--- /dev/null
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Faust, by Goethe\r
+\r
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with\r
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or\r
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included\r
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net\r
+\r
+\r
+Title: Faust\r
+\r
+Author: Goethe\r
+\r
+Release Date: December 25, 2004 [EBook #14460]\r
+\r
+Language: English\r
+\r
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1\r
+\r
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAUST ***\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Bidwell and the PG Online\r
+Distributed Proofreading Team\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+FAUST\r
+\r
+\r
+A TRAGEDY\r
+\r
+TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN\r
+\r
+OF\r
+\r
+GOETHE\r
+\r
+\r
+WITH NOTES\r
+\r
+BY\r
+\r
+CHARLES T BROOKS\r
+\r
+\r
+SEVENTH EDITION.\r
+\r
+BOSTON\r
+TICKNOR AND FIELDS\r
+\r
+MDCCCLXVIII.\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856,\r
+by CHARLES T. BROOKS,\r
+In the Clerk's Office of the District Court\r
+of the District of Rhode Island.\r
+\r
+UNIVERSITY PRESS:\r
+WELCH, BIGELOW, AND COMPANY,\r
+CAMBRIDGE.\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.\r
+\r
+\r
+Perhaps some apology ought to be given to English scholars, that is, those\r
+who do not know German, (to those, at least, who do not know what sort of\r
+a thing Faust is in the original,) for offering another translation to the\r
+public, of a poem which has been already translated, not only in a literal\r
+prose form, but also, twenty or thirty times, in metre, and sometimes with\r
+great spirit, beauty, and power.\r
+\r
+The author of the present version, then, has no knowledge that a rendering\r
+of this wonderful poem into the exact and ever-changing metre of the\r
+original has, until now, been so much as attempted. To name only one\r
+defect, the very best versions which he has seen neglect to follow the\r
+exquisite artist in the evidently planned and orderly intermixing of\r
+_male_ and _female_ rhymes, _i.e._ rhymes which fall on the last syllable\r
+and those which fall on the last but one. Now, every careful student of\r
+the versification of Faust must feel and see that Goethe did not\r
+intersperse the one kind of rhyme with the other, at random, as those\r
+translators do; who, also, give the female rhyme (on which the vivacity of\r
+dialogue and description often so much depends,) in so small a proportion.\r
+\r
+A similar criticism might be made of their liberty in neglecting Goethe's\r
+method of alternating different measures with each other.\r
+\r
+It seems as if, in respect to metre, at least, they had asked themselves,\r
+how would Goethe have written or shaped this in English, had that been his\r
+native language, instead of seeking _con amore_ (and _con fidelità_) as\r
+they should have done, to reproduce, both in spirit and in form, the\r
+movement, so free and yet orderly, of the singularly endowed and\r
+accomplished poet whom they undertook to represent.\r
+\r
+As to the objections which Hayward and some of his reviewers have\r
+instituted in advance against the possibility of a good and faithful\r
+metrical translation of a poem like Faust, they seem to the present\r
+translator full of paradox and sophistry. For instance, take this\r
+assertion of one of the reviewers: "The sacred and mysterious union of\r
+thought with verse, twin-born and immortally wedded from the moment of\r
+their common birth, can never be understood by those who desire verse\r
+translations of good poetry." If the last part of this statement had read\r
+"by those who can be contented with _prose_ translations of good poetry,"\r
+the position would have been nearer the truth. This much we might well\r
+admit, that, if the alternative were either to have a poem like Faust in a\r
+metre different and glaringly different from the original, or to have it\r
+in simple and strong prose, then the latter alternative would be the one\r
+every tasteful and feeling scholar would prefer; but surely to every one\r
+who can read the original or wants to know how this great song _sung\r
+itself_ (as Carlyle says) out of Goethe's soul, a mere prose rendering\r
+must be, comparatively, a _corpus mortuum._\r
+\r
+The translator most heartily dissents from Hayward's assertion that a\r
+translator of Faust "must sacrifice either metre or meaning." At least he\r
+flatters himself that he has made, in the main, (not a compromise between\r
+meaning and melody, though in certain instances he may have fallen into\r
+that, but) a combination of the meaning with the melody, which latter is\r
+so important, so vital a part of the lyric poem's meaning, in any worthy\r
+sense. "No poetic translation," says Hayward's reviewer, already quoted,\r
+"can give the rhythm and rhyme of the original; it can only substitute the\r
+rhythm and rhyme of the translator." One might just as well say "no\r
+_prose_ translation can give the _sense and spirit_ of the original; it\r
+can only substitute the _sense and spirit of the words and phrases of the\r
+translator's language_;" and then, these two assertions balancing each\r
+other, there will remain in the metrical translator's favor, that he may\r
+come as near to giving both the letter and the spirit, as the effects of\r
+the Babel dispersion will allow.\r
+\r
+As to the original creation, which he has attempted here to reproduce, the\r
+translator might say something, but prefers leaving his readers to the\r
+poet himself, as revealed in the poem, and to the various commentaries of\r
+which we have some accounts, at least, in English. A French translator of\r
+the poem speaks in his introduction as follows: "This Faust, conceived by\r
+him in his youth, completed in ripe age, the idea of which he carried with\r
+him through all the commotions of his life, as Camoens bore his poem with\r
+him through the waves, this Faust contains him entire. The thirst for\r
+knowledge and the martyrdom of doubt, had they not tormented his early\r
+years? Whence came to him the thought of taking refuge in a supernatural\r
+realm, of appealing to invisible powers, which plunged him, for a\r
+considerable time, into the dreams of Illuminati and made him even invent\r
+a religion? This irony of Mephistopheles, who carries on so audacious a\r
+game with the weakness and the desires of man, is it not the mocking,\r
+scornful side of the poet's spirit, a leaning to sullenness, which can be\r
+traced even into the earliest years of his life, a bitter leaven thrown\r
+into a strong soul forever by early satiety? The character of Faust\r
+especially, the man whose burning, untiring heart can neither enjoy\r
+fortune nor do without it, who gives himself unconditionally and watches\r
+himself with mistrust, who unites the enthusiasm of passion and the\r
+dejectedness of despair, is not this an eloquent opening up of the most\r
+secret and tumultuous part of the poet's soul? And now, to complete the\r
+image of his inner life, he has added the transcendingly sweet person of\r
+Margaret, an exalted reminiscence of a young girl, by whom, at the age of\r
+fourteen, he thought himself beloved, whose image ever floated round him,\r
+and has contributed some traits to each of his heroines. This heavenly\r
+surrender of a simple, good, and tender heart contrasts wonderfully with\r
+the sensual and gloomy passion of the lover, who, in the midst of his\r
+love-dreams, is persecuted by the phantoms of his imagination and by the\r
+nightmares of thought, with those sorrows of a soul, which is crushed, but\r
+not extinguished, which is tormented by the invincible want of happiness\r
+and the bitter feeling, how hard a thing it is to receive or to bestow."\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+DEDICATION.[1]\r
+\r
+Once more ye waver dreamily before me,\r
+Forms that so early cheered my troubled eyes!\r
+To hold you fast doth still my heart implore me?\r
+Still bid me clutch the charm that lures and flies?\r
+Ye crowd around! come, then, hold empire o'er me,\r
+As from the mist and haze of thought ye rise;\r
+The magic atmosphere, your train enwreathing,\r
+Through my thrilled bosom youthful bliss is breathing.\r
+\r
+Ye bring with you the forms of hours Elysian,\r
+And shades of dear ones rise to meet my gaze;\r
+First Love and Friendship steal upon my vision\r
+Like an old tale of legendary days;\r
+Sorrow renewed, in mournful repetition,\r
+Runs through life's devious, labyrinthine ways;\r
+And, sighing, names the good (by Fortune cheated\r
+Of blissful hours!) who have before me fleeted.\r
+\r
+These later songs of mine, alas! will never\r
+Sound in their ears to whom the first were sung!\r
+Scattered like dust, the friendly throng forever!\r
+Mute the first echo that so grateful rung!\r
+To the strange crowd I sing, whose very favor\r
+Like chilling sadness on my heart is flung;\r
+And all that kindled at those earlier numbers\r
+Roams the wide earth or in its bosom slumbers.\r
+\r
+And now I feel a long-unwonted yearning\r
+For that calm, pensive spirit-realm, to-day;\r
+Like an Aeolian lyre, (the breeze returning,)\r
+Floats in uncertain tones my lisping lay;\r
+Strange awe comes o'er me, tear on tear falls burning,\r
+The rigid heart to milder mood gives way!\r
+What I possess I see afar off lying,\r
+And what I lost is real and undying.\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+PRELUDE\r
+\r
+IN THE THEATRE.\r
+\r
+\r
+ _Manager. Dramatic Poet. Merry Person._\r
+\r
+_Manager_. You who in trouble and distress\r
+Have both held fast your old allegiance,\r
+What think ye? here in German regions\r
+Our enterprise may hope success?\r
+To please the crowd my purpose has been steady,\r
+Because they live and let one live at least.\r
+The posts are set, the boards are laid already,\r
+And every one is looking for a feast.\r
+They sit, with lifted brows, composed looks wearing,\r
+Expecting something that shall set them staring.\r
+I know the public palate, that's confest;\r
+Yet never pined so for a sound suggestion;\r
+True, they are not accustomed to the best,\r
+But they have read a dreadful deal, past question.\r
+How shall we work to make all fresh and new,\r
+Acceptable and profitable, too?\r
+For sure I love to see the torrent boiling,\r
+When towards our booth they crowd to find a place,\r
+Now rolling on a space and then recoiling,\r
+Then squeezing through the narrow door of grace:\r
+Long before dark each one his hard-fought station\r
+In sight of the box-office window takes,\r
+And as, round bakers' doors men crowd to escape starvation,\r
+For tickets here they almost break their necks.\r
+This wonder, on so mixed a mass, the Poet\r
+Alone can work; to-day, my friend, O, show it!\r
+\r
+_Poet_. Oh speak not to me of that motley ocean,\r
+Whose roar and greed the shuddering spirit chill!\r
+Hide from my sight that billowy commotion\r
+That draws us down the whirlpool 'gainst our will.\r
+No, lead me to that nook of calm devotion,\r
+Where blooms pure joy upon the Muses' hill;\r
+Where love and friendship aye create and cherish,\r
+With hand divine, heart-joys that never perish.\r
+Ah! what, from feeling's deepest fountain springing,\r
+Scarce from the stammering lips had faintly passed,\r
+Now, hopeful, venturing forth, now shyly clinging,\r
+To the wild moment's cry a prey is cast.\r
+Oft when for years the brain had heard it ringing\r
+It comes in full and rounded shape at last.\r
+What shines, is born but for the moment's pleasure;\r
+The genuine leaves posterity a treasure.\r
+\r
+_Merry Person_. Posterity! I'm sick of hearing of it;\r
+Supposing I the future age would profit,\r
+Who then would furnish ours with fun?\r
+For it must have it, ripe and mellow;\r
+The presence of a fine young fellow,\r
+Is cheering, too, methinks, to any one.\r
+Whoso can pleasantly communicate,\r
+Will not make war with popular caprices,\r
+For, as the circle waxes great,\r
+The power his word shall wield increases.\r
+Come, then, and let us now a model see,\r
+Let Phantasy with all her various choir,\r
+Sense, reason, passion, sensibility,\r
+But, mark me, folly too! the scene inspire.\r
+\r
+_Manager_. But the great point is action! Every one\r
+Comes as spectator, and the show's the fun.\r
+Let but the plot be spun off fast and thickly,\r
+So that the crowd shall gape in broad surprise,\r
+Then have you made a wide impression quickly,\r
+You are the man they'll idolize.\r
+The mass can only be impressed by masses;\r
+Then each at last picks out his proper part.\r
+Give much, and then to each one something passes,\r
+And each one leaves the house with happy heart.\r
+Have you a piece, give it at once in pieces!\r
+Such a ragout your fame increases;\r
+It costs as little pains to play as to invent.\r
+But what is gained, if you a whole present?\r
+Your public picks it presently to pieces.\r
+\r
+_Poet_. You do not feel how mean a trade like that must be!\r
+In the true Artist's eyes how false and hollow!\r
+Our genteel botchers, well I see,\r
+Have given the maxims that you follow.\r
+\r
+_Manager_. Such charges pass me like the idle wind;\r
+A man who has right work in mind\r
+Must choose the instruments most fitting.\r
+Consider what soft wood you have for splitting,\r
+And keep in view for whom you write!\r
+If this one from _ennui_ seeks flight,\r
+That other comes full from the groaning table,\r
+Or, the worst case of all to cite,\r
+From reading journals is for thought unable.\r
+Vacant and giddy, all agog for wonder,\r
+As to a masquerade they wing their way;\r
+The ladies give themselves and all their precious plunder\r
+And without wages help us play.\r
+On your poetic heights what dream comes o'er you?\r
+What glads a crowded house? Behold\r
+Your patrons in array before you!\r
+One half are raw, the other cold.\r
+One, after this play, hopes to play at cards,\r
+One a wild night to spend beside his doxy chooses,\r
+Poor fools, why court ye the regards,\r
+For such a set, of the chaste muses?\r
+I tell you, give them more and ever more and more,\r
+And then your mark you'll hardly stray from ever;\r
+To mystify be your endeavor,\r
+To satisfy is labor sore....\r
+What ails you? Are you pleased or pained? What notion----\r
+\r
+_Poet_. Go to, and find thyself another slave!\r
+What! and the lofty birthright Nature gave,\r
+The noblest talent Heaven to man has lent,\r
+Thou bid'st the Poet fling to folly's ocean!\r
+How does he stir each deep emotion?\r
+How does he conquer every element?\r
+But by the tide of song that from his bosom springs,\r
+And draws into his heart all living things?\r
+When Nature's hand, in endless iteration,\r
+The thread across the whizzing spindle flings,\r
+When the complex, monotonous creation\r
+Jangles with all its million strings:\r
+Who, then, the long, dull series animating,\r
+Breaks into rhythmic march the soulless round?\r
+And, to the law of All each member consecrating,\r
+Bids one majestic harmony resound?\r
+Who bids the tempest rage with passion's power?\r
+The earnest soul with evening-redness glow?\r
+Who scatters vernal bud and summer flower\r
+Along the path where loved ones go?\r
+Who weaves each green leaf in the wind that trembles\r
+To form the wreath that merit's brow shall crown?\r
+Who makes Olympus fast? the gods assembles?\r
+The power of manhood in the Poet shown.\r
+\r
+_Merry Person_. Come, then, put forth these noble powers,\r
+And, Poet, let thy path of flowers\r
+Follow a love-adventure's winding ways.\r
+One comes and sees by chance, one burns, one stays,\r
+And feels the gradual, sweet entangling!\r
+The pleasure grows, then comes a sudden jangling,\r
+Then rapture, then distress an arrow plants,\r
+And ere one dreams of it, lo! _there_ is a romance.\r
+Give us a drama in this fashion!\r
+Plunge into human life's full sea of passion!\r
+Each lives it, few its meaning ever guessed,\r
+Touch where you will, 'tis full of interest.\r
+Bright shadows fleeting o'er a mirror,\r
+A spark of truth and clouds of error,\r
+By means like these a drink is brewed\r
+To cheer and edify the multitude.\r
+The fairest flower of the youth sit listening\r
+Before your play, and wait the revelation;\r
+Each melancholy heart, with soft eyes glistening,\r
+Draws sad, sweet nourishment from your creation;\r
+This passion now, now that is stirred, by turns,\r
+And each one sees what in his bosom burns.\r
+Open alike, as yet, to weeping and to laughter,\r
+They still admire the flights, they still enjoy the show;\r
+Him who is formed, can nothing suit thereafter;\r
+The yet unformed with thanks will ever glow.\r
+\r
+_Poet_. Ay, give me back the joyous hours,\r
+When I myself was ripening, too,\r
+When song, the fount, flung up its showers\r
+Of beauty ever fresh and new.\r
+When a soft haze the world was veiling,\r
+Each bud a miracle bespoke,\r
+And from their stems a thousand flowers I broke,\r
+Their fragrance through the vales exhaling.\r
+I nothing and yet all possessed,\r
+Yearning for truth and in illusion blest.\r
+Give me the freedom of that hour,\r
+The tear of joy, the pleasing pain,\r
+Of hate and love the thrilling power,\r
+Oh, give me back my youth again!\r
+\r
+_Merry Person_. Youth, my good friend, thou needest certainly\r
+When ambushed foes are on thee springing,\r
+When loveliest maidens witchingly\r
+Their white arms round thy neck are flinging,\r
+When the far garland meets thy glance,\r
+High on the race-ground's goal suspended,\r
+When after many a mazy dance\r
+In drink and song the night is ended.\r
+But with a free and graceful soul\r
+To strike the old familiar lyre,\r
+And to a self-appointed goal\r
+Sweep lightly o'er the trembling wire,\r
+There lies, old gentlemen, to-day\r
+Your task; fear not, no vulgar error blinds us.\r
+Age does not make us childish, as they say,\r
+But we are still true children when it finds us.\r
+\r
+_Manager_. Come, words enough you two have bandied,\r
+Now let us see some deeds at last;\r
+While you toss compliments full-handed,\r
+The time for useful work flies fast.\r
+Why talk of being in the humor?\r
+Who hesitates will never be.\r
+If you are poets (so says rumor)\r
+Now then command your poetry.\r
+You know full well our need and pleasure,\r
+We want strong drink in brimming measure;\r
+Brew at it now without delay!\r
+To-morrow will not do what is not done to-day.\r
+Let not a day be lost in dallying,\r
+But seize the possibility\r
+Right by the forelock, courage rallying,\r
+And forth with fearless spirit sallying,--\r
+Once in the yoke and you are free.\r
+ Upon our German boards, you know it,\r
+What any one would try, he may;\r
+Then stint me not, I beg, to-day,\r
+In scenery or machinery, Poet.\r
+With great and lesser heavenly lights make free,\r
+Spend starlight just as you desire;\r
+No want of water, rocks or fire\r
+Or birds or beasts to you shall be.\r
+So, in this narrow wooden house's bound,\r
+Stride through the whole creation's round,\r
+And with considerate swiftness wander\r
+From heaven, through this world, to the world down yonder.\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ PROLOGUE\r
+\r
+\r
+ IN HEAVEN.\r
+\r
+\r
+[THE LORD. THE HEAVENLY HOSTS _afterward_ MEPHISTOPHELES.\r
+_The three archangels_, RAPHAEL, GABRIEL, _and_ MICHAEL, _come forward_.]\r
+\r
+_Raphael_. The sun, in ancient wise, is sounding,\r
+ With brother-spheres, in rival song;\r
+And, his appointed journey rounding,\r
+ With thunderous movement rolls along.\r
+His look, new strength to angels lending,\r
+ No creature fathom can for aye;\r
+The lofty works, past comprehending,\r
+ Stand lordly, as on time's first day.\r
+\r
+_Gabriel_. And swift, with wondrous swiftness fleeting,\r
+ The pomp of earth turns round and round,\r
+The glow of Eden alternating\r
+ With shuddering midnight's gloom profound;\r
+Up o'er the rocks the foaming ocean\r
+ Heaves from its old, primeval bed,\r
+And rocks and seas, with endless motion,\r
+ On in the spheral sweep are sped.\r
+\r
+_Michael_. And tempests roar, glad warfare waging,\r
+ From sea to land, from land to sea,\r
+And bind round all, amidst their raging,\r
+ A chain of giant energy.\r
+There, lurid desolation, blazing,\r
+ Foreruns the volleyed thunder's way:\r
+Yet, Lord, thy messengers[2] are praising\r
+ The mild procession of thy day.\r
+\r
+_All Three_. The sight new strength to angels lendeth,\r
+ For none thy being fathom may,\r
+The works, no angel comprehendeth,\r
+ Stand lordly as on time's first day.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Since, Lord, thou drawest near us once again,\r
+And how we do, dost graciously inquire,\r
+And to be pleased to see me once didst deign,\r
+I too among thy household venture nigher.\r
+Pardon, high words I cannot labor after,\r
+Though the whole court should look on me with scorn;\r
+My pathos certainly would stir thy laughter,\r
+Hadst thou not laughter long since quite forsworn.\r
+Of sun and worlds I've nought to tell worth mention,\r
+How men torment themselves takes my attention.\r
+The little God o' the world jogs on the same old way\r
+And is as singular as on the world's first day.\r
+A pity 'tis thou shouldst have given\r
+The fool, to make him worse, a gleam of light from heaven;\r
+He calls it reason, using it\r
+To be more beast than ever beast was yet.\r
+He seems to me, (your grace the word will pardon,)\r
+Like a long-legg'd grasshopper in the garden,\r
+Forever on the wing, and hops and sings\r
+The same old song, as in the grass he springs;\r
+Would he but stay there! no; he needs must muddle\r
+His prying nose in every puddle.\r
+\r
+_The Lord_. Hast nothing for our edification?\r
+Still thy old work of accusation?\r
+Will things on earth be never right for thee?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. No, Lord! I find them still as bad as bad can be.\r
+Poor souls! their miseries seem so much to please 'em,\r
+I scarce can find it in my heart to tease 'em.\r
+\r
+_The Lord_. Knowest thou Faust?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. The Doctor?\r
+\r
+_The Lord_. Ay, my servant!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. He!\r
+Forsooth! he serves you in a famous fashion;\r
+No earthly meat or drink can feed his passion;\r
+Its grasping greed no space can measure;\r
+Half-conscious and half-crazed, he finds no rest;\r
+The fairest stars of heaven must swell his treasure.\r
+Each highest joy of earth must yield its zest,\r
+Not all the world--the boundless azure--\r
+Can fill the void within his craving breast.\r
+\r
+_The Lord_. He serves me somewhat darkly, now, I grant,\r
+Yet will he soon attain the light of reason.\r
+Sees not the gardener, in the green young plant,\r
+That bloom and fruit shall deck its coming season?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. What will you bet? You'll surely lose your wager!\r
+If you will give me leave henceforth,\r
+To lead him softly on, like an old stager.\r
+\r
+_The Lord_. So long as he shall live on earth,\r
+Do with him all that you desire.\r
+Man errs and staggers from his birth.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Thank you; I never did aspire\r
+To have with dead folk much transaction.\r
+In full fresh cheeks I take the greatest satisfaction.\r
+A corpse will never find me in the house;\r
+I love to play as puss does with the mouse.\r
+\r
+_The Lord_. All right, I give thee full permission!\r
+Draw down this spirit from its source,\r
+And, canst thou catch him, to perdition\r
+Carry him with thee in thy course,\r
+But stand abashed, if thou must needs confess,\r
+That a good man, though passion blur his vision,\r
+Has of the right way still a consciousness.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Good! but I'll make it a short story.\r
+About my wager I'm by no means sorry.\r
+And if I gain my end with glory\r
+Allow me to exult from a full breast.\r
+Dust shall he eat and that with zest,\r
+Like my old aunt, the snake, whose fame is hoary.\r
+\r
+_The Lord_. Well, go and come, and make thy trial;\r
+The like of thee I never yet did hate.\r
+Of all the spirits of denial\r
+The scamp is he I best can tolerate.\r
+Man is too prone, at best, to seek the way that's easy,\r
+He soon grows fond of unconditioned rest;\r
+And therefore such a comrade suits him best,\r
+Who spurs and works, true devil, always busy.\r
+But you, true sons of God, in growing measure,\r
+Enjoy rich beauty's living stores of pleasure!\r
+The Word[3] divine that lives and works for aye,\r
+Fold you in boundless love's embrace alluring,\r
+And what in floating vision glides away,\r
+That seize ye and make fast with thoughts enduring.\r
+\r
+[_Heaven closes, the archangels disperse._]\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles. [Alone.]_ I like at times to exchange with him a word,\r
+And take care not to break with him. 'Tis civil\r
+In the old fellow[4] and so great a Lord\r
+To talk so kindly with the very devil.\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ FAUST.\r
+\r
+\r
+ _Night. In a narrow high-arched Gothic room_,\r
+ FAUST _sitting uneasy at his desk_.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Have now, alas! quite studied through\r
+Philosophy and Medicine,\r
+And Law, and ah! Theology, too,\r
+With hot desire the truth to win!\r
+And here, at last, I stand, poor fool!\r
+As wise as when I entered school;\r
+Am called Magister, Doctor, indeed,--\r
+Ten livelong years cease not to lead\r
+Backward and forward, to and fro,\r
+My scholars by the nose--and lo!\r
+Just nothing, I see, is the sum of our learning,\r
+To the very core of my heart 'tis burning.\r
+'Tis true I'm more clever than all the foplings,\r
+Doctors, Magisters, Authors, and Popelings;\r
+Am plagued by no scruple, nor doubt, nor cavil,\r
+Nor lingering fear of hell or devil--\r
+What then? all pleasure is fled forever;\r
+To know one thing I vainly endeavor,\r
+There's nothing wherein one fellow-creature\r
+Could be mended or bettered with me for a teacher.\r
+And then, too, nor goods nor gold have I,\r
+Nor fame nor worldly dignity,--\r
+A condition no dog could longer live in!\r
+And so to magic my soul I've given,\r
+If, haply, by spirits' mouth and might,\r
+Some mysteries may not be brought to light;\r
+That to teach, no longer may be my lot,\r
+With bitter sweat, what I need to be taught;\r
+That I may know what the world contains\r
+In its innermost heart and finer veins,\r
+See all its energies and seeds\r
+And deal no more in words but in deeds.\r
+ O full, round Moon, didst thou but thine\r
+For the last time on this woe of mine!\r
+Thou whom so many a midnight I\r
+Have watched, at this desk, come up the sky:\r
+O'er books and papers, a dreary pile,\r
+Then, mournful friend! uprose thy smile!\r
+Oh that I might on the mountain-height,\r
+Walk in the noon of thy blessed light,\r
+Round mountain-caverns with spirits hover,\r
+Float in thy gleamings the meadows over,\r
+And freed from the fumes of a lore-crammed brain,\r
+Bathe in thy dew and be well again!\r
+ Woe! and these walls still prison me?\r
+Dull, dismal hole! my curse on thee!\r
+Where heaven's own light, with its blessed beams,\r
+Through painted panes all sickly gleams!\r
+Hemmed in by these old book-piles tall,\r
+Which, gnawed by worms and deep in must,\r
+Rise to the roof against a wall\r
+Of smoke-stained paper, thick with dust;\r
+'Mid glasses, boxes, where eye can see,\r
+Filled with old, obsolete instruments,\r
+Stuffed with old heirlooms of implements--\r
+That is thy world! There's a world for thee!\r
+ And still dost ask what stifles so\r
+The fluttering heart within thy breast?\r
+By what inexplicable woe\r
+The springs of life are all oppressed?\r
+Instead of living nature, where\r
+God made and planted men, his sons,\r
+Through smoke and mould, around thee stare\r
+Grim skeletons and dead men's bones.\r
+ Up! Fly! Far out into the land!\r
+And this mysterious volume, see!\r
+By Nostradamus's[5] own hand,\r
+Is it not guide enough for thee?\r
+Then shalt thou thread the starry skies,\r
+And, taught by nature in her walks,\r
+The spirit's might shall o'er thee rise,\r
+As ghost to ghost familiar talks.\r
+Vain hope that mere dry sense should here\r
+Explain the holy signs to thee.\r
+I feel you, spirits, hovering near;\r
+Oh, if you hear me, answer me!\r
+ [_He opens the book and beholds the sign of the Macrocosm.[_6]]\r
+Ha! as I gaze, what ecstasy is this,\r
+In one full tide through all my senses flowing!\r
+I feel a new-born life, a holy bliss\r
+Through nerves and veins mysteriously glowing.\r
+Was it a God who wrote each sign?\r
+Which, all my inner tumult stilling,\r
+And this poor heart with rapture filling,\r
+Reveals to me, by force divine,\r
+Great Nature's energies around and through me thrilling?\r
+Am I a God? It grows so bright to me!\r
+Each character on which my eye reposes\r
+Nature in act before my soul discloses.\r
+The sage's word was truth, at last I see:\r
+"The spirit-world, unbarred, is waiting;\r
+Thy sense is locked, thy heart is dead!\r
+Up, scholar, bathe, unhesitating,\r
+The earthly breast in morning-red!"\r
+ [_He contemplates the sign._]\r
+How all one whole harmonious weaves,\r
+Each in the other works and lives!\r
+See heavenly powers ascending and descending,\r
+The golden buckets, one long line, extending!\r
+See them with bliss-exhaling pinions winging\r
+Their way from heaven through earth--their singing\r
+Harmonious through the universe is ringing!\r
+ Majestic show! but ah! a show alone!\r
+Nature! where find I thee, immense, unknown?\r
+Where you, ye breasts? Ye founts all life sustaining,\r
+On which hang heaven and earth, and where\r
+Men's withered hearts their waste repair--\r
+Ye gush, ye nurse, and I must sit complaining?\r
+ [_He opens reluctantly the book and sees the sign of the earth-spirit._]\r
+How differently works on me this sign!\r
+Thou, spirit of the earth, art to me nearer;\r
+I feel my powers already higher, clearer,\r
+I glow already as with new-pressed wine,\r
+I feel the mood to brave life's ceaseless clashing,\r
+To bear its frowning woes, its raptures flashing,\r
+To mingle in the tempest's dashing,\r
+And not to tremble in the shipwreck's crashing;\r
+Clouds gather o'er my head--\r
+Them moon conceals her light--\r
+The lamp goes out!\r
+It smokes!--Red rays are darting, quivering\r
+Around my head--comes down\r
+A horror from the vaulted roof\r
+And seizes me!\r
+Spirit that I invoked, thou near me art,\r
+Unveil thyself!\r
+Ha! what a tearing in my heart!\r
+Upheaved like an ocean\r
+My senses toss with strange emotion!\r
+I feel my heart to thee entirely given!\r
+Thou must! and though the price were life--were heaven!\r
+ [_He seizes the book and pronounces mysteriously the sign of the spirit.\r
+ A ruddy flame darts out, the spirit appears in the flame._]\r
+\r
+_Spirit_. Who calls upon me?\r
+\r
+_Faust. [Turning away.]_ Horrid sight!\r
+\r
+_Spirit_. Long have I felt the mighty action,\r
+Upon my sphere, of thy attraction,\r
+And now--\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Away, intolerable sprite!\r
+\r
+_Spirit_. Thou breath'st a panting supplication\r
+To hear my voice, my face to see;\r
+Thy mighty prayer prevails on me,\r
+I come!--what miserable agitation\r
+Seizes this demigod! Where is the cry of thought?\r
+Where is the breast? that in itself a world begot,\r
+And bore and cherished, that with joy did tremble\r
+And fondly dream us spirits to resemble.\r
+Where art thou, Faust? whose voice rang through my ear,\r
+Whose mighty yearning drew me from my sphere?\r
+Is this thing thou? that, blasted by my breath,\r
+Through all life's windings shuddereth,\r
+A shrinking, cringing, writhing worm!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Thee, flame-born creature, shall I fear?\r
+'Tis I, 'tis Faust, behold thy peer!\r
+\r
+_Spirit_. In life's tide currents, in action's storm,\r
+Up and down, like a wave,\r
+Like the wind I sweep!\r
+Cradle and grave--\r
+A limitless deep---\r
+An endless weaving\r
+To and fro,\r
+A restless heaving\r
+Of life and glow,--\r
+So shape I, on Destiny's thundering loom,\r
+The Godhead's live garment, eternal in bloom.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Spirit that sweep'st the world from end to end,\r
+How near, this hour, I feel myself to thee!\r
+\r
+_Spirit_. Thou'rt like the spirit thou canst comprehend,\r
+Not me! [_Vanishes._]\r
+\r
+_Faust_. [_Collapsing_.] Not thee?\r
+ Whom then?\r
+ I, image of the Godhead,\r
+ And no peer for thee!\r
+ [_A knocking_.]\r
+O Death! I know it!--'tis my Famulus--\r
+Good-bye, ye dreams of bliss Elysian!\r
+Shame! that so many a glowing vision\r
+This dried-up sneak must scatter thus!\r
+\r
+ [WAGNER, _in sleeping-gown and night-cap, a lamp in his hand._\r
+ FAUST _turns round with an annoyed look_.]\r
+\r
+_Wagner_. Excuse me! you're engaged in declamation;\r
+'Twas a Greek tragedy no doubt you read?\r
+I in this art should like initiation,\r
+For nowadays it stands one well instead.\r
+I've often heard them boast, a preacher\r
+Might profit with a player for his teacher.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Yes, when the preacher is a player, granted:\r
+As often happens in our modern ways.\r
+\r
+_Wagner_. Ah! when one with such love of study's haunted,\r
+And scarcely sees the world on holidays,\r
+And takes a spy-glass, as it were, to read it,\r
+How can one by persuasion hope to lead it?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. What you don't feel, you'll never catch by hunting,\r
+It must gush out spontaneous from the soul,\r
+And with a fresh delight enchanting\r
+The hearts of all that hear control.\r
+Sit there forever! Thaw your glue-pot,--\r
+Blow up your ash-heap to a flame, and brew,\r
+With a dull fire, in your stew-pot,\r
+Of other men's leavings a ragout!\r
+Children and apes will gaze delighted,\r
+If their critiques can pleasure impart;\r
+But never a heart will be ignited,\r
+Comes not the spark from the speaker's heart.\r
+\r
+_Wagner_. Delivery makes the orator's success;\r
+There I'm still far behindhand, I confess.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Seek honest gains, without pretence!\r
+Be not a cymbal-tinkling fool!\r
+Sound understanding and good sense\r
+Speak out with little art or rule;\r
+And when you've something earnest to utter,\r
+Why hunt for words in such a flutter?\r
+Yes, your discourses, that are so refined'\r
+In which humanity's poor shreds you frizzle,\r
+Are unrefreshing as the mist and wind\r
+That through the withered leaves of autumn whistle!\r
+\r
+_Wagner_. Ah God! well, art is long!\r
+And life is short and fleeting.\r
+What headaches have I felt and what heart-beating,\r
+When critical desire was strong.\r
+How hard it is the ways and means to master\r
+By which one gains each fountain-head!\r
+\r
+And ere one yet has half the journey sped,\r
+The poor fool dies--O sad disaster!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Is parchment, then, the holy well-spring, thinkest,\r
+A draught from which thy thirst forever slakes?\r
+No quickening element thou drinkest,\r
+Till up from thine own soul the fountain breaks.\r
+\r
+_Wagner_. Excuse me! in these olden pages\r
+We catch the spirit of the by-gone ages,\r
+We see what wisest men before our day have thought,\r
+And to what glorious heights we their bequests have brought.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. O yes, we've reached the stars at last!\r
+My friend, it is to us,--the buried past,--\r
+A book with seven seals protected;\r
+Your spirit of the times is, then,\r
+At bottom, your own spirit, gentlemen,\r
+In which the times are seen reflected.\r
+And often such a mess that none can bear it;\r
+At the first sight of it they run away.\r
+A dust-bin and a lumber-garret,\r
+At most a mock-heroic play[8]\r
+With fine, pragmatic maxims teeming,\r
+The mouths of puppets well-beseeming!\r
+\r
+_Wagner_. But then the world! the heart and mind of man!\r
+To know of these who would not pay attention?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. To know them, yes, as weaklings can!\r
+Who dares the child's true name outright to mention?\r
+The few who any thing thereof have learned,\r
+Who out of their heart's fulness needs must gabble,\r
+And show their thoughts and feelings to the rabble,\r
+Have evermore been crucified and burned.\r
+I pray you, friend, 'tis wearing into night,\r
+Let us adjourn here, for the present.\r
+\r
+_Wagner_. I had been glad to stay till morning light,\r
+This learned talk with you has been so pleasant,\r
+But the first day of Easter comes to-morrow.\r
+And then an hour or two I'll borrow.\r
+With zeal have I applied myself to learning,\r
+True, I know much, yet to know all am burning.\r
+ [_Exit_.]\r
+\r
+_Faust_. [_Alone_.] See how in _his_ head only, hope still lingers,\r
+Who evermore to empty rubbish clings,\r
+With greedy hand grubs after precious things,\r
+And leaps for joy when some poor worm he fingers!\r
+ That such a human voice should dare intrude,\r
+Where all was full of ghostly tones and features!\r
+Yet ah! this once, my gratitude\r
+Is due to thee, most wretched of earth's creatures.\r
+Thou snatchedst me from the despairing state\r
+In which my senses, well nigh crazed, were sunken.\r
+The apparition was so giant-great,\r
+That to a very dwarf my soul had shrunken.\r
+ I, godlike, who in fancy saw but now\r
+Eternal truth's fair glass in wondrous nearness,\r
+Rejoiced in heavenly radiance and clearness,\r
+Leaving the earthly man below;\r
+I, more than cherub, whose free force\r
+Dreamed, through the veins of nature penetrating,\r
+To taste the life of Gods, like them creating,\r
+Behold me this presumption expiating!\r
+A word of thunder sweeps me from my course.\r
+ Myself with thee no longer dare I measure;\r
+Had I the power to draw thee down at pleasure;\r
+To hold thee here I still had not the force.\r
+Oh, in that blest, ecstatic hour,\r
+I felt myself so small, so great;\r
+Thou drovest me with cruel power\r
+Back upon man's uncertain fate\r
+What shall I do? what slum, thus lonely?\r
+That impulse must I, then, obey?\r
+Alas! our very deeds, and not our sufferings only,\r
+How do they hem and choke life's way!\r
+ To all the mind conceives of great and glorious\r
+A strange and baser mixture still adheres;\r
+Striving for earthly good are we victorious?\r
+A dream and cheat the better part appears.\r
+The feelings that could once such noble life inspire\r
+Are quenched and trampled out in passion's mire.\r
+ Where Fantasy, erewhile, with daring flight\r
+Out to the infinite her wings expanded,\r
+A little space can now suffice her quite,\r
+When hope on hope time's gulf has wrecked and stranded.\r
+Care builds her nest far down the heart's recesses,\r
+There broods o'er dark, untold distresses,\r
+Restless she sits, and scares thy joy and peace away;\r
+She puts on some new mask with each new day,\r
+Herself as house and home, as wife and child presenting,\r
+As fire and water, bane and blade;\r
+What never hits makes thee afraid,\r
+And what is never lost she keeps thee still lamenting.\r
+ Not like the Gods am I! Too deep that truth is thrust!\r
+But like the worm, that wriggles through the dust;\r
+Who, as along the dust for food he feels,\r
+Is crushed and buried by the traveller's heels.\r
+ Is it not dust that makes this lofty wall\r
+Groan with its hundred shelves and cases;\r
+The rubbish and the thousand trifles all\r
+That crowd these dark, moth-peopled places?\r
+Here shall my craving heart find rest?\r
+Must I perchance a thousand books turn over,\r
+To find that men are everywhere distrest,\r
+And here and there one happy one discover?\r
+Why grin'st thou down upon me, hollow skull?\r
+But that thy brain, like mine, once trembling, hoping,\r
+Sought the light day, yet ever sorrowful,\r
+Burned for the truth in vain, in twilight groping?\r
+Ye, instruments, of course, are mocking me;\r
+Its wheels, cogs, bands, and barrels each one praises.\r
+I waited at the door; you were the key;\r
+Your ward is nicely turned, and yet no bolt it raises.\r
+Unlifted in the broadest day,\r
+Doth Nature's veil from prying eyes defend her,\r
+And what (he chooses not before thee to display,\r
+Not all thy screws and levers can force her to surrender.\r
+Old trumpery! not that I e'er used thee, but\r
+Because my father used thee, hang'st thou o'er me,\r
+Old scroll! thou hast been stained with smoke and smut\r
+Since, on this desk, the lamp first dimly gleamed before me.\r
+Better have squandered, far, I now can clearly see,\r
+My little all, than melt beneath it, in this Tophet!\r
+That which thy fathers have bequeathed to thee,\r
+Earn and become possessor of it!\r
+What profits not a weary load will be;\r
+What it brings forth alone can yield the moment profit.\r
+ Why do I gaze as if a spell had bound me\r
+Up yonder? Is that flask a magnet to the eyes?\r
+What lovely light, so sudden, blooms around me?\r
+As when in nightly woods we hail the full-moon-rise.\r
+ I greet thee, rarest phial, precious potion!\r
+As now I take thee down with deep devotion,\r
+In thee I venerate man's wit and art.\r
+Quintessence of all soporific flowers,\r
+Extract of all the finest deadly powers,\r
+Thy favor to thy master now impart!\r
+I look on thee, the sight my pain appeases,\r
+I handle thee, the strife of longing ceases,\r
+The flood-tide of the spirit ebbs away.\r
+Far out to sea I'm drawn, sweet voices listening,\r
+The glassy waters at my feet are glistening,\r
+To new shores beckons me a new-born day.\r
+ A fiery chariot floats, on airy pinions,\r
+To where I sit! Willing, it beareth me,\r
+On a new path, through ether's blue dominions,\r
+To untried spheres of pure activity.\r
+This lofty life, this bliss elysian,\r
+Worm that thou waft erewhile, deservest thou?\r
+Ay, on this earthly sun, this charming vision,\r
+Turn thy back resolutely now!\r
+Boldly draw near and rend the gates asunder,\r
+By which each cowering mortal gladly steals.\r
+Now is the time to show by deeds of wonder\r
+That manly greatness not to godlike glory yields;\r
+Before that gloomy pit to stand, unfearing,\r
+Where Fantasy self-damned in its own torment lies,\r
+Still onward to that pass-way steering,\r
+Around whose narrow mouth hell-flames forever rise;\r
+Calmly to dare the step, serene, unshrinking,\r
+Though into nothingness the hour should see thee sinking.\r
+ Now, then, come down from thy old case, I bid thee,\r
+Where thou, forgotten, many a year hast hid thee,\r
+Into thy master's hand, pure, crystal glass!\r
+The joy-feasts of the fathers thou hast brightened,\r
+The hearts of gravest guests were lightened,\r
+When, pledged, from hand to hand they saw thee pass.\r
+Thy sides, with many a curious type bedight,\r
+Which each, as with one draught he quaffed the liquor\r
+Must read in rhyme from off the wondrous beaker,\r
+Remind me, ah! of many a youthful night.\r
+I shall not hand thee now to any neighbor,\r
+Not now to show my wit upon thy carvings labor;\r
+Here is a juice of quick-intoxicating might.\r
+The rich brown flood adown thy sides is streaming,\r
+With my own choice ingredients teeming;\r
+Be this last draught, as morning now is gleaming,\r
+Drained as a lofty pledge to greet the festal light!\r
+ [_He puts the goblet to his lips_.\r
+\r
+_Ringing of bells and choral song_.\r
+\r
+_Chorus of Angels_. Christ hath arisen!\r
+ Joy to humanity!\r
+ No more shall vanity,\r
+ Death and inanity\r
+ Hold thee in prison!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. What hum of music, what a radiant tone,\r
+Thrills through me, from my lips the goblet stealing!\r
+Ye murmuring bells, already make ye known\r
+The Easter morn's first hour, with solemn pealing?\r
+Sing you, ye choirs, e'en now, the glad, consoling song,\r
+That once, from angel-lips, through gloom sepulchral rung,\r
+A new immortal covenant sealing?\r
+\r
+_Chorus of Women_. Spices we carried,\r
+ Laid them upon his breast;\r
+ Tenderly buried\r
+ Him whom we loved the best;\r
+\r
+ Cleanly to bind him\r
+ Took we the fondest care,\r
+ Ah! and we find him\r
+ Now no more there.\r
+\r
+_Chorus of Angels_. Christ hath ascended!\r
+ Reign in benignity!\r
+ Pain and indignity,\r
+ Scorn and malignity,\r
+ _Their_ work have ended.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Why seek ye me in dust, forlorn,\r
+Ye heavenly tones, with soft enchanting?\r
+Go, greet pure-hearted men this holy morn!\r
+Your message well I hear, but faith to me is wanting;\r
+Wonder, its dearest child, of Faith is born.\r
+To yonder spheres I dare no more aspire,\r
+Whence the sweet tidings downward float;\r
+And yet, from childhood heard, the old, familiar note\r
+Calls back e'en now to life my warm desire.\r
+Ah! once how sweetly fell on me the kiss\r
+Of heavenly love in the still Sabbath stealing!\r
+Prophetically rang the bells with solemn pealing;\r
+A prayer was then the ecstasy of bliss;\r
+A blessed and mysterious yearning\r
+Drew me to roam through meadows, woods, and skies;\r
+And, midst a thousand tear-drops burning,\r
+I felt a world within me rise\r
+That strain, oh, how it speaks youth's gleesome plays and feelings,\r
+Joys of spring-festivals long past;\r
+Remembrance holds me now, with childhood's fond appealings,\r
+Back from the fatal step, the last.\r
+Sound on, ye heavenly strains, that bliss restore me!\r
+Tears gush, once more the spell of earth is o'er me\r
+\r
+_Chorus of Disciples_. Has the grave's lowly one\r
+ Risen victorious?\r
+ Sits he, God's Holy One,\r
+ High-throned and glorious?\r
+ He, in this blest new birth,\r
+ Rapture creative knows;[9]\r
+ Ah! on the breast of earth\r
+ Taste we still nature's woes.\r
+ Left here to languish\r
+ Lone in a world like this,\r
+ Fills us with anguish\r
+ Master, thy bliss!\r
+\r
+_Chorus of Angels_. Christ has arisen\r
+ Out of corruption's gloom.\r
+ Break from your prison,\r
+ Burst every tomb!\r
+ Livingly owning him,\r
+ Lovingly throning him,\r
+ Feasting fraternally,\r
+ Praying diurnally,\r
+ Bearing his messages,\r
+ Sharing his promises,\r
+ Find ye your master near,\r
+ Find ye him here![10]\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ BEFORE THE GATE.\r
+\r
+ _Pedestrians of all descriptions stroll forth_.\r
+\r
+_Mechanics' Apprentices_. Where are you going to carouse?\r
+\r
+_Others_. We're all going out to the Hunter's House.\r
+\r
+_The First_. We're going, ourselves, out to the Mill-House, brothers.\r
+\r
+_An Apprentice_. The Fountain-House I rather recommend.\r
+\r
+_Second_. 'Tis not a pleasant road, my friend.\r
+\r
+_The second group_. What will you do, then?\r
+\r
+_A Third_. I go with the others.\r
+\r
+_Fourth_. Come up to Burgdorf, there you're sure to find good cheer,\r
+The handsomest of girls and best of beer,\r
+And rows, too, of the very first water.\r
+\r
+_Fifth_. You monstrous madcap, does your skin\r
+Itch for the third time to try that inn?\r
+I've had enough for _my_ taste in that quarter.\r
+\r
+_Servant-girl_. No! I'm going back again to town for one.\r
+\r
+_Others_. Under those poplars we are sure to meet him.\r
+\r
+_First Girl_. But that for me is no great fun;\r
+For you are always sure to get him,\r
+He never dances with any but you.\r
+Great good to me your luck will do!\r
+\r
+_Others_. He's not alone, I heard him say,\r
+The curly-head would be with him to-day.\r
+\r
+_Scholar_. Stars! how the buxom wenches stride there!\r
+Quick, brother! we must fasten alongside there.\r
+Strong beer, good smart tobacco, and the waist\r
+Of a right handsome gall, well rigg'd, now that's my taste.\r
+\r
+_Citizen's Daughter_. Do see those fine, young fellows yonder!\r
+'Tis, I declare, a great disgrace;\r
+When they might have the very best, I wonder,\r
+After these galls they needs must race!\r
+\r
+_Second scholar_ [_to the first_].\r
+Stop! not so fast! there come two more behind,\r
+My eyes! but ain't they dressed up neatly?\r
+One is my neighbor, or I'm blind;\r
+I love the girl, she looks so sweetly.\r
+Alone all quietly they go,\r
+You'll find they'll take us, by and bye, in tow.\r
+\r
+_First_. No, brother! I don't like these starched up ways.\r
+Make haste! before the game slips through our fingers.\r
+The hand that swings the broom o' Saturdays\r
+On Sundays round thy neck most sweetly lingers.\r
+\r
+_Citizen_. No, I don't like at all this new-made burgomaster!\r
+His insolence grows daily ever faster.\r
+No good from him the town will get!\r
+Will things grow better with him? Never!\r
+We're under more constraint than ever,\r
+And pay more tax than ever yet.\r
+\r
+_Beggar_. [_Sings_.] Good gentlemen, and you, fair ladies,\r
+ With such red cheeks and handsome dress,\r
+ Think what my melancholy trade is,\r
+ And see and pity my distress!\r
+ Help the poor harper, sisters, brothers!\r
+ Who loves to give, alone is gay.\r
+ This day, a holiday to others,\r
+ Make it for me a harvest day.\r
+\r
+_Another citizen_.\r
+Sundays and holidays, I like, of all things, a good prattle\r
+Of war and fighting, and the whole array,\r
+When back in Turkey, far away,\r
+The peoples give each other battle.\r
+One stands before the window, drinks his glass,\r
+And sees the ships with flags glide slowly down the river;\r
+Comes home at night, when out of sight they pass,\r
+And sings with joy, "Oh, peace forever!"\r
+\r
+_Third citizen_. So I say, neighbor! let them have their way,\r
+Crack skulls and in their crazy riot\r
+Turn all things upside down they may,\r
+But leave us here in peace and quiet.\r
+\r
+_Old Woman_ [_to the citizen's daughter_].\r
+Heyday, brave prinking this! the fine young blood!\r
+Who is not smitten that has met you?--\r
+But not so proud! All very good!\r
+And what you want I'll promise soon to get you.\r
+\r
+_Citizen's Daughter_. Come, Agatha! I dread in public sight\r
+To prattle with such hags; don't stay, O, Luddy!\r
+'Tis true she showed me, on St. Andrew's night,\r
+My future sweetheart in the body.\r
+\r
+_The other_. She showed me mine, too, in a glass,\r
+Right soldierlike, with daring comrades round him.\r
+I look all round, I study all that pass,\r
+But to this hour I have not found him.\r
+\r
+_Soldiers_. Castles with lowering\r
+ Bulwarks and towers,\r
+ Maidens with towering\r
+ Passions and powers,\r
+ Both shall be ours!\r
+ Daring the venture,\r
+ Glorious the pay!\r
+\r
+ When the brass trumpet\r
+ Summons us loudly,\r
+ Joy-ward or death-ward,\r
+ On we march proudly.\r
+ That is a storming!\r
+\r
+ Life in its splendor!\r
+ Castles and maidens\r
+ Both must surrender.\r
+ Daring the venture,\r
+ Glorious the pay.\r
+ There go the soldiers\r
+ Marching away!\r
+\r
+\r
+ FAUST _and_ WAGNER.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Spring's warm look has unfettered the fountains,\r
+Brooks go tinkling with silvery feet;\r
+Hope's bright blossoms the valley greet;\r
+Weakly and sickly up the rough mountains\r
+Pale old Winter has made his retreat.\r
+Thence he launches, in sheer despite,\r
+Sleet and hail in impotent showers,\r
+O'er the green lawn as he takes his flight;\r
+But the sun will suffer no white,\r
+Everywhere waking the formative powers,\r
+Living colors he yearns to spread;\r
+Yet, as he finds it too early for flowers,\r
+Gayly dressed people he takes instead.\r
+Look from this height whereon we find us\r
+Back to the town we have left behind us,\r
+Where from the dark and narrow door\r
+Forth a motley multitude pour.\r
+They sun themselves gladly and all are gay,\r
+They celebrate Christ's resurrection to-day.\r
+For have not they themselves arisen?\r
+From smoky huts and hovels and stables,\r
+From labor's bonds and traffic's prison,\r
+From the confinement of roofs and gables,\r
+From many a cramping street and alley,\r
+From churches full of the old world's night,\r
+All have come out to the day's broad light.\r
+See, only see! how the masses sally\r
+Streaming and swarming through gardens and fields\r
+How the broad stream that bathes the valley\r
+Is everywhere cut with pleasure boats' keels,\r
+And that last skiff, so heavily laden,\r
+Almost to sinking, puts off in the stream;\r
+Ribbons and jewels of youngster and maiden\r
+From the far paths of the mountain gleam.\r
+How it hums o'er the fields and clangs from the steeple!\r
+This is the real heaven of the people,\r
+Both great and little are merry and gay,\r
+I am a man, too, I can be, to-day.\r
+\r
+_Wagner_. With you, Sir Doctor, to go out walking\r
+Is at all times honor and gain enough;\r
+But to trust myself here alone would be shocking,\r
+For I am a foe to all that is rough.\r
+Fiddling and bowling and screams and laughter\r
+To me are the hatefullest noises on earth;\r
+They yell as if Satan himself were after,\r
+And call it music and call it mirth.\r
+\r
+ [_Peasants (under the linden). Dance and song._]\r
+\r
+The shepherd prinked him for the dance,\r
+With jacket gay and spangle's glance,\r
+And all his finest quiddle.\r
+And round the linden lass and lad\r
+They wheeled and whirled and danced like mad.\r
+Huzza! huzza!\r
+Huzza! Ha, ha, ha!\r
+And tweedle-dee went the fiddle.\r
+\r
+And in he bounded through the whirl,\r
+And with his elbow punched a girl,\r
+Heigh diddle, diddle!\r
+The buxom wench she turned round quick,\r
+"Now that I call a scurvy trick!"\r
+Huzza! huzza!\r
+Huzza! ha, ha, ha!\r
+Tweedle-dee, tweedle-dee went the fiddle.\r
+\r
+And petticoats and coat-tails flew\r
+As up and down they went, and through,\r
+Across and down the middle.\r
+They all grew red, they all grew warm,\r
+And rested, panting, arm in arm,\r
+Huzza! huzza!\r
+Ta-ra-la!\r
+Tweedle-dee went the fiddle!\r
+\r
+"And don't be so familiar there!\r
+How many a one, with speeches fair,\r
+His trusting maid will diddle!"\r
+But still he flattered her aside--\r
+And from the linden sounded wide:\r
+Huzza! huzza!\r
+Huzza! huzza! ha! ha! ha!\r
+And tweedle-dee the fiddle.\r
+\r
+_Old Peasant._ Sir Doctor, this is kind of you,\r
+That with us here you deign to talk,\r
+And through the crowd of folk to-day\r
+A man so highly larned, walk.\r
+So take the fairest pitcher here,\r
+Which we with freshest drink have filled,\r
+I pledge it to you, praying aloud\r
+That, while your thirst thereby is stilled,\r
+So many days as the drops it contains\r
+May fill out the life that to you remains.\r
+\r
+_Faust._ I take the quickening draught and call\r
+For heaven's best blessing on one and all.\r
+\r
+ [_The people form a circle round him._]\r
+\r
+_Old Peasant._ Your presence with us, this glad day,\r
+We take it very kind, indeed!\r
+In truth we've found you long ere this\r
+In evil days a friend in need!\r
+Full many a one stands living here,\r
+Whom, at death's door already laid,\r
+Your father snatched from fever's rage,\r
+When, by his skill, the plague he stayed.\r
+You, a young man, we daily saw\r
+Go with him to the pest-house then,\r
+And many a corpse was carried forth,\r
+But you came out alive again.\r
+With a charmed life you passed before us,\r
+Helped by the Helper watching o'er us.\r
+\r
+_All._ The well-tried man, and may he live,\r
+Long years a helping hand to give!\r
+\r
+_Faust._ Bow down to Him on high who sends\r
+His heavenly help and helping friends!\r
+ [_He goes on with_ WAGNER.]\r
+\r
+_Wagner._ What feelings, O great man, thy heart must swell\r
+Thus to receive a people's veneration!\r
+O worthy all congratulation,\r
+Whose gifts to such advantage tell.\r
+The father to his son shows thee with exultation,\r
+All run and crowd and ask, the circle closer draws,\r
+The fiddle stops, the dancers pause,\r
+Thou goest--the lines fall back for thee.\r
+They fling their gay-decked caps on high;\r
+A little more and they would bow the knee\r
+As if the blessed Host came by.\r
+\r
+_Faust._ A few steps further on, until we reach that stone;\r
+There will we rest us from our wandering.\r
+How oft in prayer and penance there alone,\r
+Fasting, I sate, on holy mysteries pondering.\r
+There, rich in hope, in faith still firm,\r
+I've wept, sighed, wrung my hands and striven\r
+This plague's removal to extort (poor worm!)\r
+From the almighty Lord of Heaven.\r
+The crowd's applause has now a scornful tone;\r
+O couldst thou hear my conscience tell its story,\r
+How little either sire or son\r
+Has done to merit such a glory!\r
+My father was a worthy man, confused\r
+And darkened with his narrow lucubrations,\r
+Who with a whimsical, though well-meant patience,\r
+On Nature's holy circles mused.\r
+Shut up in his black laboratory,\r
+Experimenting without end,\r
+'Midst his adepts, till he grew hoary,\r
+He sought the opposing powers to blend.\r
+Thus, a red lion,[11] a bold suitor, married\r
+The silver lily, in the lukewarm bath,\r
+And, from one bride-bed to another harried,\r
+The two were seen to fly before the flaming wrath.\r
+If then, with colors gay and splendid,\r
+The glass the youthful queen revealed,\r
+Here was the physic, death the patients' sufferings ended,\r
+And no one asked, who then was healed?\r
+Thus, with electuaries so satanic,\r
+Worse than the plague with all its panic,\r
+We rioted through hill and vale;\r
+Myself, with my own hands, the drug to thousands giving,\r
+They passed away, and I am living\r
+To hear men's thanks the murderers hail!\r
+\r
+_Wagner._ Forbear! far other name that service merits!\r
+Can a brave man do more or less\r
+Than with nice conscientiousness\r
+To exercise the calling he inherits?\r
+If thou, as youth, thy father honorest,\r
+To learn from him thou wilt desire;\r
+If thou, as man, men with new light hast blest,\r
+Then may thy son to loftier heights aspire.\r
+\r
+_Faust._ O blest! who hopes to find repose,\r
+Up from this mighty sea of error diving!\r
+Man cannot use what he already knows,\r
+To use the unknown ever striving.\r
+But let not such dark thoughts a shadow throw\r
+O'er the bright joy this hour inspires!\r
+See how the setting sun, with ruddy glow,\r
+The green-embosomed hamlet fires!\r
+He sinks and fades, the day is lived and gone,\r
+He hastens forth new scenes of life to waken.\r
+O for a wing to lift and bear me on,\r
+And on, to where his last rays beckon!\r
+Then should I see the world's calm breast\r
+In everlasting sunset glowing,\r
+The summits all on fire, each valley steeped in rest,\r
+The silver brook to golden rivers flowing.\r
+No savage mountain climbing to the skies\r
+Should stay the godlike course with wild abysses;\r
+And now the sea, with sheltering, warm recesses\r
+Spreads out before the astonished eyes.\r
+At last it seems as if the God were sinking;\r
+But a new impulse fires the mind,\r
+Onward I speed, his endless glory drinking,\r
+The day before me and the night behind,\r
+The heavens above my head and under me the ocean.\r
+A lovely dream,--meanwhile he's gone from sight.\r
+Ah! sure, no earthly wing, in swiftest flight,\r
+May with the spirit's wings hold equal motion.\r
+Yet has each soul an inborn feeling\r
+Impelling it to mount and soar away,\r
+When, lost in heaven's blue depths, the lark is pealing\r
+High overhead her airy lay;\r
+When o'er the mountain pine's black shadow,\r
+With outspread wing the eagle sweeps,\r
+And, steering on o'er lake and meadow,\r
+The crane his homeward journey keeps.\r
+\r
+_Wagner._ I've had myself full many a wayward hour,\r
+But never yet felt such a passion's power.\r
+One soon grows tired of field and wood and brook,\r
+I envy not the fowl of heaven his pinions.\r
+Far nobler joy to soar through thought's dominions\r
+From page to page, from book to book!\r
+Ah! winter nights, so dear to mind and soul!\r
+Warm, blissful life through all the limbs is thrilling,\r
+And when thy hands unfold a genuine ancient scroll,\r
+It seems as if all heaven the room were filling.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. One passion only has thy heart possessed;\r
+The other, friend, O, learn it never!\r
+Two souls, alas! are lodged in my wild breast,\r
+Which evermore opposing ways endeavor,\r
+The one lives only on the joys of time,\r
+Still to the world with clamp-like organs clinging;\r
+The other leaves this earthly dust and slime,\r
+To fields of sainted sires up-springing.\r
+O, are there spirits in the air,\r
+That empire hold 'twixt earth's and heaven's dominions,\r
+Down from your realm of golden haze repair,\r
+Waft me to new, rich life, upon your rosy pinions!\r
+Ay! were a magic mantle only mine,\r
+To soar o'er earth's wide wildernesses,\r
+I would not sell it for the costliest dresses,\r
+Not for a royal robe the gift resign.\r
+\r
+_Wagner_. O, call them not, the well known powers of air,\r
+That swarm through all the middle kingdom, weaving\r
+Their fairy webs, with many a fatal snare\r
+The feeble race of men deceiving.\r
+First, the sharp spirit-tooth, from out the North,\r
+And arrowy tongues and fangs come thickly flying;\r
+Then from the East they greedily dart forth,\r
+Sucking thy lungs, thy life-juice drying;\r
+If from the South they come with fever thirst,\r
+Upon thy head noon's fiery splendors heaping;\r
+The Westwind brings a swarm, refreshing first,\r
+Then all thy world with thee in stupor steeping.\r
+They listen gladly, aye on mischief bent,\r
+Gladly draw near, each weak point to espy,\r
+They make believe that they from heaven are sent,\r
+Whispering like angels, while they lie.\r
+But let us go! The earth looks gray, my friend,\r
+The air grows cool, the mists ascend!\r
+At night we learn our homes to prize.--\r
+Why dost thou stop and stare with all thy eyes?\r
+What can so chain thy sight there, in the gloaming?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Seest thou that black dog through stalks and stubble roaming?\r
+\r
+_Wagner_. I saw him some time since, he seemed not strange to me.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Look sharply! What dost take the beast to be?\r
+\r
+_Wagner_. For some poor poodle who has lost his master,\r
+And, dog-like, scents him o'er the ground.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Markst thou how, ever nearer, ever faster,\r
+Towards us his spiral track wheels round and round?\r
+And if my senses suffer no confusion,\r
+Behind him trails a fiery glare.\r
+\r
+_Wagner_. 'Tis probably an optical illusion;\r
+I still see only a black poodle there.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. He seems to me as he were tracing slyly\r
+His magic rings our feet at last to snare.\r
+\r
+_Wagner_. To me he seems to dart around our steps so shyly,\r
+As if he said: is one of them my master there?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. The circle narrows, he is near!\r
+\r
+_Wagner_. Thou seest! a dog we have, no spectre, here!\r
+He growls and stops, crawls on his belly, too,\r
+And wags his tail,--as all dogs do.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Come here, sir! come, our comrade be!\r
+\r
+_Wagner_. He has a poodle's drollery.\r
+Stand still, and he, too, waits to see;\r
+Speak to him, and he jumps on thee;\r
+Lose something, drop thy cane or sling it\r
+Into the stream, he'll run and bring it.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. I think you're right; I trace no spirit here,\r
+'Tis all the fruit of training, that is clear.\r
+\r
+_Wagner_. A well-trained dog is a great treasure,\r
+Wise men in such will oft take pleasure.\r
+And he deserves your favor and a collar,\r
+He, of the students the accomplished scholar.\r
+\r
+ [_They go in through the town gate._]\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ STUDY-CHAMBER.\r
+\r
+ _Enter_ FAUST _with the_ POODLE.\r
+\r
+\r
+I leave behind me field and meadow\r
+Veiled in the dusk of holy night,\r
+Whose ominous and awful shadow\r
+Awakes the better soul to light.\r
+To sleep are lulled the wild desires,\r
+The hand of passion lies at rest;\r
+The love of man the bosom fires,\r
+The love of God stirs up the breast.\r
+\r
+Be quiet, poodle! what worrisome fiend hath possest thee,\r
+Nosing and snuffling so round the door?\r
+Go behind the stove there and rest thee,\r
+There's my best pillow--what wouldst thou more?\r
+As, out on the mountain-paths, frisking and leaping,\r
+Thou, to amuse us, hast done thy best,\r
+So now in return lie still in my keeping,\r
+A quiet, contented, and welcome guest.\r
+\r
+When, in our narrow chamber, nightly,\r
+The friendly lamp begins to burn,\r
+Then in the bosom thought beams brightly,\r
+Homeward the heart will then return.\r
+Reason once more bids passion ponder,\r
+Hope blooms again and smiles on man;\r
+Back to life's rills he yearns to wander,\r
+Ah! to the source where life began.\r
+\r
+Stop growling, poodle! In the music Elysian\r
+That laps my soul at this holy hour,\r
+These bestial noises have jarring power.\r
+We know that men will treat with derision\r
+Whatever they cannot understand,\r
+At goodness and truth and beauty's vision\r
+Will shut their eyes and murmur and howl at it;\r
+And must the dog, too, snarl and growl at it?\r
+\r
+But ah, with the best will, I feel already,\r
+No peace will well up in me, clear and steady.\r
+But why must hope so soon deceive us,\r
+And the dried-up stream in fever leave us?\r
+For in this I have had a full probation.\r
+And yet for this want a supply is provided,\r
+To a higher than earth the soul is guided,\r
+We are ready and yearn for revelation:\r
+And where are its light and warmth so blent\r
+As here in the New Testament?\r
+I feel, this moment, a mighty yearning\r
+To expound for once the ground text of all,\r
+The venerable original\r
+Into my own loved German honestly turning.\r
+ [_He opens the volume, and applies himself to the task_.]\r
+"In the beginning was the _Word_." I read.\r
+But here I stick! Who helps me to proceed?\r
+The _Word_--so high I cannot--dare not, rate it,\r
+I must, then, otherwise translate it,\r
+If by the spirit I am rightly taught.\r
+It reads: "In the beginning was the _thought_."\r
+But study well this first line's lesson,\r
+Nor let thy pen to error overhasten!\r
+Is it the _thought_ does all from time's first hour?\r
+"In the beginning," read then, "was the _power_."\r
+Yet even while I write it down, my finger\r
+Is checked, a voice forbids me there to linger.\r
+The spirit helps! At once I dare to read\r
+And write: "In the beginning was the _deed_."\r
+\r
+If I with thee must share my chamber,\r
+Poodle, now, remember,\r
+No more howling,\r
+No more growling!\r
+I had as lief a bull should bellow,\r
+As have for a chum such a noisy fellow.\r
+Stop that yell, now,\r
+One of us must quit this cell now!\r
+'Tis hard to retract hospitality,\r
+But the door is open, thy way is free.\r
+But what ails the creature?\r
+Is this in the course of nature?\r
+Is it real? or one of Fancy's shows?\r
+\r
+How long and broad my poodle grows!\r
+He rises from the ground;\r
+That is no longer the form of a hound!\r
+Heaven avert the curse from us!\r
+He looks like a hippopotamus,\r
+With his fiery eyes and the terrible white\r
+Of his grinning teeth! oh what a fright\r
+Have I brought with me into the house! Ah now,\r
+No mystery art thou!\r
+Methinks for such half hellish brood\r
+The key of Solomon were good.\r
+\r
+_Spirits_ [_in the passage_]. Softly! a fellow is caught there!\r
+ Keep back, all of you, follow him not there!\r
+ Like the fox in the trap,\r
+ Mourns the old hell-lynx his mishap.\r
+ But give ye good heed!\r
+ This way hover, that way hover,\r
+ Over and over,\r
+ And he shall right soon be freed.\r
+ Help can you give him,\r
+ O do not leave him!\r
+ Many good turns he's done us,\r
+ Many a fortune won us.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. First, to encounter the creature\r
+By the spell of the Four, says the teacher:\r
+ Salamander shall glisten,[12]\r
+ Undina lapse lightly,\r
+ Sylph vanish brightly,\r
+ Kobold quick listen.\r
+\r
+He to whom Nature\r
+Shows not, as teacher,\r
+Every force\r
+And secret source,\r
+Over the spirits\r
+No power inherits.\r
+\r
+ Vanish in glowing\r
+ Flame, Salamander!\r
+ Inward, spirally flowing,\r
+ Gurgle, Undine!\r
+ Gleam in meteoric splendor,\r
+ Airy Queen!\r
+ Thy homely help render,\r
+ Incubus! Incubus!\r
+ Forth and end the charm for us!\r
+\r
+No kingdom of Nature\r
+Resides in the creature.\r
+He lies there grinning--'tis clear, my charm\r
+Has done the monster no mite of harm.\r
+I'll try, for thy curing,\r
+Stronger adjuring.\r
+\r
+ Art thou a jail-bird,\r
+ A runaway hell-bird?\r
+ This sign,[13] then--adore it!\r
+ They tremble before it\r
+ All through the dark dwelling.\r
+\r
+His hair is bristling--his body swelling.\r
+\r
+ Reprobate creature!\r
+ Canst read his nature?\r
+ The Uncreated,\r
+ Ineffably Holy,\r
+ With Deity mated,\r
+ Sin's victim lowly?\r
+\r
+Driven behind the stove by my spells,\r
+Like an elephant he swells;\r
+He fills the whole room, so huge he's grown,\r
+He waxes shadowy faster and faster.\r
+Rise not up to the ceiling--down!\r
+Lay thyself at the feet of thy master!\r
+Thou seest, there's reason to dread my ire.\r
+I'll scorch thee with the holy fire!\r
+Wait not for the sight\r
+Of the thrice-glowing light!\r
+Wait not to feel the might\r
+Of the potentest spell in all my treasure!\r
+\r
+\r
+ MEPHISTOPHELES.\r
+ [_As the mist sinks, steps forth from behind the stove,\r
+ dressed as a travelling scholasticus_.]\r
+Why all this noise? What is your worship's pleasure?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. This was the poodle's essence then!\r
+A travelling clark? Ha! ha! The casus is too funny.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I bow to the most learned among men!\r
+'Faith you did sweat me without ceremony.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. What is thy name?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. The question seems too small\r
+For one who holds the _word_ so very cheaply,\r
+Who, far removed from shadows all,\r
+For substances alone seeks deeply.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. With gentlemen like him in my presence,\r
+The name is apt to express the essence,\r
+Especially if, when you inquire,\r
+You find it God of flies,[14] Destroyer, Slanderer, Liar.\r
+Well now, who art thou then?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. A portion of that power,\r
+Which wills the bad and works the good at every hour.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Beneath thy riddle-word what meaning lies?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I am the spirit that denies!\r
+And justly so; for all that time creates,\r
+He does well who annihilates!\r
+Better, it ne'er had had beginning;\r
+And so, then, all that you call sinning,\r
+Destruction,--all you pronounce ill-meant,--\r
+Is my original element.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Thou call'st thyself a part, yet lookst complete to me.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I speak the modest truth to thee.\r
+A world of folly in one little soul,\r
+_Man_ loves to think himself a whole;\r
+Part of the part am I, which once was all, the Gloom\r
+That brought forth Light itself from out her mighty womb,\r
+The upstart proud, that now with mother Night\r
+Disputes her ancient rank and space and right,\r
+Yet never shall prevail, since, do whate'er he will,\r
+He cleaves, a slave, to bodies still;\r
+From bodies flows, makes bodies fair to sight;\r
+A body in his course can check him,\r
+His doom, I therefore hope, will soon o'ertake him,\r
+With bodies merged in nothingness and night.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Ah, now I see thy high vocation!\r
+In gross thou canst not harm creation,\r
+And so in small hast now begun.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. And, truth to tell, e'en here, not much have done.\r
+That which at nothing the gauntlet has hurled,\r
+This, what's its name? this clumsy world,\r
+So far as I have undertaken,\r
+I have to own, remains unshaken\r
+By wave, storm, earthquake, fiery brand.\r
+Calm, after all, remain both sea and land.\r
+And the damn'd living fluff, of man and beast the brood,\r
+It laughs to scorn my utmost power.\r
+I've buried myriads by the hour,\r
+And still there circulates each hour a new, fresh blood.\r
+It were enough to drive one to distraction!\r
+Earth, water, air, in constant action,\r
+Through moist and dry, through warm and cold,\r
+Going forth in endless germination!\r
+Had I not claimed of fire a reservation,\r
+Not one thing I alone should hold.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Thus, with the ever-working power\r
+Of good dost thou in strife persist,\r
+And in vain malice, to this hour,\r
+Clenchest thy cold and devilish fist!\r
+Go try some other occupation,\r
+Singular son of Chaos, thou!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. We'll give the thing consideration,\r
+When next we meet again! But now\r
+Might I for once, with leave retire?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Why thou shouldst ask I do not see.\r
+Now that I know thee, when desire\r
+Shall prompt thee, freely visit me.\r
+Window and door give free admission.\r
+At least there's left the chimney flue.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Let me confess there's one small prohibition\r
+\r
+Lies on thy threshold, 'gainst my walking through,\r
+The wizard-foot--[15]\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Does that delay thee?\r
+The Pentagram disturbs thee? Now,\r
+Come tell me, son of hell, I pray thee,\r
+If that spell-binds thee, then how enteredst thou?\r
+_Thou_ shouldst proceed more circumspectly!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Mark well! the figure is not drawn correctly;\r
+One of the angles, 'tis the outer one,\r
+Is somewhat open, dost perceive it?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. That was a lucky hit, believe it!\r
+And I have caught thee then? Well done!\r
+'Twas wholly chance--I'm quite astounded!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. The _poodle_ took no heed,\r
+as through the door he bounded;\r
+The case looks differently now;\r
+The _devil_ can leave the house no-how.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. The window offers free emission.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Devils and ghosts are bound by this condition:\r
+\r
+The way they entered in, they must come out. Allow\r
+In the first clause we're free, yet not so in the second.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. In hell itself, then, laws are reckoned?\r
+Now that I like; so then, one may, in fact,\r
+Conclude a binding compact with you gentry?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Whatever promise on our books finds entry,\r
+We strictly carry into act.\r
+But hereby hangs a grave condition,\r
+Of this we'll talk when next we meet;\r
+But for the present I entreat\r
+Most urgently your kind dismission.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Do stay but just one moment longer, then,\r
+Tell me good news and I'll release thee.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Let me go now! I'll soon come back again,\r
+Then may'st thou ask whate'er shall please thee.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. I laid no snare for thee, old chap!\r
+Thou shouldst have watched and saved thy bacon.\r
+Who has the devil in his trap\r
+Must hold him fast, next time he'll not so soon be taken.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Well, if it please thee, I'm content to stay\r
+For company, on one condition,\r
+That I, for thy amusement, may\r
+To exercise my arts have free permission.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. I gladly grant it, if they be\r
+Not disagreeable to me.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Thy senses, friend, in this one hour\r
+Shall grasp the world with clearer power\r
+Than in a year's monotony.\r
+The songs the tender spirits sing thee,\r
+The lovely images they bring thee\r
+Are not an idle magic play.\r
+Thou shalt enjoy the daintiest savor,\r
+Then feast thy taste on richest flavor,\r
+Then thy charmed heart shall melt away.\r
+Come, all are here, and all have been\r
+Well trained and practised, now begin!\r
+\r
+_Spirits_. Vanish, ye gloomy\r
+ Vaulted abysses!\r
+ Tenderer, clearer,\r
+ Friendlier, nearer,\r
+ Ether, look through!\r
+ O that the darkling\r
+ Cloud-piles were riven!\r
+ Starlight is sparkling,\r
+ Purer is heaven,\r
+ Holier sunshine\r
+ Softens the blue.\r
+ Graces, adorning\r
+ Sons of the morning--\r
+ Shadowy wavings--\r
+ Float along over;\r
+ Yearnings and cravings\r
+ After them hover.\r
+ Garments ethereal,\r
+ Tresses aerial,\r
+ Float o'er the flowers,\r
+ Float o'er the bowers,\r
+ Where, with deep feeling,\r
+ Thoughtful and tender,\r
+ Lovers, embracing,\r
+ Life-vows are sealing.\r
+ Bowers on bowers!\r
+ Graceful and slender\r
+ Vines interlacing!\r
+ Purple and blushing,\r
+ Under the crushing\r
+ Wine-presses gushing,\r
+ Grape-blood, o'erflowing,\r
+ Down over gleaming\r
+ Precious stones streaming,\r
+ Leaves the bright glowing\r
+ Tops of the mountains,\r
+ Leaves the red fountains,\r
+ Widening and rushing,\r
+ Till it encloses\r
+ Green hills all flushing,\r
+ Laden with roses.\r
+ Happy ones, swarming,\r
+ Ply their swift pinions,\r
+ Glide through the charming\r
+ Airy dominions,\r
+ Sunward still fleering,\r
+ Onward, where peering\r
+ Far o'er the ocean,\r
+ Islets are dancing\r
+ With an entrancing,\r
+ Magical motion;\r
+ Hear them, in chorus,\r
+ Singing high o'er us;\r
+ Over the meadows\r
+ Flit the bright shadows;\r
+ Glad eyes are glancing,\r
+ Tiny feet dancing.\r
+ Up the high ridges\r
+ Some of them clamber,\r
+ Others are skimming\r
+ Sky-lakes of amber,\r
+ Others are swimming\r
+ Over the ocean;--\r
+ All are in motion,\r
+ Life-ward all yearning,\r
+ Longingly turning\r
+ To the far-burning\r
+ Star-light of bliss.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. He sleeps! Ye airy, tender youths, your numbers\r
+Have sung him into sweetest slumbers!\r
+You put me greatly in your debt by this.\r
+Thou art not yet the man that shall hold fast the devil!\r
+Still cheat his senses with your magic revel,\r
+Drown him in dreams of endless youth;\r
+But this charm-mountain on the sill to level,\r
+I need, O rat, thy pointed tooth!\r
+Nor need I conjure long, they're near me,\r
+E'en now comes scampering one, who presently will hear me.\r
+\r
+The sovereign lord of rats and mice,\r
+Of flies and frogs and bugs and lice,\r
+Commands thee to come forth this hour,\r
+And gnaw this threshold with great power,\r
+As he with oil the same shall smear--\r
+Ha! with a skip e'en now thou'rt here!\r
+But brisk to work! The point by which I'm cowered,\r
+Is on the ledge, the farthest forward.\r
+Yet one more bite, the deed is done.--\r
+Now, Faust, until we meet again, dream on!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. [_Waking_.] Again has witchcraft triumphed o'er me?\r
+Was it a ghostly show, so soon withdrawn?\r
+I dream, the devil stands himself before me--wake, to find a poodle gone!\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ STUDY-CHAMBER.\r
+\r
+ FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.\r
+\r
+\r
+_Faust_. A knock? Walk in! Who comes again to tease me?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. 'Tis I.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Come in!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Must say it thrice, to please me.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Come in then!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. That I like to hear.\r
+We shall, I hope, bear with each other;\r
+For to dispel thy crotchets, brother,\r
+As a young lord, I now appear,\r
+In scarlet dress, trimmed with gold lacing,\r
+A stiff silk cloak with stylish facing,\r
+A tall cock's feather in my hat,\r
+A long, sharp rapier to defend me,\r
+And I advise thee, short and flat,\r
+In the same costume to attend me;\r
+If thou wouldst, unembarrassed, see\r
+What sort of thing this life may be.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. In every dress I well may feel the sore\r
+Of this low earth-life's melancholy.\r
+I am too old to live for folly,\r
+Too young, to wish for nothing more.\r
+Am I content with all creation?\r
+Renounce! renounce! Renunciation--\r
+Such is the everlasting song\r
+That in the ears of all men rings,\r
+Which every hour, our whole life long,\r
+With brazen accents hoarsely sings.\r
+With terror I behold each morning's light,\r
+With bitter tears my eyes are filling,\r
+To see the day that shall not in its flight\r
+Fulfil for me one wish, not one, but killing\r
+Every presentiment of zest\r
+With wayward skepticism, chases\r
+The fair creations from my breast\r
+With all life's thousand cold grimaces.\r
+And when at night I stretch me on my bed\r
+And darkness spreads its shadow o'er me;\r
+No rest comes then anigh my weary head,\r
+Wild dreams and spectres dance before me.\r
+The God who dwells within my soul\r
+Can heave its depths at any hour;\r
+Who holds o'er all my faculties control\r
+Has o'er the outer world no power;\r
+Existence lies a load upon my breast,\r
+Life is a curse and death a long'd-for rest.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. And yet death never proves a wholly welcome guest.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. O blest! for whom, when victory's joy fire blazes,\r
+Death round his brow the bloody laurel windeth,\r
+Whom, weary with the dance's mazes,\r
+He on a maiden's bosom findeth.\r
+O that, beneath the exalted spirit's power,\r
+I had expired, in rapture sinking!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. And yet I knew one, in a midnight hour,\r
+Who a brown liquid shrank from drinking.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Eaves-dropping seems a favorite game with thee.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Omniscient am I not; yet much is known to me.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Since that sweet tone, with fond appealing,\r
+Drew me from witchcraft's horrid maze,\r
+And woke the lingering childlike feeling\r
+With harmonies of happier days;\r
+My curse on all the mock-creations\r
+That weave their spell around the soul,\r
+And bind it with their incantations\r
+And orgies to this wretched hole!\r
+Accursed be the high opinion\r
+Hugged by the self-exalting mind!\r
+Accursed all the dream-dominion\r
+That makes the dazzled senses blind!\r
+Curs'd be each vision that befools us,\r
+Of fame, outlasting earthly life!\r
+Curs'd all that, as possession, rules us,\r
+As house and barn, as child and wife!\r
+Accurs'd be mammon, when with treasure\r
+He fires our hearts for deeds of might,\r
+When, for a dream of idle pleasure,\r
+He makes our pillow smooth and light!\r
+Curs'd be the grape-vine's balsam-juices!\r
+On love's high grace my curses fall!\r
+On faith! On hope that man seduces,\r
+On patience last, not least, of all!\r
+\r
+_Choir of spirits_. [_Invisible_.] Woe! Woe!\r
+ Thou hast ground it to dust,\r
+ The beautiful world,\r
+ With mighty fist;\r
+ To ruins 'tis hurled;\r
+ A demi-god's blow hath done it!\r
+ A moment we look upon it,\r
+ Then carry (sad duty!)\r
+ The fragments over into nothingness,\r
+ With tears unavailing\r
+ Bewailing\r
+ All the departed beauty.\r
+ Lordlier\r
+ Than all sons of men,\r
+ Proudlier\r
+ Build it again,\r
+ Build it up in thy breast anew!\r
+ A fresh career pursue,\r
+ Before thee\r
+ A clearer view,\r
+ And, from the Empyréan,\r
+ A new-born Paean\r
+ Shall greet thee, too!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Be pleased to admire\r
+ My juvenile choir!\r
+ Hear how they counsel in manly measure\r
+ Action and pleasure!\r
+ Out into life,\r
+ Its joy and strife,\r
+ Away from this lonely hole,\r
+ Where senses and soul\r
+ Rot in stagnation,\r
+ Calls thee their high invitation.\r
+\r
+Give over toying with thy sorrow\r
+Which like a vulture feeds upon thy heart;\r
+Thou shalt, in the worst company, to-morrow\r
+Feel that with men a man thou art.\r
+Yet I do not exactly intend\r
+Among the canaille to plant thee.\r
+I'm none of your magnates, I grant thee;\r
+Yet if thou art willing, my friend,\r
+Through life to jog on beside me,\r
+Thy pleasure in all things shall guide me,\r
+To thee will I bind me,\r
+A friend thou shalt find me,\r
+And, e'en to the grave,\r
+Shalt make me thy servant, make me thy slave!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. And in return what service shall I render?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. There's ample grace--no hurry, not the least.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. No, no, the devil is an egotist,\r
+And does not easily "for God's sake" tender\r
+That which a neighbor may assist.\r
+Speak plainly the conditions, come!\r
+'Tis dangerous taking such a servant home.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I to thy service _here_ agree to bind me,\r
+To run and never rest at call of thee;\r
+When _over yonder_ thou shalt find me,\r
+Then thou shalt do as much for me.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. I care not much what's over yonder:\r
+When thou hast knocked this world asunder,\r
+Come if it will the other may!\r
+Up from this earth my pleasures all are streaming,\r
+Down on my woes this earthly sun is beaming;\r
+Let me but end this fit of dreaming,\r
+Then come what will, I've nought to say.\r
+I'll hear no more of barren wonder\r
+If in that world they hate and love,\r
+And whether in that future yonder\r
+There's a Below and an Above.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles._ In such a mood thou well mayst venture.\r
+Bind thyself to me, and by this indenture\r
+Thou shalt enjoy with relish keen\r
+Fruits of my arts that man had never seen.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. And what hast thou to give, poor devil?\r
+Was e'er a human mind, upon its lofty level,\r
+Conceived of by the like of thee?\r
+Yet hast thou food that brings satiety,\r
+Not satisfaction; gold that reftlessly,\r
+Like quicksilver, melts down within\r
+The hands; a game in which men never win;\r
+A maid that, hanging on my breast,\r
+Ogles a neighbor with her wanton glances;\r
+Of fame the glorious godlike zest,\r
+That like a short-lived meteor dances--\r
+Show me the fruit that, ere it's plucked, will rot,\r
+And trees from which new green is daily peeping!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Such a requirement scares me not;\r
+Such treasures have I in my keeping.\r
+Yet shall there also come a time, good friend,\r
+When we may feast on good things at our leisure.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. If e'er I lie content upon a lounge of pleasure--\r
+Then let there be of me an end!\r
+When thou with flattery canst cajole me,\r
+Till I self-satisfied shall be,\r
+When thou with pleasure canst befool me,\r
+Be that the last of days for me!\r
+I lay the wager!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Done!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. And heartily!\r
+Whenever to the passing hour\r
+I cry: O stay! thou art so fair!\r
+To chain me down I give thee power\r
+To the black bottom of despair!\r
+Then let my knell no longer linger,\r
+Then from my service thou art free,\r
+Fall from the clock the index-finger,\r
+Be time all over, then, for me!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Think well, for we shall hold you to the letter.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Full right to that just now I gave;\r
+I spoke not as an idle braggart better.\r
+Henceforward I remain a slave,\r
+What care I who puts on the setter?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I shall this very day, at Doctor's-feast,[16]\r
+My bounden service duly pay thee.\r
+But one thing!--For insurance' sake, I pray thee,\r
+Grant me a line or two, at least.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Pedant! will writing gain thy faith, alone?\r
+In all thy life, no man, nor man's word hast thou known?\r
+Is't not enough that I the fatal word\r
+That passes on my future days have spoken?\r
+The world-stream raves and rushes (hast not heard?)\r
+And shall a promise hold, unbroken?\r
+Yet this delusion haunts the human breast,\r
+Who from his soul its roots would sever?\r
+Thrice happy in whose heart pure truth finds rest.\r
+No sacrifice shall he repent of ever!\r
+But from a formal, written, sealed attest,\r
+As from a spectre, all men shrink forever.\r
+The word and spirit die together,\r
+Killed by the sight of wax and leather.\r
+What wilt thou, evil sprite, from me?\r
+Brass, marble, parchment, paper, shall it be?\r
+Shall I subscribe with pencil, pen or graver?\r
+Among them all thy choice is free.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. This rhetoric of thine to me\r
+Hath a somewhat bombastic savor.\r
+Any small scrap of paper's good.\r
+Thy signature will need a single drop of blood.[17]\r
+\r
+_Faust_. If this will satisfy thy mood,\r
+I will consent thy whim to favor.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles._ Quite a peculiar juice is blood.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Fear not that I shall break this bond; O, never!\r
+My promise, rightly understood,\r
+Fulfils my nature's whole endeavor.\r
+I've puffed myself too high, I see;\r
+To _thy_ rank only I belong.\r
+The Lord of Spirits scorneth me,\r
+Nature, shut up, resents the wrong.\r
+The thread of thought is snapt asunder,\r
+All science to me is a stupid blunder.\r
+Let us in sensuality's deep\r
+Quench the passions within us blazing!\r
+And, the veil of sorcery raising,\r
+Wake each miracle from its long sleep!\r
+Plunge we into the billowy dance,\r
+The rush and roll of time and chance!\r
+Then may pleasure and distress,\r
+Disappointment and success,\r
+Follow each other as fast as they will;\r
+Man's restless activity flourishes still.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. No bound or goal is set to you;\r
+Where'er you like to wander sipping,\r
+And catch a tit-bit in your skipping,\r
+Eschew all coyness, just fall to,\r
+And may you find a good digestion!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Now, once for all, pleasure is not the question.\r
+I'm sworn to passion's whirl, the agony of bliss,\r
+The lover's hate, the sweets of bitterness.\r
+My heart, no more by pride of science driven,\r
+Shall open wide to let each sorrow enter,\r
+And all the good that to man's race is given,\r
+I will enjoy it to my being's centre,\r
+Through life's whole range, upward and downward sweeping,\r
+Their weal and woe upon my bosom heaping,\r
+Thus in my single self their selves all comprehending\r
+And with them in a common shipwreck ending.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. O trust me, who since first I fell from heaven,\r
+Have chewed this tough meat many a thousand year,\r
+No man digests the ancient leaven,\r
+No mortal, from the cradle to the bier.\r
+Trust one of _us_--the _whole_ creation\r
+To God alone belongs by right;\r
+_He_ has in endless day his habitation,\r
+_Us_ He hath made for utter night,\r
+_You_ for alternate dark and light.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. But then I _will!_\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Now that's worth hearing!\r
+But one thing haunts me, the old song,\r
+That time is short and art is long.\r
+You need some slight advice, I'm fearing.\r
+Take to you one of the poet-feather,\r
+Let the gentleman's thought, far-sweeping,\r
+Bring all the noblest traits together,\r
+On your one crown their honors heaping,\r
+The lion's mood\r
+The stag's rapidity,\r
+The fiery blood of Italy,\r
+The Northman's hardihood.\r
+Bid him teach thee the art of combining\r
+Greatness of soul with fly designing,\r
+And how, with warm and youthful passion,\r
+To fall in love by plan and fashion.\r
+Should like, myself, to come across 'm,\r
+Would name him Mr. Microcosm.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. What am I then? if that for which my heart\r
+Yearns with invincible endeavor,\r
+The crown of man, must hang unreached forever?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Thou art at last--just what thou art.\r
+Pile perukes on thy head whose curls cannot be counted,\r
+On yard-high buskins let thy feet be mounted,\r
+Still thou art only what thou art.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Yes, I have vainly, let me not deny it,\r
+Of human learning ransacked all the stores,\r
+And when, at last, I set me down in quiet,\r
+There gushes up within no new-born force;\r
+I am not by a hair's-breadth higher,\r
+Am to the Infinite no nigher.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. My worthy sir, you see the matter\r
+As people generally see;\r
+But we must learn to take things better,\r
+Before life pleasures wholly flee.\r
+The deuce! thy head and all that's in it,\r
+Hands, feet and ------ are thine;\r
+What I enjoy with zest each minute,\r
+Is surely not the less mine?\r
+If I've six horses in my span,\r
+Is it not mine, their every power?\r
+I fly along as an undoubted man,\r
+On four and twenty legs the road I scour.\r
+Cheer up, then! let all thinking be,\r
+And out into the world with me!\r
+I tell thee, friend, a speculating churl\r
+Is like a beast, some evil spirit chases\r
+Along a barren heath in one perpetual whirl,\r
+While round about lie fair, green pasturing places.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. But how shall we begin?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. We sally forth e'en now.\r
+What martyrdom endurest thou!\r
+What kind of life is this to be living,\r
+Ennui to thyself and youngsters giving?\r
+Let Neighbor Belly that way go!\r
+To stay here threshing straw why car'st thou?\r
+The best that thou canst think and know\r
+To tell the boys not for the whole world dar'st thou.\r
+E'en now I hear one in the entry.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. I have no heart the youth to see.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. The poor boy waits there like a sentry,\r
+He shall not want a word from me.\r
+Come, give me, now, thy robe and bonnet;\r
+This mask will suit me charmingly.\r
+ [_He puts them on_.]\r
+Now for my wit--rely upon it!\r
+'Twill take but fifteen minutes, I am sure.\r
+Meanwhile prepare thyself to make the pleasant tour!\r
+\r
+ [_Exit_ FAUST.]\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles [in_ FAUST'S _long gown_].\r
+Only despise all human wit and lore,\r
+The highest flights that thought can soar--\r
+Let but the lying spirit blind thee,\r
+And with his spells of witchcraft bind thee,\r
+Into my snare the victim creeps.--\r
+To him has destiny a spirit given,\r
+That unrestrainedly still onward sweeps,\r
+To scale the skies long since hath striven,\r
+And all earth's pleasures overleaps.\r
+He shall through life's wild scenes be driven,\r
+And through its flat unmeaningness,\r
+I'll make him writhe and stare and stiffen,\r
+And midst all sensual excess,\r
+His fevered lips, with thirst all parched and riven,\r
+Insatiably shall haunt refreshment's brink;\r
+And had he not, himself, his soul to Satan given,\r
+Still must he to perdition sink!\r
+\r
+ [_Enter_ A SCHOLAR.]\r
+\r
+_Scholar_. I have but lately left my home,\r
+And with profound submission come,\r
+To hold with one some conversation\r
+Whom all men name with veneration.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles._ Your courtesy greatly flatters me\r
+A man like many another you see.\r
+Have you made any applications elsewhere?\r
+\r
+_Scholar_. Let me, I pray, your teachings share!\r
+With all good dispositions I come,\r
+A fresh young blood and money some;\r
+My mother would hardly hear of my going;\r
+But I long to learn here something worth knowing.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. You've come to the very place for it, then.\r
+\r
+_Scholar_. Sincerely, could wish I were off again:\r
+My soul already has grown quite weary\r
+Of walls and halls, so dark and dreary,\r
+The narrowness oppresses me.\r
+One sees no green thing, not a tree.\r
+On the lecture-seats, I know not what ails me,\r
+Sight, hearing, thinking, every thing fails me.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. 'Tis all in use, we daily see.\r
+The child takes not the mother's breast\r
+In the first instance willingly,\r
+But soon it feeds itself with zest.\r
+So you at wisdom's breast your pleasure\r
+Will daily find in growing measure.\r
+\r
+_Scholar_. I'll hang upon her neck, a raptured wooer,\r
+But only tell me, who shall lead me to her?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Ere you go further, give your views\r
+As to which faculty you choose?\r
+\r
+_Scholar_. To be right learn'd I've long desired,\r
+And of the natural world aspired\r
+To have a perfect comprehension\r
+In this and in the heavenly sphere.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I see you're on the right track here;\r
+But you'll have to give undivided attention.\r
+\r
+_Scholar_. My heart and soul in the work'll be found;\r
+Only, of course, it would give me pleasure,\r
+When summer holidays come round,\r
+To have for amusement a little leisure.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Use well the precious time, it flips away so,\r
+Yet method gains you time, if I may say so.\r
+I counsel you therefore, my worthy friend,\r
+The logical leisures first to attend.\r
+Then is your mind well trained and cased\r
+In Spanish boots,[18] all snugly laced,\r
+So that henceforth it can creep ahead\r
+On the road of thought with a cautious tread.\r
+And not at random shoot and strike,\r
+Zig-zagging Jack-o'-lanthorn-like.\r
+Then will you many a day be taught\r
+That what you once to do had thought\r
+Like eating and drinking, extempore,\r
+Requires the rule of one, two, three.\r
+It is, to be sure, with the fabric of thought,\r
+As with the _chef d'œuvre_ by weavers wrought,\r
+Where a thousand threads one treadle plies,\r
+Backward and forward the shuttles keep going,\r
+Invisibly the threads keep flowing,\r
+One stroke a thousand fastenings ties:\r
+Comes the philosopher and cries:\r
+I'll show you, it could not be otherwise:\r
+The first being so, the second so,\r
+The third and fourth must of course be so;\r
+And were not the first and second, you see,\r
+The third and fourth could never be.\r
+The scholars everywhere call this clever,\r
+But none have yet become weavers ever.\r
+Whoever will know a live thing and expound it,\r
+First kills out the spirit it had when he found it,\r
+And then the parts are all in his hand,\r
+Minus only the spiritual band!\r
+Encheiresin naturæ's[19] the chemical name,\r
+By which dunces themselves unwittingly shame.\r
+\r
+_Scholar_. Cannot entirely comprehend you.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Better success will shortly attend you,\r
+When you learn to analyze all creation\r
+And give it a proper classification.\r
+\r
+_Scholar_. I feel as confused by all you've said,\r
+As if 'twere a mill-wheel going round in my head!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. The next thing most important to mention,\r
+Metaphysics will claim your attention!\r
+There see that you can clearly explain\r
+What fits not into the human brain:\r
+For that which will not go into the head,\r
+A pompous word will stand you in stead.\r
+But, this half-year, at least, observe\r
+From regularity never to swerve.\r
+You'll have five lectures every day;\r
+Be in at the stroke of the bell I pray!\r
+And well prepared in every part;\r
+Study each paragraph by heart,\r
+So that you scarce may need to look\r
+To see that he says no more than's in the book;\r
+And when he dictates, be at your post,\r
+As if you wrote for the Holy Ghost!\r
+\r
+_Scholar_. That caution is unnecessary!\r
+I know it profits one to write,\r
+For what one has in black and white,\r
+He to his home can safely carry.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. But choose some faculty, I pray!\r
+\r
+_Scholar_. I feel a strong dislike to try the legal college.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I cannot blame you much, I must acknowledge.\r
+I know how this profession stands to-day.\r
+Statutes and laws through all the ages\r
+Like a transmitted malady you trace;\r
+In every generation still it rages\r
+And softly creeps from place to place.\r
+Reason is nonsense, right an impudent suggestion;\r
+Alas for thee, that thou a grandson art!\r
+Of inborn law in which each man has part,\r
+Of that, unfortunately, there's no question.\r
+\r
+_Scholar_. My loathing grows beneath your speech.\r
+O happy he whom you shall teach!\r
+To try theology I'm almost minded.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I must not let you by zeal be blinded.\r
+This is a science through whose field\r
+Nine out of ten in the wrong road will blunder,\r
+And in it so much poison lies concealed,\r
+That mould you this mistake for physic, no great wonder.\r
+Here also it were best, if only one you heard\r
+And swore to that one master's word.\r
+Upon the whole--words only heed you!\r
+These through the temple door will lead you\r
+Safe to the shrine of certainty.\r
+\r
+_Scholar_. Yet in the word a thought must surely be.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. All right! But one must not perplex himself about it;\r
+For just where one must go without it,\r
+The word comes in, a friend in need, to thee.\r
+With words can one dispute most featly,\r
+With words build up a system neatly,\r
+In words thy faith may stand unshaken,\r
+From words there can be no iota taken.\r
+\r
+_Scholar_. Forgive my keeping you with many questions,\r
+Yet must I trouble you once more,\r
+Will you not give me, on the score\r
+Of medicine, some brief suggestions?\r
+Three years are a short time, O God!\r
+And then the field is quite too broad.\r
+If one had only before his nose\r
+Something else as a hint to follow!--\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_ [_aside_]. I'm heartily tired of this dry prose,\r
+Must play the devil again out hollow.\r
+ [_Aloud_.]\r
+The healing art is quickly comprehended;\r
+Through great and little world you look abroad,\r
+And let it wag, when all is ended,\r
+As pleases God.\r
+Vain is it that your science sweeps the skies,\r
+Each, after all, learns only what he can;\r
+Who grasps the moment as it flies\r
+He is the real man.\r
+Your person somewhat takes the eye,\r
+Boldness you'll find an easy science,\r
+And if you on yourself rely,\r
+Others on you will place reliance.\r
+In the women's good graces seek first to be seated;\r
+Their oh's and ah's, well known of old,\r
+So thousand-fold,\r
+Are all from a single point to be treated;\r
+Be decently modest and then with ease\r
+You may get the blind side of them when you please.\r
+A title, first, their confidence must waken,\r
+That _your_ art many another art transcends,\r
+Then may you, lucky man, on all those trifles reckon\r
+For which another years of groping spends:\r
+Know how to press the little pulse that dances,\r
+And fearlessly, with sly and fiery glances,\r
+Clasp the dear creatures round the waist\r
+To see how tightly they are laced.\r
+\r
+_Scholar_. This promises! One loves the How and Where to see!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Gray, worthy friend, is all your theory\r
+And green the golden tree of life.\r
+\r
+_Scholar_. I seem,\r
+I swear to you, like one who walks in dream.\r
+Might I another time, without encroaching,\r
+Hear you the deepest things of wisdom broaching?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. So far as I have power, you may.\r
+\r
+_Scholar_. I cannot tear myself away,\r
+Till I to you my album have presented.\r
+Grant me one line and I'm contented!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. With pleasure.\r
+ [_Writes and returns it_.]\r
+\r
+_Scholar [reads]._ Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum.\r
+ [_Shuts it reverently, and bows himself out_.]\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_.\r
+Let but the brave old saw and my aunt, the serpent, guide thee,\r
+And, with thy likeness to God, shall woe one day betide thee!\r
+\r
+_Faust [enters_]. Which way now shall we go?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Which way it pleases thee.\r
+The little world and then the great we see.\r
+O with what gain, as well as pleasure,\r
+Wilt thou the rollicking cursus measure!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. I fear the easy life and free\r
+With my long beard will scarce agree.\r
+'Tis vain for me to think of succeeding,\r
+I never could learn what is called good-breeding.\r
+In the presence of others I feel so small;\r
+I never can be at my ease at all.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Dear friend, vain trouble to yourself you're giving;\r
+Whence once you trust yourself, you know the art of living.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. But how are we to start, I pray?\r
+Where are thy servants, coach and horses?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. We spread the mantle, and away\r
+It bears us on our airy courses.\r
+But, on this bold excursion, thou\r
+Must take no great portmanteau now.\r
+A little oxygen, which I will soon make ready,\r
+From earth uplifts us, quick and steady.\r
+And if we're light, we'll soon surmount the sphere;\r
+I give thee hearty joy in this thy new career.\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ AUERBACH'S CELLAR IN LEIPSIC.[20]\r
+\r
+ _Carousal of Jolly Companions_.\r
+\r
+\r
+_Frosch_.[21] Will nobody drink? Stop those grimaces!\r
+I'll teach you how to be cutting your faces!\r
+Laugh out! You're like wet straw to-day,\r
+And blaze, at other times, like dry hay.\r
+\r
+_Brander_. 'Tis all your fault; no food for fun you bring,\r
+Not a nonsensical nor nasty thing.\r
+\r
+_Frosch [dashes a glass of wine over his bead_]. There you have both!\r
+\r
+_Brander_. You hog twice o'er!\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. You wanted it, what would you more?\r
+\r
+_Siebel_ Out of the door with them that brawl!\r
+Strike up a round; swill, shout there, one and all!\r
+Wake up! Hurra!\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. Woe's me, I'm lost! Bring cotton!\r
+The rascal splits my ear-drum.\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. Only shout on!\r
+When all the arches ring and yell,\r
+Then does the base make felt its true ground-swell.\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. That's right, just throw him out, who undertakes to fret!\r
+A! tara! lara da!\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. A! tara! lara da!\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. Our whistles all are wet.\r
+ [_Sings_.]\r
+ The dear old holy Romish realm,\r
+ What holds it still together?\r
+\r
+_Brander_. A sorry song! Fie! a political song!\r
+A tiresome song! Thank God each morning therefor,\r
+That you have not the Romish realm to care for!\r
+At least I count it a great gain that He\r
+Kaiser nor chancellor has made of me.\r
+E'en we can't do without a head, however;\r
+To choose a pope let us endeavour.\r
+You know what qualification throws\r
+The casting vote and the true man shows.\r
+\r
+_Frosch [sings_].\r
+ Lady Nightingale, upward soar,\r
+ Greet me my darling ten thousand times o'er.\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. No greetings to that girl! Who does so, I resent it!\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. A greeting and a kiss! And you will not prevent it!\r
+ [_Sings.]_\r
+ Draw the bolts! the night is clear.\r
+ Draw the bolts! Love watches near.\r
+ Close the bolts! the dawn is here.\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. Ay, sing away and praise and glorify your dear!\r
+Soon I shall have my time for laughter.\r
+The jade has jilted me, and will you too hereafter;\r
+May Kobold, for a lover, be her luck!\r
+At night may he upon the cross-way meet her;\r
+Or, coming from the Blocksberg, some old buck\r
+May, as he gallops by, a good-night bleat her!\r
+A fellow fine of real flesh and blood\r
+Is for the wench a deal too good.\r
+She'll get from me but one love-token,\r
+That is to have her window broken!\r
+\r
+_Brander [striking on the table_]. Attend! attend! To me give ear!\r
+I know what's life, ye gents, confess it:\r
+We've lovesick people sitting near,\r
+And it is proper they should hear\r
+A good-night strain as well as I can dress it.\r
+Give heed! And hear a bran-new song!\r
+Join in the chorus loud and strong!\r
+ [_He sings_.]\r
+ A rat in the cellar had built his nest,\r
+ He daily grew sleeker and smoother,\r
+ He lined his paunch from larder and chest,\r
+ And was portly as Doctor Luther.\r
+ The cook had set him poison one day;\r
+ From that time forward he pined away\r
+ As if he had love in his body.\r
+\r
+_Chorus [flouting_]. As if he had love in his body.\r
+\r
+_Brander_. He raced about with a terrible touse,\r
+ From all the puddles went swilling,\r
+ He gnawed and he scratched all over the house,\r
+ His pain there was no stilling;\r
+ He made full many a jump of distress,\r
+ And soon the poor beast got enough, I guess,\r
+ As if he had love in his body.\r
+\r
+_Chorus_. As if he had love in his body.\r
+\r
+_Brander_. With pain he ran, in open day,\r
+ Right up into the kitchen;\r
+ He fell on the hearth and there he lay\r
+ Gasping and moaning and twitchin'.\r
+ Then laughed the poisoner: "He! he! he!\r
+ He's piping on the last hole," said she,\r
+ "As if he had love in his body."\r
+\r
+_Chorus_. As if he had love in his body.\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. Just hear now how the ninnies giggle!\r
+That's what I call a genuine art,\r
+To make poor rats with poison wriggle!\r
+\r
+_Brander_. You take their case so much to heart?\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. The bald pate and the butter-belly!\r
+The sad tale makes him mild and tame;\r
+He sees in the swollen rat, poor fellow!\r
+His own true likeness set in a frame.\r
+\r
+\r
+ FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Now, first of all, 'tis necessary\r
+To show you people making merry,\r
+That you may see how lightly life can run.\r
+Each day to this small folk's a feast of fun;\r
+Not over-witty, self-contented,\r
+Still round and round in circle-dance they whirl,\r
+As with their tails young kittens twirl.\r
+If with no headache they're tormented,\r
+Nor dunned by landlord for his pay,\r
+They're careless, unconcerned, and gay.\r
+\r
+_Brander_. They're fresh from travel, one might know it,\r
+Their air and manner plainly show it;\r
+They came here not an hour ago.\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. Thou verily art right! My Leipsic well I know!\r
+Paris in small it is, and cultivates its people.\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. What do the strangers seem to thee?\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. Just let me go! When wine our friendship mellows,\r
+Easy as drawing a child's tooth 'twill be\r
+To worm their secrets out of these two fellows.\r
+They're of a noble house, I dare to swear,\r
+They have a proud and discontented air.\r
+\r
+_Brander_. They're mountebanks, I'll bet a dollar!\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. Perhaps.\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. I'll smoke them, mark you that!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_ [_to Faust_]. These people never smell the old rat,\r
+E'en when he has them by the collar.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Fair greeting to you, sirs!\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. The same, and thanks to boot.\r
+ [_In a low tone, faking a side look at MEPHISTOPHELES_.]\r
+Why has the churl one halting foot?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. With your permission, shall we make one party?\r
+Instead of a good drink, which get here no one can,\r
+Good company must make us hearty.\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. You seem a very fastidious man.\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. I think you spent some time at Rippach[22] lately?\r
+You supped with Mister Hans not long since, I dare say?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. We passed him on the road today!\r
+Fine man! it grieved us parting with him, greatly.\r
+He'd much to say to us about his cousins,\r
+And sent to each, through us, his compliments by dozens.\r
+ [_He bows to_ FROSCH.]\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_ [_softly_]. You've got it there! he takes!\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. The chap don't want for wit!\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. I'll have him next time, wait a bit!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. If I mistook not, didn't we hear\r
+Some well-trained voices chorus singing?\r
+'Faith, music must sound finely here.\r
+From all these echoing arches ringing!\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. You are perhaps a connoisseur?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. O no! my powers are small, I'm but an amateur.\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. Give us a song!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. As many's you desire.\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. But let it be a bran-new strain!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. No fear of that! We've just come back from Spain,\r
+The lovely land of wine and song and lyre.\r
+ [_Sings_.]\r
+ There was a king, right stately,\r
+ Who had a great, big flea,--\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. Hear him! A flea! D'ye take there, boys? A flea!\r
+I call that genteel company.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_ [_resumes_]. There was a king, right stately,\r
+ Who had a great, big flea,\r
+ And loved him very greatly,\r
+ As if his own son were he.\r
+ He called the knight of stitches;\r
+ The tailor came straightway:\r
+ Ho! measure the youngster for breeches,\r
+ And make him a coat to-day!\r
+\r
+_Brander_. But don't forget to charge the knight of stitches,\r
+The measure carefully to take,\r
+And, as he loves his precious neck,\r
+To leave no wrinkles in the breeches.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. In silk and velvet splendid\r
+ The creature now was drest,\r
+ To his coat were ribbons appended,\r
+ A cross was on his breast.\r
+ He had a great star on his collar,\r
+ Was a minister, in short;\r
+ And his relatives, greater and smaller,\r
+ Became great people at court.\r
+\r
+ The lords and ladies of honor\r
+ Fared worse than if they were hung,\r
+ The queen, she got them upon her,\r
+ And all were bitten and stung,\r
+ And did not dare to attack them,\r
+ Nor scratch, but let them stick.\r
+ We choke them and we crack them\r
+ The moment we feel one prick.\r
+\r
+_Chorus_ [_loud_]. We choke 'em and we crack 'em\r
+The moment we feel one prick.\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. Bravo! Bravo! That was fine!\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. So shall each flea his life resign!\r
+\r
+_Brander_. Point your fingers and nip them fine!\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. Hurra for Liberty! Hurra for Wine!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I'd pledge the goddess, too, to show how high I set her,\r
+Right gladly, if your wines were just a trifle better.\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. Don't say that thing again, you fretter!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Did I not fear the landlord to affront;\r
+I'd show these worthy guests this minute\r
+What kind of stuff our stock has in it.\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. Just bring it on! I'll bear the brunt.\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. Give us a brimming glass, our praise shall then be ample,\r
+But don't dole out too small a sample;\r
+For if I'm to judge and criticize,\r
+I need a good mouthful to make me wise.\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_ [_softly_]. They're from the Rhine, as near as I can make it.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Bring us a gimlet here!\r
+\r
+_Brander_. What shall be done with that?\r
+You've not the casks before the door, I take it?\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. The landlord's tool-chest there is easily got at.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_ [_takes the gimlet_] (_to Frosch_).\r
+What will you have? It costs but speaking.\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. How do you mean? Have you so many kinds?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Enough to suit all sorts of minds.\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. Aha! old sot, your lips already licking!\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. Well, then! if I must choose, let Rhine-wine fill my beaker,\r
+Our fatherland supplies the noblest liquor.\r
+\r
+ MEPHISTOPHELES\r
+ [_boring a hole in the rim of the table near the place\r
+ where_ FROSCH _sits_].\r
+Get us a little wax right off to make the stoppers!\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. Ah, these are jugglers' tricks, and whappers!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_ [_to Brander_]. And you?\r
+\r
+_Brander_. Champaigne's the wine for me,\r
+But then right sparkling it must be!\r
+\r
+ [MEPHISTOPHELES _bores; meanwhile one of them has made\r
+ the wax-stoppers and stopped the holes_.]\r
+\r
+_Brander_. Hankerings for foreign things will sometimes haunt you,\r
+The good so far one often finds;\r
+Your real German man can't bear the French, I grant you,\r
+And yet will gladly drink their wines.\r
+\r
+_Siebel_ [_while Mephistopheles approaches his seat_].\r
+I don't like sour, it sets my mouth awry,\r
+Let mine have real sweetness in it!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_ [_bores_]. Well, you shall have Tokay this minute.\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. No, sirs, just look me in the eye!\r
+I see through this, 'tis what the chaps call smoking.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Come now! That would be serious joking,\r
+To make so free with worthy men.\r
+But quickly now! Speak out again!\r
+With what description can I serve you?\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. Wait not to ask; with any, then.\r
+\r
+ [_After all the holes are bored and stopped_.]\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_ [_with singular gestures_].\r
+From the vine-stock grapes we pluck;\r
+Horns grow on the buck;\r
+Wine is juicy, the wooden table,\r
+Like wooden vines, to give wine is able.\r
+An eye for nature's depths receive!\r
+Here is a miracle, only believe!\r
+Now draw the plugs and drink your fill!\r
+\r
+ ALL\r
+ [_drawing the stoppers, and catching each in his glass\r
+ the wine he had desired_].\r
+Sweet spring, that yields us what we will!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Only be careful not a drop to spill!\r
+ [_They drink repeatedly_.]\r
+\r
+_All_ [_sing_]. We're happy all as cannibals,\r
+ Five hundred hogs together.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Look at them now, they're happy as can be!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. To go would suit my inclination.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. But first give heed, their bestiality\r
+Will make a glorious demonstration.\r
+\r
+ SIEBEL\r
+ [_drinks carelessly; the wine is spilt upon the ground\r
+ and turns to flame_].\r
+Help! fire! Ho! Help! The flames of hell!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles [_conjuring the flame_].\r
+Peace, friendly element, be still!\r
+ [_To the Toper_.]\r
+This time 'twas but a drop of fire from purgatory.\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. What does this mean? Wait there, or you'll be sorry!\r
+It seems you do not know us well.\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. Not twice, in this way, will it do to joke us!\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. I vote, we give him leave himself here _scarce_ to make.\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. What, sir! How dare you undertake\r
+To carry on here your old hocus-pocus?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Be still, old wine-cask!\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. Broomstick, you!\r
+Insult to injury add? Confound you!\r
+\r
+_Brander_. Stop there! Or blows shall rain down round you!\r
+\r
+ ALTMAYER\r
+ [_draws a stopper out of the table; fire flies at him_].\r
+I burn! I burn!\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. Foul sorcery! Shame!\r
+Lay on! the rascal is fair game!\r
+\r
+ [_They draw their knives and rush at_ MEPHISTOPHELES.]\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_ [_with a serious mien_].\r
+Word and shape of air!\r
+Change place, new meaning wear!\r
+Be here--and there!\r
+\r
+ [_They stand astounded and look at each other_.]\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. Where am I? What a charming land!\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. Vine hills! My eyes! Is't true?\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. And grapes, too, close at hand!\r
+\r
+_Brander_. Beneath this green see what a stem is growing!\r
+See what a bunch of grapes is glowing!\r
+ [_He seizes_ SIEBEL _by the nose. The rest do the same to each\r
+ other and raise their knives._]\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_ [_as above_]. Loose, Error, from their eyes the band!\r
+How Satan plays his tricks, you need not now be told of.\r
+ [_He vanishes with_ FAUST, _the companions start back from each\r
+ other_.]\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. What ails me?\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. How?\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. Was that thy nose, friend, I had hold of?\r
+\r
+_Brander_ [_to Siebel_]. And I have thine, too, in my hand!\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. O what a shock! through all my limbs 'tis crawling!\r
+Get me a chair, be quick, I'm falling!\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. No, say what was the real case?\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. O show me where the churl is hiding!\r
+Alive he shall not leave the place!\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. Out through the cellar-door I saw him riding--\r
+Upon a cask--he went full chase.--\r
+Heavy as lead my feet are growing.\r
+\r
+ [_Turning towards the table_.]\r
+\r
+My! If the wine should yet be flowing.\r
+\r
+_Siebel_. 'Twas all deception and moonshine.\r
+\r
+_Frosch_. Yet I was sure I did drink wine.\r
+\r
+_Brander_. But how about the bunches, brother?\r
+\r
+_Altmayer_. After such miracles, I'll doubt no other!\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ WITCHES' KITCHEN.\r
+\r
+ [_On a low hearth stands a great kettle over the fire. In the smoke,\r
+which rises from it, are seen various forms. A female monkey[28] sits by\r
+the kettle and skims it, and takes care that it does not run over. The\r
+male monkey with the young ones sits close by, warming himself. Walls and\r
+ceiling are adorned 'with the most singular witch-household stuff_.]\r
+\r
+\r
+ FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Would that this vile witch-business were well over!\r
+Dost promise me I shall recover\r
+In this hodge-podge of craziness?\r
+From an old hag do I advice require?\r
+And will this filthy cooked-up mess\r
+My youth by thirty years bring nigher?\r
+Woe's me, if that's the best you know!\r
+Already hope is from my bosom banished.\r
+Has not a noble mind found long ago\r
+Some balsam to restore a youth that's vanished?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. My friend, again thou speakest a wise thought!\r
+I know a natural way to make thee young,--none apter!\r
+But in another book it must be sought,\r
+And is a quite peculiar chapter.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. I beg to know it.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Well! here's one that needs no pay,\r
+No help of physic, nor enchanting.\r
+Out to the fields without delay,\r
+And take to hacking, digging, planting;\r
+Run the same round from day to day,\r
+A treadmill-life, contented, leading,\r
+With simple fare both mind and body feeding,\r
+Live with the beast as beast, nor count it robbery\r
+Shouldst thou manure, thyself, the field thou reapest;\r
+Follow this course and, trust to me,\r
+For eighty years thy youth thou keepest!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. I am not used to that, I ne'er could bring me to it,\r
+To wield the spade, I could not do it.\r
+The narrow life befits me not at all.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. So must we on the witch, then, call.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. But why just that old hag? Canst thou\r
+Not brew thyself the needful liquor?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. That were a pretty pastime now\r
+I'd build about a thousand bridges quicker.\r
+Science and art alone won't do,\r
+The work will call for patience, too;\r
+Costs a still spirit years of occupation:\r
+Time, only, strengthens the fine fermentation.\r
+To tell each thing that forms a part\r
+Would sound to thee like wildest fable!\r
+The devil indeed has taught the art;\r
+To make it not the devil is able.\r
+ [_Espying the animals_.]\r
+See, what a genteel breed we here parade!\r
+This is the house-boy! that's the maid!\r
+ [_To the animals_.]\r
+Where's the old lady gone a mousing?\r
+\r
+_The animals_. Carousing;\r
+Out she went\r
+By the chimney-vent!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. How long does she spend in gadding and storming?\r
+\r
+_The animals_. While we are giving our paws a warming.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_ [_to Faust_]. How do you find the dainty creatures?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Disgusting as I ever chanced to see!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. No! a discourse like this to me,\r
+I own, is one of life's most pleasant features;\r
+ [_To the animals_.]\r
+Say, cursed dolls, that sweat, there, toiling!\r
+What are you twirling with the spoon?\r
+\r
+_Animals_. A common beggar-soup we're boiling.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. You'll have a run of custom soon.\r
+\r
+ THE HE-MONKEY\r
+ [_Comes along and fawns on_ MEPHISTOPHELES].\r
+ O fling up the dice,\r
+ Make me rich in a trice,\r
+ Turn fortune's wheel over!\r
+ My lot is right bad,\r
+ If money I had,\r
+ My wits would recover.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. The monkey'd be as merry as a cricket,\r
+Would somebody give him a lottery-ticket!\r
+\r
+ [_Meanwhile the young monkeys have been playing with a great\r
+ ball, which they roll backward and forward_.]\r
+\r
+_The monkey_. 'The world's the ball;\r
+ See't rise and fall,\r
+ Its roll you follow;\r
+ Like glass it rings:\r
+ Both, brittle things!\r
+ Within 'tis hollow.\r
+ There it shines clear,\r
+ And brighter here,--\r
+ I live--by 'Pollo!--\r
+ Dear son, I pray,\r
+ Keep hands away!\r
+ _Thou_ shalt fall so!\r
+ 'Tis made of clay,\r
+ Pots are, also.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. What means the sieve?\r
+\r
+_The monkey [takes it down_]. Wert thou a thief,\r
+ 'Twould show the thief and shame him.\r
+ [_Runs to his mate and makes her look through_.]\r
+ Look through the sieve!\r
+ Discern'st thou the thief,\r
+ And darest not name him?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles [approaching the fire_]. And what's this pot?\r
+\r
+_The monkeys_. The dunce! I'll be shot!\r
+ He knows not the pot,\r
+ He knows not the kettle!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Impertinence! Hush!\r
+\r
+_The monkey_. Here, take you the brush,\r
+ And sit on the settle!\r
+ [_He forces_ MEPHISTOPHELES _to sit down_.]\r
+\r
+ FAUST\r
+ [_who all this time has been standing before a looking-glass,\r
+ now approaching and now receding from it_].\r
+\r
+What do I see? What heavenly face\r
+Doth, in this magic glass, enchant me!\r
+O love, in mercy, now, thy swiftest pinions grant me!\r
+And bear me to her field of space!\r
+Ah, if I seek to approach what doth so haunt me,\r
+If from this spot I dare to stir,\r
+Dimly as through a mist I gaze on her!--\r
+The loveliest vision of a woman!\r
+Such lovely woman can there be?\r
+Must I in these reposing limbs naught human.\r
+But of all heavens the finest essence see?\r
+Was such a thing on earth seen ever?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Why, when you see a God six days in hard work spend,\r
+And then cry bravo at the end,\r
+Of course you look for something clever.\r
+Look now thy fill; I have for thee\r
+Just such a jewel, and will lead thee to her;\r
+And happy, whose good fortune it shall be,\r
+To bear her home, a prospered wooer!\r
+\r
+[FAUST _keeps on looking into the mirror_. MEPHISTOPHELES\r
+_stretching himself out on the settle and playing with the brush,\r
+continues speaking_.]\r
+Here sit I like a king upon his throne,\r
+The sceptre in my hand,--I want the crown alone.\r
+\r
+ THE ANIMALS\r
+ [_who up to this time have been going through all sorts of queer antics\r
+ with each other, bring_ MEPHISTOPHELES _a crown with a loud cry_].\r
+ O do be so good,--\r
+ With sweat and with blood,\r
+ To take it and lime it;\r
+ [_They go about clumsily with the crown and break it into two pieces,\r
+ with which they jump round_.]\r
+ 'Tis done now! We're free!\r
+ We speak and we see,\r
+ We hear and we rhyme it;\r
+\r
+_Faust [facing the mirror_]. Woe's me! I've almost lost my wits.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles [pointing to the animals_].\r
+My head, too, I confess, is very near to spinning.\r
+\r
+_The animals_. And then if it hits\r
+ And every thing fits,\r
+ We've thoughts for our winning.\r
+\r
+_Faust [as before_]. Up to my heart the flame is flying!\r
+Let us begone--there's danger near!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles [in the former position_].\r
+Well, this, at least, there's no denying,\r
+That we have undissembled poets here.\r
+\r
+[The kettle, which the she-monkey has hitherto left unmatched, begins to\r
+run over; a great flame breaks out, which roars up the chimney. The_ WITCH\r
+_comes riding down through the flame with a terrible outcry_.]\r
+\r
+_Witch_. Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!\r
+ The damned beast! The cursed sow!\r
+ Neglected the kettle, scorched the Frau!\r
+ The cursed crew!\r
+ [_Seeing_ FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES.]\r
+ And who are you?\r
+ And what d'ye do?\r
+ And what d'ye want?\r
+ And who sneaked in?\r
+ The fire-plague grim\r
+ Shall light on him\r
+ In every limb!\r
+\r
+ [_She makes a dive at the kettle with the skimmer and spatters flames\r
+ at _FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES_, and the creatures. These last whimper_.]\r
+\r
+ MEPHISTOPHELES\r
+ [_inverting the brush which he holds in his hand, and striking\r
+ among the glasses and pots_].\r
+\r
+ In two! In two!\r
+ There lies the brew!\r
+ There lies the glass!\r
+ This joke must pass;\r
+ For time-beat, ass!\r
+ To thy melody, 'twill do.\r
+ [_While the_ WITCH _starts back full of wrath and horror.]\r
+Skeleton! Scarcecrow! Spectre! Know'st thou me,\r
+Thy lord and master? What prevents my dashing\r
+Right in among thy cursed company,\r
+Thyself and all thy monkey spirits smashing?\r
+Has the red waistcoat thy respect no more?\r
+Has the cock's-feather, too, escaped attention?\r
+Hast never seen this face before?\r
+My name, perchance, wouldst have me mention?\r
+\r
+_The witch_. Pardon the rudeness, sir, in me!\r
+But sure no cloven foot I see.\r
+Nor find I your two ravens either.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I'll let thee off for this once so;\r
+For a long while has passed, full well I know,\r
+Since the last time we met together.\r
+The culture, too, which licks the world to shape,\r
+The devil himself cannot escape;\r
+The phantom of the North men's thoughts have left behind them,\r
+Horns, tail, and claws, where now d'ye find them?\r
+And for the foot, with which dispense I nowise can,\r
+'Twould with good circles hurt my standing;\r
+And so I've worn, some years, like many a fine young man,\r
+False calves to make me more commanding.\r
+\r
+_The witch [dancing_]. O I shall lose my wits, I fear,\r
+Do I, again, see Squire Satan here!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Woman, the name offends my ear!\r
+\r
+_The witch_. Why so? What has it done to you?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. It has long since to fable-books been banished;\r
+But men are none the better for it; true,\r
+The wicked _one_, but not the wicked _ones_, has vanished.\r
+Herr Baron callst thou me, then all is right and good;\r
+I am a cavalier, like others. Doubt me?\r
+Doubt for a moment of my noble blood?\r
+See here the family arms I bear about me!\r
+ [_He makes an indecent gesture.]\r
+\r
+The witch [laughs immoderately_]. Ha! ha! full well I know you, sir!\r
+You are the same old rogue you always were!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles [to Faust_]. I pray you, carefully attend,\r
+This is the way to deal with witches, friend.\r
+\r
+_The witch_. Now, gentles, what shall I produce?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. A right good glassful of the well-known juice!\r
+And pray you, let it be the oldest;\r
+Age makes it doubly strong for use.\r
+\r
+_The witch_. Right gladly! Here I have a bottle,\r
+From which, at times, I wet my throttle;\r
+Which now, not in the slightest, stinks;\r
+A glass to you I don't mind giving;\r
+ [_Softly_.]\r
+But if this man, without preparing, drinks,\r
+He has not, well you know, another hour for living.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_.\r
+'Tis a good friend of mine, whom it shall straight cheer up;\r
+Thy kitchen's best to give him don't delay thee.\r
+Thy ring--thy spell, now, quick, I pray thee,\r
+And give him then a good full cup.\r
+\r
+[_The_ WITCH, _with strange gestures, draws a circle, and places singular\r
+things in it; mean-while the glasses begin to ring, the kettle to sound\r
+and make music. Finally, she brings a great book and places the monkeys in\r
+the circle, whom she uses as a reading-desk and to hold the torches. She\r
+beckons_ FAUST _to come to her_.]\r
+\r
+_Faust [to Mephistopheles_].\r
+Hold! what will come of this? These creatures,\r
+These frantic gestures and distorted features,\r
+And all the crazy, juggling fluff,\r
+I've known and loathed it long enough!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Pugh! that is only done to smoke us;\r
+Don't be so serious, my man!\r
+She must, as Doctor, play her hocus-pocus\r
+To make the dose work better, that's the plan.\r
+ [_He constrains_ FAUST _to step into the circle_.]\r
+\r
+ THE WITCH\r
+ [_beginning with great emphasis to declaim out of the book_]\r
+\r
+ Remember then!\r
+ Of One make Ten,\r
+ The Two let be,\r
+ Make even Three,\r
+ There's wealth for thee.\r
+ The Four pass o'er!\r
+ Of Five and Six,\r
+ (The witch so speaks,)\r
+ Make Seven and Eight,\r
+ The thing is straight:\r
+ And Nine is One\r
+ And Ten is none--\r
+ This is the witch's one-time-one![24]\r
+\r
+_Faust_. The old hag talks like one delirious.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. There's much more still, no less mysterious,\r
+I know it well, the whole book sounds just so!\r
+I've lost full many a year in poring o'er it,\r
+For perfect contradiction, you must know,\r
+A mystery stands, and fools and wise men bow before it,\r
+The art is old and new, my son.\r
+Men, in all times, by craft and terror,\r
+With One and Three, and Three and One,\r
+For truth have propagated error.\r
+They've gone on gabbling so a thousand years;\r
+Who on the fools would waste a minute?\r
+Man generally thinks, if words he only hears,\r
+Articulated noise must have some meaning in it.\r
+\r
+_The witch [goes on_]. Deep wisdom's power\r
+ Has, to this hour,\r
+ From all the world been hidden!\r
+ Whoso thinks not,\r
+ To him 'tis brought,\r
+ To him it comes unbidden.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. What nonsense is she talking here?\r
+My heart is on the point of cracking.\r
+In one great choir I seem to hear\r
+A hundred thousand ninnies clacking.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Enough, enough, rare Sibyl, sing us\r
+These runes no more, thy beverage bring us,\r
+And quickly fill the goblet to the brim;\r
+This drink may by my friend be safely taken:\r
+Full many grades the man can reckon,\r
+Many good swigs have entered him.\r
+\r
+ [_The_ WITCH, _with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a cup;\r
+ as she puts it to_ FAUST'S _lips, there rises a light flame_.]\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Down with it! Gulp it down! 'Twill prove\r
+All that thy heart's wild wants desire.\r
+Thou, with the devil, hand and glove,[25]\r
+And yet wilt be afraid of fire?\r
+\r
+ [_The_ WITCH _breaks the circle_; FAUST _steps out_.]\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Now briskly forth! No rest for thee!\r
+\r
+_The witch_. Much comfort may the drink afford you!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles [to the witch_]. And any favor you may ask of me,\r
+I'll gladly on Walpurgis' night accord you.\r
+\r
+_The witch_. Here is a song, which if you sometimes sing,\r
+'Twill stir up in your heart a special fire.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles [to Faust_]. Only make haste; and even shouldst thou tire,\r
+Still follow me; one must perspire,\r
+That it may set his nerves all quivering.\r
+I'll teach thee by and bye to prize a noble leisure,\r
+And soon, too, shalt thou feel with hearty pleasure,\r
+How busy Cupid stirs, and shakes his nimble wing.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. But first one look in yonder glass, I pray thee!\r
+Such beauty I no more may find!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Nay! in the flesh thine eyes shall soon display thee\r
+The model of all woman-kind.\r
+ [_Softly_.]\r
+Soon will, when once this drink shall heat thee,\r
+In every girl a Helen meet thee!\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ A STREET.\r
+\r
+ FAUST. MARGARET [_passing over_].\r
+\r
+_Faust_. My fair young lady, will it offend her\r
+If I offer my arm and escort to lend her?\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Am neither lady, nor yet am fair!\r
+Can find my way home without any one's care.\r
+ [_Disengages herself and exit_.]\r
+\r
+_Faust_. By heavens, but then the child _is_ fair!\r
+I've never seen the like, I swear.\r
+So modest is she and so pure,\r
+And somewhat saucy, too, to be sure.\r
+The light of the cheek, the lip's red bloom,\r
+I shall never forget to the day of doom!\r
+How me cast down her lovely eyes,\r
+Deep in my soul imprinted lies;\r
+How she spoke up, so curt and tart,\r
+Ah, that went right to my ravished heart!\r
+ [_Enter_ MEPHISTOPHELES.]\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Hark, thou shalt find me a way to address her!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Which one?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. She just went by.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. What! She?\r
+She came just now from her father confessor,\r
+Who from all sins pronounced her free;\r
+I stole behind her noiselessly,\r
+'Tis an innocent thing, who, for nothing at all,\r
+Must go to the confessional;\r
+O'er such as she no power I hold!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. But then she's over fourteen years old.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Thou speak'st exactly like Jack Rake,\r
+Who every fair flower his own would make.\r
+And thinks there can be no favor nor fame,\r
+But one may straightway pluck the same.\r
+But 'twill not always do, we see.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. My worthy Master Gravity,\r
+Let not a word of the Law be spoken!\r
+One thing be clearly understood,--\r
+Unless I clasp the sweet, young blood\r
+This night in my arms--then, well and good:\r
+When midnight strikes, our bond is broken.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Reflect on all that lies in the way!\r
+I need a fortnight, at least, to a day,\r
+For finding so much as a way to reach her.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Had I seven hours, to call my own,\r
+Without the devil's aid, alone\r
+I'd snare with ease so young a creature.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. You talk quite Frenchman-like to-day;\r
+But don't be vexed beyond all measure.\r
+What boots it thus to snatch at pleasure?\r
+'Tis not so great, by a long way,\r
+As if you first, with tender twaddle,\r
+And every sort of fiddle-faddle,\r
+Your little doll should mould and knead,\r
+As one in French romances may read.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. My appetite needs no such spur.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Now, then, without a jest or slur,\r
+I tell you, once for all, such speed\r
+With the fair creature won't succeed.\r
+Nothing will here by storm be taken;\r
+We must perforce on intrigue reckon.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Get me some trinket the angel has blest!\r
+Lead me to her chamber of rest!\r
+Get me a 'kerchief from her neck,\r
+A garter get me for love's sweet sake!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. To prove to you my willingness\r
+To aid and serve you in this distress;\r
+You shall visit her chamber, by me attended,\r
+Before the passing day is ended.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. And see her, too? and have her?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Nay!\r
+She will to a neighbor's have gone away.\r
+Meanwhile alone by yourself you may,\r
+There in her atmosphere, feast at leisure\r
+And revel in dreams of future pleasure.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Shall we start at once?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. 'Tis too early yet.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Some present to take her for me you must get.\r
+\r
+ [_Exit_.]\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Presents already! Brave! He's on the right foundation!\r
+Full many a noble place I know,\r
+And treasure buried long ago;\r
+Must make a bit of exploration.\r
+\r
+ [_Exit_.]\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ EVENING.\r
+\r
+ _A little cleanly Chamber_.\r
+\r
+MARGARET [_braiding and tying up her hair_.]\r
+I'd give a penny just to say\r
+What gentleman that was to-day!\r
+How very gallant he seemed to be,\r
+He's of a noble family;\r
+That I could read from his brow and bearing--\r
+And he would not have otherwise been so daring.\r
+ [_Exit_.]\r
+\r
+ FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Come in, step softly, do not fear!\r
+\r
+_Faust [after a pause_]. Leave me alone, I prithee, here!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles [peering round_]. Not every maiden keeps so neat.\r
+ [_Exit_.]\r
+\r
+_Faust [gazing round_]. Welcome this hallowed still retreat!\r
+Where twilight weaves its magic glow.\r
+Seize on my heart, love-longing, sad and sweet,\r
+That on the dew of hope dost feed thy woe!\r
+How breathes around the sense of stillness,\r
+Of quiet, order, and content!\r
+In all this poverty what fulness!\r
+What blessedness within this prison pent!\r
+ [_He throws himself into a leathern chair by the bed_.]\r
+Take me, too! as thou hast, in years long flown,\r
+In joy and grief, so many a generation!\r
+Ah me! how oft, on this ancestral throne,\r
+Have troops of children climbed with exultation!\r
+Perhaps, when Christmas brought the Holy Guest,\r
+My love has here, in grateful veneration\r
+The grandsire's withered hand with child-lips prest.\r
+I feel, O maiden, circling me,\r
+Thy spirit of grace and fulness hover,\r
+Which daily like a mother teaches thee\r
+The table-cloth to spread in snowy purity,\r
+And even, with crinkled sand the floor to cover.\r
+Dear, godlike hand! a touch of thine\r
+Makes this low house a heavenly kingdom slime!\r
+And here!\r
+ [_He lifts a bed-curtain_.]\r
+What blissful awe my heart thrills through!\r
+Here for long hours could I linger.\r
+Here, Nature! in light dreams, thy airy finger\r
+The inborn angel's features drew!\r
+Here lay the child, when life's fresh heavings\r
+Its tender bosom first made warm,\r
+And here with pure, mysterious weavings\r
+The spirit wrought its godlike form!\r
+ And thou! What brought thee here? what power\r
+Stirs in my deepest soul this hour?\r
+What wouldst thou here? What makes thy heart so sore?\r
+Unhappy Faust! I know thee thus no more.\r
+ Breathe I a magic atmosphere?\r
+The will to enjoy how strong I felt it,--\r
+And in a dream of love am now all melted!\r
+Are we the sport of every puff of air?\r
+ And if she suddenly should enter now,\r
+How would she thy presumptuous folly humble!\r
+Big John-o'dreams! ah, how wouldst thou\r
+Sink at her feet, collapse and crumble!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Quick, now! She comes! I'm looking at her.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Away! Away! O cruel fate!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Here is a box of moderate weight;\r
+I got it somewhere else--no matter!\r
+Just shut it up, here, in the press,\r
+I swear to you, 'twill turn her senses;\r
+I meant the trifles, I confess,\r
+To scale another fair one's fences.\r
+True, child is child and play is play.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Shall I? I know not.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Why delay?\r
+You mean perhaps to keep the bauble?\r
+If so, I counsel you to spare\r
+From idle passion hours so fair,\r
+And me, henceforth, all further trouble.\r
+I hope you are not avaricious!\r
+I rub my hands, I scratch my head--\r
+ [_He places the casket in the press and locks it up again_.]\r
+ (Quick! Time we sped!)--\r
+That the dear creature may be led\r
+And moulded by your will and wishes;\r
+And you stand here as glum,\r
+As one at the door of the auditorium,\r
+As if before your eyes you saw\r
+In bodily shape, with breathless awe,\r
+Metaphysics and physics, grim and gray!\r
+Away!\r
+ [_Exit_.]\r
+\r
+_Margaret [with a lamp_]. It seems so close, so sultry here.\r
+ [_She opens the window_.]\r
+Yet it isn't so very warm out there,\r
+I feel--I know not how--oh dear!\r
+I wish my mother 'ld come home, I declare!\r
+I feel a shudder all over me crawl--\r
+I'm a silly, timid thing, that's all!\r
+ [_She begins to sing, while undressing_.]\r
+ There was a king in Thulè,\r
+ To whom, when near her grave,\r
+ The mistress he loved so truly\r
+ A golden goblet gave.\r
+\r
+ He cherished it as a lover,\r
+ He drained it, every bout;\r
+ His eyes with tears ran over,\r
+ As oft as he drank thereout.\r
+\r
+ And when he found himself dying,\r
+ His towns and cities he told;\r
+ Naught else to his heir denying\r
+ Save only the goblet of gold.\r
+\r
+ His knights he straightway gathers\r
+ And in the midst sate he,\r
+ In the banquet hall of the fathers\r
+ In the castle over the sea.\r
+\r
+ There stood th' old knight of liquor,\r
+ And drank the last life-glow,\r
+ Then flung the holy beaker\r
+ Into the flood below.\r
+\r
+ He saw it plunging, drinking\r
+ And sinking in the roar,\r
+ His eyes in death were sinking,\r
+ He never drank one drop more.\r
+ [_She opens the press, to put away her clothes,\r
+ and discovers the casket_.]\r
+\r
+How in the world came this fine casket here?\r
+I locked the press, I'm very clear.\r
+I wonder what's inside! Dear me! it's very queer!\r
+Perhaps 'twas brought here as a pawn,\r
+In place of something mother lent.\r
+Here is a little key hung on,\r
+A single peep I shan't repent!\r
+What's here? Good gracious! only see!\r
+I never saw the like in my born days!\r
+On some chief festival such finery\r
+Might on some noble lady blaze.\r
+How would this chain become my neck!\r
+Whose may this splendor be, so lonely?\r
+ [_She arrays herself in it, and steps before the glass_.]\r
+Could I but claim the ear-rings only!\r
+A different figure one would make.\r
+What's beauty worth to thee, young blood!\r
+May all be very well and good;\r
+What then? 'Tis half for pity's sake\r
+They praise your pretty features.\r
+Each burns for gold,\r
+All turns on gold,--\r
+Alas for us! poor creatures!\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ PROMENADE.\r
+\r
+\r
+ FAUST [_going up and down in thought_.] MEPHISTOPHELES _to him_.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. By all that ever was jilted! By all the infernal fires!\r
+I wish I knew something worse, to curse as my heart desires!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. What griping pain has hold of thee?\r
+Such grins ne'er saw I in the worst stage-ranter!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Oh, to the devil I'd give myself instanter,\r
+If I were not already he!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Some pin's loose in your head, old fellow!\r
+That fits you, like a madman thus to bellow!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Just think, the pretty toy we got for Peg,\r
+A priest has hooked, the cursed plague I--\r
+The thing came under the eye of the mother,\r
+And caused her a dreadful internal pother:\r
+The woman's scent is fine and strong;\r
+Snuffles over her prayer-book all day long,\r
+And knows, by the smell of an article, plain,\r
+Whether the thing is holy or profane;\r
+And as to the box she was soon aware\r
+There could not be much blessing there.\r
+"My child," she cried, "unrighteous gains\r
+Ensnare the soul, dry up the veins.\r
+We'll consecrate it to God's mother,\r
+She'll give us some heavenly manna or other!"\r
+Little Margaret made a wry face; "I see\r
+'Tis, after all, a gift horse," said she;\r
+"And sure, no godless one is he\r
+Who brought it here so handsomely."\r
+The mother sent for a priest (they're cunning);\r
+Who scarce had found what game was running,\r
+When he rolled his greedy eyes like a lizard,\r
+And, "all is rightly disposed," said he,\r
+"Who conquers wins, for a certainty.\r
+The church has of old a famous gizzard,\r
+She calls it little whole lands to devour,\r
+Yet never a surfeit got to this hour;\r
+The church alone, dear ladies; _sans_ question,\r
+Can give unrighteous gains digestion."\r
+\r
+_Faust_. That is a general pratice, too,\r
+Common alike with king and Jew.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Then pocketed bracelets and chains and rings\r
+As if they were mushrooms or some such things,\r
+With no more thanks, (the greedy-guts!)\r
+Than if it had been a basket of nuts,\r
+Promised them all sorts of heavenly pay--\r
+And greatly edified were they.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. And Margery?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Sits there in distress,\r
+And what to do she cannot guess,\r
+The jewels her daily and nightly thought,\r
+And he still more by whom they were brought.\r
+\r
+_Faust._ My heart is troubled for my pet.\r
+Get her at once another set!\r
+The first were no great things in their way.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles._ O yes, my gentleman finds all child's play!\r
+\r
+_Faust._ And what I wish, that mind and do!\r
+Stick closely to her neighbor, too.\r
+Don't be a devil soft as pap,\r
+And fetch me some new jewels, old chap!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles._ Yes, gracious Sir, I will with pleasure.\r
+ [_Exit_ FAUST.]\r
+Such love-sick fools will puff away\r
+Sun, moon, and stars, and all in the azure,\r
+To please a maiden's whimsies, any day.\r
+ [_Exit._]\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ THE NEIGHBOR'S HOUSE.\r
+\r
+\r
+ MARTHA [_alone]._\r
+My dear good man--whom God forgive!\r
+He has not treated me well, as I live!\r
+Right off into the world he's gone\r
+And left me on the straw alone.\r
+I never did vex him, I say it sincerely,\r
+I always loved him, God knows how dearly.\r
+ [_She weeps_.]\r
+Perhaps he's dead!--O cruel fate!--\r
+If I only had a certificate!\r
+\r
+ _Enter_ MARGARET.\r
+Dame Martha!\r
+\r
+_Martha_. What now, Margery?\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. I scarce can keep my knees from sinking!\r
+Within my press, again, not thinking,\r
+I find a box of ebony,\r
+With things--can't tell how grand they are,--\r
+More splendid than the first by far.\r
+\r
+_Martha_. You must not tell it to your mother,\r
+She'd serve it as she did the other.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Ah, only look! Behold and see!\r
+\r
+_Martha [puts them on her_]. Fortunate thing! I envy thee!\r
+\r
+_Margaret._ Alas, in the street or at church I never\r
+Could be seen on any account whatever.\r
+\r
+_Martha._ Come here as often as you've leisure,\r
+And prink yourself quite privately;\r
+Before the looking-glass walk up and down at pleasure,\r
+Fine times for both us 'twill be;\r
+Then, on occasions, say at some great feast,\r
+Can show them to the world, one at a time, at least.\r
+A chain, and then an ear-pearl comes to view;\r
+Your mother may not see, we'll make some pretext, too.\r
+\r
+_Margaret._ Who could have brought both caskets in succession?\r
+There's something here for just suspicion!\r
+ [_A knock._ ]\r
+Ah, God! If that's my mother--then!\r
+\r
+_Martha_ [_peeping through the blind_].\r
+'Tis a strange gentleman--come in!\r
+\r
+ [_Enter_ MEPHISTOPHELES.]\r
+Must, ladies, on your kindness reckon\r
+To excuse the freedom I have taken;\r
+ [_Steps back with profound respect at seeing_ MARGARET.]\r
+I would for Dame Martha Schwerdtlein inquire!\r
+\r
+_Martha._ I'm she, what, sir, is your desire?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_ [_aside to her_]. I know your face, for now 'twill do;\r
+A distinguished lady is visiting you.\r
+For a call so abrupt be pardon meted,\r
+This afternoon it shall be repeated.\r
+\r
+_Martha [aloud]._ For all the world, think, child! my sakes!\r
+The gentleman you for a lady takes.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Ah, God! I am a poor young blood;\r
+The gentleman is quite too good;\r
+The jewels and trinkets are none of my own.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Ah, 'tis not the jewels and trinkets alone;\r
+Her look is so piercing, so _distinguè_!\r
+How glad I am to be suffered to stay.\r
+\r
+_Martha_. What bring you, sir? I long to hear--\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Would I'd a happier tale for your ear!\r
+I hope you'll forgive me this one for repeating:\r
+Your husband is dead and sends you a greeting.\r
+\r
+_Martha_. Is dead? the faithful heart! Woe! Woe!\r
+My husband dead! I, too, shall go!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Ah, dearest Dame, despair not thou!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_ Then, hear the mournful story now!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Ah, keep me free from love forever,\r
+I should never survive such a loss, no, never!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Joy and woe, woe and joy, must have each other.\r
+\r
+_Martha_. Describe his closing hours to me!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. In Padua lies our departed brother,\r
+In the churchyard of St. Anthony,\r
+In a cool and quiet bed lies sleeping,\r
+In a sacred spot's eternal keeping.\r
+\r
+_Martha_. And this was all you had to bring me?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. All but one weighty, grave request!\r
+"Bid her, when I am dead, three hundred masses sing me!"\r
+With this I have made a clean pocket and breast.\r
+\r
+_Martha_. What! not a medal, pin nor stone?\r
+Such as, for memory's sake, no journeyman will lack,\r
+Saved in the bottom of his sack,\r
+And sooner would hunger, be a pauper--\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Madam, your case is hard, I own!\r
+But blame him not, he squandered ne'er a copper.\r
+He too bewailed his faults with penance sore,\r
+Ay, and his wretched luck bemoaned a great deal more.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Alas! that mortals so unhappy prove!\r
+I surely will for him pray many a requiem duly.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. You're worthy of a spouse this moment; truly\r
+You are a child a man might love.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. It's not yet time for that, ah no!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. If not a husband, say, meanwhile a beau.\r
+It is a choice and heavenly blessing,\r
+Such a dear thing to one's bosom pressing.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. With us the custom is not so.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Custom or not! It happens, though.\r
+\r
+_Martha_. Tell on!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I slood beside his bed, as he lay dying,\r
+Better than dung it was somewhat,--\r
+Half-rotten straw; but then, he died as Christian ought,\r
+And found an unpaid score, on Heaven's account-book lying.\r
+"How must I hate myself," he cried, "inhuman!\r
+So to forsake my business and my woman!\r
+Oh! the remembrance murders me!\r
+Would she might still forgive me this side heaven!"\r
+\r
+_Martha_ [_weeping_]. The dear good man! he has been long forgiven.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. "But God knows, I was less to blame than she."\r
+\r
+_Martha_. A lie! And at death's door! abominable!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. If I to judge of men half-way am able,\r
+He surely fibbed while passing hence.\r
+"Ways to kill time, (he said)--be sure, I did not need them;\r
+First to get children--and then bread to feed them,\r
+And bread, too, in the widest sense,\r
+And even to eat my bit in peace could not be thought on."\r
+\r
+_Martha_. Has he all faithfulness, all love, so far forgotten,\r
+The drudgery by day and night!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Not so, he thought of you with all his might.\r
+He said: "When I from Malta went away,\r
+For wife and children my warm prayers ascended;\r
+And Heaven so far our cause befriended,\r
+Our ship a Turkish cruiser took one day,\r
+Which for the mighty Sultan bore a treasure.\r
+Then valor got its well-earned pay,\r
+And I too, who received but my just measure,\r
+A goodly portion bore away."\r
+\r
+_Martha_. How? Where? And he has left it somewhere buried?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Who knows which way by the four winds 'twas carried?\r
+He chanced to take a pretty damsel's eye,\r
+As, a strange sailor, he through Naples jaunted;\r
+All that she did for him so tenderly,\r
+E'en to his blessed end the poor man haunted.\r
+\r
+_Martha_. The scamp! his children thus to plunder!\r
+And could not all his troubles sore\r
+Arrest his vile career, I wonder?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. But mark! his death wipes off the score.\r
+Were I in your place now, good lady;\r
+One year I'd mourn him piously\r
+And look about, meanwhiles, for a new flame already.\r
+\r
+_Martha_. Ah, God! another such as he\r
+I may not find with ease on this side heaven!\r
+Few such kind fools as this dear spouse of mine.\r
+Only to roving he was too much given,\r
+And foreign women and foreign wine,\r
+And that accursed game of dice.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Mere trifles these; you need not heed 'em,\r
+If he, on his part, not o'er-nice,\r
+Winked at, in you, an occasional freedom.\r
+I swear, on that condition, too,\r
+I would, myself, 'change rings with you!\r
+\r
+_Martha_. The gentleman is pleased to jest now!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles [aside_]. I see it's now high time I stirred!\r
+She'd take the very devil at his word.\r
+ [_To_ MARGERY.]\r
+How is it with your heart, my best, now?\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. What means the gentleman?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles. [aside_]. Thou innocent young heart!\r
+ [_Aloud_.]\r
+Ladies, farewell!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Farewell!\r
+\r
+_Martha_. But quick, before we part!--\r
+I'd like some witness, vouching truly\r
+Where, how and when my love died and was buried duly.\r
+I've always paid to order great attention,\r
+Would of his death read some newspaper mention.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Ay, my dear lady, in the mouths of two\r
+Good witnesses each word is true;\r
+I've a friend, a fine fellow, who, when you desire,\r
+Will render on oath what you require.\r
+I'll bring him here.\r
+\r
+_Martha_. O pray, sir, do!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. And this young lady 'll be there too?\r
+Fine boy! has travelled everywhere,\r
+And all politeness to the fair.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Before him shame my face must cover.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Before no king the wide world over!\r
+\r
+_Martha_. Behind the house, in my garden, at leisure,\r
+We'll wait this eve the gentlemen's pleasure.\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ STREET.\r
+\r
+ FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. How now? What progress? Will 't come right?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Ha, bravo? So you're all on fire?\r
+Full soon you'll see whom you desire.\r
+In neighbor Martha's grounds we are to meet tonight.\r
+That woman's one of nature's picking\r
+For pandering and gipsy-tricking!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. So far, so good!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. But one thing we must do.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Well, one good turn deserves another, true.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. We simply make a solemn deposition\r
+That her lord's bones are laid in good condition\r
+In holy ground at Padua, hid from view.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. That's wise! But then we first must make the journey thither?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles. Sancta simplicitas_! no need of such to-do;\r
+Just swear, and ask not why or whether.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. If that's the best you have, the plan's not worth a feather.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. O holy man! now that's just you!\r
+In all thy life hast never, to this hour,\r
+To give false witness taken pains?\r
+Have you of God, the world, and all that it contains,\r
+Of man, and all that stirs within his heart and brains,\r
+Not given definitions with great power,\r
+Unscrupulous breast, unblushing brow?\r
+And if you search the matter clearly,\r
+Knew you as much thereof, to speak sincerely,\r
+As of Herr Schwerdtlein's death? Confess it now!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Thou always wast a sophist and a liar.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Ay, if one did not look a little nigher.\r
+For will you not, in honor, to-morrow\r
+Befool poor Margery to her sorrow,\r
+And all the oaths of true love borrow?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. And from the heart, too.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Well and fair!\r
+Then there'll be talk of truth unending,\r
+Of love o'ermastering, all transcending--\r
+Will every word be heart-born there?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Enough! It will!--If, for the passion\r
+That fills and thrills my being's frame,\r
+I find no name, no fit expression,\r
+Then, through the world, with all my senses, ranging,\r
+Seek what most strongly speaks the unchanging.\r
+And call this glow, within me burning,\r
+Infinite--endless--endless yearning,\r
+Is that a devilish lying game?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I'm right, nathless!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Now, hark to me--\r
+This once, I pray, and spare my lungs, old fellow--\r
+Whoever _will_ be right, and has a tongue to bellow,\r
+Is sure to be.\r
+But come, enough of swaggering, let's be quit,\r
+For thou art right, because I must submit.\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ GARDEN.\r
+\r
+ MARGARET _on_ FAUST'S _arm_. MARTHA _with_ MEPHISTOPHELES.\r
+ [_Promenading up and down_.]\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. The gentleman but makes me more confused\r
+\r
+With all his condescending goodness.\r
+Men who have travelled wide are used\r
+To bear with much from dread of rudeness;\r
+I know too well, a man of so much mind\r
+In my poor talk can little pleasure find.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. One look from thee, one word, delights me more\r
+Than this world's wisdom o'er and o'er.\r
+ [_Kisses her hand_.]\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Don't take that trouble, sir! How could you bear to kiss it?\r
+A hand so ugly, coarse, and rough!\r
+How much I've had to do! must I confess it--\r
+Mother is more than close enough.\r
+ [_They pass on_.]\r
+\r
+_Martha_. And you, sir, are you always travelling so?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Alas, that business forces us to do it!\r
+With what regret from many a place we go,\r
+Though tenderest bonds may bind us to it!\r
+\r
+_Martha_. 'Twill do in youth's tumultuous maze\r
+To wander round the world, a careless rover;\r
+But soon will come the evil days,\r
+And then, a lone dry stick, on the grave's brink to hover,\r
+For that nobody ever prays.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. The distant prospect shakes my reason.\r
+\r
+_Martha_. Then, worthy sir, bethink yourself in season.\r
+ [_They pass on_.]\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Yes, out of sight and out of mind!\r
+Politeness you find no hard matter;\r
+But you have friends in plenty, better\r
+Than I, more sensible, more refined.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Dear girl, what one calls sensible on earth,\r
+Is often vanity and nonsense.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. How?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Ah, that the pure and simple never know\r
+Aught of themselves and all their holy worth!\r
+That meekness, lowliness, the highest measure\r
+Of gifts by nature lavished, full and free--\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. One little moment, only, think of me,\r
+I shall to think of you have ample time and leisure.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. You're, may be, much alone?\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Our household is but small, I own,\r
+And yet needs care, if truth were known.\r
+We have no maid; so I attend to cooking, sweeping,\r
+Knit, sew, do every thing, in fact;\r
+And mother, in all branches of housekeeping,\r
+Is so exact!\r
+Not that she need be tied so very closely down;\r
+We might stand higher than some others, rather;\r
+A nice estate was left us by my father,\r
+A house and garden not far out of town.\r
+Yet, after all, my life runs pretty quiet;\r
+My brother is a soldier,\r
+My little sister's dead;\r
+With the dear child indeed a wearing life I led;\r
+And yet with all its plagues again would gladly try it,\r
+The child was such a pet.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. An angel, if like thee!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. I reared her and she heartily loved me.\r
+She and my father never saw each other,\r
+He died before her birth, and mother\r
+Was given up, so low she lay,\r
+But me, by slow degrees, recovered, day by day.\r
+Of course she now, long time so feeble,\r
+To nurse the poor little worm was unable,\r
+And so I reared it all alone,\r
+With milk and water; 'twas my own.\r
+Upon my bosom all day long\r
+It smiled and sprawled and so grew strong.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Ah! thou hast truly known joy's fairest flower.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. But no less truly many a heavy hour.\r
+The wee thing's cradle stood at night\r
+Close to my bed; did the least thing awake her,\r
+My sleep took flight;\r
+'Twas now to nurse her, now in bed to take her,\r
+Then, if she was not still, to rise,\r
+Walk up and down the room, and dance away her cries,\r
+And at the wash-tub stand, when morning streaked the skies;\r
+Then came the marketing and kitchen-tending,\r
+Day in, day out, work never-ending.\r
+One cannot always, sir, good temper keep;\r
+But then it sweetens food and sweetens sleep.\r
+ [_They pass on_.]\r
+\r
+_Martha_. But the poor women suffer, you must own:\r
+A bachelor is hard of reformation.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Madam, it rests with such as you, alone,\r
+To help me mend my situation.\r
+\r
+_Martha_. Speak plainly, sir, has none your fancy taken?\r
+Has none made out a tender flame to waken?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. The proverb says: A man's own hearth,\r
+And a brave wife, all gold and pearls are worth.\r
+\r
+_Martha_. I mean, has ne'er your heart been smitten slightly?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I have, on every hand, been entertained politely.\r
+\r
+_Martha_. Have you not felt, I mean, a serious intention?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_.\r
+Jesting with women, that's a thing one ne'er should mention.\r
+\r
+_Martha_. Ah, you misunderstand!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. It grieves me that I should!\r
+But this I understand--that you are good.\r
+ [_They pass on_.]\r
+\r
+_Faust_. So then, my little angel recognized me,\r
+As I came through the garden gate?\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Did not my downcast eyes show you surprised me?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. And thou forgav'st that liberty, of late?\r
+That impudence of mine, so daring,\r
+As thou wast home from church repairing?\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. I was confused, the like was new to me;\r
+No one could say a word to my dishonor.\r
+Ah, thought I, has he, haply, in thy manner\r
+Seen any boldness--impropriety?\r
+It seemed as if the feeling seized him,\r
+That he might treat this girl just as it pleased him.\r
+Let me confess! I knew not from what cause,\r
+Some flight relentings here began to threaten danger;\r
+I know, right angry with myself I was,\r
+That I could not be angrier with the stranger.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Sweet darling!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Let me once!\r
+\r
+ [_She plucks a china-aster and picks off the leaves one after another_.]\r
+\r
+_Faust_. What's that for? A bouquet?\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. No, just for sport.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. How?\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Go! you'll laugh at me; away!\r
+ [_She picks and murmurs to herself_.]\r
+\r
+_Faust_. What murmurest thou?\r
+\r
+_Margaret [half aloud_]. He loves me--loves me not.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Sweet face! from heaven that look was caught!\r
+\r
+_Margaret [goes on_]. Loves me--not--loves me--not--\r
+ [_picking off the last leaf with tender joy_]\r
+He loves me!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Yes, my child! And be this floral word\r
+An oracle to thee. He loves thee!\r
+Knowest thou all it mean? He loves thee!\r
+ [_Clasping both her hands_.]\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. What thrill is this!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. O, shudder not! This look of mine.\r
+This pressure of the hand shall tell thee\r
+What cannot be expressed:\r
+Give thyself up at once and feel a rapture,\r
+An ecstasy never to end!\r
+Never!--It's end were nothing but blank despair.\r
+No, unending! unending!\r
+\r
+ [MARGARET _presses his hands, extricates herself, and runs away.\r
+ He stands a moment in thought, then follows her_].\r
+\r
+_Martha [coming_]. The night falls fast.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Ay, and we must away.\r
+\r
+_Martha_. If it were not for one vexation,\r
+I would insist upon your longer stay.\r
+Nobody seems to have no occupation,\r
+No care nor labor,\r
+Except to play the spy upon his neighbor;\r
+And one becomes town-talk, do whatsoe'er they may.\r
+But where's our pair of doves?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Flown up the alley yonder.\r
+Light summer-birds!\r
+\r
+_Martha_. He seems attached to her.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. No wonder.\r
+And she to him. So goes the world, they say.\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ A SUMMER-HOUSE.\r
+\r
+ MARGARET [_darts in, hides behind the door, presses the tip of\r
+ her finger to her lips, and peeps through the crack_].\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. He comes!\r
+\r
+ _Enter_ FAUST.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Ah rogue, how sly thou art!\r
+I've caught thee!\r
+ [_Kisses her_.]\r
+\r
+_Margaret [embracing him and returning the kiss_].\r
+Dear good man! I love thee from my heart!\r
+\r
+ [MEPHISTOPHELES _knocks_.]\r
+\r
+_Faust [stamping_]. Who's there?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. A friend!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. A beast!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Time flies, I don't offend you?\r
+\r
+_Martha [entering_]. Yes, sir, 'tis growing late.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. May I not now attend you?\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Mother would--Fare thee well!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. And must I leave thee then? Farewell!\r
+\r
+_Martha_. Adé!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Till, soon, we meet again!\r
+\r
+ [_Exeunt_ FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES.]\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Good heavens! what such a man's one brain\r
+Can in itself alone contain!\r
+I blush my rudeness to confess,\r
+And answer all he says with yes.\r
+Am a poor, ignorant child, don't see\r
+What he can possibly find in me.\r
+\r
+ [_Exit_.]\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ WOODS AND CAVERN.\r
+\r
+_Faust_ [_alone_]. Spirit sublime, thou gav'st me, gav'st me all\r
+For which I prayed. Thou didst not lift in vain\r
+Thy face upon me in a flame of fire.\r
+Gav'st me majestic nature for a realm,\r
+The power to feel, enjoy her. Not alone\r
+A freezing, formal visit didst thou grant;\r
+Deep down into her breast invitedst me\r
+To look, as if she were a bosom-friend.\r
+The series of animated things\r
+Thou bidst pass by me, teaching me to know\r
+My brothers in the waters, woods, and air.\r
+And when the storm-swept forest creaks and groans,\r
+The giant pine-tree crashes, rending off\r
+The neighboring boughs and limbs, and with deep roar\r
+The thundering mountain echoes to its fall,\r
+To a safe cavern then thou leadest me,\r
+Showst me myself; and my own bosom's deep\r
+Mysterious wonders open on my view.\r
+And when before my sight the moon comes up\r
+With soft effulgence; from the walls of rock,\r
+From the damp thicket, slowly float around\r
+The silvery shadows of a world gone by,\r
+And temper meditation's sterner joy.\r
+ O! nothing perfect is vouchsafed to man:\r
+I feel it now! Attendant on this bliss,\r
+Which brings me ever nearer to the Gods,\r
+Thou gav'st me the companion, whom I now\r
+No more can spare, though cold and insolent;\r
+He makes me hate, despise myself, and turns\r
+Thy gifts to nothing with a word--a breath.\r
+He kindles up a wild-fire in my breast,\r
+Of restless longing for that lovely form.\r
+Thus from desire I hurry to enjoyment,\r
+And in enjoyment languish for desire.\r
+\r
+ _Enter_ MEPHISTOPHELES.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Will not this life have tired you by and bye?\r
+I wonder it so long delights you?\r
+'Tis well enough for once the thing to try;\r
+Then off to where a new invites you!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Would thou hadst something else to do,\r
+That thus to spoil my joy thou burnest.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Well! well! I'll leave thee, gladly too!--\r
+Thou dar'st not tell me that in earnest!\r
+'Twere no great loss, a fellow such as you,\r
+So crazy, snappish, and uncivil.\r
+One has, all day, his hands full, and more too;\r
+To worm out from him what he'd have one do,\r
+Or not do, puzzles e'en the very devil.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Now, that I like! That's just the tone!\r
+Wants thanks for boring me till I'm half dead!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Poor son of earth, if left alone,\r
+What sort of life wouldst thou have led?\r
+How oft, by methods all my own,\r
+I've chased the cobweb fancies from thy head!\r
+And but for me, to parts unknown\r
+Thou from this earth hadst long since fled.\r
+What dost thou here through cave and crevice groping?\r
+Why like a hornèd owl sit moping?\r
+And why from dripping stone, damp moss, and rotten wood\r
+Here, like a toad, suck in thy food?\r
+Delicious pastime! Ah, I see,\r
+Somewhat of Doctor sticks to thee.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. What new life-power it gives me, canst thou guess--\r
+This conversation with the wilderness?\r
+Ay, couldst thou dream how sweet the employment,\r
+Thou wouldst be devil enough to grudge me my enjoyment.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Ay, joy from super-earthly fountains!\r
+By night and day to lie upon the mountains,\r
+To clasp in ecstasy both earth and heaven,\r
+Swelled to a deity by fancy's leaven,\r
+Pierce, like a nervous thrill, earth's very marrow,\r
+Feel the whole six days' work for thee too narrow,\r
+To enjoy, I know not what, in blest elation,\r
+Then with thy lavish love o'erflow the whole creation.\r
+Below thy sight the mortal cast,\r
+And to the glorious vision give at last--\r
+ [_with a gesture_]\r
+I must not say what termination!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Shame on thee!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. This displeases thee; well, surely,\r
+Thou hast a right to say "for shame" demurely.\r
+One must not mention that to chaste ears--never,\r
+Which chaste hearts cannot do without, however.\r
+And, in one word, I grudge you not the pleasure\r
+Of lying to yourself in moderate measure;\r
+But 'twill not hold out long, I know;\r
+Already thou art fast recoiling,\r
+And soon, at this rate, wilt be boiling\r
+With madness or despair and woe.\r
+Enough of this! Thy sweetheart sits there lonely,\r
+And all to her is close and drear.\r
+Her thoughts are on thy image only,\r
+She holds thee, past all utterance, dear.\r
+At first thy passion came bounding and rushing\r
+Like a brooklet o'erflowing with melted snow and rain;\r
+Into her heart thou hast poured it gushing:\r
+And now thy brooklet's dry again.\r
+Methinks, thy woodland throne resigning,\r
+'Twould better suit so great a lord\r
+The poor young monkey to reward\r
+For all the love with which she's pining.\r
+She finds the time dismally long;\r
+Stands at the window, sees the clouds on high\r
+Over the old town-wall go by.\r
+"Were I a little bird!"[26] so runneth her song\r
+All the day, half the night long.\r
+At times she'll be laughing, seldom smile,\r
+At times wept-out she'll seem,\r
+Then again tranquil, you'd deem,--\r
+Lovesick all the while.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Viper! Viper!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_ [_aside_]. Ay! and the prey grows riper!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Reprobate! take thee far behind me!\r
+No more that lovely woman name!\r
+Bid not desire for her sweet person flame\r
+Through each half-maddened sense, again to blind me!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. What then's to do? She fancies thou hast flown,\r
+And more than half she's right, I own.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. I'm near her, and, though far away, my word,\r
+I'd not forget her, lose her; never fear it!\r
+I envy e'en the body of the Lord,\r
+Oft as those precious lips of hers draw near it.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. No doubt; and oft my envious thought reposes\r
+On the twin-pair that feed among the roses.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Out, pimp!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Well done! Your jeers I find fair game for laughter.\r
+The God, who made both lad and lass,\r
+Unwilling for a bungling hand to pass,\r
+Made opportunity right after.\r
+But come! fine cause for lamentation!\r
+Her chamber is your destination,\r
+And not the grave, I guess.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. What are the joys of heaven while her fond arms enfold me?\r
+O let her kindling bosom hold me!\r
+Feel I not always her distress?\r
+The houseless am I not? the unbefriended?\r
+The monster without aim or rest?\r
+That, like a cataract, from rock to rock descended\r
+To the abyss, with maddening greed possest:\r
+She, on its brink, with childlike thoughts and lowly,--\r
+Perched on the little Alpine field her cot,--\r
+This narrow world, so still and holy\r
+Ensphering, like a heaven, her lot.\r
+And I, God's hatred daring,\r
+Could not be content\r
+The rocks all headlong bearing,\r
+By me to ruins rent,--\r
+Her, yea her peace, must I o'erwhelm and bury!\r
+This victim, hell, to thee was necessary!\r
+Help me, thou fiend, the pang soon ending!\r
+What must be, let it quickly be!\r
+And let her fate upon my head descending,\r
+Crush, at one blow, both her and me.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Ha! how it seethes again and glows!\r
+Go in and comfort her, thou dunce!\r
+Where such a dolt no outlet sees or knows,\r
+He thinks he's reached the end at once.\r
+None but the brave deserve the fair!\r
+Thou _hast_ had devil enough to make a decent show of.\r
+For all the world a devil in despair\r
+Is just the insipidest thing I know of.\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ MARGERY'S ROOM.\r
+\r
+ MARGERY [_at the spinning-wheel alone_].\r
+ My heart is heavy,\r
+ My peace is o'er;\r
+ I never--ah! never--\r
+ Shall find it more.\r
+ While him I crave,\r
+ Each place is the grave,\r
+ The world is all\r
+ Turned into gall.\r
+ My wretched brain\r
+ Has lost its wits,\r
+ My wretched sense\r
+ Is all in bits.\r
+ My heart is heavy,\r
+ My peace is o'er;\r
+ I never--ah! never--\r
+ Shall find it more.\r
+ Him only to greet, I\r
+ The street look down,\r
+ Him only to meet, I\r
+ Roam through town.\r
+ His lofty step,\r
+ His noble height,\r
+ His smile of sweetness,\r
+ His eye of might,\r
+ His words of magic,\r
+ Breathing bliss,\r
+ His hand's warm pressure\r
+ And ah! his kiss.\r
+ My heart is heavy,\r
+ My peace is o'er,\r
+ I never--ah! never--\r
+ Shall find it more.\r
+ My bosom yearns\r
+ To behold him again.\r
+ Ah, could I find him\r
+ That best of men!\r
+ I'd tell him then\r
+ How I did miss him,\r
+ And kiss him\r
+ As much as I could,\r
+ Die on his kisses\r
+ I surely should!\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ MARTHA'S GARDEN.\r
+\r
+ MARGARET. FAUST.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Promise me, Henry.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. What I can.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. How is it now with thy religion, say?\r
+I know thou art a dear good man,\r
+But fear thy thoughts do not run much that way.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Leave that, my child! Enough, thou hast my heart;\r
+For those I love with life I'd freely part;\r
+I would not harm a soul, nor of its faith bereave it.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. That's wrong, there's one true faith--one must believe it?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Must one?\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Ah, could I influence thee, dearest!\r
+The holy sacraments thou scarce reverest.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. I honor them.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. But yet without desire.\r
+Of mass and confession both thou'st long begun to tire.\r
+Believest thou in God?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. My. darling, who engages\r
+To say, I do believe in God?\r
+The question put to priests or sages:\r
+Their answer seems as if it sought\r
+To mock the asker.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Then believ'st thou not?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Sweet face, do not misunderstand my thought!\r
+Who dares express him?\r
+And who confess him,\r
+Saying, I do believe?\r
+A man's heart bearing,\r
+What man has the daring\r
+To say: I acknowledge him not?\r
+The All-enfolder,\r
+The All-upholder,\r
+Enfolds, upholds He not\r
+Thee, me, Himself?\r
+Upsprings not Heaven's blue arch high o'er thee?\r
+Underneath thee does not earth stand fast?\r
+See'st thou not, nightly climbing,\r
+Tenderly glancing eternal stars?\r
+Am I not gazing eye to eye on thee?\r
+Through brain and bosom\r
+Throngs not all life to thee,\r
+Weaving in everlasting mystery\r
+Obscurely, clearly, on all sides of thee?\r
+Fill with it, to its utmost stretch, thy breast,\r
+And in the consciousness when thou art wholly blest,\r
+Then call it what thou wilt,\r
+Joy! Heart! Love! God!\r
+I have no name to give it!\r
+All comes at last to feeling;\r
+Name is but sound and smoke,\r
+Beclouding Heaven's warm glow.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. That is all fine and good, I know;\r
+And just as the priest has often spoke,\r
+Only with somewhat different phrases.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. All hearts, too, in all places,\r
+Wherever Heaven pours down the day's broad blessing,\r
+Each in its way the truth is confessing;\r
+And why not I in mine, too?\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Well, all have a way that they incline to,\r
+But still there is something wrong with thee;\r
+Thou hast no Christianity.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Dear child!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. It long has troubled me\r
+That thou shouldst keep such company.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. How so?\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. The man whom thou for crony hast,\r
+Is one whom I with all my soul detest.\r
+Nothing in all my life has ever\r
+Stirred up in my heart such a deep disfavor\r
+As the ugly face that man has got.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Sweet plaything; fear him not!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. His presence stirs my blood, I own.\r
+I can love almost all men I've ever known;\r
+But much as thy presence with pleasure thrills me,\r
+That man with a secret horror fills me.\r
+And then for a knave I've suspected him long!\r
+God pardon me, if I do him wrong!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. To make up a world such odd sticks are needed.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Shouldn't like to live in the house where he did!\r
+Whenever I see him coming in,\r
+He always wears such a mocking grin.\r
+Half cold, half grim;\r
+One sees, that naught has interest for him;\r
+'Tis writ on his brow and can't be mistaken,\r
+No soul in him can love awaken.\r
+I feel in thy arms so happy, so free,\r
+I yield myself up so blissfully,\r
+He comes, and all in me is closed and frozen now.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Ah, thou mistrustful angel, thou!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. This weighs on me so sore,\r
+That when we meet, and he is by me,\r
+I feel, as if I loved thee now no more.\r
+Nor could I ever pray, if he were nigh me,\r
+That eats the very heart in me;\r
+Henry, it must be so with thee.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. 'Tis an antipathy of thine!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Farewell!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Ah, can I ne'er recline\r
+One little hour upon thy bosom, pressing\r
+My heart to thine and all my soul confessing?\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Ah, if my chamber were alone,\r
+This night the bolt should give thee free admission;\r
+But mother wakes at every tone,\r
+And if she had the least suspicion,\r
+Heavens! I should die upon the spot!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Thou angel, need of that there's not.\r
+Here is a flask! Three drops alone\r
+Mix with her drink, and nature\r
+Into a deep and pleasant sleep is thrown.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Refuse thee, what can I, poor creature?\r
+I hope, of course, it will not harm her!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Would I advise it then, my charmer?\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Best man, when thou dost look at me,\r
+I know not what, moves me to do thy will;\r
+I have already done so much for thee,\r
+Scarce any thing seems left me to fulfil.\r
+ [_Exit_.]\r
+\r
+ Enter_ MEPHISTOPHELES.\r
+\r
+_Mephtftopheles_. The monkey! is she gone?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Hast played the spy again?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I overheard it all quite fully.\r
+The Doctor has been well catechized then?\r
+Hope it will sit well on him truly.\r
+The maidens won't rest till they know if the men\r
+Believe as good old custom bids them do.\r
+They think: if there he yields, he'll follow our will too.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Monster, thou wilt not, canst not see,\r
+How this true soul that loves so dearly,\r
+Yet hugs, at every cost,\r
+The faith which she\r
+Counts Heaven itself, is horror-struck sincerely\r
+To think of giving up her dearest man for lost.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Thou supersensual, sensual wooer,\r
+A girl by the nose is leading thee.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Abortion vile of fire and sewer!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. In physiognomy, too, her skill is masterly.\r
+When I am near she feels she knows not how,\r
+My little mask some secret meaning shows;\r
+She thinks, I'm certainly a genius, now,\r
+Perhaps the very devil--who knows?\r
+To-night then?--\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Well, what's that to you?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I find my pleasure in it, too!\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ AT THE WELL.\r
+\r
+ MARGERY _and_ LIZZY _with Pitchers._\r
+\r
+_Lizzy_. Hast heard no news of Barbara to-day?\r
+\r
+_Margery_. No, not a word. I've not been out much lately.\r
+\r
+_Lizzy_. It came to me through Sybill very straightly.\r
+She's made a fool of herself at last, they say.\r
+That comes of taking airs!\r
+\r
+_Margery_. What meanst thou?\r
+\r
+_Lizzy_. Pah!\r
+She daily eats and drinks for two now.\r
+\r
+_Margery_. Ah!\r
+\r
+_Lizzy_. It serves the jade right for being so callow.\r
+How long she's been hanging upon the fellow!\r
+Such a promenading!\r
+To fair and dance parading!\r
+Everywhere as first she must shine,\r
+He was treating her always with tarts and wine;\r
+She began to think herself something fine,\r
+And let her vanity so degrade her\r
+That she even accepted the presents he made her.\r
+There was hugging and smacking, and so it went on--\r
+And lo! and behold! the flower is gone!\r
+\r
+_Margery_. Poor thing!\r
+\r
+_Lizzy_. Canst any pity for her feel!\r
+When such as we spun at the wheel,\r
+Our mothers kept us in-doors after dark;\r
+While she stood cozy with her spark,\r
+Or sate on the door-bench, or sauntered round,\r
+And never an hour too long they found.\r
+But now her pride may let itself down,\r
+To do penance at church in the sinner's gown!\r
+\r
+_Margery_. He'll certainly take her for his wife.\r
+\r
+_Lizzy_. He'd be a fool! A spruce young blade\r
+Has room enough to ply his trade.\r
+Besides, he's gone.\r
+\r
+_Margery_. Now, that's not fair!\r
+\r
+_Lizzy_. If she gets him, her lot'll be hard to bear.\r
+The boys will tear up her wreath, and what's more,\r
+We'll strew chopped straw before her door.\r
+\r
+ [_Exit._]\r
+\r
+_Margery [going home]_. Time was when I, too, instead of bewailing,\r
+Could boldly jeer at a poor girl's failing!\r
+When my scorn could scarcely find expression\r
+At hearing of another's transgression!\r
+How black it seemed! though black as could be,\r
+It never was black enough for me.\r
+I blessed my soul, and felt so high,\r
+And now, myself, in sin I lie!\r
+Yet--all that led me to it, sure,\r
+O God! it was so dear, so pure!\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ DONJON.[27]\r
+\r
+ [_In a niche a devotional image of the Mater Dolorosa,\r
+ before it pots of flowers._]\r
+\r
+MARGERY [_puts fresh flowers into the pots_].\r
+ Ah, hear me,\r
+ Draw kindly near me,\r
+ Mother of sorrows, heal my woe!\r
+\r
+ Sword-pierced, and stricken\r
+ With pangs that sicken,\r
+ Thou seest thy son's last life-blood flow!\r
+\r
+ Thy look--thy sighing---\r
+ To God are crying,\r
+ Charged with a son's and mother's woe!\r
+\r
+ Sad mother!\r
+ What other\r
+ Knows the pangs that eat me to the bone?\r
+ What within my poor heart burneth,\r
+ How it trembleth, how it yearneth,\r
+ Thou canst feel and thou alone!\r
+\r
+ Go where I will, I never\r
+ Find peace or hope--forever\r
+ Woe, woe and misery!\r
+\r
+ Alone, when all are sleeping,\r
+ I'm weeping, weeping, weeping,\r
+ My heart is crushed in me.\r
+\r
+ The pots before my window,\r
+ In the early morning-hours,\r
+ Alas, my tears bedewed them,\r
+ As I plucked for thee these flowers,\r
+\r
+ When the bright sun good morrow\r
+ In at my window said,\r
+ Already, in my anguish,\r
+ I sate there in my bed.\r
+\r
+ From shame and death redeem me, oh!\r
+ Draw near me,\r
+ And, pitying, hear me,\r
+ Mother of sorrows, heal my woe!\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ NIGHT.\r
+\r
+ _Street before_ MARGERY'S _Door._\r
+\r
+\r
+ VALENTINE [_soldier,_ MARGERY'S _brother_].\r
+\r
+When at the mess I used to sit,\r
+Where many a one will show his wit,\r
+And heard my comrades one and all\r
+The flower of the sex extol,\r
+Drowning their praise with bumpers high,\r
+Leaning upon my elbows, I\r
+Would hear the braggadocios through,\r
+And then, when it came my turn, too,\r
+Would stroke my beard and, smiling, say,\r
+A brimming bumper in my hand:\r
+All very decent in their way!\r
+But is there one, in all the land,\r
+With my sweet Margy to compare,\r
+A candle to hold to my sister fair?\r
+Bravo! Kling! Klang! it echoed round!\r
+One party cried: 'tis truth he speaks,\r
+She is the jewel of the sex!\r
+And the braggarts all in silence were bound.\r
+And now!--one could pull out his hair with vexation,\r
+And run up the walls for mortification!--\r
+Every two-legged creature that goes in breeches\r
+Can mock me with sneers and stinging speeches!\r
+And I like a guilty debtor sitting,\r
+For fear of each casual word am sweating!\r
+And though I could smash them in my ire,\r
+I dare not call a soul of them liar.\r
+\r
+What's that comes yonder, sneaking along?\r
+There are two of them there, if I see not wrong.\r
+Is't he, I'll give him a dose that'll cure him,\r
+He'll not leave the spot alive, I assure him!\r
+\r
+\r
+ FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. How from yon window of the sacristy\r
+The ever-burning lamp sends up its glimmer,\r
+And round the edge grows ever dimmer,\r
+Till in the gloom its flickerings die!\r
+So in my bosom all is nightlike.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. A starving tom-cat I feel quite like,\r
+That o'er the fire ladders crawls\r
+Then softly creeps, ground the walls.\r
+My aim's quite virtuous ne'ertheless,\r
+A bit of thievish lust, a bit of wantonness.\r
+I feel it all my members haunting--\r
+The glorious Walpurgis night.\r
+One day--then comes the feast enchanting\r
+That shall all pinings well requite.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Meanwhile can that the casket be, I wonder,\r
+I see behind rise glittering yonder.[28]\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Yes, and thou soon shalt have the pleasure\r
+Of lifting out the precious treasure.\r
+I lately 'neath the lid did squint,\r
+Has piles of lion-dollars[29] in't.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. But not a jewel? Not a ring?\r
+To deck my mistress not a trinket?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I caught a glimpse of some such thing,\r
+Sort of pearl bracelet I should think it.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. That's well! I always like to bear\r
+Some present when I visit my fair.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. You should not murmur if your fate is,\r
+To have a bit of pleasure gratis.\r
+Now, as the stars fill heaven with their bright throng,\r
+List a fine piece, artistic purely:\r
+I sing her here a moral song,\r
+To make a fool of her more surely.\r
+ [_Sings to the guitar_.][30]\r
+ What dost thou here,\r
+ Katrina dear,\r
+ At daybreak drear,\r
+ Before thy lover's chamber?\r
+ Give o'er, give o'er!\r
+ The maid his door\r
+ Lets in, no more\r
+ Goes out a maid--remember!\r
+\r
+ Take heed! take heed!\r
+ Once done, the deed\r
+ Ye'll rue with speed--\r
+ And then--good night--poor thing--a!\r
+ Though ne'er so fair\r
+ His speech, beware,\r
+ Until you bear\r
+ His ring upon your finger.\r
+\r
+_Valentine_ [_comes forward_].\r
+Whom lur'ft thou here? what prey dost scent?\r
+Rat-catching[81] offspring of perdition!\r
+To hell goes first the instrument!\r
+To hell then follows the musician!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. He 's broken the guitar! to music, then, good-bye, now.\r
+\r
+_Valentine_. A game of cracking skulls we'll try now!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopbeles_ [_to Faust_]. Never you flinch, Sir Doctor! Brisk!\r
+Mind every word I say---be wary!\r
+Stand close by me, out with your whisk!\r
+Thrust home upon the churl! I'll parry.\r
+\r
+_Valentine_. Then parry that!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Be sure. Why not?\r
+\r
+_Valentine_. And that!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. With ease!\r
+\r
+_Valentine_. The devil's aid he's got!\r
+But what is this? My hand's already lame.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_ [_to Faust_]. Thrust home!\r
+\r
+_Valentine_ [_falls_]. O woe!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Now is the lubber tame!\r
+But come! We must be off. I hear a clatter;\r
+And cries of murder, too, that fast increase.\r
+I'm an old hand to manage the police,\r
+But then the penal court's another matter.\r
+\r
+_Martha_. Come out! Come out!\r
+\r
+_Margery_ [_at the window_]. Bring on a light!\r
+\r
+_Martha_ [_as above_]. They swear and scuffle, scream and fight.\r
+\r
+_People_. There's one, has got's death-blow!\r
+\r
+_Martha_ [_coming out_]. Where are the murderers, have they flown?\r
+\r
+_Margery_ [_coming out_]. Who's lying here?\r
+\r
+_People_. Thy mother's son.\r
+\r
+_Margery_. Almighty God! What woe!\r
+\r
+_Valentine_. I'm dying! that is quickly said,\r
+And even quicklier done.\r
+Women! Why howl, as if half-dead?\r
+Come, hear me, every one!\r
+ [_All gather round him_.]\r
+My Margery, look! Young art thou still,\r
+But managest thy matters ill,\r
+Hast not learned out yet quite.\r
+I say in confidence--think it o'er:\r
+Thou art just once for all a whore;\r
+Why, be one, then, outright.\r
+\r
+_Margery_. My brother! God! What words to me!\r
+\r
+_Valentine_. In this game let our Lord God be!\r
+That which is done, alas! is done.\r
+And every thing its course will run.\r
+With one you secretly begin,\r
+Presently more of them come in,\r
+And when a dozen share in thee,\r
+Thou art the whole town's property.\r
+\r
+When shame is born to this world of sorrow,\r
+The birth is carefully hid from sight,\r
+And the mysterious veil of night\r
+To cover her head they borrow;\r
+Yes, they would gladly stifle the wearer;\r
+But as she grows and holds herself high,\r
+She walks uncovered in day's broad eye,\r
+Though she has not become a whit fairer.\r
+The uglier her face to sight,\r
+The more she courts the noonday light.\r
+\r
+Already I the time can see\r
+When all good souls shall shrink from thee,\r
+Thou prostitute, when thou go'st by them,\r
+As if a tainted corpse were nigh them.\r
+Thy heart within thy breast shall quake then,\r
+When they look thee in the face.\r
+Shalt wear no gold chain more on thy neck then!\r
+Shalt stand no more in the holy place!\r
+No pleasure in point-lace collars take then,\r
+Nor for the dance thy person deck then!\r
+But into some dark corner gliding,\r
+'Mong beggars and cripples wilt be hiding;\r
+And even should God thy sin forgive,\r
+Wilt be curs'd on earth while thou shalt live!\r
+\r
+_Martha_. Your soul to the mercy of God surrender!\r
+Will you add to your load the sin of slander?\r
+\r
+_Valentine_. Could I get at thy dried-up frame,\r
+Vile bawd, so lost to all sense of shame!\r
+Then might I hope, e'en this side Heaven,\r
+Richly to find my sins forgiven.\r
+\r
+_Margery_. My brother! This is hell to me!\r
+\r
+_Valentine_. I tell thee, let these weak tears be!\r
+When thy last hold of honor broke,\r
+Thou gav'st my heart the heaviest stroke.\r
+I'm going home now through the grave\r
+To God, a soldier and a brave.\r
+ [_Dies_.]\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ CATHEDRAL.\r
+\r
+ _Service, Organ, and Singing._\r
+\r
+\r
+ [MARGERY _amidst a crowd of people._ EVIL SPIRIT _behind_ MARGERY.]\r
+\r
+_Evil Spirit_. How different was it with thee, Margy,\r
+When, innocent and artless,\r
+Thou cam'st here to the altar,\r
+From the well-thumbed little prayer-book,\r
+Petitions lisping,\r
+Half full of child's play,\r
+Half full of Heaven!\r
+Margy!\r
+Where are thy thoughts?\r
+What crime is buried\r
+Deep within thy heart?\r
+Prayest thou haply for thy mother, who\r
+Slept over into long, long pain, on thy account?\r
+Whose blood upon thy threshold lies?\r
+--And stirs there not, already\r
+Beneath thy heart a life\r
+Tormenting itself and thee\r
+With bodings of its coming hour?\r
+\r
+_Margery_. Woe! Woe!\r
+Could I rid me of the thoughts,\r
+Still through my brain backward and forward flitting,\r
+Against my will!\r
+\r
+_Chorus_. Dies irae, dies illa\r
+Solvet saeclum in favillâ.\r
+\r
+ [_Organ plays_.]\r
+\r
+_Evil Spirit_. Wrath smites thee!\r
+Hark! the trumpet sounds!\r
+The graves are trembling!\r
+And thy heart,\r
+Made o'er again\r
+For fiery torments,\r
+Waking from its ashes\r
+Starts up!\r
+\r
+_Margery_. Would I were hence!\r
+I feel as if the organ's peal\r
+My breath were stifling,\r
+The choral chant\r
+My heart were melting.\r
+\r
+_Chorus_. Judex ergo cum sedebit,\r
+Quidquid latet apparebit.\r
+Nil inultum remanebit.\r
+\r
+_Margery_. How cramped it feels!\r
+The walls and pillars\r
+Imprison me!\r
+And the arches\r
+Crush me!--Air!\r
+\r
+_Evil Spirit_. What! hide thee! sin and shame\r
+Will not be hidden!\r
+Air? Light?\r
+Woe's thee!\r
+\r
+_Chorus_. Quid sum miser tunc dicturus?\r
+Quem patronum rogaturus?\r
+Cum vix justus sit securus.\r
+\r
+_Evil Spirit_. They turn their faces,\r
+The glorified, from thee.\r
+To take thy hand, the pure ones\r
+Shudder with horror.\r
+Woe!\r
+\r
+_Chorus_. Quid sum miser tunc dicturus?\r
+\r
+_Margery_. Neighbor! your phial!--\r
+ [_She swoons._]\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ WALPURGIS NIGHT.[32]\r
+\r
+ _Harz Mountains._\r
+\r
+ _District of Schirke and Elend._\r
+\r
+\r
+ FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Wouldst thou not like a broomstick, now, to ride on?\r
+At this rate we are, still, a long way off;\r
+I'd rather have a good tough goat, by half,\r
+Than the best legs a man e'er set his pride on.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. So long as I've a pair of good fresh legs to stride on,\r
+Enough for me this knotty staff.\r
+What use of shortening the way!\r
+Following the valley's labyrinthine winding,\r
+Then up this rock a pathway finding,\r
+From which the spring leaps down in bubbling play,\r
+That is what spices such a walk, I say!\r
+Spring through the birch-tree's veins is flowing,\r
+The very pine is feeling it;\r
+Should not its influence set our limbs a-glowing?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I do not feel it, not a bit!\r
+My wintry blood runs very slowly;\r
+I wish my path were filled with frost and snow.\r
+The moon's imperfect disk, how melancholy\r
+It rises there with red, belated glow,\r
+And shines so badly, turn where'er one can turn,\r
+At every step he hits a rock or tree!\r
+With leave I'll beg a Jack-o'lantern!\r
+I see one yonder burning merrily.\r
+Heigh, there! my friend! May I thy aid desire?\r
+Why waste at such a rate thy fire?\r
+Come, light us up yon path, good fellow, pray!\r
+\r
+_Jack-o'lantern_. Out of respect, I hope I shall be able\r
+To rein a nature quite unstable;\r
+We usually take a zigzag way.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Heigh! heigh! He thinks man's crooked course to travel.\r
+Go straight ahead, or, by the devil,\r
+I'll blow your flickering life out with a puff.\r
+\r
+_Jack-o'lantern_. You're master of the house, that's plain enough,\r
+So I'll comply with your desire.\r
+But see! The mountain's magic-mad to-night,\r
+And if your guide's to be a Jack-o'lantern's light,\r
+Strict rectitude you'll scarce require.\r
+\r
+FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, JACK-O'LANTERN, _in alternate song_.\r
+\r
+ Spheres of magic, dream, and vision,\r
+ Now, it seems, are opening o'er us.\r
+ For thy credit, use precision!\r
+ Let the way be plain before us\r
+ Through the lengthening desert regions.\r
+\r
+ See how trees on trees, in legions,\r
+ Hurrying by us, change their places,\r
+ And the bowing crags make faces,\r
+ And the rocks, long noses showing,\r
+ Hear them snoring, hear them blowing![33]\r
+\r
+ Down through stones, through mosses flowing,\r
+ See the brook and brooklet springing.\r
+ Hear I rustling? hear I singing?\r
+ Love-plaints, sweet and melancholy,\r
+ Voices of those days so holy?\r
+ All our loving, longing, yearning?\r
+ Echo, like a strain returning\r
+ From the olden times, is ringing.\r
+\r
+ Uhu! Schuhu! Tu-whit! Tu-whit!\r
+ Are the jay, and owl, and pewit\r
+ All awake and loudly calling?\r
+ What goes through the bushes yonder?\r
+ Can it be the Salamander--\r
+ Belly thick and legs a-sprawling?\r
+ Roots and fibres, snake-like, crawling,\r
+ Out from rocky, sandy places,\r
+ Wheresoe'er we turn our faces,\r
+ Stretch enormous fingers round us,\r
+ Here to catch us, there confound us;\r
+ Thick, black knars to life are starting,\r
+ Polypusses'-feelers darting\r
+ At the traveller. Field-mice, swarming,\r
+ Thousand-colored armies forming,\r
+ Scamper on through moss and heather!\r
+ And the glow-worms, in the darkling,\r
+ With their crowded escort sparkling,\r
+ Would confound us altogether.\r
+\r
+ But to guess I'm vainly trying--\r
+ Are we stopping? are we hieing?\r
+ Round and round us all seems flying,\r
+ Rocks and trees, that make grimaces,\r
+ And the mist-lights of the places\r
+ Ever swelling, multiplying.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Here's my coat-tail--tightly thumb it!\r
+We have reached a middle summit,\r
+Whence one stares to see how shines\r
+Mammon in the mountain-mines.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. How strangely through the dim recesses\r
+A dreary dawning seems to glow!\r
+And even down the deep abysses\r
+Its melancholy quiverings throw!\r
+Here smoke is boiling, mist exhaling;\r
+Here from a vapory veil it gleams,\r
+Then, a fine thread of light, goes trailing,\r
+Then gushes up in fiery streams.\r
+The valley, here, you see it follow,\r
+One mighty flood, with hundred rills,\r
+And here, pent up in some deep hollow,\r
+It breaks on all sides down the hills.\r
+Here, spark-showers, darting up before us,\r
+Like golden sand-clouds rise and fall.\r
+But yonder see how blazes o'er us,\r
+All up and down, the rocky wall!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Has not Sir Mammon gloriously lighted\r
+His palace for this festive night?\r
+Count thyself lucky for the sight:\r
+I catch e'en now a glimpse of noisy guests invited.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. How the mad tempest[34] sweeps the air!\r
+On cheek and neck the wind-gusts how they flout me.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Must seize the rock's old ribs and hold on stoutly!\r
+Else will they hurl thee down the dark abysses there.\r
+A mist-rain thickens the gloom.\r
+Hark, how the forests crash and boom!\r
+Out fly the owls in dread and wonder;\r
+Splitting their columns asunder,\r
+Hear it, the evergreen palaces shaking!\r
+Boughs are twisting and breaking!\r
+Of stems what a grinding and moaning!\r
+Of roots what a creaking and groaning!\r
+In frightful confusion, headlong tumbling,\r
+They fall, with a sound of thunder rumbling,\r
+And, through the wreck-piled ravines and abysses,\r
+The tempest howls and hisses.\r
+Hearst thou voices high up o'er us?\r
+Close around us--far before us?\r
+Through the mountain, all along,\r
+Swells a torrent of magic song.\r
+\r
+_Witches_ [_in chorus_]. The witches go to the Brocken's top,\r
+ The stubble is yellow, and green the crop.\r
+ They gather there at the well-known call,\r
+ Sir Urian[85] sits at the head of all.\r
+ Then on we go o'er stone and stock:\r
+ The witch, she--and--the buck.\r
+\r
+_Voice_. Old Baubo comes along, I vow!\r
+She rides upon a farrow-sow.\r
+\r
+_Chorus_. Then honor to whom honor's due!\r
+ Ma'am Baubo ahead! and lead the crew!\r
+ A good fat sow, and ma'am on her back,\r
+ Then follow the witches all in a pack.\r
+\r
+_Voice_. Which way didst thou come?\r
+\r
+_Voice_. By the Ilsenstein!\r
+Peeped into an owl's nest, mother of mine!\r
+What a pair of eyes!\r
+\r
+_Voice_. To hell with your flurry!\r
+Why ride in such hurry!\r
+\r
+_Voice_. The hag be confounded!\r
+My skin flie has wounded!\r
+\r
+_Witches_ [_chorus]._ The way is broad, the way is long,\r
+ What means this noisy, crazy throng?\r
+ The broom it scratches, the fork it flicks,\r
+ The child is stifled, the mother breaks.\r
+\r
+_Wizards_ [_semi-chorus_]. Like housed-up snails we're creeping on,\r
+The women all ahead are gone.\r
+When to the Bad One's house we go,\r
+She gains a thousand steps, you know.\r
+\r
+_The other half_. We take it not precisely so;\r
+What she in thousand steps can go,\r
+Make all the haste she ever can,\r
+'Tis done in just one leap by man.\r
+\r
+_Voice_ [_above_]. Come on, come on, from Felsensee!\r
+\r
+_Voices_ [_from below_]. We'd gladly join your airy way.\r
+For wash and clean us as much as we will,\r
+We always prove unfruitful still.\r
+\r
+_Both chorusses_. The wind is hushed, the star shoots by,\r
+ The moon she hides her sickly eye.\r
+ The whirling, whizzing magic-choir\r
+ Darts forth ten thousand sparks of fire.\r
+\r
+_Voice_ [_from below_]. Ho, there! whoa, there!\r
+\r
+_Voice_ [_from above_]. Who calls from the rocky cleft below there?\r
+\r
+_Voice_ [_below_]. Take me too! take me too!\r
+Three hundred years I've climbed to you,\r
+Seeking in vain my mates to come at,\r
+For I can never reach the summit.\r
+\r
+_Both chorusses_. Can ride the besom, the stick can ride,\r
+ Can stride the pitchfork, the goat can stride;\r
+ Who neither will ride to-night, nor can,\r
+ Must be forever a ruined man.\r
+\r
+_Half-witch_ [_below_]. I hobble on--I'm out of wind--\r
+And still they leave me far behind!\r
+To find peace here in vain I come,\r
+I get no more than I left at home.\r
+\r
+_Chorus of witches_. The witch's salve can never fail,\r
+ A rag will answer for a sail,\r
+ Any trough will do for a ship, that's tight;\r
+ He'll never fly who flies not to-night.\r
+\r
+_Both chorusses_. And when the highest peak we round,\r
+ Then lightly graze along the ground,\r
+ And cover the heath, where eye can see,\r
+ With the flower of witch-errantry.\r
+ [_They alight_.]\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles._ What squeezing and pushing, what rustling and hustling!\r
+What hissing and twirling, what chattering and bustling!\r
+How it shines and sparkles and burns and stinks!\r
+A true witch-element, methinks!\r
+Keep close! or we are parted in two winks.\r
+Where art thou?\r
+\r
+_Faust_ [_in the distance_]. Here!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. What! carried off already?\r
+Then I must use my house-right.--Steady!\r
+Room! Squire Voland[36] comes. Sweet people, Clear the ground!\r
+Here, Doctor, grasp my arm! and, at a single bound;\r
+Let us escape, while yet 'tis easy;\r
+E'en for the like of me they're far too crazy.\r
+See! yonder, something shines with quite peculiar glare,\r
+And draws me to those bushes mazy.\r
+Come! come! and let us slip in there.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. All-contradicting sprite! To follow thee I'm fated.\r
+But I must say, thy plan was very bright!\r
+We seek the Brocken here, on the Walpurgis night,\r
+Then hold ourselves, when here, completely isolated!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. What motley flames light up the heather!\r
+A merry club is met together,\r
+In a small group one's not alone.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. I'd rather be up there, I own!\r
+See! curling smoke and flames right blue!\r
+To see the Evil One they travel;\r
+There many a riddle to unravel.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. And tie up many another, too.\r
+Let the great world there rave and riot,\r
+We here will house ourselves in quiet.\r
+The saying has been long well known:\r
+In the great world one makes a small one of his own.\r
+I see young witches there quite naked all,\r
+And old ones who, more prudent, cover.\r
+For my sake some flight things look over;\r
+The fun is great, the trouble small.\r
+I hear them tuning instruments! Curs'd jangle!\r
+Well! one must learn with such things not to wrangle.\r
+Come on! Come on! For so it needs must be,\r
+Thou shalt at once be introduced by me.\r
+And I new thanks from thee be earning.\r
+That is no scanty space; what sayst thou, friend?\r
+Just take a look! thou scarce canst see the end.\r
+There, in a row, a hundred fires are burning;\r
+They dance, chat, cook, drink, love; where can be found\r
+Any thing better, now, the wide world round?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Wilt thou, as things are now in this condition,\r
+Present thyself for devil, or magician?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I've been much used, indeed, to going incognito;\r
+\r
+But then, on gala-day, one will his order show.\r
+No garter makes my rank appear,\r
+But then the cloven foot stands high in honor here.\r
+Seest thou the snail? Look there! where she comes creeping yonder!\r
+Had she already smelt the rat,\r
+I should not very greatly wonder.\r
+Disguise is useless now, depend on that.\r
+Come, then! we will from fire to fire wander,\r
+Thou shalt the wooer be and I the pander.\r
+ [_To a party who sit round expiring embers_.]\r
+Old gentlemen, you scarce can hear the fiddle!\r
+You'd gain more praise from me, ensconced there in the middle,\r
+'Mongst that young rousing, tousing set.\r
+One can, at home, enough retirement get.\r
+\r
+_General_. Trust not the people's fickle favor!\r
+However much thou mayst for them have done.\r
+Nations, as well as women, ever,\r
+Worship the rising, not the setting sun.\r
+\r
+_Minister_. From the right path we've drifted far away,\r
+The good old past my heart engages;\r
+Those were the real golden ages,\r
+When such as we held all the sway.\r
+\r
+_Parvenu_. We were no simpletons, I trow,\r
+And often did the thing we should not;\r
+But all is turning topsy-turvy now,\r
+And if we tried to stem the wave, we could not.\r
+\r
+_Author_. Who on the whole will read a work today,\r
+Of moderate sense, with any pleasure?\r
+And as regards the dear young people, they\r
+Pert and precocious are beyond all measure.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_ [_who all at once appears very old_].\r
+The race is ripened for the judgment day:\r
+So I, for the last time, climb the witch-mountain, thinking,\r
+And, as my cask runs thick, I say,\r
+The world, too, on its lees is sinking.\r
+\r
+_Witch-broker_. Good gentlemen, don't hurry by!\r
+The opportunity's a rare one!\r
+My stock is an uncommon fair one,\r
+Please give it an attentive eye.\r
+There's nothing in my shop, whatever,\r
+But on the earth its mate is found;\r
+That has not proved itself right clever\r
+To deal mankind some fatal wound.\r
+No dagger here, but blood has some time stained it;\r
+No cup, that has not held some hot and poisonous juice,\r
+And stung to death the throat that drained it;\r
+No trinket, but did once a maid seduce;\r
+No sword, but hath some tie of sacred honor riven,\r
+Or haply from behind through foeman's neck been driven.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. You're quite behind the times, I tell you, Aunty!\r
+By-gones be by-gones! done is done!\r
+Get us up something new and jaunty!\r
+For new things now the people run.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. To keep my wits I must endeavor!\r
+Call this a fair! I swear, I never--!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Upward the billowy mass is moving;\r
+You're shoved along and think, meanwhile, you're shoving.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. What woman's that?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Mark her attentively.\r
+That's Lilith.[37]\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Who?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopbeles_. Adam's first wife is she.\r
+Beware of her one charm, those lovely tresses,\r
+In which she shines preeminently fair.\r
+When those soft meshes once a young man snare,\r
+How hard 'twill be to escape he little guesses.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. There sit an old one and a young together;\r
+They've skipped it well along the heather!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. No rest from that till night is through.\r
+Another dance is up; come on! let us fall to.\r
+\r
+_Faust_ [_dancing with the young one_]. A lovely dream once came to me;\r
+In it I saw an apple-tree;\r
+Two beauteous apples beckoned there,\r
+I climbed to pluck the fruit so fair.\r
+\r
+_The Fair one_. Apples you greatly seem to prize,\r
+And did so even in Paradise.\r
+I feel myself delighted much\r
+That in my garden I have such.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_ [_with the old hag_]. A dismal dream once came to me;\r
+In it I saw a cloven tree,\r
+It had a ------ but still,\r
+I looked on it with right good-will.\r
+\r
+_The Hog_. With best respect I here salute\r
+The noble knight of the cloven foot!\r
+Let him hold a ------ near,\r
+If a ------ he does not fear.\r
+\r
+_Proctophantasmist_.[38] What's this ye undertake? Confounded crew!\r
+Have we not giv'n you demonstration?\r
+No spirit stands on legs in all creation,\r
+And here you dance just as we mortals do!\r
+\r
+_The Fair one_ [_dancing_]. What does that fellow at our ball?\r
+\r
+_Faust_ [_dancing_]. Eh! he must have a hand in all.\r
+What others dance that he appraises.\r
+Unless each step he criticizes,\r
+The step as good as no step he will call.\r
+But when we move ahead, that plagues him more than all.\r
+If in a circle you would still keep turning,\r
+As he himself in his old mill goes round,\r
+He would be sure to call that sound!\r
+And most so, if you went by his superior learning.\r
+\r
+_Proctophantasmist_. What, and you still are here! Unheard off obstinates!\r
+Begone! We've cleared it up! You shallow pates!\r
+The devilish pack from rules deliverance boasts.\r
+We've grown so wise, and Tegel[39] still sees ghosts.\r
+How long I've toiled to sweep these cobwebs from the brain,\r
+And yet--unheard of folly! all in vain.\r
+\r
+_The Fair one_. And yet on us the stupid bore still tries it!\r
+\r
+_Proctophantasmist_. I tell you spirits, to the face,\r
+I give to spirit-tyranny no place,\r
+My spirit cannot exercise it.\r
+ [_They dance on_.]\r
+I can't succeed to-day, I know it;\r
+Still, there's the journey, which I like to make,\r
+And hope, before the final step I take,\r
+To rid the world of devil and of poet.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. You'll see him shortly sit into a puddle,\r
+In that way his heart is reassured;\r
+When on his rump the leeches well shall fuddle,\r
+Of spirits and of spirit he'll be cured.\r
+ [_To_ FAUST, _who has left the dance_.]\r
+Why let the lovely girl slip through thy fingers,\r
+Who to thy dance so sweetly sang?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Ah, right amidst her singing, sprang\r
+A wee red mouse from her mouth and made me cower.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. That's nothing wrong! You're in a dainty way;\r
+Enough, the mouse at least wan't gray.\r
+Who minds such thing in happy amorous hour?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Then saw I--\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. What?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Mephisto, seest thou not\r
+Yon pale, fair child afar, who stands so sad and lonely,\r
+And moves so slowly from the spot,\r
+Her feet seem locked, and she drags them only.\r
+I must confess, she seems to me\r
+To look like my own good Margery.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Leave that alone! The sight no health can bring.\r
+it is a magic shape, an idol, no live thing.\r
+To meet it never can be good!\r
+Its haggard look congeals a mortal's blood,\r
+And almost turns him into stone;\r
+The story of Medusa thou hast known.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Yes, 'tis a dead one's eyes that stare upon me,\r
+Eyes that no loving hand e'er closed;\r
+That is the angel form of her who won me,\r
+Tis the dear breast on which I once reposed.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. 'Tis sorcery all, thou fool, misled by passion's dreams!\r
+For she to every one his own love seems.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. What bliss! what woe! Methinks I never\r
+My sight from that sweet form can sever.\r
+Seeft thou, not thicker than a knife-blade's back,\r
+A small red ribbon, fitting sweetly\r
+The lovely neck it clasps so neatly?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I see the streak around her neck.\r
+Her head beneath her arm, you'll next behold her;\r
+Perseus has lopped it from her shoulder,--\r
+But let thy crazy passion rest!\r
+Come, climb with me yon hillock's breast,\r
+Was e'er the Prater[40] merrier then?\r
+And if no sorcerer's charm is o'er me,\r
+That is a theatre before me.\r
+What's doing there?\r
+\r
+_Servibilis_. They'll straight begin again.\r
+A bran-new piece, the very last of seven;\r
+To have so much, the fashion here thinks fit.\r
+By Dilettantes it is given;\r
+'Twas by a Dilettante writ.\r
+Excuse me, sirs, I go to greet you;\r
+I am the curtain-raising Dilettant.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. When I upon the Blocksberg meet you,\r
+That I approve; for there's your place, I grant.\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ WALPURGIS-NIGHT'S DREAM, OR OBERON AND TITANIA'S GOLDEN NUPTIALS.\r
+\r
+ _Intermezzo_.\r
+\r
+\r
+_Theatre manager_. Here, for once, we rest, to-day,\r
+Heirs of Mieding's[41] glory.\r
+All the scenery we display--\r
+Damp vale and mountain hoary!\r
+\r
+_Herald_. To make the wedding a golden one,\r
+Must fifty years expire;\r
+But when once the strife is done,\r
+I prize the _gold_ the higher.\r
+\r
+_Oberon_. Spirits, if my good ye mean,\r
+Now let all wrongs be righted;\r
+For to-day your king and queen\r
+Are once again united.\r
+\r
+_Puck_. Once let Puck coming whirling round,\r
+And set his foot to whisking,\r
+Hundreds with him throng the ground,\r
+Frolicking and frisking.\r
+\r
+_Ariel_. Ariel awakes the song\r
+With many a heavenly measure;\r
+Fools not few he draws along,\r
+But fair ones hear with pleasure.\r
+\r
+_Oberon_. Spouses who your feuds would smother,\r
+Take from us a moral!\r
+Two who wish to love each other,\r
+Need only first to quarrel.\r
+\r
+_Titania_. If she pouts and he looks grim,\r
+Take them both together,\r
+To the north pole carry him,\r
+And off with her to t'other.\r
+\r
+ _Orchestra Tutti_.\r
+\r
+_Fortissimo_. Fly-snouts and gnats'-noses, these,\r
+And kin in all conditions,\r
+Grass-hid crickets, frogs in trees,\r
+We take for our musicians!\r
+\r
+_Solo_. See, the Bagpipe comes! fall back!\r
+Soap-bubble's name he owneth.\r
+How the _Schnecke-schnicke-schnack_\r
+Through his snub-nose droneth!\r
+_Spirit that is just shaping itself_. Spider-foot, toad's-belly, too,\r
+Give the child, and winglet!\r
+'Tis no animalcule, true,\r
+But a poetic thinglet.\r
+\r
+_A pair of lovers_. Little step and lofty bound\r
+Through honey-dew and flowers;\r
+Well thou trippest o'er the ground,\r
+But soarst not o'er the bowers.\r
+\r
+_Curious traveller_. This must be masquerade!\r
+How odd!\r
+My very eyes believe I?\r
+Oberon, the beauteous God\r
+Here, to-night perceive I!\r
+\r
+_Orthodox_. Neither claws, nor tail I see!\r
+And yet, without a cavil,\r
+Just as "the Gods of Greece"[42] were, he\r
+Must also be a devil.\r
+\r
+_Northern artist_. What here I catch is, to be sure,\r
+But sketchy recreation;\r
+And yet for my Italian tour\r
+'Tis timely preparation.\r
+\r
+_Purist_. Bad luck has brought me here, I see!\r
+The rioting grows louder.\r
+And of the whole witch company,\r
+There are but two, wear powder.\r
+\r
+_Young witch_. Powder becomes, like petticoat,\r
+Your little, gray old woman:\r
+Naked I sit upon my goat,\r
+And show the untrimmed human.\r
+\r
+_Matron_. To stand here jawing[43] with you, we\r
+Too much good-breeding cherish;\r
+But young and tender though you be,\r
+I hope you'll rot and perish.\r
+\r
+_Leader of the music_. Fly-snouts and gnat-noses, please,\r
+Swarm not so round the naked!\r
+Grass-hid crickets, frogs in trees,\r
+Keep time and don't forsake it!\r
+\r
+_Weathercock_ [_towards one side_]. Find better company, who can!\r
+Here, brides attended duly!\r
+There, bachelors, ranged man by man,\r
+Most hopeful people truly!\r
+\r
+_Weathercock [towards the other side_].\r
+And if the ground don't open straight,\r
+The crazy crew to swallow,\r
+You'll see me, at a furious rate,\r
+Jump down to hell's black hollow.\r
+\r
+_Xenia[_44] We are here as insects, ah!\r
+Small, sharp nippers wielding,\r
+Satan, as our _cher papa_,\r
+Worthy honor yielding.\r
+\r
+_Hennings_. See how naïvely, there, the throng\r
+Among themselves are jesting,\r
+You'll hear them, I've no doubt, ere long,\r
+Their good kind hearts protesting.\r
+\r
+_Musagetes_. Apollo in this witches' group\r
+Himself right gladly loses;\r
+For truly I could lead this troop\r
+Much easier than the muses.\r
+\r
+_Ci-devant genius of the age_. Right company will raise man up.\r
+Come, grasp my skirt, Lord bless us!\r
+The Blocksberg has a good broad top,\r
+Like Germany's Parnassus.\r
+\r
+_Curious traveller_. Tell me who is that stiff man?\r
+With what stiff step he travels!\r
+He noses out whate'er he can.\r
+"He scents the Jesuit devils."\r
+\r
+_Crane_. In clear, and muddy water, too,\r
+The long-billed gentleman fishes;\r
+Our pious gentlemen we view\r
+Fingering in devils' dishes.\r
+\r
+_Child of this world_. Yes, with the pious ones, 'tis clear,\r
+"All's grist that comes to their mill;"\r
+They build their tabernacles here,\r
+On Blocksberg, as on Carmel.\r
+\r
+_Dancer_. Hark! a new choir salutes my ear!\r
+I hear a distant drumming.\r
+"Be not disturbed! 'mong reeds you hear\r
+The one-toned bitterns bumming."\r
+\r
+_Dancing-master._ How each his legs kicks up and flings,\r
+Pulls foot as best he's able!\r
+The clumsy hops, the crooked springs,\r
+'Tis quite disreputable!\r
+\r
+_Fiddler_. The scurvy pack, they hate, 'tis clear,\r
+Like cats and dogs, each other.\r
+Like Orpheus' lute, the bagpipe here\r
+Binds beast to beast as brother.\r
+\r
+_Dogmatist_. You'll not scream down my reason, though,\r
+By criticism's cavils.\r
+The devil's something, that I know,\r
+Else how could there be devils?\r
+\r
+_Idealist_. Ah, phantasy, for once thy sway\r
+Is guilty of high treason.\r
+If all I see is I, to-day,\r
+'Tis plain I've lost my reason.\r
+\r
+_Realist_. To me, of all life's woes and plagues,\r
+Substance is most provoking,\r
+For the first time I feel my legs\r
+Beneath me almost rocking.\r
+\r
+_Supernaturalist_. I'm overjoyed at being here,\r
+And even among these rude ones;\r
+For if bad spirits are, 'tis clear,\r
+There also must be good ones.\r
+\r
+_Skeptic_. Where'er they spy the flame they roam,\r
+And think rich stores to rifle,\r
+Here such as I are quite at home,\r
+For _Zweifel_ rhymes with _Teufel_.[45]\r
+\r
+_Leader of the music_. Grass-hid cricket, frogs in trees,\r
+You cursed dilettanti!\r
+Fly-snouts and gnats'-noses, peace!\r
+Musicians you, right jaunty!\r
+\r
+_The Clever ones_. Sans-souci we call this band\r
+Of merry ones that skip it;\r
+Unable on our feet to stand,\r
+Upon our heads we trip it.\r
+\r
+_The Bunglers_. Time was, we caught our tit-bits, too,\r
+God help us now! that's done with!\r
+We've danced our leathers entirely through,\r
+And have only bare soles to run with.\r
+\r
+_Jack-o'lanterns_. From the dirty bog we come,\r
+Whence we've just arisen:\r
+Soon in the dance here, quite at home,\r
+As gay young _sparks_ we'll glisten.\r
+\r
+_Shooting star_. Trailing from the sky I shot,\r
+Not a star there missed me:\r
+Crooked up in this grassy spot,\r
+Who to my legs will assist me?\r
+\r
+_The solid men_. Room there! room there! clear the ground!\r
+Grass-blades well may fall so;\r
+Spirits are we, but 'tis found\r
+They have plump limbs also.\r
+\r
+_Puck_. Heavy men! do not, I say,\r
+Like elephants' calves go stumping:\r
+Let the plumpest one to-day\r
+Be Puck, the ever-jumping.\r
+\r
+_Ariel_. If the spirit gave, indeed,\r
+If nature gave you, pinions,\r
+Follow up my airy lead\r
+To the rose-dominions!\r
+\r
+_Orchestra_ [_pianissimo_]. Gauzy mist and fleecy cloud\r
+Sun and wind have banished.\r
+Foliage rustles, reeds pipe loud,\r
+All the show has vanished.\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ DREARY DAY.[46]\r
+\r
+ _Field_.\r
+\r
+\r
+ FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. In wretchedness! In despair! Long hunted up and down the earth, a\r
+miserable fugitive, and caught at last! Locked up as a malefactor in\r
+prison, to converse with horrible torments--the sweet, unhappy creature!\r
+Even to this pass! even to this!--Treacherous, worthless spirit, and this\r
+thou hast hidden from me!--Stand up here--stand up! Roll thy devilish eyes\r
+round grimly in thy head! Stand and defy me with thy intolerable presence!\r
+Imprisoned! In irretrievable misery! Given over to evil spirits and to the\r
+judgment of unfeeling humanity, and me meanwhile thou lullest in insipid\r
+dissipations, concealest from me her growing anguish, and leavest her\r
+without help to perish!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. She is not the first!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Dog! abominable monster! Change him, thou Infinite Spirit! change\r
+the worm back into his canine form, as he was often pleased in the night\r
+to trot before me, to roll before the feet of the harmless wanderer, and,\r
+when he fell, to hang on his shoulders. Change him again into his favorite\r
+shape, that he may crawl before me on his belly in the sand, and that I\r
+may tread him under foot, the reprobate!--Not the first! Misery! Misery!\r
+inconceivable by any human soul! that more than one creature ever sank\r
+into the depth of this wretchedness, that the first in its writhing\r
+death-agony did not atone for the guilt of all the rest before the eyes of\r
+the eternally Forgiving! My very marrow and life are consumed by the\r
+misery of this single one; thou grinnest away composedly at the fate of\r
+thousands!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Here we are again at our wits' ends already, where the\r
+thread of sense, with you mortals, snaps short. Why make a partnership\r
+with us, if thou canst not carry it through? Wilt fly, and art not proof\r
+against dizziness? Did we thrust ourselves on thee, or thou on us?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Gnash not so thy greedy teeth against me! It disgusts me!--Great\r
+and glorious spirit, thou that deignedst to appear to me, who knowest my\r
+heart and soul, why yoke me to this shame-fellow, who feeds on mischief\r
+and feasts on ruin?\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Hast thou done?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Rescue her! O woe be unto thee! The most horrible curse on thee\r
+for thousands of years!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I cannot loose the bonds of the avenger, nor open his\r
+bolts.--Rescue her!--Who was it that plunged her into ruin? I or thou?\r
+ [FAUST _looks wildly round_.]\r
+Grasp'st thou after the thunder? Well that it was not given to you\r
+miserable mortals! To crush an innocent respondent, that is a sort of\r
+tyrant's-way of getting room to breathe in embarrassment.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Lead me to her! She shall be free!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. And the danger which thou incurrest? Know that the guilt\r
+of blood at thy hand still lies upon the town. Over the place of the\r
+slain, avenging spirits hover and lurk for the returning murderer.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. That, too, from thee? Murder and death of a world upon thee,\r
+monster! Lead me thither, I say, and free her!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. I will lead thee, and hear what I can do! Have I all\r
+power in heaven and on earth? I will becloud the turnkey's senses; possess\r
+thyself of the keys, and bear her out with human hand. I will watch! The\r
+magic horses shall be ready, and I will bear you away. So much I can do.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Up and away!\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ NIGHT. OPEN FIELD.\r
+\r
+ FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.\r
+ _Scudding along on black horses_.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. What's doing, off there, round the gallows-tree?[47]\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Know not what they are doing and brewing.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Up they go--down they go--wheel about, reel about.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. A witches'-crew.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. They're strewing and vowing.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. Pass on! Pass on!\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+ PRISON.\r
+\r
+ FAUST [_with a bunch of keys and a lamp, before an iron door_]\r
+A long unwonted chill comes o'er me,\r
+I feel the whole great load of human woe.\r
+Within this clammy wall that frowns before me\r
+Lies one whom blinded love, not guilt, brought low!\r
+Thou lingerest, in hope to grow bolder!\r
+Thou fearest again to behold her!\r
+On! Thy shrinking slowly hastens the blow!\r
+ [_He grasps the key. Singing from within_.]\r
+My mother, the harlot,\r
+That strung me up!\r
+My father, the varlet,\r
+That ate me up!\r
+My sister small,\r
+She gathered up all\r
+The bones that day,\r
+And in a cool place did lay;\r
+Then I woke, a sweet bird, at a magic call;\r
+Fly away, fly away!\r
+\r
+_Faust [unlocking_]. She little dreams, her lover is so near,\r
+The clanking chains, the rustling straw can hear;\r
+ [_He enters_.]\r
+\r
+_Margaret [burying herself in the bed_]. Woe! woe!\r
+They come. O death of bitterness!\r
+\r
+_Faust_ [_softly_]. Hush! hush! I come to free thee; thou art dreaming.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_ [_prostrating herself before him_].\r
+Art thou a man, then feel for my distress.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Thou'lt wake the guards with thy loud screaming!\r
+ [_He seizes the chains to tin lock them._]\r
+\r
+_Margaret_ [_on her knees_]. Headsman, who's given thee this right\r
+O'er me, this power!\r
+Thou com'st for me at dead of night;\r
+In pity spare me, one short hour!\r
+Wilt't not be time when Matin bell has rung?\r
+ [_She stands up._]\r
+Ah, I am yet so young, so young!\r
+And death pursuing!\r
+Fair was I too, and that was my undoing.\r
+My love was near, far is he now!\r
+Tom is the wreath, the scattered flowers lie low.\r
+Take not such violent hold of me!\r
+Spare me! what harm have I done to thee?\r
+Let me not in vain implore thee.\r
+Thou ne'er till now sawft her who lies before thee!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. O sorrow worse than death is o'er me!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Now I am wholly in thy power.\r
+But first I'd nurse my child--do not prevent me.\r
+I hugged it through the black night hour;\r
+They took it from me to torment me,\r
+And now they say I killed the pretty flower.\r
+I shall never be happy again, I know.\r
+They sing vile songs at me! 'Tis bad in them to do it!\r
+There's an old tale that ends just so,\r
+Who gave that meaning to it?\r
+\r
+_Faust [prostrates himself_]. A lover at thy feet is bending,\r
+Thy bonds of misery would be rending.\r
+\r
+_Margaret [flings herself beside him_].\r
+O let us kneel, the saints for aid invoking!\r
+See! 'neath the threshold smoking,\r
+Fire-breathing,\r
+Hell is seething!\r
+There prowling,\r
+And grim under cover,\r
+Satan is howling!\r
+\r
+_Faust [aloud_]. Margery! Margery!\r
+\r
+_Margaret [listening_]. That was the voice of my lover!\r
+ [_She springs up. The chains fall off_.]\r
+\r
+Where is he? Where? He calls. I hear him.\r
+I'm free! Who hinders? I will be near him.\r
+I'll fly to his neck! I'll hold him!\r
+To my bosom I'll enfold him!\r
+He stood on the threshold--called Margery plainly!\r
+Hell's howling and clattering to drown it sought vainly,--\r
+Through the devilish, grim scoffs, that might turn one to stone,\r
+I caught the sweet, loving, enrapturing tone.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. 'Tis I!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. 'Tis thou! O say it once again.\r
+ [_Clasping again._]\r
+'Tis he! 'tis he! Where now is all my pain?\r
+And where the dungeon's anguish? Joy-giver!\r
+'Tis thou! And come to deliver!\r
+I am delivered!\r
+Again before me lies the street,\r
+Where for the first time thou and I did meet.\r
+And the garden-bower,\r
+Where we spent that evening hour.\r
+\r
+_Faust_ [_trying to draw her away_]. Come! Come with me!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. O tarry!\r
+I tarry so gladly where thou tarriest.\r
+ [_Caressing him._]\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Hurry!\r
+Unless thou hurriest,\r
+Bitterly we both must rue it.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Kiss me! Canst no more do it?\r
+So short an absence, love, as this,\r
+And forgot how to kiss?\r
+What saddens me so as I hang about thy neck?\r
+When once, in thy words, thy looks, such a heaven of blisses\r
+Came o'er me, I thought my heart would break,\r
+And it seemed as if thou wouldst smother me with kisses.\r
+Kiss thou me!\r
+Else I kiss thee!\r
+ [_She embraces him._]\r
+Woe! woe! thy lips are cold,\r
+Stone-dumb.\r
+Where's thy love left?\r
+Oh! I'm bereft!\r
+Who robbed me?\r
+ [_She turns from him_]\r
+\r
+_Faust_. O come!\r
+Take courage, my darling! Let us go;\r
+I clasp-thee with unutterable glow;\r
+But follow me! For this alone I plead!\r
+\r
+_Margaret [turning to him_]. Is it, then, thou?\r
+And is it thou indeed?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. 'Tis I! Come, follow me!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Thou break'st my chain,\r
+And tak'st me to thy breast again!\r
+How comes it, then, that thou art not afraid of me?\r
+And dost thou know, my friend, who 'tis thou settest free?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Come! come! The night is on the wane.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Woe! woe! My mother I've slain!\r
+Have drowned the babe of mine!\r
+Was it not sent to be mine and thine?\r
+Thine, too--'tis thou! Scarce true doth it seem.\r
+Give me thy hand! 'Tis not a dream!\r
+Thy blessed hand!--But ah! there's dampness here!\r
+Go, wipe it off! I fear\r
+There's blood thereon.\r
+Ah God! what hast thou done!\r
+Put up thy sword again;\r
+I pray thee, do!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. The past is past--there leave it then,\r
+Thou kill'st me too!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. No, thou must longer tarry!\r
+I'll tell thee how each thou shalt bury;\r
+The places of sorrow\r
+Make ready to-morrow;\r
+Must give the best place to my mother,\r
+The very next to my brother,\r
+Me a little aside,\r
+But make not the space too wide!\r
+And on my right breast let the little one lie.\r
+No one else will be sleeping by me.\r
+Once, to feel _thy_ heart beat nigh me,\r
+Oh, 'twas a precious, a tender joy!\r
+But I shall have it no more--no, never;\r
+I seem to be forcing myself on thee ever,\r
+And thou repelling me freezingly;\r
+And 'tis thou, the same good soul, I see.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. If thou feelest 'tis I, then come with me\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Out yonder?\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Into the open air.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. If the grave is there,\r
+If death is lurking; then come!\r
+From here to the endless resting-place,\r
+And not another pace--Thou\r
+go'st e'en now? O, Henry, might I too.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Thou canst! 'Tis but to will! The door stands open.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. I dare not go; for me there's no more hoping.\r
+What use to fly? They lie in wait for me.\r
+So wretched the lot to go round begging,\r
+With an evil conscience thy spirit plaguing!\r
+So wretched the lot, an exile roaming--And\r
+then on my heels they are ever coming!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. I shall be with thee.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Make haste! make haste!\r
+No time to waste!\r
+Save thy poor child!\r
+Quick! follow the edge\r
+Of the rushing rill,\r
+Over the bridge\r
+And by the mill,\r
+Then into the woods beyond\r
+On the left where lies the plank\r
+Over the pond.\r
+Seize hold of it quick!\r
+To rise 'tis trying,\r
+It struggles still!\r
+Rescue! rescue!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Bethink thyself, pray!\r
+A single step and thou art free!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Would we were by the mountain. See!\r
+There sits my mother on a stone,\r
+The sight on my brain is preying!\r
+There sits my mother on a stone,\r
+And her head is constantly swaying;\r
+She beckons not, nods not, her head falls o'er,\r
+So long she's been sleeping, she'll wake no more.\r
+She slept that we might take pleasure.\r
+O that was bliss without measure!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Since neither reason nor prayer thou hearest;\r
+I must venture by force to take thee, dearest.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Let go! No violence will I bear!\r
+Take not such a murderous hold of me!\r
+I once did all I could to gratify thee.\r
+\r
+_Faust_. The day is breaking! Dearest! dearest!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Day! Ay, it is day! the last great day breaks in!\r
+My wedding-day it should have been!\r
+Tell no one thou hast been with Margery!\r
+Alas for my garland! The hour's advancing!\r
+Retreat is in vain!\r
+We meet again,\r
+But not at the dancing.\r
+The multitude presses, no word is spoke.\r
+Square, streets, all places--\r
+sea of faces--\r
+The bell is tolling, the staff is broke.\r
+How they seize me and bind me!\r
+They hurry me off to the bloody block.[48]\r
+The blade that quivers behind me,\r
+Quivers at every neck with convulsive shock;\r
+Dumb lies the world as the grave!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. O had I ne'er been born!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles [appears without_]. Up! or thou'rt lost! The morn\r
+Flushes the sky.\r
+Idle delaying! Praying and playing!\r
+My horses are neighing,\r
+They shudder and snort for the bound.\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. What's that, comes up from the ground?\r
+He! He! Avaunt! that face!\r
+What will he in the sacred place?\r
+He seeks me!\r
+\r
+_Faust_. Thou shalt live!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Great God in heaven!\r
+Unto thy judgment my soul have I given!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles [to Faust_].\r
+Come! come! or in the lurch I leave both her and thee!\r
+\r
+_Margaret_. Thine am I, Father! Rescue me!\r
+Ye angels, holy bands, attend me!\r
+And camp around me to defend me I\r
+Henry! I dread to look on thee.\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles_. She's judged!\r
+\r
+_Voice [from above_]. She's saved!\r
+\r
+_Mephistopheles [to Faust_]. Come thou to me!\r
+ [_Vanishes with_ FAUST.]\r
+\r
+_Voice [from within, dying away_]. Henry! Henry!\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+NOTES.\r
+\r
+\r
+[Footnote 1: Dedication. The idea of Faust had early entered into Goethe's\r
+mind. He probably began the work when he was about twenty years old. It\r
+was first published, as a fragment, in 1790, and did not appear in its\r
+present form till 1808, when its author's age was nearly sixty. By the\r
+"forms" are meant, of course, the shadowy personages and scenes of the\r
+drama.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 2: --"Thy messengers"--\r
+ "He maketh the winds his-messengers,\r
+ The flaming lightnings his ministers."\r
+ _Noyes's Psalms_, c. iv. 4.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 3: "The Word Divine." In translating the German "Werdende"\r
+(literally, the _becoming, developing_, or _growing_) by the term _word_,\r
+I mean the _word_ in the largest sense: "In the beginning was the Word,\r
+&c." Perhaps "nature" would be a pretty good rendering, but "word," being\r
+derived from "werden," and expressing philosophically and scripturally the\r
+going forth or manifestation of mind, seemed to me as appropriate a\r
+translation as any.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 4: "The old fellow." The commentators do not seem quite agreed\r
+whether "den Alten" (the old one) is an entirely reverential phrase here,\r
+like the "ancient of days," or savors a little of profane pleasantry, like\r
+the title "old man" given by boys to their schoolmaster or of "the old\r
+gentleman" to their fathers. Considering who the speaker is, I have\r
+naturally inclined to the latter alternative.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 5: "Nostradamus" (properly named Michel Notre Dame) lived\r
+through the first half of the sixteenth century. He was born in the south\r
+of France and was of Jewish extraction. As physician and astrologer, he\r
+was held in high honor by the French nobility and kings.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 6: The "Macrocosm" is the great world of outward things, in\r
+contrast with its epitome, the little world in man, called the microcosm\r
+(or world in miniature).]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 7: "Famulus" seems to mean a cross between a servant and a\r
+scholar. The Dominie Sampson called Wagner, is appended to Faust for the\r
+time somewhat as Sancho is to Don Quixote. The Doctor Faust of the legend\r
+has a servant by that name, who seems to have been more of a _Sancho_, in\r
+the sense given to the word by the old New England mothers when upbraiding\r
+bad boys (you Sanch'!). Curiously enough, Goethe had in early life a\r
+(treacherous) friend named Wagner, who plagiarized part of Faust and made\r
+a tragedy of it.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 8: "Mock-heroic play." We have Schlegel's authority for thus\r
+rendering the phrase "Haupt- und Staats-Action," (literally, "head and\r
+State-action,") who says that this title was given to dramas designed for\r
+puppets, when they treated of heroic and historical subjects.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 9: The literal sense of this couplet in the original is:--\r
+ "Is he, in the bliss of becoming,\r
+ To creative joy near--"\r
+"Werde-lust" presents the same difficulty that we found in note 3. This\r
+same word, "Werden," is also used by the poet in the introductory theatre\r
+scene (page 7), where he longs for the time when he himself was\r
+_ripening_, growing, becoming, or _forming_, (as Hayward renders it.) I\r
+agree with Hayward, "the meaning probably is, that our Saviour enjoys, in\r
+coming to life again," (I should say, in being born into the upper life,)\r
+"a happiness nearly equal to that of the Creator in creating."]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 10: The Angel-chorusses in this scene present the only instances\r
+in which the translator, for the sake of retaining the ring and swing of\r
+the melody, has felt himself obliged to give a transfusion of the spirit\r
+of the thought, instead of its exact form.\r
+\r
+The literal meaning of the first chorus is:--\r
+\r
+ Christ is arisen!\r
+ Joy to the Mortal,\r
+ Whom the ruinous,\r
+ Creeping, hereditary\r
+ Infirmities wound round.\r
+\r
+Dr. Hedge has come nearer than any one to reconciling meaning and melody\r
+thus:--\r
+\r
+ "Christ has arisen!\r
+ Joy to our buried Head!\r
+ Whom the unmerited,\r
+ Trailing, inherited\r
+ Woes did imprison."\r
+\r
+The present translator, without losing sight of the fact that "the Mortal"\r
+means Christ, has taken the liberty (constrained by rhyme,--which is\r
+sometimes more than the _rudder_ of verse,) of making the congratulation\r
+include Humanity, as incarnated in Christ, "the second Adam."\r
+\r
+In the closing Chorus of Angels, the translator found that he could best\r
+preserve the spirit of the five-fold rhyme:--\r
+\r
+ "Thätig ihn preisenden,\r
+ Liebe beweisenden,\r
+ Brüderlich speisenden,\r
+ Predigend reisenden,\r
+ Wonne verheissenden,"\r
+\r
+by running it into three couplets.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 11: The prose account of the alchymical process is as follows:--\r
+\r
+"There was red mercury, a powerfully acting body, united with the tincture\r
+of antimony, at a gentle heat of the water-bath. Then, being exposed to\r
+the heat of open fire in an aludel, (or alembic,) a sublimate filled its\r
+heads in succession, which, if it appeared with various hues, was the\r
+desired medicine."]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 12: "Salamander, &c." The four represent the spirits of the\r
+four elements, fire, water, air, and earth, which Faust successively\r
+conjures, so that, if the monster belongs in any respect to this mundane\r
+sphere, he may be exorcized. But it turns out that he is beyond and\r
+beneath all.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 13: Here, of course, Faust makes the sign of the cross, or holds\r
+out a crucifix.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 14: "Fly-God," _i.e._ Beelzebub.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 15: The "Drudenfuss," or pentagram, was a pentagonal figure\r
+composed of three triangles, thus:\r
+[Illustration]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 16: Doctor's Feast. The inaugural feast given at taking a\r
+degree.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 17: "Blood." When at the first invention of printing, the art\r
+was ascribed to the devil, the illuminated red ink parts were said by the\r
+people to be done in blood.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 18: "The Spanish boot" was an instrument of torture, like the\r
+Scottish boot mentioned in Old Mortality.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 19: "Encheiresin Naturæ." Literally, a handling of nature.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 20: Still a famous place of public resort and entertainment. On\r
+the wall are two old paintings of Faust's carousal and his ride out of the\r
+door on a cask. One is accompanied by the following inscription, being two\r
+lines (Hexameter and Pentameter) broken into halves:--\r
+\r
+ "Vive, bibe, obgregare, memor\r
+ Fausti hujus et hujus\r
+ Pœnæ. Aderat clauda haec,\r
+ Ast erat ampla gradû. 1525."\r
+\r
+ "Live, drink, be merry, remembering\r
+ This Faust and his\r
+ Punishment. It came slowly\r
+ But was in ample measure."]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 21:_Frosch, Brander_, &c. These names seem to be chosen with an\r
+eye to adaptation, Frosch meaning frog, and Brander fireship. "Frog"\r
+happens also to be the nickname the students give to a pupil of the\r
+gymnasium, or school preparatory to the university.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 22: Rippach is a village near Leipsic, and Mr. Hans was a\r
+fictitious personage about whom the students used to quiz greenhorns.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 23: The original means literally _sea-cat_. Retzsch says, it is\r
+the little ring-tailed monkey.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 24: One-time-one, _i.e._ multiplication-table.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 25: "Hand and glove." The translator's coincidence with Miss\r
+Swanwick here was entirely accidental. The German is "thou and thou,"\r
+alluding to the fact that intimate friends among the Germans, like the\r
+sect of Friends, call each other _thou_.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 26: The following is a literal translation of the song referred\r
+to:--\r
+\r
+ Were I a little bird,\r
+ Had I two wings of mine,\r
+ I'd fly to my dear;\r
+ But that can never be,\r
+ So I stay here.\r
+\r
+ Though I am far from thee,\r
+ Sleeping I'm near to thee,\r
+ Talk with my dear;\r
+ When I awake again,\r
+ I am alone.\r
+\r
+ Scarce is there an hour in the night,\r
+ When sleep does not take its flight,\r
+ And I think of thee,\r
+ How many thousand times\r
+ Thou gav'st thy heart to me.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 27: Donjon. The original is _Zwinger_, which Hayward says is\r
+untranslatable. It probably means an old tower, such as is often found in\r
+the free cities, where, in a dark passage-way, a lamp is sometimes placed,\r
+and a devotional image near it.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 28: It was a superstitious belief that the presence of buried\r
+treasure was indicated by a blue flame.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 29: Lion-dollars--a Bohemian coin, first minted three centuries\r
+ago, by Count Schlick, from the mines of Joachim's-Thal. The one side\r
+bears a lion, the other a full length image of St. John.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 30: An imitation of Ophelia's song: _Hamlet_, act 14, scene 5.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 31: The Rat-catcher was supposed to have the art of drawing rats\r
+after him by his whistle, like a sort of Orpheus.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 32: Walpurgis Night. May-night. Walpurgis is the female saint\r
+who converted the Saxons to Christianity.--The Brocken or Blocksberg is\r
+the highest peak of the Harz mountains, which comprise about 1350 square\r
+miles.--Schirke and Elend are two villages in the neighborhood.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 33: Shelley's translation of this couplet is very fine:\r
+("_O si sic omnia!_")\r
+\r
+ "The giant-snouted crags, ho! ho!\r
+ How they snort and how they blow!"]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 34: The original is _Windsbraut_, (wind's-bride,) the word used\r
+in Luther's Bible to translate Paul's _Euroclydon_.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 35: One of the names of the devil in Germany.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 36: One of the names of Beelzebub.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 37: "The Talmudists say that Adam had a wife called Lilis before\r
+he married Eve, and of her he begat nothing but devils."\r
+ _Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy_.\r
+\r
+A learned writer says that _Lullaby_ is derived from "Lilla, abi!" "Begone\r
+Lilleth!" she having been supposed to lie in wait for children to kill\r
+them.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 38: This name, derived from two Greek words meaning _rump_ and\r
+_fancy_, was meant for Nicolai of Berlin, a great hater of Goethe's\r
+writings, and is explained by the fact that the man had for a long time a\r
+violent affection of the nerves, and by the application he made of leeches\r
+as a remedy, (alluded to by Mephistopheles.)]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 39: Tegel (mistranslated _pond_ by Shelley) is a small place a\r
+few miles from Berlin, whose inhabitants were, in 1799, hoaxed by a ghost\r
+story, of which the scene was laid in the former place.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 40: The park in Vienna.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 41: He was scene-painter to the Weimar theatre.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 42: A poem of Schiller's, which gave great offence to the\r
+religious people of his day.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 43: A literal translation of _Maulen_, but a slang-term in\r
+Yankee land.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 44: Epigrams, published from time to time by Goethe and Schiller\r
+jointly. Hennings (whose name heads the next quatrain) was editor of the\r
+_Musaget_, (a title of Apollo, "leader of the muses,") and also of the\r
+_Genius of the Age_. The other satirical allusions to classes of\r
+notabilities will, without difficulty, be guessed out by the readers.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 45: "_Doubt_ is the only rhyme for devil," in German.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 46: The French translator, Stapfer, assigns as the probable\r
+reason why this scene alone, of the whole drama, should have been left in\r
+prose, "that it might not be said that Faust wanted any one of the\r
+possible forms of style."]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 47: Literally the _raven-stone_.]\r
+\r
+[Footnote 48: The _blood-seat_, in allusion to the old German custom of\r
+tying a woman, who was to be beheaded, into a wooden chair.]\r
+\r
+ * * * * *\r
+\r
+P. S. There is a passage on page 84, the speech of Faust, ending with the\r
+lines:--\r
+\r
+ Show me the fruit that, ere it's plucked, will rot,\r
+ And trees from which new green is daily peeping,\r
+\r
+which seems to have puzzled or misled so much, not only English\r
+translators, but even German critics, that the present translator has\r
+concluded, for once, to depart from his usual course, and play the\r
+commentator, by giving his idea of Goethe's meaning, which is this: Faust\r
+admits that the devil has all the different kinds of Sodom-apples which he\r
+has just enumerated, gold that melts away in the hand, glory that vanishes\r
+like a meteor, and pleasure that perishes in the possession. But all these\r
+torments are too insipid for Faust's morbid and mad hankering after the\r
+luxury of spiritual pain. Show me, he says, the fruit that rots _before_\r
+one can pluck it, and [a still stronger expression of his diseased craving\r
+for agony] trees that fade so quickly as to be every day just putting\r
+forth new green, only to tantalize one with perpetual promise and\r
+perpetual disappointment.\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+\r
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Faust, by Goethe\r
+\r
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