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 FAUST. 
 
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 Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924032171690 
 
■f6f=' fi\ 
 
 TRANSLATED BY TH]{(3D0RE MARTIN 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 
 PROF. A. VON KRELING. 
 
 FRED. BRUCKMANN 
 
 LONDON. 
 
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 UNIVERSITY 
 LIBRARYx/ 
 
 PRINTED BY FISCHER & WITTIG, LEIPZIG. 
 
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 DEDICATION. 
 
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</■' 
 
 E come, dim forms, as in youth's early day 
 
 Ye blessed these eyes, which now so lonely grieve! 
 
 Still, still, to hold ye fast shall I essay, 
 Still let my heart to that delusion cleave? 
 
 Ye throng me round ! Well ! lord it how ye may, 
 As from the mists ye rise, that round me weave ! 
 
 Ye waft a magic air, that shakes my breast 
 
 With youth's tumultuous, yet divine, unrest. 
 
 Visions ye bring with you of happy days. 
 
 And many a dear, dear, shade ascends to view ; 
 
 Like some faint haunting chime of ancient lays. 
 Come love, first love, and friendship back with you ; 
 
 The heart runs back o'er life's bewildered maze. 
 And pangs, long laid to sleep, awake anew, 
 
 And name the loved ones lost, — before their day 
 
 Swept, whilst life yet was beautiful, away. 
 
 A2 
 
Alas, alas ! These strains they cannot hear, 
 The souls to whom my earliest lays I sang ; 
 
 Gone is that loving band of friends so dear, 
 The echoes hushed, that once responsive rang : 
 
 My numbers fall upon the stranger's ear, 
 Whose very praise is to my heart a pang, 
 
 And all, who in my lays took pride of yore, 
 
 Are lost in other lands, or else no more. 
 
 And yearnuigs hll my soul, unwonted long, 
 To yonder still, sad, spirit-world to go ; 
 
 Now, like ^'Eolian harp, my faltering song 
 Rises and falls in fitful cadence low ; 
 
 A shudder thrills me, as old memories throng. 
 
 The strong heart melts, tears fast on tear-drops flow : 
 
 What still is mine seems far, far otf to be. 
 
 And what has vanished li\'es anew for me. 
 
^^^K^, l^fi>m&^^. 
 
 sna^ai 
 
 PRELUDE AT THE THEATRE. 
 
 
Managei!, Poet of the Theatre. Merkyjiax. 
 
 Manager. 
 
 Old friends and true, my proved allies 
 In times of trouble and of need, 
 Say, how you think our enterprise 
 Will here on German soil succeed. 
 My aim and chief delight would be 
 To please the crowd, especially 
 As "Live and let live" is their creed. 
 
 Our booth is up, both wind and water tight, 
 And all are looking forward to a treat : 
 Even now they sit, with eyebrows raised, and quite 
 For marvels primed, to lift them off their feet. 
 Well know I how to hit the public taste. 
 Yet ne'er felt so perplexed as now I feel ; 
 ^Tis true, they're not accustomed to the best. 
 
PRELUDE AT 
 
 But then the rogues have read an awful deal. 
 How to contrive, then, something fresh and new, 
 To set them thinking, yet amuse them too? 
 For, sooth, it glads my heart the crowd to view. 
 When, setting towards our booth with streamlike 
 
 rush. 
 They pour along, wave coursing wave, and through 
 The narrow doorway elbow, scjueeze, and crush : 
 When in broad da^■, by three, or even before, 
 They make a dash at the pay-taker's wicket. 
 Like starving men, that storm a baker's door 
 For bread, their ribs imperilling for a ticket. 
 This miracle on men so various may 
 The poet only work. Work thou it, friend, to-day! 
 
 Poet. 
 
 Oh, tell me not of yonder motley crew, 
 Which scares our spirit with its aspect coarse. 
 Yon surging throng, oh, veil it from my view, 
 Which in its eddies drags us down perforce ! 
 No, lead me to some heaven-calm nook, where true 
 Delight hath for the bard alone its source, 
 Where love and friendship wake, refine, expand 
 Our heart's blest blessings with celestial hand. 
 
 What there has touched the spirit's inward ear. 
 And on the lips a trembling eclio found, 
 Uncertain now, now full, perchance, and clear. 
 Is in the wild world's dizzying tumult drowned. 
 Oft only after throes of year on vear 
 With perfect form our spirit's dream is crowned ; 
 The showy lives its little hour ; the true 
 To after-tmies bears rapture ever new. 
 
 Mekhvm.vx. 
 
 Truce to this prate of after-times ! Were I 
 Of after-times to babble thus, why, who 
 Willi fun would these our present times supply? 
 Yet fun tliey will have, and with reason, too. 
 A jo\'ial presence, readiness, address. 
 
 Go far, believe nie, to command success. 
 He that can put what he has got to say 
 Into the compass of a pleasant piece, 
 And send his points home well, he, come what 
 
 may, 
 Will ne'er be soured by popular caprice. 
 He wants a large wide public for his sphere ; 
 There burns his genius with a tenfold ardour, 
 F'or there, he knows, he's sure to catch their ear, 
 To move them deeper, and to hit them harder. 
 Coragio, then, — to work! and let them see 
 The very type of what a piece should be. 
 Fancy with all her ministering train, — 
 Thought, Reason, Feeling, Passion, Melancholy, — 
 Make these to speak, each in her proper strain. 
 And, last not least, forget not, mark me, Folly! 
 
 Ma.ntagee. 
 
 But put, be sure, whatever else you may. 
 Enough of incident into your play. 
 Plenty to look at, — that 's what people like, 
 'Tis what they come for ; dazzle, then, their 
 
 e)'es 
 \\'ith bustle, plot, spectacle, — things that strike 
 The multitude with open-mouthed surprise. 
 "Superb! sublime!" they cry, "what breadth! 
 
 what power I " 
 And you become the lion of the hour. 
 Only by mass can you subdue the masses, 
 A sop for every taste, for every bent; 
 He that brings much brings something for all 
 
 classes. 
 And everybody quits the house content. 
 If you're to give a piece, in pieces give it! 
 With a ragout like that succeed you must. 
 To serve it up so is quite easy — just 
 As easy anyhow as to invent it. 
 In one organic whole though you ])resent it, 
 Harmonious and compact, it little matters ; 
 Tlie public 's sure to tear it into tatters, 
 Blur every tint, and every joint unrivet. 
 
THE THE A TRE. 
 
 Poet. 
 
 You do not feel, how all unworthy is 
 Such vulgar handicraftsman's work as this; 
 How little consonant with every aim, 
 That spurs the genuine artist on to fame. 
 Mere paltry patchwork, gaudy, and unreal. 
 Run up at random by your bungling fool, 
 Alas! too well, I see, is your ideal. 
 Approved by choice and justified by rule. 
 
 Manage li. 
 
 Rail on! I care not how you thrust. 
 
 Whoe'er would work to purpose must 
 
 Choose tools that best his purpose fit. 
 
 Think, what soft wood you have to split, 
 
 And only look for whom you write. 
 
 One comes to seek a brief respite 
 
 From ennui, if he can, and vapours; 
 
 Another stupid from a heavy meal. 
 
 And, what is worse than all a deal. 
 
 Scores fresh from reading magazines and papers, 
 
 They rush to us as to a masquerade, 
 
 Quite in the cue for dissijiation, 
 
 And the mere prospect of a new sensation 
 
 Wings all their footsteps, man and maid. 
 
 The ladies, in their best arrayed. 
 
 Think only how to catch the eye. 
 
 And with our own performers vie. 
 
 Themselves performers, though unpaid. 
 
 Your poet-dreams, your soarings high. 
 
 Oh, they were there appropriate, very ! 
 
 Zounds, do you fancy, these will ever draw 
 
 A bumper house, or make it merry? 
 
 Regard your patrons closely. Why, 
 
 They're one half cold, the other raw. 
 
 One's longing for the play to end, 
 
 That he may have his game of cards in (juiet. 
 
 Another's eager to be off, to spend 
 
 The night upon a wench's lap in riot. 
 
 Why then, ye simpletons, for such a pack 
 
 Put the sweet, gracious Muses on the rack? 
 
 I tell you, only give enough to hear and see. 
 
 No matter what the quality may be ! 
 
 And you can never miss your mark. Contrive 
 
 To keep folk's curiosity alive. 
 
 Their senses stun, and mystify their brains ; 
 
 To satisfy them's more than man can do. 
 
 How! What's amiss? Are these poetic pains, 
 
 Or stomach-(;[ualms, that have got hold of )'0u ? 
 
 PdET. 
 
 Begone, and seek elsewhere some other man, 
 Lackey in soul, to work on such a plan ! 
 What ! shall the poet fool, at thy behest. 
 The right away, 'twere sin if he forsook. 
 His human-heartedness, the noblest, best, 
 Endowment, which from Nature's hands he took? 
 By what stirs he all hearts as by a spell, 
 And makes them quail, or at his will be strong? 
 By what does he each element compel, 
 To lend some fresh enchantment to his song? 
 Oh, is it not the harmony, that rings 
 From his full soul with unconstrained art, 
 And, circling round creation's orbit, brings 
 The whole world back in music to his heart? 
 When Nature winds her endless threads along 
 The spindles, heedless how they cross or tangle, 
 When all created things, a jarring throng. 
 In chaos intermingling, clash and jangle, 
 Who parts them, till each living fibre takes 
 Its ordered place, and moves in rh)'thmic time, 
 Who in the general consecration makes 
 Each unit swell the symphony sublime ? 
 Who links our passions with the tempest's glooms, 
 Our solemn thoughts with twilight's roseate red. 
 Who scatters all the springtide's loveliest blooms 
 Along the path the loved one deigns to tread ? 
 Who of some chance green leaves doth chaplets 
 
 twine 
 Of glory for desert in every field, 
 Assures Olympus, gives the stamp ilivine? 
 Man's power immortal in the bard revealed ! 
 
PRELUDE AT 
 
 Mkrrymas. 
 
 To work, then, with these powers so rare, 
 
 And ply your task of bard and singer, 
 
 As people push a love afiair! 
 
 They meet by accident, are smitten, linger, 
 
 And get themselves somehow into a tangle; 
 
 All's love and bliss, — then comes a tift', a 
 
 wrangle, 
 In heaven one hour, the next, despair, distraction, 
 And, presto, lo! a whole romance in action! 
 After this fashion let us, too, 
 Construct our piece. But see, that you 
 Go straight at all the slir and strife. 
 That agitate our human life; 
 All have it, but not many know it. 
 Get hold of it, where'er you will, 
 In all its motley mi.xture show it, 
 And it is interesting still. 
 A medley give of personages, wheeling 
 'Neath impulses half seen, lialf hid from view, 
 With much that 's false to nature and to feeling 
 Mix here and there a spice of sometliing true : 
 So you a famous beverage compound. 
 To rouse and edify the house all round. 
 Then to your play throngs youtli's prime flower, 
 
 intent 
 To see its future there made clear and plain. 
 Then tender souls from it seek nourishment, 
 To feed withal their melancholy vein. 
 Call up now this, now that, love, hate, mirth, 
 
 rage, despair, 
 And all will then behold what in their heart they 
 
 bear. 
 They still are of that happy age, when they 
 Are equally prepared to laugh or weep; 
 They still can find a pleasure in dis])lay. 
 Still reverence bold imagination's sweep. 
 Me tliat is i)ast his growtli, liard, formal, set, 
 There 's no contenting him, liowe'cr you sing: 
 The )'oung, with all their growth liefore tliem )'et, 
 Will tliank you heartily for all you bring. 
 
 Poet. 
 
 Then give, oil give me back the days, 
 When 1 myself, like them, was growing, 
 ^\'hen forth gushed thronging lays on lays. 
 As from a fountain ever flowing ; 
 Wlieii to my wondering eyes the world, 
 As in a veil of mist, was set, 
 And every bud gave promise yet 
 Of marvels in its leaves upcurled ; 
 When swiftly sped the hapjjy hours. 
 As, roaming like a summer gale, 
 I plucked at will the thousand flowers, 
 That blossomed thick through every vale. 
 Nought had I then, )-et had in sooth 
 Such wealth as nothing could enhance. 
 The thirst unquenchable for truth. 
 The blest delusions of romance. 
 Give each bold impulse back to me, 
 The deep wild joy, that thrilled like pain, 
 The might of hate, love's ecstasy. 
 Give me my youth again ! 
 
 Mi';hi!'i;\i,\n. 
 
 Of youth, good friend, you would have need, 
 
 no doubt. 
 If foes on battle-plain were round }'ou pressing. 
 If some fond wench had flung her arms about 
 ^'our neck, and plied you hard with her caressing ; 
 If from a far-off goal, nigh out of sight, 
 The wreath, for him that wins the prize, were 
 
 blinking. 
 If, after dancing madly lialf the night. 
 You setded down to spend the rest in drinking. 
 But on the lyre's familiar strings to lay 
 Your grasp with masterful, yet sweet control, 
 And, there meandering gracefully, to stra)' 
 On to your shining self-appointed goal, — 
 This the vocation is of you old fellows. 
 Nor do we therefore prize you less, my friend. 
 
rilE THEATRE. 
 
 Age does not make men childish, as folks tell us, 
 It only finds them children to the end. 
 
 Man'aoei;. 
 
 Enough of talk ! At all events, 
 
 I fain would see you up and doing ; 
 
 While you are turning compliments, 
 
 Something to purpose might be brewing 
 
 Why speak of waiting for the mood ? 
 
 Wait, and 'twill never come at all ! 
 
 You set up for a poet, — good ! 
 
 Then hold your poetry at call. 
 
 You know the article we want, — 
 
 A drink, strong, sharp, and stimulant, — 
 
 So get to work, and brew away ! 
 
 Full well we wot, and to our sorrow. 
 
 That what's not set about to-day 
 
 Is never finished on the morrow. 
 
 No man of sense will waste in sucli 
 
 Delays one day, one single hour; 
 
 No, he will by the forelock clutch 
 
 Whatever lies within his power; 
 
 Stick fast to it, and neither shirk, 
 
 Nor from his enterprise be tlirust, 
 
 But, having once begun to work, 
 
 Go working on, because he must. 
 
 On German stages one e.xpects. 
 
 You know, vagaries wild and daring, 
 
 So of mechanical effects. 
 
 And gorgeous scenery be not sparing ! 
 
 Turn on heaven's greater light and less, 
 
 Be lavish of the stars withal, 
 
 l''ire, forest, sea, crag, waterfall, 
 
 Birds, beasts into your service press. 
 
 So in this narrow booth sweep round 
 
 Creation to its farthest bound. 
 
 And, with such speed as best will tell. 
 
 From heaven post through the world to hell I 
 
 B2 
 
PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. 
 
 Myff§). 
 
S^u^^^^SE^Z^S'T^Si^^SxSFF^IS^ 
 
 WWr?77 
 
 ^^^^ '^'^~ 
 
 
 The Ldhi). 'riii-; Mi.;a\f,xly Hosts. Af/fncanfs MEi'iusrni'iiEi,r,; 
 
 The Thuee AiiciiAXfaoES innii- fonoarJ. 
 
 Raphael. 
 
 The sun in chorus, ns of old, 
 
 With brother spheres is sounding still, 
 And, on its thunderous orbit rolled, 
 
 Doth its appointed course fulfil. 
 The angels, as they gaze, grow strong, 
 
 Though fathom it they never may ; 
 These works sublime, untouched by wrong. 
 
 Are bright as on the primal day. 
 
 Gaijkhol. 
 
 And swift, beyond conceiving swift, 
 
 The earth is wheeling onward ; mark ! 
 From dark to light its surface shift, 
 
 From brightest light to deepest dark ! 
 In foam the sea's broad billows leaj), 
 
 y\nd lash the rocks with giant force, 
 And rock and billow onward sweep 
 
 With sun and stars in endless course. 
 
i6 
 
 PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. 
 
 jNilCllAlCI.. 
 
 Anil battling storms arc raging higli 
 
 l*'roni shore to sea, from sea to shore, 
 And radiate currents, as tliey lly, 
 
 'I'hat quicken earth through every pore. 
 There blasting lightnings scatter fear. 
 
 And thunders peal ; but here they lay 
 Their terrors down, and. Lord, revere 
 
 The gentle going of Th)- day. 
 
 The Tjuuce. 
 
 The angels, as the)- gaze, grow strong, 
 \'et fathom Thee they never may ; 
 
 And all Thy works, untouched by wrong 
 Are bright as on the primal day. 
 
 MEi'ULsTiiriu;T.t;s. 
 
 Since Thou, O Lord, amongst us com'st once 
 
 more, 
 To ask how things are getting forward here. 
 And Thou hast commonly been kind before, 
 I at Thy levee with the rest appear. 
 I can't talk grandl)-, not though these fine fijlks 
 Should all upon my homeliness cry scorn ; 
 My pathos surely would Thy mirth jirovoke, 
 ff Thou hadst not all merriment forsworn. 
 Of sun and worlds I nothing have to say ; 
 I only see, how mortals fume and fret. 
 The world's small god retains his old stamp yet ; 
 And is as queer as on the [jriraal day. 
 He had been better off, hadst Thou not some 
 Faint gleam of heavenly liglit into him put ; 
 Reason he calls it, and doth yet become 
 More Ijrutish through it than the veriest brute. 
 He seems to me, if I my thought may state, 
 
 One of those grasshoppers, with legs ell-long. 
 That flies and leaps, and flies again, and straight 
 Down in the grass is piping its old song! 
 ]f to the grass he kept, his grief were less, 
 liut he will thrust his nose in every dirty mess ! 
 
 Tnc LoKi). 
 
 Hast thou, then, nothing else to say but this? 
 
 Coniest thou ever, only to comjilain? 
 
 Art drou with nothing upon earth content? 
 
 MEi'in.s'riii'UEEES. 
 
 No, Lord! f find things there, as ever, much amiss. 
 Men and their troubles cause me genuine paui : 
 Not L'\en I would the poor souls torment. 
 
 Tui: Ldjui 
 
 Host thou know Faust? 
 
 MEI'llISTOI'inCEES. 
 
 What ! Doctor Faust ? 
 
 TuE 
 
 My servant. 
 
 MeI'MIS'I'IJI'IUCLES, 
 
 Thy servant ? Well, his service may be fervent. 
 But it is surely of the strangest kind. 
 Not upon earth, the fool ! is he 
 Content his food or drink to find ; 
 Craving for what can never be. 
 
PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. 
 
 17 
 
 Yet scarce to liis own madness blmd, 
 He would be soaring far and free, 
 In hopes to clutch Immensity. 
 From heaven he asks its fairest star, 
 From earth its every chief delight, 
 Yet all that's near, and all that's far. 
 Although they lay within his might, 
 Would never yield the looked-for zest. 
 Nor still the torturing tumult of his breast. 
 
 The Loud. 
 
 Though now he serve me stumblingly, the hour 
 Is nigh, when I shall lead him into light. 
 When the tree buds, the gardener knows, tliat 
 
 flower 
 And fruit will make the coming seasons bright. 
 
 MurnisToruELES. 
 
 What will you wager? If you only let 
 
 Me lead him without hindrance my own way, 
 
 I'll answer for it, you shall lose him yet ! 
 
 The Lord. 
 
 So long as on the earth he lives, you may 
 Your snares for him and fascinations set: 
 Man, while his struggle lasts, is prone to stray. 
 
 MeI'IIISTOI'IIELES. 
 
 For this you have my thanks ; for I protest, 
 That with dead men I never cared to deal ; 
 Plump, rosy cheeks are what I like the best. 
 When corpses call, I'm out; for, sooth, I feel. 
 Like cats with mice, 'tis life that gives the zest. 
 
 Tee Loud. 
 
 Enough, 'lis granted! From the source, wlierc he 
 His being had, this sjiirit turn aside. 
 And lead him, if thou'rt able, down \\'ith thee, 
 Along thy way, that pleasant is and wide; 
 And stand abaslied, when thou art forced to own, 
 A good man, in llie darkness and disma)' 
 Of powers that fail, and purposes o'erthrown, 
 May still be conscious of the proper way. 
 
 Mi':i'His'i'()i'ni':r,i'.s. 
 
 Good! l!ut at rest the ymni will soon be set; 
 
 I'm not at all alarmed about m\' liet. 
 
 If I should win and crow too loudly, you 
 
 Will not amiss my little triumph take? 
 
 Dust shall he eat, ay, ami with relish, ton, 
 
 Like that old cousin of mine, the famous snake. 
 
 Tiu', L(]iui 
 
 As to this, also, thou art \\'holly free ; 
 
 Hate have I never felt for such as thee ! 
 
 Among the spirits that deny. 
 
 The scoffer doth offend me least of all. 
 
 Who may on man's activity rely? 
 
 Into indulgent case 'tis apt to fall. 
 
 Whatever his beginnings, soon he grows 
 
 To yearn for unconditional repose ; 
 
 And therefore am I alvways glad to yoke 
 
 In fellowship with him a comrade, who 
 
 Is ever ready to incite, provoke. 
 
 And must, as devil, be stirring, such as you. 
 
 But ye, true sons of heaven, rejoice to share 
 The wealth exuberant of all that's fair, 
 Which lives, and has its being everywhere! 
 And the creative essence which surrounds. 
 
PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. 
 
 And lives all-wlieres, and worketh evermore, 
 Encompass you within love's gracious bounds ; 
 And all the world of things, which flit before 
 The gaze in seeming fitful and obscure. 
 Do ye in lasting thoughts embody and secure ! 
 ■ Heaven closes: tlic Ai;riiA.\(";ELs ilispcrsc. 
 
 MErniSTOriiELKS [alone). 
 
 The Old One now and then I like to see. 
 And not to break with him take special heed. 
 'Tis very good of such a great grandee 
 To be so civil to me, — 'tis indeed. 
 

 FAUST: A TRAGEDY. 
 
 um 
 
 c? 
 
ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I.— NioiiT. 
 
 J loftv, ViUilkd, narrow, Gothic cliainhcr. 
 Faust seated at Ins desk. 
 
 Falst. 
 
 . ■ , , ■^ -~.;>- - T.T. that philosophy can teach, 
 
 The craft of lawyer and of leech, 
 
 I've mastered, ah ! and sweated through 
 
 Theology's dreary deserts, too, 
 
 Yet here, poor fool ! for all my lore, 
 
 I stand no wiser than before. 
 
 They call me magister, save the mark ! 
 
 Doctor, withal ! and these ten years I 
 
 Have been leading my pupils a dance in the dark. 
 
 Up hill, down dale, through wet and through dry — 
 
 And yet, that nothing can ever be 
 
 By mortals known, too well I see! 
 
 This is burning the heart clean out of me. 
 
 More brains have I than all the tribe 
 
 Of doctor, magister, parson, and scribe. 
 
 From doubts and scruples my soul is free; 
 
 Nor hell nor devil has terrors for me: 
 
 But just for this I am dispossessed 
 
 Of all that gives pleasure to life and zest. 
 
 I can't even juggle myself to own, 
 
 There is any one thing to be truly known, 
 
1 
 
 2 2 FAUST. 
 
 
 Or auglit to be taught in science or arts, 
 
 Is numbed within )'our breast, and why 
 
 
 To better mankind and to turn their hearts. 
 
 A dead, dull, anguish makes your whole 
 
 
 Besides, I have neither land nor pence, 
 
 Life's pulses falter, and ebb, and die? 
 
 
 Nor worldly honour nor influence. 
 
 How should it be but so ? Instead 
 
 
 \ dog in my case would scorn to live I 
 
 Of the living nature, whereinto 
 
 
 So myself to magic I've vowed to give. 
 
 God has created man, things dead 
 
 
 And see, if through spirit's might and tongue 
 
 And drear alone encompass )0u — 
 
 
 The heart from some mysteries cannot be wrung ; 
 
 Smoke, litter, dust, the skeletons 
 
 
 If I cannot escape from the bitter woe 
 
 Of birds and beasts, and dead men's bones! 
 
 
 Of babbling of things that I do not know. 
 
 
 
 j And get to the root of those secret powers, 
 
 Up, up! Away to the champaign free! 
 
 
 Which hold together this world of ours, 
 
 And this mysterious volume, writ 
 
 
 The sources and centres of force explore, 
 
 By Nostradaams' self, is it 
 
 
 And chaffer and dabble in words no more. 
 
 Not guide and counsel enough for thee? 
 Then wilt thou learn, by what control 
 
 
 Oh, broad bright moon, if this might be 
 
 'J'he stars within their orbits roll, 
 
 
 The last of the nights of agony. 
 
 And if thou wilt let boon Nature be 
 
 
 The countless midnights, these weary eyes 
 
 The guide and monitress to thee, 
 
 
 Have from this desk here watched thee rise ! 
 
 Thy soul shall exjiand with tenfold force, 
 
 
 Then, sad-eyed friend, thy wistful looks 
 
 As spirit with spirit holds discourse. 
 
 
 Shone in upon me o'er paper and books ; 
 
 Dull poring, think not, that can here 
 
 
 But oh ! might I wander, in thy dear light. 
 
 Expound these holy signs to thee ! 
 
 
 O'er the trackless slopes of some mountain height, 
 
 Ye spirits, ye are hovering near. 
 
 
 Round mountain caverns with spirits sail. 
 
 If ye can hear me, answer me ! 
 
 
 Or float o'er the meads ui thy hazes pale ; 
 
 Throivs open tlic buok, and discovers tlie sign 
 
 
 j\.nd, freed from the fumes of a fruitless lore, 
 
 of file Macivcosni. 
 
 
 Bathe in thy dews, and be whole once more ! 
 
 Ha! as it meets my gaze, what rapture, gushing 
 Through all my senses, mounts into my brain ! 
 
 
 Ah me! am I penned in this dungeon still? 
 
 Youth's ecstasy divine, I feel it rushing, 
 
 
 Accursed doghole, clammy and chill ! 
 
 Like quickening fire, through every nerve and 
 
 
 Where heaven's own blessed light must pass, 
 
 vein ! 
 
 1 
 
 Shorn of its rays, through the painted glass. 
 
 Was it a god who chronicled these signs, 
 
 
 Narrowed and cumbered by piles of books. 
 
 Which all the war within me still. 
 
 
 That are gnawed by worms and grimed with dust, 
 
 The aching heart with sweetness fill, 
 
 
 And which, with its smoke-stained paper, looks 
 
 And to mine eyes, in clearest lines. 
 
 
 Swathed to the roof in a dingy rust; 
 
 Unveil all Nature's powers as with a mystic thrill ? 
 
 
 Stuck round with phials, and chests untold. 
 
 Am I a god? All grows so bright. 
 
 ^ 
 
 With instruments littered, and lumbered with old 
 
 In these pure outlines I behold 
 
 
 Crazy, ancestral, household ware — 
 
 Nature at work before my soul unrolled. 
 
 
 This is your world ! A world most rare ! 
 
 Now can I read the sage's saw aright : 
 "Not barred to man the world of spirits is; 
 
 
 And yet can you wonder, why your soul 
 
 Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead ! 
 
 
 
 
 —' 
 
FA US r. 
 
 I..:' 
 
 Up, student, lave, — nor dread the bliss, — 
 Thy earthly breast in the morning-red!" 
 
 [Gazes intently at the s/X''n. 
 
 Into one whole how all things blend. 
 
 One in the other working, living ! 
 
 What powers celestial, lo ! ascend, descend, 
 

 
 
 
 
 24 FAUSr. 
 
 
 Each unto each the golden pitchers giving ! 
 
 Sl'IRlT. 
 
 
 
 And, wafting blessings from tlieir wings. 
 
 Who calls on me? 
 
 
 
 From hea\-en through farthest earth career. 
 
 Facst [tiirniii^t^' aioav). 
 
 
 
 While through the uni\-ersal sphere 
 
 Dread vision gaunt ! 
 
 
 
 One uni\ersal concord rings ! 
 
 
 
 Oh, what a show! yet Ijut a sliow ! All mc! 
 
 SlllUT. 
 
 
 
 Where, boundless nature, shall I clutch at thee? 
 
 i;y potent art thou'st dragged me here; 
 
 
 
 Ye breasts, where are ye? Ye perennial springs 
 
 Thou'st long been sucking at my sphere, 
 
 
 Of life, whereon hantr heaven and earth. 
 
 A )-. il n ("Ml ' 
 
 
 
 Whereto the blighted bosom clings, 
 
 ii no i 1 \ 1 
 
 
 
 \'e gush, ye slake all thirst, yet I pine on in 
 
 FaUS'J'. 
 
 
 
 dearth ! 
 
 
 
 
 [Tiints the Iravcs of the Iwok aiii^rily, and sees 
 
 I loathe thee. Hence, avaunt ! 
 
 
 ///(' ^4''/' '/ (^>c Ein'th Spirit. 
 
 
 
 
 How ditlerently I feel before this sign ! 
 Earth Sjiirit, thou to mc art nearer; 
 
 Si'IlUT. 
 
 
 
 My faculties grow loftier, clearer. 
 
 To view me were thy prayer and choice, 
 
 
 
 Even now I glow as with new wine. 
 
 To see my face, to hear my voice. 
 
 
 Courage I feel, into the world to roam, 
 
 Well ! by thy potent prayer won o'er. 
 
 
 j To bid earth's joys and sorrows hail, 
 
 I come. And thou, that wouldst be more 
 
 
 1 'Mid storm and struggle to make my home. 
 
 Than mortal, having thy behest, 
 
 
 And in the crash of shipwreck not to quail. 
 
 Art with a craven fear possessed! 
 
 
 
 Clouds gather o'er my head; 
 
 Where is thy pride of soul? Where now the 
 
 
 
 The moon conceals her light, 
 
 breast, 
 
 
 
 The lamp 's gone out. The air 
 
 Which in itself a universe created 
 
 
 
 Grows thick and close ! Red flashes play 
 
 Sustained and fostered, — which dilated 
 
 
 
 Around me. From the vaulted roof 
 
 With giant throes of rapture, in the hope 
 
 
 
 A shuddering horror creeps 
 
 As peer with spirits such as me to cope? 
 
 
 
 And on me lays its gripe ! 
 
 Where art thou, Faust, whose summons rang 
 
 
 
 Spirit by me invoked, I feel 
 
 so wide, 
 
 
 
 Thou 'rt hovering near, — thou art, thou art! 
 
 Who stormed my haunts, and would not be 
 
 
 Unveil thyself! 
 
 denied ? 
 
 
 
 Ha ! What a tugging at my heart ! 
 
 Is this thing thou? This, my mere breath doth 
 
 
 
 Stirred through their depths, my senses reel 
 
 make 
 
 
 
 With passions new and strange ! I feel, 
 
 Through every nerve and fibre ipiake? 
 
 
 
 My heart is thine, thine wholly ! Hear ! 
 
 A crawling, cowering, timorous worm ? 
 
 
 
 Thou must! ay, though it cost my life, thou 
 
 
 
 
 must appear! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 
 
 \Sei'A's the hook, a/nl utters the six'// of tlic Spirit 
 
 
 mysteriously. A red liglit flashes, in n<hicJi 
 
 Thou lilm of flame, art thou a thing to fear? 
 
 
 
 the Spirit appears. 
 
 I am, I am that Faust! 1 am thy peer! 
 
 
 
 
 
FA US r. 
 
 25 
 
 Sl'IUIT. 
 
 In the currents of Life, in Action's storm 
 I wander and I wave, 
 Everywhere I be ! 
 Birth and the grave, 
 
 An infinite sea, 
 
 A web ever growing, 
 
 A life ever glowing, 
 
 Thus at Time's whizzing loom I spin. 
 
 And weave the living vesture, that God is mantled in ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Thou busy Spirit, who dost sweep 
 From sphere to sphere, from deep to deep. 
 Ranging the world from end to end, 
 How near akin I feel to thee ! 
 
 SruiiT. 
 Thou 'rt like the Spirit, thou dost comprehend. 
 But not like me! [Vanishes. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 But not like thee ! 
 
 Whom, then? What! I, 
 
 The image of the Deity ! 
 
 Yet not to be compared to thee? 
 
 [A knock. 
 
 O death ! My Famulus ! At time like this 
 To drag me from the top of bliss ! 
 That such a soulless driveller should 
 Disturb this vision's full beatitude ! 
 
26 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 liiitrr Wacxf,!: , iii hii Jrissiiix'-xv!^''! oinl /li^'/ii- 
 cap, Tuitli a lamp in lih liand. Faist tiinis 
 tJiL'iiY iinpaticiitlx. 
 
 WAflXEK. 
 
 I heard you, did I not, rlcclaim r 
 
 From one, no doulit, of the old Greek pki)-s ? 
 
 So in the art to take a hint I came ; 
 
 For it is much in favour nowadays. 
 
 Man\' a time I've lieard it said, at least, 
 
 An actor might give lessons to a priest. 
 
 Faust. 
 Yes, if the priest an actor be. 
 As now and then will happen, certainl)'. 
 
 Waoxer. 
 Ah! when one's in his study jtent, like me, 
 And sees the world hut on a rare occasion, 
 i\.nd then I'ar off, on some chance holiday, 
 And through a telescope, as one may say. 
 How can one ever ho]3e to sway. 
 Or govern it by ekKjuent persuasion? 
 
 Faust. 
 That is a power, which is not to be taught. 
 It must be felt, must gush forth from within. 
 And, rising to the lips in words unsought. 
 The hearts of all to deep emotion win. 
 Sit on for ever ! Till you ache, 
 Your patchwork and mosaics make ; 
 
FA US r. 
 
 n 
 
 With scraps, at others' baiKiucts found, 
 
 A ragout of your own compound, 
 
 And, blowing at your ash-heap, fan 
 
 What miserable flame you can ! 
 
 Children and apes may praise your art — 
 
 A noble triumph, you must own — 
 
 But you will never make heart throb with heart, 
 
 Unless your own heart first has struck tlie tone. 
 
 Wagxek. 
 Delivery makes the orator's success. 
 In that I'm far behind, I must confess. 
 
 Fau,st. 
 Scorn such success! Play thou an honest game! 
 Be no mere empty tinkling fool ! 
 True sense and reason reach their aim. 
 With little help from art or rule. 
 Be earnest ! Then what need, to seek 
 The words, that best your meaning speak? 
 Oh, your orations, garnished, trimmed, refined, 
 Tickling men's fancies where they're chiefly weak, 
 Are unrefreshing as the drizzling wind. 
 That through the autumn's sere leaves whistles bleak. 
 
 Wagxej!. 
 Ah me ! art is so long, and life so brief ! 
 Oft in my labours critical, a load 
 Seems weighing on my brain and heart, like lead. 
 How hard it is, almost beyond belief, 
 To get at knowledge in its fountain-head ! 
 And ere a man is half way on the road. 
 He's very sure, poor devil, to be dead. 
 
 Faust. 
 Is parchment, then, the sacred fount, can give 
 The stream, that shall allay thy thirst for ever? 
 Man never quaffed a draught restorative. 
 That from his own soul welled not — never, never ! 
 
 Wag>!ek. 
 Excuse me, surely 'tis a joy sublime, 
 To realize the spirit of a time. 
 To see how sages long ago have thought, 
 And the high pass to which things nowadays are 
 brought. 
 
 Faust. 
 High pass! Oh yes! As the welkin high! 
 My friend, to us they are, these times gone ljy, 
 A book with seven seals, and what you call 
 The spirit of the times, I've long suspected. 
 Is but the spirit of the men — that 's all — 
 In which the times they prate of are reflected. 
 And that 's a sight, God wot, so poor, so mean, 
 ^Ve run away from it, as soon as seen ; 
 Mere scrapis of odds and ends, old crazy lumber. 
 In dust-bins only fit to rot and slumber ; 
 At best a play on stilts, all strut and glare, 
 Gewgaws and glitter, fustian and pretence, 
 With maxims strewn of sage pragmatic air. 
 That, mouthed by puppets, pass with fools for sense. 
 
 Wagxek. 
 Ay, but the world ! Tlie heart and soul of man. 
 Something of these may, sure, be learned by all. 
 
 Faust. 
 As men call learning, yes, no doubt, it can ! 
 But who the child by its right name will call? 
 The few, who something of that knowledge learned, 
 And were not wise enough a guard to keep 
 On their full hearts, but to the people showed 
 The reaches of their soaring thoughts, the deep 
 Emotions that within them glowed. 
 Men at all times have crucified and burned. 
 I prithee, friend, 'tis far into the night. 
 And for the present we must say adieu ! 
 
 Wagxek. 
 I'd gladly watch till dawn, for the delight 
 Of such most edifying talk with you. 
 To-morrow, being Easter-day, 
 Good sir, if I so far might task you. 
 Some things diere are, which I should like to say. 
 Some further questions, I should like to ask you ; 
 My zeal has in my studies not been small ; 
 Much, it is true, I know, but I would fain know all. 
 
 [Exit. 
 Faust. 
 
 Strange, that all hope has not long since been 
 
 blighted 
 
28 
 
 FAL'Sr. 
 
 In one content on Mich mere chaff to teed, 
 \\ lio iIil;m tur treasure «ilh a miser's L^rccil, 
 And, il he finds a nuick-worm, is delighted ! 
 
 Pare sncli a thing as this to bahhle now, 
 When all aroiniil with spirit-life is teeming: 
 Net ah, I thank thee, though the sorriest thou 
 ( )[ all that treati the earth in mortal seeming. 
 Thou rest uedst me from the despair, that fast 
 \\'as wildering my Lirain with mad surmise. 
 Ah, yonder vision u'as so giant-vast, 
 I shrank before it to a pigmy's size. 
 
 I, God's o\Mi image, I, who deemed I stood 
 With truth eternal full within my gaze, 
 :\nd, of this earthly husk divested, \'iewed 
 In ileep contentment heaven's effulgent blaze ; 
 I, more than cherub, whose free powers, methought. 
 Did all the veins of nature permeate, 
 I, who — so potently my fancy wrought — 
 Conceived that, like a god, I could create, 
 .\nd in creating taste a bliss supreme. 
 How must I expiate my frenzied dream? 
 (.)ne word, that smote like thunder on my brain, 
 Swei)t me away to nothingness again. 
 
 1 dared not deem myself for thee a p)eer ; 
 Though to evoke thee I the power possessed. 
 Vet ^\■as I impotent to keep thee here. 
 Oh, in the rapture of that moment blest 
 I felt myself so little, yet so great! 
 ISul thou didst thrust me back, with cruel scorn, 
 llpon the sad uncertainties forlorn 
 ( )f man's mere mortal state. 
 Who is to teach me? What shall I 
 Recoil from? What go widely by? 
 ^'on impulse, passionate, pirofound. 
 Shall I obey it, or forswear? 
 Alas ! our way of life is cramped and bound 
 By what we do, no less than what we're doomed 
 to bear ! 
 
 Around our sjiirit's dreams, our noblest, best. 
 Some base alloy lor ever clings and grows; 
 
 Once of the good things of this world possessed, 
 We call a better wealth but lying shows. 
 The glorious feelings, those that most we prized. 
 That made indeed our very life of life, 
 In the world's turmoil and ignoble strife 
 Are seared and paralyzed. 
 
 If fancy, for a season flushed with hope. 
 
 Through boundless ether soars with wing unchecked, 
 
 A little space for her is ample scope. 
 
 When in Time's quicksands joy on joy lies wrecked. 
 
 Anon creeps care into our nether heart, 
 
 And there of secret sorrows breeds great store; 
 
 Uneasily she sits, and mopes apart, 
 
 Marring our joy and peace ; and evermore 
 
 Fresh masks she dons , to work us bitter dole. 
 
 Turn where we will, she haunts our life, 
 
 As house and land, as child and wife, 
 
 As fire and flood, as knife and poisoned bowl. 
 
 I am not like the gods, too well I feel ! 
 No ! Like the worm, that writhes in dust, am I, 
 Which, as it feeds on dust, the passer-by 
 Stamps into nothingness beneath his heel. 
 
 For what but dust, mere dust, is all, 
 
 A\'hich, piled in endless shelf and press. 
 
 From iloor to roof, contracts this lofty wall? 
 
 The trash, all frippery and emptiness, 
 
 Which here, in this moth-swarming hole, 
 
 Cramps, cabins, and confines my soul? 
 
 How shall I e'er discover here 
 
 The light and lore, for which I yearn' 
 
 Is all my ]ioring, year by year, 
 
 On books b)- thousands, but to learn, 
 
 That mortals have been wretched everywhere, 
 
 And only one been happy here and there? 
 
 What, hollow skull, what means that grin of thine? 
 
 But that thy brain was once, like mine, distraught. 
 
 Did after truth with rapturous passion pine, 
 
 And, while the radiance of the day it sought. 
 
 Grew at each step less certain of its way, 
 
 And in the twilight went disastrously astray? 
 
FA US T. 
 
 29 
 
 Ye instruments, at nie ye surely mock, 
 
 With cog and wheel and coil and cylinder ! 
 
 I at the door of knowledge stooil, ye were 
 
 The key, which should that door for nie unlock; 
 
 Your wards, I ween, have many a cunning maze, 
 
 But yet the bolts ye cannot, cannot raise. 
 
 Inscrutable in noonday's blaze, 
 
 Nature lets no one tear the veil away, 
 
 And what herself she does not choose 
 
 Unasked before your soul to lay. 
 
 You shall not wrest from her by levers or by screws. 
 
 Old lumber, that hast ne'er been used by me, 
 The reason, and the only, thou art here, 
 Is that my father worked of yore with thee ! 
 And thou, old roll, hast rotted here and mouldered, 
 Smeared with the fumes of smoke year after year, 
 Since tirst upon this desk the dull lamp smouldered. 
 Oh, better far, had I with hand profuse 
 Squandered the little I can call my own. 
 Than with that litfle here to sweat and groan! 
 Would you possess, enjoy and turn to use 
 What from your sires you have inherited 
 What a man owns, but knows not to employ, 
 A burden is, that weighs on him like lead ; • 
 Nought can avail him, nought can he enjoy, 
 Save what is by the passing moment bred. 
 
 Why is my gaze on yonder corner glued ? 
 Yon flask, is it a magnet to my sight? 
 Why, why is all at once as lovely, bright. 
 As sudden moonshine in a midnight wood? 
 
 All hail, thou priceless phial, which I here 
 Take from thy shelf with reverential hand ! 
 In thee man's skill and wisdom I revere. 
 Thou quintessence of all the juices bland. 
 That drowse the brain with slumber, — abstract thou 
 Of all most subtle deadly agencies. 
 Bestow thy grace upon thy master now ! 
 I see thee, and my anguish finds a balm, 
 I touch thee, and the turmoil turns to calm; 
 My soul's flood-tide is ebbing by degrees. 
 A viewless finger beckons me to fleet 
 
 To shoreless seas, where never tempest roars, 
 The glassy flood is shining at uiy feet, 
 Another day invites to other shores. 
 
 A car of fire, by airy pinions driven. 
 
 Flits o'er me : and I stand prepared to flee. 
 
 By tracks untrodden, through the wastes of heaven. 
 
 Up to new spheres of pure activity. 
 
 This life sublime, this godlike rapturous tlirill. 
 
 Can these by thee, a worm but now, be won? 
 
 Yes, so thou turn with a resolved will 
 
 Thy back on earth, and on its kindly sun ! 
 
 The gates, most men would slink like cravens by, 
 
 Dare diou to burst asunder! Lo, the hour 
 
 Is here at hand by deeds to testify, 
 
 Man's worth can front the gods in all their power; 
 
 To gaze unblenching on that murky pit. 
 
 Where fancy weaves herself an endless doom, 
 
 To storm that pass, whose narrow gorge is lit 
 
 By hell-fires flickering through the ghastly gloom ; 
 
 Serene, although the risk before thee lay. 
 
 Into blank nothingness to melt away ! 
 
 Then come thou down, pure goblet crystalline, 
 Out from that time-stained covering of thine. 
 Where I unmarked for years have let thee rest. 
 Thou sparkled'st, when my grandsire's feasts were 
 
 crowned, 
 Lit'st up the smiles of many a sad-browed guest. 
 As each man to his neighbour passed thee round. 
 Thy figures, marvels of the artist's craft. 
 The drinker's task, to tell their tale in rhyme, 
 And drain thy huge circumference at a draught. 
 Bring many a night back of my youthful prime. 
 I shall not pass thee now to comrade boon, 
 Nor torture my invention, to explain 
 The quaint devices of thy graver's brain. 
 Here is a juice intoxicates full soon ; 
 Its current brown brims up thy ample bowl. 
 Now do I pledge this draught, my last best care. 
 In festive greeting, and with all my soul. 
 To the day-dawn, shall hail me otherwhere ! 
 
 'Raises tlic goblcf to his lips. Pealing of 
 bells, anil ehoral song. 
 
FA US T. 
 
 CiK.iiius (IF Angels. 
 
 Christ is ascended! 
 Hail tlie glad token, 
 True was it spoken, 
 Sin's fetters are broken, 
 Man's bondaLTc is ended ! 
 
FA US T. 
 
 31 
 
 Faust. 
 
 \Vliat deepening luini is tliis, what silver cliinie 
 Drags from my lips perforce the cup away? 
 Ye booming bells, do you i)roclaim the time 
 Once more begun of Easter's festal day? 
 And you, ye pealing choirs, do you the songs 
 r)f consolation and glad tidings chant, 
 Mymncd round the seiiulchre by angel throngs, 
 Pledge of a new and nobler covenant? 
 
 CnoKUS OF \Vohm;n, 
 
 With myrrli and with aloes 
 
 We balmed and we bathed Him, 
 
 Loyally, lovingly, 
 
 Tenderly swatlied Him ; 
 
 \Vith cerecloth and band 
 
 For the grave we arra)'ed 1 lim , 
 
 But oh, He is gone 
 
 From the place where wc laid Him ! 
 
 Cnniais of Amiicls. 
 
 Christ is ascended ! 
 The love that possessed Him, 
 The pangs that oppressed Idim, 
 To i)ro\'e and to test Him, 
 In triumph have ended ! 
 
 n 
 
 Faust. 
 
 E heavenly strains, potent yet soothing, why 
 Seek ye out me, a crawler in the dust? 
 Ring out for men more pliant-souled than I ! 
 The message though I hear, I lack the faith robust. 
 Faith's darling child is miracle. I must, 
 I dare not strive to mount to yonder spheres, 
 Whence I'teal these tidings of great joy to men ; 
 Yet does the strain, familiar to mine ears 
 From childhooti, call me back even now to life 
 
 again. 
 Ah, then I felt the kiss of heavenly love 
 On me in Sabbath's holy calm descending, 
 The bells rang mystic meanings from abo\-e, 
 A prayer was ecstasy, that seemed unending; 
 A longing sweet, that would not be controlled. 
 Drove me through field and wood ; and from my 
 
 eyes 
 Whilst tears, whose source I could not fathom, 
 
 rolled, 
 I felt a great glad world for me arise. 
 
FA US T. 
 
 This antlieni heralded youth's merriest time, 
 The gambols of bhthe Spring: now memories sweet, 
 Fraught with the feelings of my childhood's prime. 
 From the last step decisive stay my feet. 
 Oh peal, sweet heavenly anthems, peal as then! 
 Tears flood mine eyes, earth has her child again. 
 
 Cnoiirs (IF DiscirLES. 
 
 He that was buried, 
 On high has ascended ; 
 There lives in glory. 
 Sublimely attended. 
 In heaven whilst He reigneth, 
 For us Who was slain here, 
 On earth we, Flis chosen, 
 To suffer remain here, — 
 To suffer and languish 
 
 Midst pain and annoy; 
 Lord, in our anguish, 
 We envy Thy jo)'. 
 
 ClIOIlUS OF ANflCLS. 
 
 From the lap of corruption, 
 Lo ! Christ has ascended! 
 Rejoice, for the fetters, 
 That bound you, are rended ! 
 Praise Him unceasingly. 
 Love one another, 
 Break bread together, like 
 Sister and brother ! 
 Preach the glad tidings 
 To all who will hear you, 
 So will the Master be 
 Fvermore near you ! 
 
'/P*?^-"r 
 
FA US T. 
 
 33 
 
 ^^Jj^d^^l 
 
 SCENE 11. — Before the Town Gate. 
 
 Pivmcnadcrs of all kinds pass out. 
 
 A Party of Meciianios. 
 But why are you turning up the hill ? 
 
 Another Party. 
 We for the Jiigerhaus are bound. 
 
 First Party. 
 We think of sauntering towards the mill. 
 
 A Mechanic. 
 Best by the Wasserhof go round. 
 
 Second Mechanic. 
 The road there is none of the prettiest. 
 
 The Others. 
 And where are you for? 
 
 Third Mechanic. 
 
 I go with the rest. 
 

 
 
 
 
 34 FAirsr. 
 
 
 
 FoCKTII Mkchaxic. 
 
 Siocoxn Stidiox']' i/n the first). 
 
 
 
 Come up to the Burgdorf! That's the place. 
 
 Not quite so fast! Behind us, yonder, see. 
 
 
 
 Where one is sure to find the best of cheer. 
 
 A brace of wenches rigged out smart and neat! 
 
 
 
 The prettiest wenches, and tlie strongest beer, 
 
 One lives almost next door to me, 
 
 
 
 And a good jolly row in any case. 
 
 And on the girl I'm very sweet. 
 I''or all their looking so demure. 
 
 
 
 Fifth Mucuanic. 
 
 They'll lake us with them presently, I'm sure. 
 
 
 
 You pestilent sca|)egracc, 
 
 FiusT Student. 
 
 
 A third time do you want to be well wliacked? 
 
 No, no! all prudes are bores. Quick, come away. 
 
 
 I don't half fanc)' going diere ; in fact, 
 
 Or we shall let the game slij) ! 'Tis confessed. 
 
 
 I have a perfect horror of the place 
 
 1 
 
 The hand, that twirls the mop on Saturda)-, 
 Fondles on Sunday «'ith peculiar zest. 
 
 
 1 e n 
 
 bEKYAXT LjIRL. 
 
 Citizex. 
 
 
 I will go back to town, I will, that's flat! 
 
 What, our new burgomaster? Nay, 
 He is a man I cannot Ijear. 
 
 
 Skcoxu Sekvaxt Gnn,. 
 
 He grows more overbearing every da)-, 
 
 
 We're sure to find him at the poj.ilars 3'onder. 
 
 Since he was called into the chair. 
 And what, pray, does he for the town? 
 
 
 FntST SniiVANT GlUL. 
 
 Are things not daily growing worse? 
 
 
 And much the better I shall be tor that ! 
 
 Are we not more and more kept down. 
 
 
 By whose side will he walk, I wonder? 
 
 And pulled at more and more in purse? 
 
 
 Why, yours ! And dance with you, and you 
 
 Beooak (j'///,i,'i'). 
 
 
 alone : 
 
 Kind sirs, and ladies fair and sweet. 
 
 
 So, while you have your frolic, I may moan. 
 
 With rosy cheeks and handsome dresses. 
 Look down upon rne, I entreat. 
 
 
 
 Se('(.ino Si;i;\a\'|' Gnu,. 
 
 Observe, and lighten my distresses. 
 
 
 
 He's sure to ha\'e a friend! Ah, come now, do! 
 
 In [lit)' listen to my voice! 
 
 
 
 He said that Curlylocks was coming, too. 
 
 Free hands make merry hearts and ga\ ; 
 
 
 
 So make this day, when all rejoice. 
 
 
 
 Sti'dext. 
 
 To me a very harvest-day. 
 
 
 
 Zounds, how these strapping girls step out ! 
 
 Secox'I) Citizen. 
 
 
 
 Come, brother, come, let's join them for a bout 
 
 There 's nothing more my heart on Sundays cheers. 
 
 
 A beer that stuns, a pi])e that bites. 
 
 Or holidays, than a gossip about war 
 
 
 
 And a wench in her braws, are my delights. 
 
 And warlike rumours, when the peoples far 
 y\way in Turkey all are by the ears. 
 
 
 
 Citizen's Dat"(,titei!. 
 
 We by the window stand, toss off our glass. 
 
 
 
 These fine young fellows, look where dicy go! 
 
 And down the river watch the painted vessels 
 
 
 
 'Tis a downright shame, when they might know 
 
 gliding; 
 
 
 
 The best of company, if they please. 
 
 Then home at evening merrily we pass. 
 
 
 
 To be running after such drabs as these ! 
 
 And bles,s the comforts of a peace abiding. 
 
 
 
FA US T. 
 
 35 
 
 'J'liiKD Citizen. 
 Ay, neighbour, nor care I what lengths they go. 
 Zounds, they may cleave each other's [)atcs, they 
 
 may, 
 And turn the whole world topsy-turvy, so 
 They leave thuigs here at home to jog on the 
 
 old way. 
 
 Oi.i) Wdalvn {/h the Citizens dauy^litcrsi) 
 
 lleyda) ! Mow smart! 'J'lie pretty dears ! Who'd 
 
 not 
 Lie fairly smitten, now, that met you? 
 You needn't be so haughty, though, God wot ! 
 What you desire 1 know the way to get y(ju. 
 
 Citizen's DAron'jKK. 
 
 Come, Agatlia! I'd rather not lie seen, to greet 
 A witch like this ujjon the public street ; 
 ISut on Saint Anilrew's Eve she let me see 
 In llesli and blood my lover that's to be. 
 
 The Other. 
 
 Mine, too, she showed me in the glass, 
 A soldier, one of a dare-devil set ; 
 
 Here, there, all wheres I seek him, but, alas ' 
 I have not come across him yet. 
 
 S(.ildiees (f/i'")- 
 
 Towns, with loud defiance sent 
 Down from tower and battlement; 
 Maidens, rosy as the morn, 
 Flashing round them looks of scorn. 
 These alike for us have charms, 
 Sound alike tlie cry, "To arms!" 
 When such glorious [irizes call us, 
 Death nor danger can appal us. 
 
 When we hear the trumpets blow, 
 On to death or bliss we go! 
 What is like the soldier's trade? 
 What can match such escalade? 
 k'orted towns, and maidens tender 
 Must alike tfi us surrender. 
 When such glorious prizes call us. 
 Death nor danger can appal us. 
 
 Cnoiu's. 
 
 Maids or widows may be sighing, 
 ( )n we march with colours Hying ! 
 
 
 E2 
 
36 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 FaI ST. 
 
 Freed from the ice are river and rill 
 
 By the iiuickening glance of the gracious S|)ring; 
 
 Green with .promise are valley and hill. 
 
 Old winter, palsied and shivering, 
 
 Back has crept to his mountains bleak, 
 
 And sends from them, as he flies appalled, 
 
 Showers of impotent hail, to streak 
 
 The lields that are green as emerald. 
 
 But the sun no shimmer of whiteness brooks; 
 
 The earth is through all her pores alive, 
 
 Budding and bursting, and all things strive 
 
 To enliven with colours their winterlv looks , 
 
 And the landscape, though bare of flowers, makes 
 
 cheer 
 With people dressed out in their holiday gear. 
 Turn round, and from this height look down 
 Over the vineyards upon the town ! 
 A motley medley is making its way 
 Out from the murky wide-mouthed gate. 
 Blithely they bask in the sun to-day. 
 The Saviour's Rising they celebrate, 
 For they liave risen themselves, I ween ; 
 From the close, damp, rooms of their hovels mean, 
 From the bonds of business, and labour, and 
 
 care, 
 
 From the gables and roofs, that oppress them there, 
 
 From the stifling closeness of street and lane. 
 
 From the 'churches' gloom-inspiring night, 
 
 They all have emerged into the light. 
 
 But, see, how they are spreading amain 
 
 Across the gardens and fields, and how 
 
 The river, as far as the eye can note, 
 
 Is all alive with shallop and boat! 
 
 And look ! the last dejiarting now, 
 
 Laden so deeply it scarce can float. 
 
 Far up on the. hills as the pjathways run, 
 
 Gay dresses are glistering in the sun. 
 
 Hark now the din of the village ! Here 
 
 Is the pjeople's true heaven. AVith hearty glee. 
 
 Little and great, how they shout and cheer ! 
 
 Here I am man, here such dare be. 
 
 W.VriNF.H. 
 
 'l"o walk about with you. Sir Doctor, so 
 Is honour, yea, and profit. Still, were 1 alone, 
 I would not here be loitering thus, I own. 
 Seeing of all that's coarse I am the foe. 
 Your fiddling, shouting, skittle-playing, all 
 Are noises which I loathe and (juite resent. 
 These creatures rave, as if the devil drove, and call 
 Their riot song, forsooth, and merriment. 
 
FA US r. 
 
 37 
 
 PnA.SANTK LINUEK THE LliNllKM TuEE. 
 
 Dance and Sc/i^. 
 
 The shepherd for the dance was dressed ; 
 All tricked out in his Sunday best, 
 
 With ribbons gay and sightly. 
 Thronged round the linden lass and lad, 
 And all were dancing there like mad, 
 Huzza ! huzza ! 
 Hip ! hip ! huzza ! 
 The fiddle-bow went sprightly. 
 
 Into the thick of them he paced. 
 And clipped a damsel round the waist, 
 His arms about her bending ; 
 
 The buxom wencli turned roiuid anil said, 
 "You stupid oaf, wlierc were you bred?" 
 
 Huzza ! huzza ! 
 
 Hip ! liip ! huzza ! 
 "Your manners, sir, want menduig ! " 
 
 fjut faster grew tlie fun, and right 
 /\nd left they wheeled ; it was a sight 
 
 To see the kirtles Hying ! 
 And tliey grew red, and they grew warm, 
 And then they rested, arm in arm, 
 
 Huzza ! huzza ! 
 
 Hi}] ! hip ! huzza ! 
 Such panting, and such sighing ! 
 
 "Hold off your saucy hands! You men 
 Are all deceit and falsehood, when 
 
FA US T. 
 
 You find a girl undouljting. " 
 Llut lie coaxed licr, and she .stc})ped aside, 
 ^Vllile fnini tlie linden eclioed wide, 
 Huzza ! huzza ! 
 Hi]) I liip ! liuzza ! 
 The fiddhntj- and Uie slioutini;. 
 
 Ol.lJ PlOASAX-l', 
 
 Sir Dortor, Uiis is kind of you, 
 To tliink no scorn of us to-day; 
 And you such a grand scholar too, 
 To mix with simple folks this way ! 
 Here, take this jug, 'tis handsome ware, 
 Nor is the liquor of the worst, 
 I i)ledge you in it, with die prayer, 
 It may not only (|ueiicli your Ihirsl, 
 But that each drop wiUiin it may 
 Add to your life another day! 
 
 r'AUST. 
 
 Right gladly 1 obey your call, 
 
 And drink, widi thanks, good health t(.) all! 
 
 Tilt pciipk iiatlwr riiiiiiil luin iii a cirde. 
 
 Urn 1'i:asa,xt. 
 
 Inileed tliLs is uKjst kindly done, 
 To iniiigle in (jur mirtli to-day. 
 Ah, Sir, you stootl our friend in times, 
 When we u'ere anything hut gay. 
 There's many a hale man standing here. 
 Your lather rescued from the clutch 
 Of raging fever, when he stayed 
 The jilague that wasted us so much. 
 Though but a lad, from liouse to house 
 You sought the sick and dying tdo ; 
 
 The)' bore out man)' stark and stiff, 
 iJut nothing c\X'r ailed with you. 
 Your trials many were and sore, 
 You Liore them with a spirit brave. 
 And the great Sa\'iour of us all 
 Saxed him that lent a hand to sa\'c. 
 
 All, 
 
 Healtli to die trusty friend, and may 
 He live to hel[) us many a day ! 
 
 Facst. 
 
 To Him afnixe be homage [laid. 
 Who only counsel can, or aid ! 
 
 \\\'alks nil iiwlli WAcNt 
 
 Wao.xeii. 
 
 What must you feel, to think, illustrious man. 
 
 This crowd re\eres you with a lo\e so (lee[i' 
 
 ( )h hap[)y, wlio from his endowments can 
 
 So fair a harvest of advantage reap! 
 
 'i'he lather jioints you to his sun, 
 
 'I'he i)eople wdiis|)er, cro«'d, and run, 
 
 The fiddle stops, and lad and lass 
 
 r.reak up die dance miduay to stare, 
 
 'i'licy stand in r(.)ws for yon to pass, 
 
 'I'lieir caps lly up into the air; 
 
 Upon their knees they dropped, almost 
 
 As though it were the |iassing of the Host. 
 
 Fai:st. 
 
 Some few steps fardier, up to yonder stone! 
 Here will we rest, and taste the evening air: 
 

 1 
 
 
 FAUSr. 39 
 
 
 OfltimL's I sat liLTc, wraiit in tliought, alone, 
 
 LTis craft as by its masters plied before? 
 
 
 And racked myself with fasting ami with pra)'er. 
 
 If you, as youtli, re\ere your lather, you 
 
 
 Brimmed lull with hope, m faith unwavering, 
 
 Of course acceijt from him what he can teach; 
 
 
 By tears and sighs and beatings of the breast 
 
 If you, as man, see farther, wider too. 
 
 
 From the great Lord fif Heaven I sought to wring 
 
 A^our son in turn a higher mark may reach. 
 
 
 Cessation of that de\astating jjest. 
 
 
 
 Like mockery now rings yonder crowd's ai)|ilause. 
 
 
 
 Oh, could you look into my soul, and read, 
 
 1 
 
 
 LTow little worthy son or father was 
 
 Faust. 
 
 
 < )f such repute as they to us decreed! 
 
 
 My father was a good man, not too bright, 
 
 
 
 Who, by strange notions of his own deluded. 
 
 <J happy he, who still can hope 
 
 
 In all good faith, with patience infinite, 
 
 Out of this sea of error to arise! 
 
 
 On nature and her sacred circles brooded; 
 
 AVe long to use what lies beyond our scope. 
 
 
 Who shut himself with his adepts away 
 
 Yet cannot use even what within it lies. 
 
 
 In a laboratory, black, grim, and mystic. 
 
 But let us not, by saildening though.ts like these, 
 
 
 And fused and fused, by rule and recipe. 
 
 The blessing of this happy hour o'errun. 
 
 
 Things that by nature are antagonistic. 
 
 See, how they gleam, the green-girt cottages, 
 
 
 I'he Lion Red, bold \vooer, bolder mate. 
 
 Fired by the radiance of the evening sun ! 
 
 
 In tepid bath was to the Lily married. 
 
 It slopes, it .sets. Day wanes. On with a bound 
 
 
 And both were then Ijy o))cn fire-flame straight 
 
 It speeds, and lo ! a new world is alive! 
 
 
 From one bride-chamber to another harried. 
 
 God, for wings to lift me from the ground. 
 
 
 Thus in due time the Youthful Queen, inside 
 
 Onward, still onward after it to strive ! 
 
 
 The glass retort, in motley colours ho\-ered : 
 
 Beneath me I should see, as on I pressed. 
 
 
 This was the medicine ; the patients died. 
 
 The hushed world ever bathed in e\-ening's beams. 
 
 
 And no one thought of asking, who reco\-ered. 
 
 Ivich mountain-top on fire, each \'ale at rest. 
 
 
 So 'mongst these hills and vales our hell-broths 
 
 The silver brook flow into golden streams. 
 
 
 wrought 
 
 Nor peak nor mountain-ehasm should then defeat 
 
 
 More havoc, brought more victims to the grave. 
 
 My onward course, so godlike and .so free. 
 
 
 By many, than the jiestilence had brought. 
 
 Lo, with its bays all winking in the heat. 
 
 
 To thousands I myself the poison gave: 
 
 Bursts on my wonder-smitten eyes the sea! 
 
 
 They pined and perished ; I li\e on, to hear 
 
 But now the god appears about to sink ! 
 
 
 Their reckless murderers' praises far and near. 
 
 Fresh impulse stirs me, not to be confined. 
 I hurry on, his deathless light to drink, 
 The day before me, and die night behind, 
 The hea\"ens abo\'e me, and the waves below. 
 
 
 \VaCi\EH. 
 
 A lovely dream ! Meanwdiile, the sun his face 
 Lias hid. Ah, with the spirit's wings will no 
 Corporeal wings so readily keep pace ! 
 
 
 But why let this distress you,— why? 
 
 Yet is the yearning with us all inljorn, 
 
 
 Can any honest man do more. 
 
 Upwards and onwards to be struggling still. 
 
 
 Than conscientiously to ply 
 
 When over us we hear the lark, at morn, 
 
 
40 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 Lost 111 tliu sk)', hci' (|Ui\X'ring carol trill; 
 When" o'er the nioiintains' iiine-cktd summits drear 
 I'he eagle wheels afar on outstretcheil uing, 
 When over Hat and o\er mere 
 'J'he crane is homewards lalujurina;. 
 
 W.' 
 
 I too ha\e often liail mv whims and moods, 
 Ihit ne\"er was liy such an impulse stirred. 
 A maPi soon looks his fill at fields and woods; 
 'I'he wings I ne'er shall en\y of a bird. 
 TIow difterently the spirit's pure delights 
 ^\'aft us from hook to hook, from page to jiage! 
 'I'hey give a beauty to the winter's nights, 
 i\ cheeriiil glow that can its chill assuage. 
 And some line manuscript when you unroll. 
 Ah, then all hea\en descends into your soul! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 ' )ne only asjuratiou thou hast known, 
 
 ( )h, ne\er seek to know the other, neN'er ! 
 
 'I'wo souls, alas ! within my bosom throne, 
 
 One from the other wildly longs to sever. 
 
 ( hie, with a passionate lo\"e that ne\"er tires, 
 
 Clea\es as with cramps of steel to things of earth, 
 
 Tiie other upwards tlimugh earth's inists aspires 
 
 To kindred reginns of a loftier worth. 
 
 < )h, in the air if spirits be. 
 
 That Ihjat 'tu'ixl eardi and liea\en, and lord it there. 
 
 Then from your golden haze descend, and me 
 Far hence to fields of new existence bear ! 
 Yes, if a magic mantle were but mine. 
 To stranger lands to waft me at my call, 
 I'd prize it more than robes of costliest shine, 
 I would not change it Un a monarch's pall. 
 
 Waoxer. 
 
 The too familiar throng invoke not, who, 
 In trailing vapours sjiread upon the wind, 
 Come trooping from all quarters, wliere they brew 
 Lhmumbered plagues and perils for mankind. 
 The sharp -fanged spirits of the North, lo, they 
 Come rushing down on you with arrowy tongues; 
 Those of tlie East, they parch you dry as hay, 
 And suck a slow nutrition from your lungs. 
 If from the desert sands the South sends out 
 'I'hose that heap fire on fire around your brain. 
 The West brings those, that first refresh, no doubt, 
 but end with drowning you, and field, and plain. 
 They \\-atch our e\'ery word, on mischief bent. 
 Obey each wish, yet turn them all awry, 
 They look as if from heaven expressly sent, 
 And lisp like very angels when the)' lie. 
 But let us go! the earth is wrapt in grey; 
 The air grows chill, the mists are falling. 
 'Tis e\'ening makes us prize our homes. But, he)'! 
 ^Vh)' stare you thus, as at some sight appalling? 
 ^Vhat in the dusk there fills you with such trouble? 
 
FAl'Sr. 
 
 41 
 
 
 
 :;^v# 
 
 
 
 
 FaI ST. 
 
 Seest ihou \"'M1 Mack dog coursing through thie 
 stubble r 
 
 Wacxti;. 
 I saw liim long ago. but heeded not the least. 
 
 Fai^t. 
 Observe him well ! For what tak'st thou the beast? 
 
 WAiiNLi;. 
 
 \Vh\", tor .1 poodle, trying to hark liack 
 In doglike wise upon his ma-tcr's track. 
 
 Favst. 
 
 See how lie doth in spiral circles ni.ike 
 A circuit round us. wlieeling nigh and nigher ' 
 And al'ter him -it can be no mistake — 
 There follov>-3. as he runs, a trail of lire. 
 
42 
 
 FA [fS T. 
 
 Waoneii. 
 
 Nouglit but a coal-black potidlc can I see ; 
 It must some optical illusion be. 
 
 Fai'st. 
 
 To me it seems, that round our feet lie draws 
 Fine mayic toils to snare us, fast and faster. 
 
 AVaoxeh. 
 
 Round us he runs perplexed and shy, because 
 He sees two strangers here, and not his master. 
 
 Facst. 
 The circle narrows. He touches us almost. 
 
 WAflXEH. 
 
 'Tis a mere dog, you see, and not a ghost. 
 He growls, hangs back, lies down, begins to whine, 
 Waggles his tail — all practices canine. 
 
 Faust. 
 Here, go along with us! Come hither, come! 
 
 WAriNER. 
 
 A merry beast it is, and frolicsome. 
 Stand still, and he sits up and begs, 
 Speak to him, and he jam])s upon your legs ; 
 I^ose anythmg, he'll find it for you (|uick, 
 y\nd leap into tlie water for your stick. 
 
 Facst. 
 
 Thou'rt riglit ! I find not of a spirit here 
 One single trace : 'tis training all, that 's clear. 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 'I'he dog, if well brought up, ma)' be 
 
 F>cn for the sage good company : 
 
 Your favour, possibly your thanks. 
 
 He certainly deserves to earn ; 
 
 The students, sir, have taught him all these pranks. 
 
 Which he has shown much aptitude to learn. 
 
 I 7'//c_v /ass ill ai ilic x'a/<' <>/ Hie toKui. 
 
FA US r. 
 
 43 
 
 SCENE III.-F.ust's Sti-ly. 
 Fals-j' (cutcriiii:: with the pooi/lt-). 
 
 Mead(iw I've left, and dale and hill, 
 
 In night's deep gloom arrayed, that wakes 
 Within us, with a solemn thrill, 
 
 The mood which most of heaven partakes : 
 Each wild desire is lulled to rest, 
 
 That rent the heart, or racked the brow; 
 The love of man now fires the breast. 
 
 The love of God is kindling now. 
 
 Peace, dog, becjuiet! Your restlessness wearies ! 
 Why sniff you so at the threshold there? 
 Down, sir, behind the stove ! See, here is 
 
 The best of my cushions, to make you a lair. 
 We did not object to your coursing and leajjing, 
 It served to amuse us up tliere on the hill. 
 But if you are to remain in my keeping. 
 You must learn, like a well-mannered guest, to 
 be still. 
 
 Ah ! when within our narrow room 
 
 The friendly lamp again is lit. 
 Then from our spirit Hies the gloom, 
 
 That dulled and overshadowed it. 
 Reason begins once more to speak, 
 
 7\.nd hope again to plume her wings ; 
 After life's streams we pant, yea, seek 
 
 The very fountain whence it springs. 
 
 I' 3 
 
44 
 
 FJl^ST. 
 
 Ccasu, ilo!4", to growl ! The hrulisli sound 
 
 |ars with the liallowed tunes, tliat all 
 
 My soul at this sweet hour enthral ! 
 
 We think it not strange, when men arounil 
 
 I )eri(le the tlunys Ihey e (iui[Mehenil nol, 
 
 And all that is fairest and liest (unlenin, 
 
 h'or how should SU( h thini;s their vile natures 
 
 olVeud not: 
 Would the hountl he snarl iuL; at these, like them: 
 
 l!ut ah ! 1 feel, strive as I may, that peace 
 
 Will well forth from my bosom never more. 
 
 Yet, wherefore should Us stream so i|ULekl)' cease. 
 
 And we lie [jarclied and panting as before? 
 
 So oft have I been doomed thus low tei fall. 
 
 Yet for this want we may have com[)ensation ; 
 
 We learn to prize the supernatm-al. 
 
 And cry with yearning hearts for Kevelatiou, 
 
 Which nowhere bums more worduh' and clear, 
 
 'i'han all tlirough the New Testament. So here 
 
 I turn me to the primal te\t, elate 
 
 With a wild longing, line for line, 
 
 'l"he great original dnine 
 
 Into my owui dear (lerman to translate. 
 
 \0/^nii ///<■ vi'hiiiie, (Hii/ /'ir/'iiris 
 
 /.' a' III,'. 
 
 "In the Begiiming was the Wcu'dl" 'd'is writ. 
 
 Here on the ihiesliold I must pause, perforce; 
 
 And who will lielp me onwards iu my course? 
 
 No, by no [lossibihty is 't fit, 
 
 I should tlie naked Word su highly rate. 
 
 Some other way must I the words translate. 
 
 If by the Spirit rightly 1 be taught. 
 
 'In the Beginning was the Sense!" "I'ls wril. 
 
 The lirst line ponder well. Is il 
 
 The Sense, which is of each <reated thing 
 
 The primal cause, and regiilaling spring? 
 
 It sh(.)uld stand thus : "In the beginning was 
 
 The I''orce!" Yet even as I write, I pause.... 
 
 A sonielhing warns me, tliis will not ( onleiil me. 
 
 I,o! help is from the Spirit sent me! 
 
 1 see ill)' ^^•a\■ ; with lightning speed 
 
 The meaning Hashes on m\' sight. 
 
 And wiUi assured conx'iction thus I wiile; 
 
 "In Ihe llt'ijmning was the I'eed!" 
 
 My chamber il you wish lo share, 
 
 'i'his howling, poodle, stiaight lorbear, 
 
 This barking, and this riot! 
 
 To brook a comrade so unquiet 
 
 Is more than 1 am af)le. 
 
 Mere both of us cannot remain, 
 
 .\iid, though it goes against ui)' grain 
 
 ■j'o be inlios]iilable, 
 
 There is tlie door, and you are free 
 
 To go! but what IS this I see? 
 
 How can such transformalion be? 
 
 Is il a real thing, or throws 
 
 Some glamour ii\cr me lis spells? 
 
 How long and broad my poodle gro\\'s ! 
 
 It rises, it ililates and swells. 
 
 This IS no dog: what can it be, 
 
 This fiend, 1 have brought home with nie? 
 
 Now with his her\' e)es, and rows 
 
 ( )n rows ol horrid teeth, he shows 
 
 I. ike any liippo]iol:imiis ! 
 
 Ha! Now I know )'ou ! Is il thus? 
 
 I''(U' such hall-helbbegotten brood 
 
 The seal of Solomon is "ood. 
 
 Sniu'i's \iii llh' />ifs.ui:^i' iiiiliiiic.) 
 
 ( )ne we know well 
 Is caiiglit last within there 
 Mind what you're doing. 
 No one go 111 there ! 
 An old lyn\ of hell, 
 
FA US r. 
 
 45 
 
 Like a fox in a gin, tlicrc 
 Is (juaking and stewing. 
 Have a larc ! Have a care ' 
 Unseen, ihruugli the air, 
 Flit ye and hover, 
 To and fro, round about, 
 Now under, now over. 
 And he will get out ! 
 
 Aid him all, if aid ye rnay ! 
 He has done us ere to-day 
 Pleasures manifold and rare ! 
 Help him, then, in his despair ! 
 
 Faist. 
 
 I'o grajijile with the monster, I 
 
 The Spell Lif the Four at hrst will try. 
 
 Salamander, lie shall glow. 
 Into streams Lhidiiie How, 
 Vanish Syljili, and, Ivohold, double 
 Shall his turmoil be and trouble ! 
 
 If a man know not the lore 
 ( )f tlie J'demental Four, 
 The power of each and pro[ierty, 
 (.)f tlie world of s]>irits he 
 Never will the master be. 
 
 Hence, as ye came, in Hash and llame. 
 
 Salamander ! 
 Flow out and be seen a rushing stream, 
 
 Untline ! 
 Blaze on the air a meteor lair. 
 
 Sylph ! 
 Us with timely help Ijefriend, 
 
 Incubus ! Incubus ! 
 Come forth, come forth, and make an end! 
 
 No one of tlie Four is lodged in tlie beast. 
 'Tis plain, 1 have not touched the case. 
 Quite still he lies, and grins in my face, 
 Flis withers 1 have not wrung in the least. 
 Now shall ye hear me, whatever ye are, 
 Conjure with a spell more potent by lar. 
 
 Com'st thou liere, from hell's contine 
 A fugitive, behold this sign, 
 Holy emblem, 'neath whose power 
 All the heiids ,of darkness cower ! 
 Its bristles rise I Behold it now to monstrous 
 size dilate ! 
 Thou thing accursed and reprobate! 
 Canst thou read the holy token, 
 Ilim that never was create. 
 Him that never may be siiokeii, 
 All from sk)- to sky peixading. 
 Vilely done to death degrading? 
 
 Spellbound behind the stove il stands. 
 And like an eleplumt expands! 
 It fills the alcove up complete: 
 Into a mist 'tuill melt away. 
 Ascend not to tlie ceiling' Fay 
 'I'hyself down at the master's feel ' 
 Thou seest, I threaten not in vain. 
 I'll scorch thee up with hoi)' fire! 
 For that dread light best not remain. 
 Which burns with tlireeiold glow ! Retire, 
 Nor uait till I, thou spawn of hell, 
 Let loose on thee my mightiest spell ! 
 
 Mi;i'UisToi'inii,i:s c<nius Jor^^'ard, lU llw mist 
 SKhsldcs, ill llic Jras of a trai'cUiii,^ wludar^ 
 from I'l/iiih/ the store. 
 
46 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 MiOl'IlISTOI'IlELES 
 
 HAT is the use of all this mighty stir? 
 Can I in anything oblige you, sir? 
 
 Fatst. 
 
 So this, then, was the kernel of the brute ! 
 \ travelling scholar? Ilere 's a pleasant jest! 
 
 MErniSTOl'ELES. 
 
 Your learned worship humbly 1 salute. 
 You gave me a fine sweating, J protest. 
 
 Faist. 
 
 What IS thy name ? 
 
 Mni'ius'idpinoLEs. 
 
 Melhinks the i|Ucstion 's mean, 
 For one who hokls the Word so very cheap, 
 Who, scorning all mere semblances, has been 
 Brooding on things in their quintessence deep! 
 
 Faist. 
 
 Ot gentlemen like you one may 
 The nature mostly from the names surmise, 
 Where what ye are they all too plainly say, 
 When they "Destroyer" style you, "Flygod, 
 
 Prince of lies I" 
 Speak, then ! Who art thou ? 
 
 MEI'IIISTorilELES. 
 
 Part of the power, that still 
 Produces Good, while still devising 111. 
 

 FA US T. 
 
 47 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 JlErrilSTOPIIELES. 
 
 
 
 A rare enigma! Say what it implies. 
 
 And let me own, to very small avail. 
 That which is nothing's opposite. 
 
 
 
 MErillSTOPIlELES. 
 
 This something, this great lumbering world, alth 
 
 DUgh 
 
 
 The spirit I, that evermore denies. 
 
 r\e launched at it, with all my might, 
 
 
 
 And rightly am I thus employed, 
 
 Storm, deluge, eartlKjuake, levin-brand, 
 
 
 
 For surely nought was e'er begot, 
 
 I can't effect its overthrow ; 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 But is deserved to be destroyed; 
 
 It hangs togetlier still, good sea and land. 
 
 
 
 So were it better, things should not 
 
 And then these misbecots accurst. 
 
 
 
 ^ '^ -^^t. ^^ ^^^ '^" "^j 
 
 
 
 Be into being brought at all. 
 
 This spawn of brutes and men, alas ! 
 
 
 
 Thu.s all these matters, which you call 
 
 Defy me, let me try my worst. 
 
 
 
 Sin, Mischief, — Evil in a word, 
 
 How many have I sent to grass, 
 
 Yet young fresh blood, do what I will, 
 
 
 
 Are my congenial element. 
 
 
 1 1 
 
 
 Keeps ever circulating still. 
 
 
 
 
 In water, in the earth, in air. 
 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 In wet, dry, warm, cold, everywhere. 
 
 
 
 I heard 
 
 Germs without number are unfurled. 
 
 
 
 You call yourself a part, yet see 
 
 And Init for fire and fire alone, 
 
 
 
 You stand there whole as whole can be. 
 
 There would be nothing in the world. 
 
 
 
 k 
 
 That 1 could truly call my own. 
 
 
 
 i\[l'.l'niSTOr[lELES 
 
 Fai-st. 
 
 
 
 Truth, truth, I vow, all truth and modesty ! 
 
 
 
 
 
 So, that cold de\-irs fist of thine 
 
 
 Though man, that Microcosm of Folly, seem 
 
 
 
 
 Thou dost not scruple to oppose 
 
 
 
 A perfect whole to his own self-esteem. 
 
 
 
 Myself I, being less pretentious, call 
 
 To the unsleeping power benign. 
 
 Beneath wdiose breath all lives and grows ; 
 
 
 
 Part of the part, which at the first was all ; 
 
 It laughs to scorn your threats malign. 
 
 
 Part of the darkness, from whose womb sprang light, 
 
 
 
 Strange son of chaos, hadst thou not 
 
 
 Proud light, which now doth with its dam contest 
 
 Best start upon another tack? 
 
 
 Her ancient rank, tlie space she filled of right; 
 
 
 
 And yet it can't succeed, for, strive its best. 
 
 MeI'HISTOI'IIELES. 
 
 
 
 It cleaves to bodies, fettered to them fast : 
 
 
 
 
 It streams from bodies, makes them fair and bright; 
 
 It certainly is worth a thought ! 
 
 
 
 A body intercepts its passage, so 
 
 More about this when I come back. 
 
 
 
 I hope, when bodies come to grief at last, 
 
 But for the present have I leave, 
 
 
 
 It will with them to sheer perdition go. 
 
 Your lea\e, to take myself away ? 
 Faust 
 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Why you should ask, I can't conceive. 
 
 / 
 
 
 Your high vocation now I understand. 
 
 We're strangers from this hour no more ; 
 
 
 
 You find, you can't annihilate wholesale, 
 
 So visit me in future, pray, 
 
 
 
 So on a smaller scale you try your hand. 
 
 Just when and how the fancy strikes you. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
48 
 
 FA US r. 
 
 Here is llic window, here tlie dnor, 
 And there a (liininex', if it likes you. 
 
 Miornisroi'iii'.i.ics. 
 
 I'd very (|aiekly make my exit, 
 lUit that a tritlini;' liimh-anre eliecks it; 
 'I'he wizard's foot, — alas! 'tis true- 
 L'pon )(>ur thresliold — 
 
 KAus'r. 
 
 Ida, 'tis well ! 
 'Die I'entagram jierjilexes )'0u, 
 l!ut answer me, thou son of liell, 
 If that can Uirust )'ou backward, how 
 Contrived you to get in but now ? 
 How came a Sjjirit so astute 
 To limible into such a snare? 
 
 M|':i'Iiis'1'omU':les. 
 
 You'll fuid, if you look closel)- to't, 
 It is not drawn with proper care. 
 The outer angle 's incomj.dete. 
 You may discover at a glance. 
 The lines converge, but do not meet 
 
 Fat;st. 
 
 That was indeed a hiiky chance! 
 
 So you should Ije my prisoner, then r 
 
 Most rare good fortune, tndy ! 
 
 MeJ'IUSTOI'IIELE.S. 
 
 ^Vhen 
 The poodle bounded in, he took 
 No heed of what he was about. 
 Now^ things wear quite another look ; 
 The dexil's in, and can't get out. 
 
 Fal^st. 
 Why through the window not withdraw? 
 
 Mia'nis'oii'HioLcs. 
 
 Of fiends and goblins 'tis a law, 
 Get in liowe'er the)" [ilease, but so 
 
 y\s they came in, out they must go. 
 Free in the first clioice, in the last 
 We're very slaves ! 
 
 l-'Af.s'r. 
 
 So e\'en liell 
 Has got its legal code. 'Tis well. 
 Then with you gentlemen a fast 
 And binding contract ma)' be made? 
 
 MKniisT(>i'iu:i,i',s. 
 
 Ay, and impli<atly olieyed. 
 
 A\'hate'er is promised )'ou by us 
 
 Yi>u to the letter shall enjo)-, 
 
 Without abatement or alloy. 
 
 A theme too gra\-e this to discuss 
 
 So hurriedly; when next we meet, 
 
 We'll talk it fully out; but now 
 
 I beg, na)', earnestly entreat. 
 
 This once you 'II let me make my liow. 
 
 l''At"ST. 
 
 ( )ne moment, b)' )Our leave! I burn 
 For such rare news as yours must be. 
 
 JMi'.i'ms'i'oi'imLES. 
 
 Let me go now, I'll soon return, 
 And then ask what you Hke of me. 
 
 ]'"'adst. 
 
 Of choice, and not by my device, 
 You ran yourself into this plight. 
 Once catch the devil, hold him tight! 
 He'll scarcely let you catch him twice. 
 
 MEI'IIISTOrnELER. 
 
 Well, if you wish it, here I stay. 
 On one condition, that the while 
 I widi my sleights familiar may 
 Your moments worthily l)eguile. 
 
FA US T. 
 
 49 
 
 Faust. 
 Agreed ! you liave my leave, — but mind, 
 Your sleights are of the pleasing kind ! 
 
 MKinnSTOI'inOLKS. 
 
 Within this liour, my friend, be sure, 
 You for your senses shall procure 
 More than you heretofore have found 
 Whithin the year's unvaried round. 
 The songs my dainty spirits sing, 
 The lovely visions which they bring. 
 Are no mere empty glamour, no ! 
 Your very smell entranced shall be, 
 Your palate lapped in ecstasy. 
 Your every nerve with rapture glow. 
 No preparation here we need. 
 We're in our places, so proceed ! 
 
 Sl'HflTS. 
 
 Disappear, disappear. 
 
 Ye dark arches drear ! 
 
 Let the blue sky of hea\'en 
 
 Look down on us here. 
 
 The beautiful blue sky, 
 
 With friendliest cheer ! 
 
 Hence, clouds, begone. 
 
 That gloomily darkle I 
 
 Lo now, anon. 
 
 Little stars sparkle. 
 
 Mellower suns 
 
 Shine in on us here I 
 
 Heaven's sons, bright 
 
 Li the spirit's arraying, 
 
 In ho\ering flight 
 
 Are bending and swaying. 
 
 Souls with a passionate 
 
 Upward aspiring, 
 
 View them, pursue them, 
 
 Soaring untiring ! 
 
 And ribbons gay 
 
 Are flashing and gleaming, 
 
 Where lovers stray. 
 
 Musing and dreaming. 
 
 Stray on by gro\'e 
 
 And meadow, reipiiting 
 Love with return of lo\e. 
 Life for life plighting! 
 Bower on bower sliining ! 
 Tendrils entwining ! 
 Grapes in huge clusters 
 Piled up profuse, 
 Under the winepress 
 Spurting their juice. 
 Seething and foaming. 
 Wines gash int(j rills, 
 (.)'er tlie enamelled stones 
 Rusli from the hills. 
 Broaden to lakes, that 
 Retlecl from their sheen 
 Mountains and brakes, that 
 Are mantled in green. 
 And birds of all feather. 
 Pure rapture inhaling. 
 Sunwards are sailing, 
 Sailing together. 
 On to the isles, 
 That lie smiling and dreaming. 
 Where the bright billows 
 Are rippling and gleaming; 
 Where we see jocund bands 
 Dance on before us, 
 Over the meadow-lands 
 Shouting in chorus. 
 All in the free air 
 Every way rambling ; 
 Some up the mountains 
 Climbing and scrambling ; 
 Some o'er the lakes and seas 
 Floating and swimming. 
 Others upon the breeze 
 Flying and skimming ; 
 All to the sources 
 C)f life pressing onward. 
 Flushed by the forces. 
 That carry them sunward ; 
 On to the measureless 
 
5° 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 SiKices a1io\e them, 
 
 On wlierc the stars liless 
 
 The spirits that love them. 
 
 MeI'IIIS'I'oI'IIRI.I'.S. 
 
 He sleeps! Well done, )'e little airy sprites! 
 You've fairly lullabied his wits to sleep : 
 I'm ill )T)ur debt for these melodious sleii^hts. 
 'I'hou'rt not the man, at least, not yet, to keep 
 The devil in thy clutch. Around him play 
 With soothing visions from the realm of dream ; 
 Across his brain let wild illusions stray. 
 And fool his fancy with their meteor gleam ! 
 Ha ! tooth of rat, methinks, \\i)uld ser\e me well, 
 To break me up this threshold's spell. 
 No need of lengthened conjuration. Hark ! 
 There rustles one, my \oice will ([uickly mark ! 
 
 The master of the rals and mice, 
 ( )f flies, and frogs, and bugs, and lice, 
 Commands you straightway to a])pear, 
 And nibble at this threshold here. 
 Where now he smears it o'er with oil. 
 Ha ! Here you are ! Now, to your toil ! 
 The ])oint that kept me back lies there 
 just in the front beside the stair. 
 ( )ne nibble more, )'our task 's complcle! 
 Now, Kaustus, now dream on till next we meet. 
 
 i E.xif. 
 
 Faust (aiciTkiii^i;). 
 
 Am I again befooled? Vanish they so, 
 The throng of spirits that my fancy shaped ? 
 Was then the fiend a dream, a lying show, 
 And that a ])Oodle, which but now escaped? 
 
 -^^ 
 
ACT 11. 
 
 SCENR I.— Faust's Study. 
 
 ris I. 
 
 Faust, jrEi'iiis'j'oi'iuoLus. 
 
 Fa I ST. 
 KNOCK? Come in I Again iny quiel brukcn ? 
 
 Mi';ruisTui'iiE]ji;s. 
 
 Faust. 
 Come in ! 
 
 iMioum,sT(.ii'iii;Li';s. 
 Thrice must tlie words be spoken. 
 
 Faust. 
 Come in, tlien ! 
 
 MlOI'HlSTOl'HELES ( ( IiIlI7/I^i;) . 
 
 So ! That job 's discussed. 
 We shall be firmer friends, I trust; 
 For, to dispel your fancies grim, 
 Behokl me here, a springald trim, 
 hi jerkin red, and laced with gold, 
 A cape of stiffest silk, a bold 
 Cock-feather in my cap ; and see ! 
 A long sharp rapier to boot ! 
 Now, prithee, be advised by me. 
 And get just such another suit; 
 So, casting e\ery trammel loose. 
 You '11 learn what life is, and its use. 
 
 ./'/ 
 
52 
 
 FA US r. 
 
 Favst. 
 
 In e\ ci")- dress I'm sure to feel the dire 
 
 Constraints of earthl)' life severely: 
 
 1 am too old to trilfe merely, 
 
 Too )"oung to lie without desire. 
 
 What from the world have I to gain? 
 
 "Thou shalt refrain! Thou slialt refrain!" 
 
 This is the everlasting song, 
 
 That 's hummed and droned m e\"ery ear, 
 
 Which e\'ery hour, our whole lile long. 
 
 Is croaketl to us in cadence drear. 
 
 I wake each morning in despair. 
 
 And flitter tears could weep, to see the sun 
 
 Dawn on tlie day, that in its round will ne'er 
 
 Accomplish one poor wish of mine, not one; — 
 
 Yea, that with iroward captiousness imjiairs 
 
 Each joy, of which I've dreamt, of half its zest, 
 
 And with litre's thousand mean and paltry cares 
 
 Clogs the creations of my busy breast. 
 
 And when at evening's weary close 
 
 I lay me down in anguish on my bed, 
 
 There, e\'en there, for me is no repose, 
 
 Scared as 1 am by visions wild and dread. 
 
 The god, who in my breast abides. 
 
 Through all its depths can stir my soul, 
 
 M)' every faculty he swa}'s and guides, 
 
 Yet can he not what lies without c(jntrol. 
 
 And thus by life, as l)y a load, oppressed, 
 
 I long for death, existence I detest. 
 
 MErnisToi'idiLCs. 
 Anil yet death ne\"er is a wholly «'elcome guest! 
 
 FMS'r. 
 
 Oh hapipy he, around whose brows he winds 
 In \ ictory's glorious liour the Idood-stained bays, 
 Whom on the bosom of his girl he finds. 
 Warm from the dance's wild and matldening maze! 
 Oh had it been, 'neath that high spirit's might, 
 My fate, while tranced in bliss, in death to sink! 
 
 I\lEP[lISTOPni;LES. 
 
 \'et was there one, who on a certain night 
 A certain dark-ljrown mixture feared to drink. 
 
 Faus'I'. 
 You have a taste, it seems, for p>laying sjjy. 
 
 iMEl'lllSTOrilKLES 
 
 ( )mniscient, no ! Still few things 'sca])e my eye. 
 
 Facst. 
 
 If, when my brain was racked and reeling, 
 A sweet and old familiar chime 
 Beguiled my all of childish feeling 
 With memories of a happier time ; 
 Now do I curse whate'er doth pen 
 With wizard coil these souls of ours. 
 And chains them to this dreary den 
 With cozening and deceitful powers. 
 And chief Ije curst the proud conceit, 
 Which girds our minds as with a fence ; 
 Curst be the semblances that cheat, 
 And play and ]ialter with our sense! 
 Curst be the false and flattering dream 
 Of fame ~ a name be)'ond the grave. 
 Curst all that ours we fondly deem, 
 As wife and child, as plough and sla\e ! 
 Be Mammon curst, when he with pelf 
 hispires to deeds were else renown, 
 When he, to sot and pamper self. 
 Makes silken smooth our couch of down ! 
 On wine's balsamic juice a curse, 
 \ curse on love's ecstatic thrall, 
 A curse on hope, on faith, and worse 
 (_)n ijatience be my curse than all ! 
 
 Clionis of Invisible Spirits. 
 
 Woe, woe ! 
 
 Thou hast laid it low, 
 
 The beautiful world, 
 
F. \ US T. 
 
 With merciless l)low. 
 
 It totters, it crumbles, it tumbles abroad. 
 
 Shattered and crushed by a demigod. 
 
 We trail 
 
 'riie ruins to chaos away, 
 
 And wail 
 
 The beauty that's lost, well-a-day! 
 
 Of the children of clay 
 
 Thou mighty one, thou. 
 
 Fairer, more glorious, now 
 
 Build it once more. 
 
 Within thine own bosom build it up ! Here 
 
 A new life-career 
 
 With ([uickencd sense 
 
 Commence ! 
 
 And songs, unheard before. 
 
 Shall chime upon thine ear! 
 
 MEi'iiisToriniLES. 
 
 These my tiny spirits be. 
 
 Hark, wilh what sagacity 
 
 They advise thee to pursue 
 
 Action, pleasure ever new ! 
 
 (Jut into the world so fair 
 
 They would lure and lead thee hence, 
 
 From this lonely chamber, where 
 
 Stagnate life and soul and sense. 
 
 No longer trifle with the wretchedness, 
 
 Tliat, like a vulture, gnaws your life away! 
 
 The worst society will teach you this. 
 
 You are a man 'mongst men, and feel as they. 
 
 Yet 'tis not meant, I pray you, see. 
 
 To thrust )-ou 'mong the rabble rout; — 
 
 I'm none of your great folks, no doubt, 
 
 But if, in fellowship with me. 
 
 To range through life you are content, 
 
 I will most cheerfully consent 
 
 To be your own upon the spot. 
 
 I am your chum. You'd rather not? 
 
 Well! If your scruples it will save, 
 
 I am your servant, yea, your slave ! 
 
 And in return what must I do f(jr you? 
 
 Mr.i'iiis'i'oi'iiF.i.Ks. 
 <Jli, time enough to talk of that ! 
 
 Faist. 
 
 Nay, nay ! 
 
 'I'he devil's selfisli — is and was alway — 
 And is not like for mere God's sake to do 
 A liberal turn to any child of clay. 
 Out with tlie terms, and plainly! Sucli as thou 
 Are dangerous servants in a house, I trow. 
 
 MicrnisToi'UKLKS. 
 
 I bind myself to serve you here, — to do 
 ^'i)ur bidding promptly, whatsoe'er it Ije, 
 And, when we come together yonder, you 
 Are tlien to clo the same for me. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 I prize that )onder at a rush ! 
 Only this world to atoms crush. 
 And then that other may arise ! 
 From earth my every pleasure flows. 
 Yon Sun looks down upon my woes, 
 Let me but part myself from those. 
 Then come what may, in any guise ! 
 To idle prate I'll close mine ears. 
 If we hereafter hate or love, 
 Or if there be in yonder spheres. 
 As here, an Under and Above ! 
 
 MeI'HISToI'HELIOS. 
 
 You 're in the proper mood to venture ! Bind 
 Yourself, and pleasure in my sleights you'll find. 
 While this life lasts. I'll give you more. 
 Than eye of man hath ever seen before. 
 
54 
 
 I'.irsT. 
 
 W'IkU »ilt tlidU l;i\c, thou siirr)' tlevil: W'litii 
 
 Were the aspiriiiL; suuls of men 
 
 Fathomed by stuh a tliiiiy as thee r 
 
 Ob, thou hast food tliat satisl'ietb never, 
 
 Cokl, ruihb' Ljohl thou hast, that restlessly 
 
 Sbjis, like (juieksilver, through tlie hand lor ever ; 
 
 A game, where we must losers be; 
 
 A yn'l, that, on m\' \er)' breast. 
 
 My neiyhbour wo(js with smile and wink; 
 
 Fame's rapturous llash of godlike zest. 
 
 That, meteor-like, is doomed to sink. 
 
 Show me the fruit tlial, ere'tis plucked, doth rot. 
 
 And trees that ever}' da)' grow green anew ! 
 
 jMia'iiis'i'diina^ES. 
 
 Such task as this aflVights me not. 
 
 I have such treastn'es at command for you 
 
 Uut, my good friend, the time draws nigh, 
 When we may bampiet on the best in peace! 
 
 F.vrsr. 
 
 If e'er at peace on sluggard's couch I lie, 
 Fhen ma)' in)- life upon the instant cease ! 
 Cheat thou me ever by thy glozing wile. 
 So that I cease to scorn m)'self, or e'er 
 My senses N\'ith a perfect jo)' beguile. 
 Then be that day mv' last! 1 olTcr fair, 
 How say'st thou ? 
 
 INha'nis'iorma.ns. 
 Done ! 
 
 F'Acs'r. 
 
 INlv hand npon il! 'I'liere! 
 If to the passing moment e'er 1 say, 
 "Oh linger )'ct ! thou art so fair!" 
 Then cast nie into chains yon may. 
 Then will 1 die without a care ! 
 'I'heii ma\' the death-bell sound its call, 
 'I'lun art thou from thy service free, 
 'I'he clock ma) stanil, the index fall. 
 And time and tide may cease for me ! 
 
 Mi:riiis'roi'iiFa,i;s. 
 Think well ; we slunrt forget the terms )'ou name. 
 
 ._J 
 
FA I 'S T. 
 
 Fau^jt. 
 
 \Vjur perfect rigln I rnubt allow. 
 
 Xot rashly to the pai.t I came. 
 
 I am a slave as I am now ; 
 
 Voiirs or another's, 'tis to me the same ! 
 
 A[i;riii>Tiii'iiF.Lr;s. 
 
 Then at the Doctors' feast this vcr\- day 
 Will I rnv post, as )'our attendant, take. 
 Just one thing more! To guanl against mistake, 
 OMige me with a line or two, I pray. 
 
 T.vrsT. 
 
 Pedant, must thou ha\e writing too? 
 
 Hast thou no true rnan, or man's promise known": 
 
 Is not my word of moutli enough for \-ou. 
 
 To pledge my da\'s for all eternit)- r 
 
 Does not the uni\-erse go ra\ing on, 
 
 In all its ever-eddying currents, free 
 
 To pass from change to change, and I alone, 
 
 Shall a mere promise curh or tetter me r 
 
 Vet doth man's heart so hug the dear deceit, 
 
 Wlio would its hold v.ith'.'Lit a pang undo? 
 
 Blest he, whose soul is with pure truth replete, 
 
 No sacrifice shall e\er make him rue. 
 
 But, oil, yonr stamped and scribbled parchment 
 
 sheet 
 A spectre is, which all men shrink to \iew. 
 The word dies ere it ipn'ts the pen. 
 And wax and sheep-skin lord it then. 
 What would you ha\e, s|iirit of ill ! 
 Brass, marl)le, parchment, paper? — Say, 
 Am I to write with pen, or .style, or graver? 
 I care not — choose whiche'er you will. 
 
 Mi:pnisTcirnELEs. 
 
 Why tltrow' your eloquence away. 
 Or give it such a very pungent savour? 
 Pshaw! Any scrap will do — 'tis r|uite tlie same — 
 With the least drop of blood just sign your name. 
 
 F.MSl. 
 
 If that will make \ou happ\-, why, a idaim 
 So \'ery whimsical I'll freely fa\'ciur. 
 
 Mci'UI-Tlil'IIKLES. 
 
 Blood is a juice nf c|nite peculiar kind. 
 
 F.vr.sT. 
 
 Fear not that 1 the compact will e\"ade ! 
 
 Vl\ lit'e's whole struggle, heart and mind. 
 
 Chimes with the [iromise I ha\e made. 
 
 Too high l'\"e soared - too proudly dreamt, 
 
 I'm only peer for such as thee ; 
 
 Tile >.Iiglit\- Sjiirit spurns me with ( ()ntem[it, 
 
 .And Nature \eils her face from me. 
 
 Thought's chain is snapt ; — for many a day 
 
 I've loathed all knowdedge ever)" way. 
 
 So ijuemdi we now our passicnis' fires 
 
 In Sense and sensual dehL;hts, 
 
 L'n\"eil all hidden niagic sleights, 
 
 To minister ti> our desires ! 
 
 Ixt us plunge in the l>uTentof time, and range 
 
 Through the weltering ( haos of chance and change, 
 
 Tlien pleasure and pain, disaster ami gain. 
 
 May (-Ourse one another adown m_\" brain. 
 
 Change and excitement nia\" work as the\" lan, 
 
 Rest there is none for the spiiii ^A man. 
 
 jMi.i'Ui.-'i'Miiia.Ks. 
 
 To )'0u is set nor goal nor stint. 
 If \-on 'd sip tile sweetest <if everything. 
 And hawk at pleasure ui)on the wing. 
 Much joy, I'm sure, I wish you in't. 
 (Jnlv fall to, and don't be co). 
 
 F'.WST. 
 
 .Again I say, my thouuhts are not ol joy. 
 I devote myself to the wliirl and roar, 
 
56 
 
 FA ['ST. 
 
 To the Miss that tlivobs with a pulse like pain, 
 To the hate that we dote on ami t'omlle u'ev, 
 The defeat that inspirits bolh nerves and lnain. 
 (Jl" Its jiassion for knowledge cured, ni\" soul 
 Heneet'orth shall ex|iaiKl to all lorms of woe, 
 And all that is all human natinx-'s dole 
 In ni\' heart oi hearts 1 shall feel and know ; 
 With highest, lowest, in spirit I shall cope. 
 Pile on ni)- breast their io\'s, their i^riets, their 
 
 rares, 
 So all men's souls shall come within m)' scojie, 
 And mine at last go down a wreck like theirs. 
 
 I\[t:iMNs'r(M'Uia.i-.s. 
 Oh, trust to me, who ha\e through many a \ear 
 On this tough morsel chewed the cud, 
 That from the cradle to the bier 
 No man cf mortal Hesh and lilood 
 Ilath e'er digested the old lea\'en. 
 Trust one of us, this whole so \'ast 
 Is only for the God of Hea\en ! 
 In everlasting radiame He is glasseil, 
 Us hath He into outer darkness cast. 
 And you, \'ou mortals, onl)' may 
 See day succeetl to night, ami night to day. 
 
 F.\rsT. 
 Nay, but I will. 
 
 MEi'ms'rorniii.i'.s. 
 
 That's well enough to sa)'; 
 Onl\' I don't (|uite see m)' way. 
 Art's long, time .short. Vou 'd Liest |iermit 
 Voin-self to be advised a bit. 
 Clul) with a poet ; soaring free, 
 Let him the realm of fancy sweep. 
 And ever}' noble (piality 
 Upon your honoured lorehead heap ; 
 The lion's magnanimity, 
 The fleetness of the hincl, 
 The tiery blood of Italy, 
 'J'he Nortliern'.s constant mind. 
 Let him for y(ju the art divine, 
 Lligh aims with c unnnig to ( ombine. 
 And, with )'Oung blood at fe\er full. 
 
 1 To love on s\stem and In' rule. 
 
 i A gentleman of such a kind 
 
 I shoukl m\self be glad to llnd. 
 And, 'sooth, b\' me so r.ire a wight 
 Should be Sir Microcosnius hight. 
 
 Fyisr. 
 Wh.il am 1, then, if ne\er b\' no art 
 The crown of mortal nature may be gained. 
 For which our e\ery energ\" is strained? 
 
 i\li;i'nis'roi'ni;i.i;s. 
 Thou art, when all's done, what thou art. 
 A periwig ivith ciumtless rmgk'ts bu\'. 
 Array thy feet in sotks a cubit high, 
 .Still, still thou wilt remain just what thou art. 
 
 K.Ms'r. 
 "Tis true, I feel I In \ ain ha\e I amassed 
 Within me all the treasures of man's mmd, 
 j\nil when I [lause, and sit me down at last. 
 No new power welling inwardi)' I fuid ; 
 A hau'breadth is not added to m\ height, 
 I am no nearer to the Infinite. 
 
 Mici'iiisriij'iiEi.ics. 
 Good sir, you \'iew these matters just 
 As any common mortal would; 
 But take a higher strain we must. 
 Nor let lit'e's jo)'s our grasp elude. 
 Why, what the deuce! Sure, foot ami hand. 
 And blood and brain are yours I And what 
 I can enjoy, coiitrol, command. 
 Is it the less my own for that? 
 If I for horses six can pa)'. 
 Their powers are added to my store ; 
 A proper man I dash awa)-. 
 As though I had legs twenty-four. 
 L'p then, no more a dreamer be. 
 But forth into the world with me ! 
 I tell you \\'hat ; )'otir speculating wretch 
 Is like a beast upon a barren waste, 
 Round, ever round, by an ill spirit chased, 
 Whilst all about him fair green |.>astures stretch. 
 
FAUST. 
 
 57 
 
 But how bea-in : 
 
 MEI'lIISTiirilEIJOS. 
 
 We start at once. 
 Ugh ! w hat a place of torture dire ! 
 Call you this life — yourself to tire, 
 And some few youngsters, each a dunce ? 
 Leave that to neighbour Paunch to do. 
 Why plague \ourself witli threshing straw 
 What's best of all tliat's known to )'0u, 
 \'ou dare not tell these striplings raw. 
 I hear one now upon the stair. 
 
 Fai'st 
 
 cannot see him. 
 
 Mlil'lIISTOrilELKS. 
 
 Long and late. 
 Poor boy, he's waited. In despair 
 We must not send him from the gate. 
 Give me your cap and gown : t'ne mask, 
 \'ou'll see, will fit me to a hair. 
 
 \C/iaii,iiis /lis iItl'ss. 
 
 Now leave all to my wit. I ask 
 
 But fifteen minutes. Go now ! There ! 
 
 And for our pleasant trip prepare. [Jixit F.irsT. 
 
 MEi'iiisTornKLF.s ypiittiii:^ on Faust's ,^'v>?iV/1. 
 
 Only scorn reason, knowledge, all tliat can 
 
 Give strength, or might, or dignity to man, 
 
 And let thyself be only more and more 
 
 Besotted by the spirit of lies 
 
 With faith in necromantic lore. 
 
 Its shams, delusions, sorceries, 
 
 And thou art mine beyond recall 1 — 
 
 Fate to this man a soul has given. 
 
 That brooks not to be held in thrall. 
 
 But onward e\ermore is driven, 
 
 And, on its own mad fancies bent, 
 
 jn earth's delights finds no content. 
 
 Him will I drag through all the fires 
 
 Of passions, appetites, desires, 
 
 Through all the dull unmeaning round 
 
 Of man and woman, sight and sound. 
 
 Oh, he shall sprawl, be stunned, stick fast 
 
 In sheer bewilderment at last. 
 
 His longings infinite to whet. 
 
 Dainties and drink shall dance before 
 
 His fevered lips ; nor shall he get 
 
 Tlie peace he'll pray for evermore. 
 
 Here and hereafter such as he 
 
 Are marked for doom ; and even although 
 
 He had not sold himself to me. 
 
 He must perforce have come to woe. 
 
 Enter a Student. 
 
 H 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 SS FAUSr. 
 
 
 
 
 S'l'lUlENT. 
 
 S'I'i:iii:nt. 
 
 
 
 
 To town quite rcccntl)' 1 came, 
 
 Upon her neck I'll hang with joy; the wa)' 
 
 
 
 
 And make it, sir, ni)- earliest care 
 
 To clamber there, do you, sir, only say. 
 
 
 
 
 'I'd see and talk with one, \vliose name 
 
 
 
 
 
 Is named with reverence everywhere. 
 
 Mioi'iiis'roi'iiioLi'.s. 
 Ere you go further, sa\-, on which 
 
 
 
 
 Ml' I'Mis'i'i ii'nia.Ks 
 
 Of all the faculties your fancies iiitch. 
 
 
 
 
 You're too polite ! A man \'ou see, 
 TJke scores f)f other men, in me. 
 
 S'rriiioN'r 
 
 
 
 
 Elsewhere have you not found )'Our way? 
 
 Sir, my amliition is to be 
 
 A scholar widely read and sound. 
 
 
 
 
 S'l'lUll'.N'l'. 
 
 All things on earth, in heaven, or sea, 
 
 
 
 
 Take me in hand, oli do, sir, pray ! 
 I've every wish, nay have, in truth, 
 A very passion, to he tauLjht, 
 
 To grasp with comprehensn e \ lew. 
 In short, to master all the round 
 Of science and of nature too. 
 
 
 
 
 Some money, too, and healtli and )'out]i ; 
 
 Mi-a'iiis'roi'iini.i'.s. 
 
 
 
 
 My motlier scarcely coulfl he hrouLjht 
 To part with me; lint come I would. 
 To learn whate'er 'tis best 1 should. 
 
 \'ou're on the right track; onl)' don'l 
 (let scatter brained in the |iiirsuit. 
 
 S'l'iiiiioN'r. 
 
 
 
 
 Mi'.iinsToi'ni',i,F.s. 
 
 Oh never fear, sir- — that 1 won't. 
 
 
 
 
 If such be really the case. 
 
 liody and soul I'll buckle to't. 
 
 
 
 
 Vou'\'e Clime to just the proper (ilace. 
 
 ^'et should I like upon occasion 
 Some freedom, some small rela.xation, 
 
 
 ! 
 
 
 Stuiiknt. 
 
 When skies are bright, and fields are gay, 
 
 
 
 
 Yet 1, the honest truth to say. 
 
 lI|)on a summer's holiday. 
 
 
 
 
 Already wish myself away ! 
 
 
 
 
 
 These walls and lecture-rooms 1 fmd 
 
 Mia'iiis'i'onmi.i-.s. 
 
 
 
 
 Ijy no means of a [ileasant kind. 
 
 Use well your time, so fast it flies ; 
 
 
 
 
 All is so close, so cramped, so mean. 
 
 Vet Method teaches, in what wise 
 
 
 
 
 No trees, nor anythinj,' that's green, — 
 
 Of time itself you may make iiri/.e. 
 
 
 
 
 Mewed up in them, my spirits sink ; 
 
 And, first and foremost to that end. 
 
 
 
 
 1 neither hear, nor see, nor think. 
 
 I counsel you, my dear young friend, 
 A course of Logic to attend. 
 
 
 
 
 MiaaiisToi'iiKMOs. 
 
 Your mind will then be so well braced, 
 
 
 
 
 Habit alone cures that. Just so 
 
 In Spanish boots so tightly laced. 
 
 
 
 
 The child at first will not, you know, 
 
 That henceforth, b)' discretion taught. 
 
 
 
 
 Take kindly to its mother's fireast. 
 
 'Twill creep along the [lath of thought. 
 
 
 
 
 fjut soon it suckles there with zest. 
 
 And not, wilh all the winds that blow. 
 
 
 
 
 Even thus at wisdom's breast will you 
 
 Go Will-o'-\Vis|)ing to and fro. 
 
 
 
 
 Each da\- hiid pleasure e\er new. 
 
 Then many a good day will lie spent 
 
 
 
 ■ ■ 1 
 
FA US r. 
 
 59 
 
 111 leaching, that tlic things you used 
 To knock off at a .stroke, with just 
 y\s little thought or pains, as went 
 To eating or to drinking, must 
 Be by First ! Second ! 'J'hird ! produced. 
 The web of thought, we may assume. 
 Is hke some triumph of the loom. 
 Where one small simple treddle starts 
 A thousand threads to motion, — where 
 The Hying shuttle shoot.s and darts. 
 Now over here, now under there. 
 
 \V'e look, but see not how, so fast 
 
 Thread blends with thread, and twuies, and mi.\es, 
 
 When lo ! one single stroke at last 
 
 The thousand combinations lixes ; 
 
 In steps me then Philosophy, and proves, 
 
 That, being set hi certain grooves. 
 
 Things which have passed before your eyes 
 
 Could by no chance be otherwise. 
 
 The First was so, the Second so. 
 
 Ergo the Third and Fourth ensued ; 
 
 But given no First nor Second, no 
 
 Third, yea, nor Fourth had been (jr could. 
 
 Scholars in matters of this kind 
 
 Are everywhere [irofound believers. 
 
 Yet none of them, that 1 can find. 
 
 Have signalized themselves as weavers. 
 
 Fie that would study and portray 
 
 A living creature, thinks it fit 
 
 To start with finding (jut the way 
 
 To drive I he spirit out of it. 
 
 This done, he holds within his hand 
 
 The pieces to be named and stated. 
 
 But, ah ! the spirit-tie, that spanned 
 
 And knit them, has evaporated. 
 
 This process chemic science pleases 
 
 To call Natura; Encheiresis, 
 
 And, in the \ery doing so, it 
 
 Makes of itself a mock, and does not know it. 
 
 Student. 
 I don't entirely comprehend. 
 
 j\Ii;i'ni.s'i()i'in;i.i;s. 
 
 In that respect you'll ([uickly rnenrl, 
 When once )'ou learn, with true insight 
 To classify all things aright, 
 
 S'lTlilON'l'. 
 
 I'm so per|]|exed with what _\-ini'\'e said. 
 That just for all the wurld I feel, 
 As if Slime clattering mill-wheel 
 ^\'ere turning, turning in my head. 
 
 Mia'nis'iiii'uiajcs. 
 
 Before all other studies ynu 
 Must Metaphysics next pursue. 
 There see, that you profuiuidl)' scan 
 What ne'er was meant for brain of man ; 
 Be thought or no thouglit in )-our head, 
 Fine phrases there will do instead! 
 And mind, that this half-', ear in all 
 You do you're most methodical. 
 Five hours of lecture daily ; so 
 Be in your seat right to the minute ! 
 Prepare the subject, ere you go. 
 Be thoroughly well read uii in it. 
 Thus see, that the jirofessor's stating 
 No more than all the textbooks show; 
 ^'et still write down each word, as though 
 I-Ie were the Holy Ghost dictating. 
 
 StitiE.m'. 
 
 No need to say that to me twice. 
 
 I see 'tis excellent advice ; 
 
 For we take h.ome, and stud)', (piite 
 
 At ease, what's down in hiack and white. 
 
 Mlil'lILSTOl'MICLES. 
 
 But choose some Faculty. 
 
 Student. 
 
 At die mere name 
 
 Of lurisprudence I rebel. 
 
 H2 
 
6o 
 
 FATSr. 
 
 MKrmsi'iiriii:Li;.<. 
 
 In that, 1 own, you're not so niucli to blame, 
 
 For what that science is, 1 know full well. 
 
 Laws are transmitted, as one sees, 
 
 (ust like inherited disease. 
 
 They're handed down from race to race. 
 
 And noiseless glide from place to place. 
 
 Reason the\' turn to nonsense ; worse. 
 
 They make benelicence a curse ! 
 
 Ah me ! That you're a grandson you. 
 
 As long as you're alive, shall rue. 
 
 The law, which is within us placed 
 
 At birth, unhappily about 
 
 7'/i(!f law there's never any doubt. 
 
 SlLllEN'r. 
 
 Your words have heightened my distaste. 
 
 ( )h fortunate the man, whom )'0U 
 
 Vouchsafe to give instruction to I 
 
 I almost think, Theology 
 
 Would be the study best for me. 
 
 Mi:i-iris'i'(iriu;Li';s. 
 
 I shoidd not wish, friend, to mislead you ; 
 
 Yet in that branch of lore, indeed, you 
 
 Will find it liard to keep away 
 
 From paths, that carr)' far astray. 
 
 In it so much hid [loison lies, 
 
 Which you may fail to recognize. 
 
 Nay, will most probably confound 
 
 W ith the true medicine around. 
 
 But here again one rule is clear ; 
 
 To one, and but one guide, give ear, 
 
 Take all his words as gospel in, 
 
 And swear by them through thick and thin. 
 
 As a broad principle, hold on 
 
 By words, words, words ! So you, anon, 
 
 Through their unfailing doors the fane 
 
 Of perfect certainty will gain. 
 
 S'lUDE.N'l'. 
 
 But surely, sir, a meaning slioukl 
 In words be always understood? 
 
 MErnisTi>iina,Es. 
 
 No doubt, no doubt! Yet 'twere absurd, 
 
 Ujion that point to leel too nuich loncern ; 
 
 Since just where meaning fails, a \\ord 
 
 Comes patly in to serve \our turn. 
 
 Words, my young friend, — why, nothing suits 
 
 So well as matter for disputes ; 
 
 ^Vith words )'our systems you can weave in. 
 
 Words are such fine things to belic\e in. 
 
 And from a \\()rd no jot or tittle 
 
 Can be abstracted, much or little. 
 
 StUDE.N'I'. 
 
 I fear my numerous ipiestions tease you ; 
 Yet once more I must trouble you. 
 (.)n Medicine 1 would tain, so ]ilease you. 
 Receive a pregnant word or two. 
 Three years, they slip away so fast, 
 And, heavens ! the field is quite too vast. 
 Still with a hint a man may hope 
 His way with more success to grojie. 
 
 jMi;rnisTormci,Es (as/'iA-). 
 
 This prosing bores me. 1 must (ilay 
 The devil now in my own way. 
 [A/iu/if.] AVell, any simpleton may seize 
 The soul of Medicine with ease — 
 You simply study through and through 
 The world of man and nature too, 
 To end with leaving things to God, 
 To make or mar them. 'Tis in vain. 
 That you go mooning all abroad. 
 Picking up science grain by grain : 
 Each man learns only what he can. 
 But he that has the gift and power. 
 To profit by the passing hour. 
 
He is your proper man ! 
 
 You're not ill built, — will, I conceive. 
 
 Show mettle on occasion due ; — 
 
 If you but in yourself believe, 
 
 Others will then believe in you. 
 
 Especially be sure to find 
 
 The way to manage the womenkind. 
 
 Their e\ erlasling ( )hs ! and Ahs ! 
 
 Of this be sure, 
 
 Whate'er their fashion or their cause, 
 
 All from one point admit of cure. 
 
 With air respectful and demure 
 
 Apjiroach as they advance, and, mum ! 
 
 You have them all beneath your thumb. 
 
 But a degree must first instil 
 
 Con\'iction in them, that your skill 
 
 Surpasses otlier people's ; then 
 
 At once they make you fi'ee of all 
 
 Those tete-a-tete endearments small. 
 
 Years scarce secure for other men : 
 
 The little pulse adroitly squeeze, 
 
 With looks on fire with passion seize. 
 
 And boldly clasp the tapering waist. 
 
 To see if it lie tightly laced. 
 
 S'rUDIiNT. 
 
 Oh, that is much more in my way! 
 One sees at least the where and how. 
 
 Mi;i'illSTlil'IlELE.-<. 
 
 Dear friend, all theory is gray. 
 And green life's golden tree. 
 
 Stimien'!'. 
 
 I vow, 
 I'm like one in a dream. Might 1 
 Intrude on you some other time, to hear 
 Your wisdom make the grounds of all this clear: 
 
 ]MEi'ni,<T()i'iu;LEs. 
 So far as I can ser\e you, I will try. 
 
 S'niHE.NT. 
 
 I cannot tear myself away, 
 
 Let me before )'0U, sir, my album lay ; 
 
 Some small memorial of your fa\our, pray r 
 
 MEi'ni.-<TornELEs. 
 With all my heart. ylVri/cs and i-eturns the hook. 
 
 StuiiEiN'T {reads) — 
 
 ,.,l ~{' 
 
 I Closes if reverentially, and retires. 
 
62 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 l\li;L']iiS']'()i'nci,i:s. 
 Take for your law the ancient saw, and 
 
 that 
 
 cousin of mine, tb.e snake, 
 And, with that hkencss of yours to God, your 
 heart is Hke to break. 
 
 b'ArsT ((jitci/iix). 
 And now wliere sliall we go r 
 
 Mnriiis'j'oi'nnLUs. 
 
 Vou '\e but to name 
 What pku eyou choose, — to me 'tis quite tlie same. 
 Sn[ipose we see the small folk first. 
 And then upon tlie great ones burst. 
 With what deliglit, what jjrofit, too, 
 You'll re\el the pleasant circuit through! 
 
 Fai's'i'. 
 
 Ijut with my long beard can I face 
 Society ? I want the grace. 
 The easy, smooth, and imlished air, 
 That of a man 's expected tliere. 
 Nor could I learn it, if I -A'ould. 
 Adapt myself I ne\er could 
 
 'I'd what the world demands of all. 
 And in a crowd I feel so small, 
 'Tis certain I shall always be 
 Embarrassed when in com[)any. 
 
 ]\'lni'ins'i'oi'iMoijns. 
 
 All that will come in time. Be self-possessed! 
 In that one word is life's whole art expressed. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 bjut how are we to travel: Where 
 Are horses, servants, carriage, [iray ? 
 
 Mioi'msTornionns. 
 
 'J'his cloak out so we've but to lay. 
 And 'twill transport us through the air. 
 bi this bold trip, no need to cumber 
 \'ourself with luggage and such liunber, 
 A little gas, which I've at hand, 
 Will waft us straight o'er sea and land. 
 And, as we travel lightly, t(jo, 
 ( )n at a rattling pace we'll spin. 
 I wish you joy, friend, of the new 
 Career of life you now begin. 
 
FA US T. 
 
 SCENE TI. — A i.'F.Kp. Acri's CEr,LAR at LEirzir;. 
 
 // Drinkiii:^ Parly cf Jlooii CcDipaiiiivis 
 
 1 1 o^l II 
 
 III iio1)od) drink' Is tlieiL iilvli i ii)ke, 
 AmnnL, ) ou <ir hit ot fun to pnkt 
 7\t other times you can blaze away ; 
 But, egad ! you 're all like damp straw to-day. 
 
 BliAXDER. 
 
 Your fault ! You do nothing to make us jolly, 
 No beastliness, no stupid folly. 
 
 Ft>m)8C:ii {J?ii!,i;s a ,5'/(7.f.f f/ 7('///i' at I/is Iicail). 
 There's both for you! 
 
 BliANLIEK. 
 
 Brute ! Beast ! 
 
 Fiioscii. 
 
 You sought it. 
 My lad of wax, and now you 've caught it ! 
 
 SiBllEL. 
 
 Any fellow that quarrels, kick him out ! 
 
 Come, clear your throats, boys, swill and shout! 
 
 Hip, hip, huzza ! 
 
64 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 Altmaver. 
 
 I'm lost ! ( )h dear ! 
 Some cotton! This rowdy splits my ear! 
 
 SiKllF.I.. 
 
 Until the \aults with the eclio reel, 
 The strength of the bass you never feel. 
 
 FliOSCII. 
 
 Right ! Those that don't like it needn't sta\' ! 
 All, tara, lara, da ! 
 
 Althayek. 
 Ah, tara, lara, da ! 
 
 Fiaisi II 
 Our throats are tuned up, so fire away ! 
 
 (.S'/V/.V^.l 
 
 The dear old Roman Em))ire, how 
 Does it manage to hang together? 
 
 A fdthy song! A |jolitii al song! Fie, fie! 
 
 A most offensive song, say I. 
 
 Thank God each niorniug you have not 
 
 To care for that same Roman Empire got. 
 
 1 hold it a thing to be grateful for. 
 
 That I'm neither Kaiser nor Chancellor. 
 
 Still, we should have a chief, and may, I hope 
 
 We will, we .shall, we must elect a Pope ! 
 
 I need not tell you, for you're all aware. 
 
 What qualities weigh lieaviest there. 
 
 And lift a man into the chair. 
 
 FiMJScii (shi^i^s). 
 
 Fly awa)', fly away. Lady Nightingale, 
 Over the mountain, and over the dale ! 
 Fly to my sweetheart out over the sea. 
 And greet her a thousand times from me. 
 
 SlEDRL. 
 
 No greetings, ho, to sweetings ! 'Tis exceedingly 
 improper ! 
 
 FliORCII. 
 
 I will greet her, kiss her, treat her ! You shan't 
 put on me a stopper ! 
 
 Undo the bolts at dead of night, 
 And let the lad that lo\es you in. 
 But in the gra\ of the morning light 
 Bar him without, and yourself within ! 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 Sing on ! Our ears with lier perfections din ! 
 My time will come to laugh, when you look blue. 
 She led me a fool's dance, and so she will lead you. 
 I'd give her for a lover a hobgoblin. 
 To toy with her on cross-roads in the dark ; 
 An old buck-goat, back from the Blocksberg 
 
 hobbling, 
 Might tickle her up in piassing for a lark ! 
 The blood and bone of any stout young blade 
 Are much too good for such an arrant jade. 
 No, no, the only greeting I will hear of 
 Is smashing all the gipsy's windows clear off. 
 
 Bii.ANliEU {s/ri/;i/i,i; the tali I c.) 
 Silence ! Silence ! To me give ear ! 
 You'll all admit that 1 know^ what's what. 
 We have some love-sick spoonies here. 
 And I must treat them to something pat. 
 And like to enliven their doleful cheer. 
 < )f the very last fashion is my strain ; 
 Full chorus, mind, for the refrain ! 
 
 Once in a cellar there lived a rat, ; 
 
 His paunch it grew a thunipjer, 
 For he lived on nothing hut butter and fat. 
 
 Not Luther's self was plumper. 
 The cook laid poison for him one day. 
 And he fell into a terrible way. 
 
 As if love's tortures twinged him ! 
 
FA US T. 
 
 6S 
 
 CiTORITS. 
 
 As if love's tortures twinged hira ! 
 
 Bi;aniiei!. 
 
 And lie ran out, and round about, 
 
 And he could not think what ailed Jiim, 
 
 And he scratched, and clawed, and nibhled, anil 
 gnawed. 
 But his fury nought availed him ; 
 
 He felt the i)ain shoot from head to foot, 
 
 'Twas soon all up with him, poor liriite, 
 As if love's tortures twinged him ! 
 
 Cnomis. 
 As if love's tortures twinged him ! 
 
 Bkanukk. 
 
 In pain, in dismay, in broad noonday, 
 
 He dashed into the kitchen. 
 Fell down on the hearth, and there he lay, 
 
 Convulsed with a woeful twitching ; 
 But the cook she laughed, when his pain she spied, 
 "Ha! ha! He's at his last gasp!" she cried. 
 
 As if love's tortures twinged him ! 
 
 ClIOKUS. 
 
 As if love's tortures twinged him ! 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 How easy it is to tickle flats ! 
 To lay down poison for poor rats 
 Is wit of such a spicy flavour ! 
 
 Brandek. 
 No doubt they stand high in your favour. 
 
 AL'rMAVEIt. 
 
 Fatguts is down in his luck, — 'tis that, 
 Makes him soft-liearted and dejected ; 
 Poor devil, he sees in the bloated rat 
 The image of himself reflected. 
 
 £///!-/■ Faust (///(/ Mei'iiistcifiieles. 
 
 MeI'UISTOI'HEEES. 
 
 Before all things f must firing )'ou to 
 
 A circle of jolly dogs, that you 
 
 May see how lightly life can sit. 
 
 Every day is a feast with such 
 
 Hard-drinking fellows as lliese. With much 
 
 Self-satisfaction and little wit. 
 
 Day after day, they may all be found. 
 
 Spinning along the same narrow round, 
 
 I_jike a young kitten pursuing its tail. 
 
 So long as their heads don't ache or ail. 
 
 And with mine host they can score their way, 
 
 No care, or misgiving at all have they. 
 
 Brander. 
 
 Strangers, and just arrived, that 's clear. 
 Their cut and deportment are so queer ! 
 Not been an hour in town, I'll swear. 
 
 Friiscu. 
 
 For once you're right, old fellow, there. 
 Leipzig for ever ! 'Tis Paris in small ! 
 It gives us a style, sir, a style to us all. 
 
 SlEBEE. 
 
 For what do you these strangers take? 
 
 Fkoscii. 
 
 Just leave them to me. In a brace of shakes 
 Out of these fellov« I'll worm the truth. 
 As easy as draw you a young child's tooth. 
 Noblemen I should say they w^ere, 
 They've such a haughty dissatisfied air. 
 
 Brandee. 
 Mountebanks ! That 's about their le\'el ! 
 
 Perhaps ! 
 
 AltiMAyi:r. 
 
 Froscii. 
 I'll trot them. Pray you, note ! 
 

 
 
 
 
 66 FAirST. 
 
 
 
 Mki'Iiistoi'Iiulf.s {/i> Faiist"!. 
 
 MEriiisToruKnRS. 
 
 
 
 These scum would ue\er surmise tlie ilevil, 
 
 Did we not hear — I can't be wrong — 
 
 
 
 AlUiough he had them l)y the throat! 
 
 Well-practised voices chanting chorus ? 
 No doubt, the vaulted ceiling o'er us 
 
 
 
 FAirsT. 
 
 Must echo rarely to a song. 
 
 
 
 Your servant, sirs ! 
 
 Fuoscn. 
 
 
 
 SlEIlF.I,. 
 
 You are a connoisseur of some ]iretence ? 
 
 
 
 The same to you ! 
 
 
 
 
 \,ls/i/i; looking- askant c a/ MuriiisTDriucuvS 
 
 Mei-H1ST01'UCI,KS. 
 
 
 
 Lim|is on one foot? So (jueerl)', too! 
 
 Oh no! My powers are weak, my love immense. 
 
 
 
 Mr.rnisToruni.ES. 
 
 Al/rMAYIOR. 
 
 
 
 Beside you have we leave our chairs to set? 
 
 Tip us a slave ! 
 
 
 
 Instead of good drink, then, which here we cannot 
 
 MEi'iiisidi'imnES. 
 
 
 
 get, 
 We shall have your L,'ood i ompany for cheer. 
 
 A score, if you incline. 
 SnuiEE. 
 
 
 
 AL'|■MAYI■■.I^. 
 
 Brand new, then, let it be, some jolly strain ! 
 
 
 
 ^'ou 're mighty hard to please, it would appear! 
 
 MEi'ni,sTi:ii'in''.LEs. 
 
 
 
 Fiioscii. 
 
 We have (|uite recently returned from Spain, 
 
 
 
 Just fresh from Rippach, ain't )du? i dare say, 
 
 That beauteous land of song and wine. 
 
 
 
 You supped, now, with S(iuire Hans, upon the 
 
 
 
 
 way ? 
 
 (Sh,,i;s.) 
 
 
 
 Mi:i'UiSToi"Ui.:iJOK. 
 
 i\ king there was, be 't noted. 
 Who had a lusty flea. 
 
 
 
 To-day we galloped past his door; 
 
 
 
 
 But had much talk with him, the time before, 
 
 Fll(lS(!ll. 
 
 
 
 About his cousins here ; and he presents 
 
 Mark him, a Ilea! You take the jest? 
 
 
 
 Til each of yon through us his special compliments. 
 
 Now, by my faith, a royal guest ! 
 
 
 
 \ /{('TC'/z/i; tuicu'irih Fiioscu. 
 
 MEI'niSTolMU'UjES (.W/.(,'.f). 
 
 
 
 Ai.TMAYicn (as/ilr). 
 
 A king there was, be 't noted. 
 
 
 
 TIkU's liome ! A knowing dog! 
 
 Who had a lusty flea. 
 And on this Hea he doated, 
 
 
 
 SiKiii-:!.. 
 
 And loved him tenderly. 
 
 
 
 A biting wit ! 
 
 A message to the tailor goes, 
 Swift came the man of stitches ; 
 
 
 
 Fi:o.s('n. 
 
 "Ho, measure the yoimgster here for clothes, 
 
 
 
 I'll serve him out, you'll see. Just wait a bit! 
 
 And measure him for breeches!" 
 
 
 
 1 
 

 - 
 
 1 
 
 
 FAUST. 0^ 
 
 
 Bkandeu. 
 
 Ar/]M.\YEU. 
 
 
 Mind you impress on Snip to take 
 
 Huzzali for freedom! Hii/zah Un wine! 
 
 
 Especial care about the tit, 
 
 
 
 And, as he loves his head, to make 
 
 MKPJUs'i(ii'in:i,i;s. 
 
 
 The breeches without wrinkles sit. 
 
 To pledge a bumper glass to Ireedom, f'd jjc glad, 
 Were not this wine of yours so execrably bad. 
 
 
 MEi'HisToi'nEiJos [n'siimes his soii,i;). 
 
 
 
 
 In silk and satin of the best 
 
 SlEBEE. 
 
 
 
 Soon was the flea arrayed there, 
 
 Let's hear no more of tliat. Sir Superfme ! 
 
 
 
 Ribbons had he upon his breast. 
 
 
 
 
 I>ikewise a star displayed there ; 
 
 ]\lEri]IS']HI'HELES. 
 
 
 
 Prime minister anon he grew. 
 
 But that our liost were apt to be offended. 
 
 
 
 With star of huge dimensions. 
 
 I'd give these worthy fellows here 
 
 
 
 And his kindred, male and female too. 
 
 From our own cellar something splendid ! 
 
 
 
 Got titles, rank, and pensions. 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 
 
 And lords and ladies, high and fair, 
 
 I'll make that square, so never fear. 
 
 
 
 Were grievously tormented ; 
 
 
 
 Sore bitten the queen and her maidens were. 
 
 Fkoscu. 
 
 
 But they did not dare resent it. 
 
 Make good your words, and you're a trumi:>. The 
 
 
 They even were afraid to scratch, 
 
 sample. 
 
 
 Howe'er our friends might rack them. 
 
 I charge you, though, to make it ample. 
 
 
 But we without a scruple catch, 
 
 For, if I have to judge of ti]iple, I 
 
 
 
 And when we catch, we crack them. 
 
 Must have a good niouth.ful to judge it by. 
 
 
 
 Cnonus. 
 
 Al,TMAVB)! UlS/i/e'). 
 
 
 
 But we without a scruple catch. 
 
 Soho ! They're from the Rhine, I see. 
 
 
 
 And when we catch, we crack them. 
 
 
 
 
 
 MEl'UISTl_irilEHiS. j 
 
 
 Frioson. 
 
 A gimlet here? 
 
 
 
 Bravo ! First-rate ! 
 
 
 
 
 
 BnAXIlER. 
 
 
 SlElUOI.. 
 
 1 
 
 For what, now, can that be ? 
 
 
 So perish all 
 
 You can't have got the hogsheads at the door? 
 
 The race of Heas, both great and small. 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 Al'I^LVYER 
 
 
 BifANUEU. 
 
 The landlord's tool-chest's yonder on the lioor. 
 
 
 Catch me them daintily on the hip 
 
 MErmsTCii'LUiLES (tirkiii,i;' the i^iiidet^ to Fnoscn). 
 
 
 Between the nail and the finger-tip! 
 
 Now say, for which you have a mind ? 
 
 
 . ^ __ . 1 
 
 I2 
 
68 
 
 FAl'Sr. 
 
 Fiiosm. 
 \V'liat ! Have you them of every kind? 
 
 MErillSTdl'IllOLES. 
 
 Name each liis choiee, strong, s])arkliny, old, or 
 lieady ? 
 
 Altjiayku (/<' Fiioscii'l. 
 Alia ! your lips are watering already. 
 
 FkiiSI'II. 
 
 Let it be Rhenish, if I may command. 
 For best of cheer Fll back old F'atherland. 
 
 Mr;i'niST<]i'nF,iJiS (/'.vv'//^'' a hole in the cih^c nj the 
 
 tal'lc, icltci'c FijoMcii is sittiiix'\. 
 A little wax to sto[i the hole ! Quick, (juick ! 
 
 Al'I'JIAVKR [to I'^liOSc'll). 
 
 Pshaw, this is paljxibly a juggler's trick ! 
 
 MEPIllSTol'llliLES (til BkAjN1ii;k). 
 
 And you? 
 
 BKANbER. 
 
 Champagne, champagne for me. 
 Creaming and sparkling i heerily ! 
 
 [Mi-n'riiSTciriiEhEs linres • )iicainoliilc one of 
 t/ie flirty lias iiiihle stoppers of 7i'(/a', 
 ami stoppej the holes. 
 
 IhtANlJlOl!. 
 
 ( )ne can't always [uit foreign gear aside; 
 For good tilings we have often far to go. 
 Frenchmen no real (jernian can abide, 
 He drinks tljeir wines without a scruple, tli(jugh. 
 
 Suvr.EE [as MEi'ms'niriiEi.r.s approaehes hiiii). 
 The sour, I own, I can't away with; 
 Pure sweet, Fd like a glass of that. 
 
 MEi'UisTorjiEEES {bores). 
 You shall, sir, have Tokay to play with. 
 
 Ae'I'iMAYEK. 
 
 No, no, sir, no ! 1 tell you what : 
 You're making game, )0U are, of us. 
 
 Mei'Uisto1'MI':eI';,s. 
 That were somewhat too venturous 
 \Vith men of mark like you. You doubt it? 
 Quick ! 'JVT me without more ado. 
 What wine 1 am to serve for you? 
 
 Ae'I'.mai Ei:. 
 Any! So that you don't stand haggling hing about itl 
 \.\fte}- all the holes have lee/i loreil, anil 
 stoppers fi/t into them. 
 
 Mioi'iiis'i'di'MEEES (loith stranie^e ^estn/es.) 
 
 \Vine-gra|)es of the \iiie are born, 
 lYont of he-goat sprouts with horn, . 
 Wine is juice, and vine-stocks wood, 
 Wuoden hoard yields wine as good ! 
 Here is truth for him that sees 
 bito nature's mysteries ; 
 jMiracles when you receive, 
 \'ou have only to lieheve ! 
 
 Now draw ^our stoppers, and fall to ! 
 
FA US r. 
 
 69 
 
 All {as they drmv the stoppers, and the wine each 
 
 Jias selected runs into his xiass). 
 Oh fountain, beautiful to view ! 
 
 MurinsTdi'iiKLEs. 
 Be very careful ! Drink your fill, 
 But see, that not a drop you spill ! 
 
 [Thev drink repeatedly. 
 
 All [sing). 
 As savagely jolly are we, 
 
 As any five hundred porkers ! 
 
 MeI'ULSTOPHELLS. 
 
 These sots from all restraint are freed. 
 And so are blest, and blest indeed. 
 
 Faust. 
 I'm sick of this, and would be gone. 
 
 Mefhistopheles. 
 Only a little moment stay ; 
 You'll see a glorious display 
 Of what mere beasts they are, anon. 
 
 SiiciiEL [drinks carelessly; wine is spilt on the ground 
 
 and turns into Jlanie). 
 Help ! Hell 's broke loose ! ^Ve all are shent ! 
 
 MEruiSTOPUELiiS (adjuring the fiaine). 
 Be quiet, kindly element ! (. /'<? the topers. 
 
 This time 'twas nothing but a tiny spark 
 Of purgatorial fire, not worth remark ! 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 Just wait, and your cock's comb I'll mar. 
 You do not know, it strikes me, who we are. 
 
 Fkoscu. 
 His tricks a second time just let him try. 
 
 Al/raLW'ETI. 
 
 Let's send him to the right-about, say I. 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 Confound you, coming to provoke us 
 With playing off your hocus-pocus ! 
 
 MEI'HISTOl'lUiLICS. 
 
 Silence, old vat ! 
 
 SlEBIOL. 
 
 You broomstick, you ! 
 And so you'd fain be saucy, too ? 
 
 Bkandek. 
 Wait, and I'll thrash you black and blue. 
 
 Altmayek (draw's a stopper from the table; pre 
 
 shoots out toiuards hiui). 
 I burn ! I'm all on fire ! 
 
 SlEBICL. 
 
 The wizard I 
 Down with hun ! Stick him through the gizzard! 
 {Tliex draw their knives, and make a rusli 
 at MErnis'j'(.ipnELES. 
 
 Mej'Iiis'J'OPJIeles [ywitli sidenin ^esliculatiousK 
 
 Voices, that delude the ear, 
 Forms, that mock the eye, ai)pear ! 
 Let the distant seem the near, 
 Be ye there and be ye here ! 
 yTliex stand amazed and stare at each other. 
 
 Al'I'ILVIEE. 
 
 Where am I ? What a lovely land ! 
 
 Fkoscu. 
 Vineyards ! How strange ! 
 
 SlELSEL. 
 
 And grapes that court tlie hand ! 
 
 Branliek. 
 
 Here, under these green leaves by me. 
 See, what a stem ! What branches, see ! 
 
 [Seizes SiEBEL by the nose. The rest do the 
 
 same ivitJi each other, and brandish 
 
 their knives. 
 
70 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 Mi':i'iiis'i'(iniKi,i:s {yiii lulorc). 
 
 l'li;inliiins ul dclusitiii, rise, 
 l.iri the Liandagc tVoui Ihcir eyes! 
 Ami take note, \e swinish soaks, 
 111 wlial wise the devil jokes ! 
 
 //(■ Jisappctiis -n'ifli 1''aiis'L'. The lifi: 
 rciii/Z I ri'iii I'/ir iiiiolhci'. 
 
 What s this : 
 
 Sii-a;i':i,. 
 
 Ai;i'.MA\iaf. 
 I low's this ? 
 
 Fiaiseii. 
 
 Was that your nose? 
 
 iJKA.NiiFa; (/(' SjiaaiL). 
 ( >ii yours, too, see, my lingers close! 
 
 Altma"! la:. 
 
 It sent a sIkk k tlirough all my limbs! 
 A chair ! I'm falling ! My head swims ! 
 
 Fiaiscii. 
 
 What ails )'()ii all ':" 
 
 SlEIJEL 
 
 Where is he? Where? 
 Let me but catch the knave, he dies, 1 swear. 
 
 AL■|■MA^ Ki:. 
 
 Out of the ( ellar-cloor, astride 
 yV huge wine-tun, 1 saw him ride. 
 I feel like lead about the feet. 
 
 j 'l)/iiii/ix /i>?i'nr(/s llic laltlc. 
 Zounds! Should the wine be running yet! 
 
 SlUliEl^. 
 
 'Twas all a sham, a trick, a cheat ! 
 
 Fuiiscii. 
 Yet, that it was wine, I would bet. 
 
 BllA.NllBU. 
 
 But how about the grapes ? 
 
 AlTMAVEI!. 
 
 Well, after that, 
 Uoubt miracles who may, 1 won't, that 's Hat. 
 
FA US T. 
 
 71 
 
 SCENE III. — WiTCiiRs' Kitchen. 
 A /a/x£ caldron siispcriJcd ahove tlic pre upon a I(>K' 
 licartli. Tliroiti^/i the fumes that asceni/ from 
 it various figures are visible. A female ape sits 
 beside tlie ealdrou skimmini^ it, and ■joateliiu:^ 
 that it does not boil over. The male ape with 
 the YOuni( ones sits near Iter, and warms him- 
 self. If^a/ls and eeiling are deeorated icith 
 witches furniture of the most fantastic kind. 
 
 Faust, MErmsToi'iiBLES. 
 
 Faust. 
 I loathe this wizard rubbish. You maintain, 
 That in this chaos of a crazy brain 
 I shall my wasted strength repair? 
 Take counsel of an aged hag? Oh, shame! 
 Can the foul mess, that simmers there, 
 Strike thirty winters from my frame? 
 If you know nothing better, I despair ! 
 Already do I feel, to hope were vain. 
 Hath nature, hath some soul of noble strain. 
 Discovered no elixir anywhere? 
 
 MEI'lHSTorUEEF.S. 
 
 Now with your old sagacity you speak ! 
 There is a natural recipe for youth ; but you 
 For that must in anotlier volume seek, 
 And there it makes a striking cliaptur, loo ! 
 
 Faust. 
 What is its nature? Tell me, what? 
 
 Mephistottieli-.s. 
 
 Look you ! A remedy, to be got 
 
 Sans sorcery, gold, or meilicine. 
 
 Hence to the fields at once ! Begin 
 
 To hack and delve with might and main, 
 
 Yourself and your desires confine 
 
 Within the very narrowest line. 
 
 On simple food yourself sustain, 
 
 With beasts live as a beast, and think it nolaliore, 
 
 Yourself to dung the field you are lo reap. 
 
 This, trust me, is the best of ways to keei^ 
 
 The fire of youth within you to loinscore. 
 
-. 1 
 
 7 2 FAl 
 
 ^ST. 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Al'F.S. 
 
 
 I am not used to toil, and 'tis too late to force 
 
 We just have time to warm our paws, 
 
 Myself t(i wielil the- spade. A life so bare, 
 
 And nothing more, while she's away. 
 
 So crami)ed, would dn'\e nie to despair. 
 
 
 
 
 Meimhstophelf.s (to k'Aus-r). 
 
 
 Miorius'i'oi'iiKi.ics. 
 
 How like you them, the dainty brutes ? 
 
 
 'I'lien rs the witili oar sole resource. 
 
 1''.'\IIST. 
 
 
 F.vrsT. 
 
 Such loathsome creatures have I never seen. 
 
 
 lUit \vh)' tliis beldame? Cannot you 
 
 
 
 Without her aid the potion brew? 
 
 MlOFIIlS'l'oniFLlOS. 
 
 
 MF.rurs'roi'nErF.s. 
 
 Nay, nay ! A chat like this, I ween. 
 
 
 That were fine waste of time. Go to ! 
 
 Is just the thing that best my fancy suits ! 
 
 {To tlic Apes. 
 Tell me, ye whelps accurst, what you 
 Are stirring there at su( h a rate? 
 
 
 Rather would I a thousand bridges Iniild, 
 \Vithin the time 'twould take to brew it. 
 No matter how you may be skilled, 
 
 
 You must give tireless patience to it. 
 A quiet spirit works at it for years ; 
 
 Apes. 
 
 
 Time, only time, the fermentation clears, 
 
 Coarse beggar's broth we boil and stew. 
 
 
 And concentrates its subtle force. 
 
 
 
 All the ingredients of the stew 
 
 MEl'IllS'l'nlMlELFS. 
 
 
 Are wondrous in their kind, and source. 
 The devil taught the uitch, 'tis true, 
 
 Your custom for it will be great. 
 
 
 But, make it, that he cannot do. 
 
 
 
 [Ti/nihix' ti' tJic Apes. 
 
 The 1Ie-Ai'E (upproao/i/ni^- aiiJ finviiiii!^ i/poii 
 
 
 A handsome brood as ever was ! 
 
 MEPUlSTorUEEEs). 
 
 
 This is the lad, and this the lass. 
 
 {To the Apes. 
 The dame is not at home, it seems ? 
 
 Tarry not, but in a trice, 
 Shake the box, and Hing the dice! 
 I am poor, so let me win ; 
 Poverty is such a sin ; 
 
 
 Tmo Ai'ES. 
 
 But, if money once I had, 
 
 
 She takes her 'roirse 
 
 Who would say, that I was mad? 
 
 
 Outside the house. 
 
 
 
 \}\\ b) the chimne)' among the beams. 
 
 Mei'UIS'i-oi'Iiei.ios. 
 
 
 MEi'Uis'roi'iiELios, 
 
 How hajipy, wjw, it wcjiild the monkey make. 
 If in the lottery he might only stake ! 
 
 
 And how long is she apt to stay. 
 
 (I'lic yoiiiii:: Apos.^ liiho Inwe iiicainvliilc been plav- 
 
 
 When she is out for such a lause? 
 
 iiv^ loith a In IXC glolir., roll it fonoarJs. 
 
 
 
FA US T. 
 
 73 
 
 Thk He-Apk. 
 
 This is the world, 
 
 Evermore twirled 
 
 Round about, round about. 
 
 Destined to bound about ! 
 
 Mounting and sinking, 
 
 I^ike crystal clinking ; 
 
 Smashing like winking 
 
 Certain to follow ! 
 
 All within hollow. 
 
 Here 'tis all o'er briglit, 
 
 Here even more bright ! 
 
 So jolly am I ! 
 
 Out of the way. 
 
 Old boy! Touch it not! 
 
 You're booked, you must die ! 
 
 'Tis nothing but clay, 
 
 And that goes to pot ! 
 
 Mepiiistopiikles. 
 For what is the sieve here ? 
 
 He-Ape t/aArs it dow)!). 
 
 Came you to thieve here, 
 
 Straight 'twould show me why you came. 
 
 \Ruiis to t/ie S he- Ape, ami makes lier 
 look tliroiii^h it. 
 Through the sieve look, look ! Dost thou 
 Recognize the thief, and now 
 Art afraid to name his name? 
 
 Mepiiistopiieles (approaches the fire). 
 And this pot? 
 
 The Apes {Male and Female^. 
 
 The crack-brained sot, 
 He knows not the pot. 
 He knows not the kettle ! 
 
 Mepiiistopiiele.s. 
 Unmannerly brute I 
 
 The He-Ape. 
 
 Look ye now, put 
 
 This whisk in your hand, and sit down on the 
 settle, 
 
 [Fiirces Mepihstopheles to sit dow//. 
 
 Faust (7c>ho has, ///eai/whilc, been standing before a 
 i//irror, //ow advaz/eii/g towa/'ds, and i/o/o rct/r- 
 i/ig^ from if). 
 What form divine is this, that seems to live 
 Within the magic glass before mine eyes ! 
 Oh love, to me thy swiftest pinion give, 
 And waft me to the region where she lies ! 
 Oh, if I stir beyond this spot, and dare 
 Advance to scan it with a nearer ga/,e. 
 The vision fades and dies as in a haze. 
 A woman's form beyond e.xpression fair ! 
 Can woman be so fair? Or must I deem, 
 In this recumbent form I see revealed 
 The quintessence of all that heaven can yield ? 
 On earth can aught be found of beauty so supreme? 
 
 Mephistopiikees. 
 Why, when a God works hard for six whole days. 
 And when his task is over, says, "Bravo!" 
 That he should turn out sometliing to amaze, 
 Is nothing more than natural, you know. 
 Gaze on your fill! As choice a treasure 
 My power for you can soon provide ; 
 And happy he beyond all measure. 
 Who has the luck to bear home such a bride ! 
 [Faust coi/tin/tes to gaze into the v/irror. 
 Mephistoi'heles, lo/it/ging o// the settle 
 and playing loitl/ the wl/isk, eontin//es : — 
 Here like a king upon my throne I sit. 
 My sceptre here! My crown, though, where is it? 
 
 The Apes (yiid/o /ip to this time have been iiidi/lgi//g 
 in all so/is of fantastic gambols, bring Mepihs- 
 topheles a croK'/i with lo/id acclan/ations). 
 
 O, deign, with a flood 
 Of sweat and of blood. 
 
74 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 The crown to belime ! 
 
 \77ii'Y luDuUc llir (roa'ii aick;i'artll\\ and 
 break it 'inti> tici< pieces, a'ith a-/iie/i 
 tliex ildiiee roiiiul and yoitiid. 
 
 'Tis done! He! He! 
 
 We speak and we see, 
 
 We hear and we rhyme. 
 
 1''aust {t'efore tlic niirrof). 
 ^Voe's me ! As though I sliould go mad, I feel ! 
 
 lMEi'ii]sT(.)i'nEij:s {pt'iii/i/ix /(> l/ie Apes). 
 Why, e\en ni)- head, too, begins to reel. 
 
 The Apes. 
 
 And if we make a luck)- hit, 
 And if the words fall in and lit. 
 Thought's begot, and \A-ith the jingle 
 Seems to interwea\'e and mingle. 
 
 Favst {as hcforc\. 
 
 My breast is all on fire! Let us away! 
 E\cn now 'tis for my peace too late. 
 
 Mei'Jiistoi'heles (siill in tlie same position^. 
 
 Well, every one must own, that they 
 Are candid poets, at any rate. 
 
 The caldron, 7idiic/i tlie Slic-Apc has neglected 
 
 in the interim, I' e gins to boil over; a great 
 
 flame shoots out and rnshes up the c/iimnev. 
 
 T/ic Wri'cii comes s/iooting doion the c/iiin- 
 
 ney Ik it/i a /wrrible s/irieh. 
 
 'I'uE Wi'rcH. 
 Au! Au ! An! An! 
 Confounded beast ! Accursed sow ! 
 Neglecting the caldron and singeing your dame, 
 
 you 
 Beast accursed, I'll brain )'ou, I'll lame you! 
 
 [Espying I'aust a/id MEi'niST(ji'TiEEES. 
 What do I see here ? 
 Who may you be here ? 
 What do )'nu seek here? 
 How did you sneak here ? 
 
 May fire-pangs fierce 
 
 Your marrow pierce ! 
 \She dips the skimming ladle into the caldron, 
 ami sprinkles flames on Faust , Mei'Iiisto- 
 ruEEES, and the Apes. Tlie Apes lohiinper. 
 
 Mioi'iiis-]'Oi'nEEES [inverting the 7ohisk , ivliich he 
 holds in his hand, and laying about witli it 
 among tlie glasses and peds). 
 
 To smash ! To smash, 
 
 With all your trash ! 
 
 There goes your stew, 
 
 There goes your glass ! 
 
 You see, we too 
 
 Our jest can pass ! 
 
 You carrion, we 
 
 Can match your feat ! 
 
 Good time, you see, 
 
 To your tune we beat ! 
 [As the Witch recoils full of rage and amazement. 
 Dost thou recognize nie now ^ 
 Scarecrow ! Atomy ! Dost thou 
 Recognize thy lord and master? 
 What holds my hand, that I should not blast her? 
 Her and her monkey-sprites together? 
 Is all respect within thee dead 
 For me and for my doublet red? 
 Dost recognize not the cock's feather? 
 Have I so masked my face? My name 
 Must I on the house-tops proclaim ? 
 
 The Witch. 
 Master, forgive my rough salute ! 
 But yet I see no cloven foot : 
 And where may your two ravens be ? 
 
 Me1'HIST(H'[IKLES. 
 
 For this time that apology 
 
 May pass ; for 'tis, I can't forget, 
 
 A long while now, since last we met. 
 
 Besides, the march of intellect, 
 
 Which into shape, as time runs on. 
 
 Is licking all the world, upon 
 
 The devil's self has had effect. 
 
FA US r. 
 
 75 
 
 The northern goblin no more shocks the sense ; 
 Horns, tails, and claws, are things you never see ; 
 As for the foot, with which I can't dispense, 
 That with society might injure me ; 
 And therefore I for many years 
 Have, like young buckish cavaliers. 
 Among the upper circles gadded. 
 With calves most curiously padded. 
 
 Tiui WiTcn (i/it/w/)/,!^'). 
 I feel as if I were mad with sheer 
 Delight to see once more Uan Satan here ! 
 
 Mei-histoi'iieles. 
 Woman, that name offends my ear ! 
 
 The Wrrcji. 
 Wherefore? What wrong has it done you? 
 
 Mei'iiistophbles. 
 
 Tut ! 
 
 It has been written down, for many a day. 
 With other things that men call fables ; but 
 No whit the better off for that are they. 
 The Wicked One they certainly ignore, 
 But Wicked Ones are numerous as before. 
 If name I must have, call me Baron ! That 
 Will do, although the title's somewhat flat. 
 A squire of quite as high degree 
 Am I, as any squire can be. 
 My gentle blood you doubt not ; there 
 Is the escutcheon that I bear. 
 
 \Makes ail obscene gesture. 
 
 The Witch [laitg/is imiiiodcratelv). 
 Ha ! Ha ! That 's just like you ! So clever ! 
 Always the same mad wag as ever. 
 
 Mei'histoi'heees (/(' Faust). 
 Mark this, my friend ! Whate'er the hitch is. 
 This is the way to deal with witches. 
 
 The WiTcn. 
 Now, gentlemen, what is't you seek? 
 
 MEI'inST(]PHELES. 
 
 A bumper of your famous brew, 
 Your oldest, though, I must bespeak ; 
 Years doubly efficacious make it. 
 
 The Witch. 
 Riglit gladly ! Here 's a flask ! I take it 
 Myself at times in little sips ; 
 All trace of stink has left it, too. 
 I'll give it cheerfully to you. 
 
 \Aside f(i MeimiistuI'HEEEs. 
 But him there, if it touch his lips. 
 Unless he 's seasoned 'gainst its power. 
 You know, he cannot live an hour. 
 
 MEI'HISTOi'lIELES. 
 
 Oh, he is an especial friend, 
 
 'Tis just the thing to serve his end. 
 
 The best your kitchen can produce 
 
 I do not grudge him for his use. 
 
 So draw your circle, and unroll 
 
 Your spells, and hand him out a brimming howl ! 
 [T/ic WiTcu, loitli ■it'cirJ gesfi/res, draios a 
 circle, and places inarvclliuis things i^'itliin 
 it; nicajiadiilc the glasses In gin to ring, the 
 caldron to sound and make ninsic. Last 
 of all slie fetches a great book, places llie 
 Apes witlun the circle, lohere site makes 
 them serve as a reading-desk, and tiold tlie 
 torches. Site beckons 1'\\i:st to approach. 
 
 Faust yto MEruis'i'Di'UELios. 
 What is all this to end m, say ? 
 These mad paraphernalia. 
 These gestures antl distortions frantic, 
 This mess of juggle and of antic, 
 I know them all too well ot old, 
 And in profound aversion hold. 
 
 MEi'ni.sT(_iriiELi';s. 
 All humbug ! stuff' to laugh at merely ! 
 But do not take things too severeU' ! 
 Being a doctor in her way, 
 She must some hocus-pocus play, 
 
 K2 
 

 _ 
 
 
 76 FAUST. 
 
 
 In order that on you her juice 
 
 Believe that thouglit an entrance finds 
 
 
 May the desired effect produce. 
 
 Into tlie things they call their rninds. 
 
 
 1 He forces Faust to enter tlie circle. 
 
 
 Tiiio WiTijii [Ki'ifh ^i^rcaf emphasis ih'chiims from 
 
 The VViTcn (continues). 
 
 
 Iter l<ook). 
 
 Science is light ! 
 
 
 This must ye ken ! 
 
 But from the siglit 
 
 
 From one make ten, 
 
 Of all the world 'tis hidden. 
 
 
 Drop two, and then 
 
 Who seeks it not. 
 
 
 Make three square, whicli 
 
 To him 'tis brought. 
 
 
 Win make you rich ; 
 
 Unnoticed and unbidden. 
 
 
 Skip o'er the four ! 
 From five and six, — 
 
 Faust. 
 
 
 In that the trick 's, — 
 
 What is this nonsense she is spouting ? 
 
 
 Make seven and eight. 
 
 My head will split anon. I seem to hear 
 
 
 And all is straiglit ; 
 
 A hundred thousand maniacs shoutiny 
 
 
 And nine is one. 
 
 Their lunacies full chorus in mine ear. 
 
 
 And ten is none. 
 
 MEfEIISTolMIELES. 
 
 
 This is the witch's One Time's One ! 
 
 Enough ! Enough ! most admirable Sybil ! 
 
 
 Falst. 
 
 Dispense thy drink, and, mind, no paltry dribble ! 
 
 
 The beldame's babble seems as it 
 
 Fill up the cup, ay, fill it to the brim ! 
 
 
 Were ravings of a fever fit. 
 
 My friend is safe, 'twill do no harm to him. 
 
 
 MEPniS'KJPnELBS. 
 
 He's taken honours 'mongst us, ay, and quaffed 
 
 
 Oh, there's a deal more yet to follow. 
 
 Full many a deep and most potential draught. 
 
 
 And just as solid, and as hollow ; 
 
 [The WiTcn witii many ceremonies pours the 
 
 
 The whole book clinks the self-same chime. 
 
 drink into a goblet. As Faust raises it to 
 
 
 I know it well ; and much good time 
 
 his lips, a Mm of flame shoots out from it. 
 
 
 Have I lost o'er it, good and serious. 
 
 
 
 For downriglit contradiction pulls 
 
 '~~1?>^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 As hard on wise men's brains, as fools' ! 
 
 f^^^^^^^^^^m 
 
 
 And unto both remains alike mysterious. 
 
 ' r> . ^^^^^^^^^^Iii> 
 
 
 The trick's botli old and new. The way 
 
 ^^^^^^^W|^^^^^pt^'i 
 
 
 At all times was, as 'tis to-day. 
 
 '^^^^^E^^K^^^^^i 
 
 By three and one, and one and three, | 
 
 ' , iJ^^H^P^^^^^^^^^pBp^gm 
 
 
 To i)reach up lies as simple sooth. 
 
 ' »^^^KJ3^^^^HI 
 
 
 And sow broadcast by land and sea 
 
 j^^^^^^y ^^-M^m 
 
 Delusions in the place of truth. 
 
 ^P^^&I^V' l^l^w^ 
 
 So men talk on the nonsense, they 
 
 ^y^W^V'Wi \ \ /V^Mi ' 
 
 Have ground into thcni in the schools ; 
 
 ^^^^Mifi 
 
 And no one cares to say them nay. 
 
 For who'd perplex himself with fools? 
 
 ^HI^^H^^^K^^'^^m 1 
 
 Men, for the most part, when they hear 
 
 ^m^^^^^^sm 
 
 Words smite with vigour on their ear, 
 
 
 
FAUST. 
 
 77 
 
 The Witch. 
 Off with it ! Leave no drop above ! 
 'Twill warm the cockles of your heart ! 
 What ! with the devil hand and glove, 
 And yet at flame recoil and start? 
 
 i T/i£ Witch dissolves the ch-cle. Faust steps out. 
 
 Mefhistdphelbs. 
 Now, forth at once! To rest would mar all quite! 
 
 The Witch. 
 Your little drop will do you good, I trust. 
 
 MErillSTOPHELES (to tllC WlTCll). 
 
 And, if in aught I can oblige you, just 
 Remind me of it on Walpurgis Night. 
 
 The Witch. 
 
 Here is a song ! If you at times 
 Will sing it, you will find the rhymes 
 Produce upon you an effect 
 More singular than you expect. 
 
 MEriiisToruEi.Es {to Faustj. 
 Come ! Come ! Be guided for your good ! 
 'Tis indispensable you should 
 Perspire, tliat so its influence may 
 Tlirough all your vitals find its way. 
 Hereafter I will teach you, how to prize 
 That prime distinction of noblesse. 
 Sheer lounging, listless idleness ; 
 And soon you'll feel, witli sweet surprise. 
 How Cupid gambols in the breast. 
 And flits and flutters there with exquisite unrest. 
 
 Faust. 
 One glance into the mirror there ! 
 That woman's form was all too fair! 
 
 MeI'HIST(jI'IIELES. 
 
 Nay, nay ! Thou shalt ere long behold 
 
 The paragon of womankind. 
 
 In feature perfect, and in mould. 
 
 Warm, living, ay, and loving to your mind. 
 
 \AsiJc. 
 With this draught in his body, he 
 In every wench a Helena will see. 
 
78 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 SCENE IV.~-Sti(i:i;t. 
 
 Faust, Makcaket (^passiu,^; (//(Wv). 
 
 Fai/s'i-. 
 
 My pretty lady, permit me, do, 
 My escort and arm to offer you ! 
 
 Margaket. 
 
 I'm neither a lady, nor pretty, and so 
 Can home without an escort go. 
 
 [Breaks (ni'iiy from Iiiiii and exit. 
 
 Faus'I'. 
 
 By heaven, this girl is lox'elv I Ne'er 
 Have I seen anything so fair. 
 She is so pure, so \'oid of guile, 
 Yet something snappish, too, the while. 
 
 Her lips' ricli red, her cheeks' soft bloom. 
 Will haunt me to the day of doom ! 
 The pretty way she droops lier eyes 
 Has thrilled my heart in wondrous wise; 
 Her short sharp manner, half in fright, 
 'Twas charming, fascinating quite ! 
 
 \To Mepuistophblks, ichii enters.) 
 Hark, )-ou must get that girl for me ! 
 
 MErniSTOIMHiLES. 
 
 Cet you that girl: Which do )'ou mean: 
 
 Facst. 
 She that went by but now. 
 
 Mi;iMiisi()]'iiELi;s. 
 
 What! Sher 
 She has to her confessor been, 
 Who gave her — he could scarce do less- 
 
FA US T. 
 
 79 
 
 Full absolution ; I was there, 
 Lying ensconced behind his chair. 
 Though she had nothing to confess, 
 Nothing whatever, to him she went, 
 Poor thing, she is so innocent. 
 Over that girl I have no power. 
 
 Faust 
 Yet is she fourteen, every hour. 
 
 MliPHISTOI'IIELES. 
 
 Spoken like Sir Rake, who would make prize 
 Of every dainty flower he spies. 
 And thinks all honours, favours, may 
 Be had for taking any day! 
 But this won't do in every case. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Ho, Master Graveairs, is it so? 
 Your sermonizing's out of place. 
 And, in a word, I'd have you know. 
 Unless this very night shall see 
 This sweet young thing in my embrace. 
 All's at an end 'twixt you and me ! 
 
 Mkphistopheles. 
 
 Think of the obstacles ! I should 
 Require at least a fortnight good, 
 To bring about a meeting merely. 
 
 Faus'I'. 
 
 In half the time I'll undertake, 
 Without the devil's aid, to make 
 A chit like that adore me dearly. 
 
 Mephlstoi'iieles. 
 
 Why, by your talk, now, one might swear, 
 That you almost a Frenchman were ! 
 But, pray, don't lose your temper so ! 
 For Where's the good, I'd like to know 
 
 Of rushing to enjoyment straight? 
 The pleasure's not by much so great. 
 As when you've first by every kind 
 Of foolish fondling to your mind 
 The doll contrived to knead and mould. 
 As many Italian tales have told. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 My appetite, I tell you, wants 
 No such fantastic stimulants. 
 
 Mepiiistoimieles. 
 
 That may be; — but, apart all jest, 
 
 Or slight upon you, I protest, 
 
 With this young thing you'll ne'er succeed. 
 
 By pushing on at race-horse speed. 
 
 We cannot storm the town, in short, 
 
 So must to stratagem resort. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Fetch me some thing she's used to wear ! 
 Her bedroom, introduce me there ! 
 A kerchief from her bosom bring. 
 The darling's gaiter, anything ! 
 
 MEPrilSTOPUELES. 
 
 That you may see, I mean to spare 
 No pains to bring your suit to bear, 
 We shall not lose one moment, — nay, 
 We'll bring you to her room this very day. 
 
 Faust. 
 And shall I see, — possess her? 
 
 Mephistopiieles. 
 
 No! 
 She will be with a neighbour. So 
 You may, quite undisturbed the while. 
 Within her atmosphere beguile 
 
FA US T. 
 
 The time liy dreaming, fancy free, 
 Of [jleasiires afterwards to be. 
 
 Faust. 
 Can we go there at once ? 
 
 MeI'IIISTOITIELKS. 
 
 O no, 
 'Tis much too early yet lo go. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 I'ro\-ifle me with .some present straiglit, 
 
 Wliicli may lier fancy captivate ! [Exit. 
 
 MErniSTOPHKLES. 
 
 Presents ? Oh rare ! He's sure to make a hit. 
 Full many a famous place I know, 
 And treasures buried long ago. 
 Well ! I must look them up a bit. 
 
ACT III. 
 
 SCENE I. — Evening. 
 
 A tidilx appouittd little room. 
 
 ^L\Ei;.Ai:ET oraidinx' aim' Iv'ihiii!:^' up her hair . 
 
 HO was that gentleman ? Heigho ! 
 I would gi\'e something, no^v, to know. 
 He looked so frank and handsome, he 
 (')f noble blood must surely be. 
 That much, at least, his forehead told ; 
 He ne'er had \entured else to be so bold. Exit. 
 
 MEPinsTOPUELES and FAr>T enter. 
 
 MEr'mSTijPilELES. 
 
 Come in as softly as you may 
 
 Faust [after a fanse). 
 Leave me alone — alone. I pray! 
 
 ]\lKi'[ii-TrirHELES I /'t-cVvV/.c about the room . 
 It is not every girl keeps things so neat. Exit. 
 
82 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 Faust (^I'dsfim; /lis eves ai'iuiiiil). 
 
 Welcome, thou twilight glimmer sweet, 
 Throughout this sanctuary shed ! 
 Oh, love's delicious pain, that art 
 By dews of hope sustained and fed. 
 Take absolute possession of my h.eart! 
 How, all around, there l)reathes a sense 
 Of calm, of order, and content ! 
 What plenty in this indigence ! 
 In this low cell what ravishment ! 
 
 \Casts liiiiisclf down upon a leathern 
 aim-cJiair by tlie bedside. 
 Receive me, thou, that hast with open arm 
 Held generations past in joy and moan ! 
 Ah me ! how often has a rosy swarm 
 Of children clung to this paternal throne ! 
 Here did my love, perhaps, with grateful breast 
 For gifts the holy Christ-child brought her, stand. 
 
 Her chubby childish cheeks devoutly pressed 
 Against her aged grandsire's withered hand. 
 I feel thy spirit, maiden sweet. 
 Of order and contentment round me play. 
 That like a mother schools thee day by day. 
 Upon the table bids thee lay 
 The cover folded fresh and neat. 
 And strew the sand that crackles 'neath the feet. 
 Dear hand, that dost all things with beauty leaven. 
 Thou makest, like a god, this lowly home a heaven ! 
 And here ! [Raises: one of /lie emiains of the bed. 
 What rapturous tremor shakes me now ? 
 Here could I linger hours untold. 
 Here the incarnate angel thou, 
 O Nature, didst in airy visions mould ; 
 Here lay the child, its gentle breast 
 Filled with warm life; and, hour by hour. 
 The bud, by hands divine caressed, 
 E.xpanded to the perfect flower ! 
 

 
 'ST. 
 
 83 
 
 
 FAV 
 
 
 And thou ! What brings thee hither ? I 
 
 Mepiiisti^pmeles. 
 
 
 
 Am stirred with strange emotion. Why: 
 
 Can you ask it? 
 
 
 
 What wouldst thou here ? What weight so sore 
 Is this that presses on thy heart? 
 
 Perhaps you 'd like to keep the casket ! 
 In that case, friend, I would ad\ise 
 
 
 
 O hapless Faust, so changed thou art, 
 
 Your lechery to economise 
 
 
 
 I know thee now no more, no more ! 
 
 The precious hours, — give up the bubble, 
 And save myself all farther trouble. 
 
 
 
 Is 't some enchanted atmosphere. 
 
 You avaricious? You? Oh no! 
 
 
 
 Encompasses, and charms me here ? 
 Upon possession's bliss supreme 
 
 I won't believe that this is so. 
 
 I scratch my head — toil might and main - 
 
 
 
 My soul till now was madly bent, 
 
 [He places the easket in the press 
 
 anil ; 
 
 
 And now in a delicious dream 
 
 closes the lock. 
 
 
 
 Of love I melt away content. 
 
 Let us be oft! Psha ! lingering still? — 
 
 
 
 Is man, with all his powers so rare. 
 
 The sweet young thing for you to gain. 
 
 
 
 The sport of every gust of air ? 
 
 And bend her to your wish and will ; 
 And here are you with face of gloom, 
 For all the world, as if you were 
 
 
 
 And if she were to enter now. 
 
 Just entering your lecture-room. 
 
 
 
 How would your guilty soul her glances meet ? 
 
 And saw before you Physics there. 
 
 
 
 The mighty braggart, ah, how small ! would bow. 
 
 And Metaphysics grimly stare ! 
 
 
 
 Dissolved in abject terror, at her feet. 
 
 Come ! Start ! [Ex 
 
 •lint. 
 
 
 Mei'iiistopheles. 
 
 Mabgaret {enters with a lamp). 
 
 
 
 Despatch ! She 's coming to the door. 
 
 It is so close, so sultry here ! 
 
 
 
 
 [Opens the win 
 
 low. 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 And yet outside 'twas rather chilly. 
 
 
 
 Hence ! Hence ! Here I return no more. 
 
 I feel, I can't tell how ; oh dear ! 
 I wish that mother would come in. 
 
 
 
 Mepiustopiieles. 
 
 I have a creeping all over my skin. 
 
 
 
 Here is a casket, laden well; 
 I got it, where ? no need to tell . 
 
 I'm such a frightened thing, - so silly ! 
 
 [Begins to siii^- as she undresses he; 
 
 ■self. 
 
 
 If you will only place it there 
 
 Within the press — quick, quick ! — I swear, 
 
 She'll be beside herself with joy. 
 
 Some baubles there I've stowed away ; 
 
 For toys we angle with a toy. 
 
 In Thule dwelt a King, and he 
 Was leal unto the grave ; 
 
 A cup to him of the red red gold 
 His leman dying gave. 
 
 
 
 Pah ! Child is child, and play is play. 
 
 He quaffed it to the dregs, whene'er 
 He drank among his peers, 
 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 And ever, as he drained it down. 
 
 
 
 I know not— shall I? 
 
 His eyes would brim with tears. 
 
 
 L2 
 
84 
 
 FA [/s r. 
 
 And when his end drew near, lie told 
 
 His kingdom's cities up, 
 Gave all his wealth unto his lieir. 
 
 But with it not the cup. 
 
 He sat and feasted at the board, 
 His knights around his knee. 
 
 Within the palace of his sires. 
 Hard by the roaring sea. 
 
 Then up he rose, that toper old, 
 
 A long last breath he drew, 
 And down the cup he loved so well 
 
 Into the ocean threw. 
 
 He saw it flash, then settle down, 
 
 Down, down into the sea, 
 And, as he gazed, his eyes grew dim. 
 
 Nor ever again drank he. 
 
 \Slic opens the prrsa to put awax her clotlies, 
 and discovers tlie easket. 
 What's here! How comes this lovely casket thus? 
 I'm very confident I locked the press. 
 
 'Tis surely most mysterious ! 
 
 What it contains I cannot guess. 
 
 In pledge for money lent, maybe, 
 
 'Tis with my mother left to keep? 
 
 A ribbon and a little key ! 
 
 r\e half a mind to take a peep. 
 
 AVhat's this ? Great heavens ! All my days 
 
 The like of this I've never seen, — 
 
 Jewels and trinkets ! Such a blaze 
 
 Might grace a duchess, ay, a ([ueen I 
 
 On me how would the necklace sit ? 
 
 Whose can they be, these braveries fine? 
 
 j Puts on t/ie trinkets, ami icai/cs heforc 
 tlic loo/;ini;'-i;lass. 
 Oh, if the ear-rings were but mine ! 
 In them one doesn't look the same a bit. 
 Vou may be young, you may be pretty ; 
 All very nice and fine to view, 
 But noljody cares a straw for you, 
 And, if folks praise, 'tis half in pity. 
 For gold all strive. 
 For gold all wive. 
 
 'Tis gold rules all things 'neath the sun. 
 Alas ! we poor folks that ha\'e none ! 
 
FA US r. 
 
 ss 
 
 SCENE II.— Public Promenade. 
 
 Faust icalking up and down lurapt in thought. 
 To him MEPmsT(jiJiiELES. 
 
 MEPHISTOrllELES. 
 
 By love despised and its tortures fell! 
 By all the elements of hell ! 
 Oh, would I only knew something worse, 
 That I might cram it into a curse ! 
 
 Faust. 
 What's wrong? What puts you in such case? 
 In all my life I ne'er saw such a face. 
 
 Mephistopheles, 
 
 The devil's self if I were not, 
 
 I'd pitch myself to him on the spot ! 
 
 Faust. 
 What has befallen to rob you of your wits? 
 How well on you this maniac fury sits ! 
 
 Mephistopiieles. 
 Just think — 'tis not be endured — 
 The set of jewels I procured 
 
 For Margaret, a rascal priest 
 
 Has swept clean off, — he has, the beast ! 
 
 Her mother of tliem got an inkling. 
 
 And fell to quaking in a twinkling. 
 
 The nose that woman has, you'd ne'er 
 
 Believe, for scenting all that's wrong. 
 
 Over her Book of Common Prayer 
 
 She snuffles, snuffles, all day long. 
 
 With sanctimonious scowl demure. 
 
 At every stick of furniture 
 
 She drops her nose to ascertain. 
 
 If it be holy or profane. 
 
 So in the trinkets soon she spies. 
 
 That not much of a blessing lies. 
 
 Quoth she, "All such unrighteous gear 
 
 Corrupts both body and soul, my dear. 
 
 So let us, then, this devil's bait 
 
 To Mary Mother consecrate. 
 
 And she, as recompense instead, 
 
 Will gladden us with heavenly bread." 
 
 Poor Gretchen pulled a long wry face. 
 
 "Gift horse!" thought she, "in any case! 
 
 And very godless he cannot be. 
 
 Who brought it here so handsomely." 
 
86 
 
 FA US r. 
 
 'I'he niotlier for the parson sent, 
 
 Who heard her nonsense, and his eyes, 
 
 Be sure, they gleamed with a rare content, 
 
 When he beheld the glistening prize. 
 
 Quoth he, "A holy frame of mind ! 
 
 ^\'ho conquers self, lea\"es all behind ! 
 
 The church, for whom your gift is meant, 
 
 A stomach has most excellent. 
 
 Whole countries, land, and grange, and town. 
 
 She at a meal has swallowed down, 
 
 Yet ne'er, however gorged with pelf. 
 
 Was known to over-eat herself. 
 
 The church, my dears, alone with zest 
 
 Can such unrighteous gear digest." 
 
 Fai-st. 
 That power it shares with not a few ; 
 Your king, now, has it, eke your Jew. 
 
 MeI'UISTOI'IIELKS. 
 
 So saying, he swept off amain 
 
 Ring, necklace, bracelet, brooch, and chain. 
 
 With quite as unconcerned an air. 
 
 As if they merely mushrooms were. 
 
 Treating my precious gems and casket 
 
 Like nuts so many in a basket ; 
 
 And, promising that heaven no end 
 
 Of fair rewards to them would send, 
 
 He took his leave, and there they sat, 
 
 Immensely edified by that. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 And Gretchen? 
 
 MEl'niSTOrHELES. 
 
 She is all unrest. 
 And scarce knows what she'd like the best, 
 Thinks of the trinkets night and day. 
 And more of them that brought them — hey! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 It pains me, that my love should fret. 
 Fetch her at once another set ! 
 The first were no great things. — 
 
 MePHISTOI'HELES. 
 
 Heyday ! 
 
 All things are to my lord child's play. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Do what I wish, and quickly ! Go ! 
 Stick to her neighbour close. Be no 
 Mere milk-and-water devil, and get 
 Of these gewgaws another set. 
 
 Mei'hi.stopheles. 
 
 That )ou desire it is enough. 
 Such lovesick fools away will puff 
 Sun, moon, and stars into the air. 
 And all to please their lady fair. 
 
 \Exit Faust. 
 
FA US T. 
 
 87 
 
 SCENE III.— Tub NEiraiiiOrR's House. 
 M.Mn'iiA {(ilonc). 
 
 My good man, God forgive liim, he 
 
 Has acted scurvily by me, 
 
 To start away, the Lord knows where, 
 
 And leave me widowed, lone, and bare. 
 
 I never plagued him — God forbid ! — 
 
 I loved him dearly, that I did, [Weeps. 
 
 Perhaps he's dead, though ? Cruel fate ! 
 
 Had I but some certificate. 
 
 The fact officially to state ! 
 
 Enter Maroaret. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Martha ! 
 
 Martha. 
 
 What ails my pretty dear ? 
 
 Margaret. 
 I feel just like to drop. See here 
 Another casket — nothing less — 
 Of ebony left in my press ! 
 And things, so grand and fine, I feel, 
 They're costlier than the first a deal. 
 
88 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 Maktiia. 
 
 You must not let your motlier know, 
 Or to the priest they, too, will go. 
 
 Maroah-ET. 
 Oh see, now, see ! Look at them, do ! 
 
 Martua, 
 You lucky, lucky creature you ! 
 
 Mahoake-1'. 
 
 Alas ! I never dare appear, 
 
 In the street or at church, in sucli fine gear. 
 
 Mautua. 
 
 To me come often over, lass ; 
 
 You can put them on, and nobody know ; 
 
 Parade a good hour before the glass. 
 
 We'll have our own enjoyment so. 
 
 And then, if you'll but wait, no doubt 
 
 You're sure somehow to get a chance. 
 
 Little by little to bring them out, 
 
 On holidays, or at a dance. 
 
 We'll manage it so as to make no stir ; 
 
 A necklace first, and then the pearl 
 
 Ear-rings — your mother won't notice, girl; 
 
 We can alwa)-s make out some story for her. 
 
 MAiiOAiiirr. 
 
 But who could lioth the caskets bring? 
 There's something wrong about the thing. 
 
 \A knock at the Joor. 
 Good heavens ! .Should that be mother ! 
 
 Mah'i'iia. 
 
 Some stranger 'tis — Come in ! 
 
 MEi'UlsToPHELr.s I cnfcriiig). 
 I pray 
 
 Nay, 
 
 Your pardon, ladies, for intruding thus. 
 'Tis most unceremonious, 
 
 [Steps Imck respectfiiUy on seeing Mahoaret. 
 Which may Dame Martha Schwerdtlein be? 
 
 Martha. 
 What is your pleasure ? I am she. 
 
 Mephistoi'iieles {aside to hei-). 
 
 Now that I know you, that will do. 
 You've ijuality, I see, with you. 
 Excuse the liberty I took : 
 In later in the day I'll look. 
 
 MAin'iiA [aloud.) 
 
 Just think, the odd mistake he made ! He 
 Fancied, child, you were a lady. 
 
 Maroaret. 
 
 A simple girl am I, and poor. 
 The gentleman's too kind, I'm sure. 
 These ornaments are not my own. 
 
 Mepuistopiiele.s. 
 
 'Tis not the ornaments alone ; 
 
 The piercing glance, the air urbane — 
 
 How glad I am, I may remain ! 
 
 Martha. 
 Your news, sir? I'm all ears! How went it? 
 
 MEl'UI.'*TOI>nELES. 
 
 I would my tale were less distressing. 
 
 On me, I trust, you won't resent it? 
 
 Your husband's dead, and sends his blessing. 
 
 Martha. 
 
 Is dead? Poor darling! lackaday ! 
 My husband's dead. I faint away ! 
 

 
 
 
 
 FAUST. 89 
 
 
 
 Makoahet. 
 
 Mephlstopiieles. 
 
 
 
 Oh, keep your heart up, dearest friend ! 
 
 I feel for you, but let me say, 
 His money was not fooled away. 
 
 
 
 MF.I'HISTOlMHiLES. 
 
 Besides, he did his sins deplore. 
 
 
 
 Hear the sad story to the end i 
 
 But mourned his evil lack considerably more. 
 
 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 MaRGjVRET. 
 
 
 
 'Tis things like this, which make me pray, 
 
 That fall in love I never may ; 
 
 For such a loss, I do believe, 
 
 To death itself would make me grieve. 
 
 Alas ! that men should be so wretched ! He 
 Shall for his soul's repose have many a prayer 
 from me. 
 
 Mepulstopheles. 
 
 
 
 MEI'UISTOfnELES. 
 
 Ah, joy goes hand in hand with care. 
 
 You are so good, so charming, you 
 Deserve a husband, ay, and quickly too. 
 
 
 
 Martha. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 
 
 But tell me, how he died and where? 
 
 Ah no ! Too soon for that ! I can't — 
 
 
 
 MEPIII«T(JPnELES. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 
 
 In Padua his bones repose. 
 There, ma'am, in Saint Antonio's, — 
 The best of consecrated ground, — 
 A quiet corner he has found. 
 
 Well, till the husband comes, then, a gallant ! 
 Heaven has no boon more sweet, more rare, 
 Than in one's arms to fold a thing so fair. 
 
 
 
 Martha. 
 
 MaRGAKE'J'. 
 
 
 
 But have you nought for me beside ? 
 
 That's not our country's usage, sir. 
 
 
 
 MePIHSTOI'HBLES. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 
 
 Yes, one most weighty, huge request,— 
 
 Usage or not, such things occur. 
 
 
 
 Three hundred masses to provide. 
 To sing his poor soul into rest. 
 Of all but this my pocket's bare. 
 
 Martha. 
 Go on, sir ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 
 
 Martha. 
 
 I was at his side. 
 
 
 
 What ! Not a luck-penny ? What ! Ne'er 
 
 There by the bed on which he died. 
 
 
 
 A trinket, — token? Why, there's not 
 
 A sorrier eyes never saw, 
 
 
 
 A handicraftsman but has got. 
 
 A mere dung-heap of rotten straw. 
 
 
 
 Somewhere within his wallet stored. 
 
 Yet still he made a Christian ending. 
 
 
 
 However bare, some little hoard. 
 
 And found, that, what with drink and spending. 
 
 
 
 Something to touch a body's heart with, 
 
 He had run up a great deal more. 
 
 
 
 He'd sooner starve, or beg, than part with. 
 
 Than he had thought for, on his score. 
 
 
 
 
 M 
 
90 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 "How I detest myself!" cried he, 
 "For ha\ing so disgracefully 
 Deserted both my wife and calling. 
 The very thought on't is ajjpalling ! 
 It saps my life. Could I but know, 
 That she forgi\es me, ere I die!" 
 
 Mak'i'iia {u'fi-piiig). 
 Dear heart! I — 1 forgave him long ago. 
 
 MEPniSTorUKLES. 
 
 "Still, God knows, she was more to blame than I " 
 
 Mautiia. 
 He lied there! What! To lie, the knave, 
 Upon the threshold of the grave ! 
 
 Mei'iiistiipukle.s. 
 His latest gasps were sjjcnt in fiction. 
 That is my most profound conviction. 
 "Small time for idling had I," he said, 
 "First getting children, then getting them bread, 
 And clothing their backs, yet never had yet 
 A moment's quiet to eat my crust." 
 
 Martha 
 Did he thus all my truth, my love forget. 
 My drudging early and late? 
 
 MEI'HLSTllpnELES. 
 
 Be just ! 
 Not so. Of that in his dejection 
 He showed a touching recollection. 
 "VVIien I," he said, "wa.s leaving Malta, I 
 Prayed for my wife and children most devoutly; 
 Heaven so far blessed my prayers, that by-and-by 
 We met a Turkish galley, took it stoutly. 
 It carried treasure for the Sultan. There 
 Valour for once had its reward, 'tis true, 
 And I received — and 'twas my simple due — 
 Of what we took a very handsome share." 
 
 Martha. 
 What: How? He hid it somewhere, I suppose? 
 
 MErUISTOI'HELES, 
 
 Wliere tlie four winds have blown it now, who 
 
 knows ? 
 Strolling forlorn in Naples through the city, 
 A damsel on his loneliness took pity. 
 And such warm tenderness between them passed. 
 He bore its marks, [joor saint, about him to the 
 
 last. 
 
 Mahtha. 
 Wretch ! To his children play the thief? 
 Not all his want, not all his grief 
 Could check his shameless life. 
 
 Mepihstopiieles. 
 
 Ay, ma'am, but surely, 
 'Twas this that killed him prematurely. 
 Now, were I in your place, I would 
 Mourn one chaste year of widowhood ; 
 And look about meanwhile to find 
 A second husband to my mind. 
 
 M.\I!TUA. 
 
 Ah me ! With all his faults I durst 
 Not hope to find one like the first. 
 A kinder-hearted fool than he 
 'Twas scarcely possible to be. 
 His only fault was, that from home 
 He was too much inclined to roam. 
 Loved foreign women - filthy vice! — 
 And foreign wine, and those curst dice. 
 
 MEPniSTOl'IlELES. 
 
 How different might have been his state, 
 
 Had he, poor wretch, been equally 
 
 Forbearing and aft'ectionate ! 
 
 Treat me as well, and, I protest, 
 
 I'd ask you to change rings with me. 
 
 Martha. 
 O Lord, sir, you are pleased to jest ! 
 
 Mephistopheles (asit/c). 
 I'd best be oft' now ! This absurd 
 Old fool would take the devil at his word. 
 
 [T<> Makoaret 
 How is it with your heart?— Content? 
 
FA US T. 
 
 91 
 
 MARGAliET. 
 
 What mean you, sir? 
 
 Mephistopiieles. 
 
 Sweet innocent ! 
 {Aloud.) Ladies, farewell ! 
 
 Makoahet. 
 
 Farewell ! 
 
 Martha. 
 
 Before 
 You go, sir, give me one word more. 
 I'd like to have some proof to show 
 Where, how, and when my darling died. 
 And was interred. I've always tried 
 To be methodical, and so 
 'Twould comfort me, it would indeed. 
 Could I his death but in the papers read. 
 
 Mepiiistofiieles. 
 Oh, certainly, good madam, I 
 Your wish at once can gratify. 
 
 One witness by another backed, 
 
 All the world over, proves a fact. 
 
 I have a friend in town here, who will state 
 
 What you require before the Magistrate. 
 
 I'll bring him here with me. 
 
 Mahtoa. 
 
 (Jh do, sir, pray ! 
 
 Mepiiistopueles. 
 And this young lady will be with you, eh? 
 A fine young fellow ! A great traveller ! Quite 
 A ladies' man, — especially polite. 
 
 MAHr;AI!ET. 
 
 I'd sink with shame before him, sir. 
 
 Mepiiistopheles. 
 No ! Not before an emperor. 
 
 Martha. 
 At dusk in my back garden we 
 You and your friend will hope to see. 
 
 M3 
 
92 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 s% 
 
 
 SCENE IV. — Sti;ki:t. 
 Fa I'S'i' , Miii '1 1 is'i( (I '1 1 n I ,ios. 
 
 Faiist. 
 HAT speed? Will't work? What of my flcar? 
 
 CL.- 
 
 MF.I'IIJS'l'dl'HEbES. 
 
 Bravo ! So hot ? You'll shortly bring 
 Vour i|uarry down. This evening 
 
 At neighljour Martlia's shall you see her ! 
 
 That is a woman made express 
 
 To play the pimj) and procuress. 
 
 Faust. 
 Good ! Good ! 
 
 Mioi'insToriiioLEs. 
 
 But there is something, too, 
 That she rei|uires of us to do. 
 
 Fai'st. 
 Well, one gootl turn deserves another. 
 
 Ml-, 
 
 rnis'i'oi'ni':i.i-;s. 
 
 We 
 
 Have to depone — a mere formality — 
 
 That stiff and stark her husband's carcass lies 
 
 In Padua in holy ground. 
 
 I'ArST. 
 
 Most wise ! 
 Why, we must make the journey first, of course? 
 
 Mi;i'iiis'i'oi'inoLi;s. 
 Saiiita siiiipliiilas ! No need of that! ^'ou just 
 Speak to the facts, and take them upon trust. 
 
 Faust. 
 The game is up, if that's the .sole resource. 
 
 Mi':i'uis'i'oi'ni';i.i:s. 
 G holy man! is this your cue? 
 Is this the first time in your life, that you 
 Ilave borne false witness? Have you not 
 In language the most positive defined 
 God, the worlil, all that moves therein, mankind. 
 His capabilities of feeling, thought, 
 Ay, done it with a breast undaslied 
 By faintest fear, a forehead unabashed? 
 
FA US r. 
 
 93 
 
 Yet tax yourself, and you must own, that you 
 As much in truth about these matters knew, 
 As of Herr Schwerdtlein's death you do. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Liar and sopliist, thou wilt be 
 Liar and sophist to the close ! 
 
 MEi'nis'roi'UKLios. 
 
 Oh, certainly, roiild one not see 
 
 A little farther Ijefore one's nose. 
 
 To-morrow will not you — of course, 
 
 Li all integrity! — beguile 
 
 Poor Margaret, and your suit enforce, 
 
 By su'earing all your soul hangs on her smile? 
 
 Faust. 
 And from ni)' heart I'd speak. 
 
 Mni'msToi'iiKLES. 
 
 () specious art! 
 You 'II talk about eternal truth and love, 
 (_)f [jassion, all control, all change above; 
 Will this, too, come quite purely from the heart: 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Peace, fiend ! it will ! What ! If I feel. 
 
 And for that feeling, frenzy, flame, 
 
 I seek, but cannot find a name. 
 
 Then through the round of nature reel. 
 
 With every sense at fe\'er heat. 
 
 Snatching at all subliniest phrases. 
 
 And call this fire, that in me blazes, 
 
 Endless, eternal, ay, eternal, — 
 
 Is this mere de\ilish det'eit. 
 
 Devised to dazzle, and to cheat? 
 
 Miornis'i'oi'UEijES. 
 Yet am I right. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Thou fiend infernal ! 
 
 Hear me ! And mark, too, what I say. 
 
 So spare these lungs of nime, I pray. 
 
 He that's resolved he's in the right, 
 
 And has but tongue enough, is quite 
 
 Secure to gain his point. But come. 
 
 This babblement grows wearisome. 
 
 Right, then, thou art. I grant it, just 
 
 Because I cannot choose but must. 
 
94 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 SCENE v. — Gakdio.n. 
 
 MAiif;AKKT (}/i Faus'i's anil. Martha 7oit/i 
 Mefiusti.h'iieles "loalkiiig up and doicii. 
 
 Mahcarbt. 
 You only bear with me, I'm sure you do, 
 You stooji, to shame me, you so wise. 
 You travellers are so used to view 
 All things you come across with kindly eyes. 
 I know, ni)- poor talk can but weary such 
 A man as you, that must have known so much. 
 
 Faust. 
 One glance, one word of thine, to me is more 
 Than all this world's best wisdom — all its lore. 
 
 \Kissrs her haiul. 
 
 M.VUOAUET. 
 
 (Jh no, sir, no! How can you kiss it? 'Tis 
 So coarse, so hard — it is not fit — 
 The things l'\e had to do with it ! 
 Mother's too niggardl)- — indeed she is. 
 
 1 They pass on. 
 
 M,\I!THA. 
 
 kwA you, like this, are always travelling, sir? 
 
 MEl'lIlSTorUEEES. 
 
 Phisiness, alas ! and duty force us. Ah ! what pain 
 It costs a man from many a place to stir, 
 Where yet his fate forbids him to remain ! 
 
 Maktua. 
 'Tis very well to rove this way 
 About the world when young, and strong, and brave. 
 But soon or later comes the evil day ; 
 And to go crawling on into the grave 
 x-\ stiff old lonely bachelor, - that can 
 Never be good for any man. 
 
 MEPIIISTorHELES 
 
 I shudder, thinking such may be my fate. 
 
 MAIiTHA. 
 
 Then, sir, be wise, before it is too late. 
 
 \Tlicy pass on. 
 Mako.vhe'I'. 
 Yes ! Out of sight is out of mind ! 
 Politeness costs you nothing. Why, 
 You 've friends in plenty, good and kind. 
 And they have far more sense than I. 
 

 
 
 95 
 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 
 
 Oh, best of creatures, trust me, the pretence 
 
 An angel, sweet, if it resembled you ! 
 
 
 
 Of that, which passes with the world for sense, 
 
 
 
 
 More frequently is neither more nor less. 
 
 MAItriAIiET. 
 
 
 
 Than self-conceit and narrow-mindedness. 
 
 I brought it up, and, do you know. 
 
 
 
 INTahcaiie'J'. 
 
 It loved me witli a love so true ! 
 
 
 
 Ho«' so ? 
 
 My father died, before 'twas born. 
 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 We gave up mother for lost ; lier fit 
 Left her so wasted, and so forlorn. 
 
 
 
 Ah ! That simplicity 
 
 And very, very slow she mended, bit by bit 
 
 
 
 And innocence will never recognize 
 
 She could not, therefore, dream herself 
 
 
 
 Themselves, and all their worth so holy ! 
 
 Of suckling the poor little elf; 
 
 
 
 That meekness and a spirit lowly. 
 
 
 
 
 And so I nursed it all alone. 
 
 
 
 The highest gifts, that Nature's free 
 
 On milk and water, till at last 
 
 
 
 And loving bounty can devise — 
 
 It grew my \'ery own. 
 
 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Upon my arm, within my breast 
 
 
 
 A little moment only think of me ; 
 
 It smiled, and crowed, and grew so fast. 
 
 
 
 I shall have time enough to think of you. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 You must have felt most purely blest. 
 
 
 
 You 're much alone, tjien ? 
 
 
 
 
 Mahoaket. 
 
 Maugaket. 
 
 
 
 Yes ! 'Tis true. 
 
 Oh yes ! Still I had many things to try me 
 
 
 
 Our household's small, but still, you see. 
 
 The baby's cradle stood at night 
 
 1 
 
 
 It wants no little looking to. 
 
 Beside my bed : if it but stirred, I would 
 
 
 
 We have no maid ; so I've to do 
 
 Awake in fright. 
 
 
 
 The cooking, sewing, knitting, sweeping ; 
 
 One time I had to give it drink or food. 
 
 
 
 I'm on my feet from morn till night. 
 
 Another time to lay it by me ; 
 
 
 
 And mother's so exacting, and so tight 
 
 Then, if it had a crying fit. 
 
 
 
 In her housekeeping. 
 
 Out of my bed I needs must get. 
 
 
 
 Not that she needs to pinch so close. We might 
 
 And up and down the room go dandling it 
 
 
 
 Much more at ease than other people be. 
 
 And yet 
 
 
 
 My father left us, when he died. 
 
 Be standing at the wash-tub by daybreak. 
 
 
 
 A cottage with some garden ground, outside 
 
 Then do the marketing, set the house to rights ; 
 
 
 The town, a tidy bit of property. 
 
 And so it went on, mornings, mid-days, nig 
 
 hts. 
 
 
 But now I am not near so .sore bestead. 
 
 Always the same ! Such things will make 
 
 
 
 My brother is away — a soldier he. 
 
 One's spirits not at all times of the best. 
 
 
 
 My little sister's dead. 
 
 Still they give relish to our food, our rest 
 
 
 
 Ah! with the child I had a world of trouble. 
 
 \TIiey pass 
 
 ('//. 
 
 
 And yet, and yet, I'd gladly undergo 
 
 Martha. 
 
 
 
 It all again, though it were double. 
 
 Poor women get the worst on't, though. A 
 
 dry 
 
 
 I loved the darling so. 
 
 Old bachelor's not easy to convert. 
 
 ! 
 
 1 
 
96 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 jMi:riiisTiiriu:Li;s. 
 
 Would one like you but make tlie triak I 
 My wicked \va) s might soon desert. 
 
 MAirriiA. 
 Frankly, now ! Is there no one you have met? 
 Has not your heart formed some attacliment yet ? 
 
 MEi'iiisTorimLEs. 
 
 What says the proverb? A hearth of one's own 
 
 And a housewife good, it is well known, 
 
 Are better than gold or precious stone. 
 
 Maiitua. 
 I mean, sir, have }'ou never had a liking? 
 
 MiiiMiisTorinoLus. 
 The favour shown me everywhere is striking. 
 
 Maktha. 
 I wished to say ; \'our heart, has it 
 Never been conscious of a serious feeling ? 
 
 Miji'nisTDi'UEi.Ks. 
 ]\'Iadam, a jesting mood were most unfit, 
 Not to say, dangerous, whenwith ladies dealing. 
 
 MAirruA. 
 Ah, )'ou don't understand what I'd fie at. 
 
 Mlil'IllSTdl'HKnKS. 
 
 I'm grieved most heartily for that. 
 
 But this is unite clear to my mind, 
 
 That you are very, \ cry kiml. \_'J'Iirx pass on. 
 
 Faist. 
 When I came in, you little angel, then. 
 You knew me at a glance again? 
 
 MARflAUET. 
 
 D'vl you not see ? J could not meet your look. 
 
 Fai:st. 
 And you forgive the liberty I tiiok, 
 The mad imijertinence, which prompted me. 
 
 To stop you on tlie street the other day. 
 As you came out from the Catlicdral door? 
 
 Maimi.m.'iot. 
 
 It took me ipiite aback. What could it be? 
 
 Nothing like this had e'er occurred before. 
 
 No one of me an evil word could say. 
 
 And then it crossed my thoughts ; "Alas, tlie day! 
 
 Can he about me anything have seen. 
 
 Bold or unmaidenly in look or mien ?" 
 
 It seemed as if the thought had struck you — She 
 
 Is just the girl, with whom one can make free ! 
 
 Let me confess the truth ! Not then I knew. 
 
 What in your favour here began to stir; 
 
 Bui with myself I was right angry, sir. 
 
 That I could not be angrier with you. 
 
 Sweet love ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 MAla.'AUIiT. 
 
 Stay 
 
 [S/ic plucks (7 sfar-floiocr, ami picks off the 
 petals, one after the oilier. 
 
 Faust. 
 What is this ? A nosegay ? 
 
 Makgaket. 
 
 No! 
 
 Only a game. 
 
 Faust. 
 A game ? 
 
 Mai(GAhi;t. 
 
 You'll mock me — Go ! 
 
 Faust. 
 What is it thou art murmuring? What? 
 
 Mauoaki-.t. 
 He loves me, loves me not. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 I guess. 
 
 Angelic creature ! 
 
FA US T. 
 
 97 
 
 Makgakht. 
 Loves me not, 
 Loves me — not — he loves me! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Yes! 
 Let what this llower has told tliee be 
 A revelation as frfun heaven to tliee ! 
 Speak to me, dearest! Dost thou comprehend 
 All that these simple words portend? 
 He loves me ! {Seizes botli her haiuh. 
 
 Mai!(;akI':'I'. 
 1 am all a-tremble ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Oh, do not tremble! Let this look. 
 
 This pressure of the hand, proclaim to thee 
 
 What words can never speak ; what bids us now 
 
 Surrender soul and sense, to feel 
 
 A rapture which must be eternal ? 
 
 Eternal, for its end would be despair ! 
 
 No, no, no end ! No end ! 
 
 Maroauet presses his hands, breaks from him, 
 
 and runs off. He stands for a moment in 
 
 thought, then folLnos her. 
 
 Martha (adi^aneinx). 
 'Tis growing dark ! 
 
 Mepiustoi'hki.es. 
 
 Yes, and we must away. 
 
 Martha. 
 
 I'd ask you, longer here to stay 
 
 Were this not such a wicketl place. 
 
 Folks seem to have nought else to do, I vow. 
 
 Or think about, except to play 
 
 'I'he spy upon their neighbours — how 
 
 They rise, lie down, come in, go out ; 
 
 And, take what heed one may, in any case 
 
 One's certain to get talked about. 
 
 But our young couple ? 
 
 MeJ'HISTOI'HKLES. 
 
 They have flown 
 Up yonder walk. The giddy butterflies ! 
 
 Martha. 
 Quite fond of her, methinks, he's 'grown. 
 
 MeI'HISTOPHELES. 
 
 And she of him. Could it be otherwise? 
 
yS 
 
 FA US r. 
 
 SCENE Vi. - A SiiiiMiou-iim'Si;. 
 
 ^[Al;(:Al;l:■^ /v///.f ///, phiu-s //,rsrlf hfJiiiid the door, 
 holds I he tip of her fii/x'er to her tips, ami peeps 
 t/uoo^^'/i tlie emi'ec. 
 
 jSTAKcAiii;']'. 
 Hi;'s filming ! 
 
 Eaist. 
 Did you fancy, )'ou 
 Could give me so the slip ? All then, 
 I've caught you, rogue ! \I\hses Iter. 
 
 MAi;(iAi!i"r ieinhraeiire; him and retiiriiiny tlic kiss). 
 
 ( )h, best of men, 
 I love thee, from my heart I do. 
 
 jMF.i'insToi'UET.Rs knocks. 
 
 Favst {staiNp/ii'^ /its loid\. 
 Who's there? 
 
 Mei'Ihstoi'iiI'-.i.f.s. 
 
 Your friend ! 
 
 Fa|!S'1'. 
 
 Beast, beast ! 
 
 JN'Iei'uis'I'oi'iholics. 
 
 'Tis time to go. 
 
 M,\KTn.\ [iOiiies up). 
 Yes, sir, 'tis late. 
 
 EAr.sT. 
 Mayn't 1 escort )'0u ? 
 lM.vi;(:.\i;iyi'. 
 
 iVTy motlier \\ould — Farewell ! 
 Faust. 
 
 No! 
 
 Must I beKone? 
 
 Farewell ! 
 
 Martha. 
 
 Adieu ! 
 
 Falst. 
 
 To meet again anon ! 
 yExeinit Faus'I' and Mioi'Histoitieles. 
 
 MAIidAKIC'l'. 
 
 Dear God! The things of every kind 
 A man like this has in his mind ! 
 I stand before him dashed and shy, 
 And say to all he speaks of, yes 
 In such a simple child as I, 
 I Wliat he should see, I cannot guess. 
 
 I J^-J^.^v-, 
 
SCENI': vu. 
 
 ICST AMJ CaVICHN. 
 
 Fats'I' (a/one). 
 
 Ma.jf.stic spirit, thou hast given rae all, 
 For which I prayed. Thou not in vain diilst turn 
 Thy countenance to me in fire and flame. 
 Thou glorious Nature for my reahn hast given, 
 With power to feel, and to enjoy her. Thou 
 No mere cold glance of wonder hast vouchsafed, 
 But lett'st me peer deep down into her breast, 
 Even as into the bosom of a friend. 
 Before me thou in long procession lead'st 
 All things that live, and teachest me to know 
 My kindred in still grove, in air, and stream. 
 And, when the storm sweeps roaring through the 
 
 woods, 
 Upwrenching by the roots the giant pines. 
 Whose neighbouring trunks, and intertangled 
 
 boughs. 
 In crashing ruin tear each other down. 
 And shake with roar of thunder all the hills. 
 Then dost thou guide me to some sheltering cave. 
 There show'st me to myself, and mine own soul 
 Teems marvels forth I weened not of behjre. 
 And when the pure moon, \\'ith her mellowing light. 
 
 N2 
 
FA US T. 
 
 Mounts as I ga^e, then from the rocky walls, 
 And out from the dank underwood, ascend 
 Forms silvery-clad of ages long ago, 
 And soften the austere delight of thought. 
 
 Oh, now 1 feel, no perfect lioon is e'er 
 Achieved by man. With this ecstatic power, 
 VVhicli brings mc hourly nearer to the gods, 
 A yokemate thou hast given me, whom even now 
 I can no more dispense with, though his cold 
 Insulting scorn degrades me to myself. 
 And turns thy gifts to nothing with a breath. 
 Within my breast he fans unceasingly 
 A raging fire for that bewitching form. 
 So to fruition from desire I reel, 
 And 'midst fruition languish for desire. 
 
 Enter Mm'jiisTOFUEi.ES. 
 
 MiorjnsTOPUELES. 
 
 What! Not yet weary of this life of quiet? 
 How can it charm you such awhile? I'ooh, pooh! 
 'Tis very well once in a way to try it ; 
 And then away again to something new ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Would thou hadst something else to do. 
 Than tease me when I would be still ! 
 
 MEl'lllST(]|'nELlCS. 
 
 Oh, I will leave you, if you will. 
 
 And leave you very gladly, too. 
 
 No need to be so very cross. 
 
 A surly pee\ish mate like you 
 
 Is truly little of a loss. 
 
 My hands are full from morn till night, 
 
 And yet by look or sign you won't 
 
 Let me divine what's wrong or right. 
 
 What things you like, and what \'ou don't. 
 
 F.\tST. 
 
 The true tone hit exactly ! He 
 Wants to be thanked for boring me. 
 
 MEI'inSTOruELES 
 
 Why, without mc, jjoor son of clay, 
 
 What sort of life would you have led? 
 
 I've cured that brain of yours, this many a day. 
 
 Of the whim-whams your sickly fancy bred ; 
 
 And from this ball of earth you clean away 
 
 Had, but for me, long long ago been sped. 
 
 Is it for you, to mope and scowl 
 
 la clefts and caverns, like an owl ? 
 
 Or, like a toad, lap nourishment 
 
 P'rom oozy moss, and dripping stones ? 
 
 ( )h, pastime rare and excellent ! 
 
 The Doctor still sticks in j-our bones. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Dost comprehend, what stores of fresh life-force 
 I gain in roaming thus by wold and waste ? 
 Ay, couldst thou but divine it, thou, of course, 
 Art too much fiend, such bliss to let me taste. 
 
 MEi'ins'i'or'iiEEE^'. 
 
 A super-earthly ecstasy ! To camp 
 
 On mountains in the dark, and dews, and damp ! 
 
 In transports to embrace the earth and sky, 
 
 Yourself into a deity inflate, 
 
 Pierce the earth's marrow by the light of high, 
 
 Unreasonmg, presentiments innate, 
 
 Feel in your breast the whole si\ days' creation. 
 
 And, in the pride of conscious power, to glow 
 
 With (juite incomprehensible elation. 
 
 Anon with lover's raptures to o'erflow 
 
 Into the Universal All, with now 
 
 No vestige left to mark the child of clay. 
 
 This trance ecstatic, glorious in its way, 
 
FA US T. 
 
 All winding up at last — \lVilIi a gesture. 
 
 I shan't say how ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Shame on thee ! 
 
 MeI'IIISTDI'IIELES. 
 
 ( )h, tliat shocks you! You liavc so 
 Much right with moral liorror lo cry shame! 
 One must not dare to squeamish ears to name 
 What, natheless, squeamish hearts will not forego. 
 Well, well, I grudge you not the satisfaction 
 Of lying to yourself upon occasion : 
 That sort of thing soon loses its attraction; 
 You'll tire of it, and without my persuasion. 
 To your old whims you're falling back again. 
 And 'tis most certain, if 1 let you, 
 They'll into madness lash your brain. 
 Or into horrors and blue-devils fret you. 
 Enough of this ! Ai home your darling sits. 
 And all with her's vacuity and sadness. 
 She cannot get you from her mind. Her wit's 
 Bewitched ; she dotes on you to madness. 
 At first your passion, like a little bro' k. 
 Swollen by the melted snows, all barriers overbore; 
 Into her heart you've poured it all, and, look! 
 That little brook of yours is dry once more. 
 Methinks, instead of playing king 
 Among the woods, your lordship might 
 Be doing better to retpnte 
 The poor young monkey's hankering 
 Time drags with her so sadly; she, poor wight. 
 Stands at her window, marks with listless eye 
 The clouds o'er the old city walls go sweeping by. 
 "Oh, if a birdie I might be!" So runs her song 
 Half through the night, and all day long ; 
 One while she's gay, though mostly she's downcast. 
 At other times she's pumped quite dry of tears^ 
 Then to appearance calm again, but first and last 
 In love o'er head and ears. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Serpent ! Serpent 
 
 Mei'uistoi'iieees [as/lie). 
 
 Oh, I bear you ! 
 So that only 1 ensnare you 1 
 
 Fai'st. 
 
 Out of my sight ! Accursed thing ! 
 Dare not to name her ! Nor before 
 My half- distracted senses bring 
 Desire for her sweet body more ! 
 
 Mei'ius-j'oimieles. 
 
 What's to be done? She thinks you gone for ever! 
 And in a manner so you are. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 I'm near her, ay, but were I ne'er so far, 
 I never can forget, can lose her never. 
 I envy even the Host itself, whene'er 
 'Tis touched by those sweet lips of hers ! 
 
 MEj'ins'roi'HioLKs. 
 
 Indeed ! 
 Well, friend, I've often en\ied you the pair 
 Of dainty twins, that 'midst the roses feed. 
 
 Hence, pimp ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 MEI'UlSTOI'lU';bES. 
 
 Oh, rare ! You rail, and I must laugh. 
 The God, who fashioned lad and wench. 
 Knew what He meant too well by half, 
 His noble purpose not to clench. 
 
FA US r. 
 
 By fashioning occasion due 
 
 For bringing them together, too. 
 
 Away ! 'Tis such a cruel case I 
 
 'Tis to your mistress' chamber, man, you go, 
 
 And not, methinks, to your luuioing. 
 
 Fa 1ST. 
 
 What were lieaven's l)liss itself in her embrace: 
 
 Though on her bosom I should glow. 
 
 Must I not feel her i)angs, her ruin? 
 
 What am I but an outcast, without home. 
 
 Or human tie, or aim, or resting-place, 
 
 That like a torrent raved along in foam, 
 
 From rock to rock, with ravening fury wild. 
 
 On to the brink of the abyss? And she, 
 
 In unsuspecting innocence a cliild, 
 
 flard by that torrent's banks, in tiny col, 
 
 Upon her little pjatch of mountain lea, 
 
 With all lier homely joys and cares, begot 
 
 And bounded in that little world ! 
 
 And I, die abhorred of God,— 'twas not 
 
 Enough, that down with me I whirled 
 The rifted rocks, and shattereil them ! I must 
 Drag her, her, and her peace into the dust! 
 Thou, Hell, must ha\'e this sacrilice perforce ! 
 Help, devil, then to abridge my torturing throes. 
 Let that which must be swiftly take its course, 
 Bring her doom down on me, to crown my woes. 
 And o'er us both one whelming ruin close ! 
 
 MEriiis'roi'nniJOs. 
 
 Ho, up at boiling-point again 1 
 
 Get in, fool, and console her ! When 
 
 Such silly pates no outlet can descry. 
 
 They think the very crash of doom is nigh. 
 
 Give me the man, that on will go. 
 
 Not to be swayed or shaken from his level ! 
 
 And yet at other times yow show 
 
 A tolerable spice, too, of the devil. 
 
 Go to! The devil that despairs I deem 
 
 ( )f all piior creatures ])Oor in the extreme. 
 
FA US r. 
 
 SCENE VIII— Mai:oai:et's Ri.om. 
 MAHf!Ai;i':'r (n/ licr s/viiiiiiii;-:o/ieel alone''. 
 
 My peace is gone, 
 
 My heart is sore ; 
 'Tis gone for ever 
 
 And evermore. 
 
 Where he is not, 
 
 Is the grave to me, 
 The whole world's changed. 
 
 Ah, bitterly. 
 
 I sit and I ponder 
 
 One only thought, 
 My senses wander. 
 
 My brain's distraught. 
 
 My peace is gone. 
 
 My heart is sore ; 
 'Tis gone for ever 
 
 And evermore. 
 
 E'rom my window to greet him 
 
 I gaze all day, 
 I stir out, if meet him 
 
 I only may. 
 
 His noble form, 
 His bearing high, 
 
 His mouth's sweet smile. 
 His mastering eye ; 
 
 And the magic flow 
 Of his talk, the bliss 
 
 In the clasp of his hand. 
 And oh ! his kiss ! 
 
 My peace is gone, 
 My heart is sore ; 
 
 'Tis gone for ever 
 And evermore. 
 
 For him doth my bosom 
 Cry out and pine ; 
 
 Oh, if I might clasp him 
 And keep him mine ! 
 
 And kiss him, kiss him. 
 As fain would I, 
 
 I'd faint on his kisses. 
 Yes, faint and die ! 
 
104 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 SCENE IX.— Mautiia's Gahiii:n. 
 
 Maugai!et, Faust. 
 
 MakoajiI':'!'. 
 Promise me, Henry ! 
 
 Faust. 
 What I can, 1 will. 
 
 Mahgaket. 
 
 Flow do you stand about religion, say r 
 
 You are a thoroughly good man, but still 
 
 I fear, you don't think much about it any way. 
 
 Faust. 
 Hush, hush, my child! You feel I love you, — 
 
 good ! 
 For those I love could lay down life, and would. 
 No man would I of creed or church bereave. 
 
 MAKfiAlUO'l'. 
 
 That is not right ; we must ourselves believe. 
 
 Must we ? 
 
 Faust. 
 
 MAlIflARET. 
 
 Ah! could I but persuade you, dear! 
 You do not even the sacraments revere. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Revere I do. 
 
 Makoaret. 
 
 But seek them not, alas ! 
 For long you've never gone to shrift or mass. 
 Do you believe in God ? 
 
 Faust. 
 
 I do believe in 
 
 ge, and their reply 
 to mystify. 
 
 God ? You may 
 Ask priest or sage 
 Will only seem 
 And mock you. 
 
 Love, who dare say. 
 
FA US T. 
 
 105 
 
 MAHOAliET. 
 
 Then you don't believe? 
 
 Faust. 
 
 My meaning, darling, do not misconceive. 
 
 Him who dare name ? 
 
 Or who proclaim, ■ 
 
 Him I believe? ' 
 
 Who feel, • - . . . 
 
 Yet steel 
 
 Himself to say; Him I do not believe? 
 
 The All-Embracer, 
 
 The AU-Sustainer, 
 
 Embraces and sustains He not 
 
 Thee, me, Himself? 
 
 Rears not the heaven its arch above? 
 
 Doth not the firm-set earth beneath us lie? 
 
 And with the tender gaze of love 
 
 Climb not the everlasting stars on high ? 
 
 Do I not gaze upon thee, eye to eye ? 
 
 And all the world of sight and sense and sound, 
 
 Bears it not in upon thy heart and brain, 
 
 And mystically weave around 
 
 Thy being influences that never wane? 
 
 Fill thy heart thence even unto overflowing. 
 
 And when with thrill ecstatic thou art glowing, 
 
 Then call it whatsoe'er thou wilt, 
 
 Bliss ! Heart ! Love ! God ! 
 
 Name for it have I none ! 
 
 Feeling is all in all ; 
 
 Name is but sound and smoke. 
 
 Shrouding heaven's golden glow ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 All this is beautiful and good ; just so 
 The priest, too, speaks to us at times. 
 In words, though, somewhat different. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 So speak the hearts of all men in all climes, 
 O'er which the blessed sky is bent, 
 
 On which the blessi^d light of heaven doth shine, 
 Each in a language that is his ; 
 Then why not I in mine ? 
 
 MAKflARET. ■ 
 
 To hear you speak, it looks not much amiss, 
 But still there's something, love, about it wrong; 
 For Christian you are not, I see. 
 
 Dear child ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 My heart has ached for long, 
 To see you in such company. 
 
 How so ? 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 The man, that is your mate. 
 Wakes in my inmost soul the deepest hate. 
 In all my life not anything 
 Has given my heart so sharp a sting, 
 As that man's loathsome visage grim. 
 
 Faust. 
 Nay, dearest, have no fear of him. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 His presence makes my blood congeal. 
 
 Kindly to all men else I feel ; 
 
 But howsoe'er for you I long. 
 
 From that man with strange dread I shrink 
 
 That he 's a knave I needs must think. 
 
 God pardon me, if I do him wrong! 
 
 Faust. 
 Such odd fish there must always be. 
 
io6 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 Maroaket. 
 
 I would not live with such as he. 
 
 Whenever he conies, he's sure to peer 
 
 In at the door with such a sneer, 
 
 Half angry-like with me. 
 
 That he in no one thing takes part, is clear ; 
 
 On his brow 'tis written, as on a scroll. 
 
 That he can lo\e no human soul. 
 
 I feel so happy within thy arms, 
 
 So free, so glowing, so fearless of harms. 
 
 But in his presence my heart shuts to. 
 
 Faust. 
 You sweet, foreboding angel, you ! 
 
 MARfiAUET. 
 
 It masters me in such a way, 
 
 I even think, when he comes near. 
 
 That I no longer love you, dear. 
 
 If he were by, I never could pray. 
 
 And that eats into my heart ; you, too, 
 
 Must feel, my Henry, as I do. 
 
 Patst. 
 'Tis mere antipathy you bear. 
 
 Now I must go. 
 
 Mahcauet. 
 
 Facst. 
 
 Oh, can I ne'er 
 Hang one shorts hour in quiet on thy breast. 
 Bosom by bosom, soul in soul caressed? 
 
 MAKflAKET. 
 
 Ah, if I only slept alone ! To-night 
 
 I'd lea\-e the door upon the latch, I would. 
 
 But mother sleeps so very light. 
 
 And, were we caught by her, I sliould 
 
 Drop dead upont he s]iot, I \-ow. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 She need not know, thou angel, thou ! 
 Here is a phial ! Let her but take 
 Three droijs of this, and it will steep 
 Nature in deep and pleasing sleep. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 What would I not do for thy sake? 
 Thou'rt sure, it will not do her harm ? 
 
 Faitst. 
 Would I advise it, else ? 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 There's some strange charm. 
 When I but look on you, that still 
 Constrains me, love, to do your will. 
 I have already done so much for you. 
 That scarce aught else is left for me to do. [Exit. 
 
 Enter Mepuistopheles. 
 
 MEPniSToPHEEES. 
 
 The silly ape ! Is't gone ? 
 
 Fau.st. 
 
 So, then. 
 Thou hast been playing spy again ? 
 
 Mepuistopheles. 
 
 I heard distinctly all that passed. 
 
 ^'ou had. Sir Doctor, tirst and last, 
 
 A stiffish dose of catechising. 
 
 I'm sure, I hope 'twill do you good ! 
 
 It certainly is not surprising. 
 
 These silly-pated wenches should 
 
 Be ahva\s anxious to disco\er. 
 
 If in his prayers and pace their lover 
 
 Jogs on the good old humdrum way. 
 
 "If pliable in that," think they, 
 
 "Us too he'll placidly obey." 
 
FACST. 
 
 107 
 
 Faust. 
 Thou monster, thou dost not perceive, 
 How such a loving faithful soul, 
 Full of her faith, which is 
 To her the one sole pledge of endless bhss. 
 Is racked by pious anguish, to believe 
 Him that she dotes on doomed to everlasting dole. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 Thou supersensual sensualist, a flirt, 
 A doll, a dowdy, leads thee by the nose. 
 
 Faust. 
 Thou vile abortion thou of fire and dirt ! 
 
 ^Iepiiistopheles. 
 "What skill in physiognomy she shows ! 
 She turns she can't tell how, when I am present ; 
 This little mask of mine, it seems, reveals 
 Meanings concealed, but certainly unpleasant ; 
 That I'm a genius, past mistake she feels ; 
 The devil's self, perhaps, for aught she knows 
 Well, well, to-niglit 1 
 
 Faust. 
 What's that to you r 
 
 Mepiiist(ipiii-;les. 
 Oho 1 In that I have my pleasure, too. 
 
 O2 
 
ACT IV. 
 
 SCENE I.— At the Well. 
 
 Majuiauet and Bicssy ivitli pitchers. 
 
 Bessy. 
 What! Barbara? Not heard the news of her? 
 
 Mahgaket. 
 Not I. Across the door I rarely stir. 
 
 Bessy. 
 
 Oh, never doubt it ! 
 
 To-day Sibylla told me all about it 1 
 
 She's made a rare fool of herself at last. 
 
 This comes of her fine airs and flighty jinks ! 
 
 Makgaket. 
 How so ? 
 
 Bessy. 
 It won't keep down. That's long, long past. 
 She feeds for two now, when she eats and drinks. 
 
 Maeoaeet. 
 
 Alas ! 
 
 Bessy. 
 
 She's rightly served, the jade ! 
 For all the fuss she with the fellow made ! 
 Such gadding here, such gadding there, 
 At village wake, at dance, and fair; 
 Must he first fiddle, too, everywhere ; 
 He was treating her always with tarts and wine. 
 Set up for a beauty, she did, so fine. 
 And yet was so mean, and so lost to shame. 
 She took his presents, though, all the same. 
 And then the hugging, and the kissing ! 
 So the upshot is, her rose is missing. 
 
 Marcai^et. 
 
 Poor thing ! 
 
 Bessy. 
 What ! Pity her, and her sinning ! 
 When any of us was at the spinning, 
 Mother kept us indoors after dark. 
 But she was so sweet upon her spark, 
 
FA US r. 
 
 109 
 
 On the bench by the door, and in the dark walk, 
 No hour was too long for their toying and talk. 
 So her fine fal-lals now my lady may dock, 
 And do penance at church in the sinner's smock. 
 
 MARfiAIiET. 
 
 But he will make her his wife, of course ! 
 
 Bessy. 
 
 A fool if he did ! A lad of mettle 
 
 Can have lots of choice, or ever he settle. 
 
 Besides, he's off. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 How could he do it ? 
 
 Bessy. 
 If she should get him, she's sure to rue it. 
 The boys will tear her garland, and we 
 Strew chopped straw at her door, you'll see. [E.v//. 
 
 Maroaret (,^>vv//v" home). 
 What railing once rose to my lip, 
 If any poor girl made a slip ! 
 My tongue hard words could scarcely frame 
 Enough to brand another's shame. 
 It looked so black, that blacken it 
 Howe'er I might, they seemed unfit 
 To stamp its blackness infinite. 
 I blessed myself and my nose up tossed, 
 And now I, too, in sin am lost. 
 And yet, — and yet alas! the cause, 
 God knows, so good, so dear, it was ! 
 
FA US T. 
 
 SCENE II. — Zv 
 
 /;/ f//c niche of the wall a devotional image of tlic Mater D<_ilorosa, 
 and in front of it pots of floiaers. 
 
 With anguish eyeing 
 Thy dear Son dying, 
 The sword that pierced His heart 
 in thine, 
 
 Thou to the Father gazest. 
 And sighs upraisest, 
 ! For His and for thy mortal pine. 
 
 Oh, who can feel, as thou, 
 
 Thy agony, that now 
 
 Tears rae and wears me to the bone! 
 
 How this poor heart is choked with tears. 
 
 All that it yearns for, all it fears, 
 
 Thou knowest, thou, and tliou alone ! 
 
 Still wheresoe'er 1 go, 
 
 What woe, what woe, what woe 
 
 \ placing fresh flowers in tite po/s). 
 
 Is in my bosom aching ! 
 When to my room I creep, 
 I weep, I weep, I weep ; 
 My heart is breaking. 
 
 The bow-pots at my window 
 
 I with my tears bedewed. 
 
 When o\-er tliem at morn, to pluck 
 
 These flowers for thee, I stood. 
 
 Brightly into my chamber shone 
 The sun, when dawn grew red ; 
 Already there, all woebegone, 
 I sat upon my bed. 
 
 Help, sufferer divine! 
 
 Save me, oh save 
 
 From shame and from the grave ! 
 
 And thou, the sorest 
 
 Pangs that borest. 
 
 On mine look down with countenance benign ! 
 
FAUST. 
 
 SCENE III.— Night. 
 Street in front of Mahdahet's tioor. 
 
 Valentine. 
 
 At drinking-bouts, when tongues will wag, 
 
 And many are given to boast and brag, 
 
 When praises of their own pet dears 
 
 Were dinned by comrades in my ears. 
 
 And drowned in bumpers, I was able. 
 
 My elbow planted on the table, 
 
 To bide my time, and calmly stayed, 
 
 Listening to all their gasconade. 
 
 Then with a smile my beard I'd stroke, 
 
 And take a full glass in my hand ; 
 
 "Each to his fancy!" up I spoke, 
 
 "But who is there in all the land. 
 
 To match with my dear Gretel, — who 
 
 Is fit to tie my sister's shoe ?'' 
 
 All round the room there went a hum, 
 
 Hob, nob! Kling! Klang! "He's right!" they cried, 
 
 "Of her whole sex she is the pride." 
 
 Then all the boasters, they sat dumb. 
 And now — oh, I could tear my hair. 
 And dash my brains out in despair! — 
 Now every knave will think, he's free 
 To have his gibe and sneer at me ! 
 And, like a bankrupt debtor, I 
 At each chance word must sit and fry. 
 Smash them all up I might: what though? 
 I could not call them liars, — no! 
 
 What's here r Ha ! skulking out of view ? 
 If I mistake not, there are two. 
 If it be he, at him I'll drive ; 
 He shall not quit this spot alive ! 
 
 Enter Faust and MErHisT(.)FHELES. 
 
 Fadst. 
 How from the window of yon sacristy 
 The little lamp's undying flame doth glimmer, 
 While at the sides it flickers dim and dimmer, 
 And thicks the darkness round ! Ah me ! 
 Such midnight is it in my breast. 
 
FA US T. 
 
 MeL'IIISTiiI'IIELES. 
 
 And I feel like a tom-cat, love distressed, 
 
 That up fire-ladders slily crawls. 
 
 And steals on tiptoe round the walls ; 
 
 I burn with ([uite a virtuous glow. 
 
 Half thievish joy, half concupiscence, so 
 
 Does the superb Walpurgis Night 
 
 Already thrill me with delight. 
 
 Just one night more, 'tis here, and then 
 
 One gets some real fun again. 
 
 Faus'p. 
 
 IjOok ! What is that is glimmering there ? 
 The treasure rising to the upper air? 
 
 MErillSTOI'nELES. 
 
 Thou shalt ere long the pleasure test 
 Of digging up the little chest. 
 I took a squint at it to-night. 
 Such lion-dollars broad and bright ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 How ! Not a trinket ? Not a ring, 
 To deck her out, my love, my sweet ! 
 
 MEi'nisToi'in^LE,-;. 
 
 I think I saw with them a string 
 Of i)earls, or something just as neat. 
 
 Faus'I'. 
 
 'Tis well ! It vexes me to go 
 To her without some gift to show. 
 
 MeI'HISTI.iI'IIELES. 
 
 'Tis not a thing to feel dismay for, 
 
 To have some pleasure you don't pay for ! 
 
 Now heaven with stars is all aglow. 
 
 A genuine tidbit you shall hear ; 
 
 A moral song I'll sing her, so 
 
 More thoroughly to befool the dear. 
 
 {Sillies to the lute.) 
 
 Katrina, say, 
 
 What makes you stay. 
 
 Ere dawn of day. 
 
 Before your sweetheart's door so ? 
 
 Away, away ! 
 
 The springald gay 
 
 Lets in a May, 
 
 Goes out a May no more so ! 
 
 Walk still upright ! 
 
 If once you're light, 
 
 Why then. Good night ! 
 
 Poor things, 'twill ill bestead you. 
 
 Refrain, refrain ! 
 
 Let no false swain 
 
 Your jewel gain. 
 
 Till with the ring he wed )'ou ! 
 
 Valen'I'ixe U0/11///X for7cuir(f). 
 
 For whom are you caterwauling? Curst 
 Ratcatcher you ! Out, trusty whinger ! 
 To the devil with the jingler first. 
 Then packing after it send the singer ! 
 
 Mephistoeheles. 
 The lute is cracked! 'Tis ruined for the nonce. 
 
 Valentine. 
 Have at you ! Now to crack your sconce ! 
 
 Mei'iiistoimieles. (to Faust). 
 
 Tackle him, doctor ! Courage, hey ! 
 Stick close, and, as I bid you, do. 
 Out with your duster ! Thrust away ! 
 I'll do the parrying for you. 
 
 Then parry that ! 
 
 Valentine. 
 
 MeI'IIISTOI'HELES. 
 
 And wherefore not ? 
 
FAUST. 113 
 
 Valentine. 
 
 Mardaket (combii:; out). 
 
 That too! 
 
 Who's this, lies here? 
 
 MeI'1IIST(,)1'1IELES. 
 
 PeOI'LE. 
 
 Just so. 
 
 Your mother's son. 
 
 Valentine. 
 
 Mauoarkt. 
 
 I'd swear the devil fought ! 
 What say you, then, to that? My hand's benumbed. 
 
 Almighty God ! I am undone. 
 
 MEwiisToriiELEs {fo Faust). 
 
 Valentinu. 
 
 Thrust home ! 
 
 I'm dying ! Sooner done, than said. 
 Why, women, why do ye 
 
 Valentine. 
 
 Stand howling, whimpering there ^ I'm sped ! 
 
 Oh, oh ! 
 
 Come close, and list to me ! 
 
 \AIl come round liim. 
 
 MEPIIISTOrHELES. 
 
 Look, Gretchen! You're but young, — by far 
 Too shy and simple yet ! You are 
 
 The bumpkin has succumbed. 
 
 A bungler in your trade. 
 
 Let us be off ! We mu.st evaporate ! 
 
 Soft in your ear a friendly hint ! 
 
 The hue and cry is up ! Hark ! What a clatter ! 
 
 You are a whore ; so never stint, 
 
 With the police I might make things all straight, 
 
 But be right out a jade. 
 
 But with the courts 'tis quite another matter! 
 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Maktha {af ic'indow). 
 
 Brother ! Great God ! What mean you ? 
 
 Help ! Murder ! 
 
 Valenti.ne. 
 
 MAiifiAUET [at windoKi). 
 
 Shame ! 
 Out of your antics leave God's name! 
 
 Help! A light! A light! 
 
 What's done, alas the day! is done, 
 
 
 And you must run the cdurse of sin. 
 
 Maktiia (as before). 
 
 You on the sly begin with one, 
 
 They brawl and scuffle, shout and fight. 
 
 But several soon come trooping in, 
 And, once you to a dozen fall so. 
 
 People. 
 
 Soon all the town will have you also ! 
 
 Here's one of them already dead. 
 
 When shame is born, she's to the light 
 
 Maktiia {coming out). 
 
 Brought stealthily 'mid grief and fears, 
 And she is in the veil of night 
 
 The murdering villains ! Have they fled ? 
 
 Wrapped over head and ears 
 
114 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 Yea, folks would kill her an they might, 
 
 But grown, as grow she will apace. 
 
 She flaunts it in the broad daylight, 
 
 And yet she wears no fairer face. 
 
 Nay, it grows uglier every way, 
 
 The more she seeks the light of day. 
 
 I see the time — 'tis coming — when 
 
 Each honest-hearted citizen, 
 
 As from a plague-infected corpse. 
 
 Will turn aside from thee, thou whore I 
 
 Thy heart will fail thee with remorse, 
 
 When people look thee in the face. 
 
 No more thou'It wear a golden chain ; 
 
 Nor stand in church by the altar floor, 
 
 Nor in a collar of dainty lace 
 
 Shine foremost at the dance again. 
 
 In some dark wretched nook thou'It hide, 
 
 With cripples and beggars and nought beside ; 
 
 And ewn though God forgiveness grant thee. 
 
 My curse upon the earth will haunt thee ! 
 
 Maktha. 
 
 Commend your soul to God ! Would you 
 La)' on it the sin of slander, too? 
 
 Valentine. 
 Thou shameless bawd, could I but smite 
 Thy wizened carcass, then I might 
 For all my sins of every kind 
 Full absolution hope to find. 
 
 MARflAEET. 
 
 Oh brother ! Rack me not, oh, pray ! 
 
 Valentine. 
 
 Have done with tears ! Have done, I say ! 
 To honour when you bade farewell, 
 You dealt my heart its heaviest blow. 
 Now like a soldier, stout and fell. 
 Through Death's long sleep to God I go. 
 
FA US r. 
 
 "5 
 
 3'^ 
 
 SCENE IV. — Catiiedkal. 
 
 Sehvr'e, Organ and Antuem. 
 
 Makcaret aino/i,i;st a number of people. 
 Evil Spirit behind her. 
 
 Evil Spirit. 
 Flow different, Margaret, was't with thee, 
 When thou, still, still all innocence, 
 Camest to the altar here, 
 And from the well-thumbed little book 
 Didst prattle prayers, that were 
 Half childish playfulness, 
 Half God within the heart, 
 Margaret ! 
 
 P2 
 
u6 
 
 FA US r. 
 
 How is it with thy head? 
 
 AVitliin thy heart 
 
 \\'hat guiltiness ? 
 
 Art praying for thy mother's soul, that slept 
 
 Away to long, long agonies through thee? 
 
 Upon thy threshold whose the blood? — 
 
 And 'neath thy heart stirs not 
 
 What now is quickening there, 
 
 And \\'ith its Ijoding presence racks 
 
 Itself and tliee? 
 
 Makgaret. 
 Woe ! Woe ! 
 
 Oh could I rid me of the thoughts. 
 That, spite of me, 
 Come rushing o'er my brain ! 
 
 CnoiK. r . ' I ,' 
 
 Dies ircT, dies ilia 
 Solvd sacliiin infavillal [Organ plays. 
 
 E\IL SriRIT. 
 
 Horror lays hold on thee ! 
 The judgment-trumpet sounds ! 
 The graves rock to and fro ! 
 And thy heart, from 
 Its ashy rest 
 Incorporate anew 
 For fiery pangs. 
 Shudders into life ! 
 
 Mahgahet. 
 Would I were out of this ! 
 I feel as though 
 The organ choked my breath. 
 As though the anthem drew 
 The life-blood from my heart ! 
 
 '. ' "' Choir. 
 
 Judex ergo cum sedebif, v 
 
 Quidquid latet.^ adparehit, 
 Nil inultum reniancbit. 
 
 - .Mahgahet. 
 
 It feels so close ! 
 The pillars of the wall 
 Press in upon me, 
 The arches of the roof 
 They weigh me down! — Air! 
 
 Evil Spirit. 
 
 Hide thyself! Sin and shame 
 Will not be hidden. — 
 , Air ? Light ? 
 Woe to thee! 
 
 '.M 
 
 A 
 
 Choir. 
 
 ; ii~ 
 
 A 
 
 
 
 -^"1 
 
 .\: 
 
 Xiy-^' 
 
 Quid sum miser tunc dicturus? \' c V' 
 
 ■>■/ '-■" " • 
 Qucm patronum rogalitrus ? 
 
 Cum 7VX Justus sit securus ? 
 
 Evil Spjrit. 
 
 From thee the saints in bliss 
 Their faces turn away. 
 To reach their hands to thee 
 Makes the pure shudder ! Woe ! 
 
 Ch((ir. 
 Quid sum miser tunc dicturus'i 
 
 Margaret. 
 Neighbour ! Your smelling-bottle ! 
 
 [SlCiOOUS. 
 
FA US I". 
 
 117 
 
 bCENE v.— W Au I I oi'. Night. 
 Tub Hakz Muuntain.s. DiSTuicx ur Sciiirke 
 
 AND El^liND. 
 
 Faust, MErmsTornELES. 
 
 MeI'HISTOI'IIELES. 
 
 Do you not wish, you had a broomstick, friend? 
 Oh, for a he-goat, rough, and tough, and strong ! 
 We're still a long way from our journey's end. 
 
 Fatst. 
 
 This knotted staff's enough for me, so long 
 As I feel fresh upon my legs. What boots 
 To cut our journey short, howe'er it lags ? 
 To thread this maze of valleys all at rest. 
 And then to clamber up to yonder crags. 
 From which the fountain ever-babbling shoots, 
 'Tis this which gives our journey all its zest. 
 The birchen spray is kindling with the spring, 
 And even the dull pines feel its quickening ; 
 Shall it not also make our limbs more brisk? 
 
iiS 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 MEI'IIISTDrilELICS, 
 
 Ot that I feel no trace, nor will. 
 
 My both' is all winter-chill. 
 
 \\ uuld that our path lay o\'er Irost and snow! 
 
 How sadly the red moon's imperfect disk 
 
 Moves up the sky with her belated glow, 
 
 And gives so iiad a light, that we run bump 
 
 At every step against some rock or stump I 
 
 B)' yoiu jiermission, I will hail 
 
 A \\"ill-o'-\Visp. (Jut there 1 see 
 
 One burning merrily. So ho. 
 
 My friend! Will you before us sail? 
 
 Why will you waste your lustre so r 
 
 Pray be so kind, as light us upward here. 
 
 WlLL-(.i'-WlSP. 
 
 Out of respect I'll struggle to repress, 
 And hope I may, my natural tlightiness. 
 A zigzag course we're rather apt to steer. 
 
 MeI'IIISTOI'HELES. 
 
 Ha, ha ! He fain would imitate mankind. 
 Hold, in the devil's name, straight on, or, mind, 
 I'll blow )our flickering life out ! 
 
 WlEL-..'-WlsI.. 
 
 'Twould appear, 
 That you are master of the hijusehold here, 
 So I'll essa)- to do your bidding rightlw 
 But mind ! the mountain's magic-mad to-day, 
 And if a Will-o'-\Visp's do light the way, 
 \o\i must not deal with him too tighth-. 
 
 F.vusT. Mei'histopiieles, a/hi "Wile-o'-Wisp. 
 [In altcniatiii;:; ^ong-) 
 
 Now we're in the sphere, I deem. 
 Of enchantment and of dream. 
 Lead us on, thou meteor-gleam. 
 Lead us rightl\", and apace, 
 To the deserts \"a3t of space! 
 
 See, only see, tree after tree, 
 
 How thick and swift behind they drift, 
 
 And crag and clift make mop and mow, 
 
 And tlie long-snouted crags below. 
 
 Hark, how the\" snort, and how they blow ! 
 
 0\"er moss and oxer stone. 
 
 Brook and brooklet race along. 
 
 ^\'hat noise is that, around, abo\'e ? 
 
 Hark, again ! The sounds of song, 
 
 Loxers lamenting and making moan, 
 
 Loosing their laden hearts in sighs, 
 
 Voices we knew in the days that are flown, 
 
 U'hen to li\"e and to lo\-e were paradise r 
 
 All that we hope for, all that we love. 
 
 Throbs in the heart and thrills in the brain, 
 
 And fabling Echo, like the tale 
 
 Of olden times, o'er hill and dale 
 
 Reiterates the strain ! 
 
 Tu-wdtit! Tu-whoo! More near, mcjre near! 
 
 The jargon rises shrill and clear. 
 
 The owl, the pewit, and the jay, 
 
 All awake and abroad are they ? 
 
 Be these salamanders there. 
 
 Long of leg, and huge of paunch, 
 
 That go striding through the brakes r 
 
 Lo, the great roots, gaunt and bare. 
 
 How from rock and bank they branch ! 
 
 \\'reathed like intertangling snakes. 
 
 In coils fantastic, through the air 
 
 They stretch to scare and to ensnare us. 
 
 From wart-like knots, with life instinct, 
 
 Darting polyp-tibres, linked 
 
 To enmesh and oxerbear us ! 
 
 And see! the mice of every hue. 
 
 How they hustle, and how thev speed. 
 
 Through the moss and through the heather! 
 
 Up and iJown the fireflies, too. 
 
 Flit and flicker, thronged together. 
 
 To bewilder and mislead ! 
 
 But what means this glamour? Sav, 
 Which is mox'ing, we or they ? 
 
FAUST. 
 
 119 
 
 All about us seems to spin, 
 Rocks and trees, that gape and grin, 
 And Will-o'-Wisps, that, low and high. 
 Flare, and flash, and multiply. 
 
 Mf.itiistijpuelics. 
 
 Grasp my skirt, and hold it tight. 
 Here's a central peak, where we 
 May with eyes of wonder see 
 The mountain all with Mammon brigb.t. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Through chasm and cleft how strangely gleams 
 
 A dull red light as of the dawn ! 
 
 Down to the very depths it streams. 
 
 Where gloomiest abysses yawn. 
 
 There clouds and e.xhalations rise. 
 
 Here from the mists light glimmers soft, 
 
 Now like fine threads it winds and plies, 
 
 Then like a fountain leaps aloft. 
 
 Here in a hundred veins it coils, 
 
 For many a rood, the valley through, 
 
 There, shut within yon gorge's toils. 
 
 In sparkles scatters out of view. 
 
 Near us, like sprinkled sand of gold, 
 
 .\re flame-sparks strewn upon the air, 
 
 And now, through all its height, behold. 
 
 The wall of rocks is kindling there ! 
 
 MErHis'nu'inor.ES. 
 
 Doth not Sir Mammon rarely light 
 His halls up for our sports to-night? 
 Lucky, you've seen it ! I can hear, 
 E\en now his boisterous guests are near. 
 
 Fai'st. 
 
 How through the air the storm -blast ra\es and 
 
 hisses! 
 It smites my neck, shock after shock. 
 
 Mepuistoi'iieles. 
 
 Vou'U have to clutch the old ribs of the rock. 
 
 Or it will hurl }-ou down to yon abysses. 
 
 O'er the midnight a thick mist broods. 
 
 Hark to the crashing through the woods ! 
 
 To and fro, the boughs between, 
 
 The aftrighted owlets flit. 
 
 Hark, the columns, how they split, 
 
 Of the palaces evergreen ! 
 
 Hear the branches straining, snapping. 
 
 The giant tree-stems' mighty moaning, 
 
 The huge roots \-awning, creaking, groaning; 
 
 Each across the other clapping, 
 
 Down they crash, and thunder all. 
 
 In mad and intertangled fall : 
 
 And through the clift's with ruin strewn 
 
 The wild winds whiz, and howl, and moan. 
 
 Voices o'er us dost thou hear' 
 
 Voices far, and \oices near? 
 
 All the mountain-range along 
 
 Streams a raving Witches' song. 
 
 WiTCUEs (/// i-/ion/s). 
 
 The Witches are for the Brocken bound,— 
 The stubble is yellow, the blade is green, — 
 There shall a mighty throng be found. 
 Sir Urian seated aloft between. 
 Right over stock and stone they go. 
 Beldame ami buck-goat, hilloah, hilloah ! 
 
 .\ Voice. 
 
 Old Baubo comes alone ; astride 
 A farrow- sow bcl-iol<l her ride! 
 
 Cnoitrs. 
 
 To whom is honour due be honour ! 
 Dame Baubo, advance, and lead the way! 
 A sturdy sow, with a dame upon her. 
 Is guide full meet for our troop so gay. 
 
FA US T. 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 _4/.<^' 
 
 
 
 
 ^^^^ ''3/'? 
 
 
 I 7 ? ^^My^ 
 
 00' 3- 
 
 
 A Voice. 
 What road came you by ? 
 
 A Voice. 
 
 By Ilsenstein. 
 I peeped, as I passed on my midnight prowl, 
 
 Into the nest of the horned owl ! 
 
 And didn't she open her eyes on mine? 
 
 A Voice. 
 
 To hell with you, old weason-face ! 
 Why are you riding at such a pace? 
 
FAUST. 
 
 A Voice. 
 
 She grazed me as she passed. Just see, 
 The jade, how she has wounded me ! 
 
 Witches' Ciiiirus. 
 
 The way is wide, the way is long. 
 Is this not a jolly bedlam throng ? 
 The pitchfork pricks, and the broom it 
 
 scratches. 
 The babe is stifled, the mother she hatches. 
 
 WlZARHi 
 
 Half-Ciioius. 
 
 We crawl like snails ; the womenkind 
 Have left us far and far behind ; 
 For woman, when to hell she rides, 
 Outstrips us by a thousand strides. 
 
 Other Half. 
 
 That's not at all the way we view it. 
 She takes a thousand strides to do it, 
 But, post howe'er she may, the man 
 Does it at once in a single span. 
 
 A V(jice (above). 
 From Felsensee, come away, come away ! 
 
 Voices (front fi/'/oio). 
 
 Up through the sky we fain would fly. 
 
 We've washed, and we're clean, as clean may be, 
 
 But barren for evermore are we. 
 
 Both Choruses. 
 
 The wind is down, and the stars are flown. 
 The wan moon hides her woe-worn face. 
 Along the dark shoot flame and spark. 
 To mark the wizard's roaring chase. 
 
 Voice ifnmi I'clow). 
 Hold hard! Hold hard! Behind I'm left. 
 
 Voice {from above). 
 Who is calling there from the rocky cleft? 
 
 A V(jicE {frovi bu'loio). 
 
 Oh, take me with you ! Three hundred year 
 Have I been climbing, climbing here. 
 But never can I the summit gain. 
 To be with my fellows I were fain. 
 
 Both Choruses. 
 
 Besom and broomstick, he-goat and prong, 
 All are good to whisk you along ; 
 And surely the wight is in doleful plight, 
 Who cannot mount in the air to-night. 
 
 DEMi-WiTi.:n [from bebiTo). 
 
 I've been tottering after this many a day. 
 And the rest are already so far away ! 
 No peace have I at home, and here 
 I'm likely to light on no better cheer. 
 
 Chorus of Witches. 
 
 'Tis ointment puts heart in the witches' crew. 
 
 Any fluttering rag for a sail will do. 
 
 Any trough make a stout shij) to scud through 
 
 the sky. 
 Who flies not to-night, he will never fly. 
 
 Both Choruses. 
 
 And when you have got to the mountain's crest. 
 Drop to the ground, where it likes you best, 
 And cover the moorland all round about 
 With the weltering swarm of your wizard rout ! 
 
 [T//ey descend. 
 
 Meimilstofiieles. 
 
 Here's jamming, jolting, jabbering, justling. 
 Here's whizzing, whirling, babbling, bustling! 
 Here's flashing, sparkling, stinking, burning. 
 All things topsy-turvy turning ! 
 The real hurly-burly, which is 
 Very meat and drink to witches ! 
 Stick close by me, or we shall be 
 Swept asunder presently. 
 Where art thou ? 
 

 1 
 
 
 122 FAUST. 
 
 
 Fatjst (in the i/ishi/ice). 
 
 MEinilSTOlTIELES. 
 
 
 Here! 
 
 And many a riddle be knotted, too. 
 
 
 Let the great world go brawling on ! Aside 
 
 
 
 We'll tarry here in cpiiet out of view. 
 
 
 Mni'lUSTdl'IIELES. 
 
 With men the custom is of ancient date. 
 
 
 Ha! Steady, steady! 
 
 To make themselves small worlds within the great. 
 
 
 Wliat ! torn away so far alread)' ? 
 
 Young witche.s yonder I espy. 
 
 
 Tlien is it time, I should make clear 
 
 As naked as their mothers bore 'em. 
 
 
 My right as lord and master here. 
 
 And old ones, too, that, wisely shy. 
 
 
 Room for Sir Voland, room, 1 say ! 
 
 Have veiled their charms with true decorum. 
 
 
 My most sweet people, please, make way ! 
 
 For my sake, now, be civil to them all. 
 
 
 Here, doctor, here, take hold of me. 
 
 The pastime's great, the trouL)le small. 
 
 
 And let us at a bound get free 
 
 Hark ! Listruments a-tuning ! Curse 
 
 
 Of this wild rabble, and its din there. 
 
 Upon their blowing and their scraping ! 
 
 
 'Tis too mad even for such as I. 
 
 Come on, come on ! There's no escaping ; 
 
 
 Tliere's something shining there hard by. 
 
 We must submit, or suffer worse. 
 
 
 With lustre quite peculiar. Look ! 
 
 I'll step before and introduce you ; so 
 
 
 Yon bushes seem a quiet nook. 
 
 Will under further obligation lay you. 
 
 
 Come, come along! Let us slip in diere ! 
 
 Look here, look here, my friend ! How say you? 
 No squeezed-up shabby ball-room this, no, no! 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Look onward there ! You scarce can see the end. 
 A hundred fires are burning, row on row. 
 
 
 Spirit of contradiction ! Well, well, lead the way ! 
 
 They dance, they cliat, cook, drink, make love. 
 
 
 Yet 'tis a splendid notion, I must say ; 
 
 In short. 
 
 
 To Brocken we on Mayday night repair. 
 
 Where, let me ask, will you find better sport? 
 
 
 To keep aloof from all, when we get there. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 
 MiOI'IllSTOIMUCLES. 
 
 Will you, in ushering us into their revel. 
 Present yourself as wizard, or as devil? 
 
 
 What many-coloured flames ! Just see, 
 
 
 
 Tlnere is a jovial company ! 
 
 MEl'IUSTOrnELES. 
 
 
 One's not alone, liowever few the folk. 
 
 My general rule's to play incognito. 
 On gala-days, howe\er, one may show 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 One's orders. With no garter am I decked, 
 But here the horse hooPs held in high respect. 
 
 
 Lip yonder I would rather be. 
 
 Dost see yon snail come crawling up? 'Tis clear. 
 
 
 Already flames and whirling smoke 
 
 Her tentacles already have found out. 
 
 
 1 see ascending, and the throng. 
 
 There's something more than common hereabout. 
 
 
 That to the Evil Spirit's lair 
 
 Even if I would forswear myself, I could not here. 
 
 
 Tumultudusly swee])S along! 
 
 But come along ! From fire to fire we'll go : 
 
 
 There would I be, for surely there 
 
 I will the pander be, and you the beau. 
 
 
 Will many a riddle be untied. 
 
 [ To some, 'lolio aie seatei! round cxpirhi^ ejiihers. 
 
 ■ " "" 1 
 
FA US T. 
 
 Old gentleman, what is the reason, pray. 
 
 You sit so far from all the mirth away r 
 
 I'd think, you showed more wisdom, if I found you 
 
 Right in the thick of it in jovial mood, 
 
 With lots of brisk young wenches dancing round 
 
 you. 
 At home one has enough of solitude. 
 
 Genkral. 
 Who can trust a nation's truth, 
 
 Though from ruin he may save her? 
 For, just as with the women, youth 
 
 With them stands always first in favour. 
 
 MlNIRTEK. 
 
 Folks now have all gone far astray. 
 
 The good old times ! that is my creed. 
 For when we'd things all our own way. 
 
 That was the golden age indeed. 
 
 Parvenu. 
 No fools were we, yet I allow. 
 
 We often did the things we should not. 
 But all's turned topsy-turvy now, 
 
 Just when we most desired it would not. 
 
 Adtuor. 
 
 Who, as a rule, will now rea<l aught, 
 That has the least pretence to thought? 
 
 And, as for the young people, they 
 Grow sillier, perter, every day. 
 
 Mei'UIS'J'OI'ueees {lo/io all at once appears 
 very I'lil). 
 Mankind, I feel I may assume. 
 Are ripened for the day of doom, 
 Now that I here for the last time 
 The Mountain of the Witches clirnb : 
 My cask runs muddy, and one sees 
 The world is also on the lees. 
 
 A Wi'i'cn {-li'lio traffics in aid odds and ends). 
 Come, gentle folks, don't pass me so ! 
 Why throw a chance like this away? 
 Observe my wares ; so choice a show 
 Is what you don't see every day. 
 Within my shop, sirs, there is nought — 
 A shop like it you'll nowhere find — 
 But has its proper mischief wrought 
 Unto the world and to mankind. 
 
 Qz 
 

 
 
 
 124 FAUST. 
 
 
 Here is no dagger, but has run with gore ; 
 
 Faust. 
 
 
 No chalice, but from it has flowed 
 Hot shrivelling poison through each pore, 
 Which, till it came, with health had glowed : 
 No trinket, but to shame it has betrayed 
 
 Yonder sit two, an old witch and a young ; 
 But now tliey danced like mad, and wlieeled, and 
 flung. 
 
 Some woman born to be beloved ; no blade, 
 
 MlU'HISTorUEEES. 
 
 
 But has been drawn for treasons fell and black. 
 Or stabbed a foe, perchance, behind his back. 
 
 No rest from that to-night ! They start anew 
 Come, take a partner ! We must foot it, too. 
 
 
 Mni'msToniELES. 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 Coz, coz, you're quite behind the age. 
 
 Fai'ST {jidllC/ll^i; K'illl a XOllll;^ witill). 
 
 
 For what it wants you have no feeling. 
 
 I dreamed a dream, was sweet to see ; 
 
 
 Now novelties are all the rage ; 
 
 In it I saw an apple-tree. 
 
 
 In these, then, you should take to dealing ! 
 
 And on it shone fair apples two, 
 
 I climbed to pluck them, where they grew. 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 
 
 Grant that I may not lose my wits ! Was e'er 
 
 The F.iin C),ne. 
 
 
 In all the universe so strange a Fair ! 
 
 From Eden downwards, you've, in sooth. 
 For pippins had a liquorish tooth. 
 
 
 MEI'lllST(.H'UELIiS 
 
 It glads my very heart to know, 
 
 
 To reach the top the whole mad throng are 
 
 That such within my garden grow. 
 
 
 striving. 
 'Tis you are driven, and yet you think you're 
 
 MicrniSTOiMUCLEs [jcitli tlic old one). 
 
 
 driving. 
 
 I dreamed a dream, was wild to see ; 
 
 Faust. 
 
 In it I saw a cloven tree. 
 
 
 Who, who is that ? 
 
 It had a ' * ' ' ' " 
 " ■ as it was, I fancied it 
 
 
 Me1'H1ST(J1>HELES, 
 
 
 
 Observe her well. 
 
 The Old One. 
 
 
 'Tis Lilith. 
 
 With deepest reverence I salute 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 The cavalier of the horse's foot. 
 
 
 Who r 
 
 If at a ' ■ he does not scare, 
 Let him * ' ' straight prepare. 
 
 
 MEI'niSTOPIIELES. 
 
 
 
 Adam's first wife Beware 
 
 PuoK'J'OI'lIAiNTAS.MIST. 
 
 Of her and of her beauteous hair ! 
 
 Confound your impudence ! Have we to you 
 
 Wherein she doth all women else excel. 
 
 Not proved long since by reasons most complete, 
 
 A young man once let her with that ensnare, 
 
 That spirits never stand on ordinary feet? 
 
 It is a mesh he'll find it hard to tear. 
 
 i 
 
 Yet here you dance, as common mortals do. 
 
 1 
 
^% 
 

 - - - - - - — 
 
 . — --. 
 
 
 FAUST. 125 
 
 
 The Faie One [i/ain-inx). 
 
 Meimiistoimieles, 
 
 
 
 What brings him to our ball, now? 
 
 Straight in a puddle he will squat ; 
 He always soothes himself witli that. 
 
 
 
 Falist [i/aiiii/i;^'). 
 
 And when the leeches have grown plump 
 
 
 
 Oh! 
 
 Upon the juices of his rump. 
 
 
 
 He's everywhere, and always so. 
 
 He's cured, and without more ado. 
 
 
 
 What others dance he must apprise. 
 
 Of spirits, and of spirit, too. 
 
 
 
 Each step, he cannot criticise. 
 
 fZ'c Kaist, 7c/ui /lasli-fl liw J<i/n\\ 
 
 
 In his conceit's no step at all. 
 
 Why have you left the pretty wench, that sang 
 
 
 The thing, that most excites his gall. 
 
 So sweetly to you in the dance? 
 
 
 
 Is onward motion. If you would 
 
 
 
 
 In circles keep revolving still. 
 
 Faust, i 
 
 
 As he does in his ancient mill. 
 
 
 
 No doubt he'd say, all right and good ! 
 
 Ugh ! from her mouth a red mouse sprang. 
 
 
 And that especially, provided 
 
 Even while she sang. 
 
 
 You owned you were by his opinion guided. 
 
 Mia'uiS'i'oi'UELics. 
 
 
 PkoKTOI'I I ANTASM 1ST. 
 
 A lucky chance ! 
 About such things vve're not too nice. 
 
 
 Still at it ! 'Tis past bearing ! Vanish hence ! 
 
 It was not grey, let that suffice. i 
 
 
 What ! in these days of high intelligence ! 
 
 Who cares for trifles such as this. 
 
 
 This devilish crew despise all rule. We boast 
 
 When on the very brink of bliss? 
 
 
 
 Our great good sense, yet Tegel has its ghost. 
 
 
 
 
 The years, heaven knows how many, I have been 
 
 
 
 
 Sweeping out such delusions piece by piece ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 
 
 But never will the human mind be clean. 
 
 Then I saw — 
 
 
 
 'Tis labour lost — such follies never cease. 
 
 MeITIISTOI'IIELES 
 
 What ? 
 
 
 
 TuE Faih One. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 
 Then cease to bore us here. Give place ! 
 
 IMephisto, seest thou there. 
 Far off, alone, a girl, jjale, pale and sweet? 
 
 
 PkoKTOIHAiN'TASMIST. 
 
 She drags herself along, and with the air 
 
 
 I tell you, spirits, to your face, 
 
 Of one that makes her way with shackled feet. 
 
 
 I'll not endure this spirit-tlirall ! 
 
 It cannot, cannot be; and yet 
 
 
 
 My spirit cannot manage it at all. 
 
 She minds me of sweet Margaret. 
 
 
 
 [T/ic da.'iiiiii; pvicc-ds. 
 
 
 
 
 No one to-night, I see, my word regards. 
 
 MEI'nlSTOl-nELES. 
 
 
 
 My journey for my pains have I; 
 And still I hope, before I die. 
 
 Don't look that way ! It can do nought but scaith. 
 
 
 To put a curb on devils and on bards. 
 
 'Tis but a magic shape, a lifeless wraith. 
 
 ! 
 
 
 _ 
 
126 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 It is not u'L'll tf> meet siu li anywhere. 
 It curdles uji man's blood by its cold stare, 
 And by it he is turned to stone well-nigh. 
 Thou'st heard, of course, of the Medusa. 
 
 Fmist. 
 
 Ay; 
 
 riie eyes of one that's dead, in sooth, are those. 
 Which tiiere has been no loving hand to close. 
 That is the breast, Margaret gave up to me, 
 Those the sweet limbs, whose touch was ecstasy. 
 
 MEl'IUSTOl-nELES. 
 
 Thou ready gull, therein the sorcery lies. 
 
 To all that love she wears the loved one's guise. 
 
 Faust. 
 Wliat bliss ! What torture ! From that stare 
 i\Iyself away I cannot tear. 
 How strangely does a thin red line, 
 No thicker than a knife's back, fleck 
 Tlie marble of licr lovely neck ! 
 
 MEi'nis'j'ornELios. 
 Right ! I too see it, thin and fine ! 
 Beneath her arm, too, she can carry 
 Her head, for Perseus cut it oft', poor soul. 
 Pshaw ! Evermore the visionary ! 
 Come on with me to yonder knoll ; 
 The Prater's self is not more gay. 
 And, if I'm not bewitched, I see 
 A real theatre. What's doing, hey? 
 
 Seiivibieis. 
 They recommence immediately. 
 'Tis a new piece, the last of seven. To play 
 That number is the custom here. 
 The piece was written by an amateur. 
 And amateurs perform it. You'll, I'm sure, 
 Forgive me, if I disappear ; 
 It is my office, on these days. 
 The curtain, sirs, cii amateur to raise. 
 
 MEI'niSTOl'iUiLES. 
 
 I'm truly charmed to see you here : 
 
 The Blocksberg's just your proper sphere. 
 
FA US T. 
 
 127 
 
 OR, OBERON AND TITANIA'S 
 GOLDEN WEDDING. 
 
 INTERMEZZO. 
 
 Manager of the Theatre. 
 Carnival to-day we hold, 
 
 Miediiiic^s children true we, 
 All our scenery, mountain old. 
 
 Valley dank and dewy ! 
 
 Hekald. 
 Golden is the wedding, when 
 
 Fifty years have rolled on, 
 But, the feud once over, then 
 
 Golden it will hold on. 
 
 OnERON. 
 
 Fairies, if ye haunt this ground. 
 
 Here do homage duly, 
 For your king and queen are bound 
 
 In love's fetters newly. 
 
 Puck. 
 Pack, when he begins to spin. 
 
 And foot it in the dingle. 
 After him troop hundreds in. 
 
 With his mirth to mingle. 
 
 AlilKI.. 
 
 Ariel with his silver song 
 Divine fills all the air, too. 
 
 Many frights to hear it throng, 
 Many that are fair, too. 
 
 OliBKON. 
 
 Learn ye, whom the marriage-bond 
 Has not made one-hearted. 
 
 If you'd make a couple fond. 
 Only have them parted. 
 
128 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 TlTAMA. 
 
 Is lie all snarl, and she all \\'hini, 
 Upon them seize instanter, 
 
 Away to the South Pole with him, 
 And at the North Pole plant her ! 
 
 Oi;ciiepti;a [tn/li fortissiiiui). 
 
 Fly's proboscis, midge's nose. 
 And what to these akin are, 
 
 Prog and shrilling cricket, thfise 
 Pur\"evors of our din are. 
 
 Siil.u. 
 
 See where, a soaii-bubble sa( k, 
 'Phe bagpipe, it is coming ! 
 
 Hark the Schnecke-Schnicke-Schnack, 
 'i'hrough its snulj-nose humming ! 
 
 Sr'iTiiT I ///(?/ is fas/iioi/iiix' itsrlf\. 
 
 Paunch of toad and spider's foot, 
 With little wings below'em, 
 
 Make not, 'tis true, a little brute. 
 But make a little poem. 
 
 A Paii; (II- LovEii.s. 
 
 Tin)' stepj and loft\" leap 
 
 'J'hrough honeydew and vapours ; 
 Yet up in air you do not su'eep, 
 
 Desjiite of all your capers. 
 
 IxQur^iTivE Traveller. 
 
 Is this Glamour, to fade anon r 
 Shall I belie\e my sight, to 
 
 See the fair god Oberon 
 
 Here with us to-night, too? 
 
 Oktiioim.ix. 
 
 No claws ! No tail 1 And yet, I wis, 
 
 Undoubtedl)' the fact is, 
 'Phat, like the gods of Greece, he is 
 
 A devil in his iiractice. 
 
 NoKTiiKRN Artist. 
 
 My things at present, to be sure, 
 
 Are sketchy and unsteady. 
 Still I for the Italian tour 
 
 Betimes am getting ready. 
 
 PrRIST. 
 
 'Tis ill luck brings me here : this crew, 
 Their din grows loud and louder, 
 
 AnrJ of the whole witch-medley two, 
 And only two, wear powder. 
 
 YoixG Witch. 
 
 Powder is, like petticoat, 
 
 For beldames old and ugly, 
 
 So I sit naked on my goat, 
 And show my bod\" smugly. 
 
 Matkiin. 
 
 With you we're too well-bred b)' far 
 To squabble on the spot, !Miss ; 
 
 But, young and tender as you are, 
 I hopje that you may rot, Miss. 
 
 Leader or the Band. 
 
 Fly's proboscis, midge's nose, 
 
 These nude folk buzz not round so, 
 
 Frog and shrilling cricket, close 
 In, keep time, and sound so ! 
 
FA rsr. 
 
 I 2g 
 
 Weathercock \Jowarih one side). 
 
 More brilliant throng could heart desire : 
 All brides, young, iresh, and acti\'e ! 
 
 And younkers, full of blood and fire, 
 A medley most attractive. 
 
 Weathercock {toiuartis the uilicr side). 
 
 Well, if the ground here shall not gape, 
 These all to swallo\Y plump down. 
 
 Right oft", their antics to escape, 
 I'll into hell-pit jump duwn. 
 
 Xenien. 
 
 See us here as insects ! Ha ! 
 
 With nebs small, sharp, and slitting. 
 To render Satan, our papa, 
 
 High homage, as befitting. 
 
 Hennings. 
 
 See, how they crowd, and cheer the fun 
 
 Of every kind that's started ! 
 They'll e\-en say, ere all is done, 
 
 That they are kindly-hearted ! 
 
 Muscyet. 
 
 Itself among this witches' rout 
 
 My fancy gladly loses ; 
 For I could manage them, no doubt. 
 
 More readily than the Muses. 
 
 Ci-devant Geniu.s of the Time. 
 
 Cling to my skirts ! Whate'er betide. 
 Our worth will somewhere class us ; 
 
 The Blocksberg's summit's broad and wide. 
 Like Germany's Parnassus. 
 
 L\i;risiTivE Traveller. 
 
 Who is yon stift starched fellow, say. 
 With stride so pompous walking? 
 
 He sniff's and snifts where'er he may, 
 " 'Tis Jesuits, he is stalking!'' 
 
 Crane. 
 
 In troubled streams, as well as clear, 
 
 'Tis my delight to angle ; 
 So )'0u see pious people here 
 
 With devils mingle-mangle. 
 
 \\'OKLDLING. 
 
 Ves, nothing can the pious daunt. 
 This place as good as any ; 
 
 Upon the Blocksberg here they plant 
 Con\enticles a-many. 
 
 Dancer. 
 
 Hark, far-oft' drums! Sure, some new throni. 
 
 Is in the distance looming ! 
 Oh, never mind ! It is among 
 
 The reeds the bitterns booming ! 
 
 Daxcing Master. 
 
 Oh, how they fling, and jig, and flop. 
 Each capering as he best can, 
 
 The crooked skip, the clumsy hop. 
 To foot it, as the rest can. 
 
 Fiddler. 
 
 Though mingling thus, this rabble crew 
 For hate would like to rend them ; 
 
 As Orpheus' lyre together drew 
 
 The beasts, the bagpipes blend them. 
 
FA US T. 
 
 DtW.iJIATIST. 
 
 Critic or sceptic shall not throw 
 
 A doubt on my ideals ; ' 
 'I'hc devil must he something, though, 
 
 i)x hovv' could devils be else? 
 
 Idf.alist. 
 
 The fancy, that doth work in me, 
 For once much too intense is ; 
 
 In sooth, if I be all 1 see. 
 To-night I've lost my senses. 
 
 ( )h, entities a world of strife 
 And torment do entail me ; 
 
 Here for the hrst time in my life 
 I fuid my footing fail me. 
 
 Suri;HNATljl!ALlST. 
 
 I'm quite enchanted with this scene. 
 Its babble and confusions, 
 
 For as to angels I can e'en 
 From devils draw conclusions. 
 
 SC'KI"J'1C. 
 
 Upon the llaiuelet's track they roam. 
 And think the treasure near is ; 
 
 Here I am jjerfectly at home, 
 b'or doubt the devil's fere is. 
 
 LioAumi iiF 'j'liE Band. 
 
 Frog and shrilling cricket, those 
 Confounded dilettanti ! 
 
 Fly's pjroboscis, midge's nose, 
 You're fine musicanti ! 
 
 Tjih Kn'owino Ones. 
 
 SaJis sin/ii, they call us so. 
 Us jolly dogs, that troll out ; 
 
 To walk on foot is now no go. 
 So on our heads we stroll out. 
 
 Tmo MALADKorr Onks. 
 
 Ah ! many rare good things, 'tis true. 
 
 We had of yore a hand in ; 
 But, oh ! our pumps are danced quite through, 
 
 And we're on bare soles standing ! 
 
 Wiix o' 'ruE Wisrs. 
 
 We come fresh from our native haunts, 
 From bogs and from morasses. 
 
 But who, of all these gay gallants, 
 In glitter can surpass us ? 
 
 Stakflakh. 
 
 I shot down hither from on high, 
 A star-fire sheen all o'er me ; 
 
 Now prostrate on the ground I lie. 
 Who'll to my legs restore me r 
 
 Tuio Massive Ones. 
 
 Room ! Rocjm '. A lane there ! Clear the way 
 The grass snaps, where we jumj) once ; 
 
 Fo! spirits come; but spirits diey, 
 With bodies, ay, and plump ones ! 
 
 Puck. 
 
 Tread not, I beg, so heavily, 
 Fike young calves elephantine ; 
 
 And let stout Puck the plumpest be 
 To-night our fairy haunt in ! 
 
FA US T. 
 
 Ariel. 
 
 If you have wings, boon Nature's gift, 
 Then, ere our revel closes, 
 
 Away with me by grove and clift 
 Up to yon hill of roses ! 
 
 OiiciiBS'J'HA [pianissinio). 
 
 On trailing cloud, and wreathed mist, 
 
 A sudden light has kindled ; 
 'Trees, sedges wliist, a breeze has kissed. 
 
 And all to air have dwindled ! 
 
 K2 
 
ACT V. 
 
 SCENE I. — A Gloomy Day. Oi'en Country. 
 
 Fai'S']', MEI'lUSTOrilELES. 
 
 Faust. 
 In Misery ! In Despair ! After long wandering 
 wretched to and fro, to be now in prison ! She, 
 that gentle ill-starred being, immured as a male- 
 factor in a dungeon, to wait a frightful doom ! 
 And it has come to this ! to this ! Treacherous, 
 worthless Spirit, and tliou hast kept this from 
 me! — Ay, stand there, stand! Roll thy fiendish 
 eyes in savage wrath ! Stand and defy me by 
 thy intolerable presence ! A prisoner ! in irreme- 
 diable misery ! Given over to wicked spirits, and 
 to the merciless judgment of men ! And me, 
 me wert thou all the while lulling into forgetful- 
 ness , with vapid dissipations hiding her hourly 
 increasing wretchedness from me, and leaving 
 her to perish without help. 
 
 MElTnS'rOPOELBS. 
 
 She is not the first. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 liound ! Detestable monster! Change him, thou 
 infinite Spirit, change the reptile once more into 
 that semblance of a dog, in which he often 
 dehghted to gambol before me at night, to double 
 
 liimself up at the feet of the harmless wayfarer, 
 and , if he fell , to fasten his fangs upon his 
 shoulders. Change him again into his favourite 
 shape, that he may crawl on his belly in the dust 
 before me, that I may spurn him with my feet, 
 accursed as he is! — Not the first! — Wo! Wo! 
 Not by the soul of man is it to be coiriprehended, 
 how more than one human creature has sunk to 
 such a depth of misery, —how the first did not in 
 its writhing death-agony make satisfaction for all 
 the rest before the eyes of Him that evermore 
 forgives ! The misery of this single soul pierces 
 my very marrow, eats into my life ; thou grinnest 
 complacently at the fate of thousands ! 
 
 Meuuistopiteles. 
 
 Now are we once more at our wit's end, strung 
 to that pitch, at which the reason of you mortals 
 snaps. Why do you make fellowship with us, if 
 you cannot be one of us out and out? Will you 
 fly, yet are not proof against dizziness ? Did we 
 force ourselves on you, or you on us ? 
 
 Faust. 
 Gnash not thy ravening teetli against me thus! 
 I'm sick of it! — Great and sublime Spirit, thou 
 wlio didst deign to reveal thyself to me, thou who 
 
FA US T. 
 
 knowest my heart and my soul, why Hnk me to 
 this infamous yoke-fellow, who feeds on mischief, 
 and battens on destruction ? 
 
 MEl'UXSTOrUJiLES. 
 
 Mast done ? 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Save her ! or woe to thee ! The awfullest 
 of curses smite thee for myriads of years ! 
 
 MEl'IlISTOi'llULES. 
 
 I cannot loose the bonds of the avenger, nor 
 undo his bolts. — Save her! — Who caused her 
 ruin ? I or thou ? [Faust looks luildly roiiiid?\ 
 Wouldst grasp the thunder? 'Tis well, it was not 
 given to you miserable mortals. To crush the 
 first innocent man he comes across, that is just 
 the tjTant's way of making a clearance for him- 
 self out of a difiiculty 
 
 Faust. 
 Take me where she is ! She shall be free ! 
 
 MErillSTOPUELES. 
 
 And the danger which you run ? Remember 
 the guilt of blood, slied by your hand, still lies 
 upon the town. Avenging spirits hover over the 
 spot where the victim fell , and lie in wait for 
 the returning murderer ! 
 
 Faust. 
 This too from thee? A world's murder and 
 death upon thee, Monster ! Conduct me thither, 
 I say, and set her free ! 
 
 MEI'UIST(JI'nELIOS. 
 
 I will conduct thee ! Hear what I can do ! 
 Have I all power in heaven and on earth ? I 
 will cast a glamour over the gaoler's senses; do 
 you possess yourself of his keys, and bear her 
 oft" with mortal hands. I shall watch outside. 
 My magic horses shall be ready to carry you 
 away. This much I can do. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Up and away ' 
 
 
 
134 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 SCENE II.— NirillT. OriON CUNTKV. 
 
 1''ai_s'|', iMiii'iJisTuriiKLKS, sioccpini; aloii}; iin black horses. 
 
 Fai;st. 
 WjiA'r weave ihey yonder round tlie Ra\'enstoner 
 
 Mci'lllSTol'IIELKS. 
 
 Can'l tell, what mess they have in hand. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 They wave up, they wave down, they are swaying 
 and stooping. 
 
 Mi:pnisT(jr'iu;LEs. 
 A Witches' Guild. 
 
 r'AisT. 
 
 They strew and make libation. 
 
 Mei'iiistopiieles. 
 Push on ! Push on ! 
 
FA US r. 
 
 1 1 -^. 
 
 SCENE III. -A DuN(^E,>N. 
 
 Faust 7ivV// ,r bmulle of keys, before a small 
 iron door. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 I yuAKK with a strange dread. The woe of all 
 Mankind possesses me. This is her cell ! 
 Here does she lie behind this cold dank wall, 
 And all her crime was having loved too well. 
 Why do I hang back thus ? Is't fear, 
 To think how I again shall see her? 
 Onward ! Each moment's pause firings nearer 
 
 her death-knell. 
 
 [Opei:iiix the loek. A voice is liearJ 
 ic'itliin si//i;'i/!X- 
 
 My motlier, the wanton, 
 
 She took my life. 
 
 My father, the rogue, 
 
 ,\te me up witli liis knife ! 
 
 My wee little sister, 
 
 She picked up my bones. 
 
 And laid them to cool 
 
 All under the stones. 
 
 Then I turned to a woodbird, 
 
 So bonnie to see; 
 
 Fly away, fly away 
 
 I'o the woodland with me! 
 
 FAi'sr [if ens tlic lioor). 
 
 Slic little dreams, that her beloved is near, 
 The rattling chains, the rustling straw can Inear. 
 
 [//c enters. 
 
 M.VROARET ( ///,////;■- Iier J ace on Iter pallet). 
 They come! (Jh bitter death! Oli woe is me! 
 
 Faust [sofflv). 
 Hush ! hush ! I come to set thee free ! 
 
136 
 
 F.I US r. 
 
 Maroaret {tliroK'iii:^ herself at /lis feet) 
 If thou lie'st human, feci fur my distress ! 
 
 Fai'SI'. 
 
 'I'hcju'll wake the sentinels! These cries repress 
 [ Takes hold of tier fetters to unlock tlicm. 
 
 MAiifiAHKT {on. Iter knees). 
 
 Who, hangman, who has given you right, 
 
 To treat me thus- or who could give r 
 
 You fetch me, while 'tis yet midnight. 
 
 Oil pity me, and let me live ! 
 
 Is daybreak to-morrow not soon enougli ? {Rises. 
 
 Oh, I am still so young, so young, 
 
 And yet must die ! 
 
 Fair, too, they told me, once was I, 
 
 And that was my undoing. He was nigh, 
 
 My own dear love, in those sw'eet hours. 
 
 But now he's far away from me. 
 
 My wreath is torn, and scattered are its llowers. 
 
 Seize me not with a grasji so rough ! 
 
 Spare me, what have I ever done to thee r 
 
 (Jh let me not in vain im])lore! 
 
 I never saw thee all my days before. 
 
 Faust. 
 Can I survive this miserable hour? 
 
 Mahcahet. 
 
 Now I am wholly in your power, 
 
 To do with me whate\'er you think best ; 
 
 But to the babe first let me give the breast ! 
 
 All through the night I coa.xed and stilled it : 
 
 They took it from me to vex my brain. 
 
 And now they say, I would have killed it, 
 
 And never shall I be blithe again. 
 
 The people, they sing songs about me. 
 
 To sting me, and flout me. 
 
 Ah ! they mean me unkindly liy it ; 
 
 An old tale ends so. Who bade them apply it? 
 
 Fau.st {Jlinxs liiniself on the gronml). 
 
 'I'liy lover here lies prostrate at thy feet, 
 To rend these miserable bonds, my sweet ! 
 
 MAUiiAHiiT {t/iroios licrsclf hx his sldc}. 
 
 Oh let us kneel to call upon the saints 1 
 
 Look ! Look ! Under the stair ! 
 
 Under the door there, 
 
 The fires of hell. 
 
 They seethe, and they roar there ! 
 
 The fiend within, 
 
 Furious and fell. 
 
 Is making a din ! 
 
 Fais'i-. 
 Margaret ! Margaret ! 
 
 MAi;cAKi7r ilistenin};). 
 
 That was my loved one's \oice ! 
 
 [She s/'r/ni;s up — her fetters fall off. 
 Where is he? Where? I heard him call. 
 I'm free ! I'm free ! Let no one try 
 I'o stay me ! On his neck I'll fall. 
 Upon his bosom lie ! 
 
 He called on Margaret! stood there at the door! 
 Through all hell's howling and its roar. 
 Through devilish scoff, and gibe, and groan, 
 I recognized the sweet, the loving tone ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Tis I! 
 
 Makoaret. 
 
 Thou, thou ! Oh say it once again ! 
 Clasping him. 
 'Tis he, 'tis he! Where now are all my pains? 
 The anguish of the dungeon ? Of the chains ? 
 'Tis thou ! Thou com'st to rescue trie ! Oh then, 
 Then I am saved. Oh, now again 
 
FA US r. 
 
 137 
 
 Where first I met with thee ; 
 
 Am in the cheerful garden, by the gate, 
 
 Where for thee I and Martha wait. 
 
 Faust (trying to force her arcav). 
 Come with me ! Come ! 
 
 RIaegaket. 
 
 Oh stay! 
 I like so much to stay, love, where thou stay'st. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Quick, quick, away ! 
 
 Oh, if thou wilt not haste. 
 
 We shall rue dearly the delay ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 Flow's this ? 
 
 Thou canst no longer kiss? 
 Parted from me so short a time, and yet 
 Thou couldst the way to kiss forget? 
 Why do I grow so sad upon th)- bosom now. 
 
138 
 
 FAUST. 
 
 When from thy words, thy looks, in other days 
 
 A whole heaven flooded me, and thou 
 
 Didst kiss, as thou wouldst stifle me, always ? 
 
 Kiss me, or I'll kiss thee ! 'yEmhraccs him. 
 
 Oh, woe is me ! 
 
 Thy lips are cold, they chill me through. 
 
 How ! not one word ! Where hast thou left 
 
 Thy love ? Oh, who 
 
 Has thy poor Margaret of that bereft ? 
 
 \Tunis aiaav from him. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Come, follow me ! Take courage, oh my sweet ! 
 I'll clasp thee to my heart, when this is o'er, 
 A thousand times more fondly than before. 
 So thou'lt but follow me. Hence, I entreat ! 
 
 MARfiARET (tiiniiiig to him). 
 And is it thou, then, tliou ? And is this true ? 
 
 Faust. 
 Oh yes ! Come ! Come ! 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 My chains thou wilt undo. 
 Take me again into thy breast! — So, so! 
 How comes it, that thou shrinkest not from me ? 
 Oh my sweet love, dost thou, then, know 
 Whom thou art setting free? 
 
 Faust. 
 Come ! Come ! The night's already on the wane ! 
 
 Maroahet. 
 
 My mother 1 have slain. 
 And drowned my child ! To thee 
 The little one was given, and me ; 
 To thee, love, too! 'Tis thou! Oh, can it be ? 
 Give me thy hand ! Yes ! Yes ! these are no 
 dreams, — 
 
 Thine own dear hand But, woe is me ! 'tis wet ! 
 
 How ! dripping, dripping yet ? 
 
 How it doth run ! 
 
 Oh wipe it off! Meseems, 
 
 There's blood upon't ! Ah God ! what hast thou 
 
 done ? 
 Put up thy sword ! Oh sheathe it, I implore ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Let what is past be past ! I can no more. 
 Each word thou speak'st is death to me. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 No, I must go, but thou must stay. 
 
 I will describe the graves to thee: 
 
 To-morrow thou to them must see 
 
 By break of day. 
 
 For mother the best place provide. 
 
 Then to her lay my brother nearest; 
 
 Me a little to one side, 
 
 But not too far off, dearest ! 
 
 x-^nd the little one on my breast to the right ! 
 
 No one else shall lie by me. 
 
 Ah, love, to nestle up to thee, 
 
 It was a sweet, a dear delight ! 
 
 But that I never again shall know. 
 
 I have a feeling as if I must 
 
 Hang, cling to thee, and thou didst thrust 
 
 Me back — back— back ! Yet, wherefore so? 
 
 Thou art, thou lookest, so good, so kind ! 
 
 Faust. 
 If such thou feel'st I am, come, come, love ! 
 
 Out yonder: 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 F'aust. 
 Out to the open air! 
 
 Where ? 
 

 — 
 
 
 
 F 
 
 41/ST. 139 
 
 
 MAIlOAKIiT. 
 
 
 Mai;(i.\i;kt. 
 
 
 If the grave is there, 
 
 
 Oh, were we only past tlie hill ! 
 
 
 If death is waiting, come! 'Tis best. 
 
 
 There sits my mother ui)on a stone ; 
 
 
 From here into the bed of everlasting rest. 
 
 
 My temples throb with an icy dread. 
 
 
 And not a step beyond ! Ah me ! 
 
 
 There sits my mother upon a stone ; 
 
 
 Thou'rt going? Henry, if I might with tliee ! 
 
 
 And to and fro slie waves her head : 
 Her eyes are set, she makes no moan, 
 
 
 
 Fai'st 
 Thou canst! Decide I Sec, open stands the door. 
 
 
 Her hand is heavy as lead. 
 Slie slept so long, no more she'll wake ; 
 She slept, that we our delight might lake ; 
 That was a happy time ! 
 
 
 
 Maiuiauet. 
 
 
 
 
 
 I dare not go. For me all hope is o'er. 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 
 
 What boots to fly? Beset with si)ies am I. 
 
 
 Tliou'rt deaf to all remonstrance, jjrayer. 
 
 
 
 It is so hard to have to beg your way. 
 
 
 And 1 perforce must bear thee hence. 
 
 
 And with an evil conscience harder still; 
 
 
 
 
 It is so hard in a strange land to stray, 
 
 
 MAitcAnin'. ; 
 
 
 And they will catch me, do whate'er I will. 
 
 
 Unhand me ! Cruel one, forbear ! 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 
 I will endure no violence. 
 
 Lay not this munlerous grasp on me. 
 
 
 Then I remain with thee ! 
 
 
 Time was, I gave up all t(j pleasure thee! 
 
 
 Marciaukt. 
 
 
 Faust, 
 
 1 
 
 
 Fly, fly! 
 
 Thy child will die! 
 
 
 The day is breaking! Darling! Darling! 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 
 Save it ! oh save it ! 
 Away ! away ! 
 
 
 Mau(.;.\i!i;'i'. j 
 Ay! 
 
 
 Keep to the path. 
 
 Up by the brook, 
 
 And into the wood beyond ! 
 
 Strike to die left 
 
 By the plank in the pond ! 
 
 Quick ! Seize it, seize it ! 
 
 It tries to rise ! 
 
 It is struggling yet. 
 
 Help ! Help ! 
 
 
 The day, indeed ! The last day draweth nigh. 
 It sliould have been my w edding-day. Let no 
 
 one know, 
 That thou hast been widi Margaret before. 
 Woe to my garland, woe ! 
 Already all is o'er. 
 Love, we shall meet once more. 
 But not in the dance, air no ! 
 The multitude, they come ! 
 So hushed, you cannot hear the hum. 
 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 
 The lanes, the streets, the square 
 
 
 
 Be calm ! be still ! 
 
 Only one step, and thou art free ! 
 
 
 Scarce hold the thousands there. 
 The bell ! Hark to its boom ! 
 
 
 
 
 Sa 
 
14° 
 
 FA US T. 
 
 The staff of doom 
 
 Is broken. How they bind nic, bhnd nie! 
 
 Now to the seat of blood tlney drag nie off; 
 
 And every neck doth feel 
 
 The quiver of the steel, 
 
 That's iiui\ering for mine! 
 
 Now lies tlie \^'orld all silent as the grave. 
 
 Fai'st. 
 Oh that I never liad been born ! 
 
 Mi;i'iiis'i-(iriii-.LEs [apj^itirs df the door.) 
 
 Away ! 
 Away ! Or you are lost for ever ! 
 Truce to tliis waiting and prating, this bootless 
 
 delay ! 
 My horses shiver ! 
 The morning is dawning grey ! 
 
 iMaegahet. 
 What's that, sprang from the ground? I know 
 
 its face. 
 Send him away! 'tis he! 'tis he! 
 What sliould he do in a holy place? 
 He comes for me 
 
 Faust. 
 Thou shalt — must live ! 
 
 MAKGAItET, 
 
 Judgment of God ! 
 
 Myself unto Thy mercy I resign ! 
 
 MKI'JIISTorUELES (/(' F.vust\ 
 
 Come! Come! How's this? "\'ou will not stir? 
 I'll leave you in the lurch witli her. 
 
 M.VIiCiAriET. 
 
 Thine am I, Father, Thine ! 
 Save me ! Ye angels ! Ministers of light. 
 Compass me round witli your protecting might ! 
 Henry, I shudder as I think of thee. 
 
 She's judged. 
 
 MeI'UISTOI'UELES. 
 
 V(.)iCE [frojii al'ove). 
 She's saved. 
 
 MEi'msToruELES (to Fatst). 
 
 Away with me ! 
 [D/Si7/>/>i'(irs ivitli Faust. 
 
 Voice ( from loithiii, i/viiix aicay). 
 Henry ! FIenr\- !