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In its judgement, fulfillment of the order would involve violation of the copyright law. AUTHOR: GOETHE, JOHANN WOLFGANG VON TITLE: FAUST, A TRAGEDY A .L^/\ C^,-- i.lj • BOSTON DATE: 1864 COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES PRESERVATION DEPARTMENT Master Negative # BIBLIOGRAPHIC MICROFORM TARGET Original Material as Filmed - Existing Bibliographic Record r ^" G07 B79 Restrictions on Use: Faust, I, Goethe, Johann VVolfgang von, 1749-1832. Faust, a tragedy; translated from the German of Goethe, with notes by Charles T. Brooks. Fourth edition. Boston, Ticknor, 1864, 234 p. . J TECHNICAL MICROFORM DATA FILM SIZE:_3_^rfWA. IMAGE PLACEMENT: lA DATE FILMED: HLMEDBY: RESEARCH PUBLI REDUCTION RATIO; IIB g3__ INITIALS_/lJ^_: IONS. INC WOODBRIDGE. CT ,/.4 r Association for information and Image Management 1100 Wayne Avenue, Suite 1100 Silver Spring, Maryland 20910 301/587-8202 Centimeter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 liiiiliiiiliiM |m||j|iil|iiii|iiil|i'il[iiilm TTT llllllllllljlllllllllllllllllllllllllll TTT 8 Inches 1 1.0 1.25 ILJ 10 11 iiiiliiiillll 1^ III 2.8 2.5 -50 '"1 =^= 11111= i^yi 2.2 |A3 IS i^ 2.0 i;. »i u b;bu 1.8 1.4 1.6 12 13 iiiiliiiiliillll T| I 5 14 15 mm lllllllllllll MfiNUFfiCTURED TO flllM STRNDRRDS BY RPPLIED IMRGE, INC. U l|i^ 11 Wtm M,; i ^^B 1 1 £^ Hi >;t-*5» " -!iLW ^pniiii ^H^4*^E 1 B 1 ?ctiiM-?*i.iT^ifi ri..S^:i:i[.\. ! iliiif t*t?-:tgii >.i{t mm 1 "'.'• ' ^'r3Wi -J: : ^ ij£.;iif ^; ; ., Igl« ^^ ii MI'S ^^a ^3 ■ His ^bS (a 1 ^WK^ i i;f'; i!!t-,'- - .t^ THE LIBRARIES •N»r nr nr ; rv / / .^ /\yr ^ ff\A FAUST A TRAGEDY TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF GOETHE WITH NOTES BY CHARLES T BROOKS SIXTH EDITION . . BOSTON . ^ TICKrNQR A>U.B!EXDS MUC( CLXVI. rv f> 7 TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. o^^^oi^m^ Entered according to Act of Congress, In the year 1856, by Charles T. Brooks, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Rhode Island. From the Iibraby of Henry S. and Ji:iiana Haskel!. 1948 University Press: WELck, BiGii:©^*, ;ah'd Company, • ^ • / < . • • • » • . « 1 Perhaps some apology ought to be given to English scholars, that is, those who do not know German, (to those, at least, who do not know what sort of a thing Faust is in the original) for offering another transla- tion to the public, of a poem which has been already translated, not only in a literal prose form, but also, twenty or thirty times, in metre, and sometimes with great spirit, beauty, and power. The author of the present version, then, has no knowledge that a rendering of this wonderful poem into the exact and ever- changing metre of the original has, until now, been so much as attempted. To name only one defect, the very best versions which (5) 4 ■ O TRANSLATOR S PREFACE. he has seen neglect to follow the exquisite artist in the evidently planned and orderly Intermixing of male and female rhymes, /. e, rhymes which fall on the last syllable and those which fall on the last but one. Now, every careful student of the versification of Faust must feel and see that Goethe did not intersperse the one kind of rhyme with the other, at random, as those translators do; who, also, give the female rhyme (on which the vivacity of dialogue and description often so much depends,) in so small a proportion. A similar criticism might be made of their liberty in neglecting Goethe's method of alternating different measures with each other. It seems as if, in respect to metre, at least, they had asked themselves, how would Goethe have written or shaped this in Eng- Hsh, had that been his native language, in- stead of seeking con amore (and con Jidelita) as they should have done, to reproduce, both in spirit and in form, the movement, so free and yet orderly, of the singularly endowed and accomplished poet whom they under- took to represent. translator's preface. 7 As to the objections which Hayward and some of his reviewers have instituted in ad- vance against the possibility of a good and faithful metrical translation of a poem like Faust, they seem to the present translator full of paradox and sophistry. For instance, take this assertion of one of the reviewers: " The sacred and mysterious union of thought with verse, twin-born and immortally wedded from the moment of their common birth, can never be understood by those who de- sire verse translations of good poetry." If the last part of this statement had read " by those who can be contented with prose trans- lations of good poetry," the position would have been nearer the truth. This much we might well admit, that, if the alternative were either to have a poem like Faust in a metre different and glaringly different from the original, or to have it in simple and strong prose, then the latter alternative would be the one every tasteful and feeling scholar would prefer; but surely to every one who can read the original or wants to know how this great song sung itself (as Carlyle says) 8 TRANSLATOR S PREFACE. out of Goethe's soul, a mere prose render- ing must be, comparatively, a corpus mor^ tuum. The translator most heartily dissents from Hayward's assertion that a translator of Faust " must sacrifice either metre or mean- ing." At least he flatters himself that he has made, in the main, fnot a compromise between meaning and melody, though in certain instances he may have fallen into that, but) a combination of the meaning with the melody, which latter is so impor- tant, so vital a part of the lyric poem's meaning, in any worthy sense. " No poetic translation," says Hayward's reviewer, already quoted, "can give the rhythm and rhyme of the original; it can only substitute the rhythm and rhyme of the translator." One might just as well say "no prose translation can give the sense and spirit of the original ; it can only substitute the sense and spirit of the words and phrases of the translator's language;'' and then, these two assertions balancing each other, there will remain in the metrical translator's favor, that he may translator's preface. 9 come as near to giving both the letter and the spirit, as the effects of the Babel disper sion will allow. As to the original creation which he has attempted here to reproduce, the translator might say something, but prefers leaving his readers to the poet himself, as revealed in the poem, and to the various commen- taries of which we have some accounts, at least, in English. A French translator of the poem speaks in his introduction as fol- lows: "This Faust, conceived by him in his youth, completed in ripe age, the idea of which he carried with him through all the commotions of his life, as Camoens bore his poem with him through the waves, this Faust contains him entire. The thirst for knowledge and the martyrdom of doubt, had they not tormented his early years? Whence came to him the thought of tak- ing refuge in a supernatural realm, of ap- pealing to invisible powers, which plunged him, for a considerable time, into the dreams of Illuminati and made him even invent a religion? This irony of Mephistopheles, 10 TRANSLATOR S PREFACE. translator's preface. II who carries on so audacious a game with the weakness and the desires of man, is it not the mocking, scornful side of the poet's spirit, a leaning to sullenness, which can be traced even into the earliest years of his life, a bitter leaven thrown into a strong soul forever by early satiety ? The character of Faust especially, the man whose burning, untiring heart can neither enjoy fortune nor do without it, who gives himself uncondi- tionally and watches himself with mistrust, who unites the enthusiasm of passion and the dejectedness of despair, is not this an eloquent opening up of the most secret and tumultuous part of the poet's souH And now, to complete the image of his inner life, he has added the transcendingly sweet person of Margaret, an exalted reminiscence of a young girl, by whom, at the age of fourteen, he thought himself beloved, whose image ever floated round him, and has con- tributed some traits to each of his heroines. This heavenly surrender of a simple, good, and tender heart contrasts wonderfully with the sensual and gloomy passion of the lover, 1 who, in the midst of his love-dreams, is per- secuted by the phantoms of his imagination and by the nightmares of thought, with those sorrows of a soul, which is crushed, but not extinguished, which is tormented by the invincible want of happiness and the bitter feeling, how hard a thing it is to receive or to bestow." n DEDICATION.* Once more ye waver dreamily before me. Forms that so early cheered my troubled eyes I To hold you faft doth ftill my heart implore me ? Still bid me clutch the charm that lures and flics ? Ye crowd around 1 come, then, hold empire o'er me. As from the mift and haze of thought ye rise ; The magic atmosphere, your train enwreathing. Through my thrilled bosom youthful bliss is breathing. Ye bring with you the forms of hours Elysian, And shades of dear ones rise to meet my gaze ; Firft Love and Friendship fteal upon my vision Like an old tale of legendary days ; Sorrow renewed, in mournful repetition, Runs through life's devious, labyrinthine ways ; And, sighing, names the good (by Fortune cheated Of blis^ul hours !) who have before me fleeted. EDICATION. These later songs of mine, alas ! will never Sound in their ears to whom the firft were sung ! Scattered like duft, the friendly throng forever ! Mute the firft echo that so grateful rung ! To the ftrange crowd I sing, whose very favor Like chilling sadness on my heart is flung ; And all that kindled at those earlier numbers Roams the wide earth or in its bosom slumbers. And now I feel a long-unwonted yearning For that calm, pensive spirit-realm, to-day; Like an ^olian lyre, (the breeze returning,) Floats in uncertain tones my lisping lay ; Strange awe comes o'er me, tear on tear falls burning. The rigid heart to milder mood gives way ; What I possess I see afar off lying, And what I loll is real and undying. PRELUDE IN THE THEATRE. — ^*Q!©— Manager. Dramatic Poet, Merry Person, Manager. You who in trouble and diftress Have both held faft your old allegiance, What think ye .? here in German regions Our enterprise may hope success } To please the crowd my purpose has been fteady. Because they live and let one live at leaft. The pofts are set, the bbards are laid already. And every one is looking for a feaft. They sit, with lifted brows, composed looks wearing, Expeaing something that fhall set them ftaring. I know the public palate, that's confeft ; Yet never pined so for a sound suggeftion ^ True, they are not accuftomed to the beft. But they have read a dreadful deal, paft quefHon. How fhall we work to make all frefh and new. Acceptable and profitable, too ? (is) i6 PRELUDE IN THE THEATRE. For sure I love to see the torrent boiling. When towards our booth they crowd to find a place, Now rolling on a space and then recoiling, Then squeezing through the narrow door of grace : Long before dark each one his hard-fought ftation In sight of the box-office window takes. And as, round bakers* doors men crowd to escape ftarvation, For tickets here they almoft break their necks. This wonder, on so mixed a mass, the Poet Alone can workj to-day, my friend, O, show it! Poet, Oh speak not to me of that motley ocean, Whose roar and greed the fhuddering spirit chill ! Hide from my sight that billowy commotion That draws us down the whirlpool 'gainft our will. No, lead me to that nook of calm devotion. Where blooms pure joy upon the Muses* hill ; Where love and friendfhip aye create and cherifh, With hand divine, heart-joys *that never perifh. Ah ! what, from feeling's deepeft fountain spring- ing, Scarce from the ftammering lips had faintly passed. Now, hopeful, venturing forth, now (hyly clinging, To the wild moment's cry a prey is caft. Oft when for years the brain had heard it ringing It comes in full and rounded fhape at laft. What fhines, is born but for the moment's pleasure i The genuine leaves pofterity a treasure. PRELUDE IN THE THEATRE. 17 Merry Person. Pofterity ! I'm sick of hearing of it; Supposing I the/uture age would profit, Who then would furnifli ours with fun ? For it muft have it, ripe and mellow ; The presence of a fine young fellow, Is cheering, too, methlnks, to any one. Whoso can pleasantly communicate, Will not make war with popular caprices. For, as the circle waxes great. The power his word fliall wield increases. Come, then, and let us now a model see, Let Phantasy with all her various choir. Sense, reason, passion, sensibility. But, mark me, folly too ! the scene inspire. Manager. But the great point is aaion ! Every one Comes as speclator, and the fhow's the fun. Let but the plot be spun ofF faft and thickly, So that the crowd fhall gape in broad surprise. Then have you made a wide impression quickly, You are the man they'll idolize. The mass can only be impressed by masses ; Then each at laft picks out his proper part. Give much, and then to each one sonething passes. And each one leaves the house with happy heart. Have you a piece, give it at once in pieces ! Such a ragout your fame increases ; i8 PRELUDE IN THE THEATRE. It cofts as little pains to play as to invent. But what is gained, if you a whole present? Your public picks it presently to pieces. Poet. You do not feel how mean a trade like that must be 1 In the true Artift's eyes how false and hollow ! Our genteel botchers, well I see. Have given the maxims that you follow. Manager, Such charges pass me like the idle wind ; A man who has right work in mind Muft choose the inftruments moft fitting. Consider what soft wood you have for splitting, And keep in view for whom you write ! If this one from ennui seeks flight, That other comes full from the groaning table, Or, the worft case of all to cite. From reading journals is for thought unable. Vacant and giddy, all agog for v/onder. As to a masquerade they wing their way ; The ladies give themselves and all their precious plunder And without wages help us play. On your poetic heights what dream comes o'er you ? What glads a crowded house ? Behold Your patrons in array before you ! One half are raw, the other cold. PRELUDE IN THE THEATRE. '9 One, after this play, hopes to play at cards, One a wild night to spend beside his doxy chooses, Poor fools, wh)i court ye the regards, For such a set, of the chafte muses ? I tell you, give them more and ever more and more, And then your mark you'll hardly ftray from ever ; To myftify be your endeavor. To satisfy is labor sore What ails you ? Are you pleased or pained ? What notion — Poet. Go to, and find thyself another slave ! What ! and the lofty birthright Nature gave. The nobleil talent Heaven to man has lent, Thou bid'ft the Poet fling to folly's ocean ! How does he ftir each deep emotion ? How does he conquer every element? But by the tide of song that from his bosom springs. And draws into his heart all living things ? When Nature's hand, in endless iteration. The thread across the whizzing spindle flings. When the complex, monotonous creation Jangles with all its million firings : ^Vho, then, the long, dull series animatino-. Breaks into rhythmic march the soulless round ? And, to the law of All each member consecrating. Bids one majeflic harmony resound ? Who bids the tempefl rage with passion's power? T he earnefl soul with evening-redness glow ? 20 PRELUDE IN THE THEATRE. PRELUDE IN THE THEATRE. 21 Who scatters vernal bud and summer flowei Along the path where loved ones go ? Who weaves each green leaf in the wind that trem- bles To form the wreath that merit's brow fhall crown ? Who makes Olympus faft ? the gods assembles ? The power of manhood in the Poet fhown. Merry Person. Come, then, put forth these noble powers, And, Poet, let thy path of flowers Follow a love-adventure's winding ways. One comes and sees by chance, one burns, one flays. And feels the gradual, sweet entangling ! The pleasure grows, then comes a sudden jangling, Then rapture, then diftress an arrow plants. And ere one dreams of it, lo ! there is a romance. Give us a drama in this fafhion ! • Plunge into human life's full sea of passion ! Each lives it, few its meaning ever guessed. Touch where you will, 'tis full of intereft. Bright fhadows fleeting o'er a mirror, A spark of truth and clouds of error, By means like these a drink is brewed To cheer and edify the multitude. The faireft flower of the youth sit listening Before your play, and wait the revelation ; Each melancholy heart, with soft eyes gliftening. Draws sad, sweet nouriftiment from your creation ; This passion now, now that is ftirred, by turns. And each one sees what in his bosom burns. Open alike, as yet, to weeping and to laughter, They ftill admire the flights, they ftill enjoy the fhow ; Him who is formed, can nothing suit thereafter; The yet unformed with thanks will ever glow. Poet. Ay^ give me back the joyous hours. When I myself was ripening, too. When song, the fount, flung up its fhowers Of beauty ever frefli and new. When a soft haze the world was veiling, Each bud a miracle bespoke. And from their ftems a thousand flowers I broke. Their fragrance through the vales exhaling. I nothing and yet all possessed. Yearning for truth and in illusion bleft. Give me the freedom of that hour. The tear of joy, the pleasing pain, Of hate and love the thrilling power. Oh, give me back my youth again ! Merry Person. Youth, my good friend, thou needefl certainly When ambuflied foes are on thee springing. When lovelieft maidens witchingly Their white arms round thy neck are flinging. When the far garland meets thy glance. High on the race-ground's goal suspended. When after many a mazy dance •a 22 PRELUDE IN THE THEATRE. In drink and song the night is ended. But with a free and graceful soul To ftrike the old familiar lyre, And to a self-appointed goal Sweep lightly o'er the trembling wire, There lies, old gentlemen, to-day Your talk i fear not, no vulgar error blinds us. Ao-e does not make us childifh, as they say, O But we are ft ill true children when it finds us. Manager, Come, words enough you two have bandied, Now let us see some deeds at laft ; While you toss compliments full-handed, The time for useful work flies faft. Why talk of being in the humor? Who hesitates will never be. If you are poets (so says rumor) Now then command your poetry. You know full well our need and pleasure, We want ftrong drink in brimming measure j Brew at it now without delay ! To-morrow will not do what is not done to-day. Let not a day be loft in dallying, But seize the possibility Right by the forelock, courage rallying. And forth with fearless spirit sallying, — Once in the yoke and you are free. PRELUDE IN THE THEATRE. ^3 Upon our German boards, you know it. What any one would try, he may ; Then ftint me not, I beg, to-day, In scenery or machinery. Poet. With great and lesser heavenly lights make free, Spend ftarlight juft as you desire ; No want of water, rocks or fire Or birds or beafts to you fhall be. So, in this narrow wooden house's bound, Stride through the whole creation's round. And with considerate swiftness wander From heaven, through this world, to the world down yonder. PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. FThe Lord. The Heavenly Hosts ajtemvard Mephis- TOPHELES. Tie three archangels, Raphael, Gabriel, and Michael, come forward.'] Raphael The sun, in ancient wise, is sounding, With brother-spheres, in rival song i And, his appointed journey rounding, With thunderous movement rolls along. His look, new ftrength to angels lending. No creature fathom can for aye ; The lofty works, paft comprehending, Stand lordly, as on time's firft day. Gabriel. And swift, with wondrous swiftness fleet- ing, The pomp of earth turns round and round, The glow of Eden alternating With Juddering midnight's gloom profound } Up o'er the rocks the foaming ocean Heaves from its old, primeval bed. And rocks and seas, with endless motion. On in the spheral sweep are sped. PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. 25 Michael. And tempefls roar, glad warfare waging. From sea to land, from land to sea, And bind round all, amidll their raging, A chain of giant energy. There, lurid desolation, blazing. Foreruns the volleyed thunder's way : Yet, Lord, thy messengers ^ are praising The mild procession of thy day. Jll Three. The sight new ftrength to angels lendeth. For none thy being fathom may. The works, no angel comprehendeth. Stand lordly as on time's firft day. Mephijippheles. Since, Lord, thou draweft near us once again, And how we do, doft graciously inquire. And to be pleased to see me once didft deign, I too among thy household venture nigher. Pardon, high words I cannot labor after. Though the whole court ftiould look on me with scorn ; My pathos certainly would ftir thy laughter, Hadft thou not laughter long since quite forsworn. Of sun and worlds I've nought to tell worth mention, How men torment themselves takes my attention. The little God o' the world jogs on the same old way And is as singular as on the world's firft day. »6 PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. A pity *tis thou fhouldft have given The fool, to make him worse, a gleam of light from heaven \ He calls it reason, using it To be more beaft than ever bead v^ras yet. He seems to me, (your grace the word will pirdon,) Like a long-legg'd grasshopper in the garden, Forever on the wing, and hops and sings The same old song, as in the grass he spring? i Would he but ftay there ! no ; he needs muft muddle His prying nose in every puddle. The Lord. Haft nothing for our edification ? Still thy old work of accusation ? Will things on earth be never right for thee ? Mephijhpheles, No, Lord ! I find them ftill as bad as bad can be. Poor souls ! their miseries seem so much to please em. I scarce can find it in my heart to tease 'em. The Lord, Knoweft thou Fauft ? Meph'ijiopheles. The Doaor ? The Lord, Ay, my servant ! Mephljlopheles, He ! Forsooth ! he serves you in a famous fafhion ; No earthly meat or drink can feed his passion j Its grasping greed no space can measure ; Half-conscious and half-crazed, he finds no reft ; The faireft ftars of heaven muft swell his treasure, PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. 27 Each higheft joy of earth muft yield its zeft, Not all the world — the boundless azure — Can fill the void within his craving breaft. The Lord. He serves me somewhat darkly, now, I grant, Yet will he soon attain the light of reason. Sees not the gardener, in the green young plant. That bloom and fruit fliall deck its coming season ? Mephljlopheles, What will you bet ? You'll surely lose your wager ! If you will give me leave henceforth, To lead him softly on, like an old ftager. The Lord. So long as he fliall live on earth, Do vv^ith him all that you desire. Man errs and ftaggers from his birth. Mephljlopheles, Thank you ; I never did aspire To have with dead folk much transa^ion. In full frefh cheeks I take the greateft satisfaction. A corpse will never find me in the house ; I love to play as puss does with the mouse. The Lord. All right, I give thee full permis- sion ! Draw down this spirit from its source. And, canft thou catch him, to perdition Carry him with thee in thy course, But ftand abafhed, if thou muft needs confess. That a good man, though passion blur his vision, Has of the right way ftill a consciousness. 28 PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. Mephi/opheles, Good ! but I'll make it a fhort flory. About my wager Pm by no means sorry. And if I gain my end with glory Allow me to exult from a full bread. Duft fhall he cat and that with zeft. Like my old aunt, the snake, whose fame is hoary. The Lord, Well, go and come, and make thy trial ; The like of thee I never yet did hate. Of all the spirits of denial The scamp is he I beft can tolerate. Man is too prone, at beft, to seek the way that's easy. He soon grows fond of unconditioned reft ; And therefore such a comrade suits him beft, Who spurs and works, true devil, always busy. But you, true sons of God, in growing measure, Enjoy rich beai^ty's living ftores of pleasure ! The Word ^ divine that lives and works for aye. Fold you in boundless love's embrace alluring. And what in floating vision glides away, That seize ye and make faft with thoughts enduring. IHea'ven closes y the archangels disperse.^ Mephtjlopheles. \Alone.\ I like at times to ex- chanQ;e with him a word. And take care not to break with him. 'Tis civil In the old fellow* and so great a Lord To talk so kindly with the very devil. FAUST. Kight, In a narr(ym bigh-arched Gothic rcom^ Faust sitting uneasy at bis desk. FauJ}. Have now, alas ! quite studied through Philosophy and Medicine, And Law, and ah ! Theology, too. With hot desire the truth to win ! And here, at laft, I ftand, poor fool ! As wise as when I entered school ; Am called Magifter, Do6lor, indeed, — Ten livelong years cease not to lead Backward and forward, to and fro. My scholars by the nose — and lo ! Juft nothing, I see, is the sum of our learning, To the very core of my heart 'tis burning. *Tis true I'm more clever than all the foplings. Doctors, Magifters, Authors, and Popelings; Am plagued by no scruple, nor doubt, nor cavil. Nor lingering fear of hell or devil — What then ? all pleasure is fled fqrevei ; To know one thing I vainly endeavor. There's nothino- wherein one fellow-creature o Could be mended or bettered with me for p teacher. 30 FAUST. And then, too, nor goods nor gold have I, Nor fime nor worldly dignity, — A condition no dog could bnger live in ! And so to magic my soul I've given, If, haply, by spirits' mouth and might. Some myfterles m.iy not be brought to light ; That to teach, no longer may be my lot, With bitter sweat, what I need to be taught j That I may know what the world contains In its innermost heart and finer veins, See all its energies and seeds And deal no more in words but in deeds. O full, round Moon, didil: thou but fhinc For the laft time on this woe of mine ! Thou whom so many a midnight I Have watched, at this defk, come up the fky : O'er books and papers, a dreary pile. Then, mournful friend ! uprose thy smile! Oh that I might on the mountain-height, Walk in the noon of thy blessed light. Round mountain-caverns with spirits hover, Float in thy gleamings the meadows over. And freed from the fumes of a lore-crammed brain. Bathe in thy dew and be well again 1 Woe ! and these walls ftill prison me ? Dull, dismal hole ! my curse on thee ! Where heaven's own light, with its blessed beams. Through painted panes all sickly gleams ! FAUST. 3' Hemmed in by these old book-piles tall, Which, gnawed by worms and deep in muft. Rise to the roof against a wall Of smoke-stained paper, thick with duft j 'Mid glasses, boxes, where eye can see. Filled with old, obsolete instruments. Stuffed with old heirlooms of implements— That is thy world ! There's a world for thee ! And still doft afk what ftifles so The fluttering heart within thy breaft ? By what inexplicable woe The springs of life are all oppressed ? Instead of living nature, where God made and planted men, his sons. Through smoke and mould, around thee stare Grim fkeletons and dead men's bones. Up ! Fly ! Far out into the land ! And this myflerious volume, see ! By Noflradamus's ^ own hand, Is it not guide enough for thee ? l^hen (halt thou thread the flarry Ikies, And, taught by nature in her walks. The spirit's might shall o'er thee rise. As ghoft to ghoft familiar talks. Vain hope that mere dry sense fhould here Explain the holy signs to thee. I feel you, spirits, hovering near ; Oh, if you hear me, answer me ! [Ilr opens tbg book and beholds the sign of the Macrocosm.^ 32 FAUST. Ha! as 1 gaze, what ecftasy is this, In one full tide through all my senses flowing ! I feel a new-born life, a holy bliss Through nerves and veins myfteriously glowing. Was it a God who wrote each sign ? Which, all my inner tumult ftilling, And this poor heart with rapture filling. Reveals to me, by force divine, Great Nature's energies around and through me thrilling ? Am I a God ? It grows so bright to me ! Each charatTler on which my eye reposes Nature in a6l before my soul discloses. * The saire's word was truth, at laft I see : " The spirit-world, unbarred, is waiting ; Thy sense 'is locked, thy heart is dead ! Up, scholar, bathe, unhesitating. The earthly breaft in morning-red ! *' [He contemplates the sign.] How all one whole harmonious weaves, Each in the other works and lives ! See heavenly powers ascending and descending. The golden buckets, one long line, extending ! See them with bliss-exhaling pinions winging Their way from heaven through earth — their singing Harmonious through the universe is ringing ! Majeflic fhow ! but ah ! a {how alone ! Nature ! where find I thee, immense, unknown ? Where you, yc breafls ? Ye founts all life suftaining, FAUST. 33 On which hang heaven and earth, and where Men's withered hearts their wafte repair — Ye gufh, ye nurse, and I muft sit complaining ? [He opens reluctantly the book and sees the sign of the eartb- spirit.] How differently v/orks on me this sign ! Thou, spirit of the earth, art to me nearer ; I feel my powers already higher, clearer, I glow already as with new-pressed wine, I feel the mood to brave life's ceaseless clafhing, To bear its frowning woes, its raptures flafhing. To mingle in the tempeft's dafhing, And not to tremble in the fhipwreck's crafhingj Clouds gather o'er my head — The moon conceals her light — The lamp goes out ! It smokes ! — Red rays are darting, quivering Around mv head — comes down A horror from the vaulted roof And seizes me ! Spirit that I invoked, thou near mc art, Unveil thyself! Ha ! what a tearing in my heart ! Upheaved like an ocean My senses toss with ftrange emotion ! I feel my heart to thee entirely given ! Thou muft ! and though the price were life — were heaven ! 24. FAUST. [lie seizes the book and p enounces mysteriously the sign of the spirit. A ruddy Jiame darts outy the spirit appears in the fame.] Spirit, Who calls upon me ? Fauji. [ Turn ing away . ] Horrid sight ! Spirit. Long have I felt the mighty action. Upon my sphere, of thy attraction, And now — FaujI. Away, intolerable sprite ! Spirit. Thou breath'st a panting supplication To hear my voice, my face «-o see i Thy mighty prayer prevails on me, I come ! — what miserable agitation Seizes this demigod ! Where is the cry of thought ? Where is the breall: ? that in itself a world begot. And bore and cherished, that with joy did tremble And fondly dream us spirits to resemble. Where art thou, Fauft ? whose voice rang through my ear, Whose mighty yearning drew me from my sphere ? Is this thing thou ? that, blafted by my breath, Through all life's windings lliuddereth, A shrinking, cringing, writhing worm ! Fauj?. Thee, flame-born creature, (hall I fear ? 'Tis I, 'tis Fault, behold thy peer ! Spirit. In life's tide currents, in action's ftorm, Up and down, like a wave, Like the wind I sweep ! FAUST. 35 Cradle and grave— A limitless deep — An endless v/eaving To and fro, A reflless heaving Of life and glow, — So fhape I, on Deftiny*s thundering loom, The Godhead's live garment, eternal in bloom. FauJ?. Spirit that sweep'ft the world from end to end. How near, this hour, I feel myself to thee ! Spirit. Thou'rt like the spirit thou canft com- prehend. Not me I [F'anijhes, FauJ}. [Collapsing.] Not thee ? Whom then ? I, image of the Godhead, And no peer for thee ! [yf knocking^ Death! I know it ! — 'tis my Famulus—" Good-bye, ye dreams of bliss Elysian ! Shame ! that so many a glowing vision This dried-up sneak muft scatter thus ! [Wagner, in sleeping-go-ucn and night-cap^ a lamp in bis band. Faust turns round luiib an annoyed look.'] ff^agner. Excuse me ! you're engaged in declama- tion ; *Twas a Greek tragedy no doubt you read ? 1 in this art should like initiation, 36 FAUST For nowadays it (lands one well inflead, Pve often heard them boaft, a preacher Might profit with a player for his teacher. FauJ}, Yes, when the preacher is a player, granted : As often happens in our modern ways. JVagner. Ah ! when one with such love of fludy's haunted, And scarcely sees the world on holidays. And takes a spy-glass, as it were, to read it. How can one by persuasion hope to lead it ? Faujl. What you don*t feel, you'll never catch by hunting. It muft gufh out spontaneous from the soul, And with a frefh delight enchanting The hearts of all that hear control. Sit there forever ! Thaw your glue-pot,— Blow up your afh-heap to a flame, and brew. With a dull fire, in your ftew-pot. Of other men's leavings a ragout ! Children and apes will gaze delighted, If their critiques can pleasure impart; But never a heart will be ignited. Comes not the spark from the speaker's heart. ly^agner. Delivery makes the orator's success j There I'm ftill far behindhand, I confess. FauJ}, Seek honefl gains, without pretence ! Be not a cymbal-tinkling fool ! FAUST. 21 Sound underflanding and good sense Speak out with little art or rule; And when you've something earneft to utter, Why hunt for words in such a flutter? Yes, your discourses, that are so refined. In which humanity's poor fhreds you frizzle, Are unrefrefliing as the mifl and wind That through the withered leaves of autumn whiflle j JFagner. Ah God ! well, art is long! And life is fliort and fleetino-. o What headaches have I felt and what heart-beating. When critical desire was ftrong. How hard it is the ways and means to mafter By which one gains each fountain-head ! And ere one yet has half the journey sped, The poor fool dies — O sad disafter ! FauJ}, Is parchment, then, the holy well-spring, thinkeft, A draught from which thy thirfl forever slakes ? No quickening element thou drinkeft, Tdl up from thine own soul the fountain breaks. IVagner. Excuse me I in these olden pages We catch the spirit of the by-gone ages. We see what wiseft men before our day have thought, And to what glorious heights we their bequefls have brought. FauJ}. O yes, we've reached the ftars at laft ! My friend, it is to us, — the buried paft, 38 FAUST. A book with seven seals protected ; Your spirit of the times is, then, At bottom, your own spirit, gentlemen, In which the times are seen reflecEled. And often such a mess that none can bear it ; At the firft sight of it they run away. A duft-bin and a lumber-garret, At moft a mock-heroic play ' With fine, pragmatic maxims teeming. The mouths of puppets well-beseeming! Wagner. But then the world! the heart and mind of man ! To know of these who would not pay attention ? Fauft. To know them, yes, as weaklings can! Who dares the child's true name outright to mention ? The few who any thing thereof have learned. Who out of their heart's fulness needs muft gabble, And show their thoughts and feelings to the rabble. Have evermore been crucified and burned. I pray you, friend, 'tis wearing into night. Let us adjourn here, for the present. Wagner, 1 had been glad to ftay till morning light, This learned talk with you has been so pleasant. But the firft day of Eaftcr comes to-morrow. And then an hour or two I'll borrow. With zeal have I applied myself to learning. True, I know much, yet to know all am burnmg. FAUST. 39 Faujl. \Alone.\ See how in hh head only, hope fliil lingers. Who evermore to empty rubbifh clings. With greedy hand grubs after precious things. And leaps for joy when some poor worm he fingers ! That such a human voice ihould dare intrude. Where all was full of ghoflly tones and features! Yet ah ! this once, my gratitude Is due to thee, moft w^retched of earth's creatures. Thou snatchedft me from the despairing state In which my senses, well nigh crazed, were sunken. The apparition was so giant-great. That to a very dwarf my soul had fhrunken. I, godlike, who in fancy saw but now Eternal truth's fair glass in wondrous nearness. Rejoiced in heavenly radiance and clearness. Leaving the earthly man below ; I, more than cherub, whose free force Dreamed, through the veins of nature penetrating. To tafle the life of Gods, like them creating. Behold me this presumption expiating! A word of thunder sweeps me from my course. Myself with thee no longer dare I measure ; Had I the power to draw thee down at pleasure ; To hold thee here I fiill had not the force. Jh, in that blell, ecftatic hour, I felt myself so small, so great ; Thou droveft me with cruel powei Back upon man's uncertain fate. 40 FAUST. What fhall I do ? what fhun, thus lonely ? That impulse muft I, then, obey? Alas ! our very deeds, and not our sufferings only, How do they hem and choke life's way! To all the mind conceives of great and glorious A ftrange and baser mixture ftill adheres ; Striving for earthly good are we victorious ? A dream and cheat the better part appears. The feelings that could once such noble life inspire Are quenched and trampled out in passion's mire. Where Fantasy, erewhile, with daring flight Out to the infinite her wings expanded, A little space can now suffice her quite, When hope on hope timers gulf has wrecked and ftranded. Care builds her nefl far down the heart's recesses. There broods o'er dark, untold distresses, Reftless fhe sits, and scares thy joy and peace away ; She puts on some new mafk with each new day, Herself as house and home, as wife and child pre- senting, As fire and water, bane and blade ; What never hits makes thee afraid. And what is never loft fhe keeps thee flill lament- ing. Not like the Gods am I ! Too deep that truth is thruft! But like the worm, that wriggles through the dufl ; FAUST. 4.1 Who, as along the duft for food he feels, Is cruflicd and buried by the traveller's heels. Is it not dufl that makes this lofty wall Groan with its hundred fhelves and cases ; The rubbilh and the thousand trifles all That crowd these dark, moth-peopled places ? Here fhall my craving heart find refl ? Mufl I perchance a thousand books turn over. To find that men are everywhere diftrefl. And here and there one happy one discover ? Why grin'fl thou down upon me, hollow fkull } But that thy brain, like mine, once trembling, hop- ing, Sought the light day, yet ever sorrowful, Burned for the truth in vain, in twilight groping? Ye, inflruments, of course, are mocking me ; Its wheels, cogs, bands, and barrels each one praises. I waited at the door ; you were the key ; Your ward is nicely turned, and yet no bolt it raises. Unlifted in the broadefl day, Doth Nature's veil from prj'ing eyes defend her, And what fhe chooses not before thee to display. Not all thy screws and levers can force her to sur- render. Old trumpery ! not that I e'er used thee, but Because my father used thee, hang'ft thou o'er me. Old scroll ! thou hafl been flalned with smoke and smut 42 FAUST. Since, on this defk, the lamp firft dimly gleamed before me. Better have squandered, far, I now can clearly see, My little all, than melt beneath it, in this Tophet! That which thy fathers have bequeathed to thee, Earn and become possessor of it! What profits not a weary load will be ; What it brings forth alone can yield the moment profit. Why do I gaze as if a spell had bound me Up yonder ? Is that flafk a magnet to the eyes ? What lovely light, so sudden, blooms around me ? As when in nightly woods we hail the full-moon-rlse, I greet thee, rareft phial, precious potion! As now I take thee down with deep devotion, In thee I venerate man's wit and art. Quintessence of all soporific flowers. Extract of all the fineft deadly powers. Thy favor to thy mafter now impart! I look on thee, the sight my pain appeases, I handle thee, the ftrife of longing ceases, The flood-tide of the spirit ebbs away. Far out to sea Pm drawn, sweet voices lillening, The glassy waters at my feet are gliftening. To new fhores beckons me a new-born day. A fiery chariot floats, on airy pinions, To where I sit! Willing, it beareth me, On a new path, through ether's blue dominions. To untried spheres of pure activity. FAUST. 43 This lofty life, this bliss elysian. Worm that thou waft erewhile, deserveft thou ? Ay, on this earthly sun, this charming vision. Turn thy back resolutely now! Boldly draw near and rend the gates asunder, By which each cowering mortal gladly fteals. Now is the time to fhow by deeds of wonder That manly greatness not to godlike glory yields j Before that gloomy pit to ftuid, unfearing, Where Fantasy self-damned in its own torment lies, Still onward to that pass-way fteering, Around whose narrow mouth hell-flames forever rise j Calmly to dare the ftep, serene, unftirinking, Though into nothingness the hour fhould see thee sinkinfj. Now, then, come down from thy old case, I bid thee, Where thou, forgotten, many a year haft hid thee, Into thy mafter's hand, pure, cryftal glass ! The joy-feafts of the fathers thou haft brightened, The hearts of graveft guefts were lightened. When, pledged, from hand to hand they saw thee pass. Thy sides, with many a curious type bedight, vV'hich each, as with one draught he quaffed the liquor Muft read in rhyme from off the wondrous beaker, Remind me, ah I of many a youthful night. 44 FAUST. I fhall not hand thee now to any neighbor, Not now to Ihow my wit upon thy carvings labor j , Here is a juice of quick-intoxicating might. The rich brown flood adown thy sides is ftreaming, With my own choice ingredients teeming; Be this laft draught, as morning now is gleaming. Drained as a lofty pledge to greet the feftal light ! [He puts the goblet to bis lips. Ringing of bells and choral song. Chorus of Angels. Chrifl hath arisen! Joy to humanity ! No more fhall vanity, Death and inanity Hold thee in prison! Faujl, What hum of music, what a radiant tone, Thrills through me, from my lips the. goblet flealing! Ye murmuring bells, already make ye known The Eafter morn's firft hour, with solemn pealing ? Sing you, ye choirs, e'en now, the glad, consoling song. That once, from angel-lips, through gloom sepul- chral rung, A new immortal covenant sealing ? Chorus of IVomen. Spices we carried. Laid them upon his bread j Tenderly buried Him whom we loved the bed ; FAUST. 45 Cleanly to bind him Took we the fondeft care, Ah ! and we find him Now no more there. Chorus of Angels. Chrifl hath ascended! Reign in benignity! Pain and indignity. Scorn and malignity. Their work have ended. Faujl. Why seek ye me in dust, forlorn. Ye heavenly tones, with soft enchanting ? Go, greet pure-hearted men this holy morn ! Your message well I hear, but faith to mc is want- ing ; Wonder, its dearest child, of Faith is born. To yonder spheres I dare no more aspire. Whence the sweet tidings downward float ; And yet, from childhood heard, the old, familiar note Calls back e'en now to life my warm desire. Ah ! once how sweetly fell on me the kiss Of heavenly love in the still Sabbath stealing ! Prophetically rang the bells with solemn pealing ; A prayer was then the ecstasy of bliss ; A blessed and mysterious yearning Drew me to roam through meadows, woods, and fkies ; And, midst a thousand tear-drops burning, I felt a world within me rise. 46 FAUST. That strain, oh, how it speaks yjuth's gleesome plays and feelings, Joys of spring-festivals long past j Remembrance holds me now, with childhood's fond appealings. Back from the fatal step, the last. Sound on, ye heavenly strains, that bliss restore me ! Tears gush, once more the spell of earth is o'er me Chorus of Disciples, Has the grave's lowly one Risen victorious ? Sits he, God's Holy One, High-throned and glorious? He, in this blest new birth. Rapture creative knows ; ^ Ah ! on the breast of earth Taste we still nature's woes. Left here to languish Lone in a world like this, Fills us with anguifh Master, thy bliss ! Chorus of Angels, Christ has arisen Out of corruption's gloom. Break from your prison, Burst every tomb ! Livingly owning him, Lovingly throning him. Feasting fraternally, Praying diurnally. FAUST. 47 Bearing his messages, Sharing his promises, Find ye your master near, Find ye him here I '' a8 FAUST. BEFORE THE GATE. Pedestrians of all descriptions stroll forth. Mechanics' Jpprcntices, Where are you going to carouse ? Others. We're all going out to the Hunter's House. The Fir/I. We're going, ourselves, out to the Mill-House, brothers. Jn Apprentice. The Fountain-House I rather recommend. Second. 'Tis not a pleiisant road, my friend. The second group. What will you do, then ? J Third. I go with the others. Fourth. Come up to Burgdorf, there you're sure to find good cheer. The handsomest of girls and best of beer, And rows, too, of the very first water. Fifth. You monstrous madcap, does your fkin Itch for the third time to try that inn ? I've had enough for my taste in that quarter. Servant-girl. No! I'm going back again to town for one. Others. Under those poplars we are sure to meet him. Firjl Girl. But that for me is no great fun ; For you are always sure to get him, FAUST. 49 He never dances with any but you. Great good to me your luck will do ! Others. He's not alone, I heard him say. The curlj^-hcad would be with him to-day. Scholar. Stars I how the buxom wenches stride there ! Quick, brother I we must fasten alongside there. Strong beer, good smart tobacco, and the waist Of a right handsome gall, well rigg'd, now that's my taste. Citizen's Daughter. Do see those fine, young fel- lows yonder! *Tis, I declare, a great disgrace ; When they might have the very best, I wonder, After these galls they needs must race ! Second scholar [to the firjl\. Stop! not so fast! there come two more behind, My eyes ! but ain't they dressed up neatly ? One is my neighbor, or I'm blind ; I love the girl, {he looks so sweetlv. Alone all quietly they go. You'll find they'll take us, by and bye, in tow. Firjl. No, brother! I don't like these starched up ways. Alake haste ! before the game slips through our fin- gers. riie hand that swings the broom o' Saturdays On Sundays round thy neck most sweetly lingers. 50 FAUST. FAUST. Citizen. No, I don't like at all this new-made burgomaster ! His insolence grows daily ever faster. No good from him the town will get! Will things grow better with him ? Never ! We're under more constraint than ever, And pay more tax than ever yet. Beggar. [Sings.] Good gentlemen, and you, fair ladies, With such red cheeks and handsome dress, Think what my melancholy trade is. And see and pity my distress I Help the poor harper, sisters, brothers ! Who loves to give, alone is gay. This day, a holiday to others. Make it for me a harvest day. Another citizen. Sundays and holidavs, I like, of all things, a good prattle Of war and fighting, and the whole array. When back In Turkey, far away. The peoples give each other battle. One stands before the window, drinks his glass, And sees the fhips with flags glide slowly down the river j Comes home at night, when out of sight they pass, And sings with joy, " Oh, peace forever! " Third citizen. So I say, neighbor! let them have their way. 5^ «9 It* Ntl cc I Crack fkulls and in their crazy riot Turn all things upside down they may. But leave us here in peace and quiet. Old IVorhan \tQ the citizen^ s daughter]. Heyday, brave prinking this! the fine young blood! Who is not smitten that has met you ? — But not so proud! All very good! And what you want I'll promise soon to get you. Citizen's Daughter. Come, Agatha! I dread in public sight To prattle with such hags ; don't stay, O, Luddy ! 'Tis true fhe fhowed me, on St. Andrew's night, My future sweetheart in the body. Fhe other. She fhowed me mine, too. In a glass, Right soldierlike, with daring comrades round him. I look all round, I study all that pass. But to this hour I have not found him. Soldiers, Castles with lowering: Bulwarks and towers. Maidens with towering Passions and powers, Both fhall be ours ! Daring the venture. Glorious the pay! W^hcn the brass trumpet Summons us budly, Joy-ward or death-ward. On we march proudly. That Is a stormlno- ! o 52 FAUST. Life in its splendor! Castles and maidens Both must surrender. Daring the venture, Glorious the pay. There go the soldiers Marching away! Faust and Wagner. Fauft. Spring's warm look has unfettered the fountains, Brooks go tinkling with silvery feet ; Hope's bright blossoms the valley greet ; Weakly and sickly up the rough mountains Pale old Winter has made his retreat. Thence he launches, in fheer despite. Sleet and hail in impotent fhowers. O'er the green lawn as he takes his flight ; But the sun will suffer no white. Everywhere waking the formative powers. Living colors he yearns to spread j Yet, as he finds it too early for flowers, Gayly dressed people he takes instead. Look from this height whereon we find us Back to the town we have left behind us. Where from the dark and narrow door Forth a motley multitude pour. They sun themselves gladly and all are gay, They celebrate Christ's resurrection to-day. FAUST. 53 \ r 1 For have not they themselves arisen ? From smoky huts and hovels and stables. From labor's bonds and traflic's prison, From the confinement of roofs and gables, From many a cramping street and alley. From churches full of the old world's night, All have come out to the day's broad light. See, only see ! how the masses saliy Streaming and swarming through gardens and fields. How the broad stream that bathes the valley Is everywhere cut with pleasure boats' keels. And that last fkifF, so heavily laden. Almost to sinking, puts off in the stream ; Ribbons and jewels of youngster and maiden From the far paths of the mountain gleam. How it hums o'er the fields and clangs from the steeple ! This is the real heaven of the people. Both great and httle are merry and gay, I am a man, too, I can be, to-day. Wagner, With you. Sir Dodor, to go out walk- ing Is at all times honor and gain enough ; But to trust myself here alone would be fhocking, For I am a io^ to all that is rough. Fiddling and bowling and screams and laughter To me are the hatefullcst noises on earth ; They yell as if Satan himself were after, And call it music and call it mirth. 54 FAUST. [Peasants (under the linden). Dance and songi] The fhepherd prinked him for the dance, With jacket gay and spangle's glance, And all his finest quiddle. And round the linden lass and lad They wheeled and whirled and danced like mad. Huzza! huzza! Huzza I Ha, ha, ha! And tweedle-dee went the fiddle. And in he bounded through the whirl, And with his elbow punched a girl. Heigh diddle, diddle ! The buxom wench fhe turned round quick, " Now that I call a scurvy trick ! " Huzza! huzza! Huzza! ha, ha, ha! Tweedle-dee, tweedle-dee went the fiddle. And petticoats and coat-tails flew As up and down they went, and through. Across and down the middle. They all grew red, they all grew warm. And rested, panting, arm in arm. Huzza! huzza! Ta-ra-la ! Tweedle-dee went the fiddle! FiftJST. 55 t "And don't be so familiar there ! How many a one, with speeches fair. His trusting maid will diddle I '* But Still he flattered her aside — And from the linden sounded wide : Huzza! huzza! Huzza! huzza! ha! ha! ha! And tweedle-dee the fiddle. Old Peasant. Sir Do6tor, this is kind of you. That with us here you deign to talk, And through the crowd of folk to-day A man so highly larned, walk. So take the fairest pitcher here, Which we with frefhest drink have filled, I pledge it to you, praying aloud That, while your thirst thereby is stilled, So many days as the drops it contains May fill out the life that to you remains. Fauft. I take the quickening draught and call For heaven's best blessing on one and all. \The people form a circle round him.'] Old Peasant. Your presence with us, this glad day, W^e take it very kind, indeed! In truth we've found you long ere this In evil days a friend in need ! Full many a one stands living here. Whom, at death's door already laid, 56 I. FAUST. Your father snatched from fever's rage, When, by his fkill, the plague he stayed. You, a young man, we daily saw- Go with him to the pest-house then, . And many a corpse was carried forth. But you came out alive again. With a charmed life you passed before us, Helped by the Helper watching o'er us. JIL The well-tried man, and may he live. Long years a helping hand to give ! Fauft. Bow down to Him on high who sends His heavenly help and helping friends ! [lie goes on ivitb Wagner. Wagner. What feelings, O great man, thy heart must swell Thus to receive a people's veneration ! O worthy all congratulation. Whose gifts to such advantage tell. The father to his son fhows thee with exultation, All run and crowd and afk, the circle closer draws. The fiddle stops, the dancers pause, Thou goest — the lines fall back for thee. They fling their gay-decked caps on high ; A little more and they would bow the knee As if the blessed Host came by. Fauft, A few steps further on, until we reach that stone j There will we rest us from our wandering. .*, FAUST. 57 [low oft in prayer and penance there alone, Fasting, I sate, on holy mysteries pondering. There, rich in hope, in faith still firm, I've wept, sighed, wrung my hands and striven This plague's removal to extort (poor worm!) From the almighty Lord of Heaven. The crowd's applause has now a scornful tone ; O couldst thou hear my conscience tell its story. How httle either sire or son Has done to merit such a glory ! My father was a worthy man, confused And darkened witft his narrow lucubrations. Who with a whimsical, though well-meant pa- tience. On Nature's holy circles mused. Shut up in his black laboratory, Experimenting without end, 'Midst his adepts, till he grew hoary. He sought the opposing powers to blend. Thus, a red lion," a bold suitor, married The silver lily, in the lukewarm bath, And, from one bride-bed to another harried. The two were seen to fly before the flaming wrath. If then, with colors gay and splendid, The glass the youthful queen revealed, Here was the physic, death the patients' sufferings ended. And no one afked, who then was healed ? S8 FAUST. Thus, with ele(5luanes so Satanic, Worse than the plague with all its panic. We rioted through hill and vale ; Myself, with my own hands, the drug to thousands giving, They passed away, and I am living To hear men's thanks the murderers hail ! Wagner. Forbear! far other name that service merits I Can a brave man do more or less Than with nice conscientiousness To exercise the calling he inherits^ If thou, as youth, thy father honorest. To learn from him thou wilt desire ; If thou, as man, men with new light hast blest, Then may thy son to loftier heights aspire. Fauft. O blest! who hopes to find repose, Up from this mighty sea of error divino- ! Man cannot use what he already knows, To use the unknown ever striving. But let not such dark thoughts a shadow throw O'er the bright joy this hour inspires ! See how the setting sun, with ruddy glow. The green-embosomed hamlet fires ! He sinks and fides, the day is lived and gone, He hastens forth ntv/ scenes of life to waken. O for a wing 'to lift and bear me on, And on, to where his last rays beckon ! FAUST. 59 Then fhould I see the world's calm breast In everlasting sunset glowing, The summits all on fire, each valley steeped in rest, The silver brook to golden rivers flowing. No savage mountain climbing to the fkies Should stay the godlike course with wild abysses ; And now the sea, with Iheltering, warm recesses Spreads out before the astoniihed eyes. At last it seems as if the God were sinking j But a new impulse fires the mind. Onward I speed, his endless glory drinking, The day before me and the night behind, The heavens above my head and under me the ocean. A lovely dream, — meanwhile he's gone from sight. Ah ! sure, no earthly wing, in swiftest flight. May with the spirit's wings hold equal motion. Yet has each soul an inborn feeling Impelling it to mount and soar away. When, lost in heaven's blue depths, the lark Is peal- ing High overhead her airy layj When o'er the mountain pine's black ftiadow. With outspread wing the eagle sweeps. And, steering on o'er lake and meadow, The crane his homeward journey keeps. IVagner. I've had myself full many a wayward hour, But never yet felt such a passion's power. 6o FAUST. One soon grows tired of field and wood and brook, I envy not the fowl of heaven his pinions. Far nobler joy to soar through thought's dominions From page to page, from book to book! Ah I winter nights, so dear to mind and soul ! Warm, blissful life through all the limbs is thrilling. And when thy hands unfold a genuine ancient scroll, It seems as if all heaven the room were filling. FauJ}. One passion only has thy heart possessed i The other, friend, O, learn it never ! Two souls, alas ! are lodged in my wild breast. Which evermore opposing ways endeavor. The one lives only on the joys of time, Still to the world with clamp-like organs clino-ing ; The other leaves this earthly dust and flime. To fields of sainted sires up-sprino-ino-. O, are there spirits in the air. That empire hold 'twixt earth's and heaven's domin- nions, Down from your realm of golden haze repair. Waft me to new, rich life, upon your rosy pinions! Ay I were a magic mantle only mine. To soar o'er earth's wide wildernesses, I would not sell it for the costliest dresses, • Not for a royal robe the gift resign. IVagner. O, call them not, the well known powers of air. That swarm through all the middle kingdom, weav- ing FAUST. 6i 1 Their fairy webs, with many a fatal snare The feeble race of men deceiving. First, the fharp spirit-tooth, from out the North, And arrowy tongues and fangs come thickly ^y'n\g ; Then from the East they greedily dart forth. Sucking thy lungs, thy life-juice drying ; If from the South they come with fever thirst. Upon thy head noon's fiery splendors heaping j The Westwind brings a swarm, refrefhing first. Then all thy world with thee in stupor steeping. They listen gladly, aye on mischief bent, Gladly draw near, each weak point to espy, They make believe that they from heaven are sent. Whispering like angels, while thev lie. But let us go! The earth looks gray, my friend. The air grows cool, the mists ascend ! At night we learn our homes to prize. — Why dost thou stop and stare with all thy eyes ? What can so chain thy sight there, in the gloaming ? Fauft, Seest thou that black dog through stalks and stubble roaming ? Wagner. I saw him some time since, he seemed not strange to me. Fauft, Look fharply ! What dost take the beast to be ? TVagner, For some poor poodle who has lost his master. And, dog-like, scents him o'er the ground. 62 FAUST. Fauft. A^arkst thou how, ever nearer, ever faster. Towards us his spiral track wheels round and round ? And if my senses suffer no confusion, Behind him trails a fiery glare. U agner, * Fis probably an optical illusion ; I still see only a black poodle there. Fauft, He seems to me as he were tracing flyly His magic rings our feet at last to snare. Wagner, To me he seems to dart around our steps so fhyly, As if he said : is one of them my master there ? Fauft, The circle narrows, he is near ! Wagner. Thou seest ! a dog we have, no spectre, here! He growls and stops, crawls on his belly, too, And wags his tail, — as all dogs do. Fauft. Come here, sir ! come, our comrade be ! Wagner. He has a poodle's drollery. Stand still, and he, too, waits to see ; Speak to him, and he jumps on thee; Lose something, drop thy cane or fling it Into the stream, he'll run and bring it. Fauft. I think you're right ; I trace no spirit here, *Tis all the fruit of training, that is clear. Wagner. A well-trained dog is a great treasure. Wise men in such will oft take pleasure. And he deserves your favor and a collar, He, of the ftudents the accomplifhcd scholar. \They go in through the tozun gate.] FAUST, 63 t STUDY-CHAMBER. Enter Faust ivith the Poodle. I leave behind me field and meadowr Veiled in the dufk of holy night. Whose ominous and awful fhadow Awakes the better soul to light. To fleep are lulled the wild desires, The hand of passion lies at refl ; The love of man the bosom fires, The love of God flirs up the breall. Be quiet, poodle ! what worrisome fiend hath pos- sefl thee. Nosing and snuffling so round the door ? Go behind the flove there and refl thee. There's my befl pillow—what wouldfl thou more ? As, out on the mountain-paths, frifKing and leaping, Thou, to amuse us, hafl done thy bef}, So now in return lie flill in my keeping, A quiet, contented, and welcome guelK When, in our narrow chamber, nightlv, The friendly lamp begins to burn. Then in the bosom thought beams brightly. Homeward the heart will then return. 64 FAUST. Reason once more bids passion ponder, Hope blooms again and smiles on man j Back to life's rills he yearns to wander. Ah ! to the source where life began. Stop growling, poodle ! In the music Elysian That laps my soul at this holy hour, These beftial noises have jarring power. We know that men will treat with derision Whatever they cannot underfland, At goodness and truth and beauty's vision Will fhut their eyes and murmui and howl at it; And muft the dog, too, snarl and growl at it? But ah, with the befl will, I feel already, No peace will well up in me, clear and fteady. But why muft hope so soon deceive us. And the dried-up ftream in fever leave us ? For in this I have had a full probation. And yet for this want a supply is provided. To a higher than earth the soul is guided. We are ready and yearn for revelation : And where are its light and warmth so blent As here in the New Teftament ? I ftiely this moment, a mighty yearning To expound for once the ground text of all. The venerable original Into my own loved German honeftly turning. [He opens the i^olume, and applies himself to the^'task.] I I i FAUST. t>5 "In the be^innins: was the Word,^'* I read. But here I ftick ! Who helps me to proceed ? The IVord — so high I cannot — dare not, rate it, I muft, then, otherwise translate it, If by the spirit I am rightly taught. It reads : " In the beginning was the thought." But ftudy well this first line's lesson. Nor let thy pen to error overhaften ! Is it the thought does all from time's firft hour ? " In the beginning," read then, " was the power^'^ Yet even while I write it down, my finger Is checked, a voice forbids me there to linger. The spirit helps ! At once I dare to read And write : " In the beginning was the deed,** If I with thee muft fhare my chamber, Poodle, now, remember. No more howling. No more growling ! 1 had as lief a bull fhould bellow. As have for a chum such a noisy fellow. Stop that yell, now. One of us muft quit this cell now! *Tis hard to retract hospitality. But the door is open, thy way is free. But what ails the creature ? Is this in the course of nature? Is it real ? or one of Fancy's fhows ? 66 FAUST. How long and broad my poodle grows ! He rises from the ground ; That is no longer the form of a hound ! Heaven avert the curse from us ! He looks like a hippopotamus, With his iiery eyes and the terrible white Of his grinning teeth ! oh what a fright Have I brought with me into the house ! Ah now, No myftery art thou ! Methinks for such half hellifh brood The key of Solomon were good. Spirits [in the passage]. Softly! a fellow is caught there ! Keep back, all of you, follow him not there ! Like the fox in the trap, Mourns the old hell-lynx his mishap. But give ye good heed ! This way hover, that way hover, Over and over, And he fhall right soon be freed. Help can you give him, O do not leave him! Many good turns he*s done us. Many a fortune won us. Fauft. First, to encounter the creature By the spell of the Four, says the teacher : FAUST. 67 I *i Salamander fhall gliflen,^^ Undina lapse lightly. Sylph vanifti brightly, Kobold quick liften. He to whom Nature Shows not, as teacher. Every force And secret source. Over the spirits No power inherits. Vanifh in glowing Flame, Salamander! Inward, spirally flowing. Gurgle, Undine! Gleam in meteoric splendor, Airy Queen ! Thy homely help render, Incubus! Incubus! Forth and end the charm for us ! No kingdom of Nature Resides in the creature. He lies there grinning — 'tis clear, my charm Has done the monfter no mite of harm. I'll try, for thy curing, Stronger adjuring. 68 FAUST. FAUST. 6» Art thou a jail-bird, A runaway hell-bird ? This sign,^3 then — adore it ! They tremble before it All through the dark dwelling. His hair is bridling — his body swelling. Reprobate creature ! Canft read his nature ? The Uncreated, Ineffably Holy, With Deity mated, Sin's victim lowly ? Driven behind the ftove by my spells. Like an elephant he swells ; He fills the whole room, so huge he's grown. He waxes fhadowy fafter and fafter. Rise not up to the ceiling — down ! Lay thyself at the feet of thy mailer ! Thou seeft, there's reason to dread my ire. I'll scorch thee with the holy fire! Wait not for the sio-ht Of the thrice-glowing light ! Wait not to feel the micrht o Of the potenteft spell in all my treasure ! Mephistopheles. [^x the mist sinks, steps forth from behind the stove, dressed as a travelling scholasticusi] Why all this noise ? What is your worfhip's pleas- ure r ? Fauft. This was the poodle's essence then ! A travelling dark ? Ha ! ha ! The casus is too funny. Mephijiopheles. I bow to the moft learned among men ! Taith you did sweat me without ceremony. Fauft. What is thy name ? Mephijiopheles. The queftion seems too small For one who holds the word so very cheaply, Who, far removed from ftiadows all. For subftances alone seeks deeply. Fauft. With gentlemen like him in my presence. The name is apt to express the essence. Especially if, when you inquire. You find it God of flies,^^ Deflroyer, Slanderer, Liar. Well now, who art thou then ? Mephijiopheles. A portion of that power, Which wills the bad and works the good at every hour. Fauft. Beneath thy riddle-word what meaning lies ? Alephi^opheles. I am the spirit that denies ! And juftly so ; for all that time creates, 70 FAUST. FAUST. 71 He does well who annihilates ! Better, it ne'er had had beginning ; And so, then, all that you call sinning, DeftrucSlion, — all you pronounce ill-meant, — Is my original clement. Fauft. Thou cairft thyself a part, yet lcx)i ^1 complete to me. Mephiftophelcs, I speak the modeft truth to thee. A world of folly in one little soul, Man loves to think himself a whole ; Part of the part am I, which once was all, the Gloom That brought forth Light itself from out her mighty womb, The upfl-art proud, that now with mother Night Disputes her ancient rank and space and right. Yet never fhall prevail, since, do whate'er he will, He cleaves, a slave, to bodies flill ; From bodies flows, makes bodies fair to sight ; A body in his course can check him. His doom, I therefore hope, will soon overtake him, With bodies merged in nothingness and night. Fauft. Ah, now I see thy high vocation! In gross thou canft not harm creation, And so In small haft now begun. Mephiftophelcs. And, truth to tell, e'en here, not much have done. That which at nothing the gauntlet has hurled. This, what's its name ? this clumsy world, tc i // T teev H [ati ;oll tih cc dl So far as I have undertaken, I have to own, remains unfhaken By wave, ftorm, earthquake, fiery brand. Calm, after all, remain both sea and land. And the damn'd living ftuff, of man and beaft the brood, It laughs to scorn my utmoft power. I've buried myriads by the hour, And ft ill there circulates each hour a new, frefti blood. It were enough to drive one to diftraillon! Earth, water, air, in conftant a6lion. Through molft and dry, through warm and cold. Going forth in endless germination! Had I not claimed of fire a reservation. Not one thing I alone fliould hold. Fauft, Thus, with the ever-working power Of good doft thou in ftrlfe persift. And In vain malice, to this hour, Clencheft thy cold and devilifti fift ! Go try some other occupation. Singular son of Chaos, thou ! Mephiftopheles. We'll give the thing consideration, When next we meet again ! But now Might I for once, with leave retire ? Fauft. Why thou (houldft afk I do not see. Now that I know thee, when desire Shall prompt thee, freely visit me. 72 FAUST. Window and door give free admission, At leaft there's left the chimney flue. Mephiftopheles. Let me confess there's one smaU prohibition Lies on thy threfhold, 'gainft my walking through, The wizard-foot — i^ Pauft. Does that delay thee ? The Pentagram difturbs thee ? Now, Come tell me, son of hell, I pray thee. If that spell-binds thee, then how entercdft thou? Thou fhouldft proceed more circumspe^ly ! Mephiftopheles. Mark well! the figure is not drawn correctly ; One of the angles, 'tis the outer one, Is somewhat open, doft perceive it ? Fauft. That was a lucky hit, believe it! And I have caught thee then ? Well done ! 'Twas wholly chance — I'm quite aftounded! Mephiftopheles. The poodle took no heed, as through the door he bounded ; The case looks differently now ; The devil can leave the house no-how. Fauft. The window offers free emission. Mephiftopheles. Devils and ghofts are bound by this condition : The way they entered in, they mufl come out. Allow In the firfl clause we're free, yet not so in the second. FAUST. 73 Fauft. In hell itself, then, laws are reckoned ? Now that I like ; so then, one may, in fact. Conclude a binding compact with you gentry ? Mephiftopheles. Whatever promise on our books finds entrv. We ftrictly carry into a6l. But herebv hangs a grave condition. Of this we'll talk when next we meet ; But for the present I entreat Mofl urgentlv your kind dismission. Fauft. Do flay but juft one moment longer, then, Tell me good news and I'll release thee. Mephiftopheles. Let me go now I I'll soon come back again, Then may'fl thou afk whate'er fhall please thee. Fauft. I laid no snare for thee, old chap ! Thou fhouldfl have watched and saved thy bacon. Who has the devil in his trap Muft hold him fongingly turning To the far-burning Star-light of bliss. Mcphijiopheles. He fleepsl Ye airy, tender youths, your numbers Have sung him into sweeteft flumbers! You put me greatly in your debt by this. Thou art not yet the man that fhall hold faft the devil ! FAUST. 77 Still cheat his senses with your magic revel. Drown him in dreams of endless youth ; But this charm-mountain on the sill to level, I need, O rat, thy pointed tooth ! Nor need I conjure long, they're near me. E'en now comes scampering one, who presently wiL hear me. The sovereign lord of rats and mice. Of flies and frogs and bugs and lice, Commands thee to come forth this hour. And gnaw this threfliold with great power. As he with oil the same fhall smear — Ha! with a (kip e'en now thou'rt here ! But briflc to work! The point by which I'm cow- ered. Is on the ledge, the fartheft forward. Yet one more bite, the deed is done. — Now, Fauft, until we meet again, dream on I FauJI. [JVaking.] Again has witchcraft triumphe-l o'er me ? Was it a ghoftly fliow, so soon withdrawn ? I dream, the devil ftands himself before me — I wake, to fmd a poodle gone ! 78 FAUST. FAUST. 79 STUDY-CHAMBER. Faust. Mephistopheles. FauJ}. A knock ? Walk In ! Who comes again to tease me ? Mephiftopbeles. 'Tis I. Faujl. Come in ! Mephiftopbeles. Mufl: say it thrice, to please me. FauJl, Come in then ! Mephiftopbeles. That I like to hear. We Ihall, I hope, bear with each other ; For to dispel thy crotchets, brother, As a young lord, I now appear, In scarlet dress, trimmed with gold lacing, A ftifFsilk cloak with flylifh facing, A tall cock's feather in my hat, A long, fharp rapier to defend me, And I advise thee, fhort and flat, In the same coftume to attend me ; If thou wouldft, unembarrassed, see What sort of thing this life may be. Faiifl. In every dress I well may feel the sore Of this low earth-life's melancholy. I am ti)o old to live for folly. Too young, to wifh for nothing more. Am I content with all creation ? Renounce ! renounce ! Renunciation — Such is the everlafting song That in the ears of all men rings. Which every hour, our whole life long, With brazen accents hoarsely sings. With terror I behold each morning's light. With bitter tears my eyes are filling. To see the day tliat fhall not in its flight Fulfil for me one wifh, not one, but killing Every presentiment of zeft With wayward (kepticism, chases The fair creations from my breaft With all life's thousand cold grimaces. And when at night I ftretch me on my bed And darkness spreads its fhadow o'er me ; No reft comes then anigh my weary head. Wild dreams and spedres dance before me. The God who dwells within my soul Can heave its depths at any hour ; Who holds o'er all my faculties control Has o'er the outer world no power ; Exiftence lies a load upon my breaft, I. ife is a curse and death a long'd-for reft. Mephiftopbeles. And yet death never proves a wholly welcome gueft. Faujl. O bleft ! for whom, when victory's joy fire blazes. Death round his brow the bloody laurel windeth, m 80 FAUST. Whom, weary with the dance's mazes, He on a maiden's bosom hndeth. that, beneath the exalted spirit's power, 1 had expired, in rapture sinking ! Mephiftophelcs. And yet I knew one, in a mid- night hour. Who a brown liquid fhrank from drinking. FauJ}. Eaves-dropping seems a favorite game with thee. Mephiftopheles. Omniscient am I not; yet much is known to me. FauJ}. Since that sweet tone, with fond appealing, Drew me from witchcraft's horrid maze, And woke the lingering childlike feeling With harmonies of happier days ; My curse on all the mock-creations That weave their spell around the soul. And bind it with their incantations And orgies to this wretched hole ! Accursed be the high opinion Hugged by the self-exalting mind ! Accursed all the dream-dominion That makes the dazzled senses blind ! Curs'd be each vision that befools us. Of fame, outlafting earthly life ! Curs'd all that, as possession, rules us, As house and barn, as child and wife ! Accurs'd be mammon, when with treasure Woe! FAUST. He fires our hearts for deeds of might. When, for a dream of idle pleasure. He makes our pillow smooth and light! Curs'd be the grape-vine's balsam-juices ! On love's high grace my curses fall! On faith ! On hope that man seduces. On patience laft, not leaft, of all 1 Choir of spirits. [Invisible.] Woe ! Thou haft ground it to duft. The beautiful world. With mighty fift ; To ruins 'tis hurled; A demi-god's blow hath done it! A moment we look upon it. Then carry (sad duty!) The fragments over into nothingness, With tears unavailing Bewailing All the departed beauty. Lordlier Than all sons oi men, Proudlier Build it again. Build it up in thy breaft anew ! A frelh career pursue, Before thee A clearer view. And, from the Empyrean, 6 8t FAUST. 83 »2 FAUST. A new-born Pasan Shall greet thee, too ! Mephiftopheles. Be pleased to admire My juvenile choir! Hear how they counsel in manly measure Action and pleasure ! Out into life, Its joy and ftiife, Away from this lonely hole. Where senses and soul Rot in ftagnation, Calls thee their high invitation. Give over toying with thy sorrow Which like a vulture feeds upon thy heart j Thou fhalt, in the worft company, to-morrow Feel that with men a man thou art. Yet I do not exactly intend Among the canaille to plant thee. I'm none of your magnates, I grant thee ; Yet if thou art willing, my friend, Through life to jog on beside me. Thy pleasure in all things fhall guide me. To thee will I bind me, A friend thou {halt : nd me, And, e'en to the grave, Shalt make me thy servant, make me thy flave ! FauJI. And in return what service ftiall I render ? i Meph'tjiopheles. There's ample grace— no hurry, not the leaft. FauJI. No, no, the devil is an egotift. And does not easily " for God's sake " tender That which a neighbor may assift. Speak plainly the conditions, come ! 'Tis dangerous taking such a servant home. Mephljhpheles. I to thy service here agree to bmd me. To run and never reft at call of thee ; When over yotider thou fhalt find me, Then thou fhalt do as much for me. Faujl. I care not much what's over yonder : When thou haft knocked this world asunder. Come if it will the other may ! Up from this earth my pleasures all are ftreammg, Down on my woes this earthly sun is beaming •, Let me but end this fit of dreaming. Then come what will, Tve nought to say. I'll hear no more of barren wonder If in that world they hate and love, And whether in that future yonder There's a Below and an Above. M:phi/IopheIes, In such a mood thou well mayft venture. Bind thyself to me, and by this indenture Thou ftialt enjoy with reltfti keen Fruits of my arts that man had never seen. 84 FAUST. Fauft. And what haft thou to give, poor devil ? Was e'er a human mind, upon its lofty level, Conceived of by the like of thee ? Yet haft thou food that brings satiety. Not satisfadion ; gold that reftlessly, Like quicksilver, melts down within The hands ; a game in which men never win j A maid that, hanging on my breaft. Ogles a neighbor with her wanton glances ; Of fame the glorious godlike zeft. That like a fhort-lived meteor dances — Show me the fruit that, ere it's plucked, will rot, And trees from which new green is daily peeping ! Mephiftopheles. Such a requirement scares me not j Such treasures have I in my keeping. Yet fhall there also come a time, good friend. When we may feaft on good things at our leisure. Fauft. If e'er I lie content upon a lounge of pleasure- Then let there be of me an end ! When thou with flattery canft cajole me, Tin I self-satisfied fliall be. When thou with pleasure canft befool me, Be that the laft of days for me ! I lay the wager ! Mephiftopheles, Done ! Fauft. And heartily ! Whenever to the passing hour FAUST. 8s I I cry : O ftay ! thou art so fair ! To chain me down I give thee power To the black bottom of despair ! Then let my knell no longer linger, Then from my service thou art free. Fall from the clock the index-finger. Be time all over, then, for me ! Mephiftopheles. Think well, for we ftiall hold you to the letter. Fauft. Full right to that juft now I gave ; I spoke not as an idle braggart better. Henceforward I remain a flave. What care I who puts on the fetter ? Mepmftopheles. I ftiall this very day, at Doaor's- feaft,i« My bounden service duly pay thee. But one thing'.— For insurance' sake, I pray thee. Grant me a line or two, at leaft. Fauft. Pedant ! will writing gain thy faith, alone ? In all thy life, no man, nor man's word haft thou known ? Is*t not enough that I the fatal word That passes on my future days have spoken ? The world-ftream raves and rufties (haft not heard?) And ftiall a promise hold, unbroken ? Yet this delusion haunts the human breaft. Who from his soul its roots would sever ? Thrice happy in whose heart pure truth finds reft. 86 FAUST. FAUST. 87 No sacrifice {hall he repent of ever ! But from a formal, written, sealed atteft. As from a speilre, all men fhrink forever. The word and spirit die together. Killed by the sight of wax and leather. ' What wilt thou, evil sprite, from me ? Brass, marble, parchment, paper, fhall it be ? Shall I subscribe with pencil, pen or graver ? Among them all thy choice is free. Mephiftopheles. This rhetoric of thine to me Hath a somewhat bombaftic savor. Anv small 'Scrap of paper's good. Thy signature will need a single drop of blood. ^^ Fauft. If this will satisfy thy mood, • I v.'ill consent thy whim to favor. Mephiftopheles. Quite a peculiar juice Is blood. Faiift. Fear not that I fhall break this bond j O, never ! My promise, rightly underflood. Fulfils my nature's whole endeavor. I've pufFed myself too high, I see ; To thy rank only I belong. The Lord of Spirits scorneth me. Nature, ftiut up, resents the wrong. The thread of thought is snapt asunder. All science to me is a ftupid blunder. Let us in sensuality's deep Quench the passions within us blazing ! » ^ And, the veil of sorcery raising, Wake each miracle from its long fleep ! Plunge we into the billowy dance. The rulh and roll of time and chance ! Then may pleasure and diftress, Disappointment and success. Follow each other as faft as they will ; Man's reftless adivity flourifties ftill. Mephiftopheles. No bound or goal Is set to you; Where'er you like to wander sipping. And catch a tit-bit in your fkipping. Eschew all coyness, juft fall to. And may you find a good digeftion ! FaufU Now, once for all, pleasure is not the queftion. I'm sworn to passion's whirl, the agony of bliss, The lover's hate, the sweets of bitterness. My heart, no more by pride of science driven. Shall open wide to let each sorrow enter, And all the good that to man's race is given, I will enjoy it to my being's centre. Through life's whole range, upward and downward sweeping, Their weal and woe upon my bosom heaping. Thus in my single self their selves all comprehending And with them in a common (hipwreck ending. Mephiftopheles, O u-uft me, who since firft I feU from heaven. FAUST. 89 88 FAUST. Have chewed this tough meat many a thousand year, No man digefls the ancient leaven, No mortal, from the cradle to the bier. Truft one of us — the whole creation To God alone belongs by right ; He has in endless day his habitation, Us He hath made for utter night, Tou for alternate dark and light. Fauft. But then I will! Mephiftopheles. Now that's worth hearing ! But one thing haunts me, the old song. That time is fhort and art is long. You need some flight advice, I'm fearing. Take to you one of the poet-feather. Let the gentleman's thought, far-sweeping. Bring all the nobleft traits together, On your one crown their honors heaping. The lion's mood The flag's rapidity. The fiery blood of Italy, The Northman's hardihood. Bid him teach thee the art of combining Greatness of soul with fly designing. And how, with warm and youthful passion, To fall in love by plan and fafhion. Should like, myself, to come across 'm, Would name him Mr. Microcosm. ^.^; Fauft, What am I then ? if that for which my heart Yearns with invincible endeavor. The crown of man, mufl hang unreached forever ? Mephiftopheles. Thou art at lafl-j^ft ^^^^ ^^^^ art. Pile perukes on thy head whose curls cannot be counted. On yard-high bulkins let thy feet be mounted. Still thou art only what thou art. Fauft, Yes, I have vainly, let me not deny it. Of human learning ransacked all the ftores. And when, at laft, I set me down in quiet, There guflies up within no new-born force j I am not by a hair's-breadth higher. Am to the Infinite no nigher. Mephiftopheles, My worthy sir, you see the mattei As people generally see ; But we mufl learn to take things better. Before life pleasures wholly flee. The deuce I thy head and all that's in it. Hands, feet and are thine; What I enjoy with zeft each minute, Is surely not the less mine ? If I've six horses in my span. Is it not mine, their every power ? I fly along as an undoubted man. f 90 FAUST. 91 FAUST. On four and twenty legs the road I scour. Cheer up, then I let all thinking be, And out into the world with me! I tell thee, friend, a speculating churl . Is like a beaft, some evil spirit chases Along a barren heath in one perpetual whirl, While round about lie fair, green pafturing places. Fauft. But how fhall we begin ? Mephiftopheles. We sally forth e'en now. What martyrdom endureft thou ! What kind of life is this to be living, Ennui to thyself and youngfters giving ? Let Neighbor Belly that way go! To flay here threfhing ftraw why car' ft thou ? The beft that thou canft think and know To tell the boys not for the whole world dar'fl thou. E'en now I hear one in the entry. Fauft. I have no heart the youth to see. Mephiftopheles. The poor boy waits there like a sentry, He fhall not want a word from me. Come, give me, now, thy robe and bonnet ;. This mafk will suit me charmingly. [He puts them on.'\ Now for my wit — rely upon it! 'Twill take but fifteen minutes, I am sure. Meanwhile prepare thyself to make the pleasant tour ! [Exit Faust. Mephiftopheles [in Faust's long gown]. Only de- spise all human wit and lore. The higheft flights that thought can soar— Let but the lying spirit blind thee. And with his spells of witchcraft bind thee, Into my snare the victim creeps. — To him has deftiny a spirit given, That unreftraincdly ftill onward sweeps. To scale the flcies long since hath ftriven, And all earth's pleasures overleaps. He fhall through life's wild scenes be driven. And through its flat unmeaningness, I'll make him writhe and ftare and ftifFen, And midft all sensual excess, His fevered lips, with thirft all parched and riven, Insatiably fhall haunt refrefhm.ent's brink ; And had he not, himself, his soul to Satan given. Still muft he to perdition sink ! [Enter a Scholar.] Scholar. I have but lately left my home, And with profound submission come, To hold with one some conversation Whom all men name with veneration. Mephiftopheles. Your courtesy greatly flatters me A man like many another you see. Have you made any apphcations elsewhere ? Scholar. Let me, I pray, your teachings fhare ! With all good dispositions I come, 92 FAUST. A frefh young blood and money some ; My mother would hardly hear of my going ; But I long to learn here something worth knowing. Mephiftopheles. You've come to the very place for it, then. Scholar. Sincerely, could wifh I were ofF again ; My soul already has grown quite weary Of walls and halls, so dark and dreary. The narrowness oppresses me. One sees no green thing, not a tree. On the le£lure-seats, I know not what ails me, Sight, hearing, thinking, every thing fails me. Mephiftopheles. 'Tis all in use, we daily see. The child takes not the mother's breaft In the firft inftance willingly. But soon it feeds itself with zeft. So you at wisdom's breaft your pleasure Will daily find in growing measure. Scholar. VW hang upon her neck, a raptured wooer. But only tell me, who fhall lead me to her? Mephiftopheles. Ere you go further, give your views As to which faculty you choose ? Scholar. To be right learnM I've long desired, And of the natural world aspired To have a perfe(!^ comprehension In this and in the heavenly sphere. FAUST. 93 Mephiftopheles. 1 see you're on the right track here ; But you'll have to give undivided attention. Scholar. My heart and soul in the work 11 be found ; Only, of course, it would give me pleasure, When summer holidays come round. To have for amusement a little leisure. Mephiftopheles. Use well the precious time, it flips away so. Yet method gains you time, if I may say so. I counsel you therefore, my wbrthy friend, The logical leaures firft to attend. Then il your mind well trained and cased In Spanifti boots,^« all snugly laced. So that henceforth it can creep ahead On the road of thought with a cautious tread, And not at random fhoot and ftrike, Zig-zagging Jack-o'-lanthorn-like. Then will you many a day be taught That what you once to do had thought Like eating and drinking, extempore, Requires the rule of one, two, three. It is, to be sure, with the fabric of thought. As with the chef^ceuvre by weavers wrought, Where a thousand threads one treadle plies, Backward and forward the ftiuttles keep gomg. Invisibly the threads keep flowing. 94 FAUST. One ftroke a thousand faftenings ties : Comes the philosopher and cries : I'll fhow you, it could not be otherwise: 7'he firft being so, the second so,. The third and fourth muft of course be so ; And were not the firfl: and second, you see, The third and fourth could never be. The scholars everywhere call this clever, But none have yet become weavers ever. Whoever will know a live thing and expound it, Firft kills out the spirit it had when he found it ; And then the parts are all in his hand, Minus only the spiritual band ! Encheiresin natur.-e's ^^ the chemical name. By which dunces themselves unwittingly fhame. Scholar. Cannot entirely comprehend you. Mephiftopheles. Better success will fhortly attend ou, y When you learn to analyze all creation And give it a proper classification. Scholar. I feel as confused by all you've said, As if 'twere a mill-wheel going round in my head! Mephiftopheles. The next thing moft important to mention. Metaphysics will claim your attention ! There see that you can clearly explain What fits not into the human brain : For that which will not go into the head, A pompous word will ftand you in flead. FAUST. 95 But, this half-year, at leafl, observe From regularity never to swerve. You'll have live leaures every day ; Be in at the ftroke of the bell I pray ! And well prepared in every part j Study each paragraph by heart. So that you scarce may need to look To see that he says no more than's in the book i And when he diaates, be at your pofl. As if you wrote for the Holy GhoftI Scholar. That caution is unnecessary I I know it profits one to write, For what one has in black and white, He to his home can safely carry. Mephiftopheles. But choose some faculty, I pray ! Scholar. I feel a ftrong dislike to try the legal college. Mephiftopheles. I cannot blame you much, I mufl acknowledge. I know how this profession flands to-day. Statutes and laws through all the ages Like a transmitted malady you trace ; In every generation flill it rages And softly creeps from place to place. Reason is nonsense, right an impudent suggeflion ; Alas for thee, that thou a grandson art ! Of inborn law in which each man has part. Of that, unfortunately, there's no queftion. I 06 FAUST. Scholar. My loathing grows beneath your speech. O happy he whom you Ihall teach . To try theology Pm almoft minded. Mephlftopheles, I mull: not let you by zeal be blinded. This is a science through whose field Nine out often in the wrong road will blunder, And in it so much poison lies concealed, That ihould you this mistake for physic, no great wonder. Here also it were beft, if only one you heard And swore to that one mafter's word. Upon the whole — words only heed you! These through the temple door will lead you Safe to the fhrine of certainty. Scholar. Yet in the word a thought muft surely be. Meph'iftopheles. All right! But one mufl not per- plex himself about it ; For juft where one muft go without it, The word comes in, a friend in need, to thee. With words can one dispute moft featly, With words build up a syftem neatly, In words thy faith may ftand unlhaken. From words there can be no iota taken. Scholar. Forgive my keeping you with many queftions. Vet muli 1 trouble you once more. Will you not give me, on the score FAUST. 97 Of medicine, some brief suggeftions ? Three years are a ftlort time, O God . And then the field is quite too broad. If one had only before his nose Something else as a hint to follow!— Mephiftopheles [aside]. Fm heartily tired of this dry prose, Muft play the devil again out hollow. [Aloud.] The healing art is quickly comprehended ; Through great and little world you look abroad. And let it wag, when all is ended, As pleases God. Vain is it that your science sweeps the ikies, Each, after all, learns only what he can ; Who grasps the moment as it flies He is the real man. Your person somewhat takes the eye, Boldness you'll find an easy science, And if you on yourself rely. Others on you will place reliance. In the women's good graces seek firft to be seated ; Their oh's and ah's, well known of old. So thousand-fold. Are all from a single point to be treated ; Be decently modeft and then with ease You may get the blind side of them when you please. A title, firft, their confidence muft waken, 7 gg FAUST. That your art many another art transcends, Then may you, lucky man, on all those trifles reckon For which another years of groping spends : Know how to press the little pulse that dances, And fearlessly, with fly and fiery glances. Clasp the dear creatures round the waift To see how tightly they are laced. Scholar. This promises! One loves the How and Where to see ! Mephiftophelcs, Gray, worthy friend, is all your theory And green the golden tree of life. Scholar, ' I seem, I swear to you, like one who walks in dream. Might I another time, without encroaching, Hear you the deepefl: things of wisdom broaching ? Mephiftophelcs, So far as I have power, you may. Scholar. I cannot tear myself away. Till I to you my album have presented. Grant me one line and Pm contented ! Mephiftophelcs. With pleasure. \jrrites and returns it. Scholar [reads]. Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum. [Shuts it re'verently, and botvs himself out. Mephiftophelcs. Let but the brave old saw and my aunt, the serpent, guide thee. FAUST. 99 ¥ '-1 And, with thy likeness to God, fhall woe one day betide thee! Faift [enters]. Which v/ay now fliall we go? Mephiftophelcs. Which v/ay it pleases thee. The little world and then the great we see. with what gain, as well as pleasure. Wilt thou the rollicking cursus measure ! Fauft. I fear the easy life and free With my long beard will scarce agree. *Tis vain for me to think of succeeding, 1 never could learn what is called good-breeding. In the presence of others I feel so small j I never can be at my ease at all. Mephiftophelcs, Dear friend, vain trouble to your- self you're giving \ Whence once you trufl yourself, you know the art of living. Fauft, But how are we to ftart, I pray ? Where are thy servants, coach and horses ? Mephijlopheles, We spread the mantle, and away It beirs us on our airy courses. But, on this bold excursion, thou Muft take no great portmanteau now. A little oxygen, which I will soon make ready. From earth uplifts us, quick and fteady. And if we're light, v/e'll soon surmount the sphere; I give thee hearty joy in this thy new career. 100 FAUST. AUERBACII'S CELLAR IN LEIPSIC. Carousal of yolly Companions. Frosch,'^^ Will nobody drink ? Stop those grimaces ! Pll teach you how to be cutting your faces ! Laugh out! You're like wet ftraw to-day, And blaze, at other times, like dry hay. Brander. 'Tis all your fault ; no food for fun you bring. Not a nonsensical nor nafty thing. Frosch \(lajhes a glass of wine over his head]. There you have both ! Brander. You liog twice o'er ! Frosch. You wanted it, what would you more ? Siebel. Out of the door with them that brawl! Strike up a round \ swill, fhout there, one and all ! Wake up! Hurra! Altmayer. Woe*s me, Pm loft ! Bring cotton ! The rascal splits my ear-drum, Siebel. Only fhout on ! When all the arches ring and yell. Then does the base make felt its true ground-swell. Frosch. That's right, jufc throw him out, who undertakes to fret ! A I tara I lara da I Altmayer. A ! tara ! lara da ! Frosch, Our whiftles all are wet. FAUST. lOI [Slngs:\ The dear old holy Romifti realm, What holds it ftill together ? Brander. A sorry song! Fie ! a political song! A tiresome song ! Thank God each morning there- for, That you have not the Romifh realm to care for! At leaft I count it a great gain that He Kaiser nor chancellor has made of me. E'en we can't do without a head, however j To choose a pope let us endeavour. You know v/hat qualification throws The cafting vote and the true man fhows. Frosch [sings\. Lady Nightingale, upward soar. Greet me my darling ten thousand times o'er. Siebel. No greetings to that girl ! Who does so, I resent it! Frosch. A greeting and a kiss ! And you will not prevent it! [Sings.] Draw the bolts ! the night is clear. Draw the bolts ! Love watches near. Close the bolts ! the dawn is here. Siebel Ay, sing away and praise and glorify your dear! Soon I fhall have my time for laughter. The jade has jilted me, and will you too hereafter; May Kobold, for a lover, be her luck ! 102 FAUST. f At night may he upon the cross-way meet her ; Or, coming from the Blocksberg, some old buck May, as he gallops by, a good-night bleat her! A fellow fine of real flefh and blood Is for the wench a deal too good. She'll get from me but one love-token. That is to have her window broken ! Brandcr [ftriking on the table\. Attend I attend! To me give ear I 1 know what's life, ye gents, confess it : We've lovesick people sitting near, And it is proper they fhould hear A orood-night ftrain as well as I can dress it. Give heed! And hear a bran-new song! Join in the chorus loud and ftrong! \IIe sings!] A rat in the cellar had built his neft, He daily grew fleeker and smoother. He lined his paunch from larder and cheft, And was portly as Doctor Luther. The cook had set him poison one day ; From that time forward he pined away As if he had love in his body. Chorus \Jhoutlng\. As if he had love in his body. Brander. He raced about with a terrible touse, From all the puddles went swilling, He gnawed and he scratched all over the house, His pain there was no fcilling ; FAUST. 103 'i He made full many a jump of diftress. And soon the poor beaft got enough, I guess. As if he had love in his body. Chorus, As if he had love in his body. Brander, With pain he ran, in open day. Right up into the kitchen ; He fell on the hearth and there he lay Gasping and moaning and twitchin*. Then laughed the poisoner : " He ! he ! he ! He's piping on the laft hole," said ihe, "As if he had love in his body." Chorus. As if he had love in his body. Siehel, Jufl hear now how the ninnies giggle! That's what I call a genuine art. To make poor rats with poison wriggle ! Brander, You take their case so much to heart ? Altmayer, The bald pate and the butter-belly ! The sad tale makes him mild and tame ; He sees in the swollen rat, poor fellow ! His own true likeness set in a frame. Faust and Mephistopheles. Mephiftopheles, Now, firft of all, 'tis necessary To fhow you people making merry, That you may see how lightly life can run. Each day to this small folk's a feaft of fun ; Not over-witty, self-contented, Still round and round in circle-dance they whirl. As with their tails young kittens twirl. 104 FAUST. If with no headache they're tormented, Nor dunned by landlord for his pay, They're careless, unconcerned, and gay. Brander. They're frefh from travel, one might know it. Their air and manner plainly thow it j They came here not an hour ago. Froich, Thou verily art right! My Leipsic well I know! Paris in small it is, and cultivates its people. Siehel. What do the ftrangers seem to thee ? Froich, Juft let me go ! When wine our friend- fhip mellows. Easy as drawing a child's tooth 'twill be To worm their secrets out of these two fellows. They're of a noble house, I dare to swear. They have a proud and discontented air. Brander, They're mountebanks, I'll bet a dol- lar! Altinayer. Perhaps. Frosch. V\\ smoke them, mark you that! Mephiftopheles [to Fauft\. These people never smell the old rat. E'en when he has them by the collar. Fauft. Fair greeting to you, sirs! S'lebel. The same, and thanks to boot. \In a loiv toncy taking a side look at Mephistopheles.] Why has the churl one halting foot ? FAUST. IC5 -^ Mephiftopheles. With your permission, (hall we make one party ? Inftead of a good drink, which get here no one can, Good company muft make us hearty. Altmayer. You seem a very faftidious man. Froich. I think you spent some time at Rippach^a lately ? You supped with Miller Hans not long since, I dare say? Mephiftopheles. We passed him on the road to- day! Fine man! it grieved us parting with him, greatly. He'd much to say to us about his cousins. And sent to each, through us, his compliments by dozens. \lle hoixss to Frosch.] Altmayer \joftlf\. You've got it there! he takes! SieheL The chap don't want for wit ! Frosch. I'll have him next time, wait a bit! Mephiftopheles. If I mistook not, didn't we hear Some well-trained voices chorus singing ? 'Faith, music muft sound finely here, From all these echoing arches ringing! Frosch. You are perhaps a connoisseur ? Mephiftopheles. O no ! my powers are small, I'm but an amateur. Altmayer. Give us a song ! Mephiftopheles. As many's you desire. io6 FAUST. Slebel. But let it be a bran-new ftrain! Mephiftopheles. No fear of that I We've juft come back from Spain, The lovely land of wine and song and lyre. [Sings.'] There was a king, right (lately, Who had a great, big flea, — Frosch. Hear him! A flea! D'ye take there, boys ? A flea ! I call that genteel company. Mephiftopheles \resu?nei] . There was a king, right stately. Who had a great, big flea, And loved him very greatly, As if his own son were he. He called the knight of stitches ; The tailor came straightway : Ho ! measure the youngster for breeches, And make him a coat to-day ! Brander. But don't forget to charge the knight of stitches, The measure carefully to take. And, as he loves his precious neck. To leave no wrinkles in the breeches. Mephiftopheles. In silk and velvet splendid The creature now was drest, To his coat were ribbons appended, A cross was on his breast. FAUST. 107 f He had a great star on his collar, Was a minister, in fhort ; And his relatives, greater and smaller. Became great people at court. The lords and ladies of honor Fared worse than if they were hung, The queen, fhe got them upon her, And all were bitten and stung. And did not dare to attack them, Nor scratch, but let them stick. We choke them and we crack them The moment we feel one prick. Chorus [loucf^. We choke 'em and we crack 'em The moment we feel one prick. Frosch, Bravo! Bravo! That was fine! Siebel. So fhall each flea his life resign ! Brander. Point your fingers and nip them fine ! Altmayer, Hurra for Liberty! Hurra for Wine! Mephiftopheles, I'd pledge the goddess, too, to fhow how high I set her. Right gladly, if your wines were just a trifle better. Siebel. Don't say that thing again, you fretter! Mephiftopheles. Did I not fear the landlord to affront ; I'd fhow these worthy guests this minute What kind of stuff" our stock has in it. Siebel. Just bring it on ! I'll bear the brunt. io8 FAUST. Frosch. Give us a brimming glass, our praise {hall then be ample, But don't dole out too small a sample 5 For if I'm to judge and criticize, I need a good mouthful to make me wise. Jltmayer [softl)]. They're from the Rhine, as near as I can make it. Mephistopheles, Bring us a gimlet here ! Brander, What fhall be done with that I You've not the cafics before the door, I take it ? Jltmayer. The landlord's tool-chest there is easily got at. Mephistopheles [takes the gimlet] (to Frosch). What will you have ? It costs but speaking. Frosch. How do you mean ? Have you so many kinds ? Mephistopheles. Enough to suit all sorts of minds. Jltmayer. Aha ! old sot, your lips already licking ! Frosch. Well, then ! if I must choose, let Rhine- wine fill my beaker, Our fatherland supplies the noblest liquor. MEPHISTOPHELES [iorirtg a hole in the rim of the table near the place ivhere Frosch sits']. Get us a little wax right off to make the stoppers ! Jltmayer. Ah, these are jugglers* tricks, an<^ whappers ! Mephistopheles [to Brander], And you ? FAUST. 109 I Brander. Champaigne's the wine for me. But then right sparkling it must be! TMErHiSTOFHELES Aor^j,' meannvhile one of them has made the ivax-stopperSj and stopped the holes J\ Brander. Hankerings for foreign things will some- times haunt you. The good so far one often finds ; Your real German man can't bear the French, I grant you, And yet will gladly drink their wines. Siebel [while Mephiftopheles approaches his seat]. I don't like sour, it sets my mouth awry. Let mine have real sweetness in it ! Mephiftopheles [bores]. Well, you fhall have Tokay this minute. Jltmayer. No, sirs, just look me in the eye ! I see through this, *tis what the chaps call smoking, Mephiftopheles. Come now ! • That would be se- rious joking. To make so free with worthy men. But quickly now! Speak out again ! With what description can I serve you ? Jltmayer. Wait not to afk ; with any, then. [After all the holes are bored and stopped^ Mephiftopheles [with singular gestures]. From the vine-stock grapes we pluck ; Horns grow on the buck j Wine is juicy, the wooden table. no FAUST. Like wooden vines, to give virine is able. An eye for nature's depths receive ! Here is a miracle, only believe! Now draw the plugs and drink your fill ! All [draiving the stoppers^ and catching each in his glass the nuine he had desired]. Sweet spring, that yields us what we will ! Mepbiftopheles, Only be careful not a drop to spill ! [TT}cy drink repeatedly."] Jll [sing]. We're happy all as cannibals, Five hundred hogs together. Mepbiftopheles. Look at them now, they're happy as can be ! Fauft. To go would suit my inclination. Mepbiftopheles. But first give heed, their bestiality Will make a glorious demonstration. SlEBEL \drinks carelessly ; the tuine is spilt upon the ground and turns to fame]. Help ! Fire ! Ho ! Help ! The flames of hell ! Mepbiftopheles [conjuring the fame]. Peace, friendly element, be still ! [To the Toper.] This time 'twas but a drop of fire from purgatory. Siebel. What does this mean ? Wait there, or you'll be sorry ! It seems you do not know us well. FAUST. Ill Frosch, Not twice, in this way, will it do to joke us ! Altmayer, I vote, we give him leave himself here • scarce to make. SiebeL What, sir! How dare you undertake To carry on here your old hocus-pocus ? Mepbiftopheles. Be still, old v/ine-cafk! Siebel. Broomstick, you ! Insult to injury add ? Confound you! Brander, Stop there ! Or blows fhall rain down round you ! Altmayer \draius a stopper out of the table ; fire fie s at him]. I burn! I burn! Siebel. Foul sorcery ! Shame I Lay on ! the rascal is fair game I [They draiv their kni'ves and rush at Mephistopheles.] Mepbiftopheles [with a serious mien]. Word and fhape of air ! Change place, new meaning wear ! Be here — and there ! [They stand astounded and look at each other ^ Altmayer. Where am I ? What a charming land ! Froscb. Vine hills ! My eyes ! Is't true ? Siebel. And grapes, too, close at hand ! Brander. Beneath this green see what a stem is growing ! See what a bunch of grapes is glowing! 112 FAUST. [He seizes Siebel by the nose. The rest do the same to each other and raise their kni-ves.] Mephlftopheles [as above]. Loose, Error, from their eyes the band 1 How Satan plays his tricks, you need not now be told of. \E: 'vanishes 'with Faust, the companions start bach from each otherJ] Siebel. What ails me ? Jit may er. How ? Frosch, Was that thy nose, friend, I had hold of? Brartder [to Siebel]. And I have thine, too, in my hand! Altmayer. O what a fhock! through all my limbs 'tis crawling I Get me a chair, be quick, I'm falling! Frosch. No, say what was the real case ? Siebel. O ihow me where the churl is hiding! Alive he fhall not leave the place ! Altmayer. Out through the cellar-door I saw him riding — Upon a caflc — he went full chase. — Heavy as lead my feet are growing. [Turning towards the table.] My! IF the wine fhould yet be flowing. Siebel. 'Twas all deception and moonfhine. Frosch. Yet I was sure I did drink wine. Brander. But how about the bunches, brother ? Altmayer. After such miracles, Til doubt no other! FAUST. 113 witches' kitchen. \0n a h-u)' hearth stands a great kettle o'ver the fire. In the smoke, ivhicb rises from it, are seen njarious forms. A female monkey^ sits by the kettle and skims it, and takes care that it does not run over. The male monkey 'with the young ones sits close by, ivarming himself. If^alls and ceiling are adorned ivith the most singular ivitch-household stuff.] Faust. Mephistopheles. Fauft. Would that this vile witch-business were well over ! Doft promise me I fhall recover In this hodge-podge of craziness ? From an old hag do I advice require ? And will this filthy cooked-up mess My youth by thirty years bring nigher ? Woe's me, if that's the beft you know ! Already hope is from my bosom banifhed. Has not a noble mind found long ago Some balsam to reftore a youth that's vanifhed ? Mephijiopheles. My friend, again thou speakeft a wise thought ! I know a natural way to make thee young, — none apter ! But in another book it muft be sought, And is a quite peculiar chapter. Fauft. I beg to know it. 8 JV5^ 114 FAUST. FAUST. "5 Mephifiopheles, Well ! here's one that needs no No help of physic, nor enchanting. Out to the fields without delay, And take to hacking, digging, planting ; Run the same round from day to day, A treadmill-life, contented, leading. With simple fare both mind and body feeding. Live with the beaft as beaft, nor count it robbery Shouldft thou manure, thyself, the field thou rcapeft ; Follow this course and, truft to me, For eighty years thy youth thou kecpeft ! Fauft. I am not used to that, I ne'er could bring me to it. To wield the spade, I could not do it. The narrow life befits me not at all. MephiJIopheles. So muft we on the witch, then, call. Fauft. But why juft that old hag ? Canft thou Not brew thyself the needful liquor ? Mephljlopheles. That were a pretty paftime now Td build about a thousand bridges quicker. Science and art alone won't do, The work will call for patience, too ; Cofts a ftill spirit years of occupation : Time, only, ftrengthens the fine fermentation. To tell each thing that forms a part Would sound to thee hke wildeft fable ! m i The devil indeed has taught the art ; I'o make it not the devil is able. \^E spying the animals.'] See, what a genteel breed we here parade ! This is the house-boy ! that's the maid ! [To the animals.'] Where's the old lady gone a mousing ? The animals. Carousing ; Out fhe went By the chimney-vent! Mephiftopheles. How long does fhe spend in gad- ding and ftorming ? The animals. While we are giving our paws a warming. Mephiftopheles [to Fauft]. How do you find the dainty creatures ? Fauft. Dlsguftlng as I ever chanced to see! Mephiftopheles. No ! a discourse like this to me, I own, is one of life's moft pleasant features ; [To the animals.] Sayj cursed dolls, that sweat, there, toiling! What are you twirling with the spoon ? Animals. A common beggar-soup we're boiling. Mephiftopheles, You'll have a run of cuftom sooa The he-monkey [Comes along and fauons on Mephistopheles]. O fling up the dice, Make me rich in a trice, n6 FAUST. FAUST. 117 Turn fortune's wheel over ! My lot is right bad, If money I had, My wits would recover. - Mephiftopheles. The monkey M be as merry as a cricket, Would somebody give him a lottery-ticket! [Meanwhile the young monkeys have been playing 'wiib a great ball^ 'which they roll backivard and for^^ard.'] The monkey. The world's the ball 5 See't rise and fall, Its roll you follow ; Like glass it rings : Both, brittle things! Within 'tis hollow. There it fliines clear. And brighter here, — I live— by Tollo I— Dear son, I pray. Keep hands away ! Thou fhalt fall so! 'Tis made of clay, Pots are, also. Mephiftopheles, What means the sieve ? The monkey [takes it down]. Wert thou a thief, 'Twould fhow the thief and fhame him. [Runs to his mate and makes her look through.'] Look through the sieve ! % DIscern'ft thou the thief. And darefl: not name him ? Mephijiopheles [approaching the fire]. And what's this pot ? The monkeys. The dunce » I'll be (hot ! He knows not the pot, He knows not the kettle ! Mephiftopheles. Impertinence! Hufti! The monkey. Here, take you the brufh, - And sit on the settle ! [He forces Mephistopheles to sit douon.'] Faust ^jujho all this time has been standing before a looking-glass, no'W approaching and nozu receding from it]. What do I see ? What heavenly face Doth, in this magic glass, enchant me ! O love, in mercy, now, thy swiftefl pinions grant me! And bear me to her field of space! Ah, if I seek to approach what doth so haunt me. If from this spot I dare to ftir, Dimly as through a mift I gaze on her! — The lovelieft vision of a woman ! Such lovely woman can there be ? Mud I in these reposing limbs naught human. But of all heavens the fineft essence see ? Was such a thino- on earth seen ever ? Mephiftopheles. Why, when you see a God six days in hard work spend, ii8 FAUST. FAUST. IIQ And then cry bravo at the end, Of course you look for something clever. Look now thy fill ; I have for thee Juft such a jewel, and will lead thee to her j And happy, whose good fortune it fhall be, To bear her home, a prospered wooer! [Faust keeps on looking into the mirror. Mephistopheles stretching himself out on the settle and playing 'with the brush, continues speaking."] Here sit I like a king upon his throne, The sceptre in my hand, — I want the crown alone. The Animals [who up to this time have been going through all sorts of queer antics -with each other ^ bring Mephistopheles a cro-ivn ivitb a loud cry]. O do be so good, — With sweat and with blood. To take It and lime it ; VTbey go about clumsily 'with the croi.vn and break it into tivo pieces, ivitb njohich they jump round.] 'Tis done now ! We're free ! We speak and we see, We hear and we rhyme it ; Fauft [facing the mirror]. Woe's me ! I've al- mofl: loft my wits. Mephlftopheles [pointing to the animals]. My head, too, I confess, Is very near to spinning. Thi animals. And then if it hits And every thing fits. We've thoughts for our winning. Fauji [as before]. Up to my heart the flame is flying ! Let us begone — there's danger near ! Mephlftopheles [In the former posltloft']. Well, this, at leaft, there's no denying. That we have undissembled poets here. irhe kettle, ivhich the she-monkey has hitherto left univatched, begins to run over ; a great flame breaks out, ivhich roars up the chimney. 7^^ Witch comes riding down through the fame -with a terrible outciy.] JVltch. Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow ! The damned beaft ! The cursed sow ! Negleded the kettle, scorched the Frau ! The cursed crew ! {Seeing Faust and Mephistopheles.] And who are you ? And what d'ye do ? And what d'ye want ? And who sneaked in ? The fire-plague grim Shall light on him In every limb ! \^%he makes a dive at the kettle nvith the skimmer and spatters flames at Faust, Mephistopheles, and the creatures. These last ivhimper.^ 120 FAUST. Mephistopheles ^inverting the brush ivhicb he holds in bis handy and striking among the glasses and pot s^. In two ! In two ! There lies the brew ! There lies the glass ! This joke muft pass ; For time-beat, ass ! To thy melody, 'twill do. \JVhile the Witch starts back full ofivrath and horror."] Skeleton ! Scarcecrow ! SpeClre ! Know*ft thou me, Thy lord and mafter ? What prevents my dafhing Right in among thy cursed company. Thyself and all thy monkey spirits smafhing ? Has the red waiftcoat thy respect no more ? Has the cock's-feather, too, escaped attention ? Haft never seen this face before ? My name, perchance, wouldft have me mention ? The ivltch. Pardon the rudeness, sir, in me ! But sure no cloven foot 1 see. Nor find I your two ravens either. Mephiftopheles. I'll let thee off for this once so ; For a long while has passed, full well I know. Since the laft time we met together. The culture, too, which licks the world to fhape. The devil himself cannot escape ; The phantom of the North men's thoughts have left behind them, FAUST. 121 Horns, tail, and claws, where now d'ye find them ? And for the foot, with which dispense I nowise can, 'Twould with good circles hurt my ftanding ; And so I've worn, some years, Hke many a fine young man. False calves to make me more commanding. The zvitch [dancing'] . O I {hall lose my wits, I fear. Do I, again, see Squire Satan here ! Mephiftopheles, Woman, the name offends my ear ! The witch. Why so? What has it done to you ? Mephiftopheles. It has long since to fable-books been banifhed ; But men are none the better for It ; true. The wicked oncy but not the wicked ones^ has van- ifhed. Herr Baron callft thou me, then all Is right and good j I am a cavalier, like others. Doubt me ? Doubt for a moment of my noble blood ? See here the family arms I bear about me! [//^ makes an indecent gesture.] The witch [laughs immoderately']. Ha! ha! full well I know you, sir! You are the same old rogue you always were ! Mephiftopheles [to Faujt]. I pray you, carefully attend. This Is the way to deal with witches, friend. 122 FAUST. FAUST. 123 The witch. Now, gentles, what fhall I produce ? Meph'iftopheles. A right good glassful of the well- known juice! And pray you, let It be the oldeft ; h^Q makes it doubly ftrong for use.' The witch. Right gladly! Here I have a bottle, From which, at times, I wet my throttle ; Which now, not in the flighted, ftinks j A glass to you I don't mind giving j But if this man, without preparing, drinks. He has not, well you know, another hour for living. Mephiftopheles. 'Tis a good friend of mine, whom it fhall ftraight cheer up ; Thy kitchen's beft to give him don't delay thee. Thy ring — thy spell, now, quick, I pray thee. And give him then a good full cup. [The Witch, ivtth strange gestures, draivs a circle, and places shgular things in it; tneanivhile the glasses begin to ring, the kettle to sound and make music. Finally, she brings a great book and places the monkeys in the circle, ivhom she uses as a reading-desk and to hold the torches. She beckons Faust to come to ber.^ Fauji [to MephiJIopheles]. Hold ! what v/ill come of this ? These creatures, These frantic geftures and distorted features, Vnd all the crazy, juggling fluff, i.'ve known and loathed it long enough ! > ) Mephijiopheles. Pugh ! that is only done to smoke us; Don't be so serious, my man ! She mufl, as Doctor, play her hocus-pocus To make the dose work better, that's the plan. [H> constrains Faust to step into the circle. 1 The Witch [beginning ivitb great emphasis 10 declaim out of the book'^ Remember then ! ^ Of One make Ten, The Two let be, Make even Three, There's wealth for thee. The Four pass o'er I Of Five and Six, (The witch so speaks,) Make Seven and Eight, The thino; is flraio;ht : And Nine is One And Ten Is none — This is the witch's one-time-one ! ^* Fauft. The old hag talks like one delirious. Mephijiopheles. There's much more flill, no less mvflerious, I know it well, the whole book sounds jufl so! I've lofl full many a year in poring o'er it, For perfect contradiction, you mufl know. 124 FAUST. FAUST. 125 A myflery (land?, and fools and wise men bow be- fore it, The art is old and new, my son. Men, in all times, by craft and terror, With One and Three, and Three and One, For truth have propagated error. They've gone on gabbling so a thousand years 5 Who on the fools would wafte a minute ? Man generally thinks, if words he only hears, Articulated noise muft have some meanino; in it. The witch \_goes c«]. Deep wisdom's power Has, to this hour. From all the world been hidden I Whoso thinks not, To him 'tis brought. To him it comes unbidden. Faujl. What nonsense is fhe talking here ? My heart is on the point of cracking. In one great choir I seem to hear A hundred thousand ninnies clacking. Meph'iflopheles. Enough, enough, rare Sibyl, smg us These runes no more, thy beverage bring us, And quickly fill the goblet to the brim ; • This drink may by my friend be safely taken ; Full many grades the man can reckon. Many good swigs have entered him. \ I \7he Witch, 'whh many ceremonies, fours tie drink inta a cup ; as she puts it to Faust's lips, there rises a light flame ^ Mephiftopheles. Down with it! Gulp it down! 'Twill prove All that thy heart's wild wants desire. Thou, with the devil, hand and glove,25 And yet wilt be afraid of fire ? [The Witch breaks the circle ; Faust steps out.^ Mephiftopheles. Now brilkly forth I No reft for thee 1 The witch. Much comfort may the drink afFord you! Mephiftopheles [to the witch"]. And any favor you may afk of me, I'll gladly on Walpurgis' night accord you. The witch. Here is a song, which if you some- times sing, •Twill ftir up in your heart a special fire. Mephiftopheles {to Fauft]. Only make hafte ; and even fhouldft thou tire. Still follow me j one muft perspire, That it may set his nerves all quivering. I'll teach thee by and bye to prize a noble leisure. And soon, too, fhalt thou feel with hearty pleasure, How busy Cupid ftirs, and fhakes his nimble wing. 126 FAUST. FAUST. 127 Fauft. But firft one look in yonder glass, I pray thee ! Such beauty I no more may find ! Mephiftopheles. Nay ! in the flefli thine eyes fhall soon display thee The model of all woman-kind. lSoftIy.1 Soon will, when once this drink fhall heat thee. In every girl a Helen meet thee ! A STREET. Faust. Margaret [^passing o'ver], Fauft. My fair young lady, will it offend her If I offer my arm and escort to lend her ? Margaret. Am neither lady, nor yet am fair! Can find my way home without any one's care. \_Disengages herself and exit.'] Fauji. By heavens, but then the child is fair I IVe never seen the like, I swear. So modeft is (he and so pure, And somewhat saucy, too, to be sure. The light of the cheek, the lip's red bloom, I fhall never forget to the day of doom ! How fhe cafl down her lovely eyes, Deep in my soul imprinted lies ; How fhe spoke up, so curt and tart. Ah, that went right to my ravifhed heart! \Enter Mephistopheles.] Fauft, Hark, thou (halt find me a way to address her! Mephiftopheles. Which one ? Fauft. She jufl went by. Mephiftopheles. What ! She ? She came juft now from her father confessor, Who from all sins pronounced her free ; I flole behind her noiselessly, 128 FAUST. *Tis an innocent thing, who, for nothing at all, Muft go to the confessional ; O'er such as fhe no power I hold! Fauft. But then fhe's over fourteen years old. Mephiftopheles, Thou speak'ft exadly like Jack Rake, Who every fair flower his own would make. And thinks there can be no favor nor fame, But one may ftraightway pluck the same. But 'twill not always do, we see. Fauji. My worthy Mafter Gravity, Let not a word of the Law be spoken ! One thing be clearly underflood, — Unless I clasp the sweet, young blood This night in my arms — then, well and good : When midnight ftrikes, our bond is broken. Mephiftopheles, Refle6l on all that lies in the way ! I need a fortnight, at leaft, to a day. For finding so much as a way to reach her. Faufl. Had I seven hours, to call my own, Without the deviFs aid, alone I'd snare with ease so young a creature. Mephiftopheles, You talk quite Frenchman-like to-day ; But don't be vexed beyond all measure. What boots it thus to snatch at pleasure ? 'Tis not so great, by a long way. FAUST. 129 As if you firft, with tender twaddle, And every sort of fiddle-faddle, Your little doll fhould mould and knead, As one in French romances may read. FauJ}, My appetite needs no such spur. Mephiftopheles. Now, then, without a jeft or flur^ I tell you, once for all, such speed With the fair creature won't succeed. Nothing will here by ftorm be taken j We muft perforce on intrigue reckon. FauJl, Get me some trinket the angel has bleft ! Lead me to her chamber of reft ! Get me a 'kerchief from her neck, A garter get me for love's sweet sake ! Mephiftopheles. To prove to you my willingness To aid and serve you in this diftress ; You ftiall visit her chamber, by me attended, Before the passing day is ended. Fauft. And see her, too ? and have her ? Mephiftopheles. Nay ! She will to a neighbor's have gone away. Meanwhile alone by yourself you may. There in her atmosphere, feaft at leisure And revel in dreams of future pleasure. Fauft. Shall we ftart at once ? Mephiftopheles. 'Tis too early yet. Fauft. Some present to take her for me you muft get. 9 \Exiu 130 FAUST. Mephiftopheles, Presents already ! Brave ! Hc*s on the right foundation ! Full many a noble place I know, y\nd treasure buried long ago j Aluft make a bit of exploration. lExit, FAUST. 131 EVENING. A little cleanly Chamber, Margaret \bra'iding and tying up her ba'ir]. Pd give a penny juft to say What gentleman that was to-day ! How very gallant he seemed to be. He's of a noble family; That I could read from his brow and bearing — And he would not have otherwise been so daring. lExit, Faust. Mephistopheles. Mephiftopheles. Come in, ftep softly, do not fear ! Fauft [after a pause']. Leave me alone, I prithee, here ! Mephiftopheles [peering round]. Not every maiden keeps so neat. lExit. Fauft [gazing round]. Welcome this hallowed ftill retreat ! Where twilight weaves Its magic glow. Seize on my heart, love-longing, sad and sweet, That on the dew of hope doft feed thy woe I How breathes around the sense of ftillness, Of quiet, order, and content ! In all this poverty what fulness ! What blessedness within this prison pent! [He thronxjs himself into a leathern chair by the bed."} 132 FAUST. FAUST. 133 Take me, too ! as thou haft, in years long flown. In joy and grief, so many a generation I Ah me! how oft, on this anceftral throne. Have troops of children climbed with exultation! Perhaps, when Chriftmas brought the Holy Gueft, My love has here, in grateful veneration The grandsire's withered hand with child-lips preft. I feel, O maiden, circling me, Thy spirit of grace and fulness hover. Which dailv like a mother teaches thee The table-cloth to spread in snowy purity. And even, with crinkled sand the floor to cover. Dear, godlike hand ! a touch of thine Makes this low house a heavenly kingdom ftilne! And here I [//(? lifts a bed-curtain.'] What blissful awe my heart thrills through! Here for long hours could I linger. Here, Nature ! in light dreams, thy airy finger The inborn angel's features drew ! Here lay the child, when life's frefti heavings Its tender bosom firft made warm. And here with pure, myfterious weavings The spirit wrought its godlike form! . And thou ! What brought thee here ? what powei Stirs in my deepeft soul this hour ? What wouldft thou here ? What makes thy heart so sore ? Unhappy Fauft! I know thee thus no more. Breathe I a magic atmosphere ? The will to enjoy how ftrong I felt it, — And in a dream of love am now all melted ! Are we the sport of every puff of air ? And if fhe suddenly fhould enter now, How would fhe thy presumptuous folly humble! Big John-o'dreams ! ah, how wouldft thou Sink at her feet, collapse and crumble ! Mephiftopheles, Quick, now ! She comes ! I'm looking at her. Fauft. Away! Away! O cruel fate! Adephlftopheles. Here is a box of moderate weight ; I got it somewhere else — no matter! Juft ftiut it up, here, in the press, I swear to you, 'twill turn her senses ; I meant the trifles, I confess, To scale another fair one's fences. True, child is child and play is play. Fauft. Shall I ? I know not. Mephiftopheles. Why delay ? You mean perhaps to keep the bauble ? If so, I counsel you to spare From idle passion hours so fair, And me, henceforth, all further trouble. [ hope you are not avaricious ! [ rub my hands, I scratch my head — \lle places the casket in the press and locks it up again."] 134- FAUST. FAUST. 135 (Quick I Time we sped !) — That the dear creature may be led And moulded by your will and wifhes ; And you ftand here as glum, As one at the door of the auditorium. As if before your eyes you saw In bodily fhape, with breathless awe, Metaphysics and physics, grim and gray ! Away! lExit, Margaret [with a lamp]. It seems so close, so sultry here. \_She opens the ivinJoiv.'] Yet it isn't so very warm out there, I feel — I know not how — oh dear! I wifh my mother *ld come home, I declare ! I feel a fhudder all over me crawl — Vm a silly, timid thing, that's all I [_She begins to s'lng^ ivhile undressing."] There was a king in Thule, To whom, when near her grave. The miftrcss he loved so truly A golden goblet gave. He cheriflied it as a lover. He drained it, every bout ; His eyes with tears ran over. As oft as he drank thereout. And when he found himself dying. His towns and cities he told ; Naught else to his heir denying Save only the goblet of gold. His knights he ftraightway gathers And in the midft sate he. In the banquet hall of the fathers In the caftle over the sea. There ftood th* old knight of liquor, And drank the laft life-glow, Then flung the holy beaker Into the flood below. He saw it plunging, drinking And sinking in the roar. His eyes in death were sinking, He never drank one drop more. IS be opens the press, to put a-voay her clothes, and discovers the casket."] How in the world came this fine cafket here ? I locked the press, Tm very clear. I wonder what's inside ! Dear me I it's very queer! Perhaps 'twas brought here as a pawn. In place of something mother lent. Here is a little key hung on, A single peep I fhan't repent! 1 1^5 FAUST. What's here ? Good gracious ! only see ! I never saw the like in my born days I On some chief feftival such finery Might on some noble lady blaze. How would this chain become my neck ! Whose may this splendor be, so lonely ? [She arrays herself in it, and steps before the glass."] Could I but claim the ear-rings only ! A different figure one would make. What's beauty worth to thee, young blood ! May all be very well and good ; What then ? 'Tis half for pity's sake They praise your pretty features. Each burns for gold, All turns on gold, — Alas for us ! poor creatures I ri H FAUST. PROMENADE. 137 Faust {going up and doivn in thought.] Mephistopheles to bim. Miphiftopheles. By all that ever was jilted ! By all the infernal fires ! I wi(h I knew something worse, to curse as my heart desires ! Fauft. What griping pain has hold of thee ? Such grins ne'er saw I in the worft ftage-ranter ! Mephiftopheles. Oh, to the devil I'd give myself inflanter. If I were not already he ! Fauft. Some pin's loose in your head, old fellow ! That fits you, like a madman thus to bellow ! Mephiftopheles. Juft think, the pretty toy we got for Peg, A priefl has hooked, the cursed plague j — The thing came under the eye of the mother. And caused her a dreadful internal pother : The woman's scent is fine and ftrong ; Snufiles over her prayer-book all day long. And knows, by the smell of an article, plain, Whether the thing is holy or profiine j And as to the box (he was soon aware There could not be much blessing there. " My child," fhe cried, " unrighteous gains Ensnare the soul, dry up the veins. 138 FAUST. We'll consecrate it to God's mother, She'll give us some heavenly manna or other! " Little Margaret made a wry face ; " I see 'Tis, after all, a gift horse," said fhe j "And sure, no godless one is he Who brought it here so handsomely." The mother sent for a prieft (they're cunning) j Who scarce had found what game was running. When he rolled his greedy eyes like a lizard, And, " all is rightly disposed," said he, " Who conquers wins, for a certainty. The church has of old a famous gizzard. She calls it little whole lands to devour, Yet never a surfeit got to this hour ; The church alone, dear ladies, sans queflion, Can give unrighteous gains digeftion." Fauft. That is a general practice, too. Common alike with king and Jew. JHephiftopheles. Then pocketed bracelets and chains and rings As if they were mufhrooms or some such things, With no more thanks, (the greedy-guts !) Than if it had been a bafket of nuts. Promised them all sorts of heavenly pay—" And greatly ediiicd were they. Fauft. And Margery ? Mephiftopheles. Sits there in diftress. And what to do fhe cannot guess, FAUST. 139 ,y The jewels her daily and nightly thought. And he ftill more by whom they were brought. Fauft, A4y heart is troubled for my pet. Get her at once another set ! The firft were no great things in their way. Mephiftopheles. O yes, my gentleman finds all child's play ! Fauft. And what I wifh, that mind and do I Stick closely to her neighbor, too. Don't be a devil soft as pap, And fetch me some new jewels, old chap! Mephiftopheles. Yes, gracious Sir, I will with pleasure. \Exit Faust. Such love-sick fools will pufF away Sun, moon, and ftars, and all in the azure, To please a maiden's whimsies, any day. \Exit. FAUST. 141 140 FAUST. THE neighbor's HOUSE. Martha [alone]. My dear good man — whom God forgive ! He has not treated me well, as I live ! Right off into the world he's gone And left me on the flraw alone. I never did vex him, I say it sincerely, I always loved him, God knows how dearly. [She iveeps."] Perhaps he's dead ! — O cruel fate I — If I only had a certificate ! Enrer Margaret. Dame Martha ! Martha. What now, Margery ? Margaret. I scarce can keep my knees from sinkino; ! Within my press, again, not thinking, I find a box of ebony. With things — can't tell how grand they are,— More splendid than the firfl: by far. Martha. You muft not tell it to your mother, She'd serve it as fhe did the other. Margaret^ Ah, only look I Behold and see I Martha \puts them on her]. Fortunate thing! 1 envy thee I ^] Margaret. Alas, in the ftreet or at church I never Could be seen on any account whatever. Martha. Come here as often as you've leisure, And prink yourself quite privately ; Before the looking-glass walk up and down at pleas- ure. Fine times for both us 'twill be ; Then, on occasions, say at some great feaft. Can fhow them to the world, one at a time, at Icaft. A chain, and then an ear-pearl comes to view ; Your mother may not see, we'll make some pretext, too. Margaret. Who could have brought both cafkets in succession ? There's something here for juft suspicion ! [A knock.'] Ah, God! If that's my mother— then! Martha [peeping through the blind]. 'TIs a ftrange gentleman — come in ! [Enter Mephistopheles.] Muft, ladies, on your kindness reckon To excuse the freedom I have taken ; [Steps back ivith profound respect at seeing Margaret.] I would for Dame Martha Schwerdtlein inquire! Martha. I'm fhe, what, sir, is your desire ? Mephiftopheles [aside to her]. I know your face, for now 'twill do j A diftinguifhed lady is visiting you. 142 FAUST. For a call so abrupt be pardon meted, This afternoon it fhall be repeated. Martha [aloud']. For all the world, think, child! my sakes ! The gentleman you for a lady takes. Margaret, Ah, God ! I am a poor young blood ; The gentleman is quite too good ; The jewels and trinkets are none of my own. Mephiftopheles. Ah, 'tis not the jewels and trinkets alone ; Her look is so piercing, so diftingue ! How glad I am to be suffered to flay. Martha. What bring you, sir ? I long to hear— Mephiftopheles. Would I'd a happier tale for your car! I hope you'll forgive me this one for repeating : Your husband is dead and sends you a greeting. Martha. Is dead? the faithful heart! Woe! Woe! My husband dead! I, too, jQiall go! Margaret. Ah, deareft Dame, despair not thou! Mephiftopheles. Then, hear the mournful flory now ! Margaret, Ah, keep me free from love forever, I fhould never survive such a loss, no, never! Mephiftopheles. Joy and woe, woe and joy, mufl have each other. Martha. Describe his closing hours to me ! Mephiftopheles. In Padua lies our departed brother. FAUST. 143 In the churchyard of St. Anthony, In a cool and quiet bed lies deeping. In a sacred spot's eternal keeping. Martha. And this was all you had to bring me ? Mephiftopheles. All but one weighty, grave re- queft! ^' Bid her, when I am dead, three hundred masses SHig me 1 With this I have made a clean pocket and brealt. Martha. What ! not a medal, pin nor (tone ? Such as, for memory's sake, no journeyman will lack. Saved in the bottom of his sack, And sooner would hunger, be a pauper— Mephiftopheles. Madam, your case is hard, I own! But blame him not, he squandered ne'er a copper. He too bewailed his faults with penance sore. Ay, and his wretched luck bemoaned a great deal more. Margaret. Alas ! that mortals so unhappy prove! I surely will for him pray many a requiem duly. Mephiftopheles. You're worthy of a spouse this moment ; truly Y :u are a child a man might love. Margaret. It's not yet time for that, ah no! Mephiftopheles. If not a husband, say, meanwhile a beau. It is a choice and heavenly blessing. Such a dear thing to one's bosom pressing. 144 FAUST. Margaret, With us the cuflom is not so. Mcphiftopheles. Cuflom or not! It happens, though. Martha. Tell on ! Mephiftopheles. I ftood beside his bed, as he lay dying, Better than dung it was somewhat, — Half-rotten llraw j but then, he died as Chriftian ought. And found an unpaid score, on Heaven's account- book lying. " How muft I hate myself," he cried, " inhuman! So to forsake my business and my woman I Oh! the remembrance murders me! Would fhe mi2;ht ftill forcrive me this side heaven ! " Martha [weeping']. The dear good man! he has been long forgiven. Mephiftopheles. " But God knows, I was less to blame than fhe." Martha. A lie ! And at death's door ! abominable ! Mephiftopheles. If I to judge of men half-way am able. He surely fibbed while passing hence. " Ways to kill time, (he said) — be sure, I did not need them ; Firfl to get children — and then bread to feed them, And bread, too, in the widcil sense. And even to eat my bit in peace could not be thought FAUST. H5 Martha. Has he all faithfulness, all love, so far forgotten. The drudgery by day and night! Mephiftopheles. Not so, he thought of you with all hi> mi2;ht. He said : " When I from Malta went away. For wife and children my warm prayers ascended ; And Heaven so far our cause befriended, Our flu'p a Turkifh cruiser took one dav. Which for the mighty Sultan bore a treasure. Then valor got its well-earned pay. And I too, who received but my juft measure, A goodly portion bore awav." Martha. How? Where? And he has left it somev/here burled ? Mephiftopheles. Who knows which way by the four winds 'twas carried ? He chanced to take a pretty damsel's eye, As, a flrange sailor, he through Naples jaunted; All that file did for him so tenderly. E'en to his blessed end the poor man haunted. Martha, The scamp ! his children thus to plun- der ! And could not all his troubles sore Arrefl his vile career, I wonder ? Mephiftopheles. But mark! his death wipes ofF the score. Were I in your place now, good lady ; lO 146 FAUST. One year I'd mourn him piously And look about, meanwhiles, for a new flame already. Martha, Ah, God ! another such as he I may not find with ease on this side heaven ! Few such kind fools as this dear spouse of mine. Only to roving he was too much given, And foreign women and foreign wine. And that accursed game of dice. Meph'iftopheles, Mere trifles these ; you need not heed 'em, If he, on his part, not o'er-nice, Winked at, in you, an occasional freedom. I swear, on that condition, too, I would, myself, 'change rings with you ! Martha. The gentleman is pleased to jefl now! Meph'iftopheles \aslde\, I see it's now high time I ftirred ! She'd take the very devil at his word. [To Margery.] How is it with your heart, my beft, now ? Margaret. What means the gentleman ? Mephiftopheles. \_aside\. Thou innocent youn^ heart ! lAhud.1 Ladies, farewell ! Margaret, Farewell ! Martha. But quick, before we part !— I'd like some witness, vouching truly FAUST. H7 Where, how and when my love died and was burled duly. I've always paid to order great attention, Would of his death read some newspaper mention. Mephiftopheles. Ay, my dear lady. In the mouths of two Good witnesses each word Is true ; I've a friend, a fine M\ow, who, when you desire, Will render on oath what you require. I'll bring him here. Martha. O pray, sir, do ! Mephiftopheles. And this young lady '11 be there too? Fine boy ! has travelled everywhere, And all politeness to the fair. Margaret. Before him fhame my face mufl cover Mephiftopheles. Before no king the wide world over I Martha. Behind the house, in my garden, at leisure, ^Ve'U wait this eve the gentlemen's pleasure. ^ X48 FAUST. STREET. Faust. Mephistopheles. FauJ}, How now? What progress? Will 't come right ? Mephiftopheles, Ha, bravo ? So you're all on fire ? Full soon you*ll see whom you desire. In neighbor Martha's grounds we are to meet to- night. That woman's one of nature's picking For pandering and gipsy-triclcing ! Fauft. So far, so good ! Mephiftopheles. But one thing we mufl do. Fauft, Well, one good turn deserves another, true. Mephiftopheles. We simply make a solemn depo- ♦ sition That her lord's bones are laid in good condition In holy ground at Padua, hid from view. FauJ}. That's wise ! But then we firfl: muft make the journey thither? Mephiftopheles. Sancta simpUcitas! no need of such to-do ; Juft swear, and a(k not why or whether. FauJ}. If that's the bcft you have, the plan's not worth a feather. FAUST. [49 I Mephiftopheles. O holy man ! now that's juft you ! In all thy life haft never, to this hour, To give false witness taken pains? Have you of God, the world, and all that It contains. Of man, and all that flirs within his heart and brains, Not given definitions with great power. Unscrupulous breafl:, unblufhing brow ? And if you search the matter clearly. Knew you as much thereof, to speak sincerely, As of Herr Schwerdtlein's death ? Confess it now ! Fauft. Thou always waft a sophift and a liar. Mephiftopheles. Ay, if one did not look a little ni2;her. For win you not. In honor, to-morrow Befool poor Margery to her sorrow, And all the oaths of true love borrow ? Fauft. And from the heart, too. Mephiftopheles, Well and fair ! Then there '11 be talk of truth unending. Of love o'ermaftering, all transcending — Will every word be heart-born there ? Fauft, Enough! It will ! — If, for the passion • That fills and thrills my being's frame, I find no name, no fit expression, Then, through the world, with all my senses, rang- iJ^g> b> Seek what moft ftrongly speaks the unchanging And call this glow, within me burning, 150 FAUST. Infinite — endless — endless yearning, Is that a devililh lying game ? Mephiftopheles, Vm right, nathless ! Fauft. Now, hark to mc — This once, I pray, and spare my lung?, old fellow — Whoever will be right, and has a tongue to bellow. Is sure to be. But come J enough of swaggering, let's be quit, For thou art right, because I mud submit. •9015 FAUST. 151 GARDEN. Margaret on Faust's arm. Martha 'witb Mephistopheles. [^Promenading up and doivn.'\ Margaret. The gentleman but makes me more confused With all his condescending goodness. Men who have travelled wide are used To bear with much from dread of rudeness ; I know too well, a man of so much mind In my poor talk can little pleasure find. Fauft. One look from thee, one word, delights me more Than this world's wisdom o'er and o'er. \_Kisses her bandJ] Margaret. Don't take that trouble, sir! How could you bear to kiss it ? A hand so ugly, coarse, and rough ! How much I've had to do ! muft I confess it — Mother is more than close enough. \JI%ey pass on."] Martha. And you, sir, are you always travelling so? Mephlftopheles. Alas, that business forces us to do it! With what regret from many a place we go, Though tendereft bonds may bind us to it! 152 FAUST. Martha. 'Twill do in youth's tumultuous maze To wander round the world, a careless rover ; But soon will come the evil days, And then, a lone dry ftick, on the grave's brink to hover, For that nobody ever prays. Mcph'iftopheles. The diftant prospea fhakcs my reason. Martha, Then, worthy sir, bethink yourself in season. [They pass on.'] Margaret. Yes, out of sight and out of mind ! Politeness you find no hard matter ; But you have friends in plenty, better Than I, more sensible, more refined. Fauft. Dear girl, what one calls sensible on earth, Is often vanity and nonsense. Margaret. How ? Fauft. Ah, that the pure and simple never know Aught of themselves and all their holy worth! That meekness, lowliness, the highell measure Of gifts by nature lavifhed, full and free — Margaret, One little moment, only, think of me, I fhall to think of you have ample time and leisure. Fauft. You're, may be, much abne ? Margaret. Our household is but small, I own. And yet needs care, if truth were known. Ot FAUST. 153 We have no maid ; so I attend to cooking, sweep- ing:. Knit, sew, do every thing, in fa^ ; And mother, in all branches of housekeeping, Is so exa6t ! Not that fhe need be tied so very closely down ; We might ftand hiojher than some others, rather j A nice eflate was left us by my father, A house and garden not far out of town. Yet, after all, my life runs pretty quiet j My brother is a soldier. My little sifter's dead ; With the dear child indeed a wearing life I led j And yet with all its plagues again would gladly try it, The child was such a pet. Faujl. An angel, if like thee ! Alar gar et. I reared her and (he heartily loved me. She and my father never saw each other. He died before her birth, and mother Was given up, so low fhe lay, But fhe, by flow degrees, recovered, day by day. Of course fhe now, long time so feeble. To nurse the poor little worm was unable, And so I reared it all alone. With milk and water j 'twas my own. Upon my bosom all day long It smiled and sprawled and so grew flrong. '54 FAUST. FAUST. 155 Fauft. Ah! thou haft truly known joy*s faireft flower, M'argaret. But no less truly many a heavy hour. The wee thing's cradle ftood at night Close to my bed ; did the leaft thing awake her. My flecp took flight ; *Twas now to nurse her, now in bed to take her, Then, if fhe was not ftill, to rise. Walk up and down the room, and dance away her cries. And at the wafh-tub ftand, when morning ftreaked the fkies; Then came the marketing and kitchen-tending, Day in, day out, work never-ending. One cannot always, sir, good temper keep ; But then it sweetens food and sweetens fleep. [They pass onS] Martha. But the poor women suffer, you muft own : A bachelor is hard of reformation. Mephiftopheks. Madam, it refts with such as you, alone, To help me mend my situation. Martha. Speak plainly, sir, has none your fancy taken ? Has none made out a tender flame to waken ? Mephiftopheks. The proverb says : A man's own hearth, And a brave wife, all gold and pearls are worth. Martha. I mean, has ne'er your heart been smit- ten flightly ? Alephiftopheles. I have, on every hand, been en- tertained politely. Martha, Have you not felt, I mean, a serious intention ? Mephiftopheks. Jefting with women, that's a thing one ne'er fhould mention. Martha, Ah, you misunderftand! Mephiftopheks. It grieves me that I fhould ! But this I underftand — that you are good. \Tl)ey pass on.] Faujl. So then, my little angel recognized me. As I came through the garden gate ? Margaret, Did not my downcaft eyes fhow you surprised me ? Fauft. And thou forgav'ft that liberty, of late ? That impudence of mine, so daring, As thou waft home from church repairing? Margaret. I was confused, the, like was new to me ; No one could say a word to my dishonor. Ah, thought I, has he, haply, in thy manner Seen any boldness — impropriety ? It seemed as if the feeling seized him. That he might treat this girl juft as it pleased him. Let me confess I I knew not from what cause, Some flight relentings here began to threaten danger; I 156 FAUST. I know, right angry with myself I was, That I could not be angrier with the ftranger. Fauft, Sweet darling ! Margaret. Let me once ! \She fuch a china-aster and picks off the leaves one after an other.'] Fauft, What*s that for ? A bouquet ? Margaret. No, juft for sport. Fauft. How ? Margaret. Go ! you'll laugh at me ; away ! \_She picks and murmurs to herself.] Fauft. What murmureR thou ? Margaret [half ahvd]. He loves me — loves me not. Fauft. Sweet fat z .' from heaven that look was caught ! Margaret [goes or}. Loves nic — not — loves me— not — [picking offfK' Ut L'cfuLUh te.jder joy] He loves me ! Faujl. Yes, my r\\\\ \ And le tVIs floral word An oracle to thee. He U>rts theo ! Knoweft thou all it mean-^^ ** He lov ii thee ! [Clasping ho*l /♦» lar.ds.j Margaret. What thrill is lM«ii Fauft, O, fhudder not I Thir iooi t^'^ryue. This pressure of the hand fhall t».li t^^ What cannot be expressed : I ♦ FAUST. 157 # Give thyself up at once and feel a rapture, An ecftasy never to end! Never ! — It's end were nothing but blank despair. No, unending! unending! [Margaret presses his bands^ extricates herself and runs aixjoy. He stands a moment in thought, then folh-vos her]. Martha [cQming\ The night falls faft. Mephiftopheles. Ay, and we muft away. Martha. If it were not for one vexation, I would insift upon your longer ftay. Nobody seems to have no occupation. No care nor labor, Except to play the spy upon his neighbor ; And one becomes town-talk, do whatsoe'er they may. But where's our pair of doves? Mephiftopheles. Flown up the alley yonder. Light summer-birds ! Martha. He seems attached to her. Mephiftopheles. No wonder. And fhe to him. So goes the world, they say. 1 158 FAUST. A SUMMER-HOUSE. Margaret [darts in, hides behind the door, presses the tip 0/ her finger to her lips, and peeps through the crack]. Margaret, He comes! Enter Faust. Fauft, Ah rogue, how fly thou art! I've caught thee ! \Kisses her?^ Margaret [embracing him and returning the kiss']. Dear good man ! I love thee from my heart! [Mephistopheles knocks.] Fauft [/tamping]. Who's there ? Mephiftopheles. A friend ! Fauft. A beaft ! Mephiftopheles. Time flies, I don't offend you? Martha [entering]. Yes, sir, 'tis growing late. Fauft. May I not now attend you ? Margaret. Mother would — Fare thee well ! Fauft. And muft I leave thee then? Farewell ! Martha. Ade ! Margaret. Till, soon, we meet again! [Exeunt Faust and Mephistopheles. Margaret. Good heavens I what such a man's one brain FAUST. Can in Itself alone contain! I blufli my rudeness to confess, And answer all he says with yes. Am a poor, ignorant child, don't see What he can possibly find in me. 159 [Exit. I i6o FAUST. WOODS AND CAVERN. Fauft [alone]. Spirit sublime, thou .gav'ft me, gav'ft me all For which I prayed. Thou dldft not lift in vain Thy face upon me in a flame of fire. Gav'ft me majeftic nature for a realm, The power to feel, enjoy her. Not alone A freezing, formal visit dldft thou grant ; Deep down into her breaft invltedft me To look, as if fhe were a bosom-friend. The series of animated things Thou bidft pass by me, teaching me to know My brothers in the waters, woods, and air. And when the ftorm-swept foreft creaks and groans, The giant pine-tree crafhes, rending off The neighboring boughs and limbs, and with deep roar The thundering mountain echoes to its fall, To a safe cavern then thou leadeft me, Showft me myself; and my own bosom's deep Myfterlous wonders open on my view. And when before my sight the moon comes up With soft effulgence ; from the walls of rock. From the damp thicket, flowly float around The silvery fhadows of a world gone by. And temper meditation's fterner joy. O I nothing perfed is vouchsafed to man : FAUST. i6i I feel it now! Attendant on this bliss. Which brings me ever nearer to the Gods, Thou gav'ft me the companion, whom I now No more can spare, though cold and insolent ; He makes me hate, despise myself, and turns Thy gifts to nothing with a word — a breath. He kindles up a wild-fire in my breaft. Of reftless longing for that lovely form. Thus from desire I hurry to enjoyment, And in enjoyment languifti for desire. Enter Mephistopheles. Mephiftopheles. Will not this life have tired you by and bye ? I wonder it so long delights you ? 'Tis well enough for once the thing to try ; Then off to where a new invites you ! Fauft. Would thou hadft something else to do. That thus to spoil my joy thou burncft. Mephiftopheles, Well I well I I'll leave thee, gladly too ! — Thou dar'ft not tell me that in earneft ! 'Tvvere no great loss, a fellow such as you. So crazy, snappifli, and uncivil. One has, all day, his hands full, and more too ; To worm out from him what he'd have one do, Or not do, puzzles e'en the very devil. Fauft. Now, that I like ! That's juft the tone! Wants thanks for boring me till I'm half dead I II l62 FAUST. FAUST. 163 Mephlftophcles. Poor son of earth, if left alone, What sort of life wouldft thou have led? How oft, hy methods all my own, I've chased the cobweb fancies from thy head ! And but for me, to parts unknown Thou from this earth hadft long since fled. What doft thou here through cave and crevice grop- ing ? Why like a horned owl sit moping ? And why from dripping stone, damp moss, and rotten wood Here, like a toad, suck in thy food ? Delicious pastime ! Ah, I see. Somewhat of Dodor sticks to thee. Fauft. What new life-power it gives me, canst thou guess — This conversation with the wilderness ? Ay, couldst thou dream how sweet the employment. Thou wouldst be devil enough to grudge me my en- joyment. Mephiftopheles. Ay, joy from super-earthly foun- tains ! By night and day to lie upon the mountains. To clasp in ecstasy both earth and heaven. Swelled to a deity by fancy's leaven. Pierce, like a nervous thrill, earth's very marrow, Feel the whole six days* work for thee too narrow. To enjoy, I know not what, in blest elation. Then with thy lavifh love overflow the whole crea- tion, Below thy sight the mortal cast. And to the glorious vision give at last — [xo/'/A a ges/ure'] I must not say what termination! Fauft. Shame on thee ! Mephiftopheles, This displeases thee ; well, surely, Thou haft a right to say "for fhame " demurely. One mufc not mention that to chaste ears — never, Which chafte hearts cannot do without, however. And, in one word, I grudge you not the pleasure Of lying to yourself in moderate measure ; But 'twill not hold out long, I know j Already thou art faft recoiling, And soon, at this rate, wilt be boiling With madness or despair and woe. Enough of this ! Thy sweetheart sits there lonely, And all to her is close and drear. Her thoughts are on thy image only. She holds thee, paft all utterance, dear. At iirft thy passion came bounding and rufhing Like a brooklet o'erfiowing with melted snow and rain ; Into her heart thou haft poured it gufliing : And now thy brooklet's dry again. Methinks, thy woodland throne resigning, 'Twould better suit so great a lord 1 64 TAVsr. The poor young monkey to reward For all the love with which (he's pining. She finds the time dismally long ; Stands at the window, sees the clouds on high Over the old town-wall go by. " Were I a little bird! " '^ so runneth her song All the day, half the night long. At times Ihe'll be laughing, seldom smile, At times wcpt-out fhe'll seem, Then again tranquil, you'd deem, — Lovesick all the while. Faiift, Viper! Viper! Meph'tftopheles [aside]. Ay! and the prey grows riper I Fauft. Reprobate! take thee far behind me! No more that lovely woman name ! Bid not desire for her sweet person flame Through each half-maddened sense, again to blind me! Mephiftcpheles, W^hat then's to do ? She fancies thou haft flown. And more than half fhe*s right, I own. Fauft, I'm near her, and, though far away, my word, IM not forget her, lose her ; never fear it! I envy e'en the body of the Lord, Oft as those precious lips of hers draw near it. FAUST. 165 Mephiftopheles, No doubt j and oft my envious thought reposes On the twin-pair that feed among the roses. Fauft, Out, pimp I Mephiftopheles, Well done ! Your jeers I find fair game for laughter. The God, who made both lad and lass. Unwilling for a bungling hand to pass. Made opportunity right after. But come ! fine cause for lamentation I Her chamber is your deftination. And not the grave, I guess. Fauft, V/hat arc the joys of heaven while her fond arms enfold me ? O let her klndlino; bosom hold me ! Feel I not always her diftress ? The houseless am I not ? the unbefriended ? The monfter without aim or reft ? That, like a cataract, from rock to rock descended To the abyss, with maddening greed posseft : She, on its brink, with childlike thoughts and lowly, — Perched on the little Alpine field her cot, — This narrow world, so ftill and holy Ensphering, like a heaven, her lot. And I, God's hatred daring. Could not be content The rocks all headlong bearing, i66 FAUST. FAUST. 167 ■* By me to ruins rent, — Her, yea her peace, muft I o'erwhelm and bury! This vi£llm, hell, to thee was necessary ! Help me, thou fiend, the pang soon ending! What muft be, let it quickly be ! And let her fate upon my head descending, Crufh, at one blow, both her and me. Mepbiftopheles. Ha! how it seethes again and glows I Go in and comfort her, thou dunce ! Where such a dolt no outlet sees or knows, He thinks he's reached the end at once. None but the brave deserve the fair! Thou haft had devil enough to make a decent fliow of. For all the world a devil in despair Is juft the insipideft thing I know of. MARGERY'S ROOM. Margery \at the spinn'wg-uuhecl alone]. My heart is heavy, My peace is o'er ; I never — ah ! never— Shall find it more. While him I crave, Each place is the grave. The world is all Turned into gall. My wretched brain Has loft its wits. My wretched sense Is all in bits. My heart is heavy. My peace is o'er ; I never — ah! never— Shall find it more. Him only to greet, I The ftreet look down, Him only to meet, I Roam through town. His lofty ftep. His noble height. His smile of sweetness. His eye of might. 1- r i68 FAUST. His words of magic, Breathing bliss, His hand's warm pressure And ah ! his kiss. My heart is heavy, My peace is o'er, I never — ah! never— Shall find it more. My bosom yearns To behold him again. Ah, could I find him " That befl of men ! I'd tell him then How I did miss him, And kiss him As much as I could, Die on his kisses I surely fhould 1 FAUST. Martha's garden. Margaret. Faust. 169 Margaret. Promise me, Henry. Fauft. What I can. Margaret. How is it now with thy religion, say ? I know thou art a dear good man, But fear thy thoughts do not run much that way. Faujt. Leave that, my child ! Enough, thou haft my heart j For those I love with life I'd freely part ; I would not harm a soul, nor of its faith bereave it. Margaret. That's wrong, there's one true faith- one muft believe it ? Fauft, Muft one \ Margaret. Ah, could I influence thee, deareft! The holy sacraments thou scarce revereft. Fauft. I honor them. Margaret. But yet without desire. Of mass and confession both thou 'ft lono; beg-un to tire. Believeft thou in God ? Fauft. ^1y darling, who engages To say, I do believe in God .'' The queftion put to priefts or sages : Their answer seems as if it sought To mock the aficer. 170 FAUST. Margaret, Then believ'ft thou not ? Fauft. Sweet face, do not misunderftand my thought ! Who dares express him ? And who confess him. Saying, I do beHeve ? A man's heart bearing. What man has the daring To say : I acknowledge him not ? The AU-enfolder, The All-upholder, Enfolds, upholds He not Thee, me, Himself? Upsprings not Heaven's blue arch high o'er thee? Underneath thee does not earth ftand faft ? Sce'ft thou not, nightly climbing. Tenderly glancing eternal ftars ? Am I not gazing eye to eye on thee ? Through brain and bosom Thron