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Charaflers in the Prologue for the Theatre. The Manager. The Dramatic Poet. Merrvman. CharaHers in the Prologue in Heaven. The Lord. Raphael '] Garriel > The Heavenly Host. Michael J M EPH ISTOPH ELES. Charaflers in the Tragedy. Faust. Mephistopheles. Wagner, a Student. Margaret. Martha, Margaret ' s neighbor. Valentine, Margaret ' s brother. Old Peasant. A Student. I ' Elizabeth, an acquaintance of Margaret' s. Erosch Rrander Siebel G u ests in Auerbach' s win e- cellar. Altmayer , Witches, old and young; Wizards, Will-o' -the- Wisp, Witch Pcdler, Protophantasmist, Servibilis, Monkeys, Spirits, fourneynien , Country-folk, Citizens, Beggar, Old Fortune- teller, Shepherd, Soldier, Students, etc. In the Intermezzo. Oberon. Ariel. Titania. Puck, etc., etc. 4 ^ V, ^ DEDICATION. D im forms, ye hover near, a shadowy train. As erst upon my troubl’d sight ye stole. Say, shall I strive to hold you once again ? Still for the fond illusion yearns my soul? Ye press around ! Come, then, resume your reign. As upwards from the vapory mist ye roll ; Within my breast youth’s throbbing pulses bound, Fann’d by the magic air that breathes your march around. Shades fondly lov’d appear, your train at- tending. And visions fair of many a blissful day ; First-love and friendship their fond accents blending. Like to some ancient, half expiring lay; Sorrow revives, her wail of anguish sending Back o’er life’s devious labyrinthine way. The dear ones naming who, in life’s fair morn. By Fate beguiled, from my embrace were torn. They hearken not unto my later song, 'I'he souls to whom my earlier lays I sang ; Dispers’d for ever is the friendly throng. Mute are the voices that responsive rang. My song resoundeth stranger crowds among, E’en their api)lause is to my heart a pang; And those who heard me once with joyful heart. If yet they live, now wander far ai>art. A strange unwonted yearning doth my soul, To yon calm solemn spirit-land, upraise; In faltering cadence now my numbers roll. As when, on harp FEolian, Zephyr plays; My pulses thrill, tears flow without control, A tender mood my steadfast heart o’ersways ; What I possess as from afar 1 see ; 'bhose I have lost become realities to me. 5 PROLOGUE FOR THE THEATRE. AIanager. Dramatic Poet. Merrv.man. Mana(;er. Ye twain, whom I so ott have found I'rue friends in trouble and distress, Say, in our sclieine on German ground. What prospedt have we of success? Fain would I jdease the public, win their thanks ; Because they live and let live, as is meet, d'he posts are now eredled and the planks, And all look forward to a festal treat. Their j)laces taken, they, with eyebrows rais’d. Sit ])atiently, and fain would be amaz’d. I know the art to hit the public taste. Yet so per])lcx’d I ne’er have been before ; ’Tis true, they’re not accustom’d to the best. But then they read immensely, that’s the bore. How make our entertainment striking, new. And yet significant and pleasing too? For to be jdain, I love to see the throng. As to our booth the living tide progresses; As wave on wave successive rolls along, And through heaven’s narrow portal forceful presses ; Still in broad daylight, ere the clock strikes four. With blows their way towards the box they take ; And, as for bread in famine, at the baker’s door. For tickets are content their necks to break. Such various minds the bard alone can sway. My friend, oh work this miracle to-day ! Poet. Oh speak not of the motley multi- tude. At whose aspedl the spirit wings its flight ; 0 Shut out the noisy crowd, whose vortex rude Still draws us downward with resistless might. Lead to some nook, where silence loves to brood. Where only for the bard blooms pure delight. Where love and friendship, gracious heavenly pair. Our hearts true bliss create, and tend with fostering care. What there up-welleth deep within the breast. What there the timid lip shap’d forth in sound, A failure now, now haply well express’d In the wild tumult of the hour is drown’d ; Oft doth the perfedl form then first invest The poet’s thought, when years have sped their round ; What dazzles satisfies the present hour. The genuine lives, of coming years the dower. Merrvman. This cant about posterity I hate ; About posterity were I to prate. Who then the living would amuse? For they Will have diversion, ay, and ’tis their due. A sprightly fellow’s presence at your play, Methinks, should always go for something too ; Whose genial wit the audience still inspires. Is not embittered by its changeful mood ; A wider circle he desires. To move with greater power, the multitude. To work, then ! Prove a master in your art ! Let phantasy with all her choral train. Sense, reason, feeling, passion, bear their part. But mark! let folly also mingle in the strain ! Manager. And, chief, let incidents enough arise ! A show they want; they come to feast their eyes. When stirring scenes before them are dis- play’d. At which the gaping crowd may wondering gaze. Your reputation is already made, 'I’he man you are all love to praise. The masses you alone through masses can subdue. Each then seledls in time what suits his bent. Bring much, you somewhat bring to not a few. And from the house goes every one content. You give a piece, in pieces give it, friend ! Such a ragout, success must needs attend ; ’Tis easy to serve up, as easy to invent. A finish’d whole what boots it to present ! ’Twill be in pieces by the public rent. Poet. How mean such handicraft as this you cannot feel ! I How it revolts the genuine artist’s mind ! j The sorry trash in which these coxcombs deal. Is here approved on principle, I find. Manager. Such a reproof disturbs me not a whit I Who on efficient work is bent. Must choose the fittest instrument. Consider ! ’tis soft wood you have to split ; Think too for whom you write, I pray ! One comes to while an hour away ; One from the festive board, a sated guest ; Others, more dreaded than the rest. From journal -reading hurry to the play. As to a masquerade, with absent minds, they press. Sheer curiosity their footsteps winging ; i Ladies display their persons and their dress, Adtors unpaid their service bringing. What dreams beguile you on your poet’s ' height ? What puts a full house in a merry mood ? More closely view your patrons of the night I > The half are cold, the other half are rude. One, the play over, craves a game of cards ; Another a wild night in wanton joy would spend. i Poor fool, the muses’ fair regards : Why court for such a paltry end ? I tell you, give them more, still more, ’tis all I ask. Thus you will ne’er stray widely from the goal ; Your audience seek to mystify, cajole ; — To satisfy them — that’s a harder task. What ails thee? art enraptur’d or distress’d ? Poet. Depart ! elsewhere another servant choose I What ! shall the bard his godlike power abuse? Man’s loftiest right, kind nature’s high bequest. For your mean purpose basely sport away? Whence comes his mastery o’er the human breast. Whence o’er the elements his sway. But from the harmony that, gushing from his soul. Draws back into his heart the wondrous whole ? When round her spindle, with unceasing drone. Nature still whirls th’ unending thread of life ; When Being’s jarring crowds, together thrown. Mingle in harsh inextricable strife; Who deals their course unvari’d till it falls. In rhythmic flow to music’s measur’d tone? Each solitary note whose genius calls. To swell the mighty choir in unison ? 2 1 7 Wlio in the raging storm sees passion lour, Or flush of earnest thought in evening’s glow, Who, in the springtide, every fairest flower Along the lov’d one’s path would strow? From green and common leaves whose hand doth twine. The wreath of glory, won in every field ? Makes sure Olympos, blends the powers di- vine ? — Man’s mighty spirit, in the bard reveal’d ! Merryman. Come then, employ your lofty inspiration. And carry on the poet’s avocation. Just as we carry on a love affair. Two meet by chance, are pleas’d they linger there. Insensibly are link’d, they scarce know how; Fortune seems now propitious, adverse now. Then come alternate rapture and despair ; And ’tis a true romance ere one’s aware. Just such a drama let us now compose. Plunge boldly into life — its depths disclose ! Each lives it, not to many is it known, ’Twill interest wheresoever seiz’d and shown ; Bright pidtures, but obscure their meaning: A ray of truth through error gleaming, Thus you the best elixir brew. To charm mankind, and edify them too. Then youth’s fair blossoms crowd to view your play. And wait as on an oracle ; while they. The tender souls, who love the melting mood. Suck from your work their melancholy food ; Now this one, and now that, you deej)ly stir. Each sees the working of his heart laid bare ; Their tears, their laughter, you command with ease. The lofty still they honor, the illusive love. Your finish’d gentlemen you ne’er can please; A growing mind alone will grateful prove. Poet. Then give me back youth’s golden prime. When my own spirit' too was growing. When from my heart th’ unbidden rhyme Gush’d forth, a fount for ever flowing; Then shadowy mist the world conceal’d. And every bud sweet promise made. Of wonders yet to be reveal’d. As through the vales, with blooms inlaid. Culling a thousand flowers I stray’d. Naught had I, yet a rich profusion ; The thirst for truth, joy in each fond illusion. Give me unquell’d those impulses to prove ; — Rapture so deep, its ecstasy was pain. I The power of hate, the energy of love. Give me, oh give me back my youth again ! Merryman. Youth, my good friend, you certainly require When foes in battle round you press. When a fair maid, her heart on fire. Hangs on your neck with fond caress. When from afar, the Yi6Ior’s crown. Allures you in the race to run ; Or when in reYelry you drown Your sense, the whirling dance being done. But the familiar chords among Boldly to sweep, with graceful cunning. While to its goal, the verse along Its winding path is sweetly running ; This task is yours, old gentlemen, to-day; Nor are you therefore in less reverence held ; Age does not make us childish, as folk say, It finds us genuine children e’en in eld. Manager. A truce to words, mere empty sound. Let deeds at length appear, my friends ! While idle compliments you round. You might achieve some useful ends. Why talk of the poetic vein ? Who hesitates will never know it; If bards ye are, as ye maintain. Now let your inspiration show it. To you is known what we require. Strong drink to sip is our desire ; Come, brew me such without delay ! To-morrow sees undone, what happens not to- day; Still forward press, nor ever tire ! The possible, with steadfast trust. Resolve should by the forelock grasp ; Then she will ne’er let go her clasp. And labors on, because she must. On German boards, you’re well aware. The taste of each may have full sway ; Therefore in bringing out your play. Nor scenes nor mechanism spare ! Heaven’s lamps employ, the greatest and the least. Be lavish of the stellar lights. Water, and fire, and rocky heights. Spare not at all, nor birds nor beast. Thus let creation’s ample sphere Forthwith in this our narrow booth appear. And with considerate speed, through fancy’s spell. Journey from heaven, thence through the world, to hell ! 8 PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. 'Fhe Lord. The Heavenly Hosts. After- wards Mephistopheles. The three Archangets come fonvard. Raphael. Stiil cjuiring as in ancient time With lirother spheres in rival song, The sun with thunder-marcli sublime Moves his predestin’d course along. Angels are strengthen’d by his sight, Though fathom him no angel may; Resplendent are the orbs of light. As on creation’s primal day. Gabriel. And lightly spins earth’s gor- geous sphere. Swifter than thought its rapid flight ; Alternates Eden-brightness clear. With solemn, dread-inspiring night; 'J'he foaming waves, witli murmurs hoarse. Against the rocks’ deejr base are hurl’d; .And in the s])here’s eternal course Are rocks and ocean swiftly whirl’d. Michael. And rival temiicsts rush amain From sea to land, from land to sea, .And raging form a wondrous chain Of dee]) mysterious agency ; Full in the thunder’s fierce career. Flaming the swift destrudlions [)lay; lint. Ford, thy messengers revere The mild jjrocession of thy day. The 'riiREE. Angels are strengthened by thy sight. Though fathom thee no angel may; d'hy works still shine with splendor bright. As on creation’s ])rimal day. 9 Mephistopheles. Since thou, O Lord, ap- ])roacliest us once more, And how it fares with us, to ask art fain. Since thou hast kindly welcom’d me of yore, I hou seest me also now among thy train. Excuse me, fine harangues I cannot make. Though all the circle look on me with scorn ; My ])athos soon thy laughter would awake, Hadst thou the laughing mood not long for- sworn. Of suns and worlds I nothing have to say, I see alone mankind’s self-torturing pains. The little world-god still the self-same stamp retains, .\nd is as wondrous now as on the primal day. Better he might have fared, poor wight, Hadst thou not given him a gleam of heavenly light; Reason he names it, and doth so Use it, than brutes more brutish still to grow. With deference to your grace, he seems to me Like any long-legged grasshopper to be. Which ever flies, and flying springs, .\nd in the grass its ancient ditty sings. Would he but always in the grass repose In every heap of dung he thrusts his nose. The Lord. Hast thou naught else to say? Is blame In coming here, as ever, thy sole aim? Does nothing on the earth to thee seem right? Mephis. No, Lord ! I find things there in miserable plight. Men’s wretchedne.ss in sooth I so deplore. Not even I would plague the sorry creatures more. The Lord. Knovv’st thou my servant, Faust ? Mephis. Thedodlor? 'I'he Lord. Right. Mephis. He serves thee in strange fashion, as I think. Poor fool ! Not earthly is his food or drink. An inward impulse hurries him afar. Himself half conscious of his frenzied mood; From heaven claimeth he its brightest star. And from the earth craves every highest good, .And all that’s near, and all that’s far. Fails to allay the tumult in his blood. The Lord. Though now he serves me with imperfedl sight, I will ere long conduft him to the light. The gard’ner knoweth, when the green ap- pears. That flowers and fruit will crown the coming \’ears. Mephis. What wilt thou wager? Him thou yet shalt lose. If leave to me thou wilt but give. Gently to lead him as I choose ! The Lord. So long as he on earth doth live. So long ’tis not forbidden thee. Man still must err, while he doth strive. Mephis. I thank you ; for not willingly I traffic with the dead, and still aver That youth’s plump blooming cheek I very much prefer. I’m not at home to corpses; ’tis my way. Like cats with captive mice to toy and play. The Lord. Enough! ’tis granted thee! Divert This mortal sjiirit from his primal source ; Him, canst thou seize, thy power exert And lead him on thy downward course. Then stand abash’d, when thou perforce must own, A good man, in the direful grasp of ill. His consciousness of right retaineth still. Mephis. Agreed! — the wager will be quickly won. For my success no fears I entertain ; And if my end I finally should gain. Excuse my triumphing with all my soul. 1 Dust he shall eat, ay, and with relish take. As did my cousin, the renowned snake. The Lord. Here too thou’rt free to adl without control ; I ne’er have cherished hate for such as thee. Of all the spirits who deny. The scoffer is least wearisome to me. Ever too prone is man adlivity to shirk. In uncondition’d rest he fain would live ; Hence this companion jiurposely I give. Who stirs, excites, and must, as devil, work. But ye, the genuine sons of heaven, rejoice ! In the full living beauty still rejoice ! May that which works and lives, the ever- growing. In bonds of love enfold you, mercy-fraught. And Seeming’s changeful forms, around you flowing. Do ye arrest, in ever-during thought ! \_Hcaven closes, the Airhangels disperse. Mephis. (Alone.) The ancient one I like sometimes to see. And not to break with him am always civil ; ’Tis courteous in so great a lord as he. To speak so kindly even to the devil. 10 Night. A high vaulted narrow Gothic chamber. Faus t, restless, seated at Jus desk. Faust. ERP2 have I, alas! Phil- osophy, Medicine, Jurisprudence too. And to mycost'I'heology, With ardent labor, studied through. And yet I stand, with all my lore. Poor fool, no wiser than be- fore. Magister, doctor styled, indeed, Already these ten years I lead. Up, down, across, and to and fro. My pupils by the nose, — and learn. That we in truth can nothing know ! 'I'his in my heart like fire doth burn. ’Tis true, Pve more cunning than all your dull tribe, Magister and doctor, priest, parson, and scribe ; Scruple or doubt comes not to enthrall me, Neither ran devil nor hell now a])pall me — Hence also my heart must all pleasure forego! I may not pretend, anght rightly to know, I may not [)retend, through teaching, to find A means to imjuove or convert mankind. 'I’hen I have neither goods nor treasure. No worldly honor, rank, or pleasure ; No dog in such fashion would longer live! Therefore myself to magic 1 give. In hope, through sjjirit-voice and might. Secrets now veiled to bring to light. That I no more, with aching l)iow. Need speak of what I nothing know; That I the force may recognize 'Fhat binds creation’s inmost energies; Her vital powers, her embryo seeds survey. And fling the trade in empty words away. O full-orb’d moon, did but thy rays 'I’heir last upon mine anguish gaze ! Beside this desk, at dead of night. 13 Oft have I watch’d to hail thy light: Then, pensive friend ! o’er book and scroll, With soothing power, thy radiance stole ! In thy dear light, ah, might I climb. Freely, some mountain heiglit sublime. Round mountain caves with spirits ride, In thy mild haze o’er meadows glide. And, purg’d from knowledge-fumes, renew My spirit, in thy healing dew ! Woe’s me ! still prison’d in the gloom Of thisabhorr’d and musty room, Where heaven’s dear light itself doth pass. But dimly tlirough the painted glass ! Hemmed in by volumes thick with dust, A prey to worms and mouldering rust. And to the high vault’s topmost bound. With smoky paper compass’d round ; With boxes round thee pil’d, and glass. And many a useless instrument. With old ancestral lumber blent — This is thy world ! a world ! alas ! And dost thou ask why heaves thy heart. With tigliten’d pressure in thy breast? Why the dull ache will not depart. By which thy life-pulse is oppress’d? Instead of nature’s living sphere. Created for mankind of old, Brute skeletons surround thee here. And dead men’s bones in smoke and mould. Up ! Forth into the distant land ! Is not this book of mystery By Nostradamus’ proper hand. An all-sufficient guide? Thou’ It see The courses of the stars unroll’d ; When nature doth her thoughts unfold I'o thee, thy soul shall rise, and seek Communion high with her to hold, As spirit doth with spirit speak ! Vain by dull poring to divine The meaning of each hallow’d sign. Spirits ! I feel you hov’ring near ; Make answer, if my voice ye hear ! \He opens the book and perceives the sign of the Alacrocosnios. Unveils the working of the wondrous whole? Am I a God ? What light intense ! In these pure symbols do I see Nature exert her vital energy. Now of the wise man’s words I learn the sense : “Unlock’d the spirit-world doth lie; Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead ! Up, scholar! lave, with courage high. Thine earthly breast in the morning-red !” \^He contejnplates the sign. How all things live and work, and ever blending. Weave one vast whole from Being’s ample range I How powers celestial, rising and descending. Their golden buckets ceaseless interchange I Their flight on rapture-breathing pinions winging. From heaven to earth their genial influence bringing. Through the wide sphere their chimes melo- dious ringing I A wondrous show ! but ah ! a show alone ! Where shall I grasp thee, infinite nature, where ? Ye breasts, ye fountains of all life, whereon Hang heaven and earth, from which the wither’d heart For solace yearns, ye still impart Your sweet and fostering tides — where are ye — where ? Ye gush, and must I languish in despair? \^He turns over the leaves of the book im- patiently, and perceives the sign of the Earth-spirit. How all unlike the influence of this sign I Earth-spirit, thou to me art nigher. E’en now my strength is rising higher, E’en now I glow as with new wine ; Courage I feel, abroad the world to dare, Tlie woe of earth, the bliss of earth to bear. To mingle with the lightning’s glare. And mid the crashing shipwreck not despair. All I at this specTacle through every sense. What sudden ecstasy of joy is flowing ! I feel new rapture, hallow’d and intense. Through every nerve and vein with ardor glowing. Was it a god who charadler’d this scroll. Which doth the inward tumult still. The troubled heart with rapture fill, And by a mystic impulse, to my soul. Clouds gather over me — 'I'he moon conceals her light — The lamp is quench’d — Vapors are rising — Quiv’ring round my head Flash the red beams — Down from the vaulted roof A shuddering horror floats. And seizes me ! I feel it, spirit, prayer-compell’d, ’tis thou 14 ARTIST : FRANZ SIMM. FAUST. FIRS'F PAR'l’. THE SI’IKIT AI'PEAHING TO FAUST. Art hovering near ! Unveil tliyself! Ha ! How my heart is riven now ! Each sense, with eager palpitation, Is strain’d to catch some new sensation ! I feel my- heart surrender’d unto thee ! 'I'hou must ! Thou must ! Though life should be the fee ! \_He seizes the hook, and pronounces jnys- terioHsly the sign of the spirit. A ruddy flame flashes tip ; the spirit appears in the flame. Spirit. Who calls me ? Faust. ( Turning aside.) Dreadful shape ! Spirit. With might. Thou hast compell’d me to appear. Long hast been sucking at my sphere. And now — Faust. Woe’s me ! I cannot bear thy sight. Spirit. To know me thou didst breathe thy prayer. My voice to hear, to gaze upon my brow ; Me doth thy strong entreaty bow— Lo ! I am here ! — What pitiful despair Grasps thee, the demigod! Where’s now the soul’s deep cry ? Where is the breast which in its depths a world conceiv’d And bore and cherish’d; which, with ecstasy. To rank itself with us, the spirits, heav’d? Where art thou, Faust? whose voice I heard resound. Who towards me press’d with energy pro- found? Art thou he? Thou — whom tlms my breath can blight. Whose inmost being with affright 'I'rembles, a crush’d and writhing worm ! Faust. Shall I yield, thing of flame, to thee? Faust, and thine equal, I am he ! Spirit. In the currents of life, in action’s storm, I float and I wave With billowy motion ! Birth and the grave, A limitless ocean, A constant weaving, With change still rife, A restless heaving, A glowing life — Thus time’s whirring loom unceasing I ]>ly. And weave the life-garment of deity. Faust. Thou, restless spirit, dost from end to end O’ersweep the world ; how near I feel to thee I Spirit. Thou’rt like the spirit, thou dost comprehend. Not me ! [ iPnishes. Faust. ( Deeply moved.) Not thee? Whom then? I, God’s own image! And not rank with thee ! \_A knock. O death ! I know it — ’tis my famulus— My fairest fortune now escapes ! That all these visionary shapes A soulless groveller should banish thus! [Wagner in his dressing-gown and night- cap, a lamp in his hand. Faust turns round reluPlantly. Wagner. Pardon ! I heard you here de- claim ; A Grecian tragedy you doubtless read? Improvement in this art is now my aim. For now-a-days it much avails. Indeed An actor, oft I’ve heard it said at least. May give instru6tion even to a priest. Faust. Ay, if your priest should be an actor too. As not improbably may come to pass. Wagner. When in his study pent the whole year through, Man views the world as through an optic glass. On a chance holiday, and scarcely then. How by persuasion can he govern men ? Faust. If feeling prompt not, if it doth not flow Fresh from the spirit’s depths, with strong control Swaying to rapture every listener’s soul. Idle your toil; the chase you may forego! Brood o’er your task ! Together glue. Cook from another’s feast your own ragout. Still prosecute your paltry game. And fan your ash-heaps into flame! Thus children’s wonder you’ll excite. And apes’, if such your appetite: But that which issues from the heart alone Will bend the hearts of others to your own. Wagner. The speaker in delivery will find Success alone; I still am far behind. Faust. A worthy object still pursue! Be not a hollow tinkling fool ! Sound understanding, judgment true. Find utterance without art or rule; And when with earnestness you speak, d'hen is it needful cunning words to seek? Your fine harangues, so jiolish’d in their kind, Wherein the shreds of human thought ye twist, Are unrefreshing as the emjity wind. 2—3 15 Wliistling tlirougli wither’d leaves and autumn mist ! Wagner. U Heavens! art is long and life i is short ! Still as 1 prosecute with earnest zeal The critic’s toil, I’m haunted by this thought, And vague misgivings o’er my spirit steal. The very means how hardly are they won And what a glorious height we have achiev’d at last. Faust. .\y truly I even to the loftiest star! To us, my friend, the ages that are ])ass’d A book with seven seals, close-fasten’d, are; .\nd what the s])irit of the times men call, Is merel)- their own s]hrit after all. Wherein, elistorted oft, the times are glass’d. By which we to the fountains rise! And, hajilv, ere one half the course is run. Check’d in his progress, the jioor devil lies. Faust. Parchment, is that the sacred fount whence roll Waters, he thirsteth not who once hath (inaffed ? Oh, if it gush not from thine inmost sord. Thou hast not won the life-restoring draught. Wagneiu Your jrardon ! ’tis delightful to trans])ort One’s self into the spirit of the past. To see in times before us how a wise man thought. Then truly, ’tis a sight to grieve the soul ! .'\t the first glance we fly it in dismay; A very Inmber-ioom, a rnbbish-hole; At best a sort of mo( k-heroic play. With saws ]jragmatical, and maxims sage, To suit the puppets and their mimic stage. Wagner, lint then the world and man, his heart and brain ! 'Pouching these things all men would sonre- thing know. Faust. Av ! what ’mong men as knowl- edge doth olttain ! Who on the child its true name dares bestow? i6 The few who somewhat of these things have known, Who their full hearts unguardedly reveal’d, Nor thoughts nor feelings from the mob con- ceal’d, Have died on crosses, or in flames been thrown. — Excuse me, friend, far now the night is spent. For this time we must say adieu. Wagner. Still to watch on I had been well content. Thus to converse so learnedly with you. But as to-morrow will be Easter-day, Some further questions grant, I pray; With diligence to study still I fondly cling; Already I know much, but would know every- thing. \^Exit. Faust. {Alone.') How he alone is ne’er bereft of hope, Who clings to tasteless trash with zeal untir’d, Who doth, with greedy hand, for treasure grope. And finding earth-worms, is with joy inspir’d ! And dare a voice of merely human birth. E’en here, where shapes immortal throng’d, intrude? Yet ah ! thou poorest of the sons of earth. For once, I e’en to thee feel gratitude. Despair the power of sense did well-nigh blast. And thou didst save me ere I sank dismay’d; So giant-like the vision seem’d, so vast, I felt myself shrink dwarf’d as I survey’d ! I, God’s own image, from this toil of clay Already freed, with eager joy who hail’d The mirror of eternal truth unveil’d. Mid light effulgent and celestial day — I, more than cherub, whose unfetter’d soul With penetrative glance aspir’d to flow Through nature’s veins, and, still creating, know The life of gods, — how am I punish’d now! One thunder-word hath hurl’d me from the goal ! Spirit ! I dare not lift me to thy sphere. What though my power compell’d thee to ap- pear. My art was powerless to detain thee here. In that great moment, rapture-fraught, I felt myself so small, so great ; Fiercely didst thrust me from the realm of thought Back on humanity’s uncertain fate ! Who’ll teach me now? What ought I to forego? Ought I that impulse to obey? Alas ! our every deed, as well as every woe. Impedes the tenor of life’s onward way ! E’en to the noblest by the soul conceiv’d. Some feelings cling of baser quality; And when the goods of this world are achiev’d. Each nobler aim is term’d a cheat, a lie. Our aspirations, our soul’s genuine life. Grow torpid in the din of earthly strife. Though }'outhful phantasy, while hope in- spires. Stretch o’er the infinite her wing sublime, A narrow compass limits her desires. When wreck’d our fortunes in the gulf of time. In the deep heart of man care builds her nest. O’er secret woes she broodeth there. Sleepless she rocks herself and scareth joy and rest ; Still is she wont some new disguise to wear; She may as house and court, as wife and child appear. As dagger, poison, fire and flood ; Imagin’d evils chill thy blood. And what thou ne’er shall lose, o’er that dost shed the tear. I am not like the gods ! Feel it I must ; I’m like the earth-worm, writhing in the dust, 1 Which, as on dust it feeds, its native fare, I Crush’d ’neath the passer’s tread, lies buried there. I Is it not dust, wherewith this lofty wall, I With hundred shelves, confines me round. Rubbish, in thousand shapes, may I not call What in this moth-world doth my being bound ? Here, what doth fail me, shall I find? Read in a thousand tomes that, everywhere. Self-torture is the lot of human-kind. With but one mortal happy, here and there? Thou hollow skull, that grin, what should it say. But that thy brain, like mine, of old per- plex’d. Still yearning for the truth, hath sought the light of day. And in the twilight wander’d, sorely vex’d? Ye instruments, forsooth, ye mock at me, — With wheel, and cog, and ring, and cylinder; To nature’s portals ye should be the key; Cunning your wards, and yet the bolts ye fail to stir. Inscrutable in broadest light. 17 To be unveil’d by force she doth refuse, What slie reveals not to thy mental sight, Thou wilt not wrest from her with levers and with screws. Old useless furnitures, yet stand ye here, Hecause my sire ye serv’d, now dead and gone. Old scroll, the smoke of years dost wear. So long as o’er this desk the sorry lamp hath shone. Better my little means have squander’d quite away. Than burden’d by that little here to sweat and groan ! Wouklst thou possess thy heritage, essay. By use to render it thine own ! What we emi)loy not, but impedes our way, 'Bhat which the hour creates, that can it use alone ! But wherefore to yon spot is riveted my gaze? Is yonder flasket there a magnet to my sight ? Whence this mild radiance that around me plays. As when, ’mid forest gloom, reigneth the moon’s soft light ? Mail, precious phial ! Thee, with reverent awe, Down from thine old receptacle I draw' ! Science in thee I hail and human art. Essence of deadliest powers, refin’d and sure, Of soothing anodynes abstradlion pure. Now in thy master’s need thy grace impart ! I gaze on thee, my pain is lull’d to rest ; I grasp thee, calm’d the tumult in my breast ; d'he flood-tide of my spirit ebbs away; Onward I’m summon’d o’er a boundless main, Calm at my feet expands the glassy plain, To shores unknow'ii allures a brighter day. Do, w here a car of fire, on airy pinion. Comes floating towards me ! I’m prepar’d to fly By a new' track through ether’s w'ide dominion, To distant spheres of jnire activity. 'I'his life intense, this godlike ecstasy — U’orm that thou art such rapture canst thou earn ? Only resolve with courage stern and high, 1 Thy visage from the radiant sun to turn ; Dare with determin’d will to burst the por- tals Bast which in terror others fain would steal ! Now is the time, through deeds, to show' that mortals The calm sublimity of gods can feel ; To shudder not at yonder dark abyss, W’here phantasy creates her own self-torturing brood. Right onw'ard to the yaw'iiing gulf to ])ress, Around whose narrow jaws rolleth hell’s fiery flood ; Wbth glad resolve to take the fatal leap, Though danger threaten thee, to sink in end- less sleep ! Pure crystal goblet, forth I draw' thee now. From out thine antiquated case, where thou Forgotten hast reposed for many a year ! Oft at my father’s revels thou didst shine. To glad the earnest guests was thine. As each to other pass’d the generous cheer, d'he gorgeous brede of figures, quaintly w'rought. Which he who quaff’d must first in rhyme ex- pound. Then drain the goblet at one draught pro- found. Hath nights of boyhood to fond memot)' brought. I to my neighbor shall not reach thee now. Nor on thy rich device shall I m\' cunning show. Here is a juice, makes drunk w’ithout delay ; Its dark brown flood thy crystal round doth fill ; Let this last draught, the produdi of my skill, My owm free choice, be quaff’d with resolute w'ill, A solemn festive greeting, to the coming day! [//c places the goblet to his mouth. [ The }-iuging of bells, and choral voices. iS Chorus of Angels. Christ is arisen ! Mortal, all hail to thee, Thou whom mortal- Earth’s sad reality. Held as in prison. Faust. What lunn melodious, what clear silvery chime. Thus draws the goblet from my lips away? Ye deeiJ-ton’d bells, do ye with voice sublime. Announce the solemn dawn of Easter-day? Sweet choir ! are ye the hymn of comfort sing- . I'lg, Which once around the darkness of the grave. From seraph-voices, in glad triumjjh ringing. Of a new covenant assurance gave? Chorus of Women. We, liis true-hearted. With spices and myrrh. Embalm’d the departed, And swath’d Him with care; Here we convey’d Him, Our Master, so dear ; Alas ! Where we laid Him, d'he Christ is not here. Chorus of .Angels. Christ is arisen ! berfedt through earthly ruth, Radiant with love and truth. He to eternal youth Soars from earth’s jtrison. Faust. Wherefore, ye tones celestial, sweet and strong. Come ye a dweller in the dust to seek? Ring out your chimes believing crowds among. The message well I hear, my faith alone is weak ; From faith her darling, miracle, hath S])rung. Aloft to yonder spheres I dare not soar, Whence sound the tidings of great joy ; And yet, with this sweet strain familiar when a boy. Rack it recalleth me to life once more. Then would celestial love, with holy kiss, Come o’er me in the Sabbath’s stilly hour, While, fratight with solemn meaning and mysterious power. Chim’d the deep-sounding bell, and ju'ayer was bliss; A yearning impulse, undefin’d yet dear. 19 Drove me to wander on through wood and field ; Whth heaving breast and many a burning tear, I felt with holy joy a world reveal’d. Gay sports and festive hours proclaim’d with joyous pealing, This Easter hymn in days of old ; And fond remembrance now doth me, with childlike feeling. Rack from the last, the solemn step, withhold. O still sound on, thou sweet celestial strain ! The tear-drop flows — Earth, I am thine again ! Chokusof Disciples. He whom we mourn’d as dead, Living and glorious. From the dark grave hath fled. O’er death vidtorious; Almost creative bliss Waits on his growing powers ; Ah ! Him on earth we miss ; Sorrow and grief are ours. Yearning He left his own, Mid sore annoy ; .\h ! we must needs bemoan, Master, thy joy ! Chorus ok Angels. Christ is arisen. Redeem’d from decay. The bonds which imprison Your souls, rend away ! Praising the Lord with zeal. By deeds that love reveal. Like brethren true and leal Sharing the daily meal, d'o all that sorrow feel Whisp’ring of heaven’s weal. Still is the Master near. Still is He here ! 20 With you he’ll walk, he’ll dance with none but you, And with your pleasures what have I to do? The Second. To-day he will not be alone, he said His friend would be with him, the curly-head. Student. Why how those buxom girls step on ! Come, brother, we will follow them anon. Strong beer, a damsel smartly dress’d. Stinging tobacco, — these I love the best. Burgher’s Daughier. Look at those handsome fellows there! ’Tis really shameful, I declare. The very best society they shun. After those servant-girls forsooth, to run. Second Student. ( To the first ) Not quite so fast ! for in our rear. Two girls, well-dress’d, are drawing near; Not far from us the one doth dwell. And sooth to say, I like her well. 'I'hey walk demurely, yet you’ll see. That they will let us join them presently. The First. Not I! restraints of all kinds I detest. Quick ! let us catch the wild-game ere it flies, 'I'he hand on Saturday the mop that i)lies Will on the Sunday fondle you the best. Burgher. No, this new Burgomaster, I like him not ; each hour He grows more arrogant, now that he’s rais’d to power ; And for the town, what doth he do for it? Are not things worse from day to day ? To more restraints we must sulmiit ; And taxes more than ever pay. Beggar. (Sings.) Kind gentlemen and ladies fair. Before the Gate. Promenaders of all sorts pass out. Artisans. Why choose ye that diredtion, pray ? Others. To the hunting-lodge we’re on our way. The First. We towards the mill are strolling on. A Mechanic. A walk to Wasserhof were best. A Second. The road is not a jileasant one. 'J'he (J'i hers. What will you do ? .A Third. Fll join the rest. A Fourth. Let’s uj) to Burghof, there you’ll find good cheer. The prettiest maidens and the best of beer. And brawls of a prime sort. A Fifth. You scapegrace ! How ! Your skin still itching for a row? Thither I will not go, I loathe the place. Servant Girl. No, no ! I to the town my steps retrace. Another. Near yonder poplars he is sure to be. The First. And if he is, what matters it to me ! 21 So rosy-cheek’d and trimly dress’d, lie pleas’d to listen to my prayer, Relieve and pity the distress’d. Let me not vainly sing my lay! His heart’s most glad w ho.se hand is free. Now when all men kee[j holiday. Should be a harvest-day to me. .Another Burgher. 1 know naught better on a holiday, Than chatting about war and war’s alarms; A\’hen folk in Turkey are all up in arms. Fighting their deadly battles far away. We at the window stand, our glasses drain. And watch adown the stream the painted vessels glide, Then, blessing peace and peaceful times, again Homeward we turn our steps at eventide. Third Burgher. Ay, neighbor! So let matters stand for me ! There they may scatter one another’s brains, And wild confusion round them see — So here at home in quiet all remains ! Oi D Woman. ( To the Burghers’ Daugh- ters, j Heyday! How smart! 'The fresh young blood ! ^\'ho would not fall in love with you ? Not le sheet. Many a gay wherry glides along ! And see, deej) sinking in the tide. Pushes the last boat now away. E’en from yon far hill’s path-worn side. Flash the bright hues of garments gay. Hark ! Sounds of village mirth arise ; This is the people’s paradise. Both great and small send up a cheer ; Here am I man, I feel it here. Wagner. Sir Dodlor, in a walk with you There’s honor and instrudlion too; Yet here alone I care not to resort. Because I coarseness hate of every sort. This fiddling, shouting, skittling, I detest; I hate the tumult of the vulgar throng; 'Bhey roar as by the evil one possess’d. And call it pleasure, call it song. 22 ARTIST : FRANZ SIMM. FAUSr. FIRST PART. UNDER THE LINDEN TREE. Peasants, f Under the linden tree.) Dance and song. The shepherd for the dance was dress’d, With ribbon, wreath and colored vest, A gallant show displaying. And round about the linden tree, They footed it right merrily. Juchhe ! Juchhe ! Juchheisa ! Heisa ! He ! So fiddle-bow was braying. Our swain amidst the circle press’d. He push’d a maiden trimly dress’d. And jogg’d her wnth his elbow ; The buxom damsel turn’d her head, “ Now that’s a stupid trick !” she said, Juchhe! Juchhe! Juchheisa ! Heisa ! He ! Don’t be so rude, good fellow! Swift in the circle they advance. They dance to right, to left they dance. The skirts abroad are swinging. And they grow red, and they grow warm. Elbow on hip, they arm in arm, Juchhe! Juchhe! Juchheisa ! Heisa ! He ! Rest, talking now or singing. Don’t make so free ! How many a maid Has been betroth’d and then betray’d ; And has repented after ! Yet still he flatter’d her aside. And from the linden, far and wide, Juchhe! Juchhe! Juchheisa! Heisa! He! Sound fiddle-bow and laughter. Or.D Peasant. Do6lor, ’tis really kind of you. To condescend to come this way, A highly learned man like you. To join our mirthful throng to-day. Our fairest cup I offer you. Which we with sparkling drink have crown’d. And pledging you, I pray aloud. That every drop within its round, \Vhile it your jmesent thirst allays. May swell the number of your days. P’aust. I take the cup you kindly reach. Thanks and prosperity to each ! [ The cnnvd gather round in a circle. Old Peasant. Ay, truly ! ’tis well done, that you Our festive meeting thus attend ; You, who in evil days of yore. So often show’d yourself our friend ! Full many a one stands living here. Who from the fever’s deadly blast. Your father rescued, when his skill 'Dv fatal sickness stay’d at last. A young man then, each house you sought, Where reign’d the mortal iiestilence. Corpse after corpse was carried forth, P)Ut still unscath’d you issued thence. Sore then your trials and severe ; The Helper yonder aids the helper here. All. Heaven bless the trusty friend, an& long To help the poor his life prolong ! Faust. To Him above in homage bend. Who prompts the helper and Who help doth send. \He proceeds with Wagner. Wagner. With what emotions must your heart o’erflow. Receiving thus the reverence of the crowd ! Great man ! How happy, who like you doth know Such use for gifts by heaven bestow’d ! You to the son the father shows ; They press around, inquire, advance, Hush’d is the fiddle, check’d the dance. Still where you pass they stand in rows. And each aloft his bonnet throws. They fall upon their knees, almost As when there passeth by the Host. Faust. A few steps further, up to yonder stone ! Here rest we from our walk. In times long past. Absorb’d in thought, here oft I sat alone. And disci[)lin’d myself with prayer and fast. 'I'hen rich in hope, with faith sincere. With sighs, and hands in anguish press’d. The end of that sore plague, with many a tear. From heaven’s dread Lord, I sought to wrest. These praises have to me a scornful tone. (Jh, could’st thou in my inner being read. How little either sire or son. Of such renown deserve the meed ! My sire, of good repute, and sombre mood. O’er nature’s powers and every mystic zone. With honest zeal, but methods of his own, Whth toil fantastic: loved to brood ; His time in dark alchemic cell, With brother adepts he would spend, And there antagonists compel, 'bhrough numberle.ss receipts to blend. [ .'\ ruddy lion there, a suitor bold. In tepid bath was with the lily wed. Thence both, while open flames around them roll’d, 23 Were tortur’d to anotlier bridal bed. Was then the youtliful queen descri’d Whth many a line, to c rown the task ; — 'I'his was our medicine; the jiatients died, “ Who were restor’d ?” none car’d to ask. \Vhtli our infernal mixture thus, ere long, These hills and peaceful vales among, We rag’d more fiercely than the pest ; Myself the deadly poison did to thousands give ; They jiined away, I yet must live. To hear the reckless murderers blest. Wa(;ner. Why let this thought your soul o’ercast? Can man do more than with nice skill. With firm and conscientious will, Pradlise the art transmitted from the past? If duly you revere your sire in youth. His lore you gladly will receive ; In manhood, if you spread Uie bounds of truth. Then may your son a higher goal achieve. Faust. O blest, whom still the hope in- .spires. To lift himself from error’s turbid flood ! \\’hat a man knows not, he to use requires. And what he knows, he cannot use for good. But let not moody thoughts their shadow throw O’er the calm beauty of this hour serene ! In the rich sunset see how brightly glow Yon cottage homes, girt round with verdant green ! Slow sinks the orb, the day is now no more ; Yonder he ha.stens to diffuse new life. Oh for a pinion from the earth to soar, And after, ever after him to strive ! Then should I see the world below. Bath’d in the deathless evening beams, The vales reposing, every height a-glow, 'I’he silver brooklets meeting golden streams, d'he .savage mountain, with its cavern’d side. Bars not my godlike progress. Lo, the ocean. Its warm bays heaving with a tranquil motion, 'I'o my rapt vision opes its ample tide 1 But now at length the god appears to sink ! A new-born impulse wings my flight. Onward I press, his quenchless light to drink, d'he day before me, and behind the night. The pathless waves beneath, and over me the skies. Fair dream, it vanish’d with the parting day 1 Alas ! that when on spirit-wing we rise. No wing material lifts our mortal clay. But ’tis our inborn impulse, deep and strong. Upwards and onwards still to urge our flight. When far above us pours its thrilling song d’he sky-lark, lost in azure light. When on extended wing amain O’er pine-crown’d height the eagle soars, And over moor and lake, the crane Still striveth towards its native shores. Wagner. To strange conceits oft I myself must own. But impulse such as this I ne’er have known ; Nor woods, nor fields, can long our thoughts . engage. Their wings I envy not the feather’d kind ; Far otherwise the pleasures of the mind. Bear us from book to book, from page to page ! 24 Then winter nights grow cheerful ; keen delight Warms every limb ; and ah ! when we unroll Some old and precious parchment, at the sight All heaven itself descends upon the soul. Faust. Your heart by one sole impulse is possess’d ; Unconscious of the other still remain ! Two souls, alas! are lodg’d within my breast. Which struggle there for undivided reign: One to the world, with obstinate desire. And closely-cleaving organs, still adheres ; .Above the mist, the other doth aspire. With sacred vehemence, to purer spheres. Oh, are there spirits in the air. Who float ’twixt heaven and earth dominion wielding. Stoop hither from your golden atmosphere. Lead me to scenes, new life and fuller yielding ! A magic mantle did I but possess, Abroad to waft me as on viewless wings. I’d prize it far beyond the costliest dress. Nor would I change it for the robe of kings. Wagner. Call not the spirits who on mis- chief wait ! Their troop familiar, streaming through the air. From every tpiarter threaten man’s estate. And danger in a thousand forms prepare 1 d’hey drive impetuous from the frozen north. With fangs sharp-piercing, and keen arrowy tongues. ; From the ungenial east they issue forth. And prey, with j)arching breath, upon your lungs; If, wafted on the desert’s flaming wing, 'I'hey from the south heap fire upon the brain, Refreshment from the west at first they bring. Anon to drown thyself and field and plain. In wait for mischief, they are prompt to hear; With guileful purpose our behests obey; Like ministers of grace they oft appear. And lisp like angels, to betray. But let us hence ! Gray eve doth all things blend. The air grows chill, the mists de.scend ! ’Tis in the evening first our home we prize — Why stand you thus, and gaze with wondering eyes ? What in the gloom thus moves you ? Faust. Yon black hound Seest thou, through corn and stubble scamper- ing round ? Wagner. I’ve mark’d him long, naught strange in him I see ! Faust. Note him ! . What takest thou the brute to be ? Wagner. But for a poodle, whom his in- stinbl serves His master’s track to find once more. Faust. Dost mark how round us, with wide spiral curves. He wheels, each circle closer than before? And, if I err not, he appears to me .A fiery whirlpool in his track to leave. Wagner. Naught but a poodle black of hue I see ; ’Tis some illusion doth your sight deceive. Faust. Methinks a magic coil our feet around. He for a future snare doth lightly spread. Wagner. Around us as in doubt I see him shyly bound. Since he two strangers seeth in his master’s stead. Faust. The circle narrows, he’s already near. Wagner. A dog dost see, no spebtre have we here ; 25 He growls, doubts, lays him on his belly too. And wags his tail — as dogs are wont to do. Faust. Come hither. Sirrah ! join our company ! Wagner. A very poodle, he appears to be ! 'I'liou standest still, for thee he’ll wait ; 'I'hou speak’st to him, he fawns uj)on thee straight ; .\ light you may lose, again he’ll bring. And for your stick will into water sjiring. Faust. Thoii’rt right indeed ; no traces now I see Whatever of a spirit’s agency. ’Tis training- — nothing more. ^VAGNER. A dog well taught E’en by the wisest of us may be sought. Ay, to your favor he’s entitled too. Apt scholar of the students, ’tis his due ! \_They enter the gate of the town. Study. Faust. ( Entering with the poodle. ) Behind me now lie field and plain. As night her veil doth o’er them draw. Our better soul resumes her reign With feelings of foreboding awe. Lull’d is each stormy deed to rest. And tranquilliz’d each wild desire; Pure charity doth warm the breast. And love to God the soul inspire. Peace, poodle, peace ! Scamper not thus ; obey me ! Why at the threshold snuffest thou so ? Behind the stove now quietly lay thee. My softest cushion to thee I’ll throw. As thou, without, didst please and amuse me. Running and frisking about on the hill. Neither shelter will I refuse thee ; A welcome guest, if thou’ It be still. .Ah ! when within our narrow room The friendly lamp again doth glow. An inward light dispels the gloom In hearts that strive themselves to know. Reason begins again to speak. Again the bloom of hope returns. The streams of life we fain would seek. Ah, for life’s source our spirit yearns. Cease, poodle, cease ! with the tone that arises, Hallow’d and peaceful, my soul within, .Accords not thy growl, thy bestial din. We find it not strange, that man despises What he conceives not ; The good and the fair he misprizes ; What lies beyond him he doth contemn ; Snarleth the poodle at it, like men ? But ah ! E’en now I feel, howe’er I yearn for rest. Contentment welleth up no longer in my breast. Yet wherefore must the stream, alas, so soon be dry. That we once more athirst should lie? I This sad experience oft I’ve approv’d ! 'I'lie want admitteth of compensation ; We learn to ])iize what from sense is remov’d. Our spirits yearn for revelation. Which nowhere burneth with beauty blent. More pure than in the New Testament. To the ancient text an imjmlse strong Moves me the volume to explore. And to translate its sacred lore, Into the tones beloved of the German tongue. [//c opens a volnine and applies himself to it. ’I'is writ, “ In the beginning was the Word !” I jiause, perplex’d ! Who now will help afford ? I cannot the mere Word so highly prize; I must translate it otherwise. If by the spirit guided as I read. “In the beginning was the Sense !” Take heed. The import of this juimal sentence weigh. Lest thy too hasty jien be led astray ! Is force creative then of Sense the dower? “In the beginning was the Power!” Thus should it stand : yet, while the line I trace, A something warns me, once more to efface. The spirit aids! from anxious scruples freed, I write, “In the beginning was the Deed !” Am. I with thee my room to share. Poodle, thy barking now forbear, Forbear thy howling ! Comrade so noisy, ever growling, I cannot suffer here to dwell. One or the other, mark me well, P'orthwith must leave the cell. I’m loath the guest-right to withhold; The door’s ajar, the passage clear; But what must now mine eyes behold ! Are nature’s laws suspended here? Real is it, or a phantom show? In length and breadth how doth my poodle grow ! He lifts himself with threat’ning mien. In likeness of a dog no longer seen ! j What spedtre have I harbor’d thus ! I Huge as a hippopotamus. With fiery eye, terrific tooth ! Ah ! now I know thee, sure enough ! For such a base, half-hellish brood, i The key of Solomon is good. 26 Spirits. (Without.) Captur’d there within is one ! Stay witliont and follow none! Lake a fox in iron snare, Hell’s old lynx is quaking there, But take heed ! Plover round, above, below. To and fro. Then from durance is he freed ! Can ye aid him, spirits all. Leave him not in mortal thrall! Many a time and oft hath he Served us. when at liberty. Faust, d'he monster to confront, at first. The spell of Four must be rehears’d ; Salamander shall kindle. Writhe nymph of the wave. In air sylph shall dwindle. And Kobold shall slave. Who doth ignore 'I'he primal Four, Nor knows aright Their use and might. O’er sjhrits will he Ne’er master be ! n \';inish in the fiery glow, Salamander ! Rushingly together flow, Undine ! Shimmer in the meteor’s gleam, Sylphide ! Hither bring thine homely aid. Incubus! Incubus! Step forth ! 1 do adjure thee thus ! None of the Four Lurks in the beast: 1 le grins at me, untroubled as before ; I have not hurt him in the least. A spell of fear Thou now shalt hear. Art thou, comrade fell. Fugitive from Hell? See then this sign. Before which incline The murky troops of Hell ! W ith bristling hair now doth the creature swell. Canst thou, reprobate. Read the uncreate. Unspeakable, diffused 'bhroughout the heavenly sphere, Sliamefully abused. Transpierc’d with nail and spear ! Behind the stove, tam’d by my spells. Like an elephant he swells; Wholly now he fills the room, He into mist will melt away. Ascend not to the ceiling ! Come, Thyself at the master’s feet now lay! d'hou seest that mine is no idle threat. ^\'ith holy fire I will scorch thee yet ! Wait not the might That lies in the triple-glowing light ! ^\’ait not the might Of all my arts in fullest measure ! Mephis. (As the mist sinks, comes forivard from behind the stove, in the dress of a travelling scholar . ) Why all this uproar? What’s the master’s pleasure ? Faust. This then the kernel of the brute! A travelling scholar? Why I needs must smile. MEPttis. Your learned reverence humbly I salute ! You’ve made me swelter in a pretty style. Faust. Thy name? Mephis. The question trifling seems from one. Who it appears the Word doth rate so low ; Who, undeluded by mere outward show. To Being’s depths would penetrate alone. Faust. With gentlemen like you indeed The inward essence from the name we read. As all too jilainly it doth appear. When Beelzebub, Destroyer, Liar, meets the ear. \\'ho then art thou ! Mephis. Part of that power which still Produceth good, whilst ever scheming ill. Faust. W’hat hidden mystery in this riddle lies? I Mephis. The spirit I, which evermore de- nies ! And justly; for whate’er to light is brought Deserves again to be reduc’d to naught ; ^ Then better ’twere that naught should be. Thus all the elements which ye ' Destrudfion, Sin, or briefly. Evil, name, ! As my peculiar element I claim, j Faust. Thou nam’st thyself a part, and yet a whole I see. I Mephis. The modest truth I speak to thee. I Though folly’s microcosm, man, it seems. Himself to be a perfedt whole esteems. Part of the part am I, which at the first was all. A part of darkness, which gave birth to light. Proud light, who now his mother would enthrall. Contesting space and ancient rank with night. Yet he succeedeth not, for struggle as he will. To forms material he adhereth still ; From them he streameth, them he maketh fair. And still the progress of his beams they check ; And so, I trust, when comes the final wreck. Light will, ere long, the doom of matter share. Faust. Thy worthy avocation now I guess ! Wholesale annihilation won’t prevail. So thou’rt beginning on a smaller scale. Mephis. And, to say truth, as yet with small success. Oppos’d to nothingness, the world. This clumsy mass, subsisteth still ; Not yet is it to ruin hurl’d. Despite the efforts of my will. Tempests and earthquakes, fire and flood, I’ve tried ; Yet land and ocean still unchang’d abide! And then of humankind and beasts, the ac- cursed brood, — Neither o’er them can I extend my sway. I What countless myriads have I swept away ! i Yet ever circulates the fresh young blood. 28 FAUS'r. ARTIST : FRANZ SIMM. THE VIbJON OF FAUST. It is enough to drive me to despair ! As in the earth, in water, and in air. In moisture and in drought, in heat and cold. Thousands of germs their energies unfold ! If fire I had not for myself retain’d. No sphere whatever had for me remain’d. Faust. So thou with thy cold devil’s fist. Still clench’d in malice impotent. Dost the creative power resist. The adtive, the beneficent ! Henceforth some other task essay. Of Chaos thou the wondrous son ! Mephis. We will consider what you say. And talk about it more anon ! For this time have I leave to go? Faust. Why thou shouldst ask, I cannot see. Since one another now we know. At thy good pleasure, visit me. Here is the window, here the door. The chimney, too, may serve thy need. Mephis. I must confess, my stepping o’er Thy threshold a slight hindrance doth im- pede; The wizard-foot doth me retain. Faust. The pentagram thy peace doth mar? To me, thou son of hell, explain. How earnest thou in, if this thine exit bar ! Could such a spirit aught ensnare? Mephis. Observe it well, it is not drawn with care. One of the angles, that which points without. Is, as thou seest, not quite closed. Faust. Chance hath the matter happily dispos’d ! So thou my captive art ? No doubt ! By accident thou thus art caught ! Mephis. In sprang the dog, indeed, observ- ing naught ; Things now assume another shape. The devil’s in the house and can’t escape. Faust. Why through the window not with- draw ? Mephis. For ghosts and for the devil ’tis a law. Where they stole in, there they must forth. We’re free The first to choose; as to the second, slaves are we. Faust. E’en hell hath its peculiar laws, I see ! I’m glad of that! a pa6I may then be made. The which, you gentlemen, will surely kee]>? Mephis. Whate’er therein is promis’d thou shalt reap. No tittle shall remain unpaid. But such arrangements time require; We’ll speak of them when next we meet; Most earnestly I now entreat. This once permission to retire. Faust. Another moment prithee here re- main. Me with some happy word to pleasure. Mephis. Now let me go ! ere long I’ll come again. Then thou mayst question at thy leisure. Faust. To capture thee was not my will. Thyself hast freely entered in the snare: Let him who holds the devil, liold him still ! A second time so soon he will not catch him there. Mephis. If it so please thee. I’m at thy command ; Only on this condition, understand ; That worthily thy leisure to beguile, I here may exercise my arts awhile. Faust. Thou’ rt free to do so ! Gladly I’ll attend ; But be thine art a pleasant one ! Mephis. My friend. This hour enjoyment more intense. Shall captivate each ravish’d sense. Than thou could’st compass m the bound Of the whole year’s unvarying round ; And what the dainty spirits sing. The lovely images they bring. Are no fantastic sorcery. I Rich odors shall regale your smell. On choicest sweets your palate dwell. Your feelings thrill with ecstasy. No preparation do we need. Here we together are. Proceed ! Spirits. Hence overshadowing gloom Vanish from sight ! O’er us thine azure dome. Bend, beauteous light! Dark clouds that o’er us spread. Melt in thin air ! Stars, your soft radiance shed. Tender and fair. Girt with celestial might. Winging their airy flight. Spirits are thronging. Follows their forms of light Infinite longing ! Flutter their vestures bright O’er field and grove ! Where in their leafy bower Lovers the livelong hour Vow deathless love. Soft bloometh bud and bower ! Bloometh the grove ! Grapes from the spreading vine 29 Crown the full measure; Fountains of foaming wine Gush from the pressure. Still where the currents wind, Gems brightly gleam. Leaving the hills behind ( )n rolls the stream ; Now into ample seas, Spieadeth the Hood ; l.a\ ing the sunny leas. Mantled with wood. Rapture the feather’d throng, Gayly careering, Sip as they Hoat along ; Sunward they’re steering ; On towards the isles of light Winging their way. That on the waters bright 1 tancingly play. Hark to the choral strain. Joyfully ringing ! While on the grassy plain Dancers are springing ; Climbing the steep hill’s side, .Skimming the glassy tide. Wander they there; Others on pinions wide Wing the blue air ; On towards the living stream. Towards yonder stars that gleam, Far, far away ; Seeking their tender beam Wing they their way. Mkphis. Well done, my dainty spirits ! now he slumbers ; Ye have entranc’d him fairly with your num- bers ; This minstrelsy of yours I must repay. — Thou art not yet the man to hold the devil fast ! — With fairest shapes your spells around him cast. And plunge him in a sea of dreams! But that this charm be rent, the threshold pass’d, I'ooth of rat the way must clear. I need not conjure long it seems. One rustles hitherward, and soon my voice will hear. The master of the rats and mice. Of flies and frogs, of bugs and lice. Commands thy presence; without fear C'ome forth and gnaw the threshold here, \Vhere he with oil has smear’d it. — Thou Com’st hopping forth already ! Now 'I'o work ! 'riie jtoint that holds me bound Is in the outer angle found. Another bite — so — now ’tis done — Now, Faustus, till we meet again, dream on. Faust. (Aioaking^.) Am I once more de- luded ! must I deem 'I'his troop of thronging spirits all ideal? 'I'he devil’s presence, was it nothing real? The poodle’s disairpearance but a dream? 7,0 Stiii/y. Faust. Mephistoitieles. Faust. A knock? Come in ! Who now would break my rest ? Mephis. ’Tis I ! Faust. Come in ! Mephis. Tlirice lie the words exiiress’d. Faust. Then 1 repeat, Come in ! Mephis. ’ d'is well, I hope that we shall soon agree ! For now your fancies to ex[iel. Here, as a youth of high degree, 1 come in gold-lac’d scarlet vest. And stiff silk mantle richly dress’d, .\ cock’s gay feather for a plume, .'V long and pointed raiuer, too ; And briefly I would counsel you To don at once the same costume. And, free from trammels, speed away. That what life is you may essay. Faust. In every garb 1 needs muit feel oppress’ d , My heart to earth’s low cares a prey. Too old the trifler’s part to play. Too young to live by no desire ])ossess’il. What can the world to me afford ? Renounce ! renounce ! is still the word ; 'I'his is the everlasting song In every ear that ceaseless rings, And which, alas, our whole life long. Hoarsely each passing moment sings. But to new horror I awake each morn, .\nd I could weep hot tears to see the sun Dawn on another day, whose round forlorn Accomplishes no wish of mine — not one; Which still, with froward captiousness, im- pairs F’en the presentiment of every joy. While low realities and paltry cares 'I'he spirit’s fond imaginings destroy. And must I then, when falls the veil of night. Stretch’d on my pallet languish in despair; Appalling dreams my soul affright ; No rest vouchsaf’d me even there. The god, who thron’d within my breast resides, Deej) in my soul can stir the s|)rings ; With sovereign sway my energies he guides. He cannot move external things; .\nd so existence is to me a weight. Death fondly I desire, and life I hate. Mephis. And yet, methinks, by most ’twill be confess’d 'Fhat Death is never cpiite a welcome guest. Faust. Hapjiy the man around whose brow he liinds The bloodstain’d wreath in concpiest’s dazzling hour ; Or whom, excited by the dance, he finds Dissolv’tl in bliss, in love’s delii ions liower ! < )h that before the lofty spirit’s might. Enraptured, 1 had render’d up my soul ! Mephis. Yet did a certain man refrain one "iglit, Of its brown juice to drain the crystal bowl. Faust. To play the spy diverts you then? Mephis. 1 own. Though not omniscient, much to me is known. Faust. If o’er my soul the tone familiar, stealing. Drew me from harrowing thought’s be wild’ ring maze. Toucliing the ling’ring chords of childlike feeling, With the sweet harmonies of happier days: So curse I all, around the soul that windeth Its magic and alluring spell, And with delusive flattery bindeth Its viclim to this dreary cell ! Curs’d before all things be the high opinion. Wherewith the spirit girds itself around ! Of shows delusive curs’d be the dominion, ^\'ithin whose mocking sphere our sense is bound ! Accurs’d of dreams the treacherous wiles. The cheat of glory, deathless fame ! Accurs’d what each as projierty beguiles, W'ife, child, slave, plough, whate’er its name ! Accurs’d be mammon, when with treasure He doth to daring deeds incite : Or when to steep the soul in jfleastire. He spreads the couch of soft delight ! Curs’d be the grape’s balsamic juice ! Accurs’d love’s dream, of joys the first ! Accurs’d be ho]je ! accurs’d be faith ! And more than all, be patience curs’d ! Chorus of Spirits. ( Invisible.) Woe ! woe ! I'hou hast destroy’d 'I'he beautiful world With violent blow; ’Tis shiver’d ! ’tis shatter’d ! The fragments abroad by a demigod scatter’d ! Now we sweep The wrecks into nothingness ! Fondly we weep The beauty that’s gone ! Thou, ’mongst the sons of earth. Lofty and mighty one. Build it once more ! In thine own bosom the lost world restore ! Now with unclouded sense Enter a new career; Songs shall salute thine ear. Ne’er heard before ! Mephis. My little ones these spirits be. Hark ! with shrewd intelligence. How they recommend to thee, A6tion, and the joys of sense ! In the busy world to dwell. Fain they would allure thee hence : For within this lonely cell. Stagnates sap of life and sense. Forbear to trifle longer with thy grief. Which, vulture-like, consumes thee in this den. The worst .society is some relief. Making thee feel thyself a man with men. Nathless it is not meant, I trow. I To thrust thee ’mid the vulgar throng. I to the upper ranks do not belong ; Yet if, by me companion’d, thou Thy steps through life forthwith wilt take. Upon the spot myself I’ll make Thy comrade ; — Should it suit thy need, ; I am thy servant, and thy slave indeed ! Faust. And how must I thy services re- pay ? Mephis. Thereto thou lengthen’d respite hast ! Faust. No ! no ! The devil is an egotist I know : And, for Heaven’s sake, ’tis not his way Kindness to any one to show. Let the condition plainly be express’d; Such a domestic is a dangerous guest. Mephis. I’ll pledge myself to be thy ser- vant here, Still at thy back alert and prompt to be ; But when together _)WA/cr we appear. Then shalt thou do the same for me. Faust. But small concern I feel for yonder world ; Hast thou this system into ruin hurl’d. Another may arise the void to fill. This earth the fountain whence my pleasures flow. This sun doth daily shine upon my woe. And if this world I must forego. Let happen then, — what can and will. I to this theme will close mine ears. If men hereafter hate and love. And if there be in yonder spheres A depth below or height above. Mephis. In this mood thou mayst venture it. But make The compadt, and at once I’ll undertake To charm thee with mine arts. I’ll give thee more Than mortal eye hath e’er beheld before. Faust. W'hat, sorry Devil, hast thou to bestow ? Was ever mortal spirit, in its high endeavor. Fathom’d by Being such as thou? Yet food thou hast which satisfieth never. Hast ruddy gold, that still doth flow Like restless quicksilver away, A game thou hast, at which none win who play, A girl who would, with amorous eyen. E’en from my breast, a neighbor snare. Lofty ambition’s joy divine. That, meteor-like, dissolves in air. Showme the fruit that, ere ’tis pluck’d, doth rot, And trees, whose verdure daily buds anew. 32 Mephis. Such a commission scares me not, I can provide such treasures, it is true ; But, my good friend, a season will come round When on what’s good we may regale in peace. Faust. If e’er upon my couch, stretch’d at my ease. I’m found. Then may my life that instant cease ; Me canst thou cheat with glozing wile d'ill self-reproach away I cast? — Me with joy’s lure canst thou beguile? — Let that day be for me the last ! Be this our wager! Mephis. Settl’d ! Faust. Sure and fast ! When to the moment I shall say, “Linger awhile, so fair thou art !’’ 'bhen mayst thou fetter me straightway. Then to the abyss will I dejiart ; Tlien may the solemn death-bell sound, d'hen from thy service thou art free, d'he index then may cease its round. And time be never more for me! Mephis. I shall remember: pause, ere ’tis too late. Faust. bhereto a perfe6I right hast thou. My strength I do not rashly overrate. Slave am I here, at any rate. If thine, or whose, it matters not, I trow. Mephis. At thine inaugural feast I will this day Attend, my duties to commence. — But one thing! — Accidents may happen, hence A line or two in writing grant, I pray. Faust. A writing, Pedant ! dost demand from me ? Man, and man’s plighted word, are these un- known to thee ? Is’t not enough, that by tlie word I gave. My doom for evermore is cast? Doth not the world in all its currents rave, And must a promise hold me fast? Yet fixed is this delusion in our heart ; Who, of his own free will, therefrom would part ? How blest within whose breast truth reigneth pure ! No sacrifice will he repent when made ! A formal deed, with seal and signature, A spedtre this from which all shrink afraid. The word its life resigneth in the pen. Feather and wax usiirj) the mastery then. Spirit of evil ! what dost thou require? Brass, marble, parchment, paper, dost de- sire ? Shall I with chisel, J)en, or graver write? Thy choice is free ; to me ’tis all the same. IVIephis. Wherefore thy passion so excite. And thus thine eloquence inflame? A scrap is for our comjiadl good. 'I'hou uudersignest merely with a drop of blood. Faust. If this will satisfy thy mind. Thy whim I’ll gratify, howe’er absurd. IVIephis. Blood is a juice of very special kind. Faust. Be not afraid that I shall break my word ! The scope of all my energy Is in exaifl accordance with my vow. Vainly I have aspir’d too high ; I’m on a level but with such as thou ; Me the great spirit scorn’d, defi’d ; Nature from me herself doth hide; Rent is the web of thought; my mind Doth knowledge loathe of every kind. In depths of sensual pleasure drown’d, Let us our fiery passions still ! Enwrapp’d in magic’s veil profound, Let wondrous charms our senses thrill ! Plunge we in time’s tempestuous flow, Stem we the rolling surge of chance ! There may alternate weal and woe, Succe.ss and failure, as they can. Mingle and shift in changeful dance ! Excitement is the sphere for man. Mephis. Nor goal, nor measure is prescrib’d to you. If you desire to taste of everything. To snatch at joy while on the wing. May your career amuse and profit too ! Only fall to and don’t be over coy ! Eaust. Hearken ! The end I aim at is not joy ; I crave excitement, agonizing bliss, ' Enamour’d hatred, quickening vexation. Purg’d from the love of knowledge, my voca- tion, The scope of all my powers henceforth be this, To bare my breast to every pang, — to know In my heart’s core all human weal and woe, To grasp in thought the lofty and the deep. Men’s various fortunes on my breast to heap, And thus to theirs dilate my individual mind, And share at length with them the shipwreck of mankind. Mephis. Oh, credit me, who still as ages I roll, I Have chew’d this bitter fare from year to year. No mortal, from the cradle to the bier, Digests the ancient leaven ! Know, this Whole Doth for the Deity alone subsist ! He in eternal brightness doth exist. Us unto darkness he hath brought, and here 1 Where day and night alternate, is your sphere. Faust. But ’tis my will ! Mephis. Well spoken, I admit! But one thing puzzles me, my friend ; Time’s short, art long ; methinks ’twere fit That you to friendly counsel should attend. A poet choose as your ally ! Let him thought’s wide dominion sweep. Each good and noble quality, I Upon your honored brow to heap; The lion’s magnanimity. The fleetness of the hind. The fiery blood of Italy, The Northern’s steadfast mind ! Let him to you the mystery show To blend high aims and cunning low ; And while youth’s passions are aflame To fall in love by rule and plan ! I fain would meet with such a man ; Would him Sir Microcosmus name. Faust. What then am I, if I aspire in vain The crown of our humanity to gain, Towards which my every sense doth strain? Mephis. Thou’rt after all — just what thou art. Put on thy head a wig with countless locks, Raise to a cubit’s height thy learned socks. Still thou remainest ever, what thou art. Faust. I feel it, I have heap’d upon my brain The gather’d treasure of man’s thought in vain ; 34 And when at length from studious toil I rest, No power, new-born, springs up within my breast ; A hair’s breadth is not added to my height, I am no nearer to the infinite. Mephis. Good sir, these things you view indeed. Just as by other men they’re view’d ; We must more cleverly proceed. Before life’s joys our grasp elude. The devil ! thou hast hands and feet. And head and heart are also thine ; \Vhat I enjoy with relish sweet. Is it on that account less mine? If for six stallions I can pay. Do I not own their strength and speed? A proper man I dash away. As their two dozen legs were mine indeed. Up then, from idle pondering free. And forth into the world with me! I tell you what : — your speculative churl Is like a beast which some ill spirit leads. On barren wilderness, in ceaseless whirl. While all around lie fair and verdant meads. Faust. But how shall we begin ? Mephis. We will go hence with speed, A place of torment this indeed ! A precious life, thyself to bore. And some few youngsters evermore! Leave it to neighbor Paunch; — withdraw. Why wilt thou plague thyself with thrashing straw? The very best that thou dost know Thou dar’st not to the striplings show. One in the passage now doth wait! Faust. I’m in no mood to see him now. Mephis. Poor lad ! He must be tired, I trow; He must not go disconsolate. Hand me thy cap and gown ; the mask Is for my purpose quite first rate. \_He changes his dress. Now leave it to my wit ! I ask But quarter of an hour; meanwhile equip. And make all ready for our pleasant tri]:> ! [A'a'/V Fau.st. Mephis. (InYK\]S'v'slonggo7vn.) Mortal! the loftiest attributes of men. Reason and Knowledge, only thus contemn. Still let the Prince of lies, without control. With shows, and mocking charms delude thy soul, 1 have thee unconditionally then ! — Fate hath endow’d him with an ardent mind. Which unrestrain’d still presses on for ever. And whose precipitate endeavor Earth’s joys o’erleaping, leaveth them behind. Him will I drag through life’s wild waste, 'I’hrough scenes of vapid dulness, where at last Bewilder’d, he shall falter, and stick fast; And, still to mock his greedy haste. Viands and drink shall float his craving lips beyond — - Vainly he’ll seek refreshment, anguish-toss’d. And were he not the devil’s by his bond. Yet must his soul infallibly be lost ! A Student enters. Student. But recently I’ve quitted home. Full of devotion am I come A man to know and hear, whose name With reverence is known to fame. Mephis. Your courtesy much flatters me! A man like other men you see; Pray have you yet applied elsewhere? Student. I would entreat your friendly care ! I’ve youthful blood and courage high; Of gold I bring a fair supply; To let me go my mother was not fain ; But here I long’d true knowledge to attain. Mephis. You’ve hit upon the very place. StudEiVT. And yet my steps I would re- trace. These walls, this melancholy room, O’erpower me with a sense of gloom ; The space is narrow, nothing green. No friendly tree is to be seen : And in these halls, with benches lin’d. Sight, hearing fail, fails too my mind. Mephis. It all depends on habit. Thus at first The infant takes not kindly to the breast, I But before long, its eager thirst I Is fain to slake with hearty zest : j Thus at the breasts of wisdom day by day With keener relish you’ll your thirst allay. Student. Upon her neck I fain would hang with joy; 'Fo reach it, say, what means must I emjiloy ? Mephis. Explain, ere further time we lose. What special faculty you choose? Student. Profoundly learned I would grow. What heaven contains would comprehend. O’er earth’s wide realm my gaze extend. Nature and science I desire to know. Mephis. You are upon the proper track, I find. Take heed, let nothing dissipate your mind. Student. My heart and soul are in the chase ! 'Fhough to be sure I fain would seize. 35 On pleasant summer holidays, A little liberty and careless ease. Mephis. Use well your time, so rapidly it flies ; Method will teach you time to win ; Hence, my young friend, I would advise. With college logic to begin ! Then will your mind be so well brac’d. In Spanish boots so tightly lac’d, 'I'hat on ’twill circumspedfly creep. Thought’s beaten track securely keep. Nor will it, ignis-fatuus like. Into the jiath of error strike. Then many a day they’ll teach you how The mind’s spontaneous a6ts, till now .A.S eating and as drinking free. Require a process ; — one ! two ! three ! In truth the subtle web of thought Is like the weaver’s fabric wrought : One treadle moves a thousand lines. Swift dart the shuttles to and fro, Unseen the threads together flow, \ thousand knots one stroke combines. 'Fhen forward steps your sage to show, And prove to you, it must be so ; The first being so, and so the second. The third and fourth deduc’d we see ; And if there were no first and second. Nor third nor fourth would ever be. This, scholars of all countries prize, — Yet ’mong themselves no weavers rise. He who would know and treat of aught alive. Seeks first the living spirit thence to drive : Then are the lifeless fragments in his hand. There only fails, alas ! the spirit-band. 'I'his process, chemists name, in learned thesis. Mocking themselves, Natura e?icheiresis. Student. Your words I cannot fully com- prehend. Mephis. In a short time you will improve, my friend. When of scholastic forms you learn the use ; And how by method all things to reduce. Student. So doth all this my brain con- found, As if a mill-wheel there were turning round. Mephis. And next, before aught else you learn. You must with zeal to metaphysics turn ! There see that you profoundly comprehend. What doth the limit of man’s brain transcend; For that which is or is not in the head A sounding jflirase will serve you in good stead. But before all strive this half year From one fix’d order ne’er to swerve ! Five ledfures daily you must hear ; The hour still jiumTually obser\'e ! Yourself with studious zeal prejiare. And closely in your manual look. Hereby may you be quite aware That all he utters standeth in the book ; Yet write away without cessation, .\s at the Holy Ghost’s didfation ! Studen r. This, Sir, a second time you need not say ! Your coun.sel I ajipreciate quite ; What we possess in black and white. We can in peace and comfort bear away. Mephis. A faculty I pray you name. Student. For jurisprudence .some distaste I own. Mephis. To me this branch of science is well known. And hence I cannot your repugnance blame. Customs and laws in every place, Like a'disease, an heir-loom dread. Still trail their curse from race to race. And furtively abroad they spread. 'I'o nonsense, reason’s self they turn ; Beneficence becomes a pest ; Woe unto thee, that thou’rt a grandson born ! As for the law born with us, unexpressed ; — That law, alas, none careth to discern. Student. You deepen my dislike. The youth Whom you instrudl, is blest in sooth. I'o try theology I feel inclined. Mephis. I would not lead you willingly astray. But as regards this science, you will find. So hard it is to shun the erring way. And so much hidden jioison lies therein. Which scarce can you discern from medicine. Here too it is the best, to listen but to one. And by the master’s words to swear alone. To sum up all — To words hold fast ! Then the .safe gate securely pass’d. You’ll reach the fane of certainty at last. Student. But then some meaning must the words convey. Mephis. Right! But o’er-anxious thought, you’ll find of no avail, For there precisely where ideas fail, A word comes opportunely into play. Most admirable weapons words are found. On words a system we securely ground. In words we can convenient!}' believe. Nor of a single jot can we a word bereave. Student. Your pardon for my importunity ; Yet once more must I trouble you ; On medicine. I’ll thank you to supjily I A pregnant utterance or two ! 36 Three years ! how brief the appointed tide ! The field, heaven knows, is all too wide ! If but a friendly hint be thrown, ’Tis easier then to feel one’s way. Mepiiis. (Aside.) I’m weary of the dry pedantic tone, And must again the genuine devil jday. (Aloud.) Of medicine the spirit’s caught with ease. The great and little world you study through, That things may then their course pursue. As heaven may jdease. In vain abroad you range through science’ amjde space, Each man learns only that which learn he can ; Who knows the moment to embrace, He is your j)roper man. In ])erson you are tolerably made. Nor in assurance will you be deficient: Self-confidence acquire, be not afraid. Others will then esteem you a proficient. Learn chiefly with the se.x to deal ! Their thousand ahs and ohs. These the sage doftor knows. He only from one point can heal. Assume a decent tone of courteous ease. You have them then to humor as you please. First a dijjloma must belief infuse. That you in your profession take the lead : You then at once those easy freedoms use For which another many a year must plead ; Learn how to feel with nice address 'I’he dainty wrist ; — and how to ])ress. With ardent furtive glance, the slendci waist. To feel how tightly it is lac’d. Student. 'I'here is some sense in that ! one sees the how and why. Mephis. Gray is, young friend, all theory: And green of life the golden tree. Student. I swear it seemeth like a dream to me. 37 May I some future time repeat my visit, To liear on what your wisdom grounds your views ? Mephis. Command my humble service when you clioose. Student. Ere I retire, one boon I must solicit : Here is my album, do not. Sir, deny This token of your favor ! Mephis. Willingly! \_Hc icn'tes and returns the book. Student. (Reads.) Eritis sicut Deus, scientes ronum et .malum. \^He reverently closes the book and retires. Mephis. Let but this ancient proverb be your rule. My cousin follow still, the wily snake, .\nd with your likeness to the gods, poor fool. Ere long be sure your poor sick heart will quake 1 Faust. (Enters.) Whither away? Mephis. ’Tis thine our course to steer. The little world, and then the great we’ll view. With what delight, what profit too, Thou’lt revel through thy gay career! Faust. Desjiite my length of beard I need 'I’he easy manners that insure success ; I’h’ attempt I fear can ne’er succeed ; 'I'o mingle in the world I want address ; I still have an embarrass’d air, and then I feel myself so small with other men. Mephis. Time, my good friend, with all that’s needful give ; Be only self-possess’d, and thou hast learn’ d to live. Faust. But how are we to start, I pray ? Steeds, servants, carriage, M'here are they ? Mephis. We’ve but to spread this mantle M'ide, ’Twill serve whereon through air to ride, No heavy baggage need you take, 1 When \ve our bold excursion make, I -V little gas, which I will soon prepare, ' Lifts us from earth ; aloft through air, ! Light laden, we shall swiftly steer; — I wish )ou joy of your new life-career. UERBACH’S CELLAR in LEIPSIC. (A drinking party.) Frosch. No drinking? Naught a laugh to raise? None of your gloomy looks, I pray ! You, who so bright were wont to blaze. Are dull as wetted straw to-day. Brander. ’Tis all your fault; your part you do not bear. No beastliness, no folly. Frosch. (Pours a giass of wine over his head.) There, You have them both! Brander. You double beast ! Frosch. ’Tis what you ask’d me for, at least I Siebel. Whoever quarrels, turn him out ! With open throat drink, roar and shout. Hollo! Hollo! Ho! Altmayer. Zounds, fellow, cease your deaf’ning cheers! Bring cotton-wool ! He splits my ears. Siebel. ’Tis when the roof rings back the tone. Then first the full jiower of the bass is known. Frosch. Right! out with him who takes offence ! A tara lara la ! .\ltmayer. a tara lara la! P'rosch. Our throats are tun’d. Come, let’s commence. (Sings. ) The holv Roman empire now. How holds it still together? Brander. An ugly song ! a song political ! A song offensive! Thank God, every morn To rule the Roman empire, that you were not born ! I bless my stars at least that mine is not Either a kaiser’s or a chancellor’s lot. Yet ’mong ourselves should one still lord i! o’er the rest ; That we eledl a pope I now suggest. Ye know, what quality ensures A man’s success, his rise secures. Frosch. (Sings.) Bear, lady nightingale above Ten thousand greetings to my love. Siebel. No greetings to a sweetheart ! No love-songs shall there be ! Frosch. Love-greetings and love-kisses! Thou shalt not hinder me! ( Sings.) Undo the bolt! in stilly night. Undo the bolt ! thy love’s awake ! Shut to the bolt! with morning light — Siebel. Ay, sing away, sing on, her praises sound ; — the snake ! My turn to laugh will come some day. Me hath she jilted once, you the same trick she’ll play. Some gnome her lover be ! where cross-roads meet, W'ith her to play the fool ; or old he-goat, From Blocksberg coming in swift gallop, bleat A good night to her, from his hairy throat ! A proper lad of genuine flesh and blood Is for the damsel far too good ; The greeting she shall have from me. To smash her window-panes will be! Brander. (Striking on the tahie.) Silence ! Attend ! to me give ear ! Confess, sirs, I know how to live; i Some love-sick folk are sitting here! ' Hence, ’tis but fit, their hearts to cheer. That I a good-night strain to them should give. ! Hark ! of the newest fashion is my song ! Strike boldly in the chorus, clear and strong! ( He sings.) Once in a cellar lived a rat. He feasted there on butter. Until his paunch became as fat As that of Uodlor Luther. 39 The cook laid poison for the guest, Then was his lieart with pangs oppress’d, As if his frame love wasted. Chorus. (S/iouting.) As if his frame love wasted. Branuer. He ran around, he ran abroad. Of every puddle drinking. The house with rage he scratch’d and gnaw’d. In vain, — he fast was sinking; Full many an anguish’d bound he gave. Nothing the hapless brute could save. As if his frame love wasted. Chorus. As if his frame love wasted. Brander. By torture driven, in open day. The kitchen he invaded. Convuls’d upon the hearth he lay. With anguish sorely jaded ; The poisoner laugh’d, Ha! ha! quoth she. His life is ebbing fast, I see. As if his frame love wasted. Chorus. As if his frame love wasted. SiEBEL. How the dull boors exulting shout! Poison for the poor rats to strew A fine exploit it is no doubt. Branuer. They, as it seems, stand well with you ! Altmayer. Old bald-pate! with the paunch profound ! 'I'he rat’s mishap hath tam’d his nature; For he his counterpart hath found Depidled in the swollen creature. Faust ajid Mephistopheles. Mephis. I now must introduce to you Before auglit else, this jovial crew, To show how liglitly life may glide away; With the folk here each day’s a holiday. With little wit and much content. Each on his own small round intent. Like sportive kitten with its tail; While no sick headache they bewail. And while their host will credit give. Joyous and free from care they live. Branuer. They’re off a journey, that is clear, — They look !-o strange ; they’ve scarce been here An hour. Frosch. You’re right! Leipsic’s the place for me ! ’Tis quite a little Paris ; people there Acquire a certain easy finish’d air. vSiehel. What take you now these travellers to be? Frosch. Let me alone ! O’er a full glass you’ll .see, \s easily I’ll worm their secret out | As draw an infirnt’s tooth. I’ve not a doubt That my two gentlemen are nobly born. They look dissatisfied and full of scorn. Branuer. They are but mountebanks. I’ll lay a bet ! Altmayer. Most like. Frosch. Mark me. I’ll screw it from them yet ! Mephis. (7> Faust.) These fellows would not scent the devil out. E’en though he had them by the very throat ! Faust. Good-morrow, gentlemen ! SiEBEL. Thanks for your fair salute. \_Aside, glancing at Mephistopheles. How ! goes the fellow on a halting foot? Mephis. Is it iiermitted here with you to sit ? Then though good wine is not forthcoming here. Good company at least our hearts will cheer. Altmayer. A dainty gentleman, no doubt of it. Frosch. You’re doubtless recently from Rilijiach ? Pray, Did you with Master Hans there chance to sup? Mephis. To-day we pass’d him, but we did not stop ! \\’hen last we met him he had much to say Touching his cousins, and to each he sent P’ull many a greeting and kind com])liment. [ Uith an inclination towards Frosch. Altmayer. (^Aside toYwo’S.cw.') You have it there ! SiEBEL. Faith ! he’s a knowing one ! P'rosch. Have patience ! I will show him up anon ! Mephis. Unless I err, as we drew near We heard some practis’d voices pealing. A song must admirably here Re-echo from this \ aulted ceiling! P’rosch. That you’re an amateur one plainly sees ! Mephis. Oh no, though strong the love, I cannot boast much skill. Altmayer. Give us a song ! Mephis. As many as you will. SiEBEL. But be it a brand new one, if you please ! Mephis. But recently returned from Spain are we. The pleasant land of wine and minstrelsy. (Sings.) A king there was once reigning. Who had a goodly flea — Frosch. Hark ! did you rightly catch the words ? a flea ! I An odd sort of a guest he needs must be. 40 Mephis. (Si//gs.) A king there was once reigning, Who had a goodlv flea, H im lov’d he without feigning. As his own son were he ! His tailor then he summon’d, The tailor to him goes : Now measure me the youngster For jerkin and for hose ! Brander. Take proper heed, the tailor stridlly charge. The nicest measurement to take. And as he loves his head, to make The hose quite smooth and not too large ! Mephis. In satin and in velvet. Behold the younker dressed ; Bedizen’d o’er with ri’obons, A cross upon his breast. Prime minister they made him. He wore a star of state ! .And all his poor relations Were courtiers, rich and great. The gentlemen and ladies At court were sore distress’d ; The queen and all her maidens Were bitten by the pest. And yet they dared not scratch them. Or chase the fleas away. If we are bit, we catch them. And crack without delay. Chorus. (Shouting.) If we are bit, etc. Frosch. Bravo ! That’s the song for me. I SiEBEL. Such be the fate of every flea ! Branuer. With clever finger catch and kill. ' Altmayer. Hurrah for wine and freedom still ! I Mephis. Were but your wine a trifle bet- ter, friend, ^ A glass to freedom I would gladly drain. SiEBEL. You’d better not repeat those words > again ! Mephis. I am afraid the landlord to offend ! Else freely would I treat each worthy guest From our own cellar to the very best. SiEBEL. Out with it then ! Your doings I’ll defend. Frosch. Give a good glass, and straight we’ll praise you, one and all. Only let not your samples be too small ■, For if my judgment you desire, I Certes, an ample mouthful I require. Alt.mayer. (Aside.) I guess, they’re from ! the Rhenish land. Mephis. Fetch me a gimlet here ! Brander. Say, what therewith to bore? You cannot have the wine-casks at the door. i I Altmayer. Our landlord’s tool-basket be- I hind doth yonder stand. Mephis. ( Takes the gimlet.) ( Th Frosch.) Now only say ! what liquor will you take? Frosch. How mean you that ? have you I of every sort ? Mephis. Each may his own seledtion make. Altmayer. (71? Frosch.) Ha! ha! You lick your lips already at the thought. Frosch. Good, if I haYe my choice, the Rhenish I propose ; For still the fairest gifts the fatherland bestows. Mephis. ( Boring a hole in the edge of the table opposite to where Frosch is sitting.) Get me a little wax — and make some stoppers — quick ! Altmayer. Why, this is nothing but a juggler’s trick ! Mephis. (To Brander.) And you? Brander. Chamiiagne’s the wine for me ; Right brisk and sparkling let it be ! [Mephistopheles bores ; one of the party has in the meantime prepared the wax stoppers and stopped the holes. Brander. What foreign is one always can’t decline. What’s good is often scatter’d far apart. The French your genuine German hates with all his heart. Yet has a relish for their wine. SiEBEL. (As Mephistopheles approaches him.) I like not acid wine, I must allow. Give me a glass of genuine sweet ! Mephis. (Bores.) ■ Tokay Shall, if you wish it, flow without delay. .Altmayer. Come ! look me in the face ! no fooling now ! You are but making fun of us, I trow. Mephis. Ah ! ah ! that would indeed be making free With such distinguish’d guests. Come, no delay ; VVdiat liquor can I serve you with, I jiray? Altmayer. Only be quick, it matters not to me. \_After the holes are all bored and stopped. Mephis. ( With strange gestures.) Grapes the vine-stock bears. Horns the buck-goat wears ! Wine is sap, the vine is wood, The wooden board yields wine as good. With a deeper glance and true 'Fhe mysteries of nature view ! Have faith and here’s a miracle ! Your stoppers draw and drink your fill ! 41 1 i All. (As they draw the stoppers, and the 7C’ine chosen hy each runs into his glass.) Oh beauteous spring, whicli flows so fair ! Mephis. Spill not a single droj), of this beware ! [ They drink repeatedly. All. (Sing.) Happy as cannibals are we, Or as five hundred swine. Mephis. They’re in their glory, mark their elevation ! F.lust. Let’s hence, nor here our stay pro- long. Mephis. Attend, of brutishness ere long You’ll see a glorious revelation. SiEP.EL. (Drinks carelessly; the ica'ne is spilt upon the ground, and turns to flame-. ) Help ! fire ! help ! Hell is burning ! Mephis. ( Addressing the flames.) Stop, Kind element, be still, I say ! ( To the company.) Of purgatorial fire as yet ’tis but a drop. SiEBEL. What means the knave ! For this you’ll dearly pay ! Us, it appears, you do not know. Frosch. Such tricks a second time he’d better show ! Altmayer. Methinks ’twere well we pack’d him quietly away. SiEBEL. What, sir ! with us your hocus- pocus play ! Mephis. Silence! old wine-cask! SiEBEL. How! add insult too ! \hle broomstick ! Brander. Hold ! or blows shall rain on you ! Al'imaver. ( Drains a stopper out of the table ; fire springs out against him.) I burn ! 1 burn ! SiEBEL. ’Tis sorcery, I vow ! Strike home ! The fellow is fair game, I trow ! \Draw knives and attack Mephistopheles. Mephis. ( With solemn gestures.) Visionary scenes appear ! Words delusive cheat the ear ! Be ye there, and be ye here ! [ They stand amazed and gaze on each other. Altmayer. Where am I ? What a beau- teous land ! Frosch. Vineyards ! unless my sight de- ceives ? SiEBEL. And dust’ ring grapes too, close at hand ! Brander. And underneath the spreading leaves. What stems there be ! What grapes I see ! \^Hc seizes Siebel hy the nose. The others re- ciprocally do the same, raising their knives. Mephis. (As above.) Delusion, from their eyes the bandage take ! Note how the devil loves a jest to break ! '(He disappears with Faust ; the fellows draw back from one another. Siebel. What was it? Altmayer. How? Frosch. Was that your nose? Brander. (To Siebel.) .\nd look, my hand doth thine enclose ! Altmayer. I felt a shock, it went through every limb ! A chair ! Fm fiiinting ! All things swim ! Frosch. Say what has happen’d, what’s it all about ? Siebel. Where is the fellow? Could I scent him out. His body from his soul Fd soon divide ! Alt. With my own eyes, upon a cask astride. Forth through the cellar-door I saw him ride- — • Heavy as lead my feet are growing. [ Turning to the table. Would that the wine again were flowing ! Siebel. ’Twas all delusion, cheat and lie. Frosch. ’Twas wine I drank, most ( ertainly. Brander. What of the grapes too, — where are they ? Altmayer. Who now will miracles gainsay ? r i 42 ARTIST : FRANZ SIMM. FAUST. FIRST FAR 1'. MRPHISTOPHELES REMUVlNli THE SPELL. Within the very narrowest round, Support thyself upon the simplest fare, Live like a very brute the brutes among. Neither esteem it robbery The acre thou dost reap, thyself to dung — This the best method, credit me, Again at eighty to grow hale and young. Faust. I am not used to it, nor can myself degrade So far as in my hand to take the spade. For this mean life my spirit soars too high. Mephis. Then must we to the witch apply ! Faust. Will none but this old beldame do? Canst not thyself the potion brew? Mephis. pretty play our leisure to be- guile ! A thousand bridges I could build meanwhile. Not science only and consummate art. Patience must also bear her part. A quiet spirit worketh whole years long ; Time only makes the subtle ferment strong. And all things that belong thereto Are wondrous and exceeding rare ! d'he devil taught her, it is true ; But yet the draught the devil can’t prepare. \^Percewi>ig tlie beasts. Look yonder, what a dainty pair ! Here is the maid ! the knave is there ! [ To the beasts. It seems your dame is not at home ? The Monkeys. Gone to carouse. Out of the house. Through the chimney and away ! Mephis. How long is it her wont to roam? Witches’ Kitchen. [A large caldron hangs over the fire on a low hearth ; various figures appear in the vapor rising from it. A female Monkey sits beside the caldron to skim it, and watch that it does not boil over. The MALE Monkey with the young ones is seated near, warming himself. The walls and ceiling are adorned 7vith the strangest articles of witchfiinntnre. Faust, Mephistopheles. Faust. This senseless, juggling witchcraft I detest ! Dost promise that in this foul nest Of madness, I shall be restor’d ? Must I seek counsel from an ancient dame? .\nd can she, by these rites abhorr’d, 'bake thirty winters from my frame? ^Voe’s me, if thou naught better canst suggest! Hope has already fled my breast. Has neither nature nor a noble mind A balsam yet devis’d of any kind ? Mephis. My friend, you now speak sen- sibly. In truth. Nature a method giveth to renew thy youth; But in another book the lesson’s writ ; — It forms a curious chapter, I admit. Faust. I fain would know it. Mephis. Good I A remedy Without physician, gold, or sorcery; Away forthwith, and to the fields repair, Begin to delve, to cultivate the ground. Thy senses and thyself confine 43 The Monkeys. While we can warm our j)aws she’ll stay. Mephis. (To Faust.) What think you of the charming creatures? Faust. 1 loathe alike their form and features ! Mephis. Nay, such discourse, be it confess’d. Is just the thing that pleases me the best. To the Monkeys. Tell me, ye whelps, accursed crew ! What stir ye in the broth about ? The Monkeys. Coarse beggar’s gruel here we stew. Mephis. Of customers you’ll have a rout. The he Monkey. (Approaching and fawn- ing on Mephistopheles.) Quick ! quick ! throw the dice. Make me rich in a trice. Oh give me the prize ! Alas, for myself! Had I plenty of pelf, I then should be wise. Mephis. How blest the ape would think himself, if he Could only put into the lottery ! [//; the meantime the young Monkeys have been playing tenth a large globe, which they roll forwards. The he Monkey. The world behold ! F’nceasingly roll’d. It riseth and falleth ever; • ' It ringeth like glass ! How brittle, alas ! ’Tis hollow, and resteth never. How bright the sphere. Still brighter here ! Now living am I ! Dear son, beware ! Nor venture there ! d'hou too must die ! It is of clay; ’Twill crumble away; There fragments lie. Mephis. Of what use is the sieve? The HE Monkey. (Taking it down.'). The sieve would show If thou wert a thief or no. [//c runs to the she Monkey, and makes her look through it. Look through the sieve ! Dost know him the thief. And dar’st thou not call him so? Mephis. ( Approaching the fire.) And then this pot ? The Monkeys. The half-witted sot ! He knows not the jjot ! He knows not the kettle ! Mephis. Unmannerly beast ! Be civil at least ! The he Monkey. Take the whisk and sit down in the settle ! makes Mephistopheles sit down. Faust. (IVho all this time has been stand- ing before a looking-glass, now approaching, and now retiring from it. ) W’hat do I see ? What form whose charms transcend The loveliness of earth, is mirror’d here I O Love, to waft me to her sphere. To me the swiftest of thy pinions lend ! Alas ! if I remain not rooted to this place. If to approach more near I’m fondly lur’d. Her image fades, in veiling mist obscur’d ! — Model of beauty both In form and face ! Is’t po.ssible? Hath woman charms so rare? Is this recumbent form, supremely fair. The very essence of all heavenly grace? Can aught so exquisite on earth be found ? Mephis. The six days’ labor of a god, my friend. Who doth himself cry bravo, at the end. By something clever doubtless should be crown’d. For this time gaze your fill, and when you please Just such a prize for you I can provide ; How blest is he to whom kind fate decrees. To take her to his home, a lovely bride 1 [Faust continues to gaze into the mit-ror. Mephistopheles stretching himself on the settle and playing with the whisk, continues to speak. Here sit I, like a king upon his throne; My sceptre this; — the crown I want alone. The Monkeys. (IJ'ho have hitherto been making all sorts of strange gestures, bring Mephistopheles a crown, with loud cries.) Oh, be so good. With sweat and with blood The crown to lime! [ They handle the crown awkwardly and break it into two pieces, with which they skip about. ’Twas fate’s decree ! ^^’e speak and see ! We hear and rhyme. Faust. (Before the mirror.) Woe’s me ! well-nigh di.straught I feel ! Mephis. (Pointing to the beasts.) And even my own head almost begins to reel. The Monkeys. If good luck attend. If fitly things blend. Our jargon with thought And with reason is fraught ! 44 Faust. (As above.) A flame is kindled in my breast ! Let us begone ! nor linger here ! Mepuis. (In the same position.) It now at least must be confess’d, That jjoets sometimes are sincere. [ The caldron zvhich the she Monkey has ne- glefled begins to boil over; a great flame arises, which streams up the chimney. The W’lTCH comes down the chimney ivith hor- rible cries. The Witch. Ough ! ough ! ough ! ough ! Accursed brute ! accursed sow ! Tliou dost negledt the ])ot, for shame ! Accursed brute to scorch the dame ! [Perceiving Faus'p and Mephistopheles. \Vhom have we here? Who’s sneaking here? Whence are ye come? With what desire? 'I'he [ilague of fire Your bones consume! [She dips the shimming-ladle into the caldron and throws flames at Faust, Mephisto- pheles and the Monkeys. The Monkeys whiniper. Mephis. ( Tivirling the johisk which he holds in his hand, and striking among the glasses and pots. ) Dash I Smash ! There lies the glass ! 45 There lies the slime ! ’Tis but a jest ; 1 but keep time, 'I'hou hellisli |)cst, 'I'o tlhne own chime! [ Whi/e the \\hTcn steps back in rage and astonishment. Dost know me? Skeleton ! Vile scarecrow, thou ! I'hy lord and master dost thou know? ^Vhat holds me, tliat I deal not now Thee and thine apes a stunning blow? No more respedt to my red vest dost pay? Does my cock’s feather no allegiance claim? Have I my visage mask’d to-day? Must I be forc’d myself to name? The Witch. Master, forgive this rude salute 1 But I perceive no cloven foot. •\nd your two ravens, where are they? Mephis. This once I must admit your plea — For truly I must own that we Each other have not seen for many a day. The culture, too, that shapes the world, at last Hath e’en the devil in its sphere embrac’d ; The northern phantom from the scene hath pass’d. Tail, talons, horns, are nowhere to be traced ! .*\s for the foot, with which I can’t dispense, ’Twould injure me in company, and hence, Tike many a youthful cavalier. False calves I now have worn for many a year. 'I’he Witch. (Dancing.) I am beside my- self with joy, I’o see once more the gallant Satan here ! Mephis. Woman, no more that name em- ploy ! The Witch. Bukwhy? what mischief hath it done? Mephis. To fable it too long hath ajiper- tain’d ; But people from the change have nothing won. Rid of the evil one, the evil has remain’d. Lord Baron call thou me, so is the matter good ; Of other cavaliers the mien I wear. Dost make no question of my gentle blood? See here, this is the scutcheon that I bear ! [//c makes an unseemly gesture. The Witch. (Laughing immoderately.) Ha! ha! Just like yourself ! You are, I ween, d'he same mad wag that you have ever been ! Mephis. (To Faust.) My friend, learn this to understand, I ])ray ! To deal with witches this is still the way. 'I'he Witch. Now tell me, gentlemen, what yon desire ? Mephis. Of your known juice a goblet we require. But for the very oldest let me ask ; Double its strength with years doth grow. The Witch. Most willingly ! And here I have a flask, From which Fve sipp’d myself ere now; What’s more, it doth no longer stink; 'I'o you a glass I joyfully will give. \_Aside. If unprepar’d, however, this man drink. He hath not, as you know, an hour to live. Mephis. He’s my good friend, with whom ’twill prosper well ; I grudge him not the choicest of thy store. Now draw thy circle, speak thy spell. And straight a bumper for him pour ! [77/c Witch, with extraordinary gestures, describes a circle, and places strange things within it. The glasses meanwhile begin to ring, the caldron to sound, and to make music. Lastly, she brings a great book) places the Monkevs in the circle to ser7