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6. Bradley

B
Mass
src.zo, 1886, -
F
T
A
S
U
A TRAGEDY
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN
OF
G Ο Ε Τ
Η Ε
WITH NOTES
BY
CHARLES T BROOKS
• BOSTON
TICKNOR AND FIELDS
MDCCC LVI
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856,
by CHARLES T. Brooks,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District
of Rhode Island
RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE :
Stereotyped and Printed by
H. 0. Houghton & Co.
Flogita
?
FO
6-5-447
tB8l
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.
a
PERHAPS some apology ought to be given
to English scholars, that is, those who do
not know German, (to those, at least, who
do not know what sort of a thing Faust is
in the original,) for offering another transla-
tion to the public, of a poem which has
been already translated, not only in a literal
prose form, but also, twenty or thirty times,
in metre, and sometimes with great spirit,
beauty, and power.
The author of the present version, then,
has no knowledge that a rendering of this
wonderful poem into the exact and ever-
changing metre of the original has, until
now, been so much as attempted. To name
only one defect, the very best versions which
(5)
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.
S
TI
he has seen neglect to follow the exquisite
artist in the evidently planned and orderly
intermixing of male and female rhymes, i. e.
rhymes which fall on the last syllable and
those which fall on the last but one. Now,
every careful student of the versification of
Faust must feel and see that Goethe did not
intersperse the one kind of rhyme with the
other, at random, as those translators do;
who, also, give the female rhyme (on which
the vivacity of dialogue and description often
so much depends,) in so small a proportion.
A similar criticism might be made of their
liberty in neglecting Goethe's method of
alternating different measures with each other.
It seems as if, in respect to metre, at
least, they had asked themselves, how would
Goethe have written or shaped this in Eng-
lish, had that been his native language, in-
stead of seeking con amore (and con fidelità)
as they should have done, to reproduce, both
in spirit and in form, the movement, so free
and yet orderly, of the singularly endowed
and accomplished poet whom they under-
took to represent.
TT
1over
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.
o
7
As to the objections which Hayward and
some of his reviewers have instituted in ad-
vance against the possibility of a good and
faithful metrical translation of a poem like
Faust, they seem to the present translator
full of paradox and sophistry. For instance,
take this assertion of one of the reviewers:
“ The sacred and mysterious union of thought
with verse, twin-born and immortally wedded
from the moment of their common birth,
can never be understood by those who de-
sire verse translations of good poetry.” If
the last part of this statement had read “by
those who can be contented with prose trans-
lations of good poetry,” the position would
have been nearer the truth. This much we
might well admit, that, if the alternative
were either to have a poem like Faust in a
metre different and glaringly different from
the original, or to have it in simple and
strong prose, then the latter alternative would
be the one every tasteful and feeling scholar
would prefer ; but surely to every one who
can read the original or wants to know how
this great song sung itself (as Carlyle says)
8
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.
nea
out of Goethe's soul, a mere prose render-
ing must be, comparatively, a corpus mor-
tuum.
The translator most heartily dissents from
Hayward's assertion that a translator of
Faust “must sacrifice either metre or mean-
ing." At least he flatters himself that he
has made, in the main, (not a compromise
between meaning and melody, though in
certain instances he may have fallen into
that, but) a combination of the meaning
with the melody, which latter is so impor-
tant, so vital a part of the lyric poem's
meaning, in any worthy sense. “No poetic
translation,” says Hayward's reviewer, already
quoted, “can give the rhythm and rhyme
of the original; it can only substitute the
rhythm and rhyme of the translator.” One
might just as well say “no prose translation
can give the sense and spirit of the original;
it can only substitute the sense and spirit
of the words and phrases of the translator's
language ;” and then, these two assertions
balancing each other, there will remain in
the metrical translator's favor, that he may
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.
SONNI
the spirit, as the effects of the Babel disper-
sion will allow.
As to the original creation which he has
attempted here to reproduce, the translator
might say something, but prefers leaving
his readers to the poet himself, as revealed
in the poem, and to the various commen-
taries of which we have some accounts, at
least, in English. A French translator of
the poem speaks in his introduction as fol-
lows: “This Faust, conceived by him in
his youth, completed in ripe age, the idea
of which he carried with him through all
the commotions of his life, as Camoens
bore his poem with him through the waves,
this Faust contains him entire. The thirst
for knowledge and the martyrdom of doubt,
had they not tormented his early years?
Whence came to him the thought of tak-
ing refuge in a supernatural realm, of ap-
pealing to invisible powers, which plunged
him, for a considerable time, into the dreams
of Illuminati and made him even invent a
religion? This irony of Mephistopheles,
10
PREFACE.
TRANSLATO
who carries on so audacious a game with
the weakness and the desires of man, is it :
not the mocking, scornful side of the poet's
spirit, a leaning to sullenness, which can be
traced even into the earliest years of his
life, a bitter leaven thrown into a strong
soul forever by early satiety? The character
of Faust especially, the man whose burning,
untiring heart can neither enjoy fortune nor
do without it, who gives himself uncondi-
tionally and watches himself with mistrust,
who unites the enthusiasm of passion and
the dejectedness of despair, is not this an
ILLUD
tumultuous part of the poet's soul? And
now, to complete the image of his inner
life, he has added the transcendingly sweet
person of Margaret, an exalted reminiscence
of a young girl, by whom, at the age of
fourteen, he thought himself beloved, whose
image ever floated round him, and has con-
tributed some traits to each of his heroines.
This heavenly surrender of a simple, good,
and tender heart contrasts wonderfully with
the sensual and gloomy passion of the lover,
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.
II
who, in the midst of his love-dreams, is per-
secuted by the phantoms of his imagination
and by the nightmares of thought, with
those sorrows of a soul, which is crushed,
but not extinguished, which is tormented
by the invincible want of happiness and
the bitter feeling, how hard a thing it is
to receive or to bestow."

DEDICATION."
ONCE more ye waver dreamily before me,
Forms that so early cheered my troubled eyes !
To hold you faſt doth ſtill my heart implore me ?
Still bid me clutch the charm that lures and flies ?
Ye crowd around! come, then, hold empire o'er me,
As from the miſt and haze of thought ye rise ;
The magic atmosphere, your train enwreathing,
Through my thrilled bosom youthful bliss is breathing.
Ye bring with you the forms of hours Elysian,
And shades of dear ones rise to meet my gaze;
Firſt Love and Friendship ſteal upon my vision
Like an old tale of legendary days ;
Sorrow renewed, in mournful repetition,
Runs through life’s devious, labyrinthine ways;
And, sighing, names the good (by Fortune cheated
Of blissful hours !) who have before me fleeted.
(13)
DEDICATION.
These later songs of mine, alas ! will never
Sound in their ears to whom the firſt were sung!
Scattered like duſt, the friendly throng forever!
Mute the firſt echo that so grateful rung!
To the ſtrange crowd I sing, whose very favor
Like chilling sadness on my heart is Aung;
And all that kindled at those earlier numbers
Roams the wide earth or in its bosom slumbers.
And now I feel a long-unwonted yearning
For that calm, pensive spirit-realm, to-day;
Like an Æolian lyre, (the breeze returning,)
Floats in uncertain tones my lisping lay;
Strange awe comes o'er me, tear on tear falls burning,
The rigid heart to milder mood gives way;
And what I loft is real and undying.

PRELUDE
IN THE THEATRE.
Manager. Dramatic Poet. Merry Person.
Manager. You who in trouble and diſtress
Have both held faſt your old allegiance,
What think ye? here in German regions
Our enterprise may hope success ?
To please the crowd my purpose has been ſteady,
Because they live and let one live at leaſt.
The poſts are set, the boards are laid already,
And every one is looking for a feaſt.
They sit, with lifted brows, composed looks wearing,
Expecting something that ſhall set them ſtaring.
I know the public palate, that's confeft;
Yet never pined so for a sound suggeſtion ;
True, they are not accuſtomed to the beſt,
But they have read a dreadful deal, paſt queſtion.
How ſhall we work to make all freſh and new,
Acceptable and profitable, too?
(15)
16
PRELUDE IN THE THEATRE.
For sure I love to see the torrent boiling,
When towards our booth they crowd to find a place,
Now rolling on a space and then recoiling,
Then squeezing through the narrow door of grace:
Long before dark each one his hard-fought ſtation
In sight of the box-office window takes,
And as, round bakers' doors men crowd to escape
ſtarvation,
For tickets here they almoſt break their necks.
This wonder, on so mixed a mass, the Poet
Alone can work; to-day, my friend, O, show it!
Poet. Oh speak not to me of that motley ocean,
Whose roar and greed the ſhuddering spirit chill!
Hide from my sight that billowy commotion
That draws us down the whirlpool 'gainſt our will.
No, lead me to that nook of calm devotion,
Where blooms pure joy upon the Muses' hill ;
Where love and friendſhip aye create and cheriſh,
With hand divine, heart-joys that never periſh.
Ah! what, from feeling's deepeſt fountain spring-
... ing,
Scarce from the ſtammering lips had faintly passed,
Now, hopeful, venturing forth, now ſhyly clinging,
To the wild moment's cry a prey is caft.
Oft when for years the brain had heard it ringing
It comes in full and rounded ſhape at laſt.
What ſhines, is born but for the moment's pleasure ;
The genuine leaves poſterity a treasure.
PRELUDE IN THE THEATRE.
Merry Person. Poſterity! I'm sick of hearing
of it;
Supposing I the future age would profit,
Who then would furniſh ours with fun ?
For it muſt have it, ripe and mellow;
The presence of a fine young fellow,
Is cheering, too, methinks, to any one.
· Whoso can pleasantly communicate,
Will not make war with popular caprices,
For, as the circle waxes great,
The power his word ſhall wield increases.
Come, then, and let us now a model see,
Let Phantasy with all her various choir,
Sense, reason, passion, sensibility,
But, mark me, folly too! the scene inspire.
Manager. . But the great point is action! Every
one
Comes as spectator, and the ſhow's the fun.
Let but the plot be spun off faſt and thickly,
So that the crowd ſhall gape in broad surprise,
Then have you made a wide impression quickly,
You are the man they'll idolize.
The mass can only be impressed by masses ;
Then each at laſt picks out his proper part.
Give much, and then to each one something passes,
And each one leaves the house with happy heart.
Have you a piece, give it at once in pieces !
Such a ragout your fame increases ;
18
PRELUDE IN THE THEATRE.
It coſts as little pains to play as to invent.
But what is gained, if you a whole present?
Your public picks it presently to pieces.
Poet. You do not feel how mean a trade like
that must be!
In the true Artiſt's eyes how false and hollow !
Our genteel botchers, well I see,
Have given the maxims that you follow.
Manager. Such charges pass me like the idle
wind;
A man who has right work in mind
Muſt choose the inſtruments moſt fitting.
Consider what soft wood you have for splitting,
And keep in view for whom you write !
If this one from ennui seeks flight,
That other comes full from the groaning table,
Or, the worſt case of all to cite,
From reading journals is for thought unable.
Vacant and giddy, all agog for wonder,
As to a masquerade they wing their way; .
The ladies give themselves and all their precious
plunder
And without wages help us play.
On your poetic heights what dream comes o'er
you?
What glads a crowded house ? Behold
Your patrons in array before you !
One half are raw, the other cold.
PRELUDE IN THE THEATRE.
19
One, after this play, hopes to play at cards,
One a wild night to spend beside his doxy chooses,
Poor fools, why court ye the regards,
For such a set, of the chaſte muses ?
I tell you, give them more and ever more and more,
And then your mark you'll hardly ſtray from ever ;
To myſtify be your endeavor,
To satisfy is labor sore .....
What ails you? Are you pleased or pained? What
notion
Poet. Go to, and find thyself another slave!
What! and the lofty birthright Nature gave,
The nobleſt talent Heaven to man has lent,
Thou bid'ſt the Poet fling to folly's ocean!
How does he ſtir each deep emotion ?
How does he conquer every element ?
But by the tide of song that from his bosom springs,
And draws into his heart all living things ?
When Nature's hand, in endless iteration,
The thread across the whizzing spindle flings,
When the complex, monotonous creation
Jangles with all its million ſtrings :
Who, then, the long, dull series animating,
Breaks into rhythmic march the soulless round?
And, to the law of All each member consecrating,
Bids one majeſtic harmony resound?'
Who bids the tempeſt rage with passion's power?
The earneſt soul with evening-redness glow?
20
PRELUDE IN THE THEATRE.
Who scatters vernal bud and summer flower
Along the path where loved ones go?
Who weaves each green leaf in the wind that trem-
bles
To form the wreath that merit's brow ſhall crown?
Who makes Olympus faſt? the gods assembles ?
The power of manhood in the Poet ſhown.
Merry Person. Come, then, put forth these noble
powers,
And, Poet, let thy path of flowers
Follow a love-adventure’s winding ways.
One comes and sees by chance, one burns, one ſtays,
And feels the gradual, sweet entangling!
The pleasure grows, then comes a sudden jangling,
Then rapture, then diſtress an arrow plants,
And ere one dreams of it, lo! there is a romance.
Give us a drama in this faſhion !
Plunge into human life's full sea of passion!
Each lives it, few its meaning ever guessed,
Touch where you will, 'tis full of intereſt.
Bright ſhadows fleeting o’er a mirror,
A spark of truth and clouds of error,
By means like these a drink is brewed
To cheer and edify the multitude.
The faireſt flower of the youth sit listening
Before your play, and wait the revelation;
Each melancholy heart, with soft eyes gliſtening,
Draws sad, sweet nouriſhment from your creation ;
PRELUDE IN THE THEATRE.
· 21
0
This passion now, now that is ſtirred, by turns,
And each one sees what in his bosom burns.
Open alike, as yet, to weeping and to laughter,
They ſtill admire the flights, they ſtill enjoy the ſhow;
Him who is formed, can nothing suit thereafter;
The yet unformed with thanks will ever glow.
Poet. Ay, give me back the joyous hours,
When I myself was ripening, too,
When song, the fount, flung up its ſhowers
Of beauty ever freſh and new.
When a soft haze the world was veiling,
Each bud a miracle bespoke,
And from their ſtems a thousand flowers I broke,
Their fragrance through the vales exhaling.
I nothing and yet all possessed,
Yearning for truth and in illusion bleſt.
Give me the freedom of that hour,
The tear of joy, the pleasing pain,
Of hate and love the thrilling power,
Oh, give me back my youth again!
Merry Person. Youth, my good friend, thou
needeſt certainly
When ambuſhed foes are on thee springing,
When lovelieſt maidens witchingly
Their white arms round thy neck are Alinging,
When the far garland meets thy glance,
High on the race-ground's goal suspended,
When after many a mazy dance
22
PRELUDE IN THE THEATRE,
In drink and song the night is ended.
But with a free and graceful soul
To ſtrike the old familiar lyre,
And to a self-appointed goal
Sweep lightly o’er the trembling wire,
There lies, old gentlemen, to-day
Your taſk ; fear not, no vulgar error blinds us.
Age does not make us childiſh, as they say,
But we are ſtill true children when it finds us.
Manager. Come, words enough you two have
bandied,
Now let us see some deeds at laſt;
While you toss compliments full-handed,
The time for useful work flies faſt.
Why talk of being in the humor?
Who hesitates will never be.
If you are poets (so says rumor)
Now then command your poetry.
You know full well our need and pleasure,
We want ſtrong drink in brimming measure;
Brew at it now without delay!
To-morrow will not do what is not done to-day.
Let not a day be loſt in dallying,
But seize the possibility
Right by the forelock, courage rallying,
And forth with fearless spirit sallying,
Once in the yoke and you are free.
PRELUDE IN THE THEATRE.
- 23
Upon our German boards, you know it,
What any one would try, he may;
Then ſtint me not, I beg, to-day,
In scenery or machinery, Poet.
With great and lesser heavenly lights make free,
Spend ſtarlight juſt as you desire ;
No want of water, rocks or fire
Or birds or beaſts to you ſhall be.
So, in this narrow wooden house's bound,
Stride through the whole creation's round,
And with considerate swiftness wander
From heaven, through this world, to the world down
yonder.

PROLOGUE
IN HEAVEN.
[The Lord. The HEAVENLY Hosts afterward Mephis-
TOPHELES. The three archangels, RAPHALL, GABRIEL, and
MICHAEL, come forward.]
Raphael. The sun, in ancient wise, is sounding,
With brother-spheres, in rival song ;
And, his appointed journey rounding,
With thunderous movement rolls along.
His look, new ſtrength to angels lending,
No creature fathom can for aye;
The lofty works, paft comprehending,
Stand lordly, as on time's firſt day.
Gabriel. And swift, with wondrous swiftness fleet-
ing,
The pomp of earth turns round and round,
The glow of Eden alternating
With ſhuddering midnight's gloom profound;
Up o'er the rocks the foaming ocean
Heaves from its old, primeval bed,
And rocks and seas, with endless motion,
On in the spheral sweep are sped.
PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN.
25
Michael. And tempeſts roar, glad warfare waging,
From sea to land, from land to sea,
And bind round all, amidſt their raging,
A chain of giant energy.
There, lurid desolation, blazing,
Foreruns the volleyed thunder's way :
Yet, Lord, thy messengers 2 are praising
The mild procession of thy day.
All Three. The sight new ſtrength to angels
lendeth,
For none thy being fathom may,
The works, no angel comprehendeth,
Stand lordly as on time's firſt day.
Mephiſtopheles. Since, Lord, thou draweſt near us
once again,
And how we do, doſt graciously inquire,
And to be pleased to see me once didſt deign,
I too among thy household venture nigher.
Pardon, high words I cannot labor after,
Though the whole court ſhould look on me with
scorn;
My pathos certainly would ſtir thy laughter,
Hadſt thou not laughter long since quite forsworn.
Of sun and worlds I've nought to tell worth mention,
How men torment themselves takes my attention.
The little God o' the world jogs on the same old
way
And is as singular as on the world's firſt day.
26
PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN.
A pity 'tis thou ſhouldſt have given
The fool, to make him worse, a gleam of light from
heaven;
He calls it reason, using it
To be more beaſt than ever beaſt was yet.
He seems to me, (your grace the word will pardon,)
Like a long-legg'd grasshopper in the garden,
Forever on the wing, and hops and sings
The same old song, as in the grass he springs;
Would he but ſtay there! no; he needs muſt muddle
His prying nose in every puddle.
The Lord. Haſt nothing for our edification ?
Still thy old work of accusation?
Will things on earth be never right for thee?
6 Mephiſtopheles. No, Lord! I find them ſtill as
bad as bad can be.
Poor souls ! their miseries seem so much to please
'em,
I scarce can find it in my heart to tease 'em.
The Lord. Knoweſt thou Fauſt?
Mephiſtopheles. The Doctor ?
The Lord. Ay, my servant !
Mephiſtopheles.
He!
Forsooth! he serves you in a famous faſhion ;
No earthly meat or drink can feed his passion ;
Its grasping greed no space can measure;
Half-conscious and half-crazed, he finds no reſt;
The faireſt ſtars of heaven muſt swell his treasure,
PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN.
27
Each higheſt joy of earth muſt yield its zeſt,
Not all the world—the boundless azure-
The Lord. He serves me somewhat darkly, now,
I grant,
Yet will he soon attain the light of reason.
Sees not the gardener, in the green young plant,
That bloom and fruit ſhall deck its coming season?
Mephiſtopheles. What will you bet? You'll surely
lose your wager !
If you will give me leave henceforth,
To lead him softly on, like an old ftager.
The Lord. So long as he ſhall live on earth,
Do with him all that you desire.
Man errs and ſtaggers from his birth.
Mephiſtopheles. Thank you; I never did aspire
To have with dead folk much transaction.
In full freſh cheeks I take the greateſt satisfaction.
A corpse will never find me in the house;
I love to play as puss does with the mouse.
The Lord. All right, I give thee full permis-
sion!
Draw down this spirit from its source,
And, canſt thou catch him, to perdition
Carry him with thee in thy course,
But ſtand abaſhed, if thou muſt needs confess,
That a good man, e'en in his worſt condition,
Has of the right way ſtill a consciousness.
PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN.
Mephiſtopheles. Good! but I'll make it a ſhort
ſtory.
About my wager I'm by no means sorry.
And if I gain my end with glory
Allow me to exult from a full breaſt.
Duſt ſhall he eat and that with zeſt,
Like my old aunt, the snake, whose fame is hoary.
The Lord. Well, go and come, and make thy trial ;
The like of thee I never yet did hate.
Of all the spirits of denial
The scamp is he I beſt can tolerate.
Man is too prone, at beſt, to seek the way that's easy,
He soon grows fond of unconditioned reſt;
And therefore such a comrade suits him beſt,
Who spurs and works, true devil, always busy.
But you, true sons of God, in growing measure,
Enjoy rich beauty's living ſtores of pleasure !
The Word 3 divine that lives and works for aye,
Fold you in boundless love's embrace alluring,
And what in floating vision glides away,
That seize ye and make faſt with thoughts enduring.
[Heaven closes, the archangels disperse.]
Mephiſtopheles. [Alone.) I like at times to ex-
change with him a word,
And take care not to break with him. 'Tis civil
In the old fellow 4 and so great a Lord
To talk so kindly with the very devil.
FAUST.
Night. In a narrow high-arched Gothic room, Faust sitting
uneasy at his desk.
Fauſt. Have now, alas ! quite studied through
Philosophy and Medicine,
And Law, and ah! Theology, too,
With hot desire the truth to win!
And here, at laſt, I ſtand, poor fool!
As wise as when I entered school;
Am called Magiſter, Doctor, indeed,
Ten livelong years cease not to lead
Backward and forward, to and fro,
My scholars by the nose—and lo!
Juſt nothing, I see, is the sum of our learning,
To the very core of my heart ’tis burning.
'Tis true I'm more clever than all the foplings,
Doctors, Magiſters, Authors, and Popelings;
Am plagued by no scruple, nor doubt, nor cavil,
Nor lingering fear of hell or devil-
What then? all pleasure is fled forever,
To know one thing I vainly endeavor,
There's nothing wherein one fellow-creature
Could be mended or bettered with me for a teacher.
(29)
30
FAUST.
And then, too, nor goods nor gold have I,
Nor fame nor worldly dignity,
A condition no dog could longer live in!
And so to magic my soul I've given,
If, haply, by spirits' mouth and might,
Some myſteries may not be brought to light;
That to teach, no longer may be my lot,
With bitter sweat, what I need to be taught;
That I may know what the world contains
In its innermost heart and finer veins,
See all its energies and seeds
And deal no more in words but in deeds.
O full, round Moon, didſt thou but ſhine
For the laſt time on this woe of mine!
Thou whom so many a midnight I
Have watched, at this deſk, come up the ſky :
Then, mournful friend! uprose thy smile!
Oh that I might on the mountain-height,
Walk in the noon of thy blessed light,
Round mountain-caverns with spirits hover,
Float in thy gleamings the meadows over,
And freed from the fumes of a lore-crammed brain,
Bathe in thy dew and be well again!
Woe! and these walls ſtill prison me?
Dull, dismal hole! my curse on thee!
Where heaven's own light, with its blessed beams,
Through painted panes all sickly gleams !
FAUST.
Hemmed in by these old book-piles tall,
Which, gnawed by worms and deep in muſt,
· Rise to the roof against a wall
Of smoke-stained paper, thick with duſt;
'Mid glasses, boxes, where eye can see,
Filled with old, obsolete instruments,
Stuffed with old heirlooms of implements-
That is thy world! There's a world for thee!
And still doſt aſk what ſtifles so
The fluttering heart within thy breaſt ?
By what inexplicable woe
The springs of life are all oppressed ?
Instead of living nature, where
God made and planted men, his sons,
Through smoke and mould, around thee stare
Grim ſkeletons and dead men's bones.
Up! Fly! Far out into the land !
And this myſterious volume, see!
By Noſtradamus's 5 own hand,
Is it not guide enough for thee?
Then ſhalt thou thread the ſtarry ſkies,
And, taught by nature in her walks,
The spirit's might shall o’er thee rise,
As ghoſt to ghoſt familiar talks.
Vain hope that mere dry sense ſhould here
Explain the holy signs to thee.
I feel you, spirits, hovering near ;
Oh, if you hear me, answer me!
[He opens the book and beholds the sign of the Macrocosm.o]
32
FAUST.
Ha! as I gaze, what ecſtasy is this,
In one full tide through all my senses flowing !
I feel a new-born life, a holy bliss
Through nerves and veins myſteriously glowing.
Was it a God who wrote each sign?
Which, all my inner tumult ſtilling,
And this poor heart with rapture filling,
Reveals to me, by force divine,
Great Nature's energies around and through me
thrilling ?
Am I a God? It grows so bright to me!
Each character on which my eye reposes
Nature in act before my soul discloses.
The sage’s word was truth, at laſt I see :
“ The spirit-world, unbarred, is waiting;
Thy sense is locked, thy heart is dead!
Up, scholar, bathe, unhesitating,
The earthly breaſt in morning-red!”
[He contemplates the sign.]
How all one whole harmonious weaves,
Each in the other works and lives!
See heavenly powers ascending and descending,
The golden buckets, one long line, extending !
See them with bliss-exhaling pinions winging
Their way from heaven through earth-their singing
Harmonious through the universe is ringing!
Majeſtic ſhow! but ah! a ſhow alone!
Nature ! where find I thee, immense, unknown ?
Where you, ye breaſts? Ye founts all life suſtaining,
FAUST.
On which hang heaven and earth, and where
Men’s withered hearts their waſte repair-
Ye guſh, ye nurse, and I muſt sit complaining ?
[He opens reluctantly the book and sees the sign of the earth-
spirit.]
How differently works on me this sign!
Thou, spirit of the earth, art to me nearer ;
I feel my powers already higher, clearer,
I glow already as with new-pressed wine,
I feel the mood to brave life's ceaseless claſhing,
To bear its frowning woes, its raptures flaſhing,
To mingle in the tempeſt’s daſhing,
And not to tremble in the ſhipwreck's craſhing;
Clouds gather o'er my head-
The moon conceals her light-
The lamp goes out!
It smokes !-Red rays are darting, quivering
Around my head—comes down
A horror from the vaulted roof
And seizes me!
Spirit that I invoked, thou near me art,
Unveil thyself!
Ha! what a tearing in my heart !
Upheaved like an ocean
My senses toss with ſtrange emotion!
I feel my heart to thee entirely given !
Thou muſt! and though the price were life-were
heaven!
11
34
FAUST.
[He seizes the book and pronounces mysteriously the sign of the
spirit. A ruddy flame darts out, the spirit appears in the
flame.]
Spirit. Who calls upon me?
Who calls
Fauft. [Turning away.]
Horrid sight!
Spirit. Long have I felt the mighty action,
Upon my sphere, of thy attraction,
And now,
Fauſt. Away, intolerable sprite !
Spirit. Thou breath’st a panting supplication
To hear my voice, my face to see ;
Thy mighty prayer prevails on me,
I come !--what miserable agitation
Seizes this demigod! Where is the cry of thought ?
Where is the breaſt ? that in itself a world begot,
And bore and cherished, that with joy did tremble
And fondly dream us spirits to resemble.
Where art thou, Fauſt? whose voice rang through
my ear,
Whose mighty yearning drew me from my sphere?
Is this thing thou? that, blaſted by my breath,
Through all life’s windings ſhuddereth,
A shrinking, cringing, writhing worm!
Fauft. Thee, flame-born creature, ſhall I fear?
'Tis I, ’tis Fauſt, behold thy peer!
Spirit. In life's tide currents, in action's ſtorm,
Up and down, like a wave,
Like the wind I sweep!
FAUST.
35
Cradle and grave
A limitless deep-
An endless weaving
To and fro,
A reſtless heaving
Of life and glow,
So ſhape I, on Deſtiny's thundering loom,
The Godhead's live garment, eternal in bloom.
Fauft. Spirit that sweep'ſt the world from end to
end,
How near, this hour, I feel myself to thee!
Spirit. Thou’rt like the spirit thou canſt com-
prehend,
Not me!
(Vaniſhes.
Fauft. [Collapsing.) Not thee?
Whom then?
I, image of the Godhead,
And no peer for thee!
[A knocking.]
O Death! I know it !’tis my Famulus-7
Good-bye, ye dreams of bliss Elysian!
Shame! that so many a glowing vision
This dried-up sneak muſt scatter thus!
[WAGNER, in sleeping-gown and night-cap, a lamp in his
hand. Faust turns round with an annoyed look.]
Wagner. Excuse me! you're engaged in declama-
tion ;
"'Twas a Greek tragedy no doubt you read ?
I in this art should like initiation,
FAUST.
For nowadays it ſtands one well inſtead.
I've often heard them boaſt, a preacher
Might profit with a player for his teacher.
Fauft. Yes, when the preacher is a player,
. granted:
As often happens in our modern ways.
Wagner. Ah! when one with such love of ſtudy's
haunted,
And scarcely sees the world on holidays,
And takes a spy-glass, as it were, to read it,
How can one by persuasion hope to lead it?
Fauft. What you don't feel, you'll never catch by
hunting,
It muſt guſh out spontaneous from the soul,
And with a freſh delight enchanting
The hearts of all that hear control.
Sit there forever! Thaw your glue-pot,-
Blow up your aſh-heap to a flame, and brew,
With a dull fire, in your ſtew-pot,
Of other men's leavings a ragout !
Children and apes will gaze delighted,
If their critiques can pleasure impart ;
But never a heart will be ignited,
Comes not the spark from the speaker's heart.
Wagner. Delivery makes the orator's success;
There I'm ſtill far behindhand, I confess.
Fauft. Seek honeſt gains, without pretence !
Be not a cymbal-tinkling fool !
FAUST.
Sound underſtanding and good sense
Speak out with little art or rule;
And when you've something earneſt to utter,
Why hunt for words in such a flutter ?
Yes, your discourses, that are so refined,
In which humanity's poor ſhreds you frizzle,
Are unrefreſhing as the miſt and wind
That through the withered leaves of autumn whiſtle !
Wagner. Ah God! well, art is long!
And life is ſhort and fleeting.
What headaches have I felt and what heart-beating,
When critical desire was ſtrong.
How hard it is the ways and means to maſter
By which one gains each fountain-head!
And ere one yet has half the journey sped,
The poor fool dies–O sad disaſter!
Fauſt. Is parchment, then, the holy well-spring,
thinkeſt,
A draught from which thy thirſt forever slakes ?
Till up from thine own soul the fountain breaks.
Wagner. Excuse me! in these olden pages
We catch the spirit of the by-gone ages,
We see what wiseſt men before our day have thought,
And to what glorious heights we their bequeſts have
brought.
Fauft. O yes, we've reached the ſtars at laſt!
My friend, it is to us,-the buried paſt,-
38
FAUST.
A book with seven seals protected;
Your spirit of the times is, then,
At bottom, your own spirit, gentlemen,
In which the times are seen reflected.
And often such a mess that none can bear it;
At the firſt sight of it they run away.
A duſt-bin and a lumber-garret,
At moſt a mock-heroic play 8
With fine, pragmatic maxims teeming,
The mouths of puppets well-beseeming!
Wagner. But then the world! the heart and mind
of man!
To know of these who would not pay attention?
Fauft. To know them, yes, as weaklings can!
Who dares the child's true name outright to mention?
The few who any thing thereof have learned,
Who out of their heart's fulness needs muſt gabble,
And show their thoughts and feelings to the rabble,
Have evermore been crucified and burned.
I pray you, friend, 'tis wearing into night,
Let us adjourn here, for the present.
Wagner. I had been glad to ſtay till morning
light,
This learned talk with you has been so pleasant,
But the firſt day of Eaſter comes to-morrow,
And then an hour or two I'll borrow.
With zeal have I applied myself to learning,
True, I know much, yet to know all am burning.
[Exit.]
FAUST.
39
Fauſt. [Alone.] See how in his head only, hope
ſtill lingers,
Who evermore to empty rubbiſh clings,
With greedy hand grubs after precious things,
And leaps for joy when some poor worm he fingers !
That such a human voice ſhould dare intrude,
Where all was full of ghoſtly tones and features!
Yet ah! this once, my gratitude
Is due to thee, moſt wretched of earth's creatures.
Thou snatchedſt me from the despairing state
In which my senses, well nigh crazed, were sunken.
The apparition was so giant-great,
That to a very dwarf my soul had ſhrunken.
I, godlike, who in fancy saw but now
Eternal truth's fair glass in wondrous nearness,
Rejoiced in heavenly radiance and clearness,
Leaving the earthly man below;
I, more than cherub, whose free force
Dreamed, through the veins of nature penetrating,
To taſte the life of Gods, like them creating,
Behold me this presumption expiating!
A word of thunder sweeps me from my course.
Myself with thee no longer dare I measure;
Had I the power to draw thee down at pleasure ;
'To hold thee here I ſtill had not the force.
Oh, in that bleſt, ecſtatic hour,
I felt myself so small, so great ;
Thou droveſt me with cruel power
Back upon man's uncertain fate.
40
FAUST.
1
.
What ſhall I do? what ſhun, thus lonely?
That impulse muſt I, then, obey? i
Alas! our very deeds, and not our sufferings only,
How do they hem and choke life’s way!
To all the mind conceives of great and glorious
A ſtrange and baser mixture ſtill adheres;
Striving for earthly good are we victorious ?
A dream and cheat the better part appears.
The feelings that could once such noble life inspire
Are quenched and trampled out in passion's mire.
Where Fantasy, erewhile, with daring flight
Out to the infinite her wings expanded,
A little space can now suffice her quite,
When hope on hope time's gulf has wrecked and
ſtranded.
Care builds her neſt far down the heart's recesses,
There broods o'er dark, untold distresses,
Reſtless ſhe sits, and scares thy joy and peace away ;
She puts on some new maſk with each new day,
Herself as house and home, as wife and child pre-
senting
As fire and water, bane and blade ;
What never hits makes thee afraid,
And what is never loft ſhe keeps thee ſtill lament-
ing.
Not like the Gods am I! Too deep that truth is
thruſt!
But like the worm, that wriggles through the duſt;
FAUST.
41
Who, as along the duſt for food he feels,
Is cruſhed and buried by the traveller's heels.
Is it not duſt that makes this lofty wall
Groan with its hundred ſhelves and cases ;
The rubbiſh and the thousand trifles all
That crowd these dark, moth-peopled places ?
Here ſhall my craving heart find reſt?
Muſt I perchance a thousand books turn over,
To find that men are everywhere diſtreſt,
And here and there one happy one discover ?
Why grin'ſt thou down upon me, hollow ſkull ?
But that thy brain, like mine, once trembling, hop-
ing,
Sought the light day, yet ever sorrowful,
Burned for the truth in vain, in twilight groping?
Ye, inſtruments, of course, are mocking me;
Its wheels, cogs, bands, and barrels each one praises.
I waited at the door; you were the key;
Your ward is nicely turned, and yet no bolt it raises.
Unlifted in the broadeſt day,
Doth Nature's veil from prying eyes defend her,
And what ſhe chooses not before thee to display,
Not all thy screws and levers can force her to sur-
render.
Old trumpery! not that I e'er used thee, but
Because my father used thee, hang'ſt thou o'er me,
Old scroll! thou haſt been ſtained with smoke and
smut
42
FAUST.
Since, on this deſk, the lamp firſt dimly gleamed
before me.
Better have squandered, far, I now can clearly see,
My little all, than melt beneath it, in this Tophet!
That which thy fathers have bequeathed to thee,
Earn and become possessor of it!
What profits not a weary load will be
What it brings forth alone can yield the moment
profit.
Why do I gaze as if a spell had bound me
Up yonder? Is that flaſk a magnet to the eyes ?
What lovely light, so sudden, blooms around me?
As when in nightly woods we hail the full-moon-rise.
I greet thee, rareſt phial, precious potion!
As now I take thee down with deep devotion,
In thee I venerate man's wit and art.
Quintessence of all soporific flowers,
Extract of all the fineſt deadly powers,
Thy favor to thy maſter now impart!
I look on thee, the sight my pain appeases,
I handle thee, the ſtrife of longing ceases,
The flood-tide of the spirit ebbs away.
Far out to sea I'm drawn, sweet voices liſtening,
The glassy waters at my feet are gliſtening,
To new ſhores beckons me a new-born day.
A fiery chariot floats, on airy pinions,
To where I sit! Willing, it beareth me,
On a new path, through ether's blue dominions,
To untried spheres of pure activity.
FAUST.
43
This lofty life, this bliss elysian,
Worm that thou waſt erewhile, deserveſt thou ?
Ay, on this earthly sun, this charming vision,
Turn thy back resolutely now!
Boldly draw near and rend the gates asunder,
By which each cowering mortal gladly ſteals.
Now is the time to ſhow by deeds of wonder
That manly greatness not to godlike glory yields ;
Before that gloomy pit to ſtand, unfearing,
Where Fantasy self-damned in its own torment lies,
Still onward to that pass-way ſteering,
Around whose narrow mouth hell-flames forever rise;
Calmly to dare the ſtep, serene, unſhrinking,
Though into nothingness the hour ſhould see thee
sinking.
Now, then, come down from thy old case, I bid
thee,
Where thou, forgotten, many a year haft hid thee,
Into thy maſter's hand, pure, cryſtal glass!
The joy-feaſts of the fathers thou haſt brightened,
The hearts of graveſt gueſts were lightened,
When, pledged, from hand to hand they saw thee
pass.
Thy sides, with many a curious type bedight,
Which each, as with one draught he quaffed the
liquor
Muſt read in rhyme from off the wondrous beaker,
Remind me, ah! of many a youthful night.
44
FAUST.
I ſhall not hand thee now to any neighbor,
Not now to ſhow my wit upon thy carvings labor;
Here is a juice of quick-intoxicating might.
The rich brown flood adown thy sides is ſtreaming,
With my own choice ingredients teeming;
Be this laſt draught, as morning now is gleaming,
Drained as a lofty pledge to greet the feſtal light!
[He puts the goblet to his lips.
Ringing of bells and choral song.
Chorus of Angels. Chriſt hath arisen!
Joy to humanity!
No more ſhall vanity,
Death and inanity
Hold thee in prison!
Fauft. What hum of music, what a radiant tone,
Thrills through me, from my lips the goblet ſtealing!
Ye murmuring bells, already make ye known
The Eaſter morn's firſt hour, with solemn pealing ?
Sing you, ye choirs, e’en now, the glad, consoling
song,
That once, from angel-lips, through gloom sepul-
chral rung,
A new immortal covenant sealing ?
Chorus of Women. Spices we carried,
Laid them upon his breaſt;
Tenderly buried
Him whom we loved the beſt;
In
FAUST.
Cleanly to bind him
Took we the fondeſt care,
Ah! and we find him
Now no more there.
Chorus of Angels. Chriſt hath ascended!
Reign in benignity!
Pain and indignity,
Scorn and malignity,
Their work have ended.
Fauſt. Why seek ye me in dust, forlorn,
Ye heavenly tones, with soft enchanting?
Go, greet pure-hearted men this holy morn!
Your message well I hear, but faith to me is want-
ing;
Wonder, its dearest child, of Faith is born.
To yonder spheres I dare no more aspire,
Whence the sweet tidings downward float;
And yet, from childhood heard, the old, familiar note
Calls back e’en now to life my warm desire.
Ah! once how sweetly fell on me the kiss
Of heavenly love in the still Sabbath stealing !
Prophetically rang the bells with solemn pealing ;
A prayer was then the ecstasy of bliss ;
A blessed and mysterious yearning
Drew me to roam through meadows, woods, and
ſkies;
And, midst a thousand tear-drops burning,
I felt a world within me rise.
46
FAUST.
That strain, oh, how it speaks youth's gleesome
plays and feelings,
Joys of spring-festivals long past;
Remembrance holds me now, with childhood's fond
appealings,
Back from the fatal step, the last.
Sound on, ye heavenly strains, that bliss restore me!
Tears gush, once more the spell of earth is o’er me !
Chorus of Disciples. Has the grave's lowly one
Risen victorious ?
Sits he, God's Holy One,
High-throned and glorious ?
He, in this blest new birth,
Rapture creative knows ; 9
Ah! on the breast of earth
Taste we still nature's woes.
Left here to languish
Lone in a world like this,
Fills us with anguiſh
Master, thy bliss!
Chorus of Angels. Christ has arisen
Out of corruption's gloom.
Break from your prison,
Burst every tomb!
Livingly owning him,
Lovingly throning him,
Feasting fraternally,
Praying diurnally,
FAUST.
Bearing his messages,
Sharing his promises,
Find ye your master near,
Find ye him here! 10
QUO
FAUST.
BEFORE THE GATE.
Pedestrians of all descriptions stroll forth.
Mechanics' Apprentices. Where are you going to
carouse?
Others. We're all going out to the Hunter's
House.
The Firſt. We're going, ourselves, out to the
Mill-House, brothers.
An Apprentice. The Fountain-House I rather
recommend.
Second. 'Tis not a pleasant road, my friend.
The second group. What will you do, then?
A Third. I go with the others.
Fourth. Come up to Burgdorf, there you're sure
to find good cheer,
The handsomest of girls and best of beer,
And rows, too, of the very first water.
Fifth. You monstrous madcap, does your ſkin
Itch for the third time to try that inn?
I've had enough for my taste in that quarter.
Servant-girl. No! I'm going back again to town
for one.
Others. Under those poplars we are sure to meet
him.
Firſt Girl. But that for me is no great fun;
For you are always sure to get him,
FAUST.
49
He never dances with any but you.
Great good to me your luck will do!
Others. He's not alone, I heard him say,
The curly-head would be with him to-day.
Scholar. Stars! how the buxom wenches stride
there!
Quick, brother! we must fasten alongside there.
Strong beer, good smart tobacco, and the waist
Of a right handsome gall, well rigg'd, now that's my
taste.
Citizen's Daughter. Do see those fine, young fel-
lows yonder!
'Tis, I declare, a great disgrace ;
When they might have the very best, I wonder,
After these galls they needs must race!
Second scholar [to the firſt]. Stop! not so fast!
there come two more behind,
My eyes! but ain't they dressed up neatly?
One is my neighbor, or I'm blind;
I love the girl, ſhe looks so sweetly.
Alone all quietly they go,
You'll find they'll take us, by and bye, in tow.
Firſt. No, brother! I don't like these starched
up ways.
Make haste! before the game slips through our fin-
gers.
The hand that swings the broom o' Saturdays
On Sundays round thy neck most sweetly lingers.
50
FAUST.
Citizen. No, I don't like at all this new-made
burgomaster!
His insolence grows daily ever faster.
No good from him the town will get!
Will things grow better with him? Never!
We're under more constraint than ever,
And pay more tax than ever yet.
Beggar. [Sings.] Good gentlemen, and you, fair
ladies,
With such red cheeks and handsome dress,
Think what my melancholy trade is, .
And see and pity my distress!
Help the poor harper, sisters, brothers!
Who loves to give, alone is gay.
This day, a holiday to others,
Make it for me a harvest day.
Another citizen. Sundays and holidays, I like, of
all things, a good prattle
Of war and fighting, and the whole array,
When back in Turkey, far away,
The peoples give each other battle.
One stands before the window, drinks his glass,
And sees the ſhips with flags glide slowly down the
river;
Comes home at night, when out of sight they pass,
And sings with joy, “Oh, peace forever!”
Third citizen. So I say, neighbor! let them have
their way,
FAUST.
S
Crack ſkulls and in their crazy riot
Turn all things upside down they may,
But leave us here in peace and quiet.
Old Woman [to the citizen's daughter). Heyday,
brave prinking this! the fine young blood !
Who is not smitten that has met you ? -
But not so proud! All very good!
And what you want I'll promise soon to get you.
Citizen's Daughter. Come, Agatha! I dread in
public sight
To prattle with such hags ; don't stay, O, Luddy!
'Tis true ſhe ſhowed me, on St. Andrew's night,
My future sweetheart in the body.
The other. She ſhowed me mine, too, in a glass,
Right soldierlike, with daring comrades round him.
I look all round, I study all that pass,
But to this hour I have not found him.
Soldiers. Castles with lowering
Bulwarks and towers,
Maidens with towering
Passions and powers,
Both ſhall be ours!
Daring the venture,
Glorious the pay!
When the brass trumpet
Summons us loudly,
Joy-ward or death-ward,
On we march proudly.
That is a storming!
FAUST.
Life in its splendor!
Castles and maidens
Both must surrender.
Daring the venture,
Glorious the pay.
There.go the soldiers
Marching away!
Faust and Wagner.
Fauſt. Spring's warm look has unfettered the
fountains,
Brooks go tinkling with silvery feet;
Hope's bright blossoms the valley greet;
Weakly and sickly up the rough mountains
Pale old Winter has made his retreat.
Thence he launches, in ſheer despite,
Sleet and hail in impotent ſhowers,
O'er the green lawn as he takes his flight;
But the sun will suffer no white,
Everywhere waking the formative powers,
Living colors he yearns to spread ;
Yet, as he finds it too early for flowers,
Gayly dressed people he takes instead.
Look from this height whereon we find us
Back to the town we have left behind us,
Where from the dark and narrow door
Forth a motley multitude pour.
They sun themselves gladly and all are gay,
They celebrate Christ's resurrection to-day.
FAUST.
For have not they themselves arisen?
From smoky huts and hovels and stables,
From labor's bonds and traffic's prison,
From the confinement of roofs and gables,
From many a cramping street and alley,
From churches full of the old world's night,
All have come out to the day's broad light.
See, only see! how the masses sally
Streaming and swarming through gardens and fields,
How the broad stream that bathes the valley
Is everywhere cut with pleasure boats' keels,
And that last ſkiff, so heavily laden,
Almost to sinking, puts off in the stream ;
Ribbons and jewels of youngster and maiden
From the far paths of the mountain gleam.
How it hums o’er the fields and clangs from the
steeple!
This is the real heaven of the people,
Both great and little are merry and gay,
I am a man, too, I can be, to-day.
Wagner. With you, Sir Doctor, to go out walk-
ing
Is at all times honor and gain enough;
But to trust myself here alone would be ſhocking,
For I am a foe to all that is rough.
Fiddling and bowling and screams and laughter
To me are the hatefullest noises on earth ;
They yell as if Satan himself were after,
And call it music and call it mirth.
e
54
FAUST.
[Peasants (under the linden). Dance and song:]
The ſhepherd prinked him for the dance,
With jacket gay and spangle’s glance,
And all his finest quiddle.
And round the linden lass and lad
They wheeled and whirled and danced like mad.
Huzza! huzza!
Huzza! Ha, ha, ha!
And tweedle-dee went the fiddle.
T
And in he bounded through the whirl,
And with his elbow punched a girl,
Heigh diddle, diddle!
The buxom wench ſhe turned round quick,
“ Now that I call a scurvy trick!”
Huzza! huzza!
Huzza! ha, ha, ha!
Tweedle-dee, tweedle-dee went the fiddle.
And petticoats and coat-tails flew
As up and down they went, and through,
Across and down the middle.
They all grew red, they all grew warm,
And rested, panting, arm in arm,
Huzza! huzza!
Ta-ra-la!
Tweedle-dee went the fiddle!
FAUST.
1
“And don't be so familiar there!
How many a one, with speeches fair,
His trusting maid will diddle!”
But still he flattered her aside
And from the linden sounded wide :
Huzza! huzza! .
Huzza! huzza! ha! ha! ha!
And tweedle-dee the fiddle.
Old Peasant. Sir Doctor, this is kind of you,
That with us here you deign to talk,
And through the crowd of folk to-day
A man so highly larned, walk.
So take the fairest pitcher here,
Which we with freſhest drink have filled,
I pledge it to you, praying aloud
That, while your thirst thereby is stilled,
So many days as the drops it contains
May fill out the life that to you remains.
Fauſt. I take the quickening.draught and call
For heaven's best blessing on one and all.
[The people form a circle round him.]
Old Peasant. Your presence with us, this glad
day,
We take it very kind, indeed!
In truth we've found you long ere this
In evil days a friend in need!
Full many a one stands living here,
Whom, at death's door already laid,
56
FAUST.
Your father snatched from fever's rage,
When, by his ſkill, the plague he stayed.
You, a young man, we daily saw
Go with him to the pest-house then,
And many a corpse was carried forth,
But you came out alive again.
With a charmed life you passed before us,
Helped by the Helper watching o'er us.
All. The well-tried man, and may he live,
Long years a helping hand to give!
Fauſt. Bow down to Him on high who sends
His heavenly help and helping friends!
[He goes on with WAGNER.
Wagner. What feelings, O great man, thy heart
must swell
Thus to receive a people's veneration !
O worthy all congratulation,
Whose gifts to such advantage tell.
The father to his son ſhows thee with exultation,
All run and crowd and aſk, the circle closer draws,
The fiddle stops, the dancers pause,
Thou goest—the lines fall back for thee.
They Aing their gay-decked caps on high;
A little more and they would bow the knee
As if the blessed Host came by.
Fauſt. A few steps further on, until we reach
that stone;
There will we rest us from our wandering.
FAUST.
57
How oft in prayer and penance there alone,
Fasting, I sate, on holy mysteries pondering.
There, rich in hope, in faith still firm,
I've wept, sighed, wrung my hands and striven
This plague’s removal to extort (poor worm!)
From the almighty Lord of Heaven.
The crowd's applause has now a scornful tone;
O couldst thou hear my conscience tell its story,
How little either sire or son
Has done to merit such a glory!
My father was a worthy man, confused
And darkened with his narrow lucubrations,
Who with a whimsical, though well-meant pa-
tience,
On Nature's holy circles mused.
Shut up in his black laboratory,
Experimenting without end,
'Midst his adepts, till he grew hoary,
He sought the opposing powers to blend.
Thus, a red lion, a bold suitor, married
The silver lily, in the lukewarm bath,
And, from one bride-bed to another harried,
The two were seen to fly before the faming wrath.
If then, with colors gay and splendid,
The glass the youthful queen revealed,
Here was the physic, death the patients' sufferings
ended,
And no one aſked, who then was healed ?
58
FĂUST.
Thus, with electuaries so satanic, .
Worse than the plague with all its panic,
We rioted through hill and vale ;
Myself, with my own hands, the drug to thousands
giving,
They passed away, and I am living
To hear men's thanks the murderers hail!
Wagner. Forbear! far other name that service
merits !
Can a brave man do more or less
Than with nice conscientiousness
To exercise the calling he inherits?
If thou, as youth, thy father honorest,
To learn from him thou wilt desire ; .
If thou, as man, men with new light hast blest,
Then may thy son to loftier heights aspire.
Fauſt. O blest! who hopes to find repose,
Up from this mighty sea of error diving!
Man cannot use what he already knows,
To use the unknown ever striving.
But let not such dark thoughts a shadow throw
O’er the bright joy this hour inspires !
See how the setting sun, with ruddy glow,
The green-embosomed hamlet fires !
He sinks and fades, the day is lived and gone,
He hastens forth new scenes of life to waken.
O for a wing to lift and bear me on,
And on, to where his last rays beckon!
FAUST.
59
Then ſhould I see the world's calm breast
In everlasting sunset glowing,
The summits all on fire, each valley steeped in rest,
The silver brook to golden rivers fowing.
No savage mountain climbing to the ſkies
Should stay the godlike course with wild abysses ;
And now the sea, with ſheltering, warm recesses
Spreads out before the astoniſhed eyes.
At last it seems as if the God were sinking;
But a new impulse fires the mind,
Onward I speed, his endless glory drinking,
The day before me and the night behind,
The heavens above my head and under me the ocean.
A lovely dream,—meanwhile he's gone from sight.
Ah! sure, no earthly wing, in swiftest flight,
May with the spirit's wings hold equal motion.
Yet has each soul an inborn feeling
Impelling it to mount and soar away,
When, lost in heaven's blue depths, the lark is peal-
ing
High overhead her airy lay;
When o'er the mountain pine's black ſhadow,
With outspread wing the eagle sweeps,
And, steering on o'er lake and meadow,
The crane his homeward journey keeps.
Wagner. I've had myself full many a wayward
. hour,
But never yet felt such a passion's power.
60
FAUST.
One soon grows tired of field and wood and brook,
I envy not the fowl of heaven his pinions.
Far nobler joy to soar through thought's dominions
From page to page, from book to book!
Ah! winter nights, so dear to mind and soul!
Warm, blissful life through all the limbs is thrilling,
And when thy hands unfold a genuine ancient scroll,
It seems as if all heaven the room were filling.
Fauſt. One passion only has thy heart possessed;
The other, friend, 0, learn it never!
Two souls, alas! are lodged in my wild breast,
Which evermore opposing ways endeavor,
The one lives only on the joys of time,
Still to the world with clamp-like organs clinging;
The other leaves this earthly dust and ſlime,
To fields of sainted sires up-springing.
0, are there spirits in the air,
That empire hold 'twixt earth’s and heaven's domin-
nions,
Down from your realm of golden haze repair,
Waft me to new, rich life, upon your rosy pinions!
Ay! were a magic mantle only mine,
To soar o'er earth's wide wildernesses,
I would not sell it for the costliest dresses,
Not for a royal robe the gift resign.
Wagner. O, call them not, the well known
powers of air,
That swarm through all the middle kingdom, weav-
ing
FAUST.
61
Their fairy webs, with many a fatal snare
The feeble race of men deceiving.
First, the ſharp spirit-tooth, from out the North,
And arrowy tongues and fangs come thickly flying;
Then from the East they greedily dart forth,
Sucking thy lungs, thy life-juice drying;
If from the South they come with fever thirst,
Upon thy head noon's fiery splendors heaping;
The Westwind brings a swarm, refreſhing first,
Then all thy world with thee in stupor steeping.
They listen gladly, aye on mischief bent,
Gladly draw near, each weak point to espy,
They make believe that they from heaven are sent,
Whispering like angels, while they lie.
But let us go! The earth looks gray, my friend,
The air grows cool, the mists ascend!
At night we learn our homes to prize.-
Why dost thou stop and stare with all thy eyes ?
What can so chain thy sight there, in the gloaming?
Fauſt. Seest thou that black dog through stalks
and stubble roaming ?
Wagner. I saw him some time since, he seemed
not strange to me.
Fauſt. Look ſharply! What dost take the beast
to be?
Wagner. For some poor poodle who has lost his
master,
And, dog-like, scents him o'er the ground.
62
FAUST.
Fauſt. Markst thou how, ever nearer, ever faster,
Towards us his spiral track wheels round and round?
And if my senses suffer no confusion,
Behind him trails a fiery glare.
Wagner. 'Tis probably an optical illusion;
I still see only a black poodle there.
Fauſt. He seems to me as he were tracing ſlyly
His magic rings our feet at last to snare.
Wagner. To me he seems to dart around our
steps so ſhyly,
As if he said : is one of them my master there?
Fauſt. The circle narrows, he is near!
Wagner. Thou seest! a dog we have, no spectre,
here!
He growls and stops, crawls on his belly, too,
And wags his tail,—as all dogs do.
Fauſt. Come here, sir! come, our comrade be!
Wagner. He has a poodle's drollery.
Stand still, and he, too, waits to see;
Speak to him, and he jumps on thee;
Lose something, drop thy cane or Aling it
Into the stream, he'll run and bring it.
Fauſt. I think you're right; I trace no spirit here,
'Tis all the fruit of training, that is clear.
Wagner. A well-trained dog is a great treasure,
Wise men in such will oft take pleasure.
And he deserves your favor and a collar,
He, of the ſtudents the accompliſhed scholar.
[They go in through the town gate.]
FAUST.
STUDY-CHAMBER.
Enter FausT with the POODLE.
I leave behind me field and meadow
Veiled in the duſk of holy night,
Whose ominous and awful ſhadow
Awakes the better soul to light.
To ſleep are lulled the wild desires,
The hand of passion lies at reſt;
The love of man the bosom fires,
The love of God ſtirs up the breaſt.
Be quiet, poodle ! what worrisome fiend hath pos-
seſt thee,
Nosing and snuffling so round the door?
Go behind the ſtove there and reſt thee,
There's my beſt pillow—what wouldſt thou more?
As, out on the mountain-paths, friſking and leaping,
Thou, to amuse us, haſt done thy beſt,
So now in return lie ſtill in my keeping,
A quiet, contented, and welcome gueſt.
When, in our narrow chamber, nightly,
The friendly lamp begins to burn,
Then in the bosom thought beams brightly,
Homeward the heart will then return.
64
FAUST.
Reason once more bids passion ponder,
Hope blooms again and smiles on man;
Back to life’s rills he yearns to wander,
Ah! to the source where life began.
Stop growling, poodle! In the music Elysian
That laps my soul at this holy hour,
These beſtial noises have jarring power.
We know that men will treat with derision
Whatever they cannot underſtand,
At goodness and truth and beauty's vision
Will ſhut their eyes and murmur and howl at it;
And muſt the dog, too, snarl and growl at it ?
But ah, with the beſt will, I feel already,
No peace will well up in me, clear and ſteady.
But why muſt hope so soon deceive us,
And the dried-up ſtream in fever leave us ?
For in this I have had a full probation.
And yet for this want a supply is provided,
To a higher than earth the soul is guided,
We are ready and yearn for revelation :
And where are its light and warmth so blent
As here in the New Teſtament?
I feel, this moment, a mighty yearning
To expound for once the ground text of all,
The venerable original
Into my own loved German honeſtly turning.
[He opens the volume, and applies himself to the task.]
FAUST.
65
“In the beginning was the Word.” I read.
But here I ſtick! Who helps me to proceed?
The Word—so high I cannot—dare not, rate it,
I muſt, then, otherwise translate it,
If by the spirit I am rightly taught.
It reads: “In the beginning was the thought.”
But ſtudy well this first line’s lesson,
Nor let thy pen to error overhaften!
Is it the thought does all from time's firſt hour?
« In the beginning,” read then, “was the power."
Yet even while I write it down, my finger
Is checked, a voice forbids me there to linger.
The spirit helps! At once I dare to read
And write : “In the beginning was the deed.”
If I with thee müſt ſhare my chamber,
Poodle, now, remember,
No more howling,
No more growling!
I had as lief a bull ſhould bellow,
As have for a chum such a noisy fellow.
Stop that yell, now,
One of us muſt quit this cell now!
'Tis hard to retract hospitality,
But the door is open, thy way is free.
But what ails the creature ?
Is this in the course of nature?
Is it real? or one of Fancy's ſhows ?
66
FAUST.
How long and broad my poodle grows !
He rises from the ground;
That is no longer the form of a hound !
Heaven avert the curse from us!
He looks like a hippopotamus,
With his fiery eyes and the terrible white
Of his grinning teeth! oh what a fright
Have I brought with me into the house! Ah now,
No myſtery art thou!
Methinks for such half helliſh brood
The key of Solomon were good.
Spirits [in the passage). Softly! a fellow is caught
there.!
Keep back, all of you, follow him not there!
Like the fox in the trap,
Mourns the old hell-lynx his mishap.
But give ye good heed!
This way hover, that way hover,
Over and over,
And he ſhall right soon be freed.
Help can you give him,
O do not leave him!
Many good turns he's done us,
Many a fortune won us.
Fauſt. First, to encounter the creature
By the spell of the Four, says the teacher :
FAUST.
Salamander ſhall gliſten, 12
Undina lapse lightly,
Sylph vaniſh brightly,
Kobold quick liſten.
He to whom Nature
Shows not, as teacher,
Every force
And secret source,
Over the spirits
No power inherits.
Vaniſh in glowing
Flame, Salamander !
Inward, spirally flowing,
Gurgle, Undine!
Gleam in meteoric splendor,
Airy Queen!
Thy homely help render,
Incubus! Incubus!
Forth and end the charm for us!
No kingdom of Nature
Resides in the creature.
He lies there grinning—'tis clear, my charm
Has done the monſter no mite of harm.
I'll try, for thy curing,
Stronger adjuring.
68
FAUST.
Art thou a jail-bird,
A runaway hell-bird?
This sign,13 then-adore it!
They tremble before it
All through the dark dwelling.
His hair is briſtling—his body swelling.
Reprobate creature !
The Uncreated,
Ineffably Holy,
With Deity mated,
Sin's victim lowly?
Driven behind the ſtove by my spells,
Like an elephant he swells ;
He fills the whole room, so huge he's grown,
He waxes ſhadowy faſter and faſter.
Rise not up to the ceiling--down!
Lay thyself at the feet of thy maſter!
Thou seeſt, there's reason to dread my ire.
I'll scorch thee with the holy fire!
Wait not for the sight
Of the thrice-glowing light !
Wait not to feel the might
Of the potenteſt spell in all my treasure !
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
[As the mist sinks, steps forth from behind the stove, dressed ds
a travelling scholasticus.]
Why all this noise? What is your worſhip’s pleas-
ure?
Fauſt. This was the poodle's essence then!
A travelling clark? Ha! ha! The casus is too
funny.
Mephiſtopheles. I bow to the moſt learned among
men!
'Faith you did sweat me without ceremony.
Fauſt. What is thy name?
Mephiſtopheles. The queſtion seems too small
For one who holds the word so very cheaply,
Who, far removed from ſhadows all,
For subſtances alone seeks deeply.
Fauſt. With gentlemen like him in my presence,
The name is apt to express the essence,
Especially if, when you inquire,
You find it God of fies, 14 Deſtroyer, Slanderer, Liar.
Well now, who art thou then ?
Mephiſtopheles. A portion of that power,
Which wills the bad and works the good at every
hour.
Fauft. Beneath thy riddle-word what meaning
lies?
Mephiſtopheles. I am the spirit that denies !
And juſtly so; for all that time creates,
70
FAUST.
He does well who annihilates !
Better, it ne'er had had beginning;
And so, then, all that you call sinning,
Deſtruction,--all you pronounce ill-meant,-
Is my original element.
Fauſt. Thou call'ſt thyself a part, yet look'ſt
complete to me.
Mephiſtopheles. I speak the modeſt truth to thee.
A world of folly in one little soul,
Man loves to think himself a whole ;
Part of the part am I, which once was all, the Gloorn
That brought forth Light itself from out her mighty
womb,
The upſtart proud, that now with mother Night
Disputes her ancient rank and space and right,
Yet never ſhall prevail, since, do whate'er he will,
He cleaves, a slave, to bodies ſtill ;
From bodies flows, makes bodies fair to sight;
A body in his course can check him,
His doom, I therefore hope, will soon o’ertake him,
With bodies merged in nothingness and night.
Fauſt. Ah, now I see thy high vocation!
In gross thou canſt not harm creation,
And so in small haſt now begun.
Mephiſtopheles. And, truth to tell, e'en here, not
much have done.
That which at nothing the gauntlet has hurled,
This, what's its name ? this clumsy world,
FAUST.
So far as I have undertaken,
I have to own, remains unſhaken
By wave, ſtorm, earthquake, fiery brand.
Calm, after all, remain both sea and land.
And the damn'd living ſtuff, of man and beaſt the
brood,
It laughs to scorn my utmoſt power.
I've buried myriads by the hour,
And ſtill there circulates each hour a new, freſh
blood.
It were enough to drive one to diſtraction!
Earth, water, air, in conſtant action,
Through moiſt and dry, through warm and cold,
Going forth in endless germination!
Had I not claimed of fire a reservation,
Not one thing I alone ſhould hold.
Fauſt. Thus, with the ever-working power
Of good doſt thou in ſtrife persiſt,
And in vain malice, to this hour,
Clencheſt thy cold and deviliſh fiſt!
Go try some other occupation,
Singular son of Chaos, thou!
Mephiſtopheles. We'll give the thing consideration,
When next we meet again! But now
Might I for once, with leave retire?
Fauſt. Why thou ſhouldſt aſk I do not see.
Now that I know thee, when desire
Shall prompt thee, freely visit me.
72
FAUST.
Window and door give free admission,
At leaſt there's left the chimney flue.
Mephiſtopheles. Let me confess there's one small
prohibition
Lies on thy threſhold, 'gainſt my walking through,
The wizard-foot—15
Fauſt.
Does that delay thee?
The Pentagram diſturbs thee? Now,
Come tell me, son of hell, I pray thee,
If that spell-binds thee, then how enteredſt thou?
Thou ſhouldſt proceed more circumspectly!
Mephiſtopheles. Mark well! the figure is not
drawn correctly;
One of the angles, 'tis the outer one,
Is somewhat open, doſt perceive it? .
Fauſt. That was a lucky hit, believe it!
And I have caught thee then? Well done!
'Twas wholly chance—I'm quite aſtounded!
Mephiſtopheles. The poodle took no heed, as
through the door he bounded;
The case looks differently now;
The devil can leave the house no-how.
Fauſt. The window offers free emission.
Mephiſtopheles. Devils and ghoſts are bound by
this condition:
The way they entered in, they muſt come out. Allow
In the firſt clause we're free, yet not so in the
second.
FAUST.
73
Fauſt. In hell itself, then, laws are reckoned ?
Now that I like ; so then, one may, in fact,
Conclude a binding compact with you gentry ?
Mephiſtopheles. Whatever promise on our books
finds entry,
We ſtrictly carry into act.
But hereby hangs a grave condition,
Of this we'll talk when next we meet;
But for the present I entreat
Moſt urgently your kind dismission.
Fauſt. Do ſtay but juſt one moment longer, then,
Tell me good news and I'll release thee.
Mephiſtopheles. Let me go now! I'll soon come
back again,
Then may'ſt thou aſk whate'er ſhall please thee.
Fauſt. I laid no snare for thee, old chap!
Thou ſhouldſt have watched and saved thy bacon.
Who has the devil in his trap
Muſt hold him faſt, next time he'll not so soon be
taken.
Mephiſtopheles. Well, if it please thee, I'm con-
tent to ſtay
For company, on one condition,
That I, for thy amusement, may
To exercise my arts have free permission.
"Fauſt. I gladly grant it, if they be
Not disagreeable to me.
Mephiſtopheles. Thy senses, friend, in this one
hour
74
FAUST.
Shall grasp the world with clearer power
Than in a year's monotony.
The songs the tender spirits sing thee,
The lovely images they bring thee
Are not an idle magic play.
Thou ſhalt enjoy the daintieſt savor,
Then feaſt thy taſte on richeſt flavor,
Then thy charmed heart ſhall melt away.
Come, all are here, and all have been
Well trained and practised, now begin!
Spirits. Vaniſh, ye gloomy
Vaulted abysses!
Tenderer, clearer,
Friendlier, nearer,
Ether, look through!
O that the darkling
Cloud-piles were riven!
Starlight is sparkling,
Purer is heaven,
Holier sunſhine
Softens the blue.
Graces, adorning
Sons of the morning-
Shadowy wavings
Float along over;
Yearnings and cravings
After them hover.
Garments ethereal,
FAUST.
Tresses aerial,
Float o'er the flowers,
Float o'er the bowers,
Where, with deep feeling,
Thoughtful and tender,
Lovers, embracing,
Life-vows are sealing.
Bowers on bowers !
Graceful and ſlender
Vines interlacing!
Purple and bluſhing,
Under the cruſhing
Wine-presses guſhing,
Grape-blood, o’erflowing,
Down over gleaming
Precious ſtones ſtreaming,
Leaves the bright glowing
Tops of the mountains,
Leaves the red fountains,
Widening and ruſhing,
Till it encloses
Green hills all Aluſhing,
Laden with roses.
Happy ones, swarming,
Ply their swift pinions,
Glide through the charming
Airy doininions,
Sunward ſtill ſteering,
FAUST.
Onward, where peering
Far o'er the ocean,
Islets are dancing
With an entrancing,
Magical motion;
Hear them, in chorus,
Singing high o'er us;
Over the meadows
Flit the bright ſhadows;
Glad eyes are glancing,
Tiny feet dancing.
Up the high ridges
Some of them clamber,
Others are ſkimming
Sky-lakes of amber,
Others are swimming
Over the ocean ;-
All are in motion,
Life-ward all yearning,
Longingly turning
To the far-burning
Star-light of bliss.
Mephiſtopheles. He ſleeps! Ye airy, tender youths,
your numbers
Have sung him into sweeteſt ſlumbers !
You put me greatly in your debt by this.
Thou art not yet the man that ſhall hold faſt the
devil !
FAUST.
Still cheat his senses with your magic revel,
Drown him in dreams of endless youth;
But this charm-mountain on the sill to level,
I need, O rat, thy pointed tooth!
Nor need I conjure long, they're near me,
E’en now comes scampering one, who presently will
hear me.
The sovereign lord of rats and mice,
Of flies and frogs and bugs and lice,
Commands thee to come forth this hour,
And gnaw this threſhold with great power,
As he with oil the same ſhall smear-
Ha! with a ſkip e’en now thou’rt here!
But briſk to work! The point by which I'm cow-
ered,
Is on the ledge, the fartheſt forward.
Yet one more bite, the deed is done.--
Now, Fauſt, until we meet again, dream on!
Fauft. Waking.] Again has witchcraft triumphed
o'er me?
Was it a ghoſtly ſhow, so soon withdrawn?
I dream, the devil ſtands himself before me
I wake, to find a poodle gone !
FAUST.
STUDY-CHAMBER.
FAUST. MEPHISTOPHeles.
Fauft. A knock! Walk in! Who comes again
to tease me?
Mephiſtopheles. 'Tis I.
Fauft. Come in!
Mephiſtopheles. Muſt say it thrice, to please me.
Fauft. Come in then!
Mephiſtopheles. That I like to hear.
We ſhall, I hope, bear with each other ;
For to dispel thy crotchets, brother,
As a young lord, I now appear,
In scarlet dress, trimmed with gold lacing,
A ſtiff silk cloak with ſtyliſh facing,
A tall cock's feather in my hat,
A long, ſharp rapier to defend me,
And I advise thee, ſhort and flat,
In the same coſtume to attend me;
If thou wouldſt, unembarrassed, see
What sort of thing this life may be.
Fauft. In every dress I well may feel the sore
Of this low earth-life’s melancholy.
I am too old to live for folly,
Too young, to wiſh for nothing more.
Am I content with all creation ?
FAUST.
Renounce! renounce! Renunciation-
Such is the everlaſting song
That in the ears of all men rings,
Which every hour, our whole life long,
With brazen accents hoarsely sings.
With terror I behold each morning's light,
With bitter tears my eyes are filling,
To see the day that ſhall nor in its flight
Fulfil for me one wiſh, not one, but killing
Every presentiment of zeſt
With wayward ſkepticism, chases
The fair creations from my breaſt
With all life's thousand cold grimaces.
And when at night I ſtretch me on my bed
And darkness spreads its ſhadow o'er me;
No reſt comes then anigh my weary head,
Wild dreams and spectres dance before me.
The God who dwells within my soul
Can heave its depths at any hour;
Who holds o'er all my faculties control
Has o’er the outer world no power;
Exiſtence lies a load upon my breaſt,
Life is a curse and death a long’d-for reſt.
Mephiſtopheles. And yet death never proves a
wholly welcome gueſt.
Fauft. O bleſt! for whom, when victory's joy-
fire blazes,
Death round his brow the bloody laurel windeth,
80
FAUST.
TS
Whom, weary with the dance's mazes,
He on a maiden's bosom findeth.
O that, beneath the exalted spirit's power,
I had expired, in rapture sinking!
Mephiſtopheles. And yet I knew one, in a mid-
night hour,
Who a brown liquid fhrank from drinking.
Fauft. Eaves-dropping seems a favorite game
with thee.
Mephiſtopheles. Omniscient am I not; yet much
is known to me.
Fauft. Since that sweet tone, with fond appealing,
Drew me from witchcraft's horrid maze,
And woke the lingering childlike feeling
With harmonies of happier days;
My curse on all the mock-creations
That weave their spell around the soul,
And bind it with their incantations
And orgies to this wretched hole!
Accursed be the high opinion
Hugged by the self-exalting mind!
Accursed all the dream-dominion
That makes the dazzled senses blind!
Curs’d be each vision that befools us,
Of fame, outlaſting earthly life!
Curs'd all that, as possession, rules us,
As house and barn, as child and wife !
Accurs'd be mammon, when with treasure
FAUST.
81
He fires our hearts for deeds of might,
When, for a dream of idle pleasure,
He makes our pillow smooth and light!
Curs'd be the grape-vine’s balsam-juices !
On love's high grace my curses fall!
On faith! On hope that man seduces,
On patience laſt, not leaſt, of all !
Choir of spirits. Invisible.] Woe! Woe!
Thou haſt ground it to duſt,
The beautiful world,
With mighty fift;
To ruins 'tis hurled;
A demi-god’s blow hath done it!
A moment we look upon it,
Then carry (sad duty!)
The fragments over into nothingness,
With tears unavailing
Bewailing
All the departed beauty.
Lordlier
Than all sons of men,
Proudlier
Build it again,
Build it up in thy breaſt anew!
A freſh career pursue,
Before thée
A clearer view,
And, from the Empyréan,
82
FAUST.
A new-born Pæan
Shall greet thee, too!
Mephiſtopheles. Be pleased to admire
My juvenile choir !
Hear how they counsel in manly measure
Action and pleasure !
Out into life,
Its joy and ſtrife,
Away from this lonely hole,
Where senses and soul
Rot in ftagnation,
Calls thee their high invitation.
Give over toying with thy sorrow
Which like a vulture feeds upon thy heart;
Thou ſhalt, in the worſt company, to-morrow
Feel that with men a man thou art.
Yet I do not exactly intend
Among the canaille to plant thee.
I'm none of your magnates, I grant thee;
Yet if thou art willing, my friend,
Through life to jog on beside me,
Thy pleasure in all things ſhall guide me,
To thee will I bindine,
A friend thou ſhalt find me,
And, e’en to the grave,
Shalt make me thy servant, make me thy ſlave!
Fauft. And in return what service ſhall I render?
FAUST.
83
Mephiſtopheles. There's ample grace—no hurry,
not the leaſt.
Fauft. No, no, the devil is an egotiſt,
And does not easily “for God's sake” tender
That which a neighbor may assiſt.
Speak plainly the conditions, come!
''Tis dangerous taking such a servant home.
Mephiſtopheles. I to thy service here agree to bind
me,
To run and never reſt at call of thee;
When over yonder thou ſhalt find me,
Then thou ſhalt do as much for me.
Fauft. I care not much what's over yonder :
When thou haſt knocked this world asunder,
Come if it will the other may !
Up from this earth my pleasures all are ſtreaming,
Down on my woes this earthly sun is beaming ;
Let me but end this fit of dreaming,
Then come what will, I've nought to say.
I'll hear no more of barren wonder
If in that world they hate and love,
And whether in that future yonder
There's a Below and an Above.
Mephiſtopheles. In such a mood thou well mayſt
venture.
Bind thyself to me, and by this indenture
Thou ſhalt enjoy with reliſh keen
Fruits of my arts that man had never seen.
84
FAUST.
Fauſt. And what haſt thou to give, poor devil?
Was e'er a human mind, upon its lofty level,
Conceived of by the like of thee?
Yet haſt thou food that brings satiety,
Not satisfaction ; gold that reſtlessly,
Like quicksilver, melts down within
The hands; a game in which men never win;
A maid that, hanging on my breaſt,
Ogles a neighbor with her wanton glances;
Of fame the glorious godlike zeſt,
That like a ſhort-lived meteor dances
Show me the fruit that, ere it's plucked, will rot,
And trees from which new green is daily peeping!
Mephiſtopheles. Such a requirement scares me not;
Such treasures have I in my keeping.
Yet ſhall there also come a time, good friend,
When we may feaſt on good things at our leisure.
Fauſt. If e’er I lie content upon a lounge of
pleasure-
Then let there be of me an end !
When thou with flattery canſt cajole me,
Till I self-satisfied ſhall be,
When thou with pleasure canſt befool me,
Be that the laſt of days for me!
I lay the wager !
Mephiſtopheles. Done!
Fauſt. And heartily!
Whenever to the passing hour
FAUST.
I cry: O ſtay! thou art so fair !
To chain me down I give thee power
To the black bottom of despair !
Then let my knell no longer linger,
Then from my service thou art free,
Fall from the clock the index-finger,
Be time all over, then, for me!
Mephiſtopheles. Think well, for we ſhall hold
you to the letter.
Fauſt. Full right to that juſt now I gave;
I spoke not as an idle braggart better.
Henceforward I remain a flave,
What care I who puts on the fetter?
Mephiſtopheles. I ſhall this very day, at Doctor's-
feaſt, 16
My bounden service duly pay thee.
But one thing -For insurance' sake, I pray thee,
Grant me a line or two, at leaſt.
Fauſt. Pedant! will writing gain thy faith, alone ?
In all thy life, no man, nor man's word haft thou
known?
Is’t not enough that I the fatal word
That passes on my future days have spoken?
The world-ſtream raves and ruſhes (haft not heard ?)
And ſhall a promise hold, unbroken?
Yet this delusion haunts the human breaſt,
Who from his soul its roots would sever?
Thrice happy in whose heart pure truth finds reſt,
86
FAUST.
No sacrifice ſhall he repent of ever!
But from a formal, written, sealed atteſt,
As from a spectre, all men ſhrink forever.
The word and spirit die together,
Killed by the sight of wax and leather.
What wilt thou, evil sprite, from me?
Brass, marble, parchment, paper, ſhall it be?
Shall I subscribe with pencil, pen or graver ?
Among them all thy choice is free.
Mephiſtopheles. This rhetoric of thine to me
Hath a somewhat bombaſtic savor.
Any small scrap of paper's good.
Thy signature will need a single drop of blood.17
Fauſt. If this will satisfy thy mood,
I will consent thy whim to favor.
Mephiſtopheles. Quite a peculiar juice is blood.
Fauſt. Fear not that I ſhall break this bond; 0,
never!
My promise, rightly underſtood,
Fulfils my nature's whole endeavor.
I've puffed myself too high, I see;
To thy rank only I belong.
The Lord of Spirits scorneth me,
Nature, ſhut up, resents the wrong.
The thread of thought is snapt asunder,
All science to me is a ſtupid blunder.
Let us in sensuality's deep
Quench the passions within us blazing!
FAUST.
87
And, the veil of sorcery raising,
Wake each miracle from its long ſleep!
Plunge we into the billowy dance,
The ruſh and roll of time and chance!
Then may pleasure and diſtress,
Disappointment and success,
Follow each other as faſt as they will;
Man's reſtless activity flouriſhes ſtill.
Mephiſtopheles. No bound or goal is set to you;
Where'er you like to wander sipping,
And catch a tit-bit in your ſkipping,
Eschew all coyness, juſt fall to,
And may you find a good digeſtion !
Fauſt. Now, once for all, pleasure is not the
queſtion. .
I'm sworn to passion's whirl, the agony of bliss,
The lover's hate, the sweets of bitterness.
My heart, no more by pride of science driven,
Shall open wide to let each sorrow enter,
And all the good that to man's race is given,
I will enjoy it to my being's centre,
Through life's whole range, upward and downward
sweeping,
Their weal and woe upon my bosom heaping,
Thus in my single self their selves all comprehending
And with them in a common ſhipwreck ending.
Mephiſtopheles. O truſt me, who since firſt I fell
from heaven,
88
FAUST.
Have chewed this tough meat many a thousand
year,
No man digeſts the ancient leaven,
No mortal, from the cradle to the bier.
Truſt one of us—the whole creation
To God alone belongs by right;
He has in endless day his habitation,
Us He hath made for utter night,
You for alternate dark and light.
Fauſt. But then I will!
Mephiſtopheles. Now that's worth hearing!
But one thing haunts me, the old song,
That time is ſhort and art is long.
You need some ſlight advice, I'm fearing.
Take to you one of the poet-feather,
Let the gentleman's thought, far-sweeping,
Bring all the nobleſt traits together,
On your one crown their honors heaping,
The lion's mood
The ſtag's rapidity,
The fiery blood of Italy,
The Northman's hardihood.
Bid him teach thee the art of combining
Greatness of soul with fly designing,
And how, with warm and youthful passion,
To fall in love by plan and faſhion.
Should like, myself, to come across ’m,
Would name him Mr. Microcosm.
i
FAUST.
89
Fauſt. What am I then? if that for which my
heart
Yearns with invincible endeavor,
The crown of man, muſt hang unreached forever?
Mephiſtopheles. Thou art at laft-juſt what thou
art.
Pile perukes on thy head whose curls cannot be
counted,
On yard-high buſkins let thy feet be mounted,
Still thou art only what thou art.
Fauſt. Yes, I have vainly, let me not deny
- it,
Of human learning ransacked all the ſtores,
And when, at laſt, I set me down in quiet,
There guſhes up within no new-born force;
I am not by a hair's-breadth higher,
Am to the Infinite no nigher.
Mephiſtopheles. My worthy sir, you see the matter
As people generally see;
But we muſt learn to take things better,
Before life pleasures wholly fee.
The deuce! thy head and all that's in it,
Hands, feet and are thine;
What I enjoy with zeſt each minute,
Is surely not the less mine?
If I've six horses in my span,
Is it not mine, their every power?
I fly along as an undoubted man,
90
FAUST.
On four and twenty legs the road I scour.
Cheer up, then! let all thinking be,
And out into the world with me!
I tell thee, friend, a speculating churl
Is like a beaſt, some evil spirit chases
Along a barren heath in one perpetual whirl,
While round about lie fair, green paſturing places.
Fauſt. But how ſhall we begin?
Mephiſtopheles. We sally forth e’en now.
What martyrdom endureſt thou!
What kind of life is this to be living,
Ennui to thyself and youngſters giving ?
Let Neighbor Belly that way go!
To ſtay here threſhing ſtraw why car'ſt thou ?
The beſt that thou canſt think and know
To tell the boys not for the whole world dar'ſt thou.
E'en now I hear one in the entry.
Fauſt. I have no heart the youth to see.
Mephiſtopheles. The poor boy waits there like a
sentry,
He ſhall not want a word from me.
Come, give me, now, thy robe and bonnet;
This maſk will suit me charmingly.
[He puts them on.]
Now for my wit-rely upon it!
'Twill take but fifteen minutes, I am sure.
Meanwhile prepare thyself to make the pleasant tour!
[Exit Faust.
FAUST.
Mephiſtopheles [in Faust's long gown). Only de-
spise all human wit and lore,
The higheſt fights that thought can soar-
Let but the lying spirit blind thee,
And with his spells of witchcraft bind thee,
Into my snare the victim creeps.
To him has deſtiny a spirit given,
That unreſtrainedly ſtill onward sweeps,
To scale the ſkies long since hath ſtriven,
And all earth's pleasures overleaps.
He ſhall through life’s wild scenes be driven,
And through its flat unmeaningness,
I'll make him writhe and ſtare and ſtiffen,
And midſt all sensual excess,
His fevered lips, with thirſt all parched and riven,
Insatiably ſhall haunt refreſhment's brink;
And had he not, himself, his soul to Satan given,
Still muſt he to perdition sink!
[Enter A SCHOLAR.]
Scholar. I have but lately left my home,
And with profound submission come,
To hold with one some conversation
Whom all men name with veneration.
Mephiſtopheles. Your courtesy greatly flatters me!
A man like many another you see.
Have you made any applications elsewhere?
Scholar. Let me, I pray, your teachings ſhare!
With all good dispositions I come,
92
FAUST.
A freſh young blood and money some;
My mother would hardly hear of my going;
But I long to learn here something worth knowing.
Mephiſtopheles. You've come to the very place
for it, then.
Scholar. Sincerely, could wiſh I were off again :
My soul already has grown quite weary
Of walls and halls, so dark and dreary,
The narrowness oppresses me.
One sees no green thing, not a tree.
On the lecture-seats, I know not what ails me,
Sight, hearing, thinking, every thing fails me.
Mephiſtopheles. 'Tis all in use, we daily see.
The child takes not the mother's breaſt
In the firſt inſtance willingly,
But soon it feeds itself with zeſt.
So you at wisdom's breaſt your pleasure
Will daily find in growing measure.
Scholar. I'll hang upon her neck, a raptured
wooer,
But only tell me, who ſhall lead me to her?
Mephiſtopheles. Ere you go further, give your
views
As to which faculty you choose?
Scholar. To be right learn’d I've long desired,
And of the natural world aspired
To have a perfect comprehension
In this and in the heavenly sphere.
FAUST.
93
Mephiſtopheles. I see you're on the right track
here;
But you'll have to give undivided attention.
Scholar. My heart and soul in the work'll be
found;
Only, of course, it would give me pleasure,
When summer holidays come round,
To have for amusement a little leisure.
Mephiſtopheles. Use well the precious time, it
ſlips away so,
Yet method gains you time, if I may say so.
I counsel you therefore, my worthy friend,
The logical lectures firſt to attend.
Then is your mind well trained and cased
In Spaniſh boots, 18 all snugly laced,
So that henceforth it can creep ahead
On the road of thought with a cautious tread,
And not at random ſhoot and ſtrike,
Zig-zagging Jack-o'-lanthorn-like.
Then will you many a day be taught
That what you once to do had thought
Like eating and drinking, extempore,
Requires the rule of one, two, three.
It is, to be sure, with the fabric of thought,
As with the chef d'oeuvre by weavers wrought,
Where a thousand threads one treadlc plies,
Backward and forward the ſhuttles keep going,
Invisibly the threads keep flowing,
94
FAUST.
One ſtroke a thousand faſtenings ties:
Comes the philosopher and cries :
I'll ſhow you, it could not be otherwise :
The firſt being so, the second so,
The third and fourth muſt of course be so;
And were not the firſt and second, you see,
The third and fourth could never be.
The scholars everywhere call this clever,
But none have yet become weavers ever.
Whoever will know a live thing and expound it,
Firſt kills out the spirit it had when he found it;
And then the parts are all in his hand,
Minus only the spiritual band!
Encheiresin naturæ's 19 the chemical name,
By which dunces themselves unwittingly ſhame.
Scholar. Cannot entirely comprehend you.
Mephiſtopheles. Better success will ſhortly attend
you,
When you learn to analyze all creation
And give it a proper classification.
Scholar. I feel as confused by all you've said,
As if ’twere a mill-wheel going round in my head!
Mephiſtopheles. The next thing moſt important
to mention,
Metaphysics will claim your attention!
There see that you can clearly explain
What fits not into the human brain :
For that which will not go into the head,
A pompous word will ſtand you in ſtead.
FAUST.
But, this half-year, at leaſt, observe
From regularity never to swerve.
You'll have five lectures every day;
Be in at the ſtroke of the bell I pray!
And well prepared in every part;
Study each paragraph by heart,
So that you scarce may need to look
To see that he says no more than’s in the book;
· And when he dictates, be at your poſt,
As if you wrote for the Holy Ghoſt!
Scholar. That caution is unnecessary!
I know it profits one a sight!
For what one has in black and white,
He to his home can safely carry.
Mephiſtopheles. But choose some faculty, I pray!
Scholar. I feel a ſtrong dislike to try the legal
college.
: Mephiſtopheles. I cannot blame you much, I muſt
acknowledge.
I know how this profession ſtands to-day.
Statutes and laws through all the ages
Like a transmitted malady you trace;
In every generation ſtill it rages
And softly creeps from place to place.
Reason is nonsense, right an impudent suggeſtion ;
Alas for thee, that thou a grandson art!
Of inborn law in which each man has part,
Of that, unfortunately, there's no queſtion.
.90
FAUST.
Scholar. My loathing grows beneath your speech.
happy he whom you ſhall teach!
To try theology I'm almoſt minded.
Mephiſtopheles. I muſt not let you by zeal be
blinded.
This is a science through whose field
Nine out of ten in the wrong road will blunder,
And in it so much poison lies concealed,
That ſhould you this mistake for physic, no great
wonder.
Here also it were beſt, if only one you heard
And swore to that one maſter's word.
Upon the whole—words only heed you!
These through the temple door will lead you
Safe to the ſhrine of certainty.
Scholar. Yet in the word a thought muſt surely be.
Mephiſtopheles. All right! But one muſt not per-
plex himself about it;
For juſt where one muſt go without it,
The word comes in, a friend in need, to thee.
With words can one dispute moſt featly,
With words build up a syſtem neatly,
In words thy faith may ſtand unſhaken,
From words there can be no iota taken.
Scholar. Forgive my keeping you with many
queſtions,
Yet muſt I trouble you once more,
Will you not give me, on the score
FAUST.
97
Of medicine, some brief suggeſtions ?
Three years are a ſhort time, O God!
And then the field is quite too broad.
If one had only before his nose
Something else as a hint to follow !
Mephiſtopheles [aside). I'm heartily tired of this
dry prose,
Muſt play the devil again out hollow.
[Aloud.]
The healing art is quickly comprehended;
Through great and little world you look abroad,
And let it wag, when all is ended,
As pleases God.
Vain is it that your science sweeps the ſkies,
Each, after all, learns only what he can;
Who grasps the moment as it flies
He is the real man.
Your person somewhat takes the eye,
Boldness you'll find an easy science,
And if you on yourself rely,
Others on you will place reliance.
In the women's good graces seek firſt to be seated ;
Their oh's and ah's, well known of old,
So thousand-fold,
Are all from a single point to be treated;
Be decently modeſt and then with ease
You may get the blind side of them when you please.
A title, firſt, their confidence muſt waken,
98
FAUST.
That your art many another art transcends,
Then may you, lucky man, on all those trifles
reckon
For which another years of groping spends :
Know how to press the little pulse that dances,
And fearlessly, with fly and fiery glances,
Clasp the dear creatures round the waiſt
To see how tightly they are laced.
Scholar. This promises! One loves the How
and Where to see!
Mephiſtopheles. Gray, worthy friend, is all your
theory
And green the golden tree of life.
Scholar.
I seem,
I swear to you, like one who walks in dream.
Might I another time, without encroaching,
Hear you the deepeſt things of wisdom broaching ?
Mephiſtopheles. So far as I have power, you may.
Scholar. I cannot tear myself away,
Till I to you my album have presented.
Grant me one line and I'm contented!
Mephiſtopheles. With pleasure.
[Writes and returns it.
Scholar [reads]. Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum
et malum,
[Shuts it reverently, and bows himself out.
Mephiſtopheles. Let but the brave old saw and
my aunt, the serpent, guide thee,
FAUST.
99
And, with thy likeness to God, ſhall woe one day
betide thee!
Fauſt [enters]. Which way now ſhall we go?
Mephiſtopheles. Which way it pleases thee.
The little world and then the great we see.
O with what gain, as well as pleasure,
Wilt thou the rollicking cursus measure !
Fauſt. I fear the easy life and free
With my long beard will scarce agree...
'Tis vain for me to think of succeeding,
I never could learn what is called good-breeding.
In the presence of others I feel so small ;
I never can be at my ease at all.
Mephiſtopheles. Dear friend, vain trouble to your-
self you're giving ;
Whence once you truſt yourself, you know the art
of living.
Fauſt. But how are we to ſtart, I pray ?
Where are thy servants, coach and horses ?
Mephiſtopheles. We spread the mantle, and away
It bears us on our airy courses.
But, on this bold excursion, thou
Muſt take no great portmanteau now.
A little oxygen, which I will soon make ready,
From earth uplifts us, quick and ſteady.
And if we're light, we'll soon surmount the sphere ;
I give thee hearty joy in this thy new career.
100
FAUST.
AUERBACH'S CELLAR IN LEIPSIC. 20
Carousal of Folly Companions.
Frosch.21 Will nobody drink? Stop those grimaces!
I'll teach you how to be cutting your faces!
Laugh out! You're like wet ſtraw to-day,
And blaze, at other times, like dry hay.
Brander. 'Tis all your fault; no food for fun you
bring,
Not annonsensical nor naſty thing.
Frosch [daſhes a glass of wine over his head]. There
you have both!
Brander. You hog twice o’er!
Frosch. You wanted it, what would you more?
Siebel. Out of the door with them that brawl!
Strike up a round; swill, ſhout there, one and all!
Wake up! Hurra!
Altmayer. Woe's me, I'm loſt! Bring cotton!
The rascal splits my ear-drum. :
Siebel.
Only ſhout on!
When all the arches ring and yell,
Then does the base make felt its true ground-swell.
Frosch. That's right, juſt throw him out, who
undertakes to fret!
A! tara! lara da!
Altmayer. A! tara! lara da!
Frosch. Our whiſtles all are wet.
FAUST.
ΙΟΙ
101
[Sings.]
The dear old holy Romiſh realm,
What holds it ſtill together?
Brander. A sorry song! Fie! a political song!
A tiresome song! Thank God each morning there-
S for,
That you have not the Romiſh realm to care for!
At leaſt I count it a great gain that He
Kaiser nor chancellor has made of me.
E’en we can't do without a head, however;
however:
-
To choose a pope let us endeavour.
You know what qualification throws
The caſting vote and the true man ſhows.
Frosch [sings]. Lady Nightingale, upward soar,
Greet me my darling ten thousand times o’er.
Siebel. No greetings to that girl! Who does so,
I resent it!
Frosch. A greeting and a kiss! And you will not
prevent it!
· [Sings.]
Draw the bolts! the night is clear.
Draw the bolts! Love watches near.
Close the bolts ! the dawn is here.
Siebel. Ay, sing away and praise and glorify your :
dear!
Soon I ſhall have my time for laughter.
The jade has jilted me, and will you too hereafter;
May Kobold, for a lover, be her luck!
D
102
FAUST.
At night may he upon the cross-way meet her ;
Or, coming from the Blocksberg, some old buck
May, as he gallops by, a good-night bleat her!
A fellow fine of real fleſh and blood
Is for the wench a deal too good.
She'll get from me but one love-token,
That is to have her window broken!
Brander [ſtriking on the table]. Attend ! attend!
To me give ear!
I know what's life, ye gents, confess it:
We've lovesick people sitting near,
And it is proper they ſhould hear
A good-night ſtrain as well as I can dress it.
Give heed! And hear a bran-new song!
Join in the chorus loud and ſtrong!
[He sings.]
A rat in the cellar had built his neſt,
He daily grew ſleeker and smoother,
He lined his paunch from larder and cheſt,
And was portly as Doctor Luther.
The cook had set him poison one day ;
From that time forward he pined away
As if he had love in his body.
Chorus (ſhouting). As if he had love in his body.
Brander. He raced about with a terrible touse,
From all the puddles went swilling,
He gnawed and he scratched all over the house,
His pain there was no ſtilling ;
FAUST.
103
He made full many a jump of diſtress,
And soon the poor beaſt got enough, I guess,
As if he had love in his body.
Chorus. As if he had love in his body.
Brander. With pain he ran, in open day,
Right up into the kitchen;
He fell on the hearth and there he lay
Gasping and moaning and twitchin'.
Then laughed the poisoner: “He! he! he!
He's piping on the laſt hole,” said ſhe,
“As if he had love in his body.”
Chorus. As if he had love in his body.
Siebel. Juſt hear now how the ninnies giggle!
That's what I call a genuine art,
To make poor rats with poison wriggle!
Brander. You take their case so much to heart?
Altmayer. The bald pate and the butter-belly!
The sad tale makes him mild and tame;
He sees in the swollen rat, poor fellow!
His own true likeness set in a frame.
Faust and MEPHISTOPHELES.
Mephiſtopheles. Now, firſt of all, ’tis necessary
To ſhow you people making merry,
That you may see how lightly life can run.
Each day to this small folk's a feaſt of fun;
Not over-witty, self-contented,
Still round and round in circle-dance they whirl,
As with their tails young kittens twirl.
11
104
FAUST.
If with no headache they're tormented,
Nor dunned by landlord for his pay,
They're careless, unconcerned, and gay.
Brander. They're freſh from travel, one might
know it,
Their air and manner plainly ſhow it ;
They came here not an hour ago.
Frosch. Thou verily art right! My Leipsic well
I know!
Paris in small it is, and cultivates its people.
Siebel. What do the ſtrangers seem to thee?
Frosch. Juſt let me go! When wine our friend-
ſhip mellows,
Easy as drawing a child's tooth ’twill be
To worm their secrets out of these two fellows.
They're of a noble house, I dare to swear,
They have a proud and discontented air.
Brander. They're mountebanks, I'll bet a dol-
lar!
Altmayer. Perhaps.
Frosch. I'll smoke them, mark you that!
Mephiſtopheles [to Fauſt]. These people never
smell the old rat,
E’en when he has them by the collar.
Fauſt. Fair greeting to you, sirs!
Siebel. The same, and thanks to boot.
[In a low tone, taking a side look at MEPHISTOPHELES.]
Why has the churl one halting foot?
FAUST.
105
Mephiſtopheles. With your permission, ſhall we
make one party ?
Inſtead of a good drink, which get here no one can,
Good company muſt make us hearty.
Altmayer. You seem a very faſtidious man.
Frosch. I think you spent some time at Rippach22
lately?
You supped with Miſter Hans not long since, I dare
say?
Mephiſtopheles. We passed him on the road to-
day!
Fine man! it grieved us parting with him, greatly.
He'd much to say to us about his cousins,
And sent to each, through us, his compliments by
dozens.
[He bows to Frosch.]
Altmayer [softly]. You've got it there! he takes!
Siebel. The chap don't want for wit!
Frosch. I'll have him next time, wait a bit!
Mephiſtopheles. If I mistook not, didn't we hear
Some well-trained voices chorus singing ?
'Faith, music muſt sound finely here,
From all these echoing arches ringing!
Frosch. You are perhaps a connoisseur ?
Mephiſtopheles. O no! my powers are small, I'm
but an amateur..
Altmayer. Give us a song!
Mephiſtopheles. As many's you desire.
106
FAUST.
Mephiſtop hack from Spartis
and lyre.
Siebel. But let it be a bran-new ſtrain!
Mephiſtopheles. No fear of that! We've juſt
come back from Spain,
The lovely land of wine and song and lyre.
[Sings.]
There was a king, right ſtately,
Who had a great, big flea,-
Frosch. Hear him! A fea! D'ye take there,
boys? A flea!
I call that genteel company.
Mephiſtopheles [resumes]. There was a king, right
stately,
Who had a great, big flea,
And loved him very greatly,
As if his own son were he.
He called the knight of stitches ;
The tailor came straightway :
Ho! measure the youngster for breeches,
And make him a coat to-day!
Brander. But don't forget to charge the knight
of stitches,
The measure carefully to take,
And, as he loves his precious neck,
To leave no wrinkles in the breeches.
Mephiſtopheles. In silk and velvet splendid
The creature now was drest,
To his coat were ribbons appended,
A cross was on his breast.
FAUST.
107
He had a great star on his collar,
Was a minister, in ſhort;
And his relatives, greater and smaller,
Became great people at court.
The lords and ladies of honor
Fared worse than if they were hung,
The queen, ſhe got them upon her,
And all were bitten and stung,
And did not dare to attack them,
Nor scratch, but let them stick.
We choke them and we crack them
The moment we feel one prick.
Chorus [loud). We choke 'em and we crack 'em
The moment we feel one prick.
Frosch. Bravo! Bravo! That was fine!
Siebel. So ſhall each flea his life resign!
Brander. Point your fingers and nip them fine!
Altmayer. Hurra for Liberty! Hurra for Wine!
Mephiſtopheles. I'd pledge the goddess, too, to
ſhow how high I set her,
Right gladly, if your wines were just a trifle better.
Siebel. Don't say that thing again, you fretter!
Mephiſtopheles. Did I not fear the landlord to
affront;
I'd ſhow these worthy guests this minute
What kind of stuff our stock has in it.
Siebel. Just bring it on! I'll bear the brunt.
108
FAUST.
Frosch. Give us a brimming glass, our praise
ſhall then be ample,
But don't dole out too small a sample;
For if I'm to judge and criticize,
I need a good mouthful to make me wise.
Altmayer [softly). They're from the Rhine, as
near as I can make it.
Mephistopheles. Bring us a gimlet here!
Brander. What ſhall be done with that?
You've not the caſks before the door, I take it?
Altmayer. The landlord's tool-chest there is easily
got at.
Mephistopheles (takes the gimlet] (to Frosch). What
will you have? It costs but speaking.
Frosch. How do you mean? Have you so many
kinds ?
Mephistopheles. Enough to suit all sorts of minds.
Altmayer. Aha! old sot, your lips already licking!
Frosch. Well, then! if I must choose, let Rhine-
wine fill my beaker,
Our fatherland supplies the noblest liquor.
MEPHISTOPHELES
[boring a hole in the rim of the table near the place where
Frosch sits].
Get us a little wax right off to make the stoppers!
Altmayer. Ah, these are jugglers' tricks, and
whappers !
Mephistopheles (to Brander]. And you ?
FAUST.
109
Brander. Champaigne's the wine for me,
But then right sparkling it must be!
[Mephistopheles bores; meanwhile one of them has made the
wax-stoppers, and stopped the holes.]
Brander. Hankerings for foreign things will some-
times haunt you,
The good so far one often finds ;
Your real German man can't bear the French, I
grant you,
And yet will gladly drink their wines.
Siebel [while Mephiſtopheles approaches his seat]. I
don't like sour, it sets my mouth awry,
Let mine have real sweetness in it!
Mephiſtopheles [bores]. Well, you ſhall have Tokay
this minute.
Altmayer. No, sirs, just look me in the eye!
I see through this, 'tis what the chaps call smoking.
Mephiſtopheles. Come now! That would be se-
rious joking,
To make so free with worthy men.
But quickly now! Speak out again!
With what description can I serve you?
Altmayer. Wait not to aſk; with any, then.
[After all the holes are bored and stopped]
Mephiſtopheles (with singular gestures). From the
vine-stock grapes we pluck;
Horns grow on the buck;
Wine is juicy, the wooden table,
IIO.
FAUST.
Y
Like wooden vines, to give wine is able.
An eye for nature's depths receive!
Here is a miracle, only believe! .
Now draw the plugs and drink your fill!
ALL
[drawing the stoppers, and catching each in his glass the wine
he had desired].
Sweet spring, that yields us what we will !
Mephiſtopheles. Only be careful not a drop to
spill!
[They drink repeatedly.]
All [sing). We're happy all as cannibals,
Five hundred hogs together.
Mephiſtopheles. Look at them now, they're happy
as can be!
Fauſt. To go would suit my inclination.
Mephiſtopheles. But first give heed, their bestiality
Will make a glorious demonstration.
SIEBEL
[drinks carelessly; the wine is spilt upon the ground and turns
to flame].
Help! Fire! Ho! Help! The flames of hell!
Mephiſtopheles [conjuring the flame]. Peace, friendly
element, be still !
[To the Toper.]
This time 'twas but a drop of fire from purgatory.
Siebel. What does this mean? Wait there, or
you'll be sorry!
It seems you do not know us well.
FAUST.
III
Frosch. Not twice, in this way, will it do to joke
us!
Altmayer. I vote, we give him leave himself here
scarce to make.
Siebel. What, sir! How dare you undertake
To carry on here your old hocus-pocus ?
Mephiſtopheles. Be still, old wine-caſk!
Siebel.
Broomstick, you!
Insult to injury add ? Confound you!
Brander. Stop there! Or blows ſhall rain down
round you!
ALTMAYER
[draws a stopper out of the table ; fire flies at him].
I burn! I burn!
Siebel. Foul sorcery! Shame!
Lay on the rascal is fair game!
[They draw their knives and rush at Mephistopheles.]
Mephiſtopheles (with a serious mien). Word and
ſhape of air !
Change place, new meaning wear!
Be here—and there!
[They stand astounded and look at each other.]
Altmayer. Where am I? What a charming land!
Frosch. Vine hills! My eyes! Is’t true?
Siebel. And grapes, too, close at hand!
Brander. Beneath this green see what a stem is
growing!
See what a bunch of grapes is glowing !
II2
FAUST.
[He seizes Siebel by the nose. The rest do the same to each
other and raise their knives.]
Mephiſtopheles [as above). Loose, Error, from their
eyes the band!
How Satan plays his tricks, you need not now be told
of.
[He vanishes with Faust, the companions start back from each
other.]
Siebel. What ails me ?
Altmayer. How?
Frosch. Was that thy nose, friend, I had hold of?
Brander [to Siebel]. And I have thine, too, in my
hand!
Altmayer. O what a ſhock! through all my limbs
'tis crawling!
Get me a chair, be quick, I'm falling!
Frosch. No, say what was the real case ?
Siebel. O ſhow me where the churl is hiding!
Alive he ſhall not leave the place!
Altmayer. Out through the cellar-door I saw him
riding-
Upon a caſk--he went full chase.-
Heavy as lead my feet are growing.
[Turning towards the table.]
My! If the wine ſhould yet be flowing.
Siebel. 'Twas all deception and moonſhine.
Frosch. Yet I was sure I did drink wine.
Brander. But how about the bunches, brother?
Altmayer. After such miracles, I'll doubt no other!
FAUST.
113
WITCHES' KITCHEN.
[On a low hearth stands a great kettle over the fire. In the
smoke, which rises from it, are seen various forms. A
female monkey 23 sits by the kettle and skims it, and takes care
that it does not run over. The male monkey with the young
ones sits close by, warming himself. Walls and ceiling are
adorned with the most singular witch-household stuff.]
Faust. Mephistopheles.
Fauſt. Would that this vile witch-business were
well over!
Doſt promise me I ſhall recover
In this hodge-podge of craziness?
From an old hag do I advice require ?
And will this filthy cooked-up mess
My youth by thirty years bring nigher ?
Woe's me, if that's the beſt you know!
Already hope is from my bosom baniſhed.
Has not a noble mind found long ago
Some balsam to reſtore a youth that's vaniſhed ?
Mephiſtopheles. My friend, again thou speakeſt a
wise thought!
I know a natural way to make thee young,-none
apter!
But in another book it muſt be sought,
And is a quite peculiar chapter.
Fauſt. I beg to know it.
114
FAUST.
Mephiſtopheles. Well ! here's one that needs no
pay,
No help of physic, nor enchanting.
Out to the fields without delay,
And take to hacking, digging, planting ;
Run the same round from day to day,
A treadmill-life, contented, leading,
With simple fare both mind and body feeding,
Live with the beaſt as beaſt, nor count it robbery
Shouldſt thou manure, thyself, the field thou reapeſt;
Follow this course and, truſt to me,
For eighty years thy youth thou keepeſt!
Fauſt. I am not used to that, I ne'er could bring
me to it,
To wield the spade, I could not do it.
The narrow life befits me not at all.
Mephiſtopheles. So muſt we on the witch, then,
call.
Fauſt. But why juſt that old hag? Canſt thou
Not brew thyself the needful liquor ?
Mephiſtopheles. That were a pretty paſtime now!
I'd build about a thousand bridges quicker.
Science and art alone won't do,
The work will call for patience, too ;
Coſts a ſtill spirit years of occupation :
Time, only, ſtrengthens the fine fermentation.
To tell each thing that forms a part
Would sound to thee like wildeſt fable !
FAUST.
115
The devil indeed has taught the art;
To make it not the devil is able.
[Espying the animals.]
See, what a genteel breed we here parade!
This is the house-boy! that's the maid!
[To the animals.]
Where's the old lady gone a mousing?
The animals. Carousing ;
Out ſhe went
By the chimney-vent!
Mephiſtopheles. How long does ſhe spend in gad-
ding and ſtorming ?
The animals. While we are giving our paws a
warming.
Mephiſtopheles [to Fauſt]. How do you find the
dainty creatures ?
Fauſt.' Disguſting as I ever chanced to see!
Mephiſtopheles. No! a discourse like this to me,
I own, is one of life's moſt pleasant features;
[To the animals.]
Say, cursed dolls, that sweat, there, toiling!
What are you twirling with the spoon?
Animals. A common beggar-soup we're boiling.
Mephiſtopheles. You'll have a run of cuſtom soon.
THE HE-MONKEY
[Comes along and fawns on Mephistopheles).
O Aing up the dice,
Make me rich in a trice,
116
FAUST.
Turn fortune's wheel over !
My lot is right bad,
If money I had,
My wits would recover.
Mephiſtopheles. The monkey'd be as merry as
a cricket,
Would somebody give him a lottery-ticket!
[Meanwhile the young monkeys have been playing with a great
ball, which they roll backward and forward.]
The monkey. The world's the ball ;
See’t rise and fall,
Its roll you follow ;
Like glass it rings :
Both, brittle things!
Within ’tis hollow.
There it ſhines clear,
And brighter here, -
I live-by ’Pollo
Dear son, I pray,
Keep hands away!
Thou ſhalt fall so!
'Tis made of clay,
Pots are, also.
Mephiſtopheles. What means the sieve ?
The monkey ſtakes it down). Wert thou a thief,
'Twould ſhow the thief and ſhame him.
[Runs to his mate and makes her look through.]
Look through the sieve !
FAUST,
117
Discern'ſt thou the thief,
And dareſt not name him?
Mephiſtopheles [approaching the fire]. And what's
this pot?
The monkeys. The dunce! I'll be ſhot!
He knows not the pot,
He knows not the kettle!
Mephiſtopheles. Impertinence! Huſh!
The monkey. Here, take you the bruſh,
And sit on the settle!
[He forces MEPHISTOPHELES to sit down.]
Faust
[who all this time has been standing before a looking-glass, now
approaching and now receding from it].
What do I see? What heavenly face
Doth, in this magic glass, enchant me!
O love, in mercy, now, thy swifteſt pinions grant me!
And bear me to her field of space!
Ah, if I seek to approach what doth so haunt me,
If from this spot I dare to ſtir,
Dimly as through a miſt I gaze on her!
The lovelieſt vision of a woman!
Such lovely woman can there be ?
Muſt I in these reposing limbs naught human,
But of all heavens the fineſt essence see?
Was such a thing on earth seen ever?
Mephiſtopheles. Why, when you see a God six
days in hard work spend,
118
FAUST.
And then cry bravo at the end,
Of course you look for something clever.
Look now thy fill; I have for thee
Juſt such a jewel, and will lead thee to her;
And happy, whose good fortune it ſhall be,
To bear her home, a prospered wooer!
[Faust keeps on looking into the mirror. MEPHISTOPHELES
stretching himself out on the settle and playing with the brush,
continues speaking.]
Here sit I like a king upon his throne,
The sceptre in my hand, I want the crown alone.
THE ANIMALS
[who up to this time have been going through all sorts of queer
antics with each other, bring MEPHISTOPHELES a crown with
a loud cry].
O do be so good,
With sweat and with blood,
To take it and lime it;
[They go about clumsily with the crown and break it into two
pieces, with which they jump round.]
'Tis done now! We're free!
We speak and we see,
We hear and we rhyme it;
Fauſt facing the mirror). Woe's me! I've al-
moſt loſt my wits.
Mephiſtopheles [pointing to the animals). My head,
too, I confess, is very near to spinning.
The animals. And then if it hits,
FAUST.
119
And every thing fits,
We've thoughts for our winning.
Fauft (as before]. Up to my heart the flame is
flying!
Let us begone—there's danger near !
Mephiſtopheles [in the former position]. Well, this,
at leaſt, there's no denying,
That we have undissembled poets here.
[The kettle, which the she-monkey has hitherto left unwatched,
begins to run over; a great flame breaks out, which roars up
the chimney. The Witch comes riding down through the
flame with a terrible outcry.]
Witch. Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
The damned beaſt! The cursed sow!
Neglected the kettle, scorched the Frau !
The cursed crew!
[Seeing Faust and MephisTOPHELES.]
And who are you?
And what d'ye do?
And what d'ye want?
And who sneaked in?
The fire-plague grim
Shall light on him
In every limb!
[She makes a dive at the kettle with the skimmer and spatters
flames at Faust, MEPHISTOPHELES, and the creatures. These
last whimper.]
I 20
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES
[inverting the brush which he holds in his hand, and striking
among the glasses and pots].
In two! In two!
There lies the brew!
There lies the glass !
This joke muſt pass;
For time-beat, ass!
To thy melody, 'twill do.
[While the Witch starts back full of wrath and horror.]
Skeleton! Scarcecrow! Spectre! Know'ſt thou me,
Thy lord and maſter? What prevents my daſhing
Right in among thy cursed company,
Thyself and all thy monkey spirits smaſhing ?
Has the red waiſtcoat thy respect no more?
Has the cock’s-feather, too, escaped attention ?
Haft never seen this face before ?
My name, perchance, wouldſt have me mention?
The witch. Pardon the rudeness, sir, in me!
But sure no cloven foot I see.
Nor find I your two ravens either.
Mephiſtopheles. I'll let thee off for this once so;
For a long while has passed, full well I know,
Since the laſt time we met together.
The culture, too, which licks the world to ſhape,
The devil himself cannot escape;
The phantom of the North men's thoughts have left
behind them,
FAUST.
I21
Horns, tail, and claws, where now d’ye find them?
And for the foot, with which dispense I nowise can,
"Twould with good circles hurt my ſtanding ;
And so I've worn, some years, like many a fine
young man,
False calves to make me more commanding.
The witch [dancing). O I ſhall lose my wits, I
fear,
Do I, again, see Squire Satan here!
Mephiſtopheles. Woman, the name offends my ear!
The witch. Why so? What has it done to
you?
Mephiſtopheles. It has long since to fable-books
been baniſhed;
But men are none the better for it; true,
The wicked one, but not the wicked ones, has van-
iſhed.
Herr Baron callſt thou me, then all is right and good;
I am a cavalier, like others. Doubt me?
Doubt for a moment of my noble blood ?
See here the family arms I bear about me!
[He makes an indecent gesture.]
The witch [laughs immoderately]. Ha! ha! full
well I know you, sir!
You are the same old rogue you always were!
Mephiſtopheles [to Fauft]. I pray you, carefully
attend,
This is the way to deal with witches, friend.
I 22
FAUST.
V
The witch. Now, gentles, what ſhall I produce?
Mephiſtopheles. A right good glassful of the well-
known juice!
And pray you, let it be the oldeſt ;
Age makes it doubly ſtrong for use.
The witch. Right gladly! Here I have a bottle,
From which, at times, I wet my throttle ;
Which now, not in the ſlighteſt, ſtinks ;
A glass to you I don't mind giving ;
[Softly.]
But if this man, without preparing, drinks,
He has not, well you know, another hour for living.
Mephiſtopheles. 'Tis a good friend of mine, whom
it ſhall ſtraight cheer up;
Thy kitchen's beſt to give him don't delay thee.
Thy ring—thy spell, now, quick, I pray thee,
And give him then a good full cup.
[The WITCH, with strange gestures, draws a circle, and places
singular things in it; meanwhile the glasses begin to ring,
the kettle to sound and make music. Finally, she brings a
great book and places the monkeys in the circle, whom she uses
as a reading-desk and to hold the torches. She beckons Faust
to come to her.]
Fauft [to Mephiſtopheles]. Hold! what will come
of this? These creatures,
These frantic geſtures and distorted features,
And all the crazy, juggling ſtuff,
I've known and loathed it long enough!
FAUST.
123
Mephiſtopheles. Pugh! that is only done to smoke
us;
Don't be so serious, my man!
She muſt, as Doctor, play her hocus pocus
To make the dose work better, that's the plan.
[He constrains Faust to step into the circle.]
THE WITCH
[beginning with great emphasis to declaim out of the book].
Remember then!
Of One make Ten,
The Two let be,
Make even Three,
There's wealth for thee.
The Four pass o'er!
Of Five and Six,
(The witch so speaks,)
Make Seven and Eight,
The thing is ſtraight :
And Nine is One
And Ten is none-
This is the witch's one-time-one! 24
Fauſt. The old hag talks like one delirious.
Mephiſtopheles. There's much more ſtill, no less
myſterious,
I know it well, the whole book sounds juſt so!
I've loſt full many a year in poring o’er it,
For perfect contradiction, you muſt know,
124
FAUST.
A myſtery ſtands, and fools and wise men bow be-
fore it.
The art is old and new, my son.
Men, in all times, by craft and terror,
With One and Three, and Three and One,
For truth have propagated error.
They've gone on gabbling so a thousand years ;
Who on the fools would waſte a minute ?
Man generally thinks, if words he only hears,
Articulated noise muſt have some meaning in it.
The witch [goes on]. Deep wisdom's power
Has, to this hour,
From all the world been hidden!
Whoso thinks not,
To him 'tis brought,
To him it comes unbidden.
Fauſt. What nonsense is ſhe talking here?
My heart is on the point of cracking.
In one great choir I seem to hear
A hundred thousand ninnies clacking.
Mephiſtopheles. Enough, enough, rare Sibyl, sing
US
· These runes no more, thy beverage bring us,
And quickly fill the goblet to the brim;
This drink may by my friend be safely taken:
Full many grades the man can reckon,
Many good swigs have entered him.
FAUST.
125
[The Witch, with many ceremonies, pours the drink into
a cup; as she puts it to FAUST's lips, there rises a light
flame.]
Mephiſtopheles. Down with it! Gulp it down!
'Twill prove
All that thy heart's wild wants desire.
Thou, with the devil, hand and glove, 25
And yet wilt be afraid of fire ?
[The Witch breaks the circle ; Faust steps out.]
Mephiſtopheles. Now briſkly forth! No reſt for
thee!
The witch. Much comfort may the drink afford
you!
Mephiſtopheles [to the witch]. And any favor you
may aſk of me,
I'll gladly on Walpurgis' night accord you.
The witch. Here is a song, which if you some-
times sing,
'Twill ſtir up in your heart a special fire.
Mephiſtopheles [to Fauſt). Only make haſte; and
even ſhouldſt thou tire,
Still follow me; one muſt perspire,
That it may set his nerves all quivering.
I'll teach thee by and bye to prize a noble leisure,
And soon, too, ſhalt thou feel with hearty pleasure,
How busy Cupid ſtirs, and ſhakes his nimble wing.
126
FAUST.
Fauſt. But firſt one look in yonder glass, I pray
thee!
Such beauty I no more may find !
Mephiſtopheles. Nay! in the fleſh thine eyes ſhall
soon display thee
The model of all woman-kind.
[Softly.]
Soon will, when once this drink ſhall heat thee,
In every girl a Helen meet thee!

FAUST.
127
A STREET.
FAUST. MARGARET (passing over].
Fauft. My fair young lady, will it offend her
If I offer my arm and escort to lend her?
Margaret. Am neither lady, nor yet am fair!
Can find my way home without any one's care.
[Disengages herself and exit.]
Fauft. By heavens, but then the child is fair!
I've never seen the like, I swear.
So modeſt is ſhe and so pure,
And somewhat saucy, too, to be sure.
The light of the cheek, the lip's red bloom,
I ſhall never forget to the day of doom !
How ſhe caſt down her lovely eyes,
Deep in my soul imprinted lies;
How ſhe spoke up, so curt and tart,
Ah, that went right to my raviſhed heart!
[Enter MEPHISTOPHELES.]
Fauſt. Hark, thou ſhalt find me a way to address
her!
Mephiſtopheles. Which one?
Fauſt. She juſt went by.
Mephiſtopheles.
What! She?
She came juſt now from her father confessor,
Who from all sins pronounced her free;
I ſtole behind her noiselessly,
La
fom all sins prochef father confessor
128
FAUST.
'Tis an innocent thing, who, for nothing at all,
Muſt go to the confessional;
O’er such as ſhe no power I hold!
Fauſt. But then ſhe’s over fourteen years old.
Mephiſtopheles. Thou speak’ſt exactly like Jack
Rake,
Who every fair flower his own would make."
And thinks there can be no favor nor fame,
But one may ſtraightway pluck the same.
But 'twill not always do, we see.
Fauft. My worthy Maſter Gravity,
Let not a word of the Law be spoken!
One thing be clearly underſtood,
Unless I clasp the sweet, young blood
This night in my arms—then, well and good :
When midnight ſtrikes, our bond is broken.
Mephiſtopheles. Reflect, on all that lies in the
way!
I need a fortnight, at leaſt, to a day,
For finding so much as a way to reach her.
Fauft. Had I seven hours, to call my own,
Without the devil's aid, alone
I'd snare with ease so young a creature.
Mephiſtopheles. You talk quite Frenchman-like -
to-day;
But don't be vexed beyond all measure.
What boots it thus to snatch at pleasure ?
'Tis not so great, by a long way,
FAUST.
129
As if you firſt, with tender twaddle,
And every sort of fiddle-faddle,
Your little doll ſhould mould and knead,
As one in French romances may read.
Fauft. My appetite needs no such spur.
Mephiſtopheles. Now, then, without a jeſt or ſlur,
I tell you, once for all, such speed
With the fair creature won't succeed.
Nothing will here by ſtorm be taken;
We muſt perforce on intrigue reckon.
Fauſt. Get me some trinket the angel has bleſt!
Lead me to her chan:ber of reſt!
Get me a ’kerchief from her neck,
A garter get me for love's sweet sake!
Mephiſtopheles. To prove to you my willingness
To aid and serve you in this diſtress ;
You ſhall visit her chamber, by me attended,
Before the passing day is ended.
Fauſt. And see her, too? and have her?
Mephiſtopheles.
Nay!
She will to a neighbor's have gone away.
Meanwhile alone by yourself you may,
There in her atmosphere, feaſt at leisure
And revel in dreams of future pleasure.
Fauſt. Shall we ſtart at once?
Mephiſtopheles. 'Tis too early yet.
Fauſt. Some present to take her for me you muſt
get.
[Exit.
130
FAUST.
Mephiſtopheles. Presents already! Brave! He's
on the right foundation!
Full many a noble place I know,
And treasure buried long ago ;
Muſt make a bit of exploration.
[Exit.

FAUST.
131
EVENING,
A little cleanly Chamber.
MARGARET
[braiding and tying up her hair].
I'd give a penny juſt to say
What gentleman that was to-day!
How very gallant he seemed to be,
He’s of a noble family ;
That I could read from his brow and bearing-
And he would not have otherwise been so daring.
Exit.
Faust. MEPHISTOPHeles.
Mephiſtopheles. Come in, ſtep softly, do not fear!
Fauſt [after a pause]. Leave me alone, I prithee,
here!
Mephiſtopheles [peering round). Not every maiden
keeps so neat.
[Exit.
Fauſt [gazing round). Welcome this hallowed
ſtill retreat!
Where twilight weaves its magic glow.
Seize on my heart, love-longing, sad and sweet,
That on the dew of hope doſt feed thy woe!
How breathes around the sense of ſtillness,
Of quiet, order, and content!
In all this poverty what fulness!
What blessedness within this prison pent!
[He throws himself into a leathern chair by the bed.]
132
FAUST.
Take me, too! as thou haſt, in years long flown,
In joy and grief, so many a generation!
Ah me! how oft, on this anceſtral throne,
Have troops of children climbed with exultation!
Perhaps, when Chriſtmas brought the Holy Gueſt,
My love has here, in grateful veneration
The grandsire's withered hand with child-lips preſt.
I feel, O maiden, circling me,
Thy spirit of grace and fulness hover,
Which daily like a mother teaches thee
The table-cloth to spread in snowy purity,
And even, with crinkled sand the floor to cover.
Dear, godlike hand! a touch of thine
Makes this low house a heavenly kingdom ſhine!
And here!
[He lifts a bed-curtain.]
What blissful awe my heart thrills through!
Here for long hours could I linger.
Here, Nature! in light dreams, thy airy finger
The inborn angel's features drew!
Here lay the child, when life's freſh heavings
Its tender bosom firſt made warm,
And here with pure, myſterious weavings
The spirit wrought its godlike form!
And thou! What brought thee here? what power
Stirs in my deepeſt soul this hour?
What wouldſt thou here? What makes thy heart
so sore ?
Unhappy Fauſt! I know thee thus no more.
FAUST.
133
Breathe I a magic atmosphere?
The will to enjoy how ſtrong I felt it,
And in a dream of love am now all melted!
Are we the sport of every puff of air ?
And if ſhe suddenly ſhould enter now,
How would ſhe thy presumptuous folly humble!
Big John-o'dreams! ah, how wouldſt thou
Sink at her feet, collapse and crumble!
Mephiſtopheles. Quick, now! She comes! I'm
looking at her.
Fauſt. Away! Away! O cruel fate!
Mephiſtopheles. Here is a box of moderate weight;
I got it somewhere else—no matter!
Juſt ſhut it up, here, in the press,
I swear to you, 'twill turn her senses ;
I meant the trifles, I confess,
To scale another fair one's fences.
True, child is child and play is play.
Fauſt. Shall I? I know not.
Mephiſtopheles.
Why delay?
You mean perhaps to keep the bauble ?
If so, I counsel you to spare
From idle passion. hours so fair,
And me, henceforth, all further trouble.
I hope you are not avaricious!
I rub my hands, I scratch my head-
[He places the casket in the press and locks it up again.]
134
FAUST.
(Quick! Time we sped!)-
That the dear creature may be led
And moulded by your will and wiſhes ;
And you ſtand here as glum,
As one at the door of the auditorium,
As if before your eyes you saw
In bodily ſhape, with breathless awe,
Metaphysics and physics, grim and gray!
Away!
[Exit.
Margaret (with a lamp]. It seems so close, so
muggy here.
[She opens the window.]
Yet it isn't so very warm out there,
I feel—I know not how-oh dear!
I wiſh my mother ’ld come home, I declare!
I feel a ſhudder all over me crawl-
I'm a silly, timid thing, that's all!
[She begins to sing, while undressing.]
There was a king in Thule,
To whom, when near her grave,
The miſtress he loved so truly
A golden goblet gave.
He cheriſhed it as a lover,
He drained it, every bout;
His eyes with tears ran over,
As oft as he drank thereout.
FAUST.
135
And when he found himself dying,
His towns and cities he told ;
Naught else to his heir denying
Save only the goblet of gold. .
His knights he ſtraightway gathers
And in the midſt sate he,
In the banquet hall of the fathers
In the caſtle over the sea.
There ſtood th' old knight of liquor,
And drank the laſt life-glow,
Then flung the holy beaker
Into the flood below.
He saw it plunging, drinking
And sinking in the roar,
His eyes in death were sinking,
He never drank one drop more.
[She opens the press, to put away her clothes, and discovers the
casket.]
How in the world came this fine caſket here?
I locked the press, I'm very clear.
I wonder what's inside! Dear me! it's very queer!
Perhaps ’twas brought here as a pawn,
In place of something mother lent.
Here is a little key hung on,
A single peep I ſhan't repent!
136
FAUST.
What's here? Good gracious! only see !
I never saw the like in my born days!
On some chief feſtival such finery
Might on some noble lady blaze.
How would this chain become my neck!
Whose may this splendor be, so lonely?
[She arrays herself in it, and steps before the glass.]
Could I but claim the ear-rings only!
A different figure one would make.
What's beauty worth to thee, young blood !
May all be very well and good ;
What then? 'Tis half for pity's sake
They praise your pretty features.
Each burns for gold,
All turns on gold,
Alas for us! poor creatures!
VII
FAUST.
137
PROMENADE.
Faust [going up and down in thought.] MEPHISTOPHELES to
him.
Mephiſtopheles. By all that ever was jilted! By
all the infernal fires !
I wiſh I knew something worse, to curse as my heart
desires!
Fauſt. What griping pain has hold of thee ?
Such grins ne’er saw I in the worſt ſtage-ranter!
Mephiſtopheles. Oh, to the devil I'd give myself
inſtanter,
If I were not already he!
Fauſt. Some pin's loose in your head, old fellow !
That fits you, like a madman thus to bellow!
Mephiſtopheles. Juſt think, the pretty toy we got
for Peg,
A prieſt has hooked, the cursèd plague !
The thing came under the eye of the mother,
And caused her a dreadful internal pother :
The woman's scent is fine and ſtrong;
Snuffles over her prayer-book all day long,
And knows, by the smell of an article, plain,
Whether the thing is holy or profane ;
And as to the box ſhe was soon aware
There could not be much blessing there.
“My child,” ſhe cried, “unrighteous gains
Ensnare the soul, dry up the veins.
138
FAUST.
We'll consecrate it to God's mother,
She'll give us some heavenly manna or other!”
Little Margaret made a wry face; “ I see
'Tis, after all, a gift horse,” said ſhe ;
“And sure, no godless one is he
Who brought it here so handsomely."
The mother sent for a prieſt (they're cunning);
Who scarce had found what game was running,
When he rolled his greedy eyes like a lizard,
And, “ all is rightly disposed,” said he,
“Who conquers wins, for a certainty.
The church has of old a famous gizzard,
She calls it little whole lands to devour,
Yet never a surfeit got to this hour;
The church alone, dear ladies, sans queſtion,
Can give unrighteous gains digeſtion."
Fauſt. That is a general practice, too,
Common alike with king and Jew.
Mephiſtopheles. Then pocketed bracelets and chains
and rings
As if they were muſhrooms or some such things,
With no more thanks, (the greedy-guts !)
Than if it had been a baſket of nuts,
Promised them all sorts of heavenly pay
And greatly edified were they.
Fauſt. And Margery?
Mephiſtopheles. Sits there in diſtress,
And what to do ſhe cannot guess,
FAUST.
139
The jewels her daily and nightly thought,
And he ſtill more by whom they were brought.
Fauſt. My heart is troubled for my pet.
Get her at once another set!
The firſt were no great things in their way.
Mephiſtopheles. O yes, my gentleman finds all
child's play!
Fauft. And what I wiſh, that mind and do!
Stick closely to her neighbor, too.
Don't be a devil soft as pap,
And fetch me some new jewels, old chap!
Mephiſtopheles. Yes, gracious Sir, I will with
pleasure.
[Exit FAUST.
Such love-sick fools will puff away
Sun, moon, and ſtars, and all in the azure,
To please a maiden's whimsies, any day.
Exit.
1
140
FAUST.
THE NEIGHBOR'S HOUSE.
MARTHA (alone].
My dear good man-whom God forgive!
He has not treated me well, as I live!
Right off into the world he's gone
And left me on the ſtraw alone.
I never did vex him, I say it sincerely,
I always loved him, God knows how dearly.
[She weeps.]
Perhaps he's dead S0 cruel fate !
If I only had a certificate!
Enter MARGARET.
Dame Martha !
Martha. What now, Margery?
Margaret. I scarce can keep my knees from
sinking!
Within my press, again, not thinking,
I find a box of ebony,
With things~-can't tell how grand they are,
More splendid than the firſt by far.
Martha. You muſt not tell it to your mother,
She'd serve it as ſhe did the other.
Margaret, Ah, only look! Behold and see!
Martha (puts them on her). Fortunate thing! I
envy thee!
FAUST.
141
Margaret. Alas, in the ſtreet or at church I never
Could be seen on any account whatever.
Martha. Come here as often as you've leisure,
And prink yourself quite privately;
Before the looking-glass walk up and down at pleas-
ure,
Fine times for both us 'twill be;
Then, on occasions, say at some great feaſt,
Can ſhow them to the world, one at a time, at
leaſt.
A chain, and then an ear-pearl comes to view;
Your mother may not see, we'll make some pretext,
too.
Margaret. Who could have brought both caſkets
in succession?
There's something here for juſt suspicion !
[A knock.]
Ah, God! If that's my mother-then!
Martha (peeping through the blind). 'Tis a ſtrange
gentleman-come in!
[Enter Mephistopheles.]
Muſt, ladies, on your kindness reckon
To excuse the freedom I have taken;
[Steps back with profound respect at seeing MARGARET.]
I would for Dame Martha Schwerdtlein inquire!
Martha. I'm ſhe, what, sir, is your desire ?
Mephiſtopheles [aside to her). I know your face,
for now ’twill do ;
A diſtinguiſhed lady is visiting you.
142
FAUST.
For a call so abrupt be pardon meted,
This afternoon it ſhall be repeated.
Martha ſaloud). For all the world, think, child!
my sakes!
The gentleman you for a lady takes.
Margaret. Ah, God! I am a poor young blood;
The gentleman is quite too good;
The jewels and trinkets are none of my own.
Mephiſtopheles. Ah, 'tis not the jewels and trinkets
alone;
Her look is so piercing, so diſtingue !
How glad I am to be suffered to ſtay.
Martha. What bring you, sir? I long to hear-
Mephiſtopheles. Would I'd a happier tale for your
ear!
I hope you'll forgive me this one for repeating :
Your husband is dead and sends you a greeting..
Martha. Is dead ? the faithful heart! Woe! Woe!
My husband dead! I, too, ſhall go! .
Margaret. Ah, deareſt Dame, despair not thou!
Mephiſtopheles. Then, hear the mournful ſtory
now!
Margaret. Ah, keep me free from love forever,
I ſhould never survive such a loss, no, never!
Mephiſtopheles. Joy and woe, woe and joy, muſt
have each other.
Martha. Describe his closing hours to me!
Mephiſtopheles. In Padua lies our departed brother,
FAUST.
143
In the churchyard of St. Anthony,
In a cool and quiet bed lies ſleeping,
In a sacred spots eternal keeping.
Martha. And this was all you had to bring me?
Mephiſtopheles. All but one weighty, grave re-
queſt!
“ Bid her, when I am dead, three hundred masses
sing me!”
With this I have made a clean pocket and breaſt.
Martha. What! not a medal, pin nor ſtone ?
Such as, for memory's sake, no journeyman will lack,
Saved in the bottom of his sack,
And sooner would hunger, be a pauper-
Mephiſtopheles. Madam, your case is hard, I own!
But blame him not, he squandered ne'er a copper.
He too bewailed his faults with penance sore,
Ay, and his wretched luck bemoaned a great deal
more.
Margaret. Alas! that mortals so unhappy prove!
I surely will for him pray many a requiem duly.
Mephiſtopheles. You're worthy of a spouse this
moment, truly
You are a child a man might love.
Margaret. It's not yet time for that, ah no!
Mephiſtopheles. If not a husband, say, meanwhile
a beau.
It is a choice and heavenly blessing,
Such a dear thing to one's bosom pressing.
144
FAUST.
Margaret. With us the cuſtom is not so.
Mephiſtopheles. Cuſtom or not! It happens,
though.
Martha. Tell on!
Mephiſtopheles. I ſtood beside his bed, as he lay
dying,
Better than dung it was somewhat,—
Half-rotten ſtraw; but then, he died as Chriſtian
ought,
And found an unpaid score, on Heaven's account-
book lying.
“How muſt I hate myself,” he cried, “ inhuman!
So to forsake my business and my woman!
Oh! the remembrance murders me!
Would ſhe might ſtill forgive me this side heaven!”
Martha [weeping]. The dear good man! he has
been long forgiven.
Mephiſtopheles. “But God knows, I was less to
blame than ſhe.”
Martha. A lie! And at death's door! abominable!
Mephiſtopheles. If I to judge of men half-way am
able,
He surely fibbed while passing hence.
" Ways to kill time, (he said )-be sure, I did not
need them;
Firſt to get childrenand then bread to feed them,
And bread, too, in the wideſt sense,.
And even to eat my bit in peace could not be thought
on."
FAUST.
145
Martha. Has he all faithfulness, all love, so far
forgotten,
The drudgery by day and night!
Mephiſtopheles. Not so, he thought of them and
you a sight.
He said: “When I from Malta went away,
For wife and children my warm prayers ascended;
And Heaven so far our cause befriended,
Our ſhip a Turkiſh cruiser took one day,
Which for the mighty Sultan bore a treasure.
Then valor got its well-earned pay,
And I too, who received but my juft measure,
A goodly portion bore away.”
Martha. How? Where? And he has left it
somewhere buried ?
Mephiſtopheles. Who knows which way by the
four winds 'twas carried ?
He chanced to take a pretty damsel's eye,
As, a ſtrange sailor, he through Naples jaunted;
All that ſhe did for him so tenderly,
E’en to his blessed end the poor man haunted.
Martha. The scamp! his children thus to plun-
der!
And could not all his troubles sore
Arreſt his vile career, I wonder ?
Mephiſtopheles. But mark! his death wipes off
the score.
Were I in your place now, good lady ;
YE
.
10
146
FAUST.
One year I'd mourn him piously
And look about, meanwhiles, for a new fame already.
Martha. Ah, God! another such as he
I may not find with ease on this side heaven!
Few such kind fools as this dear spouse of mine.
Only to roving he was too much given,
And foreign women and foreign wine,
And that accursed game of dice.
Mephiſtopheles. Mere trifles these ; you need not
heed 'em,
If he, on his part, not o'er-nice,
Winked at, in you, an occasional freedom.
I swear, on that condition, too,
I would, myself, 'change rings with you!
Martha. The gentleman is pleased to jeſt now!
Mephiſtopheles [aside]. I see it's now high time I
ſtirred !
She'd take the very devil at his word.
[TO MARGERY.]
How is it with your heart, my beſt, now?
Margaret. What means the gentleman?
Mephiſtopheles. [aside]. Thou innocent young
heart!
[Aloud.]
Ladies, farewell!
Margaret. Farewell !
Martha. But quick, before we part ! -
I'd like some witness, vouching truly
FAUST.
147
Where, how and when my love died and was buried
duly.
I've always paid to order great attention,
Would of his death read some newspaper mention.
Mephiſtopheles. Ay, my dear lady, in the mouths
of two
Good witnesses each word is true;
I've a friend, a fine fellow, who, when you desire,
Will render on oath what you require.
I'll bring him here.
Martha. O pray, sir, do!
Mephiſtopheles. And this young lady 'll be there
too?
Fine boy ! has travelled everywhere,
And all politeness to the fair.
Margaret. Before him ſhame my face muſt cover.
Mephiſtopheles. Before no king the wide world
over !
Martha. Behind the house, in my garden, at
leisure,
We'll wait this eve the gentlemen's pleasure.
148
FAUST.
STREET.
FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.
Fauſt. How now? What progress? Will 't
come right?
Mephiſtopheles. Ha, bravo ? So you're all on fire ?
Full soon you'll see whom you desire.
In neighbor Martha's grounds we are to meet to-
night.
That woman's one of nature's picking
For pandering and gipsy-tricking!
Fauſt. So far, so good!
Mephiſtopheles. But one thing we muſt do.
Fauſt. Well, one good turn deserves another,
true.
Mephiſtopheles. We simply make a solemn depo-
sition
That her lord's bones are laid in good condition
In holy ground at Padua, hid from view.
Fauſt. That's wise! But then we firſt muſt make
the journey thither?
Mephiſtopheles. Sancta simplicitas! no need of
such to-do ;
Juſt swear, and aſk not why or whether.
Fauft. If that's the beſt you have, the plan's not
worth a feather.
FAUST.
149
• Mephiſtopheles. O holy man! now that's juſt you !
In all thy life haft never, to this hour,
To give false witness taken pains ?
Have you of God, the world, and all that it contains,
Of man, and all that ſtirs within his heart and brains,
Not given definitions with great power,
Unscrupulous breaſt, unbluſhing brow?
And if you search the matter clearly,
Knew you as much thereof, to speak sincerely,
As of Herr Schwerdtlein's death? Confess it now!
Fauſt. Thou always waſt a sophiſt and a liar.
Mephiſtopheles. Ay, if one did not look a little
nigher.
For will you not, in honor, to-morrow
Befool poor Margery to her sorrow,
And all the oaths of true love borrow?
Fauſt. And from the heart, too.
Mephiſtopheles. Well and fair !
Then there 'll be talk of truth unending,
Of love o’ermaſtering, all transcending-
Will every word be heart-born there?
Fauſt. Enough! It will !>If, for the passion
That fills and thrills my being's frame,
I find no name, no fit expression,
Then, through the world, with all my senses, rang-
ing,
Seek what moſt ſtrongly speaks the unchanging,
And call this glow, within me burning,
150
FAUST.
Infinite–endless—endless yearning,
Is that a deviliſh lying game?
Mephiſtopheles. I'm right, nathless!
Fauſt.
Now, hark to me
This once, I pray, and spare my lungs, old fellow-
Whoever will be right, and has a tongue to bellow,
Is sure to be.
But come, enough of swaggering, let's be quit,
For thou art right, because I muſt submit.

FAUST.
151
GARDEN.
MARGARET on Faust's arm. MARTHA with MEPHISTOPHELES.
[Promenading up and down.]
Margaret. The gentleman but makes me more
: confused
With all his condescending goodness.
Men who have travelled wide are used
To bear with much from dread of rudeness ;
I know too well, a man of so much mind
In my poor talk can little pleasure find.
Fauſt. One look from thee, one word, delights
me more
Than this world's wisdom o’er and o’er.
[Kisses her hand.]
Margaret. Don't take that trouble, sir! How
could you bear to kiss it?
A hand so ugly, coarse, and rough!
How much I've had to do! muſt I confess it-
Mother is more than close enough.
[They pass on.]
Martha. And you, sir, are you always travelling
so ?
Mephiſtopheles. Alas, that business forces us to
do it!
With what regret from many a place we go,
Though tendereſt bonds may bind us to it!
152
FAUST.
Martha. 'Twill do in youth's tumultuous maze
To wander round the world, a careless rover;
But soon will come the evil days,
And then, a lone dry ſtick, on the grave's brink to
hover,
For that nobody ever prays.
Mephiſtopheles. The diſtant prospect ſhakes my
reason.
Martha. Then, worthy sir, bethink yourself in
season.
[They pass on.]
Margaret. Yes, out of sight and out of mind!
Politeness you find no hard matter;
But you have friends in plenty, better
Than I, more sensible, more refined.
Fauft. Dear girl, what one calls sensible on
earth,
Is often vanity and nonsense.
Margaret.
How?
Fauſt. Ah, that the pure and simple never know
Aught of themselves and all their holy worth!
That meekness, lowliness, the higheſt measure
Of gifts by nature laviſhed, full and free
Margaret. One little moment, only, think of me,
I ſhall to think of you have ample time and leisure.
Fauſt. You’re, may be, much alone ?
Margaret. Our household is but small, I own,
And yet needs care, if truth were known.
FAUST.
153
We have no maid ; so I attend to cooking, sweep-
ing,
Knit, sew, do every thing, in fact;
And mother, in all branches of housekeeping,
Is so exact!
Not that ſhe need be tied so very closely down;
We might ſtand higher than some others, rather ;
A nice eſtate was left us by my father,
A house and garden not far out of town.
Yet, after all, my life runs pretty quiet;
My brother is a soldier,
My little siſter's dead;
With the dear child indeed a wearing life I led;
And yet with all its plagues again would gladly try it,
The child was such a pet.
Fauft. An angel, if like thee!
Margaret. I reared her and ſhe heartily loved
me.
She and my father never saw each other,
He died before her birth, and mother
Was given up, so low ſhe lay,
But ſhe, by ſlow degrees, recovered, day by day.
Of course ſhe now, long time so feeble,
To nurse the poor little worm was unable,
And so I reared it all alone,
With milk and water ; 'twas my own.
Upon my bosom all day long
It smiled and sprawled and so grew ſtrong.
154
FAUST.
• Fauſt. Ah! thou haft truly known joy's faireſt
flower.
Margaret. But no less truly many a heavy hour.
The wee thing's cradle ſtood at night
Close to my bed; did the leaſt thing awake her,
My ſleep took flight;
'Twas now to nurse her, now in bed to take her,
Then, if ſhe was not ſtill, to rise,
Walk up and down the room, and dance away her
cries,
And at the waſh-tub ſtand, when morning ſtreaked
the ſkies;
Then came the marketing and kitchen-tending,
Day in, day out, work never-ending
One cannot always, sir, good temper keep;
But then it sweetens food and sweetens ſleep.
[They pass on.]
Martha. But the poor women suffer, you muſt
own:
A bachelor is hard of reformation.
Mephiſtopheles. Madam, it reſts with such as you,
alone,
To help me mend my situation.
Martha. Speak plainly, sir, has none your fancy
taken?
Has none made out a tender flame to waken?
Mephiſtopheles. The proverb says: A man's own
hearth,
And a brave wife, all gold and pearls are worth.
FAUST
155
Martha. I mean, has ne'er your heart been smit-
ten ſlightly?
Mephiſtopheles. I have, on every hand, been en-
tertained politely.
Martha. Have you not felt, I mean, a serious
intention?
Mephiſtopheles. Jeſting with women, that's a thing
one ne'er ſhould mention.
Martha. Ah, you misunderſtand!
Mephiſtopheles. It grieves me that I ſhould!
But this I underſtand that you are good.
[They pass on.]
Fauft. So then, my little angel recognized me,
As I came through the garden gate ?
Margaret. Did not my downcaſt eyes ſhow you
surprised me?
Fauſt. And thou forgav'ſt that liberty, of late?
That impudence of mine, so daring,
As thou waſt home from church repairing ?
Margaret. I was confused, the like was new to
me;
No one could say a word to my dishonor.
Ah, thought I, has he, haply, in thy manner
Seen any boldness—impropriety?
It seemed as if the feeling seized him,
That he might treat this girl juſt as it pleased him.
Let me confess! I knew not from what cause,
Some ſlight relentings here began to threaten danger;
156
FAUST.
I know, right angry with myself I was,
That I could not be angrier with the ſtranger.
Fauft. Sweet darling!
Margaret. Let me once!
[She plucks a china-aster and picks off the leaves one after an.
other.]
Fauſt. What's that for ! A bouquet ?
Margaret. No, juſt for sport.
Fauſt. How?
Margaret. Go! you'll laugh at me; away!
[She picks and murmurs to herself.]
Fauſt. What murmureſt thou?
Margaret [half aloud). He loves me-loves me
not.
Fauſt. Sweet face! from heaven that look was
caught!
Margaret [goes on]. Loves me—not_loves me,
not-
[picking off the last leaf with tender joy]
He loves me!
Fauft. Yes, my child! And be this floral word
An oracle to thee. He loves thee!
Knoweſt thou all it means? He loves thee!
[Clasping both her hands.]
Margaret. What thrill is this!
Fauſt. 0, ſhudder not! This look of mine,
This pressure of the hand ſhall tell thee
What cannot be expressed :
FAUST.
157
Give thyself up at once and feel a rapture,
An ecſtasy never to end!
Never !—It's end were nothing but blank despair.
No, unending! unending!
[MARGARET presses his hands, extricates herself, and runs
away. He stands a moment in thought, then follows her].
Martha [coming]. The night falls faſt.
Mephiſtopheles. Ay, and we muſt away.
Martha. If it were not for one vexation,
I would insiſt upon your longer ſtay.
Nobody seems to have no occupation,
No care nor labor,
Except to play the spy upon his neighbor ;
And one becomes town-talk, do whatsoe'er they may.
But where's our pair of doves?
Mephiſtopheles. Flown up the alley yonder.
Light summer-birds!
Martha. He seems attached to her.
Mephiſtopheles. No wonder.
And ſhe to him. So goes the world, they say.
158
FAUST.
A SUMMER-HOUSE.
MARGARET [darts in, hides behind the door, presses the tip of
her finger to her lips, and peeps through the crack].
Margaret. He comes!
Enter FAUST.
Fauſt. Ah rogue, how fly thou art!
I've caught thee!
[Kisses her.]
Margaret [embracing him and returning the kiss].
Dear good man! I love thee from my heart!
[MEPHISTOPHELES knocks.]
Fauſt [ſtamping]. Who's there?
Mephiſtopheles. A friend!
Fauſt. A beaſt!
Mephiſtopheles. Time flies, I don't offend you?
Martha [entering]. Yes, sir, 'tis growing late.
Fauſt. May I not now attend you ?
Margaret. Mother would-Fare thee well!
Fauſt. And muſt I leave thee then?
Farewell!
Martha. Adé!
Margaret. Till, soon, we meet again!
[Exeunt Faust and MEPHISTOPHELES.
Margaret. Good heavens! what such a man's one
brain
FAUST.
159
Can in itself alone contain!
I bluſh my rudeness to confess,
And answer all he says with yes.
Am a poor, ignorant child, don't see
What he can possibly find in me.
S
[Exit.

160
FAUST.
WOODS AND CAVERN.
Fauſt [alone]. Spirit sublime, thou gav'ſt me,
gav’ft me all
For which I prayed. Thou didſt not lift in vain
Thy face upon me in a flame of fire.
Gav'ſt me majeſtic nature for a realm,
The power to feel, enjoy her. Not alone
A freezing, formal visit didſt thou grant;
Deep down into her breaſt invitedſt me
To look, as if ſhe were a bosom-friend.
The series of animated things
Thou bidſt pass by me, teaching me to know
My brothers in the waters, woods, and air.
And when the ſtorm-swept foreſt creaks and groans,
The giant pine-tree craſhes, rending off
The neighboring boughs and limbs, and with deep
roar
The thundering mountain echoes to its fall,
To a safe cavern then thou leadeſt me,
Showſt me myself; and my own bosom's deep
Myſterious wonders open on my view.
And when before my sight the moon comes up
With soft effulgence; from the walls of rock,
From the damp thicket, ſlowly float around
The silvery ſhadows of a world gone by,
And temper meditation's ſterner joy.
O! nothing perfect is vouchsafed to man :
•
FAUST.
161
I feel it now! Attendant on this bliss,
Which brings me ever nearer to the Gods,
Thou gav'ſt me the companion, whom I now
No more can spare, though cold and insolent;
He makes me hate, despise myself, and turns
Thy gifts to nothing with a word—a breath.
He kindles up a wild-fire in my breaſt,
Of reſtless longing for that lovely form.
Thus from desire I hurry to enjoyment,
And in enjoyment languiſh for desire.
Enter MEPHISTOPHELES.
Mephiſtopheles. Will not this life have tired you
by and bye?
I wonder it so long delights you?
'Tis well enough for once the thing to try;
Then off to where a new invites you !
Fauſt. Would thou hadſt something else to do,
That thus to spoil my joy thou burneſt.
Mephiſtopheles. Well! well! I'll leave thee, gladly
too !
Thou dar'ſt not tell me that in earneſt!
'Twere no great loss, a fellow such as you,
So crazy, snappiſh, and uncivil.
One has, all day, his hands full, and more too ;
To worm out from him what he'd have one do,
Or not do, puzzles e’en the very devil.
Fauſt. Now, that I like! That's juſt the tone!
Wants thanks for boring me till I'm half dead!
II
162
FAUST.
Mephiſtopheles. Poor son of earth, if left alone,
What sort of life wouldſt thou have led ?
How oft, by methods all my own,
I've chased the cobweb fancies from thy head!
And but for me, to parts unknown
Thou from this earth hadít long since fed.
What doſt thou here through cave and crevice grop-
ing?
Why like a hornèd owl sit moping ?
And why from dripping stone, damp moss, and rotten
wood
Here, like a toad, suck in thy food ?
Delicious pastime! Ah, I see,
Somewhat of Doctor sticks to thee.
Fauſt. What new life-power it gives me, canst
thou guess
This conversation with the wilderness ?
Ay, couldst thou dream how sweet the employment,
Thou wouldst be devil enough to grudge me my en-
joyment.
Mephiſtopheles. Ay, joy from super-earthly foun-
tains !
By night and day to lie upon the mountains,
To clasp in ecstasy both earth and heaven,
Swelled to a deity by fancy's leaven,
Pierce, like a nervous thrill, earth’s very marrow,
Feel the whole six days' work for thee too narrow,
To enjoy, I know not what, in blest elation,
FAUST.
163
Then with thy laviſh love o’erflow the whole crea-
tion,
Below thy sight the mortal cast,
And to the glorious vision give at last-
[with a gesture]
I must not say what termination!
Fauſt. Shame on thee! .
Mephiſtopheles. This displeases thee; well, surely,
Thou haſt a right to say "for ſhame” demurely.
One muſt not mention that to chaste ears-never,
Which chaſte hearts cannot do without, however.
And, in one word, I grudge you not the pleasure
Of lying to yourself in moderate measure;
But 'twill not hold out long, I know;
Already thou art faſt recoiling,
And soon, at this rate, wilt be boiling
With madness or despair and woe.
Enough of this! Thy sweetheart sits there lonely,
And all to her is close and drear.
Her thoughts are on thy image only,
She holds thee, paſt. all utterance, dear.
At firſt thy passion came bounding and ruſhing
Like a brooklet o’erflowing with melted snow and
rain ;
Into her heart thou haſt poured it guſhing:
And now thy brooklet's dry again.
Methinks, thy woodland throne resigning,
'Twould better suit so great a lord
164
FAUST.
The poor young monkey to reward
For all the love with which ſhe’s pining.
She finds the time dismally long;
Stands at the window, sees the clouds on high
Over the old town-wall go by.
« Were I a little bird!” 26 so runneth her song
All the day, half the night long.
At times ſhe'll be laughing, seldom smile,
At times wept-out ſhe'll seem,
Then again tranquil, you'd deem,-
Lovesick all the while.
Fauſt. Viper! Viper !
Mephiſtopheles [aside]. Ay! and the prey grows
riper !
Fauſt. Reprobate! take thee far behind me!
No more that lovely woman name!
Bid not desire for her sweet person flame
Through each half-maddened sense, again to blind
me!
Mephiſtopheles. What then's to do? She fancies
thou haſt flown,
And more than half ſhe's right, I own.
Fauſt. I'm near her, and, though far away, my
word,
I'd not forget her, lose her; never fear it!
I envy e’en the body of the Lord,
Oft as those precious lips of hers draw near it.
FAUST.
165
Mephiſtopheles. No doubt; and oft my envious
: thought reposes
On the twin-pair that feed among the roses.
Fauſt. Out, pimp!
Mephiſtopheles. Well done! Your jeers I find
fair game for laughter.
The God, who made both lad and lass,
Unwilling for a bungling hand to pass,
Made opportunity right after.
But come! fine cause for lamentation!
Her chamber is your deſtination,
And not the grave, I guess.
Fauft. What are the joys of heaven while her
fond arms enfold me?
O let her kindling bosom hold me!
Feel I not always her diſtress?
The houseless am I not? the unbefriended ?
The monſter without aim or reſt?
That, like a cataract, from rock to rock descended
To the abyss, with maddening greed posseſt:
She, on its brink, with childlike thoughts and
lowly,–
Perched on the little Alpine field her cot,-
This narrow world, so ſtill and holy
Ensphering, like a heaven, her lot.
And I, God's hatred daring,
Could not be content
The rocks all headlong bearing,
166
FAUST.
By me to ruins rent,-
Her, yea her peace, muſt I o'erwhelm and bury!
This victim, hell, to thee was necessary!
Help me, thou fiend, the pang soon ending!
What muſt be, let it quickly be!
And let her fate upon my head descending,
Cruſh, at one blow, both her and me.
Mephiſtopheles. Ha! how it seethes again and
glows !
Go in and comfort her, thou dunce!
Where such a dolt no outlet sees or knows,
He thinks he's reached the end at once.
None but the brave deserve the fair!
Thou haſt had devil enough to make a decent ſhow
of.
For all the world a devil in despair
Is juſt the insipideſt thing I know of.
tru
FAUST.
167
MARGERY'S ROOM.
MARGERY [at the spinning-wheel alone].
My heart is heavy,
My peace is o’er ;
I never-ah! never-
Shall find it more.
While him I crave,
Each place is the grave,
The world is all
Turned into gall.
My wretched brain
Has loſt its wits,
My wretched sense
Is all in bits.
My heart is heavy,
My peace is o’er;
I never-ah! never
Shall find it more.
Him only to greet, I
The ſtreet look down,
Him only to meet, I
Roam through town.
His lofty ſtep,
His noble height,
His smile of sweetness,
His eye of might,
168
FAUST.
His words of magic,
Breathing bliss,
His hand's warm pressure
And ah! his kiss.
My heart is heavy,
My peace is o'er,
I never-ah! never-
Shall find it more.
My bosom yearns
To behold him again.
Ah, could I find him
That beſt of men !
I'd tell him then
How I did miss him,
And kiss him
As much as I could,
To die on his kisses
Would do me good!

FAUST.
169
MARTHA'S GARDEN.
Margaret. Faust.
Margaret. Promise me, Henry.
Fauſt. What I can.
Margaret. How is it now with thy religion, say?
I know thou art a dear good man,
But fear thy thoughts do not run much that way.
Fauſt. Leave that, my child ! Enough, thou haſt
my heart;
For those I love with life I'd freely part;
I would not harm a soul, nor of its faith bereave it.
Margaret. That's wrong, there's one true faith
one muſt believe it?
Fauſt. Muſt one?
Margaret. Ah, could I influence thee, deareſt!
The holy sacraments thou scarce revereſt.
Fauſt. I honor them.
Margaret. But yet without desire.
Of mass and confession both thou 'ſt long begun to
tire.
Believeſt thou in God?
Fauſt. My darling, who engages
To say, I do believe in God?
The queſtion put to prieſts or sages :
Their answer seems as if it sought
To mock the aſker.
170
FAUST.
Margaret. Then believ’ſt thou not?
Fauſt. Sweet face, do not misunderſtand my
thought!
Who dares express him?
And who confess him,
Saying, I do believe?
A man's heart bearing,
What man has the daring
To say: I acknowledge him not?
The All-enfolder,
The All-upholder,
Enfolds, upholds He not
Thee, me, Himself?
Upsprings not Heaven's blue arch high o'er thee?
Underneath thee does not earth ſtand faſt ?
See'ſt thou not, nightly climbing,
Tenderly glancing eternal ſtars ?
Am I not gazing eye to eye on thee?
Through brain and bosom
Throngs not all life to thee,
Weaving in everlaſting inyſtery
Obscurely, clearly, on all sides of thee?
Fill with it, to its utmoſt ſtretch, thy breaſt,
And in the consciousness when thou art wholly bleſt,
Then call it what thou wilt,
Joy! Heart! Love! God!
I have no name to give it!
All comes at laſt to feeling;
FAUST.
171
Name is but sound and smoke,
Beclouding Heaven's warm glow.
Margaret. That is all fine and good, I know;
And juſt as the prieſt has often spoke,
Only with somewhat different phrases.
Fauſt. All hearts, too, in all places,
Wherever Heaven pours down the day's broad bless-
ing,
Each in its way the truth is confessing ;
And why not I in mine, too?
Margaret. Well, all have a way that they incline
to,
But ſtill there is something wrong with thee;
Thou haſt no Chriſtianity.
Fauſt. Dear child!
Margaret. It long has troubled me
That thou ſhouldſt keep such company.
Fauſt. How so?
Margaret. The man whom thou for crony hast,
Is one whom I with all my soul detest.
Nothing in all my life has ever
Stirred up in my heart such a deep disfavor
As the ugly face that man has got.
Fauſt. Sweet plaything ; fear him not!
Margaret. His presence stirs my blood, I own.
I can love almost all men I've ever known;
But much as thy presence with pleasure thrills me,
That man with a secret horror fills me.
172
FAUST.
"
.
And then for a knave I've suspected him long!
God pardon me, if I do him wrong!
Fauſt. To make up a world such odd sticks are
needed.
Margaret. Shouldn't like to live in the house
where he did!
Whenever I see him coming in,
He always wears such a mocking grin,
Half cold, half grim;
One sees, that naught has interest for him;
'Tis writ on his brow and can't be mistaken,
No soul in him can love awaken.
I feel in thy arms so happy, so free,
I yield myself up so blissfully,
He comes, and all in me is closed and frozen now.
Fauſt. Ah, thou mistrustful angel, thou!
Margaret. This weighs on me so sore,
That when we meet, and he is by me,
I feel, as if I loved thee now no more.
Nor could I ever pray, if he were nigh me,
That eats the very heart in me;
Henry, it must be so with thee.
Fauſt. 'Tis an antipathy of thine !
Margaret. Farewell!
Fauft. Ah, can I ne’er recline
One little hour upon thy bosom, pressing
My heart to thine and all my soul confessing?
Margaret. Ah, if my chamber were alone,
FAUST.
173
This night the bolt should give thee free admission;
But mother wakes at every tone,
And if ſhe had the least suspicion,
Heavens! I ſhould die upon the spot!
Fauſt. Thou angel, need of that there's not.
Here is a flaſk! Three drops alone
Mix with her drink, and nature
Into a deep and pleasant ſleep is thrown.
Margaret. Refuse thee, what can I, poor crea-
ture?
I hope, of course, it will not harm her!
Fauſt. Would I advise it then, my charmer?
Margaret. Best man, when thou dost look at me,
I know not what, moves me to do thy will ;
I have already done so much for thee,
Scarce any thing seems left me to fulfil.
[Exit.
Enter MEPHISTOPHELES.
Mephiſtopheles. The monkey! is ſhe gone?
Fauſt. Hast played the spy again?
Mephiſtopheles. I overheard it all quite fully.
The Doctor has been well catechized then ?
Hope it will sit well on him truly.
The maidens won't rest till they know if the men
Believe as good old custom bids them do.
They think: if there he yields, he'll follow our will
too.
Fauſt. Monster, thou wilt not, canst not see,
174
FAUST.
How this true soul that loves so dearly,
Yet hugs, at every cost,
The faith which ſhe
Counts Heaven itself, is horror-struck sincerely
To think of giving up her dearest man for lost.
Me, hiſtopheles. Thou supersensual, sensual wooer,
A girl by the nose is leading thee.
Fauſt. Abortion vile of fire and sewer!
Mephiſtopheles. In physiognomy, too, her skill is
masterly.
When I am near ſhe feels ſhe knows not how,
My little maſk some secret meaning ſhows;
She thinks, I'm certainly a genius, now,
Perhaps the very devil—who knows?
To-night then ?-
Fauſt. Well, what's that to you?
Mephiſtopheles. I find my pleasure in it, too!
NYX
FAUST.
175
AT THE WELL.
Margery and Lizzy with Pitchers.
Lizzy. Hast heard no news of Barbara to-day?
Margery. No, not a word.' I've not been out
much lately.
Lizzy. It came to me through Sybill very
straightly.
She's made a fool of herself at last, they say.
That comes of taking airs !
Margery. What meanst thou?
Lizzy.
Pah!
She daily eats and drinks for two now.
Margery.
Ah!
Lizzy. It serves the jade right for being so cal-
low.
How long ſhe's been hanging upon the fellow !
Such a promenading !
To fair and dance parading !
Everywhere as first ſhe must ſhine,
He was treating her always with tarts and wine ;
She began to think herself something fine,
And let her vanity so degrade her
That ſhe even accepted the presents he made her.
There was hugging and smacking, and so it went
on-
And lo! and behold! the flower is gone!
176
FAUST.
Margery Poor thing!
Lizzy. Canst any pity for her feel !
When such as we spun at the wheel,
Our mothers kept us in-doors after dark;
While ſhe stood cozy with her spark,
Or sate on the door-bench, or sauntered round,
And never an hour too long they found.
But now her pride may let itself down,
To do penance at church in the sinner's gown!
Margery. He'll certainly take her for his wife.
Lizzy. He'd be a fool! A spruce young blade
Has room enough to ply his trade.
Besides, he's gone.
Margery. Now, that's not fair !
Lizzy. If ſhe gets him, her lot 'll be hard to bear.
The boys will tear up her wreath, and what's more,
We'll strew chopped straw before her door.
[Exit.
Margery [going home]. Time was when I, too,
instead of bewailing,
Could boldly jeer at a poor girl's failing!
When my scorn could scarcely find expression
At hearing of another's transgression !
How black it seemed! though black as could be,
It never was black enough for me.
I blessed my soul, and felt so high,
And now, myself, in sin I lie!
Yet-all that led me to it, sure,
O God! it was so dear, so pure!
FAUST.
177
DONJON.27
[In a niche a devotional image of the Mater Dolorosa, before it
pots of flowers.]
MARGERY [puts fresh flowers into the pots].
Ah, hear me,
Draw kindly near me,
Mother of sorrows, heal my woe!
Sword-pierced, and stricken
With pangs that sicken,
Thou seeſt thy son's laſt life-blood flow!
Thy look—thy sighing—,
To God are crying,
Charged with a son's and mother's woe!
Sad mother!
What other
Knows the pangs that eat me to the bone ?
What within my poor heart burneth,
How it trembleth, how it yearneth,
Thou canst feel and thou alone!
TN
1
Go where I will, I never
Find peace or hope—forever
Woe, woe and misery!
I2
178
FAUST,
Alone, when all are ſleeping,
I'm weeping, weeping, weeping,
My heart is cruſhed in me.
The pots before my window,
In the early morning-hours,
Alas, my tears bedewed them,
As I plucked for thee these flowers,
When the bright sun good morrow
In at my window said,
Already, in my anguiſh,
I sate there in my bed.
From ſhame and death redeem me, oh!
Draw near me,
And, pitying, hear me,
Mother of sorrows, heal my woe!

FAUST.
179
NIGHT.
Street before Margery's Door.
VALENTINE (soldier, MARGERY’s brother).
When at the mess I used to sit,
Where many a one will ſhow his wit,
And heard my comrades one and all
The flower of the sex extol,
Drowning their praise with bumpers high,
Leaning upon my elbows, I
Would hear the braggadocios through,
And then, when it came my turn, too,
Would stroke my beard and, smiling, say,
A brimming bumper in my hand.:
All very decent in their way!
But is there one, in all the land,
With my sweet Margy to compare,
A candle to hold to my sister fair ?
Bravo! Kling! Klang! it echoed round!
One party cried : 'tis truth he speaks,
She is the jewel of the sex !
And the braggarts all in silence were bound.
And now !-one could pull out his hair with vexation,
And run up the walls for mortification ! -
Every two-legged creature that goes in breeches
Can mock me with sneers and stinging speeches!
And I like a guilty debtor sitting,
For fear of each casual word am sweating!
180
FAUST.
And though I could smaſh them in my ire,
I dare not call a soul of them liar.
What's that comes yonder, sneaking along ?
There are two of them there, if I see not wrong.
Is’t he, I'll give him a dose that 'll cure him,
He'll not leave the spot alive, I assure him!
Faust. MEPHISTOPHELES.
Fauſt. How from yon window of the sacristy
The ever-burning lamp sends up its glimmer,
And round the edge grows ever dimmer,
Till in the gloom its flickerings die !
So in my bosom all is nightlike.
Mephiſtopheles. A starving tom-cat I feel quite
like,
That o'er the fire ladders crawls
Then softly creeps around the walls.
My aim's quite virtuous ne'ertheless,
A bit of thievilh lust, a bit of wantonness.
I feel it all my members haunting-
The glorious Walpurgis night.
One day—then comes the feast enchanting
That ſhall all pinings well requite.
Fauſt. Meanwhile can that the caſket be, I wonder,
I see behind rise glittering yonder.28
Mephiſtopheles. Yes, and thou soon ſhalt have the
pleasure
Of lifting out the precious treasure.
FAUST.
181
I lately ’neath the lid did squint,
Has piles of lion-dollars 29 in't.
Fauſt. But not a jewel ? Not a ring ?
To deck my mistress not a trinket?
Mephiſtopheles. I caught a glimpse of some such
thing,
Sort of pearl bracelet I ſhould think it.
Fauſt. That's well! I always like to bear
Some present when I visit my fair.
Mephiſtopheles. You ſhould not murmur if your
fate is,
To have a bit of pleasure gratis.
Now, as the stars fill heaven with their bright throng,
List a fine piece, artistic purely: ..
I sing her here a moral song,
To make a fool of her more surely.
[Sings to the guitar.]80
What dost thou here,
Katrina dear,
At daybreak drear,
Before thy lover's chamber?
Give o'er, give o'er!
The maid his door
Lets in, no more
Goes out a maid-remember!
Take heed! take heed!
Once done, the deed
182
FAUST.
Ye'll rue with speed-
And then“good night-poor thing—a!
Though ne’er so fair
His speech, beware,
Until you bear
His ring upon your finger.
Valentine [comes forward]. Whom lur'ſt thou
here? what prey dost scent ?
Rat-catching 31 offspring of perdition !
To hell goes first the instrument!
To hell then follows the musician!
Mephiſtopheles. He's broken the guitar! to music,
then, good-bye, now.
Valentine. A game of cracking ſkulls we'll try
now!
Mephiſtopheles [to Fauft]. Never you flinch, Sir
Doctor! Briſk!
Mind every word I say—be wary!
Stand close by me, out with your whiſk!
Thruſt home upon the churl! I'll parry.
Valentine. Then parry that!
Mephiſtopheles. Be sure. Why not?
Valentine. And that!
Mephiſtopheles. With ease!
Valentine. The devil's aid he's got!
But what is this? My hand's already lame.
Mephiſtopheles [to Fauft]. Thruſt home!
Valentine falls]. () woe!
FAUST.
183
Mephiſtopheles. Now is the lubber tame !
But come! We muſt be off. I hear a clatter;
And cries of murder, too, that faſt increase.
I'm an old hand to manage the police,
But then the penal court's another matter.
Martha. Come out! Come out!
Margery (at the window). Bring on a light!
Martha [as above]. They swear and scuffle, scream
and fight.
People. There's one, has got 's death-blow!
Martha [coming out]. Where are the murderers,
have they Aown?
Margery [coming out]. Who's lying here?
People. Thy mother's son.
Margery. Almighty God! What woe!
Valentine. · I'm dying ! that is quickly said,
And even quicklier done.
Women! Why howl, as if half-dead?
Come, hear me, every one!
[All gather round him.]
My Margery, look! Young art thou ſtill,
But manageſt thy matters ill,
Haſt not learned out yet quite.
I say in confidence—think it o'er :
Thou art juſt once for all a whore;
Why, be one, then, outright.
Margery. My brother! God! What words to
me!
184
FAUST
Valentine. In this game let our Lord God be!
That which is done, alas! is done.
And every thing its course will run.
With one you secretly begin,
Presently more of them come in,
And when a dozen ſhare in thee,
Thou art the whole town's property.
When ſhame is born to this world of sorrow,
The birth is carefully hid from sight,
And the myſterious veil of night
To cover her head they borrow;
Yes, they would gladly ſtifle the wearer ;
But as ſhe grows and holds herself high,
She walks uncovered in day's broad eye,
Though ſhe has not become a whit fairer.
The uglier her face to sight,
The more ſhe courts the noonday light.
Already I the time can see
When all good souls shall ſhrink from thee,
Thou proſtitute, when thou go'ſt by them,
As if a tainted corpse were nigh them.
Thy heart within thy breaſt ſhall quake then,
When they look thee in the face.
Shalt wear no gold chain more on thy neck then!
Shalt ſtand no more in the holy place!
No pleasure in point-lace collars take then,
FAUST.
185
Nor for the dance thy person deck then!
But into some dark corner gliding,
'Mong beggars and cripples wilt be hiding;
And even ſhould God thy.sin forgive,
Wilt be curs’d on earth while thou ſhalt live!
Martha. Your soul to the mercy of God sur-
render!
Will you add to your load the sin of ſlander?
Valentine. Could I get at thy dried-up frame,
Vile bawd, so loſt to all sense of ſhame!
Then might I hope, e’en this side Heaven,
Richly to find my sins forgiven.
Margery. My brother! This is hell to me!
Valentine. I tell thee, let these weak tears be!
When thy laſt hold of honor broke,
Thou gav'ſt my heart the heavieſt ſtroke.
I'm going home now through the grave.
To God, a soldier and a brave.
[Dies.

186
FAUST.
CATHEDRAL.
Service, Organ, and Singing.
[MARGERY amidst a crowd of people. Evil Spirit behind
MARGERY.]
Evil Spirit. How different was it with thee,
Margy,
When, innocent and artless,
Thou cam'ſt here to the altar,
From the well-thumbed little prayer-book,
Petitions lisping,
Half full of child's play,
Half full of Heaven!
Margy!
Where are thy thoughts ?
What crime is buried
Deep within thy heart?
Prayeſt thou haply for thy mother, who
Slept over into long, long pain, on thy account?
Whose blood upon thy threſhold lies ?
-And ſtirs there not already
Beneath thy heart a life
Tormenting itself and thee
With bodings of its coming hour?
Margery. Woe! Woe!
Could I rid me of the thoughts,
Still through my brain backward and forward fitting,
Againſt my will!
FAUST.
187
T
Chorus. Dies irae, dies illa
Solvet saeclum in favillâ.
[Organ plays.]
Evil Spirit. Wrath smites thee!
Hark! the trumpet sounds!
The graves are trembling!
And thy heart,
Made o'er again
For fiery torments,
Waking from its aſhes
Starts up!
Margery. Would I were hence!
I feel as if the organ's peal
My breath were ſtifling,
The choral chant
My heart were melting.
Chorus. Judex ergo cum sedebit,
Quidquid latet apparebit.
Nil inultum remanebit.
Margery. How cramped it feels!
The walls and pillars
Imprison me!
And the arches
Cruſh me ”Air!
Evil Spirit. What! hide thee! sin and ſhame
Will not be hidden! .
Air ? Light?
Woe's thee!
188
FAUST.
Chorus. Quid sum miser tunc dicturus ?
Quem patronum rogaturus ?
Cum vix juſtus sit securus.
Evil Spirit. They turn their faces,
The glorified, from thee.
To take thy hand, the pure ones
Shudder with horror.
Woe!
Chorus. Quid sum miser tunc dicturus ?
Margery. Neighbor! your phial! -
[She swoons.

OS
FAUST.
189
M
WALPURGIS NIGHT.32
Harz Mountains.
District of Schirke and Elend.
Faust. MePHISTOPHELES.
Mephiſtopheles. Wouldſt thou not like a broom-
ſtick, now, to ride on?
At this rate we are, ſtill, a long way off;
I'd rather have a good tough goat, by half,
Than the beſt legs a man e’er set his pride on.
Fauſt. So long as I've a pair of good freſh legs
to ſtride on,
Enough for me this knotty ſtaff.
What use of ſhortening the way!
Following the valley's labyrinthine winding,
Then up this rock a pathway finding,
From which the spring leaps down in bubbling play,
That is what spices such a walk, I say!
Spring through the birch-tree's veins is flowing,
The very pine is feeling it;
Should not its influence set our limbs a-glowing ?
Mephiſtopheles. I do not feel it, not a bit!
My wintry blood runs very ſlowly;
I wiſh my path were filled with froſt and snow.
The moon's imperfect diſk, how melancholy
It rises there with red, belated glow,
And ſhines so badly that, where'er one can turn,
190
FAUST.
At every ſtep he hits a rock or tree!
With leave I'll beg a Jack-o’lantern!
I see one yonder burning merrily.
Heigh, there! my friend! May I thy aid desire ?
Why waſte at such a rate thy fire ?
Come, light us up yon path, good fellow, pray!
Jack-o’lantern. Out of respect, I hope I ſhall be
able
To rein a nature quite unſtable ;
We usually take a zigzag way.
Mephiſtopheles. Heigh! heigh! He thinks man's
crooked course to travel.
Go ſtraight ahead, or, by the devil,
I'll blow your Aickering life out with a puff.
Fack-o’lantern. You're maſter of the house, that's
plain enough,
So I'll comply with your desire.
But see! The mountain's magic-mad to-night,
And if your guide’s to be a Jack-o'lantern's light,
Strict rectitude you'll scarce require.
FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, JACK-O’Lantern, in alternate song.
Spheres of magic, dream, and vision,
Now, it seems, are opening o’er us.
For thy credit, use precision!
Let the way be plain before us
Through the lengthening desert regions.
See how trees on trees, in legions,
Hurrying by us, change their places,
1
FAUST.
191
And the bowing crags make faces,
And the rocks, long noses ſhowing,
Hear them snoring, hear them blowing ! 33
Down through ſtones, through mosses flow-
ing,
See the brook and brooklet springing.
Hear I ruſtling ? hear I singing ?
Love-plaints, sweet and melancholy,
Voices of those days so holy?
All our loving, longing, yearning ?
Echo, like a ſtrain returning
From the olden times, is ringing.
Uhu! Schuhu! Tu-whit! Tu-whit!
Are the jay, and owl, and pewit
All awake and loudly calling ?
What goes through the buſhes yonder?
Can it be the Salamander-
Belly thick and legs a-sprawling ?
Roots and fibres, snake-like, crawling,
Out from rocky, sandy places,
Wheresoe’er we turn our faces,
Stretch enormous fingers round us,
Here to catch us, there confound us;
Thick, black knars to life are ſtarting,
Polypusses’-feelers darting
At the traveller. Field-mice, swarming,
Thousand-colored armies forming,
Scamper on through moss and heather!
192
FAUST.
And the glow-worms, in the darkling,
With their crowded escort sparkling,
Would confound us altogether.
But to guess I'm vainly trying-
Are we ſtopping ? are we hieing ?
Round and round us all seems flying,
Rocks and trees, that make grimaces,
And the miſt-lights of the places
Ever swelling, multiplying.
Mephiſtopheles. Here's my coat-tail-tightly thumb
it!
We have reached a middle summit,
Whence one ſtares to see how ſhines
Mammon in the mountain-mines.
Fauft. How ſtrangely through the dim recesses
A dreary dawning seems to glow!
And even down the deep abysses
Its melancholy quiverings throw!
Here smoke is boiling, miſt exhaling;
Here from a vapory veil it gleams,
Then, a fine thread of light, goes trailing,
Then guſhes up in fiery ſtreams.
The valley, here, you see it follow,
One mighty food, with hundred rills,
And here, pent up in some deep hollow,
It breaks on all sides down the hills.
Here, spark-ſhowers, darting up before us,
Like golden sand-clouds rise and fall.
S
FAUST.
193
But yonder see how blazes o’er us,
All up and down, the rocky wall!
Mephiſtopheles. Has not Sir Mammon gloriously
lighted
His palace for this feſtive night?
Count thyself lucky for the sight :
I catch e’en now a glimpse of noisy gueſts invited.
Fauſt. How the mad tempeſt 34 sweeps the air !
On cheek and neck the wind-guſts how they flout me!
Mephiſtopheles. Muſt seize the rock's old ribs and
hold on ſtoutly!
Else will they hurl thee down the dark abysses there.
A miſt-rain thickens the gloom.
Hark, how the foreſts craſh and boom!
Out Aly the owls in dread and wonder;
Splitting their columns asunder,
Hear it, the evergreen palaces ſhaking!
· Boughs are twiſting and breaking!
Of ſtems what a grinding and moaning!
Of roots what a creaking and groaning!
In frightful confusion, headlong tumbling,
They fall, with a sound of thunder rumbling,
And, through the wreck-piled ravines and abysses,
The tempeſt howls and hisses.
Hearſt thou voices high up o'er us?
Close around us—far before us?
Through the mountain, all along,
Swells a torrent of magic song.
13
194
FAUST.
Witches [in chorus]. The witches go to the
Brocken's top,
The ſtubble is yellow, and green the crop.
They gather there at the well-known call,
Sir Urian 35 sits at the head of all.
Then on we go o'er ſtone and ſtock :
The witch, ſhe-and--the buck.
Voice. Old Baubo comes along, I vow!
She rides upon a farrow-sow.
Chorus. Then honor to whom honor's due!
Ma’am Baubo ahead! and lead the crew!
A good fat sow, and ma’am on her back,
Then follow the witches all in a pack.
Voice. Which way didſt thou come?
Voice.
By the Ilsenſtein!
Peeped into an owl's neſt, mother of mine!
What a pair of eyes!
Voice. To hell with your flurry !
Why ride in such hurry!
Voice. The hag be confounded!
My ſkin ſhe has wounded!
Witches [chorus]. The way is broad, the way is
long,
What means this noisy, crazy throng?
The broom it scratches, the fork it ſticks,
The child is ſtifled, the mother breaks.
Wizards (semi-chorus]. Like housed-up snails
we're creeping on,
FAUST.
195
The women all ahead are gone.
When to the Bad One's house we go,
She gains a thousand ſteps, you know.
The other half. We take it not precisely so;
What ſhe in thousand ſteps can go,
Make all the hafte ſhe ever can,
'Tis done in juſt one leap by man.
Voice [above]. Come on, come on, from Felsensee !
Voices [ from below). We'd gladly join your airy
way.
For waſh and clean us as much as we will,
We always prove unfruitful ſtill.
Both chorusses. The wind is huſhed, the ſtar
foots by,
The moon ſhe hides her sickly eye.
The whirling, whizzing magic-choir
Darts forth ten thousand sparks of fire.
Voice [ from below]. Ho, there! whoa, there!
Voice from above]. Who calls from the rocky
cleft below there?
Voice [below]. Take me too! take me too!
Three hundred years I've climbed to you,
Seeking in vain my mates to come at,
For I can never reach the summit.
Both chorusses. Can ride the besom, the ſtick can
ride,
Can ſtride the pitchfork, the goat can ſtride;
Who neither will ride to-night, nor can,
Muſt be forever a ruined man.
196
FAUST.
Half-witch [below]. I hobble on—I'm out of
wind-
And ſtill they leave me far behind!
To find peace here in vain I come,
I get no more than I left at home.
Chorus of witches. The witch's salve can never
fail,
A rag will answer for a sail,
Any trough will do for a ſhip, that's tight;
He'll never fly who fies not to-night.
Both chorusses. And when the higheſt peak we
round,
Then lightly graze along the ground,
And cover the heath, where eye can see,
With the flower of witch-errantry.
[They alight.]
Mephiſtopheles. What squeezing and puſhing, what
ruſtling and huſtling!
What hissing and twirling, what chattering and buſt-
ling!
How it ſhines and sparkles and burns and ſtinks!
A true witch-element, methinks !
Keep close! or we are parted in two winks.
Where art thou?
· Fauſt [in the diſtance]. Here!
Mephiſtopheles. What! carried off already?
Then I muſt use my house-right.-Steady!
Room! Squire Voland 36 comes. Sweet people,
Clear the ground!
FAUST.
197
Here, Doctor, grasp my arm! and, at a single bound,
Let us escape, while yet ’tis easy;
E’en for the like of me they're far too crazy.
See! yonder, something ſhines with quite peculiar
glare,
And draws me to those buſhes mazy.
Come! come! and let us flip in there.
Fauſt. All-contradicting sprite! To follow thee
I'm fated.
But I muſt say, thy plan was very bright!
We seek the Brocken here, on the Walpurgis night,
Then hold ourselves, when here, completely isolated!
Mephiſtopheles. What motley Aames light up the
heather!
A merry club is met together,
In a small group one's not alone.
Fauſt. I'd rather be up there, I own!
See! curling smoke and flames right blue !
To see the Evil One they travel;
There many a riddle to unravel.
Mephiſiopheles. And tie up many another, too.
Let the great world there rave and riot,
We here will house ourselves in quiet.
The saying has been long well known:
In the great world one makes a small one of his own.
I see young witches there quite naked all,
And old ones who, more prudent, cover.
For my sake some flight things look over ;
198
FAUST.
The fun is great, the trouble small.
I hear them tuning inſtruments! Curs’d jangle!
Well! one muſt learn with such things not to
wrangle.
Come on! Come on! For so it needs must be,
Thou ſhalt at once be introduced by me,
And I new thanks from thee be earning.
That is no scanty space ; what sayſt thou, friend?
Juſt take a look! thou scarce canſt see the end.
There, in a row, a hundred fires are burning;
They dance, chat, cook, drink, love; where can be
found
Any thing better, now, the wide world round?
Fauſt. Wilt thou, as things are now in this con-
dition,
Present thyself for devil, or magician ?
Mephiſtopheles. I've been much used, indeed, to
going incognito;
But then, on gala-day, one will his order ſhow.
No garter makes my rank appear,
But then the cloven foot ſtands high in honor here.
Seeſt thou the snail ? Look there! where ſhe comes
creeping yonder!
Had ſhe already smelt the rat,
I ſhould not very greatly wonder.
Disguise is useless now, depend on that.
Come, then! we will from fire to fire wander,
Thou ſhalt the wooer be and I the pander.
FAUST.
199
[To a party who sit round expiring embers.]
Old gentlemen, you scarce can hear the fiddle!
You'd gain more praise from me, ensconced there in
the middle,
'Mongſt that young rousing, tousing set.
One can, at home, enough retirement get.
General Truſt not the people's fickle favor!
However much thou mayſt for them have done.
Nations, as well as women, ever,
Worſhip the rising, not the setting sun.
Miniſter. From the right path we've drifted far
away,
The good old paſt my heart engages ;
Those were the real golden ages,
When such as we held all the sway.
Parvenu. We were no simpletons, I trow,
And often did the thing we ſhould not;
But all is turning topsy-turvy now,
And if we tried to ſtem the wave, we could not.
Author. Who on the whole will read a work to-
day,
Of moderate sense, with any pleasure ?
And as regards the dear young people, they
Pert and precocious are beyond all measure.
Mephiſtopheles [who all at once appears very old].
The race is ripened for the judgment day:
So I, for the laſt time, climb the witch-mountain,
thinking,
200
FAUST.
And, as my caſk runs thick, I say,
The world, too, on its lees is sinking.
Witch-broker. Good gentlemen, don't hurry by!
The opportunity's a rare one!
My ſtock is an uncommon fair one,
Please give it an attentive eye.
There's nothing in my ſhop, whatever,
But on the earth its mate is found;
That has not proved itself right clever
To deal mankind some fatal wound.
No dagger here, but blood has some time ſtained
it;
No cup, that has not held some hot and poisonous
juice,
And ftung to death the throat that drained it ;
No trinket, but did once a maid seduce;
No sword, but hath some tie of sacred honor riven,
Or haply from behind through foeman's neck been
driven.
Mephiſtopheles. You're quite behind the times, I
tell you, Aunty!
By-gones be by-gones! done is done!
Get us up something new and jaunty!
For new things now the people run.
Fauft. To keep my wits I muſt endeavor!
Call this a fair! I swear, I never~!
Mephiſtopheles. Upward the billowy mass is mov-
ing;
FAUST.
201
You're ſhoved along and think, meanwhile, you're
ſhoving..
Fauſt. What woman's that?
Mephiſtopheles. Mark her attentively.
That's Lilith. 37
Fauſt. Who?
Mephiſtopheles. Adam's firſt wife is ſhe.
Beware of her one charm, those lovely tresses,
In which ſhe ſhines preëminently fair."
When those soft meſhes once a young man snare,
How hard ’twill be to escape he little guesses.
Fauſt. There sit an old one and a young to-
gether;
They've ſkipped it well along the heather!
Mephiſtopheles. No reſt from that till night is
through.
Another dance is up; come on! let us fall to.
Fauft [dancing with the young one]. A lovely
dream once came to me;
In it I saw an apple-tree;
Two beauteous apples beckoned there,
I climbed to pluck the fruit so fair.
The Fair one. Apples you greatly seem to prize,
And did so even in Paradise.
I feel myself delighted much
That in my garden I have such.
Mephiſtopheles [with the old hag]. A dismal dream
once came to me;
202
FAUST.
In it I saw a cloven tree,
It had a -- but ſtill,
I looked on it with right good-will.
The Hag. With beſt respect I here salute
The noble knight of the cloven foot!
Let him hold a near,
If a he does not fear.
Proctophantasmiff.38 What's this ye undertake?
Confounded crew!
Have we not giv’n you demonſtration ?
No spirit ſtands on legs in all creation,
And here you dance juſt as we mortals do!
The Fair one [dancing]. What does that fellow
at our ball ?
Fauſt [dancing). Eh! he muſt have a hand in
all.
What others dance that he appraises.
Unless each ſtep he criticizes,
The ſtep as good as no ſtep he will call.
But when we move ahead, that plagues him more
than all.
If in a circle you would ſtill keep turning,
As he himself in his old mill goes round,
He would be sure to call that sound!
And moſt so, if you went by his superior learning.
Proctophantasmiſt. What, and you ſtill are here!
Unheard off obſtinates!
Begone! We've cleared it up! You ſhallow pates!
FAUST.
203
The deviliſh pack from rules deliverance boaſts.
We've grown so wise, and Tegel 39 ſtill sees ghoſts.
How long I've toiled to sweep these cobwebs from
the brain,
And yet—unheard of folly ! all in vain.
The Fair one. And yet on us the ſtupid bore ſtill
tries it!
Proctophantasmiſt. I tell you spirits, to the face,
I give to spirit-tyranny no place,
My spirit cannot exercise it.
[They dance on.]
I can't succeed to-day, I know it;
Still, there's the journey, which I like to make,
And hope, before the final ſtep I take,
To rid the world of devil and of poet.
Mephiſtopheles. You'll see him ſhortly sit into a
puddle,
In that way his heart is reassured ;
When on his rump the leeches well ſhall fuddle,
Of spirits and of spirit he'll be cured.
[To Faust, who has left the dance.]
Why let the lovely girl ſlip through thy fingers,
Who to thy dance so sweetly sang ?
Fauſt. Ah, right amidſt her singing, sprang
A wee red mouse from her mouth and made me
cower.
Mephiſtopheles. That's nothing wrong! You're
in a dainty way;
204
FAUST.
Enough, the mouse at leaſt wan't gray.
Who minds such thing in happy amorous hour ?
Fauſt. Then saw I-
Mephiſtopheles. What?
Fauſt. Mephiſto, seeſt thou not
Yon pale, fair child afar, who ſtands so sad and
lonely,
And moves so ſlowly from the spot,
Her feet seem locked, and the drags them only.
I muſt confess, ſhe seems to me
To look like my own good Margery.
Mephiſtopheles. Leave that alone! The sight no
health can bring.
It is a magic ſhape, an idol, no live thing.
To meet it never can be good!
Its haggard look congeals a mortal's blood,
And almoſt turns him into ſtone;
The ſtory of Medusa thou haſt known.
Fauſt. Yes, 'tis a dead one's eyes that ſtare upon
me,
Eyes that no loving hand e'er closed;
That is the angel form of her who won me,
'Tis the dear breaſt on which I once reposed.
Mephiſtopheles. 'Tis sorcery all, thou fool, misled
by passion's dreams!
For ſhe to every one his own love seems.
Fauſt. What bliss! what woe! Methinks I
r
never
FAUST.
205
My sight from that sweet form can sever.
Seeſt thou, not thicker than a knife-blade's back,
A small red ribbon, fitting sweetly
The lovely neck it clasps so neatly?
Mephiſtopheles. I see the ſtreak around her neck.
Her head beneath her arm, you'll next behold her;
Perseus has lopped it from her ſhoulder,
But let thy crazy passion reſt!
Come, climb with me yon hillock's breaſt,
Was e'er the Prater 40 merrier then?
And if no sorcerer's charm is o'er me,
That is a theatre before me.
What's doing there?
Servibilis. They'll ſtraight begin again.
A bran-new piece, the very laſt of seven ;
To have so much, the fashion here thinks fit.
By Dilettantes it is given;
'Twas by a Dilettante writ.
Excuse me, sirs, I go to greet you;
I am the curtain-raising Dilettant.
Mephiſtopheles. When I upon the Blocksberg
meet you,
That I approve; for there's your place, I grant.
206
FAUST.
WALPURGIS-NIGHT'S DREAM, OR OBERON AND
TITANIA'S GOLDEN NUPTIALS.
Intermezzo.
Theatre manager. Here, for once, we reſt, to-day,
Heirs of Mieding’s 41 glory.
All the scenery we display-
Damp vale and mountain hoary !
Herald. To make the wedding a golden one,
Muſt fifty years expire;
But when once the ſtrife is done,
I prize the gold the higher.
Oberon. Spirits, if my good ye mean,
Now let all wrongs be righted;
For to-day your king and queen
Are once again united.
Puck. Once let Puck coming whirling round,
And set his foot to whiſking,
Hundreds with him throng the ground,
Frolicking and friſking.
Ariel. Ariel awakes the song
With many a heavenly measure;
Fools not few he draws along,
But fair ones hear with pleasure.
Oberon. Spouses who your feuds would smother,
Take from us a moral !
FAUST.
207
Two who wish to love each other,
Need only firſt to quarrel.
Titania. If she pouts and he looks grim,
Take them both together,
To the north pole carry him,
And off with her to t’other.
Orchestra Tutti.
Fortissimo. Fly-snouts and gnats’-noses, these,
And kin in all conditions,
Grass-hid crickets, frogs in trees,
We take for our musicians !
Solo. See, the Bagpipe comes! fall back!
Soap-bubble's name he owneth.
How the Schnecke-ſchnicke-ſchnack
Through his snub-nose droneth!
Spirit that is juſt ſhaping itself. Spider-foot, toad's-
belly, too,
Give the child, and winglet!
'Tis no animalcule, true,
But a poetic thinglet.
A pair of lovers. Little ſtep and lofty bound
Through honey-dew and flowers;
Well thou trippeſt o’er the ground,
But soarſt not o'er the bowers.
Curious traveller. This muſt be masquerade!
How odd!
My very eyes believe I?
Oberon, the beauteous God
Here, to-night perceive I!
208
FAUST.
Orthodox. Neither claws, nor tail I see !
And yet, without a cavil,
Juſt as “the Gods of Greece” 42 were, he
Muſt also be a devil.
Northern artiſt. What here I catch is, to be sure,
But ſketchy recreation ;
And yet for my Italian tour
'Tis timely preparation.
Purift. Bad luck has brought me here, I see !
The rioting grows louder.
And of the whole witch company,
There are but two, wear powder.
Young witch. Powder becomes, like petticoat,
Your little, gray old woman :
Naked I sit upon my goat,
And ſhow the untrimmed human.
Matron. To ſtand here jawing 43 with you, we
Too much good-breeding cheriſh;
But young and tender though you be,
I hope you'll rot and periſh.
Leader of the music. Fly-snouts and gnat-noses,
please,
Swarm not so round the naked !
Grass-hid crickets, frogs in trees,
Keep time and don't forsake it!
Weathercock [towards one side]. Find better com-
pany, who can !
• Here, brides attended duly !
FAUST.
209
There, bachelors, ranged man by man,
Moſt hopeful people truly !
Weathercock [towards the other side). And if the
ground don't open ſtraight,
The crazy crew to swallow,
You'll see me, at a furious rate,
Jump down to hell's black hollow.
Xenia.44 We are here as insects, ah!
Small, ſharp nippers wielding,
Satan, as our cher papa,
Worthy honor yielding.
Hennings. See how naïvely, there, the throng
Among themselves are jeſting,
You'll hear them, I've no doubt, ere long,
Their good kind hearts proteſting.
Musagetes. Apollo in this witches' group
Himself right gladly loses ;
For truly I could lead this troop
Much easier than the muses.
Ci-devant genius of the age. Right company will
raise man up.
Come, grasp my ſkirt, Lord bless us !
The Blocksberg has a good broad top,
Like Germany's Parnassus.
Curious traveller. Tell me who is that stiff man?
With what stiff step he travels !
He noses out whate'er he can.
“He scents the Jesuit devils.”
14
210
FAUST.
Crane. In clear, and muddy water, too,
The long-billed gentleman fiſhes;
Our pious gentlemen we view
Fingering in devils' diſhes.
Child of this world. Yes, with the pious ones, 'tis
clear,
“All's grist that comes to their mill;"
They build their tabernacles here,
On Blocksberg, as on Carmel.
Dancer. Hark! a new choir salutes my ear!
I hear a distant drumming.
“ Be not disturbed! ’mong reeds you hear
The one-toned bitterns bumming.”
Dancing-maſter. How each his legs kicks up and
Aings,
Pulls foot as best he's able!
The clumsy hops, the crooked springs,
'Tis quite disreputable!
Fiddler. The scurvy pack, they hate, 'tis clear,
Like cats and dogs, each other.
Like Orpheus' lute, the bagpipe here
Binds beast to beast as brother.
Dogmatiſt. You'll not scream down my reason,
though,
By criticism's cavils.
The devil's something, that I know,
Else how could there be devils ?
Idealiſt. Ah, phantasy, for once thy sway
FAUST.
2II
Is guilty of high treason.
If all I see is I, to-day,
'Tis plain I've lost my reason.
Realiſt. To me, of all life’s woes and plagues,
Substance is most provoking,
For the first time I feel my legs
Beneath me almost rocking.
Supernaturaliſt. I'm overjoyed at being here,
And even among these rude ones ;
For if bad spirits are, 'tis clear,
There also must be good ones.
Skeptic. Where'er they spy the fame they roam,
And think rich stores to rifle,
Here such as I are quite at home,
For Zweifel rhymnes with Teufel.45
Leader of the music. Grass-hid cricket, frogs in
trees,
You cursed dilettanti !
Fly-snouts and gnats’-noses, peace!
Musicians you, right jaunty!
The Clever ones. Sans-souci we call this band
Of merry ones that ſkip it ;
Unable on our feet to stand,
Upon our heads we trip it.
The Bunglers. Time was, we caught our tit-bits,
too,
God help us now! that's done with!
We've danced our leathers entirely through,
And have only bare soles to run with.
212
FAUST.
Jack-o’lanterns. From the dirty bog we come,
Whence we've just arisen:
Soon in the dance here, quite at home,
As gay young sparks we'll glisten.
Shooting ſtar. Trailing from the ſky I ſhot,
Not a star there missed me :
Crooked up in this grassy spot,
Who to my legs will assist me?
The solid men. Room there! room there! clear
the ground!
Grass-blades well may fall so;
Spirits are we, but ’tis found
They have plump limbs also.
Puck. Heavy men ! do not, I say,
Like elephants' calves go stumping :
Let the plumpest one to-day
Be Puck, the ever-jumping.
Ariel. If the spirit gave, indeed,
If nature gave you, pinions,
Follow up my airy lead
To the rose-dominions !
Orcheſtra [pianissimo]. Gauzy mist and fleecy
cloud
Sun and wind have baniſhed.
Foliage rustles, reeds pipe loud,
All the ſhow has vaniſhed.
FAUST.
213
DREARY DAY.40
Field.
FAUST. MephisTOPHELES.
Fauſt. In wretchedness! In despair! Long
hunted up and down the earth, a miserable fugitive,
and caught at last! Locked up as a malefactor
in prison, to converse with horrible torments—the
sweet, unhappy creature! Even to this pass! even
to this !—Treacherous, worthless spirit, and this thou
hast hidden from me !Stand up here-stand up!
Roll thy deviliſh eyes round grimly in thy head !
Stand and defy me with thy intolerable presence!
Imprisoned! In irretrievable misery! Given over
to evil spirits and to the judgment of unfeeling
humanity, and me meanwhile thou lullest in insipid
dissipations, concealest from me her growing anguiſh,
and leavest her without help to periſh!
Mephiſtopheles. She is not the first!
Fauſt. Dog! abominable monster! Change him,
thou Infinite Spirit! change the worm back into his
canine form, as he was often pleased in the night to
trot before me, to roll before the feet of the harm-
less wanderer, and, when he fell, to hang on his
ſhoulders. Change him again into his favorite ſhape,
that he may crawl before me on his belly in the
214
FAUST.
sand, and that I may tread him under foot, the repro-
bate! Not the first! Misery! Misery! inconceiv-
able by any human soul! that more than one creature
ever sank into the depth of this wretchedness, that
the first in its writhing death-agony did not atone
for the guilt of all the rest before the eyes of the
eternally Forgiving! My very marrow and life are
consumed by the misery of this single one; thou
grinnest away composedly at the fate of thousands !
Mephiſtopheles. Here we are again at our wits'
ends already, where the thread of sense, with you
mortals, snaps ſhort. Why make a partnerſhip with
us, if thou canst not carry it through ? Wilt fly, and
art not proof against dizziness? Did we thrust our-
selves on thee, or thou on us ?
Fauſt. Gnaſh not so thy greedy teeth against
me! It disgusts me !–Great and glorious spirit,
thou that deignedst to appear to me, who knowest
my heart and soul, why yoke me to this ſhame-
fellow, who feeds on mischief and feasts on ruin?
Mephiſtopheles. Hast thou done?
Fauft. Rescue her! Owoe be unto thee !
The most horrible curse on thee for thousands of
years!
Mephiſtopheles. I cannot loose the bonds of the
avenger, nor open his bolts.--Rescue her!—Who
was it that plunged her into ruin? I or thou?
[Faust looks wildly round.]
FAUST.
215
Grasp’st thou after the thunder? Well that it was
not given to you miserable mortals! To cruſh an
innocent respondent, that is a sort of tyrant's-way of
getting room to breathe in embarrassment.
Fauſt. Lead me to her! She ſhall be free!
Mephiſtopheles. And the danger which thou incur-
rest? Know that the guilt of blood at thy hand
still lies upon the town. Over the place of the
ſlain, avenging spirits hover and lurk for the return-
ing murderer.
Fauſt. That, too, from thee? Murder and death
of a world upon thee, monster! Lead me thither, I
say, and free her!
Mephiſtopheles. I will lead thee, and hear what I
can do! Have I all power in heaven and on earth?
I will becloud the turnkey's senses ; possess thyself
of the keys, and bear her out with human hand. I
will watch! The magic horses ſhall be ready, and I
will bear you away. So much I can do.
Fauſt. Up and away!
dium
VI
216
FAUST.
NIGHT. OPEN FIELD.
Faust. MEPHISTOPHELES..
Scudding along on black horses.
Fauſt. What's doing, off there, round the gallows-
tree ? 47
Mephiſtopheles. Know not what they are doing
and brewing.
Fauſt. Up they go down they go—wheel about,
reel about.
Mephiſtopheles. A witches’-crew.
Fauſt. They're strewing and vowing.
Mephiſtopheles. Pass on! Pass on!
poco
II
FAUST.
217
PRISON.
Faust [with a bunch of keys and a lamp, before an iron door].
A long unwonted chill comes o’er me,
I feel the whole great load of human woe.
Within this clammy wall that frowns before me
Lies one whom blinded love, not guilt, brought low!
Thou lingerest, in hope to grow bolder !
Thou fearest again to behold her !
On! Thy ſhrinking ſlowly hastens the blow!
[He grasps the key. Singing from within.]
My mother, the harlot,
That strung me up!
My father, the varlet,
That ate me up!
My sister small,
She gathered up all
The bones that day,
And in a cool place did lay ;
Then I woke, a sweet bird, at a magic call;
Fly away, fly away!
Fauft [unlocking]. She little dreams, her lover is
so near,
The clanking chains, the ruſtling ſtraw can hear.
[He enters.]
Margaret [burying herself in the bed]. Woe! woe!
They come. O death of bitterness !
218
FAUST.
Fauft [softly). Huſh! huſh! I come to free thee;
thou art dreaming.
Margaret (proſtrating herself before him]. Art thou
a man, then feel för my diſtress.
Fauſt. Thou'lt wake the guards with thy loud
screaming!
[He seizes the chains to unlock them.]
Margaret [on her knees]. Headsman, who's given
thee this right
O’er me, this power!
Thou com'ft for me at dead of night;
In pity spare me, one ſhort hour!
Wilt't not be time when Matin bell has rung?
[She stands up.]
Ah, I am yet so young, so young!
And death pursuing!
Fair was I too, and that was my undoing,
My love was near, far is he now!
Torn is the wreath that ſhould have decked my brow.
Take not such violent hold of me!
Spare me! what harm have I done to thee?
Let me not in vain implore thee.
Thou ne'er till now sawſt her who lies before thee!
Fauſt. O sorrow worse than death is o’er me!
Margaret. Now I am wholly in thy power.
But firſt I'd nurse my child—do not prevent me.
I hugged it through the black night hour;
They took it from me to torment me,
FAUST.
219
And now they say I killed the pretty flower.
I ſhall never be happy again, I know.
They sing vile songs at me! 'Tis bad in them to
do it!
There's an old tale that ends juſt so,
Who gave that meaning to it?
Fauſt [proſtrates himself]. A lover at thy feet is
bending,
Thy bonds of misery would be rending.
Margaret (fling's herself beside him]. O let us
kneel, the saints for aid invoking!
See! 'neath the threſhold smoking,
Fire-breathing,
Hell is seething!
There prowling,
And grim under cover,
Satan is howling!
Fauſt [aloud]. Margery! Margery!
Margaret [liſtening]. That was the voice of my
lover!
[She springs up. The chains fall off.]
Where is he? Where? He calls. I hear him.
I'm free! Who hinders? I will be near him.
I'll fly to his neck! I'll hold him!
To my bosom I'll enfold him !
He ſtood on the threſhold-called Margery plainly!
Hell's howling and clattering to drown it sought
vainly, -
220
FAUST.
Through the deviliſh, grim scoffs, that might turn one
to ſtone,
I caught the sweet, loving, enrapturing tone.
Fauſt. 'Tis I!
Margaret. 'Tis thou! O say it once again!
[Clasping again.]
'Tis he! 'tis he! Where now is all my pain ?
And where the dungeon's anguiſh? Joy-giver!
'Tis thou! And come to deliver !
I am delivered!
Again before me lies the ſtreet,
Where for the firſt time thou and I did meet.
And the garden-bower,
Where we spent that evening hour.
Fauſt (trying to draw her away]. Come! Come
with me!
Margaret.
O tarry!
I tarry so gladly where thou tarrieſt.
[Caressing him.]
Fauſt. Hurry!
Unless thou hurrieſt,
Bitterly we both muſt rue it.
Margaret. Kiss me! Canſt no more do it?
So ſhort an absence, love, as this,
And forgot how to kiss ?
What saddens me so as I hang about thy neck?
When once, in thy words, thy looks, such a heaven
of blisses
love
addes. Da to
FAUST.
221
(D
Came o'er me, I thought my heart would break,
And it secmed as if thou wouldſt smother me with
kisses.
Kiss thou me!
Else I kiss thee!
[She embraces him.]
Woe! woe! thy lips are cold,
Stone-dumb.
Where's thy love left?
Oh! I'm bereft!
Who robbed me?
[She turns from him.]
Fauſt.
O come!
Take courage, my darling! Let us go;
I clasp thee with unutterable glow;
But follow me! For this alone I plead!
Margaret (turning to him). Is it, then, thou ?
And is it thou indeed ?
Fauſt. 'Tis I! Come, follow me!
Margaret. Thou break'ſt my chain,
And tak’ſt me to thy breaſt again!
How comes it, then, that thou art not afraid of me?
And doſt thou know, my friend, who 'tis thou set-
teſt free?
• Fauſt. Come! come! The night is on the wane.
Margaret. Woe! woe! My mother I've flain!
Have drowned the babe of mine!
Was it not sent to be mine and thine ?
222
FAUST.
Thine, too 'tis thou! Scarce true doth it seem.
Give me thy hand! 'Tis not a dream!
Thy blessed hand!—But ah! there's dampness here!
Go, wipe it off! I fear
There's blood thereon.
Ah God! what haſt thou done!
Put up thy sword again;
I pray thee, do!
Fauſt. The past is past—there leave it then,
Thou kill'st me too!
Margaret. No, thou must longer tarry!
I'll tell thee how each thou ſhalt bury;
The places of sorrow
Make ready to-morrow;
Must give the best place to my mother,
The very next to my brother,
Me a little aside,
But make not the space too wide!
And on my right breast let the little one lie.
No one else will be ſleeping by me.
Once, to feel thy heart beat nigh me,
Oh, 'twas a precious, a tender joy!
But I ſhall have it no more—no, never ;
I seem to be forcing myself on thee ever,
And thou repelling me freezingly;
And 'tis thou, the same good soul, I see.
Fauſt. If thou feelest ’tis I, then come with me!
Margaret. Out yonder ?
FAUST.
223
Fauſt. Into the open air.
Margaret. If the grave is there,
If death is lurking; then come!
From here to the endless resting-place,
And not another pace-
Thou go'st e’en now? O, Henry, might I too!
Fauſt. Thou canst! 'Tis but to will! The
door stands open.
Margaret. I dare not go ; for me there's no more
hoping.
What use to fly? They lie in wait for me.
So wretched the lot to go round begging,
With an evil conscience thy spirit plaguing!
So wretched the lot, an exile roaming-
And then on my heels they are ever coming!
Fauſt. I ſhall be with thee.
Margaret. Make haste! make haste!
No time to waste!
Save thy poor child!
Quick! follow the edge
Of the ruſhing rill,
Over the bridge
And by the mill,
Then into the woods beyond
On the left where lies the plank
Over the pond.
Seize hold of it quick!
To rise 'tis trying,
224
FAUST.
It struggles still!
Rescue! rescue!
Fauſt. Bethink thyself, pray!
A single step and thou art free!
Margaret. Would we were by the mountain!
See!
There sits my mother on a stone,
The sight on my brain is preying!
There sits my mother on a stone,
And her head is constantly swaying;
She beckons not, nods not, her head falls o’er,
So long she's been ſleeping, she'll wake no more.
She ſlept that we might take pleasure.
O that was bliss without measure!
Fauſt. Since neither reason nor prayer thou
hearest;
I must venture by force to take thee, dearest.
Margaret. Let go! No violence will I bear!
Take not such a murderous hold of me!
I once did all I could to gratify thee.
Fauſt. The day is breaking! Dearest! dearest!
Margaret. Day! Ay, it is day! the last great
day breaks in!
My wedding-day it should have been !
Tell no one thou hast been with Margery!
Alas for my garland! The hour's advancing!
Retreat is in vain!
We meet again,
FAUST.
225
But not at the dancing.
The multitude presses, no word is spoke.
Square, streets, all places-
A sea of faces-
The bell is tolling, the staff is broke.
How they seize me and bind me!
They hurry me off to the bloody block.48
The blade that quivers behind me,
Quivers at every neck with convulsive shock;
Dumb lies the world as the grave!
Fauſt. O had I ne'er been born!
Mephiſtopheles [appears without]. Up! or thou’rt
lost! The morn
Flushes the ſky.
Idle delaying! Praying and playing!
My horses are neighing,
They shudder and snort for the bound.
Margaret. What's that, comes up from the ground?
He! He! Avaunt! that face!
What will he in the sacred place?
He seeks me!
Fauſt. Thou shalt live!
Margaret. Great God in heaven!
Unto thy judgment my soul have I given!
Mephiſtopheles [to Fauſt]. Come! come! or in
the lurch I leave both her and thee!
Margaret. Thine am I, Father! Rescue me!
Ye angels, holy bands, attend me!
15
226
FAUST.
And camp around me to defend me!
Henry! I dread to look on thee.
Mephiſtopheles. She's judged!
Voice [ from above]. She's saved !
Mephiſtopheles [to Fauft]. Come thou to me!
[Vanishes with Faust.]
Voice [ from within, dying away]. Henry! Henry!

NOTES.
1 DEDICATION. The idea of Fauſt had early entered into
Goethe's mind. He probably began the work when he was
about twenty years old. It was firſt published, as a fragment,
in 1790, and did not appear in its present form till 1808, when
its author's age was nearly sixty. By the “forms” are meant,
of course, the shadowy personages and scenes of the drama.
2 _" Thy messengers”—
“He maketh the winds his messengers,
The flaming lightnings his miniſters."
Noyes's Psalms, c. iv. 4.
3« The Word Divine.” In translating the German “ Wer-
dende” (literally, the becoming, developing, or growing) by the
term word, I mean the word in the largeſt sense : “ In the
beginning was the Word, &c.” Perhaps “nature ” would be
a pretty good rendering, but “word,” being derived from
“ werden,” and expressing philosophically and scripturally the
going forth or manifeſtation of mind, seemed to me as appro-
priate a translation as any.
466 The old fellow." The commentators do not seem quite
agreed whether “ den Alten ”' (the old one) is an entirely rever-
ential phrase here, like the “ ancient of days,” or savors a little
of profane, pleasantry, like the title " old man " given by boys
to their schoolmaſter or of " the old gentleman ” to their fathers.
(227)
228
NOTES.
Considering who the speaker is, I have naturally inclined to the
latter alternative.
5 “ Noſtradamus” (properly named Michel Notre Dame)
lived through the firſt half of the sixteenth century. He was
born in the south of France and was of Jewish extraction. As
physician and aſtrologer, he was held in high honor by the French
nobility and kings.
6 The “ Macrocosm ” is the great world of outward things,
in contraſt with its epitome, the little world in man, called the
microcosm (or world in miniature).
7.“ Famulus " seems to mean a cross between a servant and
a scholar. The Dominie Sampson called Wagner, is appended
to Fauſt for the time somewhat as Sancho is to Don Quixote.
The Doctor Fauſt of the legend has a servant by that name,
who seems to have been more of a Sancho, in the sense given to
the word by the old New England mothers when upbraiding
bad boys (you Sanch'!). Curiously enough, Goethe had in
early life a (treacherous) friend named Wagner, who plagia-
rized part of Fauſt and made a tragedy of it.
8" Mock-heroic play.” We have Schlegel's authority for
thus rendering the phrase “ Haupt- und Staats-Action,” (liter-
ally, “ head and State-action,”) who says that this title was
given to dramas designed for puppets, when they treated of
heroic and hiſtorical subjects.
9 The literal sense of this couplet in the original is: —
“ Is he, in the bliss of becoming,
To creative joy near—".
- Werde-luſt” presents the same difficulty that we found in
note 3. This same word, “ Werden,” is also used by the poet
in the introductory theatre scene (page 7), where he longs for
the time when he himself was ripening, growing, becoming, or
forming, (as Hayward renders it.) I agree with Hayward,
NOTES.
229
“the meaning probably is, that our Saviour enjoys, in coming
to life again,” (I should say, in being born into the upper life,)
“ a happiness nearly equal to that of the Creator in creating.”
10 The Angel-chorusses in this scene present the only in-
ſtances in which the translator, for the sake of retaining the ring
and swing of the melody, has felt himself obliged to give a
transfusion of the spirit of the thought, inſtead of its exact form.
The literal meaning of the firſt chorus is :-
Chriſt is arisen!
Joy to the Mortal,
Whom the ruinous,
Creeping, hereditary
Infirmities wound round.
Dr. Hedge has come nearer than any one to reconciling
meaning and melody thus:-
“ Chriſt has arisen!
· Joy to our buried Head !
Whom the unmerited,
Trailing, inherited
Woes did imprison.”
The present translator, without losing sight of the fact that
“ the Mortal ” means Chriſt, has taken the liberty (conſtrained
by rhyme,—which is sometimes more than the rudder of verse,)
of making the congratulation include Humanity, as incarnated
in Chriſt, “ the second Adam.”
In the closing Chorus of Angels, the translator found that he
could beſt preserve the spirit of the five-fold rhyme :-
“ Thätig ihn preisenden,
Liebe beweisenden,
Brüderlich speisenden,
230
NOTES.
Predigend reisenden,
Wonne verheissenden,”
by running it into three couplets.
1 The prose account of the alchymical process is as fol-
lows :-
“ There was red mercury, a powerfully acting body, united
with the tincture of antimony, at a gentle heat of the water-
bath. Then, being exposed to the heat of open fire in an
aludel, (or alembic,) a sublimate filled its heads in succession,
which, if it appeared with various hues, was the desired medi-
cine."
12 « Salamander, &c.” The four represent the spirits of
the four elements, fire, water, air, and earth, which Fauſt suc-
cessively conjures, so that, if the monſter belongs in any respect
to this mundane sphere, he may be exorcized. But it turns out
that he is beyond and beneath all.
13 Here, of course, Fauſt makes the sign of the cross, or holds
out a crucifix.
14 « Fly-God," i. e. Beelzebub.
15 The “ Drudenfuss,” or pentagram, was a pentagonal figure
composed of three triangles, thus :

16 Doctor's Feait. The inaugural feaſt given at taking a de.
gree.
17 « Blood.” When at the firſt invention of printing, the art
was ascribed to the devil, the illuminated red ink parts were
said by the people to be done in blood.
18 - The Spanish boot” was an inſrument of torture, like the
Scottish boot mentioned in Old Mortality.
NOTES.
231
19 « Encheiresin Naturæ.” Literally, a handling of nature.
20 Still a famous place of public resort and entertainment.
On the wall are two old paintings of Fauſt's carousal and his
ride out of the door on a caſk. One is accompanied by the fol-
lowing inscription, being two lines (Hexameter and Pentameter)
broken into halves :-
“ Vive, bibe, obgregare, memor .
Fauſti hujus et hujus
Pænæ. Aderat clauda haec,
Aft erat ampla gradů. 1525.”
“ Live, drink, be merry, remembering
This Fauſt and his
Punishment. It came slowly
But was in ample measure.”
21 Frosch, Brander, &c. These names seem to be chosen
with an eye to adaptation, Frosch meaning frog, and Brander
fireship. “Frog” happens also to be the nickname the ſtudents
give to a pupil of the gymnasium, or school preparatory to the
university.
22 Rippach is a village near Leipsic, and Mr. Hans was a
fictitious personage about whom the ſtudents used to quiz green-
horns.
23 The original means literally sea-cat. Retzsch says, it is
the little ring-tailed monkey.
24 One-time-one, i. e. multiplication-table.
25 - Hand and glove." The translator's coincidence with
Miss Swanwick here was entirely accidental. The German is
“thou and thou,” alluding to the fact that intimate friends
among the Germans, like the sect of Friends, call each other
thou.
26 The following is a literal translation of the song referred
to:-
232
NOTES.
Were I a little bird,
Had I two wings of mine,
I'd fly to my dear;
But that can never be,
So I ſtay here.
Though I am far from thee,
Sleeping I'm near to thee,
Talk with my dear ;
When I awake again,
I am alone.
Scarce is there an hour in the night,
When sleep does not take its flight,
And I think of thee,
How many thousand times
Thou gav'it thy heart to me.
27 Donjon. The original is Zwinger, which Hayward says
is untranslatable. It probably means an old tower, such as is
often found in the free cities, where, in a dark passage-way, a
lamp is sometimes placed, and a devotional image near it.
28 It was a superſtitious belief that the presence of buried
treasure was indicated by a blue filame.
29 Lion-dollars--a Bohemian coin, firſt minted three centuries
ago, by Count Schlick, from the mines of Joachim's-Thal.
The one side bears a lion, the other a full length image of St.
John.
30 An imitation of Ophelia's song: Hamlet, act 14, scene 5.
31 The Rat-catcher was supposed to have the art of drawing
rats after him by his whiſtle, like a sort of Orpheus.
32 Walpurgis Night. May-night. Walpurgis is the female
saint who converted the Saxons to Chriſtianity.—The Brocken
or Blocksberg is the higheſt peak of the Harz mountains, which
NOTES.
233
comprise about 1350 square miles.--Schirke and Elend are two
villages in the neighborhood.
33 Shelley's translation of this couplet is very fine: (“O si sic
omnia !”).
“The giant-snouted crags, ho! ho !
How they snort and how they blow!”
94 The original is Windsbraut, (wind's-bride,) the word used
Luther's Bible to translate Paul's Euroclydon.
35 One of the names of the devil in Germany.
36 One of the names of Beelzebub.
37 « The Talmudiſts say that Adam had a wife called Lilis
before he married Eve, and of her he begat nothing but devils.”
Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy.
A learned writer says that Lullaby is derived from “ Lilla,
abi ! ” “ Begone Lilleth !” she having been supposed to lie
in wait for children to kill them.
38 This name, derived from two Greek words meaning rump
and fancy, was meant for Nicolai of Berlin, a great hater of
Goethe's writings, and is explained by the fact that the man had
for a long time a violent affection of the nerves, and by the
application he made of leeches as a remedy, (alluded to by
Mephiſtopheles.)
39 Tegel (mistranslated pond by Shelley) is a small place a few
miles from Berlin, whose inhabitants were, in 1799, hoaxed by a
ghoſt ſtory, of which the scene was laid in the former place.
40 The park in Vienna.
41 He was scene-painter to the Weimar theatre.
42 A poem of Schiller's, which gave great offence to the
religious people of his day.
B A literal translation of Maulen, but a slang-term in Yankee
land.
44 Epigrams, published from time to time by Goethe and
Schiller jointly. Hennings (whose name heads the next quat-
234
NOTES.
rain) was editor of the Musaget, (a title of Apollo, “ leader of
the muses,”) and also of the Genius of the Age. The other
satirical allusions to classes of notabilities will, without difficulty,
be guessed out by the readers.
45 - Doubt is the only rhyme for devil,” in German.
46 The French translator, Stapfer, assigns as the probable
reason why this scene alone, of the whole drama, should have
been left in prose, “ that it might not be said that Fauſt wanted
any one of the possible forms of style.”
47 Literally the raven-ſtone.
48 The blood-seat, in allusion to the old German cuſtom of
tying a woman, who was to be beheaded, into a wooden chair.
P. S. There is a passage on page 84, the speech of Fauſt,
ending with the lines:
Show me the fruit that, ere it's plucked, will rot,
And trees from which new green is daily peeping,
which seems to have puzzled or misled so much, not only
English translators, but even German critics, that the present
translator has concluded, for once, to depart from his usual
course, and play the commentator, by giving his idea of
Goethe's meaning, which is this : Faust admits that the devil
has all the different kinds of Sodom-apples which he has just
enumerated, gold that melts away in the hand, glory that
vanishes like a meteor, and pleasure that perishes in the posses-
sion. But all these torments are too insipid for Faust's morbid
and mad hankering after the luxury of spiritual pain. Show
me, he says, the fruit that rots before one can pluck it, and [a
still stronger expression of his diseased craving for agony) trees
that fade so quickly as to be every day just putting forth new.
green, only to tantalize one with perpetual promise and per-
petual disappointment.
*
45.11
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