v.1-2 Faust ,1 3 1924 026 304 364 ' CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY -If,.'''.,!' ,i' GIFT Cfr The Estate Of: All books are subject to recall after two weeks Ollri/Kroch Library DATE DUE m=^ noT t - NLh n/,^4^ )> " - ( \ GAYLORD PRINTED IN U.S.A. ! The original of tlnis bool< is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924026304364 FAUST A m AGS BY BY JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE TRANSLATED, IN THE ORIGINAL METRES, By BAYARD TAYLOR TWO VOLUMES IN ONE VOL. I. Wer die Dichtkunst will verstehen. Muss ins Land der Dichtung gehen : Wer den Dichter will verstehen, KTuss iu Dichters Lande gehen. Goethe BOSTON HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY New York: 11 East Seventeenih Street 1887 PT V- t SSI Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, BY BAYARD TAYLOR, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. } \ Q -f /O' I i^ J \ PREFACE. IT is twenty years since I first determined to attempt the translation of Faust, in the origi- nal metres. At that time, although more than a score of English translations of the First Part, and three or four of the Second Part, were in ex- istence, the experiment had not yet been made. The prose version of Hayward seemed to have been accepted as the standard, in default of any- thing more satisfactory : the English critics, gener- ally sustaining the translator in his views concern- ing the secondary importance of form in Poetry, ■practically discouraged any further attempt ; and no one, familiar with rhythmical expression through the needs of his own nature, had devoted the ne- cessary love and patience to an adequate repro- duction of the great work of Goethe's life. Mr. Brooks was the first to undertake the task, and the publication of his translation of the First Part (in 1856) induced me, for a time, to give up my own design. No previous English version ex- iv FAUST. hibited such abnegation of the translator's own tastes and habits of thought, such reverent desire to present the original in its purest form. The care and conscience with which the work had been performed were so apparent, that I now state with 'reluctance what then seemed to me to be its only deficiencies, — a lack of the lyrical fire and flu- ency of the original in some passages, and an occasional lowering of the tone through the use of words which are literal, but not equivalent. The plan of translation adopted by Mr. Brooks was so entirely my own, that when further resi- dence in Germany and a more careful study of both parts of Faust had satisfied me that the field was still open, — that the means furnished by the poetical affinity of the two languages had not yet been exhausted, — nothing remained for me but to follow him in all essential particulars. His exam- ple confirmed me in the belief that there were fe* difficulties in the way of a nearly literal yet thor- oughly rhythmical version of Faust, which might not be overcome by loving labor. A comparison of seventeen English translations, in the arbitrary metres adopted by the translators, sufficiently showed the danger of allowing license in this respect : the white light of Goethe's thought was thereby passed through the tinted glass of other minds, and assumed the coloring of each. More- over, the plea of selecting different metres in tlie hope of producing a similar effect is unreasonable, where the identical metres are possible. PREFACE. V The value of form, in a poetical work, is the V first question to be considered. No poet ever understood this question more thoroughly than Goethe himself, or expressed a more positive opin- ion in regard to it. The alternative modes of translation which he presents (reported by Riemer, quoted by Mrs. Austin, in her "Characteristics of Goethe," and accepted by Mr. Hayward),* are quite independent of his views concerning the value of form, which we find given elsewhere, in the clearest and most emphatic manner.f Poetry * " ' There are two maxims of translation,' says he : ' the one requires that the -author, of a foreign nation, be brought to us in such a manner that we may regard him as our own ; the other, on the contrary, demands of- us that we transport ourselves over to him, and adopt his situation, his mode of speaking, and his pecuharities. The advantages of both are sufficiently known to all instructed persons, from masterly examples.' " Is it necessary, however, that there should always be this alternative ? Where the languages are kindred, and equally capable of all varieties of metrical expression, may not both these " maxims " be observed in the same translation ? Goethe, it is true, was of the opinion that Faust ought to be given, in French, in the manner of Clement Marot ; but this was undoubtedly because he felt the inadequacy of modern French to express the naive, simple realism of many pas- sages. The same objection does not apply to English There are a few archaic expressions in Faust, but no more than are still allowed — nay, frequently encouraged — in the English of our day. t " You are right," said Goethe ; " there are great and mysterious, agencies' included- in the various forms of Poetry If the substance of my 'Roman Elegies' were to be ex- vi FAUST. is not simply a fashion of expression : it is the form of expression absolutely required by a cer- tain class of ideas. Poetry, indeed, may be dis- tinguished from Prose by the single circumstance, that it is the utterance of whatever in man cannot be perfectly uttered in any other than a rhythmical form : it is useless to say that the naked meaning is independent of the form : on the contrary, the form contributes essentially to the fulness of the meaning. In Poetry which endures through its own inherent vitality, there is no forced union of these pressed in the tone and measure of Byron's ' Don Juan,' it would really have an atrocious effect." — Eckermann. " The rhythm," said Goethe, " is an unconscious result of the poetic mood. If one should stop to consider it mechan- ically, when about to write a poem, one would become be- wildered and accomplish nothing of real poetical value." — Ibid. "All that is poetic in character should be rhythmically treated ! Such is my conviction ; and if even a sort of poetic prose should be gradually introduced, it would only show that the distinction between prose and poetry had been completely lost sight of." — Goethe to Schiller, 1797. Tycho Mommsen, in his excellent essay, Die Kunst dcs Deutschen Uebersetzers aus neueren Sprachen, goes so far as to say : " The metrical or rhymed modelling of a poetical work is so essentially the germ of its being, that, rather than by giving it up, we might hope to construct a similar work of art before the eyes of our countrymen, by giving up or changing the substance. The immeasurable result which has followed works wherein the form has been retained such as the Homer of Voss, and the Shakespeare of Tieck and Schlegel — is an incontrovertible evidence of the vital- ity of the endeavor." PREFACE. vii two elements. They are as intimately blended, and with the same mysterious beauty, as the sexes in the ancient Hermaphroditus. To attempt to represent Poetry in Prose, is very much like at- tempting to translate music into speech* The various theories of translation from the Greekand Latin poets have been admirably stated by Dryden in his Preface to the " Translations from Ovid's Epistles," and I do not wish to con- tinue the endless discussion, ^- especially as our literature needs examples, not opinions. A recent expression, however, carries with it so much au- thority, that I feel bound to present some consid- erations which the accomplished scholar seems to have overlooked. Mr. Lewes t justly says : " The effect of poetry is a compound of music and sug- gestion ; this music and this suggestion are inter- mingled in words, which to alter is to alter the effect. For words in poetry are not, as in prose, simple representatives of objects and ideas : they are parts of an organic whole, — they are tones in the harmony." He thereupon illustrates the effect of translation by changing certain well-known English stanzas into others, equivalent in meaning, but lacking their felicity of words, their grace and melody. I cannot accept this illustration as valid, because Mr. Lewes purposely omits the very qual- * " Goethe's poems exercise a great sway over me, not jnly by their meaning, but also by their rhythm. It is a lan- guage which stimulates me to composition." — Beethoven. \ Life of Goethe (Book VI.). viii FAUST. ity which an honest translator should exhaust his skill in endeavoring to reproduce. He turns away from the one best word or phrase in the English lines he quotes, whereas the translator seeks precisely that one best word or phrase (having all the re- sources of his language at command), to represent what is said in another language. More than this, his task is not siinply mechanical : he must feel, and be guided by, a secondary inspiration. Sur- rendering himself to the full possession of the spirit which shall speak through him, he receives, | also, a portion of the same creative power. Mr. Lewes reaches this conclusion : " If, therefore, we reflect what a poem Faust is, and that it contains almost every variety of style and metre, it will be , tolerably evident that no one unacquainted with | the original can form an adequate idea of it from translation,"* which is certainly correct of any translation wherein something of the rhythmical variety and beauty of the original is not retained. That very much of- the rhythmical character may be retained in English, was long ago shown by Mr. Carlyle,t in the passages which he translated, * Mr. Lewes gives the following advice: "The English reader would perhaps best succeed who should first read Dr. Anster's brilliant paraphrase, and then carefully go through Hayward's prose translation." This is singularly at variance with the view he has just expressed. Dr. Anster's version is an almost incredible dilution of the original, written in other metres ; while Hayward's entirely omits the element of poetry. t Foreign Review, 1828. | PREFACE. ix both literally and rhythmically, from the Helena (Part Second). In fact, we have so many in- stances of the possibility of reciprocally transfer- ring the finest qualities of English and German poetry, that there is no sufficient excuse for an unmetrical translation of Faust. I refer especially to such subtile and melodious lyrics as " The Cas- tle by the Sea," of Uhland, and the " Silent Land " of Salis, translated by Mr. Longfellow ; Goethe's " Minstrel " and " Coptic Song," by Dr. Hedge ; Heine's " Two Grenadiers,'' by Dr. Furness, and many of Heine's songs, by Mr. Leland ; and also to the German translations of English lyrics, by Freiligrath and Strodtmann.* I have a more serious objection, however, to urge against Mr. Hayward's prose translation. * When Freiligrath can thus give us Walter Scott : — " Kommt, wie4er Wind kommt, Wenn Walder erzittern I Kommt, wie die Brandung Wenn Flotten zersplittern I Schnell lieran, schnell herab, Schneller kommt Alle ! -^ Hauptling und Bub' und Knapp, Herr und Vasalle ! *' or Strodtmann thus reproduce Tennyson : — " Es fallt der Strahl auf Burg und Tlial, Und sclmeeige Gipfel, reich an Sagen : VieP Lichlerwehn aufblauen Seen, Bergab die Wassersturze jagen ! Bias, Huftliorn, bias, in Wiederhall erschallend : Bias, Horn — antwortet, Echos, hallend, hallend, hallend I " — it must be a dull ear which w.ould be satisfied with the omission of rhythm and rhyme. X FAUST. Where all the restraints of verse are flung aside, we should expect, at least, as accurate a reproduc- tion of the sense, spirit, and tone of the original, as the genius of our language will permit. So far from having given us such a reproduction, Mr. Hayward not only occasionally mistakes the exact meaning of the German text,* but, wherever two phrases may be used to express the meaning with equal fidelity, he very frequently selects that which has the less grace, strength, or beauty.t For there are few things which may not be said, in English, in a twofold manner, — one poetic, and the other prosaic. In German, equally, a word which in * On his second page, the line Mein Lied ertSnt der un- hekannten Menge, " My song sounds to the unknown multi- tude," is translated : " My sorrow voices itself to the strange throng." Other English translators, I notice, have followed Mr. Hayward in mistaking Lied for Leid. t I take but one out of numerous instances, for the sake of illustration. The close of the Soldier's Song (Part I. Scene II.) is : — " Kiihn is das Miihen, Herrlich der Lohn I Und die Soldaten Ziehen davon." Literally : Bold is the endeavor, Splendid the pay I And the soldiers March away. This Mr. Hayward translates : — Bold the adventure, Noble the reward — And the soldiers Are off. PREFACE. xi ordinary use has a bare prosaic character may receive a fairer and finer quality from its place in verse. The prose translator should certainly be able to feel the manifestation of this law in both languages, and should so choose his words as to meet their reciprocal requirements. A man, how- ever, who is not keenly sensible to the power and beauty and value of rhythm, is likely to overlook these delicate yet most necessary distinctions. The author's thought is stripped of a last grace in passing through his mind, and frequently presents very much the same resemblance to the original as an unhewn shaft to the fluted column. Mr. Hay- ward unconsciously illustrates his lack of a refined appreciation of verse, " in giving," as he says, " a sort of rhythmical arrangement to the lyrical parts," his object being " to convey some notion of the variety of versification which forms one great charm of the poem." A literal translation is al- ways possible in the unrhymed passages \ but even here Mr. Hayward's ear did not dictate to him the necessity of preserving the original rhythm. While, therefore, I heartily recognize his lofty appreciation of Faust, — while I honor him for the patient and conscientious labor he has bestowed upon his translation, — I cannot but feel that he has himself illustrated the unsoundness of his ar- gument. Nevertheless, the circumstance that his prose translation of Faust has received so much acceptance proves those qualities of the original work which cannot be destroyed by a test so vio- xii FAUST. lent. From the cold bare outline thus produced, the reader unacquainted with the German language would scarcely guess what glow of color, what rich- ness of changeful life, what fluent grace and energy of movement have been lost in the process. We must, of course, gratefully receive such an outiine, where a nearer approach to the form of the origi- nal is impossible, but, until the latter has been demonstrated, we are wrong to remain content with the cheaper substitute. It seems to me that in all discussions upon this subject the capacities of the English language have received but scanty justice. The intellectual tendencies of our race have always been somewhat conservative, and its standards of literary taste or belief, once set up, are not varied without a struggle. The English ear is suspicious of new metres and unaccustomed- forms of expression : there are critical detectives on the track of every author, and a violation of the accepted canons is followed by a summons to judgment. Thus the tendency is to contract rather than to expand the acknowledged excellences of the language.* The * I cannot resist the temptation of quoting the following passage from Jacob Grimm : " No one of all the' modern languages has acquired a greater force and strength than the English, through the derangement and relinquishment of its ancient laws of sound. The unteachable (nevertheless learn- able) profusion of its middle-tones has conferred upon it an intrinsic power Of expression, such as no other human tongue ever possessed. Its entire, thoroughly intellectual and won- derfully successful foundation and perfected development PREFACE. xiii difficulties in the way of a nearly literal translation of Faust in the original metres have been exagger- ated, because certain affinities between the two languages have not been properly considered. With all the splendor of versification in the work, it contains but few metres of which the English tongue is not equally capable. Hood has famil- iarized us with dactylic (triple) rhymes, and they are remarkably abundant and skilful in Mr. Low- ell's " Fable for the Critics " : even the un'rhymed iambic hexameter of the Helena occurs now and then in Milton's Samso?i Agonistes. It is true that the metrical foot into which the German language most naturally falls is the trochaic, while in English it is the iambic : it is true that German is rich, involved, and tolerant of new coftibinations, while issued from a marvellous union of the two noblest, tongues of Europe, the Germanic and the Romanic. Their mutual relation in the English language is well known, since the former furnished chiefly the material basis, while the latter added the intellectual conceptions. The English language, by and through which the greatest and most eminent poet of modern times — as contrasted with ancient classical poetry — (of course I can refer only to Shakespeare) was liegotten and nourished, has a just claim to be called a lan- guage of the world; and it appears to be destined, like the . English race, to a higher and broader sway in all quarters of the earth. For in richness, in compact adjustment of parts, and in pure intelligence, none of the living languages can be compared with it, — not even our German, which is divided even as we are divided, and which must cast off many imperfections before it can boldly enter on its career." — Ueber deti Ursprung der Sprache. xiv FAUST. English is simple, direct, and rather shy of com- pounds ; but precisely these differences are so modified in the German of Faust that there is a mutual approach of the two languages. In Faust, \ the iambic measure predominates ; the style is compact; the many licenses which the author allows himself are all directed towards a shorter mode of construction. On the other hand, Eng- lish metre compels the use of inversions, admits many verbal liberties prohibited to prose, and so inclines towards various flexible features of its sister-tongue that many lines of Faust may be repeated in English without the slightest change of meaning, measure, or rhyme. There are words, it is true, with so delicate a bloom upon them that it can in no wise be preserved ; but even such words will always lose less when they carry with them their rhythmical atmosphere. The flow of Goethe's verse is sometimes so similar to that of the corresponding English metre, that not only its harmonies and caesural pauses, but even its punc- tuation, may be easily retained. I am satisfied that the difference between a translation of Faust in prose or metre is chiefly one of labor, — and of that labor which is success- ful in proportion as it is joyously performed. My own task has been cheered by the discovery, that the more closely I reproduced the language of the original, the, more of its rhythmical character was transferred at the same time. If, now and then, there was an inevitable alternative of meaning or PREFACE. XV music, I gave the preference to the former. By the term " original metres " I do not mean a rigid, unyielding adherence to every foot, Hne, and rhyme of the German original, although this has very nearly been accomplished. Since the greater part of the work is written in an irregular measure, the lines varying from three to six feet, and the 1 rhymes arranged according to the author's will, I ' do not consider that an occasional chaege in the number of feet, or order of rhyme, is any violation of the metrical plan. The single slight liberty I have taken with the lyrical passages is in Marga- ret's song, — " The King of Thule,'' — in which, by omitting the alternate feminine rhymes, yet re- taining the metre, I was enabled to make the trans- lation strictly literal. If, in two or three instances, I have left a line unrhymed, I have balanced the omission by giving rhymes to other lines which stand unrhymed in the original text. For the same reason, I make no apology for the imperfect rhymes, which are frequently a translation as well as a necessity. With all its supreme qualities, Faust is far from being a technically perfect work.* V * " At present, everything runs in technical grooves, and the critical gentlemen begin to wrangle whether in a rhyme an J should correspond with an j and not with sz. If I were young and reckless enough, I would purposely offend all such technical caprices : I would use alliteration, assonance, false rhyme, just according to my own will or convenience — but, at the same time, I would attend to the main thing, and \ / endeavor to say so many good things that every one would be attracted to read and remember them.'' — Goethe, in 1831. xvi FAUST. The feminine and dactylic rhymes, which have been for the most part omitted by all metrical translators except Mr. Brooks, are indispensable. The characteristic tone of many passages would be nearly lost, without them. They give spirit and grace to the dialogue, point to the aphoristic porJ tions (especially in the Second Part), and an ever- changing music to the lyrical passages, 'i'he English language, though not so rich as the German in such rhymes, is less deficient than is generally supposed. The difficulty to be 6ver- come is- one of construction rather than of the vocabulary. The present participle can only be used to a limited extent, on account of its weak termination, and the want of an accusative form to the noun also restricts the arrangement of words in English verse. I cannot hope to have been always successful ; but I have at least la- bored long and patiently, bearing constantly in mind not only the meaning of the original and the mechanical structure of the lines, but also that subtile and haunting music which seems to govern rhythm instead of being governed by it. The Second Part of Faust has been translated five times into English (by Birch, Bernays, Mac- donald, Archer Gurney, and Anster), but not one of the versions has ever been published in the United States. Inasmuch as this part was in- cluded in Goethe's original design, the First Part, although apparently complete as a tragic episode, is in. reality but a fragment, wherein the deeper PREFACE. xvii problems upon which the work is based are left unsolved. I consider, therefore, that the Second Part is necessary (as necessary, indeed, as the Paradiso to the Divina Commedia of Dante) ; and my aim, in the second volume of this translation, will be to make that necessity clear, alike to the English reader and to those who follow various German and English critics in disparaging the original. CONTENTS. Pagh An Goethe xxi Dedication i Prelude on the Stage 3 Prologue in Heaven . . . ... Scene I. Night {Faust's Monologue) II. Before the City-Gate in. The Study (The Exorcism) IV. The Study ( The Compact) V. Auerbach's Cellar VI. Witches' Kitchen VII. A Street. VIII Evening IX. Promenade X. The Neighbor's House XI. Street .... XII. Garden XIII. A Garden-Arbor XIV. Forest and Cavern II 17 34 49 62 84 100 "3 117 123 126 13s 138 146 148 XX CONTENTS. XV. Margaret's Room 154 XVI. Martha's Garden .... 156 XVII. At the Fountain 163 XVIII. Donjon (Margarefs Prayer) . . 166 XIX. Night (Valentines Death) . . .168 XX. Cathedral 175 XXI. Walpurgis-night 178 XXII. Oberon and Titania's Golden Wed- ding 195 XXIII. Dreary Day 203 XXIV. Night 206 XXV. Dungeon 207 NOTES 217 APPENDIX. I. The Faust-Legend 337 II. Chronology of Faust .... 345 III. Scene from Marlowe's " Faustus " . . 354 AN GOETHE. "PRHABENER Geist, im Geisterreich verloren t Wo immer Deine lichte WohnuT^g sey, Zum hoKren Schaffen bist Du neugeboren, Und singest dort die voWre Litanei. Vonjenem Streben das Dii aiiserkoren, Vom reinsten jEther, drin Du athmest frei, O neige Dich zu gnddigem Erwiedern Des letzten Wiederhalls von Deinen Liedern ! n. Den alien Musen die bestaubten Kronen Nahmst Du, zu neuetn Glanz, mit kUhner Hand : Du lost die Rathsel dltester ^onen Durch jiingeren Glauben, heller en Ver stand. AN GOETHE. Und machst, wo rege Menschengeister wohnen, Die game Erde Dir zum Vaterland; Und Deine Jiinger sehn in Dir, verwundert, VerkSrpert schon das werdende Jahrhundert. III. Was Du gesungen, A Her Lust und Klagen, Des Lebens Wiederspruche, neu vermdhlt, — Die Harfe tausendstimmig frisch geschlagen. Die Shakspeare einst, die einst Homer gewdhlt, — Darfich infremde Kldnge iibertragen Das A lies, wo so Mancher schon gefehlt ? Lass Deinen Geist in meiner Stimme klingen, Und was Du sangst, lass mich es Dir nachsingen.' B. T. dedication; AGAIN ye come, ye hovering Forms ! I find ye, As early to my clouded sight ye shone ! Sha'il I attempt, this once, to seize and bind ye ? Still o'er my heart is that illusion throwi*? Ye crowd more near ! Then, be the reign assigned ye, And sway me from your misty, shadowy zone ! My bosom thrills, with youthful passion shaken. From magic airs that round your march awaken. Of joyous days ye bring the blissful vision ; The dear, familiar phantoms rise again. And, like an old and half-extinct tradition. First Love returns, with Friendship in his train. Renewed is Pain : with mournful repetition Life tracks his devious, labyrinthine chain, And names the Good, whose cheating fortune tore them From happy hours, and left me to deplore them. They hear no longer these succeeding measures. The souls, to whom my earliest songs I sang : Dispersed the friendly troop, with all its pleasures, And still, alas ! the echoes first that rang ! VOL. I. 1 A 2 FAUST. I bring the unknown multitude my treasures ; Their very plaudits give my heart a pang, And those beside, whose joy my Song so flattered, If still they live, wide through the woj-ld are scattered. And grasps me now a long-unwonted yearning For that serene and solemn Spirit- Land : My song, to faint jEolian murmurs turning, Sways like a harp-string by the breezes fanned. I thrill and tremble ; tear on tear is burning. And the stern heart is tenderly unmanned. What I possess, I see far distant lying, And what I lost, grows real and undying. PRELUDE ON THE STAGE; Manager. Dramatic Poet. Merry-Andrew. MANAGER. You two, who oft a helping hand Have lent, in need and tribulation, Come, let me know your expectation Of this, our enterprise, in German land! I wish the crowd to feel itself well treated, Especially since it lives and lets me live ; The posts are set, the booth of boards completed,' And each awaits the banquet I shall give. Already there, with curious eyebrows raised, They sit sedate, and hope to be amazed. I know how one the People's taste may flatter. Yet here a huge embarrassment I feel : What they 're accustomed to, is no great matter, But then, alas ! they 've read an awful deal. How shall we plan, that all be fresh and new, —^ Important matter, yet attractive too? For 't is my pleasure to behold them surging. When to our booth the current sets apace. And with tremendous, oft-repeated urging. Squeeze onward through the narrow gate of grace : By daylight even, they push and cram in 4 FAUST. To reach the seller's box, a fighting host, And as for bread, around a baker's door, in fanaine, To get a ticket break their necks almost. This miracle alone can work the Poet On men so various : now, my friend, pray show it. POET. Speak not to me of yonder motley masses, Whom but to see, puts out the fire of Song ! Hide from my view the surging crowd that passes, And in its whirlpool forces us along ! No, lead me where some heavenly silence glasses The purer joys that round the Poet throng, — Where Love and Friendship still divinely fashion The bonds that bless, the wreaths that crown his passion! Ah, every utterance from the depths of feeling The timid lips have stammeringly expressed, — Now failing, now, perchance, success revealing, — Gulps the wild Moment in its greedy breast ; Or 6ft, reluctant years its warrant sealing. Its perfect stature stands at last confessed ! What dazzles, for the Moment spends its spirit : What 's genuine, shall Posterity inherit. MERRY-ANDREW. Posterity ! Don't name the word to me ! If / should choose to preach Posterity, Where would you get cotemporary fun ? That men will have it, there 's no blinking : A fine young fellow's presence, to my thinking. Is something worth, to every one. Who genially his nature can outpour, Takes from the People's moods no irritation ; The wider circle he acquires, the more PRELUDE. 5 Securely works his inspiration. Then pluck up heart, and give us sterling coin ! Let Fancy be with her attendants fitted, — Sense, Reason, Sentiment, and Passion join, — But have a care, lest Folly be omitted ! MANAGER. Chiefly, enough of incident prepare ! They come to look, and they prefer to stare.* Reel off a host of threads before their faces, So that they gape in stupid wonder : then By sheer diffuseness you have won their graces, And are, at once, most popular of men. Only by mass you touch the mass ; for any Will finally, himself, his bit select : Who offers touch, brings something unto many,s And each goes home content with the effect. If you Ve a piece, why, just in pieces give it : A hash, a stew, will bring success, believe it ! 'T is easily displayed, and easy to invent. What use, a Whole compactly to present ? Your hearers pick and pluck, as soon as they receive it ! POET. You do not feel, how such a trade debases ; How ill it suits the Artist, proud and true ! The botching work each fine pretender traces Is, I perceive, a principle with you. MANAGER. Such a reproach not in the least offends ; A man who some result intends Must use the tools that best are fitting. Reflect, soft wood is given to you for splitting, And then, observe for whom you write ! 6 FAUST. If one comes bored, exhausted quite, Another, satiate, leaves the banquet's tapers, And, worst of all, full many a wight Is fresh from reading of the daily papers. Idly to us they come, as to a masquerade, Mere curiosity their spirits warming : The ladies with themselves, and with their finery, aid. Without a salary their parts performing. What dreams are yours in high poetic places ? You 're pleased, forsooth, full houses to behold ? Draw near, and view your patrons' faces ! The half are coarse, the half are cold. One, when the play is out, goes home to cards ; A wild night on a -wrench's breast another chooses : Why should you rack, poQr, foolish bards. For ends like these, the gracious Muses ? I tell you, give but more — more, ever more, they ask : Thus shall you hit the mark of gain and glory. Seek to confound your auditory ! To satisfy them is a task. — What ails you now? Is 't suffering, or pleasure? POET. Go, find yourself a more obedient slave ! What ! shall the Poet that which Nature gave, I The highest right, supreme Humanity, ; Forfeit so wantonly, to swell your treasure ? Whence o'er the heart his empire free ? The elements of Life how conquers he ? Is 't not his heart's accord, urged outward far and dim, To wind the world in unison with him ? When on the spindle, spun to endless distance, By Nature's listless hand the thread is twirled, And the discordant tones of all existence In sullen jangle are together hurled, PRELODE. 7 Who, then, the changeless orders of creation Divides, and kindles into rhythmic dance ? Who brings the One to join the general ordination, Where it may throb in grandest consonance ? Who bids the storm to passion stir the bosom ? In brooding souls the sunset burn above ? Who scatters every fairest April blossom Along the shining path of Love ? Who braids the noteless leaves to crowns, requiting Desert with fame, in Action's every field ? Who makes Olympus sure, the Gods uniting ? The might of Man, as in the Bard revealed. MERRY-ANDREW. So, these fine forces, in conjunction, Propel the high poetic function. As in a love-adventure they might play \, You meet by accident ; you feel, you stay. And by degrees your heart is tangled ; Bliss grows apace, and then its course is jangled ; You 're ravished quite, then comes a touch of woe, And there 'S a neat romance, completed ere you know ! Let us, then, such a drama give ! Grasp the exhaustless life that all men live ! Each shares therein, though few may comprehend : Where'er you touch, there 's interest without end. In motley pictures little light, Much error, and of truth a glimmering mite. Thus the best beverage is supplied. Whence all the world is cheered and edified. Then, at your play, behold the fairest flower Of youth collect, to hear the revelation ! Each tender soul, with sentimental power. Sucks melancholy food from your creation ; And now in this, now that, the leaven works, 8 FAUST. For each beholds what in his bosom lurks. They still are moved at once to weeping or to laughter, Still wonder at your flights, enjoy the show they see : A mind, once formed, is never suited after ; One yet in growth will ever grateful be. POET. Then give me back that time of pleasures, While yet in joyous growth I sang, — When, like a fount, the crowding measures Uninterrupted gushed and sprang ! Then bright mist veiled the world before me, In opening buds a marvel woke, As I the thousand blossoms broke. Which every valley richly bore me ! I nothing had, and yet enough for youth — Joy in Illusion, ardent thirst for Truth. Give, unrestrained, the old emotion. The bliss that touched the verge of pain. The strength of Hate, Love's deep devotion, — O, give me back my youth again ! MERRY-ANDREW. Youth, good my friend, you certainly require When foes in combat sorely press you ; When lovely maids, in fond desire. Hang on your bosom and caress you ; When from the hard-won goal the wreath Beckons afar, the race awaiting ; When, after dancing out your breath. You pass the night in dissipating : — But that familiar harp with soul To play, — with grace and bold expression. And towards a self-erected goal To walk with many a sweet digression, PRELUDE. I This, aged Sirs, belongs to you,' And we no less revere you for that reason : Age childish makes, they say, but 't is not true ; We 're only genuine children still, in Age's season ! MANAGER. The words you 've bandied are sufficient ; 'T is deeds that I prefer to see : In compliments you 're both proficient, But might, the while, more useful be. What need to talk of Inspiration ? 'T is no companion of Delay. If Poetry be your vocation. Let Poetry your will obey ! Full well you know what here is wanting ; The crowd for strongest drink is panting. And such, forthwith, I 'd have you br^y. What 's left undone to-day. To-morrow will not do. Waste not a day in vain digression : With resolute, courageous trust Seize every possible impression. And make it firmly your possession : You 'U then work on, because you must. Upon our German stage, you know it. Each tries his hand at what he will ; So, take of traps and scenes your fill, And all you find, be sure to show it ! Use both the great and lesser heavenly light, — Squander the stars in any number. Beasts, birds, trees, rocks, and all such lumber, Fire, water, darkness, Day and Night ! Thus, in our booth's contracted sphere, The circle of Creation will appear, And move, as we deliberately impel. From Heaven, across the World, to Hell ! ^ • 1* PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN.' The Lord. The Heavenly Hosts. After- wards Mephistopheles. {The Three Archangels come forward.) THE sun-orb sings, in emulation, 'Mid brother-spheres, his ancient round : His path predestined through Creation He ends with step of thunder-sound. The angels from his visage splendid Draw power, whose measure none can say ; The lofty works, uncomprehended, Are bright as on the earliest day. GABRIEL. And swift, and swift beyond conceiving, The splendor of the world goes round. Day's Eden-brightness still relieving The awful Night's intense profound : The ocean-tides in foam are breaking, Against the rocks' deep bases hurled, And both, the spheric race partaking, Eternal, swift, are onward whirled ! FAUST. 12 MICHAEL. And rival storms abroad are surging From sea to land, from land to sea. A chain of deepest action forging Round all, in wrathful energy. There flames a desolation, blazing Before the Thunder's crashing way : Yet, Lord, Thy messengers are praising The gentle movement of Thy Day. THE THREE. Though still by them uncomprehended, From these the angels draw their power, And all Thy works, sublime and splendid, Are bright as in Creation's hour.' MEPHISTOPHELES. Since Thou, O Lord, deign'st to approach again And ask us how we do, in manner kindest, And heretofore to meet myself wert fain, Among Thy menials, now, my face Thou findest. Pardon, this troop I cannot follow after" With lofty speech, though by them scorned and spurned: My pathos certainly would move Thy laughter, If Thou hadst not all merriment unlearned. Of suns and worlds I 've nothing to be quoted ; How men torment themselves, is all I 've noted. The little god o' the world sticks to the same old way. And is as whimsical as on Creation's day. Life somewhat better might content him, But for the gleam of heavenly light which Thou hast lent him : He calls it Reason — thence his power 's increased, To be far beastlier than any beast. Saving Thy Gracious Presence, he to me PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. 13 A long-legged grasshopper appears to be, That springing flies, and flying springs. And in the grass the same old ditty sings. Would he still lay among the grass he grows in ! Each bit of dung he seeks, to stick his nose in. THE LORD. Hast thou, then, nothing more to mention ? Com'st ever, thus, with ill intention ? Find'st nothing right on earth, eternally ? MEPHISTOPHELES. No, Lord ! I find things, there, still bad as they can be. Man's misery even to pity moves my nature ; I 've scarce the heart to plague the wretched creature. THE LORD. Know'st Faust? » MEPHISTOPHELES. The Doctor Faust? THE LORD. My servant, he ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Forsooth ! He serves you after strange devices : No earthly meat or drink the fool suffices : His spirit's ferment far aspireth ; Half conscious of his frenzied, crazed unrest, The fairest stars from Heaven he requireth. From Earth the highest raptures and the best. And all the Near and Far that he desireth Fails to subdue the tumult of his breast. THE LORD. Though still confused his service unto Me, ~ ' I soon shall lead him to a clearer morning. .. FAUST. 14 Sees not the gardener, even while buds his tree, Both flower and fruit the future years adorning ? MEPHISTOPHELES. i What will you bet ? There 's still a chance to gain him, If unto me full leave you give, Gently upon my road to train him ! THE LORD. As long as he on earth shall live, So long I make no prohibition. / While Man's desires and aspirations slir, \ He cannot choose but err." MEPHISTOPHELES. My thanks ! I find the dead no acquisition, And never cared to have them in my keeping. I much prefer the cheeks where ruddy blood is leaping, And when a corpse approaches, close my house : It goes with me, as with the cat the mouse. THE LORD. Enough ! What thou hast asked is granted. Turn off this spirit from his fountain-head ; To trap him, let thy snares be planted, And him, with thee, be downward led ; Then stand abashed, when thou art forced to Bay : A good man, through obscurest aspiration. Has still an instinct of the one true way." MEPHISTOPHELES. Agreed ! But 't is a short probation. About my bet I feel no trepidation. If I fulfil my expectation. You 'U let me triumph with a swelling breast : PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. IS Dust shall he eat, and with a zest, As did a certain snake, my near relation. THE LORD. Therein thou 'rt free, according to thy merits ; The like of thee have never moved My hate. Of all the bold, denying Spirits, The waggish knave least trouble doth create. Man's active nature, flagging, seeks too soon the level ; Unqualified repose he learns to crave ; Whence, wilUngly, the comrade him I gave. Who works, excites, and must create, as Devil. But ye, God's sons in love and duty,'^ Enjoy the rich, the ever-living Beauty ! Creative Power, that works eternal schemes, Clasp you in bonds of love, relaxing never. And what in wavering apparition gleams Fix in its place with thoughts that stand forever ! {^Heaven closes : the Archangels separate.) MEPHISTOPHELES {solus). I like, at times, to hear The Ancient's word, And have a care to be most civil : It 's really kind of such a noble Lord So humanly to gossip with the Devil ! FIRST PART .OF THE TRAGEDY. NIGHT. [A lofty-arched, narrow, Gothic chamber. Faust, in a chair at his desk, restless^ FAUST.'* • T 'VE studied now Philosophy -L And JryisprudeffCe^Medicine, — And even, alas ! Theology, — From end to end, with labor keen ; And here, poor fool ! with all my lore I stand, no wiser than before : I 'm Magister — yea. Doctor — hight. And straight or cross-wise, wrong or right, These ten years long, with many woes, I 've led my scholars by the nose, — And see, that nothing can be known ! That knowledge cuts me to the bone. I 'm cleverer, true, than those fops of teachers, Doctors and Magisters, Scribes and Preachers ; Neither scruples nor doubts come now to smite me, Nor Hell nor Devil can longer affright me. For this, all pleasure am I foregoing ; I do not pretend to aught worth knowing. 1 8 FAUST. I do not pretend I could be a teacher To help or convert a fellow-creature. Then, too, I 've neither lands nor gold, Nor the world's least pomp or honor hold — No dog would endure such a curst existence ! Wherefore, from Magic I seek assistance, That many a secret perchance I reach Through spirit-power and spirit-speech. And thus the bitter task forego Of saying the things I do not know, — • That I may detect the inmost force f Which binds the world, and guides its course; . Its germs, productive powers explore, I And rummage in empty words no more ! ~ 'O full and splendid Moon, whom I Have, from this desk, seen climb the sky So many a midnight, ^ would thy glow For the last time beheld my woe ! Ever thine eye, most mournful friend, O'er books and papers saw me bend^ But would that I, on mountains grand, Amid thy blessed light could stand, With spirits through mountain-caverns hover, Float in thy twilight the meadows over, And, freed from the fumes of lore that swathe me, To health in thy dewy fountains bathe me ! Ah, me ! this dungeon still I see. This drear, accursed masonry, ' Where even the welcome daylight strains But duskly through the painted panes. Hemmed in by many a toppling heap Of books worm-eaten, gray -with dust. Which to the vaulted ceiling creep, SCENE^ I. Against the smoky paper thrust, — With glasses, boxes, round me stacked, And instruments together hurled, Ancestral lumber, stuffed and packed — Such is my world : and what a world ! And do I ask, wherefore my heart Falters, oppressed with unknown needs ? Why some inexplicable smart All movement of my life impedes ? Alas ! in living Nature's stead. Where God His human creature set, In smoke and mould the fleshless dead And bones of beasts surround me yet ! Fly ! Up, and seek the broad, free land ! 's And this one Book of Mystery From Nostrad amus' very hand,'* Is 't not sufBcient company ? When I the starry courses know, And Nature's wise instruction seek, With hght of power my soul shall glow, As when to spirits spirits speak. 'T is vain, this empty brooding here. Though guessed the holy symbols be : Ye, Spirits, come — ye hover near — Oh, if you hear me, answer me ! \ffe opens the Book, and perceives the sign of the Macrocosm.] Ha ! what a sudden rapture leaps from this I view, through all my senses swiftly flowing ! I feel a youthful, holy, vital bliss In every vein and fibre newly glowing. Was it a God, who traced this sign, With calm across my tumult stealing, 19 20 FAUST. My troubled heart to joy unsealing. With impulse, mystic and divine, The powers of Nature here, around my path, revealing? Am I a God? — so clear mine eyes ! In these pure features I behold Creative Nature to my soul unfold. What says the sage, now first I recognize : " The spirit-world no closures fasten ; Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead : Disciple, up ! untiring, hasten To bathe thy breast in morning-red ! " {He contemplates the sign.) How each the Whole its substance gives, Each in the other works and lives ! Like heavenly forces rising and descending, Their golden urns reciprocally lending. With wings that winnow blessing From Heaven through Earth I see them pressing. Filling the All with harmony unceasing ! How grand a show ! but, ah ! a show alone. Thee, boundless Nature, how make thee my own ? Where you, ye breasts ? Founts of all Being, shining, Whereon hang Heaven's and Earth's desire. Whereto our withered hearts aspire^ — Ye flow, ye feed : and am I vainly pining? (He turns the leaves impatiently, and perceives the sign of the Earth-Spirit.)^ How otherwise upon me works this sign ! Thou, Spirit of the Earth, art nearer : Even now my powers are loftier, clearer; I glow, as drunk with new-made wine : New strength and heart to meet the world incite me, The woe of earth, the bliss of earth, invite me. SCENE I. 21 And though the shock of storms may smite me, No crash of shipwreck shall have power to fright me ! Clouds gather over me — The moon conceals her light — The lamp 's extinguished ! — Mists rise, — red, angry rays are darting Around my head ! — There falls A horror from the vaulted roof, And seizes me ! I feel thy presence. Spirit I invoke ! Reveal thyself ! Ha ! in my heart what rending stroke ! With new impulsion -=— - My senses heave in this convulsion ! I feel thee draw my heart, absorb, exhaust me : Thou must ! thou must ! and though my life it cost me ! \^He seizes the book, and mysteriously pronounces the sign of the Spirit. A ruddy flame flashes : the Spirit appears in the flame. ) SPIRIT. Who calls me ? FAUST {with averted head). Terrible to see ! SPIRIT. Me hast thou long with might attracted, Long from my sphere thy food exacted, And now — FAUST. Woe ! I endure not thee ! SPIRIT. To view me is thine aspiration. My voice to hear, my countenance to see ; 2.3 FAUST. Thy powerful yearning moveth me, Here am I ! — what mean perturbation Thee, superhuman, shakes? Thy soul's high callings where ? Where is the breast, which from itself a world did bear, And shaped and cherished — which with joy expanded To be our peer, with us, the Spirits, banded ? Where art thou, Faust, whose voice has pierced to me, Who towards me pressed with all thine energy ? He art thou, who, my presence breathing, seeing, Trembles through all the depths of being, A writhing worm, a terror-stricken form ? FAUST. Thee, form of flame, shall I then fear? Yes, I am Faust : I am thy peer ! SPIRIT. In the tides of Life, in Action's storm,'' A fluctuant wave, A shuttle free. Birth and the Grave, An eternal sea, A weaving, flowing Life, all-glowing. Thus at Time's humming loom 't is my hand prepares The garment of Life which the Deity wears ! FAUST. Thou, who around the wide world wendest. Thou busy Spirit, how near I feel to thee ! SPIRIT. Thou 'rt like the Spirit which thou comprehendest, Not me ! (Disappears. ) SCENE I. 33 FAUST (overwhehaej). Not thee ! Whom then? I, image of the Godhead ! Not even like thee ! (A knock.) Death ! — I Icnow it — 't is my Famulus ! =" My fairest luck finds no fruition : In all the fulness of my vision The soulless sneak disturbs me thus ! [Enter Wagner, in dressing-gown and night-cap, a lamp in his hand. Faust turns impatiently. ) WAGNER.^' Pardon, I heard your declamation ; 'T was sure an old Greek tragedy you read ? In such an art I crave some preparation. Since now it stands one in good stead. 1 've often heard it said, a preacher Might learni,, with a comedian for a teacher. Yes, when the priest comedian is by nature. As haply now and. then the case may be. WAGNER. Ah, when one studies thus, a prisoned creature, That scarce the world on holidays can see, — Scarce through a glass, by rare occasion. How shall. one lead it by persuasion? FAUST. You '11 ne'er attain it, save you know the feeling, Save from the soul it rises clear, Serene in primal strength, compelling '24 FAUST. The hearts and minds of all who hear. You sit forever gluing, patching ; You cook the scraps from others' fare ; And from your heap of ashes hatching A starveling flame, ye blow it bare ! Take children's, monkeys' gaze admiring, If such your taste, and be content ; But ne'er from heart to heart you '11 speak inspiring, Save your own heart is eloquent ! WAGNER. Yet through delivery orators succeed ; I feel that I am far behind, indeed. Seek thou the honest recompense ! Beware, a tinkling fool to be ! With little art, clear wit and sense Suggest their own delivery ; And if thou 'rt moved to speak in earnest, What need, that after words thou yearnest ? Yes, your discourses, with their glittering show, Where ye for men twist shredded thought like paper,'' Are unrefreshing as the winds that blow The rustling leaves through chill autumnal vapor ! WAGNER. Ah, God ! but Art is long,=3 And Life, alas ! is fleeting. And oft, with zeal my critic-duties meeting, In head and breast there 's something wrong. How hard it is to compass the assistance Whereby one rises to the source ! And, haply, ere one travels half the course Must the poor devil quit existence. SCENE I. 25 FAUST. Is parchment, then, the holy fount before thee, A draught wherefrom thy thirst forever slakes ? No true refreshment can restore thee, Save what from thine own soul spontaneous breaks. WAGNER. Pardon ! a great delight is granted When, in the spirit of the ages planted. We mark how, ere our time, a sage has thought, And then, how far his work, and grandly, we have brought. • O yes, up to the stars at last ! Listen, my friend : the ages that are past Are now a book with seven seals protected : What you the Spirit of the Ages call \ Is nothing but the spirit of you all, / Wherein the Ages are reflected. So, oftentimes, you miserably mar it ! At the first glance who sees it runs away. An offal-barrel and a lumber-garret, Or, at the best, a Punch-and-Judy play,^'' With maxims most pragmatical and hitting. As in the mouths of puppets are befitting ! WAGNER. But then, the world — the human heart and brain ! Of these one covets some slight apprehension. FAUST. Yes, of the kind which men attain ! Who dares the child's true name in public mention ? The few, who thereof something really learned, VOL. 1. 2 26 FAUST. \ Unwisely frank, with hearts that spurned concealing, ; And to the mob laid bare each thought and feeling, ' Have evermore been crucified and burned.=s I pray you, Friend, 't is now the dead of night ; Our converse here must be suspended. WAGNER. I would have shared your watches with delight. That so our learned talk might be extended.^ To-morrow, though, I '11 ask, in Easter leisure, This and the other question, at your pleasure. Most zealously I seek for erudition : Much do I know — but to know all is my ambition. \b.xit. FAUST {solus). That brain, alone, not loses hope, whose choice is To stick in shallow trash forevermore, — Which digs with eager hand for buried ore, And, when it finds an angle-worm, rejoices ! Dare such a human voice disturb the flow, Around me here, of spirit-presence fullest ? And yet, this once my thanks I owe To thee, of all earth's sons the poorest, dullest ! For thou hast torn me from that desperate state Which threatened soon to overwhelm my senses : The apparition was so giant-great. It dwarfed and withered all my soul's pretences ! I, image of the Godhead, who began — Deeming Eternal Truth secure in nearness — To sun myself in heavenly light and clearness. And laid aside the earthly man ; — I, more than Cherub, whose free force had planned To flow through Nature's veins in glad pulsation, SCENE I. 27 To re^ch beyond, enjoying in creation The life of Gods, behold my expiation ! A thunder-word hath swept me from my stand.'' With thee I dare not venture to compare me. Though I possessed the power to draw thee near me, The power to keep thee was denied my hand. When that ecstatic moment held me, i felt myself so small, so great ; But thou hast ruthlessly repelled me Back upon Man's uncertain fate. What shall I shun .' Whose guidance borrow ? Shall I accept that stress and strife ? Ah ! every deed of ours, no less than every sorrow. Impedes the onward march of life. Some alien substance more and more is cleaving To all the mind conceives of grand and fair ; When this world's Good is won by our achieving, The Better, then, is named a cheat and snare. The fine emotions, whence our lives we mould. Lie in the earthly tumult dumb and cold. If hopeful Fancy once, in daring flight. Her longings to the Infinite expanded. Yet now a narrow space contents her quite, Since Time's wild wave so many a fortune stranded. Care at the bottom of the heart is lurking : Her secret pangs in silence working. She, restless, rocks herself, disturbing joy and rest : In newer masks her face is ever drest, By turns as house and land, as wife and child, pre- sented, — As water, fire, as poison, steel : We dread the blows we never feel, And what we never lose is yet by us lamented ! 28 FAUST. I am not like the Gods ! That truth is felt too deep : The worm am I, that in the dust doth creep, — That, while in dust it lives and seeks its bread. Is crushed and buried by the wanderer's tread. Is not this dust, these walls Within them hold. The hundred shelves, which cramp and chain me, The frippery, the trinkets thousand-fold. That in this mothy den restrain me ? Here shall I find the help I need? Shall here a thousand volumes teach me only That men, self-tortured, ever3n!vhere must bleed, — And here and there one happy man sits lonely?^' What mean'st th'ou by that grin, thou hollow skull. Save that thy brain, like mine, a clOudy mirrOr, Sought once the shining day, and then, in twilight dull,'' Thirsting for Truth, went wretchedly to Error ? Ye instruments, forsooth, but jeer at me With wheel and cog, and shapes uncouth of wonder ; I found the portal, you the keys should be ; Your wards are deftly wrought, but drive no bolts asunder ! Mysterious even in open day, Nature retains her veil, despite our clamors : That which she doth not willingly display Cannot be wrenched from her with levers, screws, and hammers. Ye ancient tools, whose use I never knew, Here, since my father used ye, still ye moulder : Thou, ancient scroll, hast worn thy smoky hue Since at this desk the dim laia^ wont to smoulder. 'T were better far, had I my little idly spent. Than now to sweat beneath its burden, I confess it ! What from your fathers' heritage is lent, Earn it anew, to really possess it ! ^ SCENE I. 2 J Wh^t serves n,ot, is a sore impediment : The Moment's need creates tjie thing to serve and bless it! Yet, wherefore turns my gaze to yonder point so lightly ? IS- yonder flask a magnet for mine .eyes ? Whence, all around me, glows the air so brightly. As when in woods at night the mellow moonbeam lies ? I hail thee, wondrous, rarest vial ! I take thee down devoutly, for the trial : Man's art and wit I venerate in thee. Thou summary of gentle slumber-juices, Essence of deadly finest powers and uses. Unto thy master show thy favor free ! I see thee, and the stings of pain diminish ; I grasp thee, and my struggles slowly finish : My spirit's flood-tide ebbeth more and more. Out on the open ocean speeds my dreaming ; The glassy flood before my feet is gleaming, A new day beckons to a newer shore ! A fiery chariot, borne on buoyant pinions. Sweeps near me now ! I soon shall ready be To pierce the ether's high, unknown dominions, To reach new spheres of pure activity ! This godlike rapture, this supreme existence, Do I, but now a worm, deserve to track ? Yes, resolute to reach some brighter distance. On Earth's fair sun I turn my back ! 3" Yes, let me dare those gates to fling asunder, Which every man would fain go slinking by ! 'T is time, through deeds this word of truth to thunder : That with the height of Gods Man's dignity may vie ! Nor from that glooniy gulf to shrink affrighted, 30 FAUST. Where Fancy doth herself to seK-born pangs compel, — To struggle toward that pass benighted, Around whose narrow mouth flame all the fires of Hell, — To take this step with cheerful resolution. Though Nothingness should be the certain, swift con- clusion ! And now come down, thou cup of crystal clearest ! Fresh from thine ancient cover thou appearest. So many years forgotten to my thought ! Thou shon'st at old ancestral banquets cheery, The solemn guests thou madest merry, When one thy wassail to the other brought. The rich and skilful figures o'er thee wrought. The drinker's duty, rhyme-wise to explain them. Or in one breath below the mark to drain them. From many a night of youth my memory caught. Now to a neighbor shall I pass thee never. Nor on thy curious art to test my wit endeavor : Here is a juice whence sleep is swiftly born. It fills with browner flood thy crystal hollow ; I chose, prepared it : thus I follow, — With all my soul the final drink I swallow, A solemn festal cup, a greeting to the morn ! \He sets the goblet to his mouth. (Chime of hells and choral song.) CHORUS OF ANGELS.3= Christ is arisen ! Joy to the Mortal One, Whom the unmerited. Clinging, inherited Needs did imprison. SCENE I. 31 FAUST. What hollow humming, what a sharp, clear stroke, Drives from my lip the goblet's, at their meeting ? Announce the booming bells already woke The first glad hour of Easter's festal greeting ? Ye choirs, have ye begun the sweet, consoling chant. Which, through the night of Death, the angels minis- trant Sang, God's new Covenant repeating ? CHORUS OF WOMEN. With spices and precious Balm, we arrayed him ; Faithful and gracious, We tenderly laid him : Linen to bind him • Cleanlily wound we : Ah ! when we would find him, Christ no more found we i CHORUS OF ANGELS. Christ is ascended ! Bhss hath invested him, — Woes that molested him, Trials that tested him. Gloriously ended ! FAUST. Why, here in dust, entice me with your spell. Ye gentle, powerful sounds of Heaven ? Peal rather there, where tender natures dwell. Your messages I hear, but faith has not been given ; The dearest child of Faith is Miracle. I venture not to soar to yonder regions Whence the glad tidings hither float ; ,2 FAUST. Arid yet, from childhood up familiar with the note, To Life it now renews the old allegiance. Once Heavenly Love sent down a burning kiss Upon my brow, in Sabbath silence holy ; And, filled with mystic presage, chimed the church-bell slowly, And prayer dissolved me in a fervent bliss.33 A sweet, uncomprehended yearning Drove forth my feet through woods and meadows free, And while a thousand tears were burning, I felt a world arise for me. These chants, to youth and all its sports appealing, Proclaimed the Spring's rejoicing holiday ; And Memory holds me now, with childish feeUng, ' Back from the last, the solemn way. j Sound on, ye hymns of Heaven, so sweet and mild ! ' My tears gush forth : the Earth takes back her child ! CHORUS OF DISCIPLES. Has He, victoriously. Burst from the vaulted Grave, and ail-gloriously Now sits exalted ? Is He, in glow of birth, Rapture creative near ? ^ Ah ! to the woe of earth Still are we native here. We, his aspiring Followers, Him we miss ; Weeping, desiring. Master, Thy bliss ! CHORUS OF ANGELS. Christ is arisen, Out of Corruption's womb : SCENE I. Burst ye the prison, Break from your gloom ! Praising and pleading him, Lovingly needing him, Brotherly feeding him, Preaching and speeding him, Blessing, succeeding Him, Thus is the Master near, — Thus is He here ! 2* FAUST. II. BEFORE THE CITY-GATE.35 {Pedestrians of all kinds come forth.) SEVERAL APPRENTICES. "1 1 7 H Y do you go that way ? OTHERS. We 're for the Hunters'-lodge, to-day. THE FIRST. We '11 saunter to the Mill, in yonder hollow. AN APPRENTICE. Go to the River Tavern, I should say. SECOND APPRENTICE. But then, it 's not a pleasant way. THE OTHERS. And what viWXyou f A THIRD. As goes the crowd, I follow. A FOURTH. Come up to Burgdorf ? There you '11 find good cheer, The finest lasses and the best of beer, j And jolly rows and squabbles, trust me ! SCENE 71. 35 A FIFTH. You swaggering fellow, is your hide A tliird time itching to be tried ? I won't go there, your jolly rows disgust me ! SERVANT-GIRL. No, — no ! I 'U turn and go to town again. ANOTHER. We '11 surely find him by those poplars yonder. THE FIRST. That 's no great luck for me, 't is plain. You '11 have him, when and where you wander : His partner in the dance you '11 be, — But what is aU your fun to me ? THE OTHER. He 's surely not alone to-day : He '11 be with Curly-head, I heard him say. A STUDENT. Deuce ! how they step, the buxom wenches ! Come, Brother ! we must see them to the benches. A strong, old beer, a pipe that stings and bites, A girl in Sunday clothes, — these three are my delights. citizen's DAUGHTER. Just see those handsome fellows, there ! It 's really shameful, I declare ; — To follow servant-girls, when they Might have the most genteel society to-day ! SECOND STUDENT {to the First). Not quite so fast ! Two others come behind, — Those, dressed so prettily and neatly. 36 f^ UST. My neighbor 's one of them, I find, A girl that takes my heart, completely. They go their way with looks demure, But they 'U accept us, after all, I 'm sure. THE FIRST. No, Brother ! not for me their formal ways. Quick ! lest our game escape us in the press : The hand that wields the broom on Saturdays Will best, on Sundays, fondle and caress. CITIZEN. He suits me not at all, our new-made Burgomaster ! Since he 's installed, his arrogance grows faster. How has he helped the town, I say ? Things worsen, — what improvement names he ? Obedience, more than ever, claims he, And more than ever we must pay ! BEGGAR {sings). Good gentlemen and lovely ladies, So red of cheek and fine of dress, Behold, how needful here your aid is. And see and lighten my distress ! Let me not vainly sing my ditty ; He 's only glad who gives away : A holiday, that shows your pity. Shall be for me a harvest-day ! ANOTHER CITIZEN. On Sundays, holidays, there 's naught I take delight in. Like gossiping of war, and war's array, When down in Turkey, far away. The foreign people are a-fighting. One at the window sits, with glass and friends, SCENE //. 37 And sees all sorts of ships go down the river gliding: And blesses then, as home he wends At night, our times of peace abiding. THIRD CITIZEN. Yes, Neighbor ! that 's my notion, too : Why, let them break their heads, let loose their passions, And mix things madly through and through, So, here, we keep our good old fashions ! OLD WOMAN {to the Citizen's Daughter). Dear me, how fine ! So handsome, and so young ! Who would n't lose his heart, that met you ? Don't be so proud ! I '11 hold my tongue, And what you 'd like I '11 undertake to get you. citizen's daughter. Come, Agatha ! I shun the witch's signt Before folks, lest there be misgiving : 'T is true, she showed me, on Saint Andrew's Night,^^ My future sweetheart, just as he were living. the other. She showed me mine, in crystal clear," With several wild young blades, a soldier-lover : I seek him everywhere, I pry and peer. And yet, somehow, his face I can't discover. SOLDIERS. Castles, with lofty Ramparts and towers^ Maidens disdainful In Beauty's array. Both shall be ours ! Bold is the venture, Splendid the pay ! 38 FAUST. Lads, let the trumpets For us be suing, — Calling to pleasure. Calling to ruin. Stormy our life is ; Such is its boon ! Maidens and castles Capitulate soon. Bold is the venture. Splendid the pay ! And the soldiers go marching, Marching away ! Faust and Wagner. FAUST. Released from ice are brook and river ^ By the quickening glance of the gracious Spring; The colors of hope to the valley cling, And weak old Winter himself must shiver, Withdrawn to the mountains, a crownless king : Whence, ever retreating, he sends again Impotent showers of sleet that darkle In belts across the green o' the plain. But the sun will permit no white to sparkle ; Everywhere form in development moveth ; He will brighten the world with the tints he loveth, And, lacking blossoms, blue, yeUow, and red, He takes these gaudy people instead. Turn thee about, and from this height Back on the town direct thy sight. Out of the hollow, gloomy gate, The motley throngs come forth elate : Each will the joy of the sunshine hoard. To honor the Day of the Risen Lord ! SCENE II. They feel, themselves, their resurrection : From the low, dark rooms, scarce habitable ; From the bonds of Work, from Trade's restriction ; From the pressing weight of roof and gable ; From the narrow, crushing streets and alleys ; From the churches' solemn and reverend night. All come forth to the cheerful light. How lively, see ! the multitude sallies, Scattering through gardens and fields remote, While over the river, that broadly dallies. Dances so many a festive boat ; And overladen, nigh to sinking, The last full wherry takes the stream. Yonder afar, from the hill-paths blinking. Their clothes are colors that softly gleam. I hear the noise of the village, even ; Here is the People's proper Heaven ; " Here high and low contented see ! Here I am Man, — dare man to be ! WAGNER. To stroll with you, Sir Doctor, flatters ; 'T is honor, profit, unto me. But I, alone, would shun these shallow matters, Since all that 's coarse provokes my enmity. This fiddling, shouting, ten-pin roUing I hate, — these noises of the throng: They rave, as Satan were their sports controlling, And call it mirth, and call it song ! PEASANTS, UNDER THE LINDEN-TREE. {Dance and Song.) All for the dance the shepherd dressed,^' In ribbons, wreath, and gayest vest Himself with care arraying : 39 4° FAUST. Around the linden lass and lad Already footed it like mad : Hurrah ! hurrah ! Hurrah — tarara-la ! The fiddle-bow was playing. He broke the ranks, no whit afraid, And with his elbow punched a maid, Who stood, the dance surveying: The buxom wench, she turned and said : " Now, you I call a stupid-head ! " Hurrah ! hurrah ! Hurrah — tarara-la ! " Be decent while you 're staying ! " Then round the circle went their flight. They danced to left, they danced to right : Their kirtles all were playing, They first grew red, and then grew warm. And rested, panting, arm in arm, — Hurrah ! hurrah ! Hurrah — tarara-la ! And hips and elbows straying. Now, don't be so familiar here ! How many a one has fooled his dear, Waylaying and betraying ! And yet, he coaxed her soon aside, And round the linden sounded wide : Hurrah ! hurrah ! Hurrah — tarara-la ! And the fiddle-bow was playing. OLD PEASANT. Sir Doctor, it is good of you,*" That thus you condescend, to-day, SCENE II. Among this crowd of merry folk, A highly-learned man, to stray. Then also take the finest can, We fill with fresh wine, for your sake : I offer it, and humbly wislj That not alone your thirst it slake, — That, as the drops below its brink. So many days of life you drinjcj FAUST. I take the cup you kindly reach. With thanks and health to all and each. {The People gather in a circle about him.) OLD PEASANT. In truth, 't is well and fitly limed, That now our day of joy you share, Who heretofore, in evil days. Gave us so much of helping care. Still many a man stands living here. Saved by your father's skilful hand. That snatched him from the fever's rage And stayed the plague in all the land. Then also you, though but a youth,*' Went into every house of pain : Many the corpses carried forth. But you in health came out again. No test or trial you evaded : A Helping God the helper aided. ALL. Health to the man, so skilled and tried, That for our help he long may bide ! 41 42 FAUST. FAUST. To Him above bow down, my friends, Who teaches help, and succor sends ! {.He goes on with Wagner.^ WAGNER. With what a feeling, thou great man, must thou Receive the people's honest veneration ! How lucky he, whose gifts his station With such advantages endow ! Thou 'rt shown to all the younger generation : Each asks, and presses near to gaze ; The fiddle stops, the dance delays. Thou goest, they stand in rows to see, And all the caps are lifted high ; A little more, and they would bend the knee As if the Holy Host came by. FAUST. A few more steps ascend, as far as yonder stone ! — Here from our wandering will we rest contented. Here, lost in thought, I 've lingered oft alone. When foolish fasts and prayers my life tormented. Here, rich in hope and firm in faith. With tears, wrung hands and sighs, I 've striven, The end of that far-spreading death Entreating from the Lord of Heaven ! Now like contempt the crowd's applauses seem : Couldst thou but read, within mine inmost spirit, How little now I deem That sire or son such praises merit ! My father's was a sombre, brooding brain. Which through the holy spheres of Nature groped and wandered, SCENE II. 43 And honestly, in his own fashion, pondered With labor whimsical, and pain : Who, in his dusky work-shop bending. With proved adepts in company. Made, from his recipes unending. Opposing substances agree. There was a Lion red, a wooer daring,*' Within the Lily's tepid bath espoused, And both, tormented then by flame unsparing, By turns in either bridal chamber housed. If then appeared, with colors splendid. The young Queen in her crystal shell. This was the medicine — the patients' woes soon ended, And none demanded : who got well ? Thus we, our helhsh boluses compounding, Among these vales and hills surrounding, Worse than the pestilence, have passed. Thousands were done to death from poison of my giving; And I must hear, by all the living. The shameless murderers praised at last ! WAGNER. Why, therefore, yield to such depression ? A good man does his honest share In exercising, with the strictest care. The art bequeathed to his possession ! Dost thou thy father honor, as a youth ? Then may his teaching cheerfully impel thee : Dost thou, as man, increase the stores of truth? Then may thine own son afterwards excel thee. O happy he, who still renews The hope, from Error's deeps to rise forever ! That which one does not know, one needs to use ; 44 FAUST. And what one knows, one uses never. But let us not, by such despondence, so The fortune of this hour epibitter ! Mark how, beneath the evening sunlight's gloyy, The green-embosomed houses gUtter ! The glow retreats, done is the day of toil ; It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring ; Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil, Upon its track to follow, follow soaring ,! Then would I see eternal Evening gild The silent world beneath me glowing, On fire each mountain-peak, with peace each valley filled, The silver brook to golden rivers flowing. The mountain-chain, with all its gorges deep. Would then no more impede ray godlike motion ; And now before mine eyes expands the ocean With all its bays, in shining sleep ! Yet, finally, the weary god is sinking ; The new-born impulse fires my mind, — I hasten on, his beams eternal drinking. The Day before me and the Night behind, Above me heaven unfurled, the floor of waves beneath me, — A glorious dream ! though now the glories fade. Alas ! the wings that lift the mind no aid Of wings to lift the body can bequeath me. Yet in each soul is born the pleasure Of yearning onward, upward and away. When o'er our heads, lost in the vaulted azure, The lark sends down his flickering lay, — When over crags and piny fiighlands The poising eagle slowly soars, And over plains and lakes and islands The crane sails by to other shores. SCENE JJ. 45 A streaming trail of fire, if I see rigp' Follows his path of mysteri^,^-- ...^ some odd caprices, bill. iii,v>,i ^ei 3Ui,n impulse felt, as this is. One sooft fatigues, on woods and fields to look, Nor would I beg the bird his wing to spare us : How otherwfse the mental raptures bear us Frorti page to page, from book to book ! Then winter nights fake loveliness unfold, As warmer life in every limb had crowned you ; And when your hands unroll some parchment rare and | old, I All Heaven descends, and opens bright arotmd you ! One impulse art thou conscious of, at best ; O, never seek to know the other ! Two souls, alas ! reside within my breasf, V And each withdraws from, and repels, its brother. / One with tenacious organs holds in love And clinging lust the world in its embraces ; "flie other strongly sweeps, this dust alaove. Into the high ancestral spaces. If there be airy spirits near,« 'Twixt HeaVen and Earth on potent errands fleeing. Let them drop down the golden atmosphere. And bear me forth to new and varied being ! Yea, if a ma'gic mantle oncft v?er6 mine, To waft me o'er the world at pleasure, I would not for the costliest stores of treasure — Not for a monlarcli's robe — the gift resign. WAGNER. Invoke not thus the well-known throng, Which through the firmament diffused is faring. And danger thousand-fold, our race to wrong, 46 FAUST. In every quarter is p. Swift from the North tlrt^„V-^es never. Sweep down, and with their barbgefif, so Then from the East they come, to dry and warp Your lungs, till breath and being fail you : If from the Desert sendeth them the South, With fire on fire your throbbing forehead crowning, The West leads on a host, to cure the drouth Only when meadow, field, and you are drowning. They gladly hearken, prompt for injury, — Gladly obey, because they gladly cheat us ; From Heavep they represent themselves to be, And lisp like angels, when with lies they meet us. But, let us go 1 'T is gray and dusky all : The air is cold, the vapors fall. At night, one learns -his house to prize: — Why stand you thus, with such astonished eyes ? What, in the twilight, can your mind so trouble ? FAUST. Seest thou the black dog coursing there, through corn and stubble ?« WAGNER. Long since : yet deemed him not important in the least FAUST. Inspect him close : for what tak'st thou the beast ? WAGNER. Why, for a poodle who has lost his master. And scents about, his track to find. FAUST. Seest thou the spiral circles, narrowing faster, Which he, approaching, round us seems to wind ? SCENE II. 47 A streaming trail of fire, if I see rightly, Follows his path of mystery. WAGNER. It may be that your eyes deceive you Slightly ; Naught but a plain black poodle do I see. FAUST. It seems to me that with enchanted cunning He snares our feet, some future chain to bind. WAGNER. I see him timidly, in doubt, around us running. Since, in his master's stead, two strangers doth he fid FAUST. The circle narrows : he is near ! WAGNER. * A dog thou seest, and not a phantom, here ! Behold him stop — upon his belly crawl — His tail set wagging : canine habits, all ! FAUST. Come, follow us ! Come here, at least ! WAGNER. 'T is the absurdest, drollest beast. Stand still, and you will see him wait ; Address him, and he gambols straight ; If something 's lost, he 'U quickly bring it, — Your cane, if in the stream you fling it. FAUST. No doubt you 're right : no trace of mind, I own, Is in the beast : I see but drill, alone. 48 FAUST. WAGNER. The dog, when he 's well educated, Is by the wisest tolerated. Yes, he deserves your favor thoroughly, — The clever scholar of the students, he ! ( They pass in the city-gate.) SCENE III. 4g III. THE STUDY. FAUST. (Entering, with the poodle.) "DEHIND me, field and meadow sleeping, •*-^ I leave in deep, prophetic night, Within whose dread and holy keeping The better soul awakes to light. The wild desires no longer win us, The deeds of passion cease to chain ; The love of Man revives within us. The love of God revives again. • Be still, thou poodle ! make not such racket and riot ! Why at the threshold wilt snuffing be ? Behind the stove repose thee in quiet ! My softest cushion I give to thee. As thou, up yonder, with running and leaping Amused us hast, on the mountain's crest, So now I take thee into my keeping, A welcome, but also a silent, guest. Ah, when, within our narrow chamber The lamp with friendly lustre glows, Flames in the breast each faded ember. And in the heart, itself that knows. Then Hope again lends sweet assistance. And Reason then resumes her speech : One yearns, the rivers of existence. The very founts of Life, to reach. VOL, I. 3 D 5^ FAUST. Snarl not, poodle ! To the sound that rises, The sacred tones that my soul embrace. This bestial noise is out of place. We are used to see, that Man despises What he never comprehends. And the Good and the Beautiful vilipends. Finding them often hard to measure : Will the dog, like man, snarl his displeasure ? But ah ! I feel, though will thereto be stronger, ,\ Contentment flows from out my breast no longer. Why must the stream so soon run dry and fail us, And burning thirst again assail us ? Therein I 've borne so much probation ! And yet, this want may be supplied us ; We call the Supernatural to guide us ; We pine and thirst for Revelation, Which nowhere worthier is, more nobly sent, fThan here, in our New Testament. I feel impelled, its meaning to determine, — With honest purpose, once for all. The hallowed Original To change to my beloved German. (He opens a volume, and commences. ) 'T is written : " In the Beginning was the Word" <* Here am I balked : who, now, can help afford ? The Word? — impossible so high to rate it ; And otherwise must I translate it, If by the Spirit I am truly taught. Then thus : " In the Beginning was the Thought}' This first line let me weigh completely. Lest my impatient pen proceed too fleetly. Is it the Thought which works, creates, indeed .■' " In the Beginning was the Power" I read. SCENE III. gi Yet, as I write, a warning is suggested. That I the sense may not have fairly tested. The Spirit aids me : now I see the light ! " In the Beginning was the Act," I write. If I must share my chamber with thee, Poodle, stop that howling, prithee ! ] Cease to bark and bellow ! Such a noisy, disturbing fellow I '11 no longer suffer near me. One of us, dost hear me ! Must leave, I fear me. • No longer guest-right I bestow ; The door is open, art free to go. But what do I see in the creature ? Is that in the course of nature ? Is 't actual fact ? or Fancy's sho\^ ? How long and broad my poodle grows ! He rises mightily : A canine form that cannot be ! What a spectre I 've harbored thus ! He resembles a hippopotamus, With fiery eyes, teeth terrible to see : O, now am I sure of thee ! For all of thy half-hellish brood The Key of Solomon is good.* SPIRITS (/« the corridor). Some one, within, is caught ! Stay without, follow him not ! Like the fox in a snare. Quakes the old hell-lynx there. Take heed — look about ! Back and forth hover, Under and over, 52' PA UST. And he '11 work himself out. If your aid oan avail him, Let it not fail him ; For he, without measure. Has wrought for our pleasure. . FAUST. First, to encounter the beast, The Words of the Four be addressed:** Salamander, shine glorious ! Wave, Undine, as bidden ! Sylph, be thou hidden ! Gnome, be laborious ! Who knows not their sense (These elements),^ Their properties Atid'power not: sees, — ■ No mastery he inherits Over the Spirits. Vanish in flaming ether, Salamander ! Flow foamingly together, , Undine-! Shine in meteor-sheen, Sylph ! Bring help to hearth and shelf. Incubus ! Incubus ! Step forward, and finish thus ' Of the Four, no feature Lurks in the creature. Quiet he lies, and grins disdain : Not yet, it seems, have I given him pain. SCENE III. 53 Now, to undisguise thee,'" ^ Hear me exorcise thee ! Art -thou, my gay one. Hell's fugitive stray-one ? The sign witness now, Before which they bow, The.cohorts of Hell ! With hair all bristling, it begins to swell. Base Being, hearest thou ? Knowest and fearest thou The One, unoriginate,^'' Named inexpressibly. Through all Heaven impermeate. Pierced irredressibly ! Behind the stove still banned, See it, an elephant, expand ! It fills the space entire. Mist-like melting, ever faster. 'T is enough : ascend no higher, — =- Lay thyself at the feet of the Master ! Thou seest, not vain the threats I bring thee ; With holy fire I '11 scorch and sting thee ! Wait not to know The threefold dazzling glow ! Wait not to know The strongest art within my hands ! ^___. MEPHISTOPHELES 5' {while the vapor is dissipating, steps forth from behind the stove, in the costume of a Travelling Scholar). Why such a noise ? What are my lord's commands ? 54 FAUST. FAUST. This was the poodle's real core, A travelHng scholar, then ? The casus is diverting. MEPHISTOPHELES. The learned gentleman I bow before : You 've made me roundly sweat, that 's certain ! FAUST. What is thy name ? MEPHISTOPHELES. A question small, it seems, For one whose mind the Word so much despises ; Who, scorning all external gleams. The depths of being only prizes. FAUST. With all you gentlemen, the name 's a test, Whereby the nature usually is expressed. Clearly the latter it implies In names lika Beelzebub, Destroyer, Father of Lies.s' Who art thou, then ? MEPHISTOPHELES. Part of that Power, not understood. Which always wiUs the Bad, and always works the Good. FAUST. What hidden sense in this enigma lies ? MEPHISTOPHELES. I am the Spirit that Denies ! 53 And justly so : for all things, from the Void Called forth, deserve to be destroyed : SCENE III. 55 'T were better, then, were naught created. Thus, all which you as Sin have rated, — Destruction, — aught with Evil blent, — That is my proper element. FAUST. Thou nam'st thyself a part, yet show'st complete to me ? MEPHISTOPHELES. The modest truth I speak to thee. If Man, that microcosmic fool, can see Himself a whole so frequently. Part of the Part am I, once All, in primal Night, — Part of the Darkness which brought forth the Light, The haughty Light, which now disputes the space. And claims of Mother Night her ancient place. And yet, the struggle fails ; since Light, howe'er it weaves, Still, fettered, unto bodies cleaves : It flows'from bodies, bodies beautifies ; By bodies is its course impeded ; And so, but little time is needed, I hope, ere, as the bodies die, it dies ! FAUST. I see the plan thou art pursuing : Thou canst not compass general ruin, And hast on smaller scale begun. MEPHISTOPHELES. And truly 't is not much, when all is done. That which to Naught is in resistance set, — The Something of this clumsy world, — has yet. With all that I have undertaken, Not been by me disturbed or shaken : From earthquake, tempest, wave, volcano's brand, 56 FAUST. Back into quiet settle sea and land ! And that damned stuff, the bestial, human brood,— What use, in having that to play with ? How many have I made away with ! And ever circulates a newer, fresher blood. It makes me furious, such things beholding : From Water, Earth, and Air unfolding, A thousand germs break forth and grow,5'' In dry, and wet, and warm, and chilly ; 1 And had I not the Flame reserved, why, really. There 's nothing special of my own to show ! FAUST. So, to the actively eternal Creative force, in cold disdain You now oppose the fist infernal, Whose wicked clench is all in vain ! Some other labor seek thou rather, Queer Son of Chaos, to begin ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Well, we '11 consider : thou canst gather My views, when next I venture in. Might I, perhaps, depart at present ? • FAUST. Why thou shouldst ask, I don't perceive. Though our acquaintance is so recent, For further visits thou hast leave. The window 's here, the door is yonder ; A chimney, also, you behold. MEPHISTOPHELES. I must confess that forth I may not wander. My steps by one slight obstacle controlled, — The wizard's-foot, that on your threshold made is.ss SCENE III. ,57 FAUST. The pentagram prohibits thee ? Why, tell me now, thou Son of Hades, If that prevents, how cam'st thou in to me ? Could such a spirit be so cheated ? MEPHISTOPHELES. Inspect the thing : the drawing 's not completed. The outer angle, you may see. Is open left — the lines don't fit it. FAUST. Well, — Chance, this time, has fairly hit it ! And thus, thou 'rt prisoner to me ? It seems the business has succeeded. MEPHISTOPHELES. • The poodle naught remarked, as after thee he speeded ; But other aspects now obtain : The Devil can't get out again. FAUST. Try, then, the open window-pane ! MEPHISTOPHELES. For Devils and for spectres this is law : Where they have entered in, there also they withdraw. The first is free to us ; we 're governed by the second. FAUST. In Hell itself, then, laws are reckoned ? That's well ! So might a compact be Made with you gentlemen — and binding, — surely? 3* 5 8 FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. All that is promised shall delight thee purely; No skinflint bargain shalt thou see. But this is not of swift conclusion ; We '11 talk about the matter soon. And now, I do entreat this boon — Leave to withdraw from my intrusion. FAUST. One moment more I ask thee to remain, , Some pleasant news, at least, to tell me. MEPHISTOPHELES. Release me, now ! I soon shall come again ; Then thou, at will, mayst question and compel me. FAUST, I have not snares around thee cast ; Thyself hast led thyself into the meshes. Who traps the Devil, hold him fast ! Not soon a second time he '11 catch a prey so precious. MEPHISTOPHELES. An 't please thee, also I 'm content to stay, And serve thee in a social station ; But stipulating, that I may With arts of mine afford thee recreation. FAUST. Thereto I willingly agree, If the diversion pleasant be. MEPHISTOPHELES. My friend, thou 'It win, past all pretences, More in this hour to soothe thy senses. Than in the year's monotony. SCENE III. 59 That which the dainty spirits sing thee, The lovely pictures they shall bring thee, Are more than magic's empty show. Thy scent will be to bliss invited; Thy palate then with taste delighted, Thy nerves of touch ecstatic glow ! All unprepared, the charm I spin : We 're here together, so begin ! SPIRITS.5* Vanish, ye darkling Arches above him ! Loveliest weather, ' Born of blue ether, Break from the sky ! O that the darkling Clouds had departed ! , Starlight is sparkling, Tranquiller-hearted Suns are on high. Heaven's own children In beauty bewildering, Waveringly bending, Pass as they hover ; Longing unending Follows them over. They, with their glowing Garments, out-ilowing. Cover, in going. Landscape and bower, Where, in seclusion. Lovers are plighted, Lost in illusion. Bower on bower ! Tendrils unblighted ! 6o FAUST. Lo ! in a shower Grapes that o'ercluster Gush into must, or Flow into rivers Of foaming and flashing Wine, that is dashing Gems, as it boundeth Down the high places. And spreading, surroundeth With crystalline spaces. In happy embraces. Blossoming forelands, Emerald shore-lands ! And the winged races Drink, and fly onward — Fly ever sunward To the enticing Islands, that flatter, Dipping and rising Light on the water ! Hark, the inspiring Sound of their quiring ! See, the entrancing Whirl of their dancing ! All in the air are Freer and fairer. Some of them scaling Boldly the highlands. Others are sailing. Circling the islands ; Others are flying ; Life-ward all hieing, — AU for the distant Star of existent Rapture and Love ! SCENE in. 6 1 MEPHISTOPHELES. He sleeps ! Enough, ye fays ! your airy number Have sung him truly into slumber : For this performance I your debtor prove. — Not yet art thou the man, to catch the Fiend and hold him ! — With fairest images of dreams infold him, Plunge him in seas of sweet untruth ! Yet, for the threshold's magic which controlled him, The Devil needs a rat's quick tooth. I use no lengthened invocation : Here rustles one that soon will work my liberation. The lord of rats and eke of mice, Of flies and bed-bugs, frogs and lice. Summons thee hither to the door-sill. To gnaw it where, with just a morsel • Of oil, he paints the spot for thee : — There com'st thou, hopping on to me ! To work, at once ! The point which made me craven Is forward, on the ledge, engtaven. Another bite makes free the door : So, dream thy dreams, O Faust, until we meet once more ! FAUST {awaking). Am I again so foully cheated ? Remains there naught of lofty spirit-sway, But that a dream the Devil counterfeited. And that a poodle ran away ? 62 FAUST. A IV. THE STUDY. Faust. Mephistopheles. FAUST. KNOCK ? Come in ! Again my quiet broken ? MEPHISTOPHELES. 'T is I ! FAUST. Come in ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Thrice must the words be spoken. FAUST. Come in, then ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Thus thou pleasest me. I hope we '11 suit each other well ; For now, thy vapors to dispel, I come, a squire of high degree,^? In scarlet coat, with golden trimming, A cloak in silken lustre swimming, A tall cock's-feather in my hat, A long, sharp sword for show or quarrel, - And I advise thee, brief and flat, . ; SCENE IV. 63 To don the self-same gay apparel, Tha% from 'this den released, and free, Life be at last revealed to thee ! FAUST. This life of earth, whatever my attire, Would 'pain me in its wonted fashion.s* Too old am I to play with passion ; Too young, to be without desire. What from the world have I to gain ? Thou shjalt abstain — renounce — refrain ! Such is the everlasting song That in the ears of all men rings, — That unrelieved, our whole life long. Each hour, in passing, hoarsely sings. In very terror I at morn awake. Upon the verge of bitter weeping. To see the day of disappointment break. To no one hope of mine — not one — its promise keep- ing:— That even each joy's presentiment With wilful cavil would diminish. With grinning masks of life prevent My mind its fairest work to finish ! Then, too, when night descends, how anxiously Upon ftiy couch of sleep I lay me : There, also, comes no rest to me,59 But some wild dream is sent to fray me. The God that in my breast is owned Can deeply stir the inner sources ; The God, above my powers enthroned. He cannot change external forces. So, by the burden of my days oppressed, Death s desired, and Life a thing unblest ! 64 FAUST. I MEPHISTOPHELES. i i And yet is never Death a wholly welcome gu4st. FAUST. j O fortunate, for whom, when victory glances,. The bloody laurels on the brow he bindeth ! Whom, after rapid, maddening dances, i In clasping maiden-arms he findeth ! j O would that I, before that spirit-power, i Ravished and rapt from life, had sunken ! MEPHISTOPHELES. And yet, by some one, in that nightly hour, ; A certain liquid was not drunken. ^ FAUST. Eavesdropping, ha ! thy pleasure seems to bp. MEPHISTOPHELES. i Omniscient am I not ; yet much is known to »ne. FAUST. I Though some familiar tone, retrieving My thoughts from torment, led me on, \ And sweet, clear echoes came, deceiving A faith bequeathed from Childhood's d9.wn, \ Yet now I curse whate'er entices .J And snares the soul with visions vain ; With dazzling cheats and dear devices \ Confines it in this cave of pain ! j Cursed be, at once, the high ambition | Wherewith the mind itself deludes ! Cursed be the glare of apparition That on the finer sense intrudes ] 1 SCENE IV. 65 Cursed be the lying dream's impression Of name, and fame, and laurelled brow ! Cursed, all that flatters as possession. As wife and child, as knave and plow ! Cursed Mammon be, when he with treasures To restless action spurs our fate ! Cursed when, for soft, indulgent leisures. He lays for us the pillows straight ! Cursed be the vine's transcendent nectar, — The highest favor Love lets fall ! Cursed, also, Hope ! — .cursed Faith, the spectre ! And cursed be Patience most of all ! CHORUS OF SPIRITS (invisible).^ Woe ! woe ! Thou hast it destroyed. The beautiful world. With powerful fist : In ruin 't is hurled. By the blow of a demigod shattered ! .-.■^•''■' The scattered ^" ,_. Fragments into the Void we carry. Deploring The beauty perished beyond restoring. Mightier For the children of men, Brightlier Build it again. In thine own bosom build it anew ! Bid the new career Commence, With clearer sense. And the new songs of cheer Be sung thereto ! K f^ 66 FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. These are the small dependants Who give me attendance. Hear them, to deeds and passion Counsel in shrewd old-fashion ! Into the world of strife, Out of this lonely life That of senses and sap has betrayed thee, They would persuade thee. This nursing of the pain forego thee. That, like a vulture, feeds upon thy breast ! The worst society thou find'st will show thee Thou art a man among the rest. But 't is not meant to thrust Thee into the mob thou hatest ! I am not one of the greatest, Yet, wilt thou to me entrust Thy steps through life, I 'U guide thee, — Will willingly walk beside thee, — Will serve thee at once and forever With best endeavor. And, if thou art satisfied, Will as servant, slave, with thee abide. FAUST. . And what shall be my counter-service therefor ? MEPHISTOPHELES. The time is long : thou need'st not now insist FAUST. No — no ! The Devil is an egotist. And is not apt, without a why or wherefore, " For God's sake," others to assist. SCENE IV. 67 Speak thy conditions plain and clear ! With such a servant danger comes, I fear. MEPHISTOPHELES. Here, an unwearied slave, I '11 wear thy tether, \ And to thine every nod obedient be : When There again we come together, Then shalt thou do the same for me. FAUST. The There my scruples naught increases. When thou hast dashed this world to pieces. The other, then, its place may fill. Here, on this earth, my pleasures have their sources ; Yon sun beholds my sorrows in his courses ; And when from these my life itself divorces, Let happen all that can or will ! » I '11 hear no more : 't is vain to ponder If there we cherish love or hate. Or, in the spheres we dream of yonder, A High and Low our souls await.^' MEPHISTOPHELES. In this sense, even, canst thou venture. Come, bind thyself by prompt indenture. And thou mine arts with joy shalt see : What no man ever saw, I '11 give to thee. FAUST. Canst thou, poor Devil, give me whatsoever ? When was a human soul, in its supreme endeavor. E'er understood by such as thou ? Yet, hast thou food jwiich never satiates, now, — The restless, ruddy gold hast thou. That runs, quicksilver-like, one's fingers through, — •68 FAUST. A game whose winnings no man ever knew, — A maid, that, even from my breast, Beckons my neighbor with her wanton glances, And Honor's godlike zest, The meteor that a moment^dances, — Show me the fruits that, ere they 're gathered, rot,* And trees that daily with new leafage clothe them! MEPHISTOPHELES. Such a demand alarms me not : Such treasures have I, and can show them. But still the time may reach us, good my friend, When peace we crave and more luxurious diet. FAUST. When on an idler's bed I stretch myself in quiet^ There let, at once, my record end ! Canst thou with lying flattery rule me, Until, self-pleased, myself I see, — Canst thou with rich enjoyment fool me. Let that day be the last for me ! The bet I offer. MEPHISTOPHELES. Done ! , FAUST. And heartily ! When thus I hail the Moment flying: " Ah, still delay — thou art so fair ! " ^3 ■ . Then bind me in thy bonds undying. My final ruin then declare ! Then let the death-bell chime the token, Then art thou from thy service free ! The clock may stop, the hand be broken, Then Time be finished unto me ! I SCENE 2V. 69- MEPHISTOPHELES. Consider well: my memory good is rated; FAUST. TKdu hast' a' perfect right thereto. My powers I have not rashly estimated : A slave am I, whate'er I do ^ If thine, or whose ? 't is needless to debate it. MEPHISTOPHELES. Then at the Doctors'-banquet I, to-day,** Will as a servant wait behind thee. But one thing more ! Beyond all risk to bind thee. Give me a line or two, I pray. FAUST. ft Demand'st thou. Pedant, too, a document ? Hast never known a man, nOr proved his word's intent ? Is 't not enough, that what I speak to-day Shall stand, with all my future days agreeing? In all its tides sweeps not the world away. And shall a promise bind my being ? Yet this delusion in our hearts we bear: Who would himself therefrom deliver? Blest he, whose bosom Truth makes pure and fair ! No sacrifice shall'he repent of ever. Nathless a parchment, writ and stamped with care, A spectre is, which all' to shun endeavor. The word, alas ! dies even in the pen. And wax and leather keep the lordship then. What wilt from me, Base Spirit, say? — Brass, marble, parchment, paper, clay? The terms with graver, quill, or chisel, stated? I freely leave the choice to thee. yo FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. Why heat thyself, thus instantly, With eloquence exaggerated ? Each leaf for such a pact is good ; And to subscribe thy name thou 'It take a drop of blood. FAUST. If thou therewith art fully satisfied, So let us by the farce abide. MEPHISTOPHELES. Blood is a juice of rarest quality. FAUST. Fear not that I this pact shall seek to sever ! The promise that I make to thee Is just the sum of my endeavor. I have myself inflated all too high ; My proper place is thy estate : The Mighty Spirit deigns me no reply. And Nature shuts on me her gate. The thread of Thought at last is broken, And knowledge brings disgust unspoken. -^ Let us the sensual deeps explore. To quench the fervors of glowing passion ! Let every marvel take form and fashion Through the impervious veil it wore ! Plunge we in Time's tumultuous dance, In the rush and roll of Circumstance ! Then may delight and distress. And worry and success. Alternately follow, as best they can : Restless activity proves the man ! SCENE IV. 71 MEPHISTOPHELES. For you no bound, no term is set. Whether you everywhere be trying, Or snatch a rapid bliss in flying, IVIay it agree with you, what you get ! Only fall to, and show no timid balking. FAUST. But thou hast heard, 't is not of joy we 're talking. I take the wildering whirl, enjoyment's keenest pain. Enamored hate, exhilarant disdain. My bosom, of its thirst for knowledge sated. Shall not, henceforth, from any pang be wrested. And all of hfe for all mankind created 's Shall be within mine inmost being tested : The highest, lowest forms my soul shall borrow. Shall heap upon itself their bliss and sorrc^w. And thus, my own sole self to all their selves expanded, I too, at last, shall with them all be stranded ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Believe me, who for many a thousand year The same tough meat have chewed and tested. That from the cradle to the bier No man the ancient leaven has digested ! Trust one of us, this Whole surpernal Is made but for a God's delight ! He dwells in splendor single and eternal, But us he thrusts in darkness, out of sight, hxAyou he dowers with Day and Night. FAUST. Nay, but I will ! MEPHISTOPHELES. A good reply ) 72 FAUST. One only fear still needs repeating : ■ The art is long, the time is fleeting. Then let thyself be taught, say I! Go, league thyself with a poet, Give the rein to his imagination, Then wear the crown, and show it,. Of the qualities of his creation, — The courage of the lion's breed. The wild; stag's speed, The Italian's fiery blood, The North's firm fortitude ! Let him find for thee the secret tether That binds the Noble and Mean together^ And teach thy pulses of youth and pleasure To love by rule, and hate by measure ! I 'd like, myself, such a one to see : Sir Microcosm his name should be. FAUST. What am I, then, if 't is denied my part The crown of all humanity to win me. Whereto yearns every sense within me ? MEPHISTO PHELES. Why, on the whole, thou 'rt — what thou art. Set wigs of million curls upon thy head, to raise thee, Wear shoes an ell in height, — the trutli betrays thee. And thou remainest — what thou art. FAUST. I feel, indeed, that I have made the treasure Of human thought and knowledge mine, in vain ; And if I now sit down in restful leisure. No fount of newer strength is in my brain : SCENE IV. I am no hair's-breadth more in height, Nor nearer to the Infinite. 73 MEPHISTOPHELES. Good Sir, you see the facts precisely As they are seen by each and all. We must arrange them now, more wisely. Before the joys of life shall pall. Why, Zounds ! Both hands and feet are, truly — And head and virile forces — thine : Yet all that I indulge in newly, Is 't thence less wholly mine ? If I 've six stalUons in my stall. Are not their forces also lent me ? I speed along, completest man of all. As though my legs were four-and-twenty. Take hold, then ! let reflection rest, » And plunge into the world with zest ! I say to thee, a speculative wight Is hke a beast on moorlands lean. That round and round some fiend misleads to evil phght, While all about He pastures fresh and green. FAUST. Then how shall we begin ? MEPHISTOPHELES. We '11 try a wider sphere. What place of martyrdom is here ! Is 't life, I ask, is 't even prudence. To bore thyself and bore the students ? Let Neighbor Paunch to that attend ! Why plague thyself with threshing straw forever ? The best thou learnest, in the end VOL. I. 4 74 FAUST. Thou dar'st not tell the youngsters — never ! I hear one's footsteps, hither steering. FAUST. To see him now I have no heart. MEPHISTOPHELES. ' So long the poor boy waits a hearing, He must not unconsoled depart. Thy cap and mantle straightway lend me ! I '11 play the comedy with art. [He disguises himself.) My wits, be certain, will befriend me. But fifteen minutes' time is all I need ; For our fine trip, meanwhile, prepare thyself with speed ) {Exit Faust. MEPHISTOPHELES. (In Faxtst's long mantle. ) Reason and Knowledge only thou despise, The highest strength in man that lies ! Let but the Lying Spirit bind thee With magic works and shows that blind thee, And 1 shall have thee fast and sure ! ** — Fate such a bold, untrammelled spirit gave him, As forwards, onwards, ever must endure ; Whose over-hasty impulse drave him Past earthly joys he might secure. Dragged through the wildest life, will I enslave him. Through flat and stale indifference ; With struggling, chilling, checking, so deprave him That, to his hot, insatiate sense, The dream of drink' shall mock, but never lave him : sc£ne IV. 75 Refreshment shall his h'ps in vain implore — Had he not made himself the Devil's, naught could save '^ him, Still were he lost forevermore ! (A Student fK/fyj.) A short time, only, am I here. And come, devoted and sincere. To greet and know the man of fame, Whom men to me with reverence name. MEPHISTOPHELES. Your courtesy doth flatter me : You see a man, as others be. Have you. perchance, elsewhere begun ? Receive me now, I pray, as one Who comes to you with courage good, Somewhat of cash, and healthy blood : My mother was hardly willing to let me ; But knowledge worth having I fain would get me. MEPHISTOPHELES. Then you have reached the right place now. ST0DENT. I 'd like to leave it, I must avow ; I find these walls, these vaulted spaces Are anything but pleasant places. 'T is all so cramped and close and mean; One sees no tree, no glimpse of green. And when the lecture-halls receive me, Seeing, hearing, and thinking leave me. 76 FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. All that depends on habitude. So from its mother's breasts a child At first, reluctant, takes its food. But soon to seek them is beguiled. Thus, at the breasts of Wisdom clinging. Thou 'It find each day a greater rapture bringing. STUDENT. I '11 hang thereon with joy, and freely drain them ; But tell me, pray, the proper means to gain them. MEPHISTOPHELES. Explain, before you further speak, The special faculty you seek. STUDENT. I crave the highest erudition ; And fain would make my acquisition All that there is in Earth and Heaven, In Nature and in Science too. MEPHISTOPHELES. Here is the genuine path for you ; Yet strict attention must be given. STUDENT. Body and soul thereon I '11 wreak ; Yet, truly, I 've some inclination On summer holidays to seek A little freedom and recreation. MEPHISTOPHELES. Use well your time ! It flies so swiftly from us ; But time through order may be won, I promise. SCENE IV. 77 So, Friend, (my views to briefly sum,) First, the collegium logicum. There will your mind be drilled and braced, As if in Spanish boots 't were laced, And thus, to graver paces brought, 'T will plod along the path of thought. Instead of shooting here and there, A will-o'-the-wisp in murky air. Days will be spent to bid you know, What once you did at a single blow. Like eating and -drinking, free and strong, — That one, two, three ! thereto belong. Truly the fabric of mental fleece Resembles a weaver's masterpiece. Where a thousand threads one treadle throws, Where fly the shuttles hither and thither. Unseen the threads are knit together, And an infinite combination grows. Then, the philosopher steps in And shows, no otherwise it could have been : The first was so, the second so. Therefore the third and fourth are so ; Were not the first and second, then The third and fourth had never been. The scholars are everywhere believers, But never succeed in being weavers. He who would study organic existence, First drives out the soul with rigid persistence ; Then the parts in his hand he may hold and class. But the spiritual link is lost, alas ! Encheiresin naturce, this Chemistry names,^' Nor knows how herself she banters and blames ! ' STUDENT. I cannot understand you quite. 78 FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. Your mind will shortly be set aright, When you have learned, all things reducing, To classify them for your using. STUDENT. I feel as stupid, from all you 've said, As if a mill-wheel whirled in my head ! MEPHISTOPHELES. And after — first and foremost duty — Of Metaphysics learn the use and beauty ! See that you most profoundly gain What does not suit the human brain ! A splendid word to serve, you '11 find For what goes in — or won't go in — your mind. But first, at least this half a year, To order rigidly adhere ; Five hours a day, you understand. And when the clock strikes, be on hand ! Prepare beforehand for your part With paragraphs all got by heart, So you can better watch, and look -^ That naught is said but what is in the book : Yet in thy writing as unwearied be, -'As did the Holy Ghost dictate to thee I®' STUDENT. No need to tell me twice to do it ! I think, how useful 't is to write ; For what one has, in black and white. One carries home and then goes through it MEPHISTOPHELES. Yet choose thyself a faculty ! SCENE IV. yg STUDENT. I cannot reconcile myself to Jurisprudence. MEPHISTOPHELES. Nor can I therefore greatly blame you students : I know what science this has come to be. All rights and laws are still transmitted Like an eternal sickness of the race, — From generation unto generation fitted, And shifted round from place to place. Reason becomes a sham. Beneficence a worry : Thou art a grandchild, therefore woe to thee ! The right born with us, ours in verity. This to consider, there 's, alas ! no hurry. STUDENT. My own disgust is strengthened by your speech : lucky he, whom you shall teach ! 1 've almost for Theology decided. MEPHISTOPHELES. I should not wish to see you here misguided : For, as regards this science, let me hint 'T is very hard to shun the false direction ; There 's so much secret poison lurking in 't, So like the medicine, it baffles your detection. Hear, therefore, one alone, for that is best, in sooth. And simply take your master's words for truth. On words let your attention centre ! ^ ^ Then through the safest gate you '11 enter The temple-halls of Certainty. STUDENT. Yet in the word must some idea be. So FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. Of course ! But only shun too over-sharp a tension, For just where fails the comprehension, A word steps promptly in as deputy. With words 't is excellent disputing; Systems to words 't is easy suiting ; On words 't is excellent believing ; No word can ever lose a jot from thieving. STUDENT. Pardon ! With many questions I detain you, Yet must I trouble you again. Of Medicine I still would fain Hear one strong word that might explain you. Three years is but a little space, And, God ! who can the field embrace ? If one some index could be shown, 'T were easier groping forward, truly. MEPHISTOPHELES {aside). I 'm tired enough of this dry tone, — Must play the Devil again, and fully. (Aloud.) To grasp the spirit of Medicine is easy : Learn of the great and littie world your fill, To let it go at last, so please ye. Just as God will ! In vain that through the realms of science you may drift; Each one learns only — just what learn he can : Yet he who grasps the Moment's gift, He is the proper man. Well-made you are, 't is not to be denied. The rest a bold address will win you ; If you but in yourself confide. At once confide all others in you. SCENE IV. 81 To lead the women, learn the special feeling ! — Their everlasting aches and groans, In thousand tones. Have all one source, one mode of healing ; And if your acts are half discreet. You '11 always have them at your feet. A title first must draw and interest them, And show that yours all other arts exceeds ; Then, as a greeting, you are free to touch and test them, • While, thus to do, for years another pleads. You press and count the pulse's dances, And then, with burning sidelong glances, You clasp the swelling hips, to see If tightly laced her corsets be. STUDENT. That 's better, now ! The How and V^fxt, one sees. MEPHISTOPHELES. My worthy friend, gray are all theories, \ ■. And green alone Life's golden tree. STUDENT. I swear to you, 't is like a dream to me. Might I again presume, with trust unbounded, To hear your wisdom thoroughly expounded ? MEPHISTOPHELES. Most willingly, to what extent I may. STUDENT. I cannot really go away : Allow'me that my album first I reach you, — Grant me this favor, I beseech you ! 4* F 82 FAUST. Assuredly. MEPHISTOPHELES. {He writes^ and returns the book.) STUDENT {reads). Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum. { Closes the book with reverence, and withdraws. ) MEPHISTOPHELES. Follow the ancient text, and the snake thou wast ordered to trample ! With all thy likeness to God, thou 'It yet be a sorry example ! (Faust enters.) FAUST,. Now, whither shall we go ? MEPHISTOPHELES. As best it pleases thee. The little world, and then the great, we '11 see.'° With what delight, what profit winning, Shalt thou sponge through the term beginning ! Yet with the flowing beard I wear. Both ease and grace will fail me there. The attempt, indeed, were a futile strife ; I never could learn the ways of life. I feel so small before others, and thence Should always find embarrassments.'" MEPHISTOPHELES. My friend, thou soon shalt lose all such misgiving : Be thou but self-posaessed, thou hast the art of living! SCENE IV. 83 FAUST. How shall we leave the house, and start ? Where hast thou servant, coach and horses ? MEPHISTOPHELES. We '11 spread this cloak with proper art. Then through the air direct our courses. But only, on so bold a flight. Be sure to have thy luggage light. A httle burning air, which I shall soon prepare us. Above the earth will nimbly bear us. And, if we 're light, we '11 travel swift and clear : I gratulate thee on thy new career!'' 84 P"^"^^- V. AUERBACH'S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG.73 Carousal of Jolly Companions. FROSCH. IS no one laughing? no one drinking? I '11 teach you how to grin, I 'm thinking. To-day you 're like wet straw, so tame ; And usually you 're all aflame. BRANDER. Now that 's your fault ; from you we nothing see. No beastliness and no stupidity. FROSCH. (Pours a glass of wine over Brander's Aead.) There 's both together ! BRANDER. Twice a swine ! FROSCH. You wanted them : I 've given you mine. SIEBEL. Turn out who quarrels — out the door ! With open throat sing chorus, drink and roar ! Up! holla! ho! SCENE V. 85 ALTMAYER. Woe 's me, the fearful bellow ! Bring cotton, quick ! He 's split my ears, that fellow. SIEBEL. When the vault echoes to the song, One first perceives the bass is deep and strong. FROSCH. Well said ! and out with him that takes the least offence ! Ah, tara, lara, da! ALTMAYER. Ah, tara, lara, da ! FROSCH. The throats are tuned, commence ! (Sings.) The dear old holy Roman realm, How does it hold together ? BRANDER. A nasty song ! Fie ! a political song''* — A most offensive song! Thank God, each morning, therefore. That you have not the Roman realm to care for ! At least, I hold it so much gain for me, That I nor Chancellor nor Kaiser be. Yet also we must have a ruling head, I hope. And so we '11 choose ourselves a Pope. You know the quality that can Decide the choice, and elevate the man. FROSCH (sings). Soar up, soar up, Dame Nightingale .■'" Ten thousand times my sweetheart hail! 86 FAUST. SIEBEL. No, greet my sweetheart not ! I tell you, I '11 resent it FROSCH. My sweetheart greet and kiss ! I dare you to prevent it ! (Sings.) Draw the latch ! the darkness makes : Draw the latch ! the lover wakes. Shut the latch ! the morning breaks. SIEBEL. Yes, sing away, sing on, and praise, and brag" of her ! I '11 wait my proper time for laughter : Me by the nose she lead, and now she '11 lead you after. Her paramour should be an ugly gnome, Where four roads cross, in wanton play to meet her : An old he-goat, from Blocksberg coming home. Should his good-night in lustful gallop bleat her! A fellow made of genuine flesh and blood Is for the wench a deal too good. Greet her ? Not I : unless, when meeting, To smash her windows be a greeting ! BRANDER (pounding on the table). Attention ! Hearken now to me ! Confess, Sirs, I know how to live. Enamored persons here have we, And I, as suits their quality, Must something fresh for their advantage give. Take heed ! 'T is of the latest cut, my strain, And all strike in at each refrain ! (He sings.) There was a rat in the cellar-nest,'* Whom fat and butter made smoother : SCENE V. 87 He had a paunch beneath his vest Like that of Doctor Luther. The cook laid poison cunningly, And then as sore oppressed was he As if he had love in his bosom. CHORUS [shouting). ii s if he had love in his bosom ! BRANDER. He ran around, he ran about. His thirst in puddles laving : He gnawed and scratched the house throughout, But nothing cured his raving. He whirled and jumped, with torment mad, And soon enough the poor beast had, As if he had love in his bosom. CHORUS. ' As if he had love in his bosom ! BRANDER. And driven at last, in open day. He ran into the kitchen. Fell on the hearth, and squirming lay. In the last convulsion twitching. Then laughed the murderess in her glee - " Ha ! ha ! he 's at his last gasp," said she. " As if he had love in his bosom ! " CHORUS. As if he had love in his bosom ! SIEBEL. How the dull fools enjoy the matter ' To me it is a proper art Poison for such poor rats to scatter. 88 FAUST. BRANDER. Perhaps you '11 warmly take their part ? ALTMAYER. The bald-pate pot-belly I have noted : Misfortune tames him by degrees ; For in the rat by poison bloated His own most natural form he sees. Faust and Mephistopheles. mephistopheles. Before all else, I bring thee hither Where boon companions meet together, To let thee see how smooth life runs away. Here, for the folk, each day 's a holiday : With little wit, and ease to suit them, They whirl in narrow, circling trails, Like kittens playing with their tails ; And if no headache persecute them. So long the host may credit give, They merrily and careless live. BRANDER. The fact is easy to unravel. Their air's so odd, they've just returned from travel: A single hour they 've not been here. FROSCH. You 've verily hit the truth ! Leipzig to me is deaf : Paris in miniature, how it refines its people!'? SIEBEL. Who are the strangers, should you guess? SCENE V. 89 FROSCH. Let me alone ! I '11 set them first to drinking, And then, as one a child's tooth draws, with cleverness, I '11 worm their secret out, I 'm thinking. They 're of a noble house, that 's very clear : Haughty and discontented they appear. BRANDER. They 're mountebanks, upon a revel. ALTMAYER. Perhaps. FROSCH. Look out, I '11 smoke them now ! mephistopheleS {to Faust), Not if he had them by the neck, I vow. Would e'er these people scent the Devil ! FAUST. Fair greeting, gentlemen ! SIEBEL. Our thanks : we give the same. (Murmurs, inspecting 'yiEPTHiSTO^'amMS from the side.) In one foot is the fellow lame ? MEPHISTOPHELES. Is it permitted that we share your leisure ? In place of cheering drink, which one seeks vainly here. Your company shall give us pleasure. ALTMAYER. A most fastidious person you appear. 90 FA UST. FROSCH. No doubt 't was late when you from Rippach started ?'' And supping there with Hans occasioned your delay ? MEPHISTOPHELES. We passed, without a call, to-day. At our last interview, before we parted Much of his cousins did he speak, entreating That we should give to each his kindly greeting. (He bows to Frosch.) ALTMAYER (aside). You have it now ! he understands. SIEBEL. A knave sharp-set! FROSCH. Just wait awhile : I '11 have him yet. MEPHISTOPHELES. If I am right, we heard the sound Of well-trained voices, singing chorus ; And truly, song must here rebound Superbly from the arches o'er us. FROSCH. Are you, perhaps, a virtuoso? MEPHISTOPHELES. O no ! my wish is great, my power is only so-so. ALTMAYER. Give us a song ! SCENE V. 91 MEPHISTOPHELES. If you desire, a number. SIEBEL. So that it be a bran-new strain ! MEPHISTOPHELES. We 've just retraced our way from Spain, The lovely land of wine, and song, and slumber. There was a king once reigning,™ Who had a big black flea — FROSCH. Hear, hear ! A flea ! D' ye rightly take the jest ? I call a flea a tidy guest. MEPHISTOPHELES {sings). There was a king once reigning. Who had a big black flea, And loved him past explaining. As his own son were he. He called his man of stitches ; The tailor came straightway : Here, measure the lad for breeches, And measure his coat, I say ! BRANDER. But mind, allow the tailor no caprices : Enjoin upon him, as his head is dear. To most exactly measure, sew and shear, So that the breeches have no creases ! 92 FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. In silk and velvet gleaming He now was wholly drest — Had a coat with ribbons streaming, A cross upon his breast. He had the first of stations, A minister's star and name ; And also all his relations Great lords at court became. And the lords and ladies of honor Were plagued, awake and in bed ; The queen she got them upon her, The maids were bitten and bled. And they did not dare to brush them, Or-scratch them, day or night : We crack them and we crush them. At once, whene'er they bite. CHORUS {shouting). We crack them and we crush them, At once, whene'er they bite ! FROSCH. Bravo ! bravo ! that was fine. SIEBEL. Every flea may it so befall ! BRANDER. Point your fingers and nip them all ! ALTMAYER. Hurrah for Freedom ! Hurrah for wine ! SCENE V. 9i MEPHISTOPHELES. I fain would drink with you, my glass to Freedom clinking, If 't were a better wine that here I see you drinking. SIEBEL. Don't let us hear that speech again ! MEPHISTOPHELES. ■Did I not fear the landlord might complain, I 'd treat these worthy guests, with pleasure, To some from out our cellar's treasure. SIEBEL. Just treat, and let the la.ndlord me arraign ! FROSCH. , And if the wine be good, our praises shall be ample. But do not give too very small a sample ; For, if its quality I decide. With a good mouthful I must be supplied. ALTMAYER {aside). They 're from the Rhine J I guessed as much, before. MEPHISTOPHELES. Bring me a gimlet here ! BRANDER. What shall therewith be done ? You 've not the casks already at the door ? ALTMAYER. Yonder, within the landlord's box of tools, there 's one I 94 FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES {takes the gimlet). (TiFROSCH.) Now, giye me of your taste some intimation. FROSCH. How do you mean ? Have you so many kinds ? MEPHISTOPHELES. The choice is free : make up your minds. « ALTMAYER {to FROSCh). Aha ! you lick your chops, from sheer anticipation. FROSCH. Good ! if I have the choice, so let the wine he Rhenish ! Our Fatherland can best the sparkling cup replenish. MEPHISTOPHELES [boring a hole in the edge of the table, at the place where Frosch sits). Get me a little wax, to make the stoppers, quick !' ALTMAYER. Ah ! I perceive a juggler's trick. MEPHISTOPHELES {to BrANDER). And you ? BRANDER. Champagne shall be my wine, And let it sparkle fresh and fine ! SCENE V. 95 MEPHISTOPHELES [lores: in the mean time one has made the wax stoppers, and plugged the holes with them). BRANDER. What 's foreign one can't always keep quite clear of, For good things, oft, are not so near ; A German can't endure the French to see or hear of,*" Yet drinks their wines with hearty cheer. SIEBEL [as MEPHISTOPHELES approaches his seat). For me, I grant, sour wine is out of place ; Fill up my glass with sweetest, will you ? MEPHISTOPHELES {ioritlg). . Tokay shall flow at once, to fill you ! ALTMAYER. No — look me, Sirs, straight in the face ! I see you have your fun at our expense. MEPHISTOPHELES. O no ! with gentlemen of such pretence. That were to venture far, indeed. Speak out, and make your choice with speed ! With what a vintage can I serve you ? ALTMAYER. With any — only satisfy our need. (After the holes have been bored and plugged. ) MEPHISTOPHELES [with singular gestures). Grapes the vine-stem bears. Horns the he-goat wears ! 96 FAUST. ■ The grapes are juicy, the vines are wood, The wooden table gives wine as good ! Into the depths of Nature peer, — Only believe, there 's a miracle here ! Now draw the stoppers, and drink your fill ! ^' ALL {as they draw out the stoppers, and the wine which has been desired flows into the glass of each). O beautiful fountain, that flows at will ! MEPHISTOPHELES. But have a care, that you nothing spill 1 ( They drink repeatedly.) ALL [sing). As 't were five hundred hogs, we feel So cannibalic jolly ! MEPHISTOPHELES. See, now, the race is happy — it is free! FAUST. \ To leave them is my inclination. MEPHISTOPHELES. Take notice, first ! their bestiality Will make a brilliant demonstration. SIEBEL (drinks carelessly : the wine spills upon the earth, and iurtts to flame). Help! Fire! Help! Hell-fire is sent ! "1 SCENE V. 97 MEPHISTOPHELES {charming away the flame). Be quiet, friendly element ! ( To the revellers.) A bit of purgatory 't was for this time, merely.' SIEBEL. What mean you ? Wait ! — you '11 pay for 't dearly ! You '11 know us, to your detriment. FROSCH. Don't try that game a second time upon us 1 ALTMAYER. I think we 'd better send him packing quietly. SIEBEL. What, Sir ! you dare to make so free, And play your hocus-pocus on us ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Be still, old wine-tub. SIEBEL. Broomstick, you ! You face it out, impertinent and heady? BRANDER. Just wait ! a shower of blows is ready. ALTMAYER {draws a staffer out of the table: fireflies in his face). I burn ! I burn ! SIEBEL. 'T is magic ! Strike — The knave is outlawed ! Cut him as you like ! ( They draw their knives, and rush ufon Mephistopheles.) VOL. I. S ^ 98 FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES (with solemn gestures). False word and form of air, Change place, and sense ensnare ! ** Be here — and there ! ( They stand amazed and look at each other.) ALTMAYER. Where am I ? What a lovely land ! FROSCH. Vines ? Can I trust my eyes ? SIEBEL. And purple grapes at hand ! BRANDER. Here, over this green arbor bending, See, what a vine ! what grapes depending ! (He takes SlEBEL by the nose : the others do the same recipro- cally, and raise their knives.) MEPHISTOPHELES {as above). Loose, Error, from their eyes the band. And how the Devil jests, be now enlightened ! {He disappears with Faust : the revellers start and separate. ) SIEBEL. What happened ? ALTMAYER. How? FROSCH. Was that your nose I tightened ? SCENE: V. 99, BRANDER ifo SlEBEL). And yours that still I have in hand ? ALTMAYER. It was a blow that went through every limb ! Give me a chair ! I sink ! my senses swim. FROSCH. But what has happened, tell me now ? SIEBEL. Where is he ? If I catch the scoundrel hiding, He shall not leave alive, I vow. ALTMAYER. I saw him with these eyes upon a wine-cask riding Out of the cellar-door, just now. Still in, my feet the fright like lead is Weighing. (He turns towards the table ) Why ! If the fount of wine should still be playing ? SIEBEL. 'T was all deceit, and lying, false design ! FROSCH. And yet it seemed as I were drinking wine. BRANDER. But with the grapes how was it, pray ? ALTMAYER. Shall one believe no miracles, just say ! FAUST. VI. WITCHES' KITCHEN.83 \U^on a low hearth stands a great caldron, under which afire is burning. Various figures appear in the vapors which rise from the caldron. An ape sits beside it, skims it, and watches lest it boil over. The he-ape, with the young ones, sits tiear and warms himself. Ceiling and walls are covered with the most fantastic witch-implements.] Faust. Mephistopheles. FAUST. THESE crazy signs of witches' craft repel me ! I shall recover, dost thou tell me, Through this insane, chaotic play? From an old hag shall I demand assistance ? And will her foul mess take away Full thirty years from my existence ? ** Woe 's me, canst thou naught better find ! Another baffled hope must be lamented : Has Nature, then, and has a noble mind Not any potent balsam yet invented? MEPHISTOPHELES. Once more, my friend, thou talkest sensibly. There is, to make thee young, a simpler mode and apter; But in another book 't is writ for thee, And is a most eccentric chapter. FAUST. Yet will I know it. SCENE VI, MEPHISTOPHELES. Good ! the method is revealed Without or gold or magic or physician. Betake thyself to yonder field, There hoe and dig, as thy condition ; Restrain thyself, thy sense and will Within a narrow sphere to flourish ; With unmixed food thy body nourish ; Live with the ox as ox, and think it not a theft That thou manur'st the acre which thou reapest ; — That, trust me, is the best mode left, Whereby for eighty years thy youth thou keepest ! FAUST. I am not used to that ; I cannot stoop to try it — To take the spade in hand, and ply it. The narrow being suits me not at all. MEPHISTOPHELES. Then to thine aid the witch must call. Wherefore the hag, and her alone ? Canst thou thyself not brew the potion ? MEPHISTOPHELES. That were a charming sport, I own : I 'd build a thousand bridges meanwhile, I 've a notion. Not Art and Science serve, alone ; Patience must in the work be shown. Long is the calm brain active in creation ; Time, only, strengthens the fine fermentation. And all, belonging thereunto. Is rare and strange, howe'er you take it : The Devil taught the thing, 't is true. And yet the Devil cannot make it. 102 . FAUST. (Perceiving the Animals.') See, what a delicate race they be ! That is the maid ! the man is he ! ( To the Animals. ) It seems the mistress has gone away? THE ANIMALS. Carousing, to-day ! Off and about, By the chimney out ! MEPHISTOPHELES. What time takes she for dissipating? THE ANIMALS. While we to warm our paws are waiting. MEPHISTOPHELES (to FaUST). How findest thou the tender creatures ? FAUST. Absurder than I ever yet did see. MEPHISTOPHELES. Why, just such tallc as this, for me. Is that which has the most attractive features ! ( To the Animals. ) But tell me now, ye cursdd puppets, Why do ye stir the porridge so ? THE ANIMALS. We 're cooking watery soup for beggars.^s MEPHISTOPHELES. Then a great public you can show. SCENE VI. 103 THE HE-APE (comes up and fawns on Mephistopheles). O cast thou the dice ! Make me rich in a trice, Let me win in good season ! Things are badly controlled, And had I but gold, So had I my reason. MEPHISTOPHELES. How would the ape be sure his luck enhances. Could he but try the lottery's chances ! (/« the mean time the young apes have been playing with a large ball, which they now roll forward.) THE HE-APE. The world 's the ball f Doth rise and fall. And roll incessant : Like glass doth ring, A hollow thing, — How soon will 't spring, And drop, quiescent ? Here bright it gleams. Here brighter seems : I live at present ! Dear son, I say. Keep thou away ! Thy doom is spoken ! 'T is made of clay, And will be broken. MEPHISTOPHELES. What means the sieve ? I04 FAUST. THE HE- APE [taking it down). Wert thou the thief,8« I 'd know him and shame him. (He runs to the She- Ape, and lets her look through it.) Look through the sieve ! Know'st thou the thief, And darest not name him ? MEPHISTOPHELES (approaching the fire). And what 's this pot ? HE-APE AND SHE-APE. The fool knows it not ! He knows not the pot, He knows not the kettle ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Impertinent beast ! THE HE-APE. Take the brush here, at least, And sit down on the settle ! (He invites MEPHISTOPHELES to sit down.) FAUST (a/^o during all this time has been standing before a mirr'or, now approaching and now retreating from it). What do I see ? What heavenly form revealed^? Shows through the glass from Magic's fair dominions ! O lend me, Love, the swiftest of thy pinions. And bear me to her beauteous field ! Ah, if I leave this spot with fond designing, If I attempt to venture near, Dim, as through gathering mist, her charms appear ! — SCENE VI. I OS A ■woman's form, in beauty shining ! Can woman, then, so lovely be ? And must I find her body, there reclining, Of all the heavens the bright epitome ? Can Earth with such a thing be mated ? MEPHISTOPHELES. Why, surely, if a God first plagues Himself six days, Then, self-contented, Bravo ! says, Must something clever be created. This time, thine eyes be satiate ! I '11 yet detect thy sweetheart and ensnare her. And blest is he, who has the lucky fate. Some day, as bridegroom, home to bear her. (Faust gazes continually in the mirror. Mephistopheles, stretching himself out on the settle^ and playing with the brushy continues to speak.) So sit I, like the King upon his throne : I hold the sceptre, here, — and lack the crown alone. THE ANIMALS {who up to this time have been making all kinds of fantastic movements together, bring u. crown to Mephistophelks vjith great noise) . O be thou so good With sweat and with blood The crown to belime ! {They handle the crown awkwardly and break it into twa pieces, with which they spring around.) 'T is done, let it be ! We speak and we see, We hear and we rhyme ! ^ FAUST {before the mirror). Woe 's me ! I fear to lose my wits. 5* io6 FAUSr. MEPHISTOPHELES (pointing to the Animals). My own head, now, is really nigh to sinking. THE ANIMALS. If lucky our hits, And everything fits, 'T is thoughts, and we 're thinking! FAUST (as above). My bosom burns with that sweet vision ; Let us, with speed, away from here ! MEPHISTOPHELES (in the same attitude). One must, at least, make this admission — They 're poets, genuine and sincere. ( The caldron, which the She-Ape has up to this time neglected to watch, begins to boil over : there ensues a great ftame, which blazes out the chimney. The Witch comes careering down through the flame, with terrible cries.) THE WITCH. Ow ! ow ! ow ! ow ! The damned beast — the cursdd sow ! To leave the kettle, and singe the Frau ! Accursed fere ! (Perceiving Faust and MEPHISTOPHELES.) What is that here ? Who are you here ? What want you thus ? • Who sneaks to us ? The fire-pain Burn bone and brain ! (She plunges the skimming-ladle into the caldron, and scatters flames towards Faust, Mephistopheles, and the Ani- mals. The Animals whimper^ SCENE VI. 107 MEPHISTOPHELES [reversing the brush, which he has been holding in his hand, and striking among the jars and glasses) . In two ! in two ! There lies the brew ! There lies the glass ! The joke will pass, As time, foul ass ! To the singing of thy crew. (As the Witch starts back, full of wrath and horror :) Ha ! know'st thou me ? Abomination, thou ! Know'st thou, at last, thy Lord and Master? What hinders me from smiting now Thee and thy monkey-sprites with fell disaster? Hast for the scarlet coat no reverence ? Dost recognize no more the tall cock'^f eather ? Have I concealed this countenance ? — Must tell my name, old face of leather ? THE WITCH. O pardon. Sir, the rough salute ! Yet I perceive no doven foot ; And both your ravens, where are they now ? MEPHISTOPHELES. This time, I '11 let thee 'scape the debt ; For since we two together met, 'T is verily full many a day now. Culture, which smooth the whole world licks. Also unto the Devil sticks. The days of that old Northern phantom now are over : Where canst thou horns and tail and claws discover ? And, as regards the foot, which I can't spare, in truth, 'T would only make the people shun me ; lo8 FAUST. Therefore I 've worn, like many a spindly youth, False calves these many years upon me. THE WITCH (dancing). Reason and sense forsake my brain, Since I behold Squire Satan here again ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Woman, from such a name refrain ! THE WITCH. Why so ? What has it done to thee ? MEPHISTOPHELES. It 's long been written in the Book of Fable ; *« Yet, therefore, no whit better men we see : The Evil One has left, the evil ones are stable. Sir Baron call me thou, then is the matter good ; A cavalier am I, Hke others in my bearing. Thou hast no doubt about my noble blood : See, here 's the coat-of-arms that I am wearing ! {fle makes an indecent gesture.) THE WITCH (laughs immoderately). Ha ! ha ! That 's just your way, I know : A rogue you are, and you were always so. MEPHISTOPHELES [fo FAUST). My friend, take proper heed, I pray ! To manage witches, this is just the way. THE WITCH. Wherein, Sirs, can I be of use ? MEPHISTOPHELES. . Give us a goblet of the well- known juice ! SCENE VI. 109 But, I must beg you, of the oldest brewage ; The years a double strength produce. THE WITCH. With all my heart ! Now, here 's a bottle, Wherefrom, sometimes, I wet my throttle, Which, also, not the slightest, stinks ; And willingly a glass I '11 fill him. ( Whispering^ Yet, if this man without due preparation drinks, As well thou know'st, within an hour 't will kill him. MEPHISTOPHELES. He is a friend of mine, with whom it will agree, And he deserves thy kitchen's best potation : Come, draw thy circle, speak thine adjuration, And fiU thy goblet full and free ! •• THE WITCH \^ith fantastic gestures draws a circle and places mysterious ar- ticles therein ; meanwhile the glasses begin to ring, the caldron to sound, and make a musical accompanitnent. Finally she brings a great book, and stations in the circle the Apes, who are obliged to serve as reading-desk, and to hold the torches. She then beckons Faust to approach). FAUST (to MEPHISTOPHELES). Now, what shall come of this ? the creatures antic, The crazy stuff, the gestures frantic, — All the repulsive cheats I view, — Are known to me, and hated, too. MEPHISTOPHELES. O, nonsense ! That 's a thing for laughter ; Don't be so terribly severe ! lO FAUST. She juggles you as doctor now, that, after, The beverage may work the proper cheer. (He persuades Faust to step into the circle) THE WITCH (begins to declaim, with much emphasis, from the booh). See, thus it 's done ! Make ten of one,. And two let be. Make even three, And rich thou 'It be. Cast o'er the four ! From five and six (The witch's tricks) Make seven and eight, 'T is finished straight ! And nine is one, And ten is none. This is the witch's once-one's-one ! 9° FAUST. She talks like one who raves in fever. MEPHISTOPHELES. Thou 'It hear much more before we leave her. 'T is all the same : the book I can repeat, Such time I 've squandered o'er the history : A contradiction thus complete '' Is always for the wise, no less than fools, a mystery. The art is old and new, for verily All ages have been taught the matter, — By Three and One, and One and Three, Error instead of Truth to scatter. They prate and teach, and no one interferes ; All from the fellowship of fools are shrinking. SCENE VI. Ill Man usually believes, if only words he hears, That also with them goes material for thinking ! THE WITCH [continues). The lofty skill Of Science, still From all men deeply hidden ! Who takes no thought. To him 't is brought, 'T is given unsought, unbidden ! FAUST. What nonsense she declaims before us ! My head is nigh to split, I fear : It seems to me as if I hear A hundred thousand fools in chorus. MEPHISTOPHELES. * O Sibyl excellent, enough of adjuration ! But hither bring us thy potation. And quickly fill the beaker to the brim ! This drink will bring my friend no injuries : He is a man of manifold degrees, And many draughts are known to him. I The Witch, with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a cup ; as Faust sets it to his lips, a light flame arises.) Down with it quickly ! Drain it off ! 'T will warm thy heart with new desire : Art with the Devil hand and glove. And wilt thou be afraid of fire ? (The Witch breaks the circle: Faust steps forth.) MEPHISTOPHELES And now, away ! Thou dar'st not rest. H2 FAUST. THE WITCH. And much good may the liquor do thee ! MEPHISTOPHELES (to theV^lTCO). Thy wish be on Walpurgis Night expressed ; What boon I have, shall then be given unto thee. THE WITCH. Here is a song, which, if you sometimes sing, You '11 find it of pecuhar operation. MEPHISTOPHELES [to FaUST). Come, walk at once ! A rapid occupation Must start the needful perspiration, And through thy frame the liquor's potence fling. The noble indolence I 'U teach thee then to treasure,'' And soon thou 'It be aware, with keenest thrills of pleasure, How Cupid stirs and leaps, on light and restless wing. FAUST. One rapid glance within the mirror give me. How beautiful that woman-form ! MEPHISTOPHELES. No, no ! The paragon of all, believe me, Thou soon shalt see, alive and warm. (Aside.) Thou 'It find, this drink thy blood compelling, Each woman beautiful as Helen 1 SC£NE VII. "3 VII . A STREET. Faust. Margaret (passing by). FAIR lady, let it not offend you, That arm and escort I would lend you ! MARGARET.S3 I 'm neither lady, neither fair. And home I can go without yoflr care. \She releases herself^ and exit. FAUST. By Heaven, the girl is wondrous fair ! Of all I 've seen, beyond compare ; So sweetly virtuous and pure, And yet a little pert, be sure ! The lip so red, the cheek's clear dawn, I '11 not forget while the world rolls on ! How she cast down her timid eyes, Deep in my heart imprinted lies : How short and sharp of speech was she,'* Why, 't was a real ecstasy ! (Mephistopheles enters.) FAUST. Hear, of that girl I 'd have possession ! H 114 ■FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. Which, then ? FAUST. The one who just went by. MEPHISTOPHELES. She, there ? She 's coming from confession, Of every sin absolved ; for I, Behind her chair, was listening nigh. So innocent is she, indeed, That to confess she had no need. I have no power o'er souls so grefin. FAUST. And yet, she 's older than fourteen. MEPHISTOPHELES. How now ! You 're talking like Jack Rake, Who every flower for himself would take, And fancies there are no favors more. Nor honors, save for him in store ; Yet always does n't the thing succeed. FAUST. Most Worthy Pedagogue, take heed ! ^ Let not a word of moral law be spoken ! I claim, I tell thee, all my right ; And if that image of delight Rest not within mine arms to-night, At midnight is our compact broken. MEPHISTOPLELES. But think, the chances of the case ! I need, at least, a fortnight's space, To find an opportune occasion. SCENE vn. FAUST. Had I but seven hours for all, I should not on the Devil call, But win her by my own persuasion. MEPHISTOPHELES. You almost like a Frenchman prate ; Yet, pray, don't take it as annoyance ! Why, all at once, exhaust the joyance ? Your bliss is by no means so great As if you 'd use, to get control, All sorts of tender rigmarole. And knead and shape her to your thought, As in Italian tales 't is taught.«* FAUST. Without that, I have appetite. MEPHISTOPHELES. But now, leave jesting out of sight ! I tell you, once for all, that speed With this fair girl will not succeed ; By storm she cannot captured be ; We must make use of strategy. FAUST. Get me something the angel keeps ! Lead me thither where she sleeps ! Get me a kerchief from her breast, — A garter that her knee has pressed ! MEPHISTOPHELES. That you may see how much I 'd fain Further and satisfy your pain. We will no longer lose a minute ; I '11 find her room to-day, and take you in it. "5 Il6 FAUST. FAUST. And shall I see — possess her? MEPHISTOPHELES. No! Unto a neighbor she must go, And meanwhile thou, alone, mayst glow With every hope of future pleasure. Breathing her atmosphere in fullest measure. FAUST. Can we go thither ? MEPHISTOPHELES. 'T is too early yet. FAUST. A gift for her I bid thee get ! {Exit. MEPHISTOPHELES. Presents at once ? , That 's good : he 's certain to get at her! Full many a pleasant place I know. And treasures, buried long ago : I must, perforce, look up the matter. \Exit SCENE VIII. "7 VIII. EVENING. A Small, neatly kept Chamber. ' MARGARET (plaiting and binding up the braids of her hair). T 'D something give, could I but say ••- Who was that gentleman, to-day. Surely a gallant man was he. And of a noble family ; So much could I in his face behold, — And he would n't, else, have been so bold ! \JExit. Mephistopheles. Faust. mephistopheles. Come in, but gently : follow me ! FAUST (after a moments silence'). Leave me alone, I beg of thee ! MEPHISTOPHELES [frying about). Not every girl keeps things so neat. FAUST (looking around). O welcome, twilight soft and sweet," That breathes throughout this hallowed shrine ! Sweet pain of love, bind thou with fetters fleet The heart that on the dew of hope must pine ! Il8 FAUST. How all around a sense impresses Of quiet, order, and content ! This poverty what bounty blesses ! What bliss within this narrow den is pent ! (He throws himself into a leathern arm-chair near the bed.) Receive me, thou, that in thine open arms Departed joy and pain wert wont to gather ! How oft the children, with their ruddy charms,. Hung here, around this throne, where sat the father ! Perchance my love, amid the childish band. Grateful for gifts the Holy Christmas gave her. Here meekly kissed the grandsire's withered hand; I feel, O maid ! thy very soul • Of order and content around me whisper, — Which leads thee with its motherly control. The cloth upon thy board bids smoothly thee unroll. The sand beneath thy feet makes whiter, crisper. O dearest hand, to thee 't is given To change this hut into a lower heaven ! And here ! {He lifts one of the bed-curtains.) What svveetest thrill is in my blood ! Here could I spend whole hours, delaying : Here Nature shaped, as if in sportive playing, The angel blossom from the bud. Here lay the child, with Life's warm essence The tender bosom filled and fair, And here was wrought, through holier, purer presence, The form diviner beings wear ! And I ? What drew nie here with power ? How deeply am I moved, this hour ! SCENE VIII. 1 19 What seek I ? Why so full my heart, and sore?' Miserable Faust ! I know thee now no more. Is there a magic vapor here? I came, with lust of instant pleasure. And lie dissolved in dreams of love's sweet leisure ! Are we the sport of every changeful atmosphere ? And if, this moment, came she in to me. How would I for the fault atonement render ! How small the giant lout would be, Prone at her feet, relaxed and tender ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Be quick ! I see her there, returning. FAUST. , Go ! go ! I never will retreat. MEPHISTOPHELES. Here is a casket, not unmeet, Which elsewhere I have just been earning. Here, set it in the press, with haste ! I swear, 't will turn her head, to spy it : Some baubles I therein had placed, That you might win another by it. True, child is child, and play is play. FAUST. I know not, should I do it.?'^ MEPHISTOPHELES. Ask you, pray ? Yourself, perhaps, would keep the bubble ? Then I suggest, 't were fair and just , FAUST. To spare the lovely day your lust, And spare to me the further trouble. - You are not miserly, I trust ? I rub my hands, in expectation tender — (He f laces the casket in the press, and locks it again.) Now quick, away ! The sweet young maiden to betray. So that by wish and will you bend her ; And you look as though To the lecture-haU you were forced to go, — As if stood before you, gray and loath. Physics and Metaphysics both ! But away ! \Exettnt MARGARET [with a lamp). It is so close, so sultry, here ! (She opens the window. ) And yet 't is not so warm outside. I feel, I know not why, such fear ! — Would mother came ! — where can she bide? My body 's chill and shuddering, — I 'm but a silly, fearsome thing ! (She begins to sing, while undressing.) There was a King in Thule," Was faithful till the grave, — To whom his mistress, dying, A golden goblet gave. Naught was to him more precious ; He drained it at every bout : His eyes with tears ran over, As oft as he drank thereout. SCENE VIII. 121 When came his time of dying, The towns in, his land he told, Naught else to his heir denying Except the goblet of gold. He sat at the royal banquet With his knights of high degree, In tlie lofty hall of his fathers In the Castle by the Sea. There stood the. oldcarouser. And drank the last life-glow ; And hurled the hallowed goblet Into the tide below. He saw it plunging and filling. And sinking deep in the sea :_ Then fell his eyehds forever. And never more drank he ! [She of ens the press in order to arrange her clothes, and per- ceives the casket of jewels. ) How comes that lovely casket here to me ? I locked the press, most certainly. 'T is truly wonderful ! What can within it be ? Perhaps 't was brought by some one as a pawn, And mother gave a loan thereon ?_ And here there hangs a key to fit: I have a mind to open it. What is that ? God in Heaven ! Whence came Such things? Never beheld I aught so fair ! Rich ornaments, such as a noble dame On highest holidays might wear ! How would the pearl-chain suit my hair? Ah, who may all this splendor own ? VOL. I. 6 122 FAUST. (She adorns herself with the jewelry, and steps before the mirror^ Were but the ear-rings mine, alone ! One has at once another air. What helps one's beauty, youthful blood ? One may possess them, well and good ; But none the more do others eare. They praise us half in pity, sure : To gold still tends, On gold depends All, all ! Alas, we poor ! SCENE IX. 123 IX. PROMENADE. (Faust, walking thoughtfully up and down. To him Mephis- TOPHELES.) MEPHISTOPHELES. T) Y all love ever rejected ! By hell-fire hot and un- •'-' sparing ! I wish I knew something worse, that I might use it for swearing ! FAUST. ^ What ails thee ? What is 't gripes thee, elf ? A face like thine beheld I never. MEPHISTOPHELES. I would myself unto the Devil deliver, If I were not a Devil myself ! Thy head is out of order, sadly : It much becomes thee to be raving madly. MEPHISTOPHELES. Just think, the pocket of a priest should get The trinkets left for Margaret ! The mother saw them, and, instanter, A secret dread began to haunt her. Keen scent has she for tainted air ; She snuffs within her book of prayer. 124 FAUST. And smells each article, to see If sacred or profane it be ; So here she guessed, from every gem. That not much blessing came with them. " My child," she said, " ill-gotten good Ensnares the soul, consumes the blood. Before the Mother of God we 11 lay it ; With heavenly manna she '11 repay it ! ""» But Margaret thought, with sour grimace, " A gift-horse is not out of place, And, truly ! godless cannot be The one who brought such things to me." A parson came, by the mother bidden : He saw, at once, where the game was hidden, And viewed it with a favor stealthy. He spake : " That is the proper view, — Who overcometh, winneth too. The Holy Church has a stomach healthy : Hath eaten many a land as forfeit. And never yet complained of surfeit : The Church alone, beyond all question. Has for ill-gotten goods the right digestion." FAUST. A general practice is the same, Which Jew and King may also claim. MEPHISTOPHELES. Then bagged the spangles, chains, and rings, As if but toadstools were the things. And thanked no less, and thanked no more Than if a sack of nuts he bore, — Promised them fullest heavenly pay, And deeply edified were they. And Margaret ? SCENE IX. FAUST. 125 MEPHISTOPHELES. Sits unrestful still, And knows not what she should, or will ; Thinks on the jewels, day and night, But more on him who gave her such delight FAUST. The darling's sorrow gives me pain. Get thou a set for her again ! The first was not a great display. MEPHISTOPHELES. O yes, the gentleman finds it all child's-play ! i, FAUST. Fix and arrange it to my will ; And on her neighbor try thy skill ! Don't be a Devil stiif as paste, But get fresh jewels to her taste ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Yes, gracious Sir, in all obedience ! \Exit Faust. Such an enamored fool in air would blow Sun, moon, and all the starry legions, To give his sweetheart a diverting show. \Exit. 126 FAUST. X. THE NEIGHBOR'S HOUSE."' MARTHA (solus). GOD forgive my husband, yet he Has n't done his duty by me ! Off in the world he went straightway, — . Left me lie in the straw where I lay, And, truly, I did naught to fret hira : God knows I loved, and can't forget him ! \She weeps.) Perhaps he 's even dead ! Ah, woe ! — Had I a certificate to show ! MARGARET (comes). Dame Martha ! MARTHA. Margaret ! what 's happened thee ? MARGARET. I scarce can stand, my knees are trembling ! I find a box, the first resembling, Within my press ! Of ebony, — And things, all splendid to behold. And richer far than were the old. MARTHA. You must n't tell it to your mother ! 'T would go to the priest, as did the other. SCENE X. 127 MARGARET. Ah, look and see — just look and see ! MARTHA (adorning her). O, what a blessed luck for thee ! MARGARET. But, ah ! in the streets 1 dare not bear them. Nor in the church be seen to wear them. MARTHA. Yet thou canst often this way wander. And secretly the jewels don. Walk up and down an hour, before the mirror yonder, — We '11 have our private joy thereon. And then a chance will come, a holiday, When, piece by piece, can one the things, abroad display, A chain at first, then other ornament : Thy mother will not see, and stories we 'II invent. MARGARET. Whoever could have "brought me thipgs so precious ? That something 's wrong, I feel suspicious. (A knock.) Good Heaven ! My mother can that have been ? MARTHA (peeping through the blind). 'T is some strange gentleman. — Come in ! (Mephistopheles enters.) MEPHISTOPHELES. That I so boldly introduce me, I beg you, ladies, to excuse me. 128 FAUST. (Steps back reverently, on seeing Margaret.) For Martha Schwerdtlein I 'diriqtiire ! MARTHA. I 'm she : what does the gentleman de&e ? MEPHISTOPHELES (aside to her). It is enough that you are she : You 've a visitor of high degree. Pardon the freedom I have ta'en, — Will after noon return again. MARTHA (aloud). Of all things in the world ! Just hear — He takes thee for a lady, dear ! MARGARET. I am a creature young and podr : The gentleman 's too kind, I 'm sure. The jewels don't belong to me. MEPHISTOPHELES. Ah, not alone the jewelry ! The look, the manner, both betray — Rejoiced ani I that I may stay ! MARTHA. What is your business .' I would fain — MEPHISTOPHELES. I would I had a more cheerful strain ! Take not unkindly its repeating : Your husband 's dead, and sends a greeting. SCENE X. I2g MARTHA. Is dead ? Alas, that heart so true ! My husband dead ! Let me die, too ! MARGARET. Ah, dearest dame, let not your courage fail ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Hear me relate the mournful tale ! MARGARET. Therefore I 'd never love, believe me ! A loss like this to death would grieve me. MEPHISTOPHELES. Joy follows woe, woe after joy comes flyjng. MARTHA. Relate his life's sad close to me ! MEPHISTOPHELES. In Padua buried, he is lying Beside the good Saint Antony, ■<» Within a grave well consecrated, For cool, eternal rest created. MARTHA. He gave you, further, no commission ? MEPHISTOPHELES. Yes, one of weight, with many sighs : Three hundred masses buy, to save him from perdition ! My hands are empty, otherwise. 6* I 130 FAUST. MARTHA. What ! Not a pocket-piece ? no jewelry ? What every journeyman within his wallet spares, And as a token with him bears, And rather starves or begs, than loses ? MEPHISTOPHELES. Madam, it is a grief to me ; Yet, on my word, his cash was put to proper uses. Besides, his penitence was very sore. And he lamented his ill fortune aU the more. MARGARET. Alack, that men are so unfortunate ! Surely for his soul's sake full many a prayer I '11 proffer. MEPHISTOPHELES. You well deserve a speedy marriage-offer : You are so kind, compassionate. MARGARET. O, no ! As yet, it would not do. MEPHISTOPHELES. If not a husband, then a beau for you ! It is the greatest heavenly blessing, To have a dear thing for one's caressing. MARGARET. The country's custom is not so. MEPHISTOPHELES. Custom, or not ! It happens, though. SCENE X. 131 Continue, pray I MEPHISTOPHELES. I stood beside his bed of dying. 'T was something better than manure, — Half-rotten straw : and yet, he died a Christian, sure. And found that heavier scores to his account were lying. He cried : " I find my conduct wholly hateful ! To leave my wife, my trade, in manner so ungrateful ! Ah, the remembrance makes me die ! Would of my wrong to her I might be shriven ! " MARTHA (weeping). The dear, good man ! Long since was he forgiven. MEPHISTOPHELES. " Yet she, God knows ! was more to blame than 1." * MARTHA. He lied ! What ! On the brink of death he slandered ? MEPHISTOPHELES. In the last throes his senses wandered, If I such things but half can judge. He said : " I had no time for play, for gaping freedom ; First children, and then work for bread to feed 'em, — For bread, in the widest sense, to drudge, And could not even eat my share in peace and quiet ! " MARTHA. Had he all love, all faith forgotten in his riot ? My work and worry, day and night ? MEPHISTOPHELES. Not so : the memory of it touched him quite. Said he : " When I from Malta went away J ^2 FAUST. My prayers for wife and little ones were zealous, And such a luck from Heaven befell us, We made a Turkish merchantman our prey. That to the Soldan bore a mighty treasure. Then I received, as was most fit. Since bravery was paid in fullest raeaSUrci My well-apportioned share of it." MARTHA. Say, how ? Say, where ? If buried, did he own it ? MEPHISTOPHELES. Who knows, now, whither the four winds have blown it? A fair young damsel took him in her care. As he in Naples wandered round, unfriended; And she much love, much faith to him did bear. So that he felt it till his days were ended. MARTHA. The villain ! From his children thieving ! Even all the misery on him cast Could not prevent his shameful way of living ! MEPHISTOPHELES. But see ! He 's dead therefrom, at last. Were I rayour place, do not doubt me, I 'd mourn him decently a year, And for another keep, meanwhile, my eyes about me. MARTHA. Ah, God ! another one so dear As was my first, this world will hardly give me. There never was a sweeter fool than mine. Only he loved to roam and leave me. And foreign wenches and foreign wine. And the damned throw of dice, indeed. SCENE X. 133 mephistoPheles. Well, well ! That might have done, however, If he had only been as clever. And treated your slips with as little heed. I swear, with this condition, too, I would, myself, change rings with you. MARTHA. The gentleman is pleased to jest. MEPHISTOPHELES [aside). I '11 cut away, betimes, from here : \ She 'd take the Devil at his word, I fear. / (To Margaret.) How fares the heart within your breast ? MARGARET. What means the gentleman ? MEPHISTOPHELES (aside). Sweet innocent, thou art ! (Aloud.) Ladies, farewell ! MARGARET. Farewell ! MARTHA. A moment, ere we part! I 'd like to have a legal witness. Where, how, and when he died, to certify with fitness. Irregular ways I 've always hated ; I want his death in the weekly paper stated."' MEPHISTOPHELES. Yes, my good dame, a pair of witnesses Always the truth establishes. 134 FAUST. I have a friend of high condition, Who '11 also add his deposition. I 'II bring him here. MARTHA. Good Sir, pray do ! MEPHISTOPHELES. And this young lady will be present, too ? A gallant youth ! has travelled far : Ladies with him delighted are. MARGARET. Before him I should blush, ashamed. MEPHISTOPHELES. Before no king that could be named ! MARTHA. Behind the house, in my garden, then, This eve we 'II expect the gentlemen. SCENE XI. 135 H XI. STREET. Faust. Mephistopheles. FAUST. OW is it ? under way ? and soon complete ? MEPHISTOPHELES. Ah, bravo ! Do I find you burning t Well, Margaret soon will still your yearning : At Neighbor Martha's you '11 this evening meet. A fitter woman ne'er was made * To ply the pimp and gypsy trade ! FAUST. 'T is well. MEPHISTOPHELES. Yet something is required from us. FAUST. One service pays the other thus. MEPHISTOPHELES. We 've but to make a deposition valid That now her husband's hmbs, outstretched and pallid. At Padua rest, in consecrated soil. FAUST. Most wise ! And first, of course, we '11 make the jour- ney thither ? 13-5 FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. Sancta simplicitas ! no need of such a toil ; Depose, with knowledge or without it, either FAUST. If you 've naught better, then, I '11 tear your pretty plan ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Now, there your are ! O holy man ! Is it the first time in your life you 're driven , j To bear false witness in a case ? Of God, the world and all that in it has a place, Of Man, and all that moves the being of his race, Have you not terms and definitions given With brazen forehead, daring breast ? And, if you '11 probe the thing profoundly. Knew you so much — and you '11 confess it roundly ! — As here of Schwerdtlein's death and place of rest ? FAUST. Thou art, and thou reihain'st, a sophist, liar. MEPHISTOP HELES . Yes, kneiv I riot more deeply thy desire. For wilt thou not, no lover fairer, Poor Margaret flatter, and ensnare her. And all thy soul's devotion swear her ? FAUST. And from my heart. MEPHISTOPHELES. 'T is very fine ! Thine endless love, thy faith assuring, The Oh'e almighty folrce enduring, — Will that, too; prompt this heart of thine .'' SCENE XI. FAUST. 137 Hold ! hold ! It will ! — If sitch my flame, And for the sense and power intense I seek, and cannot find, a name ; ! Then range with all my senses through creation, | Craving the speech of inspiration, | And call this ardor, so Supernal, | Endless, eternal and eternal, — i Is that a devilish lying game ? 1 MEPHISTOPHELES. And yet I 'm right! FAUST. Mark this, I beg of thee ! And spare my lungs henceforth : whoever Intends to have the right, if but his tongue be clever, Will have it, certainly. But come : the further talking brmgs disgust. For thou art right, especially since I must.'"* 138 FAUST. XII. GARDEN. (Margaret on Faust's arm. Martha and Mephistoph- ELES walking up and down.) MARGARET. I FEEL, the gentleman allows for me, Demeans himself, and shames me by it; A traveller is so used to be Kindly content with any diet. I know too well that my poor gossip can fle'er entertain such an experienced man. FAUST. A look from thee, a word, more entertains Than all the lore of wisest brains. {He kisses hei' hand.) MARGARET. Don't incommode yourself ! How could you ever kiss it ! It is so ugly, rough to see ! What work I do, — how hard and steady is it ! Mother is much too close with me. [They pass. MARTHA. And you. Sir, travel always, do you not ? MEPHISTOPHELES. Alas, that trade and duty us so harry ! SCENE XII. I3g With what a pang one leaves so many a spot, And dares not even now and then to tarry ! In young, wild years it suits your ways, This round and round the world in freedom sweeping ; But then come on the evil days, And so, as bachelor, into his grave a-creeping. None ever found a thing to praise. MEPHISTOPHELES- I dread to see how such a fate advances. MARTHA. Then, worthy Sir, improve betimes your chances ! \They pass. MARGARET. Yes, out of sight is out of mind ! Your courtesy an easy grace is ; But you have friends in other places, And sensibler than I, you '11 find. FAUST. Trust me, dear heart ! what men call sensible Is oft mere vanity and narrowness. MARGARET. How so ? Ah, that simplicity and innocence ne'er know Themselves, their holy value, and their spell ! That meekness, lowliness, the highest graces Which Nature portions out so lovingly — I40 FAUST. MARGARET. So you but think a moment's sp^ce on irie, All times I '11 have to think on you, all places ! '"s FAUST. No doubt you 're much alone ? MARGARET. Yes, for our household small has grown, Yet must be cared for, you will own. We have no maid : I do the knitting, sewing, sweeping, The cooking, early work and late, in fact ; And mother, in her notions of housekeeping. Is so exact ! Not that she needs so much to keep expenses down : We, more than others, might take comfort, rather: A nice estate was left us by my father, A house, a little garden near the town. But now my days have less of noise and hurry; My brother is a soldier, My little sister 's dead. True, with the child a troubled life I led. Yet I would take again, and willing, all the worry, So very dear was she. FAUST. An angel, if like thee ! MARGARET. I brought it up, and it was fond of me. Father had died before it saw the light, And mother's case seemed hopeless quite, So weak and miserable she lay ; And she recovered, then, so slowly, day by day. She could not think, herself, of giving SCENE XII. 14^ The poor wee thing its natural living ; And so I nursed it all alone With milk and water : 't was my own. Lulled in my lap with many a song, It smiled, and tumbled, and grew strong. FAUST. The purest bliss was surely then thy dower. MARGARET. But surely, also, many a weary hour. I kept the baby's cradle near My bed at night : if 't even stirred, I 'd guess it. And waking, hear. And I inust nurse it, warm beside me press it. And oft, to quiet it, niy bed forsake. And dandling back and forth the restless creature take, Then at the wash-tub stand, at morning's break ; And then the marketing and kitchen-tending. Day after day, the same thing, never-ending. One's spirits, Sir, are thus not always good. But then one learns to relish rest and food. {They pass. Yes, the poor women are bad off, 't is true : , A stubborn bachelor there 's no converting. ^^\>n MEPHISTOPHELES. It but depends upon the like of you. And I should turn to better ways than flirting. ^ Speak plainly. Sir, have you no one detected ? Has not your heart been anywhere subjected ? 142 FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. The proverb says : One's own warm hearth And a good wife, are gold and jewels worth. MARTHA. I mean, have you not felt desire, though ne'er so slightly ? MEPHISTOPHELES. I 've everywhere, in fact, been entertained politely. MARTHA. I meant to say, were you not touched in earnest, ever ? MEPHISTOPHELES. One should allow one's self to jest with ladies never. MARTHA. Ah, you don't understand ! MEPHISTOPHELES. I 'm sorry I 'm so blind : But I am sure — that you are very kind. ' [ They pass. FAUST. And me, thou angel ! didst thou recognize. As through the garden-gate I came ? MARGARET. Did you not see it ? I cast down my eyes. FAUST. And thou forgiv'st my freedom, and the blame To my impertinence befitting. As the Cathedral thou wert quitting? SCENE XJI. 143 MARGARET. I was confused, the like ne'er happened me ; No one could evei^speak to my discredit. Ah, thought I, in my conduct has he read it — Something immodest or unseemly free ? He seemed to have the sudden feeling That with this wench 't were very easy dealing. I will confess, I knew not what appeal On your behalf, here, in my bosom grew ; But I was angry with myself, to feel That I could not be angrier with you. FAUST. Sweet darling ! MARGARET. Wait a while ! [She flucks a star-flower,^'* and pulls off the leaves, one after the other.) FAUST. Shall that a nosegay be ? MARGARET. No, it is just in play. FAUST. How? MARGARET. Go !■ you '11 laugh at me. (She pulls off the leaves and murmurs^ FAUST. What murmurest thou ? 144 FAUST. MARGARET {half aloud). He loves me — loves me not. FAUST. Thou sweet, angelic soul ! MARGARET (continues). Loves me — not — loves me — not — (plucking the last leaf, she cries with frank delight .') , He loves me ! FAUST. Yes, child ! and let this blossom-word For thee be speech divine ! He loves thee ! Ah, know'st thou what it means ? He loves thee ! (He grasps both her hands.) MARGARET. I 'm all a-tremble ! FAUST. O tremble not ! but let this look, Let this warm clasp of hands declare thee What is unspeakable ! To yield one wholly, and to feel a rapture In yielding, that must be eternal ! Eternal ! — for the end would be despair. No, no, — no ending ! no ending ! MARTHA (coming forward). The night is fa,lling. MEPHISTOPHELES. Ay ! we must away. SCENE XII. J 45 I 'd ask you, longer here to tarry, But evil tongues in this town have full play. It's as if nobody had nothing to fetch and carry,"" Nor other labor, But spying all the doings of one's neighbor : And one becomes the talk, do whatsoe'er one may. Where is our couple now ? MEPHISTOPHELES. Flown up the alley yonder, The wiHul summer-birds ! MARTHA. He seems of her still fonder. MESHISTOPHELES. And she of him. So runs the world away ! VOL. I. 146 FAUST. XIII. A GARDEN-ARBOR. (Margaret conies in, conceals herself behind the door, puts her finger to her lips, and peeps through the cracky MARGARET. T T E comes ! FAUST {^entering). Ah, rogue ! a tease thou art : I have thee ! (He kisses her.) MARGARET (clasping him, and returning the kiss). Dearest man ! I love thee from my heart. (Mephistopheles knocks.) FAUST (stamping his foot). Who 's there ? MEPHISTOPHELES. A friend ! FAUST. A beast ! MEPHISTOPHELES. 'T is time to separate. SCENE XIII. 147 MARTHA [coming). Yes, Sir, 't is late. FAUST. May I not, then, upon you wait ? MARGARET. My mother would — farewell ! FAUST. Ah, can I not remain ? Farewell ! MARTHA. Adieu ! MARGARET. And soon to meet again ! {Exeunt Faust and Mephistophelesj MARGARET. Dear God ! However is it, such A man can think and know so much ? I stand ashamed and in amaze, And answer " Yes " to all he says, A poor, unknowing child ! and he — I can't think what he finds in me ! {Exit. 148 FAUST. XIV. FOREST AND CAVERN.-* FAUST [solus). SPIRIT sublime, thou gav'st me, gav'st me all For which I prayed. Not unto me in vain Hast thou thy countenance revealed in fire. Thou gav'st me Nature as a kingdom grand, With power to feel and to enjoy it. Thou Not' only cold, amazed acquaintance yield'st, But grantest, that in her profoundest breast I gaze, as in the bosom of a friend. The ranks of living creatures thou dost lead Before me, teaching me to know my brothers In air and water and the silent wood. And when the storm in forests roars and grinds, The giant firs, in falling, neighbor boughs And neighbor trunks with crushing weight bear down, And falling, fill the hills with hollow thunders, — Then to the cave secure thou leadest me. Then show'st me mine own self, and in my breast The deep, mysterious miracles unfold. And when the perfect moon before my gaze Comes up with soothing light, around me float From every precipice and'thicket damp The silvery phantoms of the ages past, And temper the austere deUght of thought. That nothing can be perfect unto Man I now am conscious. With this ecstasy, SCENE XIV. I4g Which brings me near and nearer to the Gods, Thou gav'st the comrade, whom I now no more Can do without, though, cold and scornful, he Demeans me to myself, and with a breath, A word, transforms thy gifts to nothingness. Within my breast he fans a lawless fire. Unwearied, for that fair and lovely form : Thus in desire I hasten to enjoyment. And in enjoyment pine to feel desire. (Mephistopheles enters.) MEPHISTOPHELES. Have you not led this life quite long enough ? How can a further test delight you ? 'T is very well, that once one tries the stuff. But something new must then requite you. FAUST. • Would there were other work for thee ! To plague my day auspicious thou returnest. MEPHISTOPHELES. Well ! I '11 engage to let thee be : Thou darest not tell me so in earnest. The loss of thee were truly very slight, — A comrade crazy, rude, repelling : One has one's hands full all the day and night ; If what one does, or leaves undone, is right. From such a face as thine there is no telling. FADST. There is, again, thy proper tone ! — That thou hast bored me, I must thankful be ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Poor Son of Earth, how couldst thou thus alone Have led thy life, bereft of me ? 15° FAUST: I, for a time, at least, have wotked thy cure ; Thy fancy's rickets plague thee not at all : Had I not been, so hadst thou, sure, Walked thyself off this earthly ball. Why here to caverns, rocky hollows slinking, Sit'st thou, as 't were an owl a-blinking? Why suck'st, from sodden moss and dripping stone, Toad-like, thy nourishment alone ? A fine way, this, thy time to fill ! The Doctor 's in thy body still. FAUST. What fresh and vital forces, canst thou guess, Spring from my commerce with the wilderness ? But, if thou hadst the power of guessing. Thou wouldst be devil enough to grudge my soul the blessing. MEPHISTOPHELES. A blessing drawn from supernatural fountains ! In night and dew to lie upon the mountains ; All Heaven and Earth in rapture penetrating ; -Thyself to Godhood haughtily inflating ; To grub with yearning force through Earth's dark marrow, Compress the six days' work within thy bosom nar- row, — To taste, I know not what, in haughty power. Thine own ecstatic life on all things shower. Thine earthly self behind thee cast, And then the lofty instinct, thus — ( With a gesture .■) at last, — I dare n't say how — to pluck the final flower ! SCENE XIV. iji FAUST. Shame on thee ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Yes, thou findest that unpleasant ! Thou hast the moral right to cry me " shame ! " at present One dares not that before chaste ears declare,"' "Which chaste iiearts, notwithstanding, cannot spare ; And, once for all, I grudge thee not the pleasure Of lying to thyself in moderate measure. But such a course thou wilt not long endure ; Already art thou o'er-excited. And, if it last, wilt soon be plighted To madness and to horror, sure. Enough of that ! Thy love sits lonely yonder,"" By all things saddened and oppressed ; Her thoughts and yearnings seek thee, tenderer, fonder, — A mighty love is in her breast. First came thy passion's flood and poured around her As when from melted snow a streamlet overflows ; Thou hast therewith so filled and drowned her, That now thy stream all shallow shows. Methinks, instead of in the forests lording, The noble Sir should find it good, The love of this young silly blood At once to set about rewarding. Her time is miserably long ; She haunts her window, watching clouds that stray O'er the old city-wall, and far away. " Were I a little bird ! " so runs her song,'" Day long, and half night long. Now she is lively, mostly sad. Now, wept beyond her tears ; Then again quiet she appears, — Always love-mad. 1^2 FAUST. FAUST. Serpent! serpent! MEPHISTOPHELES (aside). Ha ! do I trap thee ! FAUST. Get thee away with thine offences, Reprobate ! Name not that fairest thing, Nor the desire for her sweet body bring Again before my half-distracted senses ! MEPHISTOPHELES. What wouldst thou, then? She thinks that thou art flown; And half and half thou art, I own. FAUST. Yet am I near, and love keeps watch and ward ; Though I were ne'er so far, it cannot falter : I envy even the Body of the Lord The touching of her lips, before the altar. MEPHISTOPHELES. 'T is very well ! My envy oft reposes On your twin-pair, that feed among the roses."' FAUST. Away, thou pimp ! MEPHISTOPHELES. You rail, and it is fun to me. The God, who fashioned youth and maid. Perceived the noblest purpose of His trade, And also made their opportunity. Go on ! It is a woe profound ! SCENE XIV. 'T is for your sweetheart's room you 're bound, And not for death, indeed. 153 FAUST. What are, within her arms, the heavenly blisses ? Though I be glowing with her kisses, Do I not always share her need ? I am the fugitive, all houseless roaming, The monster without aim or rest, That like a cataract, down rocks and gorges foaming, Leaps, maddened, into the abyss's breast ! And side-wards she, with young unwakened senses. Within her cabin on the Alpine field Her simple, homely life commences. Her little world therein concealed. And I, God's hate flung o'er me. Had not enough, to thrust The stubborn rocks before me And strike them into dust ! She and her peace I yet must undermine : ''^ Thou, Hell, hast claimed this sacrifice as thine ! ' Help, Devil ! through the coming pangs to push me ; What must be, let it quickly be ! Let fall on me her fate, and also crush me, — One ruin whelm both her and me ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Again it seethes, again it glows ! Thou fool, go in and comfort her ! When such a head as thine no outlet knows, Jt thinks the end must soon occur. Hail him, who keeps a steadfast mind ! Thou, else, dost well the devil-nature wear : Naught so insipid in the world I find As is a devil in despair. 7* IS4 FAUST. XV. MARGARET'S ROOM. MARGARET "3 (at the spinning-wheel, alone). MY peace is gone, My heart is sore : I never shall find it, Ah, nevermore ! Save I have him near, The grave is here ; The world is gall And bitterness all. My poor weak head Is racked and crazed; _ My thought is lost, My senses mazed. My peace is gone, My heart is sore : I never 'shall find it. Ah, nevermore ! To see him, him only, At the pane I sit ; To meet him, him only, The house I quit. SCENE XV. His lofty gait, His noble size, The smile of his mouth, The power of his eyes. And the magic flow }, Of his talk, the bliss In the clasp of his hand, And, ah ! his kiss ! My peace is gone, My heart is sore : I never shall find it. Ah, nevermore ! My bosom yearns For him alone ; * Ah, dared I clasp him, And hold, and own ! And kiss his mouth. To heart's desire, And on his kisses At last expire ! iSS 156 FAUST. XVI. MARTHA'S GARDEN. Margaret. Faust, margaret. ■pROMISE me, Henry! — FAUST. What I can ! MARGARET. How is 't with thy religion, pray ? Thou art a dear, good-hearted man, And yet, I thinlc, dost not incline that way. FAUST. Leave that, my child ! Thou know'st my lOve is tender; For love, my blood and life would I surrender, And as for Faith and Church, I grant to each his own. MARGARET. That 's not enough : we must believe tliereon. FAUST. Must we ? MARGARET. Would that I had some influence ! Then, too, thou honorest not the Holy Sacraments. SCENE XVI. 157 FAUST. I honor them. MARGARET. Desiring no possession. 'T is long since thou hast been to mass or to confessioa Believest thou in God ? FAUST. My darling, who shall dare " I believe in God ! " to say ? Ask priest or sage the answer to declare, And it wiU seem a mocking play, A sarcasm on the asker. MARGARET. Then thou believest not ! Hear me not falsely, sweetest countenance ! '"t Who dare express Him ? And who profess Him, Saying : I believe in Him ! Who, feeling, seeing. Deny His being. Saying : I believe Him not ! The All-enfolding, The All-upholding, Folds and upholds he not Thee, me. Himself? Arches not there the sky above us ? Lies not beneath us, firm, the earth ? And rise not, on us shining, Friendly, the everlasting stars ? Look I not, eye to eye, on thee. 158 FA UST. And feel'st not, thronging To head and heart, the force, Still weaving its eternal secret, Invisible, visible, round thy life ? Vast as it is, fill with that force thy heart, And when thou in the feeling wholly blessed art, Call it, then, what thou wilt, — Call it Bliss! Heart! Love! God! I have no name to give it ! Feeling is all in all : The Name is sound and smoke, Obscuring Heaven's clear glow. MARGARET. All that is fine and good, to hear it so : Much the same way the preacher spoke, Only with slightly different phrases. The same thing, in all places, All hearts that beat beneath the heavenly day - Each in its language — say ; Then why not I, in mine, as well ? MARGARET. To hear it thus, it may seem passable ; And yet, some hitch in 't there must be For thou hast no Christianity. FAUST. Dear love ! MARGARET. I 've long been grieved to see That thou art in such company. SCENE XVI. I5g FAUST. How so ? MARGARET. The man who with thee goes, thy mate, Within my deepest, inmost soul I hate. In all my life there 's nothing Has given my heart so keen a pang of loathing, v/ As his repulsive face has done. FAUST. Nay, fear him not, my sweetest one ! MARGARET. I feel his presence like something ill. I 've else, for all, a kindly will, But, much as my heart to see thee yearneth, The secret horror of him returneth ; And I think the man a knave, as I live ! If I do him wrong, may God forgive ! FAUST. There must be such queer birds, however. MARGARET. Live with the like of him, may I never ! When once inside the door comes he. He looks around so sneeringly. And half in wrath : One sees that in nothing no interest he hath : 'T is written on his very forehead That love, to him, is a thing abhtirr^d. I am so happy on thine arm, So free, so yielding, and so warm, And in his presence stifled seems my heart. l6o FAUST. FAUST. Foreboding angel that thou art ! MARGARET. It overcomes me in such degree, That wheresoe'er he meets us, even, I feel as though I 'd lost my love for thee. When he is by, I could not pray to Heaven. That burns within me like a flame, And surely, Henry, 't is with thee the same. FAUST. There, now, is thine antipathy ! MARGARET. But I must go. FAUST. Ah, shall there never te A quiet hour, to see us fondly plighted, With breast to breast, and soul to soul united ? MARGARET. Ah, if I only slept alone ! ^ I 'd draw the bolts to-night, for thy desire ; But mother's sleep so light has grown, And if we were discovered by her, 'T would be my death upon the spot ! FAUST. Thou angel, fear it not ! Here is a phial : in her drink I But three drops of it measure. And deepest sleep will on her senses sink. [Exit. SCENE XVI. l6i MARGARET. What would I not, to give thee pleasure ? It will not harm her, when one tries it ? FAUST. If 't would, my love, would I advise it ? MARGARET. Ah, dearest man, if but thy face I see, I know not what compels me to thy will : So much have I already done for thee. That scarcely more is left me to fulfil. (Enter Mephistopheles. ) MEPHISTOPHELES. The monkey ! Is she gone ? FAUST. Hast played the spy again ? MEPHISTOPHELES. I 've heard, most fully, how she drew thee. The Doctor has been catechised, 't is plain ; Great good, I hope, the thing will do thee. The girls have much desire to ascertain If one is prim and good, as ancient rules compel: If there he 's led, they think, he '11 follow them as well. FAUST. Thou, monster, wilt nor see nor own How this pure soul, of faith so lowly, So loving and ineffable, ■ — The faith alone That her salvation is, — with scruples holy Pines, lest she hold as lost the man she loves so well ! ■ K 1 62 FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. Thou, full of sensual, super-sensual desire, A girl by the nose is leading thee. '") FAUST. ^ Abortion, thou, of filth and fire ! MEPHISTOPHELES. And then, how masterly she reads physiognomy ! When I am present she 's impressed, she knows not how; She in my mask a hidden sense would read : She feels that surely I 'm a genius now, — ,"' , Perhaps the very Devil, indeed! ^^ -■ Well, well, — to-night — ? ,.«^ ^'' FAUST. What 's that to thee ? « MEPHISTOPHELES. "T Yet my delight 't will also be ! SCENE XVII. 163 XVII. AT THE FOUNTAIN.«s Margaret and Lisbeth with pitchers. TT AST nothing heard of Barbara ? MARGARET. No, not a word. I go so little out. LISBETH. It 's true, Sibylla said, to-day. She 's played the fool at last, there 's not a doubt Such taking-on of airs ! MARGARET. How so .'' It stinks ! She 's feeding two, whene'er she eats and drinks. MARGARET. Ah! LISBETH. And so, at last, it serves her rightly. She clung to the fellow so long and tightly ! That was a promenading ! At village and dance parading! 1 64 FAUST. As the first they must everywhere shine, And he treated her always to pies and wine, And she made a to-do with her face so fine ; So mean and shameless was her behavior, She took all the presents the fellow gave her. 'T was kissing and coddling, on and on ! So now, at the end, the flower is gone. MARGARET. The ppor, poor thing ! LISBETH. Dost pity her, at that ? When one of us at spinning sat, And mother, nights, ne'er let us out the door She sported with her paramour. On the door-bench, in the passage dark. The length of the time they 'd never mark. I So now her head no more she '11 lift, I But do church-penance in her sinner's shift ! MARGARET. He 'II surely take her for his wife. He 'd be a fool ! A brisk young blade Has room, elsewhere, to ply his trade. Besides, he 's gone. MARGARET. That is not fair ! LISBETH. If him she gets, why let her beware ! SCENE xvri. 165 The boys shall dash her wreath on the floor, And we '11 scatter chaff before her door ! "^ \Exit. MARGARET {returning home). How scornfully I once reviled, When some poor maiden was beguiled ! More speech than any tongue suffices I craved, to censure others' vices. Black as it seemed, I blackened still. And blacker yet was in my will ; And blessed myself, and boasted high, — And now — a living sin am I ! Yet — all that drove my heart thereto, God ! was so good, so dear, so true ! i66 FAUST. XVIII. DONJON."? (In a niche of the wall a shrine, ■with an image of the Mater Dolorosa. Pots of flowers before it.) MARGARET (futting fresh flowers in the pots'). INCLINE, O Maiden, Thou sorrow-laden, Thy gracious countenance upon my pain ! The sword Thy heart in, With anguish smarting, Thou lookest up to where Thy Son is slain ! Thou seest the Father ; Thy sad sighs gather. And bear aloft Thy sorrow and His pain ! Ah, past guessing. Beyond expressing, The pangs that wring my flesh and bone ! Why this anxious heart so burneth, Why it trembleth, why it yearneth, Knowest Thou, and Thou alone ! Where'er I go, what sorrow. What woe, what woe and sorrow SCENE xvni. Within my bosom aches ! Alone, and ah ! unsleeping, I 'm weeping, weeping, weeping. The heart within me breaks. The pots before my window, Alas ! my tears did wet. As in the early morning For thee these flowers I set. Within my lonely chamber The morning sun shone red : I sat, in utter sorrow, Already on my bed. Help ! rescue me from death and stain ! O Maiden ! Thou sorrow-laden, * Incline Thy countenance upon my pain ! 167 I68 FAUST. XIX. NIGHT. Street before Margaret's door. valentine"^ (ffl soldier, Margaret's brother). WHEN I have sat at some carouse. Where each to each his brag allows, And many a comrade praised to me His pink of girls right lustily, With brimming glass that spilled the toast, And elbows planted as in boast : I sat in unconcerned repose, And heard the swagger as it rose. And stroking then my beard, I 'd say, Smiling, the bumper in my hand : " Each well enough in her own way. But is there one in all the land Like sister Margaret, good as gold, — One that to her can a candle hold ? " Cling ! clang ! " Here 's to her ! " went around The board : " He speaks the truth ! " cried some ; " In her the flower o' the sex is found ! '.' And all the swaggerers were dumb. And now ! — I could tear my hair with vexation, And dash out my brains in desperation ! With turned-up nose each scamp may face me. With sneers and stinging taunts disgrace me. 169 SCENE XIX. And, like a bankrupt debtor sitting, A chance-dropped word may set me sweating ! Yet, though I thresh them all together, I cannot call them liars, either. But what comes sneaking, there, to view ? If I mistake not, there are two. If he 's one, let me at him drive ! He shall not leave the spot alive. Faust. Mephistopheles. FAUST. . How from the window of the sacristy Upward tli' eternal lamp sends forth a glimmer. That, lessening side-wards, fainter grows and dimmer, TiE darkness closes from the sky ! The shadows thus within my bosom gamier. MEPHISTOPHELES. I 'm like a sentimental tom-cat, rather, That round the tall fire-ladders sweeps. And stealthy, then, along the coping creeps : Quite virtuous, withal, I come, A little thievish and a httle frolicsome. • I feel in every limb the presage Forerunning the grand Walpurgis-Night : Day after to-morrow brings its message, And one keeps watch then with delight. FAUST. Meanwhile, may not the treasure risen be, Which there, behind, I glimmering see ? MEPHISTOPHELES. Shalt soon experience the pleasure, To lift the kettle with its treasure. VOL. I. 8 i^o FAUST. I lately gave therein a squint — Saw splendid lion-dollars in 't."9 Not even a jewel, not a ring, To deck therewith my darling girl ? MEPHISTOPHELES. I saw, among the rest, a thing That seemed to be a chain of pearl. FAUST. That 's well, indeed ! For painful is it To bring no gift when her I visit. MEPHISTOPHELES. Thou shouldst not find it so annoying, Without return to be enjoying. Now, while the sky leads forth its starry throng. Thou 'It hear a masterpiece, no work completer : I '11 sing her, first, a moral song. The surer, afterwards, to cheat her. (Sings to the cither.) * What dost thou here'" In daybreak clear, Kathrina dear. Before thy lover's door ? Beware ! the blade Lets in a maid, That out a maid Departeth nevermore ! The coaxing shun Of such an one ! When once 't is done SCENE XIX. T71 Good-night to thee, poor thing ! Love's time is brief : Unto no thief Be warm and lief, But with the wedding-ring ! VALENTINE [comes forward). Whom wilt thou lure ? God's-element ! Rat-catching piper, thou ! — perdition ! '" To the Devil, first, the instrument ! To the Devil, then, the curst musician ! MEPHISTOPHELES. The cither 's smashed ! For nothing more 't is fitting. VALENTINE. There 's yet a skull I must be splitting ! MEPHISTOPHELES [to FaUST). Sir Doctor, don't retreat, I pray ! Stand by : I 'U lead, if you '11 but tarry : Out with your spit, without delay ! "^ You 've but to lunge, and I will parry. Then parry that That, too ! VALENTINE. MEPHISTOPHELES. Why not .■■ 't is light. VALENTINE. MEPHISTOPHELES. Of course. VALENTINE. I think the Devil must fight ! How is it, then ? my hand 's already lame. 1-J2 FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST). Thrust home ! VALENTINE (falls). O God ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Now is the lubber tame ! But come, away ! 'T is time for us to fly ; For there arises now a murderous cry. With the police 't were easy to compound it, But here the penal court will sift and sound it. \Exit with Faust, MARTHA (at the window). Come out ! come out ! MARGARET [at the window). Quick, bring a light ! MARTHA (as above). They swear and storm, they yell and fight ! PEOPLE. Here lies one dead already — see ! MARTHA (coming from the house). ■- The murderers, whither have they run ? MARGARET (coming out). Who lies here ? PEOPLE. 'T is thy mother's son ! MARGARET. Almighty God ! what misery ! SCENE XIX. VALENTINE. I 'm dying ! That is quickly said, And quicker yet 't is done. Why howl, you women there ? Instead, Come here and listen, every one ! (All gather around him ) My MaBgaret, see ! still young thou art, But not the least hit shrewd or smart. Thy business thus to slight : So this advice I bid thee heed — Now that thou art a whore indeed, ) Why, be one then, outright ! MARGARET. My brother ! God ! such words to me ? VALENTINE. , In this game let our Lord God be ! What 's done 's already done, alas ! What follows it, must come to pass. With one begin'st thou secretly. Then soon will others come to thee. And when a dozen thee have known. Thou 'rt also free to all the town. When Shame is born and first appears. She is in secret brought to light, And then they draw the veil of night Over her head and ears ; Her life, in fact, they 're loath to spare her. But let her growth and strength display. She walks abroad unveiled by day. Yet is not grown a whit the fairer. The uglier she is to sight. The more she seeks the day's broad light. 173 174 FAUST. The time I verily can discern When all the honest folk will turn From thee, thou jade ! and seek protection As from a corpse that breeds infection.. Thy guilty heart shall then dismay thee, When they but look thee in the face : — Shalt not in a golden chain array thee, Nor at the altar take thy place ! Shalt not, in lace and ribbons flowing, Make merry when the dance is going ! But in some corner, woe betide thee ! Among the beggars and cripples hide thee ; And so, though even God forgive. On earth a damned existence live ! Commend your soul to God for pardon, That you your heart with slander harden ! VALENTINE. Thou pimp most infamous, be still ! Could I thy withered body kill, 'T would bring, for all my sinful pleasure. Forgiveness in the richest measure. MARGARETi My brother ! This is Hell's own pain ! VALENTINE. I tell thee, from thy tears refrain ! When thou from honor didst depart It stabbed me to the very heart. New through the slumber of the grave I go to God as a soldier brave. (Dies.) SCENE XX. 1^2 XX. CATHEDRAL. "3 Service, Organ and Anthem. (Margaret among much people: the Evil Spirit behind Margaret.) EVIL spirit. HOW otherwise was it, Margaret, When thou, still innocent. Here to the altar cam'st. And from the worn and fingered book"* Thy prayers didst prattle. Half sport of childhood. Half God within thee ! Margaret ! Where tends thy thought ? Within thy bosom What hidden crime ? Pray'st thou for mercy on thy mother's soul. That fell asleep to long, long torment, and through thee ? "^ Upon thy threshold whose the blood ? And stirreth not and quickens Something beneath thy heart. Thy life disquieting With most foreboding presence ? MARGARET. Woe ! woe ! ■ Would I were free from the thoughts 176 FAUST. That cross me, drawing hither and thither, Despite me ! CHORUS. Dies ira, dies illa,"^ Solvet sczclum infavilla ! (JSoundofthe organ.) EVIL SPIRIT. Wrath fakes thee ! The trumpet peals ! The graves tremble ! And thy heart From ashy rest To fiery torments Now again requickened. Throbs to life ! MARGARET. Would I were forth ! I feel as if the organ here My breath takes from me. My very heart Dissolved by the anthem ! ■ CHORUS. Judex ergo cum sedebitf^ Quidquid latet, adparebit. Nil inultum remanebit. MARGARET. I cannot breathe ! The massy pillars Imprison me ! The vaulted arches Crush me ! — Air ! SCENE XX. EVIL SPIRIT. Hide thyself ! Sin and shame Stay never hidden. Air ? Light ? Woe to thee ! CHORUS. Quid sum miser tunc diciurus,"^ Quern patronum rogaturus, Cum mx Justus sit securus ? EVIL SPIRIT. They turn their faces, The glorified, from thee : The pure, their hands to offer. Shuddering, refuse thee ! Woe! CHORUS. Qftidsum miser tunc diciurus ? MARGARET. Neighbor ! your cordial ! '^ {She falls in a swoon.) 177 8» 178 FAUST. XXI, WALPURGIS-NIGHT.'»8 The Hartz Mountains. District of Schierke and Elend. Faust. Mephistopheles. mephistopheles. DOST thou not wish a broomstick-steed's assistance ? The sturdiest he-goat I would gladly see : The way we take, our goal is yet some distance. FAUST. So long as in my legs I feel the fresh existence, This knotted staff suffices me. What need to shorten so the way .' Along this labyrinth of vales to wand'er. Then chmb the rocky ramparts yonder, Wherefrom the fountain flings eternal spray. Is such delight, my steps would fain delay. The spring-time stirs within the fragrant birches, And even the fir-tree feels it now : Should then our limbs escape its gentle searches ? MEPHISTOPHELES. I notice no such thing, I vow ! 'T is winter still within my body : Upon my path I wish for frost and snow. 179 SCENE XXI. How sadly rises, incomplete and ruddy, The moon's lone disk, with its belated glow,"' And lights so dimly, that, as one advances, At every step one strikes a rock or tree ! Let us, then, use a Jack-o'-lantern's glances : I see one yonder, burning merrily. Ho, there ! my friend ! I '11 levy thine attendance : Why waste so vainly thy resplendence ? Be kind enough to light us up the steep ! will-o'-the-wisp. My reverence, I hope, will me enable To curb my temperament unstable ; For zigzag courses we are wont to keep. MEPHISTOPHELES. Indeed ? he 'd like mankind to imitat^ ! Now, in the Devil's name, go straight, Or I '11 blow out his being's flickering spark ! WILL-O'-THE-WISP. You are the master of the house, I mark, And I shall try to serve you nicely. But then, reflect : the mountain 's magic-mad to-day, And if a will-o'-the-wisp must guide you on the way. You must n't take things too precisely. FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, WILL-O'-THE-WISP {in alternating song). We, it seems, have entered newly In the sphere of dreams enchanted. Do thy bidding, guide us truly, That our feet be forwards planted In the vast, the desert spaces ! l8o FAUST. See them swiftly changing places, Trees on trees beside us trooping, And the crags above us stooping, And the rocky snouts, outgrowing, — Hear them snoring, hear them blowing ! '3° O'er the stones, the grasses, flowing Stream and streamlet seek the hollow. Hear I noises ? songs that follow ? Hear I tender love-petitions ? Voices of those heavenly visions ? Sounds of hope, of love undying ! And the echoes, like traditions Of old days, come faint and hollow. Hoo-hoo ! Shoo-hoo ! Nearer hover Jay and screech-owl, and the plover, — Are they all awake and crying ? Is 't the salamander pushes. Bloated-bellied, through the bushes ? And the roots, like serpents twisted, Through the sand and boulders toiling, Fright us, weirdest links uncoiling To entrap us, unresisted : Living knots and gnarls uncanny Feel with polypus-antennae For the wanderer. Mice are flying. Thousand-colored, herd-wise hieing Through the moss and through the heather ! And the fire-flies wink and darkle, Crowded swarms that soar and sparkle. And in wildering escort gather ! Tell me, if we still are standing. Or if further we 're ascending ? All is turning, whirling, blending, Trees-and rocks with grinning faces, SCENE XXI. l8i Wandering lights that spin in mazes, Still increasing and expanding ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Grasp my skirt with heart undaunted ! Here a middle-peak is planted, WheriEe one seeth, with amaze. Mammon in the mountain blaze. How strangely glimmers through the hollows A dreary light, like that of dawn ! Its exhalation tracks and follows The deepest gorges, faint and wan. Here steam, there rolhng vapor sweepeth ; Here burns the glow through film and haze : Now like a tender thread it creepeth. Now like a fountain leaps and plays. Here winds away, and in a hundred Divided veins the valley braids : There, in a corner pressed and sundered. Itself detaches, spreads and fades. Here gush the sparkles incandescent Like scattered showers of golden sand ; — But, see ! in all their height, at present, The rocky ramparts blazing stand. MEPHISTOPHELES. Has not Sir Mammon grandly lighted His palace for this festal night ? 'T is lucky thou hast seen the sight ; The boisterous guests approach that were invited. How raves the tempest through the air ! '3" With what fierce blows upon my neck 't is beating! 1 82 PAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. Under the old ribs of the rock retreating, Hold fast, lest thou be hurled down the abysses there ! The night with the mist is blaclc ; Hark ! how the forests grind and crack ! Frightened, the owlets are scattered : « Hearken ! the pillars are shattered, The evergreen palaces shaking ! Boughs are groaning and breaking, The tree-trunks terribly thunder, The roots are twisting asunder ! In frightfully intricate crashing Each on the other is dashing. And over the wreck-strewn gorges The tempest whistles and surges ! Hear'st thou voices higher ringing? Far away, or nearer singing ? Yes, the mountain's side along. Sweeps an infuriate glamouring song ! WITCHES (in chorus). The witches ride to the Brocken's topj'S' The stubble is yellow, and green the crop. There gathers the crowd for carnival : Sir Urian sits over all. And so they go over stone and stock ; The witch she s, and s the buck. A VOICE. Alone, old Baubo 's coming now ; '33 She rides upon a farrow-sow. CHORUS. Then honor to whom the honor is due ! Dame Baubo first, to lead the crew ! SCENE XXI. 183 A tough old sow and the mother thereon, Then follow the witches, every one. A VOICE. Which way com'st thou hither ? VOICE. O'er the Ilsen-stone. I peeped at the owl in her nest alone : How she stared and glared ! VOICE. Betake thee to Hell ! Why so fast and so fell? VOICE. She has scored and has flayed me : See the wounds she has made me ! WITCHES (chorus). The way is wide, the way is long : See, what a wild and crazy throng ! V The broom it scratches, the fork it thrusts, The child is stifled, the mother bursts. WIZARDS (semichorus). As doth the snail in shell, we crawl : Before us go the women all. When towards the Devil's House we tread, Woman 's a thousand steps ahead. '34 OTHER SEMICHORUS. We do not measure with such care : Woman in thousand steps is there. But howsoe'er she hasten may, Man in one leap has cleared the way. l84 FAUST. VOICE (from above) . Come on, come on, from Rocky Lake ! VOICE (from below). Aloft we 'd fain ourselves betake. We 've washed, and are bright as ever you will, Yet we 're eternally sterile still.'3s BOTH CHORUSES. The wind is hushed, the star shoots by. The dreary moon forsakes the sky ; The magic notes, like spark on spark, Drizzle, whistling through the dark.'3« VOICE (from below). Halt, there ! Ho, there ! VOICE (from above). Who calls from the rocky cleft below there ? VOICE (below). Take me, too ! take me, too ! I 'm climbing now three hundred years, '3? And yet the summit cannot see : Among my equals I would be. BOTH CHORUSES. Bears the broom and bears the stock, Bears the fork and bears the buck : Who cannot raise himself to-night Is evermore a ruined wight. HALF-WITCH (below). So long I stumble, ill bestead. And the others are now so far ahead ! SCENE XXI. 185 At home I 've neither rest nor cheer, And yet I cannot gain them here. CHORUS OF WITCHES. To cheer the witch will salve avail ; A rag will answer for a sail ; Each trough a gOodly ship supplies ; He ne'er will fly, who now not flies. BOTH CHORUSES. When round the summit whirls our flight, Then lower, and on the ground alight ; And far and wide the heather press With witchhood's swarms of wantonness ! { They settle down.) MEPHISTOPHELES. They crowd and push, they roar and clatter ! They whirl and whistle, pull and chatter ! Theyshine, and spirt, and stink, and bum ! The true witch-element we learn. Keep close ! or we are parted, in our turn. Where art thou ? FAUST (in the distance). Here! MEPHISTOPHELES. What ! whirled so far asvray ? Then house-right I must use, and clear the way. Make room ! Squire Voland comes ! '3* Room, gentlo rabble, room ! Here, Doctor, hold to me : in one jump we '11 resume An easier space, and from the crowd be free : It 's too much, even for the like of me. 1 86 P^UST. Yonder, with special light, there 's something shining clearer Within those bushes ; I 've a mind to see. Come on ! we '11 slip a Httle nearer. FAUST. Spirit of Contradiction ! On ! I '11 follow straight. 'T is planned most wisely, if I judge aright : We climb the Brocken's top in the Walpurgis-Night, That arbitrarily, here, ourselves we isolate. MEPHISTOPHELES. But see, what motley flames among the heather ! There is,a Uvely club together : In smaller circles one is not alone. FAUST. Better the summit, I must own : There fire and whirling smoke I see. They seek the Evil One in wild confusion : Many enigmas there might find solution. MEPHISTOPHELES. But there enigmas also knotted be. Leave to the multitude their riot ! Here will we house ourselves in. quiet. It is an old, transmitted trade. That in the greater world the little worlds are made. I see stark-nude young witches congregate. And old ones, veiled and hidden shrewdly : On my account be kind, nor treat them rudely ! The trouble 's small, the fun is great. I hear the noise of instruments attuning, — Vile din ! yet one must learn to bear the crooning. Come, come along! It must be, I declare ! SCENE XXI. 187 I '11 go ahead and introduce thee there, Thine obligation newly earning. That is no Jittle space : what say'st thou, friend ? Look yonder ! thou canst scarcely see the end : A hundred fires along the ranks are burning. They dance, they chat, they cook, they drink, they court : Now where, just tell me, is there better- sport? FAUST. Wilt thou, to introduce us to the revd. Assume the part of wizard or of devil ? MEPHISTOPHELES. I 'm mostly used, 't is true, to go incognito. But on a gala-day one may his orders show. The Garter does not deck my suit, • But honored and at home is here the cloven foot. Perceiv'st thou yonder snail? It cometh, slow and steady; So delicately its feelers pry. That it hath scented me already : I cannot here disguise me, if I try. But come ! we '11 go from this fire to a newer : I am the go-between, and thou the wooer. ( To some, who are sitting aroutid dying embers ;) Old gentlemen, why at the outskirts ? Enter ! I 'd praise you if I found you snugly in the centre, With youth and revel round you like a zone : You each, at home, are quite enough alone. GENERAL. Say, who would put his trust in nations, Howe'er for them one may have worked and planned ? 188 FAUST. For with the people, as with women, Youth always has the upper hand. MINISTER. They 're now too far from what is just and sage. I praise the old ones, not unduly : When we were all-in-all, then, truly, Then was the real golden age. PARVENU. We also were not stupid, either, And what we should not, often did ; But now all things have from their bases slid. Just as we meant to hold them fast together. AUTHOR. Who, now, a work of moderate sense will read? Such works are held as antiquate and mossy ; And as regards the younger folk, indeed. They never yet have been so pert and saucy. MEPHISTOPHELES (who all at once appears very old).^^ I feel that men are ripe for Judgment-Day, Now for the last time I 've the witches'-hill ascended : Since to the lees my cask is drained away, The world's, as well, must soon be ended. HUCKSTER-WITCH. Ye gentlemen, don't pass me thus ! Let not the chance neglected be ! Behold my wares attentively : The stock is rare and various. And yet, there 's nothing I 've collected — No shop, on earth, like this you '11 find ! — SCENE XXI. 189 Which has not, once, sore hurt inflicted Upon the world, and on mankind. No dagger 's here, that set not blood to flowing ; ■*" No cup, that hath not once, within a healthy frame Poured speedy death, in poison glowing : No gems, that have not brought a maid to shame ; No sword, but severed ties for the unwary. Or from behind struck down the adversary. MEPHISTOPHELES. Gossip ! the times thou badly comprehendest : What 's done has happed — what haps, is done ! 'T were better if for novelties thou sendest : By such alone can we be won. Let me not lose myself in all this potjier ! This is a fair, as never was another ! MEPHISTOPHELES. The whirlpool swirls to get above : Thou 'rt shoved thyself, imagining to shove. FAUST. But who is that ? MEPHISTOPHELES. Note her especially, 'T is LiHth. ; FAUST. Who? MEPHISTOPHELES. Adam's first wife is she.'* Beware the lure within her lovely tresses. The splendid sole adornment of her hair ! I90 FAUST. When she succeeds therewith a youth to snare, Not soon again she frees him from her jesses. Those two, the old one with the young one sitting, They 've danced already more than fitting. MEPHISTOPHELES. No rest to-night for young or old ! They start another dance : come now, let us take hold ! FAUST (dancing with the young witcK). A lovely dream once came to me ; '■'= I then beheld an apple-tree, And there two fairest apples shone : They lured me so, I climbed thereon. THE FAIR ONE. Apples have been desired by you. Since first in Paradise they grew ; Ajid I am moved with joy, to know That such within my garden grow. MEPHISTOPHELES [dancing with the oldotie^i A dissolute dream once came to me : Therein I saw a cloven tree. Which had a ; Yet, as 't was, I fancied it. THE OLD ONE. I offer here my best salute Unto the knight with cloven foot ! Let him a prepare. If him does not scare. IQI SCENE XXI. PROKTOPHANTASMIST.'« Accursed folk ! How dare you venture thus ? Had you not, long since, demonstration That ghosts can't stand on ordinary foundation ? And now you even dance, lilce one of us ! THE FAIR ONE (dancing). Why does he come, then, to our ball ? FAUST (dancing). O, everywhere on him you fall ! When others dance, he weighs the matter : If he can't every step bechatter, Then 't is the same as were the step not made ; But if you forwards go, his ire is most displayed. If you would whirl in regular gyration As he does in his dull old mill, ^ He 'd show, at any rate, good-will, — Especially if you heard and heeded his hortation. PROKTOPHANTASMIST. You still are here ? Nay, 't is a thing unheard ! Vanish, at once ! We 've said the enlightening word. The pack of devils by no rules is daunted : We are so wise, and yet is Tegel haunted."''' To clear the folly out, how have I swept and stirred ! 'T will ne'er be clean : why, 't is a thing unheard ! THE FAIR ONE. Then cease to bore us at our ball ! PROKTOPHANTASMIST. I tell you, spirits, to your face, I give to spirit-despotism no place ; My spirit cannot practise it at all. 192 FAUST. ( The dance continues.'] Naught will succeed, I see, amid such revels ; Yet something from a tour I always save,'^ And hope, before my last step to the grave, To overcome the poets and the devils. MEPHISTOPHELES. He now will seat him in the nearest puddle ; The solace this, whereof he 's most assured: And when upon his rump the leeches hang and fuddle, He '11 be of spirits and of Spirit cured. { To Faust, who has left the daiue :) Wherefore forsakest thou the lovely maiden,. That in the dance so sweetly sang ? FAUST. ^ Ah ! in the midst of it there sprang A red mouse from her mouth — sufficient reason ! "<* MEPHISTOPHELES. That 's nothing ! One must not so squeamish be ; So the mouse was not gray, enough for thee. Who 'd think of that in love's selected season ? FAUST. Then saw I — MEPHISTOPHELES. What? FAUST. Mephisto, seest thou there, Alone and far, a girl most pale and fair ? She falters on, her way scarce knowing, As if with fettered feet that stay her going. SCENE XXI. 193 I must confess, it seems to me \ As if my kindly Margaret were she. '^ MEPHISTOPHELES. Let the thing be ! All thence have evil drawn : It is a magic shape, a lifeless eidolon. Such to encounter is not good : Their blank, set stare benumbs the human blood, And one is almost turned to stone. Medusa's tale to thee is known. FAUST. Forsooth, the eyes they are of one whom, dying, No hand with loving pressure closed ; That is the breast whereon I once was lying, — The body sweet, beside which I reposed ! MEPHISTOPHELES. " 'T is magic all, thou fool, seduced so easily ! Unto each man his love she seems to be. FAUST. The woe, tlie rapture, so ensnare me, That from her gaze I cannot tear me ! And, strange ! around her fairest throat A single scarlet band is gleaming. No broader than a knife-blade seeming ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Quite right ! The mark I also note. Her head beneath her arm she '11 sometime.'^ carry; ■'T was Perseus lopped it, her old adversary. Thou crav'st the same illusion still ! Come, let us mount this little hill ; The Prater shows no livelier stir,'*' VOL. I. 9 M 194 FAUST. And, if they 've not bewitched my sense, I verily see a theatre. What's going on? SERVIBILIS.'''* 'T will shortly recommence : A new performance — 't is the last of seven. To give that number is the custom here : 'T was by a Dilettante written, And Dilettanti in the parts appear. That now I vanish, pardon, I entreat you ! As Dilettante I the curtain raise. MEPHISTOPHELES. When I upon the Blocksberg meet you, I find it good : for that 's your proper place. SCENE XXII. 195 XXII. WALPURGIS-NIGHT'S DREAM. Oberon and Titania's Golden Wedding. '« INTERMEZZO. MANAGER. SONS of Mieding, rest to-day ! ■;»■ Needless your machinery: Misty vale and mountain gray, That is all the scenery. „ That the wedding golden be', Must fifty years be rounded : But the Golden give to me, When the strife 's compounded. Spirits, if you 're here, be seen — Show yourselves, delighted ! Fairy king and fairy queen. They are newly plighted. PUCK."S« Cometh Puck, and, light of limb, Whisks and whirls in measure : Come a hundred after him. To share with him the pleasure. ig6 FAUST. ARIEL.'S= Ariel's song is heavenly-pure, His tones are sweet and rare ones : Though ugly faces he allure, Yet he allures the fair ones. OBERON. Spouses, who would fain agree, Learn how we were mated ! If your pairs would loving be, First be separated ! TITANIA. If her whims the wife control. And the man berate her, Take him to the Northern Pole, And her to the Equator ! ORCHESTRA. TUTTI."S3 Fortissimo. Snout of fly, mosquito-bill. And kin of all conditions. Frog in grass, and cricket-frill, — These are the musicians ! SOLO.'54 See the bagpipe on our track ! 'T is the soap-blown bubble : Hear the schnecke-schnicke-schnack Through his nostrils double ! SPIRIT, JUST GROWING INTO FORM.'SS Spider's foot and paunch of toad, And little wings — we know 'em ! SCENE XXII. A little creature 't will not be, But yet, a little poem. , A LITTLE COUPLE.'S* Little step and lofty leap Through honey-dew and fragrance : You '11 never mount the airy steep With all your tripping vagrance. INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER.'5? Is 't but masquerading play? See I with precision ? Oberon, the beauteous fay, Meets, to-night, my vision! ORTHODOX.'S* Not a claw, no tail I see ! And yet, beyond a cavil, * Like " the Gods of Greece," must he Also be a deviL NORTHERN ARTIST.'S9 I only seize, with sketchy air. Some outlines of the tourney ; Yet I betimes myself prepare For my Italian journey, PURIST. My bad luck brings me here, alas ! How roars the orgy louder ! And of the witches in the mass, But only two wear powder. YOUNG WITCH. Powder becomes, like petticoat, A gray and wrinkled noddy ; 197 198 FAUST. So I sit naked on my goat, And show a strapping body. MATRON. We 've too much tact and policy To rate with gibes a scolder ; Yet, young and tender though you be, I hope to see you moulder. LEADER OF THE BAND. Fly-snout and mosquito-bill, Don't swarm so round the Naked ! Frog in grass and cricket-trill, Observe the time, and make it ! WEATHERCOCK (towards one side).'^ Society to one's desire ! Brides only, and the sweetest ! And bachelors of youth and fire. And prospects the completest ! WEATHERCOCK {towards the other side). And if the Earth don't open now To swallow up each ranter, Why, then will I myself, I vow, Jump into hell instanter ! Us as little insects see ! With sharpest nippers flitting, That our Papa Satan we May honor as is fitting. HENNINGS.'^ How, in crowds together massed. They are jesting, shameless ! SCENE XXII. I They will even say, at- last, That their hearts are blameless.. MUSAGETES. Among this witches' revelry His way one gladly loses ; And, truly, it would easier be Than to command the Muses. CI-DEVANT GENIUS OF THE AGE. The proper folks one's talents laud: Come on, and none shall pass us ! The Blocksberg has a summit broad. Like Germany's Parnassus. INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER. Say, who 's the stiff and pompous man ? He walks with haughty pac%s : He snuffles all he snuffle can : " He scents the Jesuits' traces." CRANE.''3 Both clear and muddy streams, for me Are good to fish and sport in : And thus the pious man you see With even devils consorting. WORLDLING.'^'' Yes, for the pious, I suspect. All instruments are fitting ; And on the Blocksberg they erect Full many a place of meeting. DANCER. A newer chorus now succeeds ! I hear the distant drumming. 199 200 FAUST. " Don't be disturbed ! 't is, in the reeds, The bittern's changeless booming.'' DANCING-MASTER. How each his legs in nimble trip Lifts up, and makes a clearance ! The crooked jump, the heavy skip, Nor care for the appearance. GOOD FELLOW.'^S The rabble by such hate are held, To maim and slay delights them : As Orpheus' lyre the brutes compelled, The bagpipe here unites them. DOGMATIST. I '11 not be led by any lure Of doubts or critic-cavils : The Devil must be something, sure, — Or how should there be devils ? IDEALIST.'** This once, the fancy wrought in me Is really too despotic : Forsooth, if I am all I see, I must be idiotic ! REALIST. This racking fuss on every hand, It gives me great vexation ; And, for the first time, here I stand On insecure foundation. SUPERNATURALIST. With much delight I see the play, And grant to these their merits. scEivE xxrr. Since from the devils I also may Infer the better spirits. SCEPTIC'' The flame they follow, on and on, And think they 're near the treasure : But Devil rhymes with Doubt alone, So I am here with pleasure. LEADER OF THE BAND. Frog in green, and cricket-trill, Such dilettants ! — perdition ! Fly-snout and mosquito-bill, — Each one 's a fine musician ! THE ADROIT.'^ Sanssouci, we call the clan Of merry creatures so, then ; Go a-foot no more we can. And on our heads we go, then. THE AWKWARD. Once many a bit we sponged ; but now, God help us ! that is done with : Our shoes are all danced out, we trow, We 've but naked soles to run with. will-o'-the-wisps.'^ From the marshes we appear. Where we originated ; Yet in the ranks, at once, we 're here As glittering gallants rated. SHOOTING-STAR. Darting hither from the sky, In star and fire light shooting, 9* 202 FAUST. Cross-wise now in grass I lie : Who '11 help me to my footing ? THE HEAVY FELLOWS. Room ! and round about us, room 1 Trodden are the grasses : Spirits also, spirits come. And they are bulky masses. PUCK. Enter not so stall-fed quite, Like elephant-calves about one ! And the heaviest weight to-night Be Puck, himself, the stout one ! ARIEL. If loving Nature at your back, Or Mind, the wings uncloses, Follow up my airy track To the mount of roses ! ORCHESTRA. Pianisstmo. Cloud and trailing mist o'erhead Are now illuminated : Air in leaves, and wind in reed. And all is dissipated.'?" SCENE XXIII. 203 XXIII. DREARY DAY.'?' A Field. Faust. Mephistopheles. FAUST. IN misery ! In despair ! Long wretchedly astray on the face of the earth, and now imprisoned! That gracious, ill-starred creature shut in a dungeon as a criminal, and given up to fearful tonnents ! To this has it come ! to this ! — Treacherous, contemptible spir- it, and thou hast concealed it from me ! — Stand, then, — stand ! Roll the devilish eyes wrathf ully in thy head ! Stand and defy me with thine intolerable presence ! Imprisoned ! In irretrievable misery ! Delivered up to evil spirits, and to condemning, unfeeling Man ! And thou hast lulled me, meanwhile, with the most insipid dissipations, hast concealed from me her increasing wretchedness, and suffered her to go helplessly to ruin ! MEPHISTOPHELES. She is not the first. FAUST. Dog ! Abominable monster ! Transform him, thou Infinite Spirit ! transform the reptile again into his dog- shape, in which it pleased him often at night to scamper on before me, to roll himself at the feet of the unsus- 204 FAUST. pecting wanderer, and hang upon his shoulders when he fell ! Transform him again into his favorite likeness, that he may crawl upon his belly in the dust before me, — that I may trample him, the outlawed, under foot! Not the first ! O woe ! woe which no human soul can grasp, that more than one being should sink into the depths of this misery, — that the first, in its writhing death-agony under the eyes of the Eternal Forgiver, did not expiate the guilt of all others ! The misery of this single one pierces to the very marrow of my life ; and thou art calmly grinning at the fate of thousands ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Now we are already again at the end of our wits, where the understanding of you men runs wild. Why didst thou enter into fellowship with us, if thou canst not carry it out ? Wilt fly, and art not secure against dizziness ? Did we thrust ourselves upon thee, or thou thyself upon us ? FAUST. Gnash not thus thy devouring teeth at me ! It fills me with horrible disgust. Mighty, glorious Spirit, who hast vouchsafed to me Thine apparition, who knowest my heart and my soul, why fetter me to the felon-com- rade, who feeds on mischief and gluts himself with ruin .? MEPHISTOPHELES. Hast thou done ? FAUST. Rescue her, or woe to thee ! The fearfuUest curse be upon thee for thousands of ages ! MEPHISTOPHELES. I cannot loosen the bonds of the Avenger, nor undo SCENE xxin. 205 his bolts. Rescue her ? Who was it that plunged her into ruin ? I, or thou ? (Faust looks around laildly.) Wilt thou grasp the thunder ? Well, that it has not been given to you, miserable mortals ! To crush to pieces the innocent respondent — that is the tyrant- fashion of relieving one's self in embarrassments. FAUST. Take me thither ! She shall be free ! MEPHISTOPHELES . And the danger to which thou wilt expose thyself? Know that the guilt of blood, from thy hand, still lies upon the town ! Avenging spirits hover over the spot where the victim fell, and lie in wait for the returning murderer. FAUST. That, too, from thee ? Murder and death of a world upon thee, monster ! Take me thither, I say, and lib- erate her ! MEPHISTOPHELES. I will convey thee there ; and hear, what I can do ! Have I all the power in Heaven and on Earth ? I will becloud the jailer's senses : get possession of the key, and lead her forth with human hand ! I will keep watch : the magic steeds are ready, I will carry you off. So much is in my power. FAUST. . Up and away ! 206 FAUST. XXIV. NIGHT. Open Field. '?= (Faust aitd Mephistopheles speeding onward on black horses.) FAUST. "V T 7"HAT weave they there round the raven-stone .■' MEPHISTOPHELES. I know not what they are brewing and doing. FAUST. Soaring up, sweeping down, bowing and bending ! MEPHISTOPHELES. A witches'-guild. FAUST. They scatter, devote and doom ! MEPHISTOPHELES. On! on! SCENE XXV. 207 A XXV, DUNGEON. FAUST ^^th a hunch of keys and a lamp^ before an iron door). SHUDDER, long unfelt, comes o'er me ; Mankind's collected woe o'erwhelms me, here. \ She dwells within the dark, damp walls before me. And all her crime was a delusion dear ! What ! I delay to free her ? I dread, once again to see her ? On ! my shrinking but lingers Death more near. {He grasps the lock : the sound of singing is heard inside.) My mother, the harlot,^''^ Who put me to death j My father, the varlet, Who eaten me hath ! Little sister, so good, Laid my bones in the wood. In the damp moss and clay : Then was I a beautiful bird (f the wood; Fly away ! Fly away ! FAUST (unlocking). She does not dream her lover listens near ; That he the rattling chain, the rustUng straw, can hear. {He enters.) zo8 FAUSr. MARGARET (hiding herself on the pallet) . Woe ! woe ! They come. O death of bitterness ! FAUST (whispering). Hush ! hush ! The hour is come that frees thee. MARGARET [throwing herself before him). Art thou a man, then pity my distress ! FAUST. Thy cries will wake the guards, and they will seize thee .' (He takes hold of the fetters to unlock them.) MARGARET (on her knees). Who, headsman ! unto thee such power Over me could give ? Thou 'rt come for me at midnight-hour : Have mercy on me, let me live ! Is 't not soon enough when morning chime has rung? (She rises.) And I am yet so young, so young ! And now Death comes, and ruin ! I, too, was fair, and that was my undoing. My love was near, but now he 's far ; Torn Hes the wreath, scattered the blossoms are. Seize me not thus so violently ! Spare me ! What have I done to thee? Let me hot vainly entreat thee ! I never chanced, in all my days, to meet thee ! FAUST. Shall I outlive this misery? SCENE XXV. MARGARET. 209 Now am I wholly in thy might. But let me suckle, first, my baby ! I blissed it all this livelong night ; They took 't away, to vex me, maybe. And now they say I killed the child outright. And never shall I be glad again. They sing songs about me ! 't is bad of the folk to do it ! There 's an old story has the same refrain ; Who bade them so construe it ? FAUST (falling upon his knees). Here Ueth one who loves thee ever, The thraldom of thy woe to sever. MARGARET (flinging herself bes^e him). let us kneel, and call the Saints to hide us ! Under the steps beside us, The threshold under. Hell heaves in thunder ! The Evil One With terrible wrath Seeketh a path His prey to discover ! FAUST [aloud). Margaret ! Margaret ! MARGARET (attentively listening). That was the voice of my lover ! (She springs to her feet : the fetters fall off) Where is he ? I heard him call me. 1 am free ! No one shall enthrall me. N lo FAUST. To his neck will I fly, On his bosom lie ! On the threshold he stood, and Margaret! calling, Midst of Hell's howling and noises appaUing, Midst of the wrathful, infernal derision, I knew the sweet sound of the voice of the vision ! 'T is I ! MARGARET. 'T is thou ! O, say it once again ! (Clasping him.) 'T is he ! 't is he ! Where now is all my pain ? The anguish of the dungeon, and the chain ? 'T is thou ! Thou comest to save me. And I am saved ! — Again the street I see Where first I looked on thee ; And the garden, brightly blooming. Where I and Martha wait thy coming. Faust (stru^Ungto leave). Come ! Come with me ! MARGARET. Delay, now ! So fain I stay, when thou delayest ! ( Caressing him.) FAUST. Away, now ! If longer here thou stayest. We shall be made to dearly rue it. SCENE XXV. 211 MARGARET. Kiss me ! — canst no longer do it ? My friend, so short a time thou 'rt missing, And hast unlearned thy kissing ? Why is my heart so anxious, on thy breast ? Where once a heaven thy glances did create me, A heaven thy loving words expressed. And thou didst kiss, as thou wouldst suffocate me — Kiss me ! Or I '11 kiss thee ! (She embraces him.) Ah, woe ! thy lips are chiU, And still. How changed in fashion Thy passion ! Who has done me this iU ? (She turns away from him.) FAUST. Come, follow me ! My darting, be more bold : I 'U clasp thee, soon, with warmth a thousand-fold ; But follow now ! 'T is all I beg of thee. MARGARET (turning to him). And is it thou? Thou, surely, certainly ? FAUST. . 'T is I ! Come on ! MARGARET. Thou wilt unloose my chain. And in thy lap wilt take me once again. How comes it that thou dost not shrink from me .' — Say, dost thou know, my friend, whom thou mak'st free.' 212 FAUST. FAUST. Come ! come ! The night already vanisheth. MARGARET. My mother have I put to death ; I 've drowned the baby born to thee. Was it not given to thee and me ? Thee, too ! — 'T is thou ! It scarcely true doth seem- Give me thy hand ! 'T is not a dream ! Thy dear, dear hand ! — But, ah, 't is wet ! Why, wipe it off ! Methinks that yet There 's blood thereon. Ah, God ! what hast thou done ? Nay, sheathe thy sword at last ! Do not afEray me ! FAUST. O, let the past be past ! Thy words will slay me ! MARGARET. No, no ! Thou must outlive us. Now I '11 tell thee the graves to give us : ;Thou must begin to-morrow I The work of sorrow ! The best place give to my mother, Then close at her side my brother, And me a little away, , But not too very far, I pray ! And here, on my right breast, my baby lay ! Nobody else will lie beside me ! — Ah, within thine arms to hide me, That was a sweet and a gracious bliss, But no more, no more can I attain it ! I would force myself on thee and constrain it, SCENE XXV. 213 And it seems thou repellest my kiss : And yet 't is thou, so good, so kind to see ! FAUST. If thou feel'st it is I, then come with me ! MARGARET. Out yonder ? FAUST. To freedom. MARGARET. If the grave is there, Death lying in wait, then come ! From here to eternal rest : No further step — no, no ! Thou goest away ! O Henry, if I could go ! FAUST. Thou canst ! Just will it ! Open stands the door. MARGARET. I dare not go : there 's no hope any more. Why should I fly ? They '11 still my steps waylay ! It is so wretched, forced to beg my living, And a bad conscience sharper misery giving ! It is so wretched, to be strange, forsaken. And I 'd still be followed and taken ! FAUST. I '11 stay with thee. MARGARET. Be quick ! Be quick ! Save thy perishing child ! Away ! Follow the ridge 2.14 FAUST. Up by the brook, Over the bridge, Into the wood, To the left, where the plaak is placed In the pool! Seize it in haste ! 'T is trying to rise, 'T is struggling still ! Save it ! Save it ! Faust. Recall thy wandering will ! One step, and thou art free at last ! MARGARET. If the mountain we had only passed ! There sits my mother upon a stone, — I feel an icy shiver ! There sits my mother upon a stone, And her head is wagging ever. She beckons, she nods not, her heavy head falls o'er ; She slept so long that she wakes no more. She slept, while we were caressing : Ah, those were the days of blessing ! FAUST. Here words and prayers are nothing worth ; I '11 venture, then, to bear thee forth. MARGARET. No — let me go ! I '11 suffer no force ! Grasp me not so murderously ! I 've done, else, all things for the love of thee. FAUST. The day dawns : Dearest ! Dearest ! SCENE XXV. 215 MARGARET. Day ? Yes, the day comes, — the last day breaks for me ! My wedding-day it was to be ! 'm Tell no one thou has been with Margaret ! Woe for my garland ! The chances Are over — 't is all in vain ! We shall meet once again, But not at the dances ! The crowd is thronging, no word is spoken : The square below And the streets overflow : The death-bell tolls, the wand is broken. I am seized, and bound, and delivered — Shoved to the block — they give the sign ! Now over each neck has quivered The blade that is quivering over mine. Dumb lies the world like the grave ! FAUST. O had I ne'er been born ! MEPHISTOPHELES [appears outside). Off ! or you 're lost ere morn. Useless talking, delayinf and praying ! My horses are neighing : The morning twilight is near. MARGARET. What rises up from the threshold here ? He ! he ! suffer him not ! What does he want in this holy spot ? He seeks me ! FAUST. Thou shalt live. 2i6 FAUST. MARGARET. Judgment of God ! myself to thee I give. MEPHISTOPHELES (to FaUST). Come ! or I '11 leave her in the lurch, and thee ! MARGARET. Thine am I, Father ! rescue me ! Ye angels, holy cohorts, guard me,'" Camp around, and from evil ward me ! Henry ! I shudder to think of thee. MEPHISTOPHELES. She is judged ! "'^ VOICE [from above). / She is saved ! MEPHISTOPHELES (to FauST.) Hither to me ! (ffe disappears with Faust ) VOICE (from within, dying away). Henry ! Henry ! NOTES. Denn bei den alten lieben Todten • Braucht man ErklSrang, will man Noten ; Die Neuen glaubt man blank zu verstehn, Doch ohne Dolmetsch wird's auch nicht gehn. .GoETHS. VOL. I. ro INTRODUCTION. IN a work which has been the subject of such extensive and continual comment, the passages which seem to re- quire elucidation have, for the most part, been already de- termined. At every point where the reader is supposed to be doubtful in regard to the true path, not one, but a score of tracks has been prepared for him. From the exhaustive and somewhat wearisome work of Duntzer to the latest crit- ical essay which has issued from the German press, the ref- erences in the text to contemporary events or fashions of thought have been detected ; the words of old or new coin- age have been tested and classified ; and the obscure pas- sages have received such a variety of interpretation, that they finally grow clear again by the force of contrast. My first intention was, to give the substance of German criticism concerning both parts of Faust ; but the further I advanced, the more unprofitable appeared such a plan. The work itself grew in clearness and coherence in proportion as I withdrew from the cloudy atmosphere of its interpreters. I have examined every commentary of importance, from Schubarth (1820) and Hinrichs .(1825) to Kreyssig (1866), with this advantage, at least, — that each and all have led me back to find in the author of Faust his own best com- mentator. After making acquaintance, sometimes at the 2 20 FAUST. cost of much patience, with the theories of many sincere though self-asserting minds, and ascertaining what marvel- lous webs of meaning may be spun by the critic around a point of thought, simple enough in its poetical sense, I have always returned to Goethe's other works, to his correspond- ence (especially with Schiller and Zelter) and his conver- sations, sure of gaining new light and refreshment.* I should only confuse the reader by attempting to set forth all the forms of intellectual, ethical, or theological signifi- cance which have been attached to the characters of Faust. The intention of the work, reduced to its simplest element, is easily grasped ; but if every true poet builds larger than he knows, this drama, completed by the slow accretion of sixty years of thought, may be assumed to have a vaster background of design, change, and reference than almost- anything else in Literature. Like an old Gothic pile, its outline is sometimes obscured in a labyrinth of details. While, in the Notes which succeed, it will now and then be necessary for me to give the conflicting interpretations, I shall endeavor to wander from the text as little as possible, and, even when dealing with enigmas, to keep open a way fast, if not through them. The embarrassing abundance of the material is somewhat diminished for me by the omis- sion of all technical or philological criticism, and my chief task will be to distinguish between those helps which all * I am glad to find that this method, drawn from my own experience, is substantially confirmed by Mr. Lewes, who, in his Life of Goethe (Book VI.), says: "Critics usually devote their whole attention to an exposi- tion of the Idea of Faust ; and it seems to me that in this laborious search after a remote explanation they have overlooked the more obvious and natural explanation furnished by the work itself The reader who has followed me thus far will be aware that I have little sympathy with, that Philosophy of Art which consists in translating Art into Philosophy, and that I trouble myself, and him, very little with ' considerations on the Idea.' Experience tells me that the Artists themselves had quite other objects in view than that of developing an Idea : and experience further says that the Artist's public is by no means primarily anxious about the Idea, but leaves it entirely to the critics, — > who cannot agree upon the point among themselves," NOTES. 221 reaflers require and the points which are interesting only to special students of the work. In many instances, I have simply illustrated the text by parallel passages. Where I have discovered these, in Goethe's works or correspondence, they have often been of service in suggesting (in the absence of any direct evidence) the probable time when certain scenes were written, and thereby the interests or influences which may have then swayed the author's mind. The variation in tone between different parts of the work, though sometimes very delicate, is always perceptible ; and the reader to whom the original is an unknown tongue needs all the side-lights which can be thrown upon its translated forms. The " Paralipomena'' (Supplementary Fragments) to Faust have not heretofore been given by any English translator. Yet in a work of such importance we may also learn from what the author has omitted, not less than from what he has accepted. The variations made in his original design assist us to a clearer comprehension of the design itself. I consider, therefore, that the passages of the " Paralipomena " have, properly, the character of explanatory notes ; and for this reason I have inserted each, as nearly as possible, in its appropriate place, instead of giving them in a body, as in the standard German edition of Goethe. Perhaps the most satisfactory commentary on Faust would be a biography of Goethe, written with special reference to this one work. In the Chronology of Faust (Appendix II.) I have given such particulars' as are necessary to the illus- tration of its interrupted yet life-long growth. It has not been found possible to combine the Notes and the Chro- nology without confusing the material ; yet the two should be taken as parallel explanations, which the reader needs to follow at the same time. In conclusion, let me beg him not to be discouraged, if, on the first reading, the meaning of some passages, and their significance as portions of an "in- commensurable" plan, — as Goethe himself characterized it, — should not be entirelv clear. When he has become 222 FAUST. familiar with the history of the work, and is able to overlook it as a whole, the fitness — or the unfitness — of the multi- tude of parts becomes gradually evident ; the compressed meanings expand into breadth and distinctness; and even those enigmas which seem to defy an ultimate analysis will charm him by dissolving into new ones, or by showing him forms of thought which fade and change as he seeks to re- tain them. NOTES, 1. Dedication. The Dedication was certainly not written earlier than the year 1797, when Goethe, encouraged by Schiller's hearty in- terest in the work, determined to complete the " Fragment " of the First Part of Faust, published in 1790. Twenty-four years had therefore elapsed since the first scenes of the work were written: the poet was forty-eight years old, and the conceptions which had haunted him in his twenty-first year seemed already to belong to a dim and remote Past. The shadowy forms of the drama, which he again attempts to seize and hold, bring with them the phantoms of the friends to whom his earliest songs were sung. Of these friends, his sister Cornelia, Merck, Lenz, Basedow, and Gotter were dead ; Klopstock, Lavater, and the Stolbergs were estranged ; and Jacobi, Klinger, Kestner, and others were separated from him by the circumstances of their lives. Gotter died in March, 1797, and, as it is evident from Goethe's letters to Schiller that he worked upon Faust only in the months of May and June, in that year, the Dedication was probably then written. Nothing of Goethe has been more frequently translated than these four stanzas, — and nothing, I may add, is more diiE.cult to the translator. 224 FAUST. 2. PEEtUDE ON THE STAGE. I am unable to ascertain precisely when this was written : from Goethe's correspondence, some 'inferSi(dfes,"which point to the year 1 798, may be drawn. It is unnecessary to follow the critics in their philosophical analyses of this prelude, which is sufficiently explained by calling it a " poetic pref- ace " to the work. Goschen's edition of Goethe's works, in 1790, had not been a successful venture: the "Fragment" of Faust, although fully appreciated by the few, seemed to have made no impression upon the public, while it had been assailed and ridiculed by the author's many literary enemies. Goethe always published his poeticar works without a pref- ace ; but in the " Prelude on the Stage " he makes use of the characters to contrast the Poet's purest activity vrith the tastes and desires of the Public, two classes of which are represented by the M'anagfera'n'd'Mei"ry- Andrew. The dia- •logne-indicates, in advance, the various elements — imagiha- tion, faricy, shrewd experience, folly, arid " dramatic non- sense " — which will be woven into the work. At the same time, it indirectly admits arid accounts for the author's \ia.- populairity, and the lack of recagnition whidh he still antici- -pates. 3. The posts are sety the booth of hoards completed. The "booth of boards" purposely refers to the rude, transportable puppet theatres in which Goethe first saw Faust represented. There is already a foreshadowing of some oF the qualities of Faust and Mephistopheles in fhe Poet and Manager. 4. They come to look, and they prefer to stare. Goethe writes, in 1 802 ( " Weimarisckes Hoftheater ") : " One can show the public no greater respect than in forbearing to treat it as a mob. The mob hurry unprepared to the theatre, demand that which may be immediately enjoyed, desire to stare, be amazed, laugh, weep, and therefore compel the managers, who are dependent on them, to descend more or less to their level." NOTES. 225 5. Who offers much, brings something unto many. " One should give his works the greatest possible variety and excellence, so that each reader may be able to select something for himself, and thus, in his own way, become a participant." — Goethe to Schiller (1798). 6. This, aged Sirs, belongs to you. It is the Poets whom the Merry-Andrew thus addresses. His assertion of the perpetual youth of Genius is not ironi- cal, but (as appears from the Manager's remarks) is intended as a compliment. " To carry on the feelings of childhood into the powers of manhood, to combine the child's sense of wonder and nov- elty with the appearances which every day, for perhaps forty years, had rendered familiar, — * Both sun and moon, and stars throughout the year, And man and woman,' — this is the character and privilege of genius, and one of the marks which distinguish genius from talent." — Coleridge. 7. From Heaven, across the World, to Hell. Goethe says to Eckermann (in 1827) : " People come and ask, what idea I have embodied in my Faust ? As if I knew, myself, and could express it! ^ From Heaven, across the World, to Hell' — that might answer, if need were; but it is not an idea, only the course of the action." The reference in this line, curiously enough, is to the course of action in the old Faust-Legend, not to the close of the Second Part, the scene of which is laid in Heaven, in- stead of Hell. Yet at the time when the line was written the project of the Second Part — in outline, at least — was completed. Did Goethe simply intend to keep his secret from the reader? 8. Prologue in Heaven Some of Goethe's commentators suppose that this Pro- logue was added by him, from the circumstance that the ro* O 226 FAUST. design of Faust was not understood, in the " Fragment " first published. It appears to have been written in June, 1797, before the " Prelude on the Stage," and chiefly for the pur- pose of setting forth the mora! and intellectual problem which underlies the drama. Although possibly suggested by the Prologue in Hell of two of the puppet-plays, its character is evidently drawn from the interviews of Satan with the Lord, in the first and second chapters of Job. Upon this point, Goethe (in 1825) said to Eckermann; " My Mephistopheles sings a song of Shakespeare ; and why should he not ? Why shoyld I give myself the trouble to compose a new song, when Shakespeare's was just the right . one, saying exactly what was necessary ? If, therefore, the 'ischeme of my Faust has some resemblance to that of Job, that is also quite right, and I should be praised rather than censured on account of it." The earnest reader will require no explanation of the problem propounded in the Prologue. Goethe states it without obscurity, and solves it in ho uncertain terms at the close of the Second Part. The mocking irreverence of Mephistopheles, in the presence of the Lord, although it belongs to the character which he plays throughout, seems to have given some difficulty to the early English transla- tors. Lord Leveson Gower terminates the Prologue with the Chant of the Archangels ; Mr. Blackie omits it entirely, but adds it in an emasculated form, as an Appendix ; while Dr. Anster satisfies his spirit of reverence by printing Der Herr where the English text requires, " The Lord." Coleridge's charge of " blasphemy " evidently refers to this Prologue; but at the time when he made the charge, Coleridge was hardly capable of appreciating the spirit in which Faust was written. It is very clear, from hints which Goethe let fall, that he at one time contemplated the introduction into Faust of the doctrine ascribed to Origen, — that it was possible for Satan to repent and be restored to his former place as an angel of light. Falk reports Goethe as saying : " Yet even the clever Madame de Stael was greatly scandalized that I kept the NOTES. 227 devil in such good-humor. In the presence of God the Father, she insisted upon it, he ought to be more grim and spiteful. What will she say if she sees him promoted a step higher, — nay, perhaps, meets him in heaven .' " On another occasion, he exclaimed (if we may trust Falk) : "At bottom, the most of us do not know how either to love or to hate. . They ' don't like ' me ! An insipid phrase ! — I don't like them either. Especially when, after my death, my Walpur- gis-Sack comes to be opened, and all the tormenting Stygian spirits, imprisone>4 until then, shall be let loose to plague all even as they pi? %d me ; or if,.in the continuation of Faust, they should happen to come upon a passage where the Devil himself receives Grace and Mercy from God, — that, I should say, they would not soon forgive ! " 9. Chant of the Archangels. The three Archangels advance in the o^er of their dignity, as it is given in the "Celestial Hierarchy" of Dionysius Areopagita; who was also Dante's authority on this point (Paradiso, Canto XXVIII). Raphael, the inferior, com- mences, and Michael, the chief, closes the chant. Shelley speaks of this " astonishing chorus," and very truly says : " It is impossible to represent in another lan- guage the melody of the versification : even the volatile strength and delicacy of the ideas escape in the crucible of translation, and the reader is surprised to find a caput mar- tuum.'' I shall not, however, imitate Shelley in adding a literal translation. Here, more than in almost any other poem, the words acquire a new and indescribable power from their rhythmical collocation. The vast, wonderful atmosphere of space which envelops the lines could not be retained in prose, however admirably literal. The movement of the original is as important as its meaning. Shelley's transla- tion of the stanzas, however, is preferable to Hayward's, which contains five inaccuracies. The magnificent word Z'^KWfr^K^—" thunder-march'' 2 28 FAUST. (first stanza, fourth line) — had already occurred in a fine line of one of Schiller's earliest poems, ^- " Elysium " : -^ " Berge bebten unter'dessen Dohnd-gatig." 10. Pardon, this trffop' I cariitot follow after. ikephistopheles here refers to the'Chant of the Archan- gels. His mocking spirit is at once raanife^te'd in these linesj'and'in his irohical repetition of "the earliest'day." 11. While Man's desires' clrid a-jp-rations stir. He cannot choose biit err. ^" The (JHginal of this Is'the single, v*f;il-knoWn line': Es irrt der Mensih, so langer strebt. 'It has seeitied tome impossi- ble to give the full tneanirfg of theSe wbrdS — that error is'a natural accompaniment of the struggles and aspirations of Man — in a single lihe. ^Hert, as in a few'othSr places, I do not feel bound to confine myself to the exact measure and limit of the original. The reader maybe interested in com- paring some other versions : — Hayward. — Man is liable to error, while his struggle la.sts. Anster. — Man's hour on Earth is weakness, error, strife. Brooks. — Man errs and staggers from his birth. SwANWicK. — Man, while he striveth, is prone to err. Blackie. — Man must still err, so long he strives. Martin. — Man, while his struggle lasts, is prone to stray. Beresford. — Man errs as long as lasts his strife. Birch. — Man's prone to err in acquisition. (!) Blaze. — L'homme s'egare, tant qu'il cherche son but. 12. A good man, through obscurest aspiration, Has s9ill an instinct of the one true way. In these lines the direction of the plot is indicated. They suggest, in advance, its moral dhiouement. at the close of the Secohd Part. Goethe, on one occasion, compared the " Prologue in Heaven " to the overture of Mozart's Don Giovanni, in Which a certain musical phrase occurs which is NOTES. 229 not repeated until the finale; and his comparison had refer- ence to the idea exjDressed in these lines. 13. But ye, God's sons in love and duty. Here the Lord, turning away from Mephistopheles, sud- denly -addresses the Archangels and the Heavenly Hosts. The expression Das Werdende, in the third following line, which I have translated " Creative Power," means, literally, "that which is developing into being." Shelley, who was not, and did not pretend to be, a good German scholar, en- tirely misses the meaning of the closing quatrain, notwith- standing he avoids the rhymed translation. His lines, " Let'that which ever operates and lives Clasp you within the limits of its love ; And seize with sweet and melancholy thought The floating phantoms of its loveliness," have nothing of the suggestive force and fulness of the origi- nal. Hayward quotes, apparently from a private letter, Carlyle's interpretation of the passage : " There is, clearly, no trans- lating of these lines, especially on the spur of the moment ; yet it seems to me that the meaning of them is pretty dis- tinct. The Lord has just remarked, that man (poor fellow) needs a devil, as travelling companion, to spur him on by means of Denial ; whereupon, turning round (to the angels and other perfect characters), he adds, ' But ye, the genuine sons of Heaven, joy ye in the living fulness of the beautiful (not of the logical, practical, contradictory, wherein man toils imprisoned) : let Beipg (or Existence), which is everywhere a glorious birth, into higher being, as it forever works and lives, encircle you with the soft ties of love ; and whatsoever wavers in the doubtful empire of appearance' (as all earthly things do), ' that do" ye, by enduring thought, make firm.' Thus would Das Werdende, the thing that is a-being, mean no less than the universe (the visible universe) itself ; and I paraphrase it by ' Existence, which is everywhere a birth, into higher Existence,' and make a comfortable enough kind of sense out of that quatrain." 230 FAUST. The intention of the passage, we might suppose, is suffi- ciently clear. It was Goethe's habit, as an author, to quietly ignore the conventional theology of his day : yet Mr. He- raud insists that " The Lord " of the Prologue is the Sec- ond Person of the Trinity, and that the four lines com- mencing with Das Werdende are simply another form of invoking " the fellowship of the Holy Ghost ! " The unusual construction of these lines — the first half implying a benediction, and the second half a command — has been retained in the translation. 14. Fausfs Monologue. This scene, from its commencement to the close pf Wag- ner's interview with Faust, was probably written as early as 1 773. In style , as well as in substance, it suggests the pup- pet-glayrather than the published Faust legend. In Wahr- heit und Dichtung, Goethe says, iiv describing his intercourse with Herder, in Strasburg (1770) : " The puppet-play echoed and vibrated in many tones through my mind. I, also, had gone from one branch of knowledge to another, and was early enough convinced of the vanity of all. I had tried life in many forms, and the experience had left me only the more unsatisfied and worried. I now carried these thoughts about with me, and indulged myself in them, in lonely hours, but without committing anything to writing. Most of all, I concealed from Herder my mystic-cabalistic chemistry, and everything connected with it." The text of various puppet-plays, which has been recov- ered by Simrock, Von der Hagen, and other zealous German scholars, enables us to detect the source of Goethe's concep- tion, — the original corner-stone whereupon he builded. In the play, as given in Ulm and Strasburg, there is a brief Prologue in Hell, in which Pluto orders the temptation of Faust. Notwithstanding the variation of the action in the different plays, the opening scene possesses very much the same character in all of them. As performed by Schiitz, about the beginning of this century, Faust is represented as seated at a table, upon which lies an open book. His NOTES. 231 soliloquy commences thus : " With all my learning, I, Johannes Faust, have accomplished just so much, that I must blush with self-shame. I am ridiculed everywhere, no one reads my books, all despise me. How fain am I to become more perfect ! Therefore I am rigidly resolved to instruct myself in necromancy." In Geisselbrecht's puppet-play, Faust also sits at a table and turns over the leaves of a book. He says : " I seek for learning in this book and cannot find it. Though I study all books from end to end, I cannot discover the touchstone of wisdom. O, how unfortunate art thou, Faust ! I have all along thought that my luck must change, but in vain Fatherland ! thus thou rewardest my industry, my labor, the sleepless nights I have spent in fathoming the mysteries of Theology ! But, no ! By Heaven, I will no longer delay, 1 will take upon myself all labor, so that I may penetrate into that which is concealed, and fathom the mysteries of nature ! " • In the Augsburg puppet-play, Faust exclaims : " I, too, have long investigated, have gone through all arts and sciences. I became a Theologian, consulted authorities, weighed all, tested all, — polemics, exegesis, dogmatism. All was babble : nothing breathed of Divinity ! I became a Jurist, endeavored to become acquainted with Justice, and learned how to distort justice. I found an idol, shaped by the hands of self-interest and self-conceit, a bastard of Justice, not herself I became a Physician, intending to learn the human structure, and the methods of supporting it when it gives way ; but I found not what I sought, — I only found the art of methodically murdering men. I became a Philosopher, desiring to know the soul of man, to catch Truth by the wings and Wisdom by the forelock ; and I found shadows, vapors, follies, bound into a system ! " The reader is referred to the " Faust-Legend " (Appen- dix I.) for further information concerning these plays. I have given the above quotations, to indicate Goethe's start- ing-point — which is also his point of divergence — from the popular story. 232 FAUST. I have also added the opening scene of Marlowe's " Faus- tus " (Appendix III.) for the sake of convenient compari> son. 15. Fly! Up, and seek the broad, free land ! " Moreover, there are forces which increase one's prodiic. tiveness in rest and sleep ; but thdy are also found in move, ment. There are such forces in water, and especially in the atmosphere. In the fresh air of the open fields is where we properly belong ; it is as if the Spirit of God is there imme- diately breathed upon man, and a divine power exercises its influence over him.'' — Goethe to Eckermann ( 1828). 16. From Nostradamus^ very hand. The astrologer Nostradamus (whose real, name was Michel de Notre-Dame) was born at St. Remy, in Provence, in the year 1503. At first celebrated as a physician, he finally devoted himself to astrology, and published, in 1555, a collection of prophecies in rhymed quatrains, entitled Les Prophecies de Michel Nostradamus, which created an imme- diate sensation, and found many believers ; especially as the death of Henry II. of France seemed to verify one of his mystical predictions. He was appointed physician to Charles IX. and continued the publication of his prophe- cies, asserting, however, that the study of the planetary aspects was not alone sufficient, but that the gift of second- sight, which God grants only to a few chosen persons, is also necessary. He died in the year 1566; and even as late as the year 1781 his prophecies were included in the Roman Index Expurgatorius, for the reason that they declare the downfall of the Papacy. 17- The Sign of the Macrocosm. The term " Macrocosm " was used by Pico di Mirandola, Paracelsus, and other mystical writers, to denote the uni- verse. They imagined a mysterious correspondence between •the Macrocosm (the world in large) and the Microcosm (the world in little), or Man ; and most of the astrological theo- ries were based on the influence of the former upon the latter NOTES. 233 From some of Goethe's notes, still in existence, we learn that during the time when the conception of Faust first occupied his mind (1770-73), he read Welling's Ofus Mago- CahhalisHaim, Paracelsus, Valentinus, the Aurea Catena Ho- meri, and even the Latin poet Manilius. Mr. Blackie, in his Notes, quotes a description of the Macrocosm from a Latin work of Robert Fludd, published at Oppenheim in 1619; but the theory had already been given in the Heptaflus of Pico di Mirandola (about 1490). The universe, according to him, consists of three worlds, the earthly, the heavenly, and the super-heavenly. The first includes our planet and its enveloping space, as far as the orbit of the moon ; the second, the sun and stars ; the third, the governing Divine influences. The same phenom- ena beldftg to each, but have different grades of manifesta- tidn. Thus the physical element of fire exists in the earthly sphere, the warmth of the sun in the heavenly, and a seraphic, spiritual fire in the empyrean ; the firs(»burns, the second quickens, the third loves. " In addition to these three worlds (the Macrocosm)," says Pico, " there is a fourth (the ■Microcosm), containing all embraced within them. This is •Man, in whom are included a body formed of the elements, a heavenly spirit, reason, an angelic soul, and a resemblance to God." The work of Cornelius Agrippa, De Occulta Philosophia^ which was also known to Goethe, contains many references to these three divisions of the Macrocosm, and their recip- rocal influences. The latter are described in the passage commencing : " How each the Whole its substance gives ! " Hayward quotes, as explanatory of these Unes, the follow- ing sentence from Herder's Ideen zur Philosophie der Ge- schichte der Menschheit: "When, therefore, I open the great book of Heaven, and see before me this measureless palace, which alone, and everywhere, the Godhead only has power to fill, I conclude, as undistractedly as I can, from the whole to the particular, and from the particular to the whole." The four lines which Faust apparently quotes ("What "^^s the slige, H6w first I recognize") are not from Nostra- 234 FAUST. damus. They may possibly have been suggested by some- thing in Jacob Boehme's first work, " Aurora, or the Rising Dawn," but it is not at all necessary that they should be an actual quotation. l8. The Sign of the Earth-Spirit. " The Archaeus of the Orphic doctrine, the spirit of the elementary world, of the powerful, multiformed earthly uni- verse, to which Faust feels himself nearer." — DUntzer. " The mighty and multiform universality of the Earth itstM." — Falk. " But few succeed in calling up, that is to say, grasping in inspired contemplation, — the Earth-Spirit, the spirit of History, of the movement of the human race ; and still fewer is the number of those who can endure the ' form of flame,' — whose individuality is strong enough not to be swallowed up in it." — KreysHg. 19. In the tides of Life, in Action's storm. This chant of the Earth-Spirit recalls the " Creative Power which eternally works and lives " in the Prologue in Heaven. The closing line may have been suggested by a passage in the work, De Sensu Rerum, of the Dominican monk, Campa- nella : •' Mundus ergo totus est sensus, vita, anima, corpus statua Dei altissimi." The " living garment of the Deity," however, is a much finer expression. The Spirit's chant probably lingered in Shelley's memory, when he wrote : — " Nature's vast frame -~ the web of human things. Birth and the grave." 20. O Death ! — / know it — '/ is my Famulus ! The Latin word famulus (servant) was applied, in the Middle Ages, to the shield-beaj-ers of the knights, and also to persons owing the .obligation of service to the feudal lords. The Famulus of Faust, however, is at the same time a student, an amanuensis, an assistant in his laboratory, and a servitor, in the academic sense. The term is still applied, NOTES. 235 in the German Universities, to those poor students who fill various minor offices for the sake of eking out their means by the small salaries attached to them. 21. Wagner. The name — and perhaps also the primal suggestion of the character — of Faust's Famulus is taken from the old legend, in which Christopher Wagner (see Appendix I.), after Faust's tragic end, succeeds to his knowledge and en- ters on a similar, if not so brilliant a career. It is an interesting coincidence that one of Goethe's early associates, during his residence in Strasburg and Frankfort, was Heinrich Leopold Wagner (who died in 1779), and who was also an author. Goethe not only read to him the early scenes of Faust, but imparted to him, in confidence, the fate of Margaret, as he meant to develop it ; and Wagner was faithless enough to make use of the material for a tragedy of his own — The Infanticide — which was published in 1776. Schiller's poem, with the same title (apparently sug- gested by Wagner's play), and Burger's ballad of " The Pastor of Taubenheim's Daughter," in which the subject is very similar, were both written in the year 1781. According to Hinrichs, Faust represents Philosophy, and Wagner Empiricism. Diintzer calls the latter " the repre- sentative of dead pedantry, of knowledge mechanically ac- quired " ; while other critics consider that he symbolizes the Philistine element in German life, — the hopelessly material, prosaic, and commonplace. Deycks says of Wagner : " Mis thoroughly prosaic nature forms the sharpest contrast to Faust, and it is impossible for him to enter into any rela- tion with Mephistopheles, because he restricts himself tn beaten tracks, and is repelled by all tricksy wantonness, even by all fresh, natural indulgence. He is the driest caricature of pure rational, formal knowledge, without living thought or poetry, and especially without religion." It was probably enough for Goethe that Wagner furnishes a dramatic contrast of character, — a foil to the boundless ideal cravings of Faust. He betrays his nature in the very 236 FAUST. first words he utters, and is so admirably consistent through- out, that the reader is never at a loss how to interpret him. 22. Where ye for men twist shredded thought like paper. This line, which reads, literally, " In which ye twist (or curl) paper-shreds for mankind," has been curiously mis- understood by most translators. The article der before Menschheit was supposed by Hayward to be in the genitive instead of the dative case, and he gives the phrase thus : " in which ye crisp the shreds of humanity " ! Blackie even says " the shavings of mankind," and most of the other English versions repeat the mistake, in one or another form. In the French of Blaze and Stapfer, however, the reading is correct. Goethe employs the ynoxA Schnitzel (shreds or clippings) as a contemptuous figure of speech for the manner in which thought is presented to mankind in the discoui-ses described by Faust. Therefore by using the expression "shredded thought " in English, the exact sense of the origirial' is pre- served. 23. Ah, God! but Art is long. Goethe was very fond of using the " ars longa, mta brevis " of Hippocra,tes. It occurs again in Scene IV., where he puts it into the mouth of Mephistopheles. The American reader is already familiar with the phrase, from Mr. Long- fellow's beautiful application of it, in his " Psalm of Life." 24. Or, at the best, a Punch-and-fudy play. The German phrase, Haupt-und Stoats-action, was applied, about the end of the seventeenth century, to the popular puppet-plays which represented famous passages of history. It seems to have been, originallj', a form of announcement invented by some proprietor of a wandering puppet-theatre, and may therefore be equivalently translated, as a " First- Class Political Performance ! " The phrase was afterwards applied to plays acted upon the stage, and Goethe even makes use of it to designate Shakespeare's historical dramas. In the puppet-plays the heroic figures (Alexander, Pompey, NOTES. 2.X1 Charlemagne, etc.) were in the habit of uttering the most grandiloquent, oracular sentences ; they were as didactic in speech as they were reckless and melodramatic in action. The word pragmatical, which I have adopted as it stands in the original, has a somewhat different signification in Ger- man. It indicates — here, at least — a pedantic assumption and ostentation, in addition to the sense of meddleso^ie inter- ference which it possesses in English. 25. Ifa!ue evermore bee,n crucified and burned. "There were need," said I, " of a second Redeemer com- ing, to deliver us from the austerity, the discomfort and the tremendous pressure of the circumstances under which we live." " If he should come," Goethe answered, " the peojjle would crucify him a second time." — Goethe to Eckermami, 1829. 26. That so our learned talk might be extended. In " Faust : a Fragment," published in 1 790, Wagner's conversation terminates with this line. The first four lines of Faust's following soliloquy are then added, and the scene suddenly ends. Then we abruptly break, upon the conver- sation between Faust and Mephistopheles, in Scene IV., at the line, " And all of life for all mankind created." The remainder of the Monologue, the scene before the city- gate, the first scene in Faust's study, and all of the second as far as the line just quoted, were first published in the completed edition of _ 1808. It is very certain, however, that portions of these omitted scenes were written before 1790, and were then withheld on account of tbpir incomplet^nes.s. 27. A thunder-word hath sweft me from my, stand. Faust here refers to the reply of the: Earth-Spirit: — ' ' Thou *rt like the spirit which thou comprehendest. Not me I " The overwhelming impression produced upon him by this, 238 FAUST. phrase is only suspended during Wagner's visit, and now works with renewed force upon his morbid mood, until it swells to a natural climax. 28. And here and there one happy man sits lonely. In the conversations of Goethe, recorded by Eckermann, Riemer, and Falk, he more than once, in referring to his early impressions of life, repeats the pessimistic idea con- tained in these lines. This was one of the causes which stirred in him the resolution to achieve, as far as possible, his own independent development. The subjective charac- ter of the early scenes of Faust is so clearly indicated that we should have recognized it without Goethe's admission. In 1826, he said to Eckermann : " In Werther and Faust, I was obliged to delve in my own breast ; for the source of that which I communicated lay near at hand." 29. Sought mice the shining day, and then in twilight dull. The two adjectives in this line are leicht (easy, buoyant) and schwer (heavy). Hartung thinks that the former is a misprint for licht (shining, bright) ; but he is evidently mis- taken, since the adjectives are chosen to express opposite qualities, and the phrase lichten Tag occurs in the sixth line following. I have chosen English words which are not pre- cisely literal, but, by their antithetic character, convey a similar meaning. 30. Earn it anew, to really possess it ! It was a favorite maxim of Goethe that no man can really possess that which he has not personally acquired. He considered his own inherited wealth and the many opportu- nities of his life as means, the value of which must be meas- ured by the results attained by their use. On one occasion he said : " Every bon mot which I have uttered, has cost me a purse of money ; half a million of my private property has run through my hands, to enable me to learn what I know — not only the entire estate of my father, but also my salary and my considerable literary income for more than fifty NOTES. 239 years." At the close of the Second Part, he makes the aged Faust say : — " He only earns his freedom and existence, Who daily conquers them anew." 31. On earth'' s fair sun I turn my back. Here, again, Goethe recalls a phase of his own psychologi- cal experience, which he describes at some length in Wahr- Aeit und Dichtmig C^odk XIII.). Even before Jerusalem's suicide at Wetzlar had furnished him with the leading idea of Werther, he had been drawn, by what he calls the gloomy element in English literature, — especially by Hamlet, Young's Night Thoughts, and the melancholy rhapsodies of Ossian, — to study the phenomena of self-murder and apply them, in imagination, to himself. Among all the instances with which he was acquainted, none seemed to him nobler than that of the Emperor Otho, who, after a cheerful banquet with his friends, thrust a dagger into his heart. " This was the only deed," he says (and in what follows, L suspect, there is as much Dichtung as Wahrheit], "which seemed to me worthy of imitation, and I was convinced that one who could not act like Otho had no right to go voluntarily out of the world. Through this conviction I rescued myself both from the intention and the morbid fancy of suicide, which haunted an idle youth in those fair times of peace. I possessed a tolerable collection of weapons, wherein there was a valuable, keen-edged dagger. This I placed con- stantly beside my bed, and, before putting out the light, endeavored to try whether it was possible to pierce my breast, an inch or two deep, with the sharp point. Since, however, the experiment never succeeded, I finally laughed at myself, discarded all hypochondric distortions of fancy, and determined to live." 32. Chorus of Angels. In this first chorus I have been forced, by the prime neces- sity of preserving the meaning, to leave the second line un- 240 FAUST. rhymed. The word' schleichenden, in the fourth line, which I have endeavored to express by " clinging '' (Haywiard has "creeping," Blackie" tbrouglj his veins creeping," and Dr. Hedge "trailing"), is nearly equivalent tp the English phrase " dogging one's steps." The first of the three Angelic / Choruses rejoices over Christ's release from Mortality, the / second exalts him as the " Loving One," and the tljird cele- I brates his restoration to the Divine creative activity. Goethe heard a similar chaijt sung by the comiijon, people in Rome, in the year 1788; but hi? immediate model was undoubtedly the German Easter-hyiun of the Mid41e Ages,, many variations of which are given iiv Waqk^rnagel's worl;. Qne of these, dating from, the tlj^t^e^th. ceutuj-y, thus com- mences : — " Christus ist erstanden gewaerliche von dem tot, von alien sinen Banden ist er erledig5t." [Christ is arisen verily from death ; From all his bonds is he released.] The universal Easter greeting, at this . day, among . the Greeks, is Christos aneste I and the answer : alethos aneste ! The same custom prevails throughout Russia, and ii) some parts of Catholic Germany. In 1772, Goethe, writing to Kestner on Christmas Day, says : " The watchman on the tower trumpeted his hymn and awakened me : Praised be thou, Jesus Christ ! I dearly love this time of the year, and the hymns that are sung." 33. And prayer dissolved me in a fervent bliss. Again Goethe recalls his own early memories. These lines describe the religious exaltation excited in his boyish nature by Fr'aulein von Klettenburg, whom he has intro- duced into Wilhelm Meister (Book VI.), in the " Confessions of a Fair Spirit." The above line suggests a passage of this episode : " Once I prayed, out of the depth of my heai;t : NOTES. 241 ' now, Almighty One, give me faith ! ' I was then in the condition in which one must be, but seldom is, when one's prayers may be accepted by God. Who could paint what I then felt ! A powerful impulse drew my soul to the Cross, on which Jesus perished. Thus my soul was near to Him who became Man and died on the Cross, and in that mo- ment I knew what faith is. ' This is faith ! ' I cried, and sprang up, almost as in terror. For such emotions as these, all words fail us." 34. Is He, in glow of birth. Rapture creative near ? These two lines, in the original, are a marvel of com- pressed expression. The closest literal translation is : " Is He, in the bliss of developing into (higher) being, near to the joy of creating," — that is, the bliss of being born into the higher life to which He has ascended is scarcely less than the joy of the Divine creative activity. The Disciples, left behind and still sharing the woes of Earth, bewail the beatitude which parts Him from them. The final Chorus of the Angels, which follows, is a stum- bling-block to the translator, on account of its fivefold dac- tylic rhyme. The lines are, literally': — Actively praising him, Manifesting love, Brotlierly giving food. Preaching, travelling, Promising blessedness. To you is the Master near. To you, He is here ! In order to retain the rhyme, I have been obliged to express a little more prominently the idea of " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of one of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me," — which is implied in the original. Dr. Hedge, I believe, is the only one who has hitherto endeav- ored to reproduce the difficult structure of this Chorus. He thus translates the five rhymes : — VOL. I. 1 1 P 242 FAUST. " Active in charity Praise liim in verity I His feast, prepare it ye I His message, bear it ye ! His joy, declare it ye ! " 35. Before the City-Gate. Goethe's landscapes, like those of an artist, were always drawn from real studies ; * and some of his commentators, therefore, have tried to discover the original of this scene, Strasburg, Frankfurt, and even Weimar, have been sug- gested ; but the first of these places, on the level plain of the Rhine, does not fit the description ; while, judging from internal evidence, the opening of the scene must have been written before Goethe's migration to Weimar. Such fea- tures as the river and vessels, the ferry, the suburban places of resort, and the view of the town from a neighboring height, indicate Frankfurt j and the gay, motley life of the multitude is another point of resemblance. 36. ' Tis true, she showed me, on Saint Andrew's Night. St. Andrew's Night is the 29th of November. It is cele- brated, in some parts of Germany, by forms of divination very similar to those which are practised in Scotland on Hallow E'en (October 31st). The maidens, as in Keats's Eve of St. Agnes, believe that by calling upon St. Andrew, naked, before getting into bed, the future sweetheart will appear to them in a dream. Another plan is, to pour melted lead through the wards of a key wherein there is the form of a cross, into a basin of water fetched between eleven o'clock and midnight : the cooling lead will then take the form of tools which indicate the trade of the destined lover. 37. She showed me mine, in crystal clear. A magic crystal, sometimes in the form of a sphere, but * Tile scene of his Elective Ajffinzties, for instance, has recently been discovered at Wilhelmsthal, near Eisenach. Not only the castle, park, and lake, but even the wood-paths and the minutest features of the sur- rounding landscape, are described with almost topographical exactness NOTES. 243 frequently, no doubt, as a lens, was employed for the pur- pose of divination. The methods, in fact, were varied to suit the superstition which employed them. In Pictor'a " Varieties of Ceremonial M;^gic " (given in Scheible's Klos- ter), twenty-seven forms of divination are described at length, bi\t Crystallomancy is npt among them. The anciej^ts enj- ployed between forty and. fifty different methods. 38.. Released from ice are brook and river. If tljis passage was not added, or at least re-written, be- tween 1797 and i8p8, — as is possible, — it is interesting as ore of the first evid,ei;!.i;es, of Goethe's interest in Color, an interest which finally developed into a passion, and quite deceived him in regard to the importance of his observations. His Farhenlehre (Science of Colors) was commenced in 1790 and completed in 1805, the year of Schiller's death, although it was not published for four or five years afterwards. Either, therefore, the allusions to color in this early scene harmo- nized with the author's later views, or they were afterwards chapged for the sake of harmony. 39. All for the dance the shepherd dressed. There is a reference to this song of the shepherds in Wil- /lelm Meister (Apprenticeship), where Philine says : " ' Old man, dost, thou know the melody : " All for the dance the shepherd dressed " ? ' ' Oh, yes,' he replied, ' if you will sing and represent the song, I shall not fail in my part.' Philine arose and stood in readiness. The old man struck up the melody, and she sang a song which we cannot communicate to our readers, because they perhaps might find it absurd or even improper." This portion of Wilhelm Meister was published in 1795, which is another evidence of the early origin of the scene. The graceful measure of the song, which nevertheless expresses the roughest realism of Ger- man peasant-life, can only be approximately given in another language. This episode, also, is suggested by Goethe's earliest mem- ovies of the various popular festivals, in Frajikfurt. In Wahr- 244 FAUST. heii und Dichtung (Book I.), he says : " On the right bank of the Main, below the city, there is a sulphur spring, neatly enclosed, and surrounded with immemorial linden-trees. Not far from it stands the ' Good People's Hall,' formerly an hospital, built on account of this spring. The cattle of the neighborhood were brought together upon the adjoining commons, on a certain day of the year, and the herdsmen, with their maidens, had a rural festival, with dances and songs, with merriment and rough pranks. . . . The nurses and maids, who are always ready to treat themselves to a walk, never failed, from our earliest years, to take us with them to such places, so that these country diversions are among the very first impressions which I now recall.'" 40. Sir Doctor, it is good of you. It is very rarely that the first and third lines of a quatrain are unrhymed in German. I have no doubt that Goethe in- tended to represent, by a less musical verse, the more pro- saic nature and speech of the common people. The words he employs in the two addresses of the Old Peasant are the simplest and plainest ; the tone of the verse is entirely that of prose. 41. Then also you, though but a youth. Diintzer conjectures that Goethe derived the idea of this helpful activity of Faust, upon which rests the episode with the peasants, from the history of Nostradamus. In the year 1525, when the latter was twenty-two years old, Provence was devastated by a pestilence. The young physician went boldly from house to house, through the villages, and saved the lives of many of the sick, himself escaping all infection. 42. There was a Lion red, a wooer daring. The jargon of the mediaeval alchemists, from Raymond LuUy to Paracelsus, is used in this description. The system taught that all substances, especially metals, had either mas- culine or feminine qualities, as well as inherent affinities and antipathies. Campanella's doctrine, that all the elements of NOTES. ■ 24S matter were endowed with sense and feeling, was very gen- erally adopted by his successors in the art. Goethe drew his description of the preparation of the panacea partly from Paracelsus, and partly from Welling's Opus Mago-Cabbalis- ticum. The " Lion red " is cinnabar, called a " wooer daring " on account of the action of quicksilver in rushing to an intimate union (an amalgam) with all other metals. The Lily is a preparation of antimony, which bore the name aiLilium Para- cehi. Red, moreover, is the masculine, and white the femi- nine color. The alembic containing these substances was first placed in a " tepid bath " — a vessel of warm water — and gradually heated ; then " tormented by flame unsparing " {" oj^en flame," in the original), the two were driven from one " bridal chamber " to another, — that is, their wedded fumes were forced, by the heat, from the alembic into a glass retort. If then, the " young Queen," the sublimated com- pound of the two substances, appeared with a brilliant color — ruby or royal purple being most highly esteemed — in the retort, "this was the medicine." The product reminds us of calomel, which is usually formed by the sublimated union of mercury and chlorine. 43. If there be airy spirits near. In his conversations, Goethe more than once speaks of his youthful belief in spirits, even relating circumstances when he fancied their presence was manifested to him ; and Riemer considers that this passage is simply an expression of such belief Diintzer, on the other hand, insisted that Faust refers to the sylphs, or spirits of the air, as they were recognized in the theories of the alchemists. I think it much more probable that the following passage, from the Faust- legend in its oldest form (Frankfurt, 1587), lingered in Goethe's memory. Faust says to Mephistopheles : " My servant, declare what spirit thou art ! " The spirit answered and said : " / am a spirit, and a flying spirit, potently riding under the heavens ! " In the four lines of the text, followed by the wish for a magic mantle (such as Mephistopheles 246 FAUST. afterwards fdrriishes), Faust unconsciously invokes the spirit Vvhich is already lying in wait for him, and Which, thils invited, appears immediately in the form of a black dog. Wagner, however, who comprehends nothing but the dry lore with which. he is crammed, sees in Faust's words only a reference to the weather-spirits, and thereupbh pompously airs his own knowledge of the latter. The ex'pfessioh, iii the preceding couplet, that oHe part of Faust's dual spirit sweeps upwards " into the high ancfestral Spaces," suggests, equally, a passage in the Augsburg pup- pet-play. He is there made to exclaim : " Invisible Spirits, receive me ! I soar to your dominion. Yes, I Will lift my- self out of this wretched atmosphere, which is only for com- mon men ! " 44. Swift from the North the spirit-fangs so sharp. The belief in evil spirits inhabiting the nether regions of the atmosphere is very ancient. Paul calls Satan " the prince of the power of the air " (Ephesians ii. 2), and thus gives Christian currency to a much older superstitioh. In the poem Zodiacus Vita, of Marcellus Palingenius (written about the year 1527), the different atmospheric demons are minute- ly described. Their names are Typhurgus (Mist-bringer), Aplestus (the Insatiable), Philokreus (Lover of Flesh), and Miastor (the Befouler). Wagner's classification indicates the effects of the four Winds upon the weather and the hu- man frame. In Germany, the east wind is dry and keefi, and the west wind brings rain. Hayward, in his Notes, quotes the followihg additional authorities : — " The spirits of the aire will mix themselves with thun- der and lightning, and so infest the clyme where they raise any tempest, that soudainely great mortality shall ensue to the inhabitants." — Pierce Pennilesse his Supplica- tion, 1592. " The air is tiot so full of flies in summer, as it is at all times of invisible devils : this Paracelsus stiffly maintains.'" ■'— Burton, Anat., Part I. NOTES. a^y 45. Sfest thou I he black dog coursing there, through corn and stubble 'i The appearance of Mephistopheles in the form of a dog is a part of the old legend. Manlius, in the report of his con- versation with Melancthon, quotes the latter as having said : " He (Faust) had a dog vi-ith him, which was the Devil." The theologian, Johann Gast, in his Sermones Conviviales, describes a dinner given by Faust at Basle, at which he was present, and remarks : " He had also a dog and a horse with him, both of which I believe were devils, for they were able to do everything. Some persons told me that the dog frequently took the shape of a servant and brought him food." In some of the early forms of the legend the name of the dog is given as Prcestigiar: he is described in Widmann as large, shaggy, and black, but in other versions he is of a dark red color. The Wagner-legends all agree in giving the latter, as attendant, an evil spirit in the form of a monkey, whom he called Auerhahn (moor-cock). Burns, in Tarn O'Shanter, says : — " A winnock -bunker in the east. There sat auld Nick, in shape o' beast, A iowzie tyke, black, grim, and target 46. 'Tis written : " In the Beginning was the Word" " I need hardly point out to the reader how artfully the poet has managed by making Faust, in his perplexed state of mind, hit upon the most difficult passage in the whole Bible. The dissatisfaction which would thence arise would bring his mind into a fit state for listening to the suggestions of the tempter ; and thus would this precipitate spirit of discontent wrest the words of truth to his own destruction. As to the interpretations he has given us of the AOrOS, they arei as consistent and intelligible as the speculations of human reason, upon one of the most obscure subjects to which it can be directed, can be supposed to be." — Blackie, Notes to his Translation of Faust (London, 1834). This passage is not, as Blackie supposes, a fortunate in- 248 FAUST. spiration of Goethe. It is directly suggested by the legend. In Widmann's " Veritable History of Dr. Faust " (Ham- burg, 1599) I find, in the fifteenth chapter, that Mephistoph- eles thus answers Faust's proposition to discuss with him certain questions of theology : " In so far as it concerns the Bible, which thou again art of a mind to read, there shall be no more permitted to thee than, namely : the first, second, and fifth books of Moses ; all the others, except Job, shall thou let be ; and likewise in the New Testament thou mayst read the three Disciples that write of the deeds of Christ, that is to say, the tax-gatherer, the painter and the doctor (meaning Mattheum, Marcum and Lucam) ; but John shalt thou avoid, and I forbid also the chatterer Paul, and such others as wrote Epistles.'' This prohibition of the Fourth Gospel led Goethe, at once, to the opening verse, the attempt to translate which becomes not only a source of new perplexity to Faust, but also serves to hasten the poodle's transformation. The frag- ments of Faust's soliloquy, showing that his soul is turned towards " the love of God," disturb the evil spirit incorpo- rated with the beast ; but the words of John, to which the spirit has a special antipathy, compel him to betray his presence. The growth and terrible appearance of the poodle suggest a passage in Neumann's " Curious Observations concerning the so-called Dr. Faust " (1702). He says, on the authority of Wier, the pupil of Cornelius Agrippa : " A schoolmaster of Gosslar had learned from Faust, the magician, the formula by which certain verses may be used to imprison the Devil in a glass. In order that he might not risk being inter- rupted, he went one day into a forest ; and while he was in the midst of his invocations, the Devil came unto him in a horrible form, with fiery eyes, a nose curved like a cow's horn, with wild and fearful boar's-tusks, a rough cat's back, and every way frightful." One of the illustrations in Widmann's book represents Mephistopheles appearing to Faust in front of the stove in the latter's study, and conversing with him over the top of a NOTES. 245 fire-screen. The text says that Faust first became aware of the sj^irit as a shadow moving around the stove. 47. The Key of Solomon is good. Solomon's fame as a magician is mentioned by Josephus, and also by Origen, who was acquainted with a work on the manner of citing spirits to appear, ascribed to the Hebrew king. There seems to be no doubt that Solomon was a chief authority with the Jewish exorcists, from whom his name and some of his supposed formulae of invocation were transmitted, until we find them in the Cabbala of the Middle Ages. The Clavicula Salomonis is mentioned by Welling, Paracelsus, and other writers, and some copies have been preserved. It is claimed that the genuine original contained only instructions by which good spirits might be invoked to assist ill good works, but the variations give also the method of summoning evil spirits. In Faust's Dreifacher Hdllen- swang (copied in Scheible's Kloster], the Clavicula Salo- monis is given as it was communicated to Pope Sylvester by Constantine, and translated in the Vatican, under Pope Julius II. It is called " The Necromantic Key of Solomon, or the Key to the Magic Wisdom of Solomon, and to compel the Spirits to every Manner of Service," and commences : " At first, pray (or sing) the following canticum hebraicum — Aba, zarka, maccaf, sofar, holeeh, (segolta), pazergadol," etc. Then follow a number of similar invocations, together with the "Seal of the highest wisdom of Solomon," — a very com- plicated figure of hexagonal form, — which must be held in the hand. Faust, as the reader will remark, employs an entirely different method of exorcism. 48. The Words of the Four be addressed. The universal belief in elementary spirits, during the Middle Ages, was a natural inheritance from the ancient faith. So much of their former half-divinity clung to them that they were assigned an intermediate place between men and genuine spirits. They were supposed to have positive and unchangeable forms, of a finer, more ethereal flesh and II * 2i^o FAUST. blood, and to be soulless, Ellthclmgh the childr'Sn born of their intercourse with human beings received Human souls. Th^ were classified, according to the element in whiclp'they lived, as Salamanders (in Fire), Undines (ih Witer,) Sylphs (in Air), and Gnomes (in Earth). Of thesSj the two latter classes were supposed to be most familiar arid frieridiy. Pope (Rape of the Lock), in his Dedicatory Lett-er to IVIrs. Arabella Fermor, sdys, referring to the Rosicruciahfe : " The best account I know of thetn is in a PYfenth book called Le Comte de Gabalis, which, both in its title and size; is so like a novel, that maiiy of the fair 6ex have fead it for one by mistake. According to these gentlerrien, tHfe four elements are inhabited by spirits, which they call sylphs, gnomes, nymphs, and salamanders. The gnomes, or demons of the earth, delight in mischief '■', but the sylfjhs, whose habita- tion is in the air, are the best'Gbnditioned creatures iniagi- nable." In the first canto of the JRape of the Lock, the passage oc- curs : =^ " For when the fair in all their pride expire, To tlieir first elements their souls retire. The sprites of iiery termagants in flame Mount lip, and fak^ a salariiander's name. Soft, yielding minds to water glide away, And sip, with nymphs, their elemental tea. The graver prude sinks downward to a gnome in search of mischief still on earth to roam. The light coquettes in sylphs aloft repair, And Spbrt and ffuttfer in the fletds of air." In the Comte de Gabalis, to which Pope refers, the four classes of the elementary spirits are very minutely described. It is there stated that they became invisible to the human race through the sin of Adam, that they are more perfect than men, " proud in appearance, but docile in reality, great lovers of science, officious towards sages, intolerant towards fools." Faust, it will be noticed, uses " the Words of the Four," but without effect. He then repeats the adjuration, in an- other and stronger form. Here, however, the word Koiold NOTES. 251 (Gnome) is omitted, and Incuius, the dwarfish, tricksy, household spirit, is substituted. . In German fairy-lore, there is a relationship between the two, but they are not identical. There seems to be no reason for the change ; and, as Goethe attached no great importance to the passage, the rhyme, alone, may have suggested it. 49. Now^ to undisguise thec^ Hear me exorcise thee! The original is : " Thou shalt hear me more strongly ex- orcise ! " Suspecting that Hcv infernal spirit dwells in the beast, Faust makes " the sign " of the cross, and the effect is immediately manifest. Diintzer says, " He presents to him the name of Jesus," — which is certainly a misconcep- tion. Blackie quotes a passage from Cornelius Agrippa, declaring that evil spirits are affrighted by the sign of the cross. Goethe, also, may have remembered the verse in the Epis- tle of James (ii. 19) : "Thou believest that there is one God ; thou doest well : the devils also believe, and tremble." 50. The One, unoriginate. Here Christ is described, but not named. The four lines are, literally : The Unoriginated, Unuttered, Diffused through all the Heavens, Guiltily transpierced. The strong spell is now working upon the spirit ; and the further threat of "the threefold, dazzling glow" — the em- blem of the Divine Trinity — or its ancient mystic symbol, the rayed triangle, sufifices to complete the exorcism. Faust, in the old Hollemwang, says : " Again I command thee. Spirit, by the words of might : Jesus Christ is become flesh — therewith I com]5el thee, and bind thee, and exorcise thee here, through Lucifer and Beelzebub and all the leaders of the hellish host, whatever may be your names." 252 FAUST. 51. Mephistopheles. The original form of this name was Mephostophiles. There has been much discussion in regard to its meaning; but DUntzer's conjecture is probably correct, — that it was im- perfectly formed by some one who knew. little Greek, and was intended to signify not loving the light. The expressions which Mephistopheles uses, in explaining his nature to Faust, would seem to indicate that this was also Goethe's under- standing of the name. Although, in most of the popular Faust-stories, Mephis- topheles is often referred to as " the Devil," it was .well un- derstood that he was only a devil. In " Faust's Miraculous Art and Book of Marvels, or the Black Raven'' (1469), the powers and potentates of the Infernal Kingdom are thus given: King, Lucifer; Viceroy, Belial; Gubernatores, Satan, Beelzebub, Astaroth, Pluto ; Chief Princes, Aziel, Mephis- tophilis, Marbuel, Ariel, Aniguel, Anisel, and Barfael. Goethe took only the name and a few circumstances con- nected with the first appearance of Mephistopheles from the legend : the character, fi-om first to last, in his own creation. Although he sometimes slyly used it (though less frequently than Faust) as a mask through which to speak with his own voice, he evidently drew the germ of some characteristics from his early associate, Merck. His own strong instinct led him to avoid the danger of personifying abstract ideas, by seeking in life for all material which could give a dramatic reality to his characters ; and he did not scruple to take that which was nearest and most intimate. " Merck and I," said Goethe to Eckermann, in :83i, "al- ways went together, like Faust and Mephistopheles All his pranks and tricks sprang from the basis of a higher culture ; but, as he was not a productive nature, — on the contrary, he possessed a strongly marked negative tendency, — he was far more ready to blame than praise, and involun- tarily sought out everything which might enable him to in- dulge his habit." In Wahrheit und Dichtung (Book XII.) Goethe gives a ArOT£S. ,53 careful and doubtless a correct picture of Mei ck's character and temperament. " This singular man,'' he says, " who exercised the greatest influence upon my life, was a native of Darmstadt.* When I first knew him, he was Military Paymaster there. Born with spirit and intelligence, he had acquired much admirable knowledge, especially of modem literature, and had busied himself in all directions and with all the phenomena of Man and History. He had the faculty of sharp and pointed judgment, and was esteemed both as an honest, energetic man of business, and a rapid arithmetician. Thoroughly self-possessed, he appeared everywhere as a most agreeable companion for those to whom he had not made "himself dreaded by his keen, satirical speech. He was long and lean of form ; his prominent, pointed nose was a con- spicuous feature ; keen blue, perhaps gray eyes, observantly moving to and fro, gave something of the tiger to his look "In his character there was a remarkable contradiction. Naturally an upright, noble, worthy man, he was imbittered against the world, and allowed such full sway to this moody peculiarity that he felt an invincible inclination to show him- self wilfully as a waggish knave, — nay, even a rogue. Calm, reasonable, good, one moment, the next he would take a whim, like a snail thrusting out its horns, to do something which offended, aggrieved, or even positively injured another. Yet, as one is attracted to associate with something danger- ous, when one imagines himself to be secure against its at- tack, my own inclination was all the greater to live in his company and enjoy his good qualities, since I felt the most confident presentiment that he would not turn his evil side * He was bom in 1741, and was therefore eight years older than Goethe. He travelled, as a young man, with a Baron von Bibra, married a French woman in Geneva, and then settled in his native town. His literary works were chiefly translations from the English (among them, Addison's Caio), and critical and assthetic papers in the periodicals of the day : but his personal influence upon authors, especially Herder, Goethe, and La- vater, was very great. His domestic life was not happy, his circumstances became embarrassed, and in 1791 he committed suicide. 254 FAUST. towards me. As, on tte one hand, he disturbed society by this morally restless spirit, this continual necessity to deal with men spitefully and maliciously, so, on the other hand, a different Urtrest, which he also carefully nourished within himself, underrnined his own contentmeiit." In Widmann's Faust-book, MephistdpHeles appears in the character Of a, rtioiik. In the GeisselbrecKt puppet-play Faust cdintnands him to put off his 'first terrible form, and says : " Thou mayst come as jurist, as doctor, or as hunter, but it were better that thou appearest as a student." In the Ulm version, when Mephistopheles asks : '■ In what forth shall I appear?" Faust answers: "Like as a man." In the Strasburg play; Faust asks, after having chosen Mephis- topheles : " But Why appearest thou to me under this mask ? I wished for a devil, and not one of my oVvn race." Mephis- topheles answers : " Faust, perhaps we are then wholly dev- ils, when we resemble you ; at least, no other mask suits us better." He thereafter next makes his appearance as d pos- tilion. Goethe's choice of the character of a travelling scholar — or, I should perhaps say, a vagabond Schblar — was prob- ably dictated by the succeeding scene (IV.), which was first written. Another projected scene; given in the Paraltfio- mena (and added in a later note), furnishes additional rea- sons. The travelling scholars of the Middle Age's were a pretentious, adventurous class — the pedantic Bohemians Of those days — who wandered over Europe, maintaining theses, entering into private or public discussions with equal flip- pancy, and siDonging upon the universities and monasteries. The appearance of Mephistopheles in such a form is an iron- ical reflection upon Faust's devotion to learning ; yet the latter is unconscious of this, and his first surprise gives way to a contemptuous laugh. 52. In names like Beehebitb, Destroyer, Father of Lies. In the original, thefirst of these names is given as Fliegen- gott, Fly-god. For the sake of metre, I have substituted our familiar Hebrew eijuivaleivt,- Beelzebub — or, more cor NOTES. 255 rectly, Badhebub. " Destfdyer " and Liar, or " Father of Lies," ate also fifhiliar to us as Abaddon and Satan. Faust irnist be supposed to accept the orders of the infernal hie- rarchy, as ^iven ih the cabalistic writings, whence his en- deavor to identify the patticWlar fiend whom he has invoked. 53. J am the Spirit that Denies. In declaring himself, first, to be part of that power " which always wills the Bad, arid always vporks the Good," Meph- istopHeles is unexpectedly frank. His expression coincides exactly With the declaratioh of The Lord (see page 15), as to the service he is obliged to perforin. IH tMe pitssagfe which follows, he is eqUally honest, and the . above line clearly describes the part which he plays, from beginning to end. He is the Spirit of Negation, and his being exists through oppositioh to the positive Truth, and Order, and Beauty, which proceed from the never-ending creative energy of the Deity. The maskssft-hich we find him assuming in the Second Part oi Faust are all explained by this necessity of Negation. His irreverence and irony are iicit dhly a pStt of His hafure, btit they are further increased by the inipoterice 6f his efforts ^— «rhich he freely admits in the following passages — to disturb the Divine system. Mephistophfeles draws his theory of the primeval darkness from the Theogofly of He'sidd. His reference to " bodies " shows that he understands the physical and spiritual identity Of light and life. Sihce we have seen that, in Widmann's Faust-bOok, hfe prohibits to Faiist the reading of the Gospel of John, we may surmise a connection between his hostility to light and these verses from the first chapter of that Gos- pel : — " In him was life ; and the life was the light of men. " And the light shineth in darkriess ; and the darkness comprehended it not." 54. Froin Water, Earth, and Air unfolding, A thousand germs break forth and grow. " Let men continue to worship Him who gives the ox his 256 FAUST. pasture, and to man food and drink, according to his need. But I worship Him, who has filled the world with such a productive energy, that, if only the millionth part became embodied in living existences, the globe would so swarm with them that War, Pestilence, Flood and Fire would be powerless to diminish them. That is Tny God!" — Goethe to Eckermann, 1 83 1. 55. The wizards-foot that on your threshold made is. In the original, Drudenfuss. Drud, from one root with Druid, was the old German word for " wizard." The wiz- ard's-foot, or pentagram, was supposed to possess an espe- cial potency against evil spirits. It is simply a five-rayed star, thus : — Its efiScacy undoubtedly sprang from the circumstance that it resolves itself into three triangles, and is thus a triple sym- bol of the Trinity. Paracelsus ascribes a similar, though a lesser, degree of virtue to the hexagram. Another pecul- iarity of the pentagram is, that it may be drawn complete from one point, without lifting the pencil, and therefore be- longs to those involuntary hieroglyphics which we some- times make, in moments of abstraction. Thus Tennyson, in The Brook : — " But Katie snatched her eyes at once from mine, And sketching with her slender pointed foot Some figure like a wizard's pentagram On garden gravel, let my query pass." 56. Song of the Spirits. This remarkable chant is known in Germany (Goethe himself being, I believe, the first to so designate it) as the Einschlaferungslied, or Lullaby. It is one of the few things NOTES. 257 in the work which have proved to be a little too much for the commentators, and they have generally let it alone. By dropping all philosophical theories, however, and appl)ing to it only the conditions of Poetic Art, we shall find it easily comprehensible. Faust is hardly aware (although Mephis- topheles is) that a part of his almost despairing impatience springs from the j^ack of all enjoyment of phjj^sical life ; and the first business of these attendant spirits is to unfold be- fore his enchanted eyes a series of dim, dissolving views — sweet, formless, fantastic, and thus all the more dangerously alluring — of sensuous delight. The pictures are blurred, as \ in a semi-dream : they present nothing positive, upon which Faust's mind could fix, or by which it might be startled : but they leave an impression behind, which gradually works it- self into form. The echo of the wild, weird, interlinked mel- ody remains in his soul, and he is not supposed to be con- scious of its operation, even when, in the following scene, he exclaims to Mephistopheles : — , " Let us the sensual deeps explore; ^ To quench the fervors of glowing passion ! " The rhythmical translation of this song — which, without the original rhythm and rhyme, would lose nearly all its value — is a head and heart breaking task. I can only say that, after returning to it again and again, during a period of six years, I can oifer nothing better. 57. I come, a squire of high degree. The word Junker, which Mephistopheles uses, corre- sponds exactly with " squire," as a term of chivalry. In the text of the puppet-play, when he makes his appearance the second time, he is described as wohlgekleidet — respectably dressed His costume on the puppet-stage was a red tunic, under a long mantle of black silk, and a cock's-feather in his hat. Goethe purposely retains this costume, because it is sufiiciently appropriate to his conception of the character, which he expressly declares is too negative to be daimonic. One of the very few hints of his intention which he allowed Q 2s8 FAUST. to escape him occurs in his conversation with an English gentleman in 1825, as reported by Eckermann. "Really," said he, " I should not have advised you to read Faust. It 's fantastic stuff, and transcends all ordinai-y sentiment. But, since you have begun of your own accord, without asking me, you may get through it the best way you can. Faust is so singular an individual that only a few persons can repro- duce his spiritual conditions in their own minds. Then the character of Mephistopheles, through his irony, and as the Hiving result of a vast observation of the world, is also some- thing very difficult to comprehend." Compare, also, the remarks of Mephistopheles to the witch, in Scene VI. : — " Culture, which smooth the whole world lidks, Also unto the Devil sticks." 58. TTiis life of earth, whatetier my attire. Would pain me in its wOJtted fashion. The first fragment of the Paralipotnena possibly belongs here, although there is also a place for it towards the close of the scene. In the following lines, omitted alike in the editions of 1790 and 1808, Mephistopheles continues to ad- vise a change of costume : — MEPHISTOPHELES. When with externals thou art well endowed, All will around thee flock, and flatter ; A chap who 's not a little vain or proud. Had better hang, and end the matter. I have not been able to find any evidence concerning the date of these rejected passages of Faust. Most of the Ger- man critics agree that the first part of the scene, withheld in the first edition, was afterwards materially altered by Goethe ; some of them even venture to point out the portions remain- ing from 1775, and those added in 1798, or later." Since, however, the slight difference of style perceptible in the text must disappear in the translation, it is not necessary to re- peat their views. JSTOTES. 259 59; Tkere^ also, cdmes no rest to me. " When I say, ftly bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint ; " Then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions : " So that my soul chboseth stirahgling, and death rather than my life." — Jobv\\. 13, 14, 15. 60. Chorus of Spirits. Faust's ciirse, which includes even the sentiment of child- ish faith that overcame hiin on the Easter morning, places him, unconsciously, in the power of Mephistopheles. The Chorus of Spirits indicates, in a few powerful lines, his rup- ture with the order of life. The first words of Mephistoph- eles which follow, would lead the reader to suppose that the spirits were infernal, arid tl^us a singular discrepancy be- tween their character and their expressions is implied. Dilnt- zer says : " Their cry of woe and their lament over the beauty of the world, which Faust has shattered, together with his designation as demigod, can only be accepted as a scoffing irony of the spirits, which, equally with Mephistopheles, well know that they can give him no real compensation for the fortune which he has criminally rejected." Deycks's com- ment is less logical : " He (Faust) can only recover through his own act ; in his resolute breast, by clear intelligence, he can create a soil wherefrom new songs will shoot. The Spirits allure to a life of deeds and poetry, to the broad, great world. And Mephistopheles offers himself as a guided In Leutbecher's work, however, I find a hint of what I believe to be the true intention of this Chorus. He says : " The pure spirits who direct the harmonies of existence la- ment over his (Faust's) step, and encourage him to com- mence another and fairer career. But Mephistopheles calls these voices precociously shrewd, and proposes the condi- tions of his compact, promising delights which, in advance, apiiear worthless to Faust." The lament is certainly not ironical ; on the contrary, the course of the drama, as it is 26o FAUST. afterwards developed, is here shadowed forth by the spirits, and Mephistopheles no more comprehends them than Faust He is deceived, as in the Fifth Act of the Second Part. In the Augsburg puppet-play, Faust is attended by a good Genius, who, when he has signed the compact with Mephis- topheles, exclaims : " Woe to thy miserable soul ! " and dis- appears. 6i. A High and Low our souls await. " Oh why must we, in order to speak of such things, use images which only represent external conditions ! Where is there anything high or low, obscure or enlightened, in His sight ? We, only, have an Above and Below, a Day and a Night. And just therein did He (Christ) resemble us, be- cause we should otherwise have no share in Him.'' — JVi/- helm Meister [Confessions of a Fair Spirit). Goethe also places one of these phrases — "And you he dowers with Day and Night ! " — in the mouth of Mephistopheles, after the compact. 62. Show me the fruits that, ere they 're gathered, rot. This passage has given rise to a great deal of discussion. The oifer of Mephistopheles, — " What no man ever saw, I '11 give to thee, — " which provokes Faust's exclamation, is suggested by the puppet-play. In the Strassburg version, Mephistopheles says : " I will fill for thee the goblet of delight, full and foaming, as it never yet has been filled to any mortal." Faust's reply seems to have puzzled many of the commen- tators, some of whom — 3s Deycks, Hartung, Rosencranz and Leutbecher — pass it over with slight notice, while others endeavor to analyze the meaning. The following quotations embrace the principal varieties of interpreta- tion : — I. "I know thy rotten gifts, says Faust. Which of thy fine goods of the earth wilt thou offer me ? How could the like of thee ever be capable of measuring the unquiet of NOTES. 261 man's breast ? Hast thou food to serve up which never sat- isfies ? Or canst thou ouly show trees which daily bloom anew and bud again ? I loathe this foliage of yesterday, this tale which, ever the same, is told in the morning, and in the evening dies away again — 'show me the fruit that rots be- fore it is gathered, and trees that daily renew their green ! ' " —Falk. 2. " The promise of Mephistopheles appears to Faust but mockery. What can a devil give a man to satisfy him, when he is not capable of giving it to himself? The gifts of a. devil, he says, are but delusions, and melt away in the same manner as his quicksilver-like gold ; thus he can only bestow fruits which would not rot before the plucking, but no ever-budding tree sprouts forth beneath his skill and fos- tering." — Schubarth. 3. " The meaning plainly is : — I know well thou, poor devil, hast riches and other fleeting pleasures, that excite our longing only that they may elude our«grasp, that dazzle only to deceive, and whose substantial viforth is always in the inverse ratio of their outward promise. Wouldst thou al- lure me, thou must hold out fruits that rot, not after, but before they are broken, and thus cannot, like the fruits of mere sensuality, deceive us by an external glow when tempt- ing us on the tree, but rotting whenever the hand of enjoy- ment is stretched forth to pluck them. Show me no frail blossom of a fleeting spring, but ' trees which day by day their green repair.' " — Blackie. 4. " The most probable supposition is, that Faust's mean- ing is pretty near the same as in the subsequent speech, in which he expresses a wish to enjoy all that is parcelled out among mankind, pain and pleasure, success and disappoint- ment, indifferently. Taking this wish into consideration, we may well suppose him saying : ' You can give nothing of any real value in the eyes of a man like me ; but if you have the common perishable enjoyments of humanity to bestow, let me have them.'" — Hayward. 5. " Faust admits that the devil has all the different kinds of So(k>m-apples which he has enumerated, gold that melts 262 FAUST. away in the hand, glory that vanishes like a. meteor, and pleasure that perishes in the possession. But all these tor- ments 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." — Brooks. A careful study of the structure of the passage does not permit me to accept any of these interpretations. Omitting the first three lines, the remainder is a single sentence, vio- lently interrupted by a dash ( — ) at the end of the eighth line. The two lines which follow are contemptuous and scornful metaphors, summing up the catalogue of the deceitful gifts which Faust admits Mephistopheles can offer. They simply repeat, in another form, what he has declared in the pre- ceding lines. He commences the enumeration of the pleas- ures whose worthlessness he knows, — gold, love, honor, — then, breaking off impatiently, exclaims, referring to those pleasures : — " Show me the fruits that, ere they're gathered, rot, . And trees that daily with new leafage clothe them ! " These images express the cheating, disappointiiig, inade- quate character of all the usual desires of men, to "a huma^ soul, in its supreme endeavor." "The tone of the passage is keenly scornful and incredulous. Faust seriously desires nothing from Mephistopheles, not even the morbid luxury of self-torment ; and in the bet which he offers, immediately af-. terwards, his reference to " an idler's bed " seems to h^ve been suggested by the words of Mephistophles, rather than by the craving of his own nature for repose. 63. When thus I hail the Moment flying : "Ah, still delay — thou art so fair ! " Here Faust becomes earnest and definite! The one mo- ment of supreme contentment is fo)c him a symbol of wdiless NOTES. 263 capacity for happiness. The wager with Mephistopheles rests upon this couplet, which the reader must bear in his memory until he meets with it again, at the close of the Second Part. There is no condition of this nature in the Faust-legends. The compact there is, that Faust shall have whatever he de- sires for the term of twenty-four years, when he passes, body and soul, into the power of Mephistopheles. The only slight resemblance to this passage, in any of the various versions, may be found in the Strassburg play, where Mephistopheles says : " Faust, have I not said to thee, thou canst thyself break the hour-glass of thy time ? Thou hast done it in this moment." 64. Then at the Doctors' -banquet I, to-day. Mephistopheles refers to the inauguration feast, given on taking a degree. « 65. And all of life for all mankind created. " We are justly told," Goethe continued, " that the culti- vation in common of human capacities is desirable, and also the most important of aims. But man was not born for that ; properly each one must develop himself as a particular-indi- vidual, but also endeavor to attain an apprehension of what all are, collectively." — Eckermann^ 1825. This scene commences with the above line, in the edition of 1 790, and continues to the end in its present form, with- out the change of a word. 66. And I shall have thee fast and sure ! — Goethe frequently makes use of a dash to denote both a change in the address and a movement of the speaker. The passage discussed in Note 62 is already an instance of this peculiarity. Here, Mephistopheles looks, after Faust's re- treating figure, and addresses him as if he were slill present. At the end of the above line, he turns away and continues his soliloquy, speaking of Faust in the ftird person. 264 FAUST. 57. Encheiresin naturje, this Chemistry names. With the introduction of the Student (whom we shall meet again, in the Second Part, as Baccalaicreus), Mephistopheles not only assumes the mantle of Faust, but Goethe also as- sumes the mask of Mephistopheles. The episode, which is wholly his own invention, was written during his intercourse with Merck, and while his experience of academic teaching was still fresh arid far from edifying. He gives the following account (in Wahrheit und Dichfitnif) of his study of logic, at the University of Leipzig : " I was at first diligent and faithful in attending the lectures, but I remained as much in the dark about philosophy as before. In logic, I found it altogether unaccountable why those operations of the mind, which I had from my earliest years performed with the greatest ease, should first be anatomized, individualized, and torn from their natural union, before one could know how to use them Of the subject-matter of God, the world and the soul, I thought I knew just as much as my master, and he seemed to me, on not a few points to be sadly nonplussed." The " Spanish boots," of which Mephistopheles speaks, wej-e instruments of torture used in the Middle Ages. They were cases of wood, into which wedges were driven until the calves of the victim's legs were compressed into the smallest possible space. From logic, Mephistopheles passes to the method of scien- tific investigation, wherein Goethe seems to have remembered the couplet of Pope : — " Like following life in creatures we dissect, We- lose it in the moment we detect." In a conversation with Falk (translated by Mrs. Austin) he expresses corresponding views : " Our scientific men are rather too fond of details. They count out to us the whole consistency of earth in separate lots, and are so happy as to have a separate name for every lot. That is argillaceous earth ; that is quartz ; that is this, and this is that. But what am I the bettA if I am ever so perfect in all these NOTES. 265 names ? When 1 hear them, I always think of the old lines in Faiist, — ' Encheiresin natiirts nenut's die Chemie, Bolirt sich selber Esel, und weiss nicht wis ! ' * " What am I the better for these lots ? what for their names ? I want to know what it is that impels every several portion of the universe to seek out some other portion, — either to rule or to obey it, — and qualifies some for the one part and some for the other, according to a law innate in them all, and operating like a voluntary choice. But this is precisely the point upon which the most perfect and universal silence prevails." In a letter to Wackenroder, Professor of Chemistry at Jena, written in January, 1832, Goethe says : Notwithstand- ing we willingly allow to Nature her secret Encheiresis^ whereby she creates and sustains life, and, although no mystics, we must finally admit the existence of an inscruta- ble something, — yet man cannot, if his ^m be earnest, re- strain himself from the attempt to drive the Inscrutable into such close quarters that he is at least satisfied and willing to confess himself defeated." The phrase encheiresin natura signifies, properly, " a treat- ment of Nature." Here, however, Goethe seems rather to indicate the mysterious, elusive force by which Nature oper- ates. 68. As did the Holy Ghost dictate to thee. The practice of taking notes of the discourses which they hear, is universal among the German students. Many of the Professors encourage it by adopting a very slow, meas- ured style of delivery. The advice of Mephistopheles is the keenest irony upon these formal methods of imparting knowledge. * This was the original form of the couplet, as written. The meaning is the same as in its present form, and the expression " ISohrt sicli selber Esel " (which Diintzer says came from the trick of putting the hands to the sides of the head and wagging them, to represent ass's ears), was probably rejected, because it is pure slang. VOL. I. 13 266 FAUST. 69. On words let your attention centre. In the Witches' Kitchen (Scene VI.) Mephistopheles says : — " Man usually believes, if only words be hears, That also wiih them goes material for Ihinking." Elsewhere, however, Goethe says : " Unfortunately, words are usually mere expedients for man ; he mostly thinks and knows a thing better than he expresses it." In the above passage, Mephistopheles probably refers to "the letter that killeth," and exalts it, in consonance with his character. 70. The little world, and then the great, we 'II see. The programme of both parts of Faust is given in this line. No reference to the cabalistic Microcosm and Macrocosm is intended: "the little world " is here Faust's individual ex- perience of human desires and passions ; he issues from his seclusion to share in the ordinary history of men. This plan is developed, so far as necessary, in the First Part. "The great world " is life on a broader stage of action : in- tellectual forces are substituted for sentiments and passions : the narrow interests of the individual are merged in those of the race ; and Government, War, activity on a grand scale and for universal, permanent ends, succeed, in order that Faust's knowledge of the life of man shall be rounded into completeness. The Second Part of the work is devoted to this latter experience. 71. I feel so small before others, and thence Should always find embarrassments. The following passage is the second of the Paralipotnena, and was undoubtedly designed as an answer to the above lines. It seems to have been written at a later period, and we may conjecture that Goethe omitted the lines because they are not in accord with the manner of Mephistopheles throughout the scene : — NOTES. 267 MEPHISTOPHELES. Learn then from me to meet Society I I come, both cheerful and collected, And every heart is well-affected ; I laugh, and each one laughs with me. Rely, like me, upon your own pretences ; There 's something to be dared, you must reflect : For even women easily forgive offences, If one respectfully forgets respect Not in divining-rods nor mandrake tragic, But in good-humor lies the best of magic : If I 'm in unison with all, I do not see how trouble could befall. Then to the work, and show no hesitation 1 I only dread the preparation. 72 I graiulate thee on thy new career. The "Disputation," which Goethe projected, for the fur- ther and clearer presentation of the characters of Faust, Wagner, and Mephistopheles, was profeably intended to follow this scene. From the rough draught of his plan, retained in the Paralipomena^ the reader may guess, not only the manner in which the rejected scene would have been developed, but also the considerations which compelled its rejection. I shall, therefore, give Goethe's brief and not always (to any but himself) intelligible prose outline, in- serting the half-dozen rhythmical fragments in what appear to be their appropriate places. DISPUTATION. First Semichorus, Second Semichorus, Tutii of the Students, ex- pressing the situation. The crowd, the surging to and fro, the pressing in and out. STUDENTS {luiihin). Just let us out ! our dinners we are seeking. Who speaks, forgets both meat and drink in speaking; But he who hears, grows faint at last. STUDENTS {lvithont\ Just let us in I our stomachs we 've been testing ; At commons vie have sought our cheer. 368 FAUST. Just let us in ! we '11 here do our digesting ; We had no wine, and spirit 's here ! * Wagner, as opponent. He makes a compliment Separate voices. The Rector to the beadle- The beadles command order. The Travelling Scholar (Mephistopheles) enters. Abuses the assembly. Chorus of students, half, entire. Abuses the respondent The latter declines. THE TRAVELLING SCHOLAR. Go out ! come in I Each keep his place in quiet ! Upon this threshold what a riot ! Make room, without ! let those within retire. Then fill their seats as you desire I Faust accepts the challenge. Condemns his swaggering. Demands that be shall particularize. Mephistopheles complies, but immediately begins a praise of vaga- bondage and the experience which it gives. Semichorus. students. He 's of the wandering race, the wight ; He swaggers, yet he 's in the right. Faust. Unfavorable picture of the vagabond. Semichorus. Mephistopheles Forms of knowledge, lacking to the wisdom of the schools. mephistopheles. Who speaks of doubts ? Let me but hear ! Who doubts, must never teach, 't is clear ; Who teaches, must be positive ! Faust. Vv^iBi. o-eaurdi', in the finer sense. Challenges the opponent lo propose questions from experience, all of which Faust will answer. Mephistopheles. Glaciers. Bolognese Fire. Fata Morgana. Beast. Man. Faust. Opposing question : where is the creative mirror? Mephistopheles. CompHment, The answer another time. Faust. Conclusion. Dismi^al. Chorus, as Majority and Minority of the hearers. Wagner's fear, that the spirits may utter what Man supposes is whis- pered to himself. * These are parts of either Semichorus Goethe's reference to the commons is taken from the University of Leipzig, where, during his studies, a large number of the poorer students were gratuitously furnished with a common dinner, but without wine. NOTES. 269 It is also possible that this Disputation may have been designed as a substitute for the conversation between Meph- istopheles and the Student, in which case it must have been projected at Rome, in the spring of 1788. On the ist of March, that year, Goethe writes : " It has been an abun- dant week, and in memory it seems like a month. First, I arranged the plan of Faust," etc. Gbschen's edition of his works, in 1790, was meant to be complete, up to that year, and the publication of Faust, as a " Fragment," in the sev- enth volume, may have been due to that circumstance alone. 73. Auerbach's Cellar in Leipzig. The locality of this scene possesses a double interest, through its connection with the early Faust-legend and with the academic years of the young Goethe. If the stranger who visits Leipzig will seek the large, ancient house. No. I, Grimmaische Strasse, near the Market- Plagp, the sign " Auer- BACHS Keller," nearly on a level with the sidewalk, will guide him down into the two vaulted chambers which have echoed to the wit and song and revelry of four centuries of jolly companions. He may still take Faust's and Goethe's place, at the head of the table in the farther room, order his wine from the seventieth or eightieth successor of the origi- nal landlord, and, while awaiting the preparation of some old-fashioned dish, study the two curious paintings, which have filled semicircular spaces under the arches perhaps since the year 1525. Legends of Faust are as plentiful inGermany as tho.se of kc(bolds or subterranean emperors ; but these pictures, I believe, are the only local records left to our day. Wid- mann's "Veritable History" (1599) mentions the year 1525 as the time when Faust began publicly to practise his magic arts, and the same date upon the pictures may signify either the year when they were painted, or when the event occurred which they illustrate. On this point there is a difference of opinion among the antiquarians, since Faust's fate is men- tioned in the inscriptions. Auerbach's house was rebuilt in 270 FAUST. 1530, but the massive, vaulted cellars were evidently left from the earlier building. The pictures, which were painted by no mean artist, have not only grown very dingy, but they were partly repainted in the years 1636, 1707, and 1759. Under the present inscriptions, which have also been re- newed, there are marks of an older one, probably identical, although this cannot now be established as a fact. The first picture (about ten feet in length by four in height) represents Faust, with a full beard, a ruff around his neck, mantle and fur cap, seated at the head of a table, with a chased goblet in his hand. Next to him is a student who, with lifted arm, is pouring wine from a glass, apparently as a libation. Seven others are seated at the table, two of them about to drink, while five are playing upon musical instru- ments, — a portable clavichord, a lyre, flute, violin, and bass- viol. At the left end of the picture there is a barrel of wine, with a Ganymede in trunk-hose waiting beside it. A small black dog, in the foreground, appears to be watching Faust. Under this picture is the inscription : — VIVE. BIBE. OBGR^GARE. MEMOR FAVSTI HVIVS. ET HVIVS POEN^: ADERAT CLAVDO H^C ASTERAT AMPLA GRADV. 1525. Some of the German scholars read the distich thus : — Vive, bibe, obgrscare, memor Fausti hiijus et hujus Pceiise : aderat claudo bjec, ast erat ampla gradu. (Live, drink, carouse, remembering Faust and his punishment: it came slowly, but was in ample measure.) The other picture shows Faust, astride of the wine-cask, which is flying through the door. His face is turned towards the company, and he lifts one hand as a parting salutation. The landlord, servants, and students gaze at him and at each other with gestures expressive of fear and astonishment. The six lines of German doggerel at the bottom of the pic- ture also indicate a later date, since they refer to Faust's punishment. Blackie's translation of this inscription is very good : — NOTES.- 271 " Doctor Faustus, on that tj-de, From Auerbach's cellar away did ryde, Upon a wine-cask speedilie, As many a mother's son did see. By subtle crafte he did that deede, And he received the devil's meede." Goethe thus followed the main legend in bringing Faust to Leipzig, after the compact with Mephistopheles. There are some satirical touches in the scene, however, which show that something of his own recollections was interwoven with the tradition. The other incidents taken from the legends receive a different coloring from the circumstance that Meph- istopheles is made the princijjal actor, Faust being a pas- sive, and even an unwilling, spectator. 74. A nasty song! Fie I a political song. When this line was written, it probably expressed no more than a covert contempt for the pretence,of a " holy Roman- (German) Empire," which was still kept up in the coronation at Frankfurt, and in various legal and official forms. Never- theless, the line has been frequently quoted by Goethe's literary enemies as an evidence that he would exclude all political aspiration from literature. His silence during the great national movement of 1813 and 1814 has been charged to an absolute indifference to the fortunes of his country and race, and very arbitrary inferences have been drawn in regard to his own political sentiments. In a conversation with Soret, in 1830, Goethe, after confessing his hearty ad- miration of the political songs of Beranger, thus expresses his own views : — "A political poem is to be considered, however, even in the luost fortunate case, as the voice of a single nation, and in most cases as the voice of a certain party ; but, when it succeeds, it inspires the highest enthusiasm of the nation or the party. Moreover, a political poem is also the product of a certain temporary phase of things, which, in passing away, deducts from the poem whatever value it may have derived directly from the subject." 2^2 FAUST. He further said, in answer to Soret's reference to the attacks of which he had been the object, in 1814 and after- wards : " How could I have taken up arms without hate ? and how could I have hated without youth? If those events had found me as a young man of twenty, I should certainly not have been the last, but I was already well over sixty years old, when they came National hatred is quite a peculiar thing. You will always find that it is strongest and fiercest, in the lowest stages of culture. But there is also a stage where it entirely disappears, where one stands to some extent abme the nations, and sympathizes with the weal or woe of a neighbor people as with that of one's own. This latter stage of culture suited my nature, and I had con- firmed myself in it long before reaching my sixtieth year." So little significance is given to the expression which Brander uses, that shortly afterwards, in the same scene, Mephistopheles sings a song which is nothing but the keen- est political satire. 75. Soar up, soar tip. Dame Nightingale. The couplet which Frosch sings belongs to several of the early songs of the people. The " Message of Love," written in 1639, commences : — '* Soar up, Dame Nightingale, speed high, And to my sweetheart's window fly ! " Another song, of the same period, has these lines : — " Dame Nightingale, Dame Nightingale, Many thousand times my sweetheart hail ! " The term " Dame Nightingale " was first used by the Minnesingers as early as the eleventh century, and has been perpetuated in the popular songs and ballads. The second fragment which Frosch sings, to annoy Siebel (who has been jilted and resents these strains of love), appears to be Goethe's. 76. There "was a rat in the ccliar-nest. This song, which is entirely Goethe's ov.n, was probably NOTES. 273 written in September, 1775, during the heiglit of his passion for " Lili." In a letter to the Countess Augusta von Stol- berg, written from Offenbach, he says : " The day has gone by passably, yet rather heavily : when I got up in the morn- ing, I felt well, and wrote a scene of my Faust " Then, after describing the incidents of the day, he adds : " I felt, all the time, like a rat that has eaten poison : it scampers into all holes, drinks all moisture, swallows everything eat- able that comes in its way, and its entrails burn with un- quenchable fire." In the song, it is not only Brander satirizing Siebel, but also Goethe satirizing himself, in order to escape the unrest of the strongest attachment of his life. The introduction of Luther's burly figure as a comparison seems also intended to ridicule Siebel, who is afterwards described by Altmayer as "the bald-pate pot-belly,'' and is thus drawn by Cornelius, in his illustration of the scene. The line, nevertheless, gave great offe|(ce in certain quar- ters ; and when Fattst {under Tieck's direction) was pre- pared for representation on the stage, in Dresden, the open- ing quatrain of the song was changed in this wise : — There was a rat in the cellar -nest Who lived on butter and cheeses : He had a paunch beneath his vest. Like the wisest of the Chineses ! 77. Paris in miniature, htym it refines its people. Leipzig, under the supreme rule of Gottsched, was a faint and not seldom a ridiculous reflection of Parisian taste, in art, literature, and society. Although Lessing, twenty years before Goethe, had dealt the first blow at the pedantry and affectation of the school, Gottsched was still living, and only partially shorn of his authority, when Goethe entered the University. In Wahrheit und DicJitung he gives a lively picture of the assumed refinements in dress, speech, and manners in l^eipzig, and the annoyance which he endured from being compelled to imitate them. The rough, racy directness of the Rhine-German was prohibited to him, as 12* R 2 74 FAUST. being vulgar ; he was told to use the same expressions in speech as in writing, and even his gestures and movements were subjected to a continual censorship. 78 No doubt ''twas late when you from Ripfach started? Rippach is the last post-station before reaching Leipzig, on the road from Weissenfels. The remark of Frosch is a part of the " chaff" with which the older Burschen m'ere accustomed to entertain the Foxes, or Freshmen. "Hans von Rippach " is a slang name, denoting a coarse, awkward, boorish fellow, — in fact, an equivalent for the Scotch Saw- ney, as it is used in some localities. By hinting that Faust and Mephistopheles have been supping with Hans von Rip- pach, Frosch takes a delicate way of saying that they are ignorant country clowns, in comparison with the refined Parisians of Leipzig. In Wieland's correspondence, there is a letter to Merck, wherein he complains of the manner in which the world is governed by " children, dandies, night-caps, blockheads, Don Quixotes and Hans von Rippachs." 79. There was a king once reigning. The commentators are agreed that this song is the keenest and coarsest satire upon those court-favorites who make their way to place and power, provide for all the members of their family, and attack and annoy society with perfect impunity, so long as they possess the favor of the ruling prince. It is conjectured by some that Goethe had in view a particular favorite at the Court of Weimar. Falk says that the couplet at the close, repeated as chorus, expresses the freedom of the people from the restraints of the court- circles. The former are at liberty to suppress plagues and parasites whenever they become annoying. 80. A German can't endure the French to see or hear of. Brander's assertion, in this line, must not be understood in a political sense. The national German sentiment, in lit- NOTES. 27s erature, preceded by many years the political hostility, which first became general and permanent under the oppressions of Napoleon. But at the time this scene was written, there was a strong reaction, both against Gottsched and his school, and against the subserviency to French literature and taste manifested by many of the reigning princes of Ger- many, Frederick the Great at their head. I^essing, and Klopstock in a still greater measure, had already laid the basis of a literary Deutschthum (Germanism), which Goethe and his contemporaries confirmed for all time. The change of sentiment was first accepted by the younger generation, and especially by the students, of whom Brander is tlie shrewdest and most respectable representative present in Auerbach's Cellar. 81. Now draw the stoppers, and drink your fill I Goethe took this specimen of jugglery from the legend, where, however, it is not performed by 'Mephistopheles but by Faust. It is related as having taken place in Erfurt : "Spake he (Faust), whether they would not like to try a foreign wine or two : answered they, Yes, whereupon he further asked, whether it should be Rephal, Malvasie, Spanish or French wine, and one of them laughing made answer, all those kinds were good. Then Faust demanded a gimlet, began to bore four holes, one after another, on the border of the leaf of the table, stuck in stojjpers, even as people stick spigots in the heads of casks, called for several fresh glasses, and, when all this had been done, he drew out one stopper after another, and behold ! out of each of the aforesaid holes flowed unto each one the wine he had re- quired, even as out of four casks, from the dry leaf of the table." By making Mephistopheles the active agent in these delu- sions, the scene in Auerbach's Cellar assumes a different character from that which it bears in the legend. Faust speaks but twice, once simply in greeting, and again to ex- press his wish to leave. From this point, he has nothing in common with the traditional Faust. 276 FAUST. 82. False word and form of air. Change place, and sense ensnare ! This last prank of Mephistopheles is also borrowed from the Faust-legend, although it appears to be derived from some older tradition. It is thus related in the work of Camerarius (1602) : "Once, when he (Faust) was in com- pany with some of his acquaintances, who had heard much of his magic arts, they begged him to give them a specimen of his powers. After refusing for a long while, he finally yielded to the tumultuous request of the not wholly sober company, and promised to give them whatever they desired. When they then unanimously asked for a vine full of ripe grapes, in the belief that he would not be able to furnish such a thing in that season (it being winter, namely), Faust prom- ised that he would cause a vine to grow instantly forth from the table, under the condition, that, until he should allow them to cut off the grapes, they would observe the deepest silence and not stir in their seats, otherwise they would be in peril of death. When they had accepted this condition, he so deluded the eyes and senses of the carousing company that they fancied to see a very beautiful vine, with as many wonderfully great bunches of grapes on it as there were persons present. Enticed by the marvel of the thing, and thirsty from drinking, they took hold of their knives, await- ing the moment when they should be allowed to cut off the bunches. Faust left them for a considerable time in their delusion, until finally the vine and grapes disappeared as a vapor, and they perceived that they had taken the noses of each other to be the bunches, and had set their knives thereto." The refrain, " As 't were five hundred hogs,'' etc., which the students sing, after drinking the various wines, has the character of certain coarse Bacchanalian measures, still common to their class. Perhaps the resemblance in sound between sauf (swill !) and sau (sow) originally suggested the use of the latter as a vulgar slang word. Even Goethe once speaks of himself, in a letter to Merck, as being sauwohl. NOTES. 277 83. Witched Kitchen. Neither this scene nor the Walpurgis-Night (Scene XXI.) has any connection with the Faust-legend. The chief motive of the Witches' Kitchen is, of course, the passional rejuve- nation of Faust, as introductory to the episode of Margaret ; but Goethe, with a wilful spirit, not unfrequently manifested in his life and writings, seems to have also designed bur- lesqueing the machinery of witchcraft and its use in litera- ture. He wrote the scene towards the close of March, 1788, in the gardens of the Villa Borghese, outside the wall of Rome, at a time when his mind was thoroughly possessed with the grace and beauty and irrecoverable symmetry of fincient art.- Perhaps, therefore, the very contrast between his strong aesthetic passion and the character of his theme led him to give the latter the ugliest, coarsest, and absurdest expression. The scene has been a puzzle to many com- mentators, because in the dialogues of ^^ephistopheles, the Witch, and the Animals, some occult meaning is often pro- vokhigly implied. Goethe was too admirable an artist not to have intended this very effect, and not to have accom- plished it by the simplest method, — that of giving the jargon of witchcraft to his own definite ideas ; but, that there was no necessary coherence between those ideas, no consistent allegory intended, is evident from his own words, reported by Falk : " They have now been tormenting themselves for nearly thirty years with the broomsticks of the Blocks- berg and the cat dialogues of the Witches' Kitchen, but they have never yet rightly succeeded in interpreting and alle- gorizing that dramatic-humoristic nonsense. Really, one ought to play the joke oftener in his youth, and give them such morsels as the Brocken." [Tliere is an untranslatable pun in the original — sokhe Brocken wie den Brockenl\ There has been a great deal of not very important discus- sion as to the meaning of the word Meerkntze. It has been translated " Monkey," " Baboon," " Cat-Ape," " Cat," and "Little Ring-tailed Monkey." I follow Mephistopheles, himself, in using the word " Ape," ( Wie gliicklich wiirde sich 278 FAUST. der Affe schaizen ! ) which will answer as well as any other for those who insist on symbolism. Goethe probably took his Meerkatzen from the legend of Reineke Fuchs, wherein they are introduced. 84. Full thirty years from my existence. There is here an apparent contradiction between the age of Faust and that which is implied in the first scene. The deduction of thirty years, we must suppose, should leave him as a youth of twenty, to begin his new experience of life ; yet we can hardly imagine the man who has been teaching for only ten years, and has barely attained his Doctor's de- gree, to be more than thirty-five. Diintzer thinks this is an oversight of Goethe, arising from the long interval between the composition of the two scenes. 85. We We cooking watery soup for beggars. Here we have a clew to some of the masked satire in the scene. In July, 1797, Goethe writes to Schiller concerning a volume which he sends at the same time : " Herewith goes the again murdered, or rather putrefied, Gustavus HI. ; it is really just such a beggars' soup as the German public likes." Falk died before the correspondence was published, or he would not have given the following explanation of the line : " An ironical reference to the coarse superstitions which extend with a thick palpable shade among all nations throughout the history of the world." There seems to be no doubt that in this expression and in the disjointed rhymes uttered by the he-ape, Goethe meant to designate certain classes of literary works, popular in Germany at the time. 86. Wert tliou the thief. The art of divination by means of a sieve (koskinomancy) was known to the ancients : it is mentioned in the thiid idyl of Theocritus. In the life of Campanella — the Dominican monk, with whose work, De Sensu Kerum, Goethe appears to have been acquainted — the following story occurs : " Some boys had lost a mantle, and in order to find out NOTES. 279 whither it had taken its flight, they hung up a sieve by the middle on a peg, and then uttered the words ' In the name of St. Peter and in the name of St. Paul, has not so and so stolen the mantle ? ' They went over a number of names in the same manner, but the sieve remained immovable, till they pronounced the name of Flavins, and then it began to wheel round about. Campanella, who saw it, was much astonished, and prayed with the boys that God would not suffer them to be blinded by the devil ; and, on making the trial again, as soon as the name of Flavins was pronounced, it began to wheel round about in a circle." — Adelung, Blackie's translation. 87. What do I see? What heavenly fm-m revealed. Some of the commentators insist that the form which Faust sees in the magic mirror is that of Margaret, whom he meets in the following scene ; others suppose it to be Helena, a,lthough when she appears in the SeQpnd Part (end of Act I.) he expressly declares that the vision in the mirror was but " a frothy phantom of such beauty.'' A reference to Goethe's letters from Rome is all that is needed to satisfy us that it is not an individual, but the perfect" beauty of the female form, which fascinates the eyes and brain of Faust. Indeed, his exclamation, " Is it possible, then, that woman is so beautiful ? " indicates this, without any further evidence. For nearly a year Goethe occupied himself with the study of the human form, drawing from the antique and from life, modelling in clay, and striving to develop a little technical ability in Art. At the commencement of this period of study he writes : " Now at last I am possessed by the alpha and omega of all known things, the human form, and I cry : 'Lord I will cling to thee until thou blessest me ! ' though I grow lame in the struggle." Eight or nine months later, just before his departure from Rome, he says : " In such a presence [that of the antique sculptures] one becomes more than one's ordinary self; one feels, that the noblest subject with which we can be occupied, is the human form." In other letters he speaks of the disinclination with which he returns to "formless Germany." 28o FAUST. The image in the mirror is not a sensual but a purely aesthetic symbol, the significance of which is not further develoiDed in the First Part of the work. The coarser ele- ment through which Mephistopheles achieves a temporary power over Faust is represented by the potion which the witch administers to the latter. 88. We hear and we rhyme. These lines, with the preceding and following ones, have (perhaps purposely) a mixed significance. The crown which the animals bring may be that of France, which, though glued or belimed with the sweat and blood of the people, was virtually broken at the time the passage was written ; yet the line quoted above certainly refers again to the dreary jingle of an inferior class of poets, who now and then, by sheer good luck, get possession of a thought. The remark of Mephistopheles, just before the appearance of the witch, must be understood in the same sense. The reader must not expect more than a half-interpretation of these passages, and that only by giving up the idea of a coherent design. 89. It 's long been written in the Book of Fable. The conversation between Mephistopheles and the witch is full of ironical suggestions. It ridicules the pbpular idea of the Devil, with his horns, hoofs, and the attendant ravens (borrowed from Odin) ; it slyly refers to the denial of a personal Spirit of Evil, promulgated by Kant in his philoso- phy and Schleiermacher in his theology ; it asserts that, although men may be rid of the Evil One, there is not there- fore any the less evil in the world ; and, by implication, satir- izes the aristocracy through the claim of Mephistopheles to the title of Baron. 90. This is the witch's once-one' s-one ! The common schoolboy term for the multiplication-table in Germany is Einmaleins, from its commencement, Einmal eins ist eins — once one is one ! The jargon which the witch NOTES. 281 declaims from the book is nothing but a nonsensical jDarody of the cabalistic formula of the Middle Ages, wherein mysti- cal properties are attributed to numbers. In the Paralipomcna^ there is a verse which is generally attributed to the omitted Disputation, yet which seems more appropriate in this place. Mephistopheles says (apparently to Faust) : — Now, once for all, mark this, I pray — A maxim weighty for thine actions ! No mystery the numbers here convey. Yet there 's a great one in the fractions. 91. A contradiction thus complete. The irreverent irony of Mephistopheles in this passage hardly needs explanation. Some of the commentators have shown great skill in avoiding the true interpretation. Hin- richs, for example, asserts that it refers to Hegel's system of philosophy ! Diintzer says : " One should properly attribute this irony to Mephistopheles alone, and entirely absolve the poet from' it." Goethe, nevertheles.';, used the mask of Mephistopheles whenever it suiled his convenience. In 1824, when speaking to Eckermann of his early life, he said : " I believed in God, in Nature, and in the final triumph of Good over Evil ; but that was not enough for the pious souls. I was also required to believe that Three were One, and One was Three, against which the instinct of truth in my soul revolted : moreover, I could not perceive how I should be helped thereby, in the slightest degree." Although the witch bewilders Faust when she speaks again, she nevertheless expresses an article of Goethe's poetic creed — that the truest and deepest insight into things is not the result of conscious labor, but falls upon the mind as a free, pure, unsuspected gift. His distaste for metaphysics . i^ arose from the fact that it forced him to think about his W thinking; whereas his object always was to preserve the freedom, freshness, and spontaneous activity of his mind. The lines declaimed by the witch suggest another of his aphoristic fragments : — 282 FAUST. Ves, that is the proper way, When one can't say What one thinks, If one thinks ; But everything comes as if freely given ! 92. The noble indolence I 'II teach thee then to treasure. Mephistopheles understands very well that an indolent, unregulated habit of life contributes to the growth of all forms of physical appetite. He shows, throughout, such familiarity with theological matters, that we may not un- reasonably suspect him of having taken a hint from Dr. Watts : — *' For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do." Perhaps Mephistopheles also recalled these lines, from Milton's Paradise Regained : — " For Solomon, he lived at ease, and full Of honor, wealth, high fare, aim'd not beyond Higher design than to enjoy his state : Thence to the bait of women lay exposed." 93. Margaret. We now take leave of the original Faust-legend, which will not again be encountered until the appearance of Helena, in the Second Part. The episode of Margaret is Goethe's own creation, from beginning to end, and here, even more than in the first monologue of Faust, he " delved in his own breast" for the passion which he represents. Margaret is drawn partly from her namesake, whom Goethe, as a boy of sixteen, imagined he loved ; and partly from his betrothed, Lili (Anna Elizabeth Schbnemann, the daughter of a banker in Frankfurt), for whom he felt probably the strongest love of his life, at the time these scenes of his Faust viere written. Gretchen (Maggie), or Margaret, is one of the fairest and sweetest figures in the fifth book of Wahrheit nnd Dichtung. Goethe describes how his facility in writing poems for occa- sions brought him accidentally into society very much below that into which he was born. Some of these chance com- NOTES. 283 panions were even disreputable, and his association with them was finally broken oiif by the legal investigations con- cerning a forgery which one of them committed. At a house where they met, Margaret first appeared to wait upon them in the place of a maid-servant. She was three or four years older than Goethe, who was then in his sixteenth year, and her quiet grace, beauty, and natural dignity made an instant and deep impression upon him. " She was for the most part," he says, " calm and quiet. Her habit was to sit with her arms crossed, leaning upon the table, a position which showed her to great advantage ; and she would thus sit for a long time together, with now and then a slight motion of her head, which, however, was never made without meaning. At times she threw in a word to help on the conversation, but when she had done this, she immediately resumed her calm and quiet attitude of attention." The account he gives of her manner suggests Faust's first interview with Margaret : "She gave no' one her hand, not even me ; she allowed no one to touch her ; only, she often sat down beside me, especially when I wrote or read aloud, and then she placed her arm familiarly on my shoulder, looked into the book, or on my verses, but when I attempted to take the same freedom with her she immediately drew back, and did not return so soon again. Yet she often re- peated this position, and, indeed, there was a great uniform- ity in all her gestures and motions, though they were always graceful and beautiful." The last time Goethe saw her, just before the arrest of the forger, she kissed him on the forehead at parting ; but both his love and self-love were bitterly wounded when, in the in- vestigation which took place — and from which she came forth with a spotless character — she testified that she had looked upon him as a boy in whom she felt the interest of an elder sister, and had encouraged his innocent liking for her for the purpose of watching over and protecting him. She left Frankfurt soon afterwards, and Goethe never heard of her again. The engagement between Goethe and Lili, to whom he 284 FAUST. wrote some of his finest brief lyrics, was brolceii off by the opposition of their respective families. The uncertainty and unrest of his love is reflected in that of Faust. All the scenes in which Margaret appears, up to that in the Cathe- dral (Scene XX.), with the exception of Faust's encounter with Valentine (Scene XIX.), were written during the spring of 1775, and Goethe's relation to Lili was not finally broken off until August of that year. Margaret is one of the most pure and pathetic creations in literature. Ignorant, uneducated (she uses none but the simplest words and sometimes speaks ungrammatically), art- lessly vain, yielding to deceit, and finally led to infamy, crime, and madness, she is both real in her words and ways and ideal in her embodiment of the pure woman-nature, and of that alone. The German critics have made her typical of many things, but she will always remain what Goethe intended her to be — simply a woman. In her language, throughout, there are no references e.xcept to Goethe's own early experiences of love : the reader may study her charac- ter for himself, although an indescribable bloom and fresh- ness is lost in transferring her story to another language. 94. How short and sharp of speech was she. Perhaps the word " snappish " would best express the meaning of the German phrase kurz angebunden. Lord Leve- son Gower, deceived by the form of the idiom, fell into a very amusing blunder. He translates the couplet : — " As with her gown held up, she fled. That well-turned ankle well might turn one's head ! " We are less surprised that a French translator should have made the same mistake, and given the first line thus : " Comme elle avail des courtes jupes ! " Even Blaze, whose translation in many other respects is so careful and intelli- gent, says : " Quel corsage bienpris ! " 95. Most Worthy Pedagogue, take heed! The original, Mein Herr Magister Lobesan, is given in a different form by almost every translator. Goethe perhaps NOTES. 285 borrowed the expression from the title of a satirical poem by Neumeister, published in 1624 — "The Crowned M., in German, Magister Lobesan." Diintzer says it is a nick- name applied to a Magister who makes a pompous display of his dignity. Inasmuch as Faust ironically assumes that Mephistopheles attempts to teach him morals, I have chosen the word " Pedagogue '' as an equivalent. The following are some of the varieties of translation, and they may help the reader to a clearer comprehension of the phrase : — Blackie. — Sir Knight of Pedantry. Hayward. — My good Mr. Sermonizer. Brqoks. — My worthy Master Gravity. Martin. — Master Graveairs. Leveson Gower. — Mr. Check-my-speed. Anster. — Most Reverend. Beresford. — Sir Laudable. 96. As in Italian tales V is taught. The word welsche (or wdlsche] may signify either French or Italian : in the Middle Ages it was often used in the sense of " foreign." Hartung "supposes that by welsche Geschichf Goethe simply meant romances, of whatever coun- try ; but it seems more probable that he had in mir.d the amorous stories of Boccaccio, or the Heptameron. 97. O welcome, twilight soft and sweet I The reader will not fail to notice the entire change in Faust, since the preceding scene, although only a few hours are supposed to have elapsed. The " atmosphere " upon which Mephistopheles has calculated in advance, exercises an influence of which he seems to be ignorant, while Faust, after his first surrender to the new impression, hardly rec- ognizes himself At the meeting with Margaret, it is the witch's potion which speaks through him : here, the better though obscure aspiration (vide the " Prologue in Heaven " ) repossesses him, under the new, blis.5ful, yet disquieting form of love. Mephistopheles is, naturally, iiicapable of un- derstanding the transformation in Faust's igelings,~6ecause the strongest negation of his denying nature is that of love^ 286 FAUST. Goethe was not only keenly sensitive to the operation of atmospheric influences upon the mind, but he also believed in the existence of a spiritual aura, through which impres- sions, independent of the external senses, might be commu- nicated. It is the atmosphere of peace, and order, and ' contentment, and chastity, which unconsciously touches Faust, in Margaret's chamber; and it is the sultry breath of evil, of impending temptation and ruin, which oppresses Margaret on her return. 98. I know not, should I do it? Faust is so far redeemed by his awakening love that he hesitates to use the gift which he had commanded Mephis- topheles to furnish. The latter purposely misunderstands his hesitation, and accuses him of wishing to keep the casket of jewels for himself. Nevertheless, it is he, and not Faust, who places the casket in the press. 99. There was a King in Thule. According to Goethe's statement this ballad was written in July, 1774, when he repeated it to his friend Jacobi. It does not appear to have been originally intended for Faust, as were the songs in Auerbach's Cellar ; yet it is most fitting that Margaret, in this crisis of her fate, should sing a ballad of love and death, wherein the word Buhle (mistress or lenian) has -^ prophetic character. The " King of Thule " was first published in 1782 in a collection of "Songs of the People,'' set to -music by Baron von SeckendorfF, with the announcement added : " From Goethe's Dr Faust," This was eight years before the publication of this scene, in the " Fragment.'' It would seem impossible for any one to read the ballad and not be satisfied with the story it so simply tells ; yet one of Goethe's commentators, Hartung, insists on the following interpretation : " It is based, like the ballad of ' The Fisher,' on a deeper meaning. For, while the dying King grants all else to his heirs, the elements, he gives only to the great ocean that which is most precious to him — his Self, his NOTES. ■ 287 soul, which he desires shall be united to the world-soul, no matter whether it shall melt as a drop into the element of soul-ether, or, hardened into a pearl, continue its individual existence." As I have stated in the Preface, the feminine rhymes of the first and third lines of each verse have been omitted, in order to make the translation strictly literal. I have taken this liberty (the only one I have allowed myself, in the lyri- cal passages of the work) the more readily, because the redundant syllable partly atones to the ear for the absence of rhyme. In this instance I have considered it especially necessary to preserve the simplicity of the original, and {if that be possible) the weird, mystic sweetness of its move- ment. To show how entirely these qualities may be lost, in a language further removed from German than ours, I quote Blaze's translation of the last two verses : — " Puis, se levant, le vieux compare Huma Ic dernier coup vital, Et jeta le sacr^ m^tal • Dans les vagues de I'onde am&re. "II le vit tomber, s'englontir ; £t quand il n'eut plus aucun doute, Sentit ses yeux s'appesantir, Puis jamais ne but une goutte." 100. With heavenly manna she V/ repay if. Margaret's mother seems to have quoted from Revelation ii. 17 ; "To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna," and the parson, in the line "Who over- cometh, winneth too," remembers verses 7, 11, and 26 in the same chapter. loi. The Neighbor's House. This scene surely requires no further explanation than that contained in the two succeeding notes. The characters of Martha, Margaret, and Mephistopheles are placed before us, in the clearest manner, by a few simple, realistic touches. I need not repeat the conjectures of critics concerning Dame 288 FAUST. Martha's age and personal appearance. Here, and in Scene XII., she is represented with such distinctness that the reader cannot mistake the part which Goethe intended her to fill. If anything further were necessary, Mephistopheles charac- terizes her sufSciently, in the following scene. 102. Ill Padua buried, he is lying. Beside the good Saint Antony. If this is anything more than a random statement of Meph- istopheles, the irony is neither keen nor especially impor- tant. The Saint is not the Antony of the Desert and the temptations and the Irish ballad, but Antonio of Padua, a relative of Godfrey of Bouillon. He was born in Lisbon in 1 195, preached with such fervor that even the fishes rose to the surface of the sea to listeg to him, and died in Padua in 123 1. The splendid basilica in which his ashes rest was not completed until two centuries later. His chapel, with its alii rilievi by Lombardi, Sansovino, and others, still attracts the student of art. Interments within the walls of cathedrals and churches in Italy were not prohibited until the year 1809. 103. I want his death in the weekly paper stated. There is, in Germany, an official registration of all mar- r-iages, births, and deaths, which are published at stated intervals. The laws relating to marriage require both par- ties to furnish testimony that there are no legal impediments to their union ; hence the officially published death of Herr Schwerdtlein is necessary, before Dame Martha can prop- erly be considered a widow and at liberty to accept a second spouse. 104. For thou art right, especially since I must. Faust, in this line, admits his dependence on the aid of Mephistopheles, and the necessity of giving false testimony in order to procure an interview with Margaret. No change in the character of his passion is implied. There is a passage in the Paralipomena which seems natu- f^'OTES. 289 rally to belong here, although some of the German commen- tators have given it a different place. Mephistopheles says, apparently after Faust's departure, when he has impatiently spoken the above line : — 'T is hard, indeed, the younker's ways commanding ; Yet, as his tutor, T 've, no fear I shall not rule the madcap, notwithstanding, And nothing else concerns me here. His own desires T let him follow slowly. That mine, as well, may be accomplished wholly. Much do I talk, yet always leave him free ; If what he does should quite too stupid be. My wisdom, then, must make a revelation, And I must drag him forth, as by the hair : Yet, while one strives the folly to repair. One gives for other folly fresh occasion. 105. All times I 'II have to think on you^ all places! These two lines are literally : " Think but a little mo- ment's space on me ; I shall have time enough to think of you." I have been obliged, by the exigency of rhyme, to express the latter phrase in different words ; yet this is one of those instances where no English words, though they may perfectly convey the meaning, can possibly carry with them the fulness and tenderness of sentiment which we feel in the original. ^^ Ich werde Zeit genug an euch zu denken haben'^ suggests, in some mysterious way, a contrast between Faust's place in life and Margaret's, between the love of man and that of woman, which the words do not seem to retain, when translated. 106. She plucks a star-flower. The original, sternblume, may mean either a china-aster, a star-of-Bethlehem, a variety of primrose or of jonquil. Va- rious modes of amorous divination by means of flowers were known to the ancients (one of them is mentioned by Theoc- ritus), and the Minnesinger, Walther vnn der Vogelweide, describes a very similar method of ascertaining whether a lover's affection is returned. The single daisy ( Gansebliim- VOL. I. 13 s ago FAUST. chen in German) is sometimes used for the same purpose, but it is a garden-flower, of course, which Margaret pkicks. 107. It's as if nobody had nothing to fetch and carry. The efiect of a double negative in German is precisely ths same as in English, and it belongs equally to the vulgar dia- lect. Goethe introduces it intentionally here as well as in Scene XVI., where Margaret says, speaking of Mephistoph. eles : " One sees that in nothing no interest he hath." 1 have not felt at liberty to correct these purposed inelegances, as most translators have done. They are trifling touches, it is true, but they belong to the author's design. 108. Forest and Cavern. Most of the German critics unite in the opinion that this scene must have been written during Goethe's residence in Rome, or immediately after his return to Weimar. There is a certain slight variation in tone which distinguishes it from the earlier scenes. Mr. Lewes, in his "Life of Goethe," says : " I do not understand the relation of this scene to the whole." But, in his sketch of the growth of Faust, Mr. Lewes does not seem to be aware of the publication of the "Fragment" in 1790. The " Forest and Cavern " is there given, not in its present position, but immediately after the scene "At the Fountain" (Scene XVII.), and consequently after Margaret's fall. Goethe's first design was, evidently, to drive Faust from Margaret's presence through the re- morse following the deed, and his transfer of the scene to its present place substitutes a moral resistance in advance of the deed for the earlier motive. The character of Faust's love is not only elevated by this change, but the element of good in his nature is again actively, and not merely reac- tively, developed. Some commentators have found a contradiction between Faust's almost inspired enjoyment of Nature in this scene, and the character of his first monologue. Yet, if we read the latter carefully, we shall find it pervaded with a longing for "the broad, free land^" for release from the imprison- NOTES. 291 ment of unsatisfying studies. His impatience is not with Nature, but with the inadequacy of the physical sciences, which endeavor to wrench from her "with levers, screws, and hammers," the secrets "which she doth not willingly display." Faust looks on Nature, now, with the eyes of a lover, and she is transformed to his senses. It is no longer a cold, amazed acquaintance ; her bosom is open to him as that of a friend, and all living creatures become his brothers. The scoff of Mephistophelcs does not move him, but he at last succumbs to the picture which the latter draws of Mar- garet's loneliness and sorrow. In Wahrheit ttnd Dichtitng^it find the original suggestion of the scene. After Goethe's separation from the Margaret of his boyhood, and the illness which followed, the paternal government was more rigidly enforced. He was furnished with a private tutor, a man of intelligence and of a kindly, sympathetic nature, who soon became a friend. Goethe, nevertheless, remained depressed and boyishly misanthropic for a time. " I drew my friend with me into the woods," he says. " Leaving the monotonous fir-trees behind me, I sought those beautiful, leafy groves, which are, indeed, of no very great extent in that region, but are nevertheless of a size sufficient to furnish concealment for a poor wounded heart. I selected, in the deepest part of the wood, a sombre spot where the ancient oaks and beeches grandly overshad- owed a broad space of soil. The ground sloped upwards, which added to the effect of the massive old trunks. This clear space was surrounded with dense thickets, out of which rose the venerable forms of moss-grown rocks, and an abun- dant brook poured over them in a rapid cascade. . . . '■ What I then felt, is still present to my mind ; what I said, it would be impossible for me to recall." Hartung, in his comment on this scene, says : " He (Faust) also thanks God that He has given to him the com- rade whom he can no longer do without," etc. The reader can judge for himself whether Faust does not simply toler- ate the presence of Mephistophelcs, through his conviction that " nothing can be perfect unto man," and the new ec- 29^ P^-U&T. stasy he feels must therefore be bSlahCed By'the degra'diTlfe fellowship. log. One dares net that before chaste-ears declare. " Qui reprehenduht et irriderit quod ea quse re turpia noil sint, nominibus ac verbis flagitiosa ducamiis, ilia autem quae turpia sint nominibus appellemus suis : latrbcinare,fraudare, adulterare re turpe est, sed dicitiir non obsccene ; liberis dare operam, re honestum est, nomine obscceniim." — Cicero, Off. I., 35- no. Enough of that 1 Thy l&ve sits lonely' yonder. Mephistopheles is shrewd enough to perceive that Faust is thus far insensible to his mockery. He here suddenly changes his tactics, and draws such a picture of the forsaken Margaret that Faust, even in the exclamation " Serpent ! serpent ! " betrays how much he is moved. In this excla- mation, and the aside of Mephistopheles, I have omitted the rhyme of the original, which could not possibly Ise repro- duced without losing the subtile suggestiveness of the words. Mr. Brooks nearly overcomes the difficulty by translating as follows : — Faust. Viper I Viper 1 Mephistopheles f^aside). Ay, ^nd the- prey grows riper I III. " Were I a little bird !" so runs her song. This is an old song of the people in Germany. Herder published it in \ii^Volkstieder,\\\ 1779; but it was no doubt already familiar to Goethe in his childhood. The original melody, to which 'it is still surig, is as simple and sweet as the words. I cannot do better thian to borrow Mr. Brooks's translation, which is very literal : — "Were la liltle bird, Had I two wings of mine, I *d fly to iriy dear ; But that can never be, Sol stay here. 293 NOTES. " Thflu^h,! api far frotp thee, Sleepi(ig I,'(n near to thee, Talk with my dear ; When I awake again, Lam alone. " Scarce there 's an hour in the night When sleep does not take its flight. And I thinlc of.thee, How many t1^ousa)id, times Thou gav'st thy heart to me." The expression '(wept beyond her, tears" is ausgeweint (outwept) in the original. Goethe probably remembered tiie line of Dant& (In/erna, Canto XXXIII.) : — Lo pianto stesso li pianger non lascia. " Weeping itself there does not let them weep, And grief that finds a barrier in the eyes Turns itself inward to increase the anguish." Longfellow^ s iranslation. 112. On your twin-pair^ that feed among the roses. The Song of Solomon is one of those books of the Old Testament which Faust, in his contract with Mephistoph- ejes, according to one forin of the old legend, ^vas permitted to read. We should not be surprised, therefore, to find the latter quoting from it, although not quite correctly. " Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies." — iv. 5. Mr. Hayward. quotes froiii a private letter to hiiiaself the following singular ^flvipe vy-hiqh Scl|legel gives in regard to this couplet : — "Je ne vous conpeille pas.de tjraduire cela Htteralement. On jeterait les hauts cris." 113. Margaret [ut the sfinning-wJteel, alone). This and the foregoing scene may be considered as nearly identical in time. Thq lovqrs are separated : Faust strug- gles with all the force of his nobler instinct to resist his passion, while Margaret is, wholly possessed by an intense, unreasoning yearning for his presence. In representing her 294 FAUST. as seated at the spinning-wheel, Goethe again remembers the Margaret of his boyhood. Visiting the house on one occasion, to meet, by appointment, the circle into which he had been drawn, he says: " Only one of the young people was at home. Margaret sat at the window and span ; the mother went back and forth She (Margaret) arose, left her spinning-wheel, and approaching the table where I sat gave me a severe lecture, yet with much good sense and kindness." Although some have fancied that in the opening line, Meine Ruh'' ist hin, the lulling sound of the spinning-wheel is indicated, the verses are meant to be a revery, not a song. They are, indeed, articulate sighs ; the lines are almost as short and simple as the first speech of a child, and the least deviation from either the meaning or the melody of the original (even the change of meine into my, in the first line) takes away something of its indescribable sadness and strength of desire. In the first verse, which is twice re- peated as a refrain, I have been obliged to choose between ■ the repetition of the word peace in the third line and the use of a pronoun which cannot, as in the German, fix its antece- dent by its gender. The reader who prefers the grammatical form to the more natural expression will at least understand that it is here impossible to give both. There are prece- dents for either alternative, in former translations. 114. He&r me not falsely, sweetest countenance ! When Faust says, ''And as for Church and Faith, I leave to each his own," it is Goethe who speaks. His maxim through life was not only tolerance but a respectful recogni- tion of all forms of religious belief. Margaret here repre- sents a class not peculiar to Germany. She insists on a categorical explanation of Faust's views, and when, in an- swer to her question ; " Believest thou in God ? " he hints at the impossibility of comprehending the Divine Essence, she misses the familiar phrases of her creed, and immediately infers ; " Then thou believest not ! " The passage which follows has been the subject of a great NOTES. 295 deal of comment, from Madame de Stael (in her De rAlle- magne) to the latest writer on Faust. There is, however, sufficient evidence that Goethe meant to state his own — imperfect, as he admitted it to be — conception of the Deity. He read Spinoza at. an early age, and frequently expressed his concurrence in the views of that philosopher, concern- ing the " immanence " of God in all things. The sun, the stars, the earth, the human heart and all its emotions, are simply " invisible, visible " manifestations of His existence. Goethe's intention is to acknowledge Him in His Infinite aspects, not to define or describe Him. In 1829, he said to Eckermann : " The period of doubt is past : every one, now, would as soon think of doubting his own existence as that of God. Moreover, the nature of God, immortality, the being of the soul and its connection with the body are eternal problems, wherein the philosophers are unable to give us any further knowledge.'' Two years later, Eckermann gives th^ following report of Goethe's views. The latter was then eighty-two years old. " He is very far from supposing that he truly apprehends the Highest Being. All his oral and written utterances have inculcated the belief that God is an inscrutable Existence, ' whereof man has but approximate glimpses and presenti- ments. All Nature and we human beings are, nevertheless, so penetrated with the Divine element, that it sustains us, that in it we live, work and be ; that we sorrow and rejoice through the operation of eternal laws, which we fulfil and which are fulfilled in us, whether we perceive them or not. He is firmly convinced that the Divine Power is everywhere manifested, and that the Divine Love is everywhere active." In 1823 Goethe said to Soret: "With the people, and especially with the clergymen, who have Him daily upon their tongues, God becomes a phrase, a mere name, which they utter without any accompanying idea. But if they were penetrated with His greatness, they would rather be dumb, and for very reverence would not dare to name Him." This passage in Faust has sometimes been designated " Goethe's creed," — an expression which he would have 296 FAUST. repelled, since he considered all creeds as attempts to express something beyond the reach of human intelligence.' In 1813 he wrote to his friend Jacobi : " For my part, with the mani- fold directions in which my nature moves, I cannot be satis- fied with a single mode of thought. As Poet' and Artist I am a polytheist ; on the other band, as a student of Nature I am, a pantheist, — and both with equal positiveness. When I need a God for my personal nature, as a moral and spiriti- ual man, He also exists for me. The heavenly and the earthly things are such an immense realm, that it can only be grasped by the collective intelligence of all, beings." Whether Faust's explanation is pantheism, in either a spiritual or a materialistic form ; whether it is an «»doctrinal view permitted to .1 Christian, or, as Margaret fears, there is " no Christianity " in it, — are questions which the reader will decide for himself. The terms Pantheism, Materialism, and even Christianity, are so liable to random and partisan use, that I prefer to leave without comment a passage, of which Mr. Lewes says : " Grander, deeper, holier thoughts are not to be found in poetry." 115. At the Fountain. This is another of the scenes written in 1775. Its direct and occasionally coarse realism has been condemned by some critics, and one or two of the expressions have generally been softened in translation. The vulgarity of Ijsbeth, nevertheless, has a purpose. Margaret is made to feel her own situation, and the disgrace awaiting her, through the expressions applied to the unfortunate Barbara, and the reader's sympathy is secured, with his first knowledge of her fall. I have therefore translated the scene without change, on the same principle which the Germans have adopted in translating Shakespeare. 116. And we 'II scatter chaff before her door. The word /Mf&j-Zwff signifies either chaff or chopped straw. The old German custom, which is still observed in- some parts of the country, allowed the bridal wreath only to chaste NOTES. 297 maidens. If one of sullied reputation ventured to assume it, the wreath was torn from her head, and sometimes replaced with one of straw, while on the eve of the marriage chaff or chopped straw was scattered before her door. A widow who marries again is allowed to wear a wreath, but not the myrtle of the maiden bride. Church-penance for unchastity was also formerly common in England. In Germany the guilty person was obliged to kneel before the altar, clad in a "sinner's shift," while the clergyman severely rated her conduct, and read her petition for pardon. 117. Donjon. The word Zwinger, which Goethe uses, corresponds to our " stronghold " or " donjon keep," but is also sometimes applied to the open angular space between the wall of a itown and one of the fortified gates. Goethe seems to use the word in the latter sense. The shrine of a saint was frequently placed in ,tbe re-entering angle, between which and the city- wall there would be a partly enclosed space. Mephistopheles represents Margaret as watching the clouds "over the old city-wall," from her window, whence her home must have been in the street nearest to it, and the shrine of the Mater Dolorosa, being close at hand, would be- come her accustomed place of prayer. I have followed all other translators in using the word donjon, simply because we have no English word to describe the locality. The opening of Margaret's prayer suggests the well-known Latin hymn of Jacoponus, written towards the close of the thirteenth century : — Stabat mater dolorosa Jiixta cnicem lacrimosa, Dum pendebat filius ; Cujns animam gementem, Contristatum et dolentem, Pertransivit gladiu^. If the revery at the spinning-wheel be a sigh of longing, this .is a cry for help, equally wonderful in -word? and metre ; 13* 298 FAUSl'. yet with a character equally elusive when we attempt to reproduce it in another language. 118. Valentine, a soldier, Margaret's brother. This scene appears to have been written some time during the year 1800, and probably after the completion of the Wal- purgis-Night (Scene XXL). Goethe had been occupied, at intervals, for some time previous, with the Helena (Part Sec- ond, Act III.), which he finally laid aside, with the determi- nation to fill the gaps yet remaining in the First Part, before proceeding further. In the Royal Library at Berlin, there is an autograph manuscript of the scene, dated " 1800." Diintzer insists that the unity of the plot is disturbed by the introduction of Valentine, whose death, he asserts, has no intimate connection with Margaret's fall. Goethe's de- sign, nevertheless, may be easily conjectured, and the poets, we imagine, will take sides with him against the critic. The guilt of blood, which the action of Mephistopheles brings upon Faust, obliges the latter to fly from the town, and he is thus prevented from learning the shame and misery which swiftly come upon Margaret. Without such a motive, his flight would be a heartless desertion, at variance with the expressions of his love in the preceding and following scenes. Moreover, while the consequences of Margaret's fault suc- ceed each other with terrible, cumulative retribution, her right to pity and sympathy increases with them. We could ill spare this picture of Valentine, the brave soldier, the hon- est man, whose death is another necessary link in the fatal chain of Margaret's destiny. 119. Saw splendid lion-dollars in '/. The remark of Faust refers, apparently, to some buried treasure which Mephistopheles has promised to raise for him. "Lion-dollars" are of Dutch coinage, and so called both from the city of Louvain (in German, Lbwen — lion), in Brabant, where they were first struck, and from the figure of a lion on the obverse. They are also sometimes named " Brabanters." A few specimens are still occasionally seen NOTES. 299 in Germany : their value is about eighty-five cents. Hay- ward is mistaken in saying that the lion-dollar is a Bohe- mian coin. •' It was a generally disseminated belief that the interior of the earth contains treasures, which must be raised by whoever would possess them. It was supposed that the treasure moved of itself, slowly seeking to approach the sur- face. At stated times, frequently once in seven years, but sometimes only once in a hundred, the treasure is above, and waits to be lifted. If this is not accomplished, because the necessary conditions are not fulfilled, it sinks back again. It is generally contained in a kettle, and its approach to the surface is indicated by a flame hovering over the spot." — Diintzer. 120. What dost thou here ? The song of Mephistopheles is directly suggested, as Goethe admitted (vide Note 8), by the song of Ophelia, in Hamlet (Act IV., Scene V.) : — * " Good morrow, 't is Saint Valentine*s day, Alt in the morning betime, And 1 a maid at your window. To be your Valentine. " Then up he rose, and don'd his clothes, And dupped the chamber door ; Let in the maid, that out a maid Never departed more." In Schlegel's translation, St. Charity (in the third verse) is rendered St. Kathrin, whence Goethe probably took the name "Kathrina dear." It also seems probable that the name given to Margaret's brother, Valentine, was suggested by " your Valentine " in Ophelia's song ; and all the more so, since its Latin original, valens, is specially appropriate to a soldier. 121. Rat-catching pifer, thou! Browning's poem of "The Pied Piper of Hamelln" is so well known that I need not give the old German legend to which Valentine's exclamation refers. Goethe's song, Der 300 FAUST. Rattenfdnger, expresses still more clearly the meaning wliich he attaches to the phrase. The man who charms innocent maidens by his seductive arts, even as the piper by the notes of his magical pipe charmed the rats of Hamelin, is ■< rat- catcher. In "Romeo and Juliet" (Act III. Scene I) Mer- cutio says : — "Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?" 122. Out with your sfit, without delay ! Flederwisch, the slang German word for "sword," which Mephistopheles uses, means a goose's wing, such as is used by economical housewives for dusting furniture. Hayward translates "toasting-iron," borrowing the expression from Shakespeare ; Mr. Brooks says " whisk," and Mr. Martin "duster," — both of which are literal ; yet, in this instance, I prefer to use a cant word which is equivalent to the original. 123. Cathedral. This is the closing scene of " Faust : a Fragment," and the last but one in which Margaret appears. She returns to the Cathedral, before which Faust first met her in the street, as she was coming from confession, where, as even Mephis- topheles admits : — " So innocent is she, indeed, That to confess she had no need." Without this contrast, the terrible power of the scene must be felt by every reader. The short, unrhymed lines express both the hoarse whispered threats of the Evil Spirit, and the panting agony of the sinner. The line : " Upor thy threshold whose the blood ? " fails in the edition of 1790. and was added on account of the foregoing scene, which was afterwards written. The confusion of Margaret's thoughts, presaging her later insanity, is indicated in the first words she utters. 124. Dies im, dies ilia. Goethe has elsewhere acknowledged the powerful impres- sion which this old Latin chant made upon himself. Some NOTES. 701 have attributed its authorship to Gregory the Great, and others to Bernhard of Clairvaux ; but the scholars seem now to be generally agreed that it is not of Iziter origin than the thirteenth century, and that Thomas of Celano was proba- bly its author. It was accepted by the Roman Church, ^as one of the sequentia of the requiem, before the year 13S5. The original text is engraved upon a marble tablet in the church of St. Francesco in Mantua. The present form of the chant is supposed to have been given by Felix Hammerlin (in the early part of the fifteenth century), who omitted the former opening stanzas, and added some others at the close. In this form it has appeared in the Catholic missals, since the Council of Trent. The chant has been translated up- wards of seventy times into German, and fifteen times into English. One of the closest versions, of the .few in which the feminine rhymes are retained, is that of Gen. John A. Oix, who thus renders the first stanza : — *' Day of wrath, without a morrow ! Earth shall end in flame and sorrow, As from saint and seer we borrow." 125. Judex ergo cum sedehit. We must suppose that the singing of the chant cpntinues, end that there is a pause after the close of the first verse, be- fore the Evil Spirit again speaks. His second address cer- tainly points to the third verse, of which it is a paraphrase : — Tuia mirum spargens sonum Per sejnilchra regionuni Coget omnes ante thronum. Goethe passes over this and the two following verses until the sixth, which is now quoted. Margaret is overpowered by the declaration contained in it that all things hidden shall be brought to light, and no guilt shall remain unpunished. 126. Quid sum miser tunc didurus ? This, the seventh verse, is most appropriately chosen for the climax of the effect produced on Margaret by the grand and terrible chant. If the just shall be saved with clifficulty. 302 FAUST. what plea shall be uttered by this, miserable sinner? In the original, also, the threat of wrath and retribution culminates here, the remaining ten verses having the character of peni- tence and supplication. Diintzer censures Goethe for re- peating the line: " Quid sum miser tunc dicturus ?" iox the reason that it is not repeated in the Catholic service, and in- sists that he ought to have given the first line of the follow- ing verse — " Jiex tremcnda majestatis,'' instead of it. But the poet, who prefers dramatic truth to the correctness of a minute detail which is of no importance, justifies himself. 127. Neighbor ! your cordial ! The original word, Fldschchen, means simply a phial ; but it is evidently the neighbor's pocket-flagon of smelling--salts for which Margaret asks. In most of the English versions we find "smelling-bottle," but Mr. W. Taylor, of Norwich, in his " Historic Survey of German Poetry " (London, 1830), says " Your dram-bottle ! " 128. Walpurgis-Night. This scene was written in 1800, probably twenty-five years after its first conception. It is announced in the Witches' Kitchen (Scene VI.), in the words of Mephistopheles : "Thy wish be on Walpurgis-Night expressed " Goethe was ac- customed to carry his poetical designs about with him for a long time, from a sense of possession and private enjoyment which he lost after they had been written. Perhaps, also, his feeling for the repose and symmetry of classic art, which was awakened during his Italian journey, and which mani- fests itself in Iphigenia in Tauris, Tasso, and even in Her- mann and Dorothea, rendered it more difficult for him to resume a theme so purely Gothic, ile once said to Ecker- mann : "1 employed myself but once with the devil and witch material ; I was then glad to have consumed my Northern inheritance, and turned again to the banquets of the Greeks." The original manuscript of the Walpurgis- Night is in the Royal Library of Berlin : it is dated Novem- ber 5, 1800. N07'£S. 303 The title and character of the Witches' Sabbath on the summit of the BroclipH, sweet beer, peculiar «P Brunswick. VOL, I, 14 314 FAUST. Goethe was provoked into using the only weapon which he considered fitting — ridicule, and he was assisted by Nicolai's own indiscretion. The latter, whose literary materialism was his prominent quality, — who fought the spiritual element as Luther fought the Devil, — was visited, in 1791, with an avenging malady. He was troubled by apparitions of per- sons living and dead, who filled his room, and for several weeks continued to haunt and torment him although he knew them to be phantasms. He was finally relieved by the application of leeches about the end of the spine, whence Goethe's term Proktophantasmist, which may be delicately translated as " Rump-visionary." Nicolai published a very minute account of his affliction and the manner of cure, and thus furnished his antagonists with an effective source of rid- icule. He died in 181 1, after having seen himself pilloried in the Walpurgis-Night. His services, nevertheless, must not be wholly measured by the place which he here occupies. He was evidently honest, although vain and narrow-minded. For several years, his authority in Berlin was fully equal to that of Gottsched in Leipzig, a generation before ; and his friendship with Lessing and Mendelssohn is an evidence both of his culture and character. But when, not recogniz- ing the later giants, he attempted to stand in their way, he was crushed. 144. We are so wise, and yet is Tegel haunted. Nicolai's arrogant manner is parodied in this passage. Since he does not believe in the spirits, it is incredible that they will not vanish. His annoyance at their appearance in Tegel — a small castle, a few miles northwest of Berlin, origi- nally built as a hunting-lodge by the Elector of Brandenburg, and more recently known as the home and burial-place of Wilhelm and Alexander von Humboldt — is explained by the circumstance that in 1797 apparitions were declared to have visited the castle. So much excitement was created by the report, that an official visit to Tegel was made by the authorities, and attempts were instituted, .but without suc- cess, to discover the cause of the ghostly sights and sounds. NOTES. 315 In Varnhagen von Ense's Tagebuch, published since his death, I find the following curious statement : — " Tegel is haunted, as is known : this winter the Minister (Wilhelm) von Humboldt is said to have seen his double there. The servant entered, terrified to find him sitting at his writing-desk, and confessed, in his confusion, that he had just left him lying in bed. The Minister followed the servant into his bedchamber, also saw himself lying in bed, observed the thing for a while, did not approach nearer, however, but went quietly away again. After half an hour the apparition had disappeared." 145. Yet something from a tour I always save. This is an allusion to Nicolai's interminable narrative of his journey through Germany and Switzerland. The parody of his manner is continued in his repetition of the same idea, as in one of the Xenien which Goethe and Schiller wrote in partnership in 1796 : — " What he thinks of his age he says ; he gives his opinion, Says it again aloud, says he has said it, and goes." The allusion of Mephistopheles to the leeches needs no further explanation. 146. A red mouse from her mouth, Goethe here refers to an old superstition concerning one of the many forms of diabolical possession. Perhaps he also remembered the following story, quoted by Hayward from the Deutsche Sagen : — " The following incident occurred at a nobleman's seat, in Thiiringia, about the beginning of the seventeenth century. The servants were paring fruit in the room, when a girl, be- coming sleepy, left the others and laid herself down on a bench, at a little distance from the others. After she had lain still a short time a little red mouse crept out of her mouth, which was open. Most of the people saw it and showed it to one another. The mouse ran hastily to the open window, crept through, and remained a short space 3i6 FAUST. without. A forward waiting-maid, whose curiosity was ex- cited by what she saw, in spite of the remonstrances of the rest went up to the inanimate maiden, shook her, moved her to another place a little further off, and therr left her. Shortly afterwards the mouse returned, ran to the former familiar spot where it had crept out of the maiden's mouth, ran up and down as if it could not find its way, and was at a loss what to do, and then disappeared. The maiden, how- ever, was dead and remained dead. The forward waiting- maid repented of what she had done, but in vain. In the same establishment a lad had before then been often tor- mented by the sorceress, and could have no peace ; this ceased on the maiden's death." Goethe probably intended the mouse as a symbol of the bestial element in the Witches' Sabbath, by which Faust is disgusted and repelled. The apparition of Margaret, which has also a prophetic character, is the external eidolon of his own love and longing. 147. The Prater shows no livelier stir. The Prater (from the Latin pratum, a meadow) is the fa- mous public park of Vienna, which the Emperor Joseph II. dedicated " To the Human Race." It is an island enclosed by arms of the Danube, covered with a fine forest which is intersected in all directions by magnificent drives and walks. On holidays, Sunday afternoons, and pleasant summer even- ings half the population of Vienna may be found in the Pra- ter, which is one of the liveliest and cheerfuUest places of recreation in Europe. 148, Servibilis. This term 'corresponds to the " supernumerary " of our theatres. In 1799, Goethe wrote an article upon " Dilettan- tism " in literature, of which the words spoken by the Ser- vibilis are an echo. Diintzer says, referring to this passage : " The Dilettanti, to whom we are now introduced, love an immensity of material, for which reason they continually pro- duce new pieces, and by scores tpgether." NOTES. giy 149. Oberon and Titania's Golden Wedding. This Intermezzo had no place in the original plan of Faust, and Schiller is chiefly responsible for its insertion. In the summer of 1796, Goethe, who had been reading the Xenia of Martial, wrote a few imitations in German directed against his literary antagonists. Schiller caught the idea at once ; they met and worked together, sometimes independently, while sometimes one furnished the conception and another the words. The distiches grew so fast that they proposed writing a thousand ; but the number published in the Musen- almanack of the following winter was four hundred and thir- teen. (They are all given in the Nachtrdge zu Goethe's Wer- ken, by Eduard Boas: Berlin, 1859.) The effect was like disturbing a hornet's nest : the air of Germany was filled with sounds of pain, rage, and malicious laughter. Mr. Lewes says : " The sensation produced by Pope's ' Dunciad ' and Byron's ' English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,' was mild compared with the sensation produced by the Xenien, although the wit and sarcasm of the latter is like milk and water compared with the vitriol of the ' Dunciad ' apd the ' English Bards.' " Mr. Lewes, however, hardly appreciates the peculiar sting of the Xenien, which do not satirize the authors as individuals, so much as their intellectual peculi- arities. During the following summer, Goethe wrote " Oberon and Titania's Golden Wedding" — not in its present form — and sent it to Schiller for the Musenalmanach of 1798, as a con- tinuation of the aggressive movement. Schiller, writing to him on the 2d of October, says : " You will not find ' Obe- ron 's Golden Wedding' in the collection ; I have omitted it, for two reasons. First, I thought it might be well to abso- lutely leave out of this number of the Almanack all stings, and assume a harmless air ; and then I was not willing that the Golden Wedding, for the amplification of which there is so much material, should be limited to so few verses. It re- mains to us for next year, as a treasure which may be greatly increased." 3i8 FAUST. There is no reply to this in Goethe's letters until the 20th of December, when he writes to Schiller from Weimar, after his return from Switzerland : " You have most considerately omitted Oberon's Golden Wedding. In the mean time it has increased to double the number of verses ; and I am in- clined to think that the best place for it would be in Faust." There were probably many changes, made by addition or omission, before it appeared as an Intermezzo in the edition of 1808. The " Walpurgis-Night's Dream" is a suggestion from Shakespeare. Most of the allusions may still be de- tected ; yet something has undoubtedly been lost, through the transitory character of the reputations thus satirized. Considered in its relation to Faust, the piece can only be ., regarded as an excrescence. At the time it was added, how- ever, Goethe designed following it with another scene of the Walpurgis-Night, the outline of which is given in Note 170. Eckermann relates that, in like manner, Goethe inserted a number of aphoristic passages and one or two poems, for which there was no special place elsewhere, in the conclud- ing part of Wilhclm Meister, where their appearance was a puzzle to both critics and readers. 150. Sons of Mieding, rest to-day. Mieding was a theatre-decorator at Weimar, and a great favorite of Goethe and the Ducal Court. After his death, in 17S2, Goethe celebrated him in the poem, " Mieding's Death." 151. Puck. Some commentators suppose that the Herald's announce- ment of the Golden Wedding refers to the final reconcilia- tion of the conflicting elements in German literature. In that case, Oberon and Titania must be accepted as repre- senting the Classic and Romantic Schools, or pei-haps Rea- son and Imagination ; their quarrel, in the " Midsummer- Night's Dream," may have suggested to Goethe their use as " properties " for the representation of his satirical fancies. Puck appears to stand for the whimsical, perverse element NOTES. 3ig which frequently appears to control the tastes of the multi- tude, rather than for an individual. The name {from the same root as the Swedish poika, a boy) and the tricksy nature of the imp in Shakespeare, harmonize with this in- terpretation. 152. Ariel. Ariel is called from the " Tempest " to join his fellow- elves. Here he evidently represents Poetry, — the pure ele- ment, above and untouched by the fashions of the day. 153. Orchestra. Perhaps Goethe had in his memory the Frogs of Aristoph- anes. The Orchestra must either be the crowd of literary aspirants, who, like insects, keep up a continual piping and humming, which annoys the ear ; or it represents the chorus of followers surrounding the various literary celebrities of the time, arid repeating their several views with a shrill, persistent iteration. * 154. Solo. Some pompous bagpipe-droner is here indicated, but no- body seems to know whom. Goethe invented the word Scknecke-schnicke-schiiack to describe the long-drawn, nasal snarl of the instrument. 155. Spirit, just grom'Ing into Form. The name might be translated Embryo-Spirit. " Goethe undoubtedly herewith designates those botching poetasters, who, without the slightest idea that every living poem must flow spontaneously from within as an organic whole, miser- ably tack and stitch rhymes together, and thus produce mal- formations which they attempt to pass off as creations of beauty." — Diintzer. The following distich from the Xenien has a certain resem- blance to the above : — " Everything in this poem is perfect, tliought and expression. Rhythm : but one thing it lacks : *t is not a poem at all." 320 FAUST. 156. A Little Couple. Hartnng thinks the Counts Stolberg are the COtepIe ; but this is improbable, since they are afterwards introduced as the Weathercock. Diintzer asserts that the verse represents the union of bad music and commonplace poetry; 157. Inquisitive Traveller. This is Nicolal, in another mask. The meaning of his reference to Oberon is not very clear, unless the latter rep- resents the classic school. When he speaks the second time in this Intermezzo the Inquisitive Traveller describes him- self much more distinctly. 158. Orthodox. Here speaks the class of bigots who persecuted Lessingj assailed Klopstock and Goethe, and declared Schiller's splendid poem, "The Gods of Greece," to be "a combina' tion of the most outrageous idolatry and the dreariest ath&i ism." This phrase is from Count Friedrich Stolberg, who became one of the mouth-pieces of the sect. His attack is thus answered in the Xenien : — *' Wlien thou the Gods of Greece bldspbemed, then cast thee AptfUo Pown from Parnassus ; and now goest thou to Heaven instead." 159. Northern Artist. Some suppose this to be the Danish artist Carstens, who died in Rome, in 1798; others select Fernow, a writer on art, who spent some years in Rome with Carstens ; others again insist that it is Goethe himself. Inasmuch as the point made in the verse has become very obscure, and was prob- ably not originally brilliant, the reader may take his choic© of these conjectures. 160. Weathercock. Undoubtedly the Counts Stolberg. Goethe made a tour through Switzerland with them, in 1775, when they were ardent neophytes of " Storm ai>d Stress," defying oonven- NOTES. 321 tionalities, and adoring " Nature " to such an extent that they attempted to batlie hi public in the villages. Twenty years later they were narrowly orthodox, reactionary, and absurdly prudish, — a transformation by no means uncom- mon with semi-talents, and which may be studied in the United States as well as in Germany. Turned on one side, the Weathercock is enchanted with the nude witches, and looks upon them as lovely brides ; on the other side, it ex- pects the earth to open and swallow them all. The " Purist " of the fourth preceding verse is said to be the philologist Campe, who is called in the Xenien a " fear- ful washerwoman," cleansing the German language with lye and sand. 161. Xenies. The word signifies gifts, presented to a visitor. After their publication in the Musenalmanach, the storm which arose against them became so furious that they were de- nounced in some quarters as having been directly inspired by the Devil. Hence the allusion to " Papa Satan." 162. Hennings. The Danish Chamberlain Friedrich von Hennings, in his literary journal, the " Genius of the Age," attacked Goethe and Schiller in these words : " They are faithless to their high calling ; they have disgraced the Muse by their viru- lence, their coarseness, their dulness, their personal rancor, their poverty of ideas and their malignant delight in injury." Probably on account of this abuse he is introduced by name, first ; then in the following verse as " Leader of the Muses " (from the Musaget, another journal which he conducted); and a third time as the " Cidmant Genius of the Age," — his journal having died a natural death in 1803. The first verse parodies his abuse of Goethe and Schiller ; the second hints that he would be more at home among Blockaberg witches than as a leader of the Muses ; and the third satirizes his practice of giving a place on the German Parnassus to such authors as flattered him by an obsequious respect for his critical views. 14* u 322 FAUST. 163. Crane. " Lavater was a thoroughly good man, but he was sub- jected to powerful illusions, and the severe and total truth was not his concern : he deceived •himself and others His gait was like that of a crane, for which reason he appears as the Crane on the Blocksberg." — Goethe to Eckermann, 1829. 164. Worldling. Weltiind, literally " world-child," a term which Goethe applies to himself in his epigrammatic poem, " Dinner at Coblenz,'' where he sat between Lavater and Basedow : — '* Prophete rechts, Prophete links Das Wehkind in der Mitten." [Prophets right, and Prophets left, The World-child in the middle.] He here speaks in his own person, satirizing Lavater and his followers. The Dancers, who follow, are the philosophers, the sound of whose approaching drums turns out to be only the bitterns booming their single monotonous note among the reeds. 165. Good Fellow. Hayward and most other English translators convert this name into " Fiddler," either supposing that where there is dancing there must be fiddling, or mistaking Fideler for Fiedler. This verse and the foregoing (the " Dancing Mas- ter") were first inserted in the last complete edition of Goethe's works, which appeared just before his death. The Good Fellow is apparently introduced solely for the purpose of commenting on the hate and mutual pugnacity of the phil- osophic sects. The Dogmatist, who, if he is a particular individual, can- not easily be identified, suggests a passage in one of Goethe's letters to Schiller : " The Copenhagen clique and all the refined dwellers along the Baltic shore will derive from the Xenien a new argument for the actual and incontrovertible existence of the Devil ; and we have therefore, after all, done them an important service." NOTES. 2>n i66. Idealist. It is generally admitted that this is Fichte, who, to borrow the words of a German commentator, " comprehended the Not-Me itself as a product of the self-determined Me, and not as something existing externally to the Me." When Goethe heard that a company of riotous students had col- lected before Fichte's house and smashed his windows in with stones, he remarked that Fichte might now convince himself, in the most disagreeable way, that it was possible " for a Not-Me to exist, externally to the Me." 167. Sceptic. This verse, like the preceding, represents a class. The Sceptic compares the Supernaturalists to treasure-seekers, who follow the appearance of flame and believe that they will soon grasp the reality of gold. Since Doubt (Zweifel) is the only rhyme — and, moreover, an ■ imperfect one — for Devil { Teufel), in German, the Sceptic finds himself at home on the Blocksberg. 168. The Aijroit. Here the verses take a political turn, and the reader must bear in mmd the general break-up of the old order of things in Europe, at the beginning of this century. The Adroit are those who shift themselves according to political changes, and walk gn their heads or on their feet, as circumstances may exact. The following verse represents the opposite class, who managed to sponge their way very well under the former Rigime, but cannot adapt themselves to the new order. They are the parasites of a system, ^.nd with any change their occupation is gone. 169. Will-g'-the-Wisps. This and the next verse again indicate two exactly oppo- site classes. The former are the political paruenus who are thrown to the surface by a revolution, and, in spite of their 324 FAUST. obscure origin, rank at once with the highest; while- the Shooting Star represents the titles and celebrities cast down from their high places by the same political movement, and looking for any form of help which may again set them upon their feet. In the second following verse, — the " Heavy Ones," — some commentators see the ignorant, brutal, revolutionary masses ; others the writers of the Romantic school and their exaggerated manner. In Goethe's dithyrambic, " German Parnassus," he thus describes the crush and onset of the masses of rude literary aspirants : — " Ah, the bushes down are trodden ! Ah, the blossoms crushed and sodden 'Neath the footsteps of the brood : Who shall brave their angry mood? " The latter interpretation is the more probable, since Ariel, who is Poetry, addresses them in words appropriate to liter- ary, not political masses. When Puck speaks of himself as "the stout one," Goethe seems to have remembered the words of the Fairy in the " Midsummer-Night's Dream," in taking leave of Puck : — " Farewell, thou lob of spirits I I '11 be gone." 170. And all is dissipated. The transition from this Intermezzo to the succeeding scene of Faust is too violent, and we cannot help wishing that the course of the drama had not been thus interrupted. Goethe, however, not only projected but partly wrote an ad- ditional scene, devoted exclusively to the pure diabolism of the mediaeval traditions. While we must admit that a correct instinct led him to withhold it, we still must feel that an inter- mediate scene is necessary. The gap which we recognize was felt by the author, whose work was produced at long in- tervals of time, and in fragments the character of which was determined by his moods of mind. But he always preferred an abrupt chasm to an unsatisfactory bridge. The projected scene is generally styled " The Brocken NOTES. 325 Scene" by the German commentators, although Hartmig takes the liberty of calling it "The Court of Satan." I trans- late it (with the exception of one short passage) precisely as it is given in the Paralipomena^ with its rapid short-hand out- lines, its incomplete dialogues and omitted lines, and leave all comment to the reader : — THE HARTZ MOUNTAINS. A Higher Region- After the Intermezzo : Solitude, Desert, blasts of trumpets. Light- m'lig, thunder from above. Columns of fire, stifling smoke. Rock, pro- jecting therefrom : 't is Satan. Much people around : delay : means of pressing through : injury : cries. Chant : they stand in the inner circle: the heat almost insupportable. Who stands next in the circle. Satan's address : presentations : investitures. Sinking of the appari- tion. Volcano. Disorderly dissolution, breaking and storming away. Summit of the Broceen, Satan on his Throne. A Crowd of People around. Faust and Mephistopheles in the nearest circle. SATAN {^speaking from the throne). The goats to the left hand, The bucks to the right I The goats, they have scented The bucks with delight : And though in their nostrils The sense were increased, The goats would endure it, Nor shrink in the least. CHORUS. Fall down on your faces, Your Master adore ! He teaches the people, With pleasure, his lore. To his oracles hearken : He '11 show you the clews To the endless existence That Nature renews I 326 FAUST. SATAN {iurniTig to the rigkf). Two things are before you, Both splendid and gran^ ^ The glittering gold The one is purveyor, The other devours ; Th^n blest, who possesses Together their powers ! A VOICE. What says then the M^ter ? Remote from his statiop, I catch not so clearly The precious oration,. I cannot detect them, The beautiful clews; Nor see the existence Xhat Nature renews ! SATAN {turning to the left). Two things are before yoa Of brilliancy dear : The glittering gold Then learn, all ye women. Through gold to enjoy Fall down on your faces, Adoringly stirred I O blest, who is nearest And heareth the word I I stand at a distance And listen so steady. Yet many a word has Escaped me already. Who '11 clearly repeat them ? Who '11 show me the clews To the endless existence That Nature renews? NOTES. 327 MEPHISTOPHELES {to a yoiins wiich). Why weep'st thou, lovely little dear? 'T is not the place to shed a tear. Hast thou been in the crowd too rudely pushed and penned? MAIDEN. Ah, no ! The Master speaks so singular And all are so delighted, it appears ; Perhaps the great ones, only, comprehend? MEPHISTOPHELES. But, sweetheart, come now, dry thy tears ! So that the Devil's meaning reach thine ears, SATAN. Ye young ones, before us To stand ye are bidden ; I see that on broomsticks Ye hither have ridden : Separate Audiences. Let me attain to that — The power whereto thou knowest me aspirant, Then gratefully, though born a Democrat, I '11 kiss thy hoofs no less, O Tyrant 1 master of ceremonies. The hoofs ! but once may that befall : Thou must make up thy mind to go still further. What, then, requires the ritual? SATAN. Vassal, thou tested art I Now o'er a million souls thy freehold reaches : He who can praise like thee the Devil's-^ Shall never lack in sycophantic speeches. 328 FAUST. ANOTHER PART OF THE BROCKEN. Lower Region. Vision of Judgment. Crowd. They cHmb a tree. Remarks of the people. On burning soil. The Idol naked. The hands bound on the back. CHANT. Where hot and fresh flows human blood, For magic spells the reek is good. The brotherhood, both black and gray, Wins power for works that shun the day. What hints of blood, we most require ; What spills it, answers our desire. Round fire and blood a measure tread ! For now in fire shall blood be shed. The wench she points, we know the sign ; The toper drinks, 't is blood, not wine. The look, the drink, end what 's begun ; The dagger's bare, the deed is done. Flows ne'er alpne a fount of blood, But other streamlets join the flood : From place to place they gush and glide, And gather more to swell the tide. The head falls off: the blood leaps and extinguishes the fire. Night Tumult. Chattering of Devils' changelings. Thereby Faust learns. Some of ■ the German commentators suppose that the "black and gray brotherhood" of this concluding chant are the Franciscan and Dominican monastic orders, and there- fore that the fragment refers directly to the Inquisition. Diintzer asserts that the heading "Another Part of the Brocken" indicates that this is a separate outline^or the whole scene, intended as a substitute for the foregoing frag- ments, not as a continuation of them. 171. Dreary Day. Riemer states that Goethe dictated the whole of this scene to him, as it stands, without a pause This must have oc- curred between 1803, when he first entered Goethe's service, NOTES. 229 and 1808, when the FirSt Part Was published. It does not therefore follow that the scene was then composed, as most of the critics seem to take for granted. The style of the original at once suggests the Werther period, and I cannot resist the impression that it was then first written, nearly in its present forrtt. There are evidences in Goethe's corre- spondence that more than one scene of Faust existed in prose, many years before the time of which Riemer speaks ; and it is quite possible that other plans for bridging over the gap between the Walpiirgis-Night and the Prison Scene have been lost. It would be consistent with Goethe's habits as an author, to return to his first conception after the failure of later ones, and, inasmuch as the metrical form of his poetry depended on temporary moods, or varieties of inspiration, — that is, it was never mechanically planned in advance, — it is not stretching conjecture too far to assume that, be- Coniing weary of so many fruitless attempts, he finally dic- tated the scene from memory, as originally written. Another proof that this or a very%imilar scene was in existence before 1790, is the surprise expressed by Wieland to Bottiger that the Faust " Fragment " of that year did not contain the passage wherein Faust becomes so furious that even Mephistopheles is almost terrified at his violence. At this time, ten years had elapsed since Goethe read the man- uscript scenes before the Court circle of Weimar. M. Stapfer insists that this scene was given in prose " in order that it might not he said that any possible form of expression was wanting to Faust" The whole question of employing metre or prose for dramatic subjects had been thoroughly discussed by Schiller and Goethe, and the em- phatic expression of the latter, " Everything poetical in char- acter must be rhythmically treated," is sufficient evidence that he was here guided by necessity rather than choice. The remaining passages of the Paralijiomena belonging to the First Part may now be appropriately given. It would appear from the following verse that Goethe at one time intended taking Faust to Rome, as in the le- geiid : — 330 FAUST, MEPHISTOPHKLES. From soot and witch away to speed The pennon southward now must lead ; Yet there, instead, the Fates compel With priests and scorpions to dwell. The next quatrain was evidently intended for the mouth of Faust, on his southward journey : — Warmer breezes, hither blow, On our foreheads playing ! Ye were wont to cheer us so In our youthful straying. Then follows the commencement of a scene, which may have been designed as a substitute for that which suc- ceeds : — A cross hy the roadside ; io the right an old castle on the kill; in ike distance a peasants kui. What is 't, Mephisto? Why such hurry? Why at the cross cast down thine eyes ? MEPHISTOPHELES. I 'm well aware it is a prejudice ; But, never mind, I find the thing a worry. The last fragment contains nothing from which its desti- nation may be guessed : — MEPHISTOPHELES. Let none in earnest ask, or cavil ; I 'm of my race ashamed, of late : They fancy, when they say The Devil, They 've uttered something great. 172. Open Field. This brief, uncanny scene seems to have been inserted as a transition between the different keys of those which pre- cede and follow. The "Ravenstone" is the old German word for a place of execution. Byron probably remembered NOTES. 331 the expression, from Shelley's oral translation, when he wrote, in u rejected chorus of the " Deformed Trans- formed " : — *' The raven sits On the raven-stone." 173. My mother, the harlot. The last line of Faust's soliloquy at the door: "Fort! Vein Zagcn zogert den Tod heran ! " is one of those para- doxical sentences, the meaning of which it is more easy to feel ,than to reproduce. Zogern, like its English equivalent, is an intransitive verb ; but Shakespeare's example may justify me in using the verb to linger, with an object, as Goethe uses zogern. The former expression is the literal reproduction of the latter. The song which Margaret sings is a variation of one in the Low German dialect, in a story called the Machandel- Boom (The Juniper-Tree : the English translator, mistaking Mackandel for Mandel, renders it "almond tree"), included by the brothers Grimm in their well-known collection of popular fairy lore. I borrow Haywards abbreviation of the story : — " The wife of a rich man, whilst standing under a juniper tree, wishes for a. little child as white as snow and as red as blood ; and on another occasion expresses a wish to be buried under the juniper when dead. Soon after, a little boy, as white as snow and as red as blood, is born ; the mother dies of joy at beholding it, and is buried according to her wish. The husband marries again, and has a daugh- ter. The second wife, becoming jealous of the boy, murders him, and serves him up at table for the unconscious father to eat. The father finishes the whole dish, and throws the bones under the table The little girl, who is made the in- nocent assistant in her mother's villany, picks them up, ties them in a silk handkerchief, and buries them under the juni- per tree. The tree begins to move its branches mysteri- ously, and then a kind of cloud rises from it, a fire appears in the cloud, and out of the fire comes a beautiful bird, which flies about singing the following song: — 3_j2 f-'A UST. * Min Moder de mi slaclM't, Min Vader de mi att, Min Swester de Marleenken Socht alle mine Beeniken, Un bindt sie in een syden Dook, Legts unner den Machandelboom ; Kywitt I Eywitt ! acli watt en sdion Vagel bin ich I ' " 174. My wedding-day it was to be 1 One of the cotMirientatois asserts that this line liiust be literally accepted, — that the day dawning was actually that fixed upon by Faust for his marriage with Msirgaret! The details of the execution, which Margaret describes, belong to the past centuries. The tolling of the bell ; the breaking of a white wand by the judge after the reading af the sentence of death, as a symbol that the culprit's life is thus broken ; the binding to the seat, and the flash of thfe executioner's sword, are all features which accompanied the act. 175. Ye angels, holy cohorts, guard me 1 Wilhelm Meister gives evidence that Goethe made a care- ful study of " Hamlet," and the following lines, on the appearance of the Ghost in the Queen's chamber (Act III, Scene 4), may have lingered in his memory : — ** Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings, Ye heavenly guards ! " 170. She is judged! Goethe here employs, in a different sense, a phrasfe from the puppet-play. When the end of Faust's twenty-four years of enjoyment draws nigh, a voice calls from above : Prapara te ad mortem ! Soon after, interrupted by Faust's prayers and words of remorse, the exclamation follows : Accusatus es! — then jfudicatus es ! and finally : In aternam damnatus es I — vf hereupon Faust disappe.^rs from the eyes ef the spectators. Some, forgetting that the terms of the compact have not yet been fulfilled, interpret the words of Mephistopheles NOTES. 333 " Hither to me ! " as implying that he thenceforth takes full possession of Faust. The voice from above announces that Margaret is saved, and the scene instantly closes, as if the mist and vapor out of which the forms arose had again rolled over them. Goethe so concealed his plan for the Second Part of Faust that we must first become familiar with it before we can return and trace in the First Part the threads which connect the two. The "little world" of individual passion, emotion, and aspiration here comes suddenly to an end; but beyond it still lies the "great world," where the interests and passions which shape Society, Government, and the development of the human race are set in motion to solve the problem of Faust's destiny. APPENDIX. APPENDIX I. THE FA UST-LEGEND. SO many references have been made, in the foregoing Notes, to the various forms of the old Faust-legend, that a brief account of its origin and the changes in its character introduced by successive narrators is all that need now be added. The reader who is specially interested in the subject will find no difficulty in prosecuting his researches further : * no legend of the Middle Ages has bgen so assiduously un- earthed, dissected and expounded. The slow revival of science in Germany, France and Italy, furnished the. ignorant multitude with many new names which passed with them for those of sorcerers, and gradually dis- placed the traditions of Virgilius, Merlin, and others who had figured in their lore for many centuries. Raymond Lully, Roger Bacon, Paracelsus, Cornelius Agrippa, the Abbot Tritheim (Trithemius), and many other sincere though con- fused workers, were believed by the people to be ni league with evil spirits, and their names became nuclei, around which gathered all manner of floating traditions. The fif- teenth and sixteenth centuries, from the movements in hu- man thought which they brought forth, were naturally rich in such stories, for even the most advanced minds still re- tained a half-belief in occult spiritual forces. Melancthon, | himself, is our chief evidence in relation to the jjerson and character of the Faust of the legend. * The collection of narratives given by Scheible in his Klosier, and the accounts in Diintzer's and Leiitbecher's commentaries on Faust^ may still be easily procured. VOL. I IS V 338 FAVlT. It is possible tliat there was PTiother person of this name, and of some local reputation, in the fifteenth century. George Sabellicus, a noted charlatan, of whom the Abbot Tritheim writes in 1509, called himself Fausltis minor. The name (signifying fortunate, of good omen) was not unusual : it was the baptismal name of the younger Socinus, whotaught his Unitarian doctrines in Poland and Transylvania, and whom some have very absurdly attempted to connect with the legend; for he was not born until 1539. The Johann IFaust of the popular stories was undoubtedly an individual of that name, born towards the close of the fifteenth century, in the little town of Knittlingen, near Maulbronn, in Wiirtem- berg. His parents were poor, but he was enabled by the bequest of a rich uncle to study medicine. He attended the University of Cracow (where he probably received his Doc- ' tor's degree), studied magic, which was there taught as an accepted branch of knowledge, and appears to have after- wards travelled for many years through Europe. Manliu s- the disciple of Melancthon, quotes the latter as having said-' "This fellow Faust escaped from our town of Wittenberg, after our Duke John had given the order to have him im- prisoned. He also escaped from Nuremberg, under the like circumstances. This sorcerer Faust, an abominable beast, a common sewer [daaca] of many devils, boasted that he, by his magic arts, had enabled the Imperial armies to win their victories in Italy.'' It was probably the famous battle of Pavia (1525) of which Faust spoke, as the time of his visit to Wittenberg appears to have been about the year 1530. Another evidence of Faust is found in the Index Sanitatis of the physician, Eljilip_Begardi, which was published at \Vc*nis in 1539- He therein says: " Since several years he has gone through all regions,, provinces and kingdoms, made his name known to everybody, and is highly renowned for his great skill, not alone in medicine, but also in chiro- mancy, necromancy, physiognomy, visions in crystal, and the like other arts. And also not only renowned, but written down and known as an experienced master. Him.'^elf ad- mitted, nor denied that it was so, and that his name was APPENDIX. 33Q Faustus, and called YaxasAi philosophum phihsophorum. But how many have complained to me that they were deceived by him — verily a great number ! " The third witness is the theologianjohann Gast, who in his Semiones Conviviales describes a dinner given by Faust at Basle, at which he was present. After mentioning the two devils who attended Faust in the form of a dog and a horse, he says : " The wretch came to an end in a terrible manner ; for the Devil strangled him. His dead body lay constantly on its face on the bier, although it had been five times turned upwards." Gast probably makes this last statement on the strength of some popular rumor. Faust seems to have grad- ually passed out of notice, and we have no particulars of his death which possess the least authenticity. Melancthon, in his discourses as Professor at Wittenberg, Luther in his " table-talk," and the other Protestant theologians of that periocT, almost without exception, expressed their belief in a personal, visible Devil, then specially active in their part of the world. Luther even describes the annoyances to which the Devil subjects him, with a candor which c:innot now be imitated ; and the same belief naturally took grosser and more positive forms among the common people. The wandering life of Johann Faust, as physician and necromancer, must have made his name well known throughout Germany; his visit to Wittenberg and the reference to him in the three works already quoted, would distinguish him above others of his class, and every floating rumor of diabolical compact, power, and final punishment would thenceforth gather around his name as iron filings around a magnet. The various books of magic entitled Faust's ffollenzwang (Infernal Influences) were all published with false early dates, after Faust's name became generally known, and are therefore of no value as evidence. The attempt, also, to connect him with Fust, Guttenberg's associate in printing, has no foundation whatever. The original form of the legend is the book published by Spiess, hi Frankfurt, in 1587. Its title runs thus : "History of Dr. Joh. Faust, the notorious sorcerer and black-artist ; 340 FAUST. How he bound himself to the Devil for a certain time: What singular adventures befell him therein, what he did and carried on until finally he received his well-deserved pay. Mostly from his own posthumous writings; for all presumptuous, rash and godless men, as a terrible example, abominable instance and well-meant warning, collected and put in print. James, IIII., Submit yourselves therefore to God : resist the Devil, and he will flee from you." The book must have been instantly and widely popular, for a second edition was published in 1588 ; a Low-German ver- sion in LUbeck and an English ballad on the subject, the same year ; an English translation in 1590, two Dutch trans- lations in 1592, and one French in 1598. From the first of these Marlowe obtained the material for his tragedy of " Dr. Faustus," which appears to have been first acted in London i" 15931 the year of his death. It was published in 1604, and no doubt formed part of the repertory of the companies of English strolling-players who were accustomed to visit Germany. In the Dutch translation dates are given, apparently for the purpose of making the story more credible. The year 1491 is mentioned as that of Faust's birth ; his first compact with the Devil, for seventeen years, was made on the 23d of October, 1514; his second, for seven years, on the 3d of August, 1531 ; and he was finally carried off by the Devil at midnight, on the 23d of October, 1538. The term of twenty- four years, which is not a mystical number, is thus obtained by adding the two mystical terms, 17 and 7. In the English translation the village of Kindling, in Silesia, is given as Faust's birthplace ; another tradition, adopted in the origi- nal Frankfurt work, says Roda, near Weimar. This oldest book repeats Melancthon's statement of Faust's studies at Cracow, and his fame as a physician and sorcerer. It then describes the manner of his summoning the Devil at night, in a forest near Wittenberg. Afterwards the evil spirit visits him in his dwelling, and three several " disputations " take place, at the third of which the spirit gives his name as Mephoitopltiles. The compact for the APPENDIX. 341 term of twenty-four years is thereupon concluded. When Faust pierces his hand with tlie point of a linife in order to sign the compact, the blood flows into the form of the words O Homo Fiige I signifying : " O man, fly from him ! " Meph- ostophiles first serves him in the form of a monk, supply- ing him with food and wine from the cellars of the Bishop of Salzburg and other prelates, and with rich garments from Augsburg and Frankfurt, so that Faust and his Famulus, Christopher Wagner, are enabled to live in the utmost lux- ury. It was not long, however, before Faust desired to marry, but tliis was in no wise permitted, Mephostophiles saying that marriage was pleasing to God, and therefore 'ay, and also how easy it is, in the perplexing labyrinth of German comment, to miss the simplest and surest key to Goethe's many-sided allegories. The first mistake which many of the critics have made is in attempting any comparison of the two parts. While tl^e moral and intellectual problem, which is first stated in the Prologue in Heaven, advances through richer and broader phases of development to its final solution, the story which comes to an end in Margaret's dungeon is not resumed. The Second Part opens abruptly in a broad, bright, crowded world ; we not only breathe a new atmosphere, but we come back to Faust and Mephistopheles as if after a separation of many / years, and find that our former acquaintances have changed in the interval, even as ourselves. " It must be remembered," says Goethe, "that the First Part is the development of a somewhat ob- scure individual condition. It is almost wholly subjective ; it is the expression of a confused, restricted, and passionate nature." On the other hand, we learn from the study of Goethe's life INTRODUCTION. V that the wealth of the material which he had accumulated for the Second Part occasioned an embarrassment in regard to the form, which partly accounts for the long postponement of the work. He expressly declares* that the Second Part of the drama must be performed upon a different, a broader, and more elevated stage of action ; that one who has not lived in the world and acquired some experience will not know how to compre- hend it ; and that, like an unsolved riddle, it will repeatedly allure the reader to the renewed study of its secret meanings. The last of these declarations is not egotistical, because it is so exactly true. No commentary can exhaust the suggestiveness of th§ work. Schiller doubted that a poetic measure could be formed, capable of holding Goethe's plan ; and we find, indeed, that the substance overflows its bounds on all sides. With all which the critics have accom- plished, they have still left enough untouched to allow fresh discoveries to every sympathetic read- er. There are circles within circles, forms which beckon and then disappear ; and when we seem to have reached the bottom of the author's mean- ing, we suspect that there is still something be- yond. The framework, lay buried so long in the sea of Goethe's mind, that it became completely incrusted, here and there with a barnacle, it is * Announcement of the Helena (quoted in note 103). Correspondence with Schiller, and Eckermann's Conversa- tions. vi FAUST. true, bat also with a multitude of pearl-oysters. Many of the crowded references are directly de- ducible from the allegory ; still more are made clear to us through a knowledge of Goethe's devel- opment, as man and poet ; while some few have lost the clew to their existence, and must probably always stand, orphaned and strange, on one side or. other of the plain line of development running through the poem. The early disparagement which the Second Part of Faust received is only in our day beginning to give way to an intelligent recognition of its grand design, its wealth of illustration, and the almost inexhaustible variety and beauty of its rhythmi- cal forms Although its two chief offences (to the German mind) are not yet, and perhaps never can be wholly, condoned, the period of misconception is over, and the voices of rage or contempt, once so frequently heard, are becoming faint and few. The last twenty-five years have greatly added to our means of elucidation ; and much that seemed to be whim or purposed obscurity is now revealed in clear and intelligible outlines. When Vischer compares the work to a picture of the old Titian, wherein the master-hand is still recognized, but trembling with age and stippling in the color with slow, painful touches, he foists that the design was already drawn, and some of the figures nearly completed, in the Master's best days. I should rather liken it to a great mosaic, which, looked at near at hand, shows us the mixture of precious INTRODUCTION. vii marbles and common pebbles, of glass, jasper, and lapis-lazuli ; but, seen in the proper perspec- tive, exhibits only the Titanic struggle of Man, surrounded with shapes of Beauty and Darkness, towards a victorious immortality. I It would have been better, undoubtedly, if the completion of the work had not been so long delayed, and Goethe had thereby been able to give us, with more limited stores of knowledge, a greater poetic unity. It is hardly the feebleness of the octogenarian which we perceive. The ac- quisitions of the foregoing thirty years seemed to have gradually formed a crust over the lambent poetical element in his nature ; but the native force of the latter is nowhere sg wonderfully re- vealed as here, since it is still able to crack and shiver the erudite surface of his mind, and to flame out clearly and joyously. Wherever it thus displays itself, it is still the same pure, illuminat- ing, solving and blending power, as in his earlier years. The reader to whom this book is a new land must of necessity be furnished with a compass and an outline chart before he enters it. He may, otherwise, lose his way in its tropical jun- gles, before reaching that " peak in Darien," from which Keats, like Balboa, beheld a new side of the world. While the Notes contain as much in- terpretation of the details of the plan as seems to be possible at present, I consider that a brief previous statement of the argument is absolutely required. viii FAUST. We must forget the tragical story of the First Part, and return to the compact between Faust and Mephistopheles, where the latter declares: " The little world, and then the great, we '11 see." The former world is at an end, and, after an open- ing scene which symbolizes the healing influences of Time and Nature, Faust and his companion appear at the Court of the German Emperor. The ruined condition of the realm gives Mephis- topheles a chance of acquiring place and power fbr Faust, through the introduction of a new finan- cial system. While this is in progress, the days of Carnival furnish the occasion for a Masquer- ade, crowded with allegorical figures, representing Society and Government. Goethe found that no detached phases of life were adequate to his pur- pose. Faust, in the First Part, is an individual, in narrow association with other individuals : here he is thrown into the movement of the world, the phenomena of human development, and becomes, to a certain extent, typical of Man. Hence the allegorical character of the Masquerade, which is confusing, from the great range and mixture of its symbolism. The Emperor's wish to have Paris and Helena called from the Shades (as in the original Legend) is expressed when Faust is already growing weary of the artificial life of the Court. Mephistopheles sends him to the mysterious Mothers, that he may acquire the means of evoking the models of Beauty ; and at this point the artistic, or aesthetic INTRODUCTION. jx element — the sense of the Beautiful in the human mind — is introduced as a most important agent of human culture, gradually refining and purifying Faust's nature, and lifting it forever above all the meanness and littleness of the world. Mephis- topheles is bound by his compact to serve, even in fulfilling this aspiration which he cannot compre- hend ; but he obeys unwillingly, and with con- tinual attempts to regain his diminishing power. After the apparition of Helena, and Faust's rash attempt to possess at once the Ideal of the Beauti- ful, the scene changes to the latter's old Gothic chamber, where we meet the Student of the First (Part as a Baccalaureus, and find Wagner, in his laboratory, engaged in creating^ a Homunculus. This whimsical sprite guides Faust and Mephis- topheles to the Classical Walpurgis-Night, where the former continues his pilgrimage towards He- lena (the Beautiful), while the latter, true to his negative character, finally reaches his ideal of Ugliness in the Phorkyads. The allegory of the Classical Walpurgis-Night is also difficult to be unravelled, but it is not simply didactic, like that of the Carnival Masquerade. A purer strain of poetry breathes through it, and the magical moon- light which shines upon its closing Festals of the Sea prepares us for the sunbright atmosphere of the Helena. This interlude, occupying the Third Act, is an- other allegory, complete in itself, and only lightly attached to the course of the drama. While it X FA UST. exhibits, in the latter connection, the aestheti'c purification of Faust's nature, its leading motive is the reconciliation of the Classic and Romanti'c elements in Art and Literature. Euphorion, the child of Faust and Helena, who vanishes in flame, leaving only his garments and lyre behind him, is then presented to us as Byron, and the Act closes with a transmigration of "the fair humanities of old religion " into the spirit and sentiment of Modern Poetry. The Fourth Act exhibits Faust to us, enlight- ened and elevated above his former self, and anx- ious for a grand and worthy sphere of activity. His aim is, to bend Nature to the service of Man, — to bar the ocean from a great stretch of half- submerged land, and thus conquer the aimless force of the unruly elements. Mephistopheles takes advantage of the political dissensions of the Empire, and the appearance of a new claimant for the crown, at the head of an army, to proffer his own and Faust's services to the Emperor. A bat- tle takes place ; the rebels are defeated, through the magic arts of Mephistopheles, and Faust re- ceives the sea-shore in feoff forever. The Fifth Act opens on the accomplished work. Faust, a hundred years old, inhabits a palace, in the midst of a green, thickly-peopled land, diked from the sea. But he has not yet found the one moment of supreme happiness. A pestilential marsh still remains to be drained ; and he has not succeeded in gaining the coveted possession of a INTRODUCTION. xi sand-hill near his palace, the residence of an old couple who have charge of a little chapel on the downs. Mephistopheles endeavors to implicate him in the guilty seizure of this Naboth's vine- yard, but is again baffled. Faust, become blind, finds a clearer light dawning upon his spirit : while the workmen are employed upon the canal which completes his great work, he perceives that he has created free and happy homes for the coming gen- erations of men, and the fore-feeling of satisfied achievement impels him to say to the passing Moment: "Ah, still delay, — thou art so fair!" When the words are uttered, he sinks upon the earth, dead. The struggle of Mephistopheles with the angels for the possession of Faust's soul, and a scene in Heaven, where Margaret ajjpears, like Beatrice in Dante's Paradise, as the spiritual guide of her redeemed lover, dose the drama. Although the condition of die compact has been fulfilled, Meph- istopheles loses his wager. In willing the Bad, he has work«d the Good : the "obscure aspiration " in Faust's nature has lifted itself, through Love, Experience, the reifioing power of the Beautiful, and beneficent activity, to more than an instinct, to a knowledge of "the "one true way." The Epilogue in Heaven carries us back to the Prol- ogue, and indicates to us, through a wondrous, mystic symbolism, the victorious vitality of Good and the omnipotence of the Divine Love. iBriefly, lihen. Act I. represents Society and Gov- xii FAUST. eminent; Acts II. and III. the development of the Idea of the Beautiful as the highest human attribute, with almost a saving power ; Act IV., War ; and Act V., Beneficent Activity, crowned by Grace and Redemption. The financial scheme, the discussion of geological theories, the union of the Classic and Romantic, and the introduction of those three tricksy spirits, the Boy Charioteer, Homunculus, and Euphorion (whom I have inter- preted as different personifications of Goethe's own Poetic Genius), must be considered as digres- sions from the direct course of the plot. In order to understand how they originated, and the prob- able raisons d'Hre by which the author justified them to his own mind, I refer the reader to tlie Notes, which will be found indispensable. I might, indeed, have greatly added to the latter, had I not felt obliged to consider that those to whom the material is not familiar may as easily lose their clew through too much detail of inter- pretation as from the unexplained text. Goethe's chief offence is the license which he allows himself in regard to his language. We find, especially in those portions which were last written, frequent instances of crabbed, arbitrary construction, words and compounds invented in defiance of all rule, and various other deviations from his own full, clear, and rounded style.* This * " That which first repels the reader in this second Faust-drama is the philological element, which is found throughout the greater part of it. A dragging march of the INTRODUCTION. xiii has been contemptuously called the " Privy-Coun- cillor's dialect " {Geheimrathssprache) by some of the critics, who assail Goethe with cries of wrath ; but it is a feature of the original which cannot be reproduced in the translation, and ought not to be, if it could be. If the reader now and then falls upon ari unusual compound, or a seemingly forced inversion of language, I must beg him to remember that my sins against the poetical laws of the English language are but a small percentage of Goethe's sins against the German. The other difficulty seems to lie partly in the intellectual constitution of the critics themselves, many of whom are nothing if not metaphysical. The ful- ness of the matter is such that various apparently consistent theories may be drawn from it, and much of the confusion which has thence ensued has been charged to the author's account. Here, as in the First Part, the study of Goethe's life and other works has been my guide through the laby- rinth of comment ; I have endeavored to give, in every case, the simplesf and most obvious inter- pretation, even if, to some readers, it may not seem the most satisfactory. diction, awkwardly long and painfully complicated sentences, a mass of unsuccessful verbal forms and adaptations, unne- cessarily obscure images, forced transitions, affected superla- tive participles and compounds, — all these things operate repellently enough upon many persons, and spoil, in advance, their enjoyment of the work." — Kostlin, Goethe's Faust, Seine Kritiker und Ausleger. xiv FAUST. I have adhered, as those familiar with the origi- nal text will perceive, to the same plan of trans- lation. The original metres are more closely reproduced than even in the First Part, for the predominance of symbol and aphorism, in the place of sentiment and passion, has, in this re- spect, made my task more easy ; and there are, from beginning to end, less than a score of lines where I have been compelled to take any liberty with either rhythm or rhyme. Indeed, the form, especially in the Helena, is so intimately blended with the symbolical meaning, that I cannot con- ceive of the two being separated ; for they are soul and body, and separation, to us, is death of the one and disappearance of the other. The classic metres, which Goethe uses, surely lend themselves as readily to the English language as to the German ; and, while I have rendered this portion of the drama almost as literally as would be possible in prose, I can only hope that the unaccustomed ear will not be startled and repelled by its new metrical character. I am not aware that either the iambic trimeter or the trochaic tetrameter has ever been introduced into English verse. The classic reader, who may miss the caesura here and there, will, I trust, recognize both the necessity and the justification. In concluding this labor of years, I venture to express the hope that, however I may have fallen short of reproducing the original in another, though a kindred language, I may, at least, have assisted INTRODUCTION. XV in naturalizing the masterpiece of German litera- ture among us, and to that extent have explained the supreme place which has been accorded to Goethe among the poets of the world. Where I have differed from the German critics and com- mentators, I would present the plea, that the laws of construction are similar, whether one builds a cottage or a palace ; and the least of authors, to whom metrical expression is a necessity, may have some natural instinct of the conceptions of the highest. B. T. March, 1871. CONTENTS. SECOND PART OF THE TRAGEDY. ACT I. Scene Page I. A Pleasant Landscape 3 II. The Emperor's Castle . «. . . 8 III. Spacious Hall (Carnival Masquerade) . . 21 IV. Pleasure-Garden (Paper-Money Scheme) . 55 V. A Gloomy Gallery ( TAe Mothers) . . 64 VI. Brilliantly Lighted Halls ... 70 VII. Hall of the Knights (Paris and Helena] . 74 ACT II. I. A Gothic Chamber, formerly Faust's . 84 II. Laboratory (Homunculus) .... 94 III. Classical Walpurgis-Night. I, The Pharsalian Fields . . . 103 II. Peneus 114 III. On the Upper Peneus, as before . 124 IV. Rocky Coves of the ^gean Sea 145 V. Telchines of Rhodes . . . -155 xviii CONTENTS. ACT III. The Helena 164 ACT IV. I. High Mountains 228 II. On the Headland (The Battle) . . .241 III. The Rival Emperor's Tent . . . 259 ACT V. I. Open Country 271 II. In the Little Garden .... 274 III. Palace 276 IV. Dead of Night 282 V. Midnight (Fausfs Blindness) .... 286 VI. Great Outer Court of the Palace {Pauses Death) 292 VII. Mountain-Gorges, Foresi-, Rock, Desert 305 NOTES .... .... 315 SECOND PART OF THE TRAGEDY. IN FIVE ACTS. ACT I, A PLEASANT LANDSCAPE. Twilight. Faust, bedded on flowery turf, fatigued, restless, endeavoring to sleep. Circle of hovering spirits in motion : graceful, diminutive figures. ARIEL.' {Chant, accompanied hy CEolian harps.) WHEN the Spring returns serener Raining blossoms over all ; When the fields with blessing greener On the earth-born children call ; Then the craft of elves propitious Hastes to help where help it can : Be he holy, be he vicious, Pity they the luckless man. Who round this head in airy circles hover, Yourselves in guise of noble Elves discover ! The fierce convulsions of his heart compose ; Remove the burning barbs of his remorses, FAUST, And cleanse Ms being from the suffered woes ! Four pauses makes the Night upon her courses,'' And now, delay not, let them kindly close \ First on the coolest pillow let him slumber, Then sprinkle him with Lethe's drowsy spray ! His limbs no more shall cramps and chills encumber^ When sleep has made him strong to meet the day. Perform, ye Elves, your fairest rite : Restore him to the holy Light ! CHORUS 3 {singly, by two or more, a&ernately and collectively). When around the green-girt meadow Balm the tepid winds exhale, Then in fragrance and in shadow Twilight spreads her misty veil : Whispers peace in accents cheerjr, Rocks the heart in childhood's play, And upon these eyelids weary Shuts the golden gates of Day. Now the Night already darkles, Holy star succeeds to star^ Dazzling lights and fainter sparkles Glimmer near and gleam afar : Glimmer here, the lake reflecting. Gleam in cloudless darlc aboon ; While, the Isllss of rest protecting. Reigns in pomp the perfect moon. Now the Hours are cancelled for thee, -Pain and bliss have fled away : Thou art whole : let faith restore thee-! Trust the new, the rising Day ! ACT I. , Vales grow green, arid hills are lifting Through the shadow-rest of morn ; And in waves of silver, drifting On to harvest, roUs the corn. Wouldst thou win desires- unbounded, Yonder see the glory burn ! Lightly is thy life surrounded -^ Sleep 's a shell, to break and spurn ! When the crowd sways, unbehevingj Show the daring will that warms ! He is crowned with all achieving, Who perceives and then performs. {lA tremendous tumult announces the approach of the Sun. ) ARliEL. Hearken! Hark! — the Hours careering! Sounding loud to spirit-hearidg. See the new-born Day appearing ! Rocky portals jarring shatter, thoebus' wheels in rolling clatter, With a crash the Light draws near ! ^ Pealing rays and trumpet-blazes, ^ Eye is blinded, ear amazes : The Unheat-d call no ohe hear ! •Slip Within each blossom-bell. Deeper, deeper, there to dwell-, -^ In the rocks, beneath the leaf! If it strikes you, you are deaf. FAUST. Life's pulses now with fresher force awakeh To greet the mild ethereal twilight o'er me ; This night, thou, Earth ! hast also stood unshaken. And now thou breathest new-refreshed before me, 6 FA UST. And now beginnest, all thy gladness granting, A vigorous resolution to restore me, To seek that highest life for which I 'm panting. — The world unfolded lies in twilight glimmer, A thousand voices in the grove are chanting; Vale in, vale out, the misty streaks grow dimmer ; The deeps with heavenly light are penetrated ; The boughs, refreshed, lift up their leafy shimmer From gulfs of air where sleepily they waited ; Color on color from the background cleareth. Where flower and leaf with trembling pearls are freighted ; And all around a Paradise appeareth. Look up ! — The mountain summits, grand, supernal,s Herald, e'en now, the solemn hour that neareth ; They earliest enjoy the light eternal That later sinks, till here below we find it. Now to the Alpine meadows, sloping vernal, A newer beam descends ere we divined it. And step by step unto the base hath bounded : The sun comes forth ! Alas, already blinded, I turn away, with eyesight pierced and wounded ! 'T is thus, when, unto yearning hope's endeavor, Its highest wish on sweet attainment grounded, The portals of fulfilment widely sever : But if there burst from those eternal spaces A flood of flame, we stand confounded ever ; For Life's pure torch we sought the shining traces, And seas of fire — and what a fire ! — surprise us. Is 't Love ? Is 't Hate ? that burningly embraces, And that with pain and joy alternate tries us ? So that, our glances once more earthward throwing. We seek in youthful drapery to disguise, us. ACT /, 7 Behind me, therefore, let the sun be glowing ! The cataract, between the crags deep-riven, I thus behold with rapture ever-growing. From plunge to plunge in thousand streams 't is given. And yet a thousand, to the valleys shaded. While foam and spray in air are whirled and driven. Yet how superb, across the tumult braided. The painted rainbow's changeful life is bending, Now clearly drawn, dissolving now and faded. And evermore the showers of dew descending ! Of human striving there 's no symbol fuller : Consider, and 'tis easy comprehending — Life is not light, but the refracted color.^ FAUST. II. THE EMPEROR'S CASTLE. HALL OF THE THRONE. Council of State awaiting the Emperor. Trumpets. Enter Court Retainers of all kinds, splendidly dressed. The Emperor advances to the throne : the Astrologer on his right hand. EMPER0R.7 I GREET you, Well-beloved and Trusty, Assembled here from far and wide ! I see the Wise Man at my side ; But where 's the Fool, his rival lusty ? SQUIRE. Behind thy mantle's flowing swell Suddenly on the stairs he fell : They bore away the weight of fat ; If dead, or drunk ? none knoweth that. SECOND SQUIRE. As quick as thought, through all the pother Him to replace there came another, Adorned and prinked with wondrous art, Yet so grotesque that all men start. AQT I g The guards their halberds cross-wise hold To bar him — them he thrusts apart : Lo ! here be comes, the Fool so bold ! MEPHJSTOPHEiES (kneeing before the throne). What 's cursed and welcomely expected f ' What is desired, yet always chased ? What evermore with care protected ? What is accused, condemned, disgraced ? To whom dar'st thou not give a hearing ? Whose name hears each man willingly ? What is 't, before thy throne appearing ? What keeps itseK away from thee ? EMPEROR. •Spare us thy words ! the time is pressing ; This is no place for riddle-guessing : These gentlemen such things explain. Solve it thyself ! — to hear I 'm fain. My old Fool went, I fear, an endless distance ; Take thou his place, come here and lend assistance ! IMephistopheles goes up and stations himself on the Em- peror's left hand.) MURMURS OF THE CROWD.' Another fool =" for worries new ! ^^ Whence came he ? --^ how did he get through ? The old one fell ^- he 's walked his path.— > He was a barrel -r- this, a lath ! EMPEROR. So now, my Well-beloved and Loyal, Be welcome all, from near and far ! You meet beneath a fortunate star ; Welfare and luck are now t])« aspects royal. I* lo ■ FAUST. But tell me why, in days so fair," When we 've withdrawn ourselves from care, And beards of beauty masquerading wear, — When gay delights for us are waiting, Why should we plague ourselves, deliberating ? Yet, since the task you think we cannot shun, 'T is settled then, so be it done ! CHANCELLOR. The highest virtue, like a halo-zone Circles the Emperor's head ; and he alone Is worthy validly to exercise it. 'T is Justice ! — all men love and prize it, None can forego, but all require and want it : The people look to him, that he should grant it. But, ah ! what help can human wit impart. Or readiness of hand, or kindly heart. When lies the State, as if in fever fretting. And brooded Evil evil is begetting? Who looks abroad from off this height supreme Throughout the realm, 't is like a weary dream. Where one deformity another mouldeth. Where lawlessness itself by law upholdeth. And 't is an age of Error that unf oldeth ! One plunders flocks, a woman one, Cup, cross, and candlestick from altar, And then to boast it does not palter, Of limb or life nowise undone. To Court behold the plaintiffs urging, Where puffs the judge on cushions warm. And swells, meanwhile, with fury surging, Rebellion's fast-increasing storm ! His easy way through crime is broken, Who his accomplices selects ; •ACT I. And " Guilty ! " hears one only spoken Where Innocence itself protects. They all pull down what they should care for, — Destroy their weal, in self-despite : How can the sense develop, therefore, Which, only, leads us to the Right ? At last, the man of good intent To flatterer and briber bendeth ; The judge, debarred from punishment. Mates with the felon, ere he endeth. I 've painted black, but denser screen I 'd rather draw before the scene. (Pause.') Here measures cannot be evaded ; When all offend, and none are aided, His Majesty a victim stands. GENERAL-IN-CHIEF. In these wild days, how discords thicken ! Each strikes and in return is stricken. And they are deaf to all commands. The burgher in his fortifications. The knight upon his rocky nest, Have sworn to worry out our patience And keep their strength with stubborn crest. The mercenaries, no whit better, Impatiently demand their pay. And, if we were not still their debtor. They 'd start forthwith and march away. Let one forbid what all would practise And in a hornet's nest he stands : The realm which they should guard, the fact is, 'T is devastated by their hands. They give the rein to wild disorder, FAUST. And half the world is wasted now ; There still are kings beyond our border, But none thinks it concerns "him anyhow. TREASURER. Trust allies, and we soon shall rue us ! The subsidies they promised to us — Like water in leaky pipes — don't come. Then, Sire, in all thy states extended- To whom hath now the nde descended ? Where'er one goes, a new lord is at home, And hopes to live in independence ; He takes his course and we look on : Such rights we 've given to our attendants That all our right to anything is gone. On parties, too, whate'er the name be, Our trust, to-d^y, is far frorn great ; Though loud their praise or fierce their blame be, Indifferent is their love and hate. The Ghibellines and Guelfs from labor ■ Are resting — both laid on the shelf. Who, therefore, now will help his neighbor? Each has enough, to help himself. The gate of gold no more unlatches. And each one gathers, digs, and scratches, While our strong-box is void indeed. LORD HIGH STEWARD. What evil I, as well, am having ! We 're always trying to be saving. And ever greater is our need : Thus daily grows this task of mine. The cooks have all they want at present, — Wild-boar and deer, and hare and pheasant, Duck, peacock, turkey, goose, and chicken : ACT I. 13 These, paid in kind, are certain piclcing, And do not seriously decline ; Yet, after all, we 're short of wine. Where casks on casks were once our cellars filling, Rare vintages of flavors finely thrilling, The noble lords' eternal swilling Has drained them off, till not a drop appears. The City Council, too, must tap their hquor ; They drink from mug, and jug, and beaker, Till no one longer sees or hears. 'T is I must pay for all the dances ; The Jew will have me, past all chances j^ His notes of hand and his advances Will soon eat up the coming years. Before they 're fat the swine are taken ; \ Pawned is the pillow, ere one waken, I The bread is eaten ere the board Vt sees. ■ THE EMPEROR [after some reflection, to Mephistopheles). Say, Fool, canst thou not add a want to these ? MEPHISTOPHELES. I ? Not at all ! I see the circling splendor — Thyself, and thine ! Should one his trust surrender, Where Majesty thus unopposed commands, Where ready power the hostile force disbands. Where loyal wills, through understanding strong, And mixed activities, around thee throng ? What powers for evil could one see combining, — For darkness, where such brilliant stars are shining ? MURMURS. He is a scamp — who comprehends. — He lies his way — until it ends. — ^^ 14 FAUST. I know it now — what 's in his mind. — What then ? — A project lurks behind ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Where, in this world, doth not some lack appear ? Here this, there that, — but money 's lacking here. True, from the floor you can't at once collect it. But, deepliest hidden, wisdom may detect it. In veins of mountains, under building-bases, Coined and uncoined, there 's gold in many places : And ask you who shall bring it to the light ? A man endowed with Mind's and Nature's might. CHANCELLOR. Nature and Mind — to Christians we don't speak sa Thence to burn Atheists we seek so, For such discourses very dangerous be. Nature is Sin, and Mind is Devil : Doubt they beget in shameless revel, Their hybrid in deformity. Not so with us ! — Two only races I Have in the Empire kept their places, And prop the throne with worthy weight. I The Saints and Knights are they : " together They breast each spell of thunder-weather, And take for pay the Church and State. The vulgar minds that breed confusion Are met with an opposing hand : They 're wizards ! — heretics ! Delusion Through them will ruin town and land. And these will you, with brazen juggle. Within this high assembly smuggle ? For hearts corrupt you scheme and struggle ; The Fool's near kin are all the band. !%#«'St»~.., ^i^^^m^C^^^^' ACT I. 15 MEPHISTOPHELES. By that, I know the learned lord you are ! What you don't touch, is lying leagues afar ; What you don't grasp, is wholly lost to you ; What you don't reckon, think you, can't be true ; What you don't weigh, it has no weight, alas ! What you don't coin, you 're sure it will not pass. EMPEROR. Therewith to help our needs you naught determine. What wilt thou, here, with such a Lenten sermon ? I 'm tired of the eternal If and How : Money we want r good, then, procure it now ! MEPHISTOPHELES. I '11 furnish what you wish, and more : 't is, true, A light task, but light things are haid to do. The gold 's on hand, — yet, skilfully to win it, That is the art : who knows how to begin it ? Consider only, in those days of blood When o'er the Empire poured a human flood. How many men, such deadly terror steeled them, Took their best goods, and here and there concealed them ! 'T was so beneath the mighty Roman sway, And ever so repeated, till our day. All that was buried m the earth, to save it : The Emperor owns the earth, and he should have it. TREASURER. Now, for a Fool, his words' are rather bright : That is indeed the old Imperial right. CHANCELLOR. Satan has laid his golden snares, to try us ; Such things as these are neither right nor pious. l6 FAUST. LORD HIGH STEWARD. Let him but bring his gifts to Court, and share tihein, And if things were a httle wrong, I 'd bear them ! GENERAL-IN-CHIEF. The Fool is shrewd, to promise each his needs ; Whence it may come the soldier never heeds. MEPHISTOPHELES. And should you think, perchance, I overreach you. Here 's the Astrologer — ask him to teach you ! The spheres of Hour an* House are in his ken : " What are the heavenly aspects ? — tell us, then ! MURMURS. Two rogues are they, — in league they 've grown, Dreamer and Fool — so near the throne ! The song is old — and flatly sung. — The Fool he prompts — the Wise Man's tongue ! ASTROLOGER (speaks : Mephistopheles prompts). The Sun himself is gold of purest ray ; The herald. Mercury, serves for love and pay ; Dame Venus has bewitched you all, for she, Early and late, looks on you lovingly ; Chaste Luna has her whims, no two alike ; Mars threatens you, although he may not strike, And Jupiter is still the splendid star. Saturn is great, though seeming small and far : As metal, him we don't much venerate, Of value slight, though heavj in his weight. Now, when of Sol and Luna union 's had, — Silver with gold, — tlien is the world made glad: All else, with them, is easy to attain, — Palaces, gardens, cheeks of rosy stain ; ACT I. ly And these procures this highly learned man, Who that can do which none of us e'er can. EMPEROR. Two meanings in his words I find, And yet they don't convince my mind. MURMURS. Why tell lis that ? — stuff stale and flat ! 'T is quackery ! — 't is chemistry ! I 've heard the strain — and hoped in vain, — And though it come — 't is all a hum. MEPHISTOPHELES. They stand around, amazed, unknowing; They do not trust the treasure-spell ; One dreams of mandrake, nightjy growing. The other of the dog of Hell. Why, then, should one suspect bewitching. And why the other jest and prate, When in their feet, they, too, shall feel the itching, When they shall walk with tottering gait ? All feel the secret operation Of Nature's ever-ruling might. And from the bases of Creation A living track winds up to light. In every limb when something twitches In any place uncanny, old, — Decide at once, and dig for riches ! There lies the fiddler, there the gold ! ■' MURMURS. It hangs hke lead my feet about. — I 've cramp i' the arm — but that is gout. — B 1 8 FAUST. I 've tickling in the greater toe. — Down all my back it pains me so. — From signs like these 't is very clear The richest treasure-ground is here. EMPEROR. Haste, then .' Thou 'It not again make off! Test now thy frothy, lying graces, And show at once the golden places ! My sword and sceptre I will doff, Mine own imperial hands I '11 lend thee, If thou liest not, therein befriend thee. But, if thou liest, to Hell will send thee ! MEPHISTOPHELES. I 'd find, in any case, the pathway there ! — Yet I cannot enough declare What, ownerless, waits everywhere. The farmer, following his share, Turns out a gold-crock with the mould : He seeks saltpetre where the clay-walls stand,'* And findeth rolls of goldenest gold. With joyful fright, in his impoverished hand. What vaults there are to be exploded, Along what shafts and mines corroded, The gold-diviner's steps are goaded. Until the Under-world is nigh ! In cellars vast he sees the precious Cups, beakers, vases, plates, and dishes. Row after row, resplendent lie : •Rich goblets, cut from rubies, stand there, And, would he use them, lo ! at hand there Is ancient juice of strength divine. Yet, trust to him who 's knowledge gotten. The wood o' the staves has long been rotten, ACT I. 19 A cask of tartar holds the wine.'s Not only gold and gems are' hiding, But of proud wines the heart abiding, In terror and in night profound: Herein assiduously explore the wise ; It is a farce, by day to recognize, But mysteries are with darkness circled round. EMPEROR. See thou to them ! What profits the Obscure ? Whate'er has value comes to daylight, sure. At dead of night who can the rogue betray ? Then all the cows are black, the cats are gray. If pots are down there, full of heavy gold, Drive on thy plough and turn them from the mould ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Take hoe and spade thyself, I pray thee, — Thou shalt be great thirough peasant-toil ! A herd of golden calves, to pay thee. Will loose their bodies from the soil. And then at once canst thou, with rapture. Gems for thyself and for thy mistress capture : Their tints and sparkles heighten the degree Of Beauty as of Majesty. EMPEROR. Then quick ! at once ! how long will it require? ASTROLOGER (prompted hy Mephistopheles). Sire, moderate such urgence of desire! Let first the gay, the motley pastime end ! Not to the goal doth such distraction tend. FAUST. First self-command must quiet and assure us ; The upper things the lower will procure us. Who seeks for Good, must first be good ; Who seeks for joy, must moderate his blood ; Who wine desires, let him the ripe grapes tread ; Who miracles, by stronger faitii be led ! EMPEROR. Let us the time in merriment efface ! And, to our wish, Ash-Wednesday comes apace. Meanwhile, we '11 surely celebrate withal More jovially the maddening Carnival. {Trumjiets. Exeunt. MEPHISTOPHELES. How closely linked are Luck and Merit, Doth never to these fools occur : Had they the Philosopher's Stone, I swear it, The Stone would lack the Philosopher ! ACT I. III. SPACIOUS HALL. WITH ADJOINING APARTMENTS Arranged and Decorated for the Carnival Masqueraded^ ' I ■'HINK not, as in our German bounds, your chance is -L Of Deatli's or Fools' or Devils' dances : Here cheerful revels you await. Our Ruler, on his Roman expedition, Hath for his profit, your fruition, Crossed o'er the Alpine high partition, And won himself a gayer State. He to the holy slipper bowed him And first the right of power besought ; Then, as he went to get the Crown allowed him, For us the Fool's-cap he has also brought. Now are we all new-born, to wear it : Each tactful and experienced man, Drawn cosily o'er head and ears, doth bear it ; A fool he seems, yet he must share it, And be, thereby, as sober as he can. They crowding come, I see already. Close coupling, or withdrawn unsteady, — The choruses, like youth from school. Come in or out, bring on your ranks ! Before or after — 't is the rule — With all its hundred thousand pranks, The World is one enormous Fool ! >— '''^ FAUST. GARDEN-GIRLS."' (Song, accompanied with mandolines.') That we win your praises tender We are decked in festal gear ; At the German Court of splendor, Girls of Florence, we appear. On our locks of chestnut glosses Wear we many a flowery bell ; Silken threads and silken flosses Here must play their parts, as well. Our desert, not over-rated. Seems to us assured and clear, For by art we Ve fabricated Flowers that blossom all the year. Every sort of colored snipping Won its own symmetric right : Though your wit on each be tripping, In the whole you take delight. We are fair to see and blooming, Garden-girls, and gay of heart ; For the natural way of woman Is so near akin to art. HERALD. Let us see the wealth of blossoms Basket-crowning heads that bear them. Garlanding your arms and bosoms ! Each select, and lightly wear them. Haste ! and bosky arbors dressing. Let a garden here enring us ! Worthy they of closer pressing, Hucksters and the wares they bring us. ACT I. GARDEN-GIRLS. Now in cheerful places chaffer, But no marketing be ours ! Briefly, clearly, let each laugher Know the meaning of his flowers. OLIVE BRANCH, WITH FRUIT.'^ Flowery sprays I do not covet ; Strife I shun, or branch above it, Foe of conflict 1 remain. Yet am I the marrow of nations. Pledge of happy consummations, Sign of peace on every plain. Be, to-day, my lucky fate Worthy head to decorate ! WREATH OF EARS (gulden). You to crown, the gifts of Ceres Here their kindly grace have sent ; Unto Use what chiefly dear is Be your fairest ornament ! FANCY WREATH. Gayest blossoms, like to mallows, — From the moss a marvel grew ! Fashion calls to light, and hallows, That which Nature never knew. FANCY NOSEGAY. What our name is, Theophrastus ,, Would not dare to say ; contrast us ! Yet we hope to please you purely, If not all, yet many,- surely, — Such as fain we 'd have possess us, Braiding us in shining tresses, 23 24 FAUST. Or, a fairer fate deciding, On the heart find rest abiding. CHALLENGE. Motley fancies blossom may For the fashion of the day. Whimsical and strangely moulded, Such as Nature ne'er unfolded : Bells of gold and stems of green In the plenteous locks be seen ! — Yet we ROSEBUDS lie concealed behind ; Lucky, who shall freshly find ! When the summer-time returneth, And the rosebud, bursting, burneth. Who such blisses would surrender ? Promise sweet, and yielding tender, They, in Flora's realm, control Swiftly eyes and sense and soul. I Under green, leafy arcades, the Garden-girls adorn and gracefully exhibit their wares ) GARDENERS.™ (Song, accompanied with theorbos.) Blossoms there, that sprout in quiet, Round your heads their charms are weaving ; But the fruits are not deceiving. One may try the mellow diet. Sunburnt faces tempt with glowing Cherries, peaches, plums, your vision : Buy ! for vain the eye's decision To the tongue's and palate's showing. ACT I. 25 Ripest fruit from sunniest closes Eat, with taste and pleasure smitten ! Poems one may write on roses, But the apple must be bitten. Then permit that we be mated With your youth, so flowery-fair : Thus is also decorated. Neighbor-like, our riper ware. Under wreaths of flowery tether, As the leafy arbors suit, All may then be found together. Buds and leaves, and flower and fruit ! {With alternating songs, accompanied with inandolines and theorbos^ both Choruses continue to set forth their wares upon steps rising aloft, and to offer them to the spectators. ] Mother and Daughter.^" MOTHER. Maiden, when thou cam'st to light, Tiny caps I wrought thee ; Body tender, soft, and white, Lovely face I brought thee. As a bride I thought thee, led To the richest, wooed and wed, As a wife I thought thee. Ah ! already many a year, Profitless, is over : None of all the wooers here Now around thee hover ; . Though with one wast wont to dance, VOL. II. 2 26 FAUST. Gav'st another nudge and glance, — Hast not found thy lover ! I to feast and revel thee Vainly took, to match one : Pawns, and hindmost man of three, Would not help thee snatch one. Every fool now wears his cap : Sweetheart, open thou thy lap ! Still, perchance, mayst catch one ! \Other maiden-playmates, you7ig and beautiful, jointhe garden- girls : the sound of familiar gossip is heard. Fishers and bird-catchers, with nests, fishing-rods, limed twigs, and other itnplements, appear, and disperse themselves among the maidens. Reciprocal attempts to win, to catch, to escape, and to holdfast, give opportunity for the most agreeable dialogues.] WOOD-CUTTERS.=' (Enter, boisterously and boorishly.) Room ! make a clearing ! Room in your revel ! The trees we level That tumble cracking : Where we 're appearing Look out for whacking. Our praise adjudging, Make clear this fable !. Save Coarse were drudging Within your borders. Would Fine be able To build their orders, Howe'er they fretted ? Be_ taught in season, For you'd be freezing Had we not sweated ! ACT I. PULCINELLI (uncmth, almost idiotic). You, Fools, are trooping, Since birtli so stooping ; The wise ones we are, From burdens freer. Our caps, tliough sleazy, And jackets breezy To wear are easy : It gives us pleasure To go with leisure. With slippered shuffles Through market-scuffles, To gape at the pother, Croak at each other ! Through crowded places You always trace us, Eel-like gliding, Skipping and hiding. Storming together : Moreover, whether You praise — reprove us. It does n't move us. PARASITES (fawiiingly-histful). Ye woodland bandsmen. And they, your clansmen. The charcoal-burners. To you we turn us : For all such plodding, Affirmative nodding. Tortuous phrases. Blowing both ways — is Warming or chilling. 27 28 FAUST. Just as you 're feeling : What profit from it ? There might fall fire, Enormous, dire, From heaven's summit, Were there not billets And coal in wagons, To boil your skillets And warm your flagons. It roasts and frizzles ; It boils and sizzles ! The taster and picker, The platter-Hcker, He sniffs the roasting, Suspects the fishes. And clears, with boasting. His patron's dishes. DRUNKEN MAN =3 [unconsciously). Naught, to-day, bring melancholy ! Since I feel so frank and free : Fresh delight and songs so jolly, And I brought them both with me ! Thus I 'm drinking, drinking, drinking! Clink your glasses, clinking, clinking ! You behind there, join the rout ! Clink them stout, and then it 's out ! Though my wife assailed me loudly. Rumpled me through thin and thick ; And, howe'er I swaggered proudly. Called me " masquerading stick ' : Yet I 'm drinking, drinking, drinking ! Clink your glasses ! clinking, clinking ! ACT I. 29 f Masking sticks, another bout ! When you 've clinked them, drink them out ! Say not mine a silly boast is ! I am here in clover laid : Trusts the host not, trusts the hostess, — She refusing, trusts the maid. Still I 'm drinking, drinking, drinking ! Come, ye others, clinking, cUnking! Each to each 1 keep up the rout ! We, I 'm thinking, drink them out. How and where my fun I 'm spying, Let me have it as I planned ! Let me lie where I am lying, For I cannot longer stand. CHORUS. Every chum be drinking, drinking ! Toast afresh, with clinking, chnking! Bravely keep your seats, and shout ! Under the table he 's drunk out. [The Herald announces various Foets'^^ — Poets of Nature, Courtly and Knightly Minstrels, Sentimentalists as well as Enthusiasts. In the crowd of competitors of all kinds, no one allo^vs another to comnience his declamation. One slips past with a few words .•] SATIRIST. Know ye what myself, the Poet, Would the most rejoice and cheer ? If I dared to sing, and utter. That which no one wants to hear. 3° FAUST. [T/te Night and Churchyard Poets excuse themselves, because they have just become engaged in a most interesting conv^sa- tion with a newly-arisen vampire, and therefrom a new school of poetry may possibly be developed. The HERA'iD w obliged to accept their excuses, and meanwhile calls forth the Grecian Mythology, 'which, even in modern masks,] loses neither its character nor its power to charm.^ The Graces.'s AGLAIA. Life we bless with graces living ; So be graceful in your giving ! HEGEMONE. Graceful be in your receival ; Wish attained is sweet retrieval. EUPHROSYNE. And in days serene and spacious, In your thanks be chiefly gracious ! The PARCiE.^^ ATROPOS. I, the eldest, to the spinning Have received the invitation ; When the thread of Life 's beginning There is need of meditation. Finest flax I winnow featly That your thread be softly given ; Draw it through my fingers neatly. Make it thin, and smooth, and even. If too wanton your endeavor. Grasping here of joy each token, ACT I. 31 Think, the thread won't stretch forever ! Have a care ! it might be broken. CLOTHO. Know that, given to me for wearing, Lately were tlie shears supplied ; Since men were not by the bearing Of our eldest edified. Useless webs she long untangled, Dragging them to air and light ; Dreams of fortune, hope-bespangled, Clipped and buried out of sight. Also I, in ignorance idle. Made mistakes in younger years. But to-day, myself to bridle, • In their sheath I stick the shears. Thus restrained in proper measure, Favor I this cheerful place : You these hours of hberal pleasure Use at will, and run your race ! LACHESIS. In my hands, the only skilful, Was the ordered twisting placed ; Active are ray ways, not wilful, Erring not through over-haste. Threads are coming, threads are reeling ; In its course I each restrain : None, from off the circle wheeling, Fails to fit within the skein. 32 FAUST. If I once regardless gadded, For the world my hopes were vain : Hours are counted, years are added, And the weaver takes the chain. You would not recognize who now appear. Though ne'er so learned you were in ancient writing ; To look at them, in evil so delighting, You 'd call them worthy guests, and welcome here. They are The Furies,''' no one will believe us, — Fair, well-proportioned, friendly, young in years : But make acquaintance, and straightway appears How snake-like are such doves to wound, deceive us. Though they are spiteful, yet on this occasion, When every fool exults in all his blame, They also do not crave angelic fame, But own themselves the torments of the nation. What good of that, for you will trust us still ! — Each of us young and fair, a wheedling kitten. Hath one of you a girl with whom he 's smitten, We '11 rub and softly stroke his ears, until 'T is safe to tell him, spite of all his loathing, That she has also this and the other flame, — A blockhead he, or humpbacked, squint and lame, And, if betrothed to him, she 's good-for-nothing ! We 're skilled, as well, the bride to vex and sever : Why scarce a week ago, her very lover ACT I. 33 Contemptuous things to her was saying of Iier ! Tliough tliey malce up, tliere 's something ranldes ever. MEG/ERA. Tliat 's a mere jest ! For, let tliem once be married, I go to work, and can, in every case, Tlie fairest bliss by wilful whims displace. Man has his various moods, the hours are varied. And, holding the Desired that once did charm him. Each for the More-desired, a yearning fool, Leaves the best fortune, use has rendered cool : He flies the sun, and seeks the frost to warm him. Of ills for all I understand the brewing. And here Asmodi as my follower lead,=* To scatter mischief at the proper needt, And send the human race, in pairs, to ruin. TISIPHONE. Steel and poison I, not malice. Mix and sharpen for the traitor : Lov'st thou others, soon or later, Ruin pours for thee the chalice. Through the moment's sweet libation See the gall and wormwood stealing! Here no bargaining, no dealing ! Like the act and retaliation. No one babble of forgiving ! To the rocks I cry : Revenge / is Echo's answer : he who changes Shall be missed among the living. 2* C 34 FAUST. HERALD. Do me the favor, now, to stand aside, For that which comes is not to you aUied. You see a mountain pressing through the throng,'' The flanks with brilliant housings grandly hung, A head with tusks, a snaky trunk below, — A mystery, yet I the key will show. A delicate woman sits upon his neck. And with a wand persuades him to her beck ; The other, throned aloft, superb to see. Stands in a glory, dazzling, blinding me. Beside him walk two dames in chains ; one fearful And sore depressed, the other glad and cheerful. One longs for freedom and one feels she 's free : Let each declare us who she be ! Smoky torches, lamps are gleaming Through the festal's wildering train ; Ah ! amid these faces scheming I am fastened by my chain. Off, ridiculously merry ! I mistrust your grinning spite : Each relentless adversary Presses nearer in the night. Friend would here as foe waylay me, But I know the masking shapes ; Yonder 's one that wished to slay me, ■ Now, discovered, he escapes. From the world I fain would wander Through whatever gate I find ; But perdition threatens yonder. And the horror holds my mind. ACT I. HOPE. Good my sisters, I salute you ! Though to-day already suit you, Masquerading thus demurely. Yet I loiow your purpose surely To reveal yourselves to-morrow. And if we, by torches lighted. Fail to feel a special pleasure. Yet in days of cheerful leisure. At our will, delight we '11 borrow. Or alone or disunited Free through fairest pastures ranging, Rest and action interchanging. And in life no cares that fetter Naught forego, but strive for better. Welcome guests are all around us. Let us mingle with the rest"! Surely, what is best hath found us, Or we '11 somewhere find the best. PRUDENCE. Two of human foes, the greatest. Fear and Hope, I bind the faster, Thus to save you at the latest : Clear the way for me, their master. I conduct the live colossus, Turret-crowned with weighty masses ; And unweariedly he crosses, Step by step, the steepest passes. But aloft the goddess planted. With her broad and ready pinions, Turns to spy where gain is granted Everywhere in Man's dominions. 35 36 FAUST. Round her all is bright and glorious ; Splendor streams on all her courses : Victory is she — the victorious Goddess of all active forces. ZOILO-THERSITES.S' Ho ! ho ! I 've hit the time of day. You 're all together bad, I say ! But what appeared my goal to me Is she up there, Dame Victory. She, with her snowy v/ings spread out, Thinks she 's an eagle, past a doubt ; And, wheresoever she may stir. That land and folk belong to her ; But when a famous thing is done I straightway put my harness on. To lift the low, the high upset, The bent to straighten, bend the straight. That, only, gives my heart a glow. And on this earth I '11 have it so. Then take, thou beggar-cur, the blow, This magic baton's stroke of skill ! — So, twist and wriggle at Ihy will ! See how the double dwarfish ape Rolls to a hideous ball in shape ! — A marvel ! 'T is an egg we view ; It puffs itself and cracks in two : A pair of twins come forth to-day. The Adder and the Bat are they. Forth in the dust one winds and creeps ; One darkly round the ceiling sweeps. They haste to join in company : The tliird tliereio I would not be ! ACT I. MURMURS. 37 Come ! the dance is yonder gay. — No ! I woiild I were away. — Feel'st thou how the phantom race Fhts about us in this place ? — Something wliizzes past my hair. — Round my feet I saw it fare. — None of us are injured, though. — But we all are frightened so. — Wholly spoiled is now the fun. — Which the vermin wanted done. HERALD. Since, as Herald, I am aiding At your merry masquerading, At the gate I 'm watching, fearful Lest within your revels chearful Something slips of evil savor ; And I neither shrink nor waver. Yet, I fear, the airy spectres Enter, baffling all detectors. And from goblins that deceive you I 'm unable to relieve you. First, the dwarf became suspicious ; Now a mightier pageant issues Yonder, and it is my duty To explain those forms of beauty : But the thing I comprehend not. How can I its meaning mention ? Help me to its comprehension ! Through the crowd you see it wend not ? Lo ! a four-house chariot wondrous, Hither drawn, the tumult sunders ; Yet the crowd seems not to share in 't — Nowhere is a crush apparent 38 FAUST. Colored lights, in distance dimmer, Motley stars around it shimmer ; Magic lantern-like they glimmer. On it storms, as to assault. Clear the way ! I shudder ! BOY CHARIOTEER. Halt! Steeds, restrain the eager pinion, Own the bridle's old dominion. Check yourselves, as I desire you, Sweep away, when I inspire you ! — Honor we these festal spaces ! See, the fast increasing faces. Circles, full of admiration ! Herald, come ! and in thy fashion, Ere we take from here our glories. Name us, and describe and show us ! For we 're naught but allegories, Therefore 't is thy place to know us. HERALD. No, thy name from me is hidden, — Could describe thee, were I bidden. BOY CHARIOTEER. Try it ! Granted, at the start. Young and beautiful thou art, — A half-grown boy ; and yet the- woman-nature Would rather see thee in completed stature. To me thou seem'st a future fickle wooer. Changing the. old betrayed love for a newer. ACT I. 39 BOY CHARIOTEER. Go on ! So far, 't is very fine : Make the enigma's gay solution thine ! HERALD. Black lightning of the eyes, the dark locks glDwing,3' Yet bright with jewelled anadem. And light thy robe as flower on stem, From shoulder unto buskin flowing With tinsel-braid and purple hem ! One for a maiden might surrnise thee. Yet, good or ill, as it might be, The maids, e'en now, would take and prize thee : They 'd teach thee soon thy ABC. BOY CHARIOTEER. And he, who like a splendid vision* Sits proudly on the chariot's throne ? HERALD. He seems a king, of mien Elysian ; Blest those, who may his favor own ! No more has he to earn or capture ; His glance detects where aught 's amiss, And to bestow his perfect rapture Is more than ownership and bliss. BOY CHARIOTEER. Thou darest not at this point desist : Describe him fully, I insist ! HERALD. But undescribed is Dignity. The healthy, fuU-moon face I see, The ample mouth, the cheeks that fresher Shine out beneath his turban's pressure, 40 . FAUST. Rich comfort in the robe he 's wearing, — What shall I say of such a bearing ? He seems, as ruler, known to me. BOY CHARIOTEER. Plutus, the God of Wealth, is he. He hither comes in proud attire ; Much doth the Emperor him desire. HERALD. Of thee the What and How declare to me ! BOY CHARIOTEER. I am Profusion, I am Poesy.s' The Poet I, whose perfect crown is sent When he his own best goods hath freely spent Yet, rich in mine unmeasured pelf. Like Plutus I esteem myself : I prank and cheer his festal show And whatsoe'er he lacks bestow. Fresh charm to thee thy brag imparts, But let us now behold thine arts ! BOY CHARIOTEER. Just see me fillip with my fingers ! What brilliance round the chariot lingers. And there a string of pearls appears ! \contimiing to fillip and snap Ms fingers in all directions .') Take golden spangles for neck and ears, Combs, and diadems free of flaw, And jewelled riiigs as ne'er ye saw ! I also scatter flamelets bright. Awaiting where they may ignite. ACT I. 41 HERALD. How Strives the crowd with eager longing, Ahnost upon the giver thronging ! As in a dream he snaps the toys ; AH catch and snatch with crush and noise. But now new tricks have I detected : What each has zealously collected His trouble doth but poorly pay; The gifts take wings and fly away. The pearls are loosened from their band And beetles crawl within his hand ; He shakes them ofi, and then instead, Poor dolt, they hum around his head ! The others find their solid things Are butterflies with gaudy wings. How much the scamp to promise seems, And only gives what golden glaems ! 33 BOY CHARIOTEER. Masks to announce, I grant, thou 'rt worthy ; But 'neath the shell of Being to bestir thee Is not a herald's courtly task : A sharper sight for that we ask. Yet every quarrel I evade ; To thee, my Chief, be speech and question made ! ( Turning to Plutus.) Didst thou not unto me confide The tempest of the steeds I guide ? Canst thou not on my guidance reckon ? Am I not there, where thou dost beckon ? And have I not, on pinions boldest, Conquered for thee the palm thou boldest ? When in thy battles I have aided, I ever have been fortunate ; 42 FAUST. Thy brow when laurels decorate, Have I not them with hand and fancy braided ?3< PLUTUS. If there be need that I bear witness now, I 'm glad to say : soul of my soul art thou ! Thine acts are always to my mind. And thou the richer art, I find. Thy service to reward, I hold The green bough higher than my crowns of gold. To all a true word spoken be : Dear Son, I much delight in thee. BOY CHARIOTEER (to the Crowd). The greatest gifts my hand ilings out, See ! I have scattered round about. On divers heads there glows the tongue Of flame which I upon them flung, — Leaps back and forth among the shapes, On this remains, from that escapes, But very seldom upward streams In transient flush of mellow beams ; And unto many, ere they mark. It is extinct and leaves them dark. CHATTER OF WOMEN. Upon the chariot that man Is certainly a charlatan : There, perched behind, the clown is seen, From thirst and hunger grown so lean As one ne'er saw him ; if you 'd pinch. He has n't flesh to feel and flinch. THE STARVELING. Disgusting women, off ! I know That when I come, you 'd have me go. ACT I. 43 When woman fed her own hearth-jflame, ^ Then Avaritia was my name ;33 Then throve the household fresh and green, For naught went out and much came in. To chest and press I gave good heed, And that you 'd call a vice, indeed ! But since in later years, the fact is. Economy the wife won't practise, And, like the host of spendthrift scholars. Has more desires than she has dollars, The husband much discomfort brooks. For there are debts where'er he looks. She spends what spoil she may recover Upon her body, or her lover ; In luxury eats, and to excess Drinks with the flirts that round her press ; For me that raises money's price : Male is my gender. Avarice ! LEADER OF THE WOMEN. With dragons, mean may be the dragon ; It 's all, at best, but lying stuff ! He comes, the men to spur and egg on, And now they 're troublesome enough. CROWD OF WOMEN. The scarecrow ! Knock him from the wagon ! What means the fag, to threaten here ? As if his ugly face we 'd fear ! Of wood and pasteboard is each dragon : Come on — his words shall cost him dear ! HERALD. Now, by jny wand ! Be still — let none stir,! Yet for my help there 's scarcely need ; 44 FAUST. See how each grim and grisly monster, Clearing the space around with speed, Unfolds his fourfold wings of dread ! The dragons shake themselves in anger. With flaming throats, and scaly clangor ; The place is clear, the crowd has fled. (Plutus descends from the chdriot.) HERALD. How kingly comes he from above ! He beckons, and the dragons move; Then from the chariot bring the chest With gold, and Avarice thereon. See, at his feet the load they rest ! A marvel 't is, how it was done. PLUTUS (to the Charioteer). Now thou hast left the onerous burden here, Thou 'rt wholly free : away to thine own sphere ! Here it is not ! Confused and wild, to-day. Distorted pictures press around our way. Where clear thy gaze in sweet serenity, Owning thyself, confiding but in thee, Thither, where Good and Beauty are unfurled. To Solitude ! — and there create thy world ! BOY CHARIOTEER. Thus, as an envoy, am I worthy of thee ; Thus, as my next of kindred, do I love thee. Where thou art, is abundance ; where I go Each sees a splendid profit round him grow. In inconsistent life each often wavers. Whether to seek from thee, or me, the favors. Thy followers may be indolent, 't is true ; Who follows me, has always work to do. ACT 1. 45 My deeds are never secret and concealed ; I only breathe, and I 'm at once revealed. Farewell, then ! Thou the bliss hast granted mc ; But whisper low, and I return to thee ! \ExUt as he came. 'T is time, now, to unchain the precious metals ! The padlocks with the herald's wand I smite : The chest is opened : look ! from iron kettles It pours like golden blood before your sight. It boils, and threatens to devour, as fuel, Melting them, crown and ring and chain and jewel ! ALTERNATE CRIES OF THE CROWD. See here, and there ! they boil and swim ; The chest is fiUing to the brin ! — Vessels of gold are burning there. And minted rolls are turning there, And ducats jingle as they jump ! — O, how my heart begins to thump ! — All my desire I see, and more. They 're rolling now along the floor. — 'T is offered you : don't be a dunce, Stoop only, and be rich at once ! — Then, quick as lightning we, the rest, Will take possession of the chest. What ails ye, fools ? What mean ye all ? 'T is but a joke of Carnival. To-night be your desires controlled; Think you we 'd give you goods and gold? Why, in this game there come to view Too many counters even, for you. 46 FAUST. A pleasant cheat, ye dolts ! forsooth You take at once for naked truth. What 's truth to you ? Illusion bare Surrounds and rules you everywhere. Thou Plutus-mask, Chief unrevealed, Drive thou this people from the field ! 3* PLUTUS. Thy wand thereto is fit and free ; Lend it a little while to me ! I dip it in the fiery brew, — Look out, ye maskers ! all of you. It shines, and snaps, and sparkles throws ; The burning wand already glows. Who crowdeth on, too near to me, Is burned and scorched relentlessly.-^ And now my circuit I 'U commence. CRIES AND CROWDING. Woe 's me ! We 're lost — there 's no defence ! — Let each one fly, if fly he can ! — Back ! clear the way, you hindmost man ! — It sparkles fiercely in mine eyes. — The burning wand upon me lies. — We all are lost, we all are lost ! — Back, back ! ye maskers, jammed and tossed ! — Back, senseless crowd, away from there ! — O, had I wings, I 'd take the air. PLUTUS. Now is the circle crowded back. And none, I think, scorched very black. The throng retires, Scared by the fires. As guaranty for ordered law, A ring invisible I draw. ACT I. HERALD. A nobie work is thine, to-night : I tliank thy wisdom and thy might. PLUTUS. Preserve thy patience, noble friend, For many tumults yet impend. AVARICE. Thus, if one pleases, pleasantly May one survey this circle stately ; For, ever foremost, crowd the women greatly. If aught to stare at, or to taste, there be. Not yet entirely rusty are my senses ! A woman fair is always fair to me : And since, to-day, it makes me no expenses. We '11 go a courting confidently. But in a place so populate All words to every ear- don't penetrate ; So, wisely I attempt, and hope success. Myself by pantomime distinctly to express. Hand, foot, and gesture will not quite suffice, So I employ a jocular device. Like clay will I the gold manipulate ; One may transform it into any state. HERALD. What will the lean fool do ? 3? Has he, So dry a starveling, humor ? See, He kneads the gold as it were dough ! Beneath his hands 't is soft ; yet, though He roll and squeeze it, for his pains Disfigured still the stuff remains. He turns to the women there, and they AH scream, and try to get away, 47 ^8 FAUST. With gestures of disgust and loathing: The ready rascal stops at nothing. I fear he takes delight to see He has offended decAicy. I dare not silently endure it : Give me my wand, that I may cure it ! PLUTUS. The danger from -(vithout he does not see : Let him alone ; his Fool's-hour fast is waning. There '11 be no space for his mad pranks remaining; Mighty is Law, mightier Necessity. TUMULT AND SONG. The' savage hosts, with shout and hail, From mountain-height and forest-vale Come, irresistibly as Fate : Their mighty Pan they celebrate. They know, forsooth, what none can guess, And in the empty circle press. PLUTUS. I know you well, and your illustrious Pan ! Boldly together you 've performed your plan. Full well I know what every one does not, And clear for you, as duty bids, the spot. Be Fortune still her favor lending ! The strangest things may here be bred : They know not whitherward they 're wending, Because they h-.ive not looked ahead.3^ SAVAGE SOKG. Furbished people, tinsel-stuff ! They 're coming rude, they 're coming rough ; In mighty leap, in wildest race. Coarse and strong they take their place. ACT I. FAUNS. Fauns, pair on pair, Come dancing down. With oaken crown On crispy hair; The fine and pointed ear is seen, Leaf-like, the clustering curls between : A stubby nose, face broad and flat. The women don't object to that; For when his paw holds forth the Faun, The fairest to the dance is drawn. SATYR. See now, behind, the Satyr skip. With foot of goat, lean leg and hip, — Lean and sinewy must they be : For, chamois-like, on mountSlins he Loveth to stand or scamper free. Then, strong in freedom of the skies. Child, wife, and man doth he despise. Who, deep in the valley's smoke and steam That they live also, snugly dream ; While, pure and undisturbed, alone The upper world is all his own. GNOMES.39 The little crowd comes tripping there ; They don't associate pair by pair. In mossy garb, with lantern bright, They move commingling, brisk and light, Each working on his separate ground. Like firefly-emmets swarming round ; And press and gather here and there, Always industrious everywhere. With the " Good People " kin we own ; VOL. II. 3 D 49 so FAUST. As surgeons of the rocks we 're known. Cupping the mountains, bleeding them From fullest veins, depleting them Of store of metals, which we pile. And merrily greet : " Good cheer ! " the while. Well-meant the words, believe us, then ! We are the friends of all good men. Yet we the stores of gold unseal That men may pander, pimp, and steal ; Nor iron shall fail his haughty hand Who universal murder planned : And who these three Commandments breaks But little heed o' the others takes. For that we 're not responsible : We 're patient — be you, too, as well ! GIANTS. The wild men of the woods they 're named, And in the Hartz are known and famed ; In naked nature's ancient might They come, each one a giant wight, With fir-tree trunk in brawny hand, Around the loins a puffy band. The merest apron of leaf and bough : — The Pope hath no such guards, I trow. NYMPHS IN CHORUS. ( They surround the great Pan. ) He comes ! We scan The world's great All, Whose part doth fall To mighty Pan. Ye gayest ones, advance to him, Your maddest measures dance to him ! Since serious and Icind is he. ACT I. 51 He wills that we should joyous be. Under the blue, o'er-vaulting roof, Ever he seemeth slumber-proof ; Yet murmurs of the brooks he knows, And soft airs lull him to repose. At midday sleeping, o'er his brow* The leaf is moveless on the bough : Of healthy buds the balsam there Pervades the still, suspended air : The nymph no longer dares to leap, And where she stands, she falls asleep. But when, all unexpected, he Maketh his voice heard terribly, Like rattHng thunder, roar of wave, Then each one seeks himself to save ; The serried ranks disperse in fright. The hero trembles in the fiflit. Then honor to whom the honor is due, And hail to him who led us to you I DEPUTATION OF GNOMES [to the great Pan). When the rich possession, shining Through the rocks in thread and vein, To the skilful wand's divining Shows its labyrinthine chain. We in vaults and caverns spacious. Troglodytes, contented bide ; While in purest daylight, gracious, Thou the treasures dost divide. Now we see, wilt thou beUeve us, Here a wondrous fountain run, Promising with ease to give us What was hardly to be won. 52 FA UST. Lo! It waits for thy attaining: Then be moved to break the spell ! AH the wealth which thou art gaining Profits all the world as well. PLUTUS [to the Herald). We, in the highest sense, must be collected, And let what may come, conic, though unexpected. Thy courage has not yet been counted short : The fearful thing we now shall see will try it; The world and History will both deny it, So write it faithfully in thy report ! HERALD. (Grasping the wand which I'LUrus holds in his hand.) The dwarfs conduct the great Pan nigher, Yet gently, to the fount of fire. It bubbles from the throat profound, Then sinks, retreating, to the ground, And dark the open crater shows ; And then again it boils and glows. Great Pan in cheerful mood stands by, Rejoiced the wondrous things to spy, And right and left the foam-pearls fly. How can he in the cheat confide ? He bends and stoops, to look inside. — But now, behold ! his beard falls in : Whose is that smoothly-shaven chin ? His hand conceals it from our sight. What follows is a luckless plight ; The beard, on fire, flies back to smite His wreath and head and breast with flame : \ '. To pain is turned the merry game. They haste to quench the fire, but none The svviftly-kindling flames can shun, ACT I. That flash and dart on other heads Till wide the conflagration spreads : Wrapped in the element, in turn The masking groui^s talce fire and burn. But hark ! what news is bruited here From mouth to mouth, from ear to ear ? O evermore ill-fated night. That brings to us such woe and blight ! To-morrow will proclaim to all What no one wishes to befall, For everywhere the cry I hear : " The Emperor suffers pain severe ! " O were the proclamation wrong ! The Emperor burns and all his throng.'" Accurst be they who him misled, With resinous twigs on breast and head, To rave and bellow hither S0(, To general, fatal overthrow. O Youth ! O Youth ! wilt never thou Limit thy draught of joy, in season? — O Majesty, wilt never thou. Omnipotent, direct with reason ? The mimic woods enkindled are ; The pointed tongues lick upward far To where the rafters interlace : A fiery doom hangs o'er the place. Our cup of misery overflows, For who shall save us no one knows. The ash-heap of a night shall hide, To-morrow, this imperial pride. Terror is enough created ; Now be help inaugurated ! Smite, thou hallowed wand, and make S3 54 FAUST. Earth beneath thee peal and quake ! Thou, the spacious breadth of air, Coohng vapors breathe and bear ! Hither speed, around us growing, Misty fihias and belts o'erflowing. And the fiery tumult tame ! , Trickle, whisper, clouds, be crisper, Roll in masses, softly drenching, Mantling everywhere, and quenching ! Ye, the moist, the broadly bright'ning, Change to harmless summer lightning All this empty sport of flame ! — When by spirits we 're molested, Then be Magic manifested. ACT /. 55 IV. PLEASURE-GARDEN. THE MORNING SUN. ' The Emperor, /its Court, Gentlemen and Ladies: Faust, Mephistopheles, becomingly, according to the mode, not showily dressed: both kneel. FAUST. C IRE, pardon'st thou the jugglery of flame ? EMPEROR [beckoning him to rise). I wish more exhibitions of the sam« A-sudden stood I in a glowing sphere ; It almost seemed as if I Pluto were. There lay, like night, with little fires besprent, A rocky bottom. Out of many a vent, Whirling, a thousand savage flames ascended. Till in a single vault their streamers blended. The tongues even to the highest dome were shot, That ever was, and ever then was not. Through the far space of spiral shafts of flame The long processions of the people came ; Crowding, till all the circle was o'errun, They did me homage, as they 've ever done. Some from my Court I knew ; to speak with candor, A Prince I seemed o'«r many a salamander. MEPHISTOPHELES. That art thou, Sire ! Because each element Fully, accepts thy Majesty's-iateat. 5 6 FAUST. Obedient Fire is tested now by thee : Where wildest heaving, leajj into the Sea, And scarce the pearly floor thy foot shall tread, A grand rotunda rises o'er thy head : Thou seest the green, translucent billows swelling, With purple edge, for thy delightful dwelling. Round thee, the central point. Walk thou at will, The liquid palaces go with thee still ! The very walls rejoice in life, disporting In arrowy flight, in chasing and consorting : Sea-marvels crowd around the glory new and fair, Shoot from all sides, yet none can enter there. There gorgeous dragons, golden- armored, float ; There gapes the shark, thou laughest in his throat However much this Court thy pride may please. Yet hast thou never seen such throngs as these. Nor from the loveliest shalt thou long be parted ; The curious Nereids come, the wild, shy-hearted, To thy bright dwelling in the endless waters, — Timid and sly as fish the youngest daughters, The elder cunning : Thetis hears the news And will, at once, her second Peleus choose. The seat, then, on Olympus high and free — EMPEROR. The spaces of the air I leave to thee : One all too early must ascend that throne. MEPHISTOPHELES. And Earth, high Prince ! already is thine own. EMPEROR. What fortune-brought thee here, for our delights. Directly from the One and Thousand Nights ? If thou like Scheherazade art rich in stories, ACT I. My favor shall insure thee higher glories. Be ready always, when jour world of day, As often haps, disgusts me every way ! LORD HIGH STEWARD [etiters hastily). Highness Serene, I never dared expect To trumpet forth a fortune so select As this, supremely blessing me. Which I announce with joy to thee : Reckoning on reckoning 's balanced squarely ; The usurer's claws are blunted rarely ; I 'm from my hellish worry free : Things can't in Heaven more cheerful be. GENERAL-IN-CHIEF [follcrws hastily). Arrears of pay are settled duly, The army is enlisted newly ; » The trooper's blood is all alive. The landlords and the wenches thrive. EMPEROR. How breathe your breasts in broader spaces ! How cheerful are your furrowed faces ! How ye advance with nimble speed ! TREASURER (appearing). Ask these, 't is they have done the deed ! FAUST. It is the Chancellor's place the matter to present. CHANCELLOR (who comes forward slovjiy). In my old days I 'm blest, and mo4 content. So hear and see the fortune-freighted leaf ■t^ Which Jias transformed to happiness our grief. 1* 57 58 FAUST. (He reads.) " To all to whom this cometh, be it known : A thousand crowns in worth this note doth own. It to secure, as certain pledge, shall stand All buried treasure in the Emperor's land : And 't is decreed, perfecting thus the scheme, ;sjjrhe treasure, soon as raised, shall this redeem." EMPEROR. A most enormous cheat — a crime, I fear ! Who forged the Emperor's sign-manual here ? Has there not been a punishment condign ? TREASURER. Remember ! Thou the note didst undersign ; Last night, indeed. Thou stood'st as mighty Pan, And thus the Chancellor's speech, before thee, ran : " Grant to thyself the festal pleasure, then The People's good — a few strokes of the pen! " These didst thou give : they were, ere night retreated, By skilful conjurers thousandfold repeated ; And, that a like advantage all might claim. We stamped at once the series with thy name : Tens, Thirties, Fifties, Hundreds, are prepared. Thou canst not think how well the folk have fared. Behold thy town, half-dead once, and decaying, How all, alive, enjoying life, are straying ! Although thy name long since the world made glad, Such currency as now it never had. No longer needs the alphabet thy nation. For in this sign each findeth his salvation. EMPEROR. And with my people does it pass for gold ? For pay in court and camp, the notes they hold ? Then I must yield, aithough the tiling 's amazing. ACT I. 59 LORD HIGH STEWARD. 'T was scattered everywhere, like wild-fire blazing, As currency, and none its course may stop. A crowd surrounds each money-changer's shop. And every note is there accepted duly For gold and silver's worth — with discount, truly. Thence is it spread to landlords, butchers, bakers : One half the people feast as pleasure-takers ; In raiment new the others proudly go, — The tradesmen cut their cloth, the tailors sew. The crowd " The Emperor's health ! " in cellars wishes. Midst cooking, roasting, rattling of the dishes. MEPHISTOPHELES. If one along the lonely terrace stray, He sees the lady, in superb array. With brilliant peacock-fan before one eye ; A note she looks for, as she simpers by, And readier than by wit or eloquence Before Love's favor falls the last defence. One is not plagued his purse or sack to carry ; Such notes one lightly in his bosom bears, Or them with fond epistles neatly pairs : The priest devoutly in his breviary Bears his : the soldier would more freely trip, And lightens thus the girdle round his hip. Your Majesty will pardon, if my carriage Seems as it might the lofty work disparage. FAUST. The overplus of wealth, in torpor bound. Which in thy lands lies buried in the ground. Is all unused ; nor boldest thought can measure The narrowest boundaries of such a treasure. 6o FAUST. Imagination, in its highest flight, Exerts itself, but cannot grasp it quite ; Yet minds, that dare explore the secrets soundless, In boundless things possess a faith that 's boundless MEPHISTOPHELES. Such paper, stead of gold and jewelry, So handy is — one knows one's property : One has no need of bargains or exchanges, But drinks of love or wine, as fancy ranges. If one needs coin, the brokers ready stand, And if it fail, one digs awhile the land. Goblet and chain one then at auction sells, And paper, liquidated thus, compels The shame of doubters and their scornful wit. The people wish naught else ; they 're used to it : From this time forth, your borders, far and wide, With jewels, gold, and paper are supplied. EMPEROR. You 've given our empire this prosperity ; The pay, then, equal to the service be ! The soil intrusted to your keeping, shall you The best custodians be, to guard its value. You know the hoards, well-kept, of all the land. And when men dig, 't is you must give command. Unite then now, ye masters of our treasure. This, your new dignity, to wear with pleasure. And bring the Upper World, erewhile asunder,' In happiest conjunction with the Under ! "TREASURER. No further strife shall shake our joint position; I like to have as partner the magician. \Exit,with Faust EMPEROR. Man aft38r-:maii, ithe Court will I endow : Let each confess for what he '11 spend, and how! PAGE {receiving. I '11 lead a jolly life, enjoy good cheer. A iSECOND '(the sameJi. I '11 buy at once some trinkets for my dear. CHA-MBERLAIN (accepting). Wines twice as good shall down my throat go trickling. A SECOND \the same). I feel the dice within my .pockets tickling. • KNIGHT BANNERET {reflectively). My lands and castle shall be free of debt. ANOTHER (the same). I '11 add to other wealth the wealth I get. EMPEROR. I hoped the gifts to bolder deeds would beckon ; But he who knows you, knows whereon to reckon. I see that, spite of all this treasure-burst, You stay exactly as you were at first. FOOL (approaching). You scatter iavors : ^ant me also some ! EMPEROR. Thou :r*jMjnp.,toJife? '.T.,wQuld_gP at onceior rum- 62 FAUST. FOOL. The magic leaves ! I don't quite comprehend. EMPEROR. That I believe ; for them thou 'It badly spend. FOOL. There others drop : I don't know what to do. EMPEROR. Just pick them up ! they fall to thy share, too. {Exit. FOOL. Five thousand crowns are mine ? How unexpected ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Two-leggdd wine-skin, art thou resurrected ? FOOL. Much luck I 've had, but like this never yet MEPHISTOPHELES. Thou 'rt so rejoiced, it puts thee in a sweat FOOL. But look at this, is 't money's-worth, indeed ? MEPHISTOPHELES. 'T will bring thee what thy throat and belly need. FOOL. And cattle can I buy, and house and land ? MEPHISTOPHELES. Of course ! just make an offer once, off-hand ! ACT I. 63 FOOL. Castle and wood, and chase, and fishing ? MEPHISTOPHELES. All! I 'd like upon Your Worship then to call. FOOL. To-night as landed owner I shall sit. {Exit. MEPHISTOPHELES (solus). Who now will doubt that this our Fool has wit ? 64 FAl/ST. V. A GLOOMY GALLERY. Fatjst; Mephistopheles. mephistopheles.. WHAT wilt thou with me in. this, gloomy gaUery ? Is there not still enough of sport There, in the crowded, motley Court, ^ — Not chance for tricks, and fun, and raillery ? FAUST. Don't tell me that ! — In our old days the fun of it Didst thou wear out, and I '11 have none of it. Thy wandering here and there is planned Just to evade what I demand. But I 'm tormented something to obtain ; The Marshal drives me, and the Chamberlain. The Emperor orders, he will instantly Helen and Paris here before him see, — The model forms of Man and Woman, wearing, Distinctly shown, their ancient shape and bearing. Now to the work ! I dare not break my word. MEPHISTOPHELES. So thoughtlessly to promise was absurd. FAUST. Thou hast not, comrade, well reflected What comes of having used thy powers : ACT I. We 've made him rich ; 't is now expected ^ That we amuse his idle hours. 65 MEPHISTOPHELES. Thou deem'st the thing is quickly fixed : Here before steeper ways we 're standing ; With strangest spheres wouldst thou be mixed, And, sinful, addest new debts to the old, — Think'st Helen will respond to thy commanding As freely as the paper-ghosts of gold ! With witches'-riches and with spectre-pictures. And changeling-dwarfs, I 'U give no cause for strictures ; But Devil's-dariings, though you may not scold 'em, You cannot quite as heroines behold 'em. FAUST. The old hand-organ still I hear thee»play ! From thee one always gets uncertain sense, The father, thou, of all impediments : For every means thou askest added pay. A little muttering, and the thing takes place ; Ere one can turn, beside us here her shade is. MEPHISTOPHELES. I 've no concern with tire old heathen race ; They house within their special Hades.« Yet there 's a way. y FAUST. Speak, nor delay thy history ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Unwilling, I reveal a loftier mystery. — In solitude are throned the Goddesses, No Space around them. Place and Time still less ; E 66 FAUST. Only to speak of them embarrasses. They are The Mothers ! « FAUST {terrified). Mothers .' MEPHISTOPHELES. Hast thSu dread ? FAUST. The Mothers ! Mothers ! — a strange word is said. MEPHISTOPHELES. It is so. Goddesses, unknown to ye, The Mortals, — named by us unwillingly. Delve in the deepest depths must thou, to reach them : 'T is thine own fault that we for help beseech them. FAUST. Where is the way ? MEPHISTOPHELES. No way ! — To the Unreachable, Ne'er to be trodden ! A way to the Unbeseechable, Never to be besought ! Art thou prepared ? There are no locks, no latches to be lifted ; Through endless solitudes shalt thou be drifted. Hast thou through solitudes and deserts fared ? I think 't were best to spare such speeches ; They smell too strongly of the witches. Of cheats that long ago insnared. Have I not known all earthly vanities ? Learned the inane, and taught inanities ? When as I felt I spake, with sense as guide, The contradiction doubly shrill replied ; ACT I. 67 Enforced by odious tricks, have I not fled To solitudes and wildernesses dread, And that I might not live alone, unheeded, Myself at last unto the Devil deeded ! MEPHISTOPHELES. And hadst thou swum to farthest verge of ocean, And there the boundless space beheld, Still hadst thou seen wave after wave in motion. Even though impending doom thy fear compelled. Thou hadst seen something, — in the beryl dim Of peace-lulled seas the sportive dolphins swim ; Hadst seen the flying clouds, sun, moon, and star: Naught shalt thou see in endless Void afar, — Not hear thy footstep fall, nor meet A stable spot to rest thy feet. FAUST. * Thou speak'st, as of all mystagogues the chief. Who e'er brought faithful neophytes to grief ; Only reversed : — I to the Void am sent. That Art and Power therein I may augment : To use me hke the cat is thy desire. To scratch for thee the chestnuts from the fire. Come on, then ! we '11 explore, whate'er befall ; 1 In this, thy Nothing, may I find my All ! / MEPHISTOPHELES. I 'U praise thee, ere we separate : I see Thou knowest the Devil thoroughly. Here, take this key ! « FAUST. That little thing ? MEPHISTOPHELES. Take hold of it, not undervaluing ! 68 FAUST. FAUST. It glows, it shines; — increases in iliy hand f MEPHISTOPHELES. How much 't is worth, thou soon shalt understand. The Key will scent the true place from all others : Follow it down ! — 't will lead thee to the Mothers. FAUST? (shuddering). The Mothers ! Like a blow it Strikes me still I What is the word^ to hear which makes me chill ? MEPHISTGPHELES. Art thou so weak, disturbed by each new word ? Wilt only hear what thou 'st already heard ? To wondrous things art thou so used already,. Let naught, howe'er it sound, make thee unsteady ! FAUST. Nathless in torpor lies no gdod for me ; The chill of dread is Man's best quality. Though ^om the feeling oft the world may fend ttSf, Deeply we feel, once smitten, the Tremendous. MEPHISTOPHELES. Descend, thew! I could also Say: Ascend! 'T were all the same. Escape from the Created To shapeless forms In liberated spaces ! Enioy what long ere this was dissipated f There whirls the press, like clouds on clouds Uhfoldiag ; Then with stretched arm swing high the key thou 'rt holding ! FAUSt {inspired). Good ! grasping firmly, fresher strength I win : My breast expands, let the great work begin ! ACT I. 6gi MEPHISTOPHELES. At last a blazing tripod tells thee this, That there the utterly deepest bottom is. Its light to thee will then the Mothers show, Some in their seats, the others stand or go, At their own will : Formation, Transformation, The Eternal Mind's eternal recreation. Forms of all creatures, — there are floating free. They '11 see thee not ; for only wraiths they see. So pluck up heart, — the danger then is great, — Go to the tripod ere thou hesitate, And touch it with the key ! y (Faust, with the key^ assumes a decidedly commanding atti- iude. Mephistopheles, observing him.). So, that is right ! It will adhere, and follow thee tc^ light. Composedly mounting, by thy luck upborne, Before they notice it, shalt thou return. When thou the tripod hither hast conveyed, Then call the hero, heroine, from the shade, — ■ The first that ever such a deed perfected: 'T is done, and thou thereto hast been selected. For instantly, by magic process warmed. To gods the incense-mist shall be transformed. FAUST. What further now ? MEPHISTOPHELES. Downward thy being strain! Stamp and descend, stamping thou 'It rise again. (Faust stamps, and sinks out of sight.) If only, by the key, he something learn ! I 'm curious to see if he return. 7© FAUST. VI. BRILLIANTLY LIGHTED HALLS. ' Emperor and Princes. The Court in Move- ment. CHAMBERLAIN {to MEPHISTOPHELES). THE spirit-scene you 've promised, still you owe us ; Our Lord 's impatient ; come, the phantasm show us ! LORD HIGH STEWARD. Just now His Gracious Self did question me : . Delay not, nor offend His Majesty ! MEPHISTOPHELES. My comrade 's gone to set the work in motion ; How to begin, he has the proper notion. In secret he the charms must cull, Must labor with a fervor tragic : Who would that treasure lift, the Beautiful, Requires the highest Art, the sage's Magic. LORD HIGH STEWARD. What arts you need, is all the same to me ; The Emperor wills that you should ready be. A BLONDE [to MEPHISTOPHELES). One word, Sir ! Here you see a visage fair, — In sorry summer I another wear ! There sprout a hundred brown and reddish freckles, ACT I. 71 And vex my lily skin with ugly speckles. A cure ! MEPHISTOPHELES. 'T is pity ! Shining fair, yet smitten, — Spotted, when May comes, like a panther-kitten ! Take frog-spawn, tongues of toads, which cohobate, Under the full moon deftly distillate, And, wheii it wanes, apply the mixture : Next spring, the spots will be no more a fixture. A BRUNETTE. To sponge upon you, what a crowd 's advancing ! I beg a remedy : a frozen foot Annoys me much, in walking as in dancing ; And awkwardly I manage to salute. MEPHISTOPHELES. » A gentle kick permit, then, from my foot ! *^ THE BRUNETTE. Well, — that might happen, when the two are lovers. MEPHISTOPHELES. My kick a more important meaning covers : Similia similibus, when one is sick. The foot cures foot, each limb its hurt can palliate ; Come near ! Take heed ! and, pray you, don't retaliate ! THE BRUNETTE (screaming. Oh ! oh ! it stings ! That was a fearful kick, Like hoof of horse. MEPHISTOPHELES. But it has cured you, quick. To dance whene'er you please, you now are able ; To press your lover's foot, beneath the table. y2 FAUST. tADY {pressing forwards). Make room for me ! Too great is my affliction, My tortures worse than those described in fiction i His bliss, till yesterday, was in my glances, But now he turns his back, and spins with her romances! MEPHISTOPHELES. The matter 's grave, but listen unto me ! Draw near to him with gentle, soft advances ; Then take this coal and mark him stealthily On mantle, shoulder, sleeve, — though ne'er so slight, Yet penitent at once his heart will be. The coal thereafter you must straightway swallow. And let no sip of wine or water follow : He '11 sigh before your door this very night. THE LADY. It is not poison, sure ? MEPHISTOPHELES (offended). Respect, where it is due ! To get such coals, you 'd travel many a mile : They 're from the embers of a funeral pile, The fires whereof we once more hotly blew. PAGE. I love, yet stiU am counted adolescent. MEPHISTOPHELES (aside). I know not whom to listen to, at present. (To the Page.) Let not the younger girls thy fancies fetter; Those well in years know how to prize thee better. — (Others crowd around Mm.) Already others ? 'T is a trial, sooth ! ACT J. I 'U help myself, at last, with naked truth — The worst device !* — so great my misery. Mothers ! Mothers ! let but Faust go free ! { Gazing around him.) ■ The lights are burning' dimly in the hall, The Court is moving onward, one and all : 1 see them march, according to degrees, Through long arcades and distant galleries. Now they assemble in the ample space Of the Knights' Hall ; yet hardly all find place. The breadth of walls is hiing with arras rich, And armor gleams from every nook and niche. Here,. I should think, there needs, no magic word : The ghosts wiU come, and of their own accord. 73 VOL. n. 74 FAUST. VII. HALL OF THE KNIGHTS, DIMLY LIGHTED. ( The. Emferor and Court have entered.) HERALD.*' MINE ancient office, to proclaim the action, Is by the spirits' secret influence thwarted: One tries in vain ; such wildering distraction Can't be explained, or reasonably reported. The chairs are ranged, the seats are ready all: The Emperor sits, fronting the lofty wall, Wliere on the tapestry the battles he Of the great era may with comfort see. Here now are all — Prince, Court, and their belonging. Benches on benches in the background thronging ; And lovers, too, in these dim hours enchanted. Beside their loved ones lovingly are planted. And now, since all have found convenient places, We 're ready : let the spirits show their faces j Trumpets. ASTROLOGER. Begin the Drama ! 'T is the Sire's command : Ye walls, be severed straightway, and expand ! Naught hinders ; magic answers our desire : The arras flies, as shrivelled up by fire ; The walls are split, unfolded : in the gloom A theatre appears to be created : ACT I. 75 By mystic light are we illuminated, And I ascend to the proscenium. MEPHISTOPHELES (rising to viaa in the prompter's iox). I hope to win, as prompter, general glory ; For prompting is the Devil's oratory. ( Tci the Astrologer.) Thou know'st the tune and time the stars that lead; Thou wilt my whispers like a master heed. ASTROLOGER. By power miraculous, we here behold A massive temple of the days of old. Like Atlas, who erewhile the heavens upbore, The serried columns stand, an amale store : Well may they for the weight of stone suffice. Since two might bear a mighty edifice. ARCHITECT.** That the antique ? As fine it can't be rated ; I 'd sooner style it awkward, over-weighted. Coarse is called noble, and unwieldy, grand : Give me the slender shafts that soar, expand ! To lift the mind, a pointed arch may boast ; Such architecture edifies us most. ASTROLOGER. Receive with reverence the star-granted hours ; Let magic words bind Reason's restless powers. But in return unbind, to circle free, The wings of splendid, daring Phantasy ! What you have boldly wished, see now achieved ! Impossible 't is — therefore to be believed. y6 FAUST. (Faust rises to view, on the other side of the proscenium^ In priestly surplice,, crowned, a marvellous man, He now fulfils what he in faith began. With him, a tripod from the gulf comes up : I scent the- incense-odors from the cup. He arms himself, the work to consecrate, And henceforth it can be but fortunate. FAUST {sublimely). Ye Mothers, in your name, who set your throne In boundless Space, eternally alone, And yet companioned ! All the forms of Being, In movement, lifeless, ye are round you seeing. Whate'er once was, there burns and brightens free In splendor — for 't would fain eternal be; « And ye allot it, with all-potent might, » To Day's pavilions and the vaults of Night. Life seizes some, along his gracious course ; Others arrests the bold Magician's force ; And he, bestowing as his faith inspires. Displays the Marvellous, that each desires. ASTROLOGER. The glowing key has scarcely touched the cup. And lo ! through all the space, a mist rolls up : It creeps about, and like a cloudy train. Spreads, rounding, narrowing, parting, closed again. And now, behold a spirit-masterpiece ! Music is born from every wandering fleece. The tones, of air, I know not how they flow ; Where'er they move all things melodious gi-ow. The pillared shaft, the triglyph even rings : I think, indeed, the whole bright temple sings. The vapors settle ; as the light film clears, A beauteous youth, with rhythmic step, appears, ACT T. 77 Here ends my task ; liis name I need not tell : Who dothi not: kaow the gentle Paris well ? *> tADV. O, whatr a youthful bloom and strength I see ! A SECOND. Fresh as a peach, and full of juice, is he ! A THIRD. The finely drawn, the sweetly swelling lip ! A FOURTH. From such a cup, no doubt, you 'd like to sip .' A FIFTH. He 's handsome, if a little unrefined. A SIXTH. He might be somewhat gracefuUer, to my mind. KNIGHT. The shepherd I detect ; I find him wearing No traces of the Prince, or courtly bearing. ANOTHER. O, yes ! half-naked is the youth not bad; But let us see him first in armor clad ! LADY. He seats himself, with such a gentle grace ! KNIGHT. You 'd find his lap, perchance, a pleasant place ? yS FAUST. ANOTHER. He lifts his arm so lightly o'er his head. CHAMBERLAIN. 'T is not allowed : how thoroughly ill-bred ! LADY. You lords find fault with all things evermore. CHAMBERLAIN. To stretch and yawn before the Emperor ! LADY. He only acts : he tliinks he 's quite alone. CHAMBERLAIN. Even the play should be politely shown. LADY. Now sleep falls on the graceful youth so sweetly. CHAMBERLAIN. Now will he snore : 't is natural, completely ! YOUNG LADY. Mixed with the incense-steam, what odor precious Steals to my bosom, and my heart refreshes ? OLDER LADY. Forsooth, it penetrates and warms tlie feeling ! It comes from him. OLDEST LADY. His flower of youth, unsealing, It is : Youth's fine ambrosia, ripe, unfading, The atmosphere around his form pervading. (Helena comes forward.) 79 ACT I. MEPHISTOPHELES. So, that is she ? My sleep she would not waste : She 's pretty, truly, but she 's not my taste. ASTROLOGER. There 's nothing more for me to do, I trow ; As man of honor, I confess it now. The Beauty comes, and had I tongues of fire, — So many songs did Beauty e'er inspire, — Who sees her, of his wits is dispossessed, And who possessed her was too highly blessed. .Have I still eyes ? Deep in my being springs The fount of Beauty, in a torrent pouring ! |A heavenly gain my path of terror brings. j The world was void, and shut to my exploring , — JAnd, since my priesthood, how hath it been graced ! Pnduring 't is, desirable, firm-based. 'And let my breath of being blow to waste, ilf I for thee unlearn my sacred duty ! IThe form, that long erewhile my fancy captured,5' That from the magic mirror so enraptured, Was but a frothy phantom of such beauty ! T is Thou, to whom the stir of all my forces, The essence of my passion's courses, — Love, fancy, worship, madness, — here I render ! MEPHISTOPHELES (from the box). Be calm ! — you lose your r61e, to be so tender ! OLDER LADY. Tall and well-formed ! Too small the head, alone. YOUNGER LADY. Just see her foot ! A heavier ne'er was shown. ■3o F^ '^^' •DIPLOMAXIST. Princesses X)f her Style I 've often seen: From head to foot she 's beautiful, I ween. COURTIER. She near the sleeper steals, so soft and sly. (LADY. How ugly, near that youthfvrt purity ! POET. Her beauty's light is on him like a dawn. LADY. Endymion and Luna — as they 're drawn'! POEX. Quite right ! The yielding goddess -seems to sink, And o'er him bend, his balmy breath to drink. Enviable fate — a kiss ! — the cup is full ! DUENNA. Before all people ! — that is more than cool. FAUST. A fearful favor to tlie boy ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Be still ! Suffer the shade to do whate'er.it will ! COURTIER. .She slips away, light-footed : he awakes. LADY. Juat as .1 .thoiight ! . Another.look.she Jakes. ACT I. 8-1 COURTIER. He stares : what haps, to him a marvel is. LADY. But none to her, what she before her sees ! COURTIER. She turns around to him with dignity. LADY. I see, she means to put him through his paces : All men, in such a case, act stupidly. Then, too, he thinks that first he 's won her graces. KNIGHT. Majestically fine ! — She pleases me. LADY. • The courtesan ! How very vulgar she ! PAGE. Just where he is, is where I 'd hke to be ! V COURTIER. Who would not fain be caught in such sweet meshes ? LADY. Through many a hand hath passed that jewel precious ; y The gilding, too, is for the most part gone. ANOTHER. She has been worthless from her tenth year .on. KNIGHT. Each takes the best that chance for him obtains ; I 'd be contented with thes£.fair.remains. l 4* F 82 EAUST. A LEARNED MAN. I freely own, though I distinctly see, 'T is doubtful if the genuine one she be. The Present leads us to exaggeration. And I hold fast the written, old relation. I read that, truly, ere her bloora was blighted, The Trojan gray-beards greatly she delighted. And here, methinks, it tallies perfectly : I am not young, yet she delighteth me. ASTROLOGER. No more a boy ! A bold, heroic form. He clasps her, who can scarce resist the storm. With arm grown strong he lifts her high and free : Means he to bear her off? FAUST. Rash fool, let be ! Thou dar'st? Thou hear'st not? Hold! — I '11 be obeyed. MEPHISTOPHELES. The spectral drama thou thyself hast made ! ASTROLOGER. A word more ! After all we 've seen to-day, I call the piece : The Rape of Helena.'^ FAUST. What ! Rape ? Am I for nothing here ? To stead me, Is not this key still shining in my hand ? Through realms of terror, wastes, and waves it led me, Through solitudes, to where I firmly stand. Here foothold is ! Realities here centre ! The strife with spirits here the mind may venture. And on its grand, its double lordship enter ! ACT' i: 83 How far slie was, and nearer, how divine ! I '11 rescue her, and make her doubly mine. Ye Mothers ! Mothers ! crown this wild endeavor ! Who knows her once must hold her, and forever ! ASTROLOC^ER. What art thou doing, Faust ? O, look at him ! • He seizes her : the form is growing dim. He turns the key against the youth, and, lo ! It touches him — Woe 's me ! Away now ! Woe on woe! (Exflosieit, Y KMSi lies upon the earth. The Spirits dissolve in vapor.) MEPHISTOPHELES (taking Faust upon his shoulders). You have it now ! One's self with fodls to hamper, ^ At last even on the Devil puts a damper. Darkness-. Tumult, 84 FAUST. ACT II, L^ A HIGH-ARCHED, NARROW, GOTHIC CHAM- BER, FORMERLY FAUST'S, UNCHANGED. MEPHISTOPHELES [coming forth from behind a citrtain.^'i While he holds it up and looks behind him, Faust is seen lying stretched out upon an antiquated bed), IE there, ill-starred ! seduced, unwise, To bonds that surely hold the lover! Whom Helena shall paralyze Not soon his reason wiU recover. ( Looking around Jam. ) I look about, and through the glimmer Unchanged, uninjured, all appears : The colored window-panes, methinks, are dimmer, The cobwebs have increased with years. The ink is dry, the paper old and brown. But each thing in its place I find : Even the quill is here laid down. Wherewith his compact with the Devil he signed. Yea, deeper in, the barrel 's red With trace of blood I coaxed him then to shed. A thing so totally unique The great collectors would go far to seek. ACT II. "^ Half from its hook the old fur-robe is falling, That ancient joke of mine recalling, How once I taught the boy such truth As still, it may be, nourishes the youth. The wish returns, with zest acuter, Aided by thee, thou rough disguise. Once more to take on airs as college tutor, As one infaUible in one's own eyes. The savans this assurance know : The Devil Tost it, long ago ! (He shakes the fur which he has taken down : moths, crickets, and beetles fly out.) CHORUS OF INSECTS. Welcome, and hail to thee ! Patron, "to-day : We 're flying and humgiing, We hear and obey. Singly and silently Us thou hast sown ; Hither, by thousands, Father, we 've flown. The imp in the bosom Is snugly concealed ; But lice in the fur-coat Are sooner revealed. MEPHISTOPHELES. What glad surprise I feel, from this young life bestowed ' One reaps in time, if one has only sowed. Once more I '11 shake the ancient fleeces out : Still here and there a chance one flies about. — Off, and around ! in hundred thousand nooks Hasten to hide yourselves — among the books, There, in the pasteboard's wonny holes, _ . ^, FAWST. Here, in the smoky parchment scrolls, In dusty jars, that broken lie, And yonder skull with empty eye. In all this trash and mould unmatched. Crotchets forever must be hatched.s* [^He puts on the fur-mantle.') Come, once again upon my shoulders fall ! Once more am I the Principal. But 't is no good to ape the college; , For where are those who will my claim acknowledge ? (He pulls the hell, xuhick gives out a shrill, penetrating sound, causing the halls to tremble and the doors to fly open.) FAMULUS [tottering hither doxan the long, dark gallery). What a sound ! What dreadful quaking ! Stairs are rocking, walls are shaking ; Through the colored windows brightening I behold the sudden lightning; Floors above me crack and rumble,. Lime and lumber round me tumble, And the door, securely bolted. Is by magic force unfolded. — There ! How terrible ! a Giant Stands in Faust's old fur, defiant ! As he looks, and beckons thither, I could fall, my senses wither. Shall I fly, or shall I wait? What, O what shall be my fate ! MEPHISTOPHELES (beckoning). Come hither. Friend ! Your name is Nicodemus. FAMULUS. Most honored Sir, such ie. my ^ame — OremusJ ACT II. MEPHISTOPHELES. Dispense with that ! 87 FAMULUS. O joy ! you know me yet. MEPHISTOPHELES. Old, and a student still, — I don't forget, Most mossy Sir ! Also a learned man Continues study, since naught else he can. 'T is thus one builds a moderate house of cards ; The greatest minds ne'er end them, afterwards. Your master is a skilful fellow, though : The noble Doctor Wagner all must know. The first in all the learned world is he, Who now together holds it potently, Wisdom increasing, daily making clearer. How thirst for knowledge listener and hearer! A mighty crowd around him flocks. None for the rostrum e'er were meeter: The keys he holds as doth Saint Peter, The Under and the Upper he unlocks. His light above all others sparkles surer, No name or fame beside him Uves : Even that of Faust has grown obscurer ; 'T is he alone invents and gives. FAMULUS. Pardon, most honored Sir ! if I am daring To contradict you, in declaring All that upon the subject has no bearing; For modesty is his allotted part. The incomprehensible disappearing Of that great man to him is most uncheering; From his return he hopes new strength and joy of heart. 88 FAUST. As in the days of Doctor Faust, the room, Since he 's away, all things unchanged, Waits for its master, long estranged. To venture in, I scarce presume. — What stars must govern now the skies ! It seemed as if the basements quivered; The door-posts trembled, bolts were shivered : You had not entered, otherwise. MEPHISTOPHELES. Where may his present dwelling be ? Lead me to him ! Bring him to me ! FAMULUS. His prohibition is so keen ! I do not dare to intervene. For months, his time unto the great work giving. In most secluded silence he is living. The daintiest of distinguished learners, His face is like a charcoal-burner's, From nose to ears all black and deadened ; His eyes from blowing flames are reddened : Thus he, each moment, pants and longs, And music make the clattering tongs. MEPHISTOPHELES. An entrance why should he deny me ? I '11 expedite' his luck, if he '11 but try me ! ( The Famulus goes off: Mephistopheles seats himself wi.h gra-jity.) Scarce have I taken my position here,' When there, behind, I see a guest appear. I know him ; he is of the school new-founded, And his presumption will be quite unbounded. ACT II. BACCALAUREUSS5 (storming along the corridor). Doors and entrances are open ! Well, — at last there 's ground for hoping That no more, in mouldy lumber, Death-lilce, doth the Living slumber, To himself privations giving, Till he dies of very living ! All this masonry, 1 'm thinking, To its overthrow is sinking ; And, unless at once we hurry, Us will crash and ruin bury. Daring though I be, 't were murther Should I dare to venture further. What is that I see before me ? Here, (what years have since jjpUed o'er me !) Shy and unsophisticated, I as honest freshman waited ; Here I let the gray-beards guide me. Here their babble edified me ! Out of dry old volumes preaching, What they knew, they Hed in teaching ; What they knew, themselves believed not. Stealing life, that years retrieved not. What ! — in yonder cell benighted One still sits, obscurely lighted ! Nearer now, I see, astounded, Still he sits, with furs surrounded, — Truly, as I saw him last, Roughest fleeces round him cast ! Then adroit he seemed to be, Not yet understood by me : 89 ,50 PAUST. But to-day 't will naught avail him— . O, I '11 neither fear nor fail him ! If, ancient Sir, that bald head, sidewards beading. Hath not been dipped in Lethe's river cold, See, hitherward, your grateful scholar wending, Outgrown the academic rods of old. You 're here, as then when I began ; But / am now another man. MEPHISTOPHELES. I 'm glad my bell your visit brought me. Your talents, then, I rated high ; The worm, the chrysalid soon taught me The future brilliant butterfly. Your curly locks and ruffle-laces A childish pleasure gave ; you wooed the graces. A queue, I think, you 've never worn ? But now your head is cropped and shorn. Quite bold and resolute you appear. But don't go, absolute, home from here ! ^ BACCALAUREUS. Old master, in your old place leaning, Thinlcliow the time has sped, the while ! Spare me your words of double meaning'! We take them now in quite another style. Y'ou teased and vexed the honest youth ; You found it easy then, in truth, To do what no one dares, to-day. MEPHISTOPHELES. If to the young the simple truth we say, The green ones find it nowise pleasant play; But afterwards, wh«n "years are over, ACT II. gi And they the truth through their own hide discover, Then they conceive, themselves have found it out : " The master was a fool ! " one hears them shout. BACCALAUREUS. A rogue, perhaps ! What teacher will declare The truth to us, exactly fair and square ? Each knows the way to lessen or exceed it, Now stern, now lively, as the children need it. MEPHISTOPHELES. Beyond a doubt, there is a time to learn ; But you are skilled to teach, I now discern. Since many a moon, some circles of the sun, The riches of experience you have won. BACCALAUREUS. Experience ! mist and froth alone ! , Nor with the mind at all coequal : Confess, what one has always known Is not worth knowing, in the sequel ! MEPHISTOPHELES {after a fause). It 's long seemed so to me. I was a fool: My shallowness I now must ridicule. BACCALAUREUS. I 'm glad of that ! I hear some reason yet— » The first old man of sense I ever met ! MEPHISTOPHELES. I sought for hidden treasures, grand and golden, And hideous coals and ashes were my share. BACCALAUREUS. Confess that now your skull, though bald and olden, v Is worth no more than is yon empty, there ! 92 FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES {^amiably). Know'st thou, my friend, how rude thou art to me ? BACCALAUREUS. One lies, in German, would one courteous be. MEPHISTOPHELES {wheeling his chair still nearer to the prcsceniiim, to the spec- tators). Up here am I deprived of light and air : Shall I find .shelter down among you there ? BACCALAUREUS. It is presumptuous, that one will try Still to be something, when the time 's gone by. Man's life lives in his blood, and where, in sooth. So stirs the blood as in the veins of youth .' There living blood in freshest power pulsates, And newer life from its own life creates. Then something 's done, then moves and works the man ; The weak fall out, the sturdy take the van. While half the world beneath our yoke is brought. What, then, have you accomplished ? Nodded — thought — Dreamed, and considered — plan, and always plan! Age is an ague-fever, it is clear. With chills of moody want and dread ; I When one has passed his thirtieth year, \ One then is just the same as dead.57 'T were best, betimes, to put you out o' the way. MEPHISTOPHELES. The Devil, here, has nothing more to say. BACCALAUREUS. Save through my will, no Devil can there be. Acr II. 93 MEPHISTOPHELES (aside). The Devil, though, will trip thee presently ! BACCALAUREUS. This is Youth's noblest calling and most fit ! The world was not, ere I created it ; The sun I drew from out the orient sea ; The moon began her changeful course with me ; The Day put on his shining robes, to greet me ; The Earth grew green, and burst in flower to meet me, And when I beckoned, from the primal night The stars unveiled their splendors to my sight. Who, save myself, to you deliverance brought From commonplaces of restricted thought ? I, proud and free, even as dictates my mind. Follow with joy the inward light I find. And speed along, in mine own ecstasj^ Darkness behind, the Glory leading me ! \_Exit. MEPHISTOPHELES. Go hence, magnificent Original ! — What grief on thee would insight cast! Who can think wise or stupid things at all. That were not thought already in the Past?s' Yet even from him we 're not in special peril ; He will, erelong, to other thoughts incline : The must may foam absurdly in the barrel, Nathless it turns at last to wine. (To the yoimger parterre, which does not applaud.) My words, I see, have left you cold ; For you, my children, it may fall so : Consider now, the Devil 's old ; To understand him, be old also 1 ^4 ji'Ausr. II. LABORATORY. After the manner of the 'Middle Ages ; extensive, ponderou apparatus for fantastic purposes. WAGNER {at the furmm^). THE loud bell chimes with fearful clangor, The socrty walls feel the vibratioH; Soon must the long suspense be ended Of my most earnest expectation. It shines, the darknesses are remded : Within the phial's inmost chamber It gleams, as doth a living ember, — • Yea, a carbuncle, burning, bright'ning, It rays the darkness with its lightning. Now white and clear the lustres blend ! O that I hold, nor lose it more ! Ah, God! what rattles at the door? MEPHISTOFHELES (oitetmg). Welcome ! -I mean it as a friend. WAGNER (anxiously). Be welcome to the planet of the hour ! { Whispering. ) Yet breath and speech suspend ! A work of power, A splendid work, iwiH soon be here displayed. MEPHISTOFHELES {whispering). What is it, then ? 4cr //. 9S WAGNER (whhpering)- A man is being made- MEPHISTOPHELES. A man ? And what enamored pair Have you within the chimney hidden? WAGNER. Nay, God forbid ! This procreation is most rare : Of the old, senseless mode we 're now well ridden. The tender point, wTience Life commenced its course, The outward stress of gracious inward force, Which took and gave, itself delineating, First near, then foreign traits assimilating. We now of all its dignity divest : The beast therein may further find a zest. But Man must learn, with his great ^ts, to win Henceforth apurer, loftier origin. ( Turning towards the furnace.) It brightens, — see ! Sure, now, my hopes increase That if, from many hundred substances, Through mixture — since on mixture all depends — The human substance gently be compounded, And by a closed retort surrounded. Distilled, and fed, and slowly founded, Then in success the secret labor ends. (Again turning towards ike furnace.) 'T will be ! the mass is working clearer ! Conviction gathers, truer, nearer ! The mystery which for Man in Nature lies We dare to test, by knowledge led ; And that which she was wont to organize We crystalliisq, instead. 96 FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. Who lives, learns many secrets to unravel ; For him, upon this earth, there 's nothing new can be: I 've seen already, in my years of travel, Much crystallized humanity. (lip to this time contimimisly attentive to the phial). It mounts, it lightens, grows, — 't is won ! A moment more, and it is done ! Insane, at first, appears a great intent ; We yet shall laugh at chance in generation ; A brain like this, for genuine thinking meant, Will henceforth be a thinker's sure creation. (Rapturously inspecting the phial.) The glass vibrates with sweet and powerful tone ; It darkens; clears : it 7mist arrive at being ! And now in delicate shape is shown A pretty manikin, moving, living, seeing! What more can we, what more the world demand? The secret, solved, all men may reach : Hark ! as the ringing tones expand, They form a voice, result in speech. HOMUNCULUSSS (in the phial, to Wagner). How goes it, Daddy ? It was then no jest ! Come, press me tenderly upon thy breast ! But not too hard, for fear the glass might shatter ! This is the quality of matter: For what is natural, scarce the world has place ; What 's artificial, needs restricted space. [To MEPHISTOPHELES.) Thou rogue, Sir Cousin ! here I find thee, too ? ACT II. gy And at tlie proper time ! My thanks are due : A lucky fortune led thee here to me ; Since I exist, then I must active be. I 'd fain begin ray work without delay : Thou art adroit in shortening my way. WAGKER. But first, a word ! I 'm shamed that answers fail me ; For old and young with problems so assail me. Now, for example, none e'er comprehended How soul and body wedded are and blended, — Hold fast, as if defying separation. Yet never cease their mutual irritation. Therefore — MEPHISTOPHELES. Desist ! I 'd rather ask him why The man and wife agree so wretchedly. To thee, my friend, the thing will ne'er be clear : There 's work to do : for that the little fellow 's here. I-IOMUNCULUS. What 's to be done ? MEPHISTOPHELES (pointing to a side-door). Thy talents here employ ! WAGNER (still gasing at the phial) . Forsooth, thou art the very loveliest boy ! ( The side-door opens : FAUSr is seen stretched out upon a couch.) HOMUXCULUS (astonished). Significant ! — ( The phial slips out o/Wacner's hands, hovers aver Faust, and shines npon him.) Fair scenery ! ^ — Waters, mpying VOL. II. S G 98 FAUST. In forest shadows : women there, undressing, The loveliest forms ! — the picture is improving. One, marlced by beauty, splendidly expressing Descent from Gods or high heroic races. Now dips her foot in the translucent shimmer : The living flame of her sweet form displaces The yielding crystal, cool around the swimmer. But what a sound of wings ! What rapid dashing Across the glassy pool, what fluttering, splashing ! The maidens fly, alarmed ; but only she. The queen, looks on, composed and terror-free, And sees with proud and womanly delight The swan-prince press her knee with plumage white, Importunately tame : he grows acquainted. — But all at once floats up a vapor pale, And covers with its closely-woven veil The loveliest picture ever dreamed or painted. MEPHISTOPHELES. How much hast thou to tell, — what stories merry ! So small thou art, so great a visionary ! Nothing see I ! — HOMUNCULUS. Of course. Thou, from the North, And in the age of mist brought forth, In knighthood's and in priestcraft's murky den, How should thy sight be clearer, then ? In gloom alorie art thou at home. ( Gazing around. ) Brown masonry, repellent, crumbling slowly, Arch-pointed, finical, fantastic, lowly ! — If this man wakes, another danger 's nigh ; At once upon the spot he 'II die. Wood-fountains, swans, and nalced beauties. ACT II. 99 Such was his dream of presage fair : How should these dark surroundings suit his Desires, when them / scarce can bear ? Away with him ! MEPHISTOPHELES. 1 hail the issue's chances. HOMUNCULUS. Commaiid the warrior to the fight, Conduct the maiden to the dances. And all is finished, as is right. Just now — there breaks on me a light — 'T is Classical Walputgis-Night ; Whate'er may come, it is the best event, So bring him to his proper element ! MEPHISTOPHELES. ■ The like of that I never heard one mention. HOMUNCULUS. How should it have attracted your attention ? Only romantic ghosts are known to you; A genuine phantom must be classic too. MEPHISTOPHELES. But whitherward shall then we travel, tell me ! Your antique cronies in advance repel me. HOMUNXULUS. Northwestwards, Satan, is thy park and pale, But we, this time, southeastwards sail. Peneus, there, the great plain wanders through. By thickets, groves, and silent coves, and meadow grasses ; oo FAUST. The level stretches to the mountain passes, And o'er it lies Pharsalus, old and new. MEPHISTOPI-IELES. Alas ! have done ! Bring not that fell collision Of tyrant and of slave before my vision ! I 'm tired of that : for scarcely is it done ^ Than they the same thing have again begun ; ' And no one marks that he 's the puppet blind / ' Of sly Asmodi, lurking there behind. They fight, we 're told, their freedom's right to save ; But, clearlier seen, 't is slave that fights with slave.^' HOMUNCULUS. Leave imto men their fractiousness and clatter : Each must protect himself, as best he can, From boyhood up, and thus becomes a man. How this one shall recover, is our matter. Hast thou a method, let it tested be ! But hast thou none, so leave the case to me ! MEPHISTOPHELES. There 's many a Brocken-method I might try, But pagan bolts, I find, the way deny. The Grecian race was little worth, alway ; It dazzles with the senses' freer play, To cheerful sins the heart of man entices ; While ours are ever counted gloomy vices. Now, what shall be ? HOMUNCULUS. Shyness was ne'er thy blame. When I to thee Thessalian witches name, I 've not said nothing, that I know. ACT II. IC MEPHISTOPHELES [lustfully). Thessaliaii witches ! Well ! The persons, those, Whom I inquired for, long ago. Night after night beside them to repose, I think would hardly suit : but so, A mere espial, trial, — HOMUNCULUS. Here ! cast o'er The knight your magic mantle, and infold him ! The rag will still, as heretofore. Upon his airy course — and thine — uphold him. I '11 light the way. WAGNER {anxiously). And I? HOMUNCULUS. Eh? You Will stay at home, most weighty work to do. Unfold your ancient parchments, and collect i Life's elements as your recipes direct, I One to the other with due caution fitting. The What consider, more the How and Why ! j Meanwhile, about the world at random flitting, I may detect the dot upon the " !."*= The lofty aim will then accomplished be ; Such an endeavor merits such requital: Gold, honor, glory, healthy forces vital. And science, too, and virtue, — possibly. Farewell ! WAGNER (sorrmiifully). Farewell ! It doth depress my heart : I fear, already, we forever part. I02 FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. Down to Peneus, with his aid ! Sir Cousin is a deft attendant. {Ad sfcctittorcs.) Upon the creatures we have made We are, ourselves, at last, dependentl°3 ACT IT. 103 III. CLASSICAL WALPURGIS-NIGHT.«* L THE PHARSALIAN FIELDS. Darkness, * ERICHTHO. 'T~'0 this night's awfu\ festival, as oft before, ^ I enter here, Erichtho, I, the gloomy one : Not so atrocious as the evil jjoets draw, In most superfluous slander — for they never cease Their blame or praises . . . Over-whitened I behold The vale, with waves of tents that glimmer gray afar, The after-vision of that fatal, fearful night. How oft is it repeated ! — will forever be Forever re-enacted ! No one grants the realm Unto another : unto him whose might achieved And rules it, none ; for each, incompetent to rule His own internal self, is all too fain to sway His neighbor's will, even as his haughty mind inclines. But here a lesson grand was' battled to the end. How force resists and grapples with the greater force, The lovely, thousand-blossomed wreath of Freedom rends, And bends the stubborn laurel round the Ruler's brow. Here, of his days of early greatness Pompey dreamed: Before the trembling balance Caesar yonder watched ! It will be weighed: the.wgtid lsju>;ivs untowljom it turned. I04 FAUST. The watch-fires flash and glow, spendthrift of niddy flame ; Reflections of the squandered blood the earth cxiiales, And, lured by rare and marvellous splendor of the night, The legion of Hellenic legends gathers here. Round all the fires uncertain hover, or at ease Sit near them, fabulous forms of ancient days. . . . The moon, imperfect, truly, but of clearest beam, Arises, scattering mellow radiance everywhere : Vanish the phantom tents, the fires are burning blue. But o'er my head what unexpected meteor ! It shines, illuminates the sphere of earth below. I scent the Living ! therefore it becomes me not Them to approach, I being harmful unto them : An evil name it brings me, and it profits naught. Already now it sinks : discreetly I withdraw. The Ally Travellers above. HOMUNCULUS. Once again the circle follow, O'er the flames and horrors hover ! Ghostly 't is in vale and hollow, Spectral all that we discover. MEPHISTOPHELES. If, as through my window nightly In the grewsome North, I see Spectres hideous and unsightly, Here is home, as there, to me. HOMUXCULUS. See! a tall one there is stridinff o On before us, in the shade [Exit. ACT II. MEPHISTOPHELES. Through the air she saw us gliding, And it seems she is afraid. HOMUNCULUS. Let her stride ! The knight be taken Now, and set upon the strand : Here to hfe again he '11 waken, Seeking it in fable-land. FAUST (as he touches the earth). Where is she 1 — '' HOMUNCULUS. It 's more than we can tell. But to inquire would here be well. Thou 'rt free to hasten, ere the day, From flame to flame, and seek her so : Who to the Mothers found his way, Has nothing more to undergo. MEPHISTOPHELES. I also claim my share in the excursion ; Yet know no better plan for our diversion, Than that each one, amid these fires, Should seek such fortunes as he most desires. Then, as a sign to reunite us. Let, little one, thy lantern sound -and light us ! HOMUNCULUS. Thus' shall it shine, and thus shall ring! ( The glass shines and rings powerfully.) And now, away to many a marvellous thing 1 — 105 I06 FAUST. FAUST (soliis). Where is she ? -— But no further question make ! If this were not the soil that bore lier feet, If not the wave that to her coming beat, Yet 't is the air that knows the tongue she spake. Here, by a marvel ! Here, on Grecian land! 's I felt at once the earth whereon I stand. Through me, the sleeper, fresher spirit stealing, I rise refreshed, Antxus in my feeling. Together here I find the strangest store ; Let me this labyrinth of flames explore. \Gogi. away. MEPHISTOPHELES (prying around). And as among these fires I wander, aimless, I find myself so strange, so disconcerted:^ Quite naked most, a few are only shirted ; The Griffins insolent, the Sphinxes shanieless, And what not ail, with pinions and with tresses, Before, behind, upon one's eyesight presses ! — Indecency, 't is true, is our ideal. But the Antique is too alive and real ; One must with modern thought the thing bemaster. And in the fashion variously o'erplaster:' — Disgusting race ! Yet I, perforce, must meet them. And as new guest with due decorum greet them. — Hail, then, Fair Ladies ! Graybeards wise, good cheer ! GRIFFIN (snarling. Not graybeards ! Graybeards ? No one likes to hear One call him gray. For in each word there rings The source, wherefrom its derivation springs.'' Gray, growling, grewsome, grinning, graves, and grimly Etymologically accordj nor dimly, And niake us griia. ACT II. 107 MEPHISTOPHELES. And yet, why need you stiffen ? You like the^^in your proud title, " Griffin." GRIFFIN ((W above^ and continuously so). Of course ! for this relation is found fit ; Though often censured, oftener praised was it. Let one but grip at maidens, crowns, and gold : Fortune is gracious to the Griper bold. ANTS (of the colossal kind). You speak of gold, much had ourselves collected ; In rocks and caverns secretly we trapped it: The Arimaspean race our store detected, — They 're laughing now, so far away thej 've snapped it THE GRIFFINS. We soon shall force them to confess. THE ARIMASPEANS.^ But not in this free night of jubilee. Before the morrow, all will squandered be ; This time our efforts will obtain success. MEPHISTOPHELES (who has seated himself between the SPHINXES^ How soon I feel familiar here, among you ! I understand you, one and all. Our spirit-tones, when we have sung you. Become, for you, material. Now name thyself, till we shall know thee better. Io8 FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. With many names would men my nature fetter. Are Britons here ? So round the world they wheel, To stare at battle-fields, historic traces. Cascades, old walls, and classic dreary places ; And here were something worthy of their zeal. Their Old Plays also testify of me ; Men saw me there as " Old Iniquity." SPHINX. How did they hit on that ? MEPHISTOPHELES. I know not, verily. SPHINX. Perhaps ! Hast thou in star-lore any power ? What say'st thou of the aspects of the hour ? MEPHISTOPHELES [looking up'). Star shoots on star, the cloven moon doth ride In brilliance ; in this place I 'm satisfied : I warm myself against thy lion's hide. It were a loss to rise from out these shades : — Propose enigmas, or at least charades ! Express thyself, and 't will a riddle be."' Try once thine own analysis : 't were merry. " To both Devout and Wicked necessary : To those, a breast-plate for ascetic fighting ; To these, boon-comrade, in their pranks uniting ; And both amusing Zeus, the fun-delighting." ACT II. FIRST GRIFFIN (^snarling). 109 I like not him ! SECOND GRIFFIN [snarling more gruffly). What will the fellow here ? BOTH. The Nasty One is not of us, 't is clear ! MEPHISTOPHELES [brutally). Think'st thou, perhaps, tliy guest has nails to scratch, That with thy sharper talons cannot match ? Just try it once ! SPHINX [gently). Stay, shouldst thou find it well ; But from our ranks thou wilt thyself eapel. In thine own land thou 'rt wont thyself to pamper. Yet here, I think, thy spirits feel a damper. MEPHISTOPHELES. Thine upper part entices ; naught is fairer ; But, further down, the beast excites my terror. SPHINX. Bitter, False one, will be thy expiation ; Our claws are sound and worthy proof, But thou, with withered horse's-hoof, Art ill at ease in our association. [The SlK'E.ns p-elude aiove.\ MEPHISTOPHELES. On yonder poplars by the river, Whit are the birds that swing above? iio MUST. SPHINX. Beware ! The very best that ever Existed, they have lured to love. SIRENS.'" Ah, why vitiate your senses, Where those Uglinesses darken ? We, in crowds, come hither : hearken How the accordant strain commences, Meet for Sirens' soft pretences ! SPHINXES ' [mocking them, in the same melody). Let them to descend be bidden ! In the branches they have hidden Hideous falcon-claws they 're wearing, And you '11 feel their cruel tearing, Once you lend them willing ear. SIRENS. Banish hate and envy, rather! We the purest pleasures gather. Under Heaven's auspicious sphere ! On the earth and on the ocean, We, with cheerful beckoning motion, Bid the wanderer welcome here. MEPHISTOPHELES. These are of novelties the neatest. Where from the throat and harp-string sweetest The tones around each other twine. They 're lost on me, these tinkling trickles ; The sound my ear-drum pats and tickles, But cannot reach this heart of mine. ACT II. SPHINXES. Speak not of heart ! Fool, so to call it ! An old and wrinkled leathern wallet Would better suit that face of thine. FAUST {approaching). How strange ! I, satisfied, behold these creatures, ■ In the Repulsive, grand and solid features : ?' A fate propitious I behold advance. Whither transports me now this solemn glance ? (Pointing to the Sphinxes.) Once before these took GEdipus his stand: (Pointing to the SiKENS.) These made Ulysses writhe in hempen band : (Pointingto the Ants.) By these the highest treasure was anwssed : (Pointing to the Griffins. ) By these 't was held inviolate and fast : Fresh spirit fills me, face to face wjth these — Grand are the Forms, and grand the Memories ! MEPHISTOPHELES. Once thou hadst cursed such crude antiques, But now, it seems, they 've comfort given ; For when a man his sweetheart seeks. Welcome to him are monsters, even. FAUST (to the Sphinxes). Ye woman-forms, give ear, and say Hath one of you seen Helena ? SPHINXES. Before her day our line expired in Greece ; Our very last was slain by Hercules : , FAUST. Yet ask of Chiron, if thou please. He gallops round throughout this ghostly night, And if he halt for thee, thy chance is bright. Si'RENS. Thou art not to failure fated ! How Ulysses, lingering, learned us. Nor, regardless passing,-spurned us. Manifold hath he narrated : All to thee shall be confided, Seekest thou our meads, divided By the dark-green arms of Ocean. Let not thyself thus cheated be ! Not like Ulysses bound, — but we Will with good counsel thee environ : If thou canst find the noble Chiron, Thou 'It learn what I have promised thee. [Faust goes away, MEPHISTOPHELES [Ul-temperedly). What croaks and flaps of wings go past ! One cannot see, they fly so fast, In single file, from first to last : A hunter would grow tired of these. The storm-wind like, that winter harrows. Reached hardly by Alcides' arrows, They are the swift Stymphalides ; And not ill-meant their greetings creak. With goose's foot and vulture's beak. They fain would join us in our places. And show themselves as kindred races. ACT II. 113 MEPHISTOPHELES (as if intimidated). Some other brute is hissing shrill. SPHINX. Be not afraid, though harsh the paean ! They are the hydra-heads, the old Lernaean, . Cut from the trunk, yet think they 're something stilL But say, what means your air distressed ? Why show your gestures such unrest ? Where will you go ? Then take your leave ! That chorus, there, I now perceive. Turns like a weathercock your neck. Advance ! — Greet as you will each lovely countenance ! They are the Lamise, wenches vile. With brazen brows and lips that smile, Such as the satyr-folk have found so fair; A cloven foot may venture all things' there. MEPHISTOPHELES. But stay you here, that I again may find you ? SPHINX. Yes ! Join the airy rabble, there behind you ! From Egypt we, long since, with all our peers, Accustomed were to reign a thousand years. If for our place your reverence be won. We rule for you the days of iWoon and Sun. We sit before the Pyramids For the judgment of the Races, Inundation, War, and Peace, — With eternal changeless faces. ,14 FAUST. II. PENEUS (surrounded with Nymphs and Tributary Streams). PENEUS.?^ STIR yourselves, ye whispering rushes, Rustle, slender willow-bushes. Sister reeds, breathe softer, crisper. Trembling poplar-branches, whisper To the interrupted dream ! Fearful premonitions wake me, Secret shudders thrill and shake me In my rippling, sleeping stream. FAUST {advancing to the river). Here, behind the vines that dangle O'er the thicket's bowery tangle, If I heard aright, were noises Similar to human voices. Babbling seemed the wave to patter, And the breeze in sport to chatter. NYMPHS {to Faust). For thee were it better To lie here, reviving In coolness thy body, Outwearied with striving, — The rest, that eludes thee. To taste, and be free : We '11 rustle and murmur. And whisper to thee. ACT 11. IIS FAUST. I am awake ! Let them delay me, The incomparable Forms ! — and sway me, As yonder to my sight confessed ! How strangely am I moved, how nearly ! Are they but dreams ? or memories, merely ? Already once was I so blest. Beneath the swaying bushes hiding. The full, fresh waves are softly gliding ; They scarcely rustle on their path : A hundred founts from all sides hasten. To fill a pure and sparkling basin. The hollowed level of a bath. The fair young limbs of women trouble The watery glass that makes them double. And doubles, thus, the eye's delight : In joyous bath each other aiding, Or boldly swimming, shyly wading, Then cry, and splash, and foamy fight. It were enough, the picture viewing, — My healthy eyesight here renewing, — Yet I desire the still unseen. My gaze would pierce through yonder cover, Whose leafy wealth is folded over The vision of the stately Queen. Strange ! across the crystal skimming, From the coves the swans are swimming, Moving in majestic state : Floating calmly and united. But how proud and self-delighted, ■ Head and ncTck they lift elate ! . . . One, his feathers proudly pluming, Boldly on his grace presuming. Leads the others in the race ; 1,6 FAUST. With his whitest plumage showing Wave-like on the wave he 's throwing, Speeds he to the sacred place. . . . The others back and forth together Swim on with smoothly shining feather-, And soon, in mimic battle met. Shall chase aside the maids affrighted, Till, for their own protection slighted, Their bounden service they forget. NYMPHS. Sisters, bend and lay the ear On the turf beside the river ! Sound of hoofs, if right I hear. Swift approaching, seems to shiver. Would I knew whose rapid flight Brings a message to the Night ! FAUST. As I think, the earth is ringing From a charger, hither springing. See there ! See there ! A fortune comes, most fair : Shall I attain its blessing ? O, marvel past expressing ! A rider trots towards us free : Spirit and strength in him I see, — Upon a snow-white steed careering. . . . I know him now, I hail with awe The famous son of Philyra ! — Halt, Chiron, halt ! I 've something for thy hearing. CHIRON.ra What then ? What is it ? 117 ACT II. FAUST. Thy course delay ! CHIRON. I rest not. FAUST. Take me with thee, then, I pray ! CHIRON. Mount ! and I thus can ask, at leisure, Whither thy way. ThcjU standest on the shore ; I '11 bear thee through tfi^ flood, with pleasure. \ FAUST {jhpunting). Whither thou wilt. I thank thee evermore. . . . The mighty man, the pedagogue, whose place And fame it was, to teach a hero-rac^ — The splendid circle of the Argonauts, And all whose deeds made qui»k the Poet's thoughts. We will not further speak of these ! As Mentor even Pallas is not venerated ; And, after all, they manage as they please, As if they 'd not been educated. FAUST. The leech, who knoweth flower and fruit. Whose lore can sound the deepest root, — Who heals the sick, and soothes the wounded place, Him, here, in mind ar(d body I embrace ! CHIRON. When heroes, near me, felt the smart. My helpful knowledge failed them seldom ; Il8 FAUST. But, at the last, I left mine art To priest and simple-gathering beldam. FAUST. Thy speech the true great man betrays, Who cannot hear a word of praise ; His modesty would fain confound uf. To think his equals still were round us. CHIRON. Thou seemest skilled to feign such matter — People and Prince alike to flatter. FAUST. But surely thou wilt grant to me That thou the greatest of thy time didst see, Upon their paths of proud achievement trod, And lived thy days, a serious demigod. Among those grand, heroic forms of old, Whom didst thou for the best and worthiest hold ? CHIRON. Of those beneath the Argonauts' bright banner. Each worthy was in his peculiar manner. And by the virtue of his strength selective Sufficed therein, where others were defective. Castor and Pollux were as victors hailed, Where beauty and the grace of youth prevailed : Decision, the swift deed for others' aid. Gave the fair crown before the Boreads laid : Reflective, prudent, strong, in council wise, So Jason ruled, delight of women's eyes : Then Orpheus, gentle, silent, brooding, lowering. But when he struck the lyre, all-overpowering. Sharp-sighted Lynceus, who by day and dark ACT II. 119 Through shoreward breakers steered the sacred bark. Danger is best endured where men are brothers ; When one achieves, then praise him all the others. FAUST. But Hercules thy speech is wronging — CHIRON. Ah, me ! awaken not my longing ! . . . I had not seen, in Fields Elysian, How Phoebus, Ares, Hermes, shine ; But there arose before my vision A form that all men called divine. A king by birth, as ne'er another, A youth magnificent to view ; Though subject to his elder brother, And to the loveliest women, too. No second such hath Gaea grantedj^* Or Hebe led to Heaven again ; For him the songs are vainly chanted. The marble hewn for him in vain. FAUST. Though ever to his form addicted, His grace the sculptors could not wreak. The fairest Man hast thou depicted. Now of the fairest Woman speak ! CHIRON. What ! — Little worth is woman's beauty, So oft an image dumb we see : I only praise, in loving duty, A being bright and full of glee. For Beauty iji herself delighteth ; And irresistibly she sraiteth 20 FAUST. When sweetly she with Grace uniteth, Like Helena, when her I bore. FAUST. Her didst thou bear ? CHIRON. This back she pressed. FAUST. Was I not wild enough, before ? And now such seat, to make me blest ! CHIRON. Just so she grasped me by the hair As thou dost. FAUSt. O, I scarcely dare To trust my senses ! — tell me more ! She is my only aspiration ! Whence didst thou bear her — to what shore ? CHIRON. Not difficult is the relation. 'T was then, when came the Dioscuri bold To free their sister from the robbers' hold ; But these, accustomed not to be subdued. Regained their courage and in rage pursued. The swamps below Eleusis did impede The brothers' and the sister's flying speed : The brothers waded : splashing through the reed, I swam : then off she sprang, and pressing me On the wet mane, caressing me, She thanked with sweetly-wise and conscious tongue, How charming was she ! — dear to age, so young ! ACT II. 12 FAUST. But sevpn years old ! — CHIRON. Philologists, I see, Even as they cheat themselves, have cheated thee. 'T is curious with your mythologic dame : " The Poet takes her when he needs her name ; She grows not old, stays ever young and warm, And of the most enticing form ; Seduced in youth, in age enamoring still, — Enough ! no time can bind the Poet's will. FAUST. Then let no bonds of Time be thrown around her ! Even as on Pheras's isle Achilles found her, Beyond the bounds of Time. What blessing rare, In spite of Fate such love to win and wear ! And shall not I, by mightiest desire, Unto my life that sole fair form acquire, That shape eternal, peer of Gods above, Tender as grand, sublime as sweet with love ? Thou saw'st her once ; to-day I saw her beam, The dream of Beauty, beautiful as Dream ! My soul, my being, now is' bound and chained ; I cannot live, unless she be attained. Thou, Stranger ! feel'st, as man, such ecstasy ; Among us, Spirits, mad thou seem'st to be. Yet, as it haps, thy fortune now is omened ; For every year, though only for a moment, It is my wont to call at Manto's dwelling, — ■ She, Esculapius' child, whose prayers are swelling Unto her father, that, his fame to brighten, VOL. II. 6 22 FAUSr. The brains of doctors he at last enlighten, A/^ And them from rashly dealing death may frighten. / I like her best of all the guild of Sibyls, — Helpful and kind, with no fantastic fribbles ; She hath the art. if thou the time canst borrow, With roots of power to give thee healing thojyaugh. But I will not be healed ! my aim is mighty : I will not be, like others, meanly flighty! CHIRON. The noble fountain's cure neglect thou not : But quick dismount ! We 've reached the spot. FAUST. And whither, in this dreary night, hast thou To land through pebbly rivers brought me now ? CHIRON. Here Rome and Greece in battle tried their powers ; Here flows Peneus, there Olympus towers, — The greatest realm that e'er was lost in sand. The monarch flies, the conquering burghers stand. Look up and see, in moonlight shining clear, The memorable, eternal Temple near ! MANTO '* (dreaming mithin). From horse-hoofs tremble The sacred steps of the Temple ! The Demigods draw near. CHIRON. Quite right ! Open, your eyes, and see who 's here ! ACT 11. 123 MANTO [awaking-). « VWelcome ! Thou dost not fail, I see. CHIRON. And still thy temple stands for thee ! MANTO. And speedest thou still unremitting ? CHIRON. And thou in peaceful calm art sitting, While I rejoice in restless heels ? MANTO. I wait, and Time around me wheels. And he ? CHIRON. The vortex of this night Hath whirled him hither to thy sight. Helen, with mad, distracted senses, Helen he 'd win by all pretences; And knows not how or where the task commences ; But he deserves the Esculapian cure. MANTO. To whom the Impossible is lure I love. (Chiron is already far away.) Rash one, advance ! there 's joy for thee ! This dark way leads thee to Persephone. Under Olympus' hollow foot, Secret, she waits prohibited salute. I smuggled Orpheus in to her, of old : Use thy chance better ! On ! — be bold ! \They descend. 124 FAUST. III. ON THE UPPER PENEUS, AS BEFORE. SIRENS. PLUNGE in cool Peneus' wave ! There 't is well to sport in swimming, Songs with chorded voices hymning, That the ill-starred folk we save. Health is none where water fails ! " Let our hosts, with sounding pasan, Hasten to the blue ^Egasan, Where each joy shall swell our sails. (Earthqziake.) Back the frothy wave is flowing, Now no longer downward going ; Shakes the bed, the waters roar, Cracks and smokes the stony shore. Let us fly ! Come, every one ! By this marvel profit none. Leave, ye guests, this wild commotion For the cheerful sports of Ocean, Shining, where the quivering reaches, Lightly heaving, bathe the beaches, — There, where Luna's double splendor Freshens us with night-dews tender. There the freest life delights us ; Here the threatening Earthquake frights us : Who is prudent, haste away ! Fearful is it, here to stay. SEISMOS 7' (grirwUng and jolting ill the depths). Once again the force applying, ' Bravely with the shoulders prying, ACT II. 125 We to get above are trying, Where to us must all give way. SPHINXES. What a most repulsive shaking, Terrible and hideous quaking ! What a quivering and shocking, Hither rolling, thither rocking ! What vexation and dismay ! But we shall not change our station. Were all Hell in agitation. . . . Now behold a dome upswelling, Wonderful ! 'T is he, compelling, — He, the hoary, antiquated, He who Delos' isle created. Bidding it from ocean break, For the childed woman's sake. He, with all his force expended, Rigid arms and shoulders bended. Like an Atlas in his gesture Pushes up the earth's green vesture. Loam and grit, and sand and shingle, Where the shore and river mingle : Thus our valley's bosom quiet Cross-wise tears he, in his riot. In unwearied force defiant. He, a caryatid-giant. Bears a fearful weight of boulders. Buried still below his shoulders ; But no further shall be granted. For the Sphinxes here are planted." SEISMOS. The work alone I 've undertaken ; The credit will be I^'j FAUST. PHORKYAS. To me, a free-born Cretan, did that journey bring Imprisonment, as well, — protracted slavery. HELENA. At once he hither ordered thee as stewardess. Giving in charge the fortress and the treasure-stores. PHORKYAS. Which thou forsookest, wending to the towered town Of Ilion, and the unexhausted joys of love. HELENA. Name not those joys to me ! for sorrow all too stem Unendingly was poured upon my breast and brain. PHORKYAS. Nathless, they say, dost thou appear in double form •, Beheld in Ilion, — in Egypt, too, beheld. HELENA. Make wholly not confused my clouded, wandering sense 1 Even in this moment, who I am I cannot tell. PHORKYAS. And then, they say, from out the hollow Realm of Shades Achilles yet was joined in passion unto thee, Who earlier loved thee, 'gainst all ordinances of Fate ! HELENA. To him, the Vision, I, a Vision, wed myself : '"'' It was a dream, as even the words themselves declare. I vanish hence, and to myself a Vision grow. (She sinks into the arms of the Semichorus.) ACT III. f^g CHORUS. Silence ! silence ! False-seeing one, false-speaking one ! Out of the hideous, single-toothed Mouth, what should be exhaled from Such abominable horror-throat ! For the Malevolent, seeming benevolent, — Wolf's wrath under the sheep's woolly fleece, — FearfuUer far is unto me than Throat of the three-headed dog. Anxiously listening stand we here. When ? how ? where shall break again forth Further malice From the deeply-ambushed monster ? Now, stead of friendly words and consoling, Lethe-bestowing, gratefully mild, Stirrest thou up from all the Past Evillest more than good things, And darkenest all at once Both the gleam of the Present And also the Future's Sweetly glimmering dawn of hope ! Silence ! silence ! That the Queen's high spirit. Nigh to forsake her now. Hold out, and upbear yet The Form of all forms Which the sun shone on ever. (Helena has recovered^ and stands again in the centre.") PHORKYAS. Forth from transient vapors comes the lofty sun of this ■ bright day, 4'8o FAUST. That, obscured, could so delight us, but in splendor dazzles now. As the world to thee is lovely, thou art lovely unto us ; Though as ugly they revile me, well I know the Beautiful HELENA. Tottering step I from the Void that — dizzy, fainting, — round me closed ; And again would fain be resting, for so weary are my limbs. Yet to Queens beseemeth chiefly, as to all men it be- seems. Calm to be, and pluck up courage, whatsoe'er may menace them. PHORKYAS. Standing now in aU thy greatness, and in all thy beauty, here. Says thine eye that thou commandest : what command'st thou ? speak it out ! HELENA. Be prepared, for much neglected in your quarrel, to atone ! Haste, a sacrifice to furnish, as the king hath ordered me ! PHORKYAS. All is ready in the palace — vessels, tripods, sharpened axe. For the sprinkling, fumigating : show to me the victim now! HELENA. This the king not indicated. PHORKYAS. Spake it not ? O word of woe ! ACT III. i8i HELENA. What distress hath overcome thee ? PHORKYAS. Queen, the ofiering art thou ! ' I? HELENA. And these. PHORKYAS. CHORUS. Ah, woe and sorrow ! PHORKYAS. Thou shalt fall beneath the axe. HELENA. Fearful, yet foreboded ! I, alas ! PHORKYAS. There seemeth no escape. CHORUS. Ah ! and what to us will happen ? PHORKYAS. She will die a noble death ; But upon the lofty beam, upholding rafter-frame and roof, As in birding-tirae the throstles, ye in turn shall strug- gling hang ! (Helena and the Chorus stand amazed and alarmed, in striking, well-arranged groups. ) PHORKYAS. Ye Phantoms ! — like to frozen images ye stand. In terror thus from Day to part, which is not yours. t82 FAUST. Men, and the race of spectr-es like you, one and all, Renounce not willingly the bright beams