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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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