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