br/> + The last full wherry takes the stream.<br/> + Yonder afar, from the hill-paths blinking,<br/> + Their clothes are colors that softly gleam.<br/> + I hear the noise of the village, even;<br/> + Here is the People's proper Heaven;<br/> + Here high and low contented see!<br/> + Here I am Man,—dare man to be!</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>To stroll with you, Sir Doctor, flatters;<br/> + 'Tis honor, profit, unto me.<br/> + But I, alone, would shun these shallow matters,<br/> + Since all that's coarse provokes my enmity.<br/> + This fiddling, shouting, ten-pin rolling<br/> + I hate,—these noises of the throng:<br/> + They rave, as Satan were their sports controlling.<br/> + And call it mirth, and call it song!</p> + <p>PEASANTS, UNDER THE LINDEN-TREE<br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">(<i>Dance and Song</i>.)</span><br/></p> + + <p><span style="margin-left: 5em;">All for the dance the shepherd + dressed,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">In ribbons, wreath, and gayest vest</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Himself with care arraying:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Around the linden lass and lad</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Already footed it like mad:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah! hurrah!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah—tarara-la!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">The fiddle-bow was playing.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">He broke the ranks, no whit afraid,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And with his elbow punched a maid,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Who stood, the dance surveying:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">The buxom wench, she turned and said:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">"Now, you I call a stupid-head!"</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah! hurrah!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah—tarara-la!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">"Be decent while you're staying!"</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Then round the circle went their + flight,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">They danced to left, they danced to + right:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Their kirtles all were playing.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">They first grew red, and then grew + warm,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And rested, panting, arm in arm,—</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah! hurrah!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah—tarara-la!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And hips and elbows straying.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Now, don't be so familiar here!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">How many a one has fooled his dear,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Waylaying and betraying!</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And yet, he coaxed her soon aside,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And round the linden sounded wide.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah! hurrah!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hurrah—tarara-la!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">And the fiddle-bow was playing.</span><br/> + </p> + <p>OLD PEASANT</p> + <p>Sir Doctor, it is good of you,<br/> + That thus you condescend, to-day,<br/> + Among this crowd of merry folk,<br/> + A highly-learned man, to stray.<br/> + Then also take the finest can,<br/> + We fill with fresh wine, for your sake:<br/> + I offer it, and humbly wish<br/> + That not alone your thirst is slake,—<br/> + That, as the drops below its brink,<br/> + So many days of life you drink!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I take the cup you kindly reach,<br/> + With thanks and health to all and each.</p> + <p>(<i>The People gather in a circle about him</i>.)</p> + <p>OLD PEASANT</p> + <p>In truth, 'tis well and fitly timed,<br/> + That now our day of joy you share,<br/> + Who heretofore, in evil days,<br/> + Gave us so much of helping care.<br/> + Still many a man stands living here,<br/> + Saved by your father's skillful hand,<br/> + That snatched him from the fever's rage<br/> + And stayed the plague in all the land.<br/> + Then also you, though but a youth,<br/> + Went into every house of pain:<br/> + Many the corpses carried forth,<br/> + But you in health came out again.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>No test or trial you evaded:<br/> + A Helping God the helper aided.</p> + <p>ALL</p> + <p>Health to the man, so skilled and tried.<br/> + That for our help he long may abide!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>To Him above bow down, my friends,<br/> + Who teaches help, and succor sends!</p> + <p>(<i>He goes on with</i> WAGNER.)</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>With what a feeling, thou great man, must thou<br/> + Receive the people's honest veneration!<br/> + How lucky he, whose gifts his station<br/> + With such advantages endow!<br/> + Thou'rt shown to all the younger generation:<br/> + Each asks, and presses near to gaze;<br/> + The fiddle stops, the dance delays.<br/> + Thou goest, they stand in rows to see,<br/> + And all the caps are lifted high;<br/> + A little more, and they would bend the knee<br/> + As if the Holy Host came by.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>A few more steps ascend, as far as yonder stone!—<br/> + Here from our wandering will we rest contented.<br/> + Here, lost in thought, I've lingered oft alone,<br/> + When foolish fasts and prayers my life tormented.<br/> + Here, rich in hope and firm in faith,<br/> + With tears, wrung hands and sighs, I've striven,<br/> + The end of that far-spreading death<br/> + Entreating from the Lord of Heaven!<br/> + Now like contempt the crowd's applauses seem:<br/> + Couldst thou but read, within mine inmost spirit,<br/> + How little now I deem,<br/> + That sire or son such praises merit!<br/> + My father's was a sombre, brooding brain,<br/> + Which through the holy spheres of Nature groped and wandered,<br/> + And honestly, in his own fashion, pondered<br/> + With labor whimsical, and pain:<br/> + Who, in his dusky work-shop bending,<br/> + With proved adepts in company,<br/> + Made, from his recipes unending,<br/> + Opposing substances agree.<br/> + There was a Lion red, a wooer daring,<br/> + Within the Lily's tepid bath espoused,<br/> + And both, tormented then by flame unsparing,<br/> + By turns in either bridal chamber housed.<br/> + If then appeared, with colors splendid,<br/> + The young Queen in her crystal shell,<br/> + This was the medicine—the patients' woes soon ended,<br/> + And none demanded: who got well?<br/> + Thus we, our hellish boluses compounding,<br/> + Among these vales and hills surrounding,<br/> + Worse than the pestilence, have passed.<br/> + Thousands were done to death from poison of my giving;<br/> + And I must hear, by all the living,<br/> + The shameless murderers praised at last!</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>Why, therefore, yield to such depression?<br/> + A good man does his honest share<br/> + In exercising, with the strictest care,<br/> + The art bequeathed to his possession!<br/> + Dost thou thy father honor, as a youth?<br/> + Then may his teaching cheerfully impel thee:<br/> + Dost thou, as man, increase the stores of truth?<br/> + Then may thine own son afterwards excel thee.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>O happy he, who still renews<br/> + The hope, from Error's deeps to rise forever!<br/> + That which one does not know, one needs to use;<br/> + And what one knows, one uses never.<br/> + But let us not, by such despondence, so<br/> + The fortune of this hour embitter!<br/> + Mark how, beneath the evening sunlight's glow,<br/> + The green-embosomed houses glitter!<br/> + The glow retreats, done is the day of toil;<br/> + It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring;<br/> + Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil,<br/> + Upon its track to follow, follow soaring!<br/> + Then would I see eternal Evening gild<br/> + The silent world beneath me glowing,<br/> + On fire each mountain-peak, with peace each valley filled,<br/> + The silver brook to golden rivers flowing.<br/> + The mountain-chain, with all its gorges deep,<br/> + Would then no more impede my godlike motion;<br/> + And now before mine eyes expands the ocean<br/> + With all its bays, in shining sleep!<br/> + Yet, finally, the weary god is sinking;<br/> + The new-born impulse fires my mind,—<br/> + I hasten on, his beams eternal drinking,<br/> + The Day before me and the Night behind,<br/> + Above me heaven unfurled, the floor of waves beneath me,—<br/> + A glorious dream! though now the glories fade.<br/> + Alas! the wings that lift the mind no aid<br/> + Of wings to lift the body can bequeath me.<br/> + Yet in each soul is born the pleasure<br/> + Of yearning onward, upward and away,<br/> + When o'er our heads, lost in the vaulted azure,<br/> + The lark sends down his flickering lay,—<br/> + When over crags and piny highlands<br/> + The poising eagle slowly soars,<br/> + And over plains and lakes and islands<br/> + The crane sails by to other shores.</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>I've had, myself, at times, some odd caprices,<br/> + But never yet such impulse felt, as this is.<br/> + One soon fatigues, on woods and fields to look,<br/> + Nor would I beg the bird his wing to spare us:<br/> + How otherwise the mental raptures bear us<br/> + From page to page, from book to book!<br/> + Then winter nights take loveliness untold,<br/> + As warmer life in every limb had crowned you;<br/> + And when your hands unroll some parchment rare and old,<br/> + All Heaven descends, and opens bright around you!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>One impulse art thou conscious of, at best;<br/> + O, never seek to know the other!<br/> + Two souls, alas! reside within my breast,<br/> + And each withdraws from, and repels, its brother.<br/> + One with tenacious organs holds in love<br/> + And clinging lust the world in its embraces;<br/> + The other strongly sweeps, this dust above,<br/> + Into the high ancestral spaces.<br/> + If there be airy spirits near,<br/> + 'Twixt Heaven and Earth on potent errands fleeing,<br/> + Let them drop down the golden atmosphere,<br/> + And bear me forth to new and varied being!<br/> + Yea, if a magic mantle once were mine,<br/> + To waft me o'er the world at pleasure,<br/> + I would not for the costliest stores of treasure—<br/> + Not for a monarch's robe—the gift resign.</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>Invoke not thus the well-known throng,<br/> + Which through the firmament diffused is faring,<br/> + And danger thousand-fold, our race to wrong.<br/> + In every quarter is preparing.<br/> + Swift from the North the spirit-fangs so sharp<br/> + Sweep down, and with their barbéd points assail you;<br/> + Then from the East they come, to dry and warp<br/> + Your lungs, till breath and being fail you:<br/> + If from the Desert sendeth them the South,<br/> + With fire on fire your throbbing forehead crowning,<br/> + The West leads on a host, to cure the drouth<br/> + Only when meadow, field, and you are drowning.<br/> + They gladly hearken, prompt for injury,—<br/> + Gladly obey, because they gladly cheat us;<br/> + From Heaven they represent themselves to be,<br/> + And lisp like angels, when with lies they meet us.<br/> + But, let us go! 'Tis gray and dusky all:<br/> + The air is cold, the vapors fall.<br/> + At night, one learns his house to prize:—<br/> + Why stand you thus, with such astonished eyes?<br/> + What, in the twilight, can your mind so trouble?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Seest thou the black dog coursing there, through corn and<br/> + stubble?</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>Long since: yet deemed him not important in the least.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Inspect him close: for what tak'st thou the beast?</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>Why, for a poodle who has lost his master,<br/> + And scents about, his track to find.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Seest thou the spiral circles, narrowing faster,<br/> + Which he, approaching, round us seems to wind?<br/> + A streaming trail of fire, if I see rightly,<br/> + Follows his path of mystery.</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>It may be that your eyes deceive you slightly;<br/> + Naught but a plain black poodle do I see.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>It seems to me that with enchanted cunning<br/> + He snares our feet, some future chain to bind.</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>I see him timidly, in doubt, around us running,<br/> + Since, in his master's stead, two strangers doth he find.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The circle narrows: he is near!</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>A dog thou seest, and not a phantom, here!<br/> + Behold him stop—upon his belly crawl—His<br/> + tail set wagging: canine habits, all!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Come, follow us! Come here, at least!</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>'Tis the absurdest, drollest beast.<br/> + Stand still, and you will see him wait;<br/> + Address him, and he gambols straight;<br/> + If something's lost, he'll quickly bring it,—<br/> + Your cane, if in the stream you fling it.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>No doubt you're right: no trace of mind, I own,<br/> + Is in the beast: I see but drill, alone.</p> + <p>WAGNER</p> + <p>The dog, when he's well educated,<br/> + Is by the wisest tolerated.<br/> + Yes, he deserves your favor thoroughly,—<br/> + The clever scholar of the students, he!</p> + <p>(<i>They pass in the city-gate</i>.)</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-067.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-068.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="III"></a>III</h2> + <p>THE STUDY</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>(<i>Entering, with the poodle</i>.)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Behind me, field and meadow + sleeping,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I leave in deep, prophetic night,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Within whose dread and holy keeping</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The better soul awakes to light.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The wild desires no longer win us,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The deeds of passion cease to chain;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The love of Man revives within us,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The love of God revives again.</span><br/> + </p> + <p>Be still, thou poodle; make not such racket and riot!<br/> + Why at the threshold wilt snuffing be?<br/> + Behind the stove repose thee in quiet!<br/> + My softest cushion I give to thee.<br/> + As thou, up yonder, with running and leaping<br/> + Amused us hast, on the mountain's crest,<br/> + </p> + <p>So now I take thee into my keeping,<br/> + A welcome, but also a silent, guest.</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Ah, when, within our narrow chamber</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The lamp with friendly lustre glows,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Flames in the breast each faded + ember,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And in the heart, itself that knows.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Then Hope again lends sweet + assistance,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And Reason then resumes her speech:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">One yearns, the rivers of existence,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The very founts of Life, to reach.</span><br/> + </p> + <p>Snarl not, poodle! To the sound that rises,<br/> + The sacred tones that my soul embrace,<br/> + This bestial noise is out of place.<br/> + We are used to see, that Man despises<br/> + What he never comprehends,<br/> + And the Good and the Beautiful vilipends,<br/> + Finding them often hard to measure:<br/> + Will the dog, like man, snarl <i>his</i> displeasure?</p> + <p>But ah! I feel, though will thereto be stronger,<br/> + Contentment flows from out my breast no longer.<br/> + Why must the stream so soon run dry and fail us,<br/> + And burning thirst again assail us?<br/> + Therein I've borne so much probation!<br/> + And yet, this want may be supplied us;<br/> + We call the Supernatural to guide us;<br/> + We pine and thirst for Revelation,<br/> + Which nowhere worthier is, more nobly sent,<br/> + Than here, in our New Testament.<br/> + I feel impelled, its meaning to determine,—<br/> + With honest purpose, once for all,<br/> + The hallowed Original<br/> + To change to my beloved German.<br/> + </p> + <p>(<i>He opens a volume, and commences</i>.)<br/> + 'Tis written: "In the Beginning was the <i>Word</i>."<br/> + Here am I balked: who, now can help afford?<br/> + The <i>Word?</i>—impossible so high to rate it;<br/> + And otherwise must I translate it.<br/> + If by the Spirit I am truly taught.<br/> + Then thus: "In the Beginning was the <i>Thought</i>"<br/> + This first line let me weigh completely,<br/> + Lest my impatient pen proceed too fleetly.<br/> + Is it the <i>Thought</i> which works, creates, indeed?<br/> + "In the Beginning was the <i>Power,"</i> I read.<br/> + Yet, as I write, a warning is suggested,<br/> + That I the sense may not have fairly tested.<br/> + The Spirit aids me: now I see the light!<br/> + "In the Beginning was the <i>Act</i>," I write.<br/> + <br/> + If I must share my chamber with thee,<br/> + Poodle, stop that howling, prithee!<br/> + Cease to bark and bellow!<br/> + Such a noisy, disturbing fellow<br/> + I'll no longer suffer near me.<br/> + One of us, dost hear me!<br/> + Must leave, I fear me.<br/> + No longer guest-right I bestow;<br/> + The door is open, art free to go.<br/> + But what do I see in the creature?<br/> + Is that in the course of nature?<br/> + Is't actual fact? or Fancy's shows?<br/> + How long and broad my poodle grows!<br/> + He rises mightily:<br/> + A canine form that cannot be!<br/> + What a spectre I've harbored thus!<br/> + He resembles a hippopotamus,<br/> + With fiery eyes, teeth terrible to see:<br/> + O, now am I sure of thee!<br/> + For all of thy half-hellish brood<br/> + The Key of Solomon is good.<br/> + <br/> + </p> + <p>SPIRITS (<i>in the corridor</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Some one, within, is caught!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Stay without, follow him not!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Like the fox in a snare,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Quakes the old hell-lynx there.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Take heed—look about!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Back and forth hover,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Under and over,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And he'll work himself out.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">If your aid avail him,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Let it not fail him;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">For he, without measure,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Has wrought for our pleasure.</span><br/> + </p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>First, to encounter the beast,<br/> + The Words of the Four be addressed:<br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Salamander, shine glorious!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wave, Undine, as bidden!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sylph, be thou hidden!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Gnome, be laborious!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>Who knows not their sense<br/> + (These elements),—<br/> + Their properties<br/> + And power not sees,—<br/> + No mastery he inherits<br/> + Over the Spirits.</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Vanish in flaming ether,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Salamander!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Flow foamingly together,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Undine!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Shine in meteor-sheen,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Sylph!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bring help to hearth and shelf.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Incubus! Incubus!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Step forward, and finish thus!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>Of the Four, no feature<br/> + Lurks in the creature.<br/> + Quiet he lies, and grins disdain:<br/> + Not yet, it seems, have I given him pain.<br/> + Now, to undisguise thee,<br/> + Hear me exorcise thee!<br/> + Art thou, my gay one,<br/> + Hell's fugitive stray-one?<br/> + The sign witness now,<br/> + Before which they bow,<br/> + The cohorts of Hell!</p> + <p>With hair all bristling, it begins to swell.</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Base Being, hearest thou?</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Knowest and fearest thou</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The One, unoriginate,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Named inexpressibly,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Through all Heaven impermeate,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Pierced irredressibly!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>Behind the stove still banned,<br/> + See it, an elephant, expand!<br/> + It fills the space entire,<br/> + Mist-like melting, ever faster.<br/> + 'Tis enough: ascend no higher,—<br/> + Lay thyself at the feet of the Master!<br/> + Thou seest, not vain the threats I bring thee:<br/> + With holy fire I'll scorch and sting thee!<br/> + Wait not to know<br/> + The threefold dazzling glow!<br/> + Wait not to know<br/> + The strongest art within my hands!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>(<i>while the vapor is dissipating, steps forth from behind the<br/> + stove, in the costume of a Travelling Scholar</i>.)<br/> + Why such a noise? What are my lord's commands?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>This was the poodle's real core,<br/> + A travelling scholar, then? The <i>casus</i> is diverting.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The learned gentleman I bow before:<br/> + You've made me roundly sweat, that's certain!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What is thy name?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>A question small, it seems,<br/> + For one whose mind the Word so much despises;<br/> + Who, scorning all external gleams,<br/> + The depths of being only prizes.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>With all you gentlemen, the name's a test,<br/> + Whereby the nature usually is expressed.<br/> + Clearly the latter it implies<br/> + In names like Beelzebub, Destroyer, Father of Lies.<br/> + Who art thou, then?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Part of that Power, not understood,<br/> + Which always wills the Bad, and always works the Good.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What hidden sense in this enigma lies?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I am the Spirit that Denies!<br/> + And justly so: for all things, from the Void<br/> + Called forth, deserve to be destroyed:<br/> + 'Twere better, then, were naught created.<br/> + Thus, all which you as Sin have rated,—<br/> + Destruction,—aught with Evil blent,—<br/> + That is my proper element.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou nam'st thyself a part, yet show'st complete to me?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The modest truth I speak to thee.<br/> + If Man, that microcosmic fool, can see<br/> + Himself a whole so frequently,<br/> + Part of the Part am I, once All, in primal Night,—<br/> + Part of the Darkness which brought forth the Light,<br/> + The haughty Light, which now disputes the space,<br/> + And claims of Mother Night her ancient place.<br/> + And yet, the struggle fails; since Light, howe'er it weaves,<br/> + Still, fettered, unto bodies cleaves:<br/> + It flows from bodies, bodies beautifies;<br/> + By bodies is its course impeded;<br/> + And so, but little time is needed,<br/> + I hope, ere, as the bodies die, it dies!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I see the plan thou art pursuing:<br/> + Thou canst not compass general ruin,<br/> + And hast on smaller scale begun.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And truly 'tis not much, when all is done.<br/> + That which to Naught is in resistance set,—<br/> + The Something of this clumsy world,—has yet,<br/> + With all that I have undertaken,<br/> + Not been by me disturbed or shaken:<br/> + From earthquake, tempest, wave, volcano's brand,<br/> + Back into quiet settle sea and land!<br/> + And that damned stuff, the bestial, human brood,—<br/> + What use, in having that to play with?<br/> + How many have I made away with!<br/> + And ever circulates a newer, fresher blood.<br/> + It makes me furious, such things beholding:<br/> + From Water, Earth, and Air unfolding,<br/> + A thousand germs break forth and grow,<br/> + In dry, and wet, and warm, and chilly;<br/> + And had I not the Flame reserved, why, really,<br/> + There's nothing special of my own to show!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>So, to the actively eternal<br/> + Creative force, in cold disdain<br/> + You now oppose the fist infernal,<br/> + Whose wicked clench is all in vain!<br/> + Some other labor seek thou rather,<br/> + Queer Son of Chaos, to begin!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Well, we'll consider: thou canst gather<br/> + My views, when next I venture in.<br/> + Might I, perhaps, depart at present?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Why thou shouldst ask, I don't perceive.<br/> + Though our acquaintance is so recent,<br/> + For further visits thou hast leave.<br/> + The window's here, the door is yonder;<br/> + A chimney, also, you behold.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I must confess that forth I may not wander,<br/> + My steps by one slight obstacle controlled,—<br/> + The wizard's-foot, that on your threshold made is.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The pentagram prohibits thee?<br/> + Why, tell me now, thou Son of Hades,<br/> + If that prevents, how cam'st thou in to me?<br/> + Could such a spirit be so cheated?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Inspect the thing: the drawing's not completed.<br/> + The outer angle, you may see,<br/> + Is open left—the lines don't fit it.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Well,—Chance, this time, has fairly hit it!<br/> + And thus, thou'rt prisoner to me?<br/> + It seems the business has succeeded.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The poodle naught remarked, as after thee he speeded;<br/> + But other aspects now obtain:<br/> + The Devil can't get out again.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Try, then, the open window-pane!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>For Devils and for spectres this is law:<br/> + Where they have entered in, there also they withdraw.<br/> + The first is free to us; we're governed by the second.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>In Hell itself, then, laws are reckoned?<br/> + That's well! So might a compact be<br/> + Made with you gentlemen—and binding,—surely?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>All that is promised shall delight thee purely;<br/> + No skinflint bargain shalt thou see.<br/> + But this is not of swift conclusion;<br/> + We'll talk about the matter soon.<br/> + And now, I do entreat this boon—<br/> + Leave to withdraw from my intrusion.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>One moment more I ask thee to remain,<br/> + Some pleasant news, at least, to tell me.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Release me, now! I soon shall come again;<br/> + Then thou, at will, mayst question and compel me.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I have not snares around thee cast;<br/> + Thyself hast led thyself into the meshes.<br/> + Who traps the Devil, hold him fast!<br/> + Not soon a second time he'll catch a prey so precious.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>An't please thee, also I'm content to stay,<br/> + And serve thee in a social station;<br/> + But stipulating, that I may<br/> + With arts of mine afford thee recreation.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thereto I willingly agree,<br/> + If the diversion pleasant be.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>My friend, thou'lt win, past all pretences,<br/> + More in this hour to soothe thy senses,<br/> + Than in the year's monotony.<br/> + That which the dainty spirits sing thee,<br/> + The lovely pictures they shall bring thee,<br/> + Are more than magic's empty show.<br/> + Thy scent will be to bliss invited;<br/> + Thy palate then with taste delighted,<br/> + Thy nerves of touch ecstatic glow!<br/> + All unprepared, the charm I spin:<br/> + We're here together, so begin!</p> + <p>SPIRITS</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Vanish, ye darking</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Arches above him!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Loveliest weather,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Born of blue ether,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Break from the sky!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">O that the darkling</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Clouds had departed!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Starlight is sparkling,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Tranquiller-hearted</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Suns are on high.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Heaven's own children</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In beauty bewildering,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Waveringly bending,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Pass as they hover;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Longing unending</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Follows them over.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">They, with their glowing</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Garments, out-flowing,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Cover, in going,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Landscape and bower,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Where, in seclusion,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Lovers are plighted,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Lost in illusion.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bower on bower!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Tendrils unblighted!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Lo! in a shower</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Grapes that o'ercluster</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Gush into must, or</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Flow into rivers</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Of foaming and flashing</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Wine, that is dashing</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Gems, as it boundeth</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Down the high places,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And spreading, surroundeth</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">With crystalline spaces,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In happy embraces,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Blossoming forelands,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Emerald shore-lands!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the winged races</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Drink, and fly onward—</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Fly ever sunward</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To the enticing</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Islands, that flatter,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Dipping and rising</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Light on the water!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Hark, the inspiring</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Sound of their quiring!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">See, the entrancing</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Whirl of their dancing!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">All in the air are</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Freer and fairer.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Some of them scaling</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Boldly the highlands,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Others are sailing,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Circling the islands;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Others are flying;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Life-ward all hieing,—</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">All for the distant</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Star of existent</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Rapture and Love!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>He sleeps! Enough, ye fays! your airy number<br/> + Have sung him truly into slumber:<br/> + For this performance I your debtor prove.—<br/> + Not yet art thou the man, to catch the Fiend and hold him!—<br/> + With fairest images of dreams infold him,<br/> + Plunge him in seas of sweet untruth!<br/> + Yet, for the threshold's magic which controlled him,<br/> + The Devil needs a rat's quick tooth.<br/> + I use no lengthened invocation:<br/> + Here rustles one that soon will work my liberation.</p> + <p>The lord of rats and eke of mice,<br/> + Of flies and bed-bugs, frogs and lice,<br/> + Summons thee hither to the door-sill,<br/> + To gnaw it where, with just a morsel<br/> + Of oil, he paints the spot for thee:—<br/> + There com'st thou, hopping on to me!<br/> + To work, at once! The point which made me craven<br/> + Is forward, on the ledge, engraven.<br/> + Another bite makes free the door:<br/> + So, dream thy dreams, O Faust, until we meet once more!</p> + <p>FAUST <i>(awaking)</i></p> + <p>Am I again so foully cheated?<br/> + Remains there naught of lofty spirit-sway,<br/> + But that a dream the Devil counterfeited,<br/> + And that a poodle ran away?</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-081.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="IV"></a>IV</h2> + <p>THE STUDY</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>A knock? Come in! Again my quiet broken?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>'Tis I!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Come in!</span><br/></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 9em;">Thrice must the words be spoken.</span><br/></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Come in, then!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Thus thou pleasest me.</span><br/> + I hope we'll suit each other well;<br/> + For now, thy vapors to dispel,<br/> + I come, a squire of high degree,<br/> + In scarlet coat, with golden trimming,<br/> + A cloak in silken lustre swimming,<br/> + A tall cock's-feather in my hat,<br/> + A long, sharp sword for show or quarrel,—<br/> + And I advise thee, brief and flat,<br/> + To don the self-same gay apparel,<br/> + That, from this den released, and free,<br/> + Life be at last revealed to thee!<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>This life of earth, whatever my attire,<br/> + Would pain me in its wonted fashion.<br/> + Too old am I to play with passion;<br/> + Too young, to be without desire.<br/> + What from the world have I to gain?<br/> + Thou shalt abstain—renounce—refrain!<br/> + Such is the everlasting song<br/> + That in the ears of all men rings,—<br/> + That unrelieved, our whole life long,<br/> + Each hour, in passing, hoarsely sings.<br/> + In very terror I at morn awake,<br/> + Upon the verge of bitter weeping,<br/> + To see the day of disappointment break,<br/> + To no one hope of mine—not one—its promise keeping:—<br/> + That even each joy's presentiment<br/> + With wilful cavil would diminish,<br/> + With grinning masks of life prevent<br/> + My mind its fairest work to finish!<br/> + Then, too, when night descends, how anxiously<br/> + Upon my couch of sleep I lay me:<br/> + There, also, comes no rest to me,<br/> + But some wild dream is sent to fray me.<br/> + The God that in my breast is owned<br/> + Can deeply stir the inner sources;<br/> + The God, above my powers enthroned,<br/> + He cannot change external forces.<br/> + So, by the burden of my days oppressed,<br/> + Death is desired, and Life a thing unblest!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And yet is never Death a wholly welcome guest.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>O fortunate, for whom, when victory glances,<br/> + The bloody laurels on the brow he bindeth!<br/> + Whom, after rapid, maddening dances,<br/> + In clasping maiden-arms he findeth!<br/> + O would that I, before that spirit-power,<br/> + Ravished and rapt from life, had sunken!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And yet, by some one, in that nightly hour,<br/> + A certain liquid was not drunken.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Eavesdropping, ha! thy pleasure seems to be.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Omniscient am I not; yet much is known to me.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Though some familiar tone, retrieving<br/> + My thoughts from torment, led me on,<br/> + And sweet, clear echoes came, deceiving<br/> + A faith bequeathed from Childhood's dawn,<br/> + Yet now I curse whate'er entices<br/> + And snares the soul with visions vain;<br/> + With dazzling cheats and dear devices<br/> + Confines it in this cave of pain!<br/> + Cursed be, at once, the high ambition<br/> + Wherewith the mind itself deludes!<br/> + Cursed be the glare of apparition<br/> + That on the finer sense intrudes!<br/> + Cursed be the lying dream's impression<br/> + Of name, and fame, and laurelled brow!<br/> + Cursed, all that flatters as possession,<br/> + As wife and child, as knave and plow!<br/> + Cursed Mammon be, when he with treasures<br/> + To restless action spurs our fate!<br/> + Cursed when, for soft, indulgent leisures,<br/> + He lays for us the pillows straight!<br/> + Cursed be the vine's transcendent nectar,—<br/> + The highest favor Love lets fall!<br/> + Cursed, also, Hope!—cursed Faith, the spectre!<br/> + And cursed be Patience most of all!</p> + <p>CHORUS OF SPIRITS (<i>invisible</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Woe! woe!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Thou hast it destroyed,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The beautiful world,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">With powerful fist:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In ruin 'tis hurled,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">By the blow of a demigod shattered!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The scattered</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Fragments into the Void we carry,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Deploring</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The beauty perished beyond restoring.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Mightier</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">For the children of men,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Brightlier</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Build it again,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In thine own bosom build it anew!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bid the new career</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Commence,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">With clearer sense,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the new songs of cheer</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Be sung thereto!</span><br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + These are the small dependants<br/> + Who give me attendance.<br/> + Hear them, to deeds and passion<br/> + Counsel in shrewd old-fashion!<br/> + Into the world of strife,<br/> + Out of this lonely life<br/> + That of senses and sap has betrayed thee,<br/> + They would persuade thee.<br/> + This nursing of the pain forego thee,<br/> + That, like a vulture, feeds upon thy breast!<br/> + The worst society thou find'st will show thee<br/> + Thou art a man among the rest.<br/> + But 'tis not meant to thrust<br/> + Thee into the mob thou hatest!<br/> + I am not one of the greatest,<br/> + Yet, wilt thou to me entrust<br/> + Thy steps through life, I'll guide thee,—<br/> + Will willingly walk beside thee,—<br/> + Will serve thee at once and forever<br/> + With best endeavor,<br/> + And, if thou art satisfied,<br/> + Will as servant, slave, with thee abide.<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + And what shall be my counter-service therefor?<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + The time is long: thou need'st not now insist.<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + No—no! The Devil is an egotist,<br/> + And is not apt, without a why or wherefore,<br/> + "For God's sake," others to assist.<br/> + Speak thy conditions plain and clear!<br/> + With such a servant danger comes, I fear.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + <i>Here</i>, an unwearied slave, I'll wear thy tether,<br/> + And to thine every nod obedient be:<br/> + When <i>There</i> again we come together,<br/> + Then shalt thou do the same for me.<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + The <i>There</i> my scruples naught increases.<br/> + When thou hast dashed this world to pieces,<br/> + The other, then, its place may fill.<br/> + Here, on this earth, my pleasures have their sources;<br/> + Yon sun beholds my sorrows in his courses;<br/> + And when from these my life itself divorces,<br/> + Let happen all that can or will!<br/> + I'll hear no more: 'tis vain to ponder<br/> + If there we cherish love or hate,<br/> + Or, in the spheres we dream of yonder,<br/> + A High and Low our souls await.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + In this sense, even, canst thou venture.<br/> + Come, bind thyself by prompt indenture,<br/> + And thou mine arts with joy shalt see:<br/> + What no man ever saw, I'll give to thee.<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + Canst thou, poor Devil, give me whatsoever?<br/> + When was a human soul, in its supreme endeavor,<br/> + E'er understood by such as thou?<br/> + Yet, hast thou food which never satiates, now,—<br/> + The restless, ruddy gold hast thou,<br/> + That runs, quicksilver-like, one's fingers through,—<br/> + A game whose winnings no man ever knew,—<br/> + A maid that, even from my breast,<br/> + Beckons my neighbor with her wanton glances,<br/> + And Honor's godlike zest,<br/> + The meteor that a moment dances,—<br/> + Show me the fruits that, ere they're gathered, rot,<br/> + And trees that daily with new leafage clothe them!<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Such a demand alarms me not:<br/> + Such treasures have I, and can show them.<br/> + But still the time may reach us, good my friend.<br/> + When peace we crave and more luxurious diet.<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + When on an idler's bed I stretch myself in quiet.<br/> + There let, at once, my record end!<br/> + Canst thou with lying flattery rule me,<br/> + Until, self-pleased, myself I see,—<br/> + Canst thou with rich enjoyment fool me,<br/> + Let that day be the last for me!<br/> + The bet I offer.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <span style="margin-left: 9.5em;">Done!</span><br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <span style="margin-left: 12.5em;">And heartily!</span><br/> + When thus I hail the Moment flying:<br/> + "Ah, still delay—thou art so fair!"<br/> + Then bind me in thy bonds undying,<br/> + My final ruin then declare!<br/> + Then let the death-bell chime the token.<br/> + Then art thou from thy service free!<br/> + The clock may stop, the hand be broken,<br/> + Then Time be finished unto me!<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Consider well: my memory good is rated.<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + Thou hast a perfect right thereto.<br/> + My powers I have not rashly estimated:<br/> + A slave am I, whate'er I do—<br/> + If thine, or whose? 'tis needless to debate it.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Then at the Doctors'-banquet I, to-day,<br/> + Will as a servant wait behind thee.<br/> + But one thing more! Beyond all risk to bind thee,<br/> + Give me a line or two, I pray.<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + Demand'st thou, Pedant, too, a document?<br/> + Hast never known a man, nor proved his word's intent?<br/> + Is't not enough, that what I speak to-day<br/> + Shall stand, with all my future days agreeing?<br/> + In all its tides sweeps not the world away,<br/> + And shall a promise bind my being?<br/> + Yet this delusion in our hearts we bear:<br/> + Who would himself therefrom deliver?<br/> + Blest he, whose bosom Truth makes pure and fair!<br/> + No sacrifice shall he repent of ever.<br/> + Nathless a parchment, writ and stamped with care,<br/> + A spectre is, which all to shun endeavor.<br/> + The word, alas! dies even in the pen,<br/> + And wax and leather keep the lordship then.<br/> + What wilt from me, Base Spirit, say?—<br/> + Brass, marble, parchment, paper, clay?<br/> + The terms with graver, quill, or chisel, stated?<br/> + I freely leave the choice to thee.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Why heat thyself, thus instantly,<br/> + With eloquence exaggerated?<br/> + Each leaf for such a pact is good;<br/> + And to subscribe thy name thou'lt take a drop of blood.<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + If thou therewith art fully satisfied,<br/> + So let us by the farce abide.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Blood is a juice of rarest quality.<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + Fear not that I this pact shall seek to sever?<br/> + The promise that I make to thee<br/> + Is just the sum of my endeavor.<br/> + I have myself inflated all too high;<br/> + My proper place is thy estate:<br/> + The Mighty Spirit deigns me no reply,<br/> + And Nature shuts on me her gate.<br/> + The thread of Thought at last is broken,<br/> + And knowledge brings disgust unspoken.<br/> + Let us the sensual deeps explore,<br/> + To quench the fervors of glowing passion!<br/> + Let every marvel take form and fashion<br/> + Through the impervious veil it wore!<br/> + Plunge we in Time's tumultuous dance,<br/> + In the rush and roll of Circumstance!<br/> + Then may delight and distress,<br/> + And worry and success,<br/> + Alternately follow, as best they can:<br/> + Restless activity proves the man!<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + For you no bound, no term is set.<br/> + Whether you everywhere be trying,<br/> + Or snatch a rapid bliss in flying,<br/> + May it agree with you, what you get!<br/> + Only fall to, and show no timid balking.<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + But thou hast heard, 'tis not of joy we're talking.<br/> + I take the wildering whirl, enjoyment's keenest pain,<br/> + Enamored hate, exhilarant disdain.<br/> + My bosom, of its thirst for knowledge sated,<br/> + Shall not, henceforth, from any pang be wrested,<br/> + And all of life for all mankind created<br/> + Shall be within mine inmost being tested:<br/> + The highest, lowest forms my soul shall borrow,<br/> + Shall heap upon itself their bliss and sorrow,<br/> + And thus, my own sole self to all their selves expanded,<br/> + I too, at last, shall with them all be stranded!<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Believe me, who for many a thousand year<br/> + The same tough meat have chewed and tested,<br/> + That from the cradle to the bier<br/> + No man the ancient leaven has digested!<br/> + Trust one of us, this Whole supernal<br/> + Is made but for a God's delight!<br/> + <i>He</i> dwells in splendor single and eternal,<br/> + But <i>us</i> he thrusts in darkness, out of sight,<br/> + And <i>you</i> he dowers with Day and Night.<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + Nay, but I will!<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + A good reply!<br/> + One only fear still needs repeating:<br/> + The art is long, the time is fleeting.<br/> + Then let thyself be taught, say I!<br/> + Go, league thyself with a poet,<br/> + Give the rein to his imagination,<br/> + Then wear the crown, and show it,<br/> + Of the qualities of his creation,—<br/> + The courage of the lion's breed,<br/> + The wild stag's speed,<br/> + The Italian's fiery blood,<br/> + The North's firm fortitude!<br/> + Let him find for thee the secret tether<br/> + That binds the Noble and Mean together.<br/> + And teach thy pulses of youth and pleasure<br/> + To love by rule, and hate by measure!<br/> + I'd like, myself, such a one to see:<br/> + Sir Microcosm his name should be.<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + What am I, then, if 'tis denied my part<br/> + The crown of all humanity to win me,<br/> + Whereto yearns every sense within me?<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Why, on the whole, thou'rt—what thou art.<br/> + Set wigs of million curls upon thy head, to raise thee,<br/> + Wear shoes an ell in height,—the truth betrays thee,<br/> + And thou remainest—what thou art.<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + I feel, indeed, that I have made the treasure<br/> + Of human thought and knowledge mine, in vain;<br/> + And if I now sit down in restful leisure,<br/> + No fount of newer strength is in my brain:<br/> + I am no hair's-breadth more in height,<br/> + Nor nearer, to the Infinite,<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Good Sir, you see the facts precisely<br/> + As they are seen by each and all.<br/> + We must arrange them now, more wisely,<br/> + Before the joys of life shall pall.<br/> + Why, Zounds! Both hands and feet are, truly—<br/> + And head and virile forces—thine:<br/> + Yet all that I indulge in newly,<br/> + Is't thence less wholly mine?<br/> + If I've six stallions in my stall,<br/> + Are not their forces also lent me?<br/> + I speed along, completest man of all,<br/> + As though my legs were four-and-twenty.<br/> + Take hold, then! let reflection rest,<br/> + And plunge into the world with zest!<br/> + I say to thee, a speculative wight<br/> + Is like a beast on moorlands lean,<br/> + That round and round some fiend misleads to evil plight,<br/> + While all about lie pastures fresh and green.<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + Then how shall we begin?<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + We'll try a wider sphere.<br/> + What place of martyrdom is here!<br/> + Is't life, I ask, is't even prudence,<br/> + To bore thyself and bore the students?<br/> + Let Neighbor Paunch to that attend!<br/> + Why plague thyself with threshing straw forever?<br/> + The best thou learnest, in the end<br/> + Thou dar'st not tell the youngsters—never!<br/> + I hear one's footsteps, hither steering.<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + To see him now I have no heart.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + So long the poor boy waits a hearing,<br/> + He must not unconsoled depart.<br/> + Thy cap and mantle straightway lend me!<br/> + I'll play the comedy with art.<br/> + <br/> + (<i>He disguises himself</i>.)<br/> + <br/> + My wits, be certain, will befriend me.<br/> + But fifteen minutes' time is all I need;<br/> + For our fine trip, meanwhile, prepare thyself with speed!<br/> + <br/> +</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + [<i>Exit</i> FAUST.<br/> + <br/> + </div> + <p> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + (<i>In</i> FAUST'S <i>long mantle</i>.)<br/> + <br/> + Reason and Knowledge only thou despise,<br/> + The highest strength in man that lies!<br/> + Let but the Lying Spirit bind thee<br/> + With magic works and shows that blind thee,<br/> + And I shall have thee fast and sure!—<br/> + Fate such a bold, untrammelled spirit gave him,<br/> + As forwards, onwards, ever must endure;<br/> + Whose over-hasty impulse drave him<br/> + Past earthly joys he might secure.<br/> + Dragged through the wildest life, will I enslave him,<br/> + Through flat and stale indifference;<br/> + With struggling, chilling, checking, so deprave him<br/> + That, to his hot, insatiate sense,<br/> + The dream of drink shall mock, but never lave him:<br/> + Refreshment shall his lips in vain implore—<br/> + Had he not made himself the Devil's, naught could save him,<br/> + Still were he lost forevermore!<br/> + <br/> + (<i>A</i> STUDENT <i>enters</i>.)<br/> + <br/> + STUDENT<br/> + <br/> + A short time, only, am I here,<br/> + And come, devoted and sincere,<br/> + To greet and know the man of fame,<br/> + Whom men to me with reverence name.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Your courtesy doth flatter me:<br/> + You see a man, as others be.<br/> + Have you, perchance, elsewhere begun?<br/> + <br/> + STUDENT<br/> + <br/> + Receive me now, I pray, as one<br/> + Who comes to you with courage good,<br/> + Somewhat of cash, and healthy blood:<br/> + My mother was hardly willing to let me;<br/> + But knowledge worth having I fain would get me.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Then you have reached the right place now.<br/> + <br/> + STUDENT<br/> + <br/> + I'd like to leave it, I must avow;<br/> + I find these walls, these vaulted spaces<br/> + Are anything but pleasant places.<br/> + Tis all so cramped and close and mean;<br/> + One sees no tree, no glimpse of green,<br/> + And when the lecture-halls receive me,<br/> + Seeing, hearing, and thinking leave me.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + All that depends on habitude.<br/> + So from its mother's breasts a child<br/> + At first, reluctant, takes its food,<br/> + But soon to seek them is beguiled.<br/> + Thus, at the breasts of Wisdom clinging,<br/> + Thou'lt find each day a greater rapture bringing.<br/> + <br/> + STUDENT<br/> + <br/> + I'll hang thereon with joy, and freely drain them;<br/> + But tell me, pray, the proper means to gain them.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Explain, before you further speak,<br/> + The special faculty you seek.<br/> + <br/> + STUDENT<br/> + <br/> + I crave the highest erudition;<br/> + And fain would make my acquisition<br/> + All that there is in Earth and Heaven,<br/> + In Nature and in Science too.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Here is the genuine path for you;<br/> + Yet strict attention must be given.<br/> + <br/> + STUDENT<br/> + <br/> + Body and soul thereon I'll wreak;<br/> + Yet, truly, I've some inclination<br/> + On summer holidays to seek<br/> + A little freedom and recreation.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Use well your time! It flies so swiftly from us;<br/> + But time through order may be won, I promise.<br/> + So, Friend (my views to briefly sum),<br/> + First, the <i>collegium logicum</i>.<br/> + There will your mind be drilled and braced,<br/> + As if in Spanish boots 'twere laced,<br/> + And thus, to graver paces brought,<br/> + 'Twill plod along the path of thought,<br/> + Instead of shooting here and there,<br/> + A will-o'-the-wisp in murky air.<br/> + Days will be spent to bid you know,<br/> + What once you did at a single blow,<br/> + Like eating and drinking, free and strong,—<br/> + That one, two, three! thereto belong.<br/> + Truly the fabric of mental fleece<br/> + Resembles a weaver's masterpiece,<br/> + Where a thousand threads one treadle throws,<br/> + Where fly the shuttles hither and thither.<br/> + Unseen the threads are knit together.<br/> + And an infinite combination grows.<br/> + Then, the philosopher steps in<br/> + And shows, no otherwise it could have been:<br/> + The first was so, the second so,<br/> + Therefore the third and fourth are so;<br/> + Were not the first and second, then<br/> + The third and fourth had never been.<br/> + The scholars are everywhere believers,<br/> + But never succeed in being weavers.<br/> + He who would study organic existence,<br/> + First drives out the soul with rigid persistence;<br/> + Then the parts in his hand he may hold and class,<br/> + But the spiritual link is lost, alas!<br/> + <i>Encheiresin natures</i>, this Chemistry names,<br/> + Nor knows how herself she banters and blames!<br/> + <br/> + STUDENT<br/> + <br/> + I cannot understand you quite.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Your mind will shortly be set aright,<br/> + When you have learned, all things reducing,<br/> + To classify them for your using.<br/> + <br/> + STUDENT<br/> + <br/> + I feel as stupid, from all you've said,<br/> + As if a mill-wheel whirled in my head!<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + And after—first and foremost duty—Of<br/> + Metaphysics learn the use and beauty!<br/> + See that you most profoundly gain<br/> + What does not suit the human brain!<br/> + A splendid word to serve, you'll find<br/> + For what goes in—or won't go in—your mind.<br/> + But first, at least this half a year,<br/> + To order rigidly adhere;<br/> + Five hours a day, you understand,<br/> + And when the clock strikes, be on hand!<br/> + Prepare beforehand for your part<br/> + With paragraphs all got by heart,<br/> + So you can better watch, and look<br/> + That naught is said but what is in the book:<br/> + Yet in thy writing as unwearied be,<br/> + As did the Holy Ghost dictate to thee!<br/> + <br/> + STUDENT<br/> + <br/> + No need to tell me twice to do it!<br/> + I think, how useful 'tis to write;<br/> + For what one has, in black and white,<br/> + One carries home and then goes through it.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Yet choose thyself a faculty!<br/> + <br/> + STUDENT<br/> + <br/> + I cannot reconcile myself to Jurisprudence.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Nor can I therefore greatly blame you students:<br/> + I know what science this has come to be.<br/> + All rights and laws are still transmitted<br/> + Like an eternal sickness of the race,—<br/> + From generation unto generation fitted,<br/> + And shifted round from place to place.<br/> + Reason becomes a sham, Beneficence a worry:<br/> + Thou art a grandchild, therefore woe to thee!<br/> + The right born with us, ours in verity,<br/> + This to consider, there's, alas! no hurry.<br/> + <br/> + STUDENT<br/> + <br/> + My own disgust is strengthened by your speech:<br/> + O lucky he, whom you shall teach!<br/> + I've almost for Theology decided.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + I should not wish to see you here misguided:<br/> + For, as regards this science, let me hint<br/> + 'Tis very hard to shun the false direction;<br/> + There's so much secret poison lurking in 't,<br/> + So like the medicine, it baffles your detection.<br/> + Hear, therefore, one alone, for that is best, in sooth,<br/> + And simply take your master's words for truth.<br/> + On <i>words</i> let your attention centre!<br/> + Then through the safest gate you'll enter<br/> + The temple-halls of Certainty.<br/> + <br/> + STUDENT<br/> + <br/> + Yet in the word must some idea be.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Of course! But only shun too over-sharp a tension,<br/> + For just where fails the comprehension,<br/> + A word steps promptly in as deputy.<br/> + With words 'tis excellent disputing;<br/> + Systems to words 'tis easy suiting;<br/> + On words 'tis excellent believing;<br/> + No word can ever lose a jot from thieving.<br/> + <br/> + STUDENT<br/> + <br/> + Pardon! With many questions I detain you.<br/> + Yet must I trouble you again.<br/> + Of Medicine I still would fain<br/> + Hear one strong word that might explain you.<br/> + Three years is but a little space.<br/> + And, God! who can the field embrace?<br/> + If one some index could be shown,<br/> + 'Twere easier groping forward, truly.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>aside</i>)<br/> + <br/> + I'm tired enough of this dry tone,—<br/> + Must play the Devil again, and fully.<br/> + <br/> +</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + (<i>Aloud</i>)<br/> + </div> + <p> + <br/> + To grasp the spirit of Medicine is easy:<br/> + Learn of the great and little world your fill,<br/> + To let it go at last, so please ye,<br/> + Just as God will!<br/> + In vain that through the realms of science you may drift;<br/> + Each one learns only—just what learn he can:<br/> + Yet he who grasps the Moment's gift,<br/> + He is the proper man.<br/> + Well-made you are, 'tis not to be denied,<br/> + The rest a bold address will win you;<br/> + If you but in yourself confide,<br/> + At once confide all others in you.<br/> + To lead the women, learn the special feeling!<br/> + Their everlasting aches and groans,<br/> + In thousand tones,<br/> + Have all one source, one mode of healing;<br/> + And if your acts are half discreet,<br/> + You'll always have them at your feet.<br/> + A title first must draw and interest them,<br/> + And show that yours all other arts exceeds;<br/> + Then, as a greeting, you are free to touch and test them,<br/> + While, thus to do, for years another pleads.<br/> + You press and count the pulse's dances,<br/> + And then, with burning sidelong glances,<br/> + You clasp the swelling hips, to see<br/> + If tightly laced her corsets be.<br/> + <br/> + STUDENT<br/> + <br/> + That's better, now! The How and Where, one sees.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + My worthy friend, gray are all theories,<br/> + And green alone Life's golden tree.<br/> + <br/> + STUDENT<br/> + <br/> + I swear to you, 'tis like a dream to me.<br/> + Might I again presume, with trust unbounded,<br/> + To hear your wisdom thoroughly expounded?<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Most willingly, to what extent I may.<br/> + <br/> + STUDENT<br/> + <br/> + I cannot really go away:<br/> + Allow me that my album first I reach you,—<br/> + Grant me this favor, I beseech you!<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Assuredly.<br/> + <br/> + (<i>He writes, and returns the book</i>.)<br/> + <br/> + STUDENT (<i>reads</i>)<br/> + <br/> +</p> + <div class="indented"> + <i>Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum</i>.<br/> + </div> + <p> + (<i>Closes the book with reverence, and withdraws</i>)<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + Follow the ancient text, and the snake thou wast ordered to trample!<br/> + With all thy likeness to God, thou'lt yet be a sorry example!<br/> + <br/> + (FAUST <i>enters</i>.)<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + Now, whither shall we go?<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + As best it pleases thee.<br/> + The little world, and then the great, we'll see.<br/> + With what delight, what profit winning,<br/> + Shalt thou sponge through the term beginning!<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + Yet with the flowing beard I wear,<br/> + Both ease and grace will fail me there.<br/> + The attempt, indeed, were a futile strife;<br/> + I never could learn the ways of life.<br/> + I feel so small before others, and thence<br/> + Should always find embarrassments.<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + My friend, thou soon shalt lose all such misgiving:<br/> + Be thou but self-possessed, thou hast the art of living!<br/> + <br/> + FAUST<br/> + <br/> + How shall we leave the house, and start?<br/> + Where hast thou servant, coach and horses?<br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <br/> + We'll spread this cloak with proper art,<br/> + Then through the air direct our courses.<br/> + But only, on so bold a flight,<br/> + Be sure to have thy luggage light.<br/> + A little burning air, which I shall soon prepare us,<br/> + Above the earth will nimbly bear us,<br/> + And, if we're light, we'll travel swift and clear:<br/> + I gratulate thee on thy new career!<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + <br/> + <br/> + <br/> +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-102.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="V"></a>V</h2> + <p> + <br/> + <br/> + AUERBACH'S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG<br/> + <br/> + <br/> + CAROUSAL OF JOLLY COMPANIONS<br/> + <br/> + FROSCH<br/> + <br/> + Is no one laughing? no one drinking?<br/> + I'll teach you how to grin, I'm thinking.<br/> + To-day you're like wet straw, so tame;<br/> + And usually you're all aflame.<br/> + <br/> + BRANDER<br/> + <br/> + Now that's your fault; from you we nothing see,<br/> + No beastliness and no stupidity.<br/> + <br/> + FROSCH<br/> + <br/> + (<i>Pours a glass of wine over</i> BRANDER'S <i>head</i>.)<br/> + There's both together!<br/> + <br/> + BRANDER<br/> + <br/> + </p> + <div class="indenteds"> + Twice a swine!<br/> + </div> + <p> + <br/> + FROSCH<br/> + <br/> + You wanted them: I've given you mine.<br/> + <br/> + SIEBEL<br/> + <br/> + Turn out who quarrels—out the door!<br/> + With open throat sing chorus, drink and roar!<br/> + Up! holla! ho!<br/> + <br/> + ALTMAYER<br/> + <br/> + Woe's me, the fearful bellow!<br/> + Bring cotton, quick! He's split my ears, that fellow.<br/> + <br/> + SIEBEL<br/> + <br/> + When the vault echoes to the song,<br/> + One first perceives the bass is deep and strong.<br/> + <br/> + FROSCH<br/> + <br/> + Well said! and out with him that takes the least offence!<br/> + </p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <i>Ah, tara, lara da</i>!<br/> + </div> + <p> + <br/> + ALTMAYER<br/> + <br/> + </p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <i>Ah, tara, lara, da</i>!<br/> + </div> + <p> + <br/> + FROSCH<br/> + <br/> + The throats are tuned, commence!<br/> + <br/> +</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + (<i>Sings</i>.)<br/> + </div> + + <div class="indented"> + <i>The dear old holy Roman realm,<br/> + How does it hold together</i>?<br/> + </div> + <p> + <br/> + BRANDER<br/> + <br/> + A nasty song! Fie! a political song—<br/> + A most offensive song! Thank God, each morning, therefore,<br/> + That you have not the Roman realm to care for!<br/> + At least, I hold it so much gain for me,<br/> + That I nor Chancellor nor Kaiser be.<br/> + Yet also we must have a ruling head, I hope,<br/> + And so we'll choose ourselves a Pope.<br/> + You know the quality that can<br/> + Decide the choice, and elevate the man.<br/> + <br/> + FROSCH<br/> + </p> + <div class="indentedss"> + (<i>sings</i>)<br/> + <br/> + </div> + <div class="indented"> + <i>Soar up, soar up, Dame Nightingale!</i><br/> + Ten thousand times my sweetheart hail! + </div> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>No, greet my sweetheart not! I tell you, I'll resent it.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>My sweetheart greet and kiss! I dare you to prevent it!</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>(<i>Sings</i>.)<br/> + </p> + </div> + + <div class="indented"> + <p><i>Draw the latch! the darkness makes:</i><br/> + Draw the latch! the lover wakes.<br/> + Shut the latch! the morning breaks</p> + </div> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Yes, sing away, sing on, and praise, and brag of her!<br/> + I'll wait my proper time for laughter:<br/> + Me by the nose she led, and now she'll lead you after.<br/> + Her paramour should be an ugly gnome,<br/> + Where four roads cross, in wanton play to meet her:<br/> + An old he-goat, from Blocksberg coming home,<br/> + Should his good-night in lustful gallop bleat her!<br/> + A fellow made of genuine flesh and blood<br/> + Is for the wench a deal too good.<br/> + Greet her? Not I: unless, when meeting,<br/> + To smash her windows be a greeting!</p> + <p>BRANDER (<i>pounding on the table</i>)</p> + <p>Attention! Hearken now to me!<br/> + Confess, Sirs, I know how to live.<br/> + Enamored persons here have we,<br/> + And I, as suits their quality,<br/> + Must something fresh for their advantage give.<br/> + Take heed! 'Tis of the latest cut, my strain,<br/> + And all strike in at each refrain!</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">(<i>He sings</i>.)</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">There was a rat in the cellar-nest,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Whom fat and butter made smoother:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He had a paunch beneath his vest</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Like that of Doctor Luther.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The cook laid poison cunningly,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And then as sore oppressed was he</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As if he had love in his bosom.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">CHORUS (<i>shouting</i>)</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As if he had love in his bosom!</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">BRANDER</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He ran around, he ran about,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">His thirst in puddles laving;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He gnawed and scratched the house + throughout.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">But nothing cured his raving.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He whirled and jumped, with torment + mad,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And soon enough the poor beast had,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As if he had love in his bosom.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">CHORUS</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As if he had love in his bosom!</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">BRANDER</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And driven at last, in open day,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He ran into the kitchen,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Fell on the hearth, and squirming + lay,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In the last convulsion twitching.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Then laughed the murderess in her + glee:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"Ha! ha! he's at his last gasp," said + she,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"As if he had love in his bosom!"</span><br/> + </p> + <p>CHORUS</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As if he had love in his bosom!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>How the dull fools enjoy the matter!<br/> + To me it is a proper art<br/> + Poison for such poor rats to scatter.</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>Perhaps you'll warmly take their part?</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>The bald-pate pot-belly I have noted:<br/> + Misfortune tames him by degrees;<br/> + For in the rat by poison bloated<br/> + His own most natural form he sees.</p> + <p>FAUST AND MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Before all else, I bring thee hither<br/> + Where boon companions meet together,<br/> + To let thee see how smooth life runs away.<br/> + Here, for the folk, each day's a holiday:<br/> + With little wit, and ease to suit them,<br/> + They whirl in narrow, circling trails,<br/> + Like kittens playing with their tails?<br/> + And if no headache persecute them,<br/> + So long the host may credit give,<br/> + They merrily and careless live.</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>The fact is easy to unravel,<br/> + Their air's so odd, they've just returned from travel:<br/> + A single hour they've not been here.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>You've verily hit the truth! Leipzig to me is dear:<br/> + Paris in miniature, how it refines its people!</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Who are the strangers, should you guess?</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Let me alone! I'll set them first to drinking,<br/> + And then, as one a child's tooth draws, with cleverness,<br/> + I'll worm their secret out, I'm thinking.<br/> + They're of a noble house, that's very clear:<br/> + Haughty and discontented they appear.</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>They're mountebanks, upon a revel.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Perhaps.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>Look out, I'll smoke them now!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>Not if he had them by the neck, I vow,<br/> + Would e'er these people scent the Devil!</p> + <p>FAUST Fair greeting, gentlemen!</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Our thanks: we give the same.<br/> + </p> + </div> + <div class="indented"> + (<i>Murmurs, inspecting</i> MEPHISTOPHELES <i>from the side</i>.)<br/> + </div> + <p> + In one foot is the fellow lame?<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Is it permitted that we share your leisure?<br/> + In place of cheering drink, which one seeks vainly here,<br/> + Your company shall give us pleasure.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>A most fastidious person you appear.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>No doubt 'twas late when you from Rippach started?<br/> + And supping there with Hans occasioned your delay?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>We passed, without a call, to-day.<br/> + At our last interview, before we parted<br/> + Much of his cousins did he speak, entreating<br/> + That we should give to each his kindly greeting.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>(<i>He bows to</i> FROSCH.)</p> + </div> + <p>ALTMAYER (<i>aside</i>)</p> + <p>You have it now! he understands.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>A knave sharp-set!</p> + </div> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Just wait awhile: I'll have him yet.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>If I am right, we heard the sound<br/> + Of well-trained voices, singing chorus;<br/> + And truly, song must here rebound<br/> + Superbly from the arches o'er us.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Are you, perhaps, a virtuoso?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>O no! my wish is great, my power is only so-so.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Give us a song!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>If you desire, a number.</p> + </div> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>So that it be a bran-new strain!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>We've just retraced our way from. Spain,<br/> + The lovely land of wine, and song, and slumber.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>(<i>Sings</i>.)</p> + </div> + <p>There was a king once reigning,<br/> + Who had a big black flea—</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Hear, hear! A flea! D'ye rightly take the jest?<br/> + I call a flea a tidy guest.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>sings</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">There was a king once reigning,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Who had a big black flea,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And loved him past explaining,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As his own son were he.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He called his man of stitches;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The tailor came straightway:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Here, measure the lad for breeches.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And measure his coat, I say!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>But mind, allow the tailor no caprices:<br/> + Enjoin upon him, as his head is dear,<br/> + To most exactly measure, sew and shear,<br/> + So that the breeches have no creases!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In silk and velvet gleaming</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He now was wholly drest—</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Had a coat with ribbons streaming,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A cross upon his breast.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He had the first of stations,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A minister's star and name;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And also all his relations</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Great lords at court became.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the lords and ladies of honor</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Were plagued, awake and in bed;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The queen she got them upon her,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The maids were bitten and bled.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And they did not dare to brush them,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Or scratch them, day or night:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We crack them and we crush them,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">At once, whene'er they bite.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">CHORUS (<i>shouting</i>)</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We crack them and we crush them,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">At once, whene'er they bite!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>FROSCH Bravo! bravo! that was fine.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Every flea may it so befall!</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>Point your fingers and nip them all!</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Hurrah for Freedom! Hurrah for wine!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I fain would drink with you, my glass to Freedom clinking,<br/> + If 'twere a better wine that here I see you drinking.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Don't let us hear that speech again!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Did I not fear the landlord might complain,<br/> + I'd treat these worthy guests, with pleasure,<br/> + To some from out our cellar's treasure.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Just treat, and let the landlord me arraign!</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>And if the wine be good, our praises shall be ample.<br/> + But do not give too very small a sample;<br/> + For, if its quality I decide,<br/> + With a good mouthful I must be supplied.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER (<i>aside</i>)</p> + <p>They're from the Rhine! I guessed as much, before.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Bring me a gimlet here!</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>What shall therewith be done?<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>You've not the casks already at the door?<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Yonder, within the landlord's box of tools, there's one!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>takes the gimlet</i>)</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>(<i>To</i> FROSCH.)</p> + </div> + <p>Now, give me of your taste some intimation.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>How do you mean? Have you so many kinds?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The choice is free: make up your minds.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER (<i>to</i> FROSCH)</p> + <p>Aha! you lick your chops, from sheer anticipation.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Good! if I have the choice, so let the wine be Rhenish!<br/> + Our Fatherland can best the sparkling cup replenish.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>(<i>boring a hole in the edge of the table, at the place where</i><br/> + FROSCH <i>sits</i>)</p> + <p>Get me a little wax, to make the stoppers, quick!</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Ah! I perceive a juggler's trick.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> BRANDER)</p> + <p>And you?</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>Champagne shall be my wine,<br/> + And let it sparkle fresh and fine!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>(<i>bores: in the meantime one has made the wax stoppers, and<br/> + plugged the holes with them</i>.)</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>What's foreign one can't always keep quite clear of,<br/> + For good things, oft, are not so near;<br/> + A German can't endure the French to see or hear of,<br/> + Yet drinks their wines with hearty cheer.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>(<i>as</i> MEPHISTOPHELES <i>approaches his seat</i>)<br/> + For me, I grant, sour wine is out of place;<br/> + Fill up my glass with sweetest, will you?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>boring</i>)</p> + <p>Tokay shall flow at once, to fill you!</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>No—look me, Sirs, straight in the face!<br/> + I see you have your fun at our expense.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>O no! with gentlemen of such pretence,<br/> + That were to venture far, indeed.<br/> + Speak out, and make your choice with speed! With what a vintage can I serve you?</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>With any—only satisfy our need.</p> + <p>(<i>After the holes have been bored and plugged</i>)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>with singular gestures</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Grapes the vine-stem bears,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Horns the he-goat wears!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The grapes are juicy, the vines are + wood,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The wooden table gives wine as good!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Into the depths of Nature + peer,—</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Only believe there's a miracle here!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>Now draw the stoppers, and drink your fill!</p> + <p>ALL</p> + <p>(<i>as they draw out the stoppers, and the wine which has been<br/> + desired flows into the glass of each)</i></p> + <p>O beautiful fountain, that flows at will!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But have a care that you nothing spill!</p> + <p>(<i>They drink repeatedly</i>.)</p> + <p>ALL (<i>sing</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As 'twere five hundred hogs, we + feel</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">So cannibalic jolly!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>See, now, the race is happy—it is free!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>To leave them is my inclination.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Take notice, first! their bestiality<br/> + Will make a brilliant demonstration.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>(<i>drinks carelessly: the wine spills upon the earth, and turns to<br/> + flame</i>)</p> + <p>Help! Fire! Help! Hell-fire is sent!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>charming away the flame)</i></p> + <p>Be quiet, friendly element!</p> + <p>(<i>To the revellers</i>)</p> + <p>A bit of purgatory 'twas for this time, merely.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>What mean you? Wait!—you'll pay for't dearly!<br/> + You'll know us, to your detriment.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Don't try that game a second time upon us!</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>I think we'd better send him packing quietly.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>What, Sir! you dare to make so free,<br/> + And play your hocus-pocus on us!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Be still, old wine-tub.</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Broomstick, you!<br/> + You face it out, impertinent and heady?</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>Just wait! a shower of blows is ready.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>(<i>draws a stopper out of the table: fire flies in his face</i>.)<br/> + I burn! I burn!</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>'Tis magic! Strike—<br/> + The knave is outlawed! Cut him as you like!<br/> + (<i>They draw their knives, and rush upon</i> MEPHISTOPHELES.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>with solemn gestures</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">False word and form of air,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Change place, and sense ensnare!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Be here—and there!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>(<i>They stand amazed and look at each other</i>.)</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Where am I? What a lovely land!</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>Vines? Can I trust my eyes?</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>And purple grapes at hand!</p> + </div> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>Here, over this green arbor bending,<br/> + See what a vine! what grapes depending!</p> + <p>(<i>He takes</i> SIEBEL <i>by the nose: the others do the same reciprocally,<br/> + and raise their knives</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>as above</i>)</p> + <p>Loose, Error, from their eyes the band,<br/> + And how the Devil jests, be now enlightened!</p> + <p>(<i>He disappears with</i> FAUST: <i>the revellers start and separate</i>.)</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>What happened?</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>How?</p> + </div> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Was that your nose I tightened?</p> + </div> + <p>BRANDER (<i>to</i> SIEBEL)</p> + <p>And yours that still I have in hand?</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>It was a blow that went through every limb!<br/> + Give me a chair! I sink! my senses swim.</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>But what has happened, tell me now?</p> + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>Where is he? If I catch the scoundrel hiding,<br/> + He shall not leave alive, I vow.</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>I saw him with these eyes upon a wine-cask riding<br/> + Out of the cellar-door, just now.<br/> + Still in my feet the fright like lead is weighing.<br/> + </p> + <div class="indenteds"> + (<i>He turns towards the table</i>.)<br/> + </div> + <p> + <br/> + Why! If the fount of wine should still be playing?<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>SIEBEL</p> + <p>'Twas all deceit, and lying, false design!</p> + <p>FROSCH</p> + <p>And yet it seemed as I were drinking wine.</p> + <p>BRANDER</p> + <p>But with the grapes how was it, pray?</p> + <p>ALTMAYER</p> + <p>Shall one believe no miracles, just say!</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-117.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-118.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="VI"></a>VI</h2> + <p>WITCHES' KITCHEN</p> + <p>(<i>Upon a low hearth stands a great caldron, under which a fire<br/> + is burning. Various figures appear in the vapors which<br/> + rise from the caldron. An ape sits beside it, skims it, and<br/> + watches lest it boil over. The he-ape, with the young<br/> + ones, sits near and warms himself. Ceiling and walls are<br/> + covered with the most fantastic witch-implements</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>These crazy signs of witches' craft repel me!<br/> + I shall recover, dost thou tell me,<br/> + Through this insane, chaotic play?<br/> + From an old hag shall I demand assistance?<br/> + And will her foul mess take away<br/> + Full thirty years from my existence?<br/> + Woe's me, canst thou naught better find!<br/> + Another baffled hope must be lamented:<br/> + Has Nature, then, and has a noble mind<br/> + Not any potent balsam yet invented?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Once more, my friend, thou talkest sensibly.<br/> + There is, to make thee young, a simpler mode and apter;<br/> + But in another book 'tis writ for thee,<br/> + And is a most eccentric chapter.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Yet will I know it.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Good! the method is revealed<br/> + Without or gold or magic or physician.<br/> + Betake thyself to yonder field,<br/> + There hoe and dig, as thy condition;<br/> + Restrain thyself, thy sense and will<br/> + Within a narrow sphere to flourish;<br/> + With unmixed food thy body nourish;<br/> + Live with the ox as ox, and think it not a theft<br/> + That thou manur'st the acre which thou reapest;—<br/> + That, trust me, is the best mode left,<br/> + Whereby for eighty years thy youth thou keepest!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I am not used to that; I cannot stoop to try it—<br/> + To take the spade in hand, and ply it.<br/> + The narrow being suits me not at all.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Then to thine aid the witch must call.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Wherefore the hag, and her alone?<br/> + Canst thou thyself not brew the potion?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>That were a charming sport, I own:<br/> + I'd build a thousand bridges meanwhile, I've a notion.<br/> + Not Art and Science serve, alone;<br/> + Patience must in the work be shown.<br/> + Long is the calm brain active in creation;<br/> + Time, only, strengthens the fine fermentation.<br/> + And all, belonging thereunto,<br/> + Is rare and strange, howe'er you take it:<br/> + The Devil taught the thing, 'tis true,<br/> + And yet the Devil cannot make it.<br/> + (<i>Perceiving the Animals</i>)<br/> + See, what a delicate race they be!<br/> + That is the maid! the man is he!<br/> + (<i>To the Animals</i>)<br/> + It seems the mistress has gone away?</p> + <p>THE ANIMALS</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Carousing, to-day!<br/> + Off and about,<br/> + By the chimney out!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>What time takes she for dissipating?</p> + <p>THE ANIMALS</p> + <p>While we to warm our paws are waiting.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>How findest thou the tender creatures?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Absurder than I ever yet did see.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Why, just such talk as this, for me,<br/> + Is that which has the most attractive features!</p> + <p>(<i>To the Animals</i>)</p> + <p>But tell me now, ye cursed puppets,<br/> + Why do ye stir the porridge so?</p> + <p>THE ANIMALS</p> + <p>We're cooking watery soup for beggars.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Then a great public you can show.</p> + <p>THE HE-APE</p> + <p>(<i>comes up and fawns on</i> MEPHISTOPHELES)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">O cast thou the dice!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Make me rich in a trice,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Let me win in good season!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Things are badly controlled,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And had I but gold,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">So had I my reason.</span><br/> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>How would the ape be sure his luck enhances.<br/> + Could he but try the lottery's chances!</p> + <p>(<i>In the meantime the young apes have been playing with a<br/> + large ball, which they now roll forward</i>.)</p> + <p>THE HE-APE</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The world's the ball:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Doth rise and fall,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And roll incessant:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Like glass doth ring,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A hollow thing,—</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">How soon will't spring,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And drop, quiescent?</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Here bright it gleams,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Here brighter seems:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I live at present!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Dear son, I say,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Keep thou away!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Thy doom is spoken!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">'Tis made of clay,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And will be broken.</span><br/> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>What means the sieve?</p> + <p>THE HE-APE (<i>taking it down</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Wert thou the thief,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I'd know him and shame him.</span><br/> + <br/> + (<i>He runs to the</i> SHE-APE, <i>and lets her look through it</i>.)<br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Look through the sieve!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Know'st thou the thief,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And darest not name him?</span><br/> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>approaching the fire)</i></p> + <p>And what's this pot?</p> + <p>HE-APE AND SHE-APE</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The fool knows it not!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He knows not the pot,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He knows not the kettle!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Impertinent beast!</p> + <p>THE HE-APE</p> + <p>Take the brush here, at least,<br/> + And sit down on the settle!</p> + <p>(<i>He invites</i> MEPHISTOPHELES <i>to sit down</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>(<i>who during all this time has been standing before a mirror,<br/> + now approaching and now retreating from it</i>)</p> + <p>What do I see? What heavenly form revealed<br/> + Shows through the glass from Magic's fair dominions!<br/> + O lend me, Love, the swiftest of thy pinions,<br/> + And bear me to her beauteous field!<br/> + Ah, if I leave this spot with fond designing,<br/> + If I attempt to venture near,<br/> + Dim, as through gathering mist, her charms appear!—<br/> + A woman's form, in beauty shining!<br/> + Can woman, then, so lovely be?<br/> + And must I find her body, there reclining,<br/> + Of all the heavens the bright epitome?<br/> + Can Earth with such a thing be mated?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Why, surely, if a God first plagues Himself six days,<br/> + Then, self-contented, <i>Bravo</i>! says,<br/> + Must something clever be created.<br/> + This time, thine eyes be satiate!<br/> + I'll yet detect thy sweetheart and ensnare her,<br/> + And blest is he, who has the lucky fate,<br/> + Some day, as bridegroom, home to bear her.</p> + <p>(FAUST <i>gazes continually in the mirror</i>. MEPHISTOPHELES,<br/> + <i>stretching himself out on the settle, and playing with the<br/> + brush, continues to speak</i>.)</p> + <p>So sit I, like the King upon his throne:<br/> + I hold the sceptre, here,—and lack the crown alone.</p> + <p>THE ANIMALS</p> + <p>(<i>who up to this time have been making all kinds of fantastic<br/> + movements together bring a crown to</i> MEPHISTOPHELES<br/> + <i>with great noise</i>.)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">O be thou so good</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">With sweat and with blood</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The crown to belime!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>(<i>They handle the crown awkwardly and break it into two<br/> + pieces, with which they spring around</i>.)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">'Tis done, let it be!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We speak and we see,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We hear and we rhyme!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>FAUST (<i>before the mirror</i>)</p> + <p>Woe's me! I fear to lose my wits.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>pointing to the Animals</i>)</p> + <p>My own head, now, is really nigh to sinking.</p> + <p>THE ANIMALS</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">If lucky our hits,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And everything fits,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">'Tis thoughts, and we're thinking!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>FAUST (<i>as above</i>)</p> + <p>My bosom burns with that sweet vision;<br/> + Let us, with speed, away from here!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>in the same attitude</i>)</p> + <p>One must, at least, make this admission—<br/> + They're poets, genuine and sincere.</p> + <p>(<i>The caldron, which the</i> SHE-APE <i>has up to this time neglected<br/> + to watch, begins to boil over: there ensues a great flame</i>,<br/> + <i>which blazes out the chimney. The</i> WITCH <i>comes careering<br/> + down through the flame, with terrible cries</i>.)</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Ow! ow! ow! ow!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The damnéd beast—the curséd + sow!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To leave the kettle, and singe the + Frau!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Accurséd fere!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>(<i>Perceiving</i> FAUST <i>and</i> MEPHISTOPHELES.)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">What is that here?</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Who are you here?</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">What want you thus?</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Who sneaks to us?</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The fire-pain</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Burn bone and brain!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>(<i>She plunges the skimming-ladle into the caldron, and scatters<br/> + flames towards</i> FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, <i>and the Animals.<br/> + The Animals whimper</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>(<i>reversing the brush, which he has been holding in his hand,<br/> + and striding among the jars and glasses</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 5em;">In two! in two!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">There lies the brew!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">There lies the glass!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">The joke will pass,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">As time, foul ass!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 5em;">To the singing of thy crew.</span><br/> + </p> + <p>(<i>As the</i> WITCH <i>starts back, full of wrath and horror</i>)</p> + <p>Ha! know'st thou me? Abomination, thou!<br/> + Know'st thou, at last, thy Lord and Master?<br/> + What hinders me from smiting now<br/> + Thee and thy monkey-sprites with fell disaster?<br/> + Hast for the scarlet coat no reverence?<br/> + Dost recognize no more the tall cock's-feather?<br/> + Have I concealed this countenance?—<br/> + Must tell my name, old face of leather?</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>O pardon, Sir, the rough salute!<br/> + Yet I perceive no cloven foot;<br/> + And both your ravens, where are <i>they</i> now?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>This time, I'll let thee 'scape the debt;<br/> + For since we two together met,<br/> + 'Tis verily full many a day now.<br/> + Culture, which smooth the whole world licks,<br/> + Also unto the Devil sticks.<br/> + The days of that old Northern phantom now are over:<br/> + Where canst thou horns and tail and claws discover?<br/> + And, as regards the foot, which I can't spare, in truth,<br/> + 'Twould only make the people shun me;<br/> + Therefore I've worn, like many a spindly youth,<br/> + False calves these many years upon me.</p> + <p>THE WITCH (<i>dancing</i>)</p> + <p>Reason and sense forsake my brain,<br/> + Since I behold Squire Satan here again!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Woman, from such a name refrain!</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>Why so? What has it done to thee?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>It's long been written in the Book of Fable;<br/> + Yet, therefore, no whit better men we see:<br/> + The Evil One has left, the evil ones are stable.<br/> + Sir Baron call me thou, then is the matter good;<br/> + A cavalier am I, like others in my bearing.<br/> + Thou hast no doubt about my noble blood:<br/> + See, here's the coat-of-arms that I am wearing!</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>(<i>He makes an indecent gesture</i>.)</p> + </div> + <p>THE WITCH (<i>laughs immoderately</i>)</p> + <p>Ha! ha! That's just your way, I know:<br/> + A rogue you are, and you were always so.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>My friend, take proper heed, I pray!<br/> + To manage witches, this is just the way.</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>Wherein, Sirs, can I be of use?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Give us a goblet of the well-known juice!<br/> + But, I must beg you, of the oldest brewage;<br/> + The years a double strength produce.</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>With all my heart! Now, here's a bottle,<br/> + Wherefrom, sometimes, I wet my throttle,<br/> + Which, also, not the slightest, stinks;<br/> + And willingly a glass I'll fill him.</p> + <p>(<i>Whispering</i>)</p> + <p>Yet, if this man without due preparation drinks,<br/> + As well thou know'st, within an hour 'twill kill him.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>He is a friend of mine, with whom it will agree,<br/> + And he deserves thy kitchen's best potation:<br/> + Come, draw thy circle, speak thine adjuration,<br/> + And fill thy goblet full and free!</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>(<i>with fantastic gestures draws a circle and places mysterious<br/> + articles therein; meanwhile the glasses begin to ring, the<br/> + caldron to sound, and make a musical accompaniment.<br/> + Finally she brings a great book, and stations in the circle<br/> + the Apes, who are obliged to serve as reading-desk, and to<br/> + hold the torches. She then beckons</i> FAUST <i>to approach</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>to</i> MEPHISTOPHELES)</p> + <p>Now, what shall come of this? the creatures antic,<br/> + The crazy stuff, the gestures frantic,—<br/> + All the repulsive cheats I view,—<br/> + Are known to me, and hated, too.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>O, nonsense! That's a thing for laughter;<br/> + Don't be so terribly severe!<br/> + She juggles you as doctor now, that, after,<br/> + The beverage may work the proper cheer.</p> + <p>(<i>He persuades</i> FAUST <i>to step into the circle</i>.)</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>(<i>begins to declaim, with much emphasis, from the book</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">See, thus it's done!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Make ten of one,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And two let be,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Make even three,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And rich thou 'It be.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Cast o'er the four!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">From five and six</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">(The witch's tricks)</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Make seven and eight,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">'Tis finished straight!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And nine is one,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And ten is none.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">This is the witch's once-one's-one!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>She talks like one who raves in fever.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Thou'lt hear much more before we leave her.<br/> + 'Tis all the same: the book I can repeat,<br/> + Such time I've squandered o'er the history:<br/> + A contradiction thus complete<br/> + Is always for the wise, no less than fools, a mystery.<br/> + The art is old and new, for verily<br/> + All ages have been taught the matter,—<br/> + By Three and One, and One and Three,<br/> + Error instead of Truth to scatter.<br/> + They prate and teach, and no one interferes;<br/> + All from the fellowship of fools are shrinking.<br/> + Man usually believes, if only words he hears,<br/> + That also with them goes material for thinking!</p> + <p>THE WITCH (<i>continues</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The lofty skill</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Of Science, still</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">From all men deeply hidden!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Who takes no thought,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To him 'tis brought,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">'Tis given unsought, unbidden!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What nonsense she declaims before us!<br/> + My head is nigh to split, I fear:<br/> + It seems to me as if I hear<br/> + A hundred thousand fools in chorus.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>O Sibyl excellent, enough of adjuration!<br/> + But hither bring us thy potation,<br/> + And quickly fill the beaker to the brim!<br/> + This drink will bring my friend no injuries:<br/> + He is a man of manifold degrees,<br/> + And many draughts are known to him.</p> + <p>(<i>The</i> WITCH, <i>with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a<br/> + cup; as</i> FAUST <i>sets it to his lips, a light flame arises</i>.)</p> + <p>Down with it quickly! Drain it off!<br/> + 'Twill warm thy heart with new desire:<br/> + Art with the Devil hand and glove,<br/> + And wilt thou be afraid of fire?</p> + <p>(<i>The</i> WITCH <i>breaks the circle</i>: FAUST <i>steps forth</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And now, away! Thou dar'st not rest.</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>And much good may the liquor do thee!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to the</i> WITCH)</p> + <p>Thy wish be on Walpurgis Night expressed;<br/> + What boon I have, shall then be given unto thee.</p> + <p>THE WITCH</p> + <p>Here is a song, which, if you sometimes sing,<br/> + You'll find it of peculiar operation.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>Come, walk at once! A rapid occupation<br/> + Must start the needful perspiration,<br/> + And through thy frame the liquor's potence fling.<br/> + The noble indolence I'll teach thee then to treasure,<br/> + And soon thou'lt be aware, with keenest thrills of pleasure,<br/> + How Cupid stirs and leaps, on light and restless wing.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>One rapid glance within the mirror give me,<br/> + How beautiful that woman-form!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>No, no! The paragon of all, believe me,<br/> + Thou soon shalt see, alive and warm.</p> + <p><i>(Aside)</i></p> + <p>Thou'lt find, this drink thy blood compelling,<br/> + Each woman beautiful as Helen!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-131.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-132.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="VII"></a>VII</h2> + <p>STREET</p> + <p>FAUST MARGARET <i>(passing by)</i></p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Fair lady, let it not offend you,<br/> + That arm and escort I would lend you!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I'm neither lady, neither fair,<br/> + And home I can go without your care.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>She releases herself, and exit</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>By Heaven, the girl is wondrous fair!<br/> + Of all I've seen, beyond compare;<br/> + So sweetly virtuous and pure,<br/> + And yet a little pert, be sure!<br/> + The lip so red, the cheek's clear dawn,</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-133.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <p>I'll not forget while the world rolls on!<br/> + How she cast down her timid eyes,<br/> + Deep in my heart imprinted lies:<br/> + How short and sharp of speech was she,<br/> + Why, 'twas a real ecstasy!</p> + <p>(MEPHISTOPHELES <i>enters</i>)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Hear, of that girl I'd have possession!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Which, then?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>The one who just went by.</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>She, there? She's coming from confession,<br/> + Of every sin absolved; for I,<br/> + Behind her chair, was listening nigh.<br/> + So innocent is she, indeed,<br/> + That to confess she had no need.<br/> + I have no power o'er souls so green.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And yet, she's older than fourteen.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>How now! You're talking like Jack Rake,<br/> + Who every flower for himself would take,<br/> + And fancies there are no favors more,<br/> + Nor honors, save for him in store;<br/> + Yet always doesn't the thing succeed.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Most Worthy Pedagogue, take heed!<br/> + Let not a word of moral law be spoken!<br/> + I claim, I tell thee, all my right;<br/> + And if that image of delight<br/> + Rest not within mine arms to-night,<br/> + At midnight is our compact broken.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But think, the chances of the case!<br/> + I need, at least, a fortnight's space,<br/> + To find an opportune occasion.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Had I but seven hours for all,<br/> + I should not on the Devil call,<br/> + But win her by my own persuasion.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>You almost like a Frenchman prate;<br/> + Yet, pray, don't take it as annoyance!<br/> + Why, all at once, exhaust the joyance?<br/> + Your bliss is by no means so great<br/> + As if you'd use, to get control,<br/> + All sorts of tender rigmarole,<br/> + And knead and shape her to your thought,<br/> + As in Italian tales 'tis taught.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Without that, I have appetite.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But now, leave jesting out of sight!<br/> + I tell you, once for all, that speed<br/> + With this fair girl will not succeed;<br/> + By storm she cannot captured be;<br/> + We must make use of strategy.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Get me something the angel keeps!<br/> + Lead me thither where she sleeps!<br/> + Get me a kerchief from her breast,—<br/> + A garter that her knee has pressed!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>That you may see how much I'd fain<br/> + Further and satisfy your pain,<br/> + We will no longer lose a minute;<br/> + I'll find her room to-day, and take you in it.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And shall I see—possess her?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>No!<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p> + Unto a neighbor she must go,<br/> + And meanwhile thou, alone, mayst glow<br/> + With every hope of future pleasure,<br/> + Breathing her atmosphere in fullest measure.<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Can we go thither?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>'Tis too early yet.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>A gift for her I bid thee get!<br/> + </p> + <div class="indentedss"> + [<i>Exit</i>.<br/> + <br/> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Presents at once? That's good: he's certain to get at her!<br/> + Full many a pleasant place I know,<br/> + And treasures, buried long ago:<br/> + I must, perforce, look up the matter. <i>[Exit</i>.</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-138.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> + <p>EVENING A SMALL, NEATLY KEPT CHAMBER</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>(<i>plaiting and binding up the braids of her hair</i>)</p> + <p>I'd something give, could I but say<br/> + Who was that gentleman, to-day.<br/> + Surely a gallant man was he,<br/> + And of a noble family;<br/> + And much could I in his face behold,—<br/> + And he wouldn't, else, have been so bold!</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 15em;">[<i>Exit</i></span><br/></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES FAUST</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Come in, but gently: follow me!</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>after a moment's silence</i>)</p> + <p>Leave me alone, I beg of thee!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>prying about</i>)</p> + <p>Not every girl keeps things so neat.</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>looking around</i>)</p> + <p>O welcome, twilight soft and sweet,<br/> + That breathes throughout this hallowed shrine!<br/> + Sweet pain of love, bind thou with fetters fleet<br/> + The heart that on the dew of hope must pine!<br/> + How all around a sense impresses<br/> + Of quiet, order, and content!<br/> + This poverty what bounty blesses!<br/> + What bliss within this narrow den is pent!</p> + <p>(<i>He throws himself into a leathern arm-chair near the bed</i>.)</p> + <p>Receive me, thou, that in thine open arms<br/> + Departed joy and pain wert wont to gather!<br/> + How oft the children, with their ruddy charms,<br/> + Hung here, around this throne, where sat the father!<br/> + Perchance my love, amid the childish band,<br/> + Grateful for gifts the Holy Christmas gave her,<br/> + Here meekly kissed the grandsire's withered hand.<br/> + I feel, O maid! thy very soul<br/> + Of order and content around me whisper,—<br/> + Which leads thee with its motherly control,<br/> + The cloth upon thy board bids smoothly thee unroll,<br/> + The sand beneath thy feet makes whiter, crisper.<br/> + O dearest hand, to thee 'tis given<br/> + To change this hut into a lower heaven!<br/> + And here!</p> + <p>(<i>He lifts one of the bed-curtains</i>.)</p> + <p>What sweetest thrill is in my blood!<br/> + Here could I spend whole hours, delaying:<br/> + Here Nature shaped, as if in sportive playing,<br/> + The angel blossom from the bud.<br/> + Here lay the child, with Life's warm essence<br/> + The tender bosom filled and fair,<br/> + And here was wrought, through holier, purer presence,<br/> + The form diviner beings wear!</p> + <p>And I? What drew me here with power?<br/> + How deeply am I moved, this hour!<br/> + What seek I? Why so full my heart, and sore?<br/> + Miserable Faust! I know thee now no more.</p> + <p>Is there a magic vapor here?<br/> + I came, with lust of instant pleasure,<br/> + And lie dissolved in dreams of love's sweet leisure!<br/> + Are we the sport of every changeful atmosphere?</p> + <p>And if, this moment, came she in to me,<br/> + How would I for the fault atonement render!<br/> + How small the giant lout would be,<br/> + Prone at her feet, relaxed and tender!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Be quick! I see her there, returning.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Go! go! I never will retreat.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Here is a casket, not unmeet,<br/> + Which elsewhere I have just been earning.<br/> + Here, set it in the press, with haste!<br/> + I swear, 'twill turn her head, to spy it:<br/> + Some baubles I therein had placed,<br/> + That you might win another by it.<br/> + True, child is child, and play is play.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I know not, should I do it?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Ask you, pray?</p> + </div> + <p> + Yourself, perhaps, would keep the bubble?<br/> + Then I suggest, 'twere fair and just<br/> + To spare the lovely day your lust,<br/> + And spare to me the further trouble.<br/> + You are not miserly, I trust?<br/> + I rub my hands, in expectation tender—<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>(<i>He places the casket in the press, and locks it again</i>.)</p> + <p>Now quick, away!<br/> + The sweet young maiden to betray,<br/> + So that by wish and will you bend her;<br/> + And you look as though<br/> + To the lecture-hall you were forced to go,—<br/> + As if stood before you, gray and loath,<br/> + Physics and Metaphysics both!<br/> + But away!</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + [<i>Exeunt</i>.<br/> + <br/> + </div> + <p>MARGARET (<i>with a lamp</i>)</p> + <p>It is so close, so sultry, here!</p> + <p>(<i>She opens the window</i>)</p> + <p>And yet 'tis not so warm outside.<br/> + I feel, I know not why, such fear!—<br/> + Would mother came!—where can she bide?<br/> + My body's chill and shuddering,—<br/> + I'm but a silly, fearsome thing!</p> + <p>(<i>She begins to sing while undressing</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">There was a King in Thule,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Was faithful till the grave,—</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">To whom his mistress, dying,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">A golden goblet gave.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Naught was to him more precious;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">He drained it at every bout:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">His eyes with tears ran over,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">As oft as he drank thereout.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">When came his time of dying,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The towns in his land he told,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Naught else to his heir denying</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Except the goblet of gold.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">He sat at the royal banquet</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">With his knights of high degree,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">In the lofty hall of his fathers</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">In the Castle by the Sea.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">There stood the old carouser,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And drank the last life-glow;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And hurled the hallowed goblet</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Into the tide below.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">He saw it plunging and filling,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And sinking deep in the sea:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Then fell his eyelids forever,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And never more drank he!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>(<i>She opens the press in order to arrange her clothes, and perceives<br/> + the casket of jewels</i>.)</p> + <p>How comes that lovely casket here to me?<br/> + I locked the press, most certainly.<br/> + 'Tis truly wonderful! What can within it be?<br/> + Perhaps 'twas brought by some one as a pawn,<br/> + And mother gave a loan thereon?<br/> + And here there hangs a key to fit:<br/> + I have a mind to open it.<br/> + What is that? God in Heaven! Whence came<br/> + Such things? Never beheld I aught so fair!<br/> + Rich ornaments, such as a noble dame<br/> + On highest holidays might wear!<br/> + How would the pearl-chain suit my hair?<br/> + Ah, who may all this splendor own?</p> + <p>(<i>She adorns herself with the jewelry, and steps before the<br/> + mirror</i>.)</p> + <p>Were but the ear-rings mine, alone!<br/> + One has at once another air.<br/> + What helps one's beauty, youthful blood?<br/> + One may possess them, well and good;<br/> + But none the more do others care.<br/> + They praise us half in pity, sure:<br/> + To gold still tends,<br/> + On gold depends<br/> + All, all! Alas, we poor!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-143.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-144.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="IX"></a>IX</h2> + <p>PROMENADE</p> + <p>(FAUST, <i>walking thoughtfully up and down. To him</i> MEPHISTOPHELES.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>By all love ever rejected! By hell-fire hot and unsparing!<br/> + I wish I knew something worse, that I might use it for<br/> + swearing!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What ails thee? What is't gripes thee, elf?<br/> + A face like thine beheld I never.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I would myself unto the Devil deliver,<br/> + If I were not a Devil myself!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thy head is out of order, sadly:<br/> + It much becomes thee to be raving madly.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Just think, the pocket of a priest should get<br/> + The trinkets left for Margaret!<br/> + The mother saw them, and, instanter,<br/> + A secret dread began to haunt her.<br/> + Keen scent has she for tainted air;<br/> + She snuffs within her book of prayer,<br/> + And smells each article, to see<br/> + If sacred or profane it be;<br/> + So here she guessed, from every gem,<br/> + That not much blessing came with them.<br/> + "My child," she said, "ill-gotten good<br/> + Ensnares the soul, consumes the blood.<br/> + Before the Mother of God we'll lay it;<br/> + With heavenly manna she'll repay it!"<br/> + But Margaret thought, with sour grimace,<br/> + "A gift-horse is not out of place,<br/> + And, truly! godless cannot be<br/> + The one who brought such things to me."<br/> + A parson came, by the mother bidden:<br/> + He saw, at once, where the game was hidden,<br/> + And viewed it with a favor stealthy.<br/> + He spake: "That is the proper view,—<br/> + Who overcometh, winneth too.<br/> + The Holy Church has a stomach healthy:<br/> + Hath eaten many a land as forfeit,<br/> + And never yet complained of surfeit:<br/> + The Church alone, beyond all question,<br/> + Has for ill-gotten goods the right digestion."</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>A general practice is the same,<br/> + Which Jew and King may also claim.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Then bagged the spangles, chains, and rings,<br/> + As if but toadstools were the things,<br/> + And thanked no less, and thanked no more<br/> + Than if a sack of nuts he bore,—<br/> + Promised them fullest heavenly pay,<br/> + And deeply edified were they.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And Margaret?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Sits unrestful still,<br/> + And knows not what she should, or will;<br/> + Thinks on the jewels, day and night,<br/> + But more on him who gave her such delight.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The darling's sorrow gives me pain.<br/> + Get thou a set for her again!<br/> + The first was not a great display.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>O yes, the gentleman finds it all child's-play!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Fix and arrange it to my will;<br/> + And on her neighbor try thy skill!<br/> + Don't be a Devil stiff as paste,<br/> + But get fresh jewels to her taste!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yes, gracious Sir, in all obedience!</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>Exit</i> FAUST.</p> + </div> + <p>Such an enamored fool in air would blow<br/> + Sun, moon, and all the starry legions,<br/> + To give his sweetheart a diverting show.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>Exit</i>.</p> + </div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-147.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="X"></a>X</h2> + <p>THE NEIGHBOR'S HOUSE</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>solus</i>)</p> + <p>God forgive my husband, yet he<br/> + Hasn't done his duty by me!<br/> + Off in the world he went straightway,—<br/> + Left me lie in the straw where I lay.<br/> + And, truly, I did naught to fret him:<br/> + God knows I loved, and can't forget him!</p> + <p>(<i>She weeps</i>.)</p> + <p>Perhaps he's even dead! Ah, woe!—<br/> + Had I a certificate to show!</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>comes</i>)</p> + <p>Dame Martha!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Margaret! what's happened thee?</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I scarce can stand, my knees are trembling!<br/> + I find a box, the first resembling,<br/> + Within my press! Of ebony,—<br/> + And things, all splendid to behold,<br/> + And richer far than were the old.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>You mustn't tell it to your mother!<br/> + 'Twould go to the priest, as did the other.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Ah, look and see—just look and see!</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>adorning her</i>)</p> + <p>O, what a blessed luck for thee!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>But, ah! in the streets I dare not bear them,<br/> + Nor in the church be seen to wear them.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Yet thou canst often this way wander,<br/> + And secretly the jewels don,<br/> + Walk up and down an hour, before the mirror yonder,—<br/> + We'll have our private joy thereon.<br/> + And then a chance will come, a holiday,<br/> + When, piece by piece, can one the things abroad display,<br/> + A chain at first, then other ornament:<br/> + Thy mother will not see, and stories we'll invent.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Whoever could have brought me things so precious?<br/> + That something's wrong, I feel suspicious.</p> + <p>(<i>A knock</i>)</p> + <p>Good Heaven! My mother can that have been?</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>peeping through the blind</i>)</p> + <p>'Tis some strange gentleman.—Come in!</p> + <p>(MEPHISTOPHELES <i>enters</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>That I so boldly introduce me,<br/> + I beg you, ladies, to excuse me.</p> + <p>(<i>Steps back reverently, on seeing</i> MARGARET.)</p> + <p>For Martha Schwerdtlein I'd inquire!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>I'm she: what does the gentleman desire?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>aside to her</i>)</p> + <p>It is enough that you are she:<br/> + You've a visitor of high degree.<br/> + Pardon the freedom I have ta'en,—<br/> + Will after noon return again.</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>aloud</i>)</p> + <p>Of all things in the world! Just hear—<br/> + He takes thee for a lady, dear!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I am a creature young and poor:<br/> + The gentleman's too kind, I'm sure.<br/> + The jewels don't belong to me.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Ah, not alone the jewelry!<br/> + The look, the manner, both betray—<br/> + Rejoiced am I that I may stay!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>What is your business? I would fain—</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I would I had a more cheerful strain!<br/> + Take not unkindly its repeating:<br/> + Your husband's dead, and sends a greeting.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Is dead? Alas, that heart so true!<br/> + My husband dead! Let me die, too!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Ah, dearest dame, let not your courage fail!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Hear me relate the mournful tale!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Therefore I'd never love, believe me!<br/> + A loss like this to death would grieve me.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Joy follows woe, woe after joy comes flying.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Relate his life's sad close to me!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>In Padua buried, he is lying<br/> + Beside the good Saint Antony,<br/> + Within a grave well consecrated,<br/> + For cool, eternal rest created.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>He gave you, further, no commission?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yes, one of weight, with many sighs:<br/> + Three hundred masses buy, to save him from perdition!<br/> + My hands are empty, otherwise.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>What! Not a pocket-piece? no jewelry?<br/> + What every journeyman within his wallet spares,<br/> + And as a token with him bears,<br/> + And rather starves or begs, than loses?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Madam, it is a grief to me;<br/> + Yet, on my word, his cash was put to proper uses.<br/> + Besides, his penitence was very sore,<br/> + And he lamented his ill fortune all the more.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Alack, that men are so unfortunate!<br/> + Surely for his soul's sake full many a prayer I'll proffer.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>You well deserve a speedy marriage-offer:<br/> + You are so kind, compassionate.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>O, no! As yet, it would not do.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>If not a husband, then a beau for you!<br/> + It is the greatest heavenly blessing,<br/> + To have a dear thing for one's caressing.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>The country's custom is not so.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Custom, or not! It happens, though.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Continue, pray!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I stood beside his bed of dying.<br/> + 'Twas something better than manure,—<br/> + Half-rotten straw: and yet, he died a Christian, sure,<br/> + And found that heavier scores to his account were lying.<br/> + He cried: "I find my conduct wholly hateful!<br/> + To leave my wife, my trade, in manner so ungrateful!<br/> + Ah, the remembrance makes me die!<br/> + Would of my wrong to her I might be shriven!"</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>weeping</i>)</p> + <p>The dear, good man! Long since was he forgiven.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>"Yet she, God knows! was more to blame than I."</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>He lied! What! On the brink of death he slandered?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>In the last throes his senses wandered,<br/> + If I such things but half can judge.<br/> + He said: "I had no time for play, for gaping freedom:<br/> + First children, and then work for bread to feed 'em,—<br/> + For bread, in the widest sense, to drudge,<br/> + And could not even eat my share in peace and quiet!"</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Had he all love, all faith forgotten in his riot?<br/> + My work and worry, day and night?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Not so: the memory of it touched him quite.<br/> + Said he: "When I from Malta went away<br/> + My prayers for wife and little ones were zealous,<br/> + And such a luck from Heaven befell us,<br/> + We made a Turkish merchantman our prey,<br/> + That to the Soldan bore a mighty treasure.<br/> + Then I received, as was most fit,<br/> + Since bravery was paid in fullest measure,<br/> + My well-apportioned share of it."</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Say, how? Say, where? If buried, did he own it?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Who knows, now, whither the four winds have blown it?<br/> + A fair young damsel took him in her care,<br/> + As he in Naples wandered round, unfriended;<br/> + And she much love, much faith to him did bear,<br/> + So that he felt it till his days were ended.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>The villain! From his children thieving!<br/> + Even all the misery on him cast<br/> + Could not prevent his shameful way of living!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But see! He's dead therefrom, at last.<br/> + Were I in <i>your</i> place, do not doubt me,<br/> + I'd mourn him decently a year,<br/> + And for another keep, meanwhile, my eyes about me.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Ah, God! another one so dear<br/> + As was my first, this world will hardly give me.<br/> + There never was a sweeter fool than mine,<br/> + Only he loved to roam and leave me,<br/> + And foreign wenches and foreign wine,<br/> + And the damned throw of dice, indeed.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Well, well! That might have done, however,<br/> + If he had only been as clever,<br/> + And treated <i>your</i> slips with as little heed.<br/> + I swear, with this condition, too,<br/> + I would, myself, change rings with you.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>The gentleman is pleased to jest.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I'll cut away, betimes, from here:<br/> + She'd take the Devil at his word, I fear.</p> + <p>(<i>To</i> MARGARET)</p> + <p>How fares the heart within your breast?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>What means the gentleman?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>aside</i>)</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Sweet innocent, thou art!</p> + </div> + <p>(<i>Aloud</i>.)</p> + <p>Ladies, farewell!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Farewell!</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>A moment, ere we part!<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p> + I'd like to have a legal witness,<br/> + Where, how, and when he died, to certify his fitness.<br/> + Irregular ways I've always hated;<br/> + I want his death in the weekly paper stated.<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yes, my good dame, a pair of witnesses<br/> + Always the truth establishes.<br/> + I have a friend of high condition,<br/> + Who'll also add his deposition.<br/> + I'll bring him here.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Good Sir, pray do!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And this young lady will be present, too?<br/> + A gallant youth! has travelled far:<br/> + Ladies with him delighted are.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Before him I should blush, ashamed.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Before no king that could be named!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Behind the house, in my garden, then,<br/> + This eve we'll expect the gentlemen.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-155.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-156.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XI"></a>XI</h2> + <p>A STREET</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>How is it? under way? and soon complete?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Ah, bravo! Do I find you burning?<br/> + Well, Margaret soon will still your yearning:<br/> + At Neighbor Martha's you'll this evening meet.<br/> + A fitter woman ne'er was made<br/> + To ply the pimp and gypsy trade!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Tis well.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>Yet something is required from us.</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>One service pays the other thus.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>We've but to make a deposition valid<br/> + That now her husband's limbs, outstretched and pallid,<br/> + At Padua rest, in consecrated soil.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Most wise! And first, of course, we'll make the journey<br/> + thither?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p><i>Sancta simplicitas</i>! no need of such a toil;<br/> + Depose, with knowledge or without it, either!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>If you've naught better, then, I'll tear your pretty plan!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Now, there you are! O holy man!<br/> + Is it the first time in your life you're driven<br/> + To bear false witness in a case?<br/> + Of God, the world and all that in it has a place,<br/> + Of Man, and all that moves the being of his race,<br/> + Have you not terms and definitions given<br/> + With brazen forehead, daring breast?<br/> + And, if you'll probe the thing profoundly,<br/> + Knew you so much—and you'll confess it roundly!—<br/> + As here of Schwerdtlein's death and place of rest?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou art, and thou remain'st, a sophist, liar.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yes, knew I not more deeply thy desire.<br/> + For wilt thou not, no lover fairer,<br/> + Poor Margaret flatter, and ensnare her,<br/> + And all thy soul's devotion swear her?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And from my heart.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>'Tis very fine!<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p> + Thine endless love, thy faith assuring,<br/> + The one almighty force enduring,—<br/> + Will that, too, prompt this heart of thine?<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Hold! hold! It will!—If such my flame,<br/> + And for the sense and power intense<br/> + I seek, and cannot find, a name;<br/> + Then range with all my senses through creation,<br/> + Craving the speech of inspiration,<br/> + And call this ardor, so supernal,<br/> + Endless, eternal and eternal,—<br/> + Is that a devilish lying game?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And yet I'm right!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Mark this, I beg of thee!<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p> + And spare my lungs henceforth: whoever<br/> + Intends to have the right, if but his<br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">tongue be clever,</span><br/> + Will have it, certainly.<br/> + But come: the further talking brings<br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">disgust,</span><br/> + For thou art right, especially since I<br/> + <span style="margin-left: 1em;">must.</span><br/> + <br/> + <br/> +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-158.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-159.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XII"></a>XII</h2> + <p>GARDEN</p> + <p>(MARGARET <i>on</i> FAUST'S <i>arm</i>. MARTHA <i>and</i> MEPHISTOPHELES + <i>walking up and down</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I feel, the gentleman allows for me,<br/> + Demeans himself, and shames me by it;<br/> + A traveller is so used to be<br/> + Kindly content with any diet.<br/> + I know too well that my poor gossip can<br/> + Ne'er entertain such an experienced man.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>A look from thee, a word, more entertains<br/> + Than all the lore of wisest brains.</p> + <p>(<i>He kisses her hand</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Don't incommode yourself! How could you ever kiss it!<br/> + It is so ugly, rough to see!<br/> + What work I do,—how hard and steady is it!<br/> + Mother is much too close with me.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>They pass</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>And you, Sir, travel always, do you not?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Alas, that trade and duty us so harry!<br/> + With what a pang one leaves so many a spot,<br/> + And dares not even now and then to tarry!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>In young, wild years it suits your ways,<br/> + This round and round the world in freedom sweeping;<br/> + But then come on the evil days,<br/> + And so, as bachelor, into his grave a-creeping,<br/> + None ever found a thing to praise.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I dread to see how such a fate advances.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Then, worthy Sir, improve betimes your chances!</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>They pass</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Yes, out of sight is out of mind!<br/> + Your courtesy an easy grace is;<br/> + But you have friends in other places,<br/> + And sensibler than I, you'll find.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Trust me, dear heart! what men call sensible<br/> + Is oft mere vanity and narrowness.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>How so?</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Ah, that simplicity and innocence ne'er know<br/> + Themselves, their holy value, and their spell!<br/> + That meekness, lowliness, the highest graces<br/> + Which Nature portions out so lovingly—</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>So you but think a moment's space on me,<br/> + All times I'll have to think on you, all places!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>No doubt you're much alone?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Yes, for our household small has grown,<br/> + Yet must be cared for, you will own.<br/> + We have no maid: I do the knitting, sewing, sweeping,<br/> + The cooking, early work and late, in fact;<br/> + And mother, in her notions of housekeeping,<br/> + Is so exact!<br/> + Not that she needs so much to keep expenses down:<br/> + We, more than others, might take comfort, rather:<br/> + A nice estate was left us by my father,<br/> + A house, a little garden near the town.<br/> + But now my days have less of noise and hurry;<br/> + My brother is a soldier,<br/> + My little sister's dead.<br/> + True, with the child a troubled life I led,<br/> + Yet I would take again, and willing, all the worry,<br/> + So very dear was she.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>An angel, if like thee!</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I brought it up, and it was fond of me.<br/> + Father had died before it saw the light,<br/> + And mother's case seemed hopeless quite,<br/> + So weak and miserable she lay;<br/> + And she recovered, then, so slowly, day by day.<br/> + She could not think, herself, of giving<br/> + The poor wee thing its natural living;<br/> + And so I nursed it all alone<br/> + With milk and water: 'twas my own.<br/> + Lulled in my lap with many a song,<br/> + It smiled, and tumbled, and grew strong.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The purest bliss was surely then thy dower.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>But surely, also, many a weary hour.<br/> + I kept the baby's cradle near<br/> + My bed at night: if 't even stirred, I'd guess it,<br/> + And waking, hear.<br/> + And I must nurse it, warm beside me press it,<br/> + And oft, to quiet it, my bed forsake,<br/> + And dandling back and forth the restless creature take,<br/> + Then at the wash-tub stand, at morning's break;<br/> + And then the marketing and kitchen-tending,<br/> + Day after day, the same thing, never-ending.<br/> + One's spirits, Sir, are thus not always good,<br/> + But then one learns to relish rest and food.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>They pass</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Yes, the poor women are bad off, 'tis true:<br/> + A stubborn bachelor there's no converting.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>It but depends upon the like of you,<br/> + And I should turn to better ways than flirting.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Speak plainly, Sir, have you no one detected?<br/> + Has not your heart been anywhere subjected?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The proverb says: One's own warm hearth<br/> + And a good wife, are gold and jewels worth.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>I mean, have you not felt desire, though ne'er so slightly?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I've everywhere, in fact, been entertained politely.</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>I meant to say, were you not touched in earnest, ever?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>One should allow one's self to jest with ladies never.</p> + <p>MARTHA Ah, you don't understand!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I'm sorry I'm so blind: But I am sure—that you are very kind.</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>They pass</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And me, thou angel! didst thou recognize,<br/> + As through the garden-gate I came?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Did you not see it? I cast down my eyes.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>And thou forgiv'st my freedom, and the blame<br/> + To my impertinence befitting,<br/> + As the Cathedral thou wert quitting?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I was confused, the like ne'er happened me;<br/> + No one could ever speak to my discredit.<br/> + Ah, thought I, in my conduct has he read it—<br/> + Something immodest or unseemly free?<br/> + He seemed to have the sudden feeling<br/> + That with this wench 'twere very easy dealing.<br/> + I will confess, I knew not what appeal<br/> + On your behalf, here, in my bosom grew;<br/> + But I was angry with myself, to feel<br/> + That I could not be angrier with you.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Sweet darling!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Wait a while!</p> + </div> + <p>(<i>She plucks a star-flower, and pulls off the leaves, one after<br/> + the other</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Shall that a nosegay be?</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>No, it is just in play.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>How?</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Go! you'll laugh at me.<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p> + (<i>She pulls off the leaves and murmurs</i>.)<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What murmurest thou?</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>half aloud</i>)</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>He loves me—loves me not.</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou sweet, angelic soul!</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>continues</i>)</p> + <p>Loves me—not—loves me—not—<br/> + (<i>plucking the last leaf, she cries with frank delight</i>:)</p> + <p>He loves me!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Yes, child! and let this blossom-word<br/> + For thee be speech divine! He loves thee!<br/> + Ah, know'st thou what it means? He loves thee!</p> + <p>(<i>He grasps both her hands</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I'm all a-tremble!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>O tremble not! but let this look,<br/> + Let this warm clasp of hands declare thee<br/> + What is unspeakable!<br/> + To yield one wholly, and to feel a rapture<br/> + In yielding, that must be eternal!<br/> + Eternal!—for the end would be despair.<br/> + No, no,—no ending! no ending!</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>coming forward</i>)</p> + <p>The night is falling.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Ay! we must away.</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>I'd ask you, longer here to tarry,<br/> + But evil tongues in this town have full play.<br/> + It's as if nobody had nothing to fetch and carry,<br/> + Nor other labor,<br/> + But spying all the doings of one's neighbor:<br/> + And one becomes the talk, do whatsoe'er one may.<br/> + Where is our couple now?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Flown up the alley yonder,<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p> + The wilful summer-birds!<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>MARTHA</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>He seems of her still fonder.</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And she of him. So runs the world away!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-166.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-167.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XIII"></a>XIII</h2> + <p>A GARDEN-ARBOR</p> + <p>(MARGARET <i>comes in, conceals herself behind the door, puts her<br/> + finger to her lips, and peeps through the crack</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>He comes!</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>entering</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 9em;">Ah, rogue! a tease thou art:</span><br/> + I have thee! (<i>He kisses her</i>.)<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>(<i>clasping him, and returning the kiss</i>)<br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">Dearest man! I love thee from my heart.</span><br/></p> + + <p>(MEPHISTOPHELES <i>knocks</i>)</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>stamping his foot</i>)</p> + <p>Who's there?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>A friend!</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>A beast!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Tis time to separate.</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA (<i>coming</i>)</p> + <p>Yes, Sir, 'tis late.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>May I not, then, upon you wait?</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>My mother would—farewell!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Ah, can I not remain?<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>Farewell!<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>MARTHA</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>Adieu!</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>And soon to meet again!</p> + </div> + <div class="indented"> + <p>[<i>Exeunt</i> FAUST <i>and</i> MEPHISTOPHELES.</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Dear God! However is it, such<br/> + A man can think and know so much?<br/> + I stand ashamed and in amaze,<br/> + And answer "Yes" to all he says,<br/> + A poor, unknowing child! and he—<br/> + I can't think what he finds in me! [<i>Exit</i>.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-169.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XIV"></a>XIV</h2> + <p>FOREST AND CAVERN</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>solus</i>)</p> + <p>Spirit sublime, thou gav'st me, gav'st me all<br/> + For which I prayed. Not unto me in vain<br/> + Hast thou thy countenance revealed in fire.<br/> + Thou gav'st me Nature as a kingdom grand,<br/> + With power to feel and to enjoy it. Thou<br/> + Not only cold, amazed acquaintance yield'st,<br/> + But grantest, that in her profoundest breast<br/> + I gaze, as in the bosom of a friend.<br/> + The ranks of living creatures thou dost lead<br/> + Before me, teaching me to know my brothers<br/> + In air and water and the silent wood.<br/> + And when the storm in forests roars and grinds,<br/> + The giant firs, in falling, neighbor boughs<br/> + And neighbor trunks with crushing weight bear down,<br/> + And falling, fill the hills with hollow thunders,—<br/> + Then to the cave secure thou leadest me,<br/> + Then show'st me mine own self, and in my breast<br/> + The deep, mysterious miracles unfold.<br/> + And when the perfect moon before my gaze<br/> + Comes up with soothing light, around me float<br/> + From every precipice and thicket damp<br/> + The silvery phantoms of the ages past,<br/> + And temper the austere delight of thought.</p> + <p>That nothing can be perfect unto Man<br/> + I now am conscious. With this ecstasy,<br/> + Which brings me near and nearer to the Gods,<br/> + Thou gav'st the comrade, whom I now no more<br/> + Can do without, though, cold and scornful, he<br/> + Demeans me to myself, and with a breath,<br/> + A word, transforms thy gifts to nothingness.<br/> + Within my breast he fans a lawless fire,<br/> + Unwearied, for that fair and lovely form:<br/> + Thus in desire I hasten to enjoyment,<br/> + And in enjoyment pine to feel desire.</p> + <p>(MEPHISTOPHELES <i>enters</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Have you not led this life quite long enough?<br/> + How can a further test delight you?<br/> + 'Tis very well, that once one tries the stuff,<br/> + But something new must then requite you.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Would there were other work for thee!<br/> + To plague my day auspicious thou returnest.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Well! I'll engage to let thee be:<br/> + Thou darest not tell me so in earnest.<br/> + The loss of thee were truly very slight,—<br/> + comrade crazy, rude, repelling:</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-171.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <p>One has one's hands full all the day and night;<br/> + If what one does, or leaves undone, is right,<br/> + From such a face as thine there is no telling.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + + <p>There is, again, thy proper tone!—<br/> + That thou hast bored me, I must thankful be!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Poor Son of Earth, how couldst thou thus alone<br/> + Have led thy life, bereft of me?<br/> + I, for a time, at least, have worked thy cure;<br/> + Thy fancy's rickets plague thee not at all:<br/> + Had I not been, so hadst thou, sure,<br/> + Walked thyself off this earthly ball<br/> + Why here to caverns, rocky hollows slinking,<br/> + Sit'st thou, as 'twere an owl a-blinking?<br/> + Why suck'st, from sodden moss and dripping stone,<br/> + Toad-like, thy nourishment alone?<br/> + A fine way, this, thy time to fill!<br/> + The Doctor's in thy body still.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What fresh and vital forces, canst thou guess,<br/> + Spring from my commerce with the wilderness?<br/> + But, if thou hadst the power of guessing,<br/> + Thou wouldst be devil enough to grudge my soul the blessing.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>A blessing drawn from supernatural fountains!<br/> + In night and dew to lie upon the mountains;<br/> + All Heaven and Earth in rapture penetrating;<br/> + Thyself to Godhood haughtily inflating;<br/> + To grub with yearning force through Earth's dark marrow,<br/> + Compress the six days' work within thy bosom narrow,—<br/> + To taste, I know not what, in haughty power,<br/> + Thine own ecstatic life on all things shower,<br/> + Thine earthly self behind thee cast,<br/> + And then the lofty instinct, thus—</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>(<i>With a gesture</i>:)</p> + </div> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>at last,—</p> + </div> +<p> I daren't say how—to pluck the final flower!<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Shame on thee!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yes, thou findest that unpleasant!<br/> + Thou hast the moral right to cry me "shame!" at present.<br/> + One dares not that before chaste ears declare,<br/> + Which chaste hearts, notwithstanding, cannot spare;<br/> + And, once for all, I grudge thee not the pleasure<br/> + Of lying to thyself in moderate measure.<br/> + But such a course thou wilt not long endure;<br/> + Already art thou o'er-excited,<br/> + And, if it last, wilt soon be plighted<br/> + To madness and to horror, sure.<br/> + Enough of that! Thy love sits lonely yonder,<br/> + By all things saddened and oppressed;<br/> + Her thoughts and yearnings seek thee, tenderer, fonder,—<br/> + mighty love is in her breast.<br/> + First came thy passion's flood and poured around her<br/> + As when from melted snow a streamlet overflows;<br/> + Thou hast therewith so filled and drowned her,<br/> + That now <i>thy</i> stream all shallow shows.<br/> + Methinks, instead of in the forests lording,<br/> + The noble Sir should find it good,<br/> + The love of this young silly blood<br/> + At once to set about rewarding.<br/> + Her time is miserably long;<br/> + She haunts her window, watching clouds that stray<br/> + O'er the old city-wall, and far away.<br/> + "Were I a little bird!" so runs her song,<br/> + Day long, and half night long.<br/> + Now she is lively, mostly sad,<br/> + Now, wept beyond her tears;<br/> + Then again quiet she appears,—Always<br/> + love-mad.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Serpent! Serpent!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES <i>(aside)</i></p> + <p>Ha! do I trap thee!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Get thee away with thine offences,<br/> + Reprobate! Name not that fairest thing,<br/> + Nor the desire for her sweet body bring<br/> + Again before my half-distracted senses!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>What wouldst thou, then? She thinks that thou art flown;<br/> + And half and half thou art, I own.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Yet am I near, and love keeps watch and ward;<br/> + Though I were ne'er so far, it cannot falter:<br/> + I envy even the Body of the Lord<br/> + The touching of her lips, before the altar.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>'Tis very well! <i>My</i> envy oft reposes<br/> + On your twin-pair, that feed among the roses.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Away, thou pimp!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>You rail, and it is fun to me.<br/> + The God, who fashioned youth and maid,<br/> + Perceived the noblest purpose of His trade,<br/> + And also made their opportunity.<br/> + Go on! It is a woe profound!<br/> + 'Tis for your sweetheart's room you're bound,<br/> + And not for death, indeed.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What are, within her arms, the heavenly blisses?<br/> + Though I be glowing with her kisses,<br/> + Do I not always share her need?<br/> + I am the fugitive, all houseless roaming,<br/> + The monster without air or rest,<br/> + That like a cataract, down rocks and gorges foaming,<br/> + Leaps, maddened, into the abyss's breast!<br/> + And side-wards she, with young unwakened senses,<br/> + Within her cabin on the Alpine field<br/> + Her simple, homely life commences,<br/> + Her little world therein concealed.<br/> + And I, God's hate flung o'er me,<br/> + Had not enough, to thrust<br/> + The stubborn rocks before me<br/> + And strike them into dust!<br/> + She and her peace I yet must undermine:<br/> + Thou, Hell, hast claimed this sacrifice as thine!<br/> + Help, Devil! through the coming pangs to push me;<br/> + What must be, let it quickly be!<br/> + Let fall on me her fate, and also crush me,—<br/> + One ruin whelm both her and me!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Again it seethes, again it glows!<br/> + Thou fool, go in and comfort her!<br/> + When such a head as thine no outlet knows,<br/> + It thinks the end must soon occur.<br/> + Hail him, who keeps a steadfast mind!<br/> + Thou, else, dost well the devil-nature wear:<br/> + Naught so insipid in the world I find<br/> + As is a devil in despair.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-177.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-178.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XV"></a>XV</h2> + <p>MARGARET'S ROOM</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>(<i>at the spinning-wheel, alone</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">My peace is gone,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My heart is sore:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I never shall find it,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, nevermore!</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Save I have him near.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The grave is here;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The world is gall</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And bitterness all.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My poor weak head</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Is racked and crazed;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My thought is lost,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My senses mazed.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My peace is gone,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My heart is sore:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I never shall find it,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, nevermore!</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">To see him, him only,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">At the pane I sit;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">To meet him, him only,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The house I quit.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">His lofty gait,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">His noble size,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The smile of his mouth,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The power of his eyes,</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And the magic flow</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Of his talk, the bliss</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">In the clasp of his hand,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And, ah! his kiss!</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My peace is gone,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My heart is sore:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I never shall find it,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, nevermore!</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">My bosom yearns</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">For him alone;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, dared I clasp him,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And hold, and own!</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And kiss his mouth,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">To heart's desire,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And on his kisses</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">At last expire!</span><br/> + </p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-180.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XVI"></a>XVI</h2> + <p>MARTHA'S GARDEN</p> + <p>MARGARET FAUST</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Promise me, Henry!—</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>What I can!</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>How is't with thy religion, pray?<br/> + Thou art a dear, good-hearted man,<br/> + And yet, I think, dost not incline that way.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Leave that, my child! Thou know'st my love is tender;<br/> + For love, my blood and life would I surrender,<br/> + And as for Faith and Church, I grant to each his own.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>That's not enough: we must believe thereon.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Must we?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>Would that I had some influence!</p> + </div> + <p>Then, too, thou honorest not the Holy Sacraments.<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I honor them.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Desiring no possession<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>'Tis long since thou hast been to mass or to confession.<br/> + Believest thou in God?<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>My darling, who shall dare<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>"I believe in God!" to say?<br/> + Ask priest or sage the answer to declare,<br/> + And it will seem a mocking play,<br/> + A sarcasm on the asker.<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Then thou believest not!</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Hear me not falsely, sweetest countenance!<br/> + Who dare express Him?<br/> + And who profess Him,<br/> + Saying: I believe in Him!<br/> + Who, feeling, seeing,<br/> + Deny His being,<br/> + Saying: I believe Him not!<br/> + The All-enfolding,<br/> + The All-upholding,<br/> + Folds and upholds he not<br/> + Thee, me, Himself?<br/> + Arches not there the sky above us?<br/> + Lies not beneath us, firm, the earth?<br/> + And rise not, on us shining,<br/> + Friendly, the everlasting stars?<br/> + Look I not, eye to eye, on thee,<br/> + And feel'st not, thronging<br/> + To head and heart, the force,<br/> + Still weaving its eternal secret,<br/> + Invisible, visible, round thy life?<br/> + Vast as it is, fill with that force thy heart,<br/> + And when thou in the feeling wholly blessed art,<br/> + Call it, then, what thou wilt,—<br/> + Call it Bliss! Heart! Love! God!<br/> + I have no name to give it!<br/> + Feeling is all in all:<br/> + The Name is sound and smoke,<br/> + Obscuring Heaven's clear glow.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>All that is fine and good, to hear it so:<br/> + Much the same way the preacher spoke,<br/> + Only with slightly different phrases.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The same thing, in all places,<br/> + All hearts that beat beneath the heavenly day—<br/> + Each in its language—say;<br/> + Then why not I, in mine, as well?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>To hear it thus, it may seem passable;<br/> + And yet, some hitch in't there must be<br/> + For thou hast no Christianity.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Dear love!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I've long been grieved to see<br/> + That thou art in such company.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>How so?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>The man who with thee goes, thy mate,<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>Within my deepest, inmost soul I hate.<br/> + In all my life there's nothing<br/> + Has given my heart so keen a pang of loathing,<br/> + As his repulsive face has done.<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Nay, fear him not, my sweetest one!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I feel his presence like something ill.<br/> + I've else, for all, a kindly will,<br/> + But, much as my heart to see thee yearneth,<br/> + The secret horror of him returneth;<br/> + And I think the man a knave, as I live!<br/> + If I do him wrong, may God forgive!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>There must be such queer birds, however.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Live with the like of him, may I never!<br/> + When once inside the door comes he,<br/> + He looks around so sneeringly,<br/> + And half in wrath:<br/> + One sees that in nothing no interest he hath:<br/> + 'Tis written on his very forehead<br/> + That love, to him, is a thing abhorréd.<br/> + I am so happy on thine arm,<br/> + So free, so yielding, and so warm,<br/> + And in his presence stifled seems my heart.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Foreboding angel that thou art!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>It overcomes me in such degree,<br/> + That wheresoe'er he meets us, even,<br/> + I feel as though I'd lost my love for thee.<br/> + When he is by, I could not pray to Heaven.<br/> + That burns within me like a flame,<br/> + And surely, Henry, 'tis with thee the same.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>There, now, is thine antipathy!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>But I must go.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Ah, shall there never be<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>A quiet hour, to see us fondly plighted,<br/> + With breast to breast, and soul to soul united?<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Ah, if I only slept alone!<br/> + I'd draw the bolts to-night, for thy desire;<br/> + But mother's sleep so light has grown,<br/> + And if we were discovered by her,<br/> + 'Twould be my death upon the spot!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou angel, fear it not!<br/> + Here is a phial: in her drink<br/> + But three drops of it measure,<br/> + And deepest sleep will on her senses sink.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>What would I not, to give thee pleasure?<br/> + It will not harm her, when one tries it?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>If 'twould, my love, would I advise it?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Ah, dearest man, if but thy face I see,<br/> + I know not what compels me to thy will:<br/> + So much have I already done for thee,<br/> + That scarcely more is left me to fulfil.</p> + <p>(<i>Enter</i> MEPHISTOPHELES.) [<i>Exit</i>.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The monkey! Is she gone?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Hast played the spy again?</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I've heard, most fully, how she drew thee.<br/> + The Doctor has been catechised, 'tis plain;<br/> + Great good, I hope, the thing will do thee.<br/> + The girls have much desire to ascertain<br/> + If one is prim and good, as ancient rules compel:<br/> + If there he's led, they think, he'll follow them as well.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou, monster, wilt nor see nor own<br/> + How this pure soul, of faith so lowly,<br/> + So loving and ineffable,—<br/> + The faith alone<br/> + That her salvation is,—with scruples holy<br/> + Pines, lest she hold as lost the man she loves so well!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Thou, full of sensual, super-sensual desire,<br/> + A girl by the nose is leading thee.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Abortion, thou, of filth and fire!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And then, how masterly she reads physiognomy!<br/> + When I am present she's impressed, she knows not how;<br/> + She in my mask a hidden sense would read:<br/> + She feels that surely I'm a genius now,—<br/> + Perhaps the very Devil, indeed!<br/> + Well, well,—to-night—?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>What's that to thee?</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Yet my delight 'twill also be!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-186.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-187.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XVII"></a>XVII</h2> + <p>AT THE FOUNTAIN</p> + <p>MARGARET <i>and</i> LISBETH <i>With pitchers</i>.</p> + <p>LISBETH</p> + <p>Hast nothing heard of Barbara?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>No, not a word. I go so little out.</p> + <p>LISBETH</p> + <p>It's true, Sibylla said, to-day.<br/> + She's played the fool at last, there's not a doubt.<br/> + Such taking-on of airs!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>How so?<br/> + </p> + </div> + + <p>LISBETH</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>It stinks!<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>She's feeding two, whene'er she eats and drinks.<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Ah!</p> + <p>LISBETH</p> + <p> And so, at last, it serves her rightly.<br/> + She clung to the fellow so long and tightly!<br/> + That was a promenading!<br/> + At village and dance parading!<br/> + As the first they must everywhere shine,<br/> + And he treated her always to pies and wine,<br/> + And she made a to-do with her face so fine;<br/> + So mean and shameless was her behavior,<br/> + She took all the presents the fellow gave her.<br/> + 'Twas kissing and coddling, on and on!<br/> + So now, at the end, the flower is gone.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>The poor, poor thing!</p> + <p>LISBETH</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Dost pity her, at that?<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>When one of us at spinning sat,<br/> + And mother, nights, ne'er let us out the door<br/> + She sported with her paramour.<br/> + On the door-bench, in the passage dark,<br/> + The length of the time they'd never mark.<br/> + So now her head no more she'll lift,<br/> + But do church-penance in her sinner's shift!<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>He'll surely take her for his wife.</p> + <p>LISBETH</p> + <p>He'd be a fool! A brisk young blade<br/> + Has room, elsewhere, to ply his trade.<br/> + Besides, he's gone.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>That is not fair!<br/> + </p> + </div> + + <p>LISBETH</p> + <p>If him she gets, why let her beware!<br/> + The boys shall dash her wreath on the floor,<br/> + And we'll scatter chaff before her door!<br/> + </p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>Exit</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET (<i>returning home</i>)</p> + <p>How scornfully I once reviled,<br/> + When some poor maiden was beguiled!<br/> + More speech than any tongue suffices<br/> + I craved, to censure others' vices.<br/> + Black as it seemed, I blackened still,<br/> + And blacker yet was in my will;<br/> + And blessed myself, and boasted high,—<br/> + And now—a living sin am I!<br/> + Yet—all that drove my heart thereto,<br/> + God! was so good, so dear, so true!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-189.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-190.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2> + <p>DONJON</p> + <p>(<i>In a niche of the wall a shrine, with an image of the Mater<br/> + Dolorosa. Pots of flowers before it</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>(<i>putting fresh flowers in the pots</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Incline, O Maiden,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thou sorrow-laden,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thy gracious countenance upon my pain!</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The sword Thy heart in,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">With anguish smarting,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thou lookest up to where Thy Son is + slain!</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thou seest the Father;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thy sad sighs gather,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">And bear aloft Thy sorrow and His pain!</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Ah, past guessing,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Beyond expressing,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The pangs that wring my flesh and bone!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Why this anxious heart so burneth,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Why it trembleth, why it yearneth,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Knowest Thou, and Thou alone!</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Where'er I go, what sorrow,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">What woe, what woe and sorrow</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Within my bosom aches!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Alone, and ah! unsleeping,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I'm weeping, weeping, weeping,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The heart within me breaks.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The pots before my window,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Alas! my tears did wet,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">As in the early morning</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">For thee these flowers I set.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Within my lonely chamber</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The morning sun shone red:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">I sat, in utter sorrow,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Already on my bed.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Help! rescue me from death and stain!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">O Maiden!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Thou sorrow-laden,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Incline Thy countenance upon my pain!</span><br/> + </p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-191.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-192.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XIX"></a>XIX</h2> + <p>NIGHT</p> + <p>STREET BEFORE MARGARET'S DOOR</p> + <p>VALENTINE (<i>a soldier</i>, MARGARET'S <i>brother</i>)</p> + <p>When I have sat at some carouse.<br/> + Where each to each his brag allows,<br/> + And many a comrade praised to me<br/> + His pink of girls right lustily,<br/> + With brimming glass that spilled the toast,<br/> + And elbows planted as in boast:<br/> + I sat in unconcerned repose,<br/> + And heard the swagger as it rose.<br/> + And stroking then my beard, I'd say,<br/> + Smiling, the bumper in my hand:<br/> + "Each well enough in her own way.<br/> + But is there one in all the land<br/> + Like sister Margaret, good as gold,—<br/> + One that to her can a candle hold?"<br/> + Cling! clang! "Here's to her!" went around<br/> + The board: "He speaks the truth!" cried some;<br/> + "In her the flower o' the sex is found!"<br/> + And all the swaggerers were dumb.<br/> + And now!—I could tear my hair with vexation.<br/> + And dash out my brains in desperation!<br/> + With turned-up nose each scamp may face me,<br/> + With sneers and stinging taunts disgrace me,<br/> + And, like a bankrupt debtor sitting,<br/> + A chance-dropped word may set me sweating!<br/> + Yet, though I thresh them all together,<br/> + I cannot call them liars, either.</p> + <p>But what comes sneaking, there, to view?<br/> + If I mistake not, there are two.<br/> + If <i>he's</i> one, let me at him drive!<br/> + He shall not leave the spot alive.</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>How from the window of the sacristy<br/> + Upward th'eternal lamp sends forth a glimmer,<br/> + That, lessening side-wards, fainter grows and dimmer,<br/> + Till darkness closes from the sky!<br/> + The shadows thus within my bosom gather.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I'm like a sentimental tom-cat, rather,<br/> + That round the tall fire-ladders sweeps,<br/> + And stealthy, then, along the coping creeps:<br/> + Quite virtuous, withal, I come,<br/> + A little thievish and a little frolicsome.<br/> + I feel in every limb the presage<br/> + Forerunning the grand Walpurgis-Night:<br/> + Day after to-morrow brings its message,<br/> + And one keeps watch then with delight.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Meanwhile, may not the treasure risen be,<br/> + Which there, behind, I glimmering see?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Shalt soon experience the pleasure,<br/> + To lift the kettle with its treasure.<br/> + I lately gave therein a squint—<br/> + Saw splendid lion-dollars in 't.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Not even a jewel, not a ring,<br/> + To deck therewith my darling girl?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I saw, among the rest, a thing<br/> + That seemed to be a chain of pearl.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>That's well, indeed! For painful is it<br/> + To bring no gift when her I visit.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Thou shouldst not find it so annoying,<br/> + Without return to be enjoying.<br/> + Now, while the sky leads forth its starry throng,<br/> + Thou'lt hear a masterpiece, no work completer:<br/> + I'll sing her, first, a moral song,<br/> + The surer, afterwards, to cheat her.</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>(<i>Sings to the cither</i>.)</p> + </div> + <p><span style="margin-left: 4em;">What dost thou here</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">In daybreak clear,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Kathrina dear,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Before thy lover's door?</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Beware! the blade</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Lets in a maid.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">That out a maid</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Departeth nevermore!</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">The coaxing shun</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Of such an one!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">When once 'tis done</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Good-night to thee, poor thing!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Love's time is brief:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Unto no thief</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">Be warm and lief,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 4em;">But with the wedding-ring!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>VALENTINE (<i>comes forward</i>)</p> + <p>Whom wilt thou lure? God's-element!<br/> + Rat-catching piper, thou!—perdition!<br/> + To the Devil, first, the instrument!<br/> + To the Devil, then, the curst musician!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The cither's smashed! For nothing more 'tis fitting.</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>There's yet a skull I must be splitting!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>Sir Doctor, don't retreat, I pray!<br/> + Stand by: I'll lead, if you'll but tarry:<br/> + Out with your spit, without delay!<br/> + You've but to lunge, and I will parry.</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>Then parry that!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Why not? 'tis light.</p> + </div> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>That, too!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Of course.</p> + </div> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>I think the Devil must fight!<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>How is it, then? my hand's already lame:<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>Thrust home!</p> + <p>VALENTINE (<i>jails</i>)</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>O God!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Now is the lubber tame!<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>But come, away! 'Tis time for us to fly;<br/> + For there arises now a murderous cry.<br/> + With the police 'twere easy to compound it,<br/> + But here the penal court will sift and sound it.<br/> + <br/></p> + + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>[<i>Exit with</i> FAUST.</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA (<i>at the window</i>)</p> + <p>Come out! Come out!</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>at the window</i>)</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Quick, bring a light!</p> + </div> + <p>MARTHA (<i>as above</i>)</p> + <p>They swear and storm, they yell and fight!</p> + <p>PEOPLE</p> + <p>Here lies one dead already—see!</p> + <p>MARTHA (<i>coming from the house</i>)</p> + <p>The murderers, whither have they run?</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>coming out</i>)</p> + <p>Who lies here?</p> + <p>PEOPLE</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>'Tis thy mother's son!</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Almighty God! what misery!</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>I'm dying! That is quickly said,<br/> + And quicker yet 'tis done.<br/> + Why howl, you women there? Instead,<br/> + Come here and listen, every one!</p> + <p>(<i>All gather around him</i>)</p> + <p>My Margaret, see! still young thou art,<br/> + But not the least bit shrewd or smart,<br/> + Thy business thus to slight:<br/> + So this advice I bid thee heed—<br/> + Now that thou art a whore indeed,<br/> + Why, be one then, outright!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>My brother! God! such words to me?</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>In this game let our Lord God be!<br/> + What's done's already done, alas!<br/> + What follows it, must come to pass.<br/> + With one begin'st thou secretly,<br/> + Then soon will others come to thee,<br/> + And when a dozen thee have known,<br/> + Thou'rt also free to all the town.<br/> + When Shame is born and first appears,<br/> + She is in secret brought to light,<br/> + And then they draw the veil of night<br/> + Over her head and ears;<br/> + Her life, in fact, they're loath to spare her.<br/> + But let her growth and strength display,<br/> + She walks abroad unveiled by day,<br/> + Yet is not grown a whit the fairer.<br/> + The uglier she is to sight,<br/> + The more she seeks the day's broad light.<br/> + The time I verily can discern<br/> + When all the honest folk will turn<br/> + From thee, thou jade! and seek protection<br/> + As from a corpse that breeds infection.<br/> + Thy guilty heart shall then dismay thee.<br/> + When they but look thee in the face:—<br/> + Shalt not in a golden chain array thee,<br/> + Nor at the altar take thy place!<br/> + Shalt not, in lace and ribbons flowing,<br/> + Make merry when the dance is going!<br/> + But in some corner, woe betide thee!<br/> + Among the beggars and cripples hide thee;<br/> + And so, though even God forgive,<br/> + On earth a damned existence live!</p> + <p>MARTHA</p> + <p>Commend your soul to God for pardon,<br/> + That you your heart with slander harden!</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>Thou pimp most infamous, be still!<br/> + Could I thy withered body kill,<br/> + 'Twould bring, for all my sinful pleasure,<br/> + Forgiveness in the richest measure.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>My brother! This is Hell's own pain!</p> + <p>VALENTINE</p> + <p>I tell thee, from thy tears refrain!<br/> + When thou from honor didst depart<br/> + It stabbed me to the very heart.<br/> + Now through the slumber of the grave<br/> + I go to God as a soldier brave.</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>(<i>Dies</i>.)</p> + </div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-199.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-200.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XX"></a>XX</h2> + <p>CATHEDRAL</p> + <p>SERVICE, ORGAN <i>and</i> ANTHEM.</p> + <p>(MARGARET <i>among much people: the</i> EVIL SPIRIT <i>behind</i><br/> + MARGARET.)</p> + <p>EVIL SPIRIT</p> + <p>HOW otherwise was it, Margaret,<br/> + When thou, still innocent,<br/> + Here to the altar cam'st,<br/> + And from the worn and fingered book<br/> + Thy prayers didst prattle,<br/> + Half sport of childhood,<br/> + Half God within thee!<br/> + Margaret!<br/> + Where tends thy thought?<br/> + Within thy bosom<br/> + What hidden crime?<br/> + Pray'st thou for mercy on thy mother's soul,<br/> + That fell asleep to long, long torment, and through thee?<br/> + Upon thy threshold whose the blood?<br/> + And stirreth not and quickens<br/> + Something beneath thy heart,<br/> + Thy life disquieting<br/> + With most foreboding presence?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Woe! woe!<br/> + Would I were free from the thoughts<br/> + That cross me, drawing hither and thither<br/> + Despite me!</p> + <p>CHORUS</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p><i>Diesira, dies illa,</i><br/> + Solvet soeclum in favilla!<br/> + <i>(Sound of the organ</i>.)<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>EVIL SPIRIT</p> + <p>Wrath takes thee!<br/> + The trumpet peals!<br/> + The graves tremble!<br/> + And thy heart<br/> + From ashy rest<br/> + To fiery torments<br/> + Now again requickened,<br/> + Throbs to life!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Would I were forth!<br/> + I feel as if the organ here<br/> + My breath takes from me,<br/> + My very heart<br/> + Dissolved by the anthem!</p> + <p>CHORUS</p> + <div class="indented"> + <i>Judex ergo cum sedebit,</i><br/> + Quidquid latet, ad parebit,<br/> + Nil inultum remanebit.<br/> + <br/> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I cannot breathe!<br/> + The massy pillars<br/> + Imprison me!<br/> + The vaulted arches<br/> + Crush me!—Air!</p> + <p>EVIL SPIRIT</p> + <p>Hide thyself! Sin and shame<br/> + Stay never hidden.<br/> + Air? Light?<br/> + Woe to thee!</p> + <p>CHORUS</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p><i>Quid sum miser tunc dicturus,</i><br/> + Quem patronem rogaturus,<br/> + Cum vix Justus sit securus<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>EVIL SPIRIT</p> + <p>They turn their faces,<br/> + The glorified, from thee:<br/> + The pure, their hands to offer,<br/> + Shuddering, refuse thee!<br/> + Woe!</p> + <p>CHORUS</p> + <p><i>Quid sum miser tune dicturus</i>?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Neighbor! your cordial! (<i>She falls in + a swoon</i>.)</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-202.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-203.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XXI"></a>XXI</h2> + <p>WALPURGIS-NIGHT</p> + <p>THE HARTZ MOUNTAINS.</p> + <p><i>District of Schierke and Elend</i>.</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>DOST thou not wish a broomstick-steed's assistance?<br/> + The sturdiest he-goat I would gladly see:<br/> + The way we take, our goal is yet some distance.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>So long as in my legs I feel the fresh existence.<br/> + This knotted staff suffices me.<br/> + What need to shorten so the way?<br/> + Along this labyrinth of vales to wander,<br/> + Then climb the rocky ramparts yonder,<br/> + Wherefrom the fountain flings eternal spray,<br/> + Is such delight, my steps would fain delay.<br/> + The spring-time stirs within the fragrant birches,<br/> + And even the fir-tree feels it now:<br/> + Should then our limbs escape its gentle searches?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I notice no such thing, I vow!<br/> + 'Tis winter still within my body:<br/> + Upon my path I wish for frost and snow.<br/> + How sadly rises, incomplete and ruddy,<br/> + The moon's lone disk, with its belated glow,<br/> + And lights so dimly, that, as one advances,<br/> + At every step one strikes a rock or tree!<br/> + Let us, then, use a Jack-o'-lantern's glances:<br/> + I see one yonder, burning merrily.<br/> + Ho, there! my friend! I'll levy thine attendance:<br/> + Why waste so vainly thy resplendence?<br/> + Be kind enough to light us up the steep!</p> + <p>WILL-O'-THE-WISP</p> + <p>My reverence, I hope, will me enable<br/> + To curb my temperament unstable;<br/> + For zigzag courses we are wont to keep.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Indeed? he'd like mankind to imitate!<br/> + Now, in the Devil's name, go straight,<br/> + Or I'll blow out his being's flickering spark!</p> + <p>WILL-O'-THE-WISP</p> + <p>You are the master of the house, I mark,<br/> + And I shall try to serve you nicely.<br/> + But then, reflect: the mountain's magic-mad to-day,<br/> + And if a will-o'-the-wisp must guide you on the way,<br/> + You mustn't take things too precisely.</p> + <p>FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, WILL-O'-THE-WISP</p> + <p>(<i>in alternating song</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We, it seems, have entered newly</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In the sphere of dreams enchanted.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Do thy bidding, guide us truly,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">That our feet be forwards planted</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">In the vast, the desert spaces!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">See them swiftly changing places,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Trees on trees beside us trooping,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the crags above us stooping,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the rocky snouts, + outgrowing,—</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Hear them snoring, hear them blowing!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">O'er the stones, the grasses, flowing</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Stream and streamlet seek the hollow.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Hear I noises? songs that follow?</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Hear I tender love-petitions?</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Voices of those heavenly visions?</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Sounds of hope, of love undying!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the echoes, like traditions</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Of old days, come faint and hollow.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Hoo-hoo! Shoo-hoo! Nearer hover</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Jay and screech-owl, and the + plover,—</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Are they all awake and crying?</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Is't the salamander pushes,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bloated-bellied, through the bushes?</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the roots, like serpents twisted,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Through the sand and boulders + toiling,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Fright us, weirdest links uncoiling</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To entrap us, unresisted:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Living knots and gnarls uncanny</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Feel with polypus-antennae</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">For the wanderer. Mice are flying,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Thousand-colored, herd-wise hieing</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Through the moss and through the + heather!</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And the fire-flies wink and darkle,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Crowded swarms that soar and sparkle,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And in wildering escort gather!</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Tell me, if we still are standing,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Or if further we're ascending?</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">All is turning, whirling, blending,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Trees and rocks with grinning faces,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Wandering lights that spin in mazes,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Still increasing and expanding!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Grasp my skirt with heart undaunted!<br/> + Here a middle-peak is planted,<br/> + Whence one seeth, with amaze,<br/> + Mammon in the mountain blaze.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>How strangely glimmers through the hollows<br/> + A dreary light, like that of dawn!<br/> + Its exhalation tracks and follows<br/> + The deepest gorges, faint and wan.<br/> + Here steam, there rolling vapor sweepeth;<br/> + Here burns the glow through film and haze:<br/> + Now like a tender thread it creepeth,<br/> + Now like a fountain leaps and plays.<br/> + Here winds away, and in a hundred<br/> + Divided veins the valley braids:<br/> + There, in a corner pressed and sundered,<br/> + Itself detaches, spreads and fades.<br/> + Here gush the sparkles incandescent<br/> + Like scattered showers of golden sand;—<br/> + But, see! in all their height, at present,<br/> + The rocky ramparts blazing stand.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-207.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +<p class="caption"><i>Under the old ribs of the rock retreating</i></p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Has not Sir Mammon grandly lighted<br/> + His palace for this festal night?<br/> + 'Tis lucky thou hast seen the sight;<br/> + The boisterous guests approach that were invited.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>How raves the tempest through the air!<br/> + With what fierce blows upon my neck 'tis beating!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Under the old ribs of the rock retreating,<br/> + Hold fast, lest thou be hurled down the abysses there!<br/> + The night with the mist is black;<br/> + Hark! how the forests grind and crack!<br/> + Frightened, the owlets are scattered:<br/> + Hearken! the pillars are shattered.<br/> + The evergreen palaces shaking!<br/> + Boughs are groaning and breaking,<br/> + The tree-trunks terribly thunder,<br/> + The roots are twisting asunder!<br/> + In frightfully intricate crashing<br/> + Each on the other is dashing,<br/> + And over the wreck-strewn gorges<br/> + The tempest whistles and surges!<br/> + Hear'st thou voices higher ringing?<br/> + Far away, or nearer singing?<br/> + Yes, the mountain's side along,<br/> + Sweeps an infuriate glamouring song!</p> + <p>WITCHES (<i>in chorus</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The witches ride to the Brocken's + top,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The stubble is yellow, and green the + crop.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">There gathers the crowd for carnival:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Sir Urian sits over all.</span><br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And so they go over stone and stock;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The witch she——-s, and——-s + the buck.</span><br/> + <br/> + A VOICE<br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Alone, old Baubo's coming now;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">She rides upon a farrow-sow.</span><br/> + <br/> + CHORUS<br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Then honor to whom the honor is due!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Dame Baubo first, to lead the crew!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A tough old sow and the mother + thereon,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Then follow the witches, every one.</span><br/> + </p> + <p>A VOICE</p> + <p>Which way com'st thou hither?</p> + <p>VOICE</p> + <p>O'er the Ilsen-stone.<br/> + I peeped at the owl in her nest alone:<br/> + How she stared and glared!</p> + <p>VOICE</p> + <p>Betake thee to Hell!<br/> + Why so fast and so fell?</p> + <p>VOICE</p> + <p>She has scored and has flayed me:<br/> + See the wounds she has made me!</p> + <p>WITCHES (<i>chorus</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The way is wide, the way is long:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">See, what a wild and crazy throng!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The broom it scratches, the fork it + thrusts,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The child is stifled, the mother + bursts.</span><br/> + </p> + <p>WIZARDS (<i>semichorus</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As doth the snail in shell, we + crawl:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Before us go the women all.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">When towards the Devil's House we + tread,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Woman's a thousand steps ahead.</span><br/> + <br/> + OTHER SEMICHORUS<br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">We do not measure with such care:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Woman in thousand steps is theft.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">But howsoe'er she hasten may,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Man in one leap has cleared the way.</span><br/> + </p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from above</i>)</p> + <p>Come on, come on, from Rocky Lake!</p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from below</i>)</p> + <p>Aloft we'd fain ourselves betake.<br/> + We've washed, and are bright as ever you will,<br/> + Yet we're eternally sterile still.</p> + <p>BOTH CHORUSES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The wind is hushed, the star shoots + by.</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The dreary moon forsakes the sky;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">The magic notes, like spark on spark,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Drizzle, whistling through the dark.</span><br/> + </p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from below</i>)</p> + <p>Halt, there! Ho, there!</p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from above</i>)</p> + <p>Who calls from the rocky cleft below there?</p> + <p>VOICE (<i>below</i>)</p> + <p>Take me, too! take me, too!<br/> + I'm climbing now three hundred years,<br/> + And yet the summit cannot see:<br/> + Among my equals I would be.</p> + <p>BOTH CHORUSES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bears the broom and bears the + stock,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Bears the fork and bears the buck:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Who cannot raise himself to-night</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Is evermore a ruined wight.</span><br/> + </p> + <p>HALF-WITCH (<i>below</i>)</p> + <p>So long I stumble, ill bestead,<br/> + And the others are now so far ahead!<br/> + At home I've neither rest nor cheer,<br/> + And yet I cannot gain them here.</p> + <p>CHORUS OF WITCHES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To cheer the witch will salve + avail;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A rag will answer for a sail;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Each trough a goodly ship supplies;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">He ne'er will fly, who now not flies.</span><br/> + </p> + <p>BOTH CHORUSES</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">When round the summit whirls our + flight,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Then lower, and on the ground alight;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And far and wide the heather press</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">With witchhood's swarms of + wantonness!</span><br/> + </p> + <p>(<i>They settle down</i>.)</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>They crowd and push, they roar and clatter!<br/> + They whirl and whistle, pull and chatter!<br/> + They shine, and spirt, and stink, and burn!<br/> + The true witch-element we learn.<br/> + Keep close! or we are parted, in our turn,<br/> + Where art thou?</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>in the distance</i>)</p> + <p>Here!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>What! whirled so far astray?<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>Then house-right I must use, and clear the way.<br/> + Make room! Squire Voland comes! Room, gentle rabble,<br/> + room!<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>Here, Doctor, hold to me: in one jump we'll resume<br/> + An easier space, and from the crowd be free:<br/> + It's too much, even for the like of me.<br/> + Yonder, with special light, there's something shining clearer<br/> + Within those bushes; I've a mind to see.<br/> + Come on! we'll slip a little nearer.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Spirit of Contradiction! On! I'll follow straight.<br/> + 'Tis planned most wisely, if I judge aright:<br/> + We climb the Brocken's top in the Walpurgis-Night,<br/> + That arbitrarily, here, ourselves we isolate.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But see, what motley flames among the heather!<br/> + There is a lively club together:<br/> + In smaller circles one is not alone.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Better the summit, I must own:<br/> + There fire and whirling smoke I see.<br/> + They seek the Evil One in wild confusion:<br/> + Many enigmas there might find solution.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>But there enigmas also knotted be.<br/> + Leave to the multitude their riot!<br/> + Here will we house ourselves in quiet.<br/> + It is an old, transmitted trade,<br/> + That in the greater world the little worlds are made.<br/> + I see stark-nude young witches congregate,<br/> + And old ones, veiled and hidden shrewdly:<br/> + On my account be kind, nor treat them rudely!<br/> + The trouble's small, the fun is great.<br/> + I hear the noise of instruments attuning,—<br/> + Vile din! yet one must learn to bear the crooning.<br/> + Come, come along! It <i>must</i> be, I declare!<br/> + I'll go ahead and introduce thee there,<br/> + Thine obligation newly earning.<br/> + That is no little space: what say'st thou, friend?<br/> + Look yonder! thou canst scarcely see the end:<br/> + A hundred fires along the ranks are burning.<br/> + They dance, they chat, they cook, they drink, they court:<br/> + Now where, just tell me, is there better sport?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Wilt thou, to introduce us to the revel,<br/> + Assume the part of wizard or of devil?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I'm mostly used, 'tis true, to go incognito,<br/> + But on a gala-day one may his orders show.<br/> + The Garter does not deck my suit,<br/> + But honored and at home is here the cloven foot.<br/> + Perceiv'st thou yonder snail? It cometh, slow and steady;<br/> + So delicately its feelers pry,<br/> + That it hath scented me already:<br/> + I cannot here disguise me, if I try.<br/> + But come! we'll go from this fire to a newer:<br/> + I am the go-between, and thou the wooer.</p> + <p>(<i>To some, who are sitting around dying embers</i>:)</p> + <p>Old gentlemen, why at the outskirts? Enter!<br/> + I'd praise you if I found you snugly in the centre,<br/> + With youth and revel round you like a zone:<br/> + You each, at home, are quite enough alone.</p> + <p>GENERAL</p> + <p>Say, who would put his trust in nations,<br/> + Howe'er for them one may have worked and planned?<br/> + For with the people, as with women,<br/> + Youth always has the upper hand.</p> + <p>MINISTER</p> + <p>They're now too far from what is just and sage.<br/> + I praise the old ones, not unduly:<br/> + When we were all-in-all, then, truly,<br/> + <i>Then</i> was the real golden age.</p> + <p>PARVENU</p> + <p>We also were not stupid, either,<br/> + And what we should not, often did;<br/> + But now all things have from their bases slid,<br/> + Just as we meant to hold them fast together.</p> + <p>AUTHOR</p> + <p>Who, now, a work of moderate sense will read?<br/> + Such works are held as antiquate and mossy;<br/> + And as regards the younger folk, indeed,<br/> + They never yet have been so pert and saucy.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>(<i>who all at once appears very old</i>)</p> + <p>I feel that men are ripe for Judgment-Day,<br/> + Now for the last time I've the witches'-hill ascended:<br/> + Since to the lees <i>my</i> cask is drained away,<br/> + The world's, as well, must soon be ended.</p> + <p>HUCKSTER-WITCH</p> + <p>Ye gentlemen, don't pass me thus!<br/> + Let not the chance neglected be!<br/> + Behold my wares attentively:<br/> + The stock is rare and various.<br/> + And yet, there's nothing I've collected—<br/> + No shop, on earth, like this you'll find!—<br/> + Which has not, once, sore hurt inflicted<br/> + Upon the world, and on mankind.<br/> + No dagger's here, that set not blood to flowing;<br/> + No cup, that hath not once, within a healthy frame<br/> + Poured speedy death, in poison glowing:<br/> + No gems, that have not brought a maid to shame;<br/> + No sword, but severed ties for the unwary,<br/> + Or from behind struck down the adversary.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Gossip! the times thou badly comprehendest:<br/> + What's done has happed—what haps, is done!<br/> + 'Twere better if for novelties thou sendest:<br/> + By such alone can we be won.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Let me not lose myself in all this pother!<br/> + This is a fair, as never was another!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>The whirlpool swirls to get above:<br/> + Thou'rt shoved thyself, imagining to shove.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>But who is that?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Note her especially,<br/> + Tis Lilith.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>Who?</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Adam's first wife is she.<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>Beware the lure within her lovely tresses,<br/> + The splendid sole adornment of her hair!<br/> + When she succeeds therewith a youth to snare,<br/> + Not soon again she frees him from her jesses.<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Those two, the old one with the young one sitting,<br/> + They've danced already more than fitting.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>No rest to-night for young or old!<br/> + They start another dance: come now, let us take hold!</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>dancing with the young witch</i>)</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A lovely dream once came to me;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I then beheld an apple-tree,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And there two fairest apples shone:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">They lured me so, I climbed thereon.</span><br/> + <br/> + THE FAIR ONE<br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Apples have been desired by you,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Since first in Paradise they grew;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">And I am moved with joy, to know</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">That such within my garden grow.</span><br/> + <br/> + MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>dancing with the old one</i>)<br/> + <br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">A dissolute dream once came to me:</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Therein I saw a cloven tree,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Which had + a————————;</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Yet,——as 'twas, I fancied + it.</span><br/> + </p> + <p>THE OLD ONE</p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">I offer here my best salute</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Unto the knight with cloven foot!</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Let him + a—————prepare,</span><br/> + <span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">If + him—————————does not + scare.</span><br/> + </p> + <p>PROKTOPHANTASMIST</p> + <p>Accurséd folk! How dare you venture thus?<br/> + Had you not, long since, demonstration<br/> + That ghosts can't stand on ordinary foundation?<br/> + And now you even dance, like one of us!</p> + <p>THE FAIR ONE (<i>dancing</i>)</p> + <p>Why does he come, then, to our ball?</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>dancing</i>)</p> + <p>O, everywhere on him you fall!<br/> + When others dance, he weighs the matter:<br/> + If he can't every step bechatter,<br/> + Then 'tis the same as were the step not made;<br/> + But if you forwards go, his ire is most displayed.<br/> + If you would whirl in regular gyration<br/> + As he does in his dull old mill,<br/> + He'd show, at any rate, good-will,—<br/> + Especially if you heard and heeded his hortation.</p> + <p>PROKTOPHANTASMIST</p> + <p>You still are here? Nay, 'tis a thing unheard!<br/> + Vanish, at once! We've said the enlightening word.<br/> + The pack of devils by no rules is daunted:<br/> + We are so wise, and yet is Tegel haunted.<br/> + To clear the folly out, how have I swept and stirred!<br/> + Twill ne'er be clean: why, 'tis a thing unheard!</p> + <p>THE FAIR ONE</p> + <p>Then cease to bore us at our ball!</p> + <p>PROKTOPHANTASMIST</p> + <p>I tell you, spirits, to your face,<br/> + I give to spirit-despotism no place;<br/> + My spirit cannot practise it at all.</p> + <p>(<i>The dance continues</i>)</p> + <p>Naught will succeed, I see, amid such revels;<br/> + Yet something from a tour I always save,<br/> + And hope, before my last step to the grave,<br/> + To overcome the poets and the devils.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>He now will seat him in the nearest puddle;<br/> + The solace this, whereof he's most assured:<br/> + And when upon his rump the leeches hang and fuddle,<br/> + He'll be of spirits and of Spirit cured.</p> + <p>(<i>To</i> FAUST, <i>who has left the dance</i>:)</p> + <p>Wherefore forsakest thou the lovely maiden,<br/> + That in the dance so sweetly sang?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Ah! in the midst of it there sprang<br/> + A red mouse from her mouth—sufficient reason.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>That's nothing! One must not so squeamish be;<br/> + So the mouse was not gray, enough for thee.<br/> + Who'd think of that in love's selected season?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Then saw I—.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p>What?</p> + </div> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Mephisto, seest thou there,<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>Alone and far, a girl most pale and fair?<br/> + She falters on, her way scarce knowing,<br/> + As if with fettered feet that stay her going.<br/> + I must confess, it seems to me<br/> + As if my kindly Margaret were she.<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Let the thing be! All thence have evil drawn:<br/> + It is a magic shape, a lifeless eidolon.<br/> + Such to encounter is not good:<br/> + Their blank, set stare benumbs the human blood,<br/> + And one is almost turned to stone.<br/> + Medusa's tale to thee is known.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Forsooth, the eyes they are of one whom, dying,<br/> + No hand with loving pressure closed;<br/> + That is the breast whereon I once was lying,—<br/> + The body sweet, beside which I reposed!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Tis magic all, thou fool, seduced so easily!<br/> + Unto each man his love she seems to be.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The woe, the rapture, so ensnare me,<br/> + That from her gaze I cannot tear me!<br/> + And, strange! around her fairest throat<br/> + A single scarlet band is gleaming,<br/> + No broader than a knife-blade seeming!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Quite right! The mark I also note.<br/> + Her head beneath her arm she'll sometimes carry;<br/> + Twas Perseus lopped it, her old adversary.<br/> + Thou crav'st the same illusion still!<br/> + Come, let us mount this little hill;<br/> + The Prater shows no livelier stir,<br/> + And, if they've not bewitched my sense,<br/> + I verily see a theatre.<br/> + What's going on?</p> + <p>SERVIBILIS</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>'Twill shortly recommence:<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>A new performance—'tis the last of seven.<br/> + To give that number is the custom here:<br/> + 'Twas by a Dilettante written,<br/> + And Dilettanti in the parts appear.<br/> + That now I vanish, pardon, I entreat you!<br/> + As Dilettante I the curtain raise.<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>When I upon the Blocksberg meet you,<br/> + I find it good: for that's your proper place.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-221.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-222.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XXII"></a>XXII</h2> + <p>WALPURGIS-NIGHT'S DREAM</p> + <p>OBERON AND TITANIA's GOLDEN WEDDING</p> + <p>INTERMEZZO</p> + <p>MANAGER</p> + <p>Sons of Mieding, rest to-day!<br/> + Needless your machinery:<br/> + Misty vale and mountain gray,<br/> + That is all the scenery.</p> + <p>HERALD</p> + <p>That the wedding golden be.<br/> + Must fifty years be rounded:<br/> + But <i>the Golden</i> give to me,<br/> + When the strife's compounded.</p> + <p>OBERON</p> + <p>Spirits, if you're here, be seen—<br/> + Show yourselves, delighted!<br/> + Fairy king and fairy queen,<br/> + They are newly plighted.</p> + <p>PUCK</p> + <p>Cometh Puck, and, light of limb,<br/> + Whisks and whirls in measure:<br/> + Come a hundred after him,<br/> + To share with him the pleasure.</p> + <p>ARIEL</p> + <p>Ariel's song is heavenly-pure,<br/> + His tones are sweet and rare ones:<br/> + Though ugly faces he allure,<br/> + Yet he allures the fair ones.</p> + <p>OBERON</p> + <p>Spouses, who would fain agree,<br/> + Learn how we were mated!<br/> + If your pairs would loving be,<br/> + First be separated!</p> + <p>TITANIA</p> + <p>If her whims the wife control,<br/> + And the man berate her,<br/> + Take him to the Northern Pole,<br/> + And her to the Equator!</p> + <p>ORCHESTRA. TUTTI.</p> + <p><i>Fortissimo</i>.</p> + <p>Snout of fly, mosquito-bill,<br/> + And kin of all conditions,<br/> + Frog in grass, and cricket-trill,—<br/> + These are the musicians!</p> + <p>SOLO</p> + <p>See the bagpipe on our track!<br/> + 'Tis the soap-blown bubble:<br/> + Hear the <i>schnecke-schnicke-schnack</i><br/> + Through his nostrils double!</p> + <p>SPIRIT, JUST GROWING INTO FORM</p> + <p>Spider's foot and paunch of toad,<br/> + And little wings—we know 'em!<br/> + A little creature 'twill not be,<br/> + But yet, a little poem.</p> + <p>A LITTLE COUPLE</p> + <p>Little step and lofty leap<br/> + Through honey-dew and fragrance:<br/> + You'll never mount the airy steep<br/> + With all your tripping vagrance.</p> + <p>INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER</p> + <p>Is't but masquerading play?<br/> + See I with precision?<br/> + Oberon, the beauteous fay,<br/> + Meets, to-night, my vision!</p> + <p>ORTHODOX</p> + <p>Not a claw, no tail I see!<br/> + And yet, beyond a cavil,<br/> + Like "the Gods of Greece," must he<br/> + Also be a devil.</p> + <p>NORTHERN ARTIST</p> + <p>I only seize, with sketchy air,<br/> + Some outlines of the tourney;<br/> + Yet I betimes myself prepare<br/> + For my Italian journey.</p> + <p>PURIST</p> + <p>My bad luck brings me here, alas!<br/> + How roars the orgy louder!<br/> + And of the witches in the mass,<br/> + But only two wear powder.</p> + <p>YOUNG WITCH</p> + <p>Powder becomes, like petticoat,<br/> + A gray and wrinkled noddy;<br/> + So I sit naked on my goat,<br/> + And show a strapping body.</p> + <p>MATRON</p> + <p>We've too much tact and policy<br/> + To rate with gibes a scolder;<br/> + Yet, young and tender though you be,<br/> + I hope to see you moulder.</p> + <p>LEADER OF THE BAND</p> + <p>Fly-snout and mosquito-bill,<br/> + Don't swarm so round the Naked!<br/> + Frog in grass and cricket-trill,<br/> + Observe the time, and make it!</p> + <p>WEATHERCOCK (<i>towards one side</i>)</p> + <p>Society to one's desire!<br/> + Brides only, and the sweetest!<br/> + And bachelors of youth and fire.<br/> + And prospects the completest!</p> + <p>WEATHERCOCK (<i>towards the other side</i>)</p> + <p>And if the Earth don't open now<br/> + To swallow up each ranter,<br/> + Why, then will I myself, I vow,<br/> + Jump into hell instanter!</p> + <p>XENIES</p> + <p>Us as little insects see!<br/> + With sharpest nippers flitting,<br/> + That our Papa Satan we<br/> + May honor as is fitting.</p> + <p>HENNINGS</p> + <p>How, in crowds together massed,<br/> + They are jesting, shameless!<br/> + They will even say, at last,<br/> + That their hearts are blameless.</p> + <p>MUSAGETES</p> + <p>Among this witches' revelry<br/> + His way one gladly loses;<br/> + And, truly, it would easier be<br/> + Than to command the Muses.</p> + <p>CI-DEVANT GENIUS OF THE AGE</p> + <p>The proper folks one's talents laud:<br/> + Come on, and none shall pass us!<br/> + The Blocksberg has a summit broad,<br/> + Like Germany's Parnassus.</p> + <p>INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER</p> + <p>Say, who's the stiff and pompous man?<br/> + He walks with haughty paces:<br/> + He snuffles all he snuffle can:<br/> + "He scents the Jesuits' traces."</p> + <p>CRANE</p> + <p>Both clear and muddy streams, for me<br/> + Are good to fish and sport in:<br/> + And thus the pious man you see<br/> + With even devils consorting.</p> + <p>WORLDLING</p> + <p>Yes, for the pious, I suspect,<br/> + All instruments are fitting;<br/> + And on the Blocksberg they erect<br/> + Full many a place of meeting.</p> + <p>DANCER</p> + <p>A newer chorus now succeeds!<br/> + I hear the distant drumming.<br/> + "Don't be disturbed! 'tis, in the reeds,<br/> + The bittern's changeless booming."</p> + <p>DANCING-MASTER</p> + <p>How each his legs in nimble trip<br/> + Lifts up, and makes a clearance!<br/> + The crooked jump, the heavy skip,<br/> + Nor care for the appearance.</p> + <p>GOOD FELLOW</p> + <p>The rabble by such hate are held,<br/> + To maim and slay delights them:<br/> + As Orpheus' lyre the brutes compelled,<br/> + The bagpipe here unites them.</p> + <p>DOGMATIST</p> + <p>I'll not be led by any lure<br/> + Of doubts or critic-cavils:<br/> + The Devil must be something, sure,—<br/> + Or how should there be devils?</p> + <p>IDEALIST</p> + <p>This once, the fancy wrought in me<br/> + Is really too despotic:<br/> + Forsooth, if I am all I see,<br/> + I must be idiotic!</p> + <p>REALIST</p> + <p>This racking fuss on every hand,<br/> + It gives me great vexation;<br/> + And, for the first time, here I stand<br/> + On insecure foundation.</p> + <p>SUPERNATURALIST</p> + <p>With much delight I see the play,<br/> + And grant to these their merits,<br/> + Since from the devils I also may<br/> + Infer the better spirits.</p> + <p>SCEPTIC</p> + <p>The flame they follow, on and on,<br/> + And think they're near the treasure:<br/> + But <i>Devil</i> rhymes with <i>Doubt</i> alone,<br/> + So I am here with pleasure.</p> + <p>LEADER OF THE BAND</p> + <p>Frog in green, and cricket-trill.<br/> + Such dilettants!—perdition!<br/> + Fly-snout and mosquito-bill,—<br/> + Each one's a fine musician!</p> + <p>THE ADROIT</p> + <p><i>Sans souci</i>, we call the clan<br/> + Of merry creatures so, then;<br/> + Go a-foot no more we can,<br/> + And on our heads we go, then.</p> + <p>THE AWKWARD</p> + <p>Once many a bit we sponged, but now,<br/> + God help us! that is done with:<br/> + Our shoes are all danced out, we trow,<br/> + We've but naked soles to run with.</p> + <p>WILL-O'-THE WISPS</p> + <p>From the marshes we appear,<br/> + Where we originated;<br/> + Yet in the ranks, at once, we're here<br/> + As glittering gallants rated.</p> + <p>SHOOTING-STAR</p> + <p>Darting hither from the sky,<br/> + In star and fire light shooting,<br/> + Cross-wise now in grass I lie:<br/> + Who'll help me to my footing?</p> + <p>THE HEAVY FELLOWS</p> + <p>Room! and round about us, room!<br/> + Trodden are the grasses:<br/> + Spirits also, spirits come,<br/> + And they are bulky masses.</p> + <p>PUCK</p> + <p>Enter not so stall-fed quite,<br/> + Like elephant-calves about one!<br/> + And the heaviest weight to-night<br/> + Be Puck, himself, the stout one!</p> + <p>ARIEL</p> + <p>If loving Nature at your back,<br/> + Or Mind, the wings uncloses,<br/> + Follow up my airy track<br/> + To the mount of roses!</p> + <p>ORCHESTRA</p> + <p><i>pianissimo</i><br/> + Cloud and trailing mist o'erhead<br/> + Are now illuminated:<br/> + Air in leaves, and wind in reed,<br/> + And all is dissipated.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-230.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XXIII"></a>XXIII</h2> + <p>DREARY DAY</p> + <p>A FIELD</p> + <p>FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>In misery! In despair! Long wretchedly astray on the face<br/> + of the earth, and now imprisoned! That gracious, ill-starred<br/> + creature shut in a dungeon as a criminal, and given<br/> + up to fearful torments! To this has it come! to this!—Treacherous,<br/> + contemptible spirit, and thou hast concealed it from<br/> + me!—Stand, then,—stand! Roll the devilish eyes wrathfully in<br/> + thy head! Stand and defy me with thine intolerable presence!<br/> + Imprisoned! In irretrievable misery! Delivered up to evil<br/> + spirits, and to condemning, unfeeling Man! And thou hast<br/> + lulled me, meanwhile, with the most insipid dissipations, hast<br/> + concealed from me her increasing wretchedness, and suffered<br/> + her to go helplessly to ruin!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-231.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +<p class="caption">Roll the devilish eyes wrathfully in thy head</p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>She is not the first.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Dog! Abominable monster! Transform him, thou Infinite<br/> + Spirit! transform the reptile again into his dog-shape? in which<br/> + it pleased him often at night to scamper on before me, to roll<br/> + himself at the feet of the unsuspecting wanderer, and hang<br/> + upon his shoulders when he fell! Transform him again into<br/> + his favorite likeness, that he may crawl upon his belly in the<br/> + dust before me,—that I may trample him, the outlawed, under<br/> + foot! Not the first! O woe! woe which no human soul can<br/> + grasp, that more than one being should sink into the depths<br/> + of this misery,—that the first, in its writhing death-agony<br/> + under the eyes of the Eternal Forgiver, did not expiate the<br/> + guilt of all others! The misery of this single one pierces to the<br/> + very marrow of my life; and thou art calmly grinning at the<br/> + fate of thousands!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Now we are already again at the end of our wits, where the<br/> + understanding of you men runs wild. Why didst thou enter<br/> + into fellowship with us, if thou canst not carry it out? Wilt fly,<br/> + and art not secure against dizziness? Did we thrust ourselves<br/> + upon thee, or thou thyself upon us?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Gnash not thus thy devouring teeth at me? It fills me with<br/> + horrible disgust. Mighty, glorious Spirit, who hast vouchsafed<br/> + to me Thine apparition, who knowest my heart and my soul,<br/> + why fetter me to the felon-comrade, who feeds on mischief and<br/> + gluts himself with ruin?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>Hast thou done?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Rescue her, or woe to thee! The fearfullest curse be upon<br/> + thee for thousands of ages!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I cannot loosen the bonds of the Avenger, nor undo his bolts.<br/> + Rescue her? Who was it that plunged her into ruin? I, or thou?</p> + <p>(FAUST <i>looks around wildly</i>.)</p> + <p>Wilt thou grasp the thunder? Well that it has not been<br/> + given to you, miserable mortals! To crush to pieces the innocent<br/> + respondent—that is the tyrant-fashion of relieving one's<br/> + self in embarrassments.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Take me thither! She shall be free!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>And the danger to which thou wilt expose thyself? Know<br/> + that the guilt of blood, from thy hand, still lies upon the town!<br/> + Avenging spirits hover over the spot where the victim fell, and<br/> + lie in wait for the returning murderer.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>That, too, from thee? Murder and death of a world upon<br/> + thee, monster! Take me thither, I say, and liberate her!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I will convey thee there; and hear, what I can do! Have I<br/> + all the power in Heaven and on Earth? I will becloud the<br/> + jailer's senses: get possession of the key, and lead her forth with<br/> + human hand! I will keep watch: the magic steeds are ready,<br/> + I will carry you off. So much is in my power.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Up and away!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-235.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XXIV"></a>XXIV</h2> + <p>NIGHT</p> + <p>OPEN FIELD</p> + <p>(FAUST <i>and</i> MEPHISTOPHELES <i>speeding onward on black horses</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>What weave they there round the raven-stone?</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>I know not what they are brewing and doing.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Soaring up, sweeping down, bowing and bending!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>A witches'-guild.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>They scatter, devote and doom!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>On! on!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-236.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2><a name="XXV"></a>XXV</h2> + <p>DUNGEON</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>(<i>with a bunch of keys and a lamp, before an iron door</i>)</p> + <p>A shudder, long unfelt, comes o'er me;<br/> + Mankind's collected woe o'erwhelms me, here.<br/> + She dwells within the dark, damp walls before me,<br/> + And all her crime was a delusion dear!<br/> + What! I delay to free her?<br/> + I dread, once again to see her?<br/> + On! my shrinking but lingers Death more near.</p> + <p>(<i>He grasps the lock: the sound of singing is heard inside</i>.)</p> + <div class="indented"> + <p><i>My mother, the harlot,</i><br/> + Who put me to death;<br/> + My father, the varlet,<br/> + Who eaten me hath!<br/> + Little sister, so good,<br/> + Laid my bones in the wood,<br/> + In the damp moss and clay:<br/> + <i>Then was I a beautiful bird o' the wood;</i><br/> + Fly away! Fly away!<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>FAUST <i>(unlocking)</i></p> + <p>She does not dream her lover listens near;<br/> + That he the rattling chain, the rustling straw, can hear.</p> + <p><i>(He enters</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>hiding herself on the pallet</i>)<br/> + Woe! woe! They come. O death of bitterness!</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>whispering</i>)<br/> + Hush! hush! The hour is come that frees thee.</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>throwing herself before him</i>)<br/> + Art thou a man, then pity my distress!</p> + <p>FAUST<br/> + Thy cries will wake the guards, and they will seize thee!<br/> + (<i>He takes hold of the fetters to unlock them</i>.)</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>on her knees</i>)</p> + <p>Who, headsman! unto thee such power<br/> + Over me could give?<br/> + Thou'rt come for me at midnight-hour:<br/> + Have mercy on me, let me live!<br/> + Is't not soon enough when morning chime has run?</p> + <p>(<i>She rises</i>.)</p> + <p>And I am yet so young, so young!<br/> + And now Death comes, and ruin!<br/> + I, too, was fair, and that was my undoing.<br/> + My love was near, but now he's far;<br/> + Torn lies the wreath, scattered the blossoms are.<br/> + Seize me not thus so violently!<br/> + Spare me! What have I done to thee?<br/> + Let me not vainly entreat thee!<br/> + I never chanced, in all my days, to meet thee!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Shall I outlive this misery?</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Now am I wholly in thy might.<br/> + But let me suckle, first, my baby!<br/> + I blissed it all this livelong night;<br/> + They took 't away, to vex me, maybe,<br/> + And now they say I killed the child outright.<br/> + And never shall I be glad again.<br/> + They sing songs about me! 'tis bad of the folk to do it!<br/> + There's an old story has the same refrain;<br/> + Who bade them so construe it?</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>falling upon his knees</i>)</p> + <p>Here lieth one who loves thee ever,<br/> + The thraldom of thy woe to sever.</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>flinging herself beside him</i>)</p> + <p>O let us kneel, and call the Saints to hide us!<br/> + Under the steps beside us,<br/> + The threshold under,<br/> + Hell heaves in thunder!<br/> + The Evil One<br/> + With terrible wrath<br/> + Seeketh a path<br/> + His prey to discover!</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>aloud</i>)</p> + <p>Margaret! Margaret!</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>attentively listening</i>)</p> + <p>That was the voice of my lover!</p> + <p>(<i>She springs to her feet: the fetters fall off</i>.)</p> + <p>Where is he? I heard him call me.<br/> + I am free! No one shall enthrall me.<br/> + To his neck will I fly,<br/> + On his bosom lie!<br/> + On the threshold he stood, and <i>Margaret</i>! calling,<br/> + Midst of Hell's howling and noises appalling,<br/> + Midst of the wrathful, infernal derision,<br/> + I knew the sweet sound of the voice of the vision!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>'Tis I!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>'Tis thou! O, say it once again!</p> + <p>(<i>Clasping him</i>.)</p> + <p>'Tis he! 'tis he! Where now is all my pain?<br/> + The anguish of the dungeon, and the chain?<br/> + 'Tis thou! Thou comest to save me,<br/> + And I am saved!—<br/> + Again the street I see<br/> + Where first I looked on thee;<br/> + And the garden, brightly blooming,<br/> + Where I and Martha wait thy coming.</p> + <p>FAUST (<i>struggling to leave</i>)</p> + <p>Come! Come with me!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Delay, now!<br/> + So fain I stay, when thou delayest!</p> + <p>(<i>Caressing him</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Away, now!<br/> + If longer here thou stayest,<br/> + We shall be made to dearly rue it.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Kiss me!—canst no longer do it?<br/> + My friend, so short a time thou'rt missing,<br/> + And hast unlearned thy kissing?<br/> + Why is my heart so anxious, on thy breast?<br/> + Where once a heaven thy glances did create me,<br/> + A heaven thy loving words expressed,<br/> + And thou didst kiss, as thou wouldst suffocate me—<br/> + Kiss me!<br/> + Or I'll kiss thee!</p> + <p>(<i>She embraces him</i>.)</p> + <p>Ah, woe! thy lips are chill,<br/> + And still.<br/> + How changed in fashion<br/> + Thy passion!<br/> + Who has done me this ill?</p> + <p>(<i>She turns away from him</i>.)</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Come, follow me! My darling, be more bold:<br/> + I'll clasp thee, soon, with warmth a thousand-fold;<br/> + But follow now! 'Tis all I beg of thee.</p> + <p>MARGARET (<i>turning to him</i>)</p> + <p>And is it thou? Thou, surely, certainly?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>'Tis I! Come on!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Thou wilt unloose my chain,<br/> + </p> + </div> + <p>And in thy lap wilt take me once again.<br/> + How comes it that thou dost not shrink from me?—<br/> + Say, dost thou know, my friend, whom thou mak'st free?<br/> + <br/></p> + + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Come! come! The night already vanisheth.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>My mother have I put to death;<br/> + I've drowned the baby born to thee.<br/> + Was it not given to thee and me?<br/> + Thee, too!—'Tis thou! It scarcely true doth seem—<br/> + Give me thy hand! 'Tis not a dream!<br/> + Thy dear, dear hand!—But, ah, 'tis wet!<br/> + Why, wipe it off! Methinks that yet<br/> + There's blood thereon.<br/> + Ah, God! what hast thou done?<br/> + Nay, sheathe thy sword at last!<br/> + Do not affray me!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>O, let the past be past!<br/> + Thy words will slay me!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>No, no! Thou must outlive us.<br/> + Now I'll tell thee the graves to give us:<br/> + Thou must begin to-morrow<br/> + The work of sorrow!<br/> + The best place give to my mother,<br/> + Then close at her side my brother,<br/> + And me a little away,<br/> + But not too very far, I pray!<br/> + And here, on my right breast, my baby lay!<br/> + Nobody else will lie beside me!—<br/> + Ah, within thine arms to hide me,<br/> + That was a sweet and a gracious bliss,<br/> + But no more, no more can I attain it!<br/> + I would force myself on thee and constrain it,<br/> + And it seems thou repellest my kiss:<br/> + And yet 'tis thou, so good, so kind to see!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>If thou feel'st it is I, then come with me!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Out yonder?</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>To freedom.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>If the grave is there,<br/> + Death lying in wait, then come!<br/> + From here to eternal rest:<br/> + No further step—no, no!<br/> + Thou goest away! O Henry, if I could go!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Thou canst! Just will it! Open stands the door.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>I dare not go: there's no hope any more.<br/> + Why should I fly? They'll still my steps waylay!<br/> + It is so wretched, forced to beg my living,<br/> + And a bad conscience sharper misery giving!<br/> + It is so wretched, to be strange, forsaken,<br/> + And I'd still be followed and taken!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>I'll stay with thee.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Be quick! Be quick!<br/> + Save thy perishing child!<br/> + Away! Follow the ridge<br/> + Up by the brook,</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-243.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +<p class="caption">If the grave is there, Death lying in wait, then come!</p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <p>Over the bridge,<br/> + Into the wood,<br/> + To the left, where the plank is placed<br/> + In the pool!<br/> + Seize it in haste!<br/> + 'Tis trying to rise,<br/> + 'Tis struggling still!<br/> + Save it! Save it!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Recall thy wandering will!<br/> + One step, and thou art free at last!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>If the mountain we had only passed!<br/> + There sits my mother upon a stone,—<br/> + I feel an icy shiver!<br/> + There sits my mother upon a stone,<br/> + And her head is wagging ever.<br/> + She beckons, she nods not, her heavy head falls o'er;<br/> + She slept so long that she wakes no more.<br/> + She slept, while we were caressing:<br/> + Ah, those were the days of blessing!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>Here words and prayers are nothing worth;<br/> + I'll venture, then, to bear thee forth.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>No—let me go! I'll suffer no force!<br/> + Grasp me not so murderously!<br/> + I've done, else, all things for the love of thee.</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>The day dawns: Dearest! Dearest!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Day? Yes, the day comes,—the last day breaks for me!<br/> + My wedding-day it was to be!<br/> + Tell no one thou has been with Margaret!<br/> + Woe for my garland! The chances<br/> + Are over—'tis all in vain!<br/> + We shall meet once again,<br/> + But not at the dances!<br/> + The crowd is thronging, no word is spoken:<br/> + The square below<br/> + And the streets overflow:<br/> + The death-bell tolls, the wand is broken.<br/> + I am seized, and bound, and delivered—<br/> + Shoved to the block—they give the sign!<br/> + Now over each neck has quivered<br/> + The blade that is quivering over mine.<br/> + Dumb lies the world like the grave!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <p>O had I ne'er been born!</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>appears outside</i>)</p> + <p>Off! or you're lost ere morn.<br/> + Useless talking, delaying and praying!<br/> + My horses are neighing:<br/> + The morning twilight is near.</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>What rises up from the threshold here?<br/> + He! he! suffer him not!<br/> + What does he want in this holy spot?<br/> + He seeks me!</p> + <p>FAUST</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>Thou shalt live.</p> + </div> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Judgment of God! myself to thee I give.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <p>Come! or I'll leave her in the lurch, and thee!</p> + <p>MARGARET</p> + <p>Thine am I, Father! rescue me!<br/> + Ye angels, holy cohorts, guard me,<br/> + Camp around, and from evil ward me!<br/> + Henry! I shudder to think of thee.</p> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES</p> + <p>She is judged!</p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from above</i>)</p> + <div class="indenteds"> + <p>She is saved!</p> + </div> + <p>MEPHISTOPHELES (<i>to</i> FAUST)</p> + <div class="indentedss"> + <p>Hither to me!</p> + </div> + <p>(<i>He disappears with</i> FAUST.)</p> + <p>VOICE (<i>from within, dying away</i>)</p> + <p>Henry! Henry!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:45%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-247.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="fig" style="width:25%;"> +<img src="images/Illus-248.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAUST ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Faust + +Author: Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe + +Release Date: January 4, 2005 [EBook #14591] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAUST *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Chuck Greif and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team + + + + + + +[Illustration: Faust] +[Illustration] +[Illustration] +[Illustration: _Have you not led this life quite long enough?_] + + + + +FAUST + +_by_ + +_Johann Wolfgang von Goethe_ + +WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY + +_Harry Clarke_ + +TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH, IN +THE ORIGINAL METRES, BY + +_Bayard Taylor_ + + +_An Illustrated Edition_ + +THE WORLD PUBLISHING COMPANY + +CLEVELAND, OHIO NEW YORK, N.Y. + + + + +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + +CONTENTS + + +PREFACE +AN GOETHE +DEDICATION +PRELUDE AT THE THEATRE +PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN + +SCENE I. NIGHT (_Faust's Monologue_) + II. BEFORE THE CITY-GATE + III. THE STUDY (_The Exorcism_) + IV. THE STUDY (_The Compact_) + V. AUERBACH'S CELLAR + VI. WITCHES' KITCHEN + VII. A STREET + VIII. EVENING + IX. PROMENADE + X. THE NEIGHBOR'S HOUSE + XI. STREET + XII. GARDEN + XIII. A GARDEN-ARBOR + XIV. FOREST AND CAVERN + XV. MARGARET'S ROOM + XVI. MARTHA'S GARDEN + XVII. AT THE FOUNTAIN + XVIII. DONJON (_Margaret's Prayer_) + XIX. NIGHT (_Valentine's Death_) + XX. CATHEDRAL + XXI. WALPURGIS-NIGHT + XXII. OBERON AND TITANIA'S GOLDEN WEDDING + XXIII. DREARY DAY + XXIV. NIGHT + XXV. DUNGEON +[Illustration] + + + + +FAUST + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration: Preface] + +It is twenty years since I first determined to attempt the translation +of _Faust_, in the original metres. At that time, although more than a +score of English translations of the First Part, and three or four of +the Second Part, were in existence, the experiment had not yet been +made. The prose version of Hayward seemed to have been accepted as the +standard, in default of anything more satisfactory: the English critics, +generally sustaining the translator in his views concerning the +secondary importance of form in Poetry, practically discouraged any +further attempt; and no one, familiar with rhythmical expression through +the needs of his own nature, had devoted the necessary love and patience +to an adequate reproduction of the great work of Goethe's life. + +Mr. Brooks was the first to undertake the task, and the publication of +his translation of the First Part (in 1856) induced me, for a time, to +give up my own design. No previous English version exhibited such +abnegation of the translator's own tastes and habits of thought, such +reverent desire to present the original in its purest form. The care and +conscience with which the work had been performed were so apparent, that +I now state with reluctance what then seemed to me to be its only +deficiencies,--a lack of the lyrical fire and fluency of the original in +some passages, and an occasional lowering of the tone through the use of +words which are literal, but not equivalent. The plan of translation +adopted by Mr. Brooks was so entirely my own, that when further +residence in Germany and a more careful study of both parts of _Faust_ +had satisfied me that the field was still open,--that the means +furnished by the poetical affinity of the two languages had not yet been +exhausted,--nothing remained for me but to follow him in all essential +particulars. His example confirmed me in the belief that there were few +difficulties in the way of a nearly literal yet thoroughly rhythmical +version of _Faust_, which might not be overcome by loving labor. A +comparison of seventeen English translations, in the arbitrary metres +adopted by the translators, sufficiently showed the danger of allowing +license in this respect: the white light of Goethe's thought was thereby +passed through the tinted glass of other minds, and assumed the coloring +of each. Moreover, the plea of selecting different metres in the hope of +producing a similar effect is unreasonable, where the identical metres +are possible. + +The value of form, in a poetical work, is the first question to be +considered. No poet ever understood this question more thoroughly than +Goethe himself, or expressed a more positive opinion in regard to it. +The alternative modes of translation which he presents (reported by +Riemer, quoted by Mrs. Austin, in her "Characteristics of Goethe," and +accepted by Mr. Hayward),[A] are quite independent of his views +concerning the value of form, which we find given elsewhere, in the +clearest and most emphatic manner.[B] Poetry is not simply a fashion of +expression: it is the form of expression absolutely required by a +certain class of ideas. Poetry, indeed, may be distinguished from Prose +by the single circumstance, that it is the utterance of whatever in man +cannot be perfectly uttered in any other than a rhythmical form: it is +useless to say that the naked meaning is independent of the form: on the +contrary, the form contributes essentially to the fullness of the +meaning. In Poetry which endures through its own inherent vitality, +there is no forced union of these two elements. They are as intimately +blended, and with the same mysterious beauty, as the sexes in the +ancient Hermaphroditus. To attempt to represent Poetry in Prose, is very +much like attempting to translate music into speech.[C] + +[A] "'There are two maxims of translation,' says he: 'the one requires +that the author, of a foreign nation, be brought to us in such a manner +that we may regard him as our own; the other, on the contrary, demands +of us that we transport ourselves over to him, and adopt his situation, +his mode of speaking, and his peculiarities. The advantages of both are +sufficiently known to all instructed persons, from masterly examples.'" +Is it necessary, however, that there should always be this alternative? +Where the languages are kindred, and equally capable of all varieties of +metrical expression, may not both these "maxims" be observed in the same +translation? Goethe, it is true, was of the opinion that _Faust_ ought +to be given, in French, in the manner of Clement Marot; but this was +undoubtedly because he felt the inadequacy of modern French to express +the naive, simple realism of many passages. The same objection does not +apply to English. There are a few archaic expressions in _Faust_, but no +more than are still allowed--nay, frequently encouraged--in the English +of our day. + +[B] "You are right," said Goethe; "there are great and mysterious +agencies included in the various forms of Poetry. If the substance of my +'Roman Elegies' were to be expressed in the tone and measure of Byron's +'Don Juan,' it would really have an atrocious effect."--_Eckermann_. + +"The rhythm," said Goethe, "is an unconscious result of the poetic mood. +If one should stop to consider it mechanically, when about to write a +poem, one would become bewildered and accomplish nothing of real +poetical value."--_Ibid_. + +"_All that is poetic in character should be rythmically treated_! Such +is my conviction; and if even a sort of poetic prose should be gradually +introduced, it would only show that the distinction between prose and +poetry had been completely lost sight of."--_Goethe to Schiller_, 1797. + +Tycho Mommsen, in his excellent essay, _Die Kunst des Deutschen +Uebersetzers aus neueren Sprachen_, goes so far as to say: "The metrical +or rhymed modelling of a poetical work is so essentially the germ of its +being, that, rather than by giving it up, we might hope to construct a +similar work of art before the eyes of our countrymen, by giving up or +changing the substance. The immeasurable result which has followed works +wherein the form has been retained--such as the Homer of Voss, and the +Shakespeare of Tieck and Schlegel--is an incontrovertible evidence of +the vitality of the endeavor." + +[C] "Goethe's poems exercise a great sway over me, not only by their +meaning, but also by their rhythm. It is a language which stimulates me +to composition."--_Beethoven_. + +The various theories of translation from the Greek and Latin poets have +been admirably stated by Dryden in his Preface to the "Translations from +Ovid's Epistles," and I do not wish to continue the endless +discussion,--especially as our literature needs examples, not opinions. +A recent expression, however, carries with it so much authority, that I +feel bound to present some considerations which the accomplished scholar +seems to have overlooked. Mr. Lewes[D] justly says: "The effect of +poetry is a compound of music and suggestion; this music and this +suggestion are intermingled in words, which to alter is to alter the +effect. For words in poetry are not, as in prose, simple representatives +of objects and ideas: they are parts of an organic whole,--they are +tones in the harmony." He thereupon illustrates the effect of +translation by changing certain well-known English stanzas into others, +equivalent in meaning, but lacking their felicity of words, their grace +and melody. I cannot accept this illustration as valid, because Mr. +Lewes purposely omits the very quality which an honest translator should +exhaust his skill in endeavoring to reproduce. He turns away from the +_one best_ word or phrase in the English lines he quotes, whereas the +translator seeks precisely that one best word or phrase (having _all_ +the resources of his language at command), to represent what is said in +_another_ language. More than this, his task is not simply mechanical: +he must feel, and be guided by, a secondary inspiration. Surrendering +himself to the full possession of the spirit which shall speak through +him, he receives, also, a portion of the same creative power. Mr. Lewes +reaches this conclusion: "If, therefore, we reflect what a poem _Faust_ +is, and that it contains almost every variety of style and metre, it +will be tolerably evident that no one unacquainted with the original can +form an adequate idea of it from translation,"[E] which is certainly +correct of any translation wherein something of the rhythmical variety +and beauty of the original is not retained. That very much of the +rhythmical character may be retained in English, was long ago shown by +Mr. Carlyle,[F] in the passages which he translated, both literally and +rhythmically, from the _Helena_ (Part Second). In fact, we have so many +instances of the possibility of reciprocally transferring the finest +qualities of English and German poetry, that there is no sufficient +excuse for an unmetrical translation of _Faust_. I refer especially to +such subtile and melodious lyrics as "The Castle by the Sea," of Uhland, +and the "Silent Land" of Salis, translated by Mr. Longfellow; Goethe's +"Minstrel" and "Coptic Song," by Dr. Hedge; Heine's "Two Grenadiers," by +Dr. Furness and many of Heine's songs by Mr Leland; and also to the +German translations of English lyrics, by Freiligrath and Strodtmann.[G] + + +[D] Life of Goethe (Book VI.). + +[E] Mr. Lewes gives the following advice: "The English reader would +perhaps best succeed who should first read Dr. Anster's brilliant +paraphrase, and then carefully go through Hayward's prose translation." +This is singularly at variance with the view he has just expressed. Dr. +Anster's version is an almost incredible dilution of the original, +written in _other_ metres; while Hayward's entirely omits the element of +poetry. + +[F] Foreign Review, 1828. + +[G] When Freiligrath can thus give us Walter Scott:-- + +"Kommt, wie der Wind kommt, Wenn Waelder erzittern Kommt, wie die +Brandung Wenn Flotten zersplittern! Schnell heran, schnell herab, +Schneller kommt Al'e!--Haeuptling und Bub' und Knapp, Herr und Vasalle!" + +or Strodtmann thus reproduce Tennyson:-- + +"Es faellt der Strahl auf Burg und Thal, Und schneeige Gipfel, reich an +Sagen; Viel' Lichter wehn auf blauen Seen, Bergab die Wasserstuerze +jagen! Blas, Huefthorn, blas, in Wiederhall erschallend: Blas, +Horn--antwortet, Echos, hallend, hallend, hallend!" + +--it must be a dull ear which would be satisfied with the omission of +rhythm and rhyme. + +I have a more serious objection, however, to urge against Mr. Hayward's +prose translation. Where all the restraints of verse are flung aside, we +should expect, at least, as accurate a reproduction of the sense, +spirit, and tone of the original, as the genius of our language will +permit. So far from having given us such a reproduction, Mr. Hayward not +only occasionally mistakes the exact meaning of the German text,[H] but, +wherever two phrases may be used to express the meaning with equal +fidelity, he very frequently selects that which has the less grace, +strength, or beauty.[I] + +[H] On his second page, the line _Mein Lied ertoent der unbekannten +Menge_, "My song sounds to the unknown multitude," is translated: "My +_sorrow_ voices itself to the strange throng." Other English +translators, I notice, have followed Mr. Hayward in mistaking _Lied_ for +_Leid_. + +I: + I take but one out of numerous instances, for the sake of +illustration. The close of the Soldier's Song (Part I. Scene II.) is:-- + + "Kuehn is das Muehen, + Herrlich der Lohn! + Und die Soldaten + Ziehen davon." + +Literally: + + Bold is the endeavor, + Splendid the pay! + And the soldiers + March away. + +This Mr. Hayward translates:-- + + Bold the adventure, + Noble the reward-- + And the soldiers + Are off. + +For there are few things which may not be said, in English, in a twofold +manner,--one poetic, and the other prosaic. In German, equally, a word +which in ordinary use has a bare prosaic character may receive a fairer +and finer quality from its place in verse. The prose translator should +certainly be able to feel the manifestation of this law in both +languages, and should so choose his words as to meet their reciprocal +requirements. A man, however, who is not keenly sensible to the power +and beauty and value of rhythm, is likely to overlook these delicate yet +most necessary distinctions. The author's thought is stripped of a last +grace in passing through his mind, and frequently presents very much the +same resemblance to the original as an unhewn shaft to the fluted +column. Mr. Hayward unconsciously illustrates his lack of a refined +appreciation of verse, "in giving," as he says, "_a sort of rhythmical +arrangement_ to the lyrical parts," his object being "to convey some +notion of the variety of versification which forms one great charm of +the poem." A literal translation is always possible in the unrhymed +passages; but even here Mr. Hayward's ear did not dictate to him the +necessity of preserving the original rhythm. + +While, therefore, I heartily recognize his lofty appreciation of +_Faust_,--while I honor him for the patient and conscientious labor he +has bestowed upon his translation,--I cannot but feel that he has +himself illustrated the unsoundness of his argument. Nevertheless, the +circumstance that his prose translation of _Faust_ has received so much +acceptance proves those qualities of the original work which cannot be +destroyed by a test so violent. From the cold bare outline thus +produced, the reader unacquainted with the German language would +scarcely guess what glow of color, what richness of changeful life, what +fluent grace and energy of movement have been lost in the process. We +must, of course, gratefully receive such an outline, where a nearer +approach to the form of the original is impossible, but, until the +latter has been demonstrated, we are wrong to remain content with the +cheaper substitute. + +It seems to me that in all discussions upon this subject the capacities +of the English language have received but scanty justice. The +intellectual tendencies of our race have always been somewhat +conservative, and its standards of literary taste or belief, once set +up, are not varied without a struggle. The English ear is suspicious of +new metres and unaccustomed forms of expression: there are critical +detectives on the track of every author, and a violation of the accepted +canons is followed by a summons to judgment. Thus the tendency is to +contract rather than to expand the acknowledged excellences of the +language.[J] + +[J] I cannot resist the temptation of quoting the following passage from +Jacob Grimm: "No one of all the modern languages has acquired a greater +force and strength than the English, through the derangement and +relinquishment of its ancient laws of sound. The unteachable +(nevertheless _learnable_) profusion of its middle-tones has conferred +upon it an intrinsic power of expression, such as no other human tongue +ever possessed. Its entire, thoroughly intellectual and wonderfully +successful foundation and perfected development issued from a marvelous +union of the two noblest tongues of Europe, the Germanic and the +Romanic. Their mutual relation in the English language is well known, +since the former furnished chiefly the material basis, while the latter +added the intellectual conceptions. The English language, by and through +which the greatest and most eminent poet of modern times--as contrasted +with ancient classical poetry--(of course I can refer only to +Shakespeare) was begotten and nourished, has a just claim to be called a +language of the world; and it appears to be destined, like the English +race, to a higher and broader sway in all quarters of the earth. For in +richness, in compact adjustment of parts, and in pure intelligence, none +of the living languages can be compared with it,--not even our German, +which is divided even as we are divided, and which must cast off many +imperfections before it can boldly enter on its career."--_Ueber den +Ursprung der Sprache_. + +The difficulties in the way of a nearly literal translation of _Faust_ +in the original metres have been exaggerated, because certain affinities +between the two languages have not been properly considered. With all +the splendor of versification in the work, it contains but few metres of +which the English tongue is not equally capable. Hood has familiarized +us with dactylic (triple) rhymes, and they are remarkably abundant and +skillful in Mr. Lowell's "Fable for the Critics": even the unrhymed +iambic hexameter of the _Helena_ occurs now and then in Milton's _Samson +Agonistes_. It is true that the metrical foot into which the German +language most naturally falls is the _trochaic_, while in English it is +the _iambic_: it is true that German is rich, involved, and tolerant of +new combinations, while English is simple, direct, and rather shy of +compounds; but precisely these differences are so modified in the German +of _Faust_ that there is a mutual approach of the two languages. In +_Faust_, the iambic measure predominates; the style is compact; the many +licenses which the author allows himself are all directed towards a +shorter mode of construction. On the other hand, English metre compels +the use of inversions, admits many verbal liberties prohibited to prose, +and so inclines towards various flexible features of its sister-tongue +that many lines of _Faust_ may be repeated in English without the +slightest change of meaning, measure, or rhyme. There are words, it is +true, with so delicate a bloom upon them that it can in no wise be +preserved; but even such words will always lose less when they carry +with them their rhythmical atmosphere. The flow of Goethe's verse is +sometimes so similar to that of the corresponding English metre, that +not only its harmonies and caesural pauses, but even its punctuation, +may be easily retained. + +I am satisfied that the difference between a translation of _Faust_ in +prose or metre is chiefly one of labor,--and of that labor which is +successful in proportion as it is joyously performed. My own task has +been cheered by the discovery, that the more closely I reproduced the +language of the original, the more of its rhythmical character was +transferred at the same time. If, now and then, there was an inevitable +alternative of meaning or music, I gave the preference to the former. By +the term "original metres" I do not mean a rigid, unyielding adherence +to every foot, line, and rhyme of the German original, although this has +very nearly been accomplished. Since the greater part of the work is +written in an irregular measure, the lines varying from three to six +feet, and the rhymes arranged according to the author's will, I do not +consider that an occasional change in the number of feet, or order of +rhyme, is any violation of the metrical plan. The single slight liberty +I have taken with the lyrical passages is in Margaret's song,--"The King +of Thule,"--in which, by omitting the alternate feminine rhymes, yet +retaining the metre, I was enabled to make the translation strictly +literal. If, in two or three instances, I have left a line unrhymed, I +have balanced the omission by giving rhymes to other lines which stand +unrhymed in the original text. For the same reason, I make no apology +for the imperfect rhymes, which are frequently a translation as well as +a necessity. With all its supreme qualities, _Faust_ is far from being a +technically perfect work.[K] + +[K] "At present, everything runs in technical grooves, and the critical +gentlemen begin to wrangle whether in a rhyme an _s_ should correspond +with an _s_ and not with _sz_. If I were young and reckless enough, I +would purposely offend all such technical caprices: I would use +alliteration, assonance, false rhyme, just according to my own will or +convenience--but, at the same time, I would attend to the main thing, +and endeavor to say so many good things that every one would be +attracted to read and remember them."--_Goethe_, in 1831. + +The feminine and dactylic rhymes, which have been for the most part +omitted by all metrical translators except Mr. Brooks, are +indispensable. The characteristic tone of many passages would be nearly +lost, without them. They give spirit and grace to the dialogue, point to +the aphoristic portions (especially in the Second Part), and an +ever-changing music to the lyrical passages. The English language, +though not so rich as the German in such rhymes, is less deficient than +is generally supposed. The difficulty to be overcome is one of +construction rather than of the vocabulary. The present participle can +only be used to a limited extent, on account of its weak termination, +and the want of an accusative form to the noun also restricts the +arrangement of words in English verse. I cannot hope to have been always +successful; but I have at least labored long and patiently, bearing +constantly in mind not only the meaning of the original and the +mechanical structure of the lines, but also that subtile and haunting +music which seems to govern rhythm instead of being governed by it. + +B.T. + +[Illustration] + + + + +AN GOETHE + +_Erhabener Geist, im Geisterreich verloren! +Wo immer Deine lichte Wohnung sey, +Zum hoeh'ren Schaffen bist Du neugeboren, +Und singest dort die voll're Litanei. +Von jenem Streben das Du auserkoren, +Vom reinsten Aether, drin Du athmest frei, +O neige Dich zu gnaedigem Erwiedern +Des letzten Wiederhalls von Deinen Liedern! + + +II + +Den alten Musen die bestaeubten Kronen +Nahmst Du, zu neuem Glanz, mit kuehner Hand: +Du loest die Raethsel aeltester Aeonen +Durch juengeren Glauben, helleren Verstand, +Und machst, wo rege Menschengeister wohnen, +Die ganze Erde Dir zum Vaterland; +Und Deine Juenger sehn in Dir, verwundert, +Verkoerpert schon das werdende Jahrhundert. + + +III + +Was Du gesungen, Aller Lust und Klagen, +Des Lebens Wiedersprueche, neu vermaehlt,-- +Die Harfe tausendstimmig frisch geschlagen, +Die Shakspeare einst, die einst Homer gewaehlt,-- +Darf ich in fremde Klaenge uebertragen +Das Alles, wo so Mancher schon gefehlt? +Lass Deinen Geist in meiner Stimme klingen, +Und was Du sangst, lass mich es Dir nachsingen!_ + +B.T. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration: =Dedication=] + +Again ye come, ye hovering Forms! I find ye, +As early to my clouded sight ye shone! +Shall I attempt, this once, to seize and bind ye? +Still o'er my heart is that illusion thrown? +Ye crowd more near! Then, be the reign assigned ye, +And sway me from your misty, shadowy zone! +My bosom thrills, with youthful passion shaken, +From magic airs that round your march awaken. + +Of joyous days ye bring the blissful vision; +The dear, familiar phantoms rise again, +And, like an old and half-extinct tradition, +First Love returns, with Friendship in his train. +Renewed is Pain: with mournful repetition +Life tracks his devious, labyrinthine chain, +And names the Good, whose cheating fortune tore them +From happy hours, and left me to deplore them. + +They hear no longer these succeeding measures, +The souls, to whom my earliest songs I sang: + +Dispersed the friendly troop, with all its pleasures, +And still, alas! the echoes first that rang! +I bring the unknown multitude my treasures; +Their very plaudits give my heart a pang, +And those beside, whose joy my Song so flattered, +If still they live, wide through the world are scattered. + +And grasps me now a long-unwonted yearning +For that serene and solemn Spirit-Land: +My song, to faint Aeolian murmurs turning, +Sways like a harp-string by the breezes fanned. +I thrill and tremble; tear on tear is burning, +And the stern heart is tenderly unmanned. +What I possess, I see far distant lying, +And what I lost, grows real and undying. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration: =Prelude at the Theatre=] + + + +MANAGER DRAMATIC POET MERRY-ANDREW + +MANAGER + +You two, who oft a helping hand +Have lent, in need and tribulation. +Come, let me know your expectation +Of this, our enterprise, in German land! +I wish the crowd to feel itself well treated, +Especially since it lives and lets me live; +The posts are set, the booth of boards completed. +And each awaits the banquet I shall give. +Already there, with curious eyebrows raised, +They sit sedate, and hope to be amazed. +I know how one the People's taste may flatter, +Yet here a huge embarrassment I feel: +What they're accustomed to, is no great matter, +But then, alas! they've read an awful deal. +How shall we plan, that all be fresh and new,-- +Important matter, yet attractive too? +For 'tis my pleasure-to behold them surging, +When to our booth the current sets apace, +And with tremendous, oft-repeated urging, +Squeeze onward through the narrow gate of grace: +By daylight even, they push and cram in +To reach the seller's box, a fighting host, +And as for bread, around a baker's door, in famine, +To get a ticket break their necks almost. +This miracle alone can work the Poet +On men so various: now, my friend, pray show it. + + +POET + + +Speak not to me of yonder motley masses, +Whom but to see, puts out the fire of Song! +Hide from my view the surging crowd that passes, +And in its whirlpool forces us along! +No, lead me where some heavenly silence glasses +The purer joys that round the Poet throng,-- +Where Love and Friendship still divinely fashion +The bonds that bless, the wreaths that crown his passion! +Ah, every utterance from the depths of feeling +The timid lips have stammeringly expressed,-- +Now failing, now, perchance, success revealing,-- +Gulps the wild Moment in its greedy breast; +Or oft, reluctant years its warrant sealing, +Its perfect stature stands at last confessed! +What dazzles, for the Moment spends its spirit: +What's genuine, shall Posterity inherit. + + +MERRY-ANDREW + + +Posterity! Don't name the word to me! +If _I_ should choose to preach Posterity, +Where would you get contemporary fun? +That men _will_ have it, there's no blinking: +A fine young fellow's presence, to my thinking, +Is something worth, to every one. +Who genially his nature can outpour, +Takes from the People's moods no irritation; +The wider circle he acquires, the more +Securely works his inspiration. +Then pluck up heart, and give us sterling coin! +Let Fancy be with her attendants fitted,-- +Sense, Reason, Sentiment, and Passion join,-- +But have a care, lest Folly be omitted! + +MANAGER + +Chiefly, enough of incident prepare! +They come to look, and they prefer to stare. +Reel off a host of threads before their faces, +So that they gape in stupid wonder: then +By sheer diffuseness you have won their graces, +And are, at once, most popular of men. +Only by mass you touch the mass; for any +Will finally, himself, his bit select: +Who offers much, brings something unto many, +And each goes home content with the effect, +If you've a piece, why, just in pieces give it: +A hash, a stew, will bring success, believe it! +'Tis easily displayed, and easy to invent. +What use, a Whole compactly to present? +Your hearers pick and pluck, as soon as they receive it! + +POET + +You do not feel, how such a trade debases; +How ill it suits the Artist, proud and true! +The botching work each fine pretender traces +Is, I perceive, a principle with you. + +MANAGER + +Such a reproach not in the least offends; +A man who some result intends +Must use the tools that best are fitting. +Reflect, soft wood is given to you for splitting, +And then, observe for whom you write! +If one comes bored, exhausted quite, +Another, satiate, leaves the banquet's tapers, +And, worst of all, full many a wight +Is fresh from reading of the daily papers. +Idly to us they come, as to a masquerade, +Mere curiosity their spirits warming: +The ladies with themselves, and with their finery, aid, +Without a salary their parts performing. +What dreams are yours in high poetic places? +You're pleased, forsooth, full houses to behold? +Draw near, and view your patrons' faces! +The half are coarse, the half are cold. +One, when the play is out, goes home to cards; +A wild night on a wench's breast another chooses: +Why should you rack, poor, foolish bards, +For ends like these, the gracious Muses? +I tell you, give but more--more, ever more, they ask: +Thus shall you hit the mark of gain and glory. +Seek to confound your auditory! +To satisfy them is a task.-- +What ails you now? Is't suffering, or pleasure? + +POET + +Go, find yourself a more obedient slave! +What! shall the Poet that which Nature gave, +The highest right, supreme Humanity, +Forfeit so wantonly, to swell your treasure? +Whence o'er the heart his empire free? +The elements of Life how conquers he? +Is't not his heart's accord, urged outward far and dim, +To wind the world in unison with him? +When on the spindle, spun to endless distance, +By Nature's listless hand the thread is twirled, +And the discordant tones of all existence +In sullen jangle are together hurled, +Who, then, the changeless orders of creation +Divides, and kindles into rhythmic dance? +Who brings the One to join the general ordination, +Where it may throb in grandest consonance? +Who bids the storm to passion stir the bosom? +In brooding souls the sunset burn above? +Who scatters every fairest April blossom +Along the shining path of Love? +Who braids the noteless leaves to crowns, requiting +Desert with fame, in Action's every field? +Who makes Olympus sure, the Gods uniting? +The might of Man, as in the Bard revealed. + +MERRY-ANDREW + +So, these fine forces, in conjunction, +Propel the high poetic function, +As in a love-adventure they might play! +You meet by accident; you feel, you stay, +And by degrees your heart is tangled; +Bliss grows apace, and then its course is jangled; +You're ravished quite, then comes a touch of woe, +And there's a neat romance, completed ere you know! +Let us, then, such a drama give! +Grasp the exhaustless life that all men live! +Each shares therein, though few may comprehend: +Where'er you touch, there's interest without end. +In motley pictures little light, +Much error, and of truth a glimmering mite, +Thus the best beverage is supplied, +Whence all the world is cheered and edified. +Then, at your play, behold the fairest flower +Of youth collect, to hear the revelation! +Each tender soul, with sentimental power, +Sucks melancholy food from your creation; +And now in this, now that, the leaven works. +For each beholds what in his bosom lurks. +They still are moved at once to weeping or to laughter, +Still wonder at your flights, enjoy the show they see: +A mind, once formed, is never suited after; +One yet in growth will ever grateful be. + +POET + +Then give me back that time of pleasures, +While yet in joyous growth I sang,-- +When, like a fount, the crowding measures +Uninterrupted gushed and sprang! +Then bright mist veiled the world before me, +In opening buds a marvel woke, +As I the thousand blossoms broke, +Which every valley richly bore me! +I nothing had, and yet enough for youth-- +Joy in Illusion, ardent thirst for Truth. +Give, unrestrained, the old emotion, +The bliss that touched the verge of pain, +The strength of Hate, Love's deep devotion,-- +O, give me back my youth again! + +MERRY ANDREW + +Youth, good my friend, you certainly require +When foes in combat sorely press you; +When lovely maids, in fond desire, +Hang on your bosom and caress you; +When from the hard-won goal the wreath +Beckons afar, the race awaiting; +When, after dancing out your breath, +You pass the night in dissipating:-- +But that familiar harp with soul +To play,--with grace and bold expression, +And towards a self-erected goal +To walk with many a sweet digression,-- +This, aged Sirs, belongs to you, +And we no less revere you for that reason: +Age childish makes, they say, but 'tis not true; +We're only genuine children still, in Age's season! + + +MANAGER + +The words you've bandied are sufficient; +'Tis deeds that I prefer to see: +In compliments you're both proficient, +But might, the while, more useful be. +What need to talk of Inspiration? +'Tis no companion of Delay. +If Poetry be your vocation, +Let Poetry your will obey! +Full well you know what here is wanting; +The crowd for strongest drink is panting, +And such, forthwith, I'd have you brew. +What's left undone to-day, To-morrow will not do. +Waste not a day in vain digression: +With resolute, courageous trust +Seize every possible impression, +And make it firmly your possession; +You'll then work on, because you must. +Upon our German stage, you know it, +Each tries his hand at what he will; +So, take of traps and scenes your fill, +And all you find, be sure to show it! +Use both the great and lesser heavenly light,-- +Squander the stars in any number, +Beasts, birds, trees, rocks, and all such lumber, +Fire, water, darkness, Day and Night! +Thus, in our booth's contracted sphere, +The circle of Creation will appear, +And move, as we deliberately impel, +From Heaven, across the World, to Hell! +[Illustration] +[Illustration] + +PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN + +THE LORD THE HEAVENLY HOST _Afterwards_ +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_The_ THREE ARCHANGELS _come forward_.) + + +RAPHAEL + +The sun-orb sings, in emulation, +'Mid brother-spheres, his ancient round: +His path predestined through Creation +He ends with step of thunder-sound. +The angels from his visage splendid +Draw power, whose measure none can say; +The lofty works, uncomprehended, +Are bright as on the earliest day. + + +GABRIEL + +And swift, and swift beyond conceiving, +The splendor of the world goes round, +Day's Eden-brightness still relieving +The awful Night's intense profound: +The ocean-tides in foam are breaking, +Against the rocks' deep bases hurled, +And both, the spheric race partaking, +Eternal, swift, are onward whirled! + + +MICHAEL + +And rival storms abroad are surging +From sea to land, from land to sea. +A chain of deepest action forging +Round all, in wrathful energy. +There flames a desolation, blazing +Before the Thunder's crashing way: +Yet, Lord, Thy messengers are praising +The gentle movement of Thy Day. + + +THE THREE + +Though still by them uncomprehended, +From these the angels draw their power, +And all Thy works, sublime and splendid, +Are bright as in Creation's hour. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Since Thou, O Lord, deign'st to approach again +And ask us how we do, in manner kindest, +And heretofore to meet myself wert fain, +Among Thy menials, now, my face Thou findest. +Pardon, this troop I cannot follow after +With lofty speech, though by them scorned and spurned: +My pathos certainly would move Thy laughter, +If Thou hadst not all merriment unlearned. +Of suns and worlds I've nothing to be quoted; +How men torment themselves, is all I've noted. +The little god o' the world sticks to the same old way, +And is as whimsical as on Creation's day. +Life somewhat better might content him, +But for the gleam of heavenly light which Thou hast lent + him: +He calls it Reason--thence his power's increased, +To be far beastlier than any beast. +Saving Thy Gracious Presence, he to me +A long-legged grasshopper appears to be, +That springing flies, and flying springs, +And in the grass the same old ditty sings. +Would he still lay among the grass he grows in! +Each bit of dung he seeks, to stick his nose in. + + +THE LORD + +Hast thou, then, nothing more to mention? +Com'st ever, thus, with ill intention? +Find'st nothing right on earth, eternally? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No, Lord! I find things, there, still bad as they can be. +Man's misery even to pity moves my nature; +I've scarce the heart to plague the wretched creature. + + +THE LORD + +Know'st Faust? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The Doctor Faust? + + +THE LORD + +My servant, he! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Forsooth! He serves you after strange devices: +No earthly meat or drink the fool suffices: +His spirit's ferment far aspireth; +Half conscious of his frenzied, crazed unrest, +The fairest stars from Heaven he requireth, +From Earth the highest raptures and the best, +And all the Near and Far that he desireth +Fails to subdue the tumult of his breast. + + +THE LORD + +Though still confused his service unto Me, +I soon shall lead him to a clearer morning. +Sees not the gardener, even while buds his tree, +Both flower and fruit the future years adorning? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What will you bet? There's still a chance to gain him, +If unto me full leave you give, +Gently upon _my_ road to train him! + + +THE LORD + +As long as he on earth shall live, +So long I make no prohibition. +While Man's desires and aspirations stir, +He cannot choose but err. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My thanks! I find the dead no acquisition, +And never cared to have them in my keeping. +I much prefer the cheeks where ruddy blood is leaping, +And when a corpse approaches, close my house: +It goes with me, as with the cat the mouse. + + +THE LORD + +Enough! What thou hast asked is granted. +Turn off this spirit from his fountain-head; +To trap him, let thy snares be planted, +And him, with thee, be downward led; +Then stand abashed, when thou art forced to say: +A good man, through obscurest aspiration, +Has still an instinct of the one true way. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Agreed! But 'tis a short probation. +About my bet I feel no trepidation. +If I fulfill my expectation, +You'll let me triumph with a swelling breast: +Dust shall he eat, and with a zest, +As did a certain snake, my near relation. + + +THE LORD + +Therein thou'rt free, according to thy merits; +The like of thee have never moved My hate. +Of all the bold, denying Spirits, +The waggish knave least trouble doth create. +Man's active nature, flagging, seeks too soon the level; +Unqualified repose he learns to crave; +Whence, willingly, the comrade him I gave, +Who works, excites, and must create, as Devil. +But ye, God's sons in love and duty, +Enjoy the rich, the ever-living Beauty! +Creative Power, that works eternal schemes, +Clasp you in bonds of love, relaxing never, +And what in wavering apparition gleams +Fix in its place with thoughts that stand forever! + + +(_Heaven closes: the_ ARCHANGELS _separate_.) + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_solus_) + +I like, at times, to hear The Ancient's word, +And have a care to be most civil: +It's really kind of such a noble Lord +So humanly to gossip with the Devil! +[Illustration] +[Illustration] + + + + +FIRST PART OF THE TRAGEDY + +I + +NIGHT + +(_A lofty-arched, narrow, Gothic chamber_. FAUST, _in a chair at his +desk, restless_.) + + +FAUST + +I've studied now Philosophy +And Jurisprudence, Medicine,-- +And even, alas! Theology,-- +From end to end, with labor keen; +And here, poor fool! with all my lore +I stand, no wiser than before: +I'm Magister--yea, Doctor--hight, +And straight or cross-wise, wrong or right, +These ten years long, with many woes, +I've led my scholars by the nose,-- +And see, that nothing can be known! +_That_ knowledge cuts me to the bone. +I'm cleverer, true, than those fops of teachers, +Doctors and Magisters, Scribes and Preachers; +Neither scruples nor doubts come now to smite me, +Nor Hell nor Devil can longer affright me. + +For this, all pleasure am I foregoing; +I do not pretend to aught worth knowing, +I do not pretend I could be a teacher +To help or convert a fellow-creature. +Then, too, I've neither lands nor gold, +Nor the world's least pomp or honor hold-- +No dog would endure such a curst existence! +Wherefore, from Magic I seek assistance, +That many a secret perchance I reach +Through spirit-power and spirit-speech, +And thus the bitter task forego +Of saying the things I do not know,-- +That I may detect the inmost force +Which binds the world, and guides its course; +Its germs, productive powers explore, +And rummage in empty words no more! + +O full and splendid Moon, whom I +Have, from this desk, seen climb the sky +So many a midnight,--would thy glow +For the last time beheld my woe! +Ever thine eye, most mournful friend, +O'er books and papers saw me bend; +But would that I, on mountains grand, +Amid thy blessed light could stand, +With spirits through mountain-caverns hover, +Float in thy twilight the meadows over, +And, freed from the fumes of lore that swathe me, +To health in thy dewy fountains bathe me! + +Ah, me! this dungeon still I see. +This drear, accursed masonry, +Where even the welcome daylight strains +But duskly through the painted panes. +Hemmed in by many a toppling heap +Of books worm-eaten, gray with dust, +Which to the vaulted ceiling creep, +Against the smoky paper thrust,-- +With glasses, boxes, round me stacked, +And instruments together hurled, +Ancestral lumber, stuffed and packed-- +Such is my world: and what a world! + +And do I ask, wherefore my heart +Falters, oppressed with unknown needs? +Why some inexplicable smart +All movement of my life impedes? +Alas! in living Nature's stead, +Where God His human creature set, +In smoke and mould the fleshless dead +And bones of beasts surround me yet! + +Fly! Up, and seek the broad, free land! +And this one Book of Mystery +From Nostradamus' very hand, +Is't not sufficient company? +When I the starry courses know, +And Nature's wise instruction seek, +With light of power my soul shall glow, +As when to spirits spirits speak. +Tis vain, this empty brooding here, +Though guessed the holy symbols be: +Ye, Spirits, come--ye hover near-- +Oh, if you hear me, answer me! + +(_He opens the Book, and perceives the sign of the Macrocosm_.) + +Ha! what a sudden rapture leaps from this +I view, through all my senses swiftly flowing! +I feel a youthful, holy, vital bliss +In every vein and fibre newly glowing. +Was it a God, who traced this sign, +With calm across my tumult stealing, +My troubled heart to joy unsealing, +With impulse, mystic and divine, +The powers of Nature here, around my path, revealing? +Am I a God?--so clear mine eyes! +In these pure features I behold +Creative Nature to my soul unfold. +What says the sage, now first I recognize: +"The spirit-world no closures fasten; +Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead: +Disciple, up! untiring, hasten +To bathe thy breast in morning-red!" + +(_He contemplates the sign_.) + +How each the Whole its substance gives, +Each in the other works and lives! +Like heavenly forces rising and descending, +Their golden urns reciprocally lending, +With wings that winnow blessing +From Heaven through Earth I see them pressing, +Filling the All with harmony unceasing! +How grand a show! but, ah! a show alone. +Thee, boundless Nature, how make thee my own? +Where you, ye beasts? Founts of all Being, shining, +Whereon hang Heaven's and Earth's desire, +Whereto our withered hearts aspire,-- +Ye flow, ye feed: and am I vainly pining? + +(_He turns the leaves impatiently, and perceives the sign of the +Earth-Spirit_.) + +How otherwise upon me works this sign! +Thou, Spirit of the Earth, art nearer: +Even now my powers are loftier, clearer; +I glow, as drunk with new-made wine: +New strength and heart to meet the world incite me, +The woe of earth, the bliss of earth, invite me, +And though the shock of storms may smite me, +No crash of shipwreck shall have power to fright me! +Clouds gather over me-- +The moon conceals her light-- +The lamp's extinguished!-- +Mists rise,--red, angry rays are darting +Around my head!--There falls +A horror from the vaulted roof, +And seizes me! +I feel thy presence, Spirit I invoke! +Reveal thyself! +Ha! in my heart what rending stroke! +With new impulsion +My senses heave in this convulsion! +I feel thee draw my heart, absorb, exhaust me: +Thou must! thou must! and though my life it cost me! + +(_He seizes the book, and mysteriously pronounces the sign of +the Spirit. A ruddy flame flashes: the Spirit appears in +the flame_.) + + +SPIRIT + +Who calls me? + + +FAUST (_with averted head_) + +Terrible to see! + + +SPIRIT + +Me hast thou long with might attracted, +Long from my sphere thy food exacted, +And now-- + +FAUST + + Woe! I endure not thee! + + +SPIRIT + +To view me is thine aspiration, +My voice to hear, my countenance to see; +Thy powerful yearning moveth me, +Here am I!--what mean perturbation +Thee, superhuman, shakes? Thy soul's high calling, where? +Where is the breast, which from itself a world did bear, +And shaped and cherished--which with joy expanded, +To be our peer, with us, the Spirits, banded? +Where art thou, Faust, whose voice has pierced to me, +Who towards me pressed with all thine energy? +_He_ art thou, who, my presence breathing, seeing, +Trembles through all the depths of being, +A writhing worm, a terror-stricken form? + + +FAUST + +Thee, form of flame, shall I then fear? +Yes, I am Faust: I am thy peer! + + +SPIRIT + + In the tides of Life, in Action's storm, + A fluctuant wave, + A shuttle free, + Birth and the Grave, + An eternal sea, + A weaving, flowing + Life, all-glowing, +Thus at Time's humming loom 'tis my hand prepares +The garment of Life which the Deity wears! + + +FAUST + +Thou, who around the wide world wendest, +Thou busy Spirit, how near I feel to thee! + + +SPIRIT + +Thou'rt like the Spirit which thou comprehendest, +Not me! + +(_Disappears_.) + + +FAUST (_overwhelmed_) + +Not thee! +Whom then? +I, image of the Godhead! +Not even like thee! + +(_A knock_). + +O Death!--I know it--'tis my Famulus! +My fairest luck finds no fruition: +In all the fullness of my vision +The soulless sneak disturbs me thus! + +(_Enter_ WAGNER_, in dressing-gown and night-cap, a lamp in +his hand. _FAUST_ turns impatiently_.) + + +WAGNER + +Pardon, I heard your declamation; +'Twas sure an old Greek tragedy you read? +In such an art I crave some preparation, +Since now it stands one in good stead. +I've often heard it said, a preacher +Might learn, with a comedian for a teacher. + + +FAUST + +Yes, when the priest comedian is by nature, +As haply now and then the case may be. + + +WAGNER + +Ah, when one studies thus, a prisoned creature, +That scarce the world on holidays can see,-- +Scarce through a glass, by rare occasion, +How shall one lead it by persuasion? + + +FAUST + +You'll ne'er attain it, save you know the feeling, +Save from the soul it rises clear, +Serene in primal strength, compelling +The hearts and minds of all who hear. +You sit forever gluing, patching; +You cook the scraps from others' fare; +And from your heap of ashes hatching +A starveling flame, ye blow it bare! +Take children's, monkeys' gaze admiring, +If such your taste, and be content; +But ne'er from heart to heart you'll speak inspiring, +Save your own heart is eloquent! + + +WAGNER + +Yet through delivery orators succeed; +I feel that I am far behind, indeed. + + +FAUST + +Seek thou the honest recompense! +Beware, a tinkling fool to be! +With little art, clear wit and sense +Suggest their own delivery; +And if thou'rt moved to speak in earnest, +What need, that after words thou yearnest? +Yes, your discourses, with their glittering show, +Where ye for men twist shredded thought like paper, +Are unrefreshing as the winds that blow +The rustling leaves through chill autumnal vapor! + + +WAGNER + +Ah, God! but Art is long, +And Life, alas! is fleeting. +And oft, with zeal my critic-duties meeting, +In head and breast there's something wrong. + +How hard it is to compass the assistance +Whereby one rises to the source! +And, haply, ere one travels half the course +Must the poor devil quit existence. + + +FAUST + +Is parchment, then, the holy fount before thee, +A draught wherefrom thy thirst forever slakes? +No true refreshment can restore thee, +Save what from thine own soul spontaneous breaks. + + +WAGNER + +Pardon! a great delight is granted +When, in the spirit of the ages planted, +We mark how, ere our times, a sage has thought, +And then, how far his work, and grandly, we have brought. + + +FAUST + +O yes, up to the stars at last! +Listen, my friend: the ages that are past +Are now a book with seven seals protected: +What you the Spirit of the Ages call +Is nothing but the spirit of you all, +Wherein the Ages are reflected. +So, oftentimes, you miserably mar it! +At the first glance who sees it runs away. +An offal-barrel and a lumber-garret, +Or, at the best, a Punch-and-Judy play, +With maxims most pragmatical and hitting, +As in the mouths of puppets are befitting! + + +WAGNER + +But then, the world--the human heart and brain! +Of these one covets some slight apprehension. + + +FAUST + +Yes, of the kind which men attain! +Who dares the child's true name in public mention? +The few, who thereof something really learned, +Unwisely frank, with hearts that spurned concealing, +And to the mob laid bare each thought and feeling, +Have evermore been crucified and burned. +I pray you, Friend, 'tis now the dead of night; +Our converse here must be suspended. + + +WAGNER + +I would have shared your watches with delight, +That so our learned talk might be extended. +To-morrow, though, I'll ask, in Easter leisure, +This and the other question, at your pleasure. +Most zealously I seek for erudition: +Much do I know--but to know all is my ambition. + + [_Exit_. + + +FAUST (_solus_) + +That brain, alone, not loses hope, whose choice is +To stick in shallow trash forevermore,-- +Which digs with eager hand for buried ore, +And, when it finds an angle-worm, rejoices! + +Dare such a human voice disturb the flow, +Around me here, of spirit-presence fullest? +And yet, this once my thanks I owe +To thee, of all earth's sons the poorest, dullest! +For thou hast torn me from that desperate state +Which threatened soon to overwhelm my senses: +The apparition was so giant-great, +It dwarfed and withered all my soul's pretences! + +I, image of the Godhead, who began-- +Deeming Eternal Truth secure in nearness-- +Ye choirs, have ye begun the sweet, consoling chant, +Which, through the night of Death, the angels ministrant +Sang, God's new Covenant repeating? + + +CHORUS OF WOMEN + + With spices and precious + Balm, we arrayed him; + Faithful and gracious, + We tenderly laid him: + Linen to bind him + Cleanlily wound we: + Ah! when we would find him, + Christ no more found we! + + +CHORUS OF ANGELS + + Christ is ascended! + Bliss hath invested him,-- + Woes that molested him, + Trials that tested him, + Gloriously ended! + + +FAUST + +Why, here in dust, entice me with your spell, +Ye gentle, powerful sounds of Heaven? +Peal rather there, where tender natures dwell. +Your messages I hear, but faith has not been given; +The dearest child of Faith is Miracle. +I venture not to soar to yonder regions +Whence the glad tidings hither float; +And yet, from childhood up familiar with the note, +To Life it now renews the old allegiance. +Once Heavenly Love sent down a burning kiss +Upon my brow, in Sabbath silence holy; +And, filled with mystic presage, chimed the church-bell slowly, +And prayer dissolved me in a fervent bliss. +A sweet, uncomprehended yearning +Drove forth my feet through woods and meadows free, +And while a thousand tears were burning, +I felt a world arise for me. +These chants, to youth and all its sports appealing, +Proclaimed the Spring's rejoicing holiday; +And Memory holds me now, with childish feeling, +Back from the last, the solemn way. +Sound on, ye hymns of Heaven, so sweet and mild! +My tears gush forth: the Earth takes back her child! + + +CHORUS OF DISCIPLES + + Has He, victoriously, + Burst from the vaulted + Grave, and all-gloriously + Now sits exalted? + Is He, in glow of birth, + Rapture creative near? + Ah! to the woe of earth + Still are we native here. + We, his aspiring + Followers, Him we miss; + Weeping, desiring, + Master, Thy bliss! + +CHORUS OF ANGELS + + Christ is arisen, + Out of Corruption's womb: + Burst ye the prison, + Break from your gloom! + Praising and pleading him, + Lovingly needing him, + Brotherly feeding him, + Preaching and speeding him, + Blessing, succeeding Him, + Thus is the Master near,-- + Thus is He here! +[Illustration] + + + + +II + +BEFORE THE CITY-GATE + +(_Pedestrians of all kinds come forth_.) + + +SEVERAL APPRENTICES + +Why do you go that way? + + +OTHERS + +We're for the Hunters' lodge, to-day. + + +THE FIRST + +We'll saunter to the Mill, in yonder hollow. + + +AN APPRENTICE + +Go to the River Tavern, I should say. + + +SECOND APPRENTICE + +But then, it's not a pleasant way. + + +THE OTHERS + +And what will _you_? + +A THIRD + + As goes the crowd, I follow. + + +A FOURTH + +Come up to Burgdorf? There you'll find good cheer, +The finest lasses and the best of beer, +And jolly rows and squabbles, trust me! + + +A FIFTH + +You swaggering fellow, is your hide +A third time itching to be tried? +I won't go there, your jolly rows disgust me! + + +SERVANT-GIRL + +No,--no! I'll turn and go to town again. + + +ANOTHER + +We'll surely find him by those poplars yonder. + + +THE FIRST + +That's no great luck for me, 'tis plain. +You'll have him, when and where you wander: +His partner in the dance you'll be,-- +But what is all your fun to me? + + +THE OTHER + +He's surely not alone to-day: +He'll be with Curly-head, I heard him say. + + +A STUDENT + +Deuce! how they step, the buxom wenches! +Come, Brother! we must see them to the benches. +A strong, old beer, a pipe that stings and bites, +A girl in Sunday clothes,--these three are my delights. + + +CITIZEN'S DAUGHTER + +Just see those handsome fellows, there! +It's really shameful, I declare;-- +To follow servant-girls, when they +Might have the most genteel society to-day! + + +SECOND STUDENT (_to the First_) + +Not quite so fast! Two others come behind,-- +Those, dressed so prettily and neatly. +My neighbor's one of them, I find, +A girl that takes my heart, completely. +They go their way with looks demure, +But they'll accept us, after all, I'm sure. + + +THE FIRST + +No, Brother! not for me their formal ways. +Quick! lest our game escape us in the press: +The hand that wields the broom on Saturdays +Will best, on Sundays, fondle and caress. + + +CITIZEN + +He suits me not at all, our new-made Burgomaster! +Since he's installed, his arrogance grows faster. +How has he helped the town, I say? +Things worsen,--what improvement names he? +Obedience, more than ever, claims he, +And more than ever we must pay! + + +BEGGAR (_sings_) + + Good gentlemen and lovely ladies, + So red of cheek and fine of dress, + Behold, how needful here your aid is, + And see and lighten my distress! + Let me not vainly sing my ditty; + He's only glad who gives away: + A holiday, that shows your pity, + Shall be for me a harvest-day! + + +ANOTHER CITIZEN + +On Sundays, holidays, there's naught I take delight in, +Like gossiping of war, and war's array, +When down in Turkey, far away, +The foreign people are a-fighting. +One at the window sits, with glass and friends, +And sees all sorts of ships go down the river gliding: +And blesses then, as home he wends +At night, our times of peace abiding. + + +THIRD CITIZEN + +Yes, Neighbor! that's my notion, too: +Why, let them break their heads, let loose their passions, +And mix things madly through and through, +So, here, we keep our good old fashions! + + +OLD WOMAN (_to the Citizen's Daughter_) + +Dear me, how fine! So handsome, and so young! +Who wouldn't lose his heart, that met you? +Don't be so proud! I'll hold my tongue, +And what you'd like I'll undertake to get you. + + +CITIZEN'S DAUGHTER + +Come, Agatha! I shun the witch's sight +Before folks, lest there be misgiving: +'Tis true, she showed me, on Saint Andrew's Night, +My future sweetheart, just as he were living. + + +THE OTHER + +She showed me mine, in crystal clear, +With several wild young blades, a soldier-lover: +I seek him everywhere, I pry and peer, +And yet, somehow, his face I can't discover. + +SOLDIERS + + Castles, with lofty + Ramparts and towers, + Maidens disdainful + In Beauty's array, + Both shall be ours! + Bold is the venture, + Splendid the pay! + Lads, let the trumpets + For us be suing,-- + Calling to pleasure, + Calling to ruin. + Stormy our life is; + Such is its boon! + Maidens and castles + Capitulate soon. + Bold is the venture, + Splendid the pay! + And the soldiers go marching, + Marching away! + + +FAUST AND WAGNER + + +FAUST + +Released from ice are brook and river +By the quickening glance of the gracious Spring; +The colors of hope to the valley cling, +And weak old Winter himself must shiver, +Withdrawn to the mountains, a crownless king: +Whence, ever retreating, he sends again +Impotent showers of sleet that darkle +In belts across the green o' the plain. +But the sun will permit no white to sparkle; +Everywhere form in development moveth; +He will brighten the world with the tints he loveth, +And, lacking blossoms, blue, yellow, and red, +He takes these gaudy people instead. +Turn thee about, and from this height +Back on the town direct thy sight. +Out of the hollow, gloomy gate, +The motley throngs come forth elate: +Each will the joy of the sunshine hoard, +To honor the Day of the Risen Lord! +They feel, themselves, their resurrection: +From the low, dark rooms, scarce habitable; +From the bonds of Work, from Trade's restriction; +From the pressing weight of roof and gable; +From the narrow, crushing streets and alleys; +From the churches' solemn and reverend night, +All come forth to the cheerful light. +How lively, see! the multitude sallies, +Scattering through gardens and fields remote, +While over the river, that broadly dallies, +Dances so many a festive boat; +And overladen, nigh to sinking, +The last full wherry takes the stream. +Yonder afar, from the hill-paths blinking, +Their clothes are colors that softly gleam. +I hear the noise of the village, even; +Here is the People's proper Heaven; +Here high and low contented see! +Here I am Man,--dare man to be! + + +WAGNER + +To stroll with you, Sir Doctor, flatters; +'Tis honor, profit, unto me. +But I, alone, would shun these shallow matters, +Since all that's coarse provokes my enmity. +This fiddling, shouting, ten-pin rolling +I hate,--these noises of the throng: +They rave, as Satan were their sports controlling. +And call it mirth, and call it song! + + +PEASANTS, UNDER THE LINDEN-TREE + (_Dance and Song_.) + + All for the dance the shepherd dressed, + In ribbons, wreath, and gayest vest + Himself with care arraying: + Around the linden lass and lad + Already footed it like mad: + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah--tarara-la! + The fiddle-bow was playing. + + He broke the ranks, no whit afraid, + And with his elbow punched a maid, + Who stood, the dance surveying: + The buxom wench, she turned and said: + "Now, you I call a stupid-head!" + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah--tarara-la! + "Be decent while you're staying!" + + Then round the circle went their flight, + They danced to left, they danced to right: + Their kirtles all were playing. + They first grew red, and then grew warm, + And rested, panting, arm in arm,-- + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah--tarara-la! + And hips and elbows straying. + + Now, don't be so familiar here! + How many a one has fooled his dear, + Waylaying and betraying! + + And yet, he coaxed her soon aside, + And round the linden sounded wide. + Hurrah! hurrah! + Hurrah--tarara-la! + And the fiddle-bow was playing. + +OLD PEASANT + +Sir Doctor, it is good of you, +That thus you condescend, to-day, +Among this crowd of merry folk, +A highly-learned man, to stray. +Then also take the finest can, +We fill with fresh wine, for your sake: +I offer it, and humbly wish +That not alone your thirst is slake,-- +That, as the drops below its brink, +So many days of life you drink! + + +FAUST + +I take the cup you kindly reach, +With thanks and health to all and each. + +(_The People gather in a circle about him_.) + + +OLD PEASANT + +In truth, 'tis well and fitly timed, +That now our day of joy you share, +Who heretofore, in evil days, +Gave us so much of helping care. +Still many a man stands living here, +Saved by your father's skillful hand, +That snatched him from the fever's rage +And stayed the plague in all the land. +Then also you, though but a youth, +Went into every house of pain: +Many the corpses carried forth, +But you in health came out again. + +FAUST + +No test or trial you evaded: +A Helping God the helper aided. + +ALL + +Health to the man, so skilled and tried. +That for our help he long may abide! + +FAUST + +To Him above bow down, my friends, +Who teaches help, and succor sends! + +(_He goes on with_ WAGNER.) + +WAGNER + +With what a feeling, thou great man, must thou +Receive the people's honest veneration! +How lucky he, whose gifts his station +With such advantages endow! +Thou'rt shown to all the younger generation: +Each asks, and presses near to gaze; +The fiddle stops, the dance delays. +Thou goest, they stand in rows to see, +And all the caps are lifted high; +A little more, and they would bend the knee +As if the Holy Host came by. + +FAUST + +A few more steps ascend, as far as yonder stone!-- +Here from our wandering will we rest contented. +Here, lost in thought, I've lingered oft alone, +When foolish fasts and prayers my life tormented. +Here, rich in hope and firm in faith, +With tears, wrung hands and sighs, I've striven, +The end of that far-spreading death +Entreating from the Lord of Heaven! +Now like contempt the crowd's applauses seem: +Couldst thou but read, within mine inmost spirit, +How little now I deem, +That sire or son such praises merit! +My father's was a sombre, brooding brain, +Which through the holy spheres of Nature groped and wandered, +And honestly, in his own fashion, pondered +With labor whimsical, and pain: +Who, in his dusky work-shop bending, +With proved adepts in company, +Made, from his recipes unending, +Opposing substances agree. +There was a Lion red, a wooer daring, +Within the Lily's tepid bath espoused, +And both, tormented then by flame unsparing, +By turns in either bridal chamber housed. +If then appeared, with colors splendid, +The young Queen in her crystal shell, +This was the medicine--the patients' woes soon ended, +And none demanded: who got well? +Thus we, our hellish boluses compounding, +Among these vales and hills surrounding, +Worse than the pestilence, have passed. +Thousands were done to death from poison of my giving; +And I must hear, by all the living, +The shameless murderers praised at last! + +WAGNER + +Why, therefore, yield to such depression? +A good man does his honest share +In exercising, with the strictest care, +The art bequeathed to his possession! +Dost thou thy father honor, as a youth? +Then may his teaching cheerfully impel thee: +Dost thou, as man, increase the stores of truth? +Then may thine own son afterwards excel thee. + +FAUST + +O happy he, who still renews +The hope, from Error's deeps to rise forever! +That which one does not know, one needs to use; +And what one knows, one uses never. +But let us not, by such despondence, so +The fortune of this hour embitter! +Mark how, beneath the evening sunlight's glow, +The green-embosomed houses glitter! +The glow retreats, done is the day of toil; +It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring; +Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil, +Upon its track to follow, follow soaring! +Then would I see eternal Evening gild +The silent world beneath me glowing, +On fire each mountain-peak, with peace each valley filled, +The silver brook to golden rivers flowing. +The mountain-chain, with all its gorges deep, +Would then no more impede my godlike motion; +And now before mine eyes expands the ocean +With all its bays, in shining sleep! +Yet, finally, the weary god is sinking; +The new-born impulse fires my mind,-- +I hasten on, his beams eternal drinking, +The Day before me and the Night behind, +Above me heaven unfurled, the floor of waves beneath me,-- +A glorious dream! though now the glories fade. +Alas! the wings that lift the mind no aid +Of wings to lift the body can bequeath me. +Yet in each soul is born the pleasure +Of yearning onward, upward and away, +When o'er our heads, lost in the vaulted azure, +The lark sends down his flickering lay,-- +When over crags and piny highlands +The poising eagle slowly soars, +And over plains and lakes and islands +The crane sails by to other shores. + +WAGNER + +I've had, myself, at times, some odd caprices, +But never yet such impulse felt, as this is. +One soon fatigues, on woods and fields to look, +Nor would I beg the bird his wing to spare us: +How otherwise the mental raptures bear us +From page to page, from book to book! +Then winter nights take loveliness untold, +As warmer life in every limb had crowned you; +And when your hands unroll some parchment rare and old, +All Heaven descends, and opens bright around you! + +FAUST + +One impulse art thou conscious of, at best; +O, never seek to know the other! +Two souls, alas! reside within my breast, +And each withdraws from, and repels, its brother. +One with tenacious organs holds in love +And clinging lust the world in its embraces; +The other strongly sweeps, this dust above, +Into the high ancestral spaces. +If there be airy spirits near, +'Twixt Heaven and Earth on potent errands fleeing, +Let them drop down the golden atmosphere, +And bear me forth to new and varied being! +Yea, if a magic mantle once were mine, +To waft me o'er the world at pleasure, +I would not for the costliest stores of treasure-- +Not for a monarch's robe--the gift resign. + +WAGNER + +Invoke not thus the well-known throng, +Which through the firmament diffused is faring, +And danger thousand-fold, our race to wrong. +In every quarter is preparing. +Swift from the North the spirit-fangs so sharp +Sweep down, and with their barbed points assail you; +Then from the East they come, to dry and warp +Your lungs, till breath and being fail you: +If from the Desert sendeth them the South, +With fire on fire your throbbing forehead crowning, +The West leads on a host, to cure the drouth +Only when meadow, field, and you are drowning. +They gladly hearken, prompt for injury,-- +Gladly obey, because they gladly cheat us; +From Heaven they represent themselves to be, +And lisp like angels, when with lies they meet us. +But, let us go! 'Tis gray and dusky all: +The air is cold, the vapors fall. +At night, one learns his house to prize:-- +Why stand you thus, with such astonished eyes? +What, in the twilight, can your mind so trouble? + +FAUST + +Seest thou the black dog coursing there, through corn and +stubble? + +WAGNER + +Long since: yet deemed him not important in the least. + +FAUST + +Inspect him close: for what tak'st thou the beast? + +WAGNER + +Why, for a poodle who has lost his master, +And scents about, his track to find. + +FAUST + +Seest thou the spiral circles, narrowing faster, +Which he, approaching, round us seems to wind? +A streaming trail of fire, if I see rightly, +Follows his path of mystery. + +WAGNER + +It may be that your eyes deceive you slightly; +Naught but a plain black poodle do I see. + +FAUST + +It seems to me that with enchanted cunning +He snares our feet, some future chain to bind. + +WAGNER + +I see him timidly, in doubt, around us running, +Since, in his master's stead, two strangers doth he find. + +FAUST + +The circle narrows: he is near! + +WAGNER + +A dog thou seest, and not a phantom, here! +Behold him stop--upon his belly crawl--His +tail set wagging: canine habits, all! + +FAUST + +Come, follow us! Come here, at least! + +WAGNER + +'Tis the absurdest, drollest beast. +Stand still, and you will see him wait; +Address him, and he gambols straight; +If something's lost, he'll quickly bring it,-- +Your cane, if in the stream you fling it. + +FAUST + +No doubt you're right: no trace of mind, I own, +Is in the beast: I see but drill, alone. + +WAGNER + +The dog, when he's well educated, +Is by the wisest tolerated. +Yes, he deserves your favor thoroughly,-- +The clever scholar of the students, he! + +(_They pass in the city-gate_.) + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +III + + +THE STUDY + +FAUST + +(_Entering, with the poodle_.) + + Behind me, field and meadow sleeping, + I leave in deep, prophetic night, + Within whose dread and holy keeping + The better soul awakes to light. + The wild desires no longer win us, + The deeds of passion cease to chain; + The love of Man revives within us, + The love of God revives again. + +Be still, thou poodle; make not such racket and riot! +Why at the threshold wilt snuffing be? +Behind the stove repose thee in quiet! +My softest cushion I give to thee. +As thou, up yonder, with running and leaping +Amused us hast, on the mountain's crest, + +So now I take thee into my keeping, +A welcome, but also a silent, guest. + + Ah, when, within our narrow chamber + The lamp with friendly lustre glows, + Flames in the breast each faded ember, + And in the heart, itself that knows. + Then Hope again lends sweet assistance, + And Reason then resumes her speech: + One yearns, the rivers of existence, + The very founts of Life, to reach. + +Snarl not, poodle! To the sound that rises, +The sacred tones that my soul embrace, +This bestial noise is out of place. +We are used to see, that Man despises +What he never comprehends, +And the Good and the Beautiful vilipends, +Finding them often hard to measure: +Will the dog, like man, snarl _his_ displeasure? + +But ah! I feel, though will thereto be stronger, +Contentment flows from out my breast no longer. +Why must the stream so soon run dry and fail us, +And burning thirst again assail us? +Therein I've borne so much probation! +And yet, this want may be supplied us; +We call the Supernatural to guide us; +We pine and thirst for Revelation, +Which nowhere worthier is, more nobly sent, +Than here, in our New Testament. +I feel impelled, its meaning to determine,-- +With honest purpose, once for all, +The hallowed Original +To change to my beloved German. + +(_He opens a volume, and commences_.) +'Tis written: "In the Beginning was the _Word_." +Here am I balked: who, now can help afford? +The _Word?_--impossible so high to rate it; +And otherwise must I translate it. +If by the Spirit I am truly taught. +Then thus: "In the Beginning was the _Thought_" +This first line let me weigh completely, +Lest my impatient pen proceed too fleetly. +Is it the _Thought_ which works, creates, indeed? +"In the Beginning was the _Power,"_ I read. +Yet, as I write, a warning is suggested, +That I the sense may not have fairly tested. +The Spirit aids me: now I see the light! +"In the Beginning was the _Act_," I write. + +If I must share my chamber with thee, +Poodle, stop that howling, prithee! +Cease to bark and bellow! +Such a noisy, disturbing fellow +I'll no longer suffer near me. +One of us, dost hear me! +Must leave, I fear me. +No longer guest-right I bestow; +The door is open, art free to go. +But what do I see in the creature? +Is that in the course of nature? +Is't actual fact? or Fancy's shows? +How long and broad my poodle grows! +He rises mightily: +A canine form that cannot be! +What a spectre I've harbored thus! +He resembles a hippopotamus, +With fiery eyes, teeth terrible to see: +O, now am I sure of thee! +For all of thy half-hellish brood +The Key of Solomon is good. + +SPIRITS (_in the corridor_) + + Some one, within, is caught! + Stay without, follow him not! + Like the fox in a snare, + Quakes the old hell-lynx there. + Take heed--look about! + Back and forth hover, + Under and over, + And he'll work himself out. + If your aid avail him, + Let it not fail him; + For he, without measure, + Has wrought for our pleasure. + +FAUST + +First, to encounter the beast, +The Words of the Four be addressed: + Salamander, shine glorious! + Wave, Undine, as bidden! + Sylph, be thou hidden! + Gnome, be laborious! + +Who knows not their sense +(These elements),-- +Their properties +And power not sees,-- +No mastery he inherits +Over the Spirits. + + Vanish in flaming ether, + Salamander! + Flow foamingly together, + Undine! + Shine in meteor-sheen, + Sylph! + Bring help to hearth and shelf. + Incubus! Incubus! + Step forward, and finish thus! + +Of the Four, no feature +Lurks in the creature. +Quiet he lies, and grins disdain: +Not yet, it seems, have I given him pain. +Now, to undisguise thee, +Hear me exorcise thee! +Art thou, my gay one, +Hell's fugitive stray-one? +The sign witness now, +Before which they bow, +The cohorts of Hell! + +With hair all bristling, it begins to swell. + + Base Being, hearest thou? + Knowest and fearest thou + The One, unoriginate, + Named inexpressibly, + Through all Heaven impermeate, + Pierced irredressibly! + +Behind the stove still banned, +See it, an elephant, expand! +It fills the space entire, +Mist-like melting, ever faster. +'Tis enough: ascend no higher,-- +Lay thyself at the feet of the Master! +Thou seest, not vain the threats I bring thee: +With holy fire I'll scorch and sting thee! +Wait not to know +The threefold dazzling glow! +Wait not to know +The strongest art within my hands! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_while the vapor is dissipating, steps forth from behind the +stove, in the costume of a Travelling Scholar_.) +Why such a noise? What are my lord's commands? + +FAUST + +This was the poodle's real core, +A travelling scholar, then? The _casus_ is diverting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The learned gentleman I bow before: +You've made me roundly sweat, that's certain! + +FAUST + +What is thy name? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A question small, it seems, +For one whose mind the Word so much despises; +Who, scorning all external gleams, +The depths of being only prizes. + +FAUST + +With all you gentlemen, the name's a test, +Whereby the nature usually is expressed. +Clearly the latter it implies +In names like Beelzebub, Destroyer, Father of Lies. +Who art thou, then? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Part of that Power, not understood, +Which always wills the Bad, and always works the Good. + +FAUST + +What hidden sense in this enigma lies? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I am the Spirit that Denies! +And justly so: for all things, from the Void +Called forth, deserve to be destroyed: +'Twere better, then, were naught created. +Thus, all which you as Sin have rated,-- +Destruction,--aught with Evil blent,-- +That is my proper element. + +FAUST + +Thou nam'st thyself a part, yet show'st complete to me? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The modest truth I speak to thee. +If Man, that microcosmic fool, can see +Himself a whole so frequently, +Part of the Part am I, once All, in primal Night,-- +Part of the Darkness which brought forth the Light, +The haughty Light, which now disputes the space, +And claims of Mother Night her ancient place. +And yet, the struggle fails; since Light, howe'er it weaves, +Still, fettered, unto bodies cleaves: +It flows from bodies, bodies beautifies; +By bodies is its course impeded; +And so, but little time is needed, +I hope, ere, as the bodies die, it dies! + +FAUST + +I see the plan thou art pursuing: +Thou canst not compass general ruin, +And hast on smaller scale begun. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And truly 'tis not much, when all is done. +That which to Naught is in resistance set,-- +The Something of this clumsy world,--has yet, +With all that I have undertaken, +Not been by me disturbed or shaken: +From earthquake, tempest, wave, volcano's brand, +Back into quiet settle sea and land! +And that damned stuff, the bestial, human brood,-- +What use, in having that to play with? +How many have I made away with! +And ever circulates a newer, fresher blood. +It makes me furious, such things beholding: +From Water, Earth, and Air unfolding, +A thousand germs break forth and grow, +In dry, and wet, and warm, and chilly; +And had I not the Flame reserved, why, really, +There's nothing special of my own to show! + +FAUST + +So, to the actively eternal +Creative force, in cold disdain +You now oppose the fist infernal, +Whose wicked clench is all in vain! +Some other labor seek thou rather, +Queer Son of Chaos, to begin! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Well, we'll consider: thou canst gather +My views, when next I venture in. +Might I, perhaps, depart at present? + +FAUST + +Why thou shouldst ask, I don't perceive. +Though our acquaintance is so recent, +For further visits thou hast leave. +The window's here, the door is yonder; +A chimney, also, you behold. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I must confess that forth I may not wander, +My steps by one slight obstacle controlled,-- +The wizard's-foot, that on your threshold made is. + +FAUST + +The pentagram prohibits thee? +Why, tell me now, thou Son of Hades, +If that prevents, how cam'st thou in to me? +Could such a spirit be so cheated? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Inspect the thing: the drawing's not completed. +The outer angle, you may see, +Is open left--the lines don't fit it. + +FAUST + +Well,--Chance, this time, has fairly hit it! +And thus, thou'rt prisoner to me? +It seems the business has succeeded. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The poodle naught remarked, as after thee he speeded; +But other aspects now obtain: +The Devil can't get out again. + +FAUST + +Try, then, the open window-pane! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +For Devils and for spectres this is law: +Where they have entered in, there also they withdraw. +The first is free to us; we're governed by the second. + +FAUST + +In Hell itself, then, laws are reckoned? +That's well! So might a compact be +Made with you gentlemen--and binding,--surely? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +All that is promised shall delight thee purely; +No skinflint bargain shalt thou see. +But this is not of swift conclusion; +We'll talk about the matter soon. +And now, I do entreat this boon-- +Leave to withdraw from my intrusion. + +FAUST + +One moment more I ask thee to remain, +Some pleasant news, at least, to tell me. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Release me, now! I soon shall come again; +Then thou, at will, mayst question and compel me. + +FAUST + +I have not snares around thee cast; +Thyself hast led thyself into the meshes. +Who traps the Devil, hold him fast! +Not soon a second time he'll catch a prey so precious. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +An't please thee, also I'm content to stay, +And serve thee in a social station; +But stipulating, that I may +With arts of mine afford thee recreation. + +FAUST + +Thereto I willingly agree, +If the diversion pleasant be. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My friend, thou'lt win, past all pretences, +More in this hour to soothe thy senses, +Than in the year's monotony. +That which the dainty spirits sing thee, +The lovely pictures they shall bring thee, +Are more than magic's empty show. +Thy scent will be to bliss invited; +Thy palate then with taste delighted, +Thy nerves of touch ecstatic glow! +All unprepared, the charm I spin: +We're here together, so begin! + +SPIRITS + + Vanish, ye darking + Arches above him! + Loveliest weather, + Born of blue ether, + Break from the sky! + O that the darkling + Clouds had departed! + Starlight is sparkling, + Tranquiller-hearted + Suns are on high. + Heaven's own children + In beauty bewildering, + Waveringly bending, + Pass as they hover; + Longing unending + Follows them over. + They, with their glowing + Garments, out-flowing, + Cover, in going, + Landscape and bower, + Where, in seclusion, + Lovers are plighted, + Lost in illusion. + Bower on bower! + Tendrils unblighted! + Lo! in a shower + Grapes that o'ercluster + Gush into must, or + Flow into rivers + Of foaming and flashing + Wine, that is dashing + Gems, as it boundeth + Down the high places, + And spreading, surroundeth + With crystalline spaces, + In happy embraces, + Blossoming forelands, + Emerald shore-lands! + And the winged races + Drink, and fly onward-- + Fly ever sunward + To the enticing + Islands, that flatter, + Dipping and rising + Light on the water! + Hark, the inspiring + Sound of their quiring! + See, the entrancing + Whirl of their dancing! + All in the air are + Freer and fairer. + Some of them scaling + Boldly the highlands, + Others are sailing, + Circling the islands; + Others are flying; + Life-ward all hieing,-- + All for the distant + Star of existent + Rapture and Love! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +He sleeps! Enough, ye fays! your airy number +Have sung him truly into slumber: +For this performance I your debtor prove.-- +Not yet art thou the man, to catch the Fiend and hold him!-- +With fairest images of dreams infold him, +Plunge him in seas of sweet untruth! +Yet, for the threshold's magic which controlled him, +The Devil needs a rat's quick tooth. +I use no lengthened invocation: +Here rustles one that soon will work my liberation. + +The lord of rats and eke of mice, +Of flies and bed-bugs, frogs and lice, +Summons thee hither to the door-sill, +To gnaw it where, with just a morsel +Of oil, he paints the spot for thee:-- +There com'st thou, hopping on to me! +To work, at once! The point which made me craven +Is forward, on the ledge, engraven. +Another bite makes free the door: +So, dream thy dreams, O Faust, until we meet once more! + +FAUST _(awaking)_ + +Am I again so foully cheated? +Remains there naught of lofty spirit-sway, +But that a dream the Devil counterfeited, +And that a poodle ran away? + +[Illustration] + + + + +IV + + +THE STUDY + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +A knock? Come in! Again my quiet broken? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +'Tis I! + +FAUST + + Come in! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Thrice must the words be spoken. + +FAUST + +Come in, then! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Thus thou pleasest me. +I hope we'll suit each other well; +For now, thy vapors to dispel, +I come, a squire of high degree, +In scarlet coat, with golden trimming, +A cloak in silken lustre swimming, +A tall cock's-feather in my hat, +A long, sharp sword for show or quarrel,-- +And I advise thee, brief and flat, +To don the self-same gay apparel, +That, from this den released, and free, +Life be at last revealed to thee! + +FAUST + +This life of earth, whatever my attire, +Would pain me in its wonted fashion. +Too old am I to play with passion; +Too young, to be without desire. +What from the world have I to gain? +Thou shalt abstain--renounce--refrain! +Such is the everlasting song +That in the ears of all men rings,-- +That unrelieved, our whole life long, +Each hour, in passing, hoarsely sings. +In very terror I at morn awake, +Upon the verge of bitter weeping, +To see the day of disappointment break, +To no one hope of mine--not one--its promise keeping:-- +That even each joy's presentiment +With wilful cavil would diminish, +With grinning masks of life prevent +My mind its fairest work to finish! +Then, too, when night descends, how anxiously +Upon my couch of sleep I lay me: +There, also, comes no rest to me, +But some wild dream is sent to fray me. +The God that in my breast is owned +Can deeply stir the inner sources; +The God, above my powers enthroned, +He cannot change external forces. +So, by the burden of my days oppressed, +Death is desired, and Life a thing unblest! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And yet is never Death a wholly welcome guest. + +FAUST + +O fortunate, for whom, when victory glances, +The bloody laurels on the brow he bindeth! +Whom, after rapid, maddening dances, +In clasping maiden-arms he findeth! +O would that I, before that spirit-power, +Ravished and rapt from life, had sunken! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And yet, by some one, in that nightly hour, +A certain liquid was not drunken. + +FAUST + +Eavesdropping, ha! thy pleasure seems to be. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Omniscient am I not; yet much is known to me. + +FAUST + +Though some familiar tone, retrieving +My thoughts from torment, led me on, +And sweet, clear echoes came, deceiving +A faith bequeathed from Childhood's dawn, +Yet now I curse whate'er entices +And snares the soul with visions vain; +With dazzling cheats and dear devices +Confines it in this cave of pain! +Cursed be, at once, the high ambition +Wherewith the mind itself deludes! +Cursed be the glare of apparition +That on the finer sense intrudes! +Cursed be the lying dream's impression +Of name, and fame, and laurelled brow! +Cursed, all that flatters as possession, +As wife and child, as knave and plow! +Cursed Mammon be, when he with treasures +To restless action spurs our fate! +Cursed when, for soft, indulgent leisures, +He lays for us the pillows straight! +Cursed be the vine's transcendent nectar,-- +The highest favor Love lets fall! +Cursed, also, Hope!--cursed Faith, the spectre! +And cursed be Patience most of all! + +CHORUS OF SPIRITS (_invisible_) + + Woe! woe! + Thou hast it destroyed, + The beautiful world, + With powerful fist: + In ruin 'tis hurled, + By the blow of a demigod shattered! + The scattered + Fragments into the Void we carry, + Deploring + The beauty perished beyond restoring. + Mightier + For the children of men, + Brightlier + Build it again, + In thine own bosom build it anew! + Bid the new career + Commence, + With clearer sense, + And the new songs of cheer + Be sung thereto! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +These are the small dependants +Who give me attendance. +Hear them, to deeds and passion +Counsel in shrewd old-fashion! +Into the world of strife, +Out of this lonely life +That of senses and sap has betrayed thee, +They would persuade thee. +This nursing of the pain forego thee, +That, like a vulture, feeds upon thy breast! +The worst society thou find'st will show thee +Thou art a man among the rest. +But 'tis not meant to thrust +Thee into the mob thou hatest! +I am not one of the greatest, +Yet, wilt thou to me entrust +Thy steps through life, I'll guide thee,-- +Will willingly walk beside thee,-- +Will serve thee at once and forever +With best endeavor, +And, if thou art satisfied, +Will as servant, slave, with thee abide. + +FAUST + +And what shall be my counter-service therefor? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The time is long: thou need'st not now insist. + +FAUST + +No--no! The Devil is an egotist, +And is not apt, without a why or wherefore, +"For God's sake," others to assist. +Speak thy conditions plain and clear! +With such a servant danger comes, I fear. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +_Here_, an unwearied slave, I'll wear thy tether, +And to thine every nod obedient be: +When _There_ again we come together, +Then shalt thou do the same for me. + +FAUST + +The _There_ my scruples naught increases. +When thou hast dashed this world to pieces, +The other, then, its place may fill. +Here, on this earth, my pleasures have their sources; +Yon sun beholds my sorrows in his courses; +And when from these my life itself divorces, +Let happen all that can or will! +I'll hear no more: 'tis vain to ponder +If there we cherish love or hate, +Or, in the spheres we dream of yonder, +A High and Low our souls await. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +In this sense, even, canst thou venture. +Come, bind thyself by prompt indenture, +And thou mine arts with joy shalt see: +What no man ever saw, I'll give to thee. + +FAUST + +Canst thou, poor Devil, give me whatsoever? +When was a human soul, in its supreme endeavor, +E'er understood by such as thou? +Yet, hast thou food which never satiates, now,-- +The restless, ruddy gold hast thou, +That runs, quicksilver-like, one's fingers through,-- +A game whose winnings no man ever knew,-- +A maid that, even from my breast, +Beckons my neighbor with her wanton glances, +And Honor's godlike zest, +The meteor that a moment dances,-- +Show me the fruits that, ere they're gathered, rot, +And trees that daily with new leafage clothe them! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Such a demand alarms me not: +Such treasures have I, and can show them. +But still the time may reach us, good my friend. +When peace we crave and more luxurious diet. + +FAUST + +When on an idler's bed I stretch myself in quiet. +There let, at once, my record end! +Canst thou with lying flattery rule me, +Until, self-pleased, myself I see,-- +Canst thou with rich enjoyment fool me, +Let that day be the last for me! +The bet I offer. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + Done! + +FAUST + And heartily! +When thus I hail the Moment flying: +"Ah, still delay--thou art so fair!" +Then bind me in thy bonds undying, +My final ruin then declare! +Then let the death-bell chime the token. +Then art thou from thy service free! +The clock may stop, the hand be broken, +Then Time be finished unto me! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Consider well: my memory good is rated. + +FAUST + +Thou hast a perfect right thereto. +My powers I have not rashly estimated: +A slave am I, whate'er I do-- +If thine, or whose? 'tis needless to debate it. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then at the Doctors'-banquet I, to-day, +Will as a servant wait behind thee. +But one thing more! Beyond all risk to bind thee, +Give me a line or two, I pray. + +FAUST + +Demand'st thou, Pedant, too, a document? +Hast never known a man, nor proved his word's intent? +Is't not enough, that what I speak to-day +Shall stand, with all my future days agreeing? +In all its tides sweeps not the world away, +And shall a promise bind my being? +Yet this delusion in our hearts we bear: +Who would himself therefrom deliver? +Blest he, whose bosom Truth makes pure and fair! +No sacrifice shall he repent of ever. +Nathless a parchment, writ and stamped with care, +A spectre is, which all to shun endeavor. +The word, alas! dies even in the pen, +And wax and leather keep the lordship then. +What wilt from me, Base Spirit, say?-- +Brass, marble, parchment, paper, clay? +The terms with graver, quill, or chisel, stated? +I freely leave the choice to thee. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why heat thyself, thus instantly, +With eloquence exaggerated? +Each leaf for such a pact is good; +And to subscribe thy name thou'lt take a drop of blood. + +FAUST + +If thou therewith art fully satisfied, +So let us by the farce abide. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Blood is a juice of rarest quality. + +FAUST + +Fear not that I this pact shall seek to sever? +The promise that I make to thee +Is just the sum of my endeavor. +I have myself inflated all too high; +My proper place is thy estate: +The Mighty Spirit deigns me no reply, +And Nature shuts on me her gate. +The thread of Thought at last is broken, +And knowledge brings disgust unspoken. +Let us the sensual deeps explore, +To quench the fervors of glowing passion! +Let every marvel take form and fashion +Through the impervious veil it wore! +Plunge we in Time's tumultuous dance, +In the rush and roll of Circumstance! +Then may delight and distress, +And worry and success, +Alternately follow, as best they can: +Restless activity proves the man! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +For you no bound, no term is set. +Whether you everywhere be trying, +Or snatch a rapid bliss in flying, +May it agree with you, what you get! +Only fall to, and show no timid balking. + +FAUST + +But thou hast heard, 'tis not of joy we're talking. +I take the wildering whirl, enjoyment's keenest pain, +Enamored hate, exhilarant disdain. +My bosom, of its thirst for knowledge sated, +Shall not, henceforth, from any pang be wrested, +And all of life for all mankind created +Shall be within mine inmost being tested: +The highest, lowest forms my soul shall borrow, +Shall heap upon itself their bliss and sorrow, +And thus, my own sole self to all their selves expanded, +I too, at last, shall with them all be stranded! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Believe me, who for many a thousand year +The same tough meat have chewed and tested, +That from the cradle to the bier +No man the ancient leaven has digested! +Trust one of us, this Whole supernal +Is made but for a God's delight! +_He_ dwells in splendor single and eternal, +But _us_ he thrusts in darkness, out of sight, +And _you_ he dowers with Day and Night. + +FAUST + +Nay, but I will! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A good reply! +One only fear still needs repeating: +The art is long, the time is fleeting. +Then let thyself be taught, say I! +Go, league thyself with a poet, +Give the rein to his imagination, +Then wear the crown, and show it, +Of the qualities of his creation,-- +The courage of the lion's breed, +The wild stag's speed, +The Italian's fiery blood, +The North's firm fortitude! +Let him find for thee the secret tether +That binds the Noble and Mean together. +And teach thy pulses of youth and pleasure +To love by rule, and hate by measure! +I'd like, myself, such a one to see: +Sir Microcosm his name should be. + +FAUST + +What am I, then, if 'tis denied my part +The crown of all humanity to win me, +Whereto yearns every sense within me? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why, on the whole, thou'rt--what thou art. +Set wigs of million curls upon thy head, to raise thee, +Wear shoes an ell in height,--the truth betrays thee, +And thou remainest--what thou art. + +FAUST + +I feel, indeed, that I have made the treasure +Of human thought and knowledge mine, in vain; +And if I now sit down in restful leisure, +No fount of newer strength is in my brain: +I am no hair's-breadth more in height, +Nor nearer, to the Infinite, + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Good Sir, you see the facts precisely +As they are seen by each and all. +We must arrange them now, more wisely, +Before the joys of life shall pall. +Why, Zounds! Both hands and feet are, truly-- +And head and virile forces--thine: +Yet all that I indulge in newly, +Is't thence less wholly mine? +If I've six stallions in my stall, +Are not their forces also lent me? +I speed along, completest man of all, +As though my legs were four-and-twenty. +Take hold, then! let reflection rest, +And plunge into the world with zest! +I say to thee, a speculative wight +Is like a beast on moorlands lean, +That round and round some fiend misleads to evil plight, +While all about lie pastures fresh and green. + +FAUST + +Then how shall we begin? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We'll try a wider sphere. +What place of martyrdom is here! +Is't life, I ask, is't even prudence, +To bore thyself and bore the students? +Let Neighbor Paunch to that attend! +Why plague thyself with threshing straw forever? +The best thou learnest, in the end +Thou dar'st not tell the youngsters--never! +I hear one's footsteps, hither steering. + +FAUST +To see him now I have no heart. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +So long the poor boy waits a hearing, +He must not unconsoled depart. +Thy cap and mantle straightway lend me! +I'll play the comedy with art. + +(_He disguises himself_.) + +My wits, be certain, will befriend me. +But fifteen minutes' time is all I need; +For our fine trip, meanwhile, prepare thyself with speed! + +[_Exit_ FAUST. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_In_ FAUST'S _long mantle_.) + +Reason and Knowledge only thou despise, +The highest strength in man that lies! +Let but the Lying Spirit bind thee +With magic works and shows that blind thee, +And I shall have thee fast and sure!-- +Fate such a bold, untrammelled spirit gave him, +As forwards, onwards, ever must endure; +Whose over-hasty impulse drave him +Past earthly joys he might secure. +Dragged through the wildest life, will I enslave him, +Through flat and stale indifference; +With struggling, chilling, checking, so deprave him +That, to his hot, insatiate sense, +The dream of drink shall mock, but never lave him: +Refreshment shall his lips in vain implore-- +Had he not made himself the Devil's, naught could save +him, +Still were he lost forevermore! + +(_A_ STUDENT _enters_.) + +STUDENT + +A short time, only, am I here, +And come, devoted and sincere, +To greet and know the man of fame, +Whom men to me with reverence name. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Your courtesy doth flatter me: +You see a man, as others be. +Have you, perchance, elsewhere begun? + +STUDENT + +Receive me now, I pray, as one +Who comes to you with courage good, +Somewhat of cash, and healthy blood: +My mother was hardly willing to let me; +But knowledge worth having I fain would get me. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then you have reached the right place now. + +STUDENT + +I'd like to leave it, I must avow; +I find these walls, these vaulted spaces +Are anything but pleasant places. +Tis all so cramped and close and mean; +One sees no tree, no glimpse of green, +And when the lecture-halls receive me, +Seeing, hearing, and thinking leave me. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +All that depends on habitude. +So from its mother's breasts a child +At first, reluctant, takes its food, +But soon to seek them is beguiled. +Thus, at the breasts of Wisdom clinging, +Thou'lt find each day a greater rapture bringing. + +STUDENT + +I'll hang thereon with joy, and freely drain them; +But tell me, pray, the proper means to gain them. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Explain, before you further speak, +The special faculty you seek. + +STUDENT + +I crave the highest erudition; +And fain would make my acquisition +All that there is in Earth and Heaven, +In Nature and in Science too. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Here is the genuine path for you; +Yet strict attention must be given. + +STUDENT + +Body and soul thereon I'll wreak; +Yet, truly, I've some inclination +On summer holidays to seek +A little freedom and recreation. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Use well your time! It flies so swiftly from us; +But time through order may be won, I promise. +So, Friend (my views to briefly sum), +First, the _collegium logicum_. +There will your mind be drilled and braced, +As if in Spanish boots 'twere laced, +And thus, to graver paces brought, +'Twill plod along the path of thought, +Instead of shooting here and there, +A will-o'-the-wisp in murky air. +Days will be spent to bid you know, +What once you did at a single blow, +Like eating and drinking, free and strong,-- +That one, two, three! thereto belong. +Truly the fabric of mental fleece +Resembles a weaver's masterpiece, +Where a thousand threads one treadle throws, +Where fly the shuttles hither and thither. +Unseen the threads are knit together. +And an infinite combination grows. +Then, the philosopher steps in +And shows, no otherwise it could have been: +The first was so, the second so, +Therefore the third and fourth are so; +Were not the first and second, then +The third and fourth had never been. +The scholars are everywhere believers, +But never succeed in being weavers. +He who would study organic existence, +First drives out the soul with rigid persistence; +Then the parts in his hand he may hold and class, +But the spiritual link is lost, alas! +_Encheiresin natures_, this Chemistry names, +Nor knows how herself she banters and blames! + +STUDENT + +I cannot understand you quite. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Your mind will shortly be set aright, +When you have learned, all things reducing, +To classify them for your using. + +STUDENT + +I feel as stupid, from all you've said, +As if a mill-wheel whirled in my head! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And after--first and foremost duty--Of +Metaphysics learn the use and beauty! +See that you most profoundly gain +What does not suit the human brain! +A splendid word to serve, you'll find +For what goes in--or won't go in--your mind. +But first, at least this half a year, +To order rigidly adhere; +Five hours a day, you understand, +And when the clock strikes, be on hand! +Prepare beforehand for your part +With paragraphs all got by heart, +So you can better watch, and look +That naught is said but what is in the book: +Yet in thy writing as unwearied be, +As did the Holy Ghost dictate to thee! + +STUDENT + +No need to tell me twice to do it! +I think, how useful 'tis to write; +For what one has, in black and white, +One carries home and then goes through it. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yet choose thyself a faculty! + +STUDENT + +I cannot reconcile myself to Jurisprudence. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Nor can I therefore greatly blame you students: +I know what science this has come to be. +All rights and laws are still transmitted +Like an eternal sickness of the race,-- +From generation unto generation fitted, +And shifted round from place to place. +Reason becomes a sham, Beneficence a worry: +Thou art a grandchild, therefore woe to thee! +The right born with us, ours in verity, +This to consider, there's, alas! no hurry. + +STUDENT + +My own disgust is strengthened by your speech: +O lucky he, whom you shall teach! +I've almost for Theology decided. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I should not wish to see you here misguided: +For, as regards this science, let me hint +'Tis very hard to shun the false direction; +There's so much secret poison lurking in 't, +So like the medicine, it baffles your detection. +Hear, therefore, one alone, for that is best, in sooth, +And simply take your master's words for truth. +On _words_ let your attention centre! +Then through the safest gate you'll enter +The temple-halls of Certainty. + +STUDENT + +Yet in the word must some idea be. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Of course! But only shun too over-sharp a tension, +For just where fails the comprehension, +A word steps promptly in as deputy. +With words 'tis excellent disputing; +Systems to words 'tis easy suiting; +On words 'tis excellent believing; +No word can ever lose a jot from thieving. + +STUDENT + +Pardon! With many questions I detain you. +Yet must I trouble you again. +Of Medicine I still would fain +Hear one strong word that might explain you. +Three years is but a little space. +And, God! who can the field embrace? +If one some index could be shown, +'Twere easier groping forward, truly. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_aside_) + +I'm tired enough of this dry tone,-- +Must play the Devil again, and fully. + +(_Aloud_) + +To grasp the spirit of Medicine is easy: +Learn of the great and little world your fill, +To let it go at last, so please ye, +Just as God will! +In vain that through the realms of science you may drift; +Each one learns only--just what learn he can: +Yet he who grasps the Moment's gift, +He is the proper man. +Well-made you are, 'tis not to be denied, +The rest a bold address will win you; +If you but in yourself confide, +At once confide all others in you. +To lead the women, learn the special feeling! +Their everlasting aches and groans, +In thousand tones, +Have all one source, one mode of healing; +And if your acts are half discreet, +You'll always have them at your feet. +A title first must draw and interest them, +And show that yours all other arts exceeds; +Then, as a greeting, you are free to touch and test them, +While, thus to do, for years another pleads. +You press and count the pulse's dances, +And then, with burning sidelong glances, +You clasp the swelling hips, to see +If tightly laced her corsets be. + +STUDENT + +That's better, now! The How and Where, one sees. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My worthy friend, gray are all theories, +And green alone Life's golden tree. + +STUDENT + +I swear to you, 'tis like a dream to me. +Might I again presume, with trust unbounded, +To hear your wisdom thoroughly expounded? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Most willingly, to what extent I may. + +STUDENT + +I cannot really go away: +Allow me that my album first I reach you,-- +Grant me this favor, I beseech you! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Assuredly. + +(_He writes, and returns the book_.) + +STUDENT (_reads_) + +_Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum_. +(_Closes the book with reverence, and withdraws_) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Follow the ancient text, and the snake thou wast ordered to trample! +With all thy likeness to God, thou'lt yet be a sorry example! + +(FAUST _enters_.) + +FAUST + +Now, whither shall we go? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +As best it pleases thee. +The little world, and then the great, we'll see. +With what delight, what profit winning, +Shalt thou sponge through the term beginning! + +FAUST + +Yet with the flowing beard I wear, +Both ease and grace will fail me there. +The attempt, indeed, were a futile strife; +I never could learn the ways of life. +I feel so small before others, and thence +Should always find embarrassments. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +My friend, thou soon shalt lose all such misgiving: +Be thou but self-possessed, thou hast the art of living! + +FAUST + +How shall we leave the house, and start? +Where hast thou servant, coach and horses? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We'll spread this cloak with proper art, +Then through the air direct our courses. +But only, on so bold a flight, +Be sure to have thy luggage light. +A little burning air, which I shall soon prepare us, +Above the earth will nimbly bear us, +And, if we're light, we'll travel swift and clear: +I gratulate thee on thy new career! + +[Illustration] + + + + +V + + +AUERBACH'S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG +CAROUSAL OF JOLLY COMPANIONS + +FROSCH + +I no one laughing? no one drinking? +I'll teach you how to grin, I'm thinking. +To-day you're like wet straw, so tame; +And usually you're all aflame. + +BRANDER + +Now that's your fault; from you we nothing see, +No beastliness and no stupidity. + +FROSCH + +(_Pours a glass of wine over_ BRANDER'S _head_.) +There's both together! + +BRANDER + +Twice a swine! + +FROSCH + +You wanted them: I've given you mine. + +SIEBEL + +Turn out who quarrels--out the door! +With open throat sing chorus, drink and roar! +Up! holla! ho! + +ALTMAYER + +Woe's me, the fearful bellow! +Bring cotton, quick! He's split my ears, that fellow. + +SIEBEL + +When the vault echoes to the song, +One first perceives the bass is deep and strong. + +FROSCH + +Well said! and out with him that takes the least offence! +_Ah, tara, lara da_! + +ALTMAYER + +_Ah, tara, lara, da_! + +FROSCH + +The throats are tuned, commence! +(_Sings_.) +_The dear old holy Roman realm, +How does it hold together_? + +BRANDER + +A nasty song! Fie! a political song-- +A most offensive song! Thank God, each morning, therefore, +That you have not the Roman realm to care for! +At least, I hold it so much gain for me, +That I nor Chancellor nor Kaiser be. +Yet also we must have a ruling head, I hope, +And so we'll choose ourselves a Pope. +You know the quality that can +Decide the choice, and elevate the man. + +FROSCH (_sings_) + + _Soar up, soar up, Dame Nightingale! + Ten thousand times my sweetheart hail!_ + +SIEBEL + +No, greet my sweetheart not! I tell you, I'll resent it. + +FROSCH + +My sweetheart greet and kiss! I dare you to prevent it! + + (_Sings_.) + + _Draw the latch! the darkness makes: + Draw the latch! the lover wakes. + Shut the latch! the morning breaks_. + +SIEBEL + +Yes, sing away, sing on, and praise, and brag of her! +I'll wait my proper time for laughter: +Me by the nose she led, and now she'll lead you after. +Her paramour should be an ugly gnome, +Where four roads cross, in wanton play to meet her: +An old he-goat, from Blocksberg coming home, +Should his good-night in lustful gallop bleat her! +A fellow made of genuine flesh and blood +Is for the wench a deal too good. +Greet her? Not I: unless, when meeting, +To smash her windows be a greeting! + +BRANDER (_pounding on the table_) + +Attention! Hearken now to me! +Confess, Sirs, I know how to live. +Enamored persons here have we, +And I, as suits their quality, +Must something fresh for their advantage give. +Take heed! 'Tis of the latest cut, my strain, +And all strike in at each refrain! + + (_He sings_.) + + There was a rat in the cellar-nest, + Whom fat and butter made smoother: + He had a paunch beneath his vest + Like that of Doctor Luther. + The cook laid poison cunningly, + And then as sore oppressed was he + As if he had love in his bosom. + + CHORUS (_shouting_) + + As if he had love in his bosom! + + BRANDER + + He ran around, he ran about, + His thirst in puddles laving; + He gnawed and scratched the house throughout. + But nothing cured his raving. + He whirled and jumped, with torment mad, + And soon enough the poor beast had, + As if he had love in his bosom. + + CHORUS + + As if he had love in his bosom! + + BRANDER + + And driven at last, in open day, + He ran into the kitchen, + Fell on the hearth, and squirming lay, + In the last convulsion twitching. + Then laughed the murderess in her glee: + "Ha! ha! he's at his last gasp," said she, + "As if he had love in his bosom!" + +CHORUS + + As if he had love in his bosom! + +SIEBEL + +How the dull fools enjoy the matter! +To me it is a proper art +Poison for such poor rats to scatter. + +BRANDER + +Perhaps you'll warmly take their part? + +ALTMAYER + +The bald-pate pot-belly I have noted: +Misfortune tames him by degrees; +For in the rat by poison bloated +His own most natural form he sees. + +FAUST AND MEPHISTOPHELES + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Before all else, I bring thee hither +Where boon companions meet together, +To let thee see how smooth life runs away. +Here, for the folk, each day's a holiday: +With little wit, and ease to suit them, +They whirl in narrow, circling trails, +Like kittens playing with their tails? +And if no headache persecute them, +So long the host may credit give, +They merrily and careless live. + +BRANDER + +The fact is easy to unravel, +Their air's so odd, they've just returned from travel: +A single hour they've not been here. + +FROSCH + +You've verily hit the truth! Leipzig to me is dear: +Paris in miniature, how it refines its people! + +SIEBEL + +Who are the strangers, should you guess? + +FROSCH + +Let me alone! I'll set them first to drinking, +And then, as one a child's tooth draws, with cleverness, +I'll worm their secret out, I'm thinking. +They're of a noble house, that's very clear: +Haughty and discontented they appear. + +BRANDER + +They're mountebanks, upon a revel. + +ALTMAYER + +Perhaps. + +FROSCH + +Look out, I'll smoke them now! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Not if he had them by the neck, I vow, +Would e'er these people scent the Devil! + +FAUST +Fair greeting, gentlemen! + +SIEBEL + +Our thanks: we give the same. +(_Murmurs, inspecting_ MEPHISTOPHELES _from the side_.) +In one foot is the fellow lame? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Is it permitted that we share your leisure? +In place of cheering drink, which one seeks vainly here, +Your company shall give us pleasure. + +ALTMAYER + +A most fastidious person you appear. + + +FROSCH + +No doubt 'twas late when you from Rippach started? +And supping there with Hans occasioned your delay? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We passed, without a call, to-day. +At our last interview, before we parted +Much of his cousins did he speak, entreating +That we should give to each his kindly greeting. + +(_He bows to_ FROSCH.) + +ALTMAYER (_aside_) + +You have it now! he understands. + +SIEBEL + +A knave sharp-set! + +FROSCH + +Just wait awhile: I'll have him yet. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +If I am right, we heard the sound +Of well-trained voices, singing chorus; +And truly, song must here rebound +Superbly from the arches o'er us. + +FROSCH + +Are you, perhaps, a virtuoso? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O no! my wish is great, my power is only so-so. + +ALTMAYER + +Give us a song! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +If you desire, a number. + +SIEBEL + +So that it be a bran-new strain! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We've just retraced our way from. Spain, +The lovely land of wine, and song, and slumber. + +(_Sings_.) + +There was a king once reigning, +Who had a big black flea-- + +FROSCH + +Hear, hear! A flea! D'ye rightly take the jest? +I call a flea a tidy guest. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_sings_) + + There was a king once reigning, + Who had a big black flea, + And loved him past explaining, + As his own son were he. + He called his man of stitches; + The tailor came straightway: + Here, measure the lad for breeches. + And measure his coat, I say! + +BRANDER + +But mind, allow the tailor no caprices: +Enjoin upon him, as his head is dear, +To most exactly measure, sew and shear, +So that the breeches have no creases! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + In silk and velvet gleaming + He now was wholly drest-- + Had a coat with ribbons streaming, + A cross upon his breast. + He had the first of stations, + A minister's star and name; + And also all his relations + Great lords at court became. + + And the lords and ladies of honor + Were plagued, awake and in bed; + The queen she got them upon her, + The maids were bitten and bled. + And they did not dare to brush them, + Or scratch them, day or night: + We crack them and we crush them, + At once, whene'er they bite. + + CHORUS (_shouting_) + + We crack them and we crush them, + At once, whene'er they bite! + +FROSCH +Bravo! bravo! that was fine. + +SIEBEL + +Every flea may it so befall! + +BRANDER + +Point your fingers and nip them all! + +ALTMAYER + +Hurrah for Freedom! Hurrah for wine! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I fain would drink with you, my glass to Freedom clinking, +If 'twere a better wine that here I see you drinking. + +SIEBEL + +Don't let us hear that speech again! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Did I not fear the landlord might complain, +I'd treat these worthy guests, with pleasure, +To some from out our cellar's treasure. + +SIEBEL + +Just treat, and let the landlord me arraign! + +FROSCH + +And if the wine be good, our praises shall be ample. +But do not give too very small a sample; +For, if its quality I decide, +With a good mouthful I must be supplied. + +ALTMAYER (_aside_) + +They're from the Rhine! I guessed as much, before. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Bring me a gimlet here! + +BRANDER + +What shall therewith be done? +You've not the casks already at the door? + +ALTMAYER + +Yonder, within the landlord's box of tools, there's one! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_takes the gimlet_) + +(_To_ FROSCH.) + +Now, give me of your taste some intimation. + +FROSCH + +How do you mean? Have you so many kinds? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The choice is free: make up your minds. + +ALTMAYER (_to_ FROSCH) + +Aha! you lick your chops, from sheer anticipation. + +FROSCH + +Good! if I have the choice, so let the wine be Rhenish! +Our Fatherland can best the sparkling cup replenish. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_boring a hole in the edge of the table, at the place where_ +FROSCH _sits_) + +Get me a little wax, to make the stoppers, quick! + +ALTMAYER + +Ah! I perceive a juggler's trick. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ BRANDER) + +And you? + +BRANDER + +Champagne shall be my wine, +And let it sparkle fresh and fine! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_bores: in the meantime one has made the wax stoppers, and +plugged the holes with them_.) + +BRANDER + +What's foreign one can't always keep quite clear of, +For good things, oft, are not so near; +A German can't endure the French to see or hear of, +Yet drinks their wines with hearty cheer. + +SIEBEL + +(_as_ MEPHISTOPHELES _approaches his seat_) +For me, I grant, sour wine is out of place; +Fill up my glass with sweetest, will you? + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_boring_) + +Tokay shall flow at once, to fill you! + +ALTMAYER + +No--look me, Sirs, straight in the face! +I see you have your fun at our expense. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O no! with gentlemen of such pretence, +That were to venture far, indeed. +Speak out, and make your choice with speed! +With what a vintage can I serve you? + +ALTMAYER + +With any--only satisfy our need. + +(_After the holes have been bored and plugged_) + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_with singular gestures_) + + Grapes the vine-stem bears, + Horns the he-goat wears! + The grapes are juicy, the vines are wood, + The wooden table gives wine as good! + Into the depths of Nature peer,-- + Only believe there's a miracle here! + +Now draw the stoppers, and drink your fill! + +ALL + +(_as they draw out the stoppers, and the wine which has been +desired flows into the glass of each)_ + +O beautiful fountain, that flows at will! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But have a care that you nothing spill! + +(_They drink repeatedly_.) + +ALL (_sing_) + + As 'twere five hundred hogs, we feel + So cannibalic jolly! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +See, now, the race is happy--it is free! + +FAUST + +To leave them is my inclination. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Take notice, first! their bestiality +Will make a brilliant demonstration. + +SIEBEL + +(_drinks carelessly: the wine spills upon the earth, and turns to +flame_) + +Help! Fire! Help! Hell-fire is sent! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_charming away the flame)_ + +Be quiet, friendly element! + +(_To the revellers_) + +A bit of purgatory 'twas for this time, merely. + +SIEBEL + +What mean you? Wait!--you'll pay for't dearly! +You'll know us, to your detriment. + +FROSCH + +Don't try that game a second time upon us! + +ALTMAYER + +I think we'd better send him packing quietly. + +SIEBEL + +What, Sir! you dare to make so free, +And play your hocus-pocus on us! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Be still, old wine-tub. + +SIEBEL + +Broomstick, you! +You face it out, impertinent and heady? + +BRANDER + +Just wait! a shower of blows is ready. + +ALTMAYER + +(_draws a stopper out of the table: fire flies in his face_.) +I burn! I burn! + +SIEBEL + +'Tis magic! Strike-- +The knave is outlawed! Cut him as you like! +(_They draw their knives, and rush upon_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_with solemn gestures_) + + False word and form of air, + Change place, and sense ensnare! + Be here--and there! + +(_They stand amazed and look at each other_.) + +ALTMAYER + +Where am I? What a lovely land! + +FROSCH + +Vines? Can I trust my eyes? + +SIEBEL + +And purple grapes at hand! + +BRANDER + +Here, over this green arbor bending, +See what a vine! what grapes depending! + +(_He takes_ SIEBEL _by the nose: the others do the same reciprocally, +and raise their knives_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_as above_) + +Loose, Error, from their eyes the band, +And how the Devil jests, be now enlightened! + +(_He disappears with_ FAUST: _the revellers start and separate_.) + +SIEBEL + +What happened? + +ALTMAYER + +How? + +FROSCH + +Was that your nose I tightened? + +BRANDER (_to_ SIEBEL) + +And yours that still I have in hand? + +ALTMAYER + +It was a blow that went through every limb! +Give me a chair! I sink! my senses swim. + +FROSCH + +But what has happened, tell me now? + +SIEBEL + +Where is he? If I catch the scoundrel hiding, +He shall not leave alive, I vow. + +ALTMAYER + +I saw him with these eyes upon a wine-cask riding +Out of the cellar-door, just now. +Still in my feet the fright like lead is weighing. +(_He turns towards the table_.) +Why! If the fount of wine should still be playing? + +SIEBEL + +'Twas all deceit, and lying, false design! + +FROSCH + +And yet it seemed as I were drinking wine. + +BRANDER + +But with the grapes how was it, pray? + +ALTMAYER + +Shall one believe no miracles, just say! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +VI + + +WITCHES' KITCHEN + +(_Upon a low hearth stands a great caldron, under which a fire +is burning. Various figures appear in the vapors which +rise from the caldron. An ape sits beside it, skims it, and +watches lest it boil over. The he-ape, with the young +ones, sits near and warms himself. Ceiling and walls are +covered with the most fantastic witch-implements_.) + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +These crazy signs of witches' craft repel me! +I shall recover, dost thou tell me, +Through this insane, chaotic play? +From an old hag shall I demand assistance? +And will her foul mess take away +Full thirty years from my existence? +Woe's me, canst thou naught better find! +Another baffled hope must be lamented: +Has Nature, then, and has a noble mind +Not any potent balsam yet invented? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Once more, my friend, thou talkest sensibly. +There is, to make thee young, a simpler mode and apter; +But in another book 'tis writ for thee, +And is a most eccentric chapter. + +FAUST + +Yet will I know it. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Good! the method is revealed +Without or gold or magic or physician. +Betake thyself to yonder field, +There hoe and dig, as thy condition; +Restrain thyself, thy sense and will +Within a narrow sphere to flourish; +With unmixed food thy body nourish; +Live with the ox as ox, and think it not a theft +That thou manur'st the acre which thou reapest;-- +That, trust me, is the best mode left, +Whereby for eighty years thy youth thou keepest! + +FAUST + +I am not used to that; I cannot stoop to try it-- +To take the spade in hand, and ply it. +The narrow being suits me not at all. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then to thine aid the witch must call. + +FAUST + +Wherefore the hag, and her alone? +Canst thou thyself not brew the potion? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That were a charming sport, I own: +I'd build a thousand bridges meanwhile, I've a notion. +Not Art and Science serve, alone; +Patience must in the work be shown. +Long is the calm brain active in creation; +Time, only, strengthens the fine fermentation. +And all, belonging thereunto, +Is rare and strange, howe'er you take it: +The Devil taught the thing, 'tis true, +And yet the Devil cannot make it. +(_Perceiving the Animals_) +See, what a delicate race they be! +That is the maid! the man is he! +(_To the Animals_) +It seems the mistress has gone away? + +THE ANIMALS + +Carousing, to-day! +Off and about, +By the chimney out! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What time takes she for dissipating? + +THE ANIMALS + +While we to warm our paws are waiting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +How findest thou the tender creatures? + +FAUST + +Absurder than I ever yet did see. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why, just such talk as this, for me, +Is that which has the most attractive features! + +(_To the Animals_) + +But tell me now, ye cursed puppets, +Why do ye stir the porridge so? + +THE ANIMALS + +We're cooking watery soup for beggars. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then a great public you can show. + +THE HE-APE + +(_comes up and fawns on_ MEPHISTOPHELES) + + O cast thou the dice! + Make me rich in a trice, + Let me win in good season! + Things are badly controlled, + And had I but gold, + So had I my reason. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +How would the ape be sure his luck enhances. +Could he but try the lottery's chances! + +(_In the meantime the young apes have been playing with a +large ball, which they now roll forward_.) + +THE HE-APE + + The world's the ball: + Doth rise and fall, + And roll incessant: + Like glass doth ring, + A hollow thing,-- + How soon will't spring, + And drop, quiescent? + Here bright it gleams, + Here brighter seems: + I live at present! + Dear son, I say, + Keep thou away! + Thy doom is spoken! + 'Tis made of clay, + And will be broken. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What means the sieve? + +THE HE-APE (_taking it down_) + + Wert thou the thief, + I'd know him and shame him. + +(_He runs to the_ SHE-APE, _and lets her look through it_.) + + Look through the sieve! + Know'st thou the thief, + And darest not name him? + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_approaching the fire)_ + +And what's this pot? + +HE-APE AND SHE-APE + + The fool knows it not! + He knows not the pot, + He knows not the kettle! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Impertinent beast! + +THE HE-APE + +Take the brush here, at least, +And sit down on the settle! + +(_He invites_ MEPHISTOPHELES _to sit down_.) + +FAUST + +(_who during all this time has been standing before a mirror, +now approaching and now retreating from it_) + +What do I see? What heavenly form revealed +Shows through the glass from Magic's fair dominions! +O lend me, Love, the swiftest of thy pinions, +And bear me to her beauteous field! +Ah, if I leave this spot with fond designing, +If I attempt to venture near, +Dim, as through gathering mist, her charms appear!-- +A woman's form, in beauty shining! +Can woman, then, so lovely be? +And must I find her body, there reclining, +Of all the heavens the bright epitome? +Can Earth with such a thing be mated? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Why, surely, if a God first plagues Himself six days, +Then, self-contented, _Bravo_! says, +Must something clever be created. +This time, thine eyes be satiate! +I'll yet detect thy sweetheart and ensnare her, +And blest is he, who has the lucky fate, +Some day, as bridegroom, home to bear her. + +(FAUST _gazes continually in the mirror_. MEPHISTOPHELES, +_stretching himself out on the settle, and playing with the +brush, continues to speak_.) + +So sit I, like the King upon his throne: +I hold the sceptre, here,--and lack the crown alone. + +THE ANIMALS + +(_who up to this time have been making all kinds of fantastic +movements together bring a crown to_ MEPHISTOPHELES +_with great noise_.) + + O be thou so good + With sweat and with blood + The crown to belime! + +(_They handle the crown awkwardly and break it into two +pieces, with which they spring around_.) + + 'Tis done, let it be! + We speak and we see, + We hear and we rhyme! + +FAUST (_before the mirror_) + +Woe's me! I fear to lose my wits. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_pointing to the Animals_) + +My own head, now, is really nigh to sinking. + +THE ANIMALS + + If lucky our hits, + And everything fits, + 'Tis thoughts, and we're thinking! + +FAUST (_as above_) + +My bosom burns with that sweet vision; +Let us, with speed, away from here! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_in the same attitude_) + +One must, at least, make this admission-- +They're poets, genuine and sincere. + +(_The caldron, which the_ SHE-APE _has up to this time neglected +to watch, begins to boil over: there ensues a great flame_, +_which blazes out the chimney. The_ WITCH _comes careering +down through the flame, with terrible cries_.) + +THE WITCH + + Ow! ow! ow! ow! + The damned beast--the cursed sow! + To leave the kettle, and singe the Frau! + Accursed fere! + +(_Perceiving_ FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) + + What is that here? + Who are you here? + What want you thus? + Who sneaks to us? + The fire-pain + Burn bone and brain! + +(_She plunges the skimming-ladle into the caldron, and scatters +flames towards_ FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, _and the Animals. +The Animals whimper_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_reversing the brush, which he has been holding in his hand, +and striding among the jars and glasses_) + + In two! in two! + There lies the brew! + There lies the glass! + The joke will pass, + As time, foul ass! + To the singing of thy crew. + +(_As the_ WITCH _starts back, full of wrath and horror_) + +Ha! know'st thou me? Abomination, thou! +Know'st thou, at last, thy Lord and Master? +What hinders me from smiting now +Thee and thy monkey-sprites with fell disaster? +Hast for the scarlet coat no reverence? +Dost recognize no more the tall cock's-feather? +Have I concealed this countenance?-- +Must tell my name, old face of leather? + +THE WITCH + +O pardon, Sir, the rough salute! +Yet I perceive no cloven foot; +And both your ravens, where are _they_ now? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +This time, I'll let thee 'scape the debt; +For since we two together met, +'Tis verily full many a day now. +Culture, which smooth the whole world licks, +Also unto the Devil sticks. +The days of that old Northern phantom now are over: +Where canst thou horns and tail and claws discover? +And, as regards the foot, which I can't spare, in truth, +'Twould only make the people shun me; +Therefore I've worn, like many a spindly youth, +False calves these many years upon me. + +THE WITCH (_dancing_) + +Reason and sense forsake my brain, +Since I behold Squire Satan here again! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Woman, from such a name refrain! + +THE WITCH + +Why so? What has it done to thee? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +It's long been written in the Book of Fable; +Yet, therefore, no whit better men we see: +The Evil One has left, the evil ones are stable. +Sir Baron call me thou, then is the matter good; +A cavalier am I, like others in my bearing. +Thou hast no doubt about my noble blood: +See, here's the coat-of-arms that I am wearing! + +(_He makes an indecent gesture_.) + +THE WITCH (_laughs immoderately_) + +Ha! ha! That's just your way, I know: +A rogue you are, and you were always so. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +My friend, take proper heed, I pray! +To manage witches, this is just the way. + +THE WITCH + +Wherein, Sirs, can I be of use? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Give us a goblet of the well-known juice! +But, I must beg you, of the oldest brewage; +The years a double strength produce. + +THE WITCH + +With all my heart! Now, here's a bottle, +Wherefrom, sometimes, I wet my throttle, +Which, also, not the slightest, stinks; +And willingly a glass I'll fill him. + +(_Whispering_) + +Yet, if this man without due preparation drinks, +As well thou know'st, within an hour 'twill kill him. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +He is a friend of mine, with whom it will agree, +And he deserves thy kitchen's best potation: +Come, draw thy circle, speak thine adjuration, +And fill thy goblet full and free! + +THE WITCH + +(_with fantastic gestures draws a circle and places mysterious +articles therein; meanwhile the glasses begin to ring, the +caldron to sound, and make a musical accompaniment. +Finally she brings a great book, and stations in the circle +the Apes, who are obliged to serve as reading-desk, and to +hold the torches. She then beckons_ FAUST _to approach_.) + +FAUST (_to_ MEPHISTOPHELES) + +Now, what shall come of this? the creatures antic, +The crazy stuff, the gestures frantic,-- +All the repulsive cheats I view,-- +Are known to me, and hated, too. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O, nonsense! That's a thing for laughter; +Don't be so terribly severe! +She juggles you as doctor now, that, after, +The beverage may work the proper cheer. + +(_He persuades_ FAUST _to step into the circle_.) + +THE WITCH + +(_begins to declaim, with much emphasis, from the book_) + + See, thus it's done! + Make ten of one, + And two let be, + Make even three, + And rich thou 'It be. + Cast o'er the four! + From five and six + (The witch's tricks) + Make seven and eight, + 'Tis finished straight! + And nine is one, + And ten is none. + This is the witch's once-one's-one! + +FAUST + +She talks like one who raves in fever. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Thou'lt hear much more before we leave her. +'Tis all the same: the book I can repeat, +Such time I've squandered o'er the history: +A contradiction thus complete +Is always for the wise, no less than fools, a mystery. +The art is old and new, for verily +All ages have been taught the matter,-- +By Three and One, and One and Three, +Error instead of Truth to scatter. +They prate and teach, and no one interferes; +All from the fellowship of fools are shrinking. +Man usually believes, if only words he hears, +That also with them goes material for thinking! + +THE WITCH (_continues_) + + The lofty skill + Of Science, still + From all men deeply hidden! + Who takes no thought, + To him 'tis brought, + 'Tis given unsought, unbidden! + +FAUST + +What nonsense she declaims before us! +My head is nigh to split, I fear: +It seems to me as if I hear +A hundred thousand fools in chorus. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O Sibyl excellent, enough of adjuration! +But hither bring us thy potation, +And quickly fill the beaker to the brim! +This drink will bring my friend no injuries: +He is a man of manifold degrees, +And many draughts are known to him. + +(_The_ WITCH, _with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a +cup; as_ FAUST _sets it to his lips, a light flame arises_.) + +Down with it quickly! Drain it off! +'Twill warm thy heart with new desire: +Art with the Devil hand and glove, +And wilt thou be afraid of fire? + +(_The_ WITCH _breaks the circle_: FAUST _steps forth_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And now, away! Thou dar'st not rest. + +THE WITCH + +And much good may the liquor do thee! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to the_ WITCH) + +Thy wish be on Walpurgis Night expressed; +What boon I have, shall then be given unto thee. + +THE WITCH + +Here is a song, which, if you sometimes sing, +You'll find it of peculiar operation. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Come, walk at once! A rapid occupation +Must start the needful perspiration, +And through thy frame the liquor's potence fling. +The noble indolence I'll teach thee then to treasure, +And soon thou'lt be aware, with keenest thrills of pleasure, +How Cupid stirs and leaps, on light and restless wing. + +FAUST + +One rapid glance within the mirror give me, +How beautiful that woman-form! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No, no! The paragon of all, believe me, +Thou soon shalt see, alive and warm. + +_(Aside)_ + +Thou'lt find, this drink thy blood compelling, +Each woman beautiful as Helen! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +VII + + +STREET + +FAUST MARGARET _(passing by)_ + +FAUST + +Fair lady, let it not offend you, +That arm and escort I would lend you! + +MARGARET + +I'm neither lady, neither fair, +And home I can go without your care. + +[_She releases herself, and exit_. + +FAUST + +By Heaven, the girl is wondrous fair! +Of all I've seen, beyond compare; +So sweetly virtuous and pure, +And yet a little pert, be sure! +The lip so red, the cheek's clear dawn, +[Illustration:] +I'll not forget while the world rolls on! +How she cast down her timid eyes, +Deep in my heart imprinted lies: +How short and sharp of speech was she, +Why, 'twas a real ecstasy! + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_) + +FAUST + +Hear, of that girl I'd have possession! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Which, then? + +FAUST + +The one who just went by. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +She, there? She's coming from confession, +Of every sin absolved; for I, +Behind her chair, was listening nigh. +So innocent is she, indeed, +That to confess she had no need. +I have no power o'er souls so green. + +FAUST + +And yet, she's older than fourteen. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +How now! You're talking like Jack Rake, +Who every flower for himself would take, +And fancies there are no favors more, +Nor honors, save for him in store; +Yet always doesn't the thing succeed. + +FAUST + +Most Worthy Pedagogue, take heed! +Let not a word of moral law be spoken! +I claim, I tell thee, all my right; +And if that image of delight +Rest not within mine arms to-night, +At midnight is our compact broken. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But think, the chances of the case! +I need, at least, a fortnight's space, +To find an opportune occasion. + +FAUST + +Had I but seven hours for all, +I should not on the Devil call, +But win her by my own persuasion. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +You almost like a Frenchman prate; +Yet, pray, don't take it as annoyance! +Why, all at once, exhaust the joyance? +Your bliss is by no means so great +As if you'd use, to get control, +All sorts of tender rigmarole, +And knead and shape her to your thought, +As in Italian tales 'tis taught. + +FAUST + +Without that, I have appetite. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But now, leave jesting out of sight! +I tell you, once for all, that speed +With this fair girl will not succeed; +By storm she cannot captured be; +We must make use of strategy. + +FAUST + +Get me something the angel keeps! +Lead me thither where she sleeps! +Get me a kerchief from her breast,-- +A garter that her knee has pressed! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That you may see how much I'd fain +Further and satisfy your pain, +We will no longer lose a minute; +I'll find her room to-day, and take you in it. + +FAUST + +And shall I see--possess her? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No! +Unto a neighbor she must go, +And meanwhile thou, alone, mayst glow +With every hope of future pleasure, +Breathing her atmosphere in fullest measure. + +FAUST + +Can we go thither? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +'Tis too early yet. + +FAUST + +A gift for her I bid thee get! +[_Exit_. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Presents at once? That's good: he's certain to get at her! +Full many a pleasant place I know, +And treasures, buried long ago: +I must, perforce, look up the matter. _[Exit_. +[Illustration] + + + + +VIII + + +EVENING A SMALL, NEATLY KEPT CHAMBER + +MARGARET + +(_plaiting and binding up the braids of her hair_) + +I'd something give, could I but say +Who was that gentleman, to-day. +Surely a gallant man was he, +And of a noble family; +And much could I in his face behold,-- +And he wouldn't, else, have been so bold! + + [_Exit_ + +MEPHISTOPHELES FAUST + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Come in, but gently: follow me! + +FAUST (_after a moment's silence_) + +Leave me alone, I beg of thee! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_prying about_) + +Not every girl keeps things so neat. + +FAUST (_looking around_) + +O welcome, twilight soft and sweet, +That breathes throughout this hallowed shrine! +Sweet pain of love, bind thou with fetters fleet +The heart that on the dew of hope must pine! +How all around a sense impresses +Of quiet, order, and content! +This poverty what bounty blesses! +What bliss within this narrow den is pent! + +(_He throws himself into a leathern arm-chair near the bed_.) + +Receive me, thou, that in thine open arms +Departed joy and pain wert wont to gather! +How oft the children, with their ruddy charms, +Hung here, around this throne, where sat the father! +Perchance my love, amid the childish band, +Grateful for gifts the Holy Christmas gave her, +Here meekly kissed the grandsire's withered hand. +I feel, O maid! thy very soul +Of order and content around me whisper,-- +Which leads thee with its motherly control, +The cloth upon thy board bids smoothly thee unroll, +The sand beneath thy feet makes whiter, crisper. +O dearest hand, to thee 'tis given +To change this hut into a lower heaven! +And here! + +(_He lifts one of the bed-curtains_.) + +What sweetest thrill is in my blood! +Here could I spend whole hours, delaying: +Here Nature shaped, as if in sportive playing, +The angel blossom from the bud. +Here lay the child, with Life's warm essence +The tender bosom filled and fair, +And here was wrought, through holier, purer presence, +The form diviner beings wear! + +And I? What drew me here with power? +How deeply am I moved, this hour! +What seek I? Why so full my heart, and sore? +Miserable Faust! I know thee now no more. + +Is there a magic vapor here? +I came, with lust of instant pleasure, +And lie dissolved in dreams of love's sweet leisure! +Are we the sport of every changeful atmosphere? + +And if, this moment, came she in to me, +How would I for the fault atonement render! +How small the giant lout would be, +Prone at her feet, relaxed and tender! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Be quick! I see her there, returning. + +FAUST + +Go! go! I never will retreat. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Here is a casket, not unmeet, +Which elsewhere I have just been earning. +Here, set it in the press, with haste! +I swear, 'twill turn her head, to spy it: +Some baubles I therein had placed, +That you might win another by it. +True, child is child, and play is play. + +FAUST + +I know not, should I do it? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Ask you, pray? +Yourself, perhaps, would keep the bubble? +Then I suggest, 'twere fair and just +To spare the lovely day your lust, +And spare to me the further trouble. +You are not miserly, I trust? +I rub my hands, in expectation tender-- + +(_He places the casket in the press, and locks it again_.) + +Now quick, away! +The sweet young maiden to betray, +So that by wish and will you bend her; +And you look as though +To the lecture-hall you were forced to go,-- +As if stood before you, gray and loath, +Physics and Metaphysics both! +But away! [_Exeunt_. + +MARGARET (_with a lamp_) + +It is so close, so sultry, here! + +(_She opens the window_) + +And yet 'tis not so warm outside. +I feel, I know not why, such fear!-- +Would mother came!--where can she bide? +My body's chill and shuddering,-- +I'm but a silly, fearsome thing! + +(_She begins to sing while undressing_) + + There was a King in Thule, + Was faithful till the grave,-- + To whom his mistress, dying, + A golden goblet gave. + + Naught was to him more precious; + He drained it at every bout: + His eyes with tears ran over, + As oft as he drank thereout. + + When came his time of dying, + The towns in his land he told, + Naught else to his heir denying + Except the goblet of gold. + + He sat at the royal banquet + With his knights of high degree, + In the lofty hall of his fathers + In the Castle by the Sea. + + There stood the old carouser, + And drank the last life-glow; + And hurled the hallowed goblet + Into the tide below. + + He saw it plunging and filling, + And sinking deep in the sea: + Then fell his eyelids forever, + And never more drank he! + +(_She opens the press in order to arrange her clothes, and perceives +the casket of jewels_.) + +How comes that lovely casket here to me? +I locked the press, most certainly. +'Tis truly wonderful! What can within it be? +Perhaps 'twas brought by some one as a pawn, +And mother gave a loan thereon? +And here there hangs a key to fit: +I have a mind to open it. +What is that? God in Heaven! Whence came +Such things? Never beheld I aught so fair! +Rich ornaments, such as a noble dame +On highest holidays might wear! +How would the pearl-chain suit my hair? +Ah, who may all this splendor own? + +(_She adorns herself with the jewelry, and steps before the +mirror_.) + +Were but the ear-rings mine, alone! +One has at once another air. +What helps one's beauty, youthful blood? +One may possess them, well and good; +But none the more do others care. +They praise us half in pity, sure: +To gold still tends, +On gold depends +All, all! Alas, we poor! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +IX + + +PROMENADE + +(FAUST, _walking thoughtfully up and down. To him_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +By all love ever rejected! By hell-fire hot and unsparing! +I wish I knew something worse, that I might use it for +swearing! + +FAUST + +What ails thee? What is't gripes thee, elf? +A face like thine beheld I never. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I would myself unto the Devil deliver, +If I were not a Devil myself! + +FAUST + +Thy head is out of order, sadly: +It much becomes thee to be raving madly. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Just think, the pocket of a priest should get +The trinkets left for Margaret! +The mother saw them, and, instanter, +A secret dread began to haunt her. +Keen scent has she for tainted air; +She snuffs within her book of prayer, +And smells each article, to see +If sacred or profane it be; +So here she guessed, from every gem, +That not much blessing came with them. +"My child," she said, "ill-gotten good +Ensnares the soul, consumes the blood. +Before the Mother of God we'll lay it; +With heavenly manna she'll repay it!" +But Margaret thought, with sour grimace, +"A gift-horse is not out of place, +And, truly! godless cannot be +The one who brought such things to me." +A parson came, by the mother bidden: +He saw, at once, where the game was hidden, +And viewed it with a favor stealthy. +He spake: "That is the proper view,-- +Who overcometh, winneth too. +The Holy Church has a stomach healthy: +Hath eaten many a land as forfeit, +And never yet complained of surfeit: +The Church alone, beyond all question, +Has for ill-gotten goods the right digestion." + +FAUST + +A general practice is the same, +Which Jew and King may also claim. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Then bagged the spangles, chains, and rings, +As if but toadstools were the things, +And thanked no less, and thanked no more +Than if a sack of nuts he bore,-- +Promised them fullest heavenly pay, +And deeply edified were they. + +FAUST + +And Margaret? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Sits unrestful still, +And knows not what she should, or will; +Thinks on the jewels, day and night, +But more on him who gave her such delight. + +FAUST + +The darling's sorrow gives me pain. +Get thou a set for her again! +The first was not a great display. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +O yes, the gentleman finds it all child's-play! + +FAUST + +Fix and arrange it to my will; +And on her neighbor try thy skill! +Don't be a Devil stiff as paste, +But get fresh jewels to her taste! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, gracious Sir, in all obedience! + +[_Exit_ FAUST. + +Such an enamored fool in air would blow +Sun, moon, and all the starry legions, +To give his sweetheart a diverting show. + +[_Exit_. + +[Illustration] + + + + +X + + +THE NEIGHBOR'S HOUSE + +MARTHA (_solus_) + +God forgive my husband, yet he +Hasn't done his duty by me! +Off in the world he went straightway,-- +Left me lie in the straw where I lay. +And, truly, I did naught to fret him: +God knows I loved, and can't forget him! + +(_She weeps_.) + +Perhaps he's even dead! Ah, woe!-- +Had I a certificate to show! + +MARGARET (_comes_) + +Dame Martha! + +MARTHA + +Margaret! what's happened thee? + +MARGARET + +I scarce can stand, my knees are trembling! +I find a box, the first resembling, +Within my press! Of ebony,-- +And things, all splendid to behold, +And richer far than were the old. + +MARTHA + +You mustn't tell it to your mother! +'Twould go to the priest, as did the other. + +MARGARET + +Ah, look and see--just look and see! + +MARTHA (_adorning her_) + +O, what a blessed luck for thee! + +MARGARET + +But, ah! in the streets I dare not bear them, +Nor in the church be seen to wear them. + +MARTHA + +Yet thou canst often this way wander, +And secretly the jewels don, +Walk up and down an hour, before the mirror yonder,-- +We'll have our private joy thereon. +And then a chance will come, a holiday, +When, piece by piece, can one the things abroad display, +A chain at first, then other ornament: +Thy mother will not see, and stories we'll invent. + +MARGARET + +Whoever could have brought me things so precious? +That something's wrong, I feel suspicious. + +(_A knock_) + +Good Heaven! My mother can that have been? + +MARTHA (_peeping through the blind_) + +'Tis some strange gentleman.--Come in! + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_.) + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That I so boldly introduce me, +I beg you, ladies, to excuse me. + +(_Steps back reverently, on seeing_ MARGARET.) + +For Martha Schwerdtlein I'd inquire! + + +MARTHA + +I'm she: what does the gentleman desire? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_aside to her_) + +It is enough that you are she: +You've a visitor of high degree. +Pardon the freedom I have ta'en,-- +Will after noon return again. + + +MARTHA (_aloud_) + +Of all things in the world! Just hear-- +He takes thee for a lady, dear! + + +MARGARET + +I am a creature young and poor: +The gentleman's too kind, I'm sure. +The jewels don't belong to me. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Ah, not alone the jewelry! +The look, the manner, both betray-- +Rejoiced am I that I may stay! + + +MARTHA + +What is your business? I would fain-- + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I would I had a more cheerful strain! +Take not unkindly its repeating: +Your husband's dead, and sends a greeting. + + +MARTHA + +Is dead? Alas, that heart so true! +My husband dead! Let me die, too! + + +MARGARET + +Ah, dearest dame, let not your courage fail! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Hear me relate the mournful tale! + + +MARGARET + +Therefore I'd never love, believe me! +A loss like this to death would grieve me. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Joy follows woe, woe after joy comes flying. + + +MARTHA + +Relate his life's sad close to me! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +In Padua buried, he is lying +Beside the good Saint Antony, +Within a grave well consecrated, +For cool, eternal rest created. + + +MARTHA + +He gave you, further, no commission? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, one of weight, with many sighs: +Three hundred masses buy, to save him from perdition! +My hands are empty, otherwise. + + +MARTHA + +What! Not a pocket-piece? no jewelry? +What every journeyman within his wallet spares, +And as a token with him bears, +And rather starves or begs, than loses? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Madam, it is a grief to me; +Yet, on my word, his cash was put to proper uses. +Besides, his penitence was very sore, +And he lamented his ill fortune all the more. + + +MARGARET + +Alack, that men are so unfortunate! +Surely for his soul's sake full many a prayer I'll proffer. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +You well deserve a speedy marriage-offer: +You are so kind, compassionate. + + +MARGARET + +O, no! As yet, it would not do. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +If not a husband, then a beau for you! +It is the greatest heavenly blessing, +To have a dear thing for one's caressing. + + +MARGARET + +The country's custom is not so. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Custom, or not! It happens, though. + + +MARTHA + +Continue, pray! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + I stood beside his bed of dying. +'Twas something better than manure,-- +Half-rotten straw: and yet, he died a Christian, sure, +And found that heavier scores to his account were lying. +He cried: "I find my conduct wholly hateful! +To leave my wife, my trade, in manner so ungrateful! +Ah, the remembrance makes me die! +Would of my wrong to her I might be shriven!" + + +MARTHA (_weeping_) + +The dear, good man! Long since was he forgiven. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +"Yet she, God knows! was more to blame than I." + + +MARTHA + +He lied! What! On the brink of death he slandered? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +In the last throes his senses wandered, +If I such things but half can judge. +He said: "I had no time for play, for gaping freedom: +First children, and then work for bread to feed 'em,-- +For bread, in the widest sense, to drudge, +And could not even eat my share in peace and quiet!" + + +MARTHA + +Had he all love, all faith forgotten in his riot? +My work and worry, day and night? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Not so: the memory of it touched him quite. +Said he: "When I from Malta went away +My prayers for wife and little ones were zealous, +And such a luck from Heaven befell us, +We made a Turkish merchantman our prey, +That to the Soldan bore a mighty treasure. +Then I received, as was most fit, +Since bravery was paid in fullest measure, +My well-apportioned share of it." + + +MARTHA + +Say, how? Say, where? If buried, did he own it? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Who knows, now, whither the four winds have blown it? +A fair young damsel took him in her care, +As he in Naples wandered round, unfriended; +And she much love, much faith to him did bear, +So that he felt it till his days were ended. + + +MARTHA + +The villain! From his children thieving! +Even all the misery on him cast +Could not prevent his shameful way of living! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But see! He's dead therefrom, at last. +Were I in _your_ place, do not doubt me, +I'd mourn him decently a year, +And for another keep, meanwhile, my eyes about me. + + +MARTHA + +Ah, God! another one so dear +As was my first, this world will hardly give me. +There never was a sweeter fool than mine, +Only he loved to roam and leave me, +And foreign wenches and foreign wine, +And the damned throw of dice, indeed. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Well, well! That might have done, however, +If he had only been as clever, +And treated _your_ slips with as little heed. +I swear, with this condition, too, +I would, myself, change rings with you. + + +MARTHA + +The gentleman is pleased to jest. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I'll cut away, betimes, from here: +She'd take the Devil at his word, I fear. + +(_To_ MARGARET) + +How fares the heart within your breast? + + +MARGARET + +What means the gentleman? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_aside_) + + Sweet innocent, thou art! + +(_Aloud_.) + + Ladies, farewell! + + +MARGARET + +Farewell! + + +MARTHA + + A moment, ere we part! +I'd like to have a legal witness, +Where, how, and when he died, to certify his fitness. +Irregular ways I've always hated; +I want his death in the weekly paper stated. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, my good dame, a pair of witnesses +Always the truth establishes. +I have a friend of high condition, +Who'll also add his deposition. +I'll bring him here. + + +MARTHA + + Good Sir, pray do! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And this young lady will be present, too? +A gallant youth! has travelled far: +Ladies with him delighted are. + + +MARGARET + +Before him I should blush, ashamed. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Before no king that could be named! + + +MARTHA + +Behind the house, in my garden, then, +This eve we'll expect the gentlemen. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XI + + +A STREET + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +How is it? under way? and soon complete? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Ah, bravo! Do I find you burning? +Well, Margaret soon will still your yearning: +At Neighbor Martha's you'll this evening meet. +A fitter woman ne'er was made +To ply the pimp and gypsy trade! + +FAUST + +Tis well. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yet something is required from us. + +FAUST + +One service pays the other thus. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +We've but to make a deposition valid +That now her husband's limbs, outstretched and pallid, +At Padua rest, in consecrated soil. + +FAUST + +Most wise! And first, of course, we'll make the journey + thither? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +_Sancta simplicitas_! no need of such a toil; +Depose, with knowledge or without it, either! + +FAUST + +If you've naught better, then, I'll tear your pretty plan! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Now, there you are! O holy man! +Is it the first time in your life you're driven +To bear false witness in a case? +Of God, the world and all that in it has a place, +Of Man, and all that moves the being of his race, +Have you not terms and definitions given +With brazen forehead, daring breast? +And, if you'll probe the thing profoundly, +Knew you so much--and you'll confess it roundly!-- +As here of Schwerdtlein's death and place of rest? + +FAUST + +Thou art, and thou remain'st, a sophist, liar. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, knew I not more deeply thy desire. +For wilt thou not, no lover fairer, +Poor Margaret flatter, and ensnare her, +And all thy soul's devotion swear her? + +FAUST + +And from my heart. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + 'Tis very fine! +Thine endless love, thy faith assuring, +The one almighty force enduring,-- +Will that, too, prompt this heart of thine? + +FAUST + +Hold! hold! It will!--If such my flame, +And for the sense and power intense +I seek, and cannot find, a name; +Then range with all my senses through creation, +Craving the speech of inspiration, +And call this ardor, so supernal, +Endless, eternal and eternal,-- +Is that a devilish lying game? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And yet I'm right! + +FAUST + + Mark this, I beg of thee! +And spare my lungs henceforth: whoever +Intends to have the right, if but his + tongue be clever, +Will have it, certainly. +But come: the further talking brings + disgust, +For thou art right, especially since I + must. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XII + + +GARDEN + +(MARGARET _on_ FAUST'S _arm_. MARTHA _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES +_walking up and down_.) + +MARGARET + +I feel, the gentleman allows for me, +Demeans himself, and shames me by it; +A traveller is so used to be +Kindly content with any diet. +I know too well that my poor gossip can +Ne'er entertain such an experienced man. + +FAUST + +A look from thee, a word, more entertains +Than all the lore of wisest brains. + +(_He kisses her hand_.) + +MARGARET + +Don't incommode yourself! How could you ever kiss it! +It is so ugly, rough to see! +What work I do,--how hard and steady is it! +Mother is much too close with me. + +[_They pass_. + +MARTHA + +And you, Sir, travel always, do you not? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Alas, that trade and duty us so harry! +With what a pang one leaves so many a spot, +And dares not even now and then to tarry! + +MARTHA + +In young, wild years it suits your ways, +This round and round the world in freedom sweeping; +But then come on the evil days, +And so, as bachelor, into his grave a-creeping, +None ever found a thing to praise. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I dread to see how such a fate advances. + +MARTHA + +Then, worthy Sir, improve betimes your chances! + +[_They pass_. + +MARGARET + +Yes, out of sight is out of mind! +Your courtesy an easy grace is; +But you have friends in other places, +And sensibler than I, you'll find. + +FAUST + +Trust me, dear heart! what men call sensible +Is oft mere vanity and narrowness. + +MARGARET + + How so? + +FAUST + +Ah, that simplicity and innocence ne'er know +Themselves, their holy value, and their spell! +That meekness, lowliness, the highest graces +Which Nature portions out so lovingly-- + +MARGARET + +So you but think a moment's space on me, +All times I'll have to think on you, all places! + +FAUST + +No doubt you're much alone? + +MARGARET + +Yes, for our household small has grown, +Yet must be cared for, you will own. +We have no maid: I do the knitting, sewing, sweeping, +The cooking, early work and late, in fact; +And mother, in her notions of housekeeping, +Is so exact! +Not that she needs so much to keep expenses down: +We, more than others, might take comfort, rather: +A nice estate was left us by my father, +A house, a little garden near the town. +But now my days have less of noise and hurry; +My brother is a soldier, +My little sister's dead. +True, with the child a troubled life I led, +Yet I would take again, and willing, all the worry, +So very dear was she. + +FAUST + +An angel, if like thee! + +MARGARET + +I brought it up, and it was fond of me. +Father had died before it saw the light, +And mother's case seemed hopeless quite, +So weak and miserable she lay; +And she recovered, then, so slowly, day by day. +She could not think, herself, of giving +The poor wee thing its natural living; +And so I nursed it all alone +With milk and water: 'twas my own. +Lulled in my lap with many a song, +It smiled, and tumbled, and grew strong. + +FAUST + +The purest bliss was surely then thy dower. + +MARGARET + +But surely, also, many a weary hour. +I kept the baby's cradle near +My bed at night: if 't even stirred, I'd guess it, +And waking, hear. +And I must nurse it, warm beside me press it, +And oft, to quiet it, my bed forsake, +And dandling back and forth the restless creature take, +Then at the wash-tub stand, at morning's break; +And then the marketing and kitchen-tending, +Day after day, the same thing, never-ending. +One's spirits, Sir, are thus not always good, +But then one learns to relish rest and food. + +[_They pass_. + +MARTHA + +Yes, the poor women are bad off, 'tis true: +A stubborn bachelor there's no converting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +It but depends upon the like of you, +And I should turn to better ways than flirting. + +MARTHA + +Speak plainly, Sir, have you no one detected? +Has not your heart been anywhere subjected? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The proverb says: One's own warm hearth +And a good wife, are gold and jewels worth. + +MARTHA + +I mean, have you not felt desire, though ne'er so slightly? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I've everywhere, in fact, been entertained politely. + +MARTHA + +I meant to say, were you not touched in earnest, ever? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +One should allow one's self to jest with ladies never. + + +MARTHA +Ah, you don't understand! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I'm sorry I'm so blind: +But I am sure--that you are very kind. + +[_They pass_. + +FAUST + +And me, thou angel! didst thou recognize, +As through the garden-gate I came? + +MARGARET + +Did you not see it? I cast down my eyes. + +FAUST + +And thou forgiv'st my freedom, and the blame +To my impertinence befitting, +As the Cathedral thou wert quitting? + +MARGARET + +I was confused, the like ne'er happened me; +No one could ever speak to my discredit. +Ah, thought I, in my conduct has he read it-- +Something immodest or unseemly free? +He seemed to have the sudden feeling +That with this wench 'twere very easy dealing. +I will confess, I knew not what appeal +On your behalf, here, in my bosom grew; +But I was angry with myself, to feel +That I could not be angrier with you. + + +FAUST + +Sweet darling! + +MARGARET + +Wait a while! + +(_She plucks a star-flower, and pulls off the leaves, one after +the other_.) + +FAUST + +Shall that a nosegay be? + +MARGARET + +No, it is just in play. + +FAUST + +How? + +MARGARET + +Go! you'll laugh at me. +(_She pulls off the leaves and murmurs_.) + +FAUST + +What murmurest thou? + +MARGARET (_half aloud_) + +He loves me--loves me not. + +FAUST + +Thou sweet, angelic soul! + +MARGARET (_continues_) + +Loves me--not--loves me--not-- +(_plucking the last leaf, she cries with frank delight_:) + +He loves me! + +FAUST + +Yes, child! and let this blossom-word +For thee be speech divine! He loves thee! +Ah, know'st thou what it means? He loves thee! + +(_He grasps both her hands_.) + +MARGARET + +I'm all a-tremble! + +FAUST + +O tremble not! but let this look, +Let this warm clasp of hands declare thee +What is unspeakable! +To yield one wholly, and to feel a rapture +In yielding, that must be eternal! +Eternal!--for the end would be despair. +No, no,--no ending! no ending! + +MARTHA (_coming forward_) + +The night is falling. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Ay! we must away. + +MARTHA + +I'd ask you, longer here to tarry, +But evil tongues in this town have full play. +It's as if nobody had nothing to fetch and carry, +Nor other labor, +But spying all the doings of one's neighbor: +And one becomes the talk, do whatsoe'er one may. +Where is our couple now? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Flown up the alley yonder, +The wilful summer-birds! + +MARTHA + + He seems of her still fonder. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And she of him. So runs the world away! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XIII + + +A GARDEN-ARBOR + +(MARGARET _comes in, conceals herself behind the door, puts her +finger to her lips, and peeps through the crack_.) + +MARGARET + +He comes! + +FAUST (_entering_) + + Ah, rogue! a tease thou art: +I have thee! +(_He kisses her_.) + +MARGARET + +(_clasping him, and returning the kiss_) + Dearest man! I love thee from my heart. + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _knocks_) + +FAUST (_stamping his foot_) + +Who's there? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A friend! + +FAUST + + A beast! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Tis time to separate. + +MARTHA (_coming_) + +Yes, Sir, 'tis late. + +FAUST + + May I not, then, upon you wait? + +MARGARET +My mother would--farewell! + +FAUST + + Ah, can I not remain? +Farewell! + +MARTHA + + Adieu! + +MARGARET + + And soon to meet again! + +[_Exeunt_ FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES. + +MARGARET + +Dear God! However is it, such +A man can think and know so much? +I stand ashamed and in amaze, +And answer "Yes" to all he says, +A poor, unknowing child! and he-- +I can't think what he finds in me! [_Exit_. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XIV + + +FOREST AND CAVERN + +FAUST (_solus_) + +Spirit sublime, thou gav'st me, gav'st me all +For which I prayed. Not unto me in vain +Hast thou thy countenance revealed in fire. +Thou gav'st me Nature as a kingdom grand, +With power to feel and to enjoy it. Thou +Not only cold, amazed acquaintance yield'st, +But grantest, that in her profoundest breast +I gaze, as in the bosom of a friend. +The ranks of living creatures thou dost lead +Before me, teaching me to know my brothers +In air and water and the silent wood. +And when the storm in forests roars and grinds, +The giant firs, in falling, neighbor boughs +And neighbor trunks with crushing weight bear down, +And falling, fill the hills with hollow thunders,-- +Then to the cave secure thou leadest me, +Then show'st me mine own self, and in my breast +The deep, mysterious miracles unfold. +And when the perfect moon before my gaze +Comes up with soothing light, around me float +From every precipice and thicket damp +The silvery phantoms of the ages past, +And temper the austere delight of thought. + +That nothing can be perfect unto Man +I now am conscious. With this ecstasy, +Which brings me near and nearer to the Gods, +Thou gav'st the comrade, whom I now no more +Can do without, though, cold and scornful, he +Demeans me to myself, and with a breath, +A word, transforms thy gifts to nothingness. +Within my breast he fans a lawless fire, +Unwearied, for that fair and lovely form: +Thus in desire I hasten to enjoyment, +And in enjoyment pine to feel desire. + +(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Have you not led this life quite long enough? +How can a further test delight you? +'Tis very well, that once one tries the stuff, +But something new must then requite you. + +FAUST + +Would there were other work for thee! +To plague my day auspicious thou returnest. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Well! I'll engage to let thee be: +Thou darest not tell me so in earnest. +The loss of thee were truly very slight,-- +comrade crazy, rude, repelling: + +[Illustration] + +One has one's hands full all the day and night; +If what one does, or leaves undone, is right, +From such a face as thine there is no telling. + +FAUST + +There is, again, thy proper tone!-- +That thou hast bored me, I must thankful be! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Poor Son of Earth, how couldst thou thus alone +Have led thy life, bereft of me? +I, for a time, at least, have worked thy cure; +Thy fancy's rickets plague thee not at all: +Had I not been, so hadst thou, sure, +Walked thyself off this earthly ball +Why here to caverns, rocky hollows slinking, +Sit'st thou, as 'twere an owl a-blinking? +Why suck'st, from sodden moss and dripping stone, +Toad-like, thy nourishment alone? +A fine way, this, thy time to fill! +The Doctor's in thy body still. + +FAUST + +What fresh and vital forces, canst thou guess, +Spring from my commerce with the wilderness? +But, if thou hadst the power of guessing, +Thou wouldst be devil enough to grudge my soul the blessing. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A blessing drawn from supernatural fountains! +In night and dew to lie upon the mountains; +All Heaven and Earth in rapture penetrating; +Thyself to Godhood haughtily inflating; +To grub with yearning force through Earth's dark marrow, +Compress the six days' work within thy bosom narrow,-- +To taste, I know not what, in haughty power, +Thine own ecstatic life on all things shower, +Thine earthly self behind thee cast, +And then the lofty instinct, thus-- + +(_With a gesture_:) + +at last,-- +daren't say how--to pluck the final flower! + +FAUST + +Shame on thee! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yes, thou findest that unpleasant! +Thou hast the moral right to cry me "shame!" at present. +One dares not that before chaste ears declare, +Which chaste hearts, notwithstanding, cannot spare; +And, once for all, I grudge thee not the pleasure +Of lying to thyself in moderate measure. +But such a course thou wilt not long endure; +Already art thou o'er-excited, +And, if it last, wilt soon be plighted +To madness and to horror, sure. +Enough of that! Thy love sits lonely yonder, +By all things saddened and oppressed; +Her thoughts and yearnings seek thee, tenderer, fonder,-- +mighty love is in her breast. +First came thy passion's flood and poured around her +As when from melted snow a streamlet overflows; +Thou hast therewith so filled and drowned her, +That now _thy_ stream all shallow shows. +Methinks, instead of in the forests lording, +The noble Sir should find it good, +The love of this young silly blood +At once to set about rewarding. +Her time is miserably long; +She haunts her window, watching clouds that stray +O'er the old city-wall, and far away. +"Were I a little bird!" so runs her song, +Day long, and half night long. +Now she is lively, mostly sad, +Now, wept beyond her tears; +Then again quiet she appears,--Always +love-mad. + +FAUST + +Serpent! Serpent! + +MEPHISTOPHELES _(aside)_ + +Ha! do I trap thee! + +FAUST + +Get thee away with thine offences, +Reprobate! Name not that fairest thing, +Nor the desire for her sweet body bring +Again before my half-distracted senses! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What wouldst thou, then? She thinks that thou art flown; +And half and half thou art, I own. + +FAUST + +Yet am I near, and love keeps watch and ward; +Though I were ne'er so far, it cannot falter: +I envy even the Body of the Lord +The touching of her lips, before the altar. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +'Tis very well! _My_ envy oft reposes +On your twin-pair, that feed among the roses. + +FAUST + +Away, thou pimp! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +You rail, and it is fun to me. +The God, who fashioned youth and maid, +Perceived the noblest purpose of His trade, +And also made their opportunity. +Go on! It is a woe profound! +'Tis for your sweetheart's room you're bound, +And not for death, indeed. + +FAUST + +What are, within her arms, the heavenly blisses? +Though I be glowing with her kisses, +Do I not always share her need? +I am the fugitive, all houseless roaming, +The monster without air or rest, +That like a cataract, down rocks and gorges foaming, +Leaps, maddened, into the abyss's breast! +And side-wards she, with young unwakened senses, +Within her cabin on the Alpine field +Her simple, homely life commences, +Her little world therein concealed. +And I, God's hate flung o'er me, +Had not enough, to thrust +The stubborn rocks before me +And strike them into dust! +She and her peace I yet must undermine: +Thou, Hell, hast claimed this sacrifice as thine! +Help, Devil! through the coming pangs to push me; +What must be, let it quickly be! +Let fall on me her fate, and also crush me,-- +One ruin whelm both her and me! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Again it seethes, again it glows! +Thou fool, go in and comfort her! +When such a head as thine no outlet knows, +It thinks the end must soon occur. +Hail him, who keeps a steadfast mind! +Thou, else, dost well the devil-nature wear: +Naught so insipid in the world I find +As is a devil in despair. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XV + + +MARGARET'S ROOM + +MARGARET + +(_at the spinning-wheel, alone_) + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + Save I have him near. + The grave is here; + The world is gall + And bitterness all. + + My poor weak head + Is racked and crazed; + My thought is lost, + My senses mazed. + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + To see him, him only, + At the pane I sit; + To meet him, him only, + The house I quit. + + His lofty gait, + His noble size, + The smile of his mouth, + The power of his eyes, + + And the magic flow + Of his talk, the bliss + In the clasp of his hand, + And, ah! his kiss! + + My peace is gone, + My heart is sore: + I never shall find it, + Ah, nevermore! + + My bosom yearns + For him alone; + Ah, dared I clasp him, + And hold, and own! + + And kiss his mouth, + To heart's desire, + And on his kisses + At last expire! + +[Illustration] + + + + +XVI + + +MARTHA'S GARDEN + +MARGARET FAUST + +MARGARET + +Promise me, Henry!-- + +FAUST + +What I can! + +MARGARET + +How is't with thy religion, pray? +Thou art a dear, good-hearted man, +And yet, I think, dost not incline that way. + +FAUST + +Leave that, my child! Thou know'st my love is tender; +For love, my blood and life would I surrender, +And as for Faith and Church, I grant to each his own. + +MARGARET + +That's not enough: we must believe thereon. + +FAUST + +Must we? + +MARGARET + +Would that I had some influence! +Then, too, thou honorest not the Holy Sacraments. + +FAUST + +I honor them. + +MARGARET + +Desiring no possession +'Tis long since thou hast been to mass or to confession. +Believest thou in God? + +FAUST + +My darling, who shall dare +"I believe in God!" to say? +Ask priest or sage the answer to declare, +And it will seem a mocking play, +A sarcasm on the asker. + +MARGARET + +Then thou believest not! + +FAUST + +Hear me not falsely, sweetest countenance! +Who dare express Him? +And who profess Him, +Saying: I believe in Him! +Who, feeling, seeing, +Deny His being, +Saying: I believe Him not! +The All-enfolding, +The All-upholding, +Folds and upholds he not +Thee, me, Himself? +Arches not there the sky above us? +Lies not beneath us, firm, the earth? +And rise not, on us shining, +Friendly, the everlasting stars? +Look I not, eye to eye, on thee, +And feel'st not, thronging +To head and heart, the force, +Still weaving its eternal secret, +Invisible, visible, round thy life? +Vast as it is, fill with that force thy heart, +And when thou in the feeling wholly blessed art, +Call it, then, what thou wilt,-- +Call it Bliss! Heart! Love! God! +I have no name to give it! +Feeling is all in all: +The Name is sound and smoke, +Obscuring Heaven's clear glow. + +MARGARET + +All that is fine and good, to hear it so: +Much the same way the preacher spoke, +Only with slightly different phrases. + +FAUST + +The same thing, in all places, +All hearts that beat beneath the heavenly day-- +Each in its language--say; +Then why not I, in mine, as well? + +MARGARET + +To hear it thus, it may seem passable; +And yet, some hitch in't there must be +For thou hast no Christianity. + +FAUST + +Dear love! + +MARGARET + + I've long been grieved to see +That thou art in such company. + +FAUST + +How so? + +MARGARET + + The man who with thee goes, thy mate, +Within my deepest, inmost soul I hate. +In all my life there's nothing +Has given my heart so keen a pang of loathing, +As his repulsive face has done. + +FAUST + +Nay, fear him not, my sweetest one! + +MARGARET + +I feel his presence like something ill. +I've else, for all, a kindly will, +But, much as my heart to see thee yearneth, +The secret horror of him returneth; +And I think the man a knave, as I live! +If I do him wrong, may God forgive! + +FAUST + +There must be such queer birds, however. + +MARGARET + +Live with the like of him, may I never! +When once inside the door comes he, +He looks around so sneeringly, +And half in wrath: +One sees that in nothing no interest he hath: +'Tis written on his very forehead +That love, to him, is a thing abhorred. +I am so happy on thine arm, +So free, so yielding, and so warm, +And in his presence stifled seems my heart. + +FAUST + +Foreboding angel that thou art! + +MARGARET + +It overcomes me in such degree, +That wheresoe'er he meets us, even, +I feel as though I'd lost my love for thee. +When he is by, I could not pray to Heaven. +That burns within me like a flame, +And surely, Henry, 'tis with thee the same. + +FAUST + +There, now, is thine antipathy! + +MARGARET + +But I must go. + +FAUST + + Ah, shall there never be +A quiet hour, to see us fondly plighted, +With breast to breast, and soul to soul united? + +MARGARET + +Ah, if I only slept alone! +I'd draw the bolts to-night, for thy desire; +But mother's sleep so light has grown, +And if we were discovered by her, +'Twould be my death upon the spot! + +FAUST + +Thou angel, fear it not! +Here is a phial: in her drink +But three drops of it measure, +And deepest sleep will on her senses sink. + +MARGARET + +What would I not, to give thee pleasure? +It will not harm her, when one tries it? + +FAUST + +If 'twould, my love, would I advise it? + +MARGARET + +Ah, dearest man, if but thy face I see, +I know not what compels me to thy will: +So much have I already done for thee, +That scarcely more is left me to fulfil. + +(_Enter_ MEPHISTOPHELES.) [_Exit_. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The monkey! Is she gone? + +FAUST + + Hast played the spy again? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I've heard, most fully, how she drew thee. +The Doctor has been catechised, 'tis plain; +Great good, I hope, the thing will do thee. +The girls have much desire to ascertain +If one is prim and good, as ancient rules compel: +If there he's led, they think, he'll follow them as well. + +FAUST + +Thou, monster, wilt nor see nor own +How this pure soul, of faith so lowly, +So loving and ineffable,-- +The faith alone +That her salvation is,--with scruples holy +Pines, lest she hold as lost the man she loves so well! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Thou, full of sensual, super-sensual desire, +A girl by the nose is leading thee. + +FAUST + +Abortion, thou, of filth and fire! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And then, how masterly she reads physiognomy! +When I am present she's impressed, she knows not how; +She in my mask a hidden sense would read: +She feels that surely I'm a genius now,-- +Perhaps the very Devil, indeed! +Well, well,--to-night--? + +FAUST + + What's that to thee? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Yet my delight 'twill also be! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XVII + + +AT THE FOUNTAIN + +MARGARET _and_ LISBETH _With pitchers_. + +LISBETH + +Hast nothing heard of Barbara? + +MARGARET + +No, not a word. I go so little out. + +LISBETH + +It's true, Sibylla said, to-day. +She's played the fool at last, there's not a doubt. +Such taking-on of airs! + +MARGARET + + How so? + +LISBETH + + It stinks! +She's feeding two, whene'er she eats and drinks. + +MARGARET + +Ah! + +LISBETH + + And so, at last, it serves her rightly. +She clung to the fellow so long and tightly! +That was a promenading! +At village and dance parading! +As the first they must everywhere shine, +And he treated her always to pies and wine, +And she made a to-do with her face so fine; +So mean and shameless was her behavior, +She took all the presents the fellow gave her. +'Twas kissing and coddling, on and on! +So now, at the end, the flower is gone. + +MARGARET + +The poor, poor thing! + +LISBETH + + Dost pity her, at that? +When one of us at spinning sat, +And mother, nights, ne'er let us out the door +She sported with her paramour. +On the door-bench, in the passage dark, +The length of the time they'd never mark. +So now her head no more she'll lift, +But do church-penance in her sinner's shift! + +MARGARET + +He'll surely take her for his wife. + +LISBETH + +He'd be a fool! A brisk young blade +Has room, elsewhere, to ply his trade. +Besides, he's gone. + +MARGARET + + That is not fair! + +LISBETH + +If him she gets, why let her beware! +The boys shall dash her wreath on the floor, +And we'll scatter chaff before her door! + [_Exit_. + +MARGARET (_returning home_) + +How scornfully I once reviled, +When some poor maiden was beguiled! +More speech than any tongue suffices +I craved, to censure others' vices. +Black as it seemed, I blackened still, +And blacker yet was in my will; +And blessed myself, and boasted high,-- +And now--a living sin am I! +Yet--all that drove my heart thereto, +God! was so good, so dear, so true! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XVIII + + +DONJON + +(_In a niche of the wall a shrine, with an image of the Mater +Dolorosa. Pots of flowers before it_.) + +MARGARET + +(_putting fresh flowers in the pots_) + + Incline, O Maiden, + Thou sorrow-laden, + Thy gracious countenance upon my pain! + + The sword Thy heart in, + With anguish smarting, + Thou lookest up to where Thy Son is slain! + + Thou seest the Father; + Thy sad sighs gather, + And bear aloft Thy sorrow and His pain! + + Ah, past guessing, + Beyond expressing, + The pangs that wring my flesh and bone! + Why this anxious heart so burneth, + Why it trembleth, why it yearneth, + Knowest Thou, and Thou alone! + + Where'er I go, what sorrow, + What woe, what woe and sorrow + Within my bosom aches! + Alone, and ah! unsleeping, + I'm weeping, weeping, weeping, + The heart within me breaks. + + The pots before my window, + Alas! my tears did wet, + As in the early morning + For thee these flowers I set. + + Within my lonely chamber + The morning sun shone red: + I sat, in utter sorrow, + Already on my bed. + + Help! rescue me from death and stain! + O Maiden! + Thou sorrow-laden, + Incline Thy countenance upon my pain! + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XIX + + +NIGHT + +STREET BEFORE MARGARET'S DOOR + +VALENTINE (_a soldier_, MARGARET'S _brother_) + +When I have sat at some carouse. +Where each to each his brag allows, +And many a comrade praised to me +His pink of girls right lustily, +With brimming glass that spilled the toast, +And elbows planted as in boast: +I sat in unconcerned repose, +And heard the swagger as it rose. +And stroking then my beard, I'd say, +Smiling, the bumper in my hand: +"Each well enough in her own way. +But is there one in all the land +Like sister Margaret, good as gold,-- +One that to her can a candle hold?" +Cling! clang! "Here's to her!" went around +The board: "He speaks the truth!" cried some; +"In her the flower o' the sex is found!" +And all the swaggerers were dumb. +And now!--I could tear my hair with vexation. +And dash out my brains in desperation! +With turned-up nose each scamp may face me, +With sneers and stinging taunts disgrace me, +And, like a bankrupt debtor sitting, +A chance-dropped word may set me sweating! +Yet, though I thresh them all together, +I cannot call them liars, either. + +But what comes sneaking, there, to view? +If I mistake not, there are two. +If _he's_ one, let me at him drive! +He shall not leave the spot alive. + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +How from the window of the sacristy +Upward th'eternal lamp sends forth a glimmer, +That, lessening side-wards, fainter grows and dimmer, +Till darkness closes from the sky! +The shadows thus within my bosom gather. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I'm like a sentimental tom-cat, rather, +That round the tall fire-ladders sweeps, +And stealthy, then, along the coping creeps: +Quite virtuous, withal, I come, +A little thievish and a little frolicsome. +I feel in every limb the presage +Forerunning the grand Walpurgis-Night: +Day after to-morrow brings its message, +And one keeps watch then with delight. + +FAUST + +Meanwhile, may not the treasure risen be, +Which there, behind, I glimmering see? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Shalt soon experience the pleasure, +To lift the kettle with its treasure. +I lately gave therein a squint-- +Saw splendid lion-dollars in 't. + +FAUST + +Not even a jewel, not a ring, +To deck therewith my darling girl? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I saw, among the rest, a thing +That seemed to be a chain of pearl. + +FAUST + +That's well, indeed! For painful is it +To bring no gift when her I visit. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Thou shouldst not find it so annoying, +Without return to be enjoying. +Now, while the sky leads forth its starry throng, +Thou'lt hear a masterpiece, no work completer: +I'll sing her, first, a moral song, +The surer, afterwards, to cheat her. + +(_Sings to the cither_.) + + What dost thou here + In daybreak clear, + Kathrina dear, + Before thy lover's door? + Beware! the blade + Lets in a maid. + That out a maid + Departeth nevermore! + + The coaxing shun + Of such an one! + When once 'tis done + Good-night to thee, poor thing! + Love's time is brief: + Unto no thief + Be warm and lief, + But with the wedding-ring! + +VALENTINE (_comes forward_) + +Whom wilt thou lure? God's-element! +Rat-catching piper, thou!--perdition! +To the Devil, first, the instrument! +To the Devil, then, the curst musician! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The cither's smashed! For nothing more 'tis fitting. + +VALENTINE + +There's yet a skull I must be splitting! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Sir Doctor, don't retreat, I pray! +Stand by: I'll lead, if you'll but tarry: +Out with your spit, without delay! +You've but to lunge, and I will parry. + +VALENTINE + +Then parry that! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + + Why not? 'tis light. +VALENTINE + +That, too! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Of course. + +VALENTINE + +I think the Devil must fight! +How is it, then? my hand's already lame: + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Thrust home! + +VALENTINE (_jails_) + +O God! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Now is the lubber tame! +But come, away! 'Tis time for us to fly; +For there arises now a murderous cry. +With the police 'twere easy to compound it, +But here the penal court will sift and sound it. + +[_Exit with_ FAUST. + +MARTHA (_at the window_) + +Come out! Come out! + +MARGARET (_at the window_) + +Quick, bring a light! + +MARTHA (_as above_) + +They swear and storm, they yell and fight! + +PEOPLE + +Here lies one dead already--see! + +MARTHA (_coming from the house_) + +The murderers, whither have they run? + +MARGARET (_coming out_) + +Who lies here? + +PEOPLE + +'Tis thy mother's son! + +MARGARET + +Almighty God! what misery! + +VALENTINE + +I'm dying! That is quickly said, +And quicker yet 'tis done. +Why howl, you women there? Instead, +Come here and listen, every one! + +(_All gather around him_) + +My Margaret, see! still young thou art, +But not the least bit shrewd or smart, +Thy business thus to slight: +So this advice I bid thee heed-- +Now that thou art a whore indeed, +Why, be one then, outright! + +MARGARET + +My brother! God! such words to me? + +VALENTINE + +In this game let our Lord God be! +What's done's already done, alas! +What follows it, must come to pass. +With one begin'st thou secretly, +Then soon will others come to thee, +And when a dozen thee have known, +Thou'rt also free to all the town. +When Shame is born and first appears, +She is in secret brought to light, +And then they draw the veil of night +Over her head and ears; +Her life, in fact, they're loath to spare her. +But let her growth and strength display, +She walks abroad unveiled by day, +Yet is not grown a whit the fairer. +The uglier she is to sight, +The more she seeks the day's broad light. +The time I verily can discern +When all the honest folk will turn +From thee, thou jade! and seek protection +As from a corpse that breeds infection. +Thy guilty heart shall then dismay thee. +When they but look thee in the face:-- +Shalt not in a golden chain array thee, +Nor at the altar take thy place! +Shalt not, in lace and ribbons flowing, +Make merry when the dance is going! +But in some corner, woe betide thee! +Among the beggars and cripples hide thee; +And so, though even God forgive, +On earth a damned existence live! + +MARTHA + +Commend your soul to God for pardon, +That you your heart with slander harden! + +VALENTINE + +Thou pimp most infamous, be still! +Could I thy withered body kill, +'Twould bring, for all my sinful pleasure, +Forgiveness in the richest measure. + +MARGARET + +My brother! This is Hell's own pain! + +VALENTINE + +I tell thee, from thy tears refrain! +When thou from honor didst depart +It stabbed me to the very heart. +Now through the slumber of the grave +I go to God as a soldier brave. + +(_Dies_.) + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XX + + +CATHEDRAL + +SERVICE, ORGAN _and_ ANTHEM. + +(MARGARET _among much people: the_ EVIL SPIRIT _behind_ +MARGARET.) + +EVIL SPIRIT + +HOW otherwise was it, Margaret, +When thou, still innocent, +Here to the altar cam'st, +And from the worn and fingered book +Thy prayers didst prattle, +Half sport of childhood, +Half God within thee! +Margaret! +Where tends thy thought? +Within thy bosom +What hidden crime? +Pray'st thou for mercy on thy mother's soul, +That fell asleep to long, long torment, and through thee? +Upon thy threshold whose the blood? +And stirreth not and quickens +Something beneath thy heart, +Thy life disquieting +With most foreboding presence? + +MARGARET + +Woe! woe! +Would I were free from the thoughts +That cross me, drawing hither and thither +Despite me! + +CHORUS + + _Diesira, dies illa, + Solvet soeclum in favilla_! + _(Sound of the organ_.) + +EVIL SPIRIT + +Wrath takes thee! +The trumpet peals! +The graves tremble! +And thy heart +From ashy rest +To fiery torments +Now again requickened, +Throbs to life! + +MARGARET + +Would I were forth! +I feel as if the organ here +My breath takes from me, +My very heart +Dissolved by the anthem! + + +CHORUS + + _Judex ergo cum sedebit, + Quidquid latet, ad parebit, + Nil inultum remanebit_. +MARGARET + +I cannot breathe! +The massy pillars +Imprison me! +The vaulted arches +Crush me!--Air! + +EVIL SPIRIT + +Hide thyself! Sin and shame +Stay never hidden. +Air? Light? +Woe to thee! + +CHORUS + + _Quid sum miser tunc dicturus, + Quem patronem rogaturus, + Cum vix Justus sit securus_? + +EVIL SPIRIT + +They turn their faces, +The glorified, from thee: +The pure, their hands to offer, +Shuddering, refuse thee! +Woe! + +CHORUS + +_Quid sum miser tune dicturus_? + +MARGARET + +Neighbor! your cordial! (_She falls in a swoon_.) + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXI + + +WALPURGIS-NIGHT + +THE HARTZ MOUNTAINS. + +_District of Schierke and Elend_. + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +DOST thou not wish a broomstick-steed's assistance? +The sturdiest he-goat I would gladly see: +The way we take, our goal is yet some distance. + +FAUST + +So long as in my legs I feel the fresh existence. +This knotted staff suffices me. +What need to shorten so the way? +Along this labyrinth of vales to wander, +Then climb the rocky ramparts yonder, +Wherefrom the fountain flings eternal spray, +Is such delight, my steps would fain delay. +The spring-time stirs within the fragrant birches, +And even the fir-tree feels it now: +Should then our limbs escape its gentle searches? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I notice no such thing, I vow! +'Tis winter still within my body: +Upon my path I wish for frost and snow. +How sadly rises, incomplete and ruddy, +The moon's lone disk, with its belated glow, +And lights so dimly, that, as one advances, +At every step one strikes a rock or tree! +Let us, then, use a Jack-o'-lantern's glances: +I see one yonder, burning merrily. +Ho, there! my friend! I'll levy thine attendance: +Why waste so vainly thy resplendence? +Be kind enough to light us up the steep! + +WILL-O'-THE-WISP + +My reverence, I hope, will me enable +To curb my temperament unstable; +For zigzag courses we are wont to keep. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Indeed? he'd like mankind to imitate! +Now, in the Devil's name, go straight, +Or I'll blow out his being's flickering spark! + +WILL-O'-THE-WISP + +You are the master of the house, I mark, +And I shall try to serve you nicely. +But then, reflect: the mountain's magic-mad to-day, +And if a will-o'-the-wisp must guide you on the way, +You mustn't take things too precisely. + +FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, WILL-O'-THE-WISP + +(_in alternating song_) + + We, it seems, have entered newly + In the sphere of dreams enchanted. + Do thy bidding, guide us truly, + That our feet be forwards planted + In the vast, the desert spaces! + See them swiftly changing places, + Trees on trees beside us trooping, + And the crags above us stooping, + And the rocky snouts, outgrowing,-- + Hear them snoring, hear them blowing! + O'er the stones, the grasses, flowing + Stream and streamlet seek the hollow. + Hear I noises? songs that follow? + Hear I tender love-petitions? + Voices of those heavenly visions? + Sounds of hope, of love undying! + And the echoes, like traditions + Of old days, come faint and hollow. + + Hoo-hoo! Shoo-hoo! Nearer hover + Jay and screech-owl, and the plover,-- + Are they all awake and crying? + Is't the salamander pushes, + Bloated-bellied, through the bushes? + And the roots, like serpents twisted, + Through the sand and boulders toiling, + Fright us, weirdest links uncoiling + To entrap us, unresisted: + Living knots and gnarls uncanny + Feel with polypus-antennae + For the wanderer. Mice are flying, + Thousand-colored, herd-wise hieing + Through the moss and through the heather! + + And the fire-flies wink and darkle, + Crowded swarms that soar and sparkle, + And in wildering escort gather! + + Tell me, if we still are standing, + Or if further we're ascending? + All is turning, whirling, blending, + Trees and rocks with grinning faces, + Wandering lights that spin in mazes, + Still increasing and expanding! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Grasp my skirt with heart undaunted! +Here a middle-peak is planted, +Whence one seeth, with amaze, +Mammon in the mountain blaze. + +FAUST + +How strangely glimmers through the hollows +A dreary light, like that of dawn! +Its exhalation tracks and follows +The deepest gorges, faint and wan. +Here steam, there rolling vapor sweepeth; +Here burns the glow through film and haze: +Now like a tender thread it creepeth, +Now like a fountain leaps and plays. +Here winds away, and in a hundred +Divided veins the valley braids: +There, in a corner pressed and sundered, +Itself detaches, spreads and fades. +Here gush the sparkles incandescent +Like scattered showers of golden sand;-- +But, see! in all their height, at present, +The rocky ramparts blazing stand. + +[Illustration: _Under the old ribs of the rock retreating_,] + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Has not Sir Mammon grandly lighted +His palace for this festal night? +'Tis lucky thou hast seen the sight; +The boisterous guests approach that were invited. + +FAUST + +How raves the tempest through the air! +With what fierce blows upon my neck 'tis beating! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Under the old ribs of the rock retreating, +Hold fast, lest thou be hurled down the abysses there! +The night with the mist is black; +Hark! how the forests grind and crack! +Frightened, the owlets are scattered: +Hearken! the pillars are shattered. +The evergreen palaces shaking! +Boughs are groaning and breaking, +The tree-trunks terribly thunder, +The roots are twisting asunder! +In frightfully intricate crashing +Each on the other is dashing, +And over the wreck-strewn gorges +The tempest whistles and surges! +Hear'st thou voices higher ringing? +Far away, or nearer singing? +Yes, the mountain's side along, +Sweeps an infuriate glamouring song! + +WITCHES (_in chorus_) + + The witches ride to the Brocken's top, + The stubble is yellow, and green the crop. + There gathers the crowd for carnival: + Sir Urian sits over all. + + And so they go over stone and stock; + The witch she-----s, and-----s the buck. + +A VOICE + + Alone, old Baubo's coming now; + She rides upon a farrow-sow. + +CHORUS + + Then honor to whom the honor is due! + Dame Baubo first, to lead the crew! + A tough old sow and the mother thereon, + Then follow the witches, every one. + +A VOICE + +Which way com'st thou hither? + +VOICE + +O'er the Ilsen-stone. +I peeped at the owl in her nest alone: +How she stared and glared! + +VOICE + +Betake thee to Hell! +Why so fast and so fell? + +VOICE + +She has scored and has flayed me: +See the wounds she has made me! + +WITCHES (_chorus_) + + The way is wide, the way is long: + See, what a wild and crazy throng! + The broom it scratches, the fork it thrusts, + The child is stifled, the mother bursts. +WIZARDS (_semichorus_) + + As doth the snail in shell, we crawl: + Before us go the women all. + When towards the Devil's House we tread, + Woman's a thousand steps ahead. + +OTHER SEMICHORUS + + We do not measure with such care: + Woman in thousand steps is theft. + But howsoe'er she hasten may, + Man in one leap has cleared the way. + +VOICE (_from above_) + +Come on, come on, from Rocky Lake! + +VOICE (_from below_) + +Aloft we'd fain ourselves betake. +We've washed, and are bright as ever you will, +Yet we're eternally sterile still. + +BOTH CHORUSES + + The wind is hushed, the star shoots by. + The dreary moon forsakes the sky; + The magic notes, like spark on spark, + Drizzle, whistling through the dark. + +VOICE (_from below_) + +Halt, there! Ho, there! + +VOICE (_from above_) + +Who calls from the rocky cleft below there? + +VOICE (_below_) + +Take me, too! take me, too! +I'm climbing now three hundred years, +And yet the summit cannot see: +Among my equals I would be. + +BOTH CHORUSES + + Bears the broom and bears the stock, + Bears the fork and bears the buck: + Who cannot raise himself to-night + Is evermore a ruined wight. + +HALF-WITCH (_below_) + +So long I stumble, ill bestead, +And the others are now so far ahead! +At home I've neither rest nor cheer, +And yet I cannot gain them here. + +CHORUS OF WITCHES + + To cheer the witch will salve avail; + A rag will answer for a sail; + Each trough a goodly ship supplies; + He ne'er will fly, who now not flies. + +BOTH CHORUSES + + When round the summit whirls our flight, + Then lower, and on the ground alight; + And far and wide the heather press + With witchhood's swarms of wantonness! + +(_They settle down_.) + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +They crowd and push, they roar and clatter! +They whirl and whistle, pull and chatter! +They shine, and spirt, and stink, and burn! +The true witch-element we learn. +Keep close! or we are parted, in our turn, +Where art thou? + +FAUST (_in the distance_) + +Here! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What! whirled so far astray? +Then house-right I must use, and clear the way. +Make room! Squire Voland comes! Room, gentle rabble, +room! + +Here, Doctor, hold to me: in one jump we'll resume +An easier space, and from the crowd be free: +It's too much, even for the like of me. +Yonder, with special light, there's something shining clearer +Within those bushes; I've a mind to see. +Come on! well slip a little nearer. + +FAUST + +Spirit of Contradiction! On! I'll follow straight. +'Tis planned most wisely, if I judge aright: +We climb the Brocken's top in the Walpurgis-Night, +That arbitrarily, here, ourselves we isolate. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But see, what motley flames among the heather! +There is a lively club together: +In smaller circles one is not alone. + +FAUST + +Better the summit, I must own: +There fire and whirling smoke I see. +They seek the Evil One in wild confusion: +Many enigmas there might find solution. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +But there enigmas also knotted be. +Leave to the multitude their riot! +Here will we house ourselves in quiet. +It is an old, transmitted trade, +That in the greater world the little worlds are made. +I see stark-nude young witches congregate, +And old ones, veiled and hidden shrewdly: +On my account be kind, nor treat them rudely! +The trouble's small, the fun is great. +I hear the noise of instruments attuning,-- +Vile din! yet one must learn to bear the crooning. +Come, come along! It _must_ be, I declare! +I'll go ahead and introduce thee there, +Thine obligation newly earning. +That is no little space: what say'st thou, friend? +Look yonder! thou canst scarcely see the end: +A hundred fires along the ranks are burning. +They dance, they chat, they cook, they drink, they court: +Now where, just tell me, is there better sport? + +FAUST + +Wilt thou, to introduce us to the revel, +Assume the part of wizard or of devil? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I'm mostly used, 'tis true, to go incognito, +But on a gala-day one may his orders show. +The Garter does not deck my suit, +But honored and at home is here the cloven foot. +Perceiv'st thou yonder snail? It cometh, slow and steady; +So delicately its feelers pry, +That it hath scented me already: +I cannot here disguise me, if I try. +But come! we'll go from this fire to a newer: +I am the go-between, and thou the wooer. + +(_To some, who are sitting around dying embers_:) + +Old gentlemen, why at the outskirts? Enter! +I'd praise you if I found you snugly in the centre, +With youth and revel round you like a zone: +You each, at home, are quite enough alone. + +GENERAL + +Say, who would put his trust in nations, +Howe'er for them one may have worked and planned? +For with the people, as with women, +Youth always has the upper hand. + +MINISTER + +They're now too far from what is just and sage. +I praise the old ones, not unduly: +When we were all-in-all, then, truly, +_Then_ was the real golden age. + +PARVENU + +We also were not stupid, either, +And what we should not, often did; +But now all things have from their bases slid, +Just as we meant to hold them fast together. + +AUTHOR + +Who, now, a work of moderate sense will read? +Such works are held as antiquate and mossy; +And as regards the younger folk, indeed, +They never yet have been so pert and saucy. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +(_who all at once appears very old_) + +I feel that men are ripe for Judgment-Day, +Now for the last time I've the witches'-hill ascended: +Since to the lees _my_ cask is drained away, +The world's, as well, must soon be ended. + +HUCKSTER-WITCH + +Ye gentlemen, don't pass me thus! +Let not the chance neglected be! +Behold my wares attentively: +The stock is rare and various. +And yet, there's nothing I've collected-- +No shop, on earth, like this you'll find!-- +Which has not, once, sore hurt inflicted +Upon the world, and on mankind. +No dagger's here, that set not blood to flowing; +No cup, that hath not once, within a healthy frame +Poured speedy death, in poison glowing: +No gems, that have not brought a maid to shame; +No sword, but severed ties for the unwary, +Or from behind struck down the adversary. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Gossip! the times thou badly comprehendest: +What's done has happed--what haps, is done! +'Twere better if for novelties thou sendest: +By such alone can we be won. + +FAUST + +Let me not lose myself in all this pother! +This is a fair, as never was another! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +The whirlpool swirls to get above: +Thou'rt shoved thyself, imagining to shove. + +FAUST + +But who is that? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Note her especially, +Tis Lilith. + +FAUST + +Who? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Adam's first wife is she. +Beware the lure within her lovely tresses, +The splendid sole adornment of her hair! +When she succeeds therewith a youth to snare, +Not soon again she frees him from her jesses. + +FAUST + +Those two, the old one with the young one sitting, +They've danced already more than fitting. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +No rest to-night for young or old! +They start another dance: come now, let us take hold! + +FAUST (_dancing with the young witch_) + + A lovely dream once came to me; + I then beheld an apple-tree, + And there two fairest apples shone: + They lured me so, I climbed thereon. + +THE FAIR ONE + + Apples have been desired by you, + Since first in Paradise they grew; + And I am moved with joy, to know + That such within my garden grow. + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_dancing with the old one_) + + A dissolute dream once came to me: + Therein I saw a cloven tree, + Which had a-----------------; + Yet,-----as 'twas, I fancied it. + +THE OLD ONE + + I offer here my best salute + Unto the knight with cloven foot! + Let him a-----------prepare, + If him------------------does not scare. + +PROKTOPHANTASMIST + +Accursed folk! How dare you venture thus? +Had you not, long since, demonstration +That ghosts can't stand on ordinary foundation? +And now you even dance, like one of us! + +THE FAIR ONE (_dancing_) + +Why does he come, then, to our ball? + +FAUST (_dancing_) + +O, everywhere on him you fall! +When others dance, he weighs the matter: +If he can't every step bechatter, +Then 'tis the same as were the step not made; +But if you forwards go, his ire is most displayed. +If you would whirl in regular gyration +As he does in his dull old mill, +He'd show, at any rate, good-will,-- +Especially if you heard and heeded his hortation. + +PROKTOPHANTASMIST + +You still are here? Nay, 'tis a thing unheard! +Vanish, at once! We've said the enlightening word. +The pack of devils by no rules is daunted: +We are so wise, and yet is Tegel haunted. +To clear the folly out, how have I swept and stirred! +Twill ne'er be clean: why, 'tis a thing unheard! + +THE FAIR ONE + +Then cease to bore us at our ball! + +PROKTOPHANTASMIST + +I tell you, spirits, to your face, +I give to spirit-despotism no place; +My spirit cannot practise it at all. + +(_The dance continues_) + +Naught will succeed, I see, amid such revels; +Yet something from a tour I always save, +And hope, before my last step to the grave, +To overcome the poets and the devils. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +He now will seat him in the nearest puddle; +The solace this, whereof he's most assured: +And when upon his rump the leeches hang and fuddle, +He'll be of spirits and of Spirit cured. + +(_To_ FAUST, _who has left the dance_:) + +Wherefore forsakest thou the lovely maiden, +That in the dance so sweetly sang? + +FAUST + +Ah! in the midst of it there sprang +A red mouse from her mouth--sufficient reason. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +That's nothing! One must not so squeamish be; +So the mouse was not gray, enough for thee. +Who'd think of that in love's selected season? + +FAUST + +Then saw I--. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +What? + +FAUST + +Mephisto, seest thou there, +Alone and far, a girl most pale and fair? +She falters on, her way scarce knowing, +As if with fettered feet that stay her going. +I must confess, it seems to me +As if my kindly Margaret were she. + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Let the thing be! All thence have evil drawn: +It is a magic shape, a lifeless eidolon. +Such to encounter is not good: +Their blank, set stare benumbs the human blood, +And one is almost turned to stone. +Medusa's tale to thee is known. + +FAUST + +Forsooth, the eyes they are of one whom, dying, +No hand with loving pressure closed; +That is the breast whereon I once was lying,-- +The body sweet, beside which I reposed! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Tis magic all, thou fool, seduced so easily! +Unto each man his love she seems to be. + +FAUST + +The woe, the rapture, so ensnare me, +That from her gaze I cannot tear me! +And, strange! around her fairest throat +A single scarlet band is gleaming, +No broader than a knife-blade seeming! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Quite right! The mark I also note. +Her head beneath her arm she'll sometimes carry; +Twas Perseus lopped it, her old adversary. +Thou crav'st the same illusion still! +Come, let us mount this little hill; +The Prater shows no livelier stir, +And, if they've not bewitched my sense, +I verily see a theatre. +What's going on? + +SERVIBILIS + 'Twill shortly recommence: +A new performance--'tis the last of seven. +To give that number is the custom here: +'Twas by a Dilettante written, +And Dilettanti in the parts appear. +That now I vanish, pardon, I entreat you! +As Dilettante I the curtain raise. + +MEPHISTOPHELES +When I upon the Blocksberg meet you, +I find it good: for that's your proper place. + + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXII + + +WALPURGIS-NIGHT'S DREAM + +OBERON AND TITANIA's GOLDEN WEDDING + +INTERMEZZO + +MANAGER + +Sons of Mieding, rest to-day! +Needless your machinery: +Misty vale and mountain gray, +That is all the scenery. + +HERALD + +That the wedding golden be. +Must fifty years be rounded: +But _the Golden_ give to me, +When the strife's compounded. + +OBERON + +Spirits, if you're here, be seen-- +Show yourselves, delighted! +Fairy king and fairy queen, +They are newly plighted. + +PUCK + +Cometh Puck, and, light of limb, +Whisks and whirls in measure: +Come a hundred after him, +To share with him the pleasure. + +ARIEL + +Ariel's song is heavenly-pure, +His tones are sweet and rare ones: +Though ugly faces he allure, +Yet he allures the fair ones. + +OBERON + +Spouses, who would fain agree, +Learn how we were mated! +If your pairs would loving be, +First be separated! + +TITANIA + +If her whims the wife control, +And the man berate her, +Take him to the Northern Pole, +And her to the Equator! + +ORCHESTRA. TUTTI. + +_Fortissimo_. + +Snout of fly, mosquito-bill, +And kin of all conditions, +Frog in grass, and cricket-trill,-- +These are the musicians! + +SOLO + +See the bagpipe on our track! +'Tis the soap-blown bubble: +Hear the _schnecke-schnicke-schnack_ +Through his nostrils double! + +SPIRIT, JUST GROWING INTO FORM + +Spider's foot and paunch of toad, +And little wings--we know 'em! +A little creature 'twill not be, +But yet, a little poem. + +A LITTLE COUPLE + +Little step and lofty leap +Through honey-dew and fragrance: +You'll never mount the airy steep +With all your tripping vagrance. + +INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER + +Is't but masquerading play? +See I with precision? +Oberon, the beauteous fay, +Meets, to-night, my vision! + +ORTHODOX + +Not a claw, no tail I see! +And yet, beyond a cavil, +Like "the Gods of Greece," must he +Also be a devil. + +NORTHERN ARTIST + +I only seize, with sketchy air, +Some outlines of the tourney; +Yet I betimes myself prepare +For my Italian journey. + +PURIST + +My bad luck brings me here, alas! +How roars the orgy louder! +And of the witches in the mass, +But only two wear powder. + +YOUNG WITCH + +Powder becomes, like petticoat, +A gray and wrinkled noddy; +So I sit naked on my goat, +And show a strapping body. + +MATRON + +We've too much tact and policy +To rate with gibes a scolder; +Yet, young and tender though you be, +I hope to see you moulder. + +LEADER OF THE BAND + +Fly-snout and mosquito-bill, +Don't swarm so round the Naked! +Frog in grass and cricket-trill, +Observe the time, and make it! + +WEATHERCOCK (_towards one side_) + +Society to one's desire! +Brides only, and the sweetest! +And bachelors of youth and fire. +And prospects the completest! + +WEATHERCOCK (_towards the other side_) + +And if the Earth don't open now +To swallow up each ranter, +Why, then will I myself, I vow, +Jump into hell instanter! + +XENIES + +Us as little insects see! +With sharpest nippers flitting, +That our Papa Satan we +May honor as is fitting. + +HENNINGS + +How, in crowds together massed, +They are jesting, shameless! +They will even say, at last, +That their hearts are blameless. + +MUSAGETES + +Among this witches' revelry +His way one gladly loses; +And, truly, it would easier be +Than to command the Muses. + +CI-DEVANT GENIUS OF THE AGE + +The proper folks one's talents laud: +Come on, and none shall pass us! +The Blocksberg has a summit broad, +Like Germany's Parnassus. + +INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER + +Say, who's the stiff and pompous man? +He walks with haughty paces: +He snuffles all he snuffle can: +"He scents the Jesuits' traces." + +CRANE + +Both clear and muddy streams, for me +Are good to fish and sport in: +And thus the pious man you see +With even devils consorting. + +WORLDLING + +Yes, for the pious, I suspect, +All instruments are fitting; +And on the Blocksberg they erect +Full many a place of meeting. + +DANCER + +A newer chorus now succeeds! +I hear the distant drumming. +"Don't be disturbed! 'tis, in the reeds, +The bittern's changeless booming." + +DANCING-MASTER + +How each his legs in nimble trip +Lifts up, and makes a clearance! +The crooked jump, the heavy skip, +Nor care for the appearance. + +GOOD FELLOW + +The rabble by such hate are held, +To maim and slay delights them: +As Orpheus' lyre the brutes compelled, +The bagpipe here unites them. + +DOGMATIST + +I'll not be led by any lure +Of doubts or critic-cavils: +The Devil must be something, sure,-- +Or how should there be devils? + +IDEALIST + +This once, the fancy wrought in me +Is really too despotic: +Forsooth, if I am all I see, +I must be idiotic! + +REALIST + +This racking fuss on every hand, +It gives me great vexation; +And, for the first time, here I stand +On insecure foundation. + +SUPERNATURALIST + +With much delight I see the play, +And grant to these their merits, +Since from the devils I also may +Infer the better spirits. + +SCEPTIC + +The flame they follow, on and on, +And think they're near the treasure: +But _Devil_ rhymes with _Doubt_ alone, +So I am here with pleasure. + +LEADER OF THE BAND + +Frog in green, and cricket-trill. +Such dilettants!--perdition! +Fly-snout and mosquito-bill,-- +Each one's a fine musician! + +THE ADROIT + +_Sans souci_, we call the clan +Of merry creatures so, then; +Go a-foot no more we can, +And on our heads we go, then. + +THE AWKWARD + +Once many a bit we sponged, but now, +God help us! that is done with: +Our shoes are all danced out, we trow, +We've but naked soles to run with. + +WILL-O'-THE WISPS + +From the marshes we appear, +Where we originated; +Yet in the ranks, at once, we're here +As glittering gallants rated. + +SHOOTING-STAR + +Darting hither from the sky, +In star and fire light shooting, +Cross-wise now in grass I lie: +Who'll help me to my footing? + +THE HEAVY FELLOWS + +Room! and round about us, room! +Trodden are the grasses: +Spirits also, spirits come, +And they are bulky masses. + +PUCK + +Enter not so stall-fed quite, +Like elephant-calves about one! +And the heaviest weight to-night +Be Puck, himself, the stout one! + +ARIEL + +If loving Nature at your back, +Or Mind, the wings uncloses, +Follow up my airy track +To the mount of roses! + +ORCHESTRA + +_pianissimo_ +Cloud and trailing mist o'erhead +Are now illuminated: +Air in leaves, and wind in reed, +And all is dissipated. + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXIII + + +DREARY DAY + +A FIELD + +FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES + +FAUST + +In misery! In despair! Long wretchedly astray on the face of the earth, +and now imprisoned! That gracious, ill-starred creature shut in a +dungeon as a criminal, and given up to fearful torments! To this has it +come! to this!--Treacherous, contemptible spirit, and thou hast +concealed it from me!--Stand, then,--stand! Roll the devilish eyes +wrathfully in thy head! Stand and defy me with thine intolerable +presence! Imprisoned! In irretrievable misery! Delivered up to evil +spirits, and to condemning, unfeeling Man! And thou hast lulled me, +meanwhile, with the most insipid dissipations, hast concealed from me +her increasing wretchedness, and suffered her to go helplessly to ruin! +[Illustration: _Roll the devilish eyes wrathfully in thy head_] + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +She is not the first. + +FAUST + +Dog! Abominable monster! Transform him, thou Infinite Spirit! transform +the reptile again into his dog-shape? in which it pleased him often at +night to scamper on before me, to roll himself at the feet of the +unsuspecting wanderer, and hang upon his shoulders when he fell! +Transform him again into his favorite likeness, that he may crawl upon +his belly in the dust before me,--that I may trample him, the outlawed, +under foot! Not the first! O woe! woe which no human soul can grasp, +that more than one being should sink into the depths of this +misery,--that the first, in its writhing death-agony under the eyes of +the Eternal Forgiver, did not expiate the guilt of all others! The +misery of this single one pierces to the very marrow of my life; and +thou art calmly grinning at the fate of thousands! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Now we are already again at the end of our wits, where the understanding +of you men runs wild. Why didst thou enter into fellowship with us, if +thou canst not carry it out? Wilt fly, and art not secure against +dizziness? Did we thrust ourselves upon thee, or thou thyself upon us? + +FAUST + +Gnash not thus thy devouring teeth at me? It fills me with horrible +disgust. Mighty, glorious Spirit, who hast vouchsafed to me Thine +apparition, who knowest my heart and my soul, why fetter me to the +felon-comrade, who feeds on mischief and gluts himself with ruin? + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +Hast thou done? + +FAUST + +Rescue her, or woe to thee! The fearfullest curse be upon thee for +thousands of ages! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I cannot loosen the bonds of the Avenger, nor undo his bolts. Rescue +her? Who was it that plunged her into ruin? I, or thou? + +(FAUST _looks around wildly_.) + +Wilt thou grasp the thunder? Well that it has not been given to you, +miserable mortals! To crush to pieces the innocent respondent--that is +the tyrant-fashion of relieving one's self in embarrassments. + +FAUST + +Take me thither! She shall be free! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +And the danger to which thou wilt expose thyself? Know that the guilt of +blood, from thy hand, still lies upon the town! Avenging spirits hover +over the spot where the victim fell, and lie in wait for the returning +murderer. + +FAUST + +That, too, from thee? Murder and death of a world upon thee, monster! +Take me thither, I say, and liberate her! + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I will convey thee there; and hear, what I can do! Have I all the power +in Heaven and on Earth? I will becloud the jailer's senses: get +possession of the key, and lead her forth with human hand! I will keep +watch: the magic steeds are ready, I will carry you off. So much is in +my power. + +FAUST + +Up and away! + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXIV + + +NIGHT + +OPEN FIELD + +(FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES _speeding onward on black horses_.) + + +FAUST + +What weave they there round the raven-stone? + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +I know not what they are brewing and doing. + + +FAUST + +Soaring up, sweeping down, bowing and bending! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +A witches'-guild. + + +FAUST + +They scatter, devote and doom! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +On! on! + +[Illustration] + + + + +XXV + + +DUNGEON + +FAUST + +(_with a bunch of keys and a lamp, before an iron door_) + +A shudder, long unfelt, comes o'er me; +Mankind's collected woe o'erwhelms me, here. +She dwells within the dark, damp walls before me, +And all her crime was a delusion dear! +What! I delay to free her? +I dread, once again to see her? +On! my shrinking but lingers Death more near. + +(_He grasps the lock: the sound of singing is heard inside_.) + + _My mother, the harlot, + Who put me to death; + My father, the varlet, + Who eaten me hath! + Little sister, so good, + Laid my bones in the wood, + In the damp moss and clay:_ + _Then was I a beautiful bird o' the wood; + Fly away! Fly away_! + +FAUST _(unlocking)_ + +She does not dream her lover listens near; +That he the rattling chain, the rustling straw, can hear. + +_(He enters_.) + +MARGARET (_hiding herself on the pallet_) +Woe! woe! They come. O death of bitterness! + +FAUST (_whispering_) +Hush! hush! The hour is come that frees thee. + +MARGARET (_throwing herself before him_) +Art thou a man, then pity my distress! + +FAUST +Thy cries will wake the guards, and they will seize thee! +(_He takes hold of the fetters to unlock them_.) + +MARGARET (_on her knees_) + +Who, headsman! unto thee such power +Over me could give? +Thou'rt come for me at midnight-hour: +Have mercy on me, let me live! +Is't not soon enough when morning chime has run? + +(_She rises_.) + +And I am yet so young, so young! +And now Death comes, and ruin! +I, too, was fair, and that was my undoing. +My love was near, but now he's far; +Torn lies the wreath, scattered the blossoms are. +Seize me not thus so violently! +Spare me! What have I done to thee? +Let me not vainly entreat thee! +I never chanced, in all my days, to meet thee! + + +FAUST + +Shall I outlive this misery? + + +MARGARET + +Now am I wholly in thy might. +But let me suckle, first, my baby! +I blissed it all this livelong night; +They took 't away, to vex me, maybe, +And now they say I killed the child outright. +And never shall I be glad again. +They sing songs about me! 'tis bad of the folk to do it! +There's an old story has the same refrain; +Who bade them so construe it? + + +FAUST (_falling upon his knees_) + +Here lieth one who loves thee ever, +The thraldom of thy woe to sever. + + +MARGARET (_flinging herself beside him_) + +O let us kneel, and call the Saints to hide us! +Under the steps beside us, +The threshold under, +Hell heaves in thunder! +The Evil One +With terrible wrath +Seeketh a path +His prey to discover! + +FAUST (_aloud_) + +Margaret! Margaret! + + +MARGARET (_attentively listening_) + +That was the voice of my lover! + +(_She springs to her feet: the fetters fall off_.) + +Where is he? I heard him call me. +I am free! No one shall enthrall me. +To his neck will I fly, +On his bosom lie! +On the threshold he stood, and _Margaret_! calling, +Midst of Hell's howling and noises appalling, +Midst of the wrathful, infernal derision, +I knew the sweet sound of the voice of the vision! + + +FAUST + +'Tis I! + +MARGARET + + 'Tis thou! O, say it once again! + + (_Clasping him_.) + +'Tis he! 'tis he! Where now is all my pain? +The anguish of the dungeon, and the chain? +'Tis thou! Thou comest to save me, +And I am saved!-- +Again the street I see +Where first I looked on thee; +And the garden, brightly blooming, +Where I and Martha wait thy coming. + + +FAUST (_struggling to leave_) + +Come! Come with me! + + +MARGARET + + Delay, now! +So fain I stay, when thou delayest! + + (_Caressing him_.) + + +FAUST + +Away, now! +If longer here thou stayest, +We shall be made to dearly rue it. + +MARGARET + +Kiss me!--canst no longer do it? +My friend, so short a time thou'rt missing, +And hast unlearned thy kissing? +Why is my heart so anxious, on thy breast? +Where once a heaven thy glances did create me, +A heaven thy loving words expressed, +And thou didst kiss, as thou wouldst suffocate me-- +Kiss me! +Or I'll kiss thee! + +(_She embraces him_.) + +Ah, woe! thy lips are chill, +And still. +How changed in fashion +Thy passion! +Who has done me this ill? + +(_She turns away from him_.) + +FAUST + +Come, follow me! My darling, be more bold: +I'll clasp thee, soon, with warmth a thousand-fold; +But follow now! 'Tis all I beg of thee. + +MARGARET (_turning to him_) + +And is it thou? Thou, surely, certainly? + +FAUST + +'Tis I! Come on! + +MARGARET + +Thou wilt unloose my chain, +And in thy lap wilt take me once again. +How comes it that thou dost not shrink from me?-- +Say, dost thou know, my friend, whom thou mak'st free? + +FAUST + +Come! come! The night already vanisheth. + + +MARGARET + +My mother have I put to death; +I've drowned the baby born to thee. +Was it not given to thee and me? +Thee, too!--'Tis thou! It scarcely true doth seem-- +Give me thy hand! 'Tis not a dream! +Thy dear, dear hand!--But, ah, 'tis wet! +Why, wipe it off! Methinks that yet +There's blood thereon. +Ah, God! what hast thou done? +Nay, sheathe thy sword at last! +Do not affray me! + + +FAUST + +O, let the past be past! +Thy words will slay me! + + +MARGARET + +No, no! Thou must outlive us. +Now I'll tell thee the graves to give us: +Thou must begin to-morrow +The work of sorrow! +The best place give to my mother, +Then close at her side my brother, +And me a little away, +But not too very far, I pray! +And here, on my right breast, my baby lay! +Nobody else will lie beside me!-- +Ah, within thine arms to hide me, +That was a sweet and a gracious bliss, +But no more, no more can I attain it! +I would force myself on thee and constrain it, +And it seems thou repellest my kiss: +And yet 'tis thou, so good, so kind to see! + + +FAUST + +If thou feel'st it is I, then come with me! + + +MARGARET + +Out yonder? + + +FAUST + +To freedom. + + +MARGARET + + If the grave is there, +Death lying in wait, then come! +From here to eternal rest: +No further step--no, no! +Thou goest away! O Henry, if I could go! + + +FAUST + +Thou canst! Just will it! Open stands the door. + + +MARGARET + +I dare not go: there's no hope any more. +Why should I fly? They'll still my steps waylay! +It is so wretched, forced to beg my living, +And a bad conscience sharper misery giving! +It is so wretched, to be strange, forsaken, +And I'd still be followed and taken! + + +FAUST + +I'll stay with thee. + + +MARGARET + +Be quick! Be quick! +Save thy perishing child! +Away! Follow the ridge +Up by the brook, + +[Illustration: _=If the grave is there, +Death lying in wait, then come=_!] + +Over the bridge, +Into the wood, +To the left, where the plank is placed +In the pool! +Seize it in haste! +'Tis trying to rise, +'Tis struggling still! +Save it! Save it! + + +FAUST + +Recall thy wandering will! +One step, and thou art free at last! + + +MARGARET + +If the mountain we had only passed! +There sits my mother upon a stone,-- +I feel an icy shiver! +There sits my mother upon a stone, +And her head is wagging ever. +She beckons, she nods not, her heavy head falls o'er; +She slept so long that she wakes no more. +She slept, while we were caressing: +Ah, those were the days of blessing! + + +FAUST + +Here words and prayers are nothing worth; +I'll venture, then, to bear thee forth. + + +MARGARET + +No--let me go! I'll suffer no force! +Grasp me not so murderously! +I've done, else, all things for the love of thee. + + +FAUST + +The day dawns: Dearest! Dearest! + +MARGARET + +Day? Yes, the day comes,--the last day breaks for me! +My wedding-day it was to be! +Tell no one thou has been with Margaret! +Woe for my garland! The chances +Are over--'tis all in vain! +We shall meet once again, +But not at the dances! +The crowd is thronging, no word is spoken: +The square below +And the streets overflow: +The death-bell tolls, the wand is broken. +I am seized, and bound, and delivered-- +Shoved to the block--they give the sign! +Now over each neck has quivered +The blade that is quivering over mine. +Dumb lies the world like the grave! + +FAUST + +O had I ne'er been born! + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_appears outside_) + +Off! or you're lost ere morn. +Useless talking, delaying and praying! +My horses are neighing: +The morning twilight is near. + +MARGARET + +What rises up from the threshold here? +He! he! suffer him not! +What does he want in this holy spot? +He seeks me! + + +FAUST + +Thou shalt live. + +MARGARET + +Judgment of God! myself to thee I give. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + +Come! or I'll leave her in the lurch, and thee! + + +MARGARET + +Thine am I, Father! rescue me! +Ye angels, holy cohorts, guard me, +Camp around, and from evil ward me! +Henry! I shudder to think of thee. + + +MEPHISTOPHELES + +She is judged! + + +VOICE (_from above_) + + She is saved! + + +MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) + + Hither to me! + +(_He disappears with_ FAUST.) + + +VOICE (_from within, dying away_) + +Henry! Henry! + +[illustration] + +[Illustration] + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Faust, by Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAUST *** + +***** This file should be named 14591.txt or 14591.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/5/9/14591/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Chuck Greif and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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