BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME 
 FROM THE 
 
 SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND 
 
 THE GIFT OF 
 
 Henrg W. Sage 
 
 1S9Z 
 
 /4>\?[»'?-a.^ :dLS^|liL|iaoS: 
 
 3081 
 
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 Cornell University Library 
 PT 2026.H97 
 
 3 1924 026 192 355 
 
 f^iitf.B.I<AURIATe^ 
 
 epp.'told Sou »■"-»"»-"" 
 

THE TRAGEDY OF FAUSTUS. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 PEINTEU BY GILBEKT AND RIVINGTON, LIMITED, 
 
 ST, JOHN*S HOUSE, CLERKENWELL KOAD. 
 
THE 
 
 ICrageb^ of faustus 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE 
 
 THE FIRST PART 
 TRANSLATED IN THE ORIGINAL RHYME AND METRE 
 
 BY 
 
 ALFRED HENRY HUTH 
 
 LONDON 
 SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE & RIVINGTON 
 
 Limited 
 
 Fetter Lane, Fleet Street, E.G. 
 1889 
 
 X) 
 
A. V^«ic,%c\<i^ 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The addition of one more to the forty odd translations 
 of " Faust " already before the public, may perhaps be a 
 compliment to Goethe, but requires an apology to the 
 reader. I began it in my boyhood, while yet ignorant 
 of what had already been done, and without any design 
 of publication ; other work caused me to lay it aside, and 
 only the accident of leisure in a country house induced 
 me to take it up again. But with succeeding years the 
 difficulty of adding anything of worth to the mature work 
 of our predecessors becomes increasingly apparent, and 
 he must be a bold man who thinks he has entirely super- 
 seded what has been done before him. Nevertheless, I 
 trust this translation will have a certain value of its own. 
 Fettered by rhyme and metre, an entirely satisfactory 
 translation is, perhaps, impossible ; for one cannot choose 
 one's expressions as can the author, or change one's 
 imagery to suit the exigencies of rhyme. I have endea- 
 voured, however, to do my best. Comparing it with the 
 
vi ^wfate. 
 
 versions of other translators, I am surprised to find how 
 seldom I have a line the same as theirs. When one 
 considers that a translation should be a transformation 
 into those words which best correspond to the original, 
 this shows, either that the English language is extraordi- 
 narily rich, or that no translation approaches very near to 
 what an ideal translation should be. I am inclined to 
 think that it is due to both causes. No translation I 
 have yet seen (that is, rhyming translation) would stand 
 much chance of turning out like the original if re-trans- 
 lated into German; while, on the other hand, a rich 
 language gives extraordinary power to turn a sentence in 
 a variety of ways, and the difficulties of rhyme (some- 
 times six together) frequently compel a translator to 
 resort to paraphrase. The language I have adopted is 
 partly Jacobean, and partly modern, to correspond with 
 the partly mediaeval, partly modern philosophical style 
 of the play. To talk of supernatural beings as if one 
 believed in them, in the language of the nineteenth cen- 
 tury, is an impossibility ; to talk of modern philosophy 
 or modern stage fittings in the language of three hundred 
 years ago is an anachronism. My rhymes, with hardly 
 an exception, occur where they occur in the original; 
 the metre also corresponds line for line with the original 
 with but few exceptions ; while at the same time I have 
 endeavoured to translate literally, and make my rendering 
 read as little like a translation as possible. What has 
 been the measure of my success, it is not for me to 
 judge. 
 
30refart. vii 
 
 No particular attention has been called to difficult or 
 doubtful passages, and hardly any explanatory notes have 
 been added. In the first case, the translation must stand 
 upon its merits : I have given what I think to be the 
 proper translation, and the reader must justify any doubts 
 to himself. As for the second, so much has been written 
 upon " Faust," and, as in the case of Shakespeare, so 
 little of any value, that I preferred not to worry the 
 student with insults to his understanding. The most 
 interesting class of comment is that showing Goethe's 
 indebtedness to Shakespeare; especially to '' Hamlet," 
 " Macbeth," and the " Merry Wives," but any one can 
 see this for himself. 
 
 In conclusion, I trust that I may be pardoned for 
 rendering certain proper names into English equivalents. 
 This has not been done by Marlowe, or any succeeding 
 translator of the Faust legend ; still I think that a trans- 
 lation should be made to look as much like an original 
 production as possible, and should not remind the reader 
 at every turn that he has before him a rendering from a 
 foreign tongue. 
 
©eliicatioiu 
 
 Ye shifting forms, again do ye draw nigh ! 
 That early once did show to my sad gaze ; 
 This time to hold ye fast essay shall I ? 
 Feel I my heart is bent upon the craze ? 
 Ye throng around ! Well, rule as ye pass by 
 My mind, materialized from mist and haze. 
 I feel my bosom stirred by youthful force. 
 The magic breath that^plays about your course. 
 
 Of happier days the phantasms bring you, 
 
 And many a darling shadow doth arise ; 
 
 A legend half forgot 'tis like unto : 
 
 Come thou, First Love, and Friendship come likewise ! 
 
 The pain's recalled, and we plain us anew 
 
 Of life's devious and labyrinthine guise. 
 
 Name, too, those worthies, who in their fair day. 
 
 Betrayed by fate, 'fore me have passed away. 
 
 They cannot hearken to the following song, 
 
 Those souls for whom the first one I essayed ; 
 
 Dispersed is that amicable throng 
 
 And hushed, alas ! the echo that they made ! 
 
 B 
 
Cf)f CragtBD of dTau^tufi. 
 
 My song doth sound an unknown crowd among, 
 E'en their applause doth make my heart afraid ; 
 And those who once took pleasure in my lay, 
 If they still live, are scattered far away. 
 
 A yearning takes me, forgot long ago, 
 For that unruffled solemn spirit-reign ; 
 In notes uncertain coraeth, wafted low 
 Like an ^olian harp, my lisping strain. 
 A tremor hath me, tears on tears do flow. 
 My austere heart grows mild and soft again, 
 The things I have, I see as 'twere afar. 
 Those which were lost to me, now real are. 
 
manager. poet. merryman. 
 
 Manager. 
 
 Ye twain, who have so oft before 
 
 In stress and trouble by me stood, 
 
 Say what ye think in Germany should 
 
 Be hoped of this our endeavour ? 
 
 I greatly wish to please the multitude, 
 
 Because it lives and would let live withal ; 
 
 The posts are up, and boarding is made good. 
 
 And every one expects a festival. 
 
 Already are they there, with eyebrows raised. 
 
 Sit patiently, and fain would be amazed. 
 
 To hit the public taste, I know the way ; 
 
 Yet ne'er before was so embarrassed ! 
 
 Not used unto the best, 'tis true, are they. 
 
 But then they are so terribly well read ! 
 
 How shall we manage that all fresh and new 
 
 Be, and with meaning, and be pleasing too ? 
 
 In sooth, it likes me well the crowd to see 
 
 When that the stream towards our stage doth course, 
 
 And in repeated throws doth vigorously 
 
 Surge through the narrow gate of grace perforce. 
 
 B 2 
 
CI;c Cragetfg of dFaufitug. 
 
 By light o' day, before 'tis four, 
 
 With blows their way ipto the office make, 
 
 And like in famine times before the baker's door, 
 
 To get a ticket, risk their necks to break. 
 
 This wonder on such various people may 
 
 The Poet solely work; friend, do't to-day ! 
 
 Poet. 
 
 Oh, speak not to me of that motley tide 
 Before whose glance our spirit all doth flee ! 
 From all that surging crowd do thou me hide, 
 That draws us in the whirl unwillingly ! 
 No, to some quiet heavenly corner guide 
 Me, where pure joy blooms for the Poet only ; 
 Where Love, and Friendship, blessings of the heart. 
 Are made and nurtured by the divine art ! 
 
 Alas, what from our inmost breast proceeds. 
 That which the trembling lips will scarcely own. 
 Mistaken now, that now, perchance, succeeds. 
 By the wild moment's power is swallowed down ! 
 Oft many a year's development it needs 
 Ere it shall to its finished form have grown ; 
 Your tinsel for the moment's born, solely ; 
 The Real remaineth for posterity ! 
 
 Merryman. 
 
 Would of posterity I heard nought, ne'er ! 
 Granted to talk of them I ready were. 
 Who'd make sport for the present day ? 
 That they will have, and have they shall. 
 
Cijt Cvagctij) of dTntistuS. 
 
 The presence of a jolly lad, withal, 
 
 Methinks is something too, alway. 
 
 He who can say what he would genially. 
 
 Him will the public's humour ne'er make sore ; 
 
 A larger circle wisheth he 
 
 To agitate them all the more. 
 
 Be bold, then, show yourselves in master fashion, 
 
 Let Phantasy be heard, with all her rout ; 
 
 Reason, Intelligence, Sentiment, and Passion, 
 
 But, mark ye, Folly must not be left out ! 
 
 Man A HER. 
 Above all, let there enough action be : 
 They come to look, and they like best to see. 
 If many things before their eyes be spun 
 At which the wondering multitude may stare. 
 Then straight a reputation have ye won, 
 And a much-favoured man are there. 
 Only through mass, can ye coerce the Masses, 
 Each one will pick out something finally. 
 Who doth bring much, brings something for all classes 
 And each will leave the house contentedly. 
 Act ye a piece ? In pieces give't straightway. 
 It must ye speed, — your fine medley ! 
 As easily presented, as thought out ! 
 What boots it if a whole ye have brought out ? 
 The public will dissect it anyway. 
 
 Poet. 
 You cannot feel how wretched such a work must be, 
 How little the true artist doth beseem. 
 
Ci)E CrngrtD of dffltiStiiiS. 
 
 The bungling of your fine gentry 
 I see you do a model deem. 
 
 Manager. 
 
 Such a reproach leaves me inviolate. 
 He who good work doth meditate, 
 Must use the tools that are most fit. 
 Bethink you, 'tis soft wood you have to split ! 
 And then, for whom you're writing, see: 
 This one comes, driven by ennui, 
 And that comes from the table, overfed ; 
 And what the worst of all, too, be, 
 Full many a one that hath the papers read. 
 Idly they hurry to us, as 'twere a masquerade, 
 Each step is winged by mere curiosity. 
 Ladies themselves and finery parade, 
 And act with us sans salary. 
 What dream you of on your poetic height ? 
 Why doth a full house please you more ? 
 Look on your patrons there aright, 
 The half are cold, and half are raw. 
 That, the play done, doth for the green cloth long ; 
 And that for a wild night upon a wench's breast ; 
 Poor fools ! Why would ye still then wrong 
 The Muses sweet on such a quest ? 
 Give only more, and always, always more, say I, 
 Your way you'll ne'er be at a loss to find/ 
 Unto your goal,^ — but fool mankind, 
 Tis difficult to satisfy ! 
 What ails you ? Ecstasy, or pain is't, eh ? 
 
CI)t CragtKn of JfaustuS. 
 
 Poet. 
 
 Be gone, and seek thee out some other thrall 
 The Poet thou'dst have, the highest gift of all 
 The right of manhood, Nature hath him lent, 
 For thy sake fatuously to fool away ! 
 By what means doth he all hearts sway ? 
 By what means rule each element ? 
 Is it not harmony, that in his bosom springs, 
 And in his heart embalmeth earthly things ? 
 When that her thread's eternal length, callous 
 Darae Nature twists, and on the spindle brings, 
 When all the mass of being inharmonious 
 All froward and sans order rings ; 
 Who parts the flowing ever equal course, 
 And quickens it to pulsate rhythmically ? 
 Who joins each unit in one common force. 
 Where it doth beat in heavenly harmony ? 
 Who bids the storm within our passions roar, 
 Bids glow in pensive souls the evening sun ? 
 Who is it doth all sweet spring blossoms pour 
 Upon the path of the loved one ? 
 Who insignificant green leaves doth twine 
 To crown with honour worth in every field ? 
 Assures Olympus, knits the Gods divine ? 
 The Power of Man, that in the Poet's revealed ! 
 
 Merryman. 
 
 Then use these noble powers to press 
 Along your Poet's business, 
 
8 1Ei)t Cvagrti) of dTauEitusS. 
 
 As one a love-adventure carries on : 
 
 One meets by chance, one's moved, one tarries on. 
 
 And by degrees one gets into a tangle ; 
 
 Your bliss doth wax, and by-and-by you wrangle, 
 ^^ne is enraptured, then there cometh care, 
 * And ere one doth observe it, there's a romance there, 
 
 Let us, too, some such drama give. 
 
 Seek boldly in the life that mankind live. 
 
 Each lives it, to not many is it known, 
 
 'Twill interest wherever it is shown. 
 
 Bright pictures, little perspicacity, 
 
 Much error, one spark of veracity — 
 
 With these you may the best drink brew 
 
 The world to quicken and its life renew. 
 
 Youth's fairest blossoms there'll collected be 
 
 Before your play, watch its development ; 
 
 And from your work, each tender entity 
 
 Will suck a melancholy nourishment ; 
 
 Now this, now that, is touched on by your art, 
 
 And each one sees that he hath in his heart. 
 
 Ready they ever are to laugh or cry. 
 
 Admire the go, delight in what they see ; 
 
 Your finished man you ne'er can satisfy, 
 
 A mind unformed will ever grateful be. 
 
 Poet. 
 Then give me, too, again those days 
 When still unformed myself was I ; 
 When like a stream the thronging lays 
 Were born uninterruptedly ! 
 
Clje Crasttig of dTauiSttDS. 
 
 When mist did hide the world, and still 
 The buds did promise wonders rare ; 
 When I culled myriad blossoms fair 
 That richly all the vale did fill. 
 Nought had I, yet sufliciency ! 
 The thirst for truth, love of the illusory ! 
 Give me uncurbed that appetite. 
 That deep delight akin to pain, 
 The force of hate, of love the might ! 
 Oh, give me back my youth again ! , 
 
 Merryman. 
 
 Youth,, my good friend, thou wouldst require of course ; 
 
 When by thy foes in battle pressed ; 
 
 AVhen fascinating maids perforce 
 
 Do hang themselves upon thy breast ; 
 
 When in the race's hard-fought run 
 
 Afar doth beck the crown of bay ; 
 
 When, the impetuous round dance done. 
 
 One feasts and drinks the night away. 
 
 Yet the familiar strings with soul 
 
 And gracefulness to play upon, 
 
 And towards a self-erected goal 
 
 With sweet digressions wander on — 
 
 This, ancient Sirs, is your business, 
 
 And for that we no less do honour ye : 
 
 Age leads not, as folk say, to childishness 
 
 It finds us still but children verily ! "* 
 
W\}t CragtKg of ^faustug. 
 
 Manager. 
 AVords you've exchanged in siifficience, 
 Let me at length see deeds begun ! 
 While ye are turning compliments 
 A something useful might be done. 
 What boots much talk of mood withal ? 
 A waverer ne'er in mood will be, 
 If ye yourselves would poets call. 
 Why then command your poetry ! 
 Ye know what we want well enough, 
 'Tis strong drink that we wish to quaff. 
 Now do ye brew it me anon : 
 What is not done to-day, neither to-morrow's done, 
 Let ne'er a day pass by vacantly ; 
 What's possible, should a robust 
 Resolve seize at its rise instantly, 
 You'll not let it escape presently. 
 You'll labour on, because you must. 
 Upon our German stage, ye wot, 
 Each that him liketh doth essay ; 
 Therefore your scenery to-day 
 And engines, see ye spare me not. 
 The great and lesser heavenly lights apply. 
 In stars ye may be prodigal ; 
 Of water, fire, and rocky wall, 
 And beasts and birds, there is plenty ! 
 Thus through our narrow booth of boards march on 
 The total round of creation. 
 And with a discreet speed travel 
 From Heaven on through the world to Hell. 
 
prologue in l^eabciu 
 
 The Lord, and the Heavenly Hosts. Afterwards 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 The three Archangels come forward. 
 
 Raphael. 
 
 Still choirs the Sun as formerly 
 His brother-spheres to emulate, 
 And their appointed journey he 
 With thunder-peals doth terminate. 
 The aspect Angels strength doth lend, 
 Though none their mystery fathom may ; 
 Thy works, too great to comprehend. 
 Are glorious as on the first day. 
 
 Gabriel. 
 
 With swiftness past conception great 
 Earth's splendour turns about. The light 
 Of Paradise doth alternate 
 With deep and horrifying night. 
 The sea doth mighty waves of spray 
 Up deep-based rocky faces hurl. 
 
ULijt CragcBj) of jTausituS. 
 
 And rock and sea are torn away 
 In that swift etern' planet-whirl. 
 
 Michael. 
 
 And storms in opposition boil 
 From sea to land, and land to sea, 
 And form a chain in wild turmoil 
 Around, of deepest mystery. 
 Thence wasting lightning-flashes clear 
 Before the thunder a pathway. 
 Thy Messengers, O Lord, revere 
 The mild procession of Thy day ! 
 
 The Three. 
 
 The aspect Angels strength doth lend, 
 Since none Thy Being fathom may. 
 And all Thy works, without an end, 
 Are glorious as on the first day ! 
 
 Mephistophiles . 
 
 Since Thou, O Lord, again once more nearest Thee, 
 And dost inquire how all things with us go. 
 And Thou with pleasure wert wont to see me. 
 Thou seest, among Thy vassals, me also. 
 Thy pardon, I no high-flown words possess, 
 E'en though Thy circle all scorn me therefore. 
 My pathos would but make Thee laugh, doubtless. 
 An 'twere not that Thou laughest now no more. 
 Reports on Suns and Worlds I can't present, 
 I do but see how men themselves torment. 
 
Wiyt CrageBo of dTaiiStud. 13 
 
 The little god of earth still ticketh evenly, 
 Still wondrous, as on the first day, is he ; 
 A little happier be, he might, 
 Hadst Thou not given him seeming heavenly light ; 
 He calls it reason, and solely 
 Beastlier than beasts to be, he does't apply. 
 He seepaeth me, with Thy gracious favour. 
 To be like any long-legged grasshopper. 
 That ever flies, and flying springs. 
 And in the grass straightway the old song sings- 
 Would in the grass he'd always lie ! He must 
 His nose in every piece of garbage thrust. 
 
 The Lord. 
 
 Hast thou nought else to say to me ? 
 Dost thou come ever to plain thee ? 
 Is nothing on the earth to thee e'er right ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Nay, Lord, I do, as ever, find all's wrong there, quite. 
 And I do pity mankind for their sufferings, 
 And scarce myself would harass the poor things. 
 
 The Lord. 
 Dost Faustus know ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 The doctor ? 
 
 The Lord. 
 Yea, that wight. 
 
14 Cf)c ErageBu of dfausitiis. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 In sooth, he serveth Thee in wondrous wise ! 
 
 The wittol's meat is of no earthly guise, 
 
 A ferment drives him on afar, 
 
 Half conscious is he of his lunacy ; 
 
 From Heaven he calleth down each brightest star, 
 
 And from the earth, each highest phantasy ; 
 
 Nor all that's near, nor all that's far. 
 
 His deep-moved breast can ever satisfy. 
 
 The Lord. 
 
 What though he now distraughtly serveth Me, 
 Soon to the light of day I will him lead. 
 Knoweth not the gardener, when green decks th^ tree, 
 The coming year with bloom and fruit will't bead ? 
 
 r^ Mephistophiles. 
 
 What wilt Thou gage ? Thou'lt lose him yet indeed. 
 If Thou the licence wilt me give 
 Him gently down my road to lead. 
 
 The Lord. 
 
 So long as he on earth doth live, 
 
 So long 'tis not prohibited ; 
 
 For man must err while he doth strive. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 I thank Thee, for in people dead 
 I ne'er could take an interest. 
 
Zi)t CrngeUj) of df<i"£itu<S. 1 5 
 
 It is your full fresh cheeks, i' sooth, that like me best ; 
 Your corpses I do never deign to see ; 
 It is a cat-and-mouse business with me. 
 
 The Lord. 
 
 'Tis well ; 'tis granted to thee. Draw 
 This spirit from its fountain-head astray, 
 And lead him, if thou canst him claw, 
 With thee upon thy downward way. 
 And stand ashamed when driven to confess 
 In the dark struggle he that is righteous 
 Still the good way holds in his consciousness. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 'Tis well, long will it not take us. 
 Methinks my wager no wit perilous. 
 If I should compass my purpose, 
 Thou'lt let me triumph in all heartiness. 
 Dust shall he eat with greediness, 
 Like to my Aunt, the serpent notorious . 
 
 The Lord. 
 
 There, too, I give thee dispensation. 
 
 For I did never loathe the like of thee ; 
 
 Of all the Spirits of Negation 
 
 The cozener's least odious unto me. 
 
 Man's waning energy too lightly needs renewing. 
 
 He soon preferreth ease inviolate, 
 
 Therefore I give him an associate 
 
 Who stirs and works, and must, as devil, be doing. 
 
i6 Cf)t CvagettD of dfaiiStue. 
 
 And ye, true sons of God, do ye 
 Rejoice in all this living rich beauty ! 
 The Formative, that liveth, striveth ever. 
 The gentle bonds of love around ye cast ; 
 And what in fickle phantasm doth waver. 
 With thought enduring see that ye make fast. 
 
 {Heaven doses, and the Archangels disperse. ) 
 
 Mephistophiles {alone"). 
 
 I like at times the Ancient One to see. 
 And not to break with Him I seek ; 
 It showeth, in so great a Lord, comely, 
 So homely with the Devil himself to speak. 
 
Cije Cragcti|). 
 
 Night. In a high, narrow Gothic chamber, Faustus 
 discovered, agitated, at his desk. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 I've now, ah me ! Philosophy, 
 J urispradence, Medicine, 
 And, save the mark ! Theology, 
 Deep studied with endeavour keen, 
 Now stand I here, poor simple I ! 
 And am as wise as formerly. 
 Master, e'en Doctor styled, forsooth, 
 Have led, hard on ten years, in truth. 
 Crosswise and crooked, in deeps and out, 
 My scholars by the nose about. 
 And see that we can nothing learn. 
 It makes my heart within me burn ! 
 True, I outskill these triflers all, at least. 
 Doctors and Masters, Writing-men and Priest, 
 No scruple doth plague me, or e'en misdoubt. 
 No Hell doth affright me, nor fiend thereout ; 
 Yet with it, too, all gladness has gone quite, 
 Ne'er dream I now of seeking what is right, 
 
 c 
 
€i)t CragtUi) of dTaugtusi. 
 
 Ne'er dream I ought to teach by which I could 
 
 Better Mankind, or turn him back to good. 
 
 Nor own I either goods or gold, 
 
 Nor worldly pomp, nor honours hold. 
 
 No dog like this would longer live 1 
 
 Therefore I do myself to magic give, 
 
 That I through spirit power and speech 
 
 May many a darksome secret reach. 
 
 No more with bitter toil shall go 
 
 To teach things that I do not know. 
 
 And shall the guiding Essence see 
 
 That binds the world eternally ; 
 
 See every force, and every seed, 
 
 And dull word-mongering no more need. 
 
 Fair Moon ! would that thou didst now shine 
 
 The last time on these cares of mine ! 
 
 Whom I so oft saw rise, while that 
 
 I at my desk, o' midnights, sat : 
 
 Then, shimmering over book and scroll, 
 
 A mournful friend, thy bright beams stole. 
 
 Ah, could I but on mountain height 
 
 Wander in thy tender light, 
 
 With Spirits float round each ravine. 
 
 O'er meadows hover in thy sheen. 
 
 From fogs of science eased and free. 
 
 Bathe in thy dews, and healthful be ! 
 
 Still in this prison life I pass. 
 
 This cursed and musty cell, alas [ 
 
 Where the fair light of heaven scarce strains 
 
Elje Cragrtn of dTaugtus . 1 9 
 
 Dim through the painted casement panes. 
 By all these books hemmed in am I, 
 Where worms do burrow, dust abound ; 
 For even to the roof, piled liighj 
 The grimy leaves are stacked around. 
 Cases and glass surround me here. 
 And each with instruments full crammed, 
 With antique house-gear in them jammed — 
 That is thy sphere ! 'Tis called a sphere ! 
 
 And seekest thou why thy heart would fain 
 Cease, fearful, in thy breast to play ? 
 Wherefore an unexplained pain 
 The pulses of thy life would stay ? 
 'Tis that in lively Nature's stead. 
 That God in man whilom did seat. 
 Are skeletons, bones of the dead. 
 Amidst convention's clouds effete. 
 
 Arise ! Fly forth through the wide land ! 
 This book, so full of mystery, 
 By Nostradamus' proper hand, 
 Is't not sufficient guide for thee ? 
 Then shalt thou learn the starry course, 
 And when thee Nature's self shall teach, 
 Then shall expand all thy soul's force, 
 As spirit with spirit holdeth speech. 
 In vain would here thy senses dry 
 The sacred symbols render clear, 
 Ye hover round, ye spirits, near by: 
 Answer me now, if that ye hear 
 c 2 
 
Cfje CragfUn of dTauStiiS. 
 
 {He opens the book, and sees the sign of the Macrocosm^ 
 
 Aha ! What sweet enchantment in the sight 
 
 Doth suddenly through all my senses flow ! 
 
 I feel a new and heavenly delight 
 
 In life, again through nerve and artery glow ! 
 
 Was it a deity this sign did trace 
 
 That doth my inward raging still, 
 
 And with delight my poor heart fill ? 
 
 And do, by inward mystic grace. 
 
 All Nature's forces round me open to my skill ? 
 
 Am I a God ? — All groweth so clear 
 
 As I gaze on those fair signs there, 
 
 All Nature's workings to my soul lie bare. 
 
 Now first the sage's meaning doth appear: 
 
 " The Spirit-world is not barred out, 
 
 Thy sense is locked, thy heart is dead ; 
 
 Up, Student ! Bathe with courage stout 
 
 Thy earthy breast in morning-red ! " 
 
 {He considers the sign.) 
 
 How all things to a whole do weave ; 
 Each in the other work and live ! 
 As heavenly forces, rising and descending. 
 And each to each the golden buckets sending. 
 With wafted beats that blessings bring, 
 From Heaven on through the earth passing. 
 Throughout the All, harmonious ring 1 
 
 A brave show ! But, alas, 'tis but show there ! 
 Where may I grasp thee, boundless Nature, where? 
 
^\)! CragrtB of dTausitiis. 
 
 Ye breasts, where are ye ? Of all life the source, 
 Whereon both heaven and earth depend, 
 Whither the withered heart doth wend ; 
 Ye flow, ye give to drink, while I must pine perforce ! 
 
 {Ife indignantly turns over the leaves, and sees the sign of 
 the Spirit of the Earth.) 
 
 How differently upon me works this sign ! 
 
 Spirit of Earth, I feel thou'rt nigher ! 
 
 E'en now I feel my powers wax higher ! 
 
 E'en now I glow, as from new wine ! 
 
 Into the world I feel a strength to dare, 
 
 The woes of earth, earth's happiness to bear. 
 
 To buffet with tempestuous air, 
 
 And in the crushing ship- wrack feel no fear ! 
 
 Clouds close me o'er — 
 
 The Moon doth hide her light — 
 
 The lamp burns dim ! 
 
 Mists form, — red rays do shoot 
 
 About my head, and from 
 
 Above a horror comes 
 
 And closes o'er me ! 
 
 I feel't ! Thou float'st about me. Spirit prayer-borne ! 
 
 Reveal thyself! 
 
 Ah, how my heart within is torn 
 
 With feelings new ! 
 
 All my senses convulsed too ! 
 
 All, all my heart I feel to thee is forced ! 
 
 Thou must, thou must, and if my life it cost \\ 
 
Clbf Cragrtu of jFau^tus. 
 
 {He takes the book, and secretly pronounces the sign of the 
 Spirit. A red flame shoots up, in which the Spirit 
 appears.) 
 
 Spirit. 
 
 Who calls me ? 
 
 Faustus {with averted face). 
 Fearsome form of fright. 
 
 Spirit. 
 
 Hast powerfully drawn me here, 
 I^ong hast been working at my sphere, 
 And now — 
 
 Faustus.*' 
 I may not bear thy sight ! 
 
 Spirit. 
 
 To look upon me, thou didst panting pray ; 
 
 To hear my voice, my countenance to see ; 
 
 Thy mighty prayer, deep from thy soul, moved me, 
 
 Here am I ! What poor fears betray 
 
 And nigh o'erwhelm thee ! Where's thy soul's vocation ? 
 
 The breast, that to a world did give creation, 
 
 And bore and fostered ? That in ecstasy 
 
 Aspired of us, the Spirits, peer to be ? 
 
 Where art thou, Faustus, whose voice did me sound. 
 
 And in my ears with mighty power resound ? 
 
 Art thou he, thou, whom e'en my breath doth blight, 
 
 Whose inmost being shakes with fright ? 
 
 A fearful fleeing writhing worm ! 
 
CI)e EiagtDj) of dTatiStud 23 
 
 Faustds. 
 Shall I yield, thing of flame, to thee? 
 It is I, Faustus ! Thy peer see ! 
 
 Spirit. 
 
 In life's deep flood, in action's storm, 
 
 I flickering wave ; 
 
 Float to and fro ! 
 
 Birth and the grave. 
 
 Eternal flow ! 
 
 Weft changing still, 
 
 Life that doth thrill ! 
 
 So on time's humming loom weave I 
 
 The living garb of Deity ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Since the wide world thou roamest around. 
 Thou busy Spirit, how near I feel to thee ! 
 
 Spirit. 
 
 In him thou comprehendest thy like's found, 
 Not me. ( Vanishes) 
 
 Faustus {overwhelmed). 
 
 Not thee ? 
 
 Whom, then ? 
 
 I, God's own image. 
 
 And not e'en like thee ! 
 
 {A knock.') 
 'Sdeath, my Famulus ! I know 'tis he. 
 
24 K^t CrageUw of dfaustttS. 
 
 My fairest chance is rendered nought ! 
 That this rare scene, so richly wrought, 
 Should by that curtain blotted be ! 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 (In dressing-gown and night-cap, with a lamp in his hand. 
 Faustus turns towards him reluctantly). 
 
 Pardon, I heard you did declaim : 
 Doubtless it was you read Greek tragedy ? 
 I, too, would gladly profit in the same. 
 For much may now be done thereby. 
 Oft have I heard it said, as teacher 
 An actor might indeed improve a preacher. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Ay, when your priest to acting is inclined, 
 As haply, now and then, the case may be. 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 Ah ! when in a museum one is confined. 
 And scarce, e'eri holidays, the world may see. 
 Scarce through an optic-glass, afar, indeed. 
 How by persuasion can one mankind lead ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Unless you feel it, it will ne'er be caught ; 
 Unless it riseth from your soul, 
 And doth with natural charm, untaught, 
 The hearts of all who hear control. 
 Use paste and scissors — sit there ever — 
 
■ CI)« tlragrtig of dTattJitutf. 25 
 
 From other's fare concoct your hash. 
 And blow the starveling flames together 
 From out your little heap of ash ; 
 To child or ape, a wondrous sight, 
 If your taste lie that way indeed : 
 Yet, heart to heart you never will unite 
 Save it doth from your heart proceed I 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 Yet ready speech doth make the speaker hit : 
 I feel't forsooth, though I be far from it. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Seek but an honest gain to find, 
 
 No hollow tinkling foolishness ! 
 
 For, reason and true sense combined 
 
 With little art themselves express. 
 
 And if you are ardent aught to speak 
 
 Is't needful to you words to seek ? 
 
 Yea, yea, — Your speeches that with brilliance glow. 
 
 In which you twirl your paper men, withal, 
 
 Are unrefreshing as fog-winds that blow 
 
 Amidst the withered leaves in Autumn fall. 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 Ah me ! How long is art ! 
 Our life too short alway ! 
 Full oft amid my critical essay 
 I fear me for my head and heart. 
 How very hard to win the means, it is. 
 
2 6 W-tji Cragtftu of dfatistu^. 
 
 Whereby one riseth to the source ! 
 
 And, e en before one hath passed half the course, 
 
 Must a poor devil die, I wis !J 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Must parchment, then, the holy fountain be 
 From which one draft for ever stills one's thirst ? 
 Thy quickening shalt thou ne'er win thee, 
 If from thy soul it doth not rise up first. 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 Pardon, 'tis great delight to cast 
 
 One's self into the spirit of the past. 
 
 To see all that a wise man hath before us thought 
 
 And mark how splendidly we have it onwards wrought ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Ay, marry e'en to the stars, so far ! 
 
 My friend, the antique times of old now are 
 
 A seven-sealed book to us ; what by 
 
 The " spirit of the times " ye mean, 
 
 At bottom but your own times are, I ween. 
 
 In which the ages mirrored lie. 
 
 In sooth, too oft, 'tis chagrin sore : 
 
 One would at the first glance fain turn away, 
 
 It is a dustbin and a lumber store ; 
 
 While at the best it is a high stage play 
 
 With excellent pragmatic maxims teeming. 
 
 Such as a- puppet's mouth are well beseeming [ 
 
t!Li)t CragrtM of jFaudtusi. 27 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 Nay, but the world, man's heart and spirit, withal, 
 Sure every one would somewhat of it know ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Ay, that which men do knowledge call. 
 
 Who dare its right name on the child bestow? 
 
 The few of them who something thereof learnt, 
 
 And whose full hearts, too weakly, could not hide 
 
 Their feelings from the mob, but their views notified, 
 
 Mankind hath ever crucified or burnt. 
 
 I prithee, friend, 'tis now deep i' the night, 
 
 Our talk must this time interrupted be. 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 Indeed, I had watched ever with delight, 
 
 In converse with you thus so learnedly ! 
 
 Nathless, to-morrow, since 'tis Easter day, 
 
 I will allow myself a further say. 
 
 With ardour to my studies I've applied, 
 
 True, I know much, but would know all beside . 
 
 Faustus (alone). 
 
 How Hope doth never wholly leave the mind 
 That cleaveth unto vapidness e'ermore. 
 That digs with eager hand for ore, 
 And jubilates if it do earthworms find ! 
 
 Dare human voices of such sort here be 
 Where all about me spirits now did rest 
 
2 8 CI)e Cragrti) of dfaitSttiiS. 
 
 Yet ah ! for this time I thank thee 
 
 Of all the sons of earth the sorriest ! 
 
 For thou didst tear me from that desperate state 
 
 When all my senses did begin to reel : 
 
 Alas ! the vision was so giant great, 
 
 That like a dwarf indeed, I needs must feel ! 
 
 I, image of the Deity, that did 
 Seem to the mirror of etern' truth near, 
 ' Joy'd in myself in light so heavenly clear, 
 And of all earthy coil was rid ! 
 I, more than Cherub, did hope my free force 
 Through Nature's veins already now had flown ; 
 And in creating, Godlike joys I'd own. 
 Misjudged my powers. How must I for't atone ! 
 One word of thunder all aside did toss ! 
 
 I may not measure myself unto thee ; 
 
 E'en if the power I had to draw thee to me. 
 
 To hold thee captive I had no resource. 
 
 In that same blessed moment I 
 
 Did feel myself so small, so great ! 
 
 Thou didst repulse me cruelly 
 
 Back to mankind's uncertain state. 
 
 Who will me teach ? From what refrain ? 
 
 Shall I that impulse then obey ? 
 
 Alas, our deeds themselves, e'en as our pain. 
 
 Impede us ever in life's way. 
 
 To noblest aims, those by the soul received 
 Extraneous matters more and more adhere ; 
 
tlfjc Cvagttip of dfausitud. 29 
 
 When we've the good things of this world achieved 
 The better, fraud and error appear. 
 Our nobler feelings, that our life breath gave. 
 Are palsied 'neath the busy, earthy wave. 
 
 Though Phantasy did once in venturous flight, 
 
 Buoyed up with hope, stretch to eternity. 
 
 Yet now a little space sufficeth quite 
 
 When in time's whirlpool joys on joys wrecked be. 
 
 Care nestles deep at once within the heart. 
 
 And there doth work her hidden smart ; 
 
 Restless she rocks herself, desire and peace doth shake, 
 
 And, ever and anon, new masks doth take : 
 
 Sometimes as home and Court, as wife and child, she'll be, 
 
 As fire, as water, poison, steel, 
 
 Thou dreadst all things thou ne'er shalt feel. 
 
 And ever dost bewail what ne'er was reft from thee ! 
 
 The Gods I match not with ! I feel it, ah ! too deep ! 
 I match the worms, that through the dust do creep ! 
 For since in dust they live and have their nurture, 
 The wanderer's step destroys and gives sepulture. 
 
 It is with dust of hundred shelves, is't not ? 
 That these high walls do trammel me ; 
 With lumber, toys of thousand shapes, I wot. 
 Crushed in this mothy world I be. 
 Shall I find what I'm wanting here ? 
 Shall I forsooth, a thousand volumes read 
 To tell me men have fretted everywhere, 
 
30 €\)t CragcKj) of dfausliis. 
 
 With, here and there, a happy one, indeed ? 
 
 Why dost thou grin at me, thou empty skull, 
 
 Save that thy brain, like mine, was once tangled : 
 
 The light of day didst seek, and in the twilight dull, 
 
 Desiring truth, wast piteously misled. 
 
 Ye instruments, forsooth, do mock at me. 
 
 With cog and wheel and hoop and cock, 
 
 I faced the door, and ye should be the key, 
 
 Your wards are cunning, true, yet ope ye not the lock. 
 
 Mysterious, e'en in light of day. 
 
 Nature will not be ravish'd of her veil ; 
 
 And what she will not to thy spirit display, 
 
 By screw or lever to elicit thou wilt fail. 
 
 Thou antique garniture, ne'er used by me, 
 
 Art here because my father used ye all ; 
 
 Thou ancient parchment, thou hast been grimy 
 
 E'er since upon this desk the lamp burnt dim withal. 
 
 That little better had I squandered in the past 
 
 Than underneath that little encumbered here to groan 
 
 The heritage thou from thy father hast. 
 
 First win thou shouldst, ere thou dost own. 
 
 What one needs not, a burden grows at last ; 
 
 But what the moment brings, that can one use alone. 
 
 Yet why upon that spot do I then fix my sight ? 
 
 Is then that flask out yon a magnet to my eyen ? 
 
 Why breaketh o'er me suddenly sweet light ? 
 
 As when from a thick wood one cometh in moonshine. 
 
 I do salute thee, rarest phial ! Thence 
 I lift thee down with all due reverence. 
 
Ci)E €vagcl)u of dfau£itu£(. 31 
 
 In thee I honour mankind's art and skill, 
 
 Thou quintessence of all sweet sleeping draughts ! 
 
 Thou extract of the finer deadly crafts, 
 
 Now show unto thy master thy goodwill ! 
 
 I look on thee, my pain is mitigated ; 
 
 I handle thee, my struggles are abated ; 
 
 The spirit's flood-tide gradually ebbs away. 
 
 To the wide ocean driven out am I, 
 
 Beneath my feet the shining waters lie 
 
 Enticed to new shores by a new-born day. 
 
 A fiery chariot on light wings floats to 
 Me here. And I prepared feel I be 
 To press by a new course the aether through, 
 Unto new spheres of pure activity. 
 This lofty life, this heavenly delight 
 Thou, erst a worm, canst thou that ever earn ? 
 Yes, to the pleasant earthly Sun forthright 
 Thy back determinately turn ! 
 Dare manfully to fling apart the portals 
 That each one else would gladly slink him by ; 
 'Tis time by deeds to demonstrate that mortals 
 In manhood, even with the Gods may vie ! 
 There, not to tremble 'fore the dark abyss 
 Where Phantasy to self-wrought torture damns, 
 Towards that passage onward press 
 Around whose narrow mouth a whole Hell flames: 
 Decide to take this step with cheerfulness. 
 And though e'en thou dost risk falling to nothing- 
 ness ! 
 
32 3ri)E EvaacttD of jFaujitug. 
 
 And now come down, thou cup of crystal clear, 
 
 From out that ancient casket to me here. 
 
 On which for many a year, I have not thought ! 
 
 Thou at my father's festive board didst shine, 
 
 Didst solemn guests to mirth incline 
 
 When from the one unto the other brought. 
 
 The many skilful pictures, richly wrought. 
 
 The drinker had in rhyming verse t' explain, 
 
 And in one breath then all thy depth to drain. 
 
 With memories of youthful nights art fraught ! 
 
 Unto no neighbour shall I pass thee now. 
 
 My wit upon thy pictures no more show ; 
 
 A juice, doth drunken make in space most short. 
 
 Is here, with brown flood fills thy cavity, 
 
 By me prepared, chosen by me ; 
 
 Be my last drink now, from my whole soul be 
 
 A high and solemn greeting to the morning brought ! 
 
 {Puts the goblet to his lips.) 
 (Peal of bells and Choral Song.) 
 
 Chorus of Angels. 
 Christ is arisen ! 
 Joy to the mortal one 
 Whom erst did overcome 
 Insidious corruption, 
 Herited malison ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 What resonance deep, what clear and limpid sound 
 Doth force the goblet from my lips away ? 
 
Cte CragtaB of dfausittiiS. 33 
 
 Ye wide-mouthed bells, do ye now spread around 
 The tidings of glad Easter's opening day ? 
 Ye choirs, sing ye already the cheering song first heard 
 Long since from Angel's lips that night He was interred, 
 The pledge of a new pact for aye ? 
 
 Chorus of Women. 
 
 With costly essences 
 Unguents we made Him ; 
 We, ever faithful. His 
 Followers, there laid Him ; 
 In cerecloths did wind Him, 
 Bandages clean and fair ; 
 Alas ! we can't find Him, 
 Christ is no longer there ! 
 
 Chorus of Angels. 
 
 Christ has ascended ! 
 Happy the loving one 
 Who the ensnaring, 
 Wholesome, preparing 
 Trial has ended ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Why heavenly tones, in dust would ye. 
 So suave and strong, come me to seek ? 
 Ring there about where softer folk may be ; 
 Thy message hear I well, but faith in me is weak. 
 Miracle's child to Credulity ! 
 
 D 
 
34 <ZCf)f CragcBM of dTauiituS. 
 
 To gain the spheres, indeed, I cannot strive, 
 
 Whence those sweet tidings emanate. 
 
 And yet, from childhood up to them habituate, 
 
 They now do call me back again to life. 
 
 Erst did celestial love, with gentle kiss, 
 
 Rain on me in the Sabbath's solemn still ; 
 
 Then with presagings deep the bells seemed me to fill, 
 
 And prayer to me then was ecstatic bliss ! 
 
 A yearning, sweet, incomprehended. 
 
 Drove me to wander forth through wood and field, 
 
 And midst a thousand hot tears shed 
 
 I felt a world to me revealed ! 
 
 These strains did intimate the happy sports of youth. 
 
 The Feast of Peace and gladness free ; 
 
 And memory with these youthful feelings now, in sooth. 
 
 Doth from the last grave step hold me. 
 
 Oh, sound on still, thou dulcet heavenly strain ! 
 
 The tears flow now ! Earth hath me once again 
 
 Chorus of Youths. 
 
 He whom ye buried 
 Living, victorious, 
 Heavenwards from the dead 
 Risen hath glorious ! 
 He's nigh, eternal bliss 
 Creative joy is near ; 
 We, in our earthiness. 
 Still to our sorrow here ! 
 Hast left thy following 
 Behind Thee in weariness ! 
 
Cljt CrastUB of dFaufitus. 3 5 
 
 Alas ! we're sorrowing, 
 Lord, at Thy happiness ! 
 
 Chorus of Angels. 
 
 Christ is arisen 
 From earth's putridity. 
 From out thy prison, 
 Joyful, go free ! 
 Those by deeds glorying Him, 
 Love manifesting Him, 
 Brother-like feeding Him, 
 Wanderers preaching Him, 
 To these the Lord is nigh. 
 Happiness promising ; 
 To ye near by ! 
 
 s 2 
 
#utsiitje tfte CitL' (§ate. 
 
 (Pronunaders of all classes pass out.) 
 
 Several Apprentices. 
 Why choose ye to go there, I pray ? 
 
 Others. 
 We to the " Hunter " wend our way. 
 
 The first ones. 
 We to the Mill have chosen to go. 
 
 An Apprentice. 
 Nay, to the Watercourt I rede ye fare. 
 
 A second one. 
 Ay, but the way is irksome there. 
 
 The second ones. 
 What dost thou? 
 
 A THIRD ONE. 
 
 Go with the rest I trow. 
 
 A FOURTH. 
 
 Come up to Burythorpe, sure you'll find cheer, 
 The fairest wenches, and the best of beer, 
 And brawls, too, of the best are to be got. 
 
^iit tKrageKg of JfauiUig. 3 7 
 
 A FIFTH. 
 
 Thou all too lusty varlet. thou ! 
 Itcheth thy hide the third time now? 
 I will not go : i' faith I loathe the spot ! 
 
 Servant Wench. 
 Nay, nay, now back unto the town I go. 
 
 Another. 
 We're sure to find him stapding 'neath those poplar trees. 
 
 First Wench. 
 
 Much joy 'twill be for me, I trow ! 
 With thee he'll walk, then, if he is ; 
 Upon the green he'll dance with thee — 
 What boot thy junketings to me ? 
 
 The other. 
 
 He surely will not be alone : he said 
 
 He'd bring with him to-day that curly-head. 
 
 Students. 
 
 Oons ! how the buxom wenches stride ! 
 
 Come, brother, we must hie us to their side. 
 
 Pungent tobacco, and good strong old beer, 
 
 A maid too in her best, — thou'st all my fancy there ! 
 
 Citizens' Daughters. 
 
 Dost thou those proper youngsters see ? 
 In very sooth, 'tis a disgrace ! 
 
38 1!Ll)e Ci-agcBg of d/^auStuS. 
 
 Might have the very best, indeed, of society, 
 Yet after servant wenches race ! 
 
 Second Student (^o the first). 
 
 Nay, not so fast ! Look where there come a pair 
 
 Of really well-dressed girls behind ; 
 
 And one of them's my neighbour fair, 
 
 A girl to whom I'm much inclined. 
 
 They go their quiet gait, and still 
 
 Allow 's to join them i' the end they will. 
 
 First Student. 
 
 Good brother, no, constraint I can't abide ! 
 Quick ! or we'll lose our wild-fowl i' the press ! 
 The hand that Saturdays the broom doth guide, 
 On Sundays is the kindest to caress. 
 
 Citizen. 
 
 Nay, our new Mayor doth not by any means please me. 
 
 Installed, each day the more presuming's he. 
 
 What doth he for the Town then, eh ? 
 
 Doth it not every day get worse ? 
 
 Obedience he doth more enforce. 
 
 And more than ever we've to pay. 
 
 Beggar {sings). 
 Good gentlemen and ladies fair. 
 So rosy-cheeked, and rich of dress, 
 May't please ye look on me, and there 
 Ye'll see and pity my distress ! 
 
Ci&e Crngrti) of dfaufituS. 39 
 
 Let me not vainly sing ! — who may 
 Give alms, alone can happy be ! 
 Since all men celebrate this day, 
 May't be a! harvest day for me ! 
 
 Other Citizens. 
 Methinks there is nought rarer o' Sun and holiday 
 Than a discourse of war's alarms and war, 
 AVhen yon, in Turkey, out afar, 
 The people meet in deadly fray. 
 We i' the casement stand, our tankard drain, 
 And watch the painted vessels down the river glide ; 
 Then blessing peaceful again 
 Go home, content, at eventide. 
 
 Third Citizen. 
 Yea, neighbour, they may e'en do so for me, 
 And cleave their skulls, for aught I care. 
 And all may topsy-turvy be, 
 So long as things at home are as they were. 
 
 Old Woman {to the Citizens' daughters). 
 
 La ! we are smart ! a bevy fresh and rare ! 
 Who would not gaze his fill on you ? — 
 Be not so proud ! 'Tis well now, there ! 
 I can procure what ye may wish for, too. 
 
 Citizen's Daughter. 
 
 Come, Agatha ! I care not to be seen 
 With such old witches i' the open day. 
 
4° ®|)c CvagelJB of dfaustus. 
 
 In sooth she did — 'twas on St. Andrew's e'en- 
 My destined swain life-like display. 
 
 The other one. 
 
 Mine showed she i' the crystal sphere 
 Of soldier sort with saucy comrades-round ; 
 I look about, and seek him everywhere : 
 In vain ; as yet he can't be found. 
 
 Soldiers. 
 
 Towns well defended 
 With walls of size, 
 Maidens of scornful 
 Contemptuous guise, 
 May these be your prize ! 
 Venturous the venture, 
 Splendid the meed ! 
 
 At the sound of the trumpet 
 We list to its call. 
 Whether for pleasure 
 Or only to fall. 
 Sure 'tis a whirl ! 
 That is the life ! 
 Maidens and towns 
 Must yield in the strife. 
 Venturous the venture, 
 Splendid the meed ! 
 And the gay soldier 
 Away then doth speed ! 
 
Cbe CrastBi) of dFauStusJ. 4i 
 
 (Enter Faustus and Wagner.') 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 From ice are freed the streams and rills 
 
 By the quickening glance of spring-time sweet ; 
 
 The vale grows green, — Hope's emblem meet : 
 
 Old Winter, weak with age's ills, 
 
 Doth to the rugged mounts retreat. 
 
 Thence sendeth he, as he flies, in spite,. 
 
 Icy grains in impotent showers, 
 
 Streaking the verdant plains with yvhite ; 
 
 But the Sun no trace of white endures. 
 
 Everywhere things do strive and grow, 
 
 Everything would with colour glow ; 
 
 Nathless, no flowers the picture grace. 
 
 The many-hued crowd do take their place. 
 
 Turn thee about, and from this height 
 
 Back to the town direct thy sight : 
 
 Forth from the hollow darkling gate 
 
 A bright-hued swarm doth scintillate, 
 
 Each revels in the Sun this day. 
 
 Our Lord's uprising honour they. 
 
 For they themselves are new arisen. 
 
 From lowly dwelling chambers damp, 
 
 From trade and manufacturing prison, 
 
 From roof-tree's, and from gable's cramp. 
 
 Away from constringed streets they flee, 
 
 From church's venerable night, 
 
 All are brought here into light. 
 
 How nimbly doth the crowd — but see. 
 
42 Cf)e CrageWj? of dfausitus. 
 
 O'er fields and gardens spread them there ! 
 O'er its length and breadth, what diversity 
 Of wherries gay the stream doth bear ! 
 And now the last skiff, filled as though 
 It needs must sink, departed hath ; 
 Still coloured garments, dot-like, show 
 Out on the mountain's distant path. 
 E'en now the village sports I hear. 
 The people's true elysium's there, 
 Both great and small shout happily ; 
 I'm human here, can dare to be ! 
 
 Wagner, 
 Doctor, with you to walk I'm proud, 
 It do.th me profit bring beside ; 
 Nathless, alone, I'd not mix in the crowd, 
 For rough vulgarity I can't abide. 
 This fiddling, skittle-playing, brawling, 
 Is a right hateful sound to me ; 
 As beings by fiends possessed, they're caterwauling. 
 And deem it pleasure, song to be ! 
 
 Peasants beneath the Lime tree. 
 Dance ajid Song. 
 The shepherd for the dance was dressed 
 In bands and wreath and coloured vest 
 And bonny were his things. 
 And round the lime, 'twas crowded there, 
 And all did dance as crazed they were, 
 Heyda, heydey. 
 Hey tra la, heyda, hey. 
 
Cl)e CragtKw of Jfrnitus. 43 
 
 So went the fiddle-strings. 
 
 He hastily pressed in the throng, 
 
 And jogged a maiden midst among 
 
 With his elbow free ; 
 
 The saucy wench turned round and said : 
 
 Thou art indeed a dunderhead ! 
 
 Heyda, heydey, 
 
 Hey tra la, heyda, hey, 
 
 Be not unmannerly ! 
 
 'Twas nimbly footed in the ring ; 
 
 To right, and then to left they fling, 
 
 And every petticoat swung out, 
 
 And they grew red, and they grew warm, 
 
 And stayed, to breathe them, arm in arm, 
 
 Heyda, heydey. 
 
 Hey tra la, heyda, hey. 
 
 Their arms their waists about. 
 
 Make not so bold ! How many a swain 
 
 Hath left his sweetheart to complain 
 
 He'd lied, and did betray her ! 
 
 Yet still he flattered her aside. 
 
 And from the lime, rang far and wide : 
 
 Heyda, heydey, 
 
 Hey tra la, heyda, hey. 
 
 Shouts, and the fiddle-player ! 
 
 An Old Peasant. 
 
 Sir Doctor, this is kind of you, 
 That you disdain us not to-day, 
 
44 ®5e Ci-agettg of dTauiStuiS. 
 
 And one so learned midst the throng 
 Of common folk doth take his way. 
 Receive then, here, our fairest cup 
 That we anew with drink have filled ; 
 I bring it with the hearty wish 
 That not alone your thirst be stilled, 
 The tale of drops it doth contain 
 Be added to your days again ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 I take the quickening draught, and link 
 My thanks to all — your health I drink ! 
 
 (The people collect round in a circle.^ 
 
 Old Peasant. 
 
 Marry, well thought on, so it is, 
 That at our revels you attend ; ' 
 For 'mongst us formerly you have, 
 In days of evil, been our friend. 
 Full many a one stands living here 
 Your father in the end hath made 
 Whole from the burning fever's heat, 
 What time the pestilence he stayed. 
 And you, too, yet a stripling then, 
 In every sick man's house did go : 
 Full many a corpse they carried forth. 
 But you came scathless out, I trow. 
 Full many an ordeal you did prove : 
 The helper holp was from above ! 
 
€{)e Crastttu of dFaustujJ. 45 
 
 All. 
 
 Health to the well-proved man we pray, 
 That yet for long he help us may ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Before the Being above us bend. 
 Who teacheth us, and aid doth send. 
 
 (He and Wagner pass oii ) 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 Illustrious man ! what must thy feelings be 
 
 At the respect of all this multitude ! 
 
 Oh, happy who, with power endued. 
 
 Can use it so productively ! 
 
 The sire to his son point thee out would ; 
 
 Each one inquires, and presses, hurries. 
 
 The fiddle stops, the dancer tarries ; 
 
 Dost thou walk, on, they stand in row. 
 
 And in the air their bonnets fly : 
 
 A little more, and they would their knees bow 
 
 As if the Host were passing by ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Go but a few steps further, up to yonder stone, 
 We will upon our ramble rest us there. 
 There sat I often, wrapt in thought, alone. 
 And tormented myself with fast and prayer. 
 In hope most rich, with faith impressed. 
 With tears and sighs and hands enwoven 
 
46 t:J)f Eragttt^ of dFaufitus!. 
 
 The plague's term I had thought to wrest 
 
 From the Omnipotent of heaven. 
 
 But mockery seems the masse's good opinion ! 
 
 Oh, couldst thou in my inmost bosom read, 
 
 Thou'dst see how little sire and son 
 
 Deserving are of all this meed ! 
 
 My father honest was, of sombre mood, 
 
 Who on the natural laws, and their holy array, 
 
 Straightforwardly, nathless in his own way, 
 
 In all capriciousness would brood ; 
 
 Who, in the company of adepts, 
 
 In laboratory dark enclosed, 
 
 After innumerable receipts 
 
 Would mix together things opposed. 
 
 Thus the Red Lion' was, the bold to woo. 
 
 In tepid bath, to Lily" wedded there ; 
 
 And both, then, in the open fire, unto 
 
 Another bridal chamber ' forthwith worried were. 
 
 Did then, in hues diversified, 
 
 The Young Queen * happen in the glass. 
 
 Here was the medicine ; the patients died. 
 
 And no one asked who healed was ? 
 
 So we, with this hellish elixir. 
 
 Amidst these vales and mountains here 
 
 Worse havoc than the plague did cause. 
 
 To thousands I myself the poison gave ; 
 
 They drooped ; and I must bear that they've 
 
 For the bold murderer but applause ! 
 
 ' Cinnabar. ^ Antimony. ' Retort. 
 
 '' The sublimated product. 
 
€l)c Cragtaj) of ^anitug. 47 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 How can you thereby grieved be ? 
 
 Acts not an honest man his part 
 
 If he doth strictly carry out the art 
 
 To him bequeathed, conscientiously ? 
 
 If thou reverest thy father as a youth, 
 
 Gladly his teaching thou'lt receive ; 
 
 As man, when thou enlarg'st the bounds of truth. 
 
 Thy son may yet still higher things achieve. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 He's happy who can hope, indeed, 
 
 That he may rise out of this guileful sea ! 
 
 That which one knows not, e'en that doth one need ; 
 
 And what one knows, can never useful be ! 
 
 But let us not the beauteous hours allow 
 
 By such like sorrows to embitter ; 
 
 Mark i' the evening sunshine how 
 
 The green-embowered cots do glitter. 
 
 It sinks and fades, the day is now o'erdone, 
 
 Yonder it hurries, and new life doth make. 
 
 Oh, that I had now wings to soar upon ! 
 
 And follow, follow ever in its wake. 
 
 I'd at my feet see the world, still. 
 
 Bathed in eternal evening beams ; 
 
 Each valley quiet, all lit up each hill. 
 
 The silver brooklet flowing to gilt streams. 
 
 Not bonded in would then my God-like flight 
 
 By rugged mount and all its chasms be. 
 
48 Cfje tJErageKD of JFauStixs. 
 
 Already doth, with its warm bays^ the sea 
 
 Show itself my astonished sight. 
 
 But now, at length, the God appears to sink ; 
 
 An impulse new doth wake my mind ; 
 
 I hurry forth his eterne light to drink, 
 
 The day before me, and the night behind. 
 
 The heavens above me, and under me the sea. 
 
 Oh, lovely dream, meanwhile it fades away ! 
 
 Ah, to the spirit wings, so lightly may 
 
 Not corporal wings thereto consorted be ! 
 
 Yet in each person 'tis inbred 
 
 That his sensations on and upward urge. 
 
 When lost above i' the blue space o'erhead 
 
 With trilling lay the lark doth surge : 
 
 When, on outstretched pinions, soars 
 
 The eagle o'er steep pine-clad height ; 
 
 And over lakes, and over moors, 
 
 The crane doth urge her homeward flight. 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 Myself, by times, some whimsies have gone through 
 
 But never yet felt raptures such as you. 
 
 The view soon tires of fields and foliage ; 
 
 Ne'er will I envy any bird its wing : 
 
 For mental joys, that is another thing : 
 
 From book to book, and page to page. 
 
 Then do the winter nights grow bland and fair 
 
 AVarmed all thy limbs with life in ecstasy ; 
 
 And ah, unrollfest thou a worthy parchment fair, 
 
 Then the whole heavens do descend to thee ! 
 
€^t CragtSg of dTaiiiStuti. 49 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Only the one bent doth thy mind compass ; 
 
 The other never learn to wit ! 
 
 Two souls do dwell within my breast, alas ! 
 
 And each would from the other be unknit. 
 
 The one doth hold, in sturdy lovingness, 
 
 TJnto the world, with organs all afire , 
 
 The other riseth, mighty from darkness, 
 
 To the abodes of high desire. 
 
 Oh, if Spirits i' the air exist, 
 
 Hovering 'twixt earth and heaven, holding sway. 
 
 Let them come down now, from their golden mist 
 
 To new and brighter life bear me away ! 
 
 Yea, were there but a magic mantle mine. 
 
 That would to foreign lands me bear, 
 
 Than costliest array more precious 'twere ; 
 
 E'en for a king's, I would it not resign ! 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 Do not invoke the well-known hordes that fill 
 
 And .through the misty regions o'erspread are ; 
 
 From every quarter of the world, peril , 
 
 In thousand ways for man prepare : 
 
 Out from the North the sharp-toothed Spirit doth fly 
 
 Upon thee, with his arrow-pointed tongues ; 
 
 Then from the East they come, and parch thee dry. 
 
 And nurture them upon thy lungs. 
 
 And when, from out the desert, sent by Noon, 
 
 They fire on fire do pile upon thy crown. 
 
JO ULiit CragtaD of dfaustujf. 
 
 The West doth then refreshing swarms bring, — soon 
 
 Thyself and fields and pastures all to drown ! 
 
 Gladly they list, for mischief gladly yare. 
 
 Obey us gladly to wile us thereby ; 
 
 They do pretend, sent us from heaven they are, 
 
 And lisp like angels when they lie. 
 
 But let us go, the world's grown grey withal, 
 
 The air grows cool; the vapours fall. 
 
 One first at eventide one's house doth prize. 
 
 What dost thou gaze at, with astonished eyes ? 
 
 What can possess thee i' the gloaming so ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Seest that black hound that doth through corn and stub- 
 ble go ? 
 
 Wagner. 
 'Tis long since I have seen him ; he seemed nought to me. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Mark straightly, what dost hold the beast to be ? 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 Why, e'en a poodle, that after his wont 
 His master's track doth harry out. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Dost mark how he doth ever nearer hunt. 
 In snaky circles wide, us round about ? 
 And, if I err not, swirls of fire doth he 
 Upon his path behind him leave. 
 
Cl&e Cragrt^ of jTausitusf. 5 1 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 Nought but a poodle black, indeed I see ; 
 It may be that your eyes do you deceive, 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Me seemeth that he magic meshes slight 
 Doth draw, as future fetters, round our feet. 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 Uncertain I do see him caper round in fright 
 
 That in his master's stead two strangers he doth meet. 
 
 Faustus. 
 The circle narrows ; he's now near. 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 Thou seest a dog ; there is no spectre there : 
 He growls, misdoubts, doth on his belly lay, 
 He wags his tail : — all doggy way, 
 
 Faustus. 
 Come here, give us thy company ! 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 A droll and pleasant beast it be ! 
 Dost thou stand still, he'll vigil keep ; 
 Dost speak to him, then will he on thee leap ; 
 Lose something, and he will it bring ; 
 In water, for thy stick he'll spring. 
 E 2 
 
%t)e STvagtag of dFatistus. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Thou'rt right ; indeed I do not find a sign 
 Of Spirit in the beast ; all training 'tis in fine. 
 
 Wagner. 
 A dog, if well brought uphe be, 
 Will e'en a learned man fancy. 
 Yea, altogether he'll deserve thy love ; 
 Will an apt scholar of the students i)rove. 
 
 ( 77iey go in at the City 
 
jfaiigtusi* Mwa^* 
 
 {Enter Faustus with the Poodle.) 
 
 Now lie behind me field and mead 
 Hid in the shades of night opaque 
 And in expectant holy dread 
 The better soul in u^ doth wake. 
 All wild desires are drowned in sleep, 
 With every deed of violence ; 
 While love of man doth vigil keep 
 And love of God doth fill the sense. 
 
 Be quiet, poodle ! run not to and fro. 
 
 Why at the threshold sniffing be ? 
 
 Lay thee behind the stove, and, lo, 
 
 My rarest cushion I'll give thee ! 
 
 As along the mountain roads didst fare, 
 
 With gambols and bounds didst amuse of thy best ; 
 
 For that thou shalt have all my care. 
 
 As a welcome quiet guest. 
 
 Ah ! when the lamp is burning bright 
 Again within our chamber low, 
 Then in our bosom is' there light. 
 For hearts that themselves tfuly know. 
 
54 ^{jt Cragrtj) of dTauiStus. 
 
 Reason again begins to speak, 
 And Hope to blossom doth begin ; 
 One yearns the stream of life to seek : 
 Ay, to the fount of life to win ! 
 
 Nay, growl not poodle ! with the sacred tone, 
 
 In which my whole soul now is drowned, 
 
 Attuneth not thy beastly sound. 
 
 We are accustomed, that what is unknown 
 
 To men, that they despise ; 
 
 Before the good and beauteous groan. 
 
 That grievous is to them often : 
 
 Wilt thou, a dog, like them growl then ? 
 
 But, ah ! already I feel, e'en with the best of will, 
 
 Content no more doth from my heart distil. 
 
 Ah, why then must the stream so soon run dry, 
 
 And we in drouth condemned to lie ? 
 
 I have so much of it gone through ! 
 
 This want may yet be contervailed withal. 
 
 AVe learn to prize the supernatural, 
 
 We long for revelation true. 
 
 Which nowhere shows more excellent 
 
 And fair than in the Testament. 
 
 Into the codex I am- moved 
 
 To look. Wiih honest purpose shall 
 
 For once the blessed original 
 
 Translate into my mother tongue beloved. 
 
 (He opens a volume and sets to ■work.') 
 'Tis written : " In the beginning was the Word." 
 
Clje CrageUp of dfaiistus!. 55 
 
 I stick already, — who may help afford ? 
 
 Impossible 'tis mere breath so high to prize ; 
 
 I must translate it otherwise. 
 
 If by my spirit I'm enlightened aught, 
 
 'Tis writ : " In the beginning there was thought." 
 
 Bethink thee well this primal line. 
 
 For fear thy pen too fast to go incline : 
 
 Is it then Thought doth guide all and create? 
 
 " In the beginning was Force " — should it be translate. 
 
 Yet even as this version I have writ, 
 
 A something warns me I'll not hold to it. 
 
 My spirit helps me ! All at once I've rede. 
 
 And eased I write : " In the beginning was Deed." 
 
 An I must share the room with thee. 
 
 Poodle, let thy howling be, 
 
 Thy yelping cease ! 
 
 A comrade that disturbs my peace 
 
 I cannot tolerate me near. 
 
 One of us two here 
 
 Must from the chamber clear. 
 
 Though thy welcome loath .to withdraw I be, 
 
 The door lies open, thy course is free. 
 
 But what must I descry ? 
 
 Can this happen naturally? 
 
 Is't verity, or phantom show ? 
 
 My dog in length and breadth doth grow ! 
 
 Mighty he doth uprise ! 
 
 That figure is no canine guise ! 
 
 What spectre have I harboured here ? 
 
$6 Clje CragcUp of jfausitus. 
 
 A river-horse he doth appear, 
 
 With horrid tushes, and eyes that glow 
 
 Ah, I do thee know ! 
 
 For such mongrel sons of hell 
 
 The key of Solomon is well ! 
 
 Spectres (t'n the Corridors). 
 
 Within lies captive one ; 
 
 Stay without and follow none. 
 
 As a fox in snare. 
 
 Hell's old lynx is quaking there. 
 
 But take heed ! 
 
 Hover, hover, to and fro. 
 
 Above, below ! 
 
 And again he hath him freed. 
 
 Aid him can ye. 
 
 Let him not be ! 
 
 He hath done us all 
 
 Much pleasure withal. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Imprimis the fell beast to meet. 
 
 The spell of the four I must repeat : 
 Salamander shall burn. 
 Undine flow clear. 
 Sylph disappear, 
 Kobold to work turn ! 
 
 Who doth the lore 
 
 Of the elements ignore. 
 
 Their potency 
 
C]&e CtrageKn of dTauiStuS, 57 
 
 And quality, 
 He may not hope 
 With spirits to cope. 
 
 Avaunt thee in flame. 
 
 Salamander ! 
 
 Plashing melt in stream, 
 
 Undine ! 
 
 In meteor splendour shine. 
 
 Sylph ! 
 
 Do thy hussey work of stealth, 
 
 Incubus I Incubus ! 
 
 Show thyself, and end it thus ! 
 Of the four not one lies 
 In the creature's disguise. 
 He lies quite still, and at me grins ; 
 As yet, I have not made him wince. 
 Spells shalt thou hear 
 Of greater fear : 
 
 An thou, comrade, be 
 
 Of hell's progeny, 
 
 Then look on this sign. 
 
 Before which inchne 
 
 The sombre band. 
 With bristling hair it doth expand ! 
 
 Creature of hell, 
 
 Canst thou Him spell ? 
 
 The unbegotten One, 
 
 Him, the unspoken One, 
 
 Through Heaven knowen One, 
 
 Wantonly piercfed One ? 
 
S8 Cijc EragtttM of jfsLttStuS. 
 
 Behind the stove there banned, 
 
 It elephant-like doth expand ; 
 
 All the chamber it doth fill ; 
 
 As a mist 'twould melt away. 
 
 Rise not to the roof, I will ! 
 
 At thy master's feet thee lay ! 
 
 Thou see'st, 'tis not in vain I threat, 
 
 With heavenly fires I'll sear thee yet ! 
 
 Await not the might 
 
 Of the threefold-glowing light ! 
 
 Await not the might 
 
 That of all my art the strongest ! 
 
 Mephistophiles (as the mist subsides, steps forward 
 from behind the stove, in the guise of a wandering 
 scholar'). 
 
 Why this ado ? What is your worship's hest ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 This was the nucleus of the brute ? 
 
 A travelling scholar ? Faith, it makes me laugh. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Your learned worship humbly I salute ; 
 Indeed you made me sweat enough ! 
 
 FAusTas. 
 How nam'st thyself? 
 
Clje CragcKg ol dfauatug. 59 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 The question seemeth small 
 For one who doth mere " Word " so much despise ! 
 Of all appearance sceptical, 
 But in the gist of Being pries. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Of gentry like you one may the nature 
 Read mostly in their nomenclature, 
 Which, all too plainly, when you are addressed 
 As " Slander," ' " Lord of Flies," ^ " Destroyer/' = 's ex- 
 pressed. 
 Well then, who art thou ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 A part of the power that would 
 Ever do evil, and yet doth never aught but good. 
 
 Faustus. 
 What is't this riddle saying of thine implies ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 The Spirit am I, that aye denies : 
 
 And rightly so, since all that is created* 
 
 Deserves to be annihilated. 
 
 Wherefore, were nought create, 'twere better. 
 
 Therefore all those things ye. aver 
 
 Sin, Ruin, in short. Evil to be, 
 
 The natural element is to me. 
 
 ' Devil, Diabolus, Satan. ^ Beelzebub. 
 
 ^ Abaddon, Asmodeus, Apollyon. 
 
€l)t tCrasfUj) of dfaustus. 
 
 Faust us. 
 
 Thou call'st thyself a part, yet whole thou stand's! 
 before me ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 The simple truth I tell to thee : 
 
 E'en though mankind this little foolish world 
 
 For an entirety oft hold, 
 
 Part of a part am I, that once was all indeed, 
 
 A part of Darkness am I, that which Day did breed 
 
 O'erweening Day, that now 'gainst mother Night 
 
 Disputes her place, and all her ancient right ! 
 
 And yet he'll ne'er succeed ! — for strive he as he will. 
 
 To Matter is he bonded still ; 
 
 Radiates froip matter, matter beautifies ; 
 
 Yet matter doth its course impede ; 
 
 Wherefore, I hope, 'twon't last, indeed : 
 
 And 'twill be with all matter lost likewise. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Now, I thy worthy business wot : 
 Destroy' in gross since thou canst not. 
 In minor matters hast begun, 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 And, sooth to say, there's not much to be done. 
 That which to nought opposbd is. 
 This something, this massy world I wis 
 
C|)e CragcaD o£ dTausltiis. 6t 
 
 Whatever I would undertake 
 
 I may no impress on it make. 
 
 With waves, storms, earthquakes, fires, I fill 
 
 The sea and land, — they lie unharmed still. 
 
 Then that cursed brood, the beasts and mankind loo, 
 
 Against them I can make no head : 
 
 How many have I burifed 
 
 Yet fresh blood ever circulates anew ! 
 
 And so't goes on, — 'twould drive one to despair ! 
 
 Meanwhile, by earth, by water, and by air 
 
 Myriads of germs developed are 
 
 In wet and dry, and warm and cold : 
 
 Did I not fire at my disposal hold. 
 
 No place for me apart there were ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 So thou'dst oppose the Active Cause, , 
 The ever-creative healing might. 
 With thy cold-blooded demon-claws. 
 In ever-impuissant spite ? 
 Some other purpose seek, more fit, 
 Thou wondrous son of Chaos, thou ! 
 
 Mephistophiles 
 In sooth, I will consider it 
 The next time we do meet enow. 
 At present, I'd have thy leave to go. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Why thou dost ask, I fail to see. 
 
62 Wt)e CragfUD of jTau^tug. 
 
 Now that I have thee learned to know, 
 Whene'er thou wilt, mayest visit me. 
 Here is the window, there the door, 
 The flue, too, 's ope to thee, no doubt. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 'Tis true ; and I might walk me off, but for 
 A slight thing that doth bar my passage out : 
 The magic figure on thy sill. 
 
 Faustus. 
 The pentagram doth stop thy way ? 
 Nay, tell me then, thou son of hell, 
 If that a bar be, how didst enter, pray ? 
 How could a spirit like thee be duped ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Regard it well, it is not rightly looped. 
 
 That corner there, the one that points without, 
 
 Is, as thou see'stj misjoined a bit. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Chance there hath made a happy hit. 
 'Twas thus thy capture came about ? 
 'Twas purely due to chance therefore ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Nought did the poodle mark as he passed through the 
 
 door : 
 The thing doth otherwise now appear ; 
 The devil cannot go from here. 
 
€^e Cragrtj) of iffnixitui. 63 
 
 •Faustus. 
 Then why not through the casement fly? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 It is a rule 'mongst ghosts and devilry, 
 
 That they must leave the way that they did come before ; 
 
 The first we're free to choose, the second we are not. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Has Hell itself its ordinances got ? 
 
 This likes me well : it seems a pact may be, 
 
 And doubtless binding, with you gentlefolk ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Thou shalt have all from us thou hast bespoke, 
 
 And nought extorted back from thee. 
 
 Yet 'tis not lightly understood ; 
 
 We will discuss it by-and-by. 
 
 At present, I most earnestly 
 
 Of thee my leave of absence would. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Another minute, prithee, yet remain. 
 Till something goodly first thou sayest. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Let me go now ; eftsoon I'll come again, 
 When cross-examine me thou mayest. 
 
64 Ci)e tlragfttn of dfau^tus. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 It was not I did thee bewray, 
 
 The web by thee thyself was sought ; 
 
 The devil he may hold who may ; 
 
 A second time he's not so lightly caught ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 An thou dost will it so, prepared am I 
 For company with thee here to stay : 
 But with this postulate, I may try 
 My arts to pass the time in worthy way. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 I'd see it gladly, — thou art free 
 To conjure : let it pleasing be. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 My friend, thou shalt in one hour find 
 More solid aliment for thy mind 
 Than in a year dost ordinarily. 
 All that the tender spirits sing. 
 The dainty images they bring, 
 These are no empty sorceries : 
 The sense of smell is gratified, 
 Then is the palate satisfied 
 The feeling last entranced is. 
 No preparation doth it need ; 
 We are together, — to proceed ; 
 
Efft Cragrtig of JFanitnS. 6$ 
 
 Spirits. 
 Vanish, ye darkling 
 Arches above ! 
 Let tender blue 
 ^ther peep through, 
 Gladdening here ! 
 Let the cloud mass 
 To nothingness pass ! 
 Each twinkling star, 
 That be mild suns afar, 
 O'er us appear ! 
 Ye children divine 
 In beauty sublime, 
 Waveringly leaning, 
 Hover before, 
 Yearning o'ei-weening. 
 Follow them o'er ! 
 And their array 
 Streaming out by the way, 
 O'er the country doth play. 
 Doth play o'er the arbours ; 
 Where lovers tender. 
 In ecstasy drowned. 
 Life-long pledges render. 
 Arbour by arbour ! 
 Vines bud from the ground. 
 Massy grapes harbour. 
 In the vats pour, 
 O'er the press streaming o'er. 
 Gushing in fine 
 
66 C]^e CragtKB of dTattStus. 
 
 In runlets of wine. 
 Purling through clear 
 Precious stones here 
 Onward it fares, 
 Leaving the hills, 
 Swelling to meres. 
 E'en as it wills ; 
 Green hillocks among, 
 Where the feathered throng 
 Joying sip and fly on, 
 On, towards the sun, 
 Onwards their flight, 
 Still on they advance^ 
 Where the Islands of Light 
 On the waves ever dance, 
 Where we the choir 
 Happy songs hear. 
 Or o'er the mead 
 The gay dancers heed. 
 Where i' the fresh air 
 They drive away care ; 
 Others their way 
 O'er the mountains do take ; 
 To swim some essay 
 O'er the depths of the lake ; 
 Others do soar ; 
 All are seeking for 
 The Life ; and the far 
 Enchanting star 
 Of blessed grace. 
 
Wi)t Cragetrj) of dTaufltus. 67 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 He sleeps ! 'Tis well, ye airy tender youth ! 
 
 Ye have him fairly lulled, in sooth 
 
 For this performance am I in your debt. 
 
 No proper wight art thou to hold the Devil as yet ! 
 
 Ensorcel him with sweetest phantasy ! 
 
 Sink him in deep illusion's sea ! 
 
 Yet, that the door from magic may be freed, 
 
 A rat's tooth's service I do need. 
 
 I want no lengthy sorcery, 
 
 One moveth here close by, 'twill hear me presently : 
 
 The sovereign lord of rats and mice, 
 
 Of flies and frogs, and bugs and lice, 
 
 Commandeth thee to stand before, 
 
 And at the door-sill, here, to gnaw, 
 
 As soon as oil upon't he drops. 
 
 Lo ! out already one there hops ! 
 
 Now quick to work, the point that hath me stayed, 
 
 Upon the edge, in front, is laid : 
 
 Another bite, and, lo, 'tis done. 
 
 Now, Faustus, dream thou on, until we meet anon ! 
 
 Faustus (awaking). 
 
 Am I deceived once again? 
 Do thus the throng of Spirits disappear 
 That made me dream I saw the Devil then, 
 And that a poodle 'scaped me here ? 
 
 F 2 
 
Faustus, Mephistophiles. 
 
 Faustus 
 One knocks. Come in ! Who still would fret me^ pray ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 'Tis I. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Come in ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 That must thou three times say. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Come in, then ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 So thou pleasest me. 
 We shall, I hope, accord us well ; 
 For I, thy megrims to dispel, 
 Am come as youth of high degree, 
 In gold-embroidered scarlet vest 
 And weighty silken mantle dressed, 
 
Cije Cvagelii) of dFattiStufi. 69 
 
 My bonnet with a cock's plume dight 
 And with a long and pointed glaive. 
 And, I'd advise thee, do thou straight 
 Just such another costume have. 
 That thou, from every trammel free, 
 Mayst learn what life can offer thee. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 In any dress, indeed, the misery 
 
 Of this cribbed life I'd feel alway ; 
 
 Too old am I for nought but play, 
 
 Too young without a wish to be. 
 
 What can the world give me to gain ? 
 
 Abstain thou shalt, thou shalt abstain ! 
 
 Such is the everlasting song 
 
 That in the ears of all men sings. 
 
 Goes on throughout our whole life long. 
 
 And every hour hoarser rings ! 
 
 Yea, every morning I wake up aghast — 
 
 The bitter tears have almost run — 
 
 To see the day that for me, when 'tis past, 
 
 No single wish hath satisfied, not one ! 
 
 That e'en the dawn of each desire 
 
 With carping caprice weakeneth, 
 
 And in my breast the creative fire 
 
 With thousand life-mocks hindereth ! 
 
 And I must, also, when the night-shades close, 
 
 Upon my bed a-trembling lie, 
 
 E'en there is vouchsafed no jepose, 
 
 Wild visions still me terrify. 
 
70 tSL'ift Exaqtttv of dfaustus. 
 
 The God that in my bosom dwells 
 
 My inmost soul may deeply stir, 
 
 That God that, in me, every force compels, 
 
 Outside me, cannot move a hair. 
 
 And thus existence groweth a despite ; 
 
 I wish for death, and life I hate outright ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Yet, nathless, death a welcome guest is never — quite. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Oh, happy he, who round his brow, in blaze 
 Of victory, the gory crown may bind ! 
 Breathed in the giddy dance's maze, 
 Doth in a maiden's arms him find ! 
 Oh, that before the lofty Spirit's might 
 Entranced, ecstatic, ravished, I had sunk ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 And yet, a some one on a certain night 
 There was, left a brown juice undrunk. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Thou lov'st eaves-dropping, as it seemeth me. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Omniscient am I not, though much is known to me. 
 
 Faustus. 
 If that a sweet-remembered chime 
 Me from the horrid turmoil drew. 
 
CIjc CragtUn of jFauStuS. 7 1 
 
 'Twas echoes from a happier time 
 
 Beguiled my childish residue. 
 
 Now cursed be all that doth the soul 
 
 In cozenage and juggle wind. 
 
 And in this wretched dungeon hole 
 
 In dazing flattery leave confined 1 
 
 Cursed be, 'fore all, the high intent 
 
 Whereby the mind itself restrains ! 
 
 Cursed be of seemingness the glint 
 
 That all our senses still constrains ! 
 
 Cursed be all that in dream beguiles 
 
 Of fame and deathless name the sleight ! 
 
 Cursed be possession's flattering wiles, 
 
 As wife and child, plough, serving-wight ! 
 
 Cursed be Mammon, when with treasure 
 
 He doth to venturous deeds incite ! 
 
 Accursed, too,_wherLfor idle pleasure. 
 
 The pillow he doth spread aright ! 
 
 Cursed be the balmy juice of grapes ! 
 
 Curse Love, — that highest ecstasy ! 
 
 Curse Faith ! Curse Hope ! and cursed 'fore^dll 
 
 The rest of them may Patience be ! 
 
 Chorus of Spirits (invisible). 
 
 Woe, woe, 
 
 Thou hast it destroyed, 
 
 This beautiful world ! 
 
 With thy powerful hand, 
 
 In ruin 'tis hurled ! 
 
 A demigod hath 't torn ! 
 
72 Ci^t CragtlJi) of jFauiStus. 
 
 The fragments are borne 
 
 Away by us to nothingness. 
 
 We mourn 
 
 The beauty that's done. 
 
 Mighty 
 
 Earth's son, 
 
 More sightly 
 
 Build it again ! 
 
 Build it thy breast within. 
 
 Begin 
 
 A new career. 
 
 With spirit clear : 
 
 A new refrain 
 
 On't sing ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 The little ones these be 
 
 Of my familj"-. 
 
 Hear how to wish and deed 
 
 Aid wise they rede ! 
 
 To the world's amplitude 
 
 From thy solitude, 
 
 Where stilled's senpe and bloody 
 
 Entice thee they would. 
 Sport no more with thy misery. 
 That, like a vulture, feeds upon thy heart ; 
 Thou'lt feel, e'en in the vilest company. 
 That thou a man 'mongst mankind art. 
 Yet 'tis not meant, I trow. 
 To thrust thee amidst the pack ; 
 
C})e €rngctJ» ol dFausJtuS. 73 
 
 Though high estate I lack, 
 Yet joint with me if thou 
 Thy steps through life wilt take, 
 Then will I gladly make 
 Myself thine, instantly. 
 Thy comrade will I be, 
 And if thou wouldst it have, 
 I'll be thy servant, be thy slave ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 And what return for't must I to thee make ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 For that a respite long doth still exist; 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Nay, nay, the Devil is an egotist, 
 And doth not lightly, for God's sake, 
 Outsiders to their need assist. 
 Speak out your terms, for perilous 
 Is such a serving-wight within the house. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Unto thy service here I will me bind. 
 Nor pause or rest on any sign from thee ; 
 And should we yonder ourselves find. 
 Then thou shalt do the same for me. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 That yonder is but little matter : 
 Shouldst thou this world in pieces shatter, 
 
74 2C]^t CragcUg of dFauStus. 
 
 The other might have being then, 
 
 'Tis from this earth that all my joys arise, 
 
 And this sun shines on all ijiy miseries ; 
 
 Could I divorce me from them anywise, 
 
 Then let what will and may happen. 
 
 I care not any more to hear 
 
 If men hereafter love or hate, 
 
 Or whether there be in that sphere 
 
 A higher or a lower state. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 In this mood thou mayst it essay. 
 Bind thyself then, and at no distant day, 
 With pleasure shalt thou my arts see : 
 What no man yet beheld, I'll show to thee. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Poor Devil ! what wouldst thou present ? 
 
 Was human spirit as 'tis fraught with high intent. 
 
 E'er grasped by such as thee ? 
 
 Sooth, food hast thou, but without satiety. 
 
 And also gold, that restlessly, 
 
 Like to quicksilver, from the fingers runneth ; 
 
 A game at which one never winneth ; 
 
 A lass, who even on my breast 
 
 My neighbour seeks with ogles to ensnare ; 
 
 Honour, that joy divinely blessed. 
 
 Which like a meteor fades to air. 
 
 Show me the fruit, that ere 'tis plucked doth rot. 
 
 And trees that daily new clothed are with green. 
 
€i)t €rase»s of dTauntuji. 75 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Such a commission frights me not, 
 
 Such treasures I can get, I ween. 
 
 Yet, my good friend, the time is drawing nigh 
 
 When we at ease may feed on something good. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 If e'er on bed of sloth in peace I rest me should, 
 
 Then may I on that instant die ! 
 
 Canst e'er with cajolery beguile 
 
 That I myself e'er pleasure may. 
 
 Canst me e'er with enjoyment wile. 
 
 Then may that be my final day ! 
 
 I'll wager that. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Done ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Done, I say ! 
 Should I unto the moment cry, 
 " Oh, linger still, thou art so fair ! " 
 Lay me in gyves then presently ; 
 I'll gladly then for death prepare. 
 Then may the funeral bells ring, all ; 
 Then art thou from thy service free ; 
 The clock may stop, the pointer fall. 
 Let Time be finished then for me ! 
 
76 CIjE CrageUg of dfauiStuS. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Bethink thee well, forget it we shall ne'er. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 The fullest right thereto hast thou ; 
 
 I have not giddily misjudged my power. 
 
 I'm here a slave as I am now ; 
 
 If thine or whose, nor ask nor care. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 At the doctorial dinner, I this day 
 Will as thy servant duty take ; 
 Only for life's, or rather, for death's sake, 
 Some lines of writing I would pray; 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Dost thou too, Pedant, something written need ? 
 
 Hast thou ne'er known a man, or a man's word, indeed ? 
 
 Is't not enough, my plighted word should be 
 
 A bond for ever on me all my days ? 
 
 Doth not the world in all its streams burst free. 
 
 And shall a writing hold me then, always ? 
 
 Nathless, this madness in the heart doth rest. 
 
 Who would be freed therefrom ? Ah, who ? 
 
 Full happy he who bears within his breast 
 
 The truth, no sacrifice he'll rue ! 
 
 And yet a parchment all writ o'er and seal-impressed, 
 
 A spectre is that all do shrink from too. 
 
 Ah, in the pen our v^ord doth die. 
 
 And skin and wax hold mastery. 
 
CJ)t CragetJj) of JFanStxii. 77 
 
 What wouldst thou, wicked Spirit, of me ? 
 Wouldst brass or marble, parchment or paper see, 
 Written with graver, chisel, or with pen ? 
 Of any method take thy pick. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Why must thou thus thy rhetoric 
 
 O'ercharge at once so hotly then ? 
 
 Sooth, any scrap will do in fine, 
 
 If with a little drop of blood thou dost but sign. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 If this doth fully content thee. 
 Then let it as thou fanciest be. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Blood is a juice quite singular. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 But fear me not that I my bond shall break ! 
 Indeed, my whole endeavours are 
 To do just what I undertake. 
 I did myself too highly prize. 
 But only rank with such as thee. 
 The mighty Spirit did me despise. 
 While Nature bars herself from me. 
 The thread of thought is broken, troth, 
 Since long all knowledge I do loathe. 
 Let all our passions wild stilled be, 
 In the recesses of the mind ! 
 The unpierced magic veil behind 
 
78 Wift CrascKu of dFausituS. 
 
 Prepare at once each prodigy ! 
 Plunge into the whirl of time freely, 
 In waves of eventuality ! 
 There may pain and happiness, 
 Mischance and success, 
 Alternate as it may or can ; 
 For only unrest stirreth man. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Thou settest thee no bounds or measure ; 
 Wouldst thou steal joys, then, everywhere ? 
 A something snatch, as on dost fare ? 
 May that agree, that doth thee pleasure ! 
 Fall to it then, and be not coy. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Hearken, there is no question here of joy. 
 
 'Tis turmoil I look for, 'tis harrowing happiness, 
 
 Loving aversion, quickening distress. 
 
 My breast from love of knowledge all refined 
 
 In future shall be closed to no pain ; 
 
 And what apportioned is 'mong all mankind 
 
 In my most inward self enjoy I'd fain, 
 
 Grasp in my soul the lowest and highest. 
 
 And heap their weal and woe upon my breast ; 
 
 Thus in inyself would I combine their entity, 
 
 And, at the last, like them, also dissolved be. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Ohj credit me^ that several thousand years 
 
€i)t CragtUp of dTaustug. 79 
 
 At this same wooden food hath chewed, 
 
 That, from the cradle to the bier, 
 
 No one this ancient leaven digest could. 
 
 The whole, if thou wilt one of us believe, 
 
 Is only for a Deity wrought; 
 
 In light eternal ever doth He live, 
 
 And us He hath into the darkness brought ; 
 
 But night and day do ye import. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Nathless I will. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Ay, so I see. 
 And yet there's one thing still I fear : 
 Time's long, art's short ; I'd the idea 
 You'd let yourself instructed be. 
 Get in a poet's company. 
 And let that master's thoughts run wild ; 
 Let every noble quality 
 Upon thy honoured head be piled : 
 Lion's hardihood, 
 The roe-deer's speediness, 
 And the Italian's fiery blood. 
 The Northman's sturdiness ; 
 Let him find for you how may be 
 Craft blent with magnanimity, 
 And how with warm young blood you may 
 Enamoured grow in formal way. 
 Would I could such a one come across, 
 I'd call him Sir Microcosmos ! 
 
8o Wi)t Crage»g of jTaustuS. 
 
 Faustus, 
 
 What am I, then, if it can ne'er be mine 
 The crown of manhood e'er to gain, 
 Towards which all our senses strain ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Thou art — ^just what thou art, in fine. 
 Wouldst periwigs of million locks put on. 
 Buskins an ell in altitude, too, don. 
 Thou still remainest what thou art. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 I feel 'tis so. All treasures I've in vain 
 Of intellect together sought to bring ; 
 And at the end, when I sit down again, 
 No novel force I feel within me spring. 
 By not a hair's breadth am I higher, 
 Am to the Infinite no nigher ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 My worthy Sir, these things you view 
 Just as one's wont these things to see ; 
 More deftly we'll fit things for you 
 Before our life's enjoyments flee. 
 Why, what a pox ! Though hands and feet 
 And head and virilty are thine. 
 Yet all that I enjoy, how be it, 
 Is it for that by aught less mine ? 
 If I six horses purchase can, 
 
Ci^t CragtUi) of dfauStus. 8i 
 
 Is their strength not my property ? 
 
 I race along, and am a proper man, 
 
 As four-and-twenty legs had I. 
 
 Go to then. Let thy feelings be ; 
 
 And out into the world with thee ! 
 
 The goodman who doth speculate, I say, 
 
 Like a beast on a barren heath, about 
 
 Led circling by an evil spirit round alway. 
 
 Is, while around lie verdant meads without. 
 
 Faustus. 
 How shall we then begin ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 We'll e'en go forth, I wis. 
 Ah, what a place of torture's this ! 
 What sort of life dost thou this call, 
 Irking thyself and youths withal ? 
 To neighbour Paunch let all that go : 
 Why plague thyself to thresh out straw with pain ? 
 The best of all that thou canst know 
 Thou mayst not to the lads explain. 
 One in the corridor I hear. 
 
 Faustus. 
 I cannot see him possibly. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 The poor boy long hath waited there, 
 Dismissed uncheered he must not be ; 
 
82 Clje CragtKi) of J^ausituS. 
 
 Lend me thy cap and gown a bit, 
 Fairly tlie masque beseemeth me. 
 
 ( He puts them on.) 
 
 Now mayst thou leave it to my wit, 
 
 I'll scarcely need a quarter hour, I'm sure ; 
 
 Meanwhile prepare thyself to make a pleasing tour. 
 
 {Exit Faustus.) 
 
 Mephistophiles {in Faustus' long robes'). 
 
 Reason and knowledge do thou now contemn. 
 
 The highest attributes of men ! 
 
 By lying Spirits strengthened be 
 
 In glamour and in sorcery ; 
 
 Then sans conditions art thou won ! 
 
 Fate did endow him with a soul that ever 
 
 All uncontrolled did urge him to press on ; 
 
 Whose over-eager endeavour 
 
 The joys of earth hath overgone. 
 
 Him through a life of riot I'll bear. 
 
 Through vapid mediocrity, 
 
 He shall me writhe, grow stark, stick there. 
 
 To his insatiability. 
 
 Float 'fore liis eager lips meats and drinks rare. 
 
 While for refreshment he may vainly pray. 
 
 And even had he given him to the Devil ne'er, 
 
 Succumbed he must have anyway ! 
 
 (Enter a Student.) 
 
 .11111 
 
Cije CvagtUo of dFttustiiS. 83 
 
 Student. 
 
 I have arrived but recently, 
 
 And come, full of humility. 
 
 To speak with, and make cognoscence 
 
 Of one, all name with reverence. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Your courtesy obligeth me, 
 
 A man like many more you see. 
 
 Have you elsewhere yourself addressed ? 
 
 Student. 
 
 I pray your kindly interest. 
 I'm hither come with mettle good. 
 Some money, and untainted blood; 
 My mother scarce would let me go ; 
 Something profound I fain would know. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 For that you've come to the right seat. 
 
 Student. 
 
 Frankly, I'd fain again retreat : 
 With these walls and these halls shall I 
 Ne'er find myself in harmony ; 
 The spaces all so narrow be ; 
 One sees no green, not e'en a tree ; 
 While seated in the lecture court, 
 I lose all hearing, sight, and thought. 
 G 2 
 
84 €1)1 Cragtbw of dfaufitus. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 That doth but in the habit lie : 
 Just so unto the mother's breast 
 The babe first takes not willingly, 
 Nathless, soon feedeth it with zest : 
 And so the breasts of wisdom you 
 Will daily with more zest pursue. 
 
 Student. 
 
 Ah, hang upon her neck, i' sooth, I'd fain ; 
 But tell me then, how can I to it attain ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Before you go on, specify 
 
 What choose you for your faculty ? 
 
 Student. 
 
 Right learned I do wish to grow. 
 All that upon the earth is, know. 
 And all that in the heavens is set, 
 All science, and all Nature too. 
 
 Mephistophiles 
 
 You're on the right track there. Guard you 
 Lest you too desultory get. 
 
 Student. 
 
 I'm heart and soul for it alway ; 
 Yet with it I would wish to share 
 
€^t CragtlTB of jTaustus. 85 
 
 A little freedom, and some play, 
 On Summer holidays when fair. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Use well your time, it passeth quickly on, 
 Yet method shows how time is won ; 
 So I'd advise you, my dear friend. 
 First Logic lectures to attend ; 
 Thus is the spirit disciplined. 
 In Spanish boots laced and confined, 
 That it more heedful thenceforth may 
 Creep on the line of thought's highway, 
 And not across, or skew, perchance, 
 Like a Jack o'Lantern dance. 
 Then they'll some days take to teach you 
 The things you erst were wont to do 
 Straight off: as eating and drinking, ye 
 Must do by rule, with one, two, three. 
 I' sooth, the working of thought is 
 Like a weaver's masterpiece : 
 A thousand threads one pedal takes. 
 The shuttles darting to and fro ; 
 Unseen the threads run, and one blow 
 A thousand combinations makes. 
 Then your Philosopher comes to ye. 
 And proves how such a thing must be : 
 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 
 
86 Cljf CrasfKi? of .f auiSttiS. 
 
 This scholars prize, from every part, 
 Yet they've not learned the weaver's art. 
 Who would aught living learn and treat about' 
 Seeks first to drive the spirit o>it. 
 The parts holds in his hands, — only, 
 Alas ! there lacks the spiritual tie. 
 Chemists it Encheiresin naturm call, 
 Nor wot they mock themselves withal. 
 
 Student. 
 Your meaning I do scarcely see. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 It will in future clearer be,* 
 When you learn all things properly 
 To reduce and classify. 
 
 Student. 
 
 So dazed am I by all you've said, 
 
 'Tis as a mill-wheel turned within my head. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Thereafter, before everything, 
 Your mind to Metaphysics bring. 
 See you profoundly do perceive 
 AVhat human brain cannot conceive ; 
 For what goes in it — or will not, 
 See you a brilliant word have got. 
 And above all things, see you are 
 During the half-year regular. 
 
C|)c Cvagtftj) of dfauiStus!. 87 
 
 Five lectures daily you will hear, 
 
 And, as the clock strikes, there appear ; 
 
 You must beforehand well prepare, 
 
 Study each paragraph with care. 
 
 That, later, you may better see 
 
 Nothing but what stands in the book, saith he. 
 
 Yet write with vigour unabated, 
 
 As 'twere the Holy Ghost dictated. 
 
 Student. 
 
 You will not need that twice to say ! 
 How useful 'tis, well do I wot ! 
 For what in black and white one's got. 
 One can contented home convey. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 But now choose me a Faculty. 
 
 Student. 
 I cannot bring myself, indeed, to study law. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Well, that I cannot greatly blame you for. 
 I know how it with this same science be : 
 Inherited are laws, and legislation 
 Down, like a lasting malady, 
 From generation drags to generation, 
 Moves on from place to place slowly. 
 Sense is made nonsense, kindness nought. 
 Woe's thee, that thou a grandchild art ! 
 
88 Ci^c CcagjKu of JfauStttS. 
 
 Those rights in which with birth we've part, 
 Of those, alas ! there's ne'er a thought. 
 
 Student. 
 
 You strengthen my dislike thereto. 
 Oh, happy he who's taught by you ! 
 I almost think Theology I'd read. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 I would be loath you to mislead. 
 But, as regards that science, why, 
 It is so hard from the wrong path to hold ; 
 So much of hidden poison in't doth lie. 
 That scarce may from the antidote be told. 
 Also in this, 'tis better but one side to hear, 
 And by that master's words to swear. 
 Upon the whole, to words keep you ; 
 Thus the sure portal you'll go through 
 Unto the fane of certainty. 
 
 Student. 
 But in the words there must a concept be. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Ay, marry, but one must not fret over that too far : 
 
 For just where concepts wanting are, 
 
 'Tis there a word comes in conveniently. 
 
 Finely with words we may dispute. 
 
 With words a system constitute ; 
 
 Finely in words believe we may. 
 
 Nor from a wcrd can we one jot e'er filch away. 
 
C!jt CrageUj) of jFausituii. S9 
 
 Student. 
 
 Pardon that I with many questions hold you ; 
 Yet must I trouble with one still : 
 That upon Medicine you will 
 A pregnant word deliver too ? 
 Three years is but a little tide, 
 And, Lord ! the field is all too wide ! 
 One may e'en by a hint alone 
 In better case strike out ihe way. 
 
 Mephistophiles {aside). 
 
 I'm tired now of this prosy tone, 
 And must again the Devil play. 
 
 {Aloud.) 
 The spirit of Medicine's mastered easily: 
 You study through the world both small and broad, 
 That you may leave things finally 
 As't pleaseth God. 
 
 It is in vain that learnedly around you're bent, 
 For each one only learns but what he can ; 
 Yet he who grasps the right moment, 
 That one is the right man. 
 To goodly build you've some pretence. 
 Nor do you want for courage too ; 
 If in yourself you've confidence. 
 Then others will confide in.you. 
 'Fore all, learn womenfolk to sway : 
 Their endless " Ahs," and "Woe is me,' 
 That legion be. 
 
90 1!L\)t Cragtiri? of dfauiStuji. 
 
 May be cured always in one way ; 
 
 And if in part deferential, 
 
 Under your thumb you'll have them all. 
 
 First give her confidence by a Degree 
 
 That your art doth full many an art transcend, 
 
 And then, indeed, to handle everything you're free, 
 
 For which another many a year must spend. 
 
 To press the small pulse rightly learn, 
 
 With surreptitious glances that do burn 
 
 Take her by the slender waist 
 
 To see how tightly she be laced. 
 
 Student. 
 That hath a better look ; one seeth the how and why. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Grey, my dear friend, is every theory ; 
 The golden tree of hfe is green. 
 
 Student. 
 
 All like a dream it seemeth me, I ween. 
 May I another time, perhaps, trouble you 
 The subject in your wisdom to pursue ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 I'll gladly do all that I may. 
 
 Sti^dent. 
 I' sooth, I scarcely can away ! 
 
CIjc CvagcUi) of dTnugtii^. 91 
 
 I must my album to you now present. 
 Grant me this proof of kind intent. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Right willingly. 
 
 {He writes and returns it.) 
 
 Student {reads). 
 
 Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum. 
 {Closes the book respectfully, and exit.) 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 But follow the ancient saw, and the serpent, my Aunt, 
 Thou'lt look on thy likeness to God surely some day 
 askaunt. 
 
 Faustus {entering). 
 Where shall we get us now ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Where'er it pleaseth thee 
 The little world, and then the great, we'll see. 
 With what delight, what profit too. 
 That course of lectures thou'lt feast through ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Nathless, with this long beard have I 
 Let the small arts of life go by; 
 
92 C^e Cragrtg of dfaustus. 
 
 The venture will not prosper now ; 
 
 To bear me i' the world I ne'er knew how. 
 
 'Fore other folk I feel so small, 
 
 And ever at a loss withal. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 My worthy friend, all that will pass : thou'lt be 
 Well skilled in life as soon as thou dost trust in me, 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 How from the house shall we away ? 
 Where doth horse, coach, and varlet tarry ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 This mantle we a-spread will lay. 
 And through the air it will us carry. 
 When we this venturous journey make, 
 Thou wilt no weighty fardel take. 
 A little fiery air I will compound, 
 That quick will lift us from the ground. 
 'Twill swiftly rise, if it be light of weight. 
 Your novel way of life I do fehcitate ! . 
 
9imvhuV& Cabcrn at ^eipsir* 
 
 a carouse. 
 
 Frog. 
 
 What, no one drink, and no one laugh ? 
 I'll teach ye all to look so draff ! 
 Ye are, to-day, like sodden straw, 
 That used to burn so bright before ! 
 
 Brander. 
 
 'Tis thy fault, thou dost nothing contribute 
 In foolery, or beastliness, to boot. 
 
 Frog {throws a glass of wine at him). 
 There hast thou both ! 
 
 Brander. 
 Thou filthy beast ! 
 
 Frog. 
 'Twas what thou'dst have me be at least. 
 
94 ®ijt Crageifp of dfauStuS. 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 Whoe'er would wrangle, throw him out ! 
 With open lungs sing Rounda, swill and shout ! 
 Hey, holla, ho ! 
 
 Altmayer, 
 
 Woe's me, I'm lost, 'tis clear ! 
 Bring wool, i' sooth, the knave will split my ear ! 
 
 SlEBBL. 
 
 Bass notes, till echoed from the roof, 
 First justly of their quality give proof. 
 
 Frog. 
 
 'Tis well so : we will thrust him out who takes a huff ! 
 Ah, tra la da ! 
 
 Altmayer. 
 Ah, tra la da ! 
 
 Frog. 
 
 Our throats are tuned enough. 
 
 {Sings.) 
 
 The Holy Roman Empire still 
 How holdeth it together ? 
 
 Brander. 
 A foul song, fie, a political song ! 
 A scurvy song ! Each morn thank God in prayer 
 That for Rome's Empire thou need'st have no care. 
 
CIjc CragcUj) of jFau^tuS, 95 
 
 Me seemeth it, at least, to be a blessed favour 
 That I no Emperor am, or Chancellor : 
 Yet must we not without a ruler be, 
 A Pope we'll choose, an't pleaseth ye ; 
 You know the quality that can 
 Direct our choice, and raise the man. 
 
 Frog {sings). 
 
 Rouse thee up, dame nightingale, 
 A thousand times my sweetheart hail ! 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 Do thou not greet my sweetheart, I'll not stomach it ! 
 
 Frog. 
 
 My sweetheart greet and kiss, thou canst not hinder it. 
 
 {Sings.) 
 
 Undo the bolt, the still night sleeps ; 
 Undo the bolt. Love vigil keeps ; 
 The bolt shoot to, with morning's dew. 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 Yea, do but sing her, praise her, celebrate her, 
 
 My turn for laughing soon 'twill be : 
 
 Me hath she duped, she'll do the same by thee. 
 
 I'd rather she were dowered to gnome, 
 
 To wanton with her, where cross; roads do meet; 
 
 An old he-goat, from Pilemount coming home, 
 
 Might, as he gallops by, a good night bleat. 
 
96 Wijt CragtK^ of dFauStuS. 
 
 An honest youth, made of right flesh and blood, 
 For such a wench is far too good. 
 From me no greeting shall she win — 
 Save 'twere her casement broken in. 
 
 Brander (striking the table). 
 
 Give ear, give ear, and list to me ! 
 
 You'll own I know what 'tis to live ? 
 
 Love-stricken folk here sitting be, 
 
 These must I, each in his degree, 
 
 Of my best, something, for a good night give. 
 
 Note, of the newest is my glee, 
 
 Join in the chorus lustily ! 
 
 {Sings.) 
 
 Once, in a cranny, lived a rat. 
 That only fed on lard and butter ; 
 Had grown a paunch as round and fat 
 As ever Dr. Luther. 
 The cook placed poison for it there : 
 Then narrowed was the world as 'twere 
 That love consumed its vitals ! 
 
 Chorus. ^ / 
 
 That love consumed its vitals ! 
 
 Brander. 
 It wandered in, and outside too, 
 At every puddle swilled. 
 
 It gnawed and scratched the whole house 
 through, 
 
Ci^e CragttJn of dTausitutf. 97 
 
 But nought its anguish stilled, 
 And many an agonized bound did give. 
 The poor beast soon 'd enough, as if 
 'Twere love consumed its vitals ! 
 
 Chorus. 
 'Twere love consumed its vitals ! 
 
 Brander. 
 
 Into the kitchen in full day 
 
 It ran in agony, 
 
 And on the hearthstone twitching lay, 
 
 And panted piteously. 
 
 The poisoner laughed thereto, ho, ho ! 
 
 At its last gasp it be, as though 
 
 'Twere love consumed its vitals ! 
 
 Chorus. 
 'Twere love consumed its vitals ! 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 How they enjoy it all, the flats ! 
 Me seemeth, skilful must he be 
 Who'd poison spread for the poor rats ! 
 
 Brander. 
 You value them, no doubt, immensely ! 
 
 Altmayer. 
 
 The bald- pate, with his paunch of fat ! 
 Mischance hath tamed him, and meek made. 
 
 H 
 
98 €;^t CragcitD of dfaustusi. 
 
 He sees in the pictured swollen rat 
 His natural likeness fair displayed. 
 
 {Enter Fausius and Mephistophiles.) 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 I would thee now, 'fore everything, 
 Into some jovial company bring ; 
 That thou mayst see how lightly one may live. 
 Here folk each day to rgyelry do give. 
 , With little wit, and much content. 
 Each turns himself within his narrow pale, 
 E'en like a kitten with it's tail. 
 If they no headache need lament. 
 And while their host doth credit give, 
 Happy and free from care they live. 
 
 Brander. 
 
 Just come from foreign parts these be. 
 Ye may it in their wondrous fashion see. 
 They've not been here an hour, I wot. 
 
 Frog. ♦ 
 
 Art right, i' faith. My Leipsic is the spot ! 
 
 A Paris 'tis, writ small, and giveth its people form. 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 For what takest thou these strangers, sooth ? 
 
 Frog. 
 
 Leave me alone ; with a full glass shalt see 
 I'll draw ye 't, as it were a child's tooth. 
 
Ciie CragetJM of Jfattstus. 99 
 
 And worm it from the youths as easily. 
 Unto some noble house they seem allied, 
 So proud they look, and so dissatisfied. 
 
 Brander. 
 They're quacksalvers, I'll go a groat ! 
 
 Altmayer. 
 Perhaps. 
 
 Frog. 
 Mark me, I'll smoke them fair. 
 
 Mephistophiles {to Faustus).' 
 The folk descry the Devil ne'er, 
 E'en if he hath them by the throat ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 Salute ye, gentlemen ! 
 
 SlEBEL, 
 
 We thank, and ye salute. 
 (Aside, glancing at Mephistophiles.) 
 Why halteth he upon one foot ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 With your permission, we will sit with ye ; 
 Failing good liquor, which one cannot look for here. 
 We will enjoy your company. 
 
 Altmayer. 
 You are a dainty man I fear ! 
 H 2 
 
100 €^t CragetJg of dTaustuS. 
 
 Frog. 
 
 'Twas late, no doubt, when you from Rippach broke ; 
 Supped ye not there with Master Hobbinol the last ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Nay, this time without halt we passed. 
 
 The former time 'twas that we with hitn spoke : 
 
 About his cousins he had much to say, 
 
 To all his warmest greetings begged he we'd convey. 
 
 (Bows to Frog!) 
 
 Altmayer {aside). 
 There hast thou it— He's skilled ! 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 He is an artful one ! 
 
 Frog. 
 Nay wait, I'll trip him up anon. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 If I err not, we late did hear 
 Skilled voices in full chorus sing ? 
 Doubtless the chords must grandly here 
 Re-echoing from the vaulting ring. 
 
 Frog. 
 Art thou an amateur, withal ? 
 
Wift CrageKB of dTauStust. toi 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Ah no ! Desire is great, nathless the power is small. 
 
 Altmayer. 
 Give us a song. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 A many, an ye incline. 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 But let it a brand-new one be. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 From Spain, but now, returned again are we, 
 The beauteous land of song and eke of wine. 
 
 (Smgs.) 
 
 One time there was a king 
 Who had a monstrous flea — 
 
 Frog. 
 
 Hear that, a flea ! Ye mark it well, I wis ? 
 A flea, a pretty guest that is ! 
 
 Mephistophiles (jmgs). 
 
 One time there was a king 
 Who had a monstrous flea 
 He loved it no small thing. 
 As 'twere his son loved he. 
 Then called he to his tailor. 
 
Eijt CrageSp of dfauStuS. 
 
 The tailor came anon 
 
 There, fit the youth with vesture, 
 
 And fit him breeches on. 
 
 Brander. 
 Enjoin the tailor, and forget it not, 
 That narrowly 'tis me measured, 
 And that, as he doth love his head. 
 The breeches ne'er a crease have got. 
 
 Mephistophiles, 
 In silk and velvet casings 
 Was he then now o'erdone, 
 With many-ribboned facings 
 And eke a star thereon. 
 And Minister he was too, 
 And had a mighty cross. 
 Then his relations all grew 
 Great folk at court of course. 
 
 The Lords and Dames at court 
 Were all sore worried, 
 The Queen and her escort 
 Were stung and tormented, 
 Nor dared they e'en to crack 'em. 
 Or e'en put them to flight ; 
 We crack 'em and we sack 'em 
 At once, an they do bite. 
 
 Chorus {shouting). 
 We crack 'em and we sack 'em 
 At once, an they do bite. 
 
Cljt Cvagetrj) of dTauShiS. 1 03 
 
 Frog. 
 Bravo, bravo, i' faith, 'twas rare ! 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 And so may every flea fare ! 
 
 Brander. 
 Point your finger, and nick 'em all ! 
 
 Altmayer. 
 Hurrah for freedom — and wine withal ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 I'd gladly drink a glass to freedom's high honor 
 If but your wine were somewhat superior. 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 We would not hear you say that more ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 I do but fear the host aggrieved would be, 
 Else to these worthy guests I'd proffer 
 The rarest that our cellar could offer. 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 Out with it then, I take 't on me. 
 
 Frog. 
 
 Get us but a good glass, we'll give you praise withal. 
 But see the sample's not too small, 
 For if my judgment on't you crave, 
 My mouth well fillbd I must have. 
 
I04 Ci^e CragjUp of ^austus. 
 
 Altmayer {aside). 
 
 They're from the Rhine, as I conjecture. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Get me a gimlet here. 
 
 Brander. 
 What would you with it ? Why ? 
 The casks before the door you've not got, sure ? 
 
 Altmayer. 
 You'll find our host's tool-basket there behind doth lie. 
 
 Mephistophiles {taking the gimlet, to Frog). 
 What would you taste now, name 't to me. 
 
 Frog. 
 How mean you that ? Have you got divers ? Eh ? 
 
 Mephistophiles, 
 Each, that which liketh him, choose may. 
 
 Altmayer {to Frog). 
 Aha, dost thou begin to lick thy lips already ? 
 
 Frog. 
 Good, if that I may choose, fair Rhenish wine would I : 
 Our Fatherland doth ever the best gifts supply. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 {As he bores a hole in the edge of the table where Frog is 
 
 sitti?ig.) 
 Get me a little wax for use as spigots, quick. 
 
Cije Cragcli)) of dFaufitits. 105 
 
 Altmayer. 
 Why this is but a juggler's trick ! 
 
 Mephistophiles (io Brander). 
 And you ? 
 
 Brander. 
 
 Wine of Champagne for me ; 
 And let it fair and sparkling be. 
 
 (Mephistophiles continues to bore, while another stops the 
 holes with wax.) 
 
 Brander. 
 
 One can't all foreign things eschew, 
 
 Good things are far off, frequently ; 
 
 And though your Frenchman's hated of your German true, 
 
 He drinks his wine most willingly. 
 
 SiEBEL (as Mephistophiles approaches him). 
 
 I must confess that sour wine likes me not ; 
 A glass of right sweet stuff, I say ! 
 
 Mephistophiles (bores'). 
 Tokay shall flow for you straightway. 
 
 Altmayer. 
 
 Nay, Sirs, look in my face, a plot 
 It is to cozen all of us, I see ! 
 
io6 Cljc CragfUn of dfaustus. 
 
 ■Mephistophiles. 
 
 Nay, with such noble guests 'twould be 
 A somewhat venturous game to play ! 
 Despatch ye now, and plainly say 
 With what wine I may serve ye, sirs ? 
 
 Altmayer. 
 With all : so that you don't delay ! 
 
 {After all the holes are bored and stopped, Mephistophiles, 
 with curious gestures^ 
 Grapes the vine-stock beareth. 
 Horns the he-goat weareth. 
 Wine is juicy, wood the vine, 
 The wooden table too yields wine. 
 A deep glance into Nature throw, 
 A wonder's there, with faith enow ! 
 
 Now draw the stoppers, and drink on ! 
 
 All. 
 
 {As they draw the plugs and the wine flows into their 
 glasses.) 
 
 Ah, lovely streamlet that doth run ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Have but a care that you do spill me none. 
 
 {They drink again and again.) 
 All {singing). 
 
 We are as gay as cannibals, 
 Or as five hundred swine ! 
 
€fft CragcUn of dfauStusi. 107 
 
 Mephktophiles. 
 They are at their ease, see how it doth agree ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 Now would I fain depart from here. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Do but first mark them, their bestiality 
 Will soon delightfully appear. 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 ( lV7io carelessly lets the wine run down upon the ground, 
 where it turns to flame.') 
 
 Help ! Fire ! Help ! Hell fires do grill ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Friendly element, be still ! 
 
 (To the company.^ 
 
 'Twas only purgatorial, this time, merely. 
 
 SlEBEI.. 
 
 What's that ? But wait a bit — we'll pay you dearly ! 
 It seemeth that you know us ill ! 
 
 Frog. 
 That game a second time you'd best not try ! 
 
 Altmayer. 
 Methinks 'twere best quite quietly to bid him go. 
 
io8 Cljt Cragttri) of dTausitus. 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 What, Sir ! You will venture you 
 Your hocus-pocus here to ply ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Silence, old wine-cask ! 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 Broomstick thou ! 
 Thou'dst show us frowardness again ! 
 
 Brander. 
 Just wait a little, blows will rain ! 
 
 Altmayer. 
 
 {Draws a plug out of the table. Flames dart out to- 
 wards him.) 
 I burn ! I burn ! 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 'Tis sorcery ! 
 Strike home ! The knave's fair game to ye ! 
 
 {They draw their knives and attack Mephistophiles.) 
 
 Mephistophiles {with solemn action). 
 
 False sounds and fancies fair 
 Changed sense and place prepare ! 
 Be here and there ! 
 
 {Tliey look round astonished, and gaze at each other.) 
 
t!C]^e CragttJi) of dTauStuS. 109 
 
 Altmayer, 
 Where am I ? What a beauteous land ! 
 
 Frog. 
 Vine mountains ! See I right ? 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 Grapes trailing to the hand ! 
 
 Brander. 
 
 Underneath these green leaves, see, 
 What a stem, what grapes there be ! 
 
 (He takes Siebel by the nose. Each does tJie same by his 
 neighbour, and raises his knife.) 
 
 Mephistophiles (as above). 
 
 Illusion, their eye-bands undo ! 
 And, how the Devil jests, take heed, 
 
 {He vanishes with Faustus. The boon companions start 
 apart ^ 
 
 Siebel. 
 
 What?- 
 
 Altmayer. 
 
 How? 
 
 Frog. 
 
 Was that thy nose, indeed ? 
 
 Brander (to Siebel). 
 And I hold thine in my hand too ! 
 
Cije CragettD of dTauStuS. 
 
 Altmayer. 
 
 It was a stroke, — through every limb it went ; 
 Give me a chair, I sink, I'm spent ! 
 
 Frog. 
 Nay, what hath happened then, tell me. 
 
 SlEBEL 
 
 Where is the knave? An I him spy 
 'Scape me alive ne'er more shall he ! 
 
 Altmayer. 
 
 Riding upon a wine cask, e'en now, I 
 Did see him through the doorway flee — 
 As leaded are these feet of mine ! 
 
 ( Turning towards the table.) 
 Oons ! Should the table still run wine ? 
 
 SlEBEL 
 
 It was all trickery and false show ! 
 
 Frog. 
 Meseemed as if I drank wine, though. 
 
 Brander. 
 But how about the grapes we saw ? 
 
 Altmayer. 
 Well, never say that wonders are no more ! 
 
C6e miW^ Mttiniu 
 
 A fire on a low hearth, over which hangs a cauldron. 
 Various figures looming through the mist which rises 
 from it. A female monkey sits by the cauldron skim- 
 ming, and watching lest tt boil over. Hard by sits a 
 male monkey warmi?ig himself, and also some young 
 ones. The walls and roof are covered with curious 
 witch-garniture. 
 
 Enter Faustus and Mephistophiles. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 This silly wizard-work doth me offend ; 
 
 Dost warrant I'll attain my end 
 
 In this wild chaos of lunacy ? 
 
 Shall counsel of a crone be asked by me ? 
 
 And will this filthy cookery 
 
 From thirty years my body free ? 
 
 Woe's me, an thou nought else dost wit ; 
 
 Already hope hath from me fled ! 
 
 Hath Nature, and hath not some noble spirit. 
 
 Some other sort of balm perchance discovered ? 
 
€l)t CragtWg of dfaugtus. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Friend now, thou speak'st with restored wit. 
 There is besides a natural means to give thee youth : 
 But in another book it standeth writ ; 
 A wondrous chapter 'tis, in sooth ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 I would it learn. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Good,, it is an art you may 
 Sans gold, or leech, or magic win ; 
 Betake thee to the fields straightway, 
 Hoeing and digging there begin. 
 Thy senses and thyself must thou 
 Within the narrowest circle train, 
 Thy life with simple unmixed meats sustain. 
 Midst beasts live as a beast, nor must thou bootless 
 
 ween 
 The field that thou dost reap thyself to dung ; 
 Believe me, 'tis the surest mean 
 At eighty years to make thee young. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 I'rn not accustomed to it, nor can I persuade 
 Myself to take and wield the spade. 
 That narrow life is not the sort for me. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Then nathless to the witch must we. 
 
K^i Cragtttj) of dFaustus. 1 1 3 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Why doth it then this beldame need ? 
 To brew the draught art thou not skilled ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 That were a pastime rare indeed ! 
 
 I'd fain the while a thousand bridges build. 
 
 Not Art alone, and Pansophy, 
 
 But Patience in the work must be. 
 
 A quiet spirit's busied whole years long, 
 
 Time only makes the rarer ferments strong. 
 
 And all that doth belong thereto — 
 
 Things wondrous strange and rare they are — 
 
 The devil hath her taught, 'tis true, 
 
 Nathless the devil can 't not gar. 
 
 (Seeing the beasts^ 
 Lo ! what a dainty tribe here be ! 
 That is the maid, the man is he. 
 
 {To the beasts.) 
 Meseems the dame's not in the house ? 
 
 The Beasts. 
 On the bouse 
 Out of the house 
 By chimney course. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 How long in revel doth she spend ? 
 
1 14 '^ift CragttJg of dfauStus. 
 
 The Beasts. 
 Till we our paw-warming do end. 
 
 Mephistophiles (U Faustus). 
 What thinkest thou of the dainty brutes ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 They are as loathsome as I e'er did see. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Nay, a discourse, like this one be, 
 
 Is just the sort that best my liking suits. 
 
 {To the beasts.) 
 Say then, ye cursbd puppets, troth, 
 What is the brew that ye do stir ? 
 
 The Beasts. 
 We seethe ye here weak beggar's broth. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Ye'll have a mighty public there ! 
 
 The Dog-Ape. 
 
 ( Comes and fawns on Mephistophiles.) 
 
 Oh, haste, the dice throw. 
 And rich let me grow ; 
 Let me win the main ! 
 Full ill 'tis ordained ! 
 But money obtained. 
 Then should I be sane. 
 
Z^e €vasttis of dTauStuji. 1 1 5 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 How blessed the ape would deem himself, if he 
 Could put into a lottery ! 
 
 {Meanwhile the young apes have been playing with a large 
 ball, which they roll forward.) 
 
 The Dog-Ape. 
 
 This we the World call, 
 It doth rise and fall, 
 Turning for aye ; 
 Like glass ringeth it, 
 How soon will't split ? 
 Hollow inly. 
 Here doth bright appear. 
 And still brighter here. 
 Living am I. 
 My own dear son, 
 Keep thou away, 
 For thou must die ! 
 'Tis made of clay, 
 Will be shards presently ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 What means this sieve ? 
 
 Dog-Ape {reaching it down). 
 
 Wert thou a thief, 
 
 I would thee straightway know. 
 
 {Huns to the Bitch- Ape, and makes her look through^ 
 I 2 
 
1 1 6 m)t Crage^rg of JTauStus. 
 
 Look through the sieve. 
 Knowest thou the thief, 
 And darest not call him so ? 
 
 Mephistophiles {going to the fire). 
 And what this bowl ? 
 
 Dog and Bitch Apes. 
 
 The simple fool ! 
 Knows not the bowl, 
 Knows not the kettle ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Ill-spoke beast thou ! 
 
 Dog-Ape. 
 
 Take this whisk now, 
 And sit on the settle. 
 
 {He makes Mephistophiles sit.) 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 ( Who lias been standing before a mirror, now approaching 
 and now receding from it.) 
 
 What see I ! What heavenly charms display 
 
 Them in this glass of witchery ! 
 
 O Love, the swiftest of thy wings do thou lend me. 
 
 And to her presence lead the way ! 
 
 Alas, unless upon this spot I rest, 
 
 If I do venture to go near, 
 
 Only as if 'twere through a mist I see her, 
 
C]^t CragtUi) of dTauptuS. 1 1 7 
 
 Picture of womankind loveliest ! 
 Can 't be, that women so fair be ? 
 Must I in this recumbent form confessed 
 The essence of all heavenly beauty see ? 
 Is there on earth e'er such a being ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 'Tis natural when a God hath toiled hard for six days, 
 
 And then Himself to it " Bravo " says, 
 
 It will be something worth the seeing. 
 
 Gaze thyself this time satiate, 
 
 For I can find thee a like treasure rare ; 
 
 And blest is he, whose is the happy fate 
 
 As bridegroom home to carry her ! 
 
 {Faustus continues to gaze into the mirror. Mephistophiles, 
 stretching himself upon the settle, and playing with the 
 whisk, continues to speak.) 
 
 Here sit I as a king upon his throne ; 
 
 Tlie sceptre hold I here, and lack the crown alone. 
 
 The Beasts. 
 
 ( Who up till now have been doing all sorts of fantastic 
 antics together, bring a crown to Mephistophiles, with 
 much screaming^ 
 
 Oh, be so good 
 
 With sweat and with blood 
 
 The crown to belime ! 
 
 ( They go awkwardly about with th^ crown, and break it 
 into two pieces, with which they leap about.) 
 
1 1 8 Ci^e Cragttfj of d^austuS. 
 
 'Tis done now, and we 
 Speak, and we see. 
 Hear, and we rhyme ! 
 
 Faustus {turned towards the mirror). 
 I'm well-nigh crazed ! Ah, woe is me ! 
 
 Mephistophiles {pointing to the animals). 
 And my head, too, begins to grow distraught. 
 
 The Beasts. 
 And if t falls happily, 
 And if all fit be, 
 Why, then it is thought. 
 
 Faustus (as above). 
 My bosom 'gins to burn — Ah, speed 
 Away from this place out afar ! 
 
 Mephistophiles (in the same position). 
 At all events, one must concede, 
 That sometimes poets honest are. 
 
 (The caldron, which the beasts have neglected, begins to boil 
 over. A great flame rises, and blazes up the chimney. 
 The witch comes down, through the flames with a 
 horrible cry.) \ 
 
 Witch. 
 Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow ! 
 Thou damnfed beast, accursed sow ! 
 Neglect the pot, thy dame burn, fough. 
 Beasts that ye are ! 
 
€]^t Ctagtt(» of dTaustud. 119 
 
 {Seeing Faustus and Mephistophiles.) 
 
 What is that here ? 
 Who are ye here ? 
 What would ye there ? 
 How slipped ye by ? 
 Fire agony 
 Your bones harry ! 
 
 {She dips the skimming-spoon into the caldron, and throws 
 flames after Faustus, The Beasts whimper.') 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 ( Who turns the fly-whisk, which h^ had in his hand, round, 
 and hits out among the glasses and pots ^ 
 
 In two, in two, 
 There lies the brew ! 
 The glass doth lie ! 
 'Tis a jest I 
 To thy melody, 
 Scum ! beat tattoo. 
 
 {As the Witch steps back full of wrath and dismay. ) 
 
 Dost thou not know me, then, thou scrag, thou fright, 
 
 Thy lord and master dost recall ? 
 
 What doth me let that I thee smite 
 
 To nothing with thy apish sprites and all ? 
 
 Hast not more reverence for the doublet red ? 
 
 The cock's plume aigrette dost thou not well ken ? 
 
 Have I my visage concealed ? 
 
 My name must I give to thee then ? 
 
W^e CragtUi) of dTausitiiS. 
 
 Witch. 
 
 O lord, forgive the rude salute ! 
 
 Yet see I not the hooffed foot, 
 
 And then where are your ravens twain ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 For once thou mayst escape this way ; 
 
 Some time, in sooth, hath passed away 
 
 Since we do see each other again. 
 
 And culture too, that all the world doth mould, 
 
 Doth e'en the Devil, too, enfold. 
 
 The northern apparition's to be seen no more ; 
 
 Where seest thou horns, or tail, or claw ? 
 
 For what concerns the foot, which change I never can, 
 
 'Twould harm me 'mong folk so t' appear 
 
 Therefore I've had recourse, like many a younger man 
 
 To false calves now for many a year. 
 
 Witch (dancing). 
 
 'Reft of my wits all clean I be. 
 
 Since I Squire Satan here again do see ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Woman ! use not that name for me. 
 
 Witch. 
 Wherefore, what hath it 'gainst you wrought ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 In books of fables it hath long been set ; 
 
Ci^e CvagtKB of jTausituif. 
 
 But mankind, nathless, is no better for't ; 
 
 Quit of the Evil One, the evil ones they've yet. 
 
 Sir Baron thou mayst call me, and it will be good ; 
 
 Like other Cavaliers, a Cavalier I be. 
 
 Dost thou misdoubt thee of my noble blood ? 
 
 This is the 'scutcheon that I bear, here see ! 
 
 (He makes an indecorous gesture^ 
 
 Witch {laughing immoderately). 
 
 Ha, ha, that's in your fashion rare ! 
 
 A rogue you are, as e'en you ever were ! 
 
 Mephistophiles {to Faustus). 
 
 My friend, note this, and lay 't to heart, 
 Wouldst thou with witches deal, this is the art. 
 
 Witch. 
 Say, gentlemen, what is your will ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 A good glass of the juice thou wottest, fill, 
 
 But of the oldest, I must beg ; 
 
 For years its strength do double still. 
 
 Witch. 
 
 Right gladly. Here a flask you see, 
 Whence I, by times, sip privily ; 
 That now, too, not a wit doth stink. 
 A cup to you with joy I'll give. 
 
E]^e CragtiJi) of dfauStuiS. 
 
 {Aside.) 
 Yet if this man doth unprepared drink, 
 He hath, as you know well, scarce one hour more to 
 live. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 It is a worthy friendj whom it shall benefit ; 
 Thy kitchen's best I gladly to him proffer. 
 Describe thy circle, incantation offer. 
 And give him a full cup of it. 
 
 Witch 
 
 ( With strange gestures draws a circle, and places curious 
 objects within it. Meanwhile the glasses begin to ring, 
 and the caldron to sound a musical air. Lastly, she gets 
 a great book, and placing the Apes in the circle, makes them 
 serve as a desk, and carry torches. Then she beckons 
 Faustus to approach). 
 
 Faustus {to Mephistophiles). 
 
 Nay, tell me what should all this be ? 
 This crazy stuff, this raving mummery, 
 This cozenage, most savourless. 
 Is known to me, and loathed no less. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Eh ? Flummery, — 'tis for the jest's sake — 
 Prithee be not so crotchety ! 
 As leech, she must this hocus-pocus make, 
 In order that the juice may profit thee. 
 
 {He makes Faustus enter the circle.) 
 
Cfjt CvagiUo of dfaustus. 123 
 
 Witch. 
 
 {Beginning to declaim, with great emphasis, from the book.) 
 
 This must thou ken : 
 
 Of one make ten, 
 
 Carry two then, 
 
 Make tally three, 
 
 Thus rich thou'lt be. 
 
 Cast out the four ; 
 
 Of five and six, 
 
 The witch doth fix, 
 
 Make seven and eight ; 
 
 'Tis consummate. 
 
 And nine is one, 
 
 And ten is none ; 
 
 This is the witch's one-times-one. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Methinks she doth in fever fret ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 It is not nearly finished yet. 
 I know it well, the whole book runs like that. 
 Full many an hour lost o'er it eke have I. 
 Forsooth, a contradiction flat. 
 To sages as to fools, remains a mystery. 
 Both old and new, friend, this art be ; 
 At all times was't inveterate 
 By three and one, and one and three. 
 Error for truth to propagate. 
 
124 C]^e CragtlTD of dTausituS. 
 
 So, they unmoved, prate and teach on ; 
 
 For who with fools would have to do ? 
 
 Man generally believes, if he hear words alone, 
 
 Some sort of meaning must lie in them somewhere too. 
 
 The Witch (continues). 
 
 The high potence 
 
 Of our science, 
 
 Hid from the world they are ; 
 
 Who thinketh not, 
 
 Then hath he got 
 
 Them given without care. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 What nonsense is she talking there ? 
 Meseems my headpiece will be breaking ! 
 Methinks in chorus I do hear 
 A hundred thousand idiots speaking ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Enough, enough, thou excellent Sibyl ! 
 Bring forth the draught for us, and fill 
 The goblet full unto the brim, amain. 
 The drink will do my friend no injury ; 
 A man he is, passed his degree. 
 That many a mighty draught hath ta'en. 
 
 ( The witch pours the drink, with many formalities, into 
 a cup. A thin flams rises from it as Faustus puts 
 it to his lips.) 
 
€i)t Cvagcai? of jFauStus. 125 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Nay, toss it off, and make no pother, 
 It will thy heart with joy exalt ; 
 Art to the Devil as a brother, 
 And 'fore a bit of flame wouldst halt ? 
 
 {T/ie 7vitch resolves the circle and Faustus steps out.) 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Now quickly forth ; thou must not rest. 
 
 Witch. 
 May that poor sippit work aright ! 
 
 Mephistophiles {to the witch). 
 
 An I thee a good turn can manifest. 
 Canst mention it upon Walpurgis night. 
 
 Witch. 
 
 Here is a lay, if sometimes sung by you. 
 Particular service will you find indeed. 
 
 Mephistophiles {to Faustus). 
 
 Come, let me be thy Mentor, speed ! 
 
 Thou hast of perspiration need. 
 
 That it may work thy system through and through. 
 
 I'll teach thee afterwards, a noble sloth to prize ; 
 
 And with a blissful ecstasy thou'lt recognize 
 
 Eftsoon how restless Cupid ever hath to do. 
 
126 ^^t CrageKi) of dTauStuS. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Just one glance more into the glass allow ; 
 That pictured maid was all too rare ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Nay, nay, the pattern of all wives shalt thou 
 Soon see i' the. flesh before thee there. 
 
 (Aside.) 
 Thou wilt, now that thou hast this drink, 
 A Helen every female think ! 
 
9i ^tvttU 
 
 Faustus. Margaret passing by. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 My arm and escort may I dare 
 To proifer to you, lady fair ? 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 No gentle am I, beauty've none, 
 Can homewards fare sans any one. 
 
 {Disengages herself, and exit.) 
 
 Faustus. 
 By heavens ! it is a beauteous child ! 
 My sight was never so beguiled ! 
 So virtuous, with such modesty. 
 And something saucy, too, is she. 
 Such ruby lips, a cheek so clear ! 
 Till doomsday I'll forget her ne'er ! 
 How she cast on the ground her eyen. 
 Is graven on this heart of mine ! 
 How curtly she did answer me ! 
 Oh, 'twas a very ecstasy ! 
 
128 W^t CragttJB of dfaustus. 
 
 {Enter MepMstophiles.) 
 List, that maid must thou for me win. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Which one ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 The one that just passed by. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 She? — From her priest, who every sin 
 
 Hath purged her from, came straight, for I 
 
 Behind the chair did slip me nigh. 
 
 It is a little innocent 
 
 Who e'en from nought to shrift her went. 
 
 O'er such my potence faileth me. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Yet fourteen years, at least, hath she. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Like to a deboshed youth dost speak, 
 That every flower for self would seek. 
 And deems no honour or grace there be 
 That mayn't be culled by such as he. 
 Yet every time it comes not off. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Good Master Plausible, enough 
 
 Of all these moral saws you've started ; 
 
 The long and short of it is this : 
 
Hr^t Cragetro of jTauStus. 129 
 
 If that sweet girl to-night you miss 
 
 To give to my embrace, I wis 
 
 By midnight we two shall have parted. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Bethink thee, what may be to do ! 
 A fortnight I should need from you 
 A fair occasion but to choose. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Had I but seven hours' space, indeed, 
 I'd hardly then the devil need 
 So young a creature to seduce ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 E'en like a Frenchman you do prate ! 
 Let this not,' prithee, give annoy. 
 What booteth merely to enjoy? 
 The pleasure is not near so great 
 As when, all round about, that ye. 
 With every kind of flummery. 
 The puppet do prepare and knead, 
 As in romances ye may read. 
 
 Faustus. 
 I need it not to whet my zest. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 A peace to railing. Without jest, 
 And once for all, I say to thee 
 This fair child cannot speedily 
 
1 30 €J)e CragelTB of dTaustus . 
 
 Be won — cannot be stormed, in fine ; 
 We must content ourselves to mine. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Something from that sweet hoard acquire ; 
 Show me the place where she doth rest ; 
 Bring me a kerchief from her breast; 
 A garter from my heart's desire ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 That you may see that I would fain 
 Serve you, and help your end to gain, 
 No moment will we lose, — indeed, 
 This day thee to her room I'll lead. 
 
 Faustus. 
 And shall I see her, win her ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Nay, 
 For at her neighbour's house she'll stay. 
 Meanwhile, in solitude you may, 
 In every hope of near content, 
 Sate you in her environment. 
 
 Faustus. 
 May we go there ? 
 
 Mephistophiles . 
 Too soon 'tis yet. 
 
Clje CrageWtt of dfausitus. 131 
 
 Faustus. 
 See thou some gift for her dost get. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 What, gifts at once ? Bravo, thou wilt succeed in it ! 
 Full many a beauteous spot I know, 
 And treasures buried long ago. 
 Well, I will now prospect a bit. 
 
9i ^mall B^at Boom. 
 
 EVENING. 
 
 Margaret {binding up her hair). 
 
 Somewhat I'd give, could I but say 
 Who was that gentleman to-day, 
 A gallant mien he showed, I wis. 
 And doubtless nobly born he is ; 
 That on his brow could plain be seen. 
 Else would he not so bold have been. 
 
 {Exit.) 
 
 Mephistophiles. Faustus. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Come in, come in here, quietly. 
 
 Faustus {after a short silence). 
 Leave me alone, I beg of thee. 
 
 Mephistophiles {looking round). 
 
 Not every girl so neat would be. 
 
 {Exit?) 
 
Wilt Cragrtp of dTattStuS. 133 
 
 Faustus (Looking round). 
 
 Fair welcome, sweet obscurity 
 That reigneth in this spot divine ! 
 Possess my heart, sweet love-in-agony, 
 That on the dew of hope doth live and pine ! 
 How, all around, there breathes a sense 
 Of order and contentedness ! 
 What plenty in this indigence ! 
 What sense in this poor cell of happiness ! 
 
 {He, throws himself into a leather arm-chair by the bed.) 
 
 Receive me, thou, who hast a world, now gone. 
 
 Received in joy and grief with open arms ! 
 
 How oft about this patriarchal throne. 
 
 In times gone by, have children hung in swarms ! 
 
 Perchance my loved one, grateful for the cheer, 
 
 Of holy Christmas, with round childish cheek. 
 
 Duteous her grandsire's withered hand kissed here. 
 
 I feel, O maid, thy spirit speak 
 
 In plenty and in order neat. 
 
 That, mother-like, doth teach thee day by day. 
 
 The cloth upon the board so daintily to lay, 
 
 And e'en the sand to ripple at thy feet. 
 
 Oh, dearest hand ! Divinely rare ! 
 
 A hut with thee a heavenly kingdom were ! 
 
 And here — 
 
 (He raises the bed-curtain.) 
 
 What thrilling rapture doth me hold ' 
 Here could I while away whole hours ! 
 
134 C]^« Cragetrg of dfaustti;S. 
 
 Here, Nature 'twas, that in thy Hghtest powers, 
 
 The native angel didst unfold ! 
 
 Here lay the child, with life-blood warm, 
 
 Her tender bosom iraplete there ; 
 
 And here did fill and grow that form, 
 
 In God-like image, pure and fair ! 
 
 And thou ? What hath thee hither brought ? 
 How to thy inmost depths art wrought ! 
 What wouldst thou here ? Why is thy heart so sore ? 
 Now, hapless Faustus, know I thee no more ! 
 
 Doth magic spell me here enclose ? 
 
 But now, I scarce desire could stay ; 
 
 Anon, in dream of love I melt away. 
 
 Are we the sport of every breath that blows ? 
 
 And should she now, this moment, enter here. 
 How wouldst thou for thy felony atone ? 
 Thou mighty one, how small appear 
 At her feet lying, faint and prone ! 
 
 Mephistophiles {entering). 
 Haste, haste, I see her below there ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 Hence, hence, I'll ne'er return, I trow ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Here is a case, of weight enow, 
 That I have brought thee from elsewhere. 
 E'en put it forthwith i' the press ; 
 
Ci^e CragrtJw of ^anittti. 1 35 
 
 I swear, 'twill turn her head. Therein 
 I placed some trinkets — I confess, 
 Another girl for you to win. 
 True, child is child, and toy is toy. 
 
 Faustus 
 I know not, shall I ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Wouldst be coy? 
 Belike wouldst add them to thy store ? 
 Then I'd advise you, lusty sir, 
 To utilize the daylight fair. 
 And I be troubled in't no more. 
 I hope thou art no niggard there ! 
 I scratch my head, and twirl my thumb — 
 
 i^He places the casket in the press, and locks it again.) 
 
 Now quick, away ! 
 
 That that sweet tender child soon may 
 
 To thy heart's wish and will succumb. 
 
 Thou lookest as though 
 
 Was't i' the lecture-hall about to go. 
 
 And there, grim and alive, stood thee before 
 
 Physics and Metaphysics hoar ! 
 
 Away! 
 
 {Exeunt.) 
 
 Enter Margaret with a lamp. 
 
 It is so airless here, so hot, 
 
 {Opens the casement.) 
 
136 Wi)t CtagrtD of dTausitus. 
 
 Yet hot 'twas hardly outside there. 
 I feel as — e'en I know not what — 
 Would mother home returned were ! 
 What horror passeth over me — 
 A silly foolish wife I be ! 
 
 {Sings as she undresses^ 
 
 Erst was in Thule of yore, 
 A king, true to the grave ; 
 His dying paramour 
 A golden cup him gave. 
 
 Nought valued he tofore, 
 He drained it dry each bout ; 
 His eyen, they brimmed o'er 
 Each time he drank thereout. 
 
 When he his end divined, 
 Numbering his Hege burgs up, 
 All to his heirs assigned : 
 But not that golden cup ! 
 
 He sat at board royal. 
 Midst all his knights sat he, 
 In high ancestral hall 
 That beetled o'er the sea. 
 
 Up stood that toper hoary, 
 The last glowing draught drank he. 
 And cast the goblet holy 
 Deep down into the sea. 
 
Wtft CragtKB of jTauStuS. 137 
 
 He watched it falling, fill, 
 Sink deep into the sea. 
 His eyes sank, all was still : 
 'Twas the last drop e'er drank he ! 
 
 (She opens the press to put her clothes in, and sees the jewel 
 casket^ 
 
 How came this goodly casket in here ? I 
 
 Did lock the press, of that I've certainty. 
 
 'Tis wondrous strange indeed ; what can there perdue lie ? 
 
 Perchance 'twas brought a pledge to be. 
 
 And mother mine hath lent upon it. 
 
 There on a ribbon hangs a key — 
 
 Will't open it ? I'll venture on it. 
 
 What is this ? Gracious heavens, oh ! 
 
 Never the like have I seen any day ! 
 
 A tire! A peeress e'en could in it go 
 
 Upon the highest holiday. 
 
 How doth this necklet me array ? 
 
 I marvel who owns these line things ? 
 
 (^Puts on the jewels, and goes to the glass.) 
 
 Would that but mine were these earrings ! 
 
 One is forthright transformed thereby ! 
 
 What helpeth beauty — youthful blood ? 
 
 Truly, 'tis all well and good, 
 
 Yet they pass all these things by. 
 
 Flatter half-heartedly and pity. 
 
 All strive for gold. 
 
 To it hold 
 
 Truly all things ! Ah, poor we ! 
 
(Faustus walking up and down absorbed in thought. 
 Enter to him Mephistophiles.) 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 By all-disdained love ! Hell's essence ! Ay, a curse 
 Far bitterer I would swear! Would that I knew a 
 worse ! 
 
 Faustus, 
 What is't ? What doth so sore twinge thee ? 
 Sooth, such a visage saw I ne'er before ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Myself I would unto the Devil give o'er. 
 But that the Devil myself I be ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Hath in thy head aught gone unsound ? 
 It fits thee, like a maniac to rage round ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 To think those jewels that were for Margaret got, 
 A priest hath carried off the lot ! 
 
Ci^e CrastUg of dTauiSttiS. 139 
 
 Her mother seeing it, for the nonce. 
 
 Suspected somewhat in't at once. 
 
 The beldame's nose hath parlous powers ! 
 
 Ever snuffling in her book of hours, 
 
 She sniffs on every chattel again. 
 
 An it be sanctified, or profane. 
 
 And for that jewel-tire, finding clear 
 
 That not much sanctity was there, 
 
 " My child," cries she, " foul-gotten good 
 
 Prisons the soul, and wastes the blood : 
 
 We'll to God's Mother dedicate it, 
 
 On heavenly Manna we'll be sated ! " 
 
 A wry mouth drew the little maid : 
 
 " Doth the gift-horse halt? " to herself, she said, 
 
 " In good sooth, godless can't be he 
 
 That brought those jewels here so featly 1 " 
 
 Her mother sends to fetch a priest, 
 
 Who scarce had understood the jest, 
 
 Pleased at this aspect of the question, 
 
 " Yea, 'tis a righteous thought," quoth he, 
 
 " Who conquereth hath victory ; 
 
 Our Mother Church hath good digestion, 
 
 Whole territories hath she ate. 
 
 And ne'er been over-eaten yet. 
 
 The Church, good ladies, for the rest. 
 
 Alone can ill-got goods digest ! " 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Nay, that is universal too : 
 
 A Jew, or king, the like could do. 
 
14° Cj^e Cragetfo of iffnuituS. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 He straight swept up brooch, chain, and ring, 
 
 As 'twere but breath, a naughty thing ; 
 
 No more thanks gave he for this treasure 
 
 Than an 'twere nuts, — a pottle measure. 
 
 " Heaven would," he vowed, "their meed provide." 
 
 And they were vastly edified ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 And Margaret ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Restless is in mood, 
 Knows neither what she would, or should ; 
 The jewels day and night broods o'er, 
 Of him who brought them, even more. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Poor heart, her trouble saddens me ; 
 Get new jewels, see they richer be ! 
 The first were nothing much, I wot. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 To you, my lord, 'tis easy, is it not ? < 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 And order it as I'd have thee do. 
 Avail thee of her neighbour too. 
 Hence, fiend ! Be not invertebrate ! 
 A new jewel-tire go fetch me straight. 
 
Wift Cragctri) of jTausltuif. 141 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 I go, my lord, with goodly gree. 
 
 {Exif Fausfus.) 
 
 Your love-struck fool would blow away 
 The sun and moon and stars, that he 
 Might make his sweetheart but a holiday ! 
 
 {Exit.) 
 
Martha (alone). 
 
 God's pardon with my husband be ! 
 He has not acted well by me. 
 Off goes he i' the world to roam, 
 And leaves me in the straw at home.. 
 Good sooth, the man I ne'er did thwart, 
 God knows, I loved him from my heart ! 
 
 ( Weeps.) 
 Perchance he's dead ! Ah, cruel fate ! 
 Would I had the certificate ! 
 
 Margaret (enters). 
 Martha ! 
 
 Martha, 
 What is't, my Margery ? 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 My knees scarce bare me from the ground ! 
 Another casket I have found 
 Within the press, of ebony. 
 
And things beyond expression there, 
 Far richer than the others were ! 
 
 Martha. 
 
 Thy mother, then, must thou not tell, 
 
 Or straight to the Church they'll go as well. 
 
 Margaret. 
 Just look at them — nay, only see ! 
 
 Martha (putting them on her). 
 A lucky creature must thou be ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Alas ! no person dare I meet, 
 Arrayed like this, in church or street ! 
 
 Martha. 
 
 Come oft to me an hour to pass. 
 In secret deck thee with them here ; 
 And do thou walk an hour or two before the glass : 
 We will enjoy them, never fear ! 
 Then some excuse we'll have, a holiday. 
 To let the people see them in a gradual way, 
 A bit chain first, and then a pearl i' the ear ; 
 Nought will thy mother mark, — or we'll beguile her, 
 dear. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Whoever could have both these caskets brought ? 
 I fear it can't be as it ought ! 
 
144 5[I)f CtrageUg of jTauStuS. 
 
 (A hwck^ 
 Good heavens, is my mother there ? 
 
 Martha {peeping through the blind). 
 It is a stranger. " Enter, sir ! " 
 
 Mephistophiles {entering). 
 
 I made bold to come in straightway, 
 And must the ladies' pardon pray. 
 
 {Bows to Margaret.) 
 
 Dame Martha Swordling I would ask to see. 
 
 Martha, 
 What would you say, sir ? I am she. 
 
 Mephistophiles {aside, to Martlia). 
 
 I know you now, nay, that will do. 
 While you've got quality with you. 
 Pardon the freedom I have ta'en, 
 This afternoon I'll come again. 
 
 Martha. 
 
 Think, child, of all things on the earth ! 
 He thought thou wast of gentle birth ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 A poor young girl of humble blood ; 
 Alas, fair sir, you're far too good ! 
 Tire and jewels are not my own. 
 
Wi)t Cragetrn of dTauituS. 145 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Nay, 'tis not the mere gems alone, 
 'Tis such a mien, a glance so clear, 
 I am rejoiced I may stay here ! 
 
 Martha. 
 What brings you, sir ? I do long sore — 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Would that a gladder tale I bore ! 
 
 I hope you'll not blame me, unweeting : 
 
 Your husband's dead, and sends his greeting ! 
 
 Martha. 
 
 What, dead ? That true heart — misery ! 
 My husband dead ! Ah me, I die ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 Nay, gossip, be not desperate ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 And hear the sad tale I relate. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Of love 'twould cure me all my life ! 
 A loss would kill me, sure, with grief! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 By joy is grief, by grief is joy incurred. 
 
146 W^t CragctJp of dFau^tuiS. 
 
 Martha. 
 Tell me of his last days, I prithee ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 He lies in Padua interred. 
 By the good St. Anthony ; 
 In a fair consecrated grave, 
 Cool rest eternal there to have. 
 
 Martha. 
 Is there nought else for me you bring ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Yea, a request both great and weighty : 
 See that ye do three hundred masses for him sing ; 
 And for the rest, my pocket's empty. 
 
 Martha. 
 What, not a token, not a trinket ? 
 That every prentice craftsman for keepsake lays by. 
 Saved in his wallet carefully ; 
 And rather'd starve or beg, i' sooth ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Madam, indeed, I'm grieved to think it ; 
 Yet he did not his money dissipate in truth, 
 And did repent him of his sins too, sore ; 
 Yea, and his evil luck he did bewail still more ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 Alas, that mankind must so hapless be ! 
 Ay, other requiems for him will I also say. 
 
Wl)t CrageUi) of dTnuSttts. 147 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Married thou dost deserve to be, straightway ! 
 Thou art a charming child, truly. 
 
 Margaret. 
 Oh no, that is not for me yet. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 If not a husband, then a squire shalt get. 
 Of all heaven's gifts, the greatest charm 
 Is such a dear one on one's arm ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 'Tis not the custom of our land. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Custom or not, 'tis done, I understand. 
 
 V Martha. 
 
 Nay, tell me all. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 By his death-bed stood I, 
 Just better 'twas than a dung-hill, 
 Of rotten straw. Yet died he as a Christian still. 
 And much more to his score I found that there did lie : 
 " How thoroughly I must myself despise. 
 Thus to desert my trade, my wife," he cries ! 
 "The memory killeth me, in fine; 
 Would she forgave me while that I still live ! " 
 L 2 
 
148 Ci)e CrageKB of dfau«tu3. 
 
 Martha {weeping). 
 Good man ! I long ago did him forgive ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 " And yet, God knows, 'twas more her fault than mine ! " 
 
 Martha. 
 There lied he ! What to lie at the grave's brink thus ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 In his last throes, no doubt, delirious, 
 If I have half a cognoscence. 
 
 " I'd had not," thus he spoke, "to gape my time away, 
 First children, then I'd bread to get each day. 
 Bread in the very widest sense ; 
 Nor could I even eat in peace my scanty lot ! " 
 
 Martha. 
 Had he all faith, all kindly love forgot, 
 The drudgery of night and day ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Not so, he thus recalled them all most lovingly: 
 " Whenas,'' says he, " that Malta I forsook, 
 Most earnestly I prayed for wife and child ; 
 The heavens above on us then smiled, 
 For our good ship a Turkish vessel took 
 That treasure of the mighty Sultan's bore. 
 Then bravery was rewarded there, 
 And I, like others, my just portion saw. 
 And took my own, a goodly share ! " 
 
%i)t CragcUn of JTauStuS. 149 
 
 Martha. 
 Eh ! And did he bury it, think you ? Ha ? 
 
 Mephist.ophiles. 
 
 Wlio knows ? — to the four winds they scattered are. 
 A damsel fair soon made him her election 
 As he, a stranger, wandered Naples o'er ; 
 She gave him such true marks of her affection 
 That to his sainted end the signs he bore. 
 
 Martha. 
 
 The wretch ! The robber of his childer ! 
 And all this misery — want beside, 
 Could not this scandalous life hinder ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Yea, mark you, therefore was't he died. 
 
 Were mine the case, in place of you 
 
 In mourning a modest year I'd pass. 
 
 And then would at my ease seek out a treasure new. 
 
 Martha. 
 
 But like my first one was, alas ! 
 
 To find another in this world I doubt. 
 
 There scarce could be a heartier dolt than mine ! 
 
 Only too given he was to gad about. 
 
 To foreign women, and foreign wine, 
 
 And those accursed dice to touch. 
 
ISO Ci)e Cvagrt^ of dfaustus. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Well, well, 'twould have been give and take 
 
 If on his side about as much 
 
 Allowance he had wished to make. 
 
 Upon such terms, i' faith, I vow, 
 
 I would exchange rings with you now ! 
 
 Martha. 
 
 Oh, sir, you're pleased with me to jest ! 
 
 Mephistophiles (Aside). 
 
 NoAV must I hasten off from, here ! 
 
 The Devil himself to's word she'd hold, I fear. <" 
 
 {To Margaret.) 
 Maiden, is thy heart at rest ? 
 
 Margaret, 
 What is your meaning, sir? 
 
 Mephistophiles {Aside) . 
 
 Thou sweet simplicity ! 
 
 {Aloud. ) 
 Ladies, farewell. 
 
 Margaret. 
 Farewell. 
 
 Martha. 
 Oh, speedily tell me, 
 Fain would I have some voucher now. 
 Where 'twas my treasure died, where buried, when and 
 how? 
 
Wilt CragcUB of JTauStuS. 151 
 
 I ever loved with method to proceed, 
 Would, i' the weekly bills, his death fain read. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Two witnesses, good dame, shall it attest, 
 The truth, at least, make manifest ; 
 A delicate comrade have I too, 
 Whom I'll take to the judge for you. 
 I'll bring him hither. 
 
 Martha. 
 Do it, pray. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 And will this maid be with you, eh ? 
 A brave boy, many lands hath seen. 
 With maids too hath a gallant mien. 
 
 Margaret. 
 Should blush before you, gentlemen, indeed ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Before no king on earth you need. 
 
 Martha. 
 
 Behind my house, i' the garden, then. 
 This evening we'll await you, gentlemen. 
 
a MrttU 
 
 Faustus. Mephistophiles. 
 
 Faustus. 
 How now, how goes it, will't soon be ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Bravo ! Art thou afire ? Anon 
 Margaret shall be thine own. 
 
 This e'en thou shalt her at her neighbour Martha's see ; 
 A quean, as 'twere expressly made 
 To ply the pimp and gipsy trade. 
 
 Faustus. 
 'Tis well. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 A something's asked of us, however. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Sure, one good turn deserves another, 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 We merely do a valid witness need 
 
 Her husband's limbs are lying outstretched indeed 
 
 In holy ground in Padua. 
 
Cijt CragttJM of dTauStus. 153 
 
 Faustus. 
 Most wise ! Then we must first upon that journey go. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Sancta Simplicitas ! We have no need of that ; 
 Witness, e'en dost thou little know. 
 
 Faustus. 
 If thou no better plan hast, it will be nought so. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Oh, saintly man ! Art thou thereat ! 
 
 Is this the first time ever thou didst bear, 
 
 In all thy life long, false witness ? 
 
 Hast ne'er of God, the world, and all that in it is, 
 
 Of man, what stirreth in that head and heart of his. 
 
 Not given the definition with a power rare, 
 
 A front of brass, a breast to dare ? 
 
 Of that thou knowest, if thou dost 
 
 Consider it aright (confess't thou must), 
 
 As much as of Sir Swordling's last affair. 
 
 Faustus. 
 A liar and sophist art, and e'er wilt be ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Yea, an one did not any deeper see. 
 Oh, thou wilt not, with honour fair, 
 To-morrow fool poor Margaret, and swear 
 Thou, soul and all, dost dote on her ! 
 
154 CTj c Cra gt U^ o f jTaufitus. 
 
 Faustus. 
 And from my heart ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 'Tis very well. 
 Then there's eternal love and truth, 
 Your one o'ermastering force ; i' sooth, 
 Wilt from thy inmost heart that tell? 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Let be, I will. When chafes the mind, 
 
 When for our sense — its turbulence — 
 
 A name we seek, but none can find ; 
 
 Then through the world, all sense agog, to stray. 
 
 And all its highest terms assay. 
 
 And that with which I burn, the flame, 
 
 Eternal, endless, have to name — 
 
 Is that a devilish play of lies ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Yet I am right. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Nay, list to me ! 
 I prithee mark, and spare my lungs : . 
 Who would keep the straight path, and hath not got two 
 
 tongues, 
 He straight will be. 
 
 But come, this glut of talk doth me disgust, 
 Thou'rt right indeed — I do't because I must ! 
 
9[ (SarlitiT, 
 
 Margaret upon Faustus' si^/ra. Martha and Mephis- 
 TOPHILES, walking up and down. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 The gentleman doth spare me, well I wis, 
 
 Doth him abase, not to shame me. 
 
 A traveller accustomed is 
 
 To be content, for charity. 
 
 Too well wot I, that my poor discourse can 
 
 Scarce entertain so experienced a man ! 
 
 Faustus, 
 
 One glance from thee, a word, doth please me more 
 Than all that's in the world of lore ! 
 
 (Kisses her hand. ) 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Nay, do not irk yourself! How could you kiss it e'er. 
 
 So ugly and so rough it be ! 
 
 What is there that I've not had to prepare ? 
 
 My mother's far too strict with me ! 
 
 (They pass on.) 
 
156 Wtft CragiKu of dfaustus. 
 
 Martha. 
 And you, sir, must you always travel it ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Alas, that work and duty urge away ! 
 With how much pain some places doth one quit, 
 And dare not, but for once, e'en, stay ! 
 
 Martha. 
 
 In life's heyday, well may't be done, 
 Freely to wander all the wide world o'er ; 
 But the ill times will come anon ! 
 To slink alone into the grave, a bachelor. 
 Can ne'er be good for any one. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 With dread I see it loom afar ! 
 
 Martha. 
 Then, worthy sir, do you in time beware ! 
 
 (TJiey pass on.) 
 Margaret. 
 
 Yea, out of sight is out of mind, 
 And courtesy to you is smooth ! 
 Full many a friend you have, in sooth. 
 In whom more sense than me you find. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Oh, sweetest, do believe me, that which we call sense 
 Oft's more conceit and shallowness. 
 
1Ki)t CragtKo of dTauStusf. 157 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 In what way ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Alas, that simpleness and innocence may 
 Ne'er know itself, and its divine valence ! 
 That meekness, lowliness — of all gifts true 
 All-bounteous Nature can bestow, most high — 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Think of me for a little matter, I 
 
 E'en time enough, indeed, shall have to think of you ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 Thou'rt much alone withal ? 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Our household, truly, is but small, 
 
 Yet must it be looked after all. 
 
 We do not keep a maid; I must cook, sweep and knit. 
 
 Sew,— early and late be on my feet; 
 
 My mother, also, is in every wit 
 
 So nicely neat ! 
 
 Not that, indeed, she need such thriftiness practise : 
 
 What others do, more reasonably might we ; 
 
 My father left a pretty property. 
 
 Garden and cot, — outside the town it lies. 
 
 Nathless my days are quieter than of yore : 
 
 My brother a soldier is. 
 
 My little sister's dead. 
 
 For that child, all my love was certainly needed, 
 
158 C^^e Cragrtw of dFaitStus. 
 
 Yet gladly would I undertake those pains once 
 
 more ! 
 So dear to me she was. 
 
 Faustus. 
 An angel, if like thee ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 I brought her up, and tenderly she loved me ; 
 After my father's death 'twas she was born. 
 We almost thought the mother gone, 
 /So weak and ailing then she lay; 
 Nor did she mend, save slowly, day by day. 
 She could not, therefore, dream herself 
 Of suckling the unhappy elf ; 
 And so I brought it up alone 
 On milk and water, — so 'twas my own. 
 In my arms, and on my lap too, 
 It crowed, and tossed itself, and grew. 
 
 Faustus. 
 The purest joy thou doubtlessly hadst there. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Doubtless, though many an hour full hard to bear. 
 
 The little cradle stood o'ernight 
 
 Beside my bed, — it scarce could stir but I 
 
 Awoke forthright ; 
 
 Anon it must be fed, then laid me by ; 
 
 Anon, an 'twould not hush it, go 
 
 From bed I must, and dandling walk it to and fro, 
 
Ci^e Cragctri) of jFaitStuS. 159 
 
 Yet early at the wash-tub be also ; 
 
 To market then, then to the household see, 
 
 And as to-day, the morrow be. 
 
 That is not always pleasant, sir, I weet ; 
 
 Nathless, it makes meals relish, and rest sweet. 
 
 (They pass on.) 
 Martha. 
 
 Poor women ! They're in evil case, indeed ! 
 A bachelor is very hard to turn ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 'Tis but a somebody like you I'd need, 
 If I a better way should learn. 
 
 Martha. 
 
 Say sooth, sir, — Have you yet no person found ? 
 Is not your heart in some one somewhere bound ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 " One's hearth and a brave wife," the saw 
 Doth say, " than gold and pearls is worthy more." 
 
 Martha. 
 I mean, have you no wish thereto conceived ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 I have been everywhere right courteously received. 
 
 Martha. 
 I would say, — never serious fancy in your breast ? 
 
] 6o Ciit CragtUo of JfauStus. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 With women one should ne'er presumptuously jest. 
 
 Martha, 
 Ah, you misunderstand me ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 I grieve heartily ! 
 Yet understand, — ^you're very kind to me. 
 
 (They pass on.) 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 My little angel ! Didst me recognize 
 As soon as I came in the garden ? 
 
 Margaret. 
 Did you not see it ? I cast down my eyes. 
 
 Faustus. 
 And thou the freedom that I took dost pardon, 
 My impudence made me to dare, 
 As from the cathedral didst fare ? 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 It startled me, — 't had happened ne'er before ; 
 No one could any evil say of me. 
 Alas, thought I, is't in my bearing he 
 Perchance aught forward or unseemly saw ? 
 It was as't struck him that he might, 
 Indeed, with this wench carry on forthright. 
 
€^e Cragrti) of dfausittiS. 1 6 1 
 
 Yet will I own, I know not what did cause 
 A feeling in your favour straight to rise here too. 
 Nathless, sore angered with myself I was 
 That I could not be angrier with you. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Sweet love ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 Nay, stay ! 
 {She picks an Aster, and pulls the petals one by one.) 
 
 Faustus. 
 What is't? A posy shall it be ? 
 
 Margaret. 
 Nay, 'tis nought but a sport. 
 
 Faustus. 
 How? 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Go, you'll mock at me. 
 {She pulls, and murmurs to herself.) 
 
 Faustus. 
 What mumiurest thou ? 
 
 Margaret {half aloud). 
 
 He loves me — loves me not. 
 
 M 
 
1 62 C]&s CraatTJn of dfauiStuS. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Thou sweet reflex from heaven got ! 
 
 Margaret (continuing). 
 Loves me — not — loves me — not — 
 
 {Pulling the last fetal, ivith frank pleasure.) 
 He loves me ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 'Tis so, dear child ! Hold this flower-oracle 
 
 A message from the Gods— he loveth thee ! 
 
 Dost thou know what that means ? He loveth thee ! 
 
 {Takes both her hands.) 
 
 Margaret. 
 I tremble so ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Oh,, do not tremble ! Let this look, 
 
 This pressure of my hands proclaim 
 
 What is unspeakable ! 
 
 To yield oneself up wholly, and to feel 
 
 A joy that must eternal be ! 
 
 Eternal ! — for its end would mean despair ! 
 
 No, no ! No end, no end ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 {Presses his hands, releases herself and runs away. He 
 remains a moment in thought, then follows her.) 
 
 Martha {coming forward). 
 Night falls ! 
 
Ci)e CragtilD of JPau^tus. 163 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Yea, and we must our steps retrace. 
 
 Martha. 
 
 I'd bade ye to stay longer here, 
 
 But that this is a sadly slanderous place ; 
 
 As though none nought to do had, 'twould appear, 
 
 And nought to see about, 
 
 But gape upon their neighbour's gangings out. 
 
 And one gets talked about, let one do what one may. 
 
 And where are our young couple ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Flown up that walk there : 
 The giddy butterflies ! 
 
 Martha. 
 He seems wrapped up in her. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 And she in him. So runs the world away ! 
 
a hummer-louse* 
 
 (Margaret runs in, hides behind the door, puts Iter finger 
 to Jier lips, and peeps through the chinks^ 
 
 Margaret. 
 He comes ! 
 
 Faustus {entering. 
 Ah, rogue ! so thou'dst tease me ! 
 Thou'rt caught ! 
 
 {Kisses her.) 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 {Embracing hint, and returning the kiss.) 
 
 With all my heart, thou best one, I love thee ! 
 
 Mephistophiles {knocks). 
 
 Faustus {stamping). 
 
 Who's there ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 A friend. 
 
 Faustus. 
 A beast ! 
 
Ttis CragtlfB of ^austui. 165 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 'Tis time to part, surely. 
 
 Martha (entering). 
 Yes, sir, 'tis late indeed. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Escort thee, then, may I ? 
 
 Margaret. 
 Mother would — fare thee well ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Must I then leave thee now ? 
 Farewell ! 
 
 Martha. 
 
 God be wi' ye ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 Right soon to meet, I trow ! 
 (Exeunt Faustus and. Mephistophiles^ 
 
 Margaret. 
 Kind heavens ! What such a man hath'not 
 Conserved in his headpiece got ! 
 Abashed before him there I stay. 
 And to all matters answer " yea." 
 But a poor foolish child I be, 
 I can't think what he sees in me ! 
 
 {Exit ) 
 
91 form anil Cabent. 
 
 Faustus (alone). 
 Spirit sublime ! Thou gavest me, gavest me all 
 That I did ask. Thou didst me not for nought 
 Thy countenance in fiery flame reveal. 
 Thou gavest unto me glorious Nature for my realm, 
 With power to feel it, and enjoy it. Not 
 Mere crude acquaintance, cold and wondering — Thou 
 Didst grant me in her inmost heart to see, 
 As in the bosom of a friend it were. 
 The ranks of living creatures Thou didst lead 
 Before me ; and my brethren Thou dost teach 
 Me recognize in water, air, still groves ! 
 When stormy winds roar through the' woods, and rattle, 
 And giant pines o'erturn, and neighbouring boughs. 
 And neighbouring stems, in sweeping ruin crash, 
 While to their fall the hill yields hollow thunder, 
 Then dost Thou lead me to safe caves, and showest 
 Me then myself, and eke my inmost heart — 
 Deep secret wonders there revealed are. 
 Doth the clear moon rise up before my eyes, 
 With soothing beams, — then ail around me float, 
 From rocky walls, and from dank underwood, 
 
C]J)t Cragcig ol dTau^tus. 1 6 7 
 
 The silvery phantoms of the antique world, 
 And soften meditation's joy severe. 
 
 Oh ! that to man nought e'er will perfect be, 
 
 I now am conscious. With the ecstasy 
 
 That lifts me near and nearer to the Gods, 
 
 Thou gavest me the companion, that no more 
 
 I can forego, — though cold and malapert ; 
 
 In mine own eyes he lowers me, and to nought, 
 
 With one word's breath, doth all Thy gifts transmute : 
 
 Within my breast he fans a raging iire 
 
 For that fair image, ever busily ; 
 
 I waver from desire, and would enjoy. 
 
 And midst enjoyment, languish for desire. 
 
 {Enter Mephistophiks.) 
 
 Mephistophiles . 
 
 Hast of this life almost sufBciency ? 
 How can its charm so long continue 
 'Tis well enougti once in a way to try, 
 But then again to something new. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Would thou hadst aught to do beside, 
 Than me to plague o' this fair day ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Well, well, I'd gladly let thee bide ; 
 Thou darest not that in earnest say. 
 Comrade, in thee, rude, froward, sans reason, 
 
1 68 C]f)c Cragclfg of jTattsitua. 
 
 Truly my loss would be but small ! 
 One hath one's hands filled, all the day, hath one ; 
 AVhat pleaseth him, and what to leave alone, 
 Ne'er i n his worship's face one sees at all ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 That's just the right tone to take now ! 
 
 Sure, he'd be thanked that he hath me annoyed ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Poor son of earth ! what life hadst thou 
 
 Without my ministry enjoyed ! 
 
 From whimzies of the imagination, I 
 
 Thy mind long since have rendered to thee clear. 
 
 And were I not, thou presently 
 
 Hadst walked off from this earthly sphere. 
 
 In caverns and in rocky clefts why hast 
 
 Thy time like any hoot-owl passed ? 
 
 Why dost thou from damp moss, and eke from dripping 
 
 stone, 
 All like a toad, lick nutrition ? 
 A rare sweet pastime^ sure, it be : 
 I wot the " Doctor" 's still in thee ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Dost understand what new-bom vigour springs 
 
 Within me in these desert wanderings ? 
 
 Yea, couldst thou of my joy one wit 
 
 Conceive, sure Devil enough thou art to grudge me it- 
 
€i)c EragttJu of dfauStui. 169 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Oh, super-mundane ecstasy ! 
 
 O' nights out on the dewy mount to lie, 
 
 Grasp heaven and earth, with bliss intoxicated. 
 
 And to a godhead seek to be inflated ! 
 
 To pierce the marrow of the earth in thought, 
 
 Thy breast with all the six days' labour fraught ; 
 
 Enjoy in pride of strength what — I scarce know. 
 
 Then, love-inspired, into the All o'erflow, 
 
 The earthy part entirely gone. 
 
 And then the high intuition — 
 
 ^{Makes a gesture.) 
 Doth close, — I hardly dare say how. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Shame on thee ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. \ 
 
 I dare say that likes thee not ? 
 To cry shame on it, thou the right hast got. 
 Before polite ears one may not come out 
 With what polite hearts may not do without. 
 In brief, I grudge thee not the luxury. 
 By times, of cozening thyself with a lie. 
 But 'twill not hold thee long, nathless, 
 Thou'lt have to drop it presently. 
 Or, should it last, thou'lt fretted be 
 To frenzy, horror, and distress. 
 Enough of this. At home lieth thy sweetheart. 
 
1 70 Ci^e CragelJD of Jfaustug. 
 
 All things around seem cramped and dree. 
 
 Thou and her thoughts are ne'er apart ; 
 
 O'ermastering is her love for thee ! 
 
 First came thy passion, all flowing o'er, 
 
 As a brooklet overfloweth when charged with melted snow ; 
 
 Into her heart thou didst it pour, 
 
 And now thy brook again is low. 
 
 In place of enthroning thyself i' the grove. 
 
 It seemeth me, his Highness might 
 
 Think it well he should requite 
 
 The poor young monkey for her love. 
 
 Time seemeth piteously long. 
 
 She at her casement stands, marks the clouds fly 
 
 Over the ancient town-walls by : 
 
 " Would that I were a bird," so runs her song, 
 
 For half the night, and all day long. 
 
 Mostly she's sad, though she be sometimes gay. 
 
 Weeps sometimes, till she's no more tears. 
 
 Again she's quiet, as't appears — 
 
 Yet loves alway ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 Serpent, serpent ! 
 
 Mephistophiles (aside). 
 'Tis well an I thee hent ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Miscreant villain, get thee hence 1 
 Name not that beauteous girl to me ! 
 
Wi)t CragtUg of dfaustusi. 1 7 1 
 
 Let not desire for her sweet body be 
 
 Again brought 'fore my half-distracted sense ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 What's to be done ? She thinks that thou hast flown ; 
 And so thou hast, too, in a fashion. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 I'm nigh her, and however far were I, 
 I never can forget her, never lose her ; 
 Yea, e'en the Sacrament I do envy 
 When that those lips of hers do it encounter ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 "lis well, my friend ! Oft have I envied thee 
 The twin pair that so sweet midst roses be ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 Go, Pimp ! 
 
 Mephistophiles, 
 
 Already ! Thou dost rail, while laugh must I. 
 The God that fashioned youth and maid. 
 Good sooth. Himself did know this noblest trade 
 Of making opportunity. 
 But on ! Sure, 'tis an awful doom 
 That thou into thy sweetheart's room, 
 And not to death must go ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 What heavenly joy in her arms to be pressed !^ 
 Oh, let me warm me on her breast ! 
 
172 '€l)t CragcUi) of jFatiiStuS. 
 
 Do I not ever feel her woe ? 
 
 An outcast am I not, and homeless made ? 
 
 A monster, without aim or peace, 
 
 That doth from rock to rock, like unto a cascade, 
 
 Swirl fervid, raging, down to the abyss ! 
 
 On one side, she, with childish unwaked mind, 
 
 In lowly cot, on narrow Alpine lea, 
 
 And all her homely needs confined 
 
 Within her small world's boundary. 
 
 And I, abhorred of God, had not enough content 
 
 That 1 the rocks uptore 
 
 And all to rent. 
 
 But I must undermine her peace as well ? 
 
 This sacrifice was due to thee, O Hell ! 
 
 Fiend, help this anxious time t'abbreviate ! 
 
 What must be, let be speedily ! 
 
 On my head fall whate'er may be her fate, 
 
 And let me with her ruined be ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 How it doth seethe and glow again ! 
 
 C70 in, thou fool, and comfort her. 
 
 Where such a head seeks out a way in vain, 
 
 He thinks at once the end is near ! 
 
 Hail him who holdeth him bravely ! 
 
 Thou'st otherwise a bit of devilry. 
 
 Nought i' the world is more loathsome to me 
 
 Than a devil in despondency ! 
 
Margaret {at her spinning-wheel, alone). 
 
 My peace is gone, 
 My heart is sore, 
 I ne'er shall find it 
 Nevermore ! 
 
 Him not to see 
 Is death to me, 
 The Universe 
 Is bitterness ! 
 
 My wretched head 
 Is fairly crazed, 
 My wretched senses 
 All are mazed. 
 
 My peace is gone, 
 My heart is sore, 
 I ne'er shall find it 
 Nevermore ! 
 
 From my window 
 Him seek alone. 
 
1 74 t^^t f ragetJi) of jTauStus, 
 
 Only for him 
 I leave my home. 
 
 His noble gait, 
 His form divine, 
 The smile of 's mouth. 
 The power of 's eyen ! 
 
 And his discourse 
 A charmed flow is, 
 The clasp of 's hand, 
 And, ah ! his kiss ! 
 
 My peace is gone, 
 My heart is sore, 
 I ne'er shall find it 
 Nevermore ! 
 
 My breast doth yearn 
 With him to fare, 
 Ah, dared I hold 
 And keep him there ! 
 
 And kiss him too, 
 As I'd fain kiss ; 
 In kissing him 
 I'd melt in bless ! 
 
iBait6a*s (garlifn, 
 
 Margaret. Faustus. 
 Margaret. 
 
 Promise me, Henry ! — ■ 
 
 Faustus, 
 All I can. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Well, tell me then, how holdest thou Godliness ? 
 
 I know thee for a true good man; 
 
 And yet, methinks, thou dost not much profess. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Enough, my child ! Thou feel'st to thee I'm good ; 
 
 For those I love, I'd give my life and blood. 
 
 I would no one or of his faith or Church bereave. 
 
 Margaret. 
 That is not right ; one should believe. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Should one ? 
 
T 7 6 T^t Cragtlf^ nf dfduStus. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Ah ! could I influence thee at all ! 
 Thou honourest not the Sacraments withal. 
 
 Faustus. 
 I honour them. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 But yet 'tis without heart. 
 In Mass or in confession long hast thou ta'en no part. 
 Hast faith in God ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 My love, who may aver 
 That he believeth in the Deity ? 
 Ask priest, or ask philosopher, 
 Their answer seems but mockery 
 On the inquirer. 
 
 Margaret. 
 Then dost not beheve ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 My darUng one, do not me misconceive ; 
 
 Who dare Him name, 
 
 And who proclaim 
 
 Belief in Him? 
 
 Who assume. 
 
 And who presume 
 
 To say, " I do not believe ? " 
 
Cf)e CvageUp of dFausitus!. 177 
 
 Th' Omniscient, 
 
 Th' Omnipotent, 
 
 Knows and upholds He not 
 
 Thee, me. Himself? 
 
 Are not the heavens above us arched ? 
 
 Doth not the earth beneath he firm ? 
 
 And do not the eternal stars 
 
 With benign glance arise ? 
 
 Gaze I not on thee eye to eye ? 
 
 And do not all things 
 
 To head and heart now fly, 
 
 Wrapped in eternal mystery, 
 
 Invisible, yet seen beside thee ? 
 
 Fill to its expanse therewith thy heart. 
 
 And when by its sensation blessed thou art. 
 
 Call it then what thou wilt : 
 
 Call't Bliss, Heart, Love, or God, — 
 
 I have no name for it. 
 
 Sensation is the whole. 
 
 Name is but sound and smoke. 
 
 Shrouding heaven's glow. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 That is right fair and seemly so ; 
 The parson says about the same, 
 But puts his words another way. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 So do all regions say, 
 
 All hearts the heavenly days beneath 
 
178 Cl)e CraaeUg of dTausitus. 
 
 Each ia his mother tongue : 
 Why not in mine then too ? 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Put so, it seemeth to be true. 
 
 And yet there's somewhat in it awry, 
 
 For thou hast no Christianity. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Dear child ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 It long hath troubled me 
 To see thee in such company. 
 
 Faustus. 
 What meanest thou ? 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 The man thou with thee hast 
 I do from my most inward soul detest. 
 In all my life I never have 
 Aught seen, that such a heart-cramp gave, 
 As this man's odious physiognomy. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Little one, do not fearful be ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 His presence stirs my very blood. 
 To others wish I nought but good. 
 
Cf)e CragctJi) of JFautitut!. 179 
 
 Yet whensoe'er I long thy face to see, 
 A secret horror of that man takes me. 
 I reckon him a rascal too — 
 God pardon me, if I him injury do ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 Such sort of folk must always be. 
 
 Margaret. 
 His like should never live with me ! 
 The moment he hath the threshold passed, 
 His looks with mockery are o'ercast, 
 And part with wrath. 
 One sees in nought no sympathy he hath. 
 Upon his brow in large 'tis writ, 
 That he to love no soul is fit. 
 I feel so happy on thy arm. 
 So free, so unreservedly warm, 
 And yet his presence doth all feeling in me cow ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 Oh, thou foreboding angel, thou ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 It so o'ermasters me, 
 
 That wheresoe'er he near us may. 
 
 E'en doubt I that my love still holds for thee ! 
 
 Nor in his presence can I ever pray — 
 
 And that eats in my heart : — You too 
 
 Must feel it, Henry, as I do ? 
 
 N 2 
 
i8o Wi)t CrageilD of dFaustus. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Antipathy 'tis thou hast ta'en there. 
 
 Margaret. 
 I must now go. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Oh, may I ne'er 
 Pressed to thy bosom one short hour remain, 
 Thee breast to breast and soul to soul once strain ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Ah ! if alone I did but sleep, 
 I'd gladly leave the door to-night a-latch. 
 But mother doth not slumber deep. 
 And should she us two chance to catch, 
 I'd die upon the spot, indeed ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Angel mine, there is no need : 
 Here is a phial, three drops in all, 
 Given in her drink will make 
 Her in a natural and a deep sleep fall. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 What would I not do for thy sake ! 
 I hope it will not hurtful prove ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 If't did, would I commend it, love ? 
 
CI)e Cragettu oE dTaudtuS. 
 
 Margarkt. 
 
 Do I thee, best of mea, but see, 
 I know not what doth force me to thy will. 
 Already have I done so much for thee 
 That, yet to do, scarce aught is left me still ! 
 
 (Exit) 
 
 Mephistophiles (enters). 
 Is the young monkey gone ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Hast thou eaves-dropped again ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 I took in every word distinctly : 
 The doctor through his catechism was ta'en ? 
 I hope that it will well agree. 
 All girls, indeed, to mark are ever fain 
 An one be smug and pious i' the old way ; 
 They think, doth he bow there, he will them too obey. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Thou monster, dost thou fail to see 
 
 How this faithful loving soul. 
 
 With her creed's truth impressed, 
 
 Which sole can be 
 
 Her happiness, should feel a sacred dole 
 
 That she must hold as lost the man that she loves best ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Thou hyper-sensitive sensuous squire, 
 A girl hath ta'en thee by the nose ! 
 
Ci)e Ci-agttiB of dPa«fitu«. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Thou spawn, misgot of filth and fire ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 And what a mastery, too, of physiognomy she shows ! 
 She feels, she knows not how, forsooth, when I am by ; 
 My mask a hidden meaning doth portend. 
 She feels I am a demon certainly, 
 Perhaps indeed, the very fiend ? 
 Well, well, to-night — 
 
 Faustus. 
 What's that to thee ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 There's pleasure in it too for me. 
 
9it tbe jTiJuntain* 
 
 ■ Margaret and Lizzy with pitchers, 
 
 Lizzy. 
 Hast nought of Barbara heard said ? 
 
 Margaret. 
 No word. I seldom come in people's way. 
 
 Lizzy. 
 
 'Tis truth, Sibyl told me to-day : 
 She, too, at last hath played the jade ! 
 That comes of pride, forsooth ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 How so ? 
 
 Lizzy. 
 
 It stinks ! 
 She feedeth two, whene'er she eats and drinks. 
 
 Margaret, 
 
 Alas! 
 
i84 'ULift Cragttrg of dTau^tuiS, 
 
 Lizzy. 
 
 There she is rightly served at last : 
 
 How long she hung about the youth, times past ! 
 
 There was a gallivanting, 
 
 Squiring to thorp and dancing. 
 
 Must everywhere the first one be, 
 
 Given cates and wine for courtesy. 
 
 Thought much was due to her beauty ; 
 
 And yet so base, no shame she thought 
 
 To take the gifts he to her brought. 
 
 'Twas but a smacking kiss and clip, 
 
 Then is the floweret, too, let slip. 
 
 Margaret. 
 Alas, poor thing ! 
 
 Lizzy. 
 
 Dost thou e'en pity her? 
 When you and I at spinning were 
 O' nights, when mother fended us the door. 
 Stood she with her dear paramour 
 At the porch settle, and passage dark ; 
 No hour so long that they it mark. 
 Now she may e'en eat humble pie, 
 In sinner's shift her penance try 
 
 Margaret. 
 But he, no doubt, will marry her ? 
 
 Lizzy. 
 He'd be a fool ! A yonker spry 
 
Wtft Cragctr» of dFauiStuji. 185 
 
 Has other victories in his eye ; 
 Besides, he's gone. 
 
 Margaret. 
 That is not nice ! 
 
 Lizzy. 
 
 E'en gets she him,, she'll pay the price : 
 The boys shall tear -her garland off; 
 Her threshold we will strew with chaff. 
 
 Margaret (going homewards). 
 
 How could I once so boldly chide 
 
 When mischance did a girl betide 1 
 
 For other's sin I could not find 
 
 Words to suffice my tongue unkind. 
 
 How black it seemed ! And black howe'er, 
 
 Blackened to sate me was it ne'er. 
 
 I blessed rays elf, my head held high, 
 
 Now e'en the sinner's self am I ! 
 
 And yet all, that me to it led 
 
 So dainty was 1 so enchanted ! 
 
(A figure of the Mater Dolorosa in a niche, with a vase of 
 flowers before it.) 
 
 Margaret 
 (^Puts fresh flowers in the. vase.) 
 Ah, look down, 
 Thou sorrowing One, 
 Thy gentle face to me incline ! 
 
 That sword in heart, 
 
 With myriad smart, 
 
 The death see'st of thy Son Divine ! 
 
 To Him on high 
 
 Thou breath'st a sigh 
 
 Heavenwards, for grief that's His as thine ! 
 
 Who may feel 
 
 How doth steal 
 
 My agony, e'en to the bone ! 
 
 How my poor heart with terror turns, 
 
 How it trembles, how it yearns, 
 
 Knowest but thou, but thou alone ! 
 
Cljc CiMSttJB of dFauStus. 187 
 
 Wheresoe'er, soe'er I go, 
 
 Must woe, must woe, must woe. 
 
 Within my bosom be ! 
 
 I scarcely am alone, 
 
 I weep, and weep, and moan. 
 
 My heart doth break in me ! 
 
 The flower-pots in my casement 
 With tears were dewed by me 
 As I, in early morning. 
 These flowerets plucked for thee. 
 
 And when the bright sun early 
 His beams in my room shed. 
 Wakening in misery. 
 He found me on my bed. 
 
 Help ! Let not shame and death be mine ! 
 
 Oh, look down. 
 
 Thou sorrowing One, 
 
 Thy gentle face to me incline ! 
 
A Street before Margaret's door. 
 
 Valentine {a soldier, Margaret's brother). 
 
 Whene'er I joined a drinking bout, 
 
 Where divers vaunt their doings stout, 
 
 And my companions loudly boast 
 
 The " Pink of maidens " for their toast, 
 
 With brimming glass their praise o'erwhelm, 
 
 The flood with anchored elbows stem, 
 
 Calm sat I in my place, assured. 
 
 And all their gasconading heard, 
 
 Stroke my moustache, and smiling say 
 
 (Reaching the bumper to my hand) : 
 
 " Each one is goodly in her way, 
 
 But is there one, in all the land. 
 
 With my dear Margery can compare ? 
 
 My sister, — a candle hold to her ? ' 
 
 " None, none ! " Clink, clink ! 'tis past, and some 
 
 Do cry aloud, " He speaketh sooth ! 
 
 The phoenix of her sex, in truth ! " 
 
 And all the braggarts sit there dumb. 
 
Cf)e CragrtJn of dFaustttS. 1 8t) 
 
 But now ! — I'd tear my hair for spite, 
 
 Or run upon a wall outright ! 
 
 Shall every scurvy villain learn- 
 
 With gibes and jeers on me to turn ? 
 
 Shall I, like a rascal debtor, sit 
 
 At every chance-spoke word to sweat ? 
 
 And could I e'en chastise them all, 
 
 I could not say they lied, withal. 
 
 Who comes ? Who sneaks across the place ? 
 
 An I mistake not, they're a brace. 
 
 I'll have him now, if he it is ; 
 
 He shall not go alive from this ! 
 
 Faustus. Mephistophiles. 
 
 Faustus. 
 As from the window of yon sacristy out 
 The eternal lamp throws now its fitful ray, 
 Then paling, sideways dies away, 
 And darkness closes round about ; 
 So in my breast is night like that. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 And I feel like the slender cat 
 
 That up the fire-ladder first crawls. 
 
 Then quietly runs along the walls. 
 
 My mood, withal, 's pure virtuousness. 
 
 Of partly thievish sort, and partly wantonness : 
 
 Already thrills me through each vein 
 
 The thought of Walpurgis' delight. 
 
I9P C]^e Cragctrg of dTausitus!. 
 
 After to-morrow it comes again ; 
 
 'Tis worth one's while to wake that night ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Meanwhile is not that glimmering I see, 
 The treasure rising behind thee ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 I' faith, the pleasure have shalt thou 
 To lift the vessel, soon enow. 
 'Twas but just now I took a squint — 
 There're splendid Lion-dollars in't. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 No jewellery? Not e'en a ring 
 My dearest sweetheart to bedeck ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 I saw among them some such thing : 
 Some sort o' pearl chain for the neck. 
 
 ' Faustus. 
 Nay, that is right, I cannot bear 
 To go without some gift to her. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 I trust it will not you annoy 
 
 A something gratis to enjoy. 
 
 Now that the heavens do glow with their star throng, 
 
 A masterpiece shalt hear from me : 
 
 I'll sing to her a moral song, 
 
 To fool her with more certainty. 
 
Ci)e CragcBB of jTatiStuS. 191 
 
 {Sings to a guitar.) 
 What comest thou for, 
 Sweet Kate, before 
 Thy lover's door 
 All at the dawn of day ? 
 Nay, let it be ! 
 A maid though he 
 May welcome thee, 
 A maid thou'It not away ! 
 
 Nay, nay, take heed ! 
 Once done the deed, 
 Good night ! I rede, 
 Alas, alas, poor thing ! 
 Dost for self care ? 
 Of thieves beware ! 
 Love deeds do ne'er 
 Without thou hast the ring ! 
 
 Valentine {comes forward). 
 
 Whom wouldst thou lure here ? Sacrament ! 
 Thou damned rat-catching piper thou ! 
 To the devil first with thy instrument. 
 To the devil, too, with the piper now ! 
 
 Mephistophiles . 
 The gittern is in pieces, — for nothing more 'tis fit ! 
 
 Valentine. 
 Eftsoon thy two skulls shall be split ! 
 
192 Ci^e Ctrage5J» of dTausitttij. 
 
 Mephistophiles {to Faustus). 
 
 Sir doctor, do not blench, but stick 
 Close to my side, I'll lead thee, hurry ! 
 Qut with thy toasting-iron, quick ! 
 Do but push home, and I will parry. 
 
 Then parry that ! 
 
 Valentine. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 And wherefore not ? 
 
 Valentine. 
 
 And that ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Of course ! 
 
 Valentine. 
 
 The devil fights, I wot ! 
 What meaneth this ? My hand's already lamed 
 
 Mephistophiles {to Faustus). 
 Thrust home ! 
 
 Valentine. 
 Ah me! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 The booby now is tamed ! 
 But haste away ! We must at once now fly ! 
 
C^E CvastUj) of dTaudtus. 193 
 
 A cry of murder they already raise : 
 I'd settle the police, I know their ways ; 
 But the blood-ban I ill can satisfy. 
 
 Martha (at her windmv). 
 Out, out, there, out ! 
 
 Margaret {at ker window.) 
 Oh ! bring a light ! 
 
 Martha {as above). 
 They brawl and scuffle, yell and fight ! 
 
 Citizens. 
 One lies already dead ! 
 
 Martha {coming out). 
 Where are the murderers, are they fled? 
 
 Margaret {coming out). 
 
 Who lies here ? 
 
 Citizens. 
 
 Thy mother's son. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Almighty God ! Ah, woe ! 
 
 Valentine. 
 
 I die ; it is a quick-told tale ; 
 And quicker done 'twill be. 
 
194 Cfte CrageMg of ifaustus. 
 
 Why do ye cry there, wives, and wail ? 
 Come here,, and list to me. 
 
 {All approach ) 
 Thou art but young, my Margaret, 
 Hast scarce enough experience yet. 
 Dost not thy trade aright. 
 In confidence I'd this impart : 
 Since thou in fact a strumpet art. 
 Go, be a strumpet quite ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 Brother ! Good God ! And this to me ? 
 
 Valentine. 
 
 Mix God not with thy pleasantry. 
 All that is done, is done, alas ! 
 And what shall come, will come to piss. 
 With one beganst thou secretly, 
 SoOn many others will come to thee ; 
 And when a dozen have thee known, 
 Thou'lt common be to all the town. 
 
 When first that infamy is born, 
 'Tis from the world kept out of sight 
 Though introduced, the veil of night 
 O'er head and ears is drawn. 
 Yea, they would gladly stifle her ! 
 But doth she wax and lusty grow, 
 Then naked in the day she'll go : 
 Yet is she not a whit more fair 
 
The uglier vice her looks betray, 
 The more she courts the light of day. 
 
 In sooth, the time I do foresee 
 
 When every honest burger free, 
 
 As from a tainted corpse's stink, 
 
 From thee, thou trull, away shall shrink. 
 
 The heart within thee shall forswear 
 
 Its duty, when thy eyes they search ; 
 
 No more a golden chain shalt thou wear, 
 
 No more by the altar stand in church. 
 
 No more in comely ruff of lace. 
 
 At ease with all, the dance shalt grace ! 
 
 In a foul murky corner bide, 
 
 'Mongst beggars and 'mongst cripples hide ; 
 
 And e'en though God may pardon thee. 
 
 On earth accursed shalt thou be ! 
 
 Martha. 
 
 Commend thy soul to God's grace, do ! 
 Wouldst weight thyself with slander too ? 
 
 Valentine. 
 
 Could I get at thy carcase lean, 
 Thou foul and vicious pimping quean, 
 I then, indeed, could hope to win 
 Abundant grace for all my sin ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Brother ! Oh, 'tis agony ! 
 
 2 
 
196 Wt)s CrageUw of dFauiStud. 
 
 Valentine. 
 
 I tell thee, let thy weeping be. 
 When thou thy honour didst forswear, 
 The deepest wound I gat me there. 
 Now, through the calm sleep of the grave, 
 I go to God a soldier brave ! 
 
 (Dies.) 
 
{Service. Organ and Choir.) 
 
 Margaret, and much people. Evil Spirit behind 
 Margaret. 
 
 Evil Spirit. 
 
 How otherwise, Margaret, was't with thee 
 
 As here, still innocent, 
 
 Thou to the altar earnest ; 
 
 And from thy booklet, thumbed and worn. 
 
 Lisped prayers ! 
 
 The half in childish play, 
 
 Yet godliness in thy heart ! 
 
 Margaret ! 
 
 What thoughts are thine ? 
 
 And in thy heart 
 
 What guiltiness ? 
 
 Dost thou pray for thy mother's soul, who did 
 
 Sleep over unto long, long torture by thy deed ? 
 
 What blood is crying at thy door ? 
 
 And there beneath thy heart 
 
 Stirs not, and quickens not, e'en now, 
 
iqS €\ft CragtlrB of dTaustus. 
 
 What troubles thee and it 
 With presence ominous ? 
 
 Margaret. 
 Woe ! woe ! 
 
 Would I could rid me of these thoughts 
 That through and about me come and go 
 Despite myself ! 
 
 Choir 
 Dies iras, dies ilia 
 
 Solvet saeclum in favilla. 
 
 (Organ c/wrds.) 
 Evil Spirit. 
 Thou art desperate ! 
 I'he trump doth sound ! 
 The graves do heave ! 
 And thy heart 
 Again starts up, 
 From ashen rest 
 To fiery pain 
 Renewed ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 Would I were hence ! 
 Meseemeth that the organ doth 
 Stop up my breath, 
 The chant dissolve 
 My inmost heart ! 
 
 Choir. 
 
 Judex ergo cum sedebit, 
 
 Quidquid latet apparebit, 
 
 Nil inultum remanebit. 
 
Cljc CrageBB of dFaustuS. 199 
 
 Margaret. 
 All grows so close ! 
 The pillar'd walls 
 Do pen me in ! 
 The vaulted roof 
 Doth crush me — Air ! 
 
 Evil Spirit. 
 
 Hide thee ? Sin and shame 
 Will not lie hid. 
 Air? Light? 
 Woe unto thee ! 
 
 Choir. 
 
 Quid sum miser tunc dicturus ? 
 
 Quem patronum rogaturus, 
 
 Cum vix Justus sit securus ? 
 
 Evil Spirit. 
 
 The blessed ones 
 
 Avert their looks from thee ; 
 
 The pure do shrink 
 
 Their hands to thee to reach. 
 
 Woe! 
 
 Choir. 
 Quid sum miser tunc dicturus ? 
 
 Marg\ret. 
 Neighbour, your flasket ! — 
 
aeaalpurgisi Bi^U 
 
 District of Schirke and Elend in the Hartz Mountains. 
 
 Faustus. Mephistophiles. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Desir'st thou not to have a broom-stick, eh ? 
 The roughest of old bucks fain have would I. 
 We're still far from our goal along this way. 
 
 Faustus. 
 So long as I still fresh upon my legs can stay, 
 This crab-stick doth me satisfy. 
 What should one shorten the way for? 
 To wander through the labyrinthine vale, 
 And then these mighty rocks to scale, 
 From which the bubbling spring doth ever flow — 
 That is the pleasure that such paths can show. 
 Spring doth the birch-trees stimulate, 
 And e'en the pines its touch have caught : 
 Why should it not our limbs too animate ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 I' sooth, of that I feel not aught. 
 With me all's wintry within here ; 
 Upon my path I would have frost and snow. 
 
Wi)e CragttJn ot dTauiStuji. 201 
 
 How sadly doth the uncompleted sphere 
 Of the red Moon rise with belated glow. 
 And light so badly, that at each step, withal. 
 One runs upon a rock, or 'gainst a tree. 
 Let me a Jack o' Lantern call : 
 I see one there, a-burning lustily. 
 Hey there, my friend, come hither to us, pray ; 
 Why wouldst thou bootless flare away ? 
 Be thou so good the way up there to show. 
 
 Jack o' Lantern. 
 
 I trust I may, for reverence of you. 
 My giddy character subdue : 
 We're wont but zigzag usually to go. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Ho, ho ! So thou wouldst mankind imitate ? 
 Then in the Devil's name go straight. 
 Or I'll blow out thy flickering life withal ! 
 
 Jack o' Lantern. 
 I see, i' sooth, that here you're lord of all. 
 And to your need I'll gladly shape me ; 
 Mark, nathless, that the mount is magic-mad to-night. 
 And if a Jack o' Lantern must your pathway light, 
 You must not too exacting be. 
 
 Faustus, Mephistophiles, ami Jack o' Lantern. 
 
 (In fart-song.) 
 
 In the land of dream and spell 
 It doth seem we entered be. 
 
[)e Cvagjlrn of dTauStus. 
 
 Win thee credit, lead us well, 
 
 That we get on speedily 
 
 To the wide and desert spaces. 
 
 See, how quickly by us races 
 Tree on tree, in serried line, 
 And the stony crags incline. 
 And the long-nosed rocks too, lo ! 
 How they snort, and how they blow ! 
 
 Brook and brooklet hurried flow 
 O'er the stones and grass along. 
 Hear I murmuring ? Hear I song ? 
 Hear I sweet love-plaining lays. 
 Voices of those heavenly days 
 That to hope and love did call ? 
 And Echo, like to the refrain 
 Of olden times, doth sound again. 
 
 There sounds near, " Too-whit," " Too-whoo,'' 
 
 Owl, and Peewit, and Jay too. 
 
 Have they stayed awake then all ? 
 
 Salamanders, through the bushes, 
 
 Are those ? Long-legged, with fat paunches ; 
 
 And the roots, like any snake. 
 
 Wind from rock and sandy soil. 
 
 Spreading their prodigious coil 
 
 Us to frighten, us to take ! 
 
 From rough knots, with life endued, 
 
 Polyp tentacles protrude 
 
 Towards the wanderer. Mice also. 
 
Cije CrageUi) of jTauStus. 203 
 
 Myriad hued, in flocks do go 
 Through the moss and heather lea. 
 And the fire-flies there do pass 
 In a close compacted mass 
 For bewildering company. 
 
 Nay, but tell me, are we waiting ? 
 Or are we still on migrating ? 
 All things round us seem gyrating : 
 Rocks and trees grimaces make, 
 And the Jack o' Lanterns take 
 To them numbers, — are dilating ! 
 
 Mephistophiles . 
 
 By my lappet hold thee tight. 
 Here's a sort of central height 
 Where one may see and marvel how 
 Mammon in the mount doth glow. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 How strangely glimmereth through the ground 
 A wan light, dawn-like, roseate. 
 That e'en the crevices profound 
 Of the abyss doth permeate. 
 Here steam doth rise, there vapours spread, 
 Flames from a veil of mist shoot out, 
 Now steal forth in a slender thread. 
 Now in a mighty fountain spout ! 
 Here, for a long way runs entwined 
 Along the vale, in many a vein ; 
 
204 Ci^e CragjtJD of JFauiitus. 
 
 Here, in a narrow nook confined, 
 
 It all at once unites again. 
 
 There, near us, sparks are raining down, 
 
 Like outpoured golden sand ; and lo ! 
 
 Behold there ! how from base to crown 
 
 The mountain walls begin to glow ! 
 
 Mephistophiles . 
 
 Doth not Lord Mammon grandly light 
 
 His palace for the festival ? 
 
 Thou art lucky in the espial. 
 
 The roystering guests I now perceive in sight. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 How through the air the storm doth sweep. 
 And with what buffets on my back doth smite ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Upon the rock's old ribs must thou hang tight, 
 
 Or it will hurl thee down into the cavernous deep. 
 
 Mist makes the night more black ! 
 
 Hark, how the woods do crack ! 
 
 The fearful owls fly out ! 
 
 Hear how the pillars stout 
 
 Of the ever-green palaces crash ! 
 
 How the branches creak and smash ! 
 
 The stems make mighty moan ! 
 
 The roots do gape and groan ! 
 
 In fell confusion all 
 
Ci)« CragtUj) of dFaitsituS. 205 
 
 Entangled crash and fall ! 
 And through the wrack's crevices 
 The rough blast howls and hisses ! 
 Hearest thou voices there on high, 
 In the distance, and now nigh ? 
 Yea, the mountain all along 
 Streams with frantic magic song. 
 
 Chorus of Witches. 
 
 The witches to the Brocken draw, 
 
 Green is corn, and yellow's straw ; 
 
 There the throng do congregate. 
 
 Sir Urian sits on high in state. 
 
 So o'er stock and stone they hie, 
 
 The witch doth growl, and goat doth fly. 
 
 Voice. 
 
 Old Baubo all alone doth ride 
 Upon an ancient sow astride. 
 
 Chorus. 
 Honor where 'tis due then pay ! 
 On, Dame Baubo, lead the way ! 
 A fair swine with the mother on't, lo ! 
 All the witches after go. 
 
 Voice. 
 
 What way earnest thou ? 
 
2o6 W.fft Craset»i> of dTauStus. 
 
 Voice. 
 
 By the Alcestone, I ; 
 There in the osvl's nest I did pry : 
 She made such eyes ! 
 
 Voice. 
 
 To hell with thee ! 
 Why ride so rapidly ? 
 
 Voice. 
 
 Me she grazed, heed 
 How the wounds bleed ! 
 
 Chorus of Witches. 
 The way is broad, the way is long, 
 What a wild and giddy throng ! 
 The pitchfork pricks, the besom scratches, 
 The child is stifled, mother stretches. 
 
 Warlocks {semi-chorus\ 
 
 Like a snail in'ts shell we creep, 
 Still ahead the women keep ; 
 For to the goal of the wicked 
 They start a thousand steps ahead. 
 
 Witches {semi-chorus). 
 , That's not quite the way we view it : 
 
Cljj Cragetln of jTauStui. 207 
 
 She takes a thousand steps to do it ; 
 But let her hasten as she can, 
 In a bound 'tis done by man ! 
 
 Voice (above). 
 Come'with us from the rocky sea. 
 
 Voices {below.) 
 
 Gladly would we rise with ye : 
 We wash and white are, all in all, 
 Yet ever fruitless 'tis withal ! 
 
 Both Choruses. 
 
 The wind is stilled, the stars are fled. 
 The sad moon gladly hides her head ; 
 As they rush on, the magic choir 
 Scatter myriad sparks of fire. 
 
 Voice {below). 
 Halt, halt ! 
 
 Voice {above). 
 Who calls from the rocky vault ? 
 
 Voice {below). 
 
 Oh, take me with you, take me too ! 
 For some three hundred years I've climbed. 
 But ne'er the summit can attain ; 
 Be with my compeers would I fain ! 
 
2o8 C]&f Crastlri? of jFausittis. 
 
 Both Choruses. 
 
 A broom will carry, stick will carry. 
 Pitchfork carry, goat will carry. 
 He who cannot rise to-night 
 Is for aye an undone wight ! 
 
 Demi-witch [below). 
 
 A long time I've been hobbling on, 
 How is't the rest so far have gone ? 
 At home, i' sooth, I have no peace, 
 Nor here, it seemeth shall have ease. 
 
 Chorus of Witches.) 
 
 An unguent doth the witches nerve, 
 A ragged clout for sail will serve, 
 Any trough for skiff will do ; 
 He ne'er flies, who to-night ne'er flew ! 
 
 Both Choruses. 
 
 And when we the summit round, 
 Then sweep down upon the ground. 
 Let the heath all covered be 
 With your swarm of witchery. 
 
 {They descend.') 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 What pressing, pushing, rustling, clattering, 
 Whizzing, whirling, jostling, chattering! 
 
Cije Ci-ag;ttf» of dTausftuS. 209 
 
 Flashes, sparks, and stinks do sere ! 
 
 A very witches' atmosphere ! 
 
 Stick close to me, or straight we're parted here. 
 
 Where art thou ? 
 
 Faustus {from a distance). 
 Here. 
 
 Mephistophilfs. 
 
 What, torn out there away ? 
 The master I shall have to play. 
 Make way, sweet rabble, old Nick comes, room for him 
 
 make ! 
 Here, Doctor, cling to me ; now, do but one leap take, 
 Out of the crowd now let us flee, 
 E'en for my likes 'tis too crazy. 
 There is a light shines yonder with a gleam full rare ; 
 Something to yon copse draweth me : 
 Come, come, and we will slip in there. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Spirit of contradiction, on, thou mayst me lead ! 
 Thou seemest, forsooth, to manage wisely so ! 
 Unto the Brocken on Walpurgis night we go 
 But to seclude ourselves when we get there, indeed ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Look where those motley flames be, do ! 
 There congregate a merry crew. 
 One's not alone, in small degree. 
 
210 €^t CrageUo ol dTauStuS. 
 
 Fausttts. 
 
 Yet up above I'd rather be. 
 
 I see a glow and smoke whirl now, 
 
 They all stream where the Fiend doth bide, 
 
 Sure many a riddle's there untied. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 And many a riddle knotted, trow. 
 
 But let the great world go and riot, 
 
 We will here remain in quiet. 
 
 It hath been common, long, I take, 
 
 That in the great world men do small worlds make. 
 
 I see young witchlings stark and naked there, 
 
 And old, that wisely covered be ; 
 
 For my sake treat them courteously : 
 
 The trouble's small, the sport is rare. 
 
 Somewhat of instruments I hear begun, 
 
 A damnbd din, one must accustom one. 
 
 Come on, come on, there's nothing else will do, 
 
 I'll go to them, and take thee with me too. 
 
 And thus, anew, thy thanks I'll earn. 
 
 What sayest thou, 'tis no narrow space, my friend. 
 
 Look but out there, thou scarce canst see the end, 
 
 A hundred fires in a row do burn. 
 
 They talk, cook, drink, make love, and dance away 
 
 Where is there, tell me, aught that's better, pray ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Wilt thou, when thou dost introduce me there. 
 Appear thyself as Devil or Sorcerer ? 
 
Ci)t CragcKij o£ dfausituS. 211 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 I' Eooth, I'm mostly wont incognito to go, 
 But yet on gala days one doth one's orders show. 
 No garter have I to exalt me, 
 Nathless, the Hoof is here a dignity. 
 Dost thou that snail see there, coming with creeping 
 
 pace? 
 E'en now it smelt in me somewhat 
 With its soft horn-adorned face ; 
 Should I wish to deny me, I could not. 
 From fire to fire we'll wend our way ; come now ! 
 I'll be the go-between, the wooer thou. 
 
 {To a group sitting round some expiring embers.) 
 
 Ye ancient Sirs, what do ye here without ? 
 
 I would think better of ye were ye midst the rout 
 
 Of riot and youthful revelry ; 
 
 Lonely enough are ye at home, surely. 
 
 A General. 
 
 Who would in nations put their trust ! 
 Yea, let one serve them even as one will. 
 With nations, as with women, must 
 Youth have the preference uniformly still ! 
 
 A Minister. 
 
 Too far from what should be, men now pro- 
 ceed ! 
 
 p 2 
 
Ci)t tJCragetlo of jTauStug. 
 
 The praises of past times I sing ; 
 In sooth, when we were everything, 
 That was the golden age indeed ! 
 
 An Upstart. 
 
 Truly no simpletons were we ! 
 
 Oft what we should not, we'd essay j 
 
 But nowadays all topsy-turvy be 
 
 Just when awhile we'd have them unchanged stay. 
 
 An Author. 
 
 Who is there now that any work will read 
 Of tolerable sagacity ? 
 
 And what concerns the darling youth indeed. 
 There never was such pert procacity ! 
 
 Mephistophiles {who suddenly appears very old). 
 
 I feel that folk are ripe for Doomsday, all, 
 
 Since I for the last time up the Witch-Mountain go; 
 
 And, since thick runs my casklet small, 
 
 The world's drained to the lees also ! 
 
 Huckster Witch. 
 
 My Masters, do not by me pass ! 
 Miss not your opportunity ! 
 Look at my wares here curiously. 
 Sure, goods I have of every class ! 
 Yet in this booth of mine there's nought 
 The like whereof on earth you'll find, 
 
€ijt CvagcUn of dTaustusi. 213 
 
 That hath not some brave mischief wrought 
 
 Once i' the world among mankind ! 
 
 No dagger's here, but what once blood did bring ; 
 
 No cup but what hath poured into a healthy life 
 
 Poisonj fiery, corroding; 
 
 No ornament that hath not some sweet wife 
 
 Seduced ; no sword but what hath cut some trust, 
 
 Or hath not from behind its foeman foully thrust ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Good Aunt, the times you scarce do realize ; 
 What's done is past, what's past is done. 
 Lay in a stock of noveltie?, 
 We're caught by novelties alone. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Oh, I shall lose my head ! I' sooth, 
 Is this a fair in very truth ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 The whole whirl upwards now do throng ; 
 Thou thinkest thou pushest, and art pushed along. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Who's that one there ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Regard her curiously. 
 'Tis Lilith. 
 
2 1 4 Ci)t Cragct(^ of .f austus. 
 
 Faustus, 
 Who? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Adam's first wife was she. 
 Against lier beauteous hair be on thy guard ; 
 This adornment, in which she shines unique, 
 Should she therewith ensnare a young man weak. 
 Not lightly will she loose him from her ward. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Two're sitting there, a young and old, to wit. 
 E'en now right well they footed it. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 There'll be no rest to-night. Anew 
 They're starting a fresh dance. Come on, and we'll fall 
 to! 
 
 Faustus (dancing with tJie younger). 
 A lovely dream once came to me, 
 Wherein I saw an apple-tree ; 
 Upon it gleamed fair apples twain, 
 They drew me — I to climb was fain. 
 
 The Beauty. 
 For apples ye've a passion rare. 
 E'er since the times of Eden were; 
 
€i)t CragctJB of dTausituS. 2 1 5 
 
 Truly, it doth rejoice me much 
 My garden also beareth such. 
 
 Mephistophiles (pith the crone). 
 
 A filthy dream once came to me, 
 Wherein I saw a rifted tree ; 
 A fruit it bore of loathly shell. 
 And yet, withal, it pleased me well. 
 
 The Crone. 
 
 To the cleft-hoofed knight do I 
 Make my lowliest courtesy ; 
 He may prepare for goodly cheer 
 That doth no outward semblance fear. 
 
 Proctophantasmist.' 
 
 Accursed folk ! what is it then ye dare ! 
 Did one not to ye long since show 
 That Spirits on substantial feet ne'er go ? 
 Nathless ye dance as mortal men ye were ! 
 
 The Beauty {dancing). 
 What doth then he here at our dance ? 
 
 Faustus {dancing). 
 
 On him you everywhere will chance. 
 While others dance, he'll criticize, 
 
 1 Nicholai, a critic. See Hayvrard, pp. 205 6. 
 
2 16 C|)« CrageU^ of dTaustuS. 
 
 And if he cannot theorize 
 
 On any step, lie'U hold that it is void. 
 
 But most of all when we advance is he annoyed : 
 
 If in a circle turn about ye would, 
 
 As ever in his antique mill doth he, 
 
 At least he'd hold (especially 
 
 If ye should compliment him on it) it was good. 
 
 Proctophantasmist. 
 Are ye still there ? Nay, this is marvellous ! 
 Begone ! The world enlightened is by us. 
 Ye Devil's pack ! of rules ye will not hear ! 
 We are so wise, yet haunted's Tegelmere ! 
 How long have I not worked to show 'tis erroneous, 
 And still 'tis not cleared up ! 'Tis marvellous ! 
 
 The Beauty. 
 Oh, cease thy plaguy importunities ! 
 
 Proctophantasmist. 
 
 Ye Spirits, to your face say I, 
 I'll not away with Spirit tyranny. 
 Since my spirit cannot tyrannize ! 
 
 (They dance on.) 
 
 I see to-day nought's to be done, 
 Howbeit, on my travels I will go, 
 And hope before the last step's taken, so 
 The Devil and Poets to bring to subjection. 
 
ISrijt Cragtifg of dFauStust. 2 1 7 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Now in a puddle will he sit straightway, 
 
 Thus for his solace is he wont to do, 
 
 And when that leeches do upon his buttocks prey. 
 
 He's purged from Spirits and of Spirit too.' 
 
 (To Faustus, who has left the dance.) 
 
 Why didst thou let that pretty damsel go, 
 That as she danced so sweetly sang ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Alas, amidst her song there sprang 
 
 Out of her mouth a little mouse, all red ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Well, well, one should not take that seriously ; 
 
 That 'twas not grey's enough for thee. 
 
 Who'd notice such a thing the while he flirted ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 Then saw I — 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 What? 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Mephisto, seest thou not 
 A pale and lovely child standing alone out there ? 
 
 • Nicholai was cured of visions of phantoms by bleeding. Hence 
 Procto (ripaiKTos) Fliantasmist. — Hayward, 
 
2i8 CI)? Cvagetfo of jTauStusi. 
 
 She drags but slowly from the spot, 
 It seemeth as her feet in trammels were. 
 I must confess, it seemeth me 
 To Margaret resembleth she. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Let be. It brings no good to any one, 
 'Tis but a magic form, and lifeless, an icon. 
 To meet it bringeth injury. 
 Its frozen glance man's blood doth petrify. 
 And he's almost turned into stone. 
 Surely Medusa's story's to thee known ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 In verity they are a corpse's eyen 
 No loving hand closed tenderly ; 
 That is the bosom Margaret pressed to mine. 
 That her sweet body^ oft embraced by me ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 That is all sorcery ! Oh, fool of easy faith ! 
 She comes to each one as his mistress' wraith. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 What rapture ! and what sufferance ! 
 
 I cannot turn me from that glance 1 
 
 How wondrous strange 'tis, that that beauteous throat 
 
 Should be adorned with one red thread. 
 
 No thicker than a knife-blade head ! 
 
€]&» CragetiD of jTauStttS. 219 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 'Tis so. I likewise do it note. 
 Her head beneath her arm, too, she can bear, 
 For Perseus cut it off for her. 
 Wouldst thou illusion follow still ? 
 Come, we'll ascend yon gentle hill. 
 'Tis lively as the Park, i' sooth ! 
 And if no spells my fancy fill, 
 I see a theatre, in truth. 
 What is't ? 
 
 Servibilis. 
 
 Begin it soon again they will, 
 This new piece, out of seven the last one, 
 To give that number 'tis the custom here ; 
 A Dilettante hath it done. 
 And Dilettanti in 't appear. 
 Pardon me if I vanish, sirs, I 
 As Dilettante, do the curtain raise. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 If on the Blocksberg ye I spy, 
 
 I find it well ; it is your proper place. 
 
OTalpurgisi ^igftt'S Bream, or #6tron 
 anti Citania'si (BolOm Metitims:. 
 
 Intermezzo. 
 
 Manager. 
 
 We, for once, can rest to-day. 
 Brave sons of Mieding ' ye ! 
 Old mountain and moist valley, they 
 Are all the scenery. 
 
 Herald. 
 
 That a wedding golden be 
 Fifty years must have passed o'er ; 
 But, if past's all enmity, 
 'Tis gold that likes me more ! 
 
 Oberon. 
 
 Are ye spirits here around ? 
 Come and show ye now ! 
 King and Queen again are bound 
 By their renewed vow. 
 
 ' Scene-painter to the Weimar Theatre. — Hayward. 
 
Wf)e CragcKn of dfaustus. 
 
 Puck. 
 
 Here cometh Puck, and turns about 
 And moves his feet in dance; 
 And him behind, a merry rout, 
 A hundred more advance ! 
 
 Ariel. 
 
 Ariel now awakes the song 
 In heavenly notes and true, 
 Many a fright is lured along. 
 Yet many a beauty too. 
 
 Oberon. 
 
 Spouses that would have harmony, 
 Learn from us both the art : 
 If any pair would loving be. 
 One only need them part ! 
 
 TiTANIA. 
 
 Should husband sulk, wife whimsies dare. 
 Seize them both deftly, marry ! 
 Bear me to the Equator her, 
 Him to the North Pole carry ! 
 
 The Whole Orchestra {fortissimo). 
 Trump of fly, and drone of midge. 
 With others of their kind. 
 Grig in grass, and frog in hedge, 
 These do our music find. 
 
Cl^t CragetfB of dTauStuS. 
 
 Solo. 
 
 See, here come the bagpipes too, 
 A blown soap-bubble 'tis ! 
 Hear the squeaky grunting through 
 That stumpy nose of his ! 
 
 Spirit gradually forming. 
 Spider's foot, and toad's belly, 
 With wings of Hobgoblin ; 
 True 'tis that no such creature be, 
 Yet 'twill a verslet spin ! 
 
 A Little Couple. 
 
 Little steps and bounds on high, 
 Through honey-dew and vapour, 
 Ye trip about sufficiently. 
 But in the air can't caper. 
 
 Inquisitive Traveller. 
 
 Is this a masquing mockery odd ? 
 Do my eyes tell me right ? 
 Is't Oberon, the beauteous god. 
 To-day doth meet my sight ? 
 
 An Orthodox Person. 
 
 No claws, and eke no tail one sees, 
 Yet there no doubt can be 
 That, like the gods that were in Greece, 
 A devil too is he. 
 
€l)e CragtUB of dfatwituS. 223 
 
 A Northern Artist. 
 
 The things that I at present make 
 Are sketchy, to be sure ; 
 Yet I prepare betimes to take 
 T he grand Italian tour. 
 
 Purist. 
 
 My ill luck brings me here, alas ! 
 How they make revelry ! 
 And 'mongst the crowd of witches pass 
 But two that powdered be. 
 
 Young Witch. 
 
 Your powder, like your petticoat. 
 Is for wives old and grey ; 
 So I sit naked on my goat. 
 And my firm flesh display. 
 
 Matron. 
 
 We have too much good-breeding, far, 
 Than here to brawl with you ; 
 Though young ajid tender now you are, 
 I hope you'll wither too ! 
 
 Bandmaster. 
 
 Trump of fly, and drone of midge. 
 Don't o'er the nude ones climb ! 
 Grig in grass, and frog in hedge, 
 Do try to keep in time ! 
 
224 Ci&f Ct-agelfn of dFauStuS. 
 
 Weathercock {turned one way). 
 
 In sooth, the best of company, 
 A lot of brides, they seem ! 
 And bachelors, take them singly, 
 Most promising I deem ! 
 
 Weathercock (turned the other way) . 
 An if to swallow them, the ground 
 Will not yawn wide, I say, 
 Why then I'll with an agile bound 
 Leap into hell straightway ! 
 
 Xenia.' 
 
 We as insects all are here 
 With shears sharp and small, 
 That we to Satan, our father, 
 May homage pay withal. 
 
 Hennings.'' 
 
 See how in crowded swarm they press. 
 Their naive game pursue ; 
 And in the end, they'll say, doubtless, 
 That they have good hearts too. 
 
 Musaget. 
 I'd like in this witch swarm, I vow. 
 Myself indeed to lose ; 
 
 1 Satirical verses by Gothe and Schiller. — Hayward. 
 
 2 Editors of "The Genius of the Times," and "Musaget," 
 literary journals. — Ibid, 
 
Clje Cvagtlti) of dfaustuiS. 225 
 
 For truly I'd know better how 
 To lead them than the muse. 
 
 A Former Genius of the Times. 
 
 With the right sort, one's still somewhat ; 
 Come, hold on to me thus ; 
 The Blocksberg's a broad summit got. 
 Like the German Parnassus. 
 
 Curious Traveller. 
 
 Tell me who's that formal man 
 Walking so dignifiedly ? 
 He sniffs about at what he can, 
 As if for Jesuits spied he ! 
 
 Crane. 
 I like to fish when clear it be. 
 And also when 'tis dim ; 
 Just so the pious man you see 
 'Mong devils mixing him. 
 
 Man of the World. 
 
 Yea, for the pious, believe me. 
 Everything's a vehicle ; 
 On the Blocksberg they have founded ye 
 Many a conventicle. 
 
 Dancers. 
 
 There comes a novel choir, in truth, 
 I hear far drums indeed ; 
 
 Q 
 
2 26 Cije Cragjlin of sSf-metrxS. 
 
 Nay, rest ye ! 'Tis the bitterns, sooth, 
 A-booming midst the reed. 
 
 Dancing Master. 
 
 How each abroad his legs doth fling, 
 Doth as he can his task ! 
 The fat ones hop, the crooked ones spring. 
 Nor what it looks like ask. 
 
 Jovial Soul. 
 
 The beggars hate each other sore, 
 And gladly would they smite thena ; 
 As Orpheus' lyre the beasts before. 
 The bagpipes here unite them. 
 
 Dogmatist. 
 
 Their cries shall never me mislead. 
 Nor doubt, nor criticist ; 
 The Devil a something is indeed, 
 Or how could devils exist ? 
 
 Idealist. 
 
 Within my senses, phantasy 
 Rules this time too despotic ; 
 In sooth, if everything I be, 
 This night I'm idiotic. 
 
 Realist. 
 
 This Being is right misery. 
 It worrieth me, I weet; 
 
CIj£ STragcUy of dfaustus. 227 
 
 Here, for the first time, I find I 
 Don't stand firm on my feet. 
 
 SUPERNATURALIST. 
 
 With right good pleasure I am there, 
 Enjoy me midst the crew ; 
 For from the devils I infer 
 There are good spirits too. 
 
 Sceptic. 
 
 They track the Ignis Fatuiis, 
 The treasure think they near ; 
 Diabolus rhymes with dubious, 
 I'm in the right place here. 
 
 Bandmaster. 
 
 Grig in grass, and frog in hedge, 
 Confounded Dilettanti ! 
 Trump of fly, and drone of midge, 
 You're rare musicians, a'n't ye ? 
 
 The Deft. 
 
 The throng yclept is Sansouci, 
 All lusty fellows. Lo, 
 Since on our feet no more't may be, 
 Upon our heads we go. 
 
 The Awkward. 
 
 Once we sponged many a morsel too, 
 But now ! God's will be done ! 
 Q 2 
 
228 Cijt CragttJg of dTauiStuS. 
 
 Our shoes, alas, we have danced through, 
 On naked soles we run. 
 
 Jack o' Lanterns. 
 
 From out the marshes we appear. 
 From which we erst have sprung ; 
 And straight in rows we're shining here 
 The gallants fine among. 
 
 Spent Shooting Star. 
 
 I shot down here from out the sky- 
 In fiery star-like guise, 
 And now across the grass I lie ! 
 Who will me help to rise ? 
 
 Bulky Ones. 
 
 Room, and room, and roundabout 
 The grass is trodden low ; 
 Spirits come, and spirits stout 
 And fat limbs have also. 
 
 Puck. 
 
 Tread not so heavily this way. 
 Like elephantine calf; 
 The stoutest one that's here to-day 
 Is Puck himself, by half. 
 
 Ariel. 
 
 Doth loving Nature endow thee 
 Or Spirit with wings endow, 
 
Ci)t EragfttB of d^austuS. 
 
 Upon my light steps follow me 
 Up to the rose-hill now. 
 
 Orchestra (pianissimo). 
 
 Wreaths of mist, and clouds that speed, 
 Light from above have caught ; 
 Breeze in bush, and wind in reed, 
 And all is turned to nought 
 
91 6Iocmp IBap on a leatft, 
 
 Faustus. Mephistophiles. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 In misery ' Despairing ! Long wandered piteously 
 over the face of the earth, and now in prison ! Incar- 
 cerated as a criminal to await horrible tortures; that 
 guileless, hapless creature ; brought to this, to this ! 
 Trait'rous unworthy Spirit, and this thou hast concealed 
 from me ! Stay there, stay ! Roll thy fiendish eyes 
 wrathfully in thy head ! Stay and harry me with thy 
 intolerable presence ! A prisoner ! In irremediable 
 wretchedness ! Abandoned to evil spirits and censorious 
 pitiless man ! And me thou lullest the while in savour- 
 less pastimes, hidest from me her growing trouble, and 
 leavest her helplessly to perish ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 She is not the first. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Hound ! Thou loathsome monster ! Transform him, 
 thou infinite Spirit ! Transform the serpent again into 
 its canine guise, as oft o' nights it pleased him to gambol 
 
€l)t CragttJj) of dTautitusJ. 231 
 
 about me, to roll about the feet of the harmless wanderer, 
 and fasten on the shoulders of him who had fallen. 
 Change him again into his darling shape, that he may 
 crawl before me on his belly through the sand, that I 
 may trample on him with my feet, the accursed one ! 
 Not the first ! Woe, woe ! 'Tis inconceivable by mortal 
 soul how more than one creature can have sunk into the 
 depths of misery — that the first was not a sacrifice for 
 all others in her writhing agony of death, under the eyes 
 of the All-forgiving One ! How doth the misery of this 
 one pierce my marrow and my life ; while thou art left 
 grinning at the doom of thousands ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 Now are we again at the boundary of pur wits, there 
 where your human being's sense-strings snap. Why dost 
 wish to make fellowship with us, when thou canst not 
 carry it through ? Wouldst fly, and yet art not proof 
 against dizziness ! Force we ourselves upon thee, or 
 thou on us ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Bare not thy ravening fangs 'fore me ; 'tis sickening ! 
 Great glorious Spirit, that once did deign to appear 
 to me, that knowest my heart and soul, why fetter me 
 to this infamous companion,! who feeds on mischief, 
 and revels in destruction ? 
 
 Mephistophiles . 
 Hast done ? 
 
232 CI)e CragetJD ordfatistus. 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Save her, or woe to thee ! The horriblest curse be on 
 thee for thousands of years ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 I cannot loosen the bonds of the avenger, nor draw 
 his bolts. Save her ! Who was it hurled her down tp 
 ruin ? I, or thou ? 
 
 (Faustus looks wildly round. ) 
 
 Wouldst clutch the thunder ? 'Tis well 'twas not 
 granted to ye miserable mortals ! Shatter innocent 
 opponents, that is your true tyrant's means of making 
 way in a hobble ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 Take me there, she shall be free ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 
 And the danger thou incurrest ? Know that blood- 
 guilt at thy hands still weighs upon the town. Avenging 
 spirits hover o'er the spots where murder has been done, 
 and lie in wait for the returning murderer. 
 
 Faustus. 
 This also from thee ! A world's murder and death 
 upon thee, monster ! Take me there, I say, and free 
 her! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 I will take thee. Hear, now, what I can do ! Am ^^ 
 
Ci)« Erageirn of dTausltuS. 233 
 
 I omnipotent in heaven and earth ? I will befog the 
 jailor's senses ; do thou gain possession of the keys, and 
 lead her out by mortal hand. I will watch, have ready 
 the magic horses, and will bear ye away. This I can 
 do. 
 
 Faustus 
 
 Up and away! 
 
Bi^t. a ®eat&. 
 
 Faustus and Mephistophiles rushing along on black 
 horses. 
 
 Faustus. 
 What weave they there at the Ravenstone ? 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 I know not what they stew and they do. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Hover up and down, incline, and bend. 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 A guild of witches 'tis. 
 
 Faustus. 
 They sprinkle, and they consecrate. 
 
 Mephistophiles, 
 Onward, onward ! 
 
Faustus, with a bunch of keys and a lamp, before a small 
 iron door. 
 
 Fear, long unwonted, o'er me falls. 
 
 All ills do haunt me men experience. 
 
 Here doth she dwell, behind these humid walls ; 
 
 A guiltless madness was her sole offence ! 
 
 Thou shudderest to her to go, 
 
 Thou fearest again to see her so, 
 
 Thy vacillation dallies with death. Hence ! 
 
 {Goes to unlock. Singing within.") 
 
 My mother, the drab, 
 
 Who slayen me hath ! 
 
 My father, the rogue, 
 
 Who eaten me hath ! 
 
 My sister, so wee, 
 
 A bone saved of me. 
 
 In a cool place to lie : 
 
 Then I became a wild-bird fair to see 
 
 Fly, fly away, fly ! 
 
 Faustus (unlocking the door) . 
 
 She doth not dream her love lists at the door : 
 Harks to the rattling chains and rustling straw ! 
 
 {Enters. 
 
236 Efy CragcKj? of dTauStuS. 
 
 Margaret (hiding on the bed). 
 Woe, woe, they come ! Death's bitterness ! 
 
 Faustus {softly). 
 Hist, hist, I come thee free to malce ! 
 
 Margaret (fuming away). 
 An thou art human, pity my distress ! 
 
 Faustus 
 
 Thy cries the warders from their sleep will wake ! 
 
 (Takes the chains to unlock them.) 
 
 Margaret (kneeling). 
 
 Who to thee, Headsman, such a power 
 Over me did give 
 
 To fetch me at this midnight hour ? 
 Oh, have compassion, let me live ! 
 Is not morn soon enough for me ? 
 
 (Rises.) 
 Yet still so young, so young I be ! 
 And must now die ? 
 Fair was I too, — 'twas my calamity. 
 My love was near, now he's afar ; 
 Torn is my wreath, the flowers all scattered are. 
 Lay not thy hands so rude upon me ! 
 Spare me, what have I ever done thee ? 
 Oh, let me not in vain implore ! 
 In all my days I ne'er saw thee before. 
 
Ci)e CragttJg of dTauStus. 237 
 
 Faustus. 
 Can I stand up 'gainst woe so sore ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 I am now wholly in thy might, 
 
 Let me once nurse my child again ! 
 
 I hugged it all the night long through, 
 
 They took it, — ^just to turn my brain ; 
 
 And now they say I have it murthered too ! 
 
 I never more shall gladness know ! 
 
 They sing ballads on me, cruel 'tis of the folk ! 
 
 An old wife's tale there's endeth so — 
 
 Who bade them turn't to mock ? 
 
 Faustus {throws himself down). 
 
 A lover at thy feet doth lie 
 To break thy bonds of misery ! 
 
 Margaret {throws herself beside him). 
 
 Oh, let us kneel before the Saints in prayer ! 
 
 See beneath the steps, down there, 
 
 The sill beneath, 
 
 Hell doth seeth 
 
 With sin ! 
 
 And hideous noise 
 
 And din ! 
 
 Faustus {aloud). 
 Margery, Margery ! 
 
238 C]f)e Crasettg ol dfauiStuS. 
 
 Margaret {listening). 
 
 That was the loved one's voiee ! 
 
 {She jumps up, and her chains fall ojff ). 
 
 Where is he ? I did hear him call ! 
 
 I'm free ! None shall me hold in thrall ! 
 
 To fall upon his neck I'll fly. 
 
 Upon his bosom lie ! 
 
 Margery he called ! upon the threshold stood, 
 
 And midst the howls and din of hellish brood, 
 
 Through raging devilish scoffs around, 
 
 I knew that sweet and loving sound ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 'Tis I ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Is't thou ? Oh, say it then once more ! 
 
 ( Clasping him. ) 
 
 'Tis he, 'tis he ! Where now's all torment sore ! 
 
 Where is the anguish of prison, the chain ? 
 
 'Tis thou, come to free me again ! 
 
 Oh, I am saved ! — 
 
 Again before me is the street 
 
 Where for the first time we did meet ! 
 
 That gladsome garden I do see 
 
 Where I and Martha waited thee ! 
 
 Faustus (trying to urge her forth). 
 Come, come away ! 
 
C]^? CvagfUo of dFauStiiS. 239 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Oh, stay ! 
 I love to tarry where thou tarriest ! 
 
 {Fondling him.) 
 
 Faustus. 
 Away ! 
 
 An dost not haste, 
 We shall pay dear, I wis. 
 
 Margaret. 
 What, hast thou forgot to kiss ? 
 My love and I, but now apart, 
 And kissing a forgotten art ! 
 Why do I fearsome grow in thy embrace ? 
 When erst, before thy words and eyen play 
 Meseemed enwrapped in heavenly grace ! 
 And thou didst kiss as if to take my breath away. 
 Kiss me, 
 Else I'll kiss thee I 
 
 {Embraces him.) 
 Ah me ! Thy lips are cold ! 
 Mute stay ! 
 Where did thy love 
 Remove? 
 Who stole't away ? 
 
 {Turns from him.) 
 
 Faustus. 
 Come, dear, take courage ! Follow me ! 
 
240 T^e Cragtlrg of jTausitus. 
 
 Thy love a thousandfold returned shall be ; 
 I do but ask thee follow where I lead. 
 
 Margaret {turning to him). 
 And is't then thou ? And is it thou indeed ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 'Tis I, come, come ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Thou solvest me of my chain, 
 And takest me to thy breast again ! 
 How is't thou dost not shrink away from me ? 
 Dost know, my friend, whom 'tis thou dost set free ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 Come, come, the night is nearly out ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 I brought my mother's death about ; 
 
 My bairn, too, 's drowned by me — 
 
 Was't not a gift to me and thee ? 
 
 Thee too. — Is't thou ? I doubt it is ? 
 
 Give me thy hand ! No vision's this ! 
 
 Thy dear, dear hand ! — Alas, but it is wet ! 
 
 Wipe it away ! — My mind is set 
 
 There's blood thereon ! 
 
 My God ! What hast thou done ! 
 
 Put up thy sword again, 
 
 I beseech thee ! 
 
Cijf CragtUu of JTausitusi. 24 1 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Let what is past, the past remain — 
 Thou killest me ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Nay, thou alive must stay ! 
 
 I will thee our graves portray : 
 
 See thou 'tis done 
 
 Anon. 
 
 The noblest place give to the mother 
 
 Beside her, close, lay my brother, 
 
 A bit to one side lay me, 
 
 Yet, let it not too far be ! 
 
 And the little one on my right place, 
 
 No one will else with me lie ! 
 
 Thee could I nestle me by, 
 
 What sweet and noble joy 'twould be 
 
 But that will never be mine again ! 
 
 Meseems I must myself to thee constrain. 
 
 As didst thou repel me, as 'twere, from thee — 
 
 And yet 'tis thou, so good and kind thy eye 
 
 Faustus. 
 Then come, since thou dost know 'tis I. 
 
 Margaret. 
 Out there ? 
 
 Faustus. 
 I' the open. 
 
242 Ci)t CraplfB of Jfaustus. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Is there the sepulchre ? 
 Doth dfeath lurk there ? Then come, 
 From here to the eternal resting-place ; 
 No step beyond I'll go — 
 Thou wouldst be gone. Oh, Harry, could I follow ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 Thou canst, but will it ; see, the door lies ope. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 I dare not go ; for me there is no hope ! 
 
 AVhat avails flight ? They'll dog me surely still ; 
 
 Begging is such bitterness. 
 
 Laden too with a guilty consciousness ! 
 
 A misery to wander round about, 
 
 And none the less they'll find me out ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 I will be with thee. ■ 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Haste thee ! Tear ! 
 
 Save thy poor child there ! 
 
 Onward, straight make for 
 
 The course of the burn. 
 
 There, the plank o'er. 
 
 Into the wood 
 
 To the left, where's the board 
 
C]^e CragttJj) al jTau^tuS. 243 
 
 I' the pool ! 
 Clutch it at once ! 
 'Twill rise for the nonce, 
 It struggles still ! 
 Save it ! Save it ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 
 Call up thy will ! 
 
 'Tis but a step, and thou art free. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Would we but had the mountain passed ! 
 
 There sits my mother upon a stone, 
 
 My hair doth stand on end ! 
 
 There sits my mother upon a stone. 
 
 Her head doth ever bend ; 
 
 She signs not, she beckons not, dulled is her brain ; 
 
 She's slept so long, she will not wake again ! 
 
 She slept that we might sport at ease : 
 
 Happy days, indeed, were these ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 No prayers do move thee — nought I say — 
 To bear thee hence I must essay. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Unhand me ! No ! I will not suffer force ! 
 Grip me not so murtherously ! 
 All else I did was done for love of thee, 
 R 2 
 
244 Ci^t Cragftrn of J^austus. 
 
 Faustus. 
 Day dawns ! My love, my love ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Day ? Yea, the day dawns ! The last day comes apace ! 
 
 It was my bridal meant to grace ! 
 
 Tell none with Margery thou'st already been. 
 
 My wreath ! Ah me ! 
 
 'Tis done ! regret is vain ! 
 
 Adieu ! We'll meet again : 
 
 But not at the dance will't be ! 
 
 The crowd doth press : no sound they make 
 
 The square, the lanes, 
 
 Scarce it contains ; 
 
 The bell doth toll, the wand doth break, 
 
 How they do bind and seize me ! 
 
 Now to the block am I conveyed, 
 
 All necks in sympathy 
 
 Quiver, as o'er mine the blade ! 
 
 Still lies the world as the grave ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 Ah, that I'd ne'er been born ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 Up ! or your chances are gone ! 
 Useless diffidencies, delays, discourses ! 
 Scared are my horses. 
 The dawn breaks o'er the skies. 
 
Ci)t CragetiB of dfaustus. 245 
 
 Margaret. 
 What is that from the ground doth rise ? 
 That ! That ! Endure him not ! 
 What would he in this holy spot ? 
 He seeks me ! 
 
 Faustus. 
 Nay, thou shalt live ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 God judge me ! To thee, Lord, myself I give ! 
 
 Mephistophiles (to Faustus). 
 Come, come, or I leave both her and thee. 
 
 Margaret. 
 Thine am I, Father ; rescue me ! 
 Ye Angels ! All ye heavenly horde. 
 Muster around, and be my ward ! 
 Henry ! I recoil from thee ! 
 
 Mephistophiles. 
 She's judged ! 
 
 A Voicp; {from above). 
 She is acquitted ! 
 
 Mephistophiles {to Faustus). 
 
 Hither to me ! 
 {Disappears with Faustus. 
 
 A Voice {from within, dying away). 
 Henry ! Henry ! 
 
LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED UV GILBERT AND KIVINGTON, LIMITED, 
 
 ST. JOHN'S HOUSE, CLERKKNWELL ROAD.