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GOFTHE
FAUST
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VERITAS
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SCIENTIA
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FAUST: A TRAGEDY
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BY
GOETHE
TRANSLATED IN RIME
by
C. KEGAN PAUL
HENRY S. KING & Co.
65 CORNHILL & I 2
PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
1873
14
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(All rights reserved)
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TO THE
ļ
3
REV. CHARLES OLD GOODFORD, D.D.
PROVOST OF ETON
LATION
THIS TRANSLATION IS DEDICATED
1
BECAUSE
BECAUSE HE FIRST, AND MORE THAN ANY OTHER,
ANY OTHER, TAUGHT THE
TRANSLATOR TO VALUE LITERATURE AND TO STRIVE
AFTER MENTAL CULTURE
!
THE PROVOST MAY FIND IT WANTING IN HIS OWN ACCURATE
J
SCHOLARSHIP, BUT IT WILL AT ANY RATE SERVE TO MANIFEST
THE AFFECTION AND GRATITUDE OF AN OLD PUPIL
BAILIE
Nov. 5, 1872
PREFACE.
1
THE present translation of the First Part of 'Faust'
may seem to need a few words of preface.
It is one more attempt to show that poems in lan-
guages so intimately related as German and English
may be rendered very closely each into the sister
tongue; that the form, perhaps even more than the
spirit, may be in great measure preserved.
Since my
own translation was completed I have read all other
versions I could find, and see that none of them follows
precisely the same rules I had laid down for myself:
it seems, therefore, still worth while to send forth my
own experiment, simply stating what those rules have
been.
The metres are the same, or nearly the same, as in
the original; the rimes follow the same order; each
speech, paragraph, and song consists of the same
number of lines as the German.
It is not, however, meant that within the same metres
a slavishly exact reproduction of quantity or accent
vi
PREFACE.
J
is desirable, even if possible. But no other liberty has
been taken than was permissible even in some of the
rigid measures of antiquity, which are not perceptibly
varied by the substitution of one foot for another.
Between a dactylic hexameter and a spondaic there
is an essential variation, but there is no essential varia-
tion between two hexameters of dactyls and spondees
combined in different order; there is none between two
iambic lines not wholly composed of iambic feet.
The double rimes which end so many lines in the
original are not so frequent in the translation. For
this there is a twofold reason: such rimes are used
but sparingly in good English poetry, though they
are a distinct feature in all German verse; their use
leads to the employment of words which belong
rather to the Romance than to the Teutonic side of our
language to that side, therefore, which should least
be employed in rendering a German poem.
Neither this nor any translation can do more than
show as through a veil of mist the majesty and grace of
Goethe's drama. There are those who by long study
of the poem have attained to live in that shadowy
realm of fancy wherein Gretchen and Faust, nay even
Mephistopheles, become living beings as real as Hamlet
or Romeo-and far more real than many a pretentious
historic phantasm.
If this version shall bring any

PREFACE.
vii
among those who may read it into the borders of
that spirit land; if, through a chance rift in the mist,
the depths beyond of gloom and glory be at all re-
vealed, so that the readers study the drama for them-
selves, the translator will have gained his end, and
his delightful labour of love will not have been lost.
Bailie, November 5, 1872.
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DEDICATION.
- As once ye passed before my troubled sight
Again ye near me forms who come and go!
Shall I attempt to-day to clasp you tight?
Feel my heart bent to each delusive show?
Ye press me close! So be it; put forth your might,
Who out of cloud and vapour round me grow ;
The magic breath which waves about your train
Brings youthful tremors to my breast again.
Ye bring the pictures of a happier time,
Many dear shadowy visions round me move;
And like an old and half-recited rime,
Friendship returns with you and early love;
And pain grows fresh, my grief renews the prime
Of life perplexed like labyrinthine grove,
Naming those dear ones, who, in fair days done,
Found not the joys they hoped for, and are gone.
But those sweet souls for whom I piped my song,
Now cannot hear the tunes which I shall sing;
That friendly company has vanished long,
Stilled is that echc which was wont to ring.
B
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DEDICATION.
i
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My notes resound amid a stranger throng,
Their words of praise can only sadness bring;
If still they live who joyed to hear my lays,
The world has scattered them down distant ways.
A yearning grasps me, strange for many a year,
After that still and solemn spirit land;
My lisping song, whose tones you vaguely hear,
Floats like Æolian-harp, and, as a hand,
A terror seizes me, tear follows tear,
My heart, once strong, is weak and all unmanned;
What I possess, as though far off I see,
And vanished times alone are real to me.
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PROLOGUE IN THE THEATRE.
MANAGER. DRAMATIC POET. CLOWN.
MANAGER.
You two, who oftentimes when need
And sorrow came have stood by me,
Tell me, how here in Germany
You think our project will succeed.
I wish indeed to please the populace,
Because they live and let live: now the planks
And posts are knocked together; in their place
They look to be amused with festive pranks.
They sit already with wide-opened eyes,
Expecting till a wonder shall arise.
I can, if any, suit the people's taste:
But ne'er have been so much discomfited.
They have not had the best before them placed,
And yet alarming quantities have read.
How shall we plan that all be fresh and new?
That a pleased interest wait on what we do?
For then indeed I like to see the mob,
B 2
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FAUST.
When to our booth the stream sets in apace,
And, with a mighty effort for the job,
Crowds through the narrow needle's-eye of grace ;
In broad daylight, e'er clocks tell four,
Shouldering each other at the wicket,
As in the time of dearth before the baker's door
For bread, they'd break their necks to get a ticket.
Poets alone so various men can sway,
Work then thy wonder, Poet-friend, to-day!
POET.
O bid me not to crowds attune my song,
Beneath their gaze fades fast each poet-dream!
Hide me away from that confuséd throng
Which draws us struggling in its whirling stream;
Nay, lead to quiet nooks of heaven; there belong
Pure joys which can for poets only beam,
Where love and friendship with our heart's bliss fraught,
God-handed tend whate'er themselves have wrought.
Ah! all that rises deep within the breast,
Whate'er is faltered by the trembling tongue,
Perchance succeeds, or still-born lies at rest,
By force of some wild moment overflung.
And yet, if through the years it may have pressed,
It has in perfect majesty upsprung:
What glitters lives a moment, then must die;
The True, undying, waits futurity.
CLOWN.
Let me not hear about this future day!
Suppose I talk about this future, say
!
་
FAUST.
Who shall amuse the hour that is?
Amusement every man must have;
The presence of a motley knave
Contributes, as it seems, to this.
He who can write to please need never dread
The changeful humour of the crowded pit ;
Would have the largest audience round him spread,
To move it all the more by wit.
Be then a pattern for us, and be bold;
Let Fancy come with all her tragic train-
Reason, Sense, Feeling, Passion-but I hold
Without a little Folly all is vain.
MANAGER.
1
But action above all's the thing for me!
They come to wonder and they come to see.
Unroll long canvasses before their sight,
So that the mob can only gape and grin,
And from the very size they think you right,
You are the man all hearts to win,
The masses only by a mass you move,
Who offers much, to each man offers some,
Each for himself may take, if aught he love,
And go contented from the playhouse home.
You give a Piece, then give it piece by piece,
Such a ragoût is sure to please;
Easily served, as easily as thought,
All else is vain, the whole which you have wrought
The public picks to pieces at its ease.
11
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FAUST.
1
POET.
Ye do not feel how base such work is made,
How each true artist must disdain your rules,
Who count as patterns for your trade
The prentice-work of gentle fools.
MANAGER.
}
On me reproaches such as these lie light:
The man, who wills to work aright,
Must take what tools are best for it.
Reflect, 'tis yours weak wood alone to split,
And see for whom your rimes you dress!
Men over-tired with idleness,
Drowsy and dull with after-dinner vapours,
And, what gives me the most distress,
They almost all have read but now the papers.
As to a masquerade for dissipation
They haste to us, and wonder wings their way;
The ladies, smartly dressed, who take their station,
Unsalaried, are half the play.
What are you dreaming on your poet-height?
Why is a houseful meed enough?
Bring our patrons close in sight,
And half are careless, half are rough;
One when the play is over thinks of cards,
!
One a wild night on harlot-bosom chooses;
O Fools, when such are your rewards,
Why weary out the kindly Muses?
1
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FAUST.
7
I tell you bring them more, and more for ever,
So only can your end be wrought,
Seek only how men may be caught.
Can you content them, think you?
Never!
But what's the matter with you? Rapture? Pain?
POET.
Go seek elsewhere to find yourself a slave:
For Mother Nature to the poet gave
A highest right, inherent right of man:
Shall he neglect, at thy desire, this gain?
How may he then all hearts enchain?
How bring each element within his plan ?
Is it not those accords which out his bosom roll,
Whose tones blot out the world within his soul?
When Nature reels the eternal threads of life
On her great distaff, twining all in one,
When all her creatures, in discordant strife,
Each through the other's being fuse and run;
Who takes their like successions as they roll,
Quickens, and parts them into rhythmic row?
Who calls each unit to the sacred whole,
That all the mighty chords may wake and grow?
Who lets the storm of passion wax and lower?
Who soothes the serious mind with evening's red?
Who in the spring-tide sheds each fairest flower
To fall before the dear one's tread?
Weaves to a garland green leaves valueless,
Thus to encrown each fair desert and show it?
!
8
FAUST
Со
Makes firm the heaven, brings Gods within its stress?
The might of man, incarnate in thee, Poet.
CLOWN.
Well! use it then, this famous might,
Transact your poet-trade aright,
As any man his love adventures may!
You meet by chance, are pleased, and so you stay ;
And by degrees you're implicated,
The heart grows joyous, then is agitated ;
You are enchanted; next there enter cares—
A whole romance steals on you unawares.
So let us then our Drama plan!
Search all the depths within the life of man!
For human life has few who know it,
The interest lies in how you show it;
Confused ideas for clearness trying,
A spark of truth in error lying;
'Tis so the richest drink is brewed
By which the world is freshened and renewed.
'Tis then the fairest flowers of youth are brought
To see your play, and list the tale you tell ;
Then from your work each all too tender thought
Sucks the sad nurture which it loves so well:
Your play can this or that to each impart,
Each only sees the image of his heart;
They all at once prepare to laugh or cry,
[see;
They honour the attempt; delight your show to
Who may the man full ripe e'er satisfy?
The growing with their thanks are always free.
FAUST.
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POET.
Then give me back the vanished time,
When I myself was young in blood,
And when a fount of thronging rime
Poured forth itself in ceaseless flood;
When clouds veiled all the years to come,
Each bud gave pledge of wondrous life,
And when I pulled each richest bloom
With which a thousand dales were rife,
I wanted naught, though naught I had,
I yearned for truth, illusion made me glad.
Each eager impulse re-create,
Each joy so keen, so full of pain,
The power of love, the might of hate;
Oh, give me back my youth again!
CLOWN.
Youth, my good friend, perhaps you want,
If fighting foes about you throng,
If on your neck sweet maidens pant
With arms which clasp you close and long;
If from the goal so hard to win,
The garlands in the distance shine,
If in the dance you cease to spin
And drown the night's long hours in wine.
To strike the well-known string, that glows
With fire and pleasure while you sing,
Towards a self-appointed close,
To tend through each sweet wandering;
}
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FAUST.
That is your task, old men, to-day,
And we esteem, you therefore none the less.
Age brings not second childhood, as they say;
It finds true children in another dress.
MANAGER.
Enough of words between you two,
Some deeds at last I wish to see!
While compliments fly to and fro,
No useful thing can ever be.
Don't say you are not in the mood,
For humour every laggard flies;
To those who choose all time is good,
You are a poet—poetise.
You know precisely where you stand,
A good strong drink is our demand,
So brew it me without delay!
'Tis best that we begin to-morrow's work to-day;
Time, broken once, is hard to mend,
The Will should fix on what May be;
Whose crest once grasped can only bend,
Nor should it let it's prize go free,
But work, perforce, towards the end.
You know, before our German scenes
Each one attempts whate'er he may;
And, therefore, spare me not to-day
Your scenery or stage-machines!
Lavish the stars, use moonlight glow,
The noon-tide radiance freely mock;
Bring flood, and fire, and walls of rock,
#
FAUST.
I I
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And beast and bird, to help the show.
Display within this narrow boarded place
The great creation's circled space,
And bring with swiftly careful change
Heaven, earth, and hell within your range.
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FAUST.
*
PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN.
THE LORD. THE HEAVENLY HOST, afterwards
MEPHISTOPHELES.-
The Three Archangels advance.
RAPHAEL.
THE sun makes music as of
yore
To vie with all his brother spheres,
And down his courses fixed before
In crashing thunder disappears.
His look gives all the angels power,
Though none within his depth can gaze,
And, as in their creation-hour,
Most good are all his works and ways.
GABRIEL.
And swifter than the mind can know
The earth pursues her circling flight,
And all the crystal heaven's glow
Alternates with the deep dread night.
In broad-foamed floods against the crag
The sea uprears its gathered force,
And rocks and seas the planets drag
Within their swift eternal course.
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FAUST.
13
MICHAEL.
And storms, contending, wildly spring
From deep to land, from land to deep,
To form in wrath a mighty ring,
And clasp the world within their sweep.
In ruin flames the lightning sword,
Where'er the storm-cloud takes its way;
Yet these thine angels honour, Lord,
The softest changes of Thy day.
THE THREE.
Thy look gives all the angels power,
Though none within Thy depth can gaze;
And, as in their creation-hour
Most good are all Thy works and ways.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Since now to ask us how we all may fare,
Thou, gracious Lord, dost visit us again,
Since Thou, of old, wert pleased to see me there,
I come once more among this menial train.
Pardon, I cannot speak in courtly phrase;
If this assembly should deride me now,
My pathos would Thy laughter serve to raise,
Hadst Thou not banished laughter from Thy brow.
I know not how to talk of worlds and suns,
I only see how human suffering runs.
The little God o' the world continues in one stay,
As wondrous now as on his earliest day,
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FAUST.
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He might have kept himself more right
Had'st Thou ne'er shown to him a glimpse of
heaven's light.
He calls it Reason, but; Thou seest,
Its use but makes him beastlier than the beast.
He seems your Grace forgives the simile-
Like any long-legged grasshopper to me,
Who ever flies, and flying springs,
Then in the grass again his note he sings,
Nor lying in the grass will take repose—
In every filth he needs must poke his nose.
THE LORD.
Hast thou to me no more to say?
Complainest thou again to-day?
Is all that is on earth still wrong for thee?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
'Tis now, Lord, as of old, no place of mirth for me.
I pity men so much in all their days of woe,
I've not myself the heart to plague them so.
THE LORD.
Know'st thou my servant Faust?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The Doctor?
THE LORD.
He!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Forsooth! he serves Thee in a wondrous fashion.
The fool is driven by an inward passion,
FAUST.
15
No meats of earth his banquets are;
Yet half can he his folly measure ; ·
From heaven he asks each fairest star;
From earth he asks each highest pleasure;
Yet all of near and all of far
Bring his unrestful breast nor peace nor leisure.
THE LORD.
Though now he serve me in a maze of doubt,
Yet I will lead him soon where all is clear.
The gardener knows, when first the bushes sprout,
That bloom and fruit will deck the riper year.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
What wilt Thou wager? Thou shalt lose him still
If Thou wilt only give me favour
To lead him gently down the hill.
THE LORD.
I do not hinder thee at all;
So long as on the earth he tread,
While he aspires, man may fall.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I thank The then, for with the dead
I ne'er have thought my business lies ;
I mainly love full rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes.
I care not on a corpse to make my prey,
As puss with living mice alone will play.
THE LORD.
Be it with him as thou shalt please,
Divert his spirit from its ancient source,
16:
FAUST.
And lead him, him if thou canst seize,
With thee along thy downward course;
See thy mistake; begin with shame to say,
A righteous man, however sore beset,
Is always conscious of the better way.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Right good! It is not long to wait,
Nor do I fear at all to lose my bet.
And if I should my object get,
Then grant me triumph without measure:
I'll make him eat dust, and with pleasure; [yet.
My cousin did, the well-known snake, and does it.
THE LORD.
Thou mayest always come at will;
I never hate thy like or thee.
Of all irreverent spirits of ill,
The rogue's least burthensome to me.
Man's store' of energy is soon outrur,
Too soon he grows in love with indolence;
Therefore I give him as a comrade one,
A devil, who works exciting every sense.
But ye, true sons of highest God,
Joy in the beauty round you like a food,
Let that great Nature which aye works and is
Encompass you within the bonds of love;
And if aught seems to be, and vanishes,
Fix it within your thought, no more to move.
(Heaven closes. The Archangels disperse.)
FAUST.
17
MEPHISTOPHELES (alone).
I'm glad to see the Old One, on my word,
'Must keep the acquaintance, and be civil;
'Tis mighty pretty in so great a Lord
To speak humanely to the very devil.
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FAUST.
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FIRST PART OF THE TRAGEDY.
NIGHT.
In a high-vaulted, narrow Gothic chamber, FAUST, restlessly seate
at his desk.
i
FAUST.
I HAVE, alas! philosophy,
Science of law and medicine-
And, woe is me !-theology,
With eager diligence made mine.
Yet here I stand, one fool the more!
No wiser than I was before;
They call me Master, call me Doctor too,
And up and down, these ten years through,
By winding paths, where'er I chose,
I've led my scholars by the nose-
And only see our ignorance,
Eating my heart in impotence.
Fools! Yet am I wiser than all the rest,
Doctor, or master, or clerk, or priest;
Neither scruples nor doubts alarm me,
Neither hell nor devil can harm me-
But joy is rent away from me,
The right I cannot hope to see,
FAUST.
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I do not hope I can ever show,
What will make men better, and keep them so.
And I have neither wealth nor worth,
Honour, nor lordliness of earth.
No dog would in this fashion live!
To sorcery myself I give,
That Spirits' power and mouth may show
To me the secrets that they know ;
No more will I with sweat advance,
As though 'twere science, ignorance,
But I will know what 'tis that holds
The world within its inmost folds,
May see all force in spring and deed,
Nor more this wordy trifling need.
Oh, full moon-light, didst thou but see,
For this last time my misery,
For I through many midnight skies.
From this my desk have watched thee rise:
When thou o'er books and papers here,
Friend of the weary, didst appear!
O! might I on the hills above
Walk compassed by thy light of love,
Round hill-side caverns sport with shadows,
Rove in thy twilight o'er the meadows,
And bathe myself to health anew,
From pains of knowledge in thy dew!
Ah! must I in this prison dwell?
A cursed, dull, and close-walled cell!
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FAUST.
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Where heaven's light can scarcely gain
Sad passage through the painted pane.
Hemmed in by all this heap of books-
Till e'en the vaulted roof is gained—
Worm-eaten, dusty, while the nooks.
Are full of papers, smoke bestained;
And phials, boxes, round each wall,
With instruments are closely jammed,
Here old-world furniture is crammed-
Is that thy world-a world at all?
And dost thou ask why, sad, thy heart
Finds scanty room within thy breast?
Or why a vague and hidden smart
Has all thy energies repressed?
Instead of all the natural force,
Wherewith God gave man's being breath,
These skeletons, this withered corse,
Surround thee with the dust of death.
Up! fly! and seek the wider land!
This book of secret mystery,
Written by Nostradamus' hand,
Shall guide enough and guardian be.
Stars in their courses shalt thou know,
Nature shall all her stores unroll,
And all the Spirits' power shall flow,
As soul can answer unto soul.
In vain; no mere dull thinking here,
The holy sign will serve to read ;

FAUST.
21
If ye can hearken, hovering near ;
Oh, answer, Spirits, in my need!
(He opens the book, and sees the sign of the Macrocosm.)
Ha! while I gaze, at once across my brain
Flows the swift bliss; again, again I know
That, as in youth, through every nerve and vein
Life's sacred fires of joy revive and glow.
Was he a God who traced each mystic mark,
That stills my hidden deep unrest,
That fills with joy my troubled breast,
And drives from out the secret dark
The powers of Nature round to stand confessed?
Am I a God? For bright as day,
In these clear drawings spring to light,
Nature in all her work before my inward sight.
Now know I what the wise ones say:
The Spirit world keeps open door ;
Thy sense is closed; thy heart is dead!
Up, scholar, steep for evermore
Thine earthly breast in morning's red!'
(He gazes on the sign.)
How each to make the whole is weaving,
Each in the other moving, living!
How powers of heaven pass to and fro,
And reach the golden vessels so!
Exhaling blessings as they spring
From heaven to earth on waving wing,
And all their sounds in concert ring!
A wondrous show! but ah! 'tis only show!
Nature etern, thy visions fade and go!
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FAUST.
Where are thy breasts, great mother? Founts of life
To which both heaven and earth are pressed,
Whereon the exhausted heart would rest-
In vain ye stream for me with nurture rife!
(He turns the page unwillingly, and sees the sign of the Earth
Spirit.)
There comes quite other influence from this sign!
Earth Spirit, thou hast more in me ;
I feel that all my force is free,
I glow as if with draughts of wine,
Now am I brave, forth in the world to fare,
All earthly woe, all earthly joy to bear,
Eager to rush, where storms the welkin tear,
E'en in the wreck of all things all to dare.
A cloud is over me-
The moon conceals her light-
The lamp expires!
1
A mist is rising! Red rays beam
About my head; there moves
A horror from the vaulted roof,
And clutches me!
Spirit, whom I invoke, how near thou art.
Reveal thyself!
There is a tumult in my heart!
With each new feeling
My senses all are reeling !
I feel my heart has forth to meet thee fled !
Thou shalt, thou shalt, though thou shouldst strike
me dead.
(He seizes the book, and speaks mysteriously the sign of the Spirit.
A red flame rises, and the Spirit appears in the flame.)

FAUST.
23
Who calls me ?
SPIRIT.
FAUST (turning away).
Oh, sight of fear!
SPIRIT.
Strongly hast thou drawn me nigh,
Sucked by prayer from spheres on high,
Now-
FAUST.
Ah! I cannot bear thee near!
SPIRIT.
Thou didst crave eagerly to see me,
To look on mine aspect, to hearken my voice;
Thy soul's desire o'erbore my choice,
I am here; why now dost flee me?
Thou who art more than other men that die!
Where is the breast that made its world within? The
cry
Of soul, which swelled with eager joy, and strove
In equal place with us the Spirits to move?
Where art thou, Faust, whose voice rang out to me?
Whose being rushed to meet me forcefully?
Art thou that Faust, who shrinking from my breath,
Tremblest till life seems passing into death?
A frightened cowering worm !
FAUST.
Spectre of Flame, shall I then yield to thee?
Yes, I am Faust; thine equal see.
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FAUST.
SPIRIT.
In life's full flood, and in action's storm,
Up and down I wave;
To and fro I sweep!
Birth and the grave,
An eternal deep,
A tissue flowing,
A life all glowing,
So I weave at the rattling loom of the years,
The garment of life which the Godhead wears.
FAUST.
Oh, thou who round the wide world wendest,
Creator Spirit, how near I feel to Thee!
SPIRIT.
Thou art like the spirit whom thou comprehendest,
"
Not me!
Not thee?
(He vanishes.)
FAUST (rushing forward).
Whom then?'
1
I, image of the Godhead!
Not even like to thee!
:
(Knocking.)
FAUST.
O death, I know; there knocks my clerk; all joy
So fair he comes to render nought!
And what the magic vision wrought
This grovelling dullard will destroy !
:
FAUST.
25
1
Enter WAGNER, in dressing-gown and night-cap, a lamp in his
hand. FAUST turns round reluctantly.
WAGNER.
Pardon! I heard your declamation ;
No doubt 'tis Greck, some tragic dialogue,
And I would wish to profit by the occasion,
These studies now are much in vogue.
I oft have heard it said, 'The preacher
May even have an actor for his teacher.'
FAUST.
Yes, if the preacher's part be acted,
E'en this from time to time may chance to be.
WAGNER.
Ah! if within one's study walls contracted,
One scarce on holidays the world can see,
As through a telescope, from far away;
Can such an one by mere persuasion sway?
FAUST.
Unless you feel, you never can prevail ;
Unless your words from out your soul
Spring, with a force which cannot fail,
And all your hearers' hearts controul.
Glue things together, ever sit,
And make from others' meals a hash,
And blow the spark which scarce is lit
To burn within your heap of ash!
Children and apes may take their fill
Of wonder, if 'tis these you seek,
26.
FAUST..
But heart to heart will never thrill
Unless from inmost heart you speak.
WAGNER.
'Tis elocution carries speakers through;
I feel it, though I still have much to do.
1
FAUST.'
Then go and seek an honest gain!
Be not a fool with bells and hood,
For common sense and steady brain
With little art, are understood;
And if you speak with earnest mind,
You need not hunt your words to find.
Yes! your orations meant to dazzle, full
|
Of language decked for men with twists and twirls,
Can quicken naught like wind fog-laden, dull,
Which through the withered leaves in autumn whirls!
WAGNER.
Ah God! how long is Art,
How soon it is we die.
Oft when my critic-task I ply,
How weary grow both head and heart.
'Tis hard to win by strenuous strife
The means by which the fount is gained!
And even before the half-way is attained,
Poor devils ! 'tis over with our life.´
FAUST.
A parchment roll! is that the sacred rill
}
Shall pour a drink to fully shake thy thirst?
FAUST.
27
Fresh life can ne'er thy being fill,
Save from thy soul the living waters burst.
WAGNER.
Your pardon! 'Tis a vast delight
To learn the spirit of the ages right,
To see what long before our time the wise have thought,
Which we can wider spread, to full perfection brought.
FAUST.
Oh yes, as wide as heaven's shore !
My friend, the days that are no more
Are like a book with seven seals;
What you call 'Spirit of the Ages,'
Is just the mind of self-styled sages,
In which each age itself reveals.
This is a sight to be deplored!
Who looks within perforce must run away.
A bin for sweepings, and a lumber-hoard,
At best some miracle, or mystery-play,
With fine pragmatic sayings, such as those
Puppets are made to squeak at raree-shows!
!
WAGNER.
But then the world! the heart and spirit of man!
Of both of these we fain would somewhat know.
FAUST.
Aye, call it knowledge if you can!
Canst on the child his very name bestow?
B
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28
FAUST.
Those rarest men who aught have learned,
Nor set upon their foolish heart a seal,
But would to other folk their souls, their views revel
The people always crucified and burned.
I pray you, friend, 'tis very late to-night,
We must break off our interview.
WAGNER.
Ah! I would fain have waked till morning light,
To talk on such deep matters here with you.
To-morrow, which you know is Easter Day,
Grant a few questions more, I pray,
With eager diligence to study still I turn;
Though much I know, ali else I wish to learn.
FAUST (alone).
He who on idle trash has fixed his mind,
Alone of men need ne'er abandon hope;
His greedy hands for treasures grope,
Content if e'en a filthy grub he find!
Dare, then, the voice of such an one as he
Sound where the crowd of spirits round me flew?
Yet am I thankful even to thee,
Most pitiful of all the earthly crew.
For thou didst free me from my deep despair,
Which soon had overpowered every sense,
So giant-great the phantom form of air,
To make me feel my dwarfish impotence.
[Ex
1
FAUST.
29
1
I, image of the Godhead, I who then
Seemed near the mirror of the eternal True;
His very peer, who in the crystal blue.
Of heaven, stripped off the bonds of men ;
I more than cherub, whose unfettered force,
Full of dim yearnings, all the task embraced
To flow through Nature's arteries, and taste,
Working with gods, their life, but now abased,
One word of thunder sweeps me from my course.
I may not dare to call myself thy peer.
Though I possessed the force to draw thee here,
To hold thee back I had not any force.
E'er that blest flash of time could go,
I felt myself so small, so great ;
Thou, stern, didst thrust me back, to know
The uncertainty of human fate.
Who is my guide? What must I shun?
Ought I to yield when passion strives?
Not only what is borne, but what is done,
Checks all the current of our lives.
And should the soul to what is holiest cleave,
Brute matter presses it with tightening chain ;
So soon as earthly honours we receive,
All that is better seems deceit and vain ;
And holy feelings, which made life so strong,
Are chilled and stifled 'mid the earthly throng.
>
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30
FAUST.
Though Fancy once, so full of hope and brave
Enlarged her flight towards the eternal clime,
'Tis but a little space she now need crave
When joy is wrecked in whirling waves of time.
Care deeply builds her nest within the heart,
There works she soon her secret smart,
There, restless moving, bliss and rest displaces;
She ever masks herself with new false faces,
She may as house and grange appear, as child and wife,
As fire, water, poison, steel,
Thou fearest all thou ne'er mayst feel
And what thou ne'er mayst lose, thou weepest all thy
life.
Not like the gods am I! Full well I know;
But like the worm which in the dust must go,
And finding in the dust his life and weal,
Is crushed and buried by the traveller's heel.
For what contracts these lofty walls is dust,
Dust on a hundred panels lies;
And in this mouldering world of moth and rust
Chokes me from tinselled tapestries.
Here can I find what most I need?
That men are pining everywhere in pain,
Shall I perchance in thousand volumes read,
One only here and there can joy attain?
Why dost thou grin at me, thou hollow skull?
As though of old thy brain like mine was vexed,
FAUST.
31
Had looked to find bright day, but in the twilight dull,
In search for truth, was sad and sore perplexed!
Ye instruments so full of mockeries,
With wheel and cog and cylinder,
Here at the door I stood, ye were the keys;
Your wards are true, but all in vain the lock ye stir.
Mysterious e'en in light of day,
Man Nature's veil withdraws not save she choose,
What to his spirit she will not display
He never wrests from her by levers and by screws.
Ye implements which I have never touched,
Only because my father used you, spared;
Old pulleys here this long while smoke besmutched,
While my sad lamp below upon my desk has flared.
'Twere better I had spent my substance in excess,
Than burthened with that little substance groan!
Whate'er thy fathers left thee to possess,
That earn anew ere 'tis thine own.
What is not used becomes a sore distress;
And what the moment makes, that can it use alone.
Why do I find my eyes to one point always bound?
Is that small phial there à magnet to my sight?
Why bursts at once this lovely radiance round,
As when the moon has filled the woods at eve with
light?
!
I greet thee, Phial, like no other there,
And lift thee from thy shelf with righteous care!
Man's art and wit in thee I reverence.
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32
FAUST.
!
1
!
Vessel containing soft sweet slumber hours,
Thou essence of all subtle deadly powers,
Show thou thy master thy benevolence!
Only to see thee soothes my heart's distress,
Only to grasp thee makes my yearning less;
My spirit's flood-tide slowly ebbs away,
Forth am I drawn towards a vaster mere,
Sparkles the mirror flood my feet anear,
To newer shores allures a newer day.
Round me is hovering a fiery car!
Swift pinions poise it, and I do not fear
To spring on this new track through air afar,
Towards purer action in a newer sphere.
Canst thou, so late a worm, this higher birth,
This joy of gods above avail to gain?
Yes, if upon the sun, which smiles on earth,
Thou turn thy back, whate'er the pain!
Be bold with violence the gates to move,
Past which all other men would tfembling creep!
Now is the time for thee by deeds to prove
That human worth scales, godlike, heaven's steep,
To feel at dark abysses no distress,
Where fancy makes the danger that it flies,
And through that outlet strong to press,
Though from its narrow mouth all hell in flame should
rise;
Serenely thus prepared with steadfast will,
To sound. in danger's spite, the void where all is still.
FAUST.
33
Come down to me, thou vase of crystal fair,
Who restest in thine ancient cover there,
I have not thought on thee this many a year!
Who gleaming at my father's feasts,
Didst warm the blood of solemn guests,
When each man passed thee to his peer.
Engraved designs adorn thee rich and clear,
These to explain in rime each drinker vied,—
To drain in one deep draught thy purple tide.
They bring to memory nights in youth so dear;
But now I pass thee not to any neighbour,
Nor work my wits to praise thine artist's labour ;
Here is a juice whose work is quickly done,
Thine hollow bowl the clear brown stream fills up.
My whole soul prays, 'Be this last cup,
Which I have mixed, and choose to sup,
My festive greeting high to hail the rising sun!'
(He puts the cup to his lips.)
Sound of bells, and chanting of Choirs.

Chorus of ANGELS.
Christ is arisen!
Joy to each death-doomed head,
Which the inherited
Sin, with its crafty tread,
Holds as in prison.
FAUST.
What deep vibrations, what resounding notes,
Draw from my lips the glass with force away?
D
34
FAUST.
:
Hear I the bells ring from their hollow throats
The earliest matin news of Easter Day?
Sound ye so soon, ye choirs, the hopeful hymn,
Once sung by angels where the grave was dim,
A newer, surer league, to say?
Chorus of WOMEN.
Ointment of spikenard
Precious we made him,
We, women true of heart,
In the grave laid him;
In fair linen binding
His body so dear,
Ah! we come finding
Christ is not here.
Chorus of ANGELS.
Christ rose again!
Blest he who loved men so
That he bore all their woe,
Bearing the trial throe-
Life-giving pain.
FAUST.
Ye notes of heaven sweet and wild,
Why call me from the dust of death?
Ring out where weaker men may be beguiled.
I hear your message well, it cannot wake my faith;
To faith is miracle her dearest child.
No power to reach that sphere may I attain,
The sphere whence that sweet message rings ;
¿
FAUST.
35
í
Yet since from days of youth I know the tale it brings,
These sounds can call me back to life again.
In hours that are no more heaven's loving kiss,
From solemn Sabbath stillness on me fell ;
Then fraught with hope rang out the chiming bell,
And every prayer was rapt ecstatic bliss;
A sweet desire, scarce understood,
Drove me to wander forth by wood and wold,
And while my hot eyes rained their flood,
I felt a newer world unfold.
Then came this song, fresh varied joys revealing,
The free spring-time the youth enjoyed;
And memory holds me now, with child-like feeling,
From that dread stride within the void.
Ring on, ring on, thou sweet and heavenly strain!
My tears have flowed; I live for earth again!
$
Chorus of DISCIPLES.
He who was buried,
Now is on high,
Living, who once was dead,
Lord of the sky;
Near the Creator God
Joys he in living,
We, on this earthly sod,
Sadly are grieving.
Lonely he left his own,
Drear and distressed,
Ah! we must needs bemoan,
Master, thy rest!
D 2
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FAUST.
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Chorus of ANGELS.
Christ is arisen
Up from the tomb's decay,
Burst from your prison
Joyful away!
Praise him in every deed,
Love him in all your need,
Brothers, forsaking greed,
Preach him in pilgrim weed,
Promising blissful meed,
Aye, and the Master will
Be with you still!
:
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FAUST.
37
BEFORE THE GATE.
(Walking-parties of all kinds passing out.)
SOME ARTISANS.
Which way, then, will you trudge?
OTHERS.
We're going to the keeper's lodge.
THE FIRST.
But we will wander down towards the mill.
AN ARTISAN.
The Wasserhof my fancy seems to fit.
A SECOND.
No, dull the path that leads to it.
OTHERS.
Whère, then, go you?
A THIRD.
I go where others will.
A FOURTH.
Come up with me to Burgdorf; there you're sure to find
Good beer, and maidens prettiest of their kind;
And finest fighting goes on there.
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FAUST.
}
A FIFTH.
My friend, your fun too high you pitch,
What does your hide a third time itch?
I will not go, the place I cannot bear.
SERVANT GIRL.
No, no! I'm going to the town again.
ANOTHER.
We sure shall find him by the poplars yonder.
THE FIRST.
To me that pleasure is in vain :
At your side only will he wander,
With you he dances at the ball.
Your joy concerns me not at all.
THE OTHER.
To-day another will be there,
His friend, he said, the one with curly hair.
STUDENT.
Hark! how the strapping wenches hulloa!
Come on, old fellow! 'tis for us to follow.
Good hot tobacco, strongish beer,
A maid in Sunday best, be these to-day my cheer.
TRADESMAN'S DAUGHTER.
There! those good-looking lads; just see!
It really is a crying shame;
They who might have the best of company
Should make of servant-maids their game!
FAUST.
39
SECOND STUDENT (to THE FIRST).
Stay! not so fast! Here come two girls behind,
Both looking very smart and neat,
My neighbour's daughter one; I find
I'm half in love whene'er we meet.
They walk with steps demure and slow,
And yet may take us with them where they go.
THE FIRST.
No, no, my boy! propriety's a bore
Look sharp! or else the wilder game we lose
The hand that sweeps on Saturdays the floor,
On Sundays to caress me I would choose.
CITIZEN.
I do not like him, our new Burgomaster
His pride of office daily waxes vaster.´
And nothing for the town he cares.
Worse and still worse is our position,
Each day brings some new requisition,
More taxes than in former years.
BEGGAR (sings),
Good gentlemen, and pretty ladies.
So gaily clad, with rosy cheeks,
Ah! scorn me not, though mean my trade is,
But give the beggar what he seeks;
And pass not by, my songs forsaking-
He gains who loves to give away,
The day that men go merry-making,
Should be for me a harvest day.
40
FAUST.
ANOTHER CITIZEN.
On festivals and Sundays 'tis exciting
Thus to converse of war and war's alarms,
When all the peoples, under arms,
Are far away in Turkey fighting.
You, standing in the window, take your glass,
And see the various craft adown the stream slow
gliding;
Then, glad at evening, home you pass,
And bless sweet peace, in peace abiding,
THIRD CITIZEN.
Yes, neighbour, yes! I too would have it so;
Let them crack crowns in battle's riot,
Or pell mell to the devil go,
So we remain at home in quiet.
OLD WOMAN (to the TRADESMAN'S DAUGHTER).
How fine we are, my pretties! Blood is warm!
Where's the lad would not long to pet you?
Now! don't be proud! I mean no harm!
And what you want I best know how to get you,
TRADESMAN'S DAUGHTER.
Agathe, come! I'm always in a fright,
For such a witch to find me in a scrape ;
And yet she showed me on St. Andrew's night
My future lover's very shape.
FAUST.
4I
THE OTHER.
She showed me mine, in crystal clear,
A soldier he; among the brave
I look around, and seek him far and near;
To meet him all in vain I crave.
SOLDIERS.
Cities that tower,
Walled o'er the plain,
Maidens with haughty,
Scornful disdain,
These would I gain!
Keen is the struggle,
Lordly the pay!
Rings out the bugle,
Rousing us all,
Whether we conquer,
Whether we fall.
That is a storming!
That is a life!
Cities and maidens
Yield in the strife.
Keen is the struggle,
Lordly the pay!
Soon are the soldiers
Up and away.
1
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24
•
421
FAUST.
FAUST and WAGNER.
FAUST.
The rivers and streams are freed from ice
[glow;
Through the springtide's bright and quickening
Green buds of hope in the valleys blow;
Old winter away in his weakness hies
Back to the rude hills from below.
Thence, in his flight, he only hurls
In streaks over the greening plain
A harmless scatter of icy pearls,
The sun in his scorn dissolves again;
Everywhere rises motion and form,
All with colour is quick and warm ;
Though no flowers are in the field,
Men in their best the tints can yield.
Turn yourself round, and from the height
Back to the city direct your sight.
Out of the dark and hollow portals
Presses a varied swarm of mortals ;
They sun themselves gaily with one accord,
And greet the arising of the Lord:
So are they all themselves arisen,
Out of rooms in houses which stifle laughter,
Out of trade-constraint and warehouse prison,
Out of the pressure of gable and rafter,
Out of the corners of narrow alleys,
Out of the churches' reverend night,
All are brought forth into the light.
Only see how the people sallies
Scattering through the gardens and fields,
!
43
FAUST.
How the stream to the pleasure-galleys,
Up, down, and across, a highway yields;
How sinking down to the very edge,
The laden ferry-boat leaves the shore.
E'en from the hill-paths topmost ledge
Bright garments flashes of colour pour.
The village revel rings loud and clear;
The paradise of the people is here,
Both old and young are glad and gay;
I dare be Man with them to-day.
WAGNER.
With you, Sir Doctor, thus to roam
Is always both a joy and pride;
Yet, I confess, alone I'd ne'er have come,
Because from all that's coarse I turn aside.
This fiddling, screaming, skittling revel,
Is noise I hate beyond all measure è;
They bawl, as driven by the devil,
And call it song, and call it pleasure.
PEASANTS under the Linden.
(Dance and Song.)
The shepherd for the dance was dressed
In streamers, bows, and coloured vest:
So fine were all his clothes;
And round the linden many a lad
And lass danced all as they were mad.
Juchhe! Juchhe!
Juchheisa! Heisa! He!
So went the fiddle-bows.
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FAUST.
Then quickly in the throng he rushed,
And in a maiden's side he pushed
His elbow, nudging close.
The buxom lassie turned about
And said, 'Now then, you stupid lout!
Juchhe! Juchhe!
Juchheisa! Heisa! He!
Are these your manners-those?'
1
But soon within the ring they pranced;
They danced to right, to left they danced,
And wild the capering grows;
Now waxing red, and waxing warm,
Elbows on hips, and arm-in-arm,
Juchhe! Juchhe!
Juchheisa! Heisa! He!
They stand, each pants and blows.
No! not at all your promise moves!
For many a lad the girl he loves
Deceives and overthrows!
He snuggled up against her side,
While rang around the linden wide,
Juchhe! Juchhe!
Juchheisa! Heisa! He!
Sing Ho! the fiddle-bows!
OLD PEASANT.
Sir Doctor, this is truly kind
That you our fair do not despise
And mix with all this idle throng,
Though you yourself are very wise.
+
FAUST.
45
1
We pray you take our finest tankard,
Which here with freshest drink is filled;
We offer it with hearty wishes
That not alone your thirst be stilled,
But may the drops within the cup
Equal your years when added up.
FAUST.
While this refreshing drink I drain
I wish you health and joy again.
(The people gather round.)
OLD PEASANT.
Indeed 'tis just what ought to be,
You visit us now all is glad:
Who used to come in former days
To bring us help when we were sad!
There's many a man now living here
That oft your father's name has blest,
Who snatched him from a fever bed,
And turned aside the deadly pest.
And you yourself, when you were young,
Would enter each plague-stricken home,
When though the corpses forth they bare,
You quite unharmed would go and come;
In trials He who helps above
Helped you when helping us in love.
ALL.
Health to him thus proved our friend :
So may he help us till the end!
1
"
46
FAUST.
FAUST.
Praise aye and only God in heaven
By whom are skill and healing given.
(He goes on with WAGNER.)
WAGNER.
Ah! what must be your feelings, honoured Sir,
When all the people join in loud acclaim!
1
Oh happy! that you draw such fame,
Such blessing from the hearts you stir!
The father tells his boy your name,
They ask, and throng, and run apace;
The fiddle stops, the dancer stays.
You walk, they stand in rows to see,
And all the caps are flung on high;
A little more, and men would bend the knee,
As though the Host were passing by.
FAUST.
A few steps further upwards yet, to yonder stone!
A little from our wanderings rest we there.
Here sat I often, full of thought, alone,
And plagued myself with fasting and with prayer.
My hope was strong, and firm my faith,
By tears, clasped hands, and sighs I strove,
And thought that I, to end the scath,
Could turn the Lord of heaven above.
The people honour me? They mock me rather!
O couldst thou read within my secret heart
How little either son or father
Should in such homage have their part!
!
1
FAUST.
47
:
;
My father was an honourable man,
[sphere,
Who, unknown, studied Nature, and her sacred
In his own fashion, honest and sincere,
Painstaking, whimsical in plan;
With alchemists in brotherhood,
In the black kitchen fast enclosed,
By such recipes as seemed him good,
He stirred together things opposed. ·
In the warm bath, to wed the Lily came
The Lion, red was he, an eager lord,
And both, across the open furnace flame
Were from one bride-bed to another poured.
Then, young, with colours flashing wide,
In crystal vase shone out the Queen ;
This was the medicine, the patients died,
And no man asked if cures had been.
And thus have we, with potions mixed of hell,
In these same dales on this same fell,
Slain more than fever ever will.
Poison I gave to thousands with this hand;
And they are dead, here I must stand,
While all men praise the murderer's skill.
WAGNER.
Why vex yourself with anxious thought?
An honest man's whole duty is
To look he strictly practises
Whatever rules of art his teachers taught.
If thou revered'st thy father when a youth,
Then wouldst thou gladly his instruction learn;
Hast thou, as man, more scientific truth
Then may thy son for wider knowledge yearn.
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48
FAUST.
FAUST.
Oh happy he who still may trust
1
That he from these bewildering floods may swim!
Need of the unknown is on each man thrust,
The known is ne'er of use to him.
But let us not disturb these fair sweet hours
With any idle thoughts of sorrow!
Look how the cottages in leafy bowers
The sun's low rays of evening borrow.
He sinks and fades, the exhausted day must die,
He hastens hence a newer life awaking.
Oh that a wing might sweep me through the sky
On after him, the earth forsaking!
To see, so still beneath my feet
The world in eve's eternal glow,
The vales grow dim behind, blaze out the hills we greet,
To golden streams the silver brooklets flow.
Nor then could aught my godlike courses stay,
Not the wild mountain with each riven glen ;
E'en now the sea spreads every warmer bay
To lie before my wondering ken.
And now at last it seems the god must sink,
But newer springs of force I find,
And haste, that I his lasting light may drink,
The day before me, and the night behind,
The heaven over me, and under me the seas.
A lovely vision, but the light must fade,
Ah! to the pinions which the spirit made
Material pinions are not joined with ease.
1
FAUST.
49
And yet of each and all 'tis true,
The soul to press up-hillward ever thrills ;
When lost above us in the vaulted blue
Her quivering song the lav'rock shrills;
When over hills, rough clad with pine,
On wings outspread the eagles come;
And o'er the plains, and far sea-line,
The crane aspires to win her home.
WAGNER.
I oft have had strange whimsies in my mind,
But not experienced feelings of the kind.
Not long can woods and fields our eyes engage,
Nor would I e'er the wings of birds employ.
Quite otherwise entices mental joy
From book to book, from page to page!
Then winter nights are fair, and lose their cold;
A life of happiness warms every limb;
1
And who some valued manuscript has e'er unrolled,
Then stoops the very heaven down to him.
FAUST.
One only impulse breaks upon thy rest;
Mayst thou the other never know!
Two souls there are which dwell within my breast,
Each from the other strives apart to go;
The one with coarser lust of love keeps hold
Fast on the world, with sensual organs clinging ;
But from the dark the other, strong and bold,
To realms where dwell the dead is springing.
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FAUST.
Oh! are there spirits in the air,
Who move 'twixt earth and heaven with mighty sway,
From out your mist descend the golden stair,
And lead to newer, fuller life away?
Yes, were a magic mantle only mine
To bear to lands where all is strange,
For costliest robes I would not wish to change,
Not e'en for state attire regal-fine.
WAGNER.
To call that well-known crowd is over bold,
Who stream above us in the misty air,
For human-kind they dangers thousandfold
From all the ends of earth prepare.
Comes from the north the sharpest spirit-tooth
To fix on thee: the quivering pointed tongues;
Dry from the east flit spirits, void of ruth,
And suck their nurture from thy lungs ;
The hot south others from the desert drives,
Who beat upon thy skull with fiery blows;
The west leads on a swarm, which first revives,
Then tilth and pasture overflows.
Though quick they turn to harm, with joy they hear,
Glad they obey, then glad our prayer deny;
As if they came from heaven they stand anear,
Whispering like angels, though they lie.
But now the distance darkens, let us go!
The air is colder, and the clouds are low.
We prize our homes at eventide—
But why dost stand amazed, eyes staring wide,
What is there in the twilight that can trouble?
!
FAUST.
51
FAUST.
Dost see that black dog there, ranging through corn and
stubble?
WAGNER.
I saw him long ago, but marked him not the least.
FAUST.
Observe him well! For what dost take the beast?
WAGNER.
Just for a poodle, who, like all his kind,
Tries hard to find his master's trace.
FAUST.
See him in large concentric spirals wind
His course round us, with ever-lessening space!
Unless I much mistake, a fiery track
Behind him on the pathway lies.
WAGNER.
And I see nothing but a poodle black;
It must be some illusion of your eyes.
FAUST.
He seems, methinks, to draw a magic chain
For future fetters gently round our feet.
!
WAGNER.
I see him spring to us, and, frightened, shrink again,
Since in his master's stead, two strangers he would
meet.
FAUST.
The circle narrows; he is near !
E 2
?
52
FAUST.
1
1
G
}
WAGNER.
You see a dog, and not a ghost, is here.
He growls, doubts, cringes on his belly flat
And wags his tail-all dogs do that!
FAUST.
Come with us, poodle, come to me!
WAGNER.
Just a mere foolish poodle, see!
If one stands still he keeps his distance,
Or call, he fawns with great persistence:
Whate'er one lose, he'll run and bring ;
Into the stream for sticks he'll spring.
FAUST.
Yes; you are right; I find no indication
Of any spirit; all is education.
WAGNER.
To dogs, if dogs well trained we find,
May e'en philosophers be kind.
Yes, he deserves your favour thoroughly;
A famous scholar of all students he.
(They enter the city gate.)
!
;
FAUST.
53
STUDY.
Enter FAUST, with the Poodle.
I leave the field and meadow shrouded
Within the mantle-folds of night;
The better soul now wakes unclouded,
And thrills with sacred second-sight.
Each lawless impulse laid at rest,
Forgot each wilder path I trod;
Now love to man rules all my breast,
And all my life the love of God.
Fidget not, poodle, roving so restlessly!
Why do you snuffle here at the sill?
My softest pillow yours shall be,
Lay yourself down by the stove if you will.
Since lately out on the mountain way
It pleased us to see you running riot,
You as a welcome guest shall stay,
But if you stay, you must be quiet.
Ah when within our narrow cell
The lamp burns up with friendly cheer,
That breast that knows its secrets well-
That heart is also bright and clear.
:
1
54
FAUST.
2
!
}
!
Reason again begins to speak,
The flowers of hope again are rife;
For living water-brooks we seek,
And yearn to find the fount of life.
܆
Growl not, you poodle, for the holy tide
Of song in my soul can never suit
The surly snarling of a brute.
We know full well that men deride
What they understand not;
That the good and fair they cast aside,
And murmur as if these caused them pain;
Why, man-like, should a dog complain?
But, ah! I feel, although I will my best,
Content no longer flows within my breast.
But wherefore must the stream so soon run dry,
That we again should thirsting lie?
This I from sad experience learn.
Yet we to compensate this dearth,
May seek for treasures not of earth,
And for that Revelation yearn,
Which nowhere burns with brighter glory,
Than in the sacred Gospel story.
So must I down the volume reach,
And with a quiet heart unvexed,
Seek to translate the holy text
Into the well-loved words of German speech.
(He opens the volume and begins.)
i
}
**
FAUST.
55
1
'In the beginning was the Word!' the clause is writ:
But here I stay! Who may interpret it?
I may not this 'the Word' so highly rate,
And otherwise must needs translate,
If I be rightly by the Spirit taught.
'Tis writ: In the beginning was the Thought.'
Give to that earliest line good heed,
Nor let thy pen too quickly speed.
For is it Thought which makes and moves aright?
Rather In the beginning was the Might.'
<
Yet while I set it down, some rising doubt
Bids me, like other renderings, blot it out.
The Spirit aids me! Now I reck the rede,
And write: 'In the beginning was the Deed!'
If I with you the chamber share,
Poodle, howling now forbear,
Forbear your riot!
For a comrade so unquiet
I will never entertain.
One or other of the twain
Must leave the cell amain.
At rights of guests I grieve to scoff,
The door is open, pray be off.
But now what do I see !
This cannot natural be!
1
Is it fancy? Truth? Who knows?
How tall and broad my poodle gróws!
He rises up in might,
1
,
56
FAUST.
i
}
No dog is here before my sight!
What! Brought I home a spectre thus?
A very hippopotamus,
With fiery eyes, and fearful swallow,
My bidding thou shalt follow!
On a half-birth like this of hell
The key of Solomon will tell.
SPIRITS (in the gallery).
One of our number is caught there!
Stay, by none be entrance sought there!
The fox entrapped will yell,
So does this old imp of hell.
Yet take good heed!
Move around, and to and fro,
High and low,
He at last himself has freed.
Help as is fit there,
Let him not sit there!
Much he did for us,
We may not leave him thus.
!
FAUST.
First, then, to guard against harm,
Use I the fourfold charm:
Salamander shall glow,
Undené shall coil,
Cobold shall toil,
Sylphé shall go !
FAUST
57
Who has not learned
The Elements, discerned
'Their might,
And nature right,
He ne'er inherits
The rule o'er spirits.
Pass, brightly flashing,
Salamander!
Flow, noisily dashing,
Undené !
Flame in meteor beauty,
Sylphé!
Help in household duty,
+
Incubus! Incubus!
End the spell; come thou to us!
Nought in the least
Affects the beast.
He lies quite still, and free from harm,
Grins at me in spite of the charm;
On thine ear shall swell
Mightier yet the spell.
If, comrade, thou be
From hell just set free,
Then see this sign
Makes dwindle and pine
The bands of night!
!
!
S
!
58
FAUST.
7
}
He swells, with hair that stands upright.
Being of hell!
Canst read him well;
The one unspoken,
Uncreate Lord,
Whose flesh the nails have broken
Who is in heaven adored?
Near the stove there by my spells,
Like an elephant he swells;
Will the whole room overflow?
Like a cloud he seems to fleet.
Do not to the ceiling go!
Lay thee at thy master's feet!
See, not in vain I threaten ire,
I can scorch with sacred fire!
Wait not the light
That glows in threefold might!
Wait not that light
The strongest charm my arts afford!
MEPHISTOPHELES (while the mist disperses, advances, clad like a
travelling student, from behind the stove).
Why such ado? How may I serve my lord?
FAUST.
Was that the kernel of the brute!'
A student traveller! The case provokes a smile.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
May I the learned gentleman salute?
You made me soundly sweat the while.
I
FAUST.
59
1
i
What is your name?
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The question seems absurd.
From one who cares in no degree for show;
Who, heeding not the empty word,
The depths of being seeks to know.
FAUST.
Your nature, gentlemen, indeed,
We by your names in general read,
For it is clearly writ as evil.
When they becall you Liar, Beelzebub, or Devil.
Now come, who are you then?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
A portion of that Might
Which always wills the wrong, and always works the right.
FAUST.
To read your riddle all in vain I try.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I am the Spirit, who aye deny!
And rightly so; for everything
Is only good for perishing;
So better 'twere that nought had been,
And, therefore, all that you call Sin,
Ruin, whate'er with evil 's rife,
Is my true element of life.
}
f
1
1
1
60
FAUST.
FAUST.
You call yourself a part, and yet a whole I see.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I speak the truth in modesty.
Though mostly man, that microcosmic fool,
Himself pretends to form a whole;
Part of the Part am I, and this was All at first,
Part of the Dark, which bore the Light, and nursed
The haughty Light, which against Night, its mother,
Disputes her rank, and tries her place to smother;
But all in vain; for Light, though wide it spread its
Arrested at all Matter clings,
Gives Matter beauty, from all Matter flows,
Yet Matter hems it in its way;
And so I hope it will not stay,
But with the world of Matter may it close.
[wings,
1
FAUST.
Now know I all your worthy doings;
You cannot bring the whole to ruins,
And in detail must needs begin.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
That way, indeed, but little can I win.
Whate'er opposes Nothing's force,
The Something, this world big and coarse,
So oft as I may undertake it,
I know not how to harm and break it.
In spite of waves, storms, earthquakes, burning,
Still sea and land at rest are turning!
i
FAUST.
61
"
Against that cursed trash, the brood of beasts and
I may not any way make head,
[men,
Though through my means are many dead!
Yet fresh new blood now circulates again.
So goes it, 'tis enough to craze one's mind,
To see a thousand germs unwind,
From Air from Water, and from Earth,
In dry, moist, warm, cold, 'tis the same!
And had I not reserved for me the Flame
I should have suffered total dearth.
FAUST.
Thus would you, with chill devil's-clasp,
Which yet shall clench itself for nought,
In spite the eternal forces grasp,
Life-giving, which the world have wrought,
Some other object may you rather
You wondrous son of Chaos treat!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
We'll talk about this matter farther
When e'er again we chance to meet;
Now be so good as let me go.
FAUST.
You surely may, without my leave.
Each has the other learned to know;
Gladly your visits I receive.
Here is the window, here the door,
Or take the chimney if you will.
!
:
M
1.
62.
FAUST.
¡
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I own I cannot quit your floor,
A little hindrance on the sill,
That wizard's foot, confines me well.
FAUST.
The Pentagramma works you woe?
Come tell me, now, you son of hell,
How came you in, if this annoy you so?
How was a spirit like you entrapped?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Look at it well! It is not rightly mapped;
The angle pointing from the room
Is, as you see, just turned askance.
FAUST.
And so 'twas just a lucky chance!
And you my prisoner have become?
So I succeed in what I do!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
1
1
The poodle noticed not the charm, but straight
sprang through,
But now you see how changed the case;
The devil cannot leave the place.
FAUST.
The window there's a way directer.
FAUST.
63
1
MEPHISTOPHELES.
It is a law for devil and for spectre,
To slink within, and leave by the self-same space;
We're free to do the first, but then are under orders.
FAUST.
So! Hell has rules within its borders!
And that is well, for should we make a pact,
I judge that, gentlemen, 'twould be secure.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
You shall receive our promise, whole and pure,
Nor shall a corner be untacked.
But time is needed to agree,
We'll talk of it another day;
But now most earnestly I pray
You'll be so good as set me free.
FAUST.
You must a moment even yet remain ;
I hope to hear from you good news.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Now let me go! I soon will come again,
Then ask me whatsoe'er you choose.
FAUST.
I made against you ne'er a plan,
You fell yourself within the snare.
But catch the devil who catch can,
;
!
A second time he's sure to take far better care.
}
6+
FAUST.
!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
If it so please you, it will give me joy
With you for company to stay,
But let me all my arts employ
To make the time pass swift away.
FAUST.
You're very welcome; only see
That all your art amusing be.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
You'll win, my friend, more recompense
In one short hour for every sense,
Than in a year's monotony.
Whate'er the tender spirits sing,
The lovely pictures they will bring
Are more than magic can reveal.
They will delight your sense of smell,
They will refresh your palate well,
And every rapture you will feel.
No further preface do we need,
Assembled are we; so proceed
SPIRITS.
Vanish, ye darkling
Arches above!
Then the blue air
Friendly and fair
O'er us will show,
If now the darkling
Welkin were riven,
A
FAUST.
65
Stars would be sparkling
Softly in heaven,
Sunlight would glow.
Angels of might,
Fair spirits bright,
Spread ye above us,
Over us bend,
And as ye love us,
Our loves ascend;
Fall from your hands.
Your garments, bands,
To deck the lands,
And arbours leafy
Where lovers vow,
Pensive, while living,
To love as now.
The bowers leafy!
C
The tendrils striving!
Grape bunches heavy
Fall, purple-ripe,
I' the wine-press gripe,
Falling in brooklets
The foaming wine
Through jewels fine
Shall ripple and shine.
Lying behind them
They leave the height;
Broad seas we find them
{
:
To mirror the sight
F
7
1
་
}
66
FAUST.
'
Of the high green lands.
And the winged bands
Drink deep delight
From their sunward flight.
They seek in flying
The island caves,
Soft-rocked and lying
On ocean waves.
Where we all trooping,
Merrily whooping,
Over the mead
The dances lead,
Then scattered away
In the air we play.
High on the mountains.
Some climb their rim,
Over the fountains
Of seas others swim,
In the air are we rife;
All for our life,
Follow afar
The life-giving star,
Our grace and our bliss.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
He sleeps! 'Tis well; each airy tender tongue,
Your lullaby full deftly have ye sung!
Your concert o'er, I'm in your debt for this.
You are not yet a man, who can the devil keep!
Rock him with softest dreams in sleep,
Sink him in oceans of untruth!
FAUST.
67
To hold this threshold's magic cheap
I need the aid of rat's sharp tooth.
I need not long a-conjuring stay;
There's one now scratching here, who will at once
obey.
The lord of all the rats and mice,
The lord of flies, frogs, bugs, and lice,
Desires that thou shalt hither draw
And straightway on the threshold gnaw
The place where I this oil am dropping—
Ha! com'st already forward hopping?
Quick only to the work! The cursed edge.
Which harmed is on the outer ledge.
But one bite more, and I am free.
Now, Faust, dream on. I'll come again to thee!
FAUST (awaking).
Am I again deceived? It seems
The throng of spirits flee the day.
The devil came to me. Were these but dreams ?
And did a poodle run away?
!
.i
✓
F 2
{
68
FAUST.
1
}
STUDY.
FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.
FAUST.
A knock? Come in! Who troubles me again?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
'Tis I.
Come in!
Come in, then.
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Speak thrice, or speak in vain.
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.

Ah! that pleases me.
We shall agree, I hope, to-day!
That I your whims may chase away,
I come like sprig of quality,
In stiff, silk mantle, doublet red,
And broidered o'er with golden thread;
With game-cock's feather in my hat,
And long, sharp rapier by my side
And I advise you, straight and pat,
The same directly to provide,
:
69
FAUST.
That you may, unrestrained and free,
Make trial what true life shall be.
FAUST.
In every garment I should feel the chain
Of this so narrow life of clay.
Too old am I for merely play,
So young, that wishes yet remain.
What can the world to me supply?
'Thou must deny thyself, deny !'
That is the never-ending song;
In every human ear it rings,
Which, through our lifetime all along,
The passing hour hoarsely sings.
Each morn I wake, and feel afraid,
And fain the bitter tears would run
To greet the day, which ere the light shall fade,
Fulfils no single wish I make—not one—
And with a captious waywardness
Brings hopes of future joys to naught,
And spoils with all life's mockeries
The dreams wherewith my soul is fraught.
So evermore, when falls the night from heaven,
In sorrow on my bed I lie;
Nor even then may rest be given,
Ill dreams arise and terrify.
The God can wake this inner strife.
Who deep within my breast has sway,
Can rule o'er all my powers of life,
Yet move no outer ills away.
70
FAUST.
So is existence heavy to be borne;
I long for death, and hold my life in scorn.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Death is a welcome guest to none, howe'er forlorn.
FAUST.
Oh blest is he around whose conquering brow,
In triumph Death the bloody laurel winds,
Or fresh from furious dance but now,
Enclasped in maiden's arms he finds!
Oh would that I, by that high spirit's power
Enthralled, had yielded up my soul.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yet was there some one, on a midnight hour,
Drank not the brown juice from the bowl.
FAUST.
To play the spy is your delight, I see.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I know not everything, though much is known to me.
FAUST.
Since those familiar tones of healing
Drew me from drear despair away,
Yet all remains of childish feeling
With sounds of happier times betray;
I curse whatever clasps the mind
In snares of falsehood and decoy,
FAUST.
71
}
Bids it forget, deceived and blind,
In sad abysses all its joy!
Cursed before all be that high thought,
In which the spirit wraps her round!
Cursed all that is to dazzle wrought,
In which our every sense is bound!
Cursed the delusions nursed in sleep,
Of fame, or name that never dies!
Cursed be the goods we think to keep-
Wife, child, plough, ploughman-all are lies!
A curse on Mammon, when with treasure
He rouses men to daring deeds,
Or, furthering each lazy pleasure,
e lays soft pillows for our needs!
Curse on the wine in bunch and leaf!
On love, though favours flow at will!
Curse on each hope! on each belief!
And curse on patience, deeper still!
CHORUS OF SPIRITS (unseen).
Woe, woe!
For thou hast destroyed
The beauteous world
With might of thy hand;
In ruin 'tis hurled,
By a half-god's careless keeping !
And sweeping
The fragments to naught, we come
With weeping,
For that all fairness is done.
72
FAUST.
1
7
Victoriously
Earth's mighty son,
And gloriously
Build it again.
In thine own bosom fair to see
Fresher life and free
To find,
With clearer mind,
A newer strain
Shall ring for thee!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
These are the little ones
Among my sons.
Hear, how they so crafty-wise
All deeds of joy advise
To the world's strife,
From thy lonely life
Where senses and blood scarce move,
They wile thee forth to rove.
Cease thus to trifle with thy woe,
Which like a vulture feeds upon thy heart !
The basest company will serve to show
That man with other men thou art.
Yet have I no desire
To mix thee with the rabble hordes.
I'm not among the greater lords;
But if thou with me for squire,
Wilt on life thy steps advance,
Then will I attendance dance;
J

FAUST.
73
!
From this moment wait on thee,
Will thy companion be;
Or, since to please I crave,
Will be thy servant, be thy slave.
FAUST.
And what requital must I make to thee?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Thou mayst think over it what time thou list.
FAUST.
No, no! the devil is an Egoist.
Nor to fulfil God's hest will he
Be likely often to assist.
Speak your conditions, thus and thus,
For such a servant must be dangerous.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Here, to thy service will I bind me fast,
Obey thy lightest nod, nor rest, nor sleep;
If yonder, when we find ourselves at last,
Thou wilt to me obedience keep.
FAUST.
L
To me that yonder's no great matter;
Shouldst thou this world in ruin shatter,
To see the next I little care.
From this earth all my joy I borrow,
And this sun shines on all my sorrow;
And let come what will come to-morrow
If once I pass from these to there.

74
FAUST.
1
So tell me not I will not hear,
If men hereafter love and hate,
Or if there be, within that sphere,
A higher and a lower state.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
In such a mood you'll surely do it.
Come, bind yourself! you'll never rue it;
For ere the day is spent, my plan
Shall give you more than any other man.
FAUST.
Poor devil, what is it thou canst give?
Was ever a soul of man that nobly strove to live
By such as thou art understood?
Thou only hast an unsubstantial food;
Thy gold, in red and restless flood,
Like mere quicksilver through the fingers flows;
Who plays with thee will ever lose.
Thou givest a maid, who in my arms
Ogles my friend with glance of sly desire;
Or honour, which for gods has charms,
But vanishes like meteor-fire.
Show me the fruit which ere 'tis plucked will rot,
And trees which each day freshly foliaged live!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
E'en such a charge affrights me not,
These treasures all are mine to give.
But, good my friend, the hour comes quickly on,
When we may banquet on all good at leisure.
1
FAUST.
75
FAUST.
No! if I ever rest upon a bed of pleasure,
Then let me be at once undone !
When thou canst, flattering, make believe,
That all my self-reproach is past,
Canst me with fair delights deceive,
That day shall be for me the last!
I make the bet!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Done !
FAUST.
So 'tis hard and fast.
When to the moment I shall say
Move slower time, for thou art fair!
Then mayst thou fetters on me lay,
I'll, willing, perish then and there!
Then, then the passing-bell may clang,
1
Then thou art set from service free;
The clock may stop, its hands may hang,
And time exist no more for me!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Consider well! for we shall not forget.
FAUST.
Therein hast thou the fullest right.
Nor lightly did I make the bet;
Since I must be a serving wight,
It matters not what lord I get.
76
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Then, doctor, e'en to-day, thy will to do,
Thy pleasures serve, am I thy slave.
But-in the name of life or death-I crave
Thou'lt give me just a line or two.
FAUST.
!
Pedant, requirest thou something written here?
Hast never known a man, whose man's word was sincere?
Is 't not enough the word but now I spake
Must make the future all unlike the past?
Does not the world in all its currents shake?
Shall such a promise bind me fast?
Yet will each heart this vain illusion fit,
1
Each keeps it as it were a prize ;
If genuine trust within man's bosom sit,
He, glad, regrets no sacrifice!
And yet a parchment deed, when once 'tis stamped and
writ,
Is a dread phantom every creature flies.
The word must die within the feather,
The power belongs to wax and leather.
Will brass or marble, Spirit of ill,
Parchment or paper, serve thy will?
With burin, pen, or chisel shall I write?
To thee I freely leave the choice.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Haranguing so, with heated voice,
Why need you thus yourself excite?
1
FAUST.
77
1
For any scrap of paper's good,
And sign your name with just a little drop of blood.
FAUST.
Well, if this give thy fancy food,
I'll just play out the farce aright!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Blood is a quite peculiar juice.
#
FAUST.
No need to fear lest I should break my pact!
All earnest striving I will use
To bring my powers into act.
I tried to wind myself too high, .
Yet only in thy rank remain.
Nature is closed before my eye,
The Highest Spirit shows disdain.
The thread of all my thought is torn,
Science long since I loathe and scorn;
So in the depths of sensual strife,
Let us now slake each passion fierce!
'Neath veils of magic none may pierce
Let every wonder spring to life!
Let us plunge us in Time's swift rush,
Where all life's actions clash and crush!
Then may all pain and joy
Success and all annoy,
Change with each other as best they can;
An active is ever a restless man.
!
78
FAUST.
#
MEPHISTOPHELES.
No bounds are set for thee, nor measure;
Just nibble joys, and pass them by;
From each to other lightly fly.
Good luck be thine in all thy pleasure;
So cling to me, and never fear.
FAUST.
You understand, no talk of joy is here.
In tumult will I plunge, delight that stings,
Hatred that loves, chagrin that healing brings.
My bosom, from the pains of science free,
Shall shut itself against no future woe;
And what is shared by all humanity
Will I within my inmost being know.
My spirit shall cleave to all of high or deep,
While on my breast man's weal and woe I heap,
Till the world's self and mine shall fuse in one,
And myself in her ruin am undone.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Oh trust to me, who many thousand years
At this tough nutriment have chewed;
None 'twixt their cradles and their biers
Digest the old leaven for their food!
Trust one of us, who say the All
Is made for God, the only One!
He, clothed in light's eternal pall,
Has all of us to darkness done,
That day and night be yours alone.
FAUST.
79
Aye, but I will!
}
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Then have it so,
There's still one little matter wrong,
That Time is brief and Art is long;
'Twere well, methinks, to school to go.
There with a Poet fraternise,
And bid him let his thoughts run wild,
That all the nobler qualities
Upon thine honoured skull be piled,
The Lion's ire,
The Hart's swift-footedness,
The Italian's blood of fire,
The Norseman's doughtiness.
Bid him for thee the secret find
How craft and valour are combined;
And how, when youth's warm passions twist him,
A man may still make love on system;
Would such an one were known to me,
Sir Microcosm his name should be.
FAUST.
What am I then, if it be ne'er my part,
The crown of manhood to attain,
A
Though every sense towards it strain?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Thou art at last—just what thou art.
Set on thy head a tall peruke with million locks,
Set on thy feet a pair of ell-high socks,
Thou still remainest what thou art.
:
:
80
FAUST.
1
;
FAUST.
I feel it, for around me all in vain
The stores of man's intelligence I bring,
And when I come at last to tell my gain,
Within me no new founts of power spring ;
Not by a hair-breadth have I raised my height,
Nor am I nearer to the Infinite.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Good Sir, you look on everything,
As any humdrum dullard may;
But ere the joys of life take wing,
Needs must you learn a better way.
Why, damn it! surely foot and hand,
And head and breech, are all your own!
And so I fail to understand
How aught I use not-mine has grown.
If I have half-a-dozen horses,
I mount, a cavalier so fine,
And make good use of all their forces,
As four-and-twenty legs were mine.
So up! away with care! and free,
Come plunge within the world with me!
I say a fellow given to speculation,
Is like a beast, on barren heath,
Led far astray by spirits of damnation,
While fair green meadows wait him close beneath.
FAUST
And how shall we begin?
FAUST.
81
MEPHISTOPHELES.
At once with you I come.
This is a place of martyrdom ;
Such life you cannot count as true,
Your school-boys tire as well as you.
Leave this to your big-bellied.neighbour;
Why will you plague yourself in threshing straw
The best you earn by mental labour
You dare not tell a student raw.
I hear one now upon the stair!
FAUST.
I cannot see him; let him go.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Long the poor lad has waited there;
Send him not off uncounselled so.
On me your cap and gown I'll fit ;
The mask will suit me well, I know.
(He changes his dress.)
Now leave the issue to my wit.
Just a few minutes only do I need;
:
1
[speed.
Go you make ready for our joyous voyage with
[Exit FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES (in FAUST's long robe).
Care naught for science, scorn thou mind,
The highest powers of human kind,
In works of magic and illusion
Trust to the spirit of confusion;
I have thee tight within my jesses-
G
82
།
FAUST
}
?
The soul which fate has given, now is driving,
Him forward, unrestrained, to new excesses,
And all its over hasty striving
Past earthly joys, unheeding, presses.
But I will lead him through wild evil living,
Again where life is flat and dull,
And I shall see him, clutching, riving,
While meat and drink, in vessels full,
Pass by his greedy lips, all taste depriving;
While all in vain he calls for help in woe ;
And were he not his soul e'en now to devils giving,
He'd none the less to ruin go!
Enter a SCHOLAR.
SCHOLAR.
Though come but late a student here,
With great submission I'appear,
To profit by the conversation
Of one all name with veneration.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I thank you for your thought of me ;
A man like other men you see!
What due inquiry have you made?
SCHOLAR.
I pray you, Sir, to lend your aid;
I come with middling store of wealth,
With good intentions, youth, and health;
Scarce my mother would suffer my going,
Yet I wanted to learn what is worth the knowing.
1
FAUST.
83
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Here, then, your wish you may obtain.
SCHOLAR.
Yet, truly, would I were home again:
I do not like these solemn walls,
I take no pleasure in the halls;
In narrow space is little ease;
I miss the meadows, miss the trees;
Indoors, mid benches row on row,
Thought, sight, and hearing seem to go.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
All that will only come with use.
The babe upon the mother's breast
To suck at first will oft refuse,
Yet soon delight, when nearer pressed.
So, at the breasts of science nursed,
You will each day grow more athirst.
SCHOLAR.
Clung to her bosom, ne'er from thence I stir,
If once you show the way that leads to her.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Tell me, ere all our time we lose,
What Faculty you think to choose.
SCHOLAR.
I would, in truth, be very wise;
Whatever is in earth and skies-
The natural sciences, in fact—
Within my studies would embrace.
G 2
1
:
1
܀
:
84
FAUST.
#
}
MEPHISTOPHELES.
No doubt you run in learning's trace,
But let not other thoughts your mind distract.
SCHOLAR.
Body and soul shall strenuous be;
A few short hours I'll set aside
For pastime and for jollity
In the fair festive summer-tide.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Use well your time, which flits so quickly past,
Yet order helps to hold it fast.
This I advise, my friend, in sum,
At first Collegium logicum.
For there they well will dress your mind
As if in Spanish boots confined,
That it may carefully be brought
"
To walk along the paths of thought,
And not like Jack-o'-Lantern go
Criss-crossing ever to and fro.
Then will they teach you many a day,
That what you have done straight away,
Like meat and drink you never heeded,
Once, twice, and thrice have really needed.
For in the factory of thought
Like weaver's pattern all is wròught,
One tread a thousand threads is throwing,
Above, below, the shuttles ply,
And all the threads, unnoticed, fly,
Each shock sets thousand changes going.
1
}
FAUST.
.85
}
!
Comes the Philosopher, and he
Will teach how all these things must be :
The first was so, the second so,
Therefore the third and fourth were so ;
If first and second had not been,
No mortal third and fourth had seen;
Yet though the scholars all say 'tis true,
They have not learnt to be weavers too.
Who will with vigour aught describe and know,
Seeks first to make the spirit go;
Then, though he hold the parts in his hand,
There fails him, alas! but the spirit-band.
'Encheiresin naturæ' chemists say,
Nor see they laugh their art away.
SCHOLAR.
I do not think I follow quite.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Soon you will understand aright,
When you reduce and classify
All things that in confusion lie.
SCHOLAR.
Bewilderment is all I gain;
A mill-wheel seems a-turning in my brain.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And then, all other things before,
On metaphysics you must pore!
See that with earnest thought you gain
What never suited human brain ;
86
FAUST.
:
J
That in all cases these may stand
A sounding word at your command.
And first, as this half-year runs by,
Take heed to punctuality!
You have five lectures every day;
Ere the last stroke has died away,
Be at your post with work in order,
Each section marked along the border,
That thus you may the better see
t
Whene'er the lecturer with the text makes free;
Take notes with ardour unabated,
As though the Holy Ghost dictated!
SCHOLAR.
With this advice I quite agree!
I think it must be very right
To set all down in black and white,
And take it home at ease with me.
MEPHISTOPHELES,
One Faculty or other choose!
SCHOLAR.
I cannot bring myself to study for the law.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
To this effect should you conclusions draw
I blame you not, for well I know its use.
Its precedents and regulations
Like some long, lingering malady,
Drag on and on through many generations,
E
FAUST.
87
From place to place so softly fly.
Reason grows folly, blessings naught,
Our fathers' deeds decide our fate,
That right, alas! we call innate,
Is not within the question brought.
SCHOLAR.
Your verdicts my repugnance feed;
How blest the life your scholars lead;
Theology I feel inclined to try.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I would not wish to bend your steps awry.
In all that in this science is revealed,
It is so hard to shun erroneous notions;
So much of poison therein lies concealed, [potions.
Which scarce may be discerned from healthful
Here, too, 'tis best that one alone be heard
That you may swear to the master's word.
The word, the word, I always teach,
That is the gate by which you reach
The inner shrine of certainty.
SCHOLAR
Yet some idea conjoined to words should be.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Exactly so! yet none should let their absence ail him;
For always when ideas fail him,
A word may fill the gap conveniently.
With words you make a famous battle,
With words about a system prattle ;
:
88
FAUST.
I' warn you, still in words believe,
Nor from a word its least iota thieve.
SCHOLAR.
Forgive my holding you with many queries,
Yet once again, I hope to win
Some word of power on medicine,
Unless, indeed, you find it wearies.
Three years is all too short a tide,
And oh the field is very wide;
But whoso has a guiding sign
Steps briskly forward o'er the level.
MEPHISTOPHELES (aside).
I'm tired of this sententious whine,
And once again must play the devil.
(Aloud.)
The spirit of medicine is not hard to seize ;
You study all the world, its every phase,
But when all's done, as God shall please,
It goes its ways.
1
'Tis vain that all around at science you may snatch,
Each one may learn, and gain whate'er he can,
But he who shall the moment catch
Is the successful man.
Your limbs are stout, and fairly knit,
No lack is yours of pluck and will;
And if you trust your mother-wit
Then other folk will trust your skill.
1
?
FAUST.
89
Learn first to manage women-kind ;
They have eternal pains and aches,
And thousand crakes,
One treatment is enough, you'll find ;
If first you seem respectful-dumb,
You'll have them all beneath your thumb.
If but some specious title trust invite,
Your skill outweighs the skill of many men;
They give to you at once those favours as a right,
For which another strives whole years in vain.
Learn how the pulse you best may feel,
How fiery-eyed may slyly steal
Your arm around the slender waist,
To learn how tightly it is laced.
SCHOLAR.
Ah, that looks better, now! One sees the how and why.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yes, dull and grey, my friend, is theory;
Life's golden tree green leaves will bear.
SCHOLAR.
All this is like a dream to me, I swear.
Will you allow me once again to come,
And track your wisdom to its sources home ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
So far as rests with me, you may.
}
90
FAUST.
:
1
i
SCHOLAR.
I scarce can tear myself away.
Here is my album, Sir; it will be kind
If you will write whatever you're inclined.
Very good!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
(He writes, and gives it back.)
SCHOLAR.
Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum.
(He closes it respectfully, and retires.)
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Follow that speech, and the way my cousin the snake.
will show ;
Of your famous likeness to God you'll soon have
enough, I trow.
Enter FAUST.
FAUST.
Now then, where shall we go?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
That lies with you.
We'll see the little world, the great world too.
What hours of joy will soon be spent
In these our courses violent!
FAUST.
Although my beard is manhood's sign,
No easy arts of life are mine.
+
i
FAUST.
91
I fear the attempt will not succeed,
Experience of the world I need.
With other men I feel so small,
H
And scarcely in my place at all.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Ah, good my friend, all that is sure to come;
Soon as you trust yourself, you'll feel at home.
FAUST.
How shall we travel? Have you found
A carriage, servants, or the horses?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
We'll spread this cloak upon the ground;
'Twill take us on our airy courses.
Only you may not try to bear
Your heavy luggage through the air.
A whiff of fire, which I will quickly bring,
Will lift from earth upon its wing.
If we are light in air we'll swiftly rise;
I wish you pleasure in your new emprise.
i
1
1
1
92
FAUST.
:
1
AUERBACH'S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG.
A group of jolly companions.
FROSCH.
What? None will laugh, and none carouse?
It seems that I must school your brows.
Like sodden straw each comrade stays,
Who are so often all ablaze.
BRANDER.
The fault is yours; you bring to rouse the folk
No quips and cranks, nor e'en a dirty joke.
FROSCH. (Pours a glass of wine over his head.)
There 'tis for you, then!
BRANDER.
Filthy beast!
FROSCH.
You asked for all you got, at least.
SIEBEL.
Out, out with all who can't agree;
Shout a gay catch, and swig and sing with me!
Ho! Hulloa! Ho!
i
}
FAUST.
93
}
ALTMAYER.
Ah me some cotton wool,
ſo plug my ears! This fellow splits my skull.
SIEBEL.
Resounding from the vaulted spaces
Then first you feel the power of the basses.
i
FROSCH.
Right, Right! and turn him out who does not like it!
A tara lara da!
ALTMAYER.
A tara lara da !
FROSCH.
Our voices strike it.
(Sings.)
The dear and holy Roman realm,
How holds it still together?
BRANDER.
A filthy song! Oh fie! a song on politics!
A wretched song! You should thank God each morn
That you may hold the Roman realm in scorn.
I bless myself that I'm no Emperor,
I'm freer thus than were I Chancellor.
We need a head of some sort for our band ;
I vote we choose a Pope off-hand.
You know what is the quality
Which lifts one to that dignity.
t
94
FAUST.
t
FROSCH (sings).
Rise up, my lady nightingale,
Ten thousand times my mistress hail.
SIEBEL.
To a mistress never a greeting! I turn my ears away.
FROSCH.
To a mistress greeting and kisses! in spite of all you say.
(Sings.)
Unbar the door! The night is here.
Unbar the door! while wakes my dear.
Now bar the boor! at morning's rays.
SIEBEL.
Sing and sing on to greet her still with laud and praise
And I will lightly laugh the while.
She cheated me, will treat you too as cheap and vile.
Ah! might she have a Kobold for her lover!
To dally with her where the cross-roads meet :
May some old goat, when Blocksberg sabbath's over,
'Good night,' as swift he gallops past her, bleat!
An honest lad with genuine flesh and blood
For such a wench is far too good;
The greeting she from me shall win
Is that I'll smash her windows in.
BRANDER (striking the table).
Attention! Comrades, lend an ear!
Confess that I know how to live:
Since we have lovers sitting here,
Will I to wish them better cheer,
FAUST.
95
My best with all the honours give.
So mark, no newer song can be!
And sing the chorus lustily.
(He sings.)
Within a cellar lived a rat,
And fed herself on dripping;
Her paunch, like Luther's, growing fat,
By pretty constant sipping.
The cookmaid poisoned all her marrow,
And then she found the world as narrow,
As love moved every limb.
CHORUS (shouting).
As love moved every limb.
BRANDER.
Ran round the house, and out the house,
}
Her throat at puddles drenching;
Gnawed, scratched, as though to rout the house,
Her madness nowise quenching;
And many a spring the creature sprung,
Her body all with anguish wrung,
As love moved every limb.
CHORUS.
As love moved every limb.
BRANDER.
Her pains were sore; in light of day
She ran within the kitchen ;
i
96
FAUST.
Fell sniffing on the hearth, and lay,
Her limbs all sadly twitching.
She laughed who gave the poison griping-
Ha! ha! 'tis done, with all her piping,
As love moved every limb.
CHORUS.
As love moved every limb.
SIEBEL.
Dull fellows, to like songs like that!
A joke, I think, of sorry savour,
To scatter poison for a rat.
BRANDER.
It seems you hold, then, rats in favour.
ALTMAYER.
The pot-gut bald pate! his disasters
In love have made him mild and tame;
In that swoll'n rat he sees, my masters
Himself, though in another name.
!
}
FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES.
}
MEPHISTOPHELES.
'Tis most important you should see
By all this jolly company,
In which I lead you, how one lives at leisure;
How each day brings these lads a newer pleasure.
With little wits and great content
FAUST.
97
Here each to leave his narrow circle fails
As kittens jump to catch their tails.
And if no headaches they lament,
Till the host demand his pay,
They are careless all and gay.
BRANDER.
These fellows off a journey come,
Their gaping shows them not at all at home;
They can't have been an hour here.
FROSCH.
I' faith I think you're right! I hold my Leipzig dear!
A little Paris she, of polished people.
SIEBEL.
For what d' you take these men, in truth?
FROSCH.
Let be! for with a glass that overflows,
I'll draw just like a child's first tooth
The maggots lightly from these fellows' nose.
They sure are come of noble family,
So proud and sullen as they seem to be.
BRANDER.
Just mountebanks, I'd bet a groat.
}
Perhaps.
ALTMAYER.
FROSCH.
Now look, I'll quiz them well.
H
i
}
'98
FAUST.
i
MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST).
1
These rascals have no scent for hell,
Though I should take them by the throat.
FAUST.
Good-morrow, gentlemen!
SIEBEL.
I wish you, sirs, the same.
(Aside, looking askance at MEPHISTOPHELES).
I see the blade has one foot lame.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Will you allow us to sit down by you?'
In place of dainty drinks, when these are not to find,
Good company perforce must do.
ALTMEYER.
You seem fastidiously inclined.
FROSCH.
You must have come from Rippach late to-night;
Perhaps you supped with Master Hans upon the way.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Ɔh no, we passed him by to-day,
Last time, we came, we took his message right.
For much he told us of his cousins then,
And bade us greet them o'er and o'er again.
(He bows to FROSCH.)
FAUST.
99
C:
ALTMAYER (aside).
You've got it now, he takes!
SIEBEL.
A crafty wag!
FROSCH.
Wait, only wait, he need not brag.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
We heard on entering, or I'm wrong,
Well practised voices sing in chorus.
Most excellent must sound the song
Re-echoed from the arches o'er us!
FROSCH.
Perhaps you are a virtuoso?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Though I love music much, my art's but so so.
Give us a song.
ALTMAYER..
MEPHISTOPHELES.
;
The wish of all is mine.
SIEBEL.
But let it be a brand-new strain!
/
MEPHISTOPHELES.
We are but even now returned from Spain,
That fairest land of song and foaming wine.
H 2..
"
100
FAUST.
..
1
(Sings.)
A king of high estate
Had once a favourite flea.
1
FROSCH.
Hear him! A flea! I hope you understand!
A flea's a cleanly guest at hand.
MEPHISTOPHELES (sings).
A king of high estate,
Had once a favourite flea,
His love for him was great,
As though his son were he.
He sent to call his tailor,
The tailor came in haste.
'Make breeches without failure,
And vest and jacket laced.'
BRANDER.
Be sure you bid that tailor bold
That he must fit him to a T.;
And if his head of value be,
The breeks must sit without a fold.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Silk coat, that he might don it,
Was soon with satin faced,
And ribbons then upon it,
And orders too, were placed.
And now, with e'en a larger star,
Prime Minister his trade is,
!
!
}
#..
1
}
!
FAUST.
And all the fleas, his kinsmen, are,
At Court, both lords and ladies.
The equerries came stating
They were not at their ease,
The Queen, and dames in waiting
Were bitten by the fleas.
Yet dared they not affront them
Though plagued and itching thus,
But we will crack and hunt them
If e'er they light on us.
CHORUS (shouting).
But we will crack and hunt them
If e'er they light on us.
FROSCH.
Bravo! Bravo! That was good!
SIEBEL.
So may each flea shed his blood!
ΙΟΙ
1
BRANDER.
Point your finger and crack his spine.
ALTMAYER.
Long live freedom! Long live wine!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I'd drink a glass and shout for freedom in your revel,
But how do that in wine that tastes but evil.
i
!
$
i
*
1
!
1.
102
FAUST.
SIEBEL.
I warn you let your words be civil!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
But that I fear the landlord would resent it,
I'd give to every worthy guest,
From out our cellar what is best.
SIEBEL.
I'll answer it, he shan't prevent it.
FROSCH.
i
Bring out a right good glass, and gain the praise of all.
Nor let your samples be too small.
My taste and judgment both are dull
Unless I fill my gullet.full.
ALTMAYER (aside).
They're from the Rhine, I understand.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Here, someone, bring a gimlet.
BRANDER.
Why do you ask it?
You hardly have the hogsheads close at hand.
#
ALTMAYER.
Behind you, there, the host has left his tools and
basket.
MEPHISTOPHELES (takes the gimlet) to FROSCH.
Of various drinks now take your pick.
FAUST.
103
:
FROSCH.
What! Have you sorts for every taste?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Let each man name what likes him best.
ALTMEYER (to FROSCH).
Aha! I see that you your lips already lick.
FROSCH.
Good! Then if I must choose, I'll have the growth
of Rhine,
The Fatherland gives all the best of wine.
MEPHISTOPHELES (boring a hole in the edge of the table
where FROSCH sits).
Give me a little bit of wax to make the corks.
ALTMAYER.
Aha! then these are conjuring works!
MEPHISTOPHELES (to BRANDER).
And you?
BRANDER.
Fill up champagne for me,
And freshly sparkling must it be.
MEPHISTOPHELES (bores holes, while one of the others has in
the meantime made the wax corks and stopped the holes).
On foreign produce we must trench,
Oft good things at a distance lie.
Though each true-hearted German hates the French,
He drinks their wines right willingly.
}
$
104
FAUST.
3
!
SIEBEL (while MEPHISTOPHELES draws near his place).
I must confess the sour I cannot brook,
Give me a glass of sweet and new!
MEPHISTOPHELES (bores).
Tokay shall stream at once for you.
ALTMAYER.
I doubt if in my face you'd look!
This is but idle pleasantry.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
No, no! with such a company
'Twere foolish playing tricks like these.
Come! Come! Say just whate'er you please.
What liquor may I offer you ?
ALTMAYER.
All! All! This very moment seize !
(After the holes are all bored and stopped.)
MEPHISTOPHELES (with strange gestures).
Vines with grapes are glowing,
Horns on the goat are growing!
The wine is juice, and wood the vine,
The wooden table can give us wine,
Search Nature well with earnest eyes!
Believe, and miracles arise!
Now draw the corks, and drink your fill!
ALL (drawing the corks, while the wine each one wishes
streams into his glass).
Flow on for ever bounteous rill!
1
FAUST.
105
MEPHISTOPHELES,
Only take care that ne'er a drop you spill.
(They drink repeatedly.)
ALL (sing).
We'll get as drunk as cannibals,
Swill like five hundred swine!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
These churls are free; this is the state they bless!
FAUST.
And I would fain we went away.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
But first give heed! this beastliness
Will all its glories soon display.
SIEBEL (drinks carelessly; the wine runs on the ground and
bursts into flame).
Help! Fire! Help! All hell's aglow!
MEPHISTOPHELES (speaking to the flame).
Sink, kindly blaze, and flicker low!
(To the company).
'Tis but a drop as yet of purgatorial flame.
SIEBEL.
What do you mean? You'll pay for this your game.
Scarce who we are you seem to know.
FROSCH.
Only just try a second time to joke us!
Derm
!
ww
1
1
106
FAUST.
1
F
ALTMAYER.
'Twere well we asked them to decamp politely.
SIEBEL.
You rate yourself, sir, more than rightly
Here to transact your hocus pocus.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Peace, peace! old wine-tub!
SIEBEL.
Besom-handle!
D'you greet us still with taunts like those? *
BRANDER.
I see we soon shall come to blows!
ALTMAYER (draws a cork from the table; fire springs out
towards him).
I burn! I burn!
SIEBEL.
Arts of hell!
No laws protect him; trounce him well!
(They draw their knives and rush at MEPHISTOPHeles.)
MEPHISTOPHELES (with solemn gestures).
False word, false face,
Change thoughts and place!
In every case!
(They stand astonished, and look at each other.)
ALTMAYER.
Where am I? What a lovely land!
4
í
FAUST.
107
FROSCH.
What vineyards! See I right?
SIEBEL.
And bunches close at hand!
BRANDER.
Beneath these arching valleys green
What stems and clusters here are seen!
(He catches SIEBEL by the nose; the others do the same, and draw
their knives.)
MEPHISTOPHELES (as above).
Error, cease their eyes to fold,
And mark ye how the devil plays!
(He vanishes with FAUST. The guests let each other go.)
SIEBEL.
What is it?
ALTMAYER.
What?
FROSCH.
Was that your face?
BRANDER (to Siebel).
And this your nose I have and hold?
ALTMAYER.
It was a stroke that went through every limb!
Reach me a chair, my senses swim.
FROSCH.
Now, only tell me, what was done?
:
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108
4
FAUST.
1
1
SIEBEL.
Where is the rogue? Ne'er, living, more,
If once I catch him, shall he run.
ALTMAYER.
I myself saw him through the cellar door
Ride, seated cross-legged on a tun
My feet are full of leaden pain.
(Turning to the table.)
Yet would the wine stream once again!
SIEBEL.
'Twas all illusion, lies and seeming.
FROSCH.
And yet the wine was no mere dreaming.
BRANDER.
And what's become of all the grapes?
ALTMAYER,
Mock him no more, at miracles who gapes.
Į
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FAUST.
109
WITCHES' KITCHEN.
On a low hearth stands a large kettle over the fire. In the steam
which rises up from it appear various forms. A SHE-MONKEY
sits by the kettle and skims it, and takes care that it does not run
The HE-MONKEY, with the young ones, sits near and
warms himself. The walls and floor are decked with strange
domestic implements of sorcery.
over.
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
FAUST.
All this mad witchcraft goes against my feeling;
Dost promise I can find a healing
In this delirious rubbish drift?
Shall I crave counsel from an aged crone ?
Or will some filthy brewage lift
Full thirty years from flesh and bone?
Is this the best that thou canst give?
Woe's me! my hopes are dashed to ground!
Has Nature ne'er, or spirits who nobly live,
Nobler than these, a balsam somewhere found?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
My friend, your words are wise! To cook
1
You young again you may a plan from Nature capture;
But that is written in another book,
And in a wondrous chapter.
ì
į
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110
FAUST.
i
}
And I will know it.
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Good! A plan which cheaply yields
Long years without the doctor or the witch!
Go out at once, and seek the fields,
And there begin to delve and ditch;
Confine yourself, your every thought,
Within a circle fixed and little,
And let your nurture be the plainest victual;
Live as a beast with beasts, and see you take no scorn,
The acres which you reap yourself to dung.
That is, when eighty years are worn,
The plan to find you still are young!
FAUST.
I ne'er was used to dig; I cannot make my trade
To handle with a will the spade-
That narrow life I could not bear a minute.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Why, then, the witch must needs be in it.
FAUST.
'Tis this old hag that seems absurd!
Art thou to mix these drinks unskilled?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
A pretty pastime, on my word!
Rather would I a thousand bridges build.

FAUST.
III
Not only wit and skill it needs,
But patience as the work proceeds.
A quiet spirit, working on through time,
Must bring this subtle essence to its prime.
Its various component parts
Are very strange, and strangely wrought!
The devil showed her all her arts,
But makes not what himself has taught.
(Looking at THE BEASTS.)
How fine the family you see!
This is the maid! the valet he!
1
}
(To THE BEASTS.),
It seems the lady's left the house?
THE BEASTS.
To carouse,
Up she went
By the chimney vent!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
$795
How long, perchance, may last her pleasure?
THE BEASTS.
While we may warm-our paws at leisure.
MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST).
What think you of the tender brutes?
FAUST.
The most nonsensical I ever met.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
This sort of chat to which we set
"
Is just the converse which my fancy suits.
II2
FAUST
1
(To THE BEASTS.)
Come, tell me, each accursed puppet!
What is it that you stir and brew?
THE BEASTS.
We're cooking broth, that tramps may sup it.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Why, then, you'll have enough to do.
THE HE-MONKEY.
(Comes near and fawns on Mephistopheles.)
Oh throw me the dice
Make me rich in a trice,
To pocket my gains!
All's ill-ordered, as I know,
But had I the rhino,
I'd soon get the brains.'
MEPHISTOPHELES.
No higher would this ape his wishes set,
If he might only play roulette!
!
(The young monkeys have in the meantime been playing with a
ball and rolling it before them.)
1
THE HE-MONKEY.
This is the world,
Which, as 'tis whirled,
Up, down, is driven !
A glassy sound,
A hollow round,
How soon 'tis riven.
t
FAUST.
II3
:
1
See here the light,
Which flashes bright.
Since life is given
To me, I pray,
Child, keep away,
Or thou must die!
'Tis made of clay-
The shards will fly.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
What means that sieve?
THE HE-MONKEY (takes it down).
If thou didst thieve
I soon should know thy fame.
(He runs to the SHE-MONKEY and makes her look through it.)
Look through the sieve!
And as you live,
Canst tell the thief his name?
MEPHISTOPHELES (drawing near the fire).
What means this pot?
THE HE and SHE-MONKEYS.
The simple sot!
Knows not the pot,
Nor even knows the kettle!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Brute coarse and bold!
I
:
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114
FAUST.
1
t
1
THE HE-MONKEY.
This sprinkler hold,
And seat thee on the settle!
(He forces MEPHISTOPHELES to sit.)
FAUST (who has all this time been standing before a mirror,
now approaching, now retiring).
What see I? What a heavenly form
That magic glass before me brings!
Lend thou to me, oh Love, the swiftest of thy
wings,
And lead me where that life is warm!
Ah, if I move beyond this very space,
To advance a step whene'er I list,
I see, but only as across a mist,
That likeness of a woman's grace!
Such beauty can a woman bear?
Behold I in this pictured form and face
What heaven holds essential fair?
But where on earth such beauty see?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
'Tis natural, if a God works hard for six whole days,
And then at ending 'Bravo' says,
A something passable must be.
Now gaze your fill as thunderstruck;
I can hunt up just such another treasure,
And he is blest who'll have the luck
To lead her home for bridal pleasure!
(FAUST continues to gaze into the glass. MEPHISTOPHELES,
lolling on the settle and playing with the sprinkler, begins
again to speak).
グ
​FAUST.
115
1
Here sit I, throned on high, and like a king!
I hold the sceptre here, but who the crown will
bring?
THE BEASTS (who in the meantime have made sundry strange
gestures to one another, bring the crown to MEPHISTOPHELES,
with a great cry).
Oh now be so good
With sweat and with blood
This chaplet to smear.
(They move awkwardly with the crown and break it in two
pieces, with which they dance round.)
Now all is well!
We see and tell,
We rime and hear!
FAUST (towards the mirror).
Woe's me, for I am going mad.
MEPHISTOPHELES (pointing to THE BEASTS).
And my head in a whirl is almost caught.
THE BEASTS.
If this makes us glad,
If nothing is bad,
'Tis all as we thought.
FAUST (as before).
Quick let us hence as best we may,
My bosom seems to burst in flame.
MEPHISTOPHELES (in the same position).
Nay, you'll acknowledge any way,
That these deserve the poet's name.
I 2
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}
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116
1
FAUST.
(The kettle, which the SHE-MONKEY has hitherto neglected, begins
to run over. A great flame rises, which rushes up the
chimney. THE WITCH comes down through the flame, with a'
horrible scream.)
THE WITCH.
Ow! ow! ow! ow!
Infernal beast! accursed sow!
You neglect the kettle, your mistress now.
Must singe and hiss.
(Seeing FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES.)
Why what is this?
And who is this?
!
What want you here?
How came you? Tell
May fire of hell
Scorch your bones well!
(She plunges the skimmer in the pot and sprinkles flame on
FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, and THE BEASTS. THE BEASTS
howl.)
MEPHISTOPHELES (turns the sprinkler which he holds in his
hand, and knocks down glasses and pots).
In two! In two!
There lies your brew
The glass shards ring!
The joke o' the thing!
You, carrion! sing,
And I beat time for you.
(While THE WITCH steps back with rage and terror.)
D' you know me now, you vile anatomy?
D' you know' your lord who honour merits?
1
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{
f
FAUST.
117
To strike out now what hinders me
And mash you, and your monkey-spirits?
What, have you no respect for my red jerkin ?
The game-cock's feather, looks it not the same?
Here's no disguise my face may lurk in,
Need I, then, give myself a name?
THE WITCH.
My lord, forgive the greeting rough!
And yet I see no horse's hoof.
I do not see your ravens here.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
This time I will not hold you wrong;
For after all the time is long,
Since we have seen each other near.
That culture which has made the whole world civil,
Has reached at last the very devil;
The northern phantom now far, far away with-
draws;
Where see you horns, and tail, and claws?
As for that horse's hoof, which is my lasting ban,
To many people 'twould be shocking;
And so, for years, like many a fine young man,
I've worn a pad inside my stocking.
THE WITCH (dancing).
My sense almost deserts my brain,
Since Squire Satan visits me again!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
From use of that name, hag, refrain!
118
FAUST.
;
THE WITCH.
And why? what harm has e'er come of it?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Long since 'tis written in the book of fable,
And yet mankind has reaped no sort of profit :
The evil one is gone, the evil ones are stable.
So call me Baron, 'tis a title good,
As other knights are, I too am a knight.
You need not doubt the blueness of my blocd,
See here, I bear my cognizance aright!
(He makes a licentious gesture.)
THE WITCH (laughs immoderately).
Ha! ha! I see you rightly there!
You are a scapegrace, as you always were.
MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST).
Mark me, my friend, and so learn which is
The very way to deal with witches!
THE WITCH.
!!
Now say, my masters, what's your pleasure?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The juice we wot of, fullest measure!
And since the years increase its force,
Pray bring the oldest from your treasure.
THE WITCH.
Right! Here's a flask which you may guzzle,
Whereat I sometimes wet my muzzle,
Nor has it e'en the smallest stink;
FAUST.
119
I gladly will a portion give.
(Aside.)
And yet if this man unprepared shall drink,
He cannot, as you know, a single hour live.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
He is a friend who'll thrive,upon the cup;
I wish for him the best within your hoards,
draw your circle, speak your words,
An fill for him the chalice up!

(THE WITCH, with strange gestures, draws a circle and places
marvellous things therein, while the glasses ring, the kettles
sound, and make music. At last she brings a great book,
places the monkeys in the circle, where they serve her as a desk,
and hold torches. She beckons FAUST to come to her.)
FAUST (to MEPHISTOPHELES).
Now tell me what these doings mean?
This mummery, and all these gests obscene,
This vain and foolish trickery,
I hate it, for 'tis known to me.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Oh stuff! 'tis only done to joke us;
Why sternly frown on all her funning?
She, like a doctor, makes her hocus pocus,
To heal you with those juices cunning.
(He forces FAUST to enter the circle.)
{
THE WITCH (begins to declaim from the book with great emphasis).
Now you must ken!
Of one make ten,
120
FAUST.
1
Let two go then.
The same with three,
And rich you'll be.
Then lose the four!
Of five and six,
Seven, eight, you'll fix
The witch says so, for
All is over!
And nine is one,
And ten is none.
And that's the witches' one times one!
f
FAUST.
Methinks the hag raves thus in fever.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The end is still far off as ever.
I know it well, the whole book rings with this,
I've lost much time in conning o'er its rules,
For so opposed a proposition is
As full of secrets for the wise as fools.
The art is old and new you see.
This was the way in ages dead,
Through three and one, and one and three,
A lie in place of truth to spread.
So idly will men learn and chatter
Who on a fool bestows a thought?
And men believe that some important matter
In every word they hear is surely taught.
FAUST.
121
i
THE WITCH (Continues).
The highest might
Of science, quité
Is from the world concealed;
But whosoe'er
Expends no care,
To him it is revealed.
FAUST.
Why sings she stuff like this before us?
My head will split with all her shrieking.
Meseems I hear a mighty chorus
Of hundred thousand maniacs speaking.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Enough, enough, Sibyl most excellent!
Pour out your drink for us, present
The chalice filled to reach the brim ;
My friend fears not to drink it to the lees:
For he has taken his degrees,
And many a cup has foamed for him.
THE WITCH (with much ceremony, pours the drink into a cup.
As soon as FAUST brings it to his lips a light flame rises).
Quick! down with it! and make an end!
Joy soon within your heart will glow;
You, who can call the devil friend;
Must never think the fire your foe.
(THE WITCH breaks the circle. FAUST steps out.)
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Now we must off! You may not rest.
:
122
FAUST.
THE WITCH.
And may the draught prove mixed aright!
MEPHISTOPHELES (to THE WITCH).
Demand whate'er delights you best
From me the next Walpurgis night.
THE WITCH.
Here is a song to try, and you will gain
Wondrous effects whenever you may sing.
MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST).
'Tis time that we were on the wing.
From all your pores the sweat must spring,
To fuse the force through every nerve and vein.
And then I bid you prize a noble lassitude,
That you may feel, in well contented mood,
How Cupid in your frame will move and reign.
FAUST.
But let me see that glass where late I stood !
So fairest fair that woman's form!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
No! no! the model of all womanhood
Shall soon be near you quick and warm.
(Aside.)
Now that you've drunk the witches' drench,
You'll see a Helen in every wench.
1
FAUST.
123
A STREET.
FAUST. MARGARET passing by.
FAUST.
My pretty lady, may I dare
To give my arm to one so fair?
MARGARET.
No lady I, nor pretty one,
And so can find my way alone.
FAUST.
[She frees herself, and exit.
By heaven! such a pretty child
Ne'er yet upon my vision smiled!
So virtuous and so demure,
Withal a pertness to allure.
That lip of red, that cheek of light—
Can I forget her day or night?
Her looks, no sidelong glance she darts,-
Are graven in my heart of hearts
And when on me she flashed her ire,
It set my very blood on fire!
1
1
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124
FAUST.
1
1
7
1
Enter MEPHISTOPHELES.
FAUST.
Hear, you must get for me the maid !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Well, which?
FAUST.
She passes there, you see.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Oh, she! Her priest but now has said
The word that sets the sinner free ;
Behind her chair I smuggled me.
She is a thing most innocent,
Nor needed shrift although she went,
And ne'er within my power has been.
1
:
FAUST.
Yet surely she is past fourteen.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
J
You talk just like Hans Liederlich,
Who would each fairest flower pick,
And thought that never grace nor favour
Could be, but he must taste its savour;
But this may not be always so.
1
!
FAUST.
125
FAUST.
Sir Lobesan, I'd have you know
I bear no prating of wrong or right!
So it may be at once confessed,
Unless this sweet young maiden's breast
This eve within my arms is pressed,
We separate ere dead of night.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yet much there is to do, you know!
A full fortnight may come and go
Before I find a fitting day.
FAUST.
Had I a space of seven hours,
I should not need the devil's powers
To lead so small a thing astray.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Why this is like a Frenchman's prate :
I pray you, don't be in a flurry;
'Tis no good tasting joys in hurry;
The joy is not by far so great,
As if you by degrees erect,
!
With many a tinsel bauble decked,
The puppet you yourself have moulded
As in Italian tale's unfolded.
FAUST.
My lust without it' does not fail.
;

126
FAUST.
:
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I do not wish to joke or rail;
But once for all, this pretty child
Will bend to no advances wild.
Since to the assault she will not yield,
Needs must deceit should take the field.
FAUST.
Give me a pledge of her angel-grace!
Or lead me to her sleeping place!
Give me a kerchief off her breast,
Or garter for my loving quest!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
That you may see that I will gain
To serve you, aught that soothes your pain,
We need not lose, a single minute,
I'll show her chamber-lead within it.
FAUST.
And shall I see her-clasp her?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
No!
Now will she to a neighbour's go.
And quite alone, since things are so,
You may sweet future joys explore,
In air which she has breathed before.
Let us away!
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
'Tis early yet.
!
i
FAUST.
127
:
2
FAUST.
You must some pretty present get!
[Exit.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Bravo! what presents! while the thing's so new!
I know of places where there lies
A goodly wealth of buried prize.
I go these treasures to review.
1
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}
[Exit.
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*

128
FAUST.
EVENING.
A small, neat chamber.
(MARGARET, plaiting and putting up her hair.)
I would give something, just to know
Who 'twas to-day addressed me so!
He bears himself with gallant grace,
And sure must be of noble race:
'Tis written on his brow-nor else would he
'Have ever dared to make so bold and free.
MEPHISTOPHELES. FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
In here, but gently set your feet'!
FAUST (after a pause).
Leave me the charm were now complete.
MEPHISTOPHELES (looking round).
Not all girls keep their rooms so neat,
FAUST (gazing about him).
This welcome twilight now I greet,
That creeps within this sacred shrine.
[Exit.
[Exit.
FAUST.
129
Enclasp my heart, thou pain of love so sweet!
Who thirstest till the dew of hope be thine.
A sense of quiet breathes around,
Here order and contentment dwell!
Here poverty true wealth is found!
Such bliss can be within this narrow cell.
(He throws himself into the leather chair by the bedside.)
Receive me thou, who in the vanished time
Didst take the sad and glad within thine arms !
How on this seat ancestral used to climb,
And hang the children in their merry swarms!
Perhaps to thank him for a Christmas gift,
My darling here, in all her childish charms,
Her grandsire's withered hand would kiss and lift.
I feel thy spirit, sweetest maid,
Of ordered plenty whispering round,
Which, like thy mother daily charge has laid,
How neatly on the board the cloth should be dis-
played,
And how the sand be patterned on the ground.
Oh hand so dear! and so divine!
Through thee like heaven this cottage seems to shine.
And here!
(He lifts the bed-curtain.)
What ecstasies my being fold!
Here might I bliss long hours reap.
Nature! 'twas here thou perfectedst in sleep
This angel in a human mould :
K
1
130
FAUST.
·T
Here lay the child, with warmth of life
In every breath her bosom drew;
With pure and sacred forces rife,
Her god-like form to fulness grew!
And thou! what led thee here? I feel
My very inmost being reel!
What wouldst thou do? Why grows thy heart so
sore?
Ah, wretched Faust! I scarcely know thee more.
What magic air enwraps me here?
Where fiercest joys I thought to taste,
I melt away in soft love-dream embraced!
Are we such playthings of the atmosphere?
Yet, if she came this very hour,
How would'st thou all thy crime atone;
The man so great would lose his power,
And lie before her feet undone.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Quick! for I see her coming back.
FAUST.
Away! no more I'll seek her gate. -
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Here is a casket full in weight,
I found it somewhere in my track.
The cupboard here! I'll place it in!
She'll lose her senses, that I'll swear:
1
FAUST.
'Twould be enough most maids to win,
Only to see what things are there;
A child's a child, and play is play.
FAUST.
I scarcely know.
131
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Cast doubt away.
D'ye wish to verify your gains?
I would advise your eager will
To husband every minute still,
And spare me all my further pains.
I thought not greed your heart could fill,
I scratch my head, and rub my hand.
(He places the casket in the wardrobe and locks it.)
Away! Be fleet!
In order that the maiden sweet
Give her to you with heart and will; you stand
And look as glum
As though you stood within a lecture-room,
1
And saw in flesh before you stare
Physics and Metaphysics there!
Away!
MARGARET (with a lamp).
'Tis close and stifling in the room
(She opens the window.)
And yet the outer air is chill.
I would my mother were at home,
I feel so strange, do what I will.
K 2
[Exeunt.
132
FAUST.
:
O'er all my frame these tremors fly,
A timid, foolish girl am I.
(She begins to sing while she undresses.)
There was a King in Thule
Was faithful to the grave,
Him when she died his true love
A golden chalice gave.
'Twas dearer than all treasure ;
Whene'er he sat to dine:
Tears filled his eyes, of pleasure
That this cup held the wine.
And when he found him dying,
He left his rightful heir
His cities widely lying,
But not the chalice fair.
He bid to service loyal
His knights of gentle blood,
Where stood ancestral, royal,
His castle o'er the flood.
The drinker drank full slowly,
To feel life's latest glow,
Then threw the chalice holy
Among the waves below.
He saw it falling, filling,
Then sinking in the main,
i
-
FAUST.
133
Then closed his eyes, right willing
To drink no drop again.
(She opens the press, to put her clothes away, and there sees the
jewel-case.)
Whence comes this pretty casket that I see?
I thought the press had been fast locked by me.
'Tis very strange! I wonder what within may be.
Perhaps my mother lent on it,
And someone left the pledge with us.
Here is a key tied, sure to fit,
So I'll make bold to open-thus.
What is it? God in heaven!
See!
Ne'er looked my eyes on such a sight,
Such jewels as some grand lady
Might wear on days of high delight!
The chain would suit my neck aright!
Whose are the treasures? How they shine!
(She decks herself with them, and goes to the mirror.)
Oh were the ear-rings only mine!
I scarce can think that this is I.
What use is beauty, youthful blood?
I know that these are fair and good,
Yet people pass so careless by;
And pitying give the praise they grant.
Both young and old
Thirst after gold,
And hard it is to want!
1
134
FAUST.
?
j.
[
A PROMENADE.
FAUST, pensively walking up and down.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
To him enters
MEPHISTOPHELES.
By all the lovers rejected! By all the fires of hell!
I wish I knew a far deeper curse, for I could use it
well.
FAUST.
Now then! What is it gripes so sore?
Ne'er in my life saw I a face so evil!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
At once I'd give me over to the devil,
If I were not the devil before.
FAUST.
Has aught gone wrong within your head?
Why, madman like, are you disquieted?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
But think, the brooch which Gretchen ought to
clasp,
Is tight within a parson's grasp !
FAUST.
135
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:
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*
Her mother soon found out the thing,
And 'gan to feel her conscience sting :
A woman she, whose scent is superfine,
Smells at her prayer-book's every line,
At all her household goods she sniffs amain,
To tell if they be holy or profane :
And of the jewels did not doubt
No blessing they would bring about.
'My child,' she cried, 'ill-gotten good
Holds down the soul, and drains the blood.
This will we to God's Mother give,
And so on heavenly manna live!
Sweet Margaret pouted-could not brook
On this gift-horse too close to look—
And thought, He cannot godless be
Who brought these pretty things to me.'
Her mother fetched the priest that night,
Who, when he took the joke aright,
Was highly pleased with all he saw.
He said: ''Tis so you rightly choose;
He wins who everything will lose.
Good is our mother Church's maw,
On countries swallowed whole has fed,
Nor ever yet been surfeited ;
The Church alone, dear ladies mine,
On such ill-gotten gains can dine.'
FAUST.
A common custom this you name,
For Jews and kings can do the same,
}
4X4
:
136
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Then swept ring, chain, and locket forth,
As though they all were nothing worth,
And thanked with no more 'ifs' and 'buts,'
Than 'twere a basketful of nuts ;
'All heavenly joys were theirs,' he cried-
So left them greatly edified.
FAUST,
And Gretchen ?
*
!
į
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Sits with restless brain,
And will and duty call in vain;
The trinkets still her thoughts invite,
Yet more the bringer, day and night.
FAUST.
What grieves my darling I must rue;
Go fetch again some trinkets new,
You sure have better in your hoard.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Oh yes, 'tis child's-play to my gracious lord!
FAUST.
And if you take my advice the while,
Get round her neighbour with a smile!
Nor be a devil gruel-weak,
But go new gems again to seek!
1
jo
'
}
3
FAUST.
137
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yes, gracious lord, I gladly fly.
[Exit FAUST.
This amorous fool in squibs would waste,
The sun, and moon, and stars on high,
To gratify his darling's taste.
1
:
[
}
138
FAUST.
:
#
i
•
1
THE NEIGHBOUR'S HOUSE.
MARTHA, alone.
May God my husband's soul set free
For all the wrong he's done to me!
He through the world his course has taken,
Left me to lie on straw forsaken.
I never gave him evil cheer,
God knows I always held him dear.
1
(She weeps.)
Maybe he's dead! woe's me! and yet
Had I his death certificate!
Enter MARGARET.
MARGARET.
Oh Martha !
1
MARTHA.
Why, how now, my child?
MARGARET.
Almost my knees sink under me!
I found a box of ebony
Again within the press, and piled
With pretty things, not only more,
But finer than were those before.
1
FAUST.
139.
}
!
MARTHA,
Your mother must not know the gift,
Or she will tell it all in shrift.
MARGARET.
Ah, only see! Ah, look, look here!
MARTHA.
You are a lucky girl, my dear!
MARGARET.
Yet not in church or market-place
With these on dare I show my face.
MARTHA.
Then drop in here whene'er you pass,
Here on your dress each trinket fit;
i
And walk a little while before the looking-glass,
So will we have our joy of it.
And then, if comes the occasion, say a feast,
{
We'll let them one by one by seen, and first the least.
A little chain, perhaps, or pearl i' the ear,
And if your mother see, we'll coin some tale, my dear.
MARGARET.
Who can have brought these caskets? Would I knew
Naught evil had with this to do!
(A knock.)
:
Ah, God! if that my mother were.
MARTHA (peeping through the curtain).-
A stranger gentleman! Who's there?
1.
•
140
FAUST.
:
Enter MEPHISTOPHELES.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I step within, and make so free,
I pray you, ladies, pardon me.
(He makes a bow to MARGARET and steps back.)
I would one Mistress Martha Schwerdtlein seek.
MARTHA.
'Tis I: with me, sir, would you speak?
MEPHISTOPHELES (aside to her).
I know you now, and since 'tis plain
An honoured guest you entertain,
Must beg your pardon, and will come
If by and by you'll be at home.
MARTHA (aloud).
Child, only think, by all on earth!
He thinks you are of gentle birth.
MARGARET.
A simple maid of peasant blood :
Ah no! sir, you are far too good:
Jewels and chains are not my own.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Ah, it is not the chain alone;
1
:
You have a look so piercing, and a way!
Right glad am I that I may stay.
}
FAUST.
14I
!
¦
MARTHA.
What is your message? I had thought-
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Would that a cheerful tale I brought.
Not mine the fault that I must tell :
Your husband's dead, and greets you well.
MARTHA.
Is dead! Oh trusty heart! Oh woe!
My husband dead! My senses go.
MARGARET.
You must not, dear, all hope refuse.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
But hear the lamentable news.
MARGARET.
Oh may I never love at all,
For I should die if loss should fall.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Each joy has grief, grief joy should have.
MARTHA.
But tell me how he made an end.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
He lies in Padua, and his grave
St. Anton's holy walls defend,
'Tis in a place all duly blessed,
A cool eternal bed of rest..
1
142
FAUST.
}
MARTHA.
And bring you nothing from the dead?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I bring a strong and earnest prayer
*
}
That you will have for him three hundred masses
said!
But for my pockets-they are bare.
What!
MARTHA.
Not a medal! Not a token!
Such as all journeymen within their wallets hide,
For after-memories set aside,
Though they should hungry beggars wander.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Madam, my heart is almost broken :
His goods, pray you believe he did not squander.
He rued his faults in truly Christian fashion,
But cursed his want of luck with even greater
passion.
MARGARET.
Ah me! that want of luck in men !
I will say requiems for his soul's repose.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
'Twere well your days of maidenhood should
close,
A child so worthy love to gain.
MARGARET.
Ah, no! that may not be as yet.
}
FAUST.
143
MEPHISTOPHELES.
If not a husband, then a sweetheart get;
For 'twere as one of heaven's charms
To clasp so sweet a thing in arms.
MARGARET.
Our country's custom is not so.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Custom or not! 'Tis thus they do.
But tell me now.
MARTHA.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
t
↑
I stood beside his dying bed.
'Twas scarcely more than mixen-heap,
Half-rotten straw'; right Christianly he fell asleep,
And found he had far more than he had merited.
And 'ah!' he cried; 'I hate myself right sore
In that I left my wife, my trade gave o'er.
Woe's me, the memory now I die
Oh would she pardon in this life below.'
MARTHA.
Good man! 'twas all forgiven long ago.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
'And yet, God knows it, she was worse than I.'
MARTHA.
The liar! What! to lie so near the brink o' the
grave!
144
{
FAUST.
}
1
i
MEPHISTOPHELES.
No doubt in those last breaths he 'gan to rave,
At least so far as I can know.
'I had,' said he, 'no time that was not sore bestead,
First to get children, then the children's bread,
When I say "bread" I mean it so,
Yet ne'er in peace for me was any morsel set.'
MARTHA.
Could he so soon my truth, so soon my love forget?
And all the worries day and night?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Ah no! he held them in his heart aright.
He said: ''Twas when I last from Malta hailed
I prayed for wife and children fervently;
And surely heaven favoured me.
We took a Turkish galliot as we sailed,
With precious treasure of the Sultan freighted.
Reward from courage none can sunder,
And I received, as seaman duly rated,
A very pretty share of plunder.'
MARTHA.
Ah what? Ah where? Perhaps he buried it.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Nay, who can tell where winds have carried it?
A pretty girl soon took him close in tow,
In Naples wandering loose, without a friend;
1
FAUST.
145
And with her love and truth cajoled him so:
He bore their traces till his blessed end.
MARTHA.
The rascal! Rob his babes and wife!
What could not want and misery
Withhold from such a shameful life?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
So he is dead, and let him be.
But were I, madam, in your place,
I'd mourn discreetly just a year,
Then seek some newer love to fill the vacant space.
MARTHA.
Ah God! but like my first, my dear,
I may not find another here below!
He was a pet with all his folly.
Too often on the loose he used to go,
Strange wines and women made him jolly,
And, ah! that cursed game of dice.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Well, well, a good way to arrange,
If he the same amount of vice
Condoned on his side in exchange;
If thus you always look on things,
Then you and I might swap our rings!
MARTHA.
Oh, Sir, you make your jokes at me!
L
3
1
1
146
FAUST.
1
ર્
}
MEPHISTOPHELES (aside).
'Tis plain I soon must get away,
Or not the devil himself can say her nay.
(To GRETCHEN.).
But, maiden, you are fancy free?
}
MARGARET.
What mean you, Sir?
1
MEPHISTOPHELES (aside).
Ladies, farewell!
¿
Good child, so free from guile.
(Aloud.)
MARGARET.
Farewell!
?
MARTHA.
Your leave a little while!
I ought to have some witnesses
Where my dear died, and if his grave in fitness is.
And since I'd have all things in order set,
'Twere well to announce his death in the gazette.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Madam, you're right; there's always need of two
In law to prove a thing is true;
I have a gallant, my companion here,
Who will before the magistrate appear.
I'll bring him you.
FAUST.
MARTHA.
Ah, that is pleasant.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Will this young lady, too, be present?
A fine and travelled lad is he,
To ladies full of courtesy.
MARGARET.
Before the gentleman ashamed I'd stand.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Before no king in all the land.
MARTHA.
To-night behind my house we'll wait
To see you near the garden gate.
L 2
FAUST.
A STREET.
}
FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.
FAUST.
How goes it then? Will all be right?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Ah bravo, you are all ablaze;
Sweet Gretchen's yours, and no delays;
She'll be at neighbour Martha's house this very
night.
That woman plays the part to the life,
Of procuress and gipsy wife!
'Tis well!
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
But somewhat is required in turn.
FAUST.
All service recompense should earn.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
In legal form we both must testify,
Her husband's limbs, which death has stiffened, lie
In Padua, in a sacred spot.
FAUST.
149
FAUST.
That's clever! So then first a journeying we must go!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Sancta simplicitas! It matters not ;
Just swear, though little you may know.
FAUST.
Your plan must fail if you can do but only so.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Oh holy man! Sainthood's your lot.
Is this the first time in your earthly course
A false avowal has been your sin?
}
Have you, of God, the world, and all that moves
therein,
Of man, and all the thoughts his head and heart can
spin,
Not definitions giv'n with all your force,
With daring breast and shameless brow?
Yet search your conscience' deep recess,
You know as much of these, you'll needs confess,
As of the death of Master Schwerdtlein now!.
FAUST.
Liar and sophist, as you were, you are.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yes, had we not the power to see afar.
Will you not soon, in honour's name,
Befool poor Gretchen to her shame,
And swear your soul with love 's aflame?
F
150
FAUST.
1
:
FAUST.
My whole heart says so.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Good and fair!
Of lasting love and truth as well,
Unique, o'erpowering, their spell.
That, too, no doubt your heart will swear!
FAUST.
Enough! It will!-But if my mind
For all the sighs and hopes that rise.
Shall seek a name, yet none shall find,
If through the world I press with every sense
To catch each word of high pretence,
And call the fire with which I glow
Unchanging, ever, ever so,
Is that a pack of devil's-lies?
Yet I am right!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
FAUST.
1
Now, mark you well-
I pray you once for all, and spare my lungs,
Who argue to prevail, and will but use their
tongues,
They will prevail.
But come, I'm wearied out with all this chatter,
Since it must be, you have the right o' the matter.
!
FAUST.
151
GARDEN.
MARGARET on FAUST'S arm. MARTHA and MEPHISTOPHELES.
walking up and down.
:
MARGARET.
I feel it, sir, you only humour me,
It shames me that you condescend.
Who travels much by land and sea,
Will kindly to the occasion bend;
Full well I know a learned man like you
In my poor talk will hear of nothing new.
FAUST.
One look of thine can say, one little speech
More than the wisdom of the world can teach.
(He kisses her hand.)
MARGARET.
Ah! do not stop to kiss my hand! How can you do it?
So rough, so coarse with labour stain!
Hard work at home, and I must needs go through it;
My mother's too much set on gain.
(They pass.)
MARTHA.
And you, Sir, do you travel constantly?
↑
152
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Ah! trade and duty drive us! and a vain
Regret at leaving many a spot must be,.
Where yet we may, dare not remain.
MARTHA.
'Tis well for one in early years
To roam about the world so free and brave ;
But then the evil hour nears,
And as a bachelor to drag towards the grave,
That prospect never cheers.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I shrink with dread from such a fate.
MARTHA.
Dear sir, take counsel ere it be too late.
(They pass.)
MARGARET.
Yes, out of sight is out of mind,
You have a natural courtesy,
And you are cleverer than I,
And friends in every place can find.
FAUST.
Dearest! that cleverness is oft an empty show
Made up of vanity and mere pretence.
MARGARET.
How so?
FAUST.
153
¦
1
FAUST.
Ah! that simplicity and innocence
Themselves and their pure worth should never know!
Those highest gifts of love in order due
Which Nature grants, a lowly life and lonely-
MARGARET.
Ah! think on me a little moment only;
I shall have time enough to think on you.
FAUST.
Must you your life so lonely call?
MARGARET.
Yes, though our household is but small
I only oversee it all;
We have no maid, and I must sweep, and knit, and
cook.
And sew, run errands early and late;
My mother is in every point and nook
So accurate!
Not that she need so closely calculate ;
We might be gayer, just as well as any:
My father left behind a pretty penny,
A house and garden by the city gate,
Yet quiet hours now and then I gain :
My brother serves the state,
A soldier; sister's dead.
Sore was the trouble ere her baby-spirit fled ;
But o'er and o'er I'd gladly bear the pain,
So well I loved the child.
J
1
154
FAUST.
{
i
1
1
1
FAUST.
MARGARET.'
An angel, if like thee!
I brought it up; it loved me heartily.
3/
After my father's death the babe was born;
My mother then lay so forlorn,
We gave her over almost wholly.
And she recovered by degrees, but slowly, slowly.
She could not think and never cared
How this poor infant should be reared;
And so I nursed it-lest it pine-
With milk and water, called it mine,
And on my arm, and on my breast
It throve, and kicked, and lay at rest.
FAUST.
It was a simple pleasure and a pure.
MARGARET.
Yet had I hours of trouble I am sure.
The baby's cradle stood at night
Beside my bed, and scarcely could it wake,
I slept so light;
But I must give it drink, and then must take
It near me; if it wailed, must rise,
Dance up and down the room to still its cries,
Stand at the wash-tub next, before sunrise;
Then off to market, back to work I came,
As one day was, the morrow was the same.
}
}
7
1
1
FAUST.
;
155
So goes it, Sir, not always as is best,
Yet prize we more our food, enjoy our rest.
(They pass.)
MARTHA.
Poor women have a serious task to do:
A bachelor is hard to turn.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
But could I only meet with one like you,
A better way I soon would learn.
MARTHA.
Speak out, fair Sir, have you not somewhere found
That She to whom your heart is bound?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The proverb says, 'A man's own hearth
And wife are more than gold and jewels worth.'
MARTHA.
I mean, do you not feel you need a home?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I find a courteous welcome wheresoe'er I come.
MARTHA.
Nay, nay; but have you never known a love sincere?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
With woman's heart to trifle I should fear.
"
156
FAUST.
MARTHA.
You will not understand!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
It grieves me-but I find,
J
I understand that you are vastly kind.
(They pass.)
FAUST.
You knew me, little angel, when I came
Within the garden, with a look.
MARGARET.
Did you not see I dropped my eyes for shame?
FAUST.
And you forgive the liberty I took,
What I so rashly dared that day
You just from church had turned away?
MARGARET.
I was confused-it ne'er before had been ;
No one could ever say a word uncivil.
Ah me! thought I, what is there in me evil,
Wanton, or bold, this gentleman has seen?
He thinks he need but speak, to clench
At once an easy bargain with the wench.
Yet I confess that straight within me ran
An impulse all my heart towards you drew;
Against myself my anger then began,
That I could not be angrier with you.
1
FAUST.
157
My darling!
FAUST.
MARGARET.
Wait awhile!
(She plucks a daisy, and pulls the leaves off, one by one.)
FAUST.
A nosegay that must be.
MARGARET.
No; 'tis a simple game.
FAUST.
What?
1
MARGARET.
Go; you will laugh at me.
(She plucks and murmurs.)
FAUST.
What whisperest thou?
MARGARET (half-aloud).
He loves me-loves me not.
FAUST.
Heaven in thy face to me is brought!、
MARGARET (continues).
Loves me-not-loves me-not!
(Tearing off the last leaf with gentle joy.) *
He loves me!
1
}
158
FAUST
T
FAUST.
Yes, my child! Let what these flowers say
Be God's own oracle. He loves thee!
And know'st thou what that means? He loves thee!
1
(He clasps both her hands.)
MARGARET.
I am afraid!
FAUST.
O tremble not! But let my eyes
This close hand-clinging say to thee
What words can never speak;
To give thyself to me without reserve,
And feel a bliss which cannot fade,
Eternal! Yes its end would be despair.
Therefore no end! no end!
(MARGARET presses his hand, frees herself, and runs away.
stands one moment in thought, then follows her.)
MARTHA (returning).
The night comes on.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
}
So we must haste away.
MARTHA.
This place is hard on reputations,
Or I would bid you longer stay.
'Tis here as none had any occupations,
No sort of labour
He
FAUST.
159
Than just to spy how comes and goes each neigh-
bour,
And they can find a fault in whatsoe'er you do.
But our young pair?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
There down the path they flit.
The wanton butterflies!
MARTHA.
She seems his taste to fit.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
so!
As he does hers. The world wags even so !
!
:
160
FAUST.
A SUMMER-HOUSE.
(MARGARET springs in, and hides behind the door; holds her
finger to her lips, and looks through the chinks.)
He comes!
MARGARET.
FAUST (enters).
Ah!
rogue,
where have you gone?
I've caught you now.
(He kisses her.) '
MARGARET (clinging to him, and returning the kiss).
My heart's love, and my own!
MEPHISTOPHELES (knocks).
FAUST (stamping).
Who's there?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
A friend!
FAUST.
A beast!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The time to part is come.
1
I
FAUST.
161
MARTHA (enters).
Indeed, Sir, it is late.
FAUST.
May I not see you home?
MARGARET.
My mother would-Farewell!
**
Farewell!
FAUST.-
I go, but go with pain.
i
MARTHA.
Good night!
MARGARET.
}
But soon to meet again.
[Exeunt FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES.
MARGARET.
Dear God! how such a man as he
Can think on all things that may be ;
When he is by, confused I stand,
And only have a 'yes' at hand;
A simple child, I cannot see
Whate'er it is he finds in me.
M
:
[Exit.
-
}
162
FAUST.
1
3
!
WOOD AND CAVERNS.
FAUST, alone.
Exalted Spirit, thou gav'st me, gav'st me all
For which I prayed. It was not then in vain
Thou turn'dst thy face to me from out the fire,
Gavest me beauteous Nature as my kingdom,
And strength to feel it and enjoy it. Not alone
Hast thou allowed a cold and wondering quest,
But granted me within her inmost heart
To look, as in the bosom of a friend.
Thou led'st before me in their long array
All living creatures, bad'st me know my brothers
In silent woodlands, in the air, the waters.
And when the storm in the forest shrieked and blus-
tered,
Shaking the neighbour boughs of giant pines,
Crushing and overthrowing neighbour stems,
Their dull fall sounding hollow through the hills,
Then didst thou lead to hidden caverns, showedst
Myself to me, and all the wondrous secrets
Of mine own inmost spirit were revealed.
Then rose before my sight the pure cold moon,
Softening the landscape, and there moved about me,
;
FAUST.
163
From each rock-wall, from every dewy bush,
The silvery shadows of the world that was
To mellow contemplation's sterner joys.
But oh! that nothing perfect is for man,
I find full well. Thou gav'st me with this joy,
Which ever lifts me near and nearer God,
A comrade, whom I know that never more
I may dismiss, though cold and insolent
He lowers me to myself, and with a word,,
A breath, reduces all thy gifts to nothing.
He kindles in my breast a raging flame
Which bids me follow still that image fair;
So am I tossed from keen desire to gain,
And in my gain I languish for desire.
Enter MEPHISTOPHELES.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Does not this life begin to pall?
Too much of it will never do ;
'Tis well to try it, once for all,
Then off again to something new!
FAUST.
I wish you'd occupation more
Than thus to mar my joyous day.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yes, you should rest and I give o'er
If you could this in earnest say.
M 2
7
1
164
FAÙST.
:
?
A friend like you, ungracious, dull and rough,
Would be but little loss, I trow;
All day my hands are fuller than enough,
But what may please you, meet with your reproof,
Is scarcely written on your lordship's brow.
FAUST.
There! that is just the very strain!
He would be thanked, although he wearies me.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Poor earth-son, what hadst thou of gain
In life, if I had left thee free;
I cured the long and lingering pain
į
That thine own mind had wrought on thee;
And but for me, thou wert in train
From off this earthly ball to flee.
Why, like an owl, wilt brooding sit
In caves, and where the rocks are split?
Why, like a toad, dost creep for food, and press
thy lips
To moss that rots, and stone that drips?
A pretty pastime this and good!
The doctor still runs in thy blood.
FAUST.
Dost understand, what new life-power springs
To me from all these desert wanderings?
Yes, could'st thou these fresh forces measure,
Thou wert a devil enough to envy me my pleasure.
1
•
FAUST.
165
1
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Joys truly more than earthly bright!
To lie upon the hills in dews by night,
To compass earth and heaven in joyous rapture,
Swell out the stature of a god to capture,
To dig earth's heart with coming cares oppressed,
And feel the six days' work within thy breast,
!
To gain in pride of power some wondrous bliss,
Expatiate truly over all that is,
Till all thy mortal self fade utterly,
And Intuition's lofty extasy
End-for I dare not speak the word-
Shame on thee!
(With a gesture)
FAUST.
Like this.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
What does this your prudery flout?
Then are you right a well-bred 'shame' to shout.
One dare not speak, for chaste ears may not know,
What to itself the chaste heart needs must show.
To you, in short, will I this luxury leave,
You may at leisure still yourself deceive :
That mood you will not long retain.
Again, again you will be caught,
And wait awhile, again be wrought
1
To fear, to folly, and to pain.
Enough of this! Your darling sits at home,
And all around is scant and drear;
For ever in her thoughts you come,
She holds you all too wildly dear.
!
166
FAUST.
Your fierce love came as though a torrent roared
When melting snows have bid some little brooklet
rise,
And into all her heart you poured,
And now again the brooklet dries.
Rather than thus in woods to play the king,
'Twould well beseem the gentleman
Reward with all the love he can
The simple little monkey-thing.
For her the hours are sad and long;
!
She stands at the window, sees the clouds that fall
Above the ancient city wall.
'Were I a birdie only!' goes her song,
Half the night through and all day long.
Though sometimes gay, more sad by turns,
Sometimes she'll wildly weep,
Then seeming quiét, falls asleep,
And always burns.
FAUST.
Accursed snake!
MEPHISTOPHELES (aside).
Whose coils you cannot break!
FAUST.
You rascal! take yourself from hence!
No more to name that woman dare!
Nor bring desire to clasp her body fair
Again before my half-bewildered sense!
FAUST.
167
:
1
1
!
What is it then?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
She thinks you've run away,
Nor need you any longer stay.
FAUST.
No, I am near her; were I far abroad,
I would not let the blissful memory fleet :
I envy e'en the Body of the Lord
Whene'er her lips the sacred morsel meet.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
So good, my friend! I've envied your fair hours,
A pair of twins that fed among the flowers.
FAUST.
Out, pander!
!
1
MEPHISTOPheles.
Gently now! You'rail and I must grin.
The God who formed the maid and boy
Knows too that 'tis a fair employ
Occasion meet to make or win.
So come! Is this a thought of gloom
To find your darling's sleeping-room,
And not your death indeed?
FAUST.
What is the joy of heaven within her arms?
Say that her breast my bosóm warms!
Shall I not feel how sore her need?
Shall I not be outcast and shelterless,
A monster aimless, restless still,
7
i
168
FAUST.
}
Who like a torrent wildly dashing towards the
abyss,
Am flung with violence from hill to hill?
But she, her childlike senses in repose,
Within her cottage in that meadow small,
Could in that little world enclose
Her household duties and her all.
}
I, whom God hates and mocks, was not content
But I must clasp the rocks,
By me to ruins rent,
And bury her, and all my peace as well!
And thou must have this sacrifice, O hell!
Help, devil! Shorten all my time of woe!
What must come, let it quickly come!
Her destiny meet mine with furious flow,
And we together rush to doom!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Aglow! At boiling heat again!
Go home, you fool, and comfort her.
Soon as no exit seems to your small brain,
You think the end of all is near.
Hurrah! for him who keeps him bold,
I thought you over head and ears in evil;
The whole world through there's nothing, as I hold,
So silly as a doubting devil.
{
FAUST.
169
1
1
GRETCHEN'S ROOM、
GRETCHEN at the spinning-wheel, alone.
My rest is gone,
My heart is sore;
I shall find it never
And never more.
Except he come
This hut's a tomb,
The world and its all
Is turned to gall.
With heavy pain
Hangs down my head,
My failing sense
Is crushed and dead.
My rest is gone,
My heart is sore;
I shall find it never
And never more.
I look for him only
Out into the street,
From the house him only
I go to meet.
1
1
1
t
1
170
FAUST.
I
1
1
His gait majestic,
His stature high,
His lips' sweet laughter,
His fair quick eye.
His very speaking
Is magic bliss,
His hand's firm pressure,
And ah! his kiss!
My rest is gone,
My heart is sore,
I shall find it never
And never more.
My bosom strains
To meet his clasp ;
Oh might I seize him
With eager grasp !
And kiss, and kiss him
Again, again;
To die on his kisses
Were blissful pain!
FAUST.
171
!
MARTHA'S GARDEN.
MARGARET.
FAUST.
MARGARET.
Promise me, Heinrich !
FAUST.
All I can!
....
*
MARGARET.
Now tell me, do you hold Religion duly?
You are so kind and good a man,
But yet, I think, you do not prize it truly.
FAUST.
Leave that, my child. You feel to you I'm good:
For all I love would give my heart's best blood,
Would no man of his Faith or Church bereave.
MARGARET.
'Tis not enough; one must oneself believe!
1
Must one?
!
FAUST.
MARGARET.
Ah! if I could but gain the point I meant !
You honour ne'er a holy sacrament.
?
Ї
1
172
FAUST.
I honour them.
FAUST.
}
MARGARET.
But let their use alone.
'Tis long since or to Mass or Penance you have gone.
Do you believe in God?
In God I trust?
FAUST.
My darling, who dare say,
May'st ask a sage, or priests who pray,
To him who asks the answer must
Seem to be mere derision.
!
1
MARGARET.
You do not believe?
7
FAUST.
But, lovely one, you must not misconceive!
Him who dare name?
And who proclaim,
"Him I believe?'
What flesh and blood
May have the hardihood`
To say, 'I believe Him not?'
The All-embracer,
The All-sustainer,
Sustains, embraces He not
Thee, me, Himself?
¡
FAUST.
173
Does not the heaven arch us over?
Lies not earth so firm at our feet?
Climb not, with loving aspect
Stars in the sky evermore?
Do not I see thee face to face,
Flows not the All
Over thy head and heart,
In eternal mystery moving,
Seen, and withal unseen by thee?
Yes, fill with It thy heart, how great soe'er,
And when thou feelst that bliss, how true it
is, how fair,
Call It then what thou wilt,
Call It Joy, Heart, Love, God!
I find no name for It,
Since all is feeling;
Sound and smoke the name,
Obscuring heaven's glow,
MARGARET.
All that is fair and good, I know;
The parson says almost the same,
But in a little different phrase.
FAUST.
The same is said in every place,
By every heart the light of day can reach,
His own tongue serves for each,
In my own words my creed must go.
1
174
FAUST.
MARGARET.
It seems right, when you put it so ;
But yet there must be something wrong,
You do not to Christ belong.
FAUST.
Dear child!
MARGARET.
Long time I've grieved to see
You in such evil company.
FAUST.
How so?
MARGARET.
That man who's ever at your heels,
My very inmost soul quite hateful feels;
Never in all my life before
Felt I at heart a pang so sore
As when I saw his loathsome face.
1
FAUST.
Dear love! fear not in any case.
MARGARET.
If he draw near it stirs my blood,
And yet to other men I'm good;
When your dear coming I desire to see,
A secret dread of this man seizes me;
A rogue, I think, one may not trust!
Yet God forgive me if I am unjust!
1
J
!
|
FAUST.
175
1
FAUST.
Yet such strange fellows must there be.
I
1
!
MARGARET.
I could not live with such an one as he.
If he but comes the door within,
Stands he, laughs with such a mocking grin,
Half angrily ;
'Tis plain he has not any sympathy;
And on his brow, as on a scroll
'Tis writ he ne'er loved human soul;
And when I rest within thine arm,
So happy, unrestrained, and warm,
4
His evil presence comes, my very soul to chill.
FAUST.
Sweet angel, prescient of ill!
MARGARET.
He fills my heart with dread so sore,
And when I see him come our way,
I almost think I love you then no more.
If he is there, I never dare to pray.
This eats my very heart, and you
I think must feel it, Heinrich, too.
FAUST.
'Tis what we call antipathy.
MARGARET.
Now I must go.
7
ī
t
*
1
FAUST.
176
}
1
FAUST.
How hard that I
Cannot one hour upon thy bosom rest,
1
That heart to heart, and soul to soul be pressed!
MARGARET.
Ah, if alone I did but sleep,
I'd leave the latch unclasped for thee to-night,
But mother's rest is never deep;
And should she chance on us to light
I straight were dead before her feet!
FAUST.
There is not any danger, sweet.
Here is a phial! But three drops instil.
To-night into her drink,
And lull to sleep her senses and her will.
MARGARET.
For thee I'd do far more than I can think.
But if I harm her I should rue it!
FAUST.
2
Would I then, darling, counsel thee to do it?
` MARGARET.
If I but see thee, dear, thy power is such,
}
That I, and know not why, must do thy will;
I find already I have done so much,
Scarce aught to do for thee remaining still.
1
[Exit.
FAUST.
177.
!
Enter MEPHISTOPHELES.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The monkey! Is she gone?
FAUST.
Again hast played the spy?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I heard the catechism at length;
You'd much ado, Sir Doctor, to reply:
And may it give your creed new strength.
On this point all the girls their questions ply,
Is a man pious after ancient use;
They think, if there he yields, naught else can he
refuse.
FAUST.
Ah, monster, dost not see thyself
How this most true and lovely heart
Contented in its faith,
Which by itself
Can make her bliss, must feel a holy smart
That she must hold her love as doomed to lasting
death.
!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
A little maiden leads you by the nose,
O lover, supersensual sensualist.
i
FAUST.
Whelp that from dung and fire arose!
N
१
→
#
FAUST.
178
1
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And, really, she's a first-rate physiognomist.
Her whole frame's out of sorts when I come near it,
My little mask reveals the hidden mind;
She feels that I am certainly a Spirit,
The devil she may chance to find.
Well, then, to-night-?
FAUST.
What's that to you?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I'll have my pleasure in it too!
4
FAUST.
179
1
AT THE WELL.
GRETCHEN and LIESCHEN, with pitchers.
LIESCHEN.
Hast heard of Barbara, the chit?
GRETCHEN.
I see few folk, nor hearken what they say.
LIESCHEN.
'Tis true; Sibylla told me it!
At last she's fooled herself away.
That comes of all her airs!
i
:
GRETCHEN.
How so?
LIESCHEN.
'Tis plain
That when she eats and drinks, she's feeding twain.
GRETCHEN.
Alas!
LIESCHEN.
:
And so it serves her right at last.
She hung upon the fellow long and fast!
And dancing and walking,
And in the village talking!
N 2
180
FAUST.
}
Must be the first where'er she went,
And wine and cakes as compliments he sent.
She on her fancied beauty leant,
And took without a thought of honour
The presents he would heap upon her.
And so a smile and kiss had power
To trample down her maiden flower!
GRETCHEN.
↓
Poor thing!
LIESCHEN.
And why should she your pity win?
When each of us must sit and spin,
When our mothers kept us close at hand,
By night she'd with her lover stand;
Or in the porch or alleys dark
The hours' swift flight they did not mark.
And so she'll rightly have to meet
Her penance in a sackcloth sheet !
:
GRETCHEN.
He'll surely take her for his wife.
LIESCHEN.
He'd be a fool! Sharp boys like he
Will find fresh air, where'er they be;
He's off already.
GRETCHEN.
That is bad!
i
FAUST.
181
LIESCHEN.
She'll catch it if she gain the lad.
The boys her bridal wreath will claw,
We'll strew her door with fine-cut straw.
MARGARET (going to the house).
Once I could scold with words as strong,
If a poor girl had chanced go wrong!
Hard words at others' sins I flung,
None hard enough were on my tongue!
The sin was black, I black'd it o'er,
To make the blackness seem the more ;
I crossed myself, so proud was I,
And now my sin has darker dye.
Yet once it took so fair a frame,
I could but love it when it came!
[Exit.
;
1
:
¡
182
FAUST.
1
:
THE RAMPARTS.
In a niche in the wall an image of the Mater Dolorosa.
flowers before it.
(GRETCHEN places fresh flowers in the vases.)
Incline thy brow,
O Queen of Sorrows, now,
To see and pity this my need!
Thy sword-pierced heart,
With manifold smart,
Vases of
Knows that thy Son in death doth bleed.
To God uprise
Thy sorrowful sighs
For help in his and thy sore need.
Who knoweth
How floweth
Sharp pain through every bone?
How my heart's with anguish bleeding,
How it trembles, what 'tis needing
Thou dost know, and thou alone!
FAUST.
183
And wheresoe'er I go,
With woe, and woe, and woe,
My bosom still is aching!
And if alone I creep,
I weep, and weep, and weep,
My heart is in me breaking.
The flower-pots at my window,
In morning's earliest hours,
I dewed with tears while plucking,
Mother! for thee, my flowers!
While early in my room
The sun shone clear and red,
.
I sat, o'ercome with gloom,
Already upon my bed.
J
That I from shame and death be freed
Help me and bow,
Sad-hearted Queen, thy brow,
To see and pity this my need!
:
t
1
184
FAUST.
}
¿
NIGHT,
Street before GRETCHEN'S door.
VALENTINE, a Soldier, GRETCHEN's brother.
When I was wont at feasts to sit,
Where men would brag to show their wit,
And every comrade used to swear
His girl was fairest, here or there,
And on his elbows for a prop,
Beswilled her praise with many a drop;
Then I would sit serene and quiet,
And list to all their lying riot;
And, with a smile, my beard would stroke,
Lift then my brimming glass in hand,
And 'Each man to his taste,' I spoke,
But never a maid in all the land
Is like my Gretel, fair and true,
Or fit to tie my sister's shoe.'
Tod! top! kling! klang! so went the sound,
6
And some would cry: Yes, he is right,
Of all her sex she shines the light.'
And dumb sat all the braggarts round.
And now! I fain my hair would maul,
Or dash my brains against the wall!
FAUST.
185
:
With pointed speeches, snuffling sneers,
Each gallows bird insults my ears!
I sit like one can't pay a debt,
At each chance word I needs must sweat!
And should I drub each rascal's hide
That would not serve to prove they lied.
But who comes here, and sneaks along?
Two men are there, unless I'm wrong.
If it be he, his skin I'll lace;
He shall not living leave the place!
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
FAUST.
As from yon window in the sacristy
The lasting lamp flares upward, and its beam
Grows weak and weaker till it cease to gleam,
And all around is black obscurity!
So all my breast is dark within.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And I am like some kitten thin,
Who scrambles down the fire-escape,
And gently round the walls will scrape;
So I, but in a virtuous fashion,
Am half inclined to thieve, am half-consumed
with passion.
Already haunts my every vein
The glorious Walpurgis night,
186
FAUST.
Which, pass but one day comes again,
Then why we wake we'll know aright.
FAUST.
And will that casket in the daylight show
Which I saw glimmering below?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
You soon may give yourself the pleasure
Of digging up the wished-for treasure.
The casket I just lately eyed, .
And glorious lion-dollars spied.
FAUST.
And not a jewel, not a ring,
Wherewith to deck my darling girl?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I saw some little sort of thing,
A kind of necklace made of pearl.
FAUST.
Ah that is right, my heart would grieve
Could I to her no presents give.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I trust, besides, 'twill not annoy,
If you taste, gratis, further joy.
1
Now the bright stars the depths of heaven throng,
You'll like to hear a genuine work of art :
I'll sing you a right moral song,
Quite sure to fool her tender heart.
(He sings to the zither.)
1
#
}
FAUST.
Why dost appear
To meet thy dear,
Kathrinchen here,
Ere daylight gilds the pane?
Let be, let be!
A maiden free
He welcomes thee,
But never a maid again.
O reck the rede!
And take good heed!
'Tis done indeed,
Good night, so sings the singer;
Poor things, so young,
Your love is strong,
Yet do no wrong,
Unless you ring the finger.
VALENTINE (comes forward).
Whom snare you here? By all that's evil,
Damned ratcatcher, just stop a bit!
I'll fling your zither to the devil!
And chuck the singer after it!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The zither is in two! and so it counts no longer.
VALENTINE.
Now, then, to see whose skull's the stronger!
1
1
187
188
FAUST.
}
}
!
:
:
MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST).
Sir Doctor, cautiously and quick!
Keep close to me, we'll not miscarry!
Out with your bit of fencing-stick,
And you thrust only, I will parry.
On guard, then!
VALENTINE.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yes, on guard! all right!
VALENTINE.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Again!
Again!
VALENTINE.
The devil must surely fight!
Ha! What is this? I feel my hand is lamed.
MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST).
Strike home!
VALENTINE (falls).
Alas!
{
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And so the booby's tamed!
And now away! Too hot for us this place is :
For cries of murder rise, and break the peace.
I stand in most things well with the police,
But that arrangement fails in murder cases.
:
FAUST.
189
}
MARTHA (at the window).
Help! help! oh help!
GRETCHEN (at the window).
Quick, bring a light!
MARTHA (as before).
They call and quarrel, shriek and fight,
1
PEOPLE.
Here lies one, done to death indeed!
MARTHA (coming out).
Where are the murderers, are they gone?
GRETCHEN (coming out).
Who lies here?
PEOPLE.
'Tis thy mother's son.
GRETCHEN,
Almighty God! how sore my need!
VALENTINE.
The word is quickly said, I die,
'Tis quicker still to do,
Women, don't stand to scream and cry!
Come nearer, listen too.
(All draw near him.)
My Gretchen, still a child! you never
Were, are, or will be really clever,
You manage matters ill.
190
FAUST.
}
I tell you, you may think it o'er,
Since, truth to speak, you are a whore,
Just be one, with a will.
GRETCHEN.
My brother! God! at me to flout!
VALENTINE.
"Twere best you left our Lord God out.
For all that's done, alas! is done,
All must be finished that's begun.
You took one lover secretly,
And then come others two and three,
Soon as you count a dozen down,
You'll then belong to all the town.
When first new-born disgrace appears
'Tis secret kept from every sight,.
And all men draw the veil of night
About its head and ears;
Nor even wish its life to spare.
But then it thrives and larger grows,
Its coverings off in daylight throws,
Yet ne'er becomes one whit more fair.
The hatefuller its visage seems,
The more it seeks the daylight beams.
I see the time is coming, when
Each decent, honest citizen,
As from a plague-struck corpse, so wide,
Will, strumpet, turn from you aside,
i
FAUST.
191
And in your body your heart will die,
If one shall meet you eye to eye!
A chain of gold no more you'll wear,
Nor stand in Church by the altar-stair!
Nor for the dance your pretty neck
In collar lace-betrimmed will deck!
But 'neath some wretched garret wall,
'Mid crippled beggars you will crawl,
And though from God you pardon win,
The earth will ever curse your sin.
MARTHA.
Commit your soul to God, and pray,
Lest, slandering thus, you pass away.
VALENTINE.
Had I your withered carcase clawed,
You shameless and abandoned bawd!
I trust my pardon I'd have won,
For every sin which I have done.
GRETCHEN.
Brother! like hell you torture me!
VALENTINE.
I tell you let that wailing be!
When you laid maiden honour low,
You struck my heart its hardest blow.
Through this last sleep of death will I
Go meet my God as soldiers die.
(He dies.)
$
192
FAUST.
D
CATHEDRAL.
Service. Organ and singing.
GRETCHEN, among many people. EVIL SPIRIT behind GRETCHEN.
EVIL SPIRIT.
Far other, Gretchen, 'twas with thee,
When thou still innocent
Here to the altar camest,
And from thy mass-book, now profaned,
Didst lisp thy prayers,
Thy heart half-bent on toys,
And half on God!
Gretchen!
How is it with thine head?
And in thine heart
How great the error !
Pray'st thou for thy poor mother's soul? For she
Through thee passed, sleeping, into torment long;
Whose blood is that that stains thy sill?
And underneath thy heart
Somewhat already stirs,
Wearies itself, and then
With dull foreboding presence!
FAUST.
193
GRETCHEN.
Woe! woe!
Were I but free from all the thoughts
Which rush and storm from every side
Against me!
CHOIR.
Dies iræ, dies illa
Solvet sæclum in favilla.
(Organ music.)
EVIL SPIRIT.
Wrath seizes thee,
The trumpet sounds,
The graves are open!
And thine heart,
From rest in the dust,
For torturing flames
Anew created,
Starts up!
GRETCHEN.
Would I were gone!
It seems as though the organ notes
Choked all my breath,
And in the song
My heart was melted.
CHOIR.
Judex ergo cum sedebit,
Quidquid latet adparebit,
Nil inultum remanebit.
O
•
1
194
FAUST.
#
}
!
GRETCHEN.
I stifle here!
The walls and pillars
Imprison me!
The vaulted roof
Crushes me!-Air!
EVIL SPIRIT.
Go, hide thee! Sin and shame
Remain not hidden.
Air? Light?
Woe's thee!.
CHOIR.
Quid sum miser tunc dicturus ?
Quem patronum rogaturus?
Cum vix justus sit securus.
EVIL SPIRIT.
From thee the glorified
Their faces turn;
The pure ones dread
To reach their hands to thee!
Woe!
CHOIR.
Quid sum miser tunc dicturus?
GRETCHEN.
Neighbour! Your scent flask?
(She falls in a swoon.)
}
י.
FAUST.
195
WALPURGIS NIGHT.
Hartz Mountains, near Schierke and Elend.
FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Would you not like the handle of a broom?
Mine be a big and lusty goat to ride!
The way is far before we thither come.
FAUST.
So long as on my legs I feel myself at home,
This knotted staff my steps shall guide.
What good to find a shorter mode?
These labyrinthine glades to thread at will,
Then climb the cliffs, wherefrom the rill
In bubbling torrent has for ever flowed—
These are the joys which season all the road.
See spring within the birches break,
The pine tree feels its influence,
Should not in our limbs its life awake.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Of it in sooth I have no sense,
Since in my body 'tis winter-time,
02
સ્
!
196
FAUST.
I'd wish my path were in the frost and snow.
The moon's red disk, half full, begins to climb
Sad in the heavens with belated glow-
So faint a light that wheresoe'ef you can turn.
You run against a rock, against a tree.
So wait; I'll call a Jack o' Lantern.
I see one there that blazes lustily!
Ho there! my friend, may I invite your care?
Why flicker to no purpose there?
Be good enough to light us up the crag.
JACK O' LANTERN.
Through reverence I hope I may arrange
My fickle nature thus to curb and change;
For our course is commonly zigzag.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Ha ha! As men do you would do the same.
Go straight on, i' the devil's name!
Or, puff! your flickering life shall disappear.
JACK O' LANTERN.
I see full well you are the master here,
So I will gladly do your will.
But think! the mountain's full of sorcery to-day,
And if a Jack o' Lantern lead you on your way,
You'll not be quick to take it ill.
FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. JACK O' LANTERN. (Singing in turn.)
In the dream sphere, land of wonder,
We begin, it seems, to enter.
FAUST
197
Get thee praise, and lead us yonder,
That we forwards quickly venture
Where the space is void and wide.
Thickset trees on either side
Quickly pass us row on row;
Bow the crags as on we go;
Long rock-noses send a roar,
Blown through distance like a snore.
Through the stones the brooklets pour,
Haste the brooks through turf along:
Hear I murmur, hear I song,
Or the wail of lover's lays,
Sound on this our day of days?
What we hope, and what we love!
Echo, like old tunes, will raise
Answering voice the cliffs among.
Uhu! Schuhu! scream and clap wing,
Nearer, jay, screech owl, and lapwing;
Are they waked, and on the move?
Through the bush the salamander,
Long legs, swollen paunch, shall wander.
And each tree-root, like a snake,
Winds itself from rocks and sands,
Us to frighten, us to take
In its wondrous outstretched bands;
;
:
}
198
FAUST.
From each vein, instinct with dread,
Stretches many a wormy thread
Towards the wanderer; and the mice,
Thousand-coloured, squadron-wise,
t
Through the moss, and through the heather!
And the fire-flies, flickering bright,
Thronging with their trains of light
Towards the assembly, whirl together.
But now, tell me, rest we so?
Or if we must further go?
All is turning; winds that blow,
Rocks and trees, and all the faces
Vanish, only in their places
Jack o' Lanterns swell and grow.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Hold my skirt, and grip it fast!
Here's a middle peak at last!
See with wonder now before ye,
On the hill, great Mammon's glory.
FAUST.
How strangely glimmers through the passes
A light like of red dreary morn !
And even down the deep crevasses
Below its flickering gleam is borné.
Here rises steam, here sulphurous air,
Through wavering mist there shines a glow;
Like tender thread it trickles there,
Here breaks it forth as torrents flow
FAUST.
199
י
Here creeps it in meandering length;
Through vales its hundred currents run;
Here in a narrow gorge its strength
Is closely gathered into one.
Now flashes near a rain of light,
Strewed sands of gold its sparkles mock;
And look, in all its towered height
Bursts into flame the wall of rock!
}
MEPHISTOPHELES.
How fairly for this festival
Sir Mammon sets his halls alight!
What luck that you have had a sight;
I hear the guests arriving, restive all!
FAUST.
Mark how the whirlwind hurtles through the air!
It strikes upon my neck with furious shock!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
So hold you fast these channelled walls of rock;
Or you with it adown the deep abyss 'twill bear,
The night becomes cloudy and dark
Crash in the forest the branches-hark!
Frightened the owls are, and flitting;
Hear! how the columns are splitting
Under the evergreen hall.
The branches sigh as they fall;
The trunks are mightily moaning;
The roots are gaping and groaning.
!
200
FAUST.
In the wild and hideous crash
1
All against each other dash;
Through the ruin-cumbered chasms
Hiss and howl the winds in spasms.
Voices on the air dost hear,
Now so distant, now so near?
Yes, the whole hill-side along
Streams the maddening magic song!
CHORUS OF WITCHES,
The witches to the Brocken speed;
The stubble is yellow, and green the seed.
Thither all the assembly move,
And Sir Urian sits above.
So over stock and stone they go,
The witch above, the goat below.
A VOICE.
Old Baubo comes alone; and guides
The breeding sow whereon she rides.
CHORUS.
So honour who is worthy honour!
Shout ho! Dame Baubo! Wait ye on her!
Our mother rides the sow before us,
And follows all the witches' chorus.
A VOICE.
Which way camest thou here?
A VOICE,
Over Ilsenstein,
FAUST.
201
!
I peeped where an owl in her nest did pine-
What eyes she was making!
A VOICE.
Unless you go easy!
I wish hell would seize ye,
A VOICE.
She grazed me severely;
See here my wounds clearly.
WITCHES' CHORUS.
The way is broad, the way is long;
And on it travels a riotous throng.
The fork pricks, and the besom scrapes,
The child is choked, the mother gapes.
WIZARDS.
SEMI-CHORUS I.
We slink along, like snails in pace ;
The women beat us in the race.
If hell invites a woman's pace,
By thousand steps she wins the race.
SEMI-CHORUS II.
No, no, we take it not the same;
In a thousand steps she wins her game;
But, fast so e'er she does the thing,
A man can gain it in a spring.
A VOICE (above).
Come with us, come from Felsensee!
202
FAUST.
VOICES (from below).
We gladly in the height would play.
We ripple and shine on the lakelet's sides;
But, fruitless ever, our toil abides.
FULL CHORUS.
The wind has dropped, the stars have fled,
The moon is fain to hide her head;
Tearing on, our magic chorus
Scatters thousand sparks before us.
A VOICE (below).
Stay, O stay!
A VOICE (above).
Who calls from the abysses? say!
A VOICE (below).
Take me too. Oh take me too!
!
For, climbing these three hundred years,
The highest peak I ne'er attain—
Would I were with my like again!
FULL CHORUS.
Besoms bear us, and the work
'S done by goat, and stick, and fork;
Whoso cannnot fly to-day,
Damned for ever must he stay.
DEMI-WITCH (below).
Long time I hirple after; yet
The others far before me get !
!
FAUST.
203
At home I have no peace of soul,
Yet never reached the wished-for goal.
CHORUS OF WITCHES.
This salve sets every witch a-glowing,
And every clout's like canvas blowing,
And every wash-tub sails the sky-
Who flies not now will never fly.
FULL CHORUS.
When we the highest point have found,
Then scatter over all the ground,
And deck the heath so wide and free
With all your swarm of sorcery!
(They alight.)
MEPHISTOPHELES.
They throng and press, and rustle and clap,
They hiss and twirl, and draw and flap,
They lighten, sparkle, stink and flare!
The very essence of witches is there!
Now close to me, or us apart they'll tear!
Where are you?
}
FAUST (at a distance).
Here!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
So far! In this disaster,
I'll show that I am really master.
204
FAUST.
Room! Squire Voland comes! Good people, yield your
ground!
Here, doctor, cling to me; and now, with one strong
bound,
We'll get from all this tumult free;
'Tis quite too mad for even souls like me.
But something strangely bright is flashing there be-
side us-
A something draws me to that scrubby tree-
Come, come! therein we'll lightly slide us.
FAUST.
Spirit of contradiction! On! and lead me straight :
'Twere wise indeed that we should take our flight
Up to the Brocken this Walpurgis night;
Then wish that we ourselves should isolate.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
See how the various colours flare!
A jolly club assembles there:
Among these little ones you're not alone.
FAUST.
Yet would that I were yonder gone
Where glow and whirling smoke-wreathes shine!
The crowd is on to Satan speeding;
Here many a riddle finds a reading.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
But other riddles there entwine.
Let the great world run on in riot,
But here will we abide in quiet.
FAUST.
205
This custom long ago was known,
Within the greater world each man must have his
own.
I see young witches there stark naked run;
Old ones, who veil right cunningly,
Be gracious, just for love of me!
The trouble's little, great the fun.
What hear I there? 'Tis music's tone,
But we must bear its cursed drone!
Come on! Come on! Since thus it needs must be,
I will go first, and leading you with me,
Bind you as mine with service new.
This is no narrow hall-how say you, friend?
Straining your eyes you scarce can see the end.
A hundred fires burn in order due;
They dance, and gossip, cook, and drink, and kiss-
Now tell me what can better be than this?
FAUST.
Come you to introduce us to the revel
In character of sorcerer or devil?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Though mostly 'tis my wont to come incognito,
On gala days one lets one's orders show.
What though no Garter makes my rank appear,
The horse's hoof is held in highest honour here.
D'ye mark that snail, that crawling comes our way?
for she
Already with her feeler-eyes,
!
2c6
FAUST.
That I am I begins to see ;
Even if I would I here wear no disguise.
So come! pass on, we'll have each fire in view;
I'll be the pander, and the gallant you.
(To some who sit by a charcoal fire.)
Old gentleman, why sit you here behind?
Gay in the midst each one of you I ought to find,
Where chirps around youth's revel riot;
Each has at home enough of quiet.
A GENERAL.
Who would his trust on nations bind,
Whate'er a man has done for them?
In truth,
It is with peoples as with womankind,
They never care for anything but youth.
A MINISTER.
And now from right the world has gone astray ;
I praise the good who are no more;
And when our cup with fame ran o'er,
That was the true, the golden day.
PARVENU.
We too were not then those who blunder,
Though oft we did what no man ought;
But everything is now put upside under,
What most we'd wish to keep is turned to naught.
AUTHOR.
Who now can read a treatise or oration
Which holds ideas even fairly clever!
FAUST.
And as for that dear younger generation,
They're more conceited now than ever.
MEPHISTOPHELES (who all at once seems very old).
The folk are ready for the judgment day ;
No more the witches' hill shall tire my legs,
And as my vessel slowly drips away,
The world is also nearing to the dregs.
WITCH PEDLAR.
Haste not, my masters, onward thus!
Let not the occasion pass you by !
Look on my wares with careful eye,
Of divers sorts, and numerous.
And yet there's nothing in my stall.
Like aught that is on earth below,
Which has not finely wrought the fall
Of men, and worked the world a woe.
No dagger here which has not flowed with gore,
No cup save those which poisoned pangs through
human
And healthy frames has served to pour;
No trinket which has not some fair frail woman
Seduced; no sword which was not false to oath,
Nor stabbed a foe behind, in spite of knightly troth.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
My cousin, ill the times you understand.
What's done is past, and past is done!
Keep stock of newer things on hand,
For only new things lead us on,
:
!
208
FAUST.
FAUST.
If I mistake not, I could swear
That this is just a common fair!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The whole assembly tends above ;
You are shoved onwards, though you seem to shove.
Who passes there?
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Look well, as by she'll tread—
'Tis Lilith.
Who?
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The first whom Adam wed..
Be on your guard against her beauteous hair,
With which she clothes herself-her sole attire;
When she, by it, sets young men's souls a-fire,
She leaves them not, nor may they further fare.
FAUST.
See, two sit there, an old witch and a young;
Right well but now i' the dance they sprung.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
No one may dare to rest to-day.
Ho for the newer dance! come, clasp them and
away!
1
}
1
:
FAUST.
FAUST (dancing with the young one).
Fair was the dream once came to me;
I stood beneath an apple tree,
Whence hung two apples passing fair,
To tempt me, and I clambered there.
THE FAIR ONE.
You lust for apples since the time
That Paradise was in its prime.
I feel my heart so joyous bound
That these are in my garden found.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Wild was the dream once came to me;
For cleft in twain I saw a tree
Which
!
had,
And yet it chanced that I was glad.
THE OLD WITCH.
I'll offer compliments aright,
So best to greet the horse-hoofed knight;
Let him keep
If he
•
ready,
steady.
PROKTOPHANTASMIST.
Accursed swarm! what is it thus you dare?
Has no one long since made you know
On common feet a spirit cannot go.
But now you dance, and like us men you are.
THE FAIR ONE (dancing).
Why does he make himself at home?
P
209
F
1
2 LO
FAUST.
FAUST (dancing).
This fellow everywhere will come.
What others dance he must appraise,
Save on each step his say he says,
The step's as though it never had been done;
What vexes him the most, is that we go right on.
If in a circle you would always turn,
As he does ever in his ancient mill,
He'd say 'twas after all his will,
The more if yet from you due reverence he earn.
PROKTOPHANTASMIST.
I never heard of such a thing! You still are here.
Vanish at once! We made the matter clear!
That devil's pack! by no rules can it go;
Wise as we are, ghosts still in Tegel show,
Though long I've proved 'tis all illusion sheer:
I never heard the like! ghosts still are here.
THE FAIR ONE.
But cease to trouble us to-day!
PROKTOPHANTASMIST.
I tell you spirits to your faces,
A spirit rule is not in my good graces-
My spirit so has not free play.
(They dance on.)
To-day I fail, for all things show it;
Yet I will take a journey with them all,
And hope or ever my last tread shall fall,
To overcome the devil and the poet.
|
FAUST.
211
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Now in a puddle will he quickly plump-
That is the way he solaces his woe;
And if the leeches take their pleasure on his rump,
He's cured of ghosts and mental fancies so.
(To FAUST, who has left the dance.).
Why do you leave that beauteous maid alone,
Who in the dance so sweetly sang?
FAUST.
Ah, while she sung her lays there sprang
A red-skinned mouse her lips between.
:
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And what of that? You must not look too near.
Enough it did not grey appear.
Who asks of that when shepherds meet at e'en?
FAUST.
Then saw I—
MEPHISTOPHELES.
What?
FAUST.
Mephisto, seest thou not
A pale sweet child stand far and lonely there?
She moves so slowly from the spot,
And seems with fettered feet to fare.
I must confess to me she seems
Like Gretchen in these waking dreams.
P 2
212
FAUST
#
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Let be such thoughts, which only serve to harm.
A lifeless shade, and born of magic charm.
From such a meeting comes no good;
Her freezing aspect freezes human blood,
One almost turns to stone with dread :
You must have heard of famed Medusa's head.
I
FAUST.
Yes, a dead maiden's eyes are those I see;
No loving hand has closed their stare;
That is the breast which Gretchen yielded me,
And I embraced that body sweet and fair.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
That is but magic; fool, so lightly led!
She comes to each man, in his mistress' stead.
FAUST.
What bliss! what woe! I seek in vain
To turn my eyes, then gaze again.
Strange, to adorn her lovely throat,
A red and single string is tied
As wide as is a knife back wide!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Quite true! I see the thin line o't;
She too beneath her arm her head can throw,
Which Perseus cut off long ago—
Art craving for illusion still?
FAUST.
213
}
A
Then mount with me that little hill,
Which pleasant as the Prater lies;
And if no one has tried to take me in,
That is a Theatre before my eyes.
What is the piece?
SERVIBILIS.
They're going to begin.
A brand new piece, the seventh and last they call;
To act that number always is our way.
A dilettante wrote it all,
And dilettanti act the play.
Your pardon, gentlemen, that I must go;
My dilettantism is to draw the curtain.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Since you are here, I'm glad to find you so,
Your true place is the Blocksberg, that is certain.
214
FAUST.
A CLOUDY SKY.
I
A PLAIN.
FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.
1
FAUST.
In misery, in despair! Long wandering so piteously
over the earth, and now in prison! Shut up as a
criminal in a cell, awaiting frightful tortures, sweet
wretched creature! To have come to this! To this !----
Treacherous, worthless spirit, and thou hast concealed
this from me! Stand, yes stand! Roll thy devilish
eyes furiously in thine head! Stand and offend me bý
thine insupportable presence! In prison! In irreparable
misery! Given over to spirits of evil, and to the judg-
ment of unfeeling men! And in the meantime, thou
didst rock me in tasteless distractions, didst conceal
from me her increasing woe, and allow her to perish
without help!
She is not the first.
Hound!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
FAUST.
Detestable monster! Change him, thou
everlasting Spirit! change the worm back again into
FAUST.
215
his dog's form, which he took so often willingly by
night, to trot before me, to catch the harmless traveller
by the feet, and hang on his shoulders when he had
overturned him. Change him again into the form he
loves, that he may cringe before me on his belly in the
sand, that I may trample under foot the accursed thing!
Not the first! Sorrow! sorrow! to be understood by
no soul of man; that more than one creature has sunk
into the depths of this misery; that the first, in her
convulsive agony of death, did not atone for all the rest
in the eyes of the Eternal! Mercy! The misery of
this one only pierces me through my marrow and
my life, while thou dost grin carelessly over the fate of
thousands!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Now are we again at our wits' end, where the senses
of you men give way. Why dost thou cast in thy lot
with us if thou canst not go through with it? Why
wilt thou fly before thou art sure of not being giddy?
Did we press ourselves on thee, or thou thyself on us?
me!
FAUST.
Gnash not thy greedy teeth against me! It disgusts
Great and mighty Spirit, thou who didst deign to
appear to me, thou who knowest my heart and my soul,
why hast thou yoked me to this shameful companion,
who feeds on sin, and delights in destruction?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Hast thou done?
216
FAUST.
FAUST.
Save her, or woe to thee! The most hideous curse
on thee for thousands of years!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
t
I cannot loose the bands of the avenger, nor undo his
Save her! Who was it drove her to ruin? I or
bolts.
thou?
(FAUST looks wildly round.)
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Dost thou snatch at the thunder? 'Tis well that it is
not granted to you miserable mortals! To crush the
innocent who stands in their way, that is the way of
tyrants, to get free air in their difficulties.
FAUST.
Lead me to her! She shall be free!
MEPHISTOPHELES,
And the danger that thou preparest for thyself?
Know that in the town blood-guiltiness lies on thy
hand. Above the place hover avenging spirits, and
look for the return of the murderer.
FAUST.
That, too, from thee! The murder and death of a
world on thee, monster! Lead me to her, I say, and
set her free!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I will lead thee; hear thou what I can do. Have I
all power in heaven and in earth? I will cloud the
FAUST.
217
!
gaoler's senses; do thou gain possession of the keys, and
lead her out with thine human hand. I will watch. The
magic horses are ready, I will carry thee off. That
much I can.
Up and away!
FAUST.
1
i
1
d
218
FAUST.
3
NIGHT.
AN OPEN PLAIN.
FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, rushing along on black horses.
FAUST.
Who are they who move round the raven's stone?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I know not I what they make and do.
FAUST.
1
They move up, they move down, they bend and bow.
A gang of witches.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
FAUST.
They sprinkle and consecrate.
Away! away!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
FAUST,
219
THE PRISON.
FAUST, with a bunch of keys,” and a lamp, before a small iron door.
A long unwonted dread upon me falls.
All manhood's woes encompass me alone.
Here dwells she, here behind these humid walls,
Her sweet illusion thus must she atone.
Thou dost tremble, wouldst thou flee her?
Thou dost fear again to see her ;
On, on! her death is in thy coward tone.
(He takes hold of the lock. Singing is heard within.)
My mother, the whore,
She did for me!
My father, the rogue
Has eaten me!
The bones little sister
Collected, nor missed e'er
An one in a cool abode,
So changed, I can fly as I list here;
Fly away, bird of the wood.
FAUST (turning the key).
She does not guess how near her love can draw,
And hear the clanking chains, the rustling straw.
(He enters.)
220
FAUST.
\
MARGARET (trying to conceal herself on the bed).
Woe! woe! They come. 'Tis hard to die!
\
FAUST (softly)..
Hush! Hush! I come to break thy chain.
MARGARET (dragging herself towards him).
Art thou a man ; then feel sore need have I !
FAUST.
Hush thou wilt cry the warders wake again.
(He takes hold of the chains to unlock them.)
MARGARET (on her knees).
O headsman, who to thee such power
O'er me could give?
Thou com'st for me at midnight hour:
O pity me, and let me live!
To wait for morn is not too long.
(She stands up.)
For I am still so young, so young
For death to ruin!
And I was fair, and that was my undoing.
My love was near, but now is fled;
The flowers are scattered, and the wreath is dead.
Clutch me not thus so cruelly!
Spare me! What have I done to thee?
O let me not in vain implore,
Who never saw thee in my days before!
FAUST.
221
FAUST.
How can I bear this sorrow more?
MARGARET.
I yield before thy greater might.
But let me give my babe the breast.
I rocked it on my heart to-night;
They took it, and with it my rest.
And now they say I killed it, in despite.
I never more shall gladness know.
!
They make their songs upon me! the folk act
cruelly!
An old, old story ends just so.
Who says 'twas writ of me?
FAUST (throwing himself down).
Low at thy feet here lies thy love,
Who will these bonds of woe remove.
MARGARET (throws herself by him).
O let us kneel, and call on God in prayer!
Look! how below the stair,
How by the doors
Hell seethes and roars.
The devil,
With dreadful anger moved,
Is holding revel!
FAUST (loudly).
Gretchen! Gretchen!
1
222
FAUST.
:
}
ļ
MARGARET (listening).
I heard the voice of my beloved!
(She springs up. The chains fall off.)
I heard him call! Oh where is he?
I am free! Let no man hinder me.
Upon his neck will I fly,
Upon his bosom lie!
1
He called Gretchen! He entered the cell.
In the midst of the howling and clatter of hell,
In the midst of the angry devil's crew,
The gentle voice of my lover I knew.
FAUST.
'Tis I!
MARGARET.
'Tis thou! Oh say it once again.
'Tis he! 'Tis he! And where is all my pain?
Where all the woe which prison fetters gave me?
'Tis thou, and comest to save me!
I am saved!
Again, again I see the street,
Again we seem as at the first to meet;
And that sweet garden gate,
Where I and Martha used to wait!
FAUST (drawing her forward).
Come, come, oh come!
ì
FAUST.
223
MARGARET.
Oh rest!
Where'er thou stayest I will stay.
FAUST.
Oh haste!
Shouldest thou delay,
Sad recompense we cannot miss.
+
1
What?
MARGARET.
Canst no longer kiss?
Short time apart has lain our lot-
Is kissing then so soon forgot?
}
Whence comes this pain as on thy neck I throw
me?
Once from thine every word, thine every look,
All heaven seemed to overflow me,
And I could scarce thy stifling kisses brook.
Kiss thou me!
Or I kiss thee!
(She clasps him.)
Ah, woe! Thy lips are cold,
And dumb.
Ah, who removing
Thy loving
Has dared to come?
i
(She turns from him.)
1
224
FAUST.
i
1
FAUST.
Come! follow me! My darling, oh be bold!
I'll clasp thee with embraces manifold;
But come with me! I ask thee only this!
MARGARET (turns to him).
Then it is thou! Art sure it really is?
'Tis I. - Away!
FAUST.
MARGARET.
Yes, thou hast loosed my chain,
And clasped me on thy breast again.
How comes it thou art not afraid of me?
Know'st thou, my love, who 'tis that thou dost free?
FAUST.
I
Come! come! The night begins to wane.
MARGARET.
My mother have I foully slain.
My baby have I drowned,
Thy love and mine by it was crowned.
Thy love! 'Tis thou! Scarce true it seems.
Reach here thine hand!
Thine own dear hand!
These are not dreams.
But ah, what drips-
O wipe it—from thy finger-tips.
The blood-drops run.
Ah, God! What hast thou done?
Oh place thy dagger fast
Within the sheath.
FAUST.
225
FAUST.
Sweet! let the past be past!
Thy words are death.
MARGARET.
No; thou must live! And I
Will show thee how the graves should lie:
With care these make
At the daybreak ;
Give my mother the place that is best,
Next to her shall my brother rest ;
Lay me then by the side,
Apart, but not too wide!
And the babe at the right, on my bosom.
No one else shall sleep hard by !-
Might I, nestled, near thee lie,
That were a joy so true, so sweet!
But I shall never know it any more;
!
It seems when I would kiss thee o'er and o'er,
That thou dost spurn me backwards from thy
feet,
And yet 'tis thou who look'st so good and dear.
FAUST.
Thou know'st 'tis I, so stay not here.
MARGARET.
Go where?
FAUST.
Outside.
i
:
226
FAUST.
I
MARGARET.
Yes, if the grave is there,
:
If death is watching-come!
Hence to the eternal bed of rest;
No other step, but so▬▬
Thou goest forth? Heinrich, could I but go!
i
FAUST.
Thou canst ! Consent! For open stands the door.
MARGARET.
I dare not go-for me is hope no more.
What help in flight? They lie in wait for me.
To beg's a piteous thing to do,
And with an evil conscience too!
In a strange land to stray more piteous still ;
They'd catch me, wander where I will.
1
FAUST,
I stay with thee.
MARGARET.
Quick! Quick! And save
Thy baby from its grave!
Away! And keep the ridge
Along the brook,
Across the bridge,
Within the wood-
Left, by the plank,
The mere,-
?
'
FAUST.
227
!
O seize it, dear!
It strives to rise,
And struggles still!
Save it! Save it!
3
FAUST.
But nerve thy will!
Only one step—no chains can bind!
MARGARET.
Would we had left the hill behind!
There sits my mother upon a stone;
My brain is chilled with dread!
There sits my mother upon a stone,
And nods and nods her head.
She recks not, she becks not, so heavy her brain;
She slept so long that she wakes not again.
She slept that we might play-
'Twas pleasant holiday!
FAUST.
Since weeping helps not, nor my prayer,
Thee must I strive with me to bear.
MARGARET.
Ah, let me go! I will not suffer force !
Ah, clasp me not so murderously!
For all I did, I did for love of thee.
FAUST.
The day dawns! O my love! my love!
卓
​:
C
2
228
FAUST.
!
MARGARET.
The day of judgment's
Day! Yes, it is day!
dawning:
&
It should be my wedding morning.
Tell no one how you were with me before!
Woe for my wreath of flowers!
All now is past!
We too shall meet at last;
But not for joyous hours.
The crowd throngs, not a word they speak.
The lanes, the square,
Scarce hold them there.
When tolls the bell the staff will break-
Ah, how they seize me and bind me!
Me to the seat of blood they take;
The edge which quivers here behind me
Is quivering too for every neck;
The world lies dumb as the grave!
FAUST.
O had I ne'er been born!
MEPHISTOPHELES (appears without).
Away! or doubly be forlorn.
Such useless fear! Such battling and prattling!
My horse hoofs are rattling,
Morn glimmers around.
MARGARET.
What is it rises from the ground?
He! He! Send him away!
1
!
1
FAUST.
229
Why will he where 'tis holy stay?
He comes for me.
FAUST.
No, thou shalt live!
MARGARET.
Judgment of God! to Thee myself I give!
MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST).
Come or I leave you in her scrape to be.
MARGARET.
Thine am I, Father! Save Thou me!
Ye holy hosts, keep watch and ward!
Ye angels, have me in your guard!
Heinrich!
I shudder at thee!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
She is damned !
VOICE (above).
Is saved!
MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST).
Hither to me!
(He vanishes with FAUST.)
VOICE (from within, fainter and fainter).
Heinrich
!
Heinrich!
LONDON: PRINTED BY
SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE
AND PARLIAMENT STREET

THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
GRADUATE LIBRARY
DATE DUE

!
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
BOU
3 9015 00885 8600
OCT 1 1934
Filmed by Preservation 1987
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