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 -
 -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
 -almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
 -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
 -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
 -
 -
 -Title: Faust
 -
 -Author: Goethe
 -
 -Release Date: December 25, 2004 [EBook #14460]
 -
 -Language: English
 -
 -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
 -
 -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAUST ***
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Bidwell and the PG Online
 -Distributed Proofreading Team
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -FAUST
 -
 -
 -A TRAGEDY
 -
 -TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN
 -
 -OF
 -
 -GOETHE
 -
 -
 -WITH NOTES
 -
 -BY
 -
 -CHARLES T BROOKS
 -
 -
 -SEVENTH EDITION.
 -
 -BOSTON
 -TICKNOR AND FIELDS
 -
 -MDCCCLXVIII.
 -
 -
 -
 -Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856,
 -by CHARLES T. BROOKS,
 -In the Clerk's Office of the District Court
 -of the District of Rhode Island.
 -
 -UNIVERSITY PRESS:
 -WELCH, BIGELOW, AND COMPANY,
 -CAMBRIDGE.
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.
 -
 -
 -Perhaps some apology ought to be given to English scholars, that is, those
 -who do not know German, (to those, at least, who do not know what sort of
 -a thing Faust is in the original,) for offering another translation to the
 -public, of a poem which has been already translated, not only in a literal
 -prose form, but also, twenty or thirty times, in metre, and sometimes with
 -great spirit, beauty, and power.
 -
 -The author of the present version, then, has no knowledge that a rendering
 -of this wonderful poem into the exact and ever-changing metre of the
 -original has, until now, been so much as attempted. To name only one
 -defect, the very best versions which he has seen neglect to follow the
 -exquisite artist in the evidently planned and orderly intermixing of
 -_male_ and _female_ rhymes, _i.e._ rhymes which fall on the last syllable
 -and those which fall on the last but one. Now, every careful student of
 -the versification of Faust must feel and see that Goethe did not
 -intersperse the one kind of rhyme with the other, at random, as those
 -translators do; who, also, give the female rhyme (on which the vivacity of
 -dialogue and description often so much depends,) in so small a proportion.
 -
 -A similar criticism might be made of their liberty in neglecting Goethe's
 -method of alternating different measures with each other.
 -
 -It seems as if, in respect to metre, at least, they had asked themselves,
 -how would Goethe have written or shaped this in English, had that been his
 -native language, instead of seeking _con amore_ (and _con fidelità_) as
 -they should have done, to reproduce, both in spirit and in form, the
 -movement, so free and yet orderly, of the singularly endowed and
 -accomplished poet whom they undertook to represent.
 -
 -As to the objections which Hayward and some of his reviewers have
 -instituted in advance against the possibility of a good and faithful
 -metrical translation of a poem like Faust, they seem to the present
 -translator full of paradox and sophistry. For instance, take this
 -assertion of one of the reviewers: "The sacred and mysterious union of
 -thought with verse, twin-born and immortally wedded from the moment of
 -their common birth, can never be understood by those who desire verse
 -translations of good poetry." If the last part of this statement had read
 -"by those who can be contented with _prose_ translations of good poetry,"
 -the position would have been nearer the truth. This much we might well
 -admit, that, if the alternative were either to have a poem like Faust in a
 -metre different and glaringly different from the original, or to have it
 -in simple and strong prose, then the latter alternative would be the one
 -every tasteful and feeling scholar would prefer; but surely to every one
 -who can read the original or wants to know how this great song _sung
 -itself_ (as Carlyle says) out of Goethe's soul, a mere prose rendering
 -must be, comparatively, a _corpus mortuum._
 -
 -The translator most heartily dissents from Hayward's assertion that a
 -translator of Faust "must sacrifice either metre or meaning." At least he
 -flatters himself that he has made, in the main, (not a compromise between
 -meaning and melody, though in certain instances he may have fallen into
 -that, but) a combination of the meaning with the melody, which latter is
 -so important, so vital a part of the lyric poem's meaning, in any worthy
 -sense. "No poetic translation," says Hayward's reviewer, already quoted,
 -"can give the rhythm and rhyme of the original; it can only substitute the
 -rhythm and rhyme of the translator." One might just as well say "no
 -_prose_ translation can give the _sense and spirit_ of the original; it
 -can only substitute the _sense and spirit of the words and phrases of the
 -translator's language_;" and then, these two assertions balancing each
 -other, there will remain in the metrical translator's favor, that he may
 -come as near to giving both the letter and the spirit, as the effects of
 -the Babel dispersion will allow.
 -
 -As to the original creation, which he has attempted here to reproduce, the
 -translator might say something, but prefers leaving his readers to the
 -poet himself, as revealed in the poem, and to the various commentaries of
 -which we have some accounts, at least, in English. A French translator of
 -the poem speaks in his introduction as follows: "This Faust, conceived by
 -him in his youth, completed in ripe age, the idea of which he carried with
 -him through all the commotions of his life, as Camoens bore his poem with
 -him through the waves, this Faust contains him entire. The thirst for
 -knowledge and the martyrdom of doubt, had they not tormented his early
 -years? Whence came to him the thought of taking refuge in a supernatural
 -realm, of appealing to invisible powers, which plunged him, for a
 -considerable time, into the dreams of Illuminati and made him even invent
 -a religion?  This irony of Mephistopheles, who carries on so audacious a
 -game with the weakness and the desires of man, is it not the mocking,
 -scornful side of the poet's spirit, a leaning to sullenness, which can be
 -traced even into the earliest years of his life, a bitter leaven thrown
 -into a strong soul forever by early satiety? The character of Faust
 -especially, the man whose burning, untiring heart can neither enjoy
 -fortune nor do without it, who gives himself unconditionally and watches
 -himself with mistrust, who unites the enthusiasm of passion and the
 -dejectedness of despair, is not this an eloquent opening up of the most
 -secret and tumultuous part of the poet's soul? And now, to complete the
 -image of his inner life, he has added the transcendingly sweet person of
 -Margaret, an exalted reminiscence of a young girl, by whom, at the age of
 -fourteen, he thought himself beloved, whose image ever floated round him,
 -and has contributed some traits to each of his heroines. This heavenly
 -surrender of a simple, good, and tender heart contrasts wonderfully with
 -the sensual and gloomy passion of the lover, who, in the midst of his
 -love-dreams, is persecuted by the phantoms of his imagination and by the
 -nightmares of thought, with those sorrows of a soul, which is crushed, but
 -not extinguished, which is tormented by the invincible want of happiness
 -and the bitter feeling, how hard a thing it is to receive or to bestow."
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -DEDICATION.[1]
 -
 -Once more ye waver dreamily before me,
 -Forms that so early cheered my troubled eyes!
 -To hold you fast doth still my heart implore me?
 -Still bid me clutch the charm that lures and flies?
 -Ye crowd around! come, then, hold empire o'er me,
 -As from the mist and haze of thought ye rise;
 -The magic atmosphere, your train enwreathing,
 -Through my thrilled bosom youthful bliss is breathing.
 -
 -Ye bring with you the forms of hours Elysian,
 -And shades of dear ones rise to meet my gaze;
 -First Love and Friendship steal upon my vision
 -Like an old tale of legendary days;
 -Sorrow renewed, in mournful repetition,
 -Runs through life's devious, labyrinthine ways;
 -And, sighing, names the good (by Fortune cheated
 -Of blissful hours!) who have before me fleeted.
 -
 -These later songs of mine, alas! will never
 -Sound in their ears to whom the first were sung!
 -Scattered like dust, the friendly throng forever!
 -Mute the first echo that so grateful rung!
 -To the strange crowd I sing, whose very favor
 -Like chilling sadness on my heart is flung;
 -And all that kindled at those earlier numbers
 -Roams the wide earth or in its bosom slumbers.
 -
 -And now I feel a long-unwonted yearning
 -For that calm, pensive spirit-realm, to-day;
 -Like an Aeolian lyre, (the breeze returning,)
 -Floats in uncertain tones my lisping lay;
 -Strange awe comes o'er me, tear on tear falls burning,
 -The rigid heart to milder mood gives way!
 -What I possess I see afar off lying,
 -And what I lost is real and undying.
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -PRELUDE
 -
 -IN THE THEATRE.
 -
 -
 -  _Manager. Dramatic Poet. Merry Person._
 -
 -_Manager_. You who in trouble and distress
 -Have both held fast your old allegiance,
 -What think ye? here in German regions
 -Our enterprise may hope success?
 -To please the crowd my purpose has been steady,
 -Because they live and let one live at least.
 -The posts are set, the boards are laid already,
 -And every one is looking for a feast.
 -They sit, with lifted brows, composed looks wearing,
 -Expecting something that shall set them staring.
 -I know the public palate, that's confest;
 -Yet never pined so for a sound suggestion;
 -True, they are not accustomed to the best,
 -But they have read a dreadful deal, past question.
 -How shall we work to make all fresh and new,
 -Acceptable and profitable, too?
 -For sure I love to see the torrent boiling,
 -When towards our booth they crowd to find a place,
 -Now rolling on a space and then recoiling,
 -Then squeezing through the narrow door of grace:
 -Long before dark each one his hard-fought station
 -In sight of the box-office window takes,
 -And as, round bakers' doors men crowd to escape starvation,
 -For tickets here they almost break their necks.
 -This wonder, on so mixed a mass, the Poet
 -Alone can work; to-day, my friend, O, show it!
 -
 -_Poet_. Oh speak not to me of that motley ocean,
 -Whose roar and greed the shuddering spirit chill!
 -Hide from my sight that billowy commotion
 -That draws us down the whirlpool 'gainst our will.
 -No, lead me to that nook of calm devotion,
 -Where blooms pure joy upon the Muses' hill;
 -Where love and friendship aye create and cherish,
 -With hand divine, heart-joys that never perish.
 -Ah! what, from feeling's deepest fountain springing,
 -Scarce from the stammering lips had faintly passed,
 -Now, hopeful, venturing forth, now shyly clinging,
 -To the wild moment's cry a prey is cast.
 -Oft when for years the brain had heard it ringing
 -It comes in full and rounded shape at last.
 -What shines, is born but for the moment's pleasure;
 -The genuine leaves posterity a treasure.
 -
 -_Merry Person_. Posterity! I'm sick of hearing of it;
 -Supposing I the future age would profit,
 -Who then would furnish ours with fun?
 -For it must have it, ripe and mellow;
 -The presence of a fine young fellow,
 -Is cheering, too, methinks, to any one.
 -Whoso can pleasantly communicate,
 -Will not make war with popular caprices,
 -For, as the circle waxes great,
 -The power his word shall wield increases.
 -Come, then, and let us now a model see,
 -Let Phantasy with all her various choir,
 -Sense, reason, passion, sensibility,
 -But, mark me, folly too! the scene inspire.
 -
 -_Manager_. But the great point is action! Every one
 -Comes as spectator, and the show's the fun.
 -Let but the plot be spun off fast and thickly,
 -So that the crowd shall gape in broad surprise,
 -Then have you made a wide impression quickly,
 -You are the man they'll idolize.
 -The mass can only be impressed by masses;
 -Then each at last picks out his proper part.
 -Give much, and then to each one something passes,
 -And each one leaves the house with happy heart.
 -Have you a piece, give it at once in pieces!
 -Such a ragout your fame increases;
 -It costs as little pains to play as to invent.
 -But what is gained, if you a whole present?
 -Your public picks it presently to pieces.
 -
 -_Poet_. You do not feel how mean a trade like that must be!
 -In the true Artist's eyes how false and hollow!
 -Our genteel botchers, well I see,
 -Have given the maxims that you follow.
 -
 -_Manager_. Such charges pass me like the idle wind;
 -A man who has right work in mind
 -Must choose the instruments most fitting.
 -Consider what soft wood you have for splitting,
 -And keep in view for whom you write!
 -If this one from _ennui_ seeks flight,
 -That other comes full from the groaning table,
 -Or, the worst case of all to cite,
 -From reading journals is for thought unable.
 -Vacant and giddy, all agog for wonder,
 -As to a masquerade they wing their way;
 -The ladies give themselves and all their precious plunder
 -And without wages help us play.
 -On your poetic heights what dream comes o'er you?
 -What glads a crowded house? Behold
 -Your patrons in array before you!
 -One half are raw, the other cold.
 -One, after this play, hopes to play at cards,
 -One a wild night to spend beside his doxy chooses,
 -Poor fools, why court ye the regards,
 -For such a set, of the chaste muses?
 -I tell you, give them more and ever more and more,
 -And then your mark you'll hardly stray from ever;
 -To mystify be your endeavor,
 -To satisfy is labor sore....
 -What ails you? Are you pleased or pained? What notion----
 -
 -_Poet_. Go to, and find thyself another slave!
 -What! and the lofty birthright Nature gave,
 -The noblest talent Heaven to man has lent,
 -Thou bid'st the Poet fling to folly's ocean!
 -How does he stir each deep emotion?
 -How does he conquer every element?
 -But by the tide of song that from his bosom springs,
 -And draws into his heart all living things?
 -When Nature's hand, in endless iteration,
 -The thread across the whizzing spindle flings,
 -When the complex, monotonous creation
 -Jangles with all its million strings:
 -Who, then, the long, dull series animating,
 -Breaks into rhythmic march the soulless round?
 -And, to the law of All each member consecrating,
 -Bids one majestic harmony resound?
 -Who bids the tempest rage with passion's power?
 -The earnest soul with evening-redness glow?
 -Who scatters vernal bud and summer flower
 -Along the path where loved ones go?
 -Who weaves each green leaf in the wind that trembles
 -To form the wreath that merit's brow shall crown?
 -Who makes Olympus fast? the gods assembles?
 -The power of manhood in the Poet shown.
 -
 -_Merry Person_. Come, then, put forth these noble powers,
 -And, Poet, let thy path of flowers
 -Follow a love-adventure's winding ways.
 -One comes and sees by chance, one burns, one stays,
 -And feels the gradual, sweet entangling!
 -The pleasure grows, then comes a sudden jangling,
 -Then rapture, then distress an arrow plants,
 -And ere one dreams of it, lo! _there_ is a romance.
 -Give us a drama in this fashion!
 -Plunge into human life's full sea of passion!
 -Each lives it, few its meaning ever guessed,
 -Touch where you will, 'tis full of interest.
 -Bright shadows fleeting o'er a mirror,
 -A spark of truth and clouds of error,
 -By means like these a drink is brewed
 -To cheer and edify the multitude.
 -The fairest flower of the youth sit listening
 -Before your play, and wait the revelation;
 -Each melancholy heart, with soft eyes glistening,
 -Draws sad, sweet nourishment from your creation;
 -This passion now, now that is stirred, by turns,
 -And each one sees what in his bosom burns.
 -Open alike, as yet, to weeping and to laughter,
 -They still admire the flights, they still enjoy the show;
 -Him who is formed, can nothing suit thereafter;
 -The yet unformed with thanks will ever glow.
 -
 -_Poet_. Ay, give me back the joyous hours,
 -When I myself was ripening, too,
 -When song, the fount, flung up its showers
 -Of beauty ever fresh and new.
 -When a soft haze the world was veiling,
 -Each bud a miracle bespoke,
 -And from their stems a thousand flowers I broke,
 -Their fragrance through the vales exhaling.
 -I nothing and yet all possessed,
 -Yearning for truth and in illusion blest.
 -Give me the freedom of that hour,
 -The tear of joy, the pleasing pain,
 -Of hate and love the thrilling power,
 -Oh, give me back my youth again!
 -
 -_Merry Person_. Youth, my good friend, thou needest certainly
 -When ambushed foes are on thee springing,
 -When loveliest maidens witchingly
 -Their white arms round thy neck are flinging,
 -When the far garland meets thy glance,
 -High on the race-ground's goal suspended,
 -When after many a mazy dance
 -In drink and song the night is ended.
 -But with a free and graceful soul
 -To strike the old familiar lyre,
 -And to a self-appointed goal
 -Sweep lightly o'er the trembling wire,
 -There lies, old gentlemen, to-day
 -Your task; fear not, no vulgar error blinds us.
 -Age does not make us childish, as they say,
 -But we are still true children when it finds us.
 -
 -_Manager_. Come, words enough you two have bandied,
 -Now let us see some deeds at last;
 -While you toss compliments full-handed,
 -The time for useful work flies fast.
 -Why talk of being in the humor?
 -Who hesitates will never be.
 -If you are poets (so says rumor)
 -Now then command your poetry.
 -You know full well our need and pleasure,
 -We want strong drink in brimming measure;
 -Brew at it now without delay!
 -To-morrow will not do what is not done to-day.
 -Let not a day be lost in dallying,
 -But seize the possibility
 -Right by the forelock, courage rallying,
 -And forth with fearless spirit sallying,--
 -Once in the yoke and you are free.
 -  Upon our German boards, you know it,
 -What any one would try, he may;
 -Then stint me not, I beg, to-day,
 -In scenery or machinery, Poet.
 -With great and lesser heavenly lights make free,
 -Spend starlight just as you desire;
 -No want of water, rocks or fire
 -Or birds or beasts to you shall be.
 -So, in this narrow wooden house's bound,
 -Stride through the whole creation's round,
 -And with considerate swiftness wander
 -From heaven, through this world, to the world down yonder.
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -    PROLOGUE
 -
 -
 -    IN HEAVEN.
 -
 -
 -[THE LORD. THE HEAVENLY HOSTS _afterward_ MEPHISTOPHELES.
 -_The three archangels_, RAPHAEL, GABRIEL, _and_ MICHAEL, _come forward_.]
 -
 -_Raphael_. The sun, in ancient wise, is sounding,
 -  With brother-spheres, in rival song;
 -And, his appointed journey rounding,
 -  With thunderous movement rolls along.
 -His look, new strength to angels lending,
 -  No creature fathom can for aye;
 -The lofty works, past comprehending,
 -  Stand lordly, as on time's first day.
 -
 -_Gabriel_. And swift, with wondrous swiftness fleeting,
 -  The pomp of earth turns round and round,
 -The glow of Eden alternating
 -  With shuddering midnight's gloom profound;
 -Up o'er the rocks the foaming ocean
 -  Heaves from its old, primeval bed,
 -And rocks and seas, with endless motion,
 -  On in the spheral sweep are sped.
 -
 -_Michael_. And tempests roar, glad warfare waging,
 -  From sea to land, from land to sea,
 -And bind round all, amidst their raging,
 -  A chain of giant energy.
 -There, lurid desolation, blazing,
 -  Foreruns the volleyed thunder's way:
 -Yet, Lord, thy messengers[2] are praising
 -  The mild procession of thy day.
 -
 -_All Three_. The sight new strength to angels lendeth,
 -  For none thy being fathom may,
 -The works, no angel comprehendeth,
 -  Stand lordly as on time's first day.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Since, Lord, thou drawest near us once again,
 -And how we do, dost graciously inquire,
 -And to be pleased to see me once didst deign,
 -I too among thy household venture nigher.
 -Pardon, high words I cannot labor after,
 -Though the whole court should look on me with scorn;
 -My pathos certainly would stir thy laughter,
 -Hadst thou not laughter long since quite forsworn.
 -Of sun and worlds I've nought to tell worth mention,
 -How men torment themselves takes my attention.
 -The little God o' the world jogs on the same old way
 -And is as singular as on the world's first day.
 -A pity 'tis thou shouldst have given
 -The fool, to make him worse, a gleam of light from heaven;
 -He calls it reason, using it
 -To be more beast than ever beast was yet.
 -He seems to me, (your grace the word will pardon,)
 -Like a long-legg'd grasshopper in the garden,
 -Forever on the wing, and hops and sings
 -The same old song, as in the grass he springs;
 -Would he but stay there! no; he needs must muddle
 -His prying nose in every puddle.
 -
 -_The Lord_. Hast nothing for our edification?
 -Still thy old work of accusation?
 -Will things on earth be never right for thee?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. No, Lord! I find them still as bad as bad can be.
 -Poor souls! their miseries seem so much to please 'em,
 -I scarce can find it in my heart to tease 'em.
 -
 -_The Lord_. Knowest thou Faust?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. The Doctor?
 -
 -_The Lord_. Ay, my servant!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_.        He!
 -Forsooth! he serves you in a famous fashion;
 -No earthly meat or drink can feed his passion;
 -Its grasping greed no space can measure;
 -Half-conscious and half-crazed, he finds no rest;
 -The fairest stars of heaven must swell his treasure.
 -Each highest joy of earth must yield its zest,
 -Not all the world--the boundless azure--
 -Can fill the void within his craving breast.
 -
 -_The Lord_. He serves me somewhat darkly, now, I grant,
 -Yet will he soon attain the light of reason.
 -Sees not the gardener, in the green young plant,
 -That bloom and fruit shall deck its coming season?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. What will you bet? You'll surely lose your wager!
 -If you will give me leave henceforth,
 -To lead him softly on, like an old stager.
 -
 -_The Lord_. So long as he shall live on earth,
 -Do with him all that you desire.
 -Man errs and staggers from his birth.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Thank you; I never did aspire
 -To have with dead folk much transaction.
 -In full fresh cheeks I take the greatest satisfaction.
 -A corpse will never find me in the house;
 -I love to play as puss does with the mouse.
 -
 -_The Lord_. All right, I give thee full permission!
 -Draw down this spirit from its source,
 -And, canst thou catch him, to perdition
 -Carry him with thee in thy course,
 -But stand abashed, if thou must needs confess,
 -That a good man, though passion blur his vision,
 -Has of the right way still a consciousness.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Good! but I'll make it a short story.
 -About my wager I'm by no means sorry.
 -And if I gain my end with glory
 -Allow me to exult from a full breast.
 -Dust shall he eat and that with zest,
 -Like my old aunt, the snake, whose fame is hoary.
 -
 -_The Lord_. Well, go and come, and make thy trial;
 -The like of thee I never yet did hate.
 -Of all the spirits of denial
 -The scamp is he I best can tolerate.
 -Man is too prone, at best, to seek the way that's easy,
 -He soon grows fond of unconditioned rest;
 -And therefore such a comrade suits him best,
 -Who spurs and works, true devil, always busy.
 -But you, true sons of God, in growing measure,
 -Enjoy rich beauty's living stores of pleasure!
 -The Word[3] divine that lives and works for aye,
 -Fold you in boundless love's embrace alluring,
 -And what in floating vision glides away,
 -That seize ye and make fast with thoughts enduring.
 -
 -[_Heaven closes, the archangels disperse._]
 -
 -_Mephistopheles. [Alone.]_ I like at times to exchange with him a word,
 -And take care not to break with him. 'Tis civil
 -In the old fellow[4] and so great a Lord
 -To talk so kindly with the very devil.
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -    FAUST.
 -
 -
 -    _Night. In a narrow high-arched Gothic room_,
 -    FAUST _sitting uneasy at his desk_.
 -
 -_Faust_. Have now, alas! quite studied through
 -Philosophy and Medicine,
 -And Law, and ah! Theology, too,
 -With hot desire the truth to win!
 -And here, at last, I stand, poor fool!
 -As wise as when I entered school;
 -Am called Magister, Doctor, indeed,--
 -Ten livelong years cease not to lead
 -Backward and forward, to and fro,
 -My scholars by the nose--and lo!
 -Just nothing, I see, is the sum of our learning,
 -To the very core of my heart 'tis burning.
 -'Tis true I'm more clever than all the foplings,
 -Doctors, Magisters, Authors, and Popelings;
 -Am plagued by no scruple, nor doubt, nor cavil,
 -Nor lingering fear of hell or devil--
 -What then? all pleasure is fled forever;
 -To know one thing I vainly endeavor,
 -There's nothing wherein one fellow-creature
 -Could be mended or bettered with me for a teacher.
 -And then, too, nor goods nor gold have I,
 -Nor fame nor worldly dignity,--
 -A condition no dog could longer live in!
 -And so to magic my soul I've given,
 -If, haply, by spirits' mouth and might,
 -Some mysteries may not be brought to light;
 -That to teach, no longer may be my lot,
 -With bitter sweat, what I need to be taught;
 -That I may know what the world contains
 -In its innermost heart and finer veins,
 -See all its energies and seeds
 -And deal no more in words but in deeds.
 -  O full, round Moon, didst thou but thine
 -For the last time on this woe of mine!
 -Thou whom so many a midnight I
 -Have watched, at this desk, come up the sky:
 -O'er books and papers, a dreary pile,
 -Then, mournful friend! uprose thy smile!
 -Oh that I might on the mountain-height,
 -Walk in the noon of thy blessed light,
 -Round mountain-caverns with spirits hover,
 -Float in thy gleamings the meadows over,
 -And freed from the fumes of a lore-crammed brain,
 -Bathe in thy dew and be well again!
 -  Woe! and these walls still prison me?
 -Dull, dismal hole! my curse on thee!
 -Where heaven's own light, with its blessed beams,
 -Through painted panes all sickly gleams!
 -Hemmed in by these old book-piles tall,
 -Which, gnawed by worms and deep in must,
 -Rise to the roof against a wall
 -Of smoke-stained paper, thick with dust;
 -'Mid glasses, boxes, where eye can see,
 -Filled with old, obsolete instruments,
 -Stuffed with old heirlooms of implements--
 -That is thy world! There's a world for thee!
 -  And still dost ask what stifles so
 -The fluttering heart within thy breast?
 -By what inexplicable woe
 -The springs of life are all oppressed?
 -Instead of living nature, where
 -God made and planted men, his sons,
 -Through smoke and mould, around thee stare
 -Grim skeletons and dead men's bones.
 -  Up! Fly! Far out into the land!
 -And this mysterious volume, see!
 -By Nostradamus's[5] own hand,
 -Is it not guide enough for thee?
 -Then shalt thou thread the starry skies,
 -And, taught by nature in her walks,
 -The spirit's might shall o'er thee rise,
 -As ghost to ghost familiar talks.
 -Vain hope that mere dry sense should here
 -Explain the holy signs to thee.
 -I feel you, spirits, hovering near;
 -Oh, if you hear me, answer me!
 -        [_He opens the book and beholds the sign of the Macrocosm.[_6]]
 -Ha! as I gaze, what ecstasy is this,
 -In one full tide through all my senses flowing!
 -I feel a new-born life, a holy bliss
 -Through nerves and veins mysteriously glowing.
 -Was it a God who wrote each sign?
 -Which, all my inner tumult stilling,
 -And this poor heart with rapture filling,
 -Reveals to me, by force divine,
 -Great Nature's energies around and through me thrilling?
 -Am I a God? It grows so bright to me!
 -Each character on which my eye reposes
 -Nature in act before my soul discloses.
 -The sage's word was truth, at last I see:
 -"The spirit-world, unbarred, is waiting;
 -Thy sense is locked, thy heart is dead!
 -Up, scholar, bathe, unhesitating,
 -The earthly breast in morning-red!"
 -                           [_He contemplates the sign._]
 -How all one whole harmonious weaves,
 -Each in the other works and lives!
 -See heavenly powers ascending and descending,
 -The golden buckets, one long line, extending!
 -See them with bliss-exhaling pinions winging
 -Their way from heaven through earth--their singing
 -Harmonious through the universe is ringing!
 -  Majestic show! but ah! a show alone!
 -Nature! where find I thee, immense, unknown?
 -Where you, ye breasts? Ye founts all life sustaining,
 -On which hang heaven and earth, and where
 -Men's withered hearts their waste repair--
 -Ye gush, ye nurse, and I must sit complaining?
 -  [_He opens reluctantly the book and sees the sign of the earth-spirit._]
 -How differently works on me this sign!
 -Thou, spirit of the earth, art to me nearer;
 -I feel my powers already higher, clearer,
 -I glow already as with new-pressed wine,
 -I feel the mood to brave life's ceaseless clashing,
 -To bear its frowning woes, its raptures flashing,
 -To mingle in the tempest's dashing,
 -And not to tremble in the shipwreck's crashing;
 -Clouds gather o'er my head--
 -Them moon conceals her light--
 -The lamp goes out!
 -It smokes!--Red rays are darting, quivering
 -Around my head--comes down
 -A horror from the vaulted roof
 -And seizes me!
 -Spirit that I invoked, thou near me art,
 -Unveil thyself!
 -Ha! what a tearing in my heart!
 -Upheaved like an ocean
 -My senses toss with strange emotion!
 -I feel my heart to thee entirely given!
 -Thou must! and though the price were life--were heaven!
 -  [_He seizes the book and pronounces mysteriously the sign of the spirit.
 -   A ruddy flame darts out, the spirit appears in the flame._]
 -
 -_Spirit_. Who calls upon me?
 -
 -_Faust. [Turning away.]_ Horrid sight!
 -
 -_Spirit_. Long have I felt the mighty action,
 -Upon my sphere, of thy attraction,
 -And now--
 -
 -_Faust_.   Away, intolerable sprite!
 -
 -_Spirit_. Thou breath'st a panting supplication
 -To hear my voice, my face to see;
 -Thy mighty prayer prevails on me,
 -I come!--what miserable agitation
 -Seizes this demigod! Where is the cry of thought?
 -Where is the breast? that in itself a world begot,
 -And bore and cherished, that with joy did tremble
 -And fondly dream us spirits to resemble.
 -Where art thou, Faust? whose voice rang through my ear,
 -Whose mighty yearning drew me from my sphere?
 -Is this thing thou? that, blasted by my breath,
 -Through all life's windings shuddereth,
 -A shrinking, cringing, writhing worm!
 -
 -_Faust_. Thee, flame-born creature, shall I fear?
 -'Tis I, 'tis Faust, behold thy peer!
 -
 -_Spirit_. In life's tide currents, in action's storm,
 -Up and down, like a wave,
 -Like the wind I sweep!
 -Cradle and grave--
 -A limitless deep---
 -An endless weaving
 -To and fro,
 -A restless heaving
 -Of life and glow,--
 -So shape I, on Destiny's thundering loom,
 -The Godhead's live garment, eternal in bloom.
 -
 -_Faust_. Spirit that sweep'st the world from end to end,
 -How near, this hour, I feel myself to thee!
 -
 -_Spirit_. Thou'rt like the spirit thou canst comprehend,
 -Not me!             [_Vanishes._]
 -
 -_Faust_. [_Collapsing_.] Not thee?
 -  Whom then?
 -  I, image of the Godhead,
 -  And no peer for thee!
 -         [_A knocking_.]
 -O Death! I know it!--'tis my Famulus--
 -Good-bye, ye dreams of bliss Elysian!
 -Shame! that so many a glowing vision
 -This dried-up sneak must scatter thus!
 -
 -      [WAGNER, _in sleeping-gown and night-cap, a lamp in his hand._
 -       FAUST _turns round with an annoyed look_.]
 -
 -_Wagner_. Excuse me! you're engaged in declamation;
 -'Twas a Greek tragedy no doubt you read?
 -I in this art should like initiation,
 -For nowadays it stands one well instead.
 -I've often heard them boast, a preacher
 -Might profit with a player for his teacher.
 -
 -_Faust_. Yes, when the preacher is a player, granted:
 -As often happens in our modern ways.
 -
 -_Wagner_. Ah! when one with such love of study's haunted,
 -And scarcely sees the world on holidays,
 -And takes a spy-glass, as it were, to read it,
 -How can one by persuasion hope to lead it?
 -
 -_Faust_. What you don't feel, you'll never catch by hunting,
 -It must gush out spontaneous from the soul,
 -And with a fresh delight enchanting
 -The hearts of all that hear control.
 -Sit there forever! Thaw your glue-pot,--
 -Blow up your ash-heap to a flame, and brew,
 -With a dull fire, in your stew-pot,
 -Of other men's leavings a ragout!
 -Children and apes will gaze delighted,
 -If their critiques can pleasure impart;
 -But never a heart will be ignited,
 -Comes not the spark from the speaker's heart.
 -
 -_Wagner_. Delivery makes the orator's success;
 -There I'm still far behindhand, I confess.
 -
 -_Faust_. Seek honest gains, without pretence!
 -Be not a cymbal-tinkling fool!
 -Sound understanding and good sense
 -Speak out with little art or rule;
 -And when you've something earnest to utter,
 -Why hunt for words in such a flutter?
 -Yes, your discourses, that are so refined'
 -In which humanity's poor shreds you frizzle,
 -Are unrefreshing as the mist and wind
 -That through the withered leaves of autumn whistle!
 -
 -_Wagner_. Ah God! well, art is long!
 -And life is short and fleeting.
 -What headaches have I felt and what heart-beating,
 -When critical desire was strong.
 -How hard it is the ways and means to master
 -By which one gains each fountain-head!
 -
 -And ere one yet has half the journey sped,
 -The poor fool dies--O sad disaster!
 -
 -_Faust_. Is parchment, then, the holy well-spring, thinkest,
 -A draught from which thy thirst forever slakes?
 -No quickening element thou drinkest,
 -Till up from thine own soul the fountain breaks.
 -
 -_Wagner_. Excuse me! in these olden pages
 -We catch the spirit of the by-gone ages,
 -We see what wisest men before our day have thought,
 -And to what glorious heights we their bequests have brought.
 -
 -_Faust_. O yes, we've reached the stars at last!
 -My friend, it is to us,--the buried past,--
 -A book with seven seals protected;
 -Your spirit of the times is, then,
 -At bottom, your own spirit, gentlemen,
 -In which the times are seen reflected.
 -And often such a mess that none can bear it;
 -At the first sight of it they run away.
 -A dust-bin and a lumber-garret,
 -At most a mock-heroic play[8]
 -With fine, pragmatic maxims teeming,
 -The mouths of puppets well-beseeming!
 -
 -_Wagner_. But then the world! the heart and mind of man!
 -To know of these who would not pay attention?
 -
 -_Faust_. To know them, yes, as weaklings can!
 -Who dares the child's true name outright to mention?
 -The few who any thing thereof have learned,
 -Who out of their heart's fulness needs must gabble,
 -And show their thoughts and feelings to the rabble,
 -Have evermore been crucified and burned.
 -I pray you, friend, 'tis wearing into night,
 -Let us adjourn here, for the present.
 -
 -_Wagner_. I had been glad to stay till morning light,
 -This learned talk with you has been so pleasant,
 -But the first day of Easter comes to-morrow.
 -And then an hour or two I'll borrow.
 -With zeal have I applied myself to learning,
 -True, I know much, yet to know all am burning.
 -                                          [_Exit_.]
 -
 -_Faust_. [_Alone_.] See how in _his_ head only, hope still lingers,
 -Who evermore to empty rubbish clings,
 -With greedy hand grubs after precious things,
 -And leaps for joy when some poor worm he fingers!
 -  That such a human voice should dare intrude,
 -Where all was full of ghostly tones and features!
 -Yet ah! this once, my gratitude
 -Is due to thee, most wretched of earth's creatures.
 -Thou snatchedst me from the despairing state
 -In which my senses, well nigh crazed, were sunken.
 -The apparition was so giant-great,
 -That to a very dwarf my soul had shrunken.
 -  I, godlike, who in fancy saw but now
 -Eternal truth's fair glass in wondrous nearness,
 -Rejoiced in heavenly radiance and clearness,
 -Leaving the earthly man below;
 -I, more than cherub, whose free force
 -Dreamed, through the veins of nature penetrating,
 -To taste the life of Gods, like them creating,
 -Behold me this presumption expiating!
 -A word of thunder sweeps me from my course.
 -  Myself with thee no longer dare I measure;
 -Had I the power to draw thee down at pleasure;
 -To hold thee here I still had not the force.
 -Oh, in that blest, ecstatic hour,
 -I felt myself so small, so great;
 -Thou drovest me with cruel power
 -Back upon man's uncertain fate
 -What shall I do? what slum, thus lonely?
 -That impulse must I, then, obey?
 -Alas! our very deeds, and not our sufferings only,
 -How do they hem and choke life's way!
 -  To all the mind conceives of great and glorious
 -A strange and baser mixture still adheres;
 -Striving for earthly good are we victorious?
 -A dream and cheat the better part appears.
 -The feelings that could once such noble life inspire
 -Are quenched and trampled out in passion's mire.
 -  Where Fantasy, erewhile, with daring flight
 -Out to the infinite her wings expanded,
 -A little space can now suffice her quite,
 -When hope on hope time's gulf has wrecked and stranded.
 -Care builds her nest far down the heart's recesses,
 -There broods o'er dark, untold distresses,
 -Restless she sits, and scares thy joy and peace away;
 -She puts on some new mask with each new day,
 -Herself as house and home, as wife and child presenting,
 -As fire and water, bane and blade;
 -What never hits makes thee afraid,
 -And what is never lost she keeps thee still lamenting.
 -  Not like the Gods am I! Too deep that truth is thrust!
 -But like the worm, that wriggles through the dust;
 -Who, as along the dust for food he feels,
 -Is crushed and buried by the traveller's heels.
 -  Is it not dust that makes this lofty wall
 -Groan with its hundred shelves and cases;
 -The rubbish and the thousand trifles all
 -That crowd these dark, moth-peopled places?
 -Here shall my craving heart find rest?
 -Must I perchance a thousand books turn over,
 -To find that men are everywhere distrest,
 -And here and there one happy one discover?
 -Why grin'st thou down upon me, hollow skull?
 -But that thy brain, like mine, once trembling, hoping,
 -Sought the light day, yet ever sorrowful,
 -Burned for the truth in vain, in twilight groping?
 -Ye, instruments, of course, are mocking me;
 -Its wheels, cogs, bands, and barrels each one praises.
 -I waited at the door; you were the key;
 -Your ward is nicely turned, and yet no bolt it raises.
 -Unlifted in the broadest day,
 -Doth Nature's veil from prying eyes defend her,
 -And what (he chooses not before thee to display,
 -Not all thy screws and levers can force her to surrender.
 -Old trumpery! not that I e'er used thee, but
 -Because my father used thee, hang'st thou o'er me,
 -Old scroll! thou hast been stained with smoke and smut
 -Since, on this desk, the lamp first dimly gleamed before me.
 -Better have squandered, far, I now can clearly see,
 -My little all, than melt beneath it, in this Tophet!
 -That which thy fathers have bequeathed to thee,
 -Earn and become possessor of it!
 -What profits not a weary load will be;
 -What it brings forth alone can yield the moment profit.
 -  Why do I gaze as if a spell had bound me
 -Up yonder? Is that flask a magnet to the eyes?
 -What lovely light, so sudden, blooms around me?
 -As when in nightly woods we hail the full-moon-rise.
 -  I greet thee, rarest phial, precious potion!
 -As now I take thee down with deep devotion,
 -In thee I venerate man's wit and art.
 -Quintessence of all soporific flowers,
 -Extract of all the finest deadly powers,
 -Thy favor to thy master now impart!
 -I look on thee, the sight my pain appeases,
 -I handle thee, the strife of longing ceases,
 -The flood-tide of the spirit ebbs away.
 -Far out to sea I'm drawn, sweet voices listening,
 -The glassy waters at my feet are glistening,
 -To new shores beckons me a new-born day.
 -  A fiery chariot floats, on airy pinions,
 -To where I sit! Willing, it beareth me,
 -On a new path, through ether's blue dominions,
 -To untried spheres of pure activity.
 -This lofty life, this bliss elysian,
 -Worm that thou waft erewhile, deservest thou?
 -Ay, on this earthly sun, this charming vision,
 -Turn thy back resolutely now!
 -Boldly draw near and rend the gates asunder,
 -By which each cowering mortal gladly steals.
 -Now is the time to show by deeds of wonder
 -That manly greatness not to godlike glory yields;
 -Before that gloomy pit to stand, unfearing,
 -Where Fantasy self-damned in its own torment lies,
 -Still onward to that pass-way steering,
 -Around whose narrow mouth hell-flames forever rise;
 -Calmly to dare the step, serene, unshrinking,
 -Though into nothingness the hour should see thee sinking.
 -  Now, then, come down from thy old case, I bid thee,
 -Where thou, forgotten, many a year hast hid thee,
 -Into thy master's hand, pure, crystal glass!
 -The joy-feasts of the fathers thou hast brightened,
 -The hearts of gravest guests were lightened,
 -When, pledged, from hand to hand they saw thee pass.
 -Thy sides, with many a curious type bedight,
 -Which each, as with one draught he quaffed the liquor
 -Must read in rhyme from off the wondrous beaker,
 -Remind me, ah! of many a youthful night.
 -I shall not hand thee now to any neighbor,
 -Not now to show my wit upon thy carvings labor;
 -Here is a juice of quick-intoxicating might.
 -The rich brown flood adown thy sides is streaming,
 -With my own choice ingredients teeming;
 -Be this last draught, as morning now is gleaming,
 -Drained as a lofty pledge to greet the festal light!
 -                [_He puts the goblet to his lips_.
 -
 -_Ringing of bells and choral song_.
 -
 -_Chorus of Angels_. Christ hath arisen!
 -  Joy to humanity!
 -  No more shall vanity,
 -  Death and inanity
 -  Hold thee in prison!
 -
 -_Faust_. What hum of music, what a radiant tone,
 -Thrills through me, from my lips the goblet stealing!
 -Ye murmuring bells, already make ye known
 -The Easter morn's first hour, with solemn pealing?
 -Sing you, ye choirs, e'en now, the glad, consoling song,
 -That once, from angel-lips, through gloom sepulchral rung,
 -A new immortal covenant sealing?
 -
 -_Chorus of Women_. Spices we carried,
 -  Laid them upon his breast;
 -  Tenderly buried
 -  Him whom we loved the best;
 -
 -  Cleanly to bind him
 -  Took we the fondest care,
 -  Ah! and we find him
 -  Now no more there.
 -
 -_Chorus of Angels_. Christ hath ascended!
 -  Reign in benignity!
 -  Pain and indignity,
 -  Scorn and malignity,
 -  _Their_ work have ended.
 -
 -_Faust_. Why seek ye me in dust, forlorn,
 -Ye heavenly tones, with soft enchanting?
 -Go, greet pure-hearted men this holy morn!
 -Your message well I hear, but faith to me is wanting;
 -Wonder, its dearest child, of Faith is born.
 -To yonder spheres I dare no more aspire,
 -Whence the sweet tidings downward float;
 -And yet, from childhood heard, the old, familiar note
 -Calls back e'en now to life my warm desire.
 -Ah! once how sweetly fell on me the kiss
 -Of heavenly love in the still Sabbath stealing!
 -Prophetically rang the bells with solemn pealing;
 -A prayer was then the ecstasy of bliss;
 -A blessed and mysterious yearning
 -Drew me to roam through meadows, woods, and skies;
 -And, midst a thousand tear-drops burning,
 -I felt a world within me rise
 -That strain, oh, how it speaks youth's gleesome plays and feelings,
 -Joys of spring-festivals long past;
 -Remembrance holds me now, with childhood's fond appealings,
 -Back from the fatal step, the last.
 -Sound on, ye heavenly strains, that bliss restore me!
 -Tears gush, once more the spell of earth is o'er me
 -
 -_Chorus of Disciples_. Has the grave's lowly one
 -  Risen victorious?
 -  Sits he, God's Holy One,
 -  High-throned and glorious?
 -  He, in this blest new birth,
 -  Rapture creative knows;[9]
 -  Ah! on the breast of earth
 -  Taste we still nature's woes.
 -  Left here to languish
 -  Lone in a world like this,
 -  Fills us with anguish
 -  Master, thy bliss!
 -
 -_Chorus of Angels_. Christ has arisen
 -  Out of corruption's gloom.
 -  Break from your prison,
 -  Burst every tomb!
 -  Livingly owning him,
 -  Lovingly throning him,
 -  Feasting fraternally,
 -  Praying diurnally,
 -  Bearing his messages,
 -  Sharing his promises,
 -  Find ye your master near,
 -  Find ye him here![10]
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -     BEFORE THE GATE.
 -
 -     _Pedestrians of all descriptions stroll forth_.
 -
 -_Mechanics' Apprentices_. Where are you going to carouse?
 -
 -_Others_. We're all going out to the Hunter's House.
 -
 -_The First_. We're going, ourselves, out to the Mill-House, brothers.
 -
 -_An Apprentice_. The Fountain-House I rather recommend.
 -
 -_Second_. 'Tis not a pleasant road, my friend.
 -
 -_The second group_. What will you do, then?
 -
 -_A Third_. I go with the others.
 -
 -_Fourth_. Come up to Burgdorf, there you're sure to find good cheer,
 -The handsomest of girls and best of beer,
 -And rows, too, of the very first water.
 -
 -_Fifth_. You monstrous madcap, does your skin
 -Itch for the third time to try that inn?
 -I've had enough for _my_ taste in that quarter.
 -
 -_Servant-girl_. No! I'm going back again to town for one.
 -
 -_Others_. Under those poplars we are sure to meet him.
 -
 -_First Girl_. But that for me is no great fun;
 -For you are always sure to get him,
 -He never dances with any but you.
 -Great good to me your luck will do!
 -
 -_Others_. He's not alone, I heard him say,
 -The curly-head would be with him to-day.
 -
 -_Scholar_. Stars! how the buxom wenches stride there!
 -Quick, brother! we must fasten alongside there.
 -Strong beer, good smart tobacco, and the waist
 -Of a right handsome gall, well rigg'd, now that's my taste.
 -
 -_Citizen's Daughter_. Do see those fine, young fellows yonder!
 -'Tis, I declare, a great disgrace;
 -When they might have the very best, I wonder,
 -After these galls they needs must race!
 -
 -_Second scholar_ [_to the first_].
 -Stop! not so fast! there come two more behind,
 -My eyes! but ain't they dressed up neatly?
 -One is my neighbor, or I'm blind;
 -I love the girl, she looks so sweetly.
 -Alone all quietly they go,
 -You'll find they'll take us, by and bye, in tow.
 -
 -_First_. No, brother! I don't like these starched up ways.
 -Make haste! before the game slips through our fingers.
 -The hand that swings the broom o' Saturdays
 -On Sundays round thy neck most sweetly lingers.
 -
 -_Citizen_. No, I don't like at all this new-made burgomaster!
 -His insolence grows daily ever faster.
 -No good from him the town will get!
 -Will things grow better with him? Never!
 -We're under more constraint than ever,
 -And pay more tax than ever yet.
 -
 -_Beggar_. [_Sings_.] Good gentlemen, and you, fair ladies,
 -    With such red cheeks and handsome dress,
 -    Think what my melancholy trade is,
 -    And see and pity my distress!
 -    Help the poor harper, sisters, brothers!
 -    Who loves to give, alone is gay.
 -    This day, a holiday to others,
 -    Make it for me a harvest day.
 -
 -_Another citizen_.
 -Sundays and holidays, I like, of all things, a good prattle
 -Of war and fighting, and the whole array,
 -When back in Turkey, far away,
 -The peoples give each other battle.
 -One stands before the window, drinks his glass,
 -And sees the ships with flags glide slowly down the river;
 -Comes home at night, when out of sight they pass,
 -And sings with joy, "Oh, peace forever!"
 -
 -_Third citizen_. So I say, neighbor! let them have their way,
 -Crack skulls and in their crazy riot
 -Turn all things upside down they may,
 -But leave us here in peace and quiet.
 -
 -_Old Woman_ [_to the citizen's daughter_].
 -Heyday, brave prinking this! the fine young blood!
 -Who is not smitten that has met you?--
 -But not so proud! All very good!
 -And what you want I'll promise soon to get you.
 -
 -_Citizen's Daughter_. Come, Agatha! I dread in public sight
 -To prattle with such hags; don't stay, O, Luddy!
 -'Tis true she showed me, on St. Andrew's night,
 -My future sweetheart in the body.
 -
 -_The other_. She showed me mine, too, in a glass,
 -Right soldierlike, with daring comrades round him.
 -I look all round, I study all that pass,
 -But to this hour I have not found him.
 -
 -_Soldiers_.  Castles with lowering
 -           Bulwarks and towers,
 -           Maidens with towering
 -           Passions and powers,
 -           Both shall be ours!
 -           Daring the venture,
 -           Glorious the pay!
 -
 -           When the brass trumpet
 -           Summons us loudly,
 -           Joy-ward or death-ward,
 -           On we march proudly.
 -           That is a storming!
 -
 -           Life in its splendor!
 -           Castles and maidens
 -           Both must surrender.
 -           Daring the venture,
 -           Glorious the pay.
 -           There go the soldiers
 -           Marching away!
 -
 -
 -    FAUST _and_ WAGNER.
 -
 -_Faust_. Spring's warm look has unfettered the fountains,
 -Brooks go tinkling with silvery feet;
 -Hope's bright blossoms the valley greet;
 -Weakly and sickly up the rough mountains
 -Pale old Winter has made his retreat.
 -Thence he launches, in sheer despite,
 -Sleet and hail in impotent showers,
 -O'er the green lawn as he takes his flight;
 -But the sun will suffer no white,
 -Everywhere waking the formative powers,
 -Living colors he yearns to spread;
 -Yet, as he finds it too early for flowers,
 -Gayly dressed people he takes instead.
 -Look from this height whereon we find us
 -Back to the town we have left behind us,
 -Where from the dark and narrow door
 -Forth a motley multitude pour.
 -They sun themselves gladly and all are gay,
 -They celebrate Christ's resurrection to-day.
 -For have not they themselves arisen?
 -From smoky huts and hovels and stables,
 -From labor's bonds and traffic's prison,
 -From the confinement of roofs and gables,
 -From many a cramping street and alley,
 -From churches full of the old world's night,
 -All have come out to the day's broad light.
 -See, only see! how the masses sally
 -Streaming and swarming through gardens and fields
 -How the broad stream that bathes the valley
 -Is everywhere cut with pleasure boats' keels,
 -And that last skiff, so heavily laden,
 -Almost to sinking, puts off in the stream;
 -Ribbons and jewels of youngster and maiden
 -From the far paths of the mountain gleam.
 -How it hums o'er the fields and clangs from the steeple!
 -This is the real heaven of the people,
 -Both great and little are merry and gay,
 -I am a man, too, I can be, to-day.
 -
 -_Wagner_. With you, Sir Doctor, to go out walking
 -Is at all times honor and gain enough;
 -But to trust myself here alone would be shocking,
 -For I am a foe to all that is rough.
 -Fiddling and bowling and screams and laughter
 -To me are the hatefullest noises on earth;
 -They yell as if Satan himself were after,
 -And call it music and call it mirth.
 -
 -    [_Peasants (under the linden). Dance and song._]
 -
 -The shepherd prinked him for the dance,
 -With jacket gay and spangle's glance,
 -And all his finest quiddle.
 -And round the linden lass and lad
 -They wheeled and whirled and danced like mad.
 -Huzza! huzza!
 -Huzza! Ha, ha, ha!
 -And tweedle-dee went the fiddle.
 -
 -And in he bounded through the whirl,
 -And with his elbow punched a girl,
 -Heigh diddle, diddle!
 -The buxom wench she turned round quick,
 -"Now that I call a scurvy trick!"
 -Huzza! huzza!
 -Huzza! ha, ha, ha!
 -Tweedle-dee, tweedle-dee went the fiddle.
 -
 -And petticoats and coat-tails flew
 -As up and down they went, and through,
 -Across and down the middle.
 -They all grew red, they all grew warm,
 -And rested, panting, arm in arm,
 -Huzza! huzza!
 -Ta-ra-la!
 -Tweedle-dee went the fiddle!
 -
 -"And don't be so familiar there!
 -How many a one, with speeches fair,
 -His trusting maid will diddle!"
 -But still he flattered her aside--
 -And from the linden sounded wide:
 -Huzza! huzza!
 -Huzza! huzza! ha! ha! ha!
 -And tweedle-dee the fiddle.
 -
 -_Old Peasant._ Sir Doctor, this is kind of you,
 -That with us here you deign to talk,
 -And through the crowd of folk to-day
 -A man so highly larned, walk.
 -So take the fairest pitcher here,
 -Which we with freshest drink have filled,
 -I pledge it to you, praying aloud
 -That, while your thirst thereby is stilled,
 -So many days as the drops it contains
 -May fill out the life that to you remains.
 -
 -_Faust._ I take the quickening draught and call
 -For heaven's best blessing on one and all.
 -
 -            [_The people form a circle round him._]
 -
 -_Old Peasant._ Your presence with us, this glad day,
 -We take it very kind, indeed!
 -In truth we've found you long ere this
 -In evil days a friend in need!
 -Full many a one stands living here,
 -Whom, at death's door already laid,
 -Your father snatched from fever's rage,
 -When, by his skill, the plague he stayed.
 -You, a young man, we daily saw
 -Go with him to the pest-house then,
 -And many a corpse was carried forth,
 -But you came out alive again.
 -With a charmed life you passed before us,
 -Helped by the Helper watching o'er us.
 -
 -_All._ The well-tried man, and may he live,
 -Long years a helping hand to give!
 -
 -_Faust._ Bow down to Him on high who sends
 -His heavenly help and helping friends!
 -                                [_He goes on with_ WAGNER.]
 -
 -_Wagner._ What feelings, O great man, thy heart must swell
 -Thus to receive a people's veneration!
 -O worthy all congratulation,
 -Whose gifts to such advantage tell.
 -The father to his son shows thee with exultation,
 -All run and crowd and ask, the circle closer draws,
 -The fiddle stops, the dancers pause,
 -Thou goest--the lines fall back for thee.
 -They fling their gay-decked caps on high;
 -A little more and they would bow the knee
 -As if the blessed Host came by.
 -
 -_Faust._ A few steps further on, until we reach that stone;
 -There will we rest us from our wandering.
 -How oft in prayer and penance there alone,
 -Fasting, I sate, on holy mysteries pondering.
 -There, rich in hope, in faith still firm,
 -I've wept, sighed, wrung my hands and striven
 -This plague's removal to extort (poor worm!)
 -From the almighty Lord of Heaven.
 -The crowd's applause has now a scornful tone;
 -O couldst thou hear my conscience tell its story,
 -How little either sire or son
 -Has done to merit such a glory!
 -My father was a worthy man, confused
 -And darkened with his narrow lucubrations,
 -Who with a whimsical, though well-meant patience,
 -On Nature's holy circles mused.
 -Shut up in his black laboratory,
 -Experimenting without end,
 -'Midst his adepts, till he grew hoary,
 -He sought the opposing powers to blend.
 -Thus, a red lion,[11] a bold suitor, married
 -The silver lily, in the lukewarm bath,
 -And, from one bride-bed to another harried,
 -The two were seen to fly before the flaming wrath.
 -If then, with colors gay and splendid,
 -The glass the youthful queen revealed,
 -Here was the physic, death the patients' sufferings ended,
 -And no one asked, who then was healed?
 -Thus, with electuaries so satanic,
 -Worse than the plague with all its panic,
 -We rioted through hill and vale;
 -Myself, with my own hands, the drug to thousands giving,
 -They passed away, and I am living
 -To hear men's thanks the murderers hail!
 -
 -_Wagner._ Forbear! far other name that service merits!
 -Can a brave man do more or less
 -Than with nice conscientiousness
 -To exercise the calling he inherits?
 -If thou, as youth, thy father honorest,
 -To learn from him thou wilt desire;
 -If thou, as man, men with new light hast blest,
 -Then may thy son to loftier heights aspire.
 -
 -_Faust._ O blest! who hopes to find repose,
 -Up from this mighty sea of error diving!
 -Man cannot use what he already knows,
 -To use the unknown ever striving.
 -But let not such dark thoughts a shadow throw
 -O'er the bright joy this hour inspires!
 -See how the setting sun, with ruddy glow,
 -The green-embosomed hamlet fires!
 -He sinks and fades, the day is lived and gone,
 -He hastens forth new scenes of life to waken.
 -O for a wing to lift and bear me on,
 -And on, to where his last rays beckon!
 -Then should I see the world's calm breast
 -In everlasting sunset glowing,
 -The summits all on fire, each valley steeped in rest,
 -The silver brook to golden rivers flowing.
 -No savage mountain climbing to the skies
 -Should stay the godlike course with wild abysses;
 -And now the sea, with sheltering, warm recesses
 -Spreads out before the astonished eyes.
 -At last it seems as if the God were sinking;
 -But a new impulse fires the mind,
 -Onward I speed, his endless glory drinking,
 -The day before me and the night behind,
 -The heavens above my head and under me the ocean.
 -A lovely dream,--meanwhile he's gone from sight.
 -Ah! sure, no earthly wing, in swiftest flight,
 -May with the spirit's wings hold equal motion.
 -Yet has each soul an inborn feeling
 -Impelling it to mount and soar away,
 -When, lost in heaven's blue depths, the lark is pealing
 -High overhead her airy lay;
 -When o'er the mountain pine's black shadow,
 -With outspread wing the eagle sweeps,
 -And, steering on o'er lake and meadow,
 -The crane his homeward journey keeps.
 -
 -_Wagner._ I've had myself full many a wayward hour,
 -But never yet felt such a passion's power.
 -One soon grows tired of field and wood and brook,
 -I envy not the fowl of heaven his pinions.
 -Far nobler joy to soar through thought's dominions
 -From page to page, from book to book!
 -Ah! winter nights, so dear to mind and soul!
 -Warm, blissful life through all the limbs is thrilling,
 -And when thy hands unfold a genuine ancient scroll,
 -It seems as if all heaven the room were filling.
 -
 -_Faust_. One passion only has thy heart possessed;
 -The other, friend, O, learn it never!
 -Two souls, alas! are lodged in my wild breast,
 -Which evermore opposing ways endeavor,
 -The one lives only on the joys of time,
 -Still to the world with clamp-like organs clinging;
 -The other leaves this earthly dust and slime,
 -To fields of sainted sires up-springing.
 -O, are there spirits in the air,
 -That empire hold 'twixt earth's and heaven's dominions,
 -Down from your realm of golden haze repair,
 -Waft me to new, rich life, upon your rosy pinions!
 -Ay! were a magic mantle only mine,
 -To soar o'er earth's wide wildernesses,
 -I would not sell it for the costliest dresses,
 -Not for a royal robe the gift resign.
 -
 -_Wagner_. O, call them not, the well known powers of air,
 -That swarm through all the middle kingdom, weaving
 -Their fairy webs, with many a fatal snare
 -The feeble race of men deceiving.
 -First, the sharp spirit-tooth, from out the North,
 -And arrowy tongues and fangs come thickly flying;
 -Then from the East they greedily dart forth,
 -Sucking thy lungs, thy life-juice drying;
 -If from the South they come with fever thirst,
 -Upon thy head noon's fiery splendors heaping;
 -The Westwind brings a swarm, refreshing first,
 -Then all thy world with thee in stupor steeping.
 -They listen gladly, aye on mischief bent,
 -Gladly draw near, each weak point to espy,
 -They make believe that they from heaven are sent,
 -Whispering like angels, while they lie.
 -But let us go! The earth looks gray, my friend,
 -The air grows cool, the mists ascend!
 -At night we learn our homes to prize.--
 -Why dost thou stop and stare with all thy eyes?
 -What can so chain thy sight there, in the gloaming?
 -
 -_Faust_. Seest thou that black dog through stalks and stubble roaming?
 -
 -_Wagner_. I saw him some time since, he seemed not strange to me.
 -
 -_Faust_. Look sharply! What dost take the beast to be?
 -
 -_Wagner_. For some poor poodle who has lost his master,
 -And, dog-like, scents him o'er the ground.
 -
 -_Faust_. Markst thou how, ever nearer, ever faster,
 -Towards us his spiral track wheels round and round?
 -And if my senses suffer no confusion,
 -Behind him trails a fiery glare.
 -
 -_Wagner_. 'Tis probably an optical illusion;
 -I still see only a black poodle there.
 -
 -_Faust_. He seems to me as he were tracing slyly
 -His magic rings our feet at last to snare.
 -
 -_Wagner_. To me he seems to dart around our steps so shyly,
 -As if he said: is one of them my master there?
 -
 -_Faust_. The circle narrows, he is near!
 -
 -_Wagner_. Thou seest! a dog we have, no spectre, here!
 -He growls and stops, crawls on his belly, too,
 -And wags his tail,--as all dogs do.
 -
 -_Faust_. Come here, sir! come, our comrade be!
 -
 -_Wagner_. He has a poodle's drollery.
 -Stand still, and he, too, waits to see;
 -Speak to him, and he jumps on thee;
 -Lose something, drop thy cane or sling it
 -Into the stream, he'll run and bring it.
 -
 -_Faust_. I think you're right; I trace no spirit here,
 -'Tis all the fruit of training, that is clear.
 -
 -_Wagner_. A well-trained dog is a great treasure,
 -Wise men in such will oft take pleasure.
 -And he deserves your favor and a collar,
 -He, of the students the accomplished scholar.
 -
 -          [_They go in through the town gate._]
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -      STUDY-CHAMBER.
 -
 -      _Enter_ FAUST _with the_ POODLE.
 -
 -
 -I leave behind me field and meadow
 -Veiled in the dusk of holy night,
 -Whose ominous and awful shadow
 -Awakes the better soul to light.
 -To sleep are lulled the wild desires,
 -The hand of passion lies at rest;
 -The love of man the bosom fires,
 -The love of God stirs up the breast.
 -
 -Be quiet, poodle! what worrisome fiend hath possest thee,
 -Nosing and snuffling so round the door?
 -Go behind the stove there and rest thee,
 -There's my best pillow--what wouldst thou more?
 -As, out on the mountain-paths, frisking and leaping,
 -Thou, to amuse us, hast done thy best,
 -So now in return lie still in my keeping,
 -A quiet, contented, and welcome guest.
 -
 -When, in our narrow chamber, nightly,
 -The friendly lamp begins to burn,
 -Then in the bosom thought beams brightly,
 -Homeward the heart will then return.
 -Reason once more bids passion ponder,
 -Hope blooms again and smiles on man;
 -Back to life's rills he yearns to wander,
 -Ah! to the source where life began.
 -
 -Stop growling, poodle! In the music Elysian
 -That laps my soul at this holy hour,
 -These bestial noises have jarring power.
 -We know that men will treat with derision
 -Whatever they cannot understand,
 -At goodness and truth and beauty's vision
 -Will shut their eyes and murmur and howl at it;
 -And must the dog, too, snarl and growl at it?
 -
 -But ah, with the best will, I feel already,
 -No peace will well up in me, clear and steady.
 -But why must hope so soon deceive us,
 -And the dried-up stream in fever leave us?
 -For in this I have had a full probation.
 -And yet for this want a supply is provided,
 -To a higher than earth the soul is guided,
 -We are ready and yearn for revelation:
 -And where are its light and warmth so blent
 -As here in the New Testament?
 -I feel, this moment, a mighty yearning
 -To expound for once the ground text of all,
 -The venerable original
 -Into my own loved German honestly turning.
 -        [_He opens the volume, and applies himself to the task_.]
 -"In the beginning was the _Word_." I read.
 -But here I stick! Who helps me to proceed?
 -The _Word_--so high I cannot--dare not, rate it,
 -I must, then, otherwise translate it,
 -If by the spirit I am rightly taught.
 -It reads: "In the beginning was the _thought_."
 -But study well this first line's lesson,
 -Nor let thy pen to error overhasten!
 -Is it the _thought_ does all from time's first hour?
 -"In the beginning," read then, "was the _power_."
 -Yet even while I write it down, my finger
 -Is checked, a voice forbids me there to linger.
 -The spirit helps! At once I dare to read
 -And write: "In the beginning was the _deed_."
 -
 -If I with thee must share my chamber,
 -Poodle, now, remember,
 -No more howling,
 -No more growling!
 -I had as lief a bull should bellow,
 -As have for a chum such a noisy fellow.
 -Stop that yell, now,
 -One of us must quit this cell now!
 -'Tis hard to retract hospitality,
 -But the door is open, thy way is free.
 -But what ails the creature?
 -Is this in the course of nature?
 -Is it real? or one of Fancy's shows?
 -
 -How long and broad my poodle grows!
 -He rises from the ground;
 -That is no longer the form of a hound!
 -Heaven avert the curse from us!
 -He looks like a hippopotamus,
 -With his fiery eyes and the terrible white
 -Of his grinning teeth! oh what a fright
 -Have I brought with me into the house! Ah now,
 -No mystery art thou!
 -Methinks for such half hellish brood
 -The key of Solomon were good.
 -
 -_Spirits_ [_in the passage_]. Softly! a fellow is caught there!
 -  Keep back, all of you, follow him not there!
 -  Like the fox in the trap,
 -  Mourns the old hell-lynx his mishap.
 -  But give ye good heed!
 -  This way hover, that way hover,
 -  Over and over,
 -  And he shall right soon be freed.
 -  Help can you give him,
 -  O do not leave him!
 -  Many good turns he's done us,
 -  Many a fortune won us.
 -
 -_Faust_. First, to encounter the creature
 -By the spell of the Four, says the teacher:
 -    Salamander shall glisten,[12]
 -    Undina lapse lightly,
 -    Sylph vanish brightly,
 -    Kobold quick listen.
 -
 -He to whom Nature
 -Shows not, as teacher,
 -Every force
 -And secret source,
 -Over the spirits
 -No power inherits.
 -
 -    Vanish in glowing
 -    Flame, Salamander!
 -    Inward, spirally flowing,
 -    Gurgle, Undine!
 -    Gleam in meteoric splendor,
 -    Airy Queen!
 -    Thy homely help render,
 -    Incubus! Incubus!
 -    Forth and end the charm for us!
 -
 -No kingdom of Nature
 -Resides in the creature.
 -He lies there grinning--'tis clear, my charm
 -Has done the monster no mite of harm.
 -I'll try, for thy curing,
 -Stronger adjuring.
 -
 -    Art thou a jail-bird,
 -    A runaway hell-bird?
 -    This sign,[13] then--adore it!
 -    They tremble before it
 -    All through the dark dwelling.
 -
 -His hair is bristling--his body swelling.
 -
 -    Reprobate creature!
 -    Canst read his nature?
 -    The Uncreated,
 -    Ineffably Holy,
 -    With Deity mated,
 -    Sin's victim lowly?
 -
 -Driven behind the stove by my spells,
 -Like an elephant he swells;
 -He fills the whole room, so huge he's grown,
 -He waxes shadowy faster and faster.
 -Rise not up to the ceiling--down!
 -Lay thyself at the feet of thy master!
 -Thou seest, there's reason to dread my ire.
 -I'll scorch thee with the holy fire!
 -Wait not for the sight
 -Of the thrice-glowing light!
 -Wait not to feel the might
 -Of the potentest spell in all my treasure!
 -
 -
 -        MEPHISTOPHELES.
 -    [_As the mist sinks, steps forth from behind the stove,
 -    dressed as a travelling scholasticus_.]
 -Why all this noise? What is your worship's pleasure?
 -
 -_Faust_. This was the poodle's essence then!
 -A travelling clark? Ha! ha! The casus is too funny.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I bow to the most learned among men!
 -'Faith you did sweat me without ceremony.
 -
 -_Faust_. What is thy name?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. The question seems too small
 -For one who holds the _word_ so very cheaply,
 -Who, far removed from shadows all,
 -For substances alone seeks deeply.
 -
 -_Faust_. With gentlemen like him in my presence,
 -The name is apt to express the essence,
 -Especially if, when you inquire,
 -You find it God of flies,[14] Destroyer, Slanderer, Liar.
 -Well now, who art thou then?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. A portion of that power,
 -Which wills the bad and works the good at every hour.
 -
 -_Faust_. Beneath thy riddle-word what meaning lies?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I am the spirit that denies!
 -And justly so; for all that time creates,
 -He does well who annihilates!
 -Better, it ne'er had had beginning;
 -And so, then, all that you call sinning,
 -Destruction,--all you pronounce ill-meant,--
 -Is my original element.
 -
 -_Faust_. Thou call'st thyself a part, yet lookst complete to me.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I speak the modest truth to thee.
 -A world of folly in one little soul,
 -_Man_ loves to think himself a whole;
 -Part of the part am I, which once was all, the Gloom
 -That brought forth Light itself from out her mighty womb,
 -The upstart proud, that now with mother Night
 -Disputes her ancient rank and space and right,
 -Yet never shall prevail, since, do whate'er he will,
 -He cleaves, a slave, to bodies still;
 -From bodies flows, makes bodies fair to sight;
 -A body in his course can check him,
 -His doom, I therefore hope, will soon o'ertake him,
 -With bodies merged in nothingness and night.
 -
 -_Faust_. Ah, now I see thy high vocation!
 -In gross thou canst not harm creation,
 -And so in small hast now begun.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. And, truth to tell, e'en here, not much have done.
 -That which at nothing the gauntlet has hurled,
 -This, what's its name? this clumsy world,
 -So far as I have undertaken,
 -I have to own, remains unshaken
 -By wave, storm, earthquake, fiery brand.
 -Calm, after all, remain both sea and land.
 -And the damn'd living fluff, of man and beast the brood,
 -It laughs to scorn my utmost power.
 -I've buried myriads by the hour,
 -And still there circulates each hour a new, fresh blood.
 -It were enough to drive one to distraction!
 -Earth, water, air, in constant action,
 -Through moist and dry, through warm and cold,
 -Going forth in endless germination!
 -Had I not claimed of fire a reservation,
 -Not one thing I alone should hold.
 -
 -_Faust_. Thus, with the ever-working power
 -Of good dost thou in strife persist,
 -And in vain malice, to this hour,
 -Clenchest thy cold and devilish fist!
 -Go try some other occupation,
 -Singular son of Chaos, thou!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. We'll give the thing consideration,
 -When next we meet again! But now
 -Might I for once, with leave retire?
 -
 -_Faust_. Why thou shouldst ask I do not see.
 -Now that I know thee, when desire
 -Shall prompt thee, freely visit me.
 -Window and door give free admission.
 -At least there's left the chimney flue.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Let me confess there's one small prohibition
 -
 -Lies on thy threshold, 'gainst my walking through,
 -The wizard-foot--[15]
 -
 -_Faust_.  Does that delay thee?
 -The Pentagram disturbs thee? Now,
 -Come tell me, son of hell, I pray thee,
 -If that spell-binds thee, then how enteredst thou?
 -_Thou_ shouldst proceed more circumspectly!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Mark well! the figure is not drawn correctly;
 -One of the angles, 'tis the outer one,
 -Is somewhat open, dost perceive it?
 -
 -_Faust_. That was a lucky hit, believe it!
 -And I have caught thee then? Well done!
 -'Twas wholly chance--I'm quite astounded!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_.  The _poodle_ took no heed,
 -as through the door he bounded;
 -The case looks differently now;
 -The _devil_ can leave the house no-how.
 -
 -_Faust_. The window offers free emission.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Devils and ghosts are bound by this condition:
 -
 -The way they entered in, they must come out. Allow
 -In the first clause we're free, yet not so in the second.
 -
 -_Faust_. In hell itself, then, laws are reckoned?
 -Now that I like; so then, one may, in fact,
 -Conclude a binding compact with you gentry?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Whatever promise on our books finds entry,
 -We strictly carry into act.
 -But hereby hangs a grave condition,
 -Of this we'll talk when next we meet;
 -But for the present I entreat
 -Most urgently your kind dismission.
 -
 -_Faust_. Do stay but just one moment longer, then,
 -Tell me good news and I'll release thee.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Let me go now! I'll soon come back again,
 -Then may'st thou ask whate'er shall please thee.
 -
 -_Faust_. I laid no snare for thee, old chap!
 -Thou shouldst have watched and saved thy bacon.
 -Who has the devil in his trap
 -Must hold him fast, next time he'll not so soon be taken.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Well, if it please thee, I'm content to stay
 -For company, on one condition,
 -That I, for thy amusement, may
 -To exercise my arts have free permission.
 -
 -_Faust_. I gladly grant it, if they be
 -Not disagreeable to me.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Thy senses, friend, in this one hour
 -Shall grasp the world with clearer power
 -Than in a year's monotony.
 -The songs the tender spirits sing thee,
 -The lovely images they bring thee
 -Are not an idle magic play.
 -Thou shalt enjoy the daintiest savor,
 -Then feast thy taste on richest flavor,
 -Then thy charmed heart shall melt away.
 -Come, all are here, and all have been
 -Well trained and practised, now begin!
 -
 -_Spirits_. Vanish, ye gloomy
 -    Vaulted abysses!
 -    Tenderer, clearer,
 -    Friendlier, nearer,
 -    Ether, look through!
 -    O that the darkling
 -    Cloud-piles were riven!
 -    Starlight is sparkling,
 -    Purer is heaven,
 -    Holier sunshine
 -    Softens the blue.
 -    Graces, adorning
 -    Sons of the morning--
 -    Shadowy wavings--
 -    Float along over;
 -    Yearnings and cravings
 -    After them hover.
 -    Garments ethereal,
 -    Tresses aerial,
 -    Float o'er the flowers,
 -    Float o'er the bowers,
 -    Where, with deep feeling,
 -    Thoughtful and tender,
 -    Lovers, embracing,
 -    Life-vows are sealing.
 -    Bowers on bowers!
 -    Graceful and slender
 -    Vines interlacing!
 -    Purple and blushing,
 -    Under the crushing
 -    Wine-presses gushing,
 -    Grape-blood, o'erflowing,
 -    Down over gleaming
 -    Precious stones streaming,
 -    Leaves the bright glowing
 -    Tops of the mountains,
 -    Leaves the red fountains,
 -    Widening and rushing,
 -    Till it encloses
 -    Green hills all flushing,
 -    Laden with roses.
 -    Happy ones, swarming,
 -    Ply their swift pinions,
 -    Glide through the charming
 -    Airy dominions,
 -    Sunward still fleering,
 -    Onward, where peering
 -    Far o'er the ocean,
 -    Islets are dancing
 -    With an entrancing,
 -    Magical motion;
 -    Hear them, in chorus,
 -    Singing high o'er us;
 -    Over the meadows
 -    Flit the bright shadows;
 -    Glad eyes are glancing,
 -    Tiny feet dancing.
 -    Up the high ridges
 -    Some of them clamber,
 -    Others are skimming
 -    Sky-lakes of amber,
 -    Others are swimming
 -    Over the ocean;--
 -    All are in motion,
 -    Life-ward all yearning,
 -    Longingly turning
 -    To the far-burning
 -    Star-light of bliss.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. He sleeps! Ye airy, tender youths, your numbers
 -Have sung him into sweetest slumbers!
 -You put me greatly in your debt by this.
 -Thou art not yet the man that shall hold fast the devil!
 -Still cheat his senses with your magic revel,
 -Drown him in dreams of endless youth;
 -But this charm-mountain on the sill to level,
 -I need, O rat, thy pointed tooth!
 -Nor need I conjure long, they're near me,
 -E'en now comes scampering one, who presently will hear me.
 -
 -The sovereign lord of rats and mice,
 -Of flies and frogs and bugs and lice,
 -Commands thee to come forth this hour,
 -And gnaw this threshold with great power,
 -As he with oil the same shall smear--
 -Ha! with a skip e'en now thou'rt here!
 -But brisk to work! The point by which I'm cowered,
 -Is on the ledge, the farthest forward.
 -Yet one more bite, the deed is done.--
 -Now, Faust, until we meet again, dream on!
 -
 -_Faust_. [_Waking_.] Again has witchcraft triumphed o'er me?
 -Was it a ghostly show, so soon withdrawn?
 -I dream, the devil stands himself before me--wake, to find a poodle gone!
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -    STUDY-CHAMBER.
 -
 -    FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.
 -
 -
 -_Faust_. A knock? Walk in! Who comes again to tease me?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. 'Tis I.
 -
 -_Faust_. Come in!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Must say it thrice, to please me.
 -
 -_Faust_. Come in then!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. That I like to hear.
 -We shall, I hope, bear with each other;
 -For to dispel thy crotchets, brother,
 -As a young lord, I now appear,
 -In scarlet dress, trimmed with gold lacing,
 -A stiff silk cloak with stylish facing,
 -A tall cock's feather in my hat,
 -A long, sharp rapier to defend me,
 -And I advise thee, short and flat,
 -In the same costume to attend me;
 -If thou wouldst, unembarrassed, see
 -What sort of thing this life may be.
 -
 -_Faust_. In every dress I well may feel the sore
 -Of this low earth-life's melancholy.
 -I am too old to live for folly,
 -Too young, to wish for nothing more.
 -Am I content with all creation?
 -Renounce! renounce! Renunciation--
 -Such is the everlasting song
 -That in the ears of all men rings,
 -Which every hour, our whole life long,
 -With brazen accents hoarsely sings.
 -With terror I behold each morning's light,
 -With bitter tears my eyes are filling,
 -To see the day that shall not in its flight
 -Fulfil for me one wish, not one, but killing
 -Every presentiment of zest
 -With wayward skepticism, chases
 -The fair creations from my breast
 -With all life's thousand cold grimaces.
 -And when at night I stretch me on my bed
 -And darkness spreads its shadow o'er me;
 -No rest comes then anigh my weary head,
 -Wild dreams and spectres dance before me.
 -The God who dwells within my soul
 -Can heave its depths at any hour;
 -Who holds o'er all my faculties control
 -Has o'er the outer world no power;
 -Existence lies a load upon my breast,
 -Life is a curse and death a long'd-for rest.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. And yet death never proves a wholly welcome guest.
 -
 -_Faust_. O blest! for whom, when victory's joy fire blazes,
 -Death round his brow the bloody laurel windeth,
 -Whom, weary with the dance's mazes,
 -He on a maiden's bosom findeth.
 -O that, beneath the exalted spirit's power,
 -I had expired, in rapture sinking!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. And yet I knew one, in a midnight hour,
 -Who a brown liquid shrank from drinking.
 -
 -_Faust_. Eaves-dropping seems a favorite game with thee.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Omniscient am I not; yet much is known to me.
 -
 -_Faust_. Since that sweet tone, with fond appealing,
 -Drew me from witchcraft's horrid maze,
 -And woke the lingering childlike feeling
 -With harmonies of happier days;
 -My curse on all the mock-creations
 -That weave their spell around the soul,
 -And bind it with their incantations
 -And orgies to this wretched hole!
 -Accursed be the high opinion
 -Hugged by the self-exalting mind!
 -Accursed all the dream-dominion
 -That makes the dazzled senses blind!
 -Curs'd be each vision that befools us,
 -Of fame, outlasting earthly life!
 -Curs'd all that, as possession, rules us,
 -As house and barn, as child and wife!
 -Accurs'd be mammon, when with treasure
 -He fires our hearts for deeds of might,
 -When, for a dream of idle pleasure,
 -He makes our pillow smooth and light!
 -Curs'd be the grape-vine's balsam-juices!
 -On love's high grace my curses fall!
 -On faith! On hope that man seduces,
 -On patience last, not least, of all!
 -
 -_Choir of spirits_. [_Invisible_.] Woe! Woe!
 -    Thou hast ground it to dust,
 -    The beautiful world,
 -    With mighty fist;
 -    To ruins 'tis hurled;
 -    A demi-god's blow hath done it!
 -    A moment we look upon it,
 -    Then carry (sad duty!)
 -    The fragments over into nothingness,
 -    With tears unavailing
 -    Bewailing
 -    All the departed beauty.
 -    Lordlier
 -    Than all sons of men,
 -    Proudlier
 -    Build it again,
 -    Build it up in thy breast anew!
 -    A fresh career pursue,
 -    Before thee
 -    A clearer view,
 -    And, from the Empyréan,
 -    A new-born Paean
 -    Shall greet thee, too!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Be pleased to admire
 -    My juvenile choir!
 -    Hear how they counsel in manly measure
 -    Action and pleasure!
 -    Out into life,
 -    Its joy and strife,
 -    Away from this lonely hole,
 -    Where senses and soul
 -    Rot in stagnation,
 -    Calls thee their high invitation.
 -
 -Give over toying with thy sorrow
 -Which like a vulture feeds upon thy heart;
 -Thou shalt, in the worst company, to-morrow
 -Feel that with men a man thou art.
 -Yet I do not exactly intend
 -Among the canaille to plant thee.
 -I'm none of your magnates, I grant thee;
 -Yet if thou art willing, my friend,
 -Through life to jog on beside me,
 -Thy pleasure in all things shall guide me,
 -To thee will I bind me,
 -A friend thou shalt find me,
 -And, e'en to the grave,
 -Shalt make me thy servant, make me thy slave!
 -
 -_Faust_. And in return what service shall I render?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. There's ample grace--no hurry, not the least.
 -
 -_Faust_. No, no, the devil is an egotist,
 -And does not easily "for God's sake" tender
 -That which a neighbor may assist.
 -Speak plainly the conditions, come!
 -'Tis dangerous taking such a servant home.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I to thy service _here_ agree to bind me,
 -To run and never rest at call of thee;
 -When _over yonder_ thou shalt find me,
 -Then thou shalt do as much for me.
 -
 -_Faust_. I care not much what's over yonder:
 -When thou hast knocked this world asunder,
 -Come if it will the other may!
 -Up from this earth my pleasures all are streaming,
 -Down on my woes this earthly sun is beaming;
 -Let me but end this fit of dreaming,
 -Then come what will, I've nought to say.
 -I'll hear no more of barren wonder
 -If in that world they hate and love,
 -And whether in that future yonder
 -There's a Below and an Above.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles._ In such a mood thou well mayst venture.
 -Bind thyself to me, and by this indenture
 -Thou shalt enjoy with relish keen
 -Fruits of my arts that man had never seen.
 -
 -_Faust_. And what hast thou to give, poor devil?
 -Was e'er a human mind, upon its lofty level,
 -Conceived of by the like of thee?
 -Yet hast thou food that brings satiety,
 -Not satisfaction; gold that reftlessly,
 -Like quicksilver, melts down within
 -The hands; a game in which men never win;
 -A maid that, hanging on my breast,
 -Ogles a neighbor with her wanton glances;
 -Of fame the glorious godlike zest,
 -That like a short-lived meteor dances--
 -Show me the fruit that, ere it's plucked, will rot,
 -And trees from which new green is daily peeping!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Such a requirement scares me not;
 -Such treasures have I in my keeping.
 -Yet shall there also come a time, good friend,
 -When we may feast on good things at our leisure.
 -
 -_Faust_. If e'er I lie content upon a lounge of pleasure--
 -Then let there be of me an end!
 -When thou with flattery canst cajole me,
 -Till I self-satisfied shall be,
 -When thou with pleasure canst befool me,
 -Be that the last of days for me!
 -I lay the wager!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Done!
 -
 -_Faust_. And heartily!
 -Whenever to the passing hour
 -I cry: O stay! thou art so fair!
 -To chain me down I give thee power
 -To the black bottom of despair!
 -Then let my knell no longer linger,
 -Then from my service thou art free,
 -Fall from the clock the index-finger,
 -Be time all over, then, for me!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Think well, for we shall hold you to the letter.
 -
 -_Faust_. Full right to that just now I gave;
 -I spoke not as an idle braggart better.
 -Henceforward I remain a slave,
 -What care I who puts on the setter?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I shall this very day, at Doctor's-feast,[16]
 -My bounden service duly pay thee.
 -But one thing!--For insurance' sake, I pray thee,
 -Grant me a line or two, at least.
 -
 -_Faust_. Pedant! will writing gain thy faith, alone?
 -In all thy life, no man, nor man's word hast thou known?
 -Is't not enough that I the fatal word
 -That passes on my future days have spoken?
 -The world-stream raves and rushes (hast not heard?)
 -And shall a promise hold, unbroken?
 -Yet this delusion haunts the human breast,
 -Who from his soul its roots would sever?
 -Thrice happy in whose heart pure truth finds rest.
 -No sacrifice shall he repent of ever!
 -But from a formal, written, sealed attest,
 -As from a spectre, all men shrink forever.
 -The word and spirit die together,
 -Killed by the sight of wax and leather.
 -What wilt thou, evil sprite, from me?
 -Brass, marble, parchment, paper, shall it be?
 -Shall I subscribe with pencil, pen or graver?
 -Among them all thy choice is free.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. This rhetoric of thine to me
 -Hath a somewhat bombastic savor.
 -Any small scrap of paper's good.
 -Thy signature will need a single drop of blood.[17]
 -
 -_Faust_. If this will satisfy thy mood,
 -I will consent thy whim to favor.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles._ Quite a peculiar juice is blood.
 -
 -_Faust_. Fear not that I shall break this bond; O, never!
 -My promise, rightly understood,
 -Fulfils my nature's whole endeavor.
 -I've puffed myself too high, I see;
 -To _thy_ rank only I belong.
 -The Lord of Spirits scorneth me,
 -Nature, shut up, resents the wrong.
 -The thread of thought is snapt asunder,
 -All science to me is a stupid blunder.
 -Let us in sensuality's deep
 -Quench the passions within us blazing!
 -And, the veil of sorcery raising,
 -Wake each miracle from its long sleep!
 -Plunge we into the billowy dance,
 -The rush and roll of time and chance!
 -Then may pleasure and distress,
 -Disappointment and success,
 -Follow each other as fast as they will;
 -Man's restless activity flourishes still.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. No bound or goal is set to you;
 -Where'er you like to wander sipping,
 -And catch a tit-bit in your skipping,
 -Eschew all coyness, just fall to,
 -And may you find a good digestion!
 -
 -_Faust_. Now, once for all, pleasure is not the question.
 -I'm sworn to passion's whirl, the agony of bliss,
 -The lover's hate, the sweets of bitterness.
 -My heart, no more by pride of science driven,
 -Shall open wide to let each sorrow enter,
 -And all the good that to man's race is given,
 -I will enjoy it to my being's centre,
 -Through life's whole range, upward and downward sweeping,
 -Their weal and woe upon my bosom heaping,
 -Thus in my single self their selves all comprehending
 -And with them in a common shipwreck ending.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. O trust me, who since first I fell from heaven,
 -Have chewed this tough meat many a thousand year,
 -No man digests the ancient leaven,
 -No mortal, from the cradle to the bier.
 -Trust one of _us_--the _whole_ creation
 -To God alone belongs by right;
 -_He_ has in endless day his habitation,
 -_Us_ He hath made for utter night,
 -_You_ for alternate dark and light.
 -
 -_Faust_. But then I _will!_
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Now that's worth hearing!
 -But one thing haunts me, the old song,
 -That time is short and art is long.
 -You need some slight advice, I'm fearing.
 -Take to you one of the poet-feather,
 -Let the gentleman's thought, far-sweeping,
 -Bring all the noblest traits together,
 -On your one crown their honors heaping,
 -The lion's mood
 -The stag's rapidity,
 -The fiery blood of Italy,
 -The Northman's hardihood.
 -Bid him teach thee the art of combining
 -Greatness of soul with fly designing,
 -And how, with warm and youthful passion,
 -To fall in love by plan and fashion.
 -Should like, myself, to come across 'm,
 -Would name him Mr. Microcosm.
 -
 -_Faust_. What am I then? if that for which my heart
 -Yearns with invincible endeavor,
 -The crown of man, must hang unreached forever?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Thou art at last--just what thou art.
 -Pile perukes on thy head whose curls cannot be counted,
 -On yard-high buskins let thy feet be mounted,
 -Still thou art only what thou art.
 -
 -_Faust_. Yes, I have vainly, let me not deny it,
 -Of human learning ransacked all the stores,
 -And when, at last, I set me down in quiet,
 -There gushes up within no new-born force;
 -I am not by a hair's-breadth higher,
 -Am to the Infinite no nigher.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. My worthy sir, you see the matter
 -As people generally see;
 -But we must learn to take things better,
 -Before life pleasures wholly flee.
 -The deuce! thy head and all that's in it,
 -Hands, feet and ------ are thine;
 -What I enjoy with zest each minute,
 -Is surely not the less mine?
 -If I've six horses in my span,
 -Is it not mine, their every power?
 -I fly along as an undoubted man,
 -On four and twenty legs the road I scour.
 -Cheer up, then! let all thinking be,
 -And out into the world with me!
 -I tell thee, friend, a speculating churl
 -Is like a beast, some evil spirit chases
 -Along a barren heath in one perpetual whirl,
 -While round about lie fair, green pasturing places.
 -
 -_Faust_. But how shall we begin?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. We sally forth e'en now.
 -What martyrdom endurest thou!
 -What kind of life is this to be living,
 -Ennui to thyself and youngsters giving?
 -Let Neighbor Belly that way go!
 -To stay here threshing straw why car'st thou?
 -The best that thou canst think and know
 -To tell the boys not for the whole world dar'st thou.
 -E'en now I hear one in the entry.
 -
 -_Faust_. I have no heart the youth to see.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. The poor boy waits there like a sentry,
 -He shall not want a word from me.
 -Come, give me, now, thy robe and bonnet;
 -This mask will suit me charmingly.
 -           [_He puts them on_.]
 -Now for my wit--rely upon it!
 -'Twill take but fifteen minutes, I am sure.
 -Meanwhile prepare thyself to make the pleasant tour!
 -
 -           [_Exit_ FAUST.]
 -
 -_Mephistopheles [in_ FAUST'S _long gown_].
 -Only despise all human wit and lore,
 -The highest flights that thought can soar--
 -Let but the lying spirit blind thee,
 -And with his spells of witchcraft bind thee,
 -Into my snare the victim creeps.--
 -To him has destiny a spirit given,
 -That unrestrainedly still onward sweeps,
 -To scale the skies long since hath striven,
 -And all earth's pleasures overleaps.
 -He shall through life's wild scenes be driven,
 -And through its flat unmeaningness,
 -I'll make him writhe and stare and stiffen,
 -And midst all sensual excess,
 -His fevered lips, with thirst all parched and riven,
 -Insatiably shall haunt refreshment's brink;
 -And had he not, himself, his soul to Satan given,
 -Still must he to perdition sink!
 -
 -          [_Enter_ A SCHOLAR.]
 -
 -_Scholar_. I have but lately left my home,
 -And with profound submission come,
 -To hold with one some conversation
 -Whom all men name with veneration.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles._ Your courtesy greatly flatters me
 -A man like many another you see.
 -Have you made any applications elsewhere?
 -
 -_Scholar_. Let me, I pray, your teachings share!
 -With all good dispositions I come,
 -A fresh young blood and money some;
 -My mother would hardly hear of my going;
 -But I long to learn here something worth knowing.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. You've come to the very place for it, then.
 -
 -_Scholar_. Sincerely, could wish I were off again:
 -My soul already has grown quite weary
 -Of walls and halls, so dark and dreary,
 -The narrowness oppresses me.
 -One sees no green thing, not a tree.
 -On the lecture-seats, I know not what ails me,
 -Sight, hearing, thinking, every thing fails me.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. 'Tis all in use, we daily see.
 -The child takes not the mother's breast
 -In the first instance willingly,
 -But soon it feeds itself with zest.
 -So you at wisdom's breast your pleasure
 -Will daily find in growing measure.
 -
 -_Scholar_. I'll hang upon her neck, a raptured wooer,
 -But only tell me, who shall lead me to her?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Ere you go further, give your views
 -As to which faculty you choose?
 -
 -_Scholar_. To be right learn'd I've long desired,
 -And of the natural world aspired
 -To have a perfect comprehension
 -In this and in the heavenly sphere.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I see you're on the right track here;
 -But you'll have to give undivided attention.
 -
 -_Scholar_. My heart and soul in the work'll be found;
 -Only, of course, it would give me pleasure,
 -When summer holidays come round,
 -To have for amusement a little leisure.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Use well the precious time, it flips away so,
 -Yet method gains you time, if I may say so.
 -I counsel you therefore, my worthy friend,
 -The logical leisures first to attend.
 -Then is your mind well trained and cased
 -In Spanish boots,[18] all snugly laced,
 -So that henceforth it can creep ahead
 -On the road of thought with a cautious tread.
 -And not at random shoot and strike,
 -Zig-zagging Jack-o'-lanthorn-like.
 -Then will you many a day be taught
 -That what you once to do had thought
 -Like eating and drinking, extempore,
 -Requires the rule of one, two, three.
 -It is, to be sure, with the fabric of thought,
 -As with the _chef d'œuvre_ by weavers wrought,
 -Where a thousand threads one treadle plies,
 -Backward and forward the shuttles keep going,
 -Invisibly the threads keep flowing,
 -One stroke a thousand fastenings ties:
 -Comes the philosopher and cries:
 -I'll show you, it could not be otherwise:
 -The first being so, the second so,
 -The third and fourth must of course be so;
 -And were not the first and second, you see,
 -The third and fourth could never be.
 -The scholars everywhere call this clever,
 -But none have yet become weavers ever.
 -Whoever will know a live thing and expound it,
 -First kills out the spirit it had when he found it,
 -And then the parts are all in his hand,
 -Minus only the spiritual band!
 -Encheiresin naturæ's[19] the chemical name,
 -By which dunces themselves unwittingly shame.
 -
 -_Scholar_. Cannot entirely comprehend you.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Better success will shortly attend you,
 -When you learn to analyze all creation
 -And give it a proper classification.
 -
 -_Scholar_. I feel as confused by all you've said,
 -As if 'twere a mill-wheel going round in my head!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. The next thing most important to mention,
 -Metaphysics will claim your attention!
 -There see that you can clearly explain
 -What fits not into the human brain:
 -For that which will not go into the head,
 -A pompous word will stand you in stead.
 -But, this half-year, at least, observe
 -From regularity never to swerve.
 -You'll have five lectures every day;
 -Be in at the stroke of the bell I pray!
 -And well prepared in every part;
 -Study each paragraph by heart,
 -So that you scarce may need to look
 -To see that he says no more than's in the book;
 -And when he dictates, be at your post,
 -As if you wrote for the Holy Ghost!
 -
 -_Scholar_. That caution is unnecessary!
 -I know it profits one to write,
 -For what one has in black and white,
 -He to his home can safely carry.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. But choose some faculty, I pray!
 -
 -_Scholar_. I feel a strong dislike to try the legal college.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I cannot blame you much, I must acknowledge.
 -I know how this profession stands to-day.
 -Statutes and laws through all the ages
 -Like a transmitted malady you trace;
 -In every generation still it rages
 -And softly creeps from place to place.
 -Reason is nonsense, right an impudent suggestion;
 -Alas for thee, that thou a grandson art!
 -Of inborn law in which each man has part,
 -Of that, unfortunately, there's no question.
 -
 -_Scholar_. My loathing grows beneath your speech.
 -O happy he whom you shall teach!
 -To try theology I'm almost minded.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I must not let you by zeal be blinded.
 -This is a science through whose field
 -Nine out of ten in the wrong road will blunder,
 -And in it so much poison lies concealed,
 -That mould you this mistake for physic, no great wonder.
 -Here also it were best, if only one you heard
 -And swore to that one master's word.
 -Upon the whole--words only heed you!
 -These through the temple door will lead you
 -Safe to the shrine of certainty.
 -
 -_Scholar_. Yet in the word a thought must surely be.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. All right! But one must not perplex himself about it;
 -For just where one must go without it,
 -The word comes in, a friend in need, to thee.
 -With words can one dispute most featly,
 -With words build up a system neatly,
 -In words thy faith may stand unshaken,
 -From words there can be no iota taken.
 -
 -_Scholar_. Forgive my keeping you with many questions,
 -Yet must I trouble you once more,
 -Will you not give me, on the score
 -Of medicine, some brief suggestions?
 -Three years are a short time, O God!
 -And then the field is quite too broad.
 -If one had only before his nose
 -Something else as a hint to follow!--
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_ [_aside_]. I'm heartily tired of this dry prose,
 -Must play the devil again out hollow.
 -     [_Aloud_.]
 -The healing art is quickly comprehended;
 -Through great and little world you look abroad,
 -And let it wag, when all is ended,
 -As pleases God.
 -Vain is it that your science sweeps the skies,
 -Each, after all, learns only what he can;
 -Who grasps the moment as it flies
 -He is the real man.
 -Your person somewhat takes the eye,
 -Boldness you'll find an easy science,
 -And if you on yourself rely,
 -Others on you will place reliance.
 -In the women's good graces seek first to be seated;
 -Their oh's and ah's, well known of old,
 -So thousand-fold,
 -Are all from a single point to be treated;
 -Be decently modest and then with ease
 -You may get the blind side of them when you please.
 -A title, first, their confidence must waken,
 -That _your_ art many another art transcends,
 -Then may you, lucky man, on all those trifles reckon
 -For which another years of groping spends:
 -Know how to press the little pulse that dances,
 -And fearlessly, with sly and fiery glances,
 -Clasp the dear creatures round the waist
 -To see how tightly they are laced.
 -
 -_Scholar_. This promises!  One loves the How and Where to see!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Gray, worthy friend, is all your theory
 -And green the golden tree of life.
 -
 -_Scholar_. I seem,
 -I swear to you, like one who walks in dream.
 -Might I another time, without encroaching,
 -Hear you the deepest things of wisdom broaching?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. So far as I have power, you may.
 -
 -_Scholar_. I cannot tear myself away,
 -Till I to you my album have presented.
 -Grant me one line and I'm contented!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. With pleasure.
 -     [_Writes and returns it_.]
 -
 -_Scholar [reads]._ Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum.
 -     [_Shuts it reverently, and bows himself out_.]
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_.
 -Let but the brave old saw and my aunt, the serpent, guide thee,
 -And, with thy likeness to God, shall woe one day betide thee!
 -
 -_Faust [enters_]. Which way now shall we go?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Which way it pleases thee.
 -The little world and then the great we see.
 -O with what gain, as well as pleasure,
 -Wilt thou the rollicking cursus measure!
 -
 -_Faust_. I fear the easy life and free
 -With my long beard will scarce agree.
 -'Tis vain for me to think of succeeding,
 -I never could learn what is called good-breeding.
 -In the presence of others I feel so small;
 -I never can be at my ease at all.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Dear friend, vain trouble to yourself you're giving;
 -Whence once you trust yourself, you know the art of living.
 -
 -_Faust_. But how are we to start, I pray?
 -Where are thy servants, coach and horses?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. We spread the mantle, and away
 -It bears us on our airy courses.
 -But, on this bold excursion, thou
 -Must take no great portmanteau now.
 -A little oxygen, which I will soon make ready,
 -From earth uplifts us, quick and steady.
 -And if we're light, we'll soon surmount the sphere;
 -I give thee hearty joy in this thy new career.
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -      AUERBACH'S CELLAR IN LEIPSIC.[20]
 -
 -      _Carousal of Jolly Companions_.
 -
 -
 -_Frosch_.[21] Will nobody drink? Stop those grimaces!
 -I'll teach you how to be cutting your faces!
 -Laugh out! You're like wet straw to-day,
 -And blaze, at other times, like dry hay.
 -
 -_Brander_. 'Tis all your fault; no food for fun you bring,
 -Not a nonsensical nor nasty thing.
 -
 -_Frosch [dashes a glass of wine over his bead_]. There you have both!
 -
 -_Brander_. You hog twice o'er!
 -
 -_Frosch_. You wanted it, what would you more?
 -
 -_Siebel_ Out of the door with them that brawl!
 -Strike up a round; swill, shout there, one and all!
 -Wake up! Hurra!
 -
 -_Altmayer_. Woe's me, I'm lost! Bring cotton!
 -The rascal splits my ear-drum.
 -
 -_Siebel_. Only shout on!
 -When all the arches ring and yell,
 -Then does the base make felt its true ground-swell.
 -
 -_Frosch_. That's right, just throw him out, who undertakes to fret!
 -A! tara! lara da!
 -
 -_Altmayer_. A! tara! lara da!
 -
 -_Frosch_. Our whistles all are wet.
 -           [_Sings_.]
 -    The dear old holy Romish realm,
 -    What holds it still together?
 -
 -_Brander_. A sorry song! Fie! a political song!
 -A tiresome song! Thank God each morning therefor,
 -That you have not the Romish realm to care for!
 -At least I count it a great gain that He
 -Kaiser nor chancellor has made of me.
 -E'en we can't do without a head, however;
 -To choose a pope let us endeavour.
 -You know what qualification throws
 -The casting vote and the true man shows.
 -
 -_Frosch [sings_].
 -    Lady Nightingale, upward soar,
 -    Greet me my darling ten thousand times o'er.
 -
 -_Siebel_. No greetings to that girl! Who does so, I resent it!
 -
 -_Frosch_. A greeting and a kiss! And you will not prevent it!
 -         [_Sings.]_
 -    Draw the bolts! the night is clear.
 -    Draw the bolts! Love watches near.
 -    Close the bolts! the dawn is here.
 -
 -_Siebel_. Ay, sing away and praise and glorify your dear!
 -Soon I shall have my time for laughter.
 -The jade has jilted me, and will you too hereafter;
 -May Kobold, for a lover, be her luck!
 -At night may he upon the cross-way meet her;
 -Or, coming from the Blocksberg, some old buck
 -May, as he gallops by, a good-night bleat her!
 -A fellow fine of real flesh and blood
 -Is for the wench a deal too good.
 -She'll get from me but one love-token,
 -That is to have her window broken!
 -
 -_Brander [striking on the table_]. Attend! attend! To me give ear!
 -I know what's life, ye gents, confess it:
 -We've lovesick people sitting near,
 -And it is proper they should hear
 -A good-night strain as well as I can dress it.
 -Give heed! And hear a bran-new song!
 -Join in the chorus loud and strong!
 -            [_He sings_.]
 -    A rat in the cellar had built his nest,
 -    He daily grew sleeker and smoother,
 -    He lined his paunch from larder and chest,
 -    And was portly as Doctor Luther.
 -    The cook had set him poison one day;
 -    From that time forward he pined away
 -    As if he had love in his body.
 -
 -_Chorus [flouting_]. As if he had love in his body.
 -
 -_Brander_. He raced about with a terrible touse,
 -    From all the puddles went swilling,
 -    He gnawed and he scratched all over the house,
 -    His pain there was no stilling;
 -    He made full many a jump of distress,
 -    And soon the poor beast got enough, I guess,
 -    As if he had love in his body.
 -
 -_Chorus_. As if he had love in his body.
 -
 -_Brander_. With pain he ran, in open day,
 -    Right up into the kitchen;
 -    He fell on the hearth and there he lay
 -    Gasping and moaning and twitchin'.
 -    Then laughed the poisoner: "He! he! he!
 -    He's piping on the last hole," said she,
 -    "As if he had love in his body."
 -
 -_Chorus_. As if he had love in his body.
 -
 -_Siebel_. Just hear now how the ninnies giggle!
 -That's what I call a genuine art,
 -To make poor rats with poison wriggle!
 -
 -_Brander_. You take their case so much to heart?
 -
 -_Altmayer_. The bald pate and the butter-belly!
 -The sad tale makes him mild and tame;
 -He sees in the swollen rat, poor fellow!
 -His own true likeness set in a frame.
 -
 -
 -    FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Now, first of all, 'tis necessary
 -To show you people making merry,
 -That you may see how lightly life can run.
 -Each day to this small folk's a feast of fun;
 -Not over-witty, self-contented,
 -Still round and round in circle-dance they whirl,
 -As with their tails young kittens twirl.
 -If with no headache they're tormented,
 -Nor dunned by landlord for his pay,
 -They're careless, unconcerned, and gay.
 -
 -_Brander_. They're fresh from travel, one might know it,
 -Their air and manner plainly show it;
 -They came here not an hour ago.
 -
 -_Frosch_. Thou verily art right! My Leipsic well I know!
 -Paris in small it is, and cultivates its people.
 -
 -_Siebel_. What do the strangers seem to thee?
 -
 -_Frosch_. Just let me go! When wine our friendship mellows,
 -Easy as drawing a child's tooth 'twill be
 -To worm their secrets out of these two fellows.
 -They're of a noble house, I dare to swear,
 -They have a proud and discontented air.
 -
 -_Brander_. They're mountebanks, I'll bet a dollar!
 -
 -_Altmayer_. Perhaps.
 -
 -_Frosch_. I'll smoke them, mark you that!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_ [_to Faust_]. These people never smell the old rat,
 -E'en when he has them by the collar.
 -
 -_Faust_. Fair greeting to you, sirs!
 -
 -_Siebel_. The same, and thanks to boot.
 -       [_In a low tone, faking a side look at MEPHISTOPHELES_.]
 -Why has the churl one halting foot?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. With your permission, shall we make one party?
 -Instead of a good drink, which get here no one can,
 -Good company must make us hearty.
 -
 -_Altmayer_. You seem a very fastidious man.
 -
 -_Frosch_. I think you spent some time at Rippach[22] lately?
 -You supped with Mister Hans not long since, I dare say?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. We passed him on the road today!
 -Fine man! it grieved us parting with him, greatly.
 -He'd much to say to us about his cousins,
 -And sent to each, through us, his compliments by dozens.
 -      [_He bows to_ FROSCH.]
 -
 -_Altmayer_ [_softly_]. You've got it there! he takes!
 -
 -_Siebel_. The chap don't want for wit!
 -
 -_Frosch_. I'll have him next time, wait a bit!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. If I mistook not, didn't we hear
 -Some well-trained voices chorus singing?
 -'Faith, music must sound finely here.
 -From all these echoing arches ringing!
 -
 -_Frosch_. You are perhaps a connoisseur?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. O no! my powers are small, I'm but an amateur.
 -
 -_Altmayer_. Give us a song!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. As many's you desire.
 -
 -_Siebel_. But let it be a bran-new strain!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. No fear of that!  We've just come back from Spain,
 -The lovely land of wine and song and lyre.
 -          [_Sings_.]
 -    There was a king, right stately,
 -    Who had a great, big flea,--
 -
 -_Frosch_. Hear him! A flea! D'ye take there, boys? A flea!
 -I call that genteel company.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_ [_resumes_]. There was a king, right stately,
 -     Who had a great, big flea,
 -     And loved him very greatly,
 -     As if his own son were he.
 -     He called the knight of stitches;
 -     The tailor came straightway:
 -     Ho! measure the youngster for breeches,
 -     And make him a coat to-day!
 -
 -_Brander_. But don't forget to charge the knight of stitches,
 -The measure carefully to take,
 -And, as he loves his precious neck,
 -To leave no wrinkles in the breeches.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. In silk and velvet splendid
 -     The creature now was drest,
 -     To his coat were ribbons appended,
 -     A cross was on his breast.
 -     He had a great star on his collar,
 -     Was a minister, in short;
 -     And his relatives, greater and smaller,
 -     Became great people at court.
 -
 -     The lords and ladies of honor
 -     Fared worse than if they were hung,
 -     The queen, she got them upon her,
 -     And all were bitten and stung,
 -     And did not dare to attack them,
 -     Nor scratch, but let them stick.
 -     We choke them and we crack them
 -     The moment we feel one prick.
 -
 -_Chorus_ [_loud_]. We choke 'em and we crack 'em
 -The moment we feel one prick.
 -
 -_Frosch_. Bravo! Bravo! That was fine!
 -
 -_Siebel_. So shall each flea his life resign!
 -
 -_Brander_. Point your fingers and nip them fine!
 -
 -_Altmayer_. Hurra for Liberty! Hurra for Wine!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I'd pledge the goddess, too, to show how high I set her,
 -Right gladly, if your wines were just a trifle better.
 -
 -_Siebel_. Don't say that thing again, you fretter!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Did I not fear the landlord to affront;
 -I'd show these worthy guests this minute
 -What kind of stuff our stock has in it.
 -
 -_Siebel_. Just bring it on! I'll bear the brunt.
 -
 -_Frosch_. Give us a brimming glass, our praise shall then be ample,
 -But don't dole out too small a sample;
 -For if I'm to judge and criticize,
 -I need a good mouthful to make me wise.
 -
 -_Altmayer_ [_softly_]. They're from the Rhine, as near as I can make it.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Bring us a gimlet here!
 -
 -_Brander_. What shall be done with that?
 -You've not the casks before the door, I take it?
 -
 -_Altmayer_. The landlord's tool-chest there is easily got at.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_ [_takes the gimlet_] (_to Frosch_).
 -What will you have? It costs but speaking.
 -
 -_Frosch_. How do you mean?  Have you so many kinds?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Enough to suit all sorts of minds.
 -
 -_Altmayer_. Aha! old sot, your lips already licking!
 -
 -_Frosch_. Well, then! if I must choose, let Rhine-wine fill my beaker,
 -Our fatherland supplies the noblest liquor.
 -
 -      MEPHISTOPHELES
 -   [_boring a hole in the rim of the table near the place
 -    where_ FROSCH _sits_].
 -Get us a little wax right off to make the stoppers!
 -
 -_Altmayer_. Ah, these are jugglers' tricks, and whappers!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_ [_to Brander_]. And you?
 -
 -_Brander_. Champaigne's the wine for me,
 -But then right sparkling it must be!
 -
 -     [MEPHISTOPHELES _bores; meanwhile one of them has made
 -      the wax-stoppers and stopped the holes_.]
 -
 -_Brander_. Hankerings for foreign things will sometimes haunt you,
 -The good so far one often finds;
 -Your real German man can't bear the French, I grant you,
 -And yet will gladly drink their wines.
 -
 -_Siebel_ [_while Mephistopheles approaches his seat_].
 -I don't like sour, it sets my mouth awry,
 -Let mine have real sweetness in it!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_ [_bores_]. Well, you shall have Tokay this minute.
 -
 -_Altmayer_. No, sirs, just look me in the eye!
 -I see through this, 'tis what the chaps call smoking.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Come now! That would be serious joking,
 -To make so free with worthy men.
 -But quickly now! Speak out again!
 -With what description can I serve you?
 -
 -_Altmayer_. Wait not to ask; with any, then.
 -
 -      [_After all the holes are bored and stopped_.]
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_ [_with singular gestures_].
 -From the vine-stock grapes we pluck;
 -Horns grow on the buck;
 -Wine is juicy, the wooden table,
 -Like wooden vines, to give wine is able.
 -An eye for nature's depths receive!
 -Here is a miracle, only believe!
 -Now draw the plugs and drink your fill!
 -
 -       ALL
 -    [_drawing the stoppers, and catching each in his glass
 -     the wine he had desired_].
 -Sweet spring, that yields us what we will!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Only be careful not a drop to spill!
 -    [_They drink repeatedly_.]
 -
 -_All_ [_sing_]. We're happy all as cannibals,
 -     Five hundred hogs together.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Look at them now, they're happy as can be!
 -
 -_Faust_. To go would suit my inclination.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. But first give heed, their bestiality
 -Will make a glorious demonstration.
 -
 -     SIEBEL
 -     [_drinks carelessly; the wine is spilt upon the ground
 -      and turns to flame_].
 -Help! fire! Ho! Help! The flames of hell!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles [_conjuring the flame_].
 -Peace, friendly element, be still!
 -     [_To the Toper_.]
 -This time 'twas but a drop of fire from purgatory.
 -
 -_Siebel_. What does this mean? Wait there, or you'll be sorry!
 -It seems you do not know us well.
 -
 -_Frosch_. Not twice, in this way, will it do to joke us!
 -
 -_Altmayer_. I vote, we give him leave himself here _scarce_ to make.
 -
 -_Siebel_. What, sir! How dare you undertake
 -To carry on here your old hocus-pocus?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Be still, old wine-cask!
 -
 -_Siebel_. Broomstick, you!
 -Insult to injury add? Confound you!
 -
 -_Brander_. Stop there! Or blows shall rain down round you!
 -
 -      ALTMAYER
 -      [_draws a stopper out of the table; fire flies at him_].
 -I burn! I burn!
 -
 -_Siebel_. Foul sorcery! Shame!
 -Lay on! the rascal is fair game!
 -
 -      [_They draw their knives and rush at_ MEPHISTOPHELES.]
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_ [_with a serious mien_].
 -Word and shape of air!
 -Change place, new meaning wear!
 -Be here--and there!
 -
 -      [_They stand astounded and look at each other_.]
 -
 -_Altmayer_. Where am I? What a charming land!
 -
 -_Frosch_. Vine hills! My eyes! Is't true?
 -
 -_Siebel_. And grapes, too, close at hand!
 -
 -_Brander_. Beneath this green see what a stem is growing!
 -See what a bunch of grapes is glowing!
 -       [_He seizes_ SIEBEL _by the nose. The rest do the same to each
 -        other and raise their knives._]
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_ [_as above_]. Loose, Error, from their eyes the band!
 -How Satan plays his tricks, you need not now be told of.
 -       [_He vanishes with_ FAUST, _the companions start back from each
 -        other_.]
 -
 -_Siebel_. What ails me?
 -
 -_Altmayer_. How?
 -
 -_Frosch_. Was that thy nose, friend, I had hold of?
 -
 -_Brander_ [_to Siebel_]. And I have thine, too, in my hand!
 -
 -_Altmayer_. O what a shock! through all my limbs 'tis crawling!
 -Get me a chair, be quick, I'm falling!
 -
 -_Frosch_. No, say what was the real case?
 -
 -_Siebel_. O show me where the churl is hiding!
 -Alive he shall not leave the place!
 -
 -_Altmayer_. Out through the cellar-door I saw him riding--
 -Upon a cask--he went full chase.--
 -Heavy as lead my feet are growing.
 -
 -      [_Turning towards the table_.]
 -
 -My! If the wine should yet be flowing.
 -
 -_Siebel_. 'Twas all deception and moonshine.
 -
 -_Frosch_. Yet I was sure I did drink wine.
 -
 -_Brander_. But how about the bunches, brother?
 -
 -_Altmayer_. After such miracles, I'll doubt no other!
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -     WITCHES' KITCHEN.
 -
 -     [_On a low hearth stands a great kettle over the fire. In the smoke,
 -which rises from it, are seen various forms. A female monkey[28] sits by
 -the kettle and skims it, and takes care that it does not run over. The
 -male monkey with the young ones sits close by, warming himself. Walls and
 -ceiling are adorned 'with the most singular witch-household stuff_.]
 -
 -
 -     FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.
 -
 -_Faust_. Would that this vile witch-business were well over!
 -Dost promise me I shall recover
 -In this hodge-podge of craziness?
 -From an old hag do I advice require?
 -And will this filthy cooked-up mess
 -My youth by thirty years bring nigher?
 -Woe's me, if that's the best you know!
 -Already hope is from my bosom banished.
 -Has not a noble mind found long ago
 -Some balsam to restore a youth that's vanished?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. My friend, again thou speakest a wise thought!
 -I know a natural way to make thee young,--none apter!
 -But in another book it must be sought,
 -And is a quite peculiar chapter.
 -
 -_Faust_. I beg to know it.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Well! here's one that needs no pay,
 -No help of physic, nor enchanting.
 -Out to the fields without delay,
 -And take to hacking, digging, planting;
 -Run the same round from day to day,
 -A treadmill-life, contented, leading,
 -With simple fare both mind and body feeding,
 -Live with the beast as beast, nor count it robbery
 -Shouldst thou manure, thyself, the field thou reapest;
 -Follow this course and, trust to me,
 -For eighty years thy youth thou keepest!
 -
 -_Faust_. I am not used to that, I ne'er could bring me to it,
 -To wield the spade, I could not do it.
 -The narrow life befits me not at all.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. So must we on the witch, then, call.
 -
 -_Faust_. But why just that old hag? Canst thou
 -Not brew thyself the needful liquor?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. That were a pretty pastime now
 -I'd build about a thousand bridges quicker.
 -Science and art alone won't do,
 -The work will call for patience, too;
 -Costs a still spirit years of occupation:
 -Time, only, strengthens the fine fermentation.
 -To tell each thing that forms a part
 -Would sound to thee like wildest fable!
 -The devil indeed has taught the art;
 -To make it not the devil is able.
 -      [_Espying the animals_.]
 -See, what a genteel breed we here parade!
 -This is the house-boy! that's the maid!
 -      [_To the animals_.]
 -Where's the old lady gone a mousing?
 -
 -_The animals_. Carousing;
 -Out she went
 -By the chimney-vent!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. How long does she spend in gadding and storming?
 -
 -_The animals_. While we are giving our paws a warming.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_ [_to Faust_]. How do you find the dainty creatures?
 -
 -_Faust_. Disgusting as I ever chanced to see!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. No! a discourse like this to me,
 -I own, is one of life's most pleasant features;
 -      [_To the animals_.]
 -Say, cursed dolls, that sweat, there, toiling!
 -What are you twirling with the spoon?
 -
 -_Animals_. A common beggar-soup we're boiling.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. You'll have a run of custom soon.
 -
 -         THE HE-MONKEY
 -    [_Comes along and fawns on_ MEPHISTOPHELES].
 -        O fling up the dice,
 -        Make me rich in a trice,
 -        Turn fortune's wheel over!
 -        My lot is right bad,
 -        If money I had,
 -        My wits would recover.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. The monkey'd be as merry as a cricket,
 -Would somebody give him a lottery-ticket!
 -
 -    [_Meanwhile the young monkeys have been playing with a great
 -     ball, which they roll backward and forward_.]
 -
 -_The monkey_. 'The world's the ball;
 -        See't rise and fall,
 -        Its roll you follow;
 -        Like glass it rings:
 -        Both, brittle things!
 -        Within 'tis hollow.
 -        There it shines clear,
 -        And brighter here,--
 -        I live--by 'Pollo!--
 -        Dear son, I pray,
 -        Keep hands away!
 -        _Thou_ shalt fall so!
 -        'Tis made of clay,
 -        Pots are, also.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. What means the sieve?
 -
 -_The monkey [takes it down_]. Wert thou a thief,
 -        'Twould show the thief and shame him.
 -    [_Runs to his mate and makes her look through_.]
 -        Look through the sieve!
 -        Discern'st thou the thief,
 -        And darest not name him?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles [approaching the fire_]. And what's this pot?
 -
 -_The monkeys_. The dunce! I'll be shot!
 -        He knows not the pot,
 -        He knows not the kettle!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Impertinence! Hush!
 -
 -_The monkey_. Here, take you the brush,
 -        And sit on the settle!
 -     [_He forces_ MEPHISTOPHELES _to sit down_.]
 -
 -         FAUST
 -    [_who all this time has been standing before a looking-glass,
 -     now approaching and now receding from it_].
 -
 -What do I see? What heavenly face
 -Doth, in this magic glass, enchant me!
 -O love, in mercy, now, thy swiftest pinions grant me!
 -And bear me to her field of space!
 -Ah, if I seek to approach what doth so haunt me,
 -If from this spot I dare to stir,
 -Dimly as through a mist I gaze on her!--
 -The loveliest vision of a woman!
 -Such lovely woman can there be?
 -Must I in these reposing limbs naught human.
 -But of all heavens the finest essence see?
 -Was such a thing on earth seen ever?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Why, when you see a God six days in hard work spend,
 -And then cry bravo at the end,
 -Of course you look for something clever.
 -Look now thy fill; I have for thee
 -Just such a jewel, and will lead thee to her;
 -And happy, whose good fortune it shall be,
 -To bear her home, a prospered wooer!
 -
 -[FAUST _keeps on looking into the mirror_. MEPHISTOPHELES
 -_stretching himself out on the settle and playing with the brush,
 -continues speaking_.]
 -Here sit I like a king upon his throne,
 -The sceptre in my hand,--I want the crown alone.
 -
 -          THE ANIMALS
 -   [_who up to this time have been going through all sorts of queer antics
 -    with each other, bring_ MEPHISTOPHELES _a crown with a loud cry_].
 -        O do be so good,--
 -        With sweat and with blood,
 -        To take it and lime it;
 -   [_They go about clumsily with the crown and break it into two pieces,
 -    with which they jump round_.]
 -        'Tis done now! We're free!
 -        We speak and we see,
 -        We hear and we rhyme it;
 -
 -_Faust [facing the mirror_]. Woe's me! I've almost lost my wits.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles [pointing to the animals_].
 -My head, too, I confess, is very near to spinning.
 -
 -_The animals_. And then if it hits
 -        And every thing fits,
 -        We've thoughts for our winning.
 -
 -_Faust [as before_]. Up to my heart the flame is flying!
 -Let us begone--there's danger near!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles [in the former position_].
 -Well, this, at least, there's no denying,
 -That we have undissembled poets here.
 -
 -[The kettle, which the she-monkey has hitherto left unmatched, begins to
 -run over; a great flame breaks out, which roars up the chimney. The_ WITCH
 -_comes riding down through the flame with a terrible outcry_.]
 -
 -_Witch_. Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
 -      The damned beast! The cursed sow!
 -      Neglected the kettle, scorched the Frau!
 -      The cursed crew!
 -        [_Seeing_ FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES.]
 -      And who are you?
 -      And what d'ye do?
 -      And what d'ye want?
 -      And who sneaked in?
 -      The fire-plague grim
 -      Shall light on him
 -      In every limb!
 -
 -     [_She makes a dive at the kettle with the skimmer and spatters flames
 -      at _FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES_, and the creatures. These last whimper_.]
 -
 -          MEPHISTOPHELES
 -     [_inverting the brush which he holds in his hand, and striking
 -      among the glasses and pots_].
 -
 -      In two! In two!
 -      There lies the brew!
 -      There lies the glass!
 -      This joke must pass;
 -      For time-beat, ass!
 -      To thy melody, 'twill do.
 -    [_While the_ WITCH _starts back full of wrath and horror.]
 -Skeleton! Scarcecrow! Spectre! Know'st thou me,
 -Thy lord and master? What prevents my dashing
 -Right in among thy cursed company,
 -Thyself and all thy monkey spirits smashing?
 -Has the red waistcoat thy respect no more?
 -Has the cock's-feather, too, escaped attention?
 -Hast never seen this face before?
 -My name, perchance, wouldst have me mention?
 -
 -_The witch_. Pardon the rudeness, sir, in me!
 -But sure no cloven foot I see.
 -Nor find I your two ravens either.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I'll let thee off for this once so;
 -For a long while has passed, full well I know,
 -Since the last time we met together.
 -The culture, too, which licks the world to shape,
 -The devil himself cannot escape;
 -The phantom of the North men's thoughts have left behind them,
 -Horns, tail, and claws, where now d'ye find them?
 -And for the foot, with which dispense I nowise can,
 -'Twould with good circles hurt my standing;
 -And so I've worn, some years, like many a fine young man,
 -False calves to make me more commanding.
 -
 -_The witch [dancing_]. O I shall lose my wits, I fear,
 -Do I, again, see Squire Satan here!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Woman, the name offends my ear!
 -
 -_The witch_. Why so? What has it done to you?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. It has long since to fable-books been banished;
 -But men are none the better for it; true,
 -The wicked _one_, but not the wicked _ones_, has vanished.
 -Herr Baron callst thou me, then all is right and good;
 -I am a cavalier, like others. Doubt me?
 -Doubt for a moment of my noble blood?
 -See here the family arms I bear about me!
 -     [_He makes an indecent gesture.]
 -
 -The witch [laughs immoderately_]. Ha! ha! full well I know you, sir!
 -You are the same old rogue you always were!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles [to Faust_]. I pray you, carefully attend,
 -This is the way to deal with witches, friend.
 -
 -_The witch_. Now, gentles, what shall I produce?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. A right good glassful of the well-known juice!
 -And pray you, let it be the oldest;
 -Age makes it doubly strong for use.
 -
 -_The witch_. Right gladly! Here I have a bottle,
 -From which, at times, I wet my throttle;
 -Which now, not in the slightest, stinks;
 -A glass to you I don't mind giving;
 -     [_Softly_.]
 -But if this man, without preparing, drinks,
 -He has not, well you know, another hour for living.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_.
 -'Tis a good friend of mine, whom it shall straight cheer up;
 -Thy kitchen's best to give him don't delay thee.
 -Thy ring--thy spell, now, quick, I pray thee,
 -And give him then a good full cup.
 -
 -[_The_ WITCH, _with strange gestures, draws a circle, and places singular
 -things in it; mean-while the glasses begin to ring, the kettle to sound
 -and make music. Finally, she brings a great book and places the monkeys in
 -the circle, whom she uses as a reading-desk and to hold the torches. She
 -beckons_ FAUST _to come to her_.]
 -
 -_Faust [to Mephistopheles_].
 -Hold! what will come of this? These creatures,
 -These frantic gestures and distorted features,
 -And all the crazy, juggling fluff,
 -I've known and loathed it long enough!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Pugh! that is only done to smoke us;
 -Don't be so serious, my man!
 -She must, as Doctor, play her hocus-pocus
 -To make the dose work better, that's the plan.
 -      [_He constrains_ FAUST _to step into the circle_.]
 -
 -            THE WITCH
 -      [_beginning with great emphasis to declaim out of the book_]
 -
 -      Remember then!
 -      Of One make Ten,
 -      The Two let be,
 -      Make even Three,
 -      There's wealth for thee.
 -      The Four pass o'er!
 -      Of Five and Six,
 -       (The witch so speaks,)
 -      Make Seven and Eight,
 -      The thing is straight:
 -      And Nine is One
 -      And Ten is none--
 -      This is the witch's one-time-one![24]
 -
 -_Faust_. The old hag talks like one delirious.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. There's much more still, no less mysterious,
 -I know it well, the whole book sounds just so!
 -I've lost full many a year in poring o'er it,
 -For perfect contradiction, you must know,
 -A mystery stands, and fools and wise men bow before it,
 -The art is old and new, my son.
 -Men, in all times, by craft and terror,
 -With One and Three, and Three and One,
 -For truth have propagated error.
 -They've gone on gabbling so a thousand years;
 -Who on the fools would waste a minute?
 -Man generally thinks, if words he only hears,
 -Articulated noise must have some meaning in it.
 -
 -_The witch [goes on_]. Deep wisdom's power
 -      Has, to this hour,
 -      From all the world been hidden!
 -      Whoso thinks not,
 -      To him 'tis brought,
 -      To him it comes unbidden.
 -
 -_Faust_. What nonsense is she talking here?
 -My heart is on the point of cracking.
 -In one great choir I seem to hear
 -A hundred thousand ninnies clacking.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Enough, enough, rare Sibyl, sing us
 -These runes no more, thy beverage bring us,
 -And quickly fill the goblet to the brim;
 -This drink may by my friend be safely taken:
 -Full many grades the man can reckon,
 -Many good swigs have entered him.
 -
 -     [_The_ WITCH, _with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a cup;
 -      as she puts it to_ FAUST'S _lips, there rises a light flame_.]
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Down with it!  Gulp it down! 'Twill prove
 -All that thy heart's wild wants desire.
 -Thou, with the devil, hand and glove,[25]
 -And yet wilt be afraid of fire?
 -
 -     [_The_ WITCH _breaks the circle_; FAUST _steps out_.]
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Now briskly forth! No rest for thee!
 -
 -_The witch_. Much comfort may the drink afford you!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles [to the witch_]. And any favor you may ask of me,
 -I'll gladly on Walpurgis' night accord you.
 -
 -_The witch_. Here is a song, which if you sometimes sing,
 -'Twill stir up in your heart a special fire.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles [to Faust_]. Only make haste; and even shouldst thou tire,
 -Still follow me; one must perspire,
 -That it may set his nerves all quivering.
 -I'll teach thee by and bye to prize a noble leisure,
 -And soon, too, shalt thou feel with hearty pleasure,
 -How busy Cupid stirs, and shakes his nimble wing.
 -
 -_Faust_. But first one look in yonder glass, I pray thee!
 -Such beauty I no more may find!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Nay! in the flesh thine eyes shall soon display thee
 -The model of all woman-kind.
 -      [_Softly_.]
 -Soon will, when once this drink shall heat thee,
 -In every girl a Helen meet thee!
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -      A STREET.
 -
 -      FAUST. MARGARET [_passing over_].
 -
 -_Faust_. My fair young lady, will it offend her
 -If I offer my arm and escort to lend her?
 -
 -_Margaret_. Am neither lady, nor yet am fair!
 -Can find my way home without any one's care.
 -       [_Disengages herself and exit_.]
 -
 -_Faust_. By heavens, but then the child _is_ fair!
 -I've never seen the like, I swear.
 -So modest is she and so pure,
 -And somewhat saucy, too, to be sure.
 -The light of the cheek, the lip's red bloom,
 -I shall never forget to the day of doom!
 -How me cast down her lovely eyes,
 -Deep in my soul imprinted lies;
 -How she spoke up, so curt and tart,
 -Ah, that went right to my ravished heart!
 -       [_Enter_ MEPHISTOPHELES.]
 -
 -_Faust_. Hark, thou shalt find me a way to address her!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Which one?
 -
 -_Faust_. She just went by.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. What! She?
 -She came just now from her father confessor,
 -Who from all sins pronounced her free;
 -I stole behind her noiselessly,
 -'Tis an innocent thing, who, for nothing at all,
 -Must go to the confessional;
 -O'er such as she no power I hold!
 -
 -_Faust_. But then she's over fourteen years old.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Thou speak'st exactly like Jack Rake,
 -Who every fair flower his own would make.
 -And thinks there can be no favor nor fame,
 -But one may straightway pluck the same.
 -But 'twill not always do, we see.
 -
 -_Faust_. My worthy Master Gravity,
 -Let not a word of the Law be spoken!
 -One thing be clearly understood,--
 -Unless I clasp the sweet, young blood
 -This night in my arms--then, well and good:
 -When midnight strikes, our bond is broken.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Reflect on all that lies in the way!
 -I need a fortnight, at least, to a day,
 -For finding so much as a way to reach her.
 -
 -_Faust_. Had I seven hours, to call my own,
 -Without the devil's aid, alone
 -I'd snare with ease so young a creature.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. You talk quite Frenchman-like to-day;
 -But don't be vexed beyond all measure.
 -What boots it thus to snatch at pleasure?
 -'Tis not so great, by a long way,
 -As if you first, with tender twaddle,
 -And every sort of fiddle-faddle,
 -Your little doll should mould and knead,
 -As one in French romances may read.
 -
 -_Faust_. My appetite needs no such spur.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Now, then, without a jest or slur,
 -I tell you, once for all, such speed
 -With the fair creature won't succeed.
 -Nothing will here by storm be taken;
 -We must perforce on intrigue reckon.
 -
 -_Faust_. Get me some trinket the angel has blest!
 -Lead me to her chamber of rest!
 -Get me a 'kerchief from her neck,
 -A garter get me for love's sweet sake!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. To prove to you my willingness
 -To aid and serve you in this distress;
 -You shall visit her chamber, by me attended,
 -Before the passing day is ended.
 -
 -_Faust_. And see her, too? and have her?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Nay!
 -She will to a neighbor's have gone away.
 -Meanwhile alone by yourself you may,
 -There in her atmosphere, feast at leisure
 -And revel in dreams of future pleasure.
 -
 -_Faust_. Shall we start at once?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. 'Tis too early yet.
 -
 -_Faust_. Some present to take her for me you must get.
 -
 -      [_Exit_.]
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Presents already! Brave! He's on the right foundation!
 -Full many a noble place I know,
 -And treasure buried long ago;
 -Must make a bit of exploration.
 -
 -      [_Exit_.]
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -      EVENING.
 -
 -      _A little cleanly Chamber_.
 -
 -MARGARET [_braiding and tying up her hair_.]
 -I'd give a penny just to say
 -What gentleman that was to-day!
 -How very gallant he seemed to be,
 -He's of a noble family;
 -That I could read from his brow and bearing--
 -And he would not have otherwise been so daring.
 -      [_Exit_.]
 -
 -      FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Come in, step softly, do not fear!
 -
 -_Faust [after a pause_]. Leave me alone, I prithee, here!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles [peering round_]. Not every maiden keeps so neat.
 -      [_Exit_.]
 -
 -_Faust [gazing round_]. Welcome this hallowed still retreat!
 -Where twilight weaves its magic glow.
 -Seize on my heart, love-longing, sad and sweet,
 -That on the dew of hope dost feed thy woe!
 -How breathes around the sense of stillness,
 -Of quiet, order, and content!
 -In all this poverty what fulness!
 -What blessedness within this prison pent!
 -      [_He throws himself into a leathern chair by the bed_.]
 -Take me, too! as thou hast, in years long flown,
 -In joy and grief, so many a generation!
 -Ah me! how oft, on this ancestral throne,
 -Have troops of children climbed with exultation!
 -Perhaps, when Christmas brought the Holy Guest,
 -My love has here, in grateful veneration
 -The grandsire's withered hand with child-lips prest.
 -I feel, O maiden, circling me,
 -Thy spirit of grace and fulness hover,
 -Which daily like a mother teaches thee
 -The table-cloth to spread in snowy purity,
 -And even, with crinkled sand the floor to cover.
 -Dear, godlike hand! a touch of thine
 -Makes this low house a heavenly kingdom slime!
 -And here!
 -      [_He lifts a bed-curtain_.]
 -What blissful awe my heart thrills through!
 -Here for long hours could I linger.
 -Here, Nature! in light dreams, thy airy finger
 -The inborn angel's features drew!
 -Here lay the child, when life's fresh heavings
 -Its tender bosom first made warm,
 -And here with pure, mysterious weavings
 -The spirit wrought its godlike form!
 -  And thou! What brought thee here? what power
 -Stirs in my deepest soul this hour?
 -What wouldst thou here? What makes thy heart so sore?
 -Unhappy Faust! I know thee thus no more.
 -  Breathe I a magic atmosphere?
 -The will to enjoy how strong I felt it,--
 -And in a dream of love am now all melted!
 -Are we the sport of every puff of air?
 -  And if she suddenly should enter now,
 -How would she thy presumptuous folly humble!
 -Big John-o'dreams! ah, how wouldst thou
 -Sink at her feet, collapse and crumble!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Quick, now! She comes! I'm looking at her.
 -
 -_Faust_. Away! Away! O cruel fate!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Here is a box of moderate weight;
 -I got it somewhere else--no matter!
 -Just shut it up, here, in the press,
 -I swear to you, 'twill turn her senses;
 -I meant the trifles, I confess,
 -To scale another fair one's fences.
 -True, child is child and play is play.
 -
 -_Faust_. Shall I? I know not.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Why delay?
 -You mean perhaps to keep the bauble?
 -If so, I counsel you to spare
 -From idle passion hours so fair,
 -And me, henceforth, all further trouble.
 -I hope you are not avaricious!
 -I rub my hands, I scratch my head--
 -       [_He places the casket in the press and locks it up again_.]
 - (Quick! Time we sped!)--
 -That the dear creature may be led
 -And moulded by your will and wishes;
 -And you stand here as glum,
 -As one at the door of the auditorium,
 -As if before your eyes you saw
 -In bodily shape, with breathless awe,
 -Metaphysics and physics, grim and gray!
 -Away!
 -        [_Exit_.]
 -
 -_Margaret [with a lamp_]. It seems so close, so sultry here.
 -        [_She opens the window_.]
 -Yet it isn't so very warm out there,
 -I feel--I know not how--oh dear!
 -I wish my mother 'ld come home, I declare!
 -I feel a shudder all over me crawl--
 -I'm a silly, timid thing, that's all!
 -        [_She begins to sing, while undressing_.]
 -    There was a king in Thulè,
 -    To whom, when near her grave,
 -    The mistress he loved so truly
 -    A golden goblet gave.
 -
 -    He cherished it as a lover,
 -    He drained it, every bout;
 -    His eyes with tears ran over,
 -    As oft as he drank thereout.
 -
 -    And when he found himself dying,
 -    His towns and cities he told;
 -    Naught else to his heir denying
 -    Save only the goblet of gold.
 -
 -    His knights he straightway gathers
 -    And in the midst sate he,
 -    In the banquet hall of the fathers
 -    In the castle over the sea.
 -
 -    There stood th' old knight of liquor,
 -    And drank the last life-glow,
 -    Then flung the holy beaker
 -    Into the flood below.
 -
 -    He saw it plunging, drinking
 -    And sinking in the roar,
 -    His eyes in death were sinking,
 -    He never drank one drop more.
 -            [_She opens the press, to put away her clothes,
 -             and discovers the casket_.]
 -
 -How in the world came this fine casket here?
 -I locked the press, I'm very clear.
 -I wonder what's inside! Dear me! it's very queer!
 -Perhaps 'twas brought here as a pawn,
 -In place of something mother lent.
 -Here is a little key hung on,
 -A single peep I shan't repent!
 -What's here? Good gracious! only see!
 -I never saw the like in my born days!
 -On some chief festival such finery
 -Might on some noble lady blaze.
 -How would this chain become my neck!
 -Whose may this splendor be, so lonely?
 -            [_She arrays herself in it, and steps before the glass_.]
 -Could I but claim the ear-rings only!
 -A different figure one would make.
 -What's beauty worth to thee, young blood!
 -May all be very well and good;
 -What then? 'Tis half for pity's sake
 -They praise your pretty features.
 -Each burns for gold,
 -All turns on gold,--
 -Alas for us! poor creatures!
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -      PROMENADE.
 -
 -
 -      FAUST [_going up and down in thought_.] MEPHISTOPHELES _to him_.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. By all that ever was jilted! By all the infernal fires!
 -I wish I knew something worse, to curse as my heart desires!
 -
 -_Faust_. What griping pain has hold of thee?
 -Such grins ne'er saw I in the worst stage-ranter!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Oh, to the devil I'd give myself instanter,
 -If I were not already he!
 -
 -_Faust_. Some pin's loose in your head, old fellow!
 -That fits you, like a madman thus to bellow!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Just think, the pretty toy we got for Peg,
 -A priest has hooked, the cursed plague I--
 -The thing came under the eye of the mother,
 -And caused her a dreadful internal pother:
 -The woman's scent is fine and strong;
 -Snuffles over her prayer-book all day long,
 -And knows, by the smell of an article, plain,
 -Whether the thing is holy or profane;
 -And as to the box she was soon aware
 -There could not be much blessing there.
 -"My child," she cried, "unrighteous gains
 -Ensnare the soul, dry up the veins.
 -We'll consecrate it to God's mother,
 -She'll give us some heavenly manna or other!"
 -Little Margaret made a wry face; "I see
 -'Tis, after all, a gift horse," said she;
 -"And sure, no godless one is he
 -Who brought it here so handsomely."
 -The mother sent for a priest (they're cunning);
 -Who scarce had found what game was running,
 -When he rolled his greedy eyes like a lizard,
 -And, "all is rightly disposed," said he,
 -"Who conquers wins, for a certainty.
 -The church has of old a famous gizzard,
 -She calls it little whole lands to devour,
 -Yet never a surfeit got to this hour;
 -The church alone, dear ladies; _sans_ question,
 -Can give unrighteous gains digestion."
 -
 -_Faust_. That is a general pratice, too,
 -Common alike with king and Jew.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Then pocketed bracelets and chains and rings
 -As if they were mushrooms or some such things,
 -With no more thanks, (the greedy-guts!)
 -Than if it had been a basket of nuts,
 -Promised them all sorts of heavenly pay--
 -And greatly edified were they.
 -
 -_Faust_. And Margery?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Sits there in distress,
 -And what to do she cannot guess,
 -The jewels her daily and nightly thought,
 -And he still more by whom they were brought.
 -
 -_Faust._ My heart is troubled for my pet.
 -Get her at once another set!
 -The first were no great things in their way.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles._ O yes, my gentleman finds all child's play!
 -
 -_Faust._ And what I wish, that mind and do!
 -Stick closely to her neighbor, too.
 -Don't be a devil soft as pap,
 -And fetch me some new jewels, old chap!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles._ Yes, gracious Sir, I will with pleasure.
 -    [_Exit_ FAUST.]
 -Such love-sick fools will puff away
 -Sun, moon, and stars, and all in the azure,
 -To please a maiden's whimsies, any day.
 -    [_Exit._]
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -      THE NEIGHBOR'S HOUSE.
 -
 -
 -      MARTHA [_alone]._
 -My dear good man--whom God forgive!
 -He has not treated me well, as I live!
 -Right off into the world he's gone
 -And left me on the straw alone.
 -I never did vex him, I say it sincerely,
 -I always loved him, God knows how dearly.
 -      [_She weeps_.]
 -Perhaps he's dead!--O cruel fate!--
 -If I only had a certificate!
 -
 -      _Enter_ MARGARET.
 -Dame Martha!
 -
 -_Martha_. What now, Margery?
 -
 -_Margaret_. I scarce can keep my knees from sinking!
 -Within my press, again, not thinking,
 -I find a box of ebony,
 -With things--can't tell how grand they are,--
 -More splendid than the first by far.
 -
 -_Martha_. You must not tell it to your mother,
 -She'd serve it as she did the other.
 -
 -_Margaret_. Ah, only look! Behold and see!
 -
 -_Martha [puts them on her_]. Fortunate thing! I envy thee!
 -
 -_Margaret._ Alas, in the street or at church I never
 -Could be seen on any account whatever.
 -
 -_Martha._ Come here as often as you've leisure,
 -And prink yourself quite privately;
 -Before the looking-glass walk up and down at pleasure,
 -Fine times for both us 'twill be;
 -Then, on occasions, say at some great feast,
 -Can show them to the world, one at a time, at least.
 -A chain, and then an ear-pearl comes to view;
 -Your mother may not see, we'll make some pretext, too.
 -
 -_Margaret._ Who could have brought both caskets in succession?
 -There's something here for just suspicion!
 -    [_A knock._ ]
 -Ah, God! If that's my mother--then!
 -
 -_Martha_ [_peeping through the blind_].
 -'Tis a strange gentleman--come in!
 -
 -    [_Enter_ MEPHISTOPHELES.]
 -Must, ladies, on your kindness reckon
 -To excuse the freedom I have taken;
 -    [_Steps back with profound respect at seeing_ MARGARET.]
 -I would for Dame Martha Schwerdtlein inquire!
 -
 -_Martha._ I'm she, what, sir, is your desire?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_ [_aside to her_]. I know your face, for now 'twill do;
 -A distinguished lady is visiting you.
 -For a call so abrupt be pardon meted,
 -This afternoon it shall be repeated.
 -
 -_Martha [aloud]._ For all the world, think, child! my sakes!
 -The gentleman you for a lady takes.
 -
 -_Margaret_. Ah, God! I am a poor young blood;
 -The gentleman is quite too good;
 -The jewels and trinkets are none of my own.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Ah, 'tis not the jewels and trinkets alone;
 -Her look is so piercing, so _distinguè_!
 -How glad I am to be suffered to stay.
 -
 -_Martha_. What bring you, sir? I long to hear--
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Would I'd a happier tale for your ear!
 -I hope you'll forgive me this one for repeating:
 -Your husband is dead and sends you a greeting.
 -
 -_Martha_. Is dead? the faithful heart! Woe! Woe!
 -My husband dead! I, too, shall go!
 -
 -_Margaret_. Ah, dearest Dame, despair not thou!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_ Then, hear the mournful story now!
 -
 -_Margaret_. Ah, keep me free from love forever,
 -I should never survive such a loss, no, never!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Joy and woe, woe and joy, must have each other.
 -
 -_Martha_. Describe his closing hours to me!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. In Padua lies our departed brother,
 -In the churchyard of St. Anthony,
 -In a cool and quiet bed lies sleeping,
 -In a sacred spot's eternal keeping.
 -
 -_Martha_. And this was all you had to bring me?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. All but one weighty, grave request!
 -"Bid her, when I am dead, three hundred masses sing me!"
 -With this I have made a clean pocket and breast.
 -
 -_Martha_. What! not a medal, pin nor stone?
 -Such as, for memory's sake, no journeyman will lack,
 -Saved in the bottom of his sack,
 -And sooner would hunger, be a pauper--
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Madam, your case is hard, I own!
 -But blame him not, he squandered ne'er a copper.
 -He too bewailed his faults with penance sore,
 -Ay, and his wretched luck bemoaned a great deal more.
 -
 -_Margaret_. Alas! that mortals so unhappy prove!
 -I surely will for him pray many a requiem duly.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. You're worthy of a spouse this moment; truly
 -You are a child a man might love.
 -
 -_Margaret_. It's not yet time for that, ah no!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. If not a husband, say, meanwhile a beau.
 -It is a choice and heavenly blessing,
 -Such a dear thing to one's bosom pressing.
 -
 -_Margaret_. With us the custom is not so.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Custom or not!  It happens, though.
 -
 -_Martha_. Tell on!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I slood beside his bed, as he lay dying,
 -Better than dung it was somewhat,--
 -Half-rotten straw; but then, he died as Christian ought,
 -And found an unpaid score, on Heaven's account-book lying.
 -"How must I hate myself," he cried, "inhuman!
 -So to forsake my business and my woman!
 -Oh! the remembrance murders me!
 -Would she might still forgive me this side heaven!"
 -
 -_Martha_ [_weeping_]. The dear good man! he has been long forgiven.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. "But God knows, I was less to blame than she."
 -
 -_Martha_. A lie! And at death's door! abominable!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. If I to judge of men half-way am able,
 -He surely fibbed while passing hence.
 -"Ways to kill time, (he said)--be sure, I did not need them;
 -First to get children--and then bread to feed them,
 -And bread, too, in the widest sense,
 -And even to eat my bit in peace could not be thought on."
 -
 -_Martha_. Has he all faithfulness, all love, so far forgotten,
 -The drudgery by day and night!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Not so, he thought of you with all his might.
 -He said: "When I from Malta went away,
 -For wife and children my warm prayers ascended;
 -And Heaven so far our cause befriended,
 -Our ship a Turkish cruiser took one day,
 -Which for the mighty Sultan bore a treasure.
 -Then valor got its well-earned pay,
 -And I too, who received but my just measure,
 -A goodly portion bore away."
 -
 -_Martha_. How? Where? And he has left it somewhere buried?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Who knows which way by the four winds 'twas carried?
 -He chanced to take a pretty damsel's eye,
 -As, a strange sailor, he through Naples jaunted;
 -All that she did for him so tenderly,
 -E'en to his blessed end the poor man haunted.
 -
 -_Martha_. The scamp! his children thus to plunder!
 -And could not all his troubles sore
 -Arrest his vile career, I wonder?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. But mark! his death wipes off the score.
 -Were I in your place now, good lady;
 -One year I'd mourn him piously
 -And look about, meanwhiles, for a new flame already.
 -
 -_Martha_. Ah, God! another such as he
 -I may not find with ease on this side heaven!
 -Few such kind fools as this dear spouse of mine.
 -Only to roving he was too much given,
 -And foreign women and foreign wine,
 -And that accursed game of dice.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Mere trifles these; you need not heed 'em,
 -If he, on his part, not o'er-nice,
 -Winked at, in you, an occasional freedom.
 -I swear, on that condition, too,
 -I would, myself, 'change rings with you!
 -
 -_Martha_. The gentleman is pleased to jest now!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles [aside_]. I see it's now high time I stirred!
 -She'd take the very devil at his word.
 -      [_To_ MARGERY.]
 -How is it with your heart, my best, now?
 -
 -_Margaret_. What means the gentleman?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles. [aside_]. Thou innocent young heart!
 -       [_Aloud_.]
 -Ladies, farewell!
 -
 -_Margaret_. Farewell!
 -
 -_Martha_. But quick, before we part!--
 -I'd like some witness, vouching truly
 -Where, how and when my love died and was buried duly.
 -I've always paid to order great attention,
 -Would of his death read some newspaper mention.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Ay, my dear lady, in the mouths of two
 -Good witnesses each word is true;
 -I've a friend, a fine fellow, who, when you desire,
 -Will render on oath what you require.
 -I'll bring him here.
 -
 -_Martha_. O pray, sir, do!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. And this young lady 'll be there too?
 -Fine boy! has travelled everywhere,
 -And all politeness to the fair.
 -
 -_Margaret_. Before him shame my face must cover.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Before no king the wide world over!
 -
 -_Martha_. Behind the house, in my garden, at leisure,
 -We'll wait this eve the gentlemen's pleasure.
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -      STREET.
 -
 -      FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.
 -
 -_Faust_. How now? What progress? Will 't come right?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Ha, bravo? So you're all on fire?
 -Full soon you'll see whom you desire.
 -In neighbor Martha's grounds we are to meet tonight.
 -That woman's one of nature's picking
 -For pandering and gipsy-tricking!
 -
 -_Faust_. So far, so good!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. But one thing we must do.
 -
 -_Faust_. Well, one good turn deserves another, true.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. We simply make a solemn deposition
 -That her lord's bones are laid in good condition
 -In holy ground at Padua, hid from view.
 -
 -_Faust_. That's wise! But then we first must make the journey thither?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles. Sancta simplicitas_! no need of such to-do;
 -Just swear, and ask not why or whether.
 -
 -_Faust_. If that's the best you have, the plan's not worth a feather.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. O holy man! now that's just you!
 -In all thy life hast never, to this hour,
 -To give false witness taken pains?
 -Have you of God, the world, and all that it contains,
 -Of man, and all that stirs within his heart and brains,
 -Not given definitions with great power,
 -Unscrupulous breast, unblushing brow?
 -And if you search the matter clearly,
 -Knew you as much thereof, to speak sincerely,
 -As of Herr Schwerdtlein's death? Confess it now!
 -
 -_Faust_. Thou always wast a sophist and a liar.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Ay, if one did not look a little nigher.
 -For will you not, in honor, to-morrow
 -Befool poor Margery to her sorrow,
 -And all the oaths of true love borrow?
 -
 -_Faust_. And from the heart, too.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Well and fair!
 -Then there'll be talk of truth unending,
 -Of love o'ermastering, all transcending--
 -Will every word be heart-born there?
 -
 -_Faust_. Enough! It will!--If, for the passion
 -That fills and thrills my being's frame,
 -I find no name, no fit expression,
 -Then, through the world, with all my senses, ranging,
 -Seek what most strongly speaks the unchanging.
 -And call this glow, within me burning,
 -Infinite--endless--endless yearning,
 -Is that a devilish lying game?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I'm right, nathless!
 -
 -_Faust_. Now, hark to me--
 -This once, I pray, and spare my lungs, old fellow--
 -Whoever _will_ be right, and has a tongue to bellow,
 -Is sure to be.
 -But come, enough of swaggering, let's be quit,
 -For thou art right, because I must submit.
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -      GARDEN.
 -
 -      MARGARET _on_ FAUST'S _arm_. MARTHA _with_ MEPHISTOPHELES.
 -          [_Promenading up and down_.]
 -
 -_Margaret_. The gentleman but makes me more confused
 -
 -With all his condescending goodness.
 -Men who have travelled wide are used
 -To bear with much from dread of rudeness;
 -I know too well, a man of so much mind
 -In my poor talk can little pleasure find.
 -
 -_Faust_. One look from thee, one word, delights me more
 -Than this world's wisdom o'er and o'er.
 -       [_Kisses her hand_.]
 -
 -_Margaret_. Don't take that trouble, sir! How could you bear to kiss it?
 -A hand so ugly, coarse, and rough!
 -How much I've had to do! must I confess it--
 -Mother is more than close enough.
 -       [_They pass on_.]
 -
 -_Martha_. And you, sir, are you always travelling so?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Alas, that business forces us to do it!
 -With what regret from many a place we go,
 -Though tenderest bonds may bind us to it!
 -
 -_Martha_. 'Twill do in youth's tumultuous maze
 -To wander round the world, a careless rover;
 -But soon will come the evil days,
 -And then, a lone dry stick, on the grave's brink to hover,
 -For that nobody ever prays.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. The distant prospect shakes my reason.
 -
 -_Martha_. Then, worthy sir, bethink yourself in season.
 -      [_They pass on_.]
 -
 -_Margaret_. Yes, out of sight and out of mind!
 -Politeness you find no hard matter;
 -But you have friends in plenty, better
 -Than I, more sensible, more refined.
 -
 -_Faust_. Dear girl, what one calls sensible on earth,
 -Is often vanity and nonsense.
 -
 -_Margaret_. How?
 -
 -_Faust_. Ah, that the pure and simple never know
 -Aught of themselves and all their holy worth!
 -That meekness, lowliness, the highest measure
 -Of gifts by nature lavished, full and free--
 -
 -_Margaret_. One little moment, only, think of me,
 -I shall to think of you have ample time and leisure.
 -
 -_Faust_. You're, may be, much alone?
 -
 -_Margaret_. Our household is but small, I own,
 -And yet needs care, if truth were known.
 -We have no maid; so I attend to cooking, sweeping,
 -Knit, sew, do every thing, in fact;
 -And mother, in all branches of housekeeping,
 -Is so exact!
 -Not that she need be tied so very closely down;
 -We might stand higher than some others, rather;
 -A nice estate was left us by my father,
 -A house and garden not far out of town.
 -Yet, after all, my life runs pretty quiet;
 -My brother is a soldier,
 -My little sister's dead;
 -With the dear child indeed a wearing life I led;
 -And yet with all its plagues again would gladly try it,
 -The child was such a pet.
 -
 -_Faust_. An angel, if like thee!
 -
 -_Margaret_. I reared her and she heartily loved me.
 -She and my father never saw each other,
 -He died before her birth, and mother
 -Was given up, so low she lay,
 -But me, by slow degrees, recovered, day by day.
 -Of course she now, long time so feeble,
 -To nurse the poor little worm was unable,
 -And so I reared it all alone,
 -With milk and water; 'twas my own.
 -Upon my bosom all day long
 -It smiled and sprawled and so grew strong.
 -
 -_Faust_. Ah! thou hast truly known joy's fairest flower.
 -
 -_Margaret_. But no less truly many a heavy hour.
 -The wee thing's cradle stood at night
 -Close to my bed; did the least thing awake her,
 -My sleep took flight;
 -'Twas now to nurse her, now in bed to take her,
 -Then, if she was not still, to rise,
 -Walk up and down the room, and dance away her cries,
 -And at the wash-tub stand, when morning streaked the skies;
 -Then came the marketing and kitchen-tending,
 -Day in, day out, work never-ending.
 -One cannot always, sir, good temper keep;
 -But then it sweetens food and sweetens sleep.
 -     [_They pass on_.]
 -
 -_Martha_. But the poor women suffer, you must own:
 -A bachelor is hard of reformation.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Madam, it rests with such as you, alone,
 -To help me mend my situation.
 -
 -_Martha_. Speak plainly, sir, has none your fancy taken?
 -Has none made out a tender flame to waken?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. The proverb says: A man's own hearth,
 -And a brave wife, all gold and pearls are worth.
 -
 -_Martha_. I mean, has ne'er your heart been smitten slightly?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I have, on every hand, been entertained politely.
 -
 -_Martha_. Have you not felt, I mean, a serious intention?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_.
 -Jesting with women, that's a thing one ne'er should mention.
 -
 -_Martha_. Ah, you misunderstand!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. It grieves me that I should!
 -But this I understand--that you are good.
 -       [_They pass on_.]
 -
 -_Faust_. So then, my little angel recognized me,
 -As I came through the garden gate?
 -
 -_Margaret_. Did not my downcast eyes show you surprised me?
 -
 -_Faust_. And thou forgav'st that liberty, of late?
 -That impudence of mine, so daring,
 -As thou wast home from church repairing?
 -
 -_Margaret_. I was confused, the like was new to me;
 -No one could say a word to my dishonor.
 -Ah, thought I, has he, haply, in thy manner
 -Seen any boldness--impropriety?
 -It seemed as if the feeling seized him,
 -That he might treat this girl just as it pleased him.
 -Let me confess! I knew not from what cause,
 -Some flight relentings here began to threaten danger;
 -I know, right angry with myself I was,
 -That I could not be angrier with the stranger.
 -
 -_Faust_. Sweet darling!
 -
 -_Margaret_. Let me once!
 -
 -  [_She plucks a china-aster and picks off the leaves one after another_.]
 -
 -_Faust_. What's that for? A bouquet?
 -
 -_Margaret_. No, just for sport.
 -
 -_Faust_. How?
 -
 -_Margaret_. Go! you'll laugh at me; away!
 -     [_She picks and murmurs to herself_.]
 -
 -_Faust_. What murmurest thou?
 -
 -_Margaret [half aloud_]. He loves me--loves me not.
 -
 -_Faust_. Sweet face! from heaven that look was caught!
 -
 -_Margaret [goes on_]. Loves me--not--loves me--not--
 -     [_picking off the last leaf with tender joy_]
 -He loves me!
 -
 -_Faust_. Yes, my child! And be this floral word
 -An oracle to thee. He loves thee!
 -Knowest thou all it mean? He loves thee!
 -     [_Clasping both her hands_.]
 -
 -_Margaret_. What thrill is this!
 -
 -_Faust_. O, shudder not! This look of mine.
 -This pressure of the hand shall tell thee
 -What cannot be expressed:
 -Give thyself up at once and feel a rapture,
 -An ecstasy never to end!
 -Never!--It's end were nothing but blank despair.
 -No, unending! unending!
 -
 -     [MARGARET _presses his hands, extricates herself, and runs away.
 -      He stands a moment in thought, then follows her_].
 -
 -_Martha [coming_]. The night falls fast.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Ay, and we must away.
 -
 -_Martha_. If it were not for one vexation,
 -I would insist upon your longer stay.
 -Nobody seems to have no occupation,
 -No care nor labor,
 -Except to play the spy upon his neighbor;
 -And one becomes town-talk, do whatsoe'er they may.
 -But where's our pair of doves?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Flown up the alley yonder.
 -Light summer-birds!
 -
 -_Martha_. He seems attached to her.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. No wonder.
 -And she to him. So goes the world, they say.
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -      A SUMMER-HOUSE.
 -
 -      MARGARET [_darts in, hides behind the door, presses the tip of
 -      her finger to her lips, and peeps through the crack_].
 -
 -_Margaret_. He comes!
 -
 -      _Enter_ FAUST.
 -
 -_Faust_. Ah rogue, how sly thou art!
 -I've caught thee!
 -      [_Kisses her_.]
 -
 -_Margaret [embracing him and returning the kiss_].
 -Dear good man! I love thee from my heart!
 -
 -      [MEPHISTOPHELES _knocks_.]
 -
 -_Faust [stamping_]. Who's there?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. A friend!
 -
 -_Faust_. A beast!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Time flies, I don't offend you?
 -
 -_Martha [entering_]. Yes, sir, 'tis growing late.
 -
 -_Faust_. May I not now attend you?
 -
 -_Margaret_. Mother would--Fare thee well!
 -
 -_Faust_. And must I leave thee then? Farewell!
 -
 -_Martha_. Adé!
 -
 -_Margaret_. Till, soon, we meet again!
 -
 -       [_Exeunt_ FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES.]
 -
 -_Margaret_. Good heavens! what such a man's one brain
 -Can in itself alone contain!
 -I blush my rudeness to confess,
 -And answer all he says with yes.
 -Am a poor, ignorant child, don't see
 -What he can possibly find in me.
 -
 -      [_Exit_.]
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -      WOODS AND CAVERN.
 -
 -_Faust_ [_alone_].  Spirit sublime, thou gav'st me, gav'st me all
 -For which I prayed. Thou didst not lift in vain
 -Thy face upon me in a flame of fire.
 -Gav'st me majestic nature for a realm,
 -The power to feel, enjoy her. Not alone
 -A freezing, formal visit didst thou grant;
 -Deep down into her breast invitedst me
 -To look, as if she were a bosom-friend.
 -The series of animated things
 -Thou bidst pass by me, teaching me to know
 -My brothers in the waters, woods, and air.
 -And when the storm-swept forest creaks and groans,
 -The giant pine-tree crashes, rending off
 -The neighboring boughs and limbs, and with deep roar
 -The thundering mountain echoes to its fall,
 -To a safe cavern then thou leadest me,
 -Showst me myself; and my own bosom's deep
 -Mysterious wonders open on my view.
 -And when before my sight the moon comes up
 -With soft effulgence; from the walls of rock,
 -From the damp thicket, slowly float around
 -The silvery shadows of a world gone by,
 -And temper meditation's sterner joy.
 -  O! nothing perfect is vouchsafed to man:
 -I feel it now! Attendant on this bliss,
 -Which brings me ever nearer to the Gods,
 -Thou gav'st me the companion, whom I now
 -No more can spare, though cold and insolent;
 -He makes me hate, despise myself, and turns
 -Thy gifts to nothing with a word--a breath.
 -He kindles up a wild-fire in my breast,
 -Of restless longing for that lovely form.
 -Thus from desire I hurry to enjoyment,
 -And in enjoyment languish for desire.
 -
 -      _Enter_ MEPHISTOPHELES.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Will not this life have tired you by and bye?
 -I wonder it so long delights you?
 -'Tis well enough for once the thing to try;
 -Then off to where a new invites you!
 -
 -_Faust_. Would thou hadst something else to do,
 -That thus to spoil my joy thou burnest.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Well! well! I'll leave thee, gladly too!--
 -Thou dar'st not tell me that in earnest!
 -'Twere no great loss, a fellow such as you,
 -So crazy, snappish, and uncivil.
 -One has, all day, his hands full, and more too;
 -To worm out from him what he'd have one do,
 -Or not do, puzzles e'en the very devil.
 -
 -_Faust_. Now, that I like! That's just the tone!
 -Wants thanks for boring me till I'm half dead!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Poor son of earth, if left alone,
 -What sort of life wouldst thou have led?
 -How oft, by methods all my own,
 -I've chased the cobweb fancies from thy head!
 -And but for me, to parts unknown
 -Thou from this earth hadst long since fled.
 -What dost thou here through cave and crevice groping?
 -Why like a hornèd owl sit moping?
 -And why from dripping stone, damp moss, and rotten wood
 -Here, like a toad, suck in thy food?
 -Delicious pastime! Ah, I see,
 -Somewhat of Doctor sticks to thee.
 -
 -_Faust_. What new life-power it gives me, canst thou guess--
 -This conversation with the wilderness?
 -Ay, couldst thou dream how sweet the employment,
 -Thou wouldst be devil enough to grudge me my enjoyment.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Ay, joy from super-earthly fountains!
 -By night and day to lie upon the mountains,
 -To clasp in ecstasy both earth and heaven,
 -Swelled to a deity by fancy's leaven,
 -Pierce, like a nervous thrill, earth's very marrow,
 -Feel the whole six days' work for thee too narrow,
 -To enjoy, I know not what, in blest elation,
 -Then with thy lavish love o'erflow the whole creation.
 -Below thy sight the mortal cast,
 -And to the glorious vision give at last--
 -     [_with a gesture_]
 -I must not say what termination!
 -
 -_Faust_. Shame on thee!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. This displeases thee; well, surely,
 -Thou hast a right to say "for shame" demurely.
 -One must not mention that to chaste ears--never,
 -Which chaste hearts cannot do without, however.
 -And, in one word, I grudge you not the pleasure
 -Of lying to yourself in moderate measure;
 -But 'twill not hold out long, I know;
 -Already thou art fast recoiling,
 -And soon, at this rate, wilt be boiling
 -With madness or despair and woe.
 -Enough of this! Thy sweetheart sits there lonely,
 -And all to her is close and drear.
 -Her thoughts are on thy image only,
 -She holds thee, past all utterance, dear.
 -At first thy passion came bounding and rushing
 -Like a brooklet o'erflowing with melted snow and rain;
 -Into her heart thou hast poured it gushing:
 -And now thy brooklet's dry again.
 -Methinks, thy woodland throne resigning,
 -'Twould better suit so great a lord
 -The poor young monkey to reward
 -For all the love with which she's pining.
 -She finds the time dismally long;
 -Stands at the window, sees the clouds on high
 -Over the old town-wall go by.
 -"Were I a little bird!"[26] so runneth her song
 -All the day, half the night long.
 -At times she'll be laughing, seldom smile,
 -At times wept-out she'll seem,
 -Then again tranquil, you'd deem,--
 -Lovesick all the while.
 -
 -_Faust_. Viper! Viper!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_ [_aside_].  Ay! and the prey grows riper!
 -
 -_Faust_. Reprobate! take thee far behind me!
 -No more that lovely woman name!
 -Bid not desire for her sweet person flame
 -Through each half-maddened sense, again to blind me!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. What then's to do? She fancies thou hast flown,
 -And more than half she's right, I own.
 -
 -_Faust_. I'm near her, and, though far away, my word,
 -I'd not forget her, lose her; never fear it!
 -I envy e'en the body of the Lord,
 -Oft as those precious lips of hers draw near it.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. No doubt; and oft my envious thought reposes
 -On the twin-pair that feed among the roses.
 -
 -_Faust_. Out, pimp!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Well done! Your jeers I find fair game for laughter.
 -The God, who made both lad and lass,
 -Unwilling for a bungling hand to pass,
 -Made opportunity right after.
 -But come! fine cause for lamentation!
 -Her chamber is your destination,
 -And not the grave, I guess.
 -
 -_Faust_. What are the joys of heaven while her fond arms enfold me?
 -O let her kindling bosom hold me!
 -Feel I not always her distress?
 -The houseless am I not? the unbefriended?
 -The monster without aim or rest?
 -That, like a cataract, from rock to rock descended
 -To the abyss, with maddening greed possest:
 -She, on its brink, with childlike thoughts and lowly,--
 -Perched on the little Alpine field her cot,--
 -This narrow world, so still and holy
 -Ensphering, like a heaven, her lot.
 -And I, God's hatred daring,
 -Could not be content
 -The rocks all headlong bearing,
 -By me to ruins rent,--
 -Her, yea her peace, must I o'erwhelm and bury!
 -This victim, hell, to thee was necessary!
 -Help me, thou fiend, the pang soon ending!
 -What must be, let it quickly be!
 -And let her fate upon my head descending,
 -Crush, at one blow, both her and me.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Ha! how it seethes again and glows!
 -Go in and comfort her, thou dunce!
 -Where such a dolt no outlet sees or knows,
 -He thinks he's reached the end at once.
 -None but the brave deserve the fair!
 -Thou _hast_ had devil enough to make a decent show of.
 -For all the world a devil in despair
 -Is just the insipidest thing I know of.
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -     MARGERY'S ROOM.
 -
 -  MARGERY [_at the spinning-wheel alone_].
 -      My heart is heavy,
 -    My peace is o'er;
 -    I never--ah! never--
 -    Shall find it more.
 -      While him I crave,
 -    Each place is the grave,
 -    The world is all
 -    Turned into gall.
 -      My wretched brain
 -    Has lost its wits,
 -    My wretched sense
 -    Is all in bits.
 -      My heart is heavy,
 -    My peace is o'er;
 -    I never--ah! never--
 -    Shall find it more.
 -      Him only to greet, I
 -    The street look down,
 -    Him only to meet, I
 -    Roam through town.
 -      His lofty step,
 -    His noble height,
 -    His smile of sweetness,
 -    His eye of might,
 -      His words of magic,
 -    Breathing bliss,
 -    His hand's warm pressure
 -    And ah! his kiss.
 -      My heart is heavy,
 -    My peace is o'er,
 -    I never--ah! never--
 -    Shall find it more.
 -      My bosom yearns
 -    To behold him again.
 -    Ah, could I find him
 -    That best of men!
 -    I'd tell him then
 -    How I did miss him,
 -    And kiss him
 -    As much as I could,
 -    Die on his kisses
 -    I surely should!
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -      MARTHA'S GARDEN.
 -
 -      MARGARET. FAUST.
 -
 -_Margaret_. Promise me, Henry.
 -
 -_Faust_. What I can.
 -
 -_Margaret_. How is it now with thy religion, say?
 -I know thou art a dear good man,
 -But fear thy thoughts do not run much that way.
 -
 -_Faust_. Leave that, my child! Enough, thou hast my heart;
 -For those I love with life I'd freely part;
 -I would not harm a soul, nor of its faith bereave it.
 -
 -_Margaret_. That's wrong, there's one true faith--one must believe it?
 -
 -_Faust_. Must one?
 -
 -_Margaret_. Ah, could I influence thee, dearest!
 -The holy sacraments thou scarce reverest.
 -
 -_Faust_. I honor them.
 -
 -_Margaret_. But yet without desire.
 -Of mass and confession both thou'st long begun to tire.
 -Believest thou in God?
 -
 -_Faust_. My. darling, who engages
 -To say, I do believe in God?
 -The question put to priests or sages:
 -Their answer seems as if it sought
 -To mock the asker.
 -
 -_Margaret_. Then believ'st thou not?
 -
 -_Faust_. Sweet face, do not misunderstand my thought!
 -Who dares express him?
 -And who confess him,
 -Saying, I do believe?
 -A man's heart bearing,
 -What man has the daring
 -To say: I acknowledge him not?
 -The All-enfolder,
 -The All-upholder,
 -Enfolds, upholds He not
 -Thee, me, Himself?
 -Upsprings not Heaven's blue arch high o'er thee?
 -Underneath thee does not earth stand fast?
 -See'st thou not, nightly climbing,
 -Tenderly glancing eternal stars?
 -Am I not gazing eye to eye on thee?
 -Through brain and bosom
 -Throngs not all life to thee,
 -Weaving in everlasting mystery
 -Obscurely, clearly, on all sides of thee?
 -Fill with it, to its utmost stretch, thy breast,
 -And in the consciousness when thou art wholly blest,
 -Then call it what thou wilt,
 -Joy! Heart! Love! God!
 -I have no name to give it!
 -All comes at last to feeling;
 -Name is but sound and smoke,
 -Beclouding Heaven's warm glow.
 -
 -_Margaret_. That is all fine and good, I know;
 -And just as the priest has often spoke,
 -Only with somewhat different phrases.
 -
 -_Faust_. All hearts, too, in all places,
 -Wherever Heaven pours down the day's broad blessing,
 -Each in its way the truth is confessing;
 -And why not I in mine, too?
 -
 -_Margaret_. Well, all have a way that they incline to,
 -But still there is something wrong with thee;
 -Thou hast no Christianity.
 -
 -_Faust_. Dear child!
 -
 -_Margaret_. It long has troubled me
 -That thou shouldst keep such company.
 -
 -_Faust_. How so?
 -
 -_Margaret_. The man whom thou for crony hast,
 -Is one whom I with all my soul detest.
 -Nothing in all my life has ever
 -Stirred up in my heart such a deep disfavor
 -As the ugly face that man has got.
 -
 -_Faust_. Sweet plaything; fear him not!
 -
 -_Margaret_. His presence stirs my blood, I own.
 -I can love almost all men I've ever known;
 -But much as thy presence with pleasure thrills me,
 -That man with a secret horror fills me.
 -And then for a knave I've suspected him long!
 -God pardon me, if I do him wrong!
 -
 -_Faust_. To make up a world such odd sticks are needed.
 -
 -_Margaret_. Shouldn't like to live in the house where he did!
 -Whenever I see him coming in,
 -He always wears such a mocking grin.
 -Half cold, half grim;
 -One sees, that naught has interest for him;
 -'Tis writ on his brow and can't be mistaken,
 -No soul in him can love awaken.
 -I feel in thy arms so happy, so free,
 -I yield myself up so blissfully,
 -He comes, and all in me is closed and frozen now.
 -
 -_Faust_. Ah, thou mistrustful angel, thou!
 -
 -_Margaret_. This weighs on me so sore,
 -That when we meet, and he is by me,
 -I feel, as if I loved thee now no more.
 -Nor could I ever pray, if he were nigh me,
 -That eats the very heart in me;
 -Henry, it must be so with thee.
 -
 -_Faust_. 'Tis an antipathy of thine!
 -
 -_Margaret_. Farewell!
 -
 -_Faust_. Ah, can I ne'er recline
 -One little hour upon thy bosom, pressing
 -My heart to thine and all my soul confessing?
 -
 -_Margaret_. Ah, if my chamber were alone,
 -This night the bolt should give thee free admission;
 -But mother wakes at every tone,
 -And if she had the least suspicion,
 -Heavens! I should die upon the spot!
 -
 -_Faust_. Thou angel, need of that there's not.
 -Here is a flask! Three drops alone
 -Mix with her drink, and nature
 -Into a deep and pleasant sleep is thrown.
 -
 -_Margaret_. Refuse thee, what can I, poor creature?
 -I hope, of course, it will not harm her!
 -
 -_Faust_. Would I advise it then, my charmer?
 -
 -_Margaret_. Best man, when thou dost look at me,
 -I know not what, moves me to do thy will;
 -I have already done so much for thee,
 -Scarce any thing seems left me to fulfil.
 -     [_Exit_.]
 -
 -     Enter_ MEPHISTOPHELES.
 -
 -_Mephtftopheles_. The monkey! is she gone?
 -
 -_Faust_. Hast played the spy again?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I overheard it all quite fully.
 -The Doctor has been well catechized then?
 -Hope it will sit well on him truly.
 -The maidens won't rest till they know if the men
 -Believe as good old custom bids them do.
 -They think: if there he yields, he'll follow our will too.
 -
 -_Faust_. Monster, thou wilt not, canst not see,
 -How this true soul that loves so dearly,
 -Yet hugs, at every cost,
 -The faith which she
 -Counts Heaven itself, is horror-struck sincerely
 -To think of giving up her dearest man for lost.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Thou supersensual, sensual wooer,
 -A girl by the nose is leading thee.
 -
 -_Faust_. Abortion vile of fire and sewer!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. In physiognomy, too, her skill is masterly.
 -When I am near she feels she knows not how,
 -My little mask some secret meaning shows;
 -She thinks, I'm certainly a genius, now,
 -Perhaps the very devil--who knows?
 -To-night then?--
 -
 -_Faust_. Well, what's that to you?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I find my pleasure in it, too!
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -    AT THE WELL.
 -
 -    MARGERY _and_ LIZZY _with Pitchers._
 -
 -_Lizzy_. Hast heard no news of Barbara to-day?
 -
 -_Margery_. No, not a word. I've not been out much lately.
 -
 -_Lizzy_. It came to me through Sybill very straightly.
 -She's made a fool of herself at last, they say.
 -That comes of taking airs!
 -
 -_Margery_. What meanst thou?
 -
 -_Lizzy_.                     Pah!
 -She daily eats and drinks for two now.
 -
 -_Margery_.                    Ah!
 -
 -_Lizzy_. It serves the jade right for being so callow.
 -How long she's been hanging upon the fellow!
 -Such a promenading!
 -To fair and dance parading!
 -Everywhere as first she must shine,
 -He was treating her always with tarts and wine;
 -She began to think herself something fine,
 -And let her vanity so degrade her
 -That she even accepted the presents he made her.
 -There was hugging and smacking, and so it went on--
 -And lo! and behold! the flower is gone!
 -
 -_Margery_. Poor thing!
 -
 -_Lizzy_. Canst any pity for her feel!
 -When such as we spun at the wheel,
 -Our mothers kept us in-doors after dark;
 -While she stood cozy with her spark,
 -Or sate on the door-bench, or sauntered round,
 -And never an hour too long they found.
 -But now her pride may let itself down,
 -To do penance at church in the sinner's gown!
 -
 -_Margery_. He'll certainly take her for his wife.
 -
 -_Lizzy_. He'd be a fool! A spruce young blade
 -Has room enough to ply his trade.
 -Besides, he's gone.
 -
 -_Margery_. Now, that's not fair!
 -
 -_Lizzy_. If she gets him, her lot'll be hard to bear.
 -The boys will tear up her wreath, and what's more,
 -We'll strew chopped straw before her door.
 -
 -      [_Exit._]
 -
 -_Margery [going home]_. Time was when I, too, instead of bewailing,
 -Could boldly jeer at a poor girl's failing!
 -When my scorn could scarcely find expression
 -At hearing of another's transgression!
 -How black it seemed! though black as could be,
 -It never was black enough for me.
 -I blessed my soul, and felt so high,
 -And now, myself, in sin I lie!
 -Yet--all that led me to it, sure,
 -O God! it was so dear, so pure!
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -     DONJON.[27]
 -
 -     [_In a niche a devotional image of the Mater Dolorosa,
 -      before it pots of flowers._]
 -
 -MARGERY [_puts fresh flowers into the pots_].
 -    Ah, hear me,
 -    Draw kindly near me,
 -    Mother of sorrows, heal my woe!
 -
 -    Sword-pierced, and stricken
 -    With pangs that sicken,
 -    Thou seest thy son's last life-blood flow!
 -
 -    Thy look--thy sighing---
 -    To God are crying,
 -    Charged with a son's and mother's woe!
 -
 -    Sad mother!
 -    What other
 -    Knows the pangs that eat me to the bone?
 -    What within my poor heart burneth,
 -    How it trembleth, how it yearneth,
 -    Thou canst feel and thou alone!
 -
 -    Go where I will, I never
 -    Find peace or hope--forever
 -    Woe, woe and misery!
 -
 -    Alone, when all are sleeping,
 -    I'm weeping, weeping, weeping,
 -    My heart is crushed in me.
 -
 -    The pots before my window,
 -    In the early morning-hours,
 -    Alas, my tears bedewed them,
 -    As I plucked for thee these flowers,
 -
 -    When the bright sun good morrow
 -    In at my window said,
 -    Already, in my anguish,
 -    I sate there in my bed.
 -
 -    From shame and death redeem me, oh!
 -    Draw near me,
 -    And, pitying, hear me,
 -    Mother of sorrows, heal my woe!
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -    NIGHT.
 -
 -   _Street before_ MARGERY'S _Door._
 -
 -
 -   VALENTINE [_soldier,_ MARGERY'S _brother_].
 -
 -When at the mess I used to sit,
 -Where many a one will show his wit,
 -And heard my comrades one and all
 -The flower of the sex extol,
 -Drowning their praise with bumpers high,
 -Leaning upon my elbows, I
 -Would hear the braggadocios through,
 -And then, when it came my turn, too,
 -Would stroke my beard and, smiling, say,
 -A brimming bumper in my hand:
 -All very decent in their way!
 -But is there one, in all the land,
 -With my sweet Margy to compare,
 -A candle to hold to my sister fair?
 -Bravo! Kling! Klang! it echoed round!
 -One party cried: 'tis truth he speaks,
 -She is the jewel of the sex!
 -And the braggarts all in silence were bound.
 -And now!--one could pull out his hair with vexation,
 -And run up the walls for mortification!--
 -Every two-legged creature that goes in breeches
 -Can mock me with sneers and stinging speeches!
 -And I like a guilty debtor sitting,
 -For fear of each casual word am sweating!
 -And though I could smash them in my ire,
 -I dare not call a soul of them liar.
 -
 -What's that comes yonder, sneaking along?
 -There are two of them there, if I see not wrong.
 -Is't he, I'll give him a dose that'll cure him,
 -He'll not leave the spot alive, I assure him!
 -
 -
 -     FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.
 -
 -_Faust_. How from yon window of the sacristy
 -The ever-burning lamp sends up its glimmer,
 -And round the edge grows ever dimmer,
 -Till in the gloom its flickerings die!
 -So in my bosom all is nightlike.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. A starving tom-cat I feel quite like,
 -That o'er the fire ladders crawls
 -Then softly creeps, ground the walls.
 -My aim's quite virtuous ne'ertheless,
 -A bit of thievish lust, a bit of wantonness.
 -I feel it all my members haunting--
 -The glorious Walpurgis night.
 -One day--then comes the feast enchanting
 -That shall all pinings well requite.
 -
 -_Faust_. Meanwhile can that the casket be, I wonder,
 -I see behind rise glittering yonder.[28]
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Yes, and thou soon shalt have the pleasure
 -Of lifting out the precious treasure.
 -I lately 'neath the lid did squint,
 -Has piles of lion-dollars[29] in't.
 -
 -_Faust_. But not a jewel? Not a ring?
 -To deck my mistress not a trinket?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I caught a glimpse of some such thing,
 -Sort of pearl bracelet I should think it.
 -
 -_Faust_. That's well! I always like to bear
 -Some present when I visit my fair.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. You should not murmur if your fate is,
 -To have a bit of pleasure gratis.
 -Now, as the stars fill heaven with their bright throng,
 -List a fine piece, artistic purely:
 -I sing her here a moral song,
 -To make a fool of her more surely.
 -            [_Sings to the guitar_.][30]
 -    What dost thou here,
 -    Katrina dear,
 -    At daybreak drear,
 -    Before thy lover's chamber?
 -    Give o'er, give o'er!
 -    The maid his door
 -    Lets in, no more
 -    Goes out a maid--remember!
 -
 -    Take heed! take heed!
 -    Once done, the deed
 -    Ye'll rue with speed--
 -    And then--good night--poor thing--a!
 -    Though ne'er so fair
 -    His speech, beware,
 -    Until you bear
 -    His ring upon your finger.
 -
 -_Valentine_ [_comes forward_].
 -Whom lur'ft thou here? what prey dost scent?
 -Rat-catching[81] offspring of perdition!
 -To hell goes first the instrument!
 -To hell then follows the musician!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. He 's broken the guitar! to music, then, good-bye, now.
 -
 -_Valentine_. A game of cracking skulls we'll try now!
 -
 -_Mephistopbeles_ [_to Faust_]. Never you flinch, Sir Doctor! Brisk!
 -Mind every word I say---be wary!
 -Stand close by me, out with your whisk!
 -Thrust home upon the churl! I'll parry.
 -
 -_Valentine_. Then parry that!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Be sure. Why not?
 -
 -_Valentine_. And that!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. With ease!
 -
 -_Valentine_. The devil's aid he's got!
 -But what is this? My hand's already lame.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_ [_to Faust_]. Thrust home!
 -
 -_Valentine_ [_falls_]. O woe!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Now is the lubber tame!
 -But come! We must be off. I hear a clatter;
 -And cries of murder, too, that fast increase.
 -I'm an old hand to manage the police,
 -But then the penal court's another matter.
 -
 -_Martha_. Come out! Come out!
 -
 -_Margery_ [_at the window_]. Bring on a light!
 -
 -_Martha_ [_as above_]. They swear and scuffle, scream and fight.
 -
 -_People_. There's one, has got's death-blow!
 -
 -_Martha_ [_coming out_]. Where are the murderers, have they flown?
 -
 -_Margery_ [_coming out_]. Who's lying here?
 -
 -_People_. Thy mother's son.
 -
 -_Margery_. Almighty God! What woe!
 -
 -_Valentine_. I'm dying! that is quickly said,
 -And even quicklier done.
 -Women! Why howl, as if half-dead?
 -Come, hear me, every one!
 -      [_All gather round him_.]
 -My Margery, look! Young art thou still,
 -But managest thy matters ill,
 -Hast not learned out yet quite.
 -I say in confidence--think it o'er:
 -Thou art just once for all a whore;
 -Why, be one, then, outright.
 -
 -_Margery_. My brother! God! What words to me!
 -
 -_Valentine_. In this game let our Lord God be!
 -That which is done, alas! is done.
 -And every thing its course will run.
 -With one you secretly begin,
 -Presently more of them come in,
 -And when a dozen share in thee,
 -Thou art the whole town's property.
 -
 -When shame is born to this world of sorrow,
 -The birth is carefully hid from sight,
 -And the mysterious veil of night
 -To cover her head they borrow;
 -Yes, they would gladly stifle the wearer;
 -But as she grows and holds herself high,
 -She walks uncovered in day's broad eye,
 -Though she has not become a whit fairer.
 -The uglier her face to sight,
 -The more she courts the noonday light.
 -
 -Already I the time can see
 -When all good souls shall shrink from thee,
 -Thou prostitute, when thou go'st by them,
 -As if a tainted corpse were nigh them.
 -Thy heart within thy breast shall quake then,
 -When they look thee in the face.
 -Shalt wear no gold chain more on thy neck then!
 -Shalt stand no more in the holy place!
 -No pleasure in point-lace collars take then,
 -Nor for the dance thy person deck then!
 -But into some dark corner gliding,
 -'Mong beggars and cripples wilt be hiding;
 -And even should God thy sin forgive,
 -Wilt be curs'd on earth while thou shalt live!
 -
 -_Martha_. Your soul to the mercy of God surrender!
 -Will you add to your load the sin of slander?
 -
 -_Valentine_. Could I get at thy dried-up frame,
 -Vile bawd, so lost to all sense of shame!
 -Then might I hope, e'en this side Heaven,
 -Richly to find my sins forgiven.
 -
 -_Margery_. My brother! This is hell to me!
 -
 -_Valentine_. I tell thee, let these weak tears be!
 -When thy last hold of honor broke,
 -Thou gav'st my heart the heaviest stroke.
 -I'm going home now through the grave
 -To God, a soldier and a brave.
 -                [_Dies_.]
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -    CATHEDRAL.
 -
 -    _Service, Organ, and Singing._
 -
 -
 -    [MARGERY _amidst a crowd of people._ EVIL SPIRIT _behind_ MARGERY.]
 -
 -_Evil Spirit_. How different was it with thee, Margy,
 -When, innocent and artless,
 -Thou cam'st here to the altar,
 -From the well-thumbed little prayer-book,
 -Petitions lisping,
 -Half full of child's play,
 -Half full of Heaven!
 -Margy!
 -Where are thy thoughts?
 -What crime is buried
 -Deep within thy heart?
 -Prayest thou haply for thy mother, who
 -Slept over into long, long pain, on thy account?
 -Whose blood upon thy threshold lies?
 ---And stirs there not, already
 -Beneath thy heart a life
 -Tormenting itself and thee
 -With bodings of its coming hour?
 -
 -_Margery_. Woe! Woe!
 -Could I rid me of the thoughts,
 -Still through my brain backward and forward flitting,
 -Against my will!
 -
 -_Chorus_. Dies irae, dies illa
 -Solvet saeclum in favillâ.
 -
 -            [_Organ plays_.]
 -
 -_Evil Spirit_. Wrath smites thee!
 -Hark! the trumpet sounds!
 -The graves are trembling!
 -And thy heart,
 -Made o'er again
 -For fiery torments,
 -Waking from its ashes
 -Starts up!
 -
 -_Margery_. Would I were hence!
 -I feel as if the organ's peal
 -My breath were stifling,
 -The choral chant
 -My heart were melting.
 -
 -_Chorus_. Judex ergo cum sedebit,
 -Quidquid latet apparebit.
 -Nil inultum remanebit.
 -
 -_Margery_. How cramped it feels!
 -The walls and pillars
 -Imprison me!
 -And the arches
 -Crush me!--Air!
 -
 -_Evil Spirit_. What! hide thee! sin and shame
 -Will not be hidden!
 -Air? Light?
 -Woe's thee!
 -
 -_Chorus_. Quid sum miser tunc dicturus?
 -Quem patronum rogaturus?
 -Cum vix justus sit securus.
 -
 -_Evil Spirit_. They turn their faces,
 -The glorified, from thee.
 -To take thy hand, the pure ones
 -Shudder with horror.
 -Woe!
 -
 -_Chorus_. Quid sum miser tunc dicturus?
 -
 -_Margery_. Neighbor! your phial!--
 -             [_She swoons._]
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -     WALPURGIS NIGHT.[32]
 -
 -     _Harz Mountains._
 -
 -     _District of Schirke and Elend._
 -
 -
 -     FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Wouldst thou not like a broomstick, now, to ride on?
 -At this rate we are, still, a long way off;
 -I'd rather have a good tough goat, by half,
 -Than the best legs a man e'er set his pride on.
 -
 -_Faust_. So long as I've a pair of good fresh legs to stride on,
 -Enough for me this knotty staff.
 -What use of shortening the way!
 -Following the valley's labyrinthine winding,
 -Then up this rock a pathway finding,
 -From which the spring leaps down in bubbling play,
 -That is what spices such a walk, I say!
 -Spring through the birch-tree's veins is flowing,
 -The very pine is feeling it;
 -Should not its influence set our limbs a-glowing?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I do not feel it, not a bit!
 -My wintry blood runs very slowly;
 -I wish my path were filled with frost and snow.
 -The moon's imperfect disk, how melancholy
 -It rises there with red, belated glow,
 -And shines so badly, turn where'er one can turn,
 -At every step he hits a rock or tree!
 -With leave I'll beg a Jack-o'lantern!
 -I see one yonder burning merrily.
 -Heigh, there! my friend! May I thy aid desire?
 -Why waste at such a rate thy fire?
 -Come, light us up yon path, good fellow, pray!
 -
 -_Jack-o'lantern_. Out of respect, I hope I shall be able
 -To rein a nature quite unstable;
 -We usually take a zigzag way.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Heigh! heigh! He thinks man's crooked course to travel.
 -Go straight ahead, or, by the devil,
 -I'll blow your flickering life out with a puff.
 -
 -_Jack-o'lantern_. You're master of the house, that's plain enough,
 -So I'll comply with your desire.
 -But see! The mountain's magic-mad to-night,
 -And if your guide's to be a Jack-o'lantern's light,
 -Strict rectitude you'll scarce require.
 -
 -FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, JACK-O'LANTERN, _in alternate song_.
 -
 -    Spheres of magic, dream, and vision,
 -    Now, it seems, are opening o'er us.
 -    For thy credit, use precision!
 -    Let the way be plain before us
 -    Through the lengthening desert regions.
 -
 -    See how trees on trees, in legions,
 -    Hurrying by us, change their places,
 -    And the bowing crags make faces,
 -    And the rocks, long noses showing,
 -    Hear them snoring, hear them blowing![33]
 -
 -    Down through stones, through mosses flowing,
 -    See the brook and brooklet springing.
 -    Hear I rustling? hear I singing?
 -    Love-plaints, sweet and melancholy,
 -    Voices of those days so holy?
 -    All our loving, longing, yearning?
 -    Echo, like a strain returning
 -    From the olden times, is ringing.
 -
 -    Uhu! Schuhu! Tu-whit! Tu-whit!
 -    Are the jay, and owl, and pewit
 -    All awake and loudly calling?
 -    What goes through the bushes yonder?
 -    Can it be the Salamander--
 -    Belly thick and legs a-sprawling?
 -    Roots and fibres, snake-like, crawling,
 -    Out from rocky, sandy places,
 -    Wheresoe'er we turn our faces,
 -    Stretch enormous fingers round us,
 -    Here to catch us, there confound us;
 -    Thick, black knars to life are starting,
 -    Polypusses'-feelers darting
 -    At the traveller. Field-mice, swarming,
 -    Thousand-colored armies forming,
 -    Scamper on through moss and heather!
 -    And the glow-worms, in the darkling,
 -    With their crowded escort sparkling,
 -    Would confound us altogether.
 -
 -    But to guess I'm vainly trying--
 -    Are we stopping? are we hieing?
 -    Round and round us all seems flying,
 -    Rocks and trees, that make grimaces,
 -    And the mist-lights of the places
 -    Ever swelling, multiplying.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Here's my coat-tail--tightly thumb it!
 -We have reached a middle summit,
 -Whence one stares to see how shines
 -Mammon in the mountain-mines.
 -
 -_Faust_. How strangely through the dim recesses
 -A dreary dawning seems to glow!
 -And even down the deep abysses
 -Its melancholy quiverings throw!
 -Here smoke is boiling, mist exhaling;
 -Here from a vapory veil it gleams,
 -Then, a fine thread of light, goes trailing,
 -Then gushes up in fiery streams.
 -The valley, here, you see it follow,
 -One mighty flood, with hundred rills,
 -And here, pent up in some deep hollow,
 -It breaks on all sides down the hills.
 -Here, spark-showers, darting up before us,
 -Like golden sand-clouds rise and fall.
 -But yonder see how blazes o'er us,
 -All up and down, the rocky wall!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Has not Sir Mammon gloriously lighted
 -His palace for this festive night?
 -Count thyself lucky for the sight:
 -I catch e'en now a glimpse of noisy guests invited.
 -
 -_Faust_. How the mad tempest[34] sweeps the air!
 -On cheek and neck the wind-gusts how they flout me.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Must seize the rock's old ribs and hold on stoutly!
 -Else will they hurl thee down the dark abysses there.
 -A mist-rain thickens the gloom.
 -Hark, how the forests crash and boom!
 -Out fly the owls in dread and wonder;
 -Splitting their columns asunder,
 -Hear it, the evergreen palaces shaking!
 -Boughs are twisting and breaking!
 -Of stems what a grinding and moaning!
 -Of roots what a creaking and groaning!
 -In frightful confusion, headlong tumbling,
 -They fall, with a sound of thunder rumbling,
 -And, through the wreck-piled ravines and abysses,
 -The tempest howls and hisses.
 -Hearst thou voices high up o'er us?
 -Close around us--far before us?
 -Through the mountain, all along,
 -Swells a torrent of magic song.
 -
 -_Witches_ [_in chorus_].  The witches go to the Brocken's top,
 -    The stubble is yellow, and green the crop.
 -    They gather there at the well-known call,
 -    Sir Urian[85] sits at the head of all.
 -    Then on we go o'er stone and stock:
 -    The witch, she--and--the buck.
 -
 -_Voice_. Old Baubo comes along, I vow!
 -She rides upon a farrow-sow.
 -
 -_Chorus_. Then honor to whom honor's due!
 -    Ma'am Baubo ahead! and lead the crew!
 -    A good fat sow, and ma'am on her back,
 -    Then follow the witches all in a pack.
 -
 -_Voice_. Which way didst thou come?
 -
 -_Voice_. By the Ilsenstein!
 -Peeped into an owl's nest, mother of mine!
 -What a pair of eyes!
 -
 -_Voice_. To hell with your flurry!
 -Why ride in such hurry!
 -
 -_Voice_. The hag be confounded!
 -My skin flie has wounded!
 -
 -_Witches_ [_chorus]._ The way is broad, the way is long,
 -    What means this noisy, crazy throng?
 -    The broom it scratches, the fork it flicks,
 -    The child is stifled, the mother breaks.
 -
 -_Wizards_ [_semi-chorus_]. Like housed-up snails we're creeping on,
 -The women all ahead are gone.
 -When to the Bad One's house we go,
 -She gains a thousand steps, you know.
 -
 -_The other half_. We take it not precisely so;
 -What she in thousand steps can go,
 -Make all the haste she ever can,
 -'Tis done in just one leap by man.
 -
 -_Voice_ [_above_]. Come on, come on, from Felsensee!
 -
 -_Voices_ [_from below_]. We'd gladly join your airy way.
 -For wash and clean us as much as we will,
 -We always prove unfruitful still.
 -
 -_Both chorusses_. The wind is hushed, the star shoots by,
 -    The moon she hides her sickly eye.
 -    The whirling, whizzing magic-choir
 -    Darts forth ten thousand sparks of fire.
 -
 -_Voice_ [_from below_]. Ho, there! whoa, there!
 -
 -_Voice_ [_from above_]. Who calls from the rocky cleft below there?
 -
 -_Voice_ [_below_]. Take me too! take me too!
 -Three hundred years I've climbed to you,
 -Seeking in vain my mates to come at,
 -For I can never reach the summit.
 -
 -_Both chorusses_. Can ride the besom, the stick can ride,
 -    Can stride the pitchfork, the goat can stride;
 -    Who neither will ride to-night, nor can,
 -    Must be forever a ruined man.
 -
 -_Half-witch_ [_below_]. I hobble on--I'm out of wind--
 -And still they leave me far behind!
 -To find peace here in vain I come,
 -I get no more than I left at home.
 -
 -_Chorus of witches_. The witch's salve can never fail,
 -    A rag will answer for a sail,
 -    Any trough will do for a ship, that's tight;
 -    He'll never fly who flies not to-night.
 -
 -_Both chorusses_. And when the highest peak we round,
 -    Then lightly graze along the ground,
 -    And cover the heath, where eye can see,
 -    With the flower of witch-errantry.
 -           [_They alight_.]
 -
 -_Mephistopheles._ What squeezing and pushing, what rustling and hustling!
 -What hissing and twirling, what chattering and bustling!
 -How it shines and sparkles and burns and stinks!
 -A true witch-element, methinks!
 -Keep close! or we are parted in two winks.
 -Where art thou?
 -
 -_Faust_ [_in the distance_]. Here!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. What! carried off already?
 -Then I must use my house-right.--Steady!
 -Room!  Squire Voland[36] comes.  Sweet people, Clear the ground!
 -Here, Doctor, grasp my arm! and, at a single bound;
 -Let us escape, while yet 'tis easy;
 -E'en for the like of me they're far too crazy.
 -See! yonder, something shines with quite peculiar glare,
 -And draws me to those bushes mazy.
 -Come! come! and let us slip in there.
 -
 -_Faust_. All-contradicting sprite! To follow thee I'm fated.
 -But I must say, thy plan was very bright!
 -We seek the Brocken here, on the Walpurgis night,
 -Then hold ourselves, when here, completely isolated!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. What motley flames light up the heather!
 -A merry club is met together,
 -In a small group one's not alone.
 -
 -_Faust_. I'd rather be up there, I own!
 -See! curling smoke and flames right blue!
 -To see the Evil One they travel;
 -There many a riddle to unravel.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. And tie up many another, too.
 -Let the great world there rave and riot,
 -We here will house ourselves in quiet.
 -The saying has been long well known:
 -In the great world one makes a small one of his own.
 -I see young witches there quite naked all,
 -And old ones who, more prudent, cover.
 -For my sake some flight things look over;
 -The fun is great, the trouble small.
 -I hear them tuning instruments! Curs'd jangle!
 -Well! one must learn with such things not to wrangle.
 -Come on! Come on! For so it needs must be,
 -Thou shalt at once be introduced by me.
 -And I new thanks from thee be earning.
 -That is no scanty space; what sayst thou, friend?
 -Just take a look! thou scarce canst see the end.
 -There, in a row, a hundred fires are burning;
 -They dance, chat, cook, drink, love; where can be found
 -Any thing better, now, the wide world round?
 -
 -_Faust_. Wilt thou, as things are now in this condition,
 -Present thyself for devil, or magician?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I've been much used, indeed, to going incognito;
 -
 -But then, on gala-day, one will his order show.
 -No garter makes my rank appear,
 -But then the cloven foot stands high in honor here.
 -Seest thou the snail? Look there! where she comes creeping yonder!
 -Had she already smelt the rat,
 -I should not very greatly wonder.
 -Disguise is useless now, depend on that.
 -Come, then! we will from fire to fire wander,
 -Thou shalt the wooer be and I the pander.
 -         [_To a party who sit round expiring embers_.]
 -Old gentlemen, you scarce can hear the fiddle!
 -You'd gain more praise from me, ensconced there in the middle,
 -'Mongst that young rousing, tousing set.
 -One can, at home, enough retirement get.
 -
 -_General_. Trust not the people's fickle favor!
 -However much thou mayst for them have done.
 -Nations, as well as women, ever,
 -Worship the rising, not the setting sun.
 -
 -_Minister_. From the right path we've drifted far away,
 -The good old past my heart engages;
 -Those were the real golden ages,
 -When such as we held all the sway.
 -
 -_Parvenu_. We were no simpletons, I trow,
 -And often did the thing we should not;
 -But all is turning topsy-turvy now,
 -And if we tried to stem the wave, we could not.
 -
 -_Author_. Who on the whole will read a work today,
 -Of moderate sense, with any pleasure?
 -And as regards the dear young people, they
 -Pert and precocious are beyond all measure.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_ [_who all at once appears very old_].
 -The race is ripened for the judgment day:
 -So I, for the last time, climb the witch-mountain, thinking,
 -And, as my cask runs thick, I say,
 -The world, too, on its lees is sinking.
 -
 -_Witch-broker_. Good gentlemen, don't hurry by!
 -The opportunity's a rare one!
 -My stock is an uncommon fair one,
 -Please give it an attentive eye.
 -There's nothing in my shop, whatever,
 -But on the earth its mate is found;
 -That has not proved itself right clever
 -To deal mankind some fatal wound.
 -No dagger here, but blood has some time stained it;
 -No cup, that has not held some hot and poisonous juice,
 -And stung to death the throat that drained it;
 -No trinket, but did once a maid seduce;
 -No sword, but hath some tie of sacred honor riven,
 -Or haply from behind through foeman's neck been driven.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. You're quite behind the times, I tell you, Aunty!
 -By-gones be by-gones! done is done!
 -Get us up something new and jaunty!
 -For new things now the people run.
 -
 -_Faust_. To keep my wits I must endeavor!
 -Call this a fair! I swear, I never--!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Upward the billowy mass is moving;
 -You're shoved along and think, meanwhile, you're shoving.
 -
 -_Faust_. What woman's that?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Mark her attentively.
 -That's Lilith.[37]
 -
 -_Faust_. Who?
 -
 -_Mephistopbeles_. Adam's first wife is she.
 -Beware of her one charm, those lovely tresses,
 -In which she shines preeminently fair.
 -When those soft meshes once a young man snare,
 -How hard 'twill be to escape he little guesses.
 -
 -_Faust_. There sit an old one and a young together;
 -They've skipped it well along the heather!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. No rest from that till night is through.
 -Another dance is up; come on! let us fall to.
 -
 -_Faust_ [_dancing with the young one_]. A lovely dream once came to me;
 -In it I saw an apple-tree;
 -Two beauteous apples beckoned there,
 -I climbed to pluck the fruit so fair.
 -
 -_The Fair one_. Apples you greatly seem to prize,
 -And did so even in Paradise.
 -I feel myself delighted much
 -That in my garden I have such.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_ [_with the old hag_]. A dismal dream once came to me;
 -In it I saw a cloven tree,
 -It had a ------ but still,
 -I looked on it with right good-will.
 -
 -_The Hog_. With best respect I here salute
 -The noble knight of the cloven foot!
 -Let him hold a ------ near,
 -If a ------ he does not fear.
 -
 -_Proctophantasmist_.[38] What's this ye undertake? Confounded crew!
 -Have we not giv'n you demonstration?
 -No spirit stands on legs in all creation,
 -And here you dance just as we mortals do!
 -
 -_The Fair one_ [_dancing_]. What does that fellow at our ball?
 -
 -_Faust_ [_dancing_]. Eh! he must have a hand in all.
 -What others dance that he appraises.
 -Unless each step he criticizes,
 -The step as good as no step he will call.
 -But when we move ahead, that plagues him more than all.
 -If in a circle you would still keep turning,
 -As he himself in his old mill goes round,
 -He would be sure to call that sound!
 -And most so, if you went by his superior learning.
 -
 -_Proctophantasmist_. What, and you still are here! Unheard off obstinates!
 -Begone! We've cleared it up! You shallow pates!
 -The devilish pack from rules deliverance boasts.
 -We've grown so wise, and Tegel[39] still sees ghosts.
 -How long I've toiled to sweep these cobwebs from the brain,
 -And yet--unheard of folly! all in vain.
 -
 -_The Fair one_. And yet on us the stupid bore still tries it!
 -
 -_Proctophantasmist_. I tell you spirits, to the face,
 -I give to spirit-tyranny no place,
 -My spirit cannot exercise it.
 -             [_They dance on_.]
 -I can't succeed to-day, I know it;
 -Still, there's the journey, which I like to make,
 -And hope, before the final step I take,
 -To rid the world of devil and of poet.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. You'll see him shortly sit into a puddle,
 -In that way his heart is reassured;
 -When on his rump the leeches well shall fuddle,
 -Of spirits and of spirit he'll be cured.
 -            [_To_ FAUST, _who has left the dance_.]
 -Why let the lovely girl slip through thy fingers,
 -Who to thy dance so sweetly sang?
 -
 -_Faust_. Ah, right amidst her singing, sprang
 -A wee red mouse from her mouth and made me cower.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. That's nothing wrong! You're in a dainty way;
 -Enough, the mouse at least wan't gray.
 -Who minds such thing in happy amorous hour?
 -
 -_Faust_. Then saw I--
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. What?
 -
 -_Faust_. Mephisto, seest thou not
 -Yon pale, fair child afar, who stands so sad and lonely,
 -And moves so slowly from the spot,
 -Her feet seem locked, and she drags them only.
 -I must confess, she seems to me
 -To look like my own good Margery.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Leave that alone! The sight no health can bring.
 -it is a magic shape, an idol, no live thing.
 -To meet it never can be good!
 -Its haggard look congeals a mortal's blood,
 -And almost turns him into stone;
 -The story of Medusa thou hast known.
 -
 -_Faust_. Yes, 'tis a dead one's eyes that stare upon me,
 -Eyes that no loving hand e'er closed;
 -That is the angel form of her who won me,
 -Tis the dear breast on which I once reposed.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. 'Tis sorcery all, thou fool, misled by passion's dreams!
 -For she to every one his own love seems.
 -
 -_Faust_. What bliss! what woe!  Methinks I never
 -My sight from that sweet form can sever.
 -Seeft thou, not thicker than a knife-blade's back,
 -A small red ribbon, fitting sweetly
 -The lovely neck it clasps so neatly?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I see the streak around her neck.
 -Her head beneath her arm, you'll next behold her;
 -Perseus has lopped it from her shoulder,--
 -But let thy crazy passion rest!
 -Come, climb with me yon hillock's breast,
 -Was e'er the Prater[40] merrier then?
 -And if no sorcerer's charm is o'er me,
 -That is a theatre before me.
 -What's doing there?
 -
 -_Servibilis_. They'll straight begin again.
 -A bran-new piece, the very last of seven;
 -To have so much, the fashion here thinks fit.
 -By Dilettantes it is given;
 -'Twas by a Dilettante writ.
 -Excuse me, sirs, I go to greet you;
 -I am the curtain-raising Dilettant.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. When I upon the Blocksberg meet you,
 -That I approve; for there's your place, I grant.
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -     WALPURGIS-NIGHT'S DREAM, OR OBERON AND TITANIA'S GOLDEN NUPTIALS.
 -
 -     _Intermezzo_.
 -
 -
 -_Theatre manager_. Here, for once, we rest, to-day,
 -Heirs of Mieding's[41] glory.
 -All the scenery we display--
 -Damp vale and mountain hoary!
 -
 -_Herald_. To make the wedding a golden one,
 -Must fifty years expire;
 -But when once the strife is done,
 -I prize the _gold_ the higher.
 -
 -_Oberon_. Spirits, if my good ye mean,
 -Now let all wrongs be righted;
 -For to-day your king and queen
 -Are once again united.
 -
 -_Puck_. Once let Puck coming whirling round,
 -And set his foot to whisking,
 -Hundreds with him throng the ground,
 -Frolicking and frisking.
 -
 -_Ariel_. Ariel awakes the song
 -With many a heavenly measure;
 -Fools not few he draws along,
 -But fair ones hear with pleasure.
 -
 -_Oberon_. Spouses who your feuds would smother,
 -Take from us a moral!
 -Two who wish to love each other,
 -Need only first to quarrel.
 -
 -_Titania_. If she pouts and he looks grim,
 -Take them both together,
 -To the north pole carry him,
 -And off with her to t'other.
 -
 -        _Orchestra Tutti_.
 -
 -_Fortissimo_. Fly-snouts and gnats'-noses, these,
 -And kin in all conditions,
 -Grass-hid crickets, frogs in trees,
 -We take for our musicians!
 -
 -_Solo_. See, the Bagpipe comes! fall back!
 -Soap-bubble's name he owneth.
 -How the _Schnecke-schnicke-schnack_
 -Through his snub-nose droneth!
 -_Spirit that is just shaping itself_. Spider-foot, toad's-belly, too,
 -Give the child, and winglet!
 -'Tis no animalcule, true,
 -But a poetic thinglet.
 -
 -_A pair of lovers_. Little step and lofty bound
 -Through honey-dew and flowers;
 -Well thou trippest o'er the ground,
 -But soarst not o'er the bowers.
 -
 -_Curious traveller_. This must be masquerade!
 -How odd!
 -My very eyes believe I?
 -Oberon, the beauteous God
 -Here, to-night perceive I!
 -
 -_Orthodox_. Neither claws, nor tail I see!
 -And yet, without a cavil,
 -Just as "the Gods of Greece"[42] were, he
 -Must also be a devil.
 -
 -_Northern artist_. What here I catch is, to be sure,
 -But sketchy recreation;
 -And yet for my Italian tour
 -'Tis timely preparation.
 -
 -_Purist_. Bad luck has brought me here, I see!
 -The rioting grows louder.
 -And of the whole witch company,
 -There are but two, wear powder.
 -
 -_Young witch_. Powder becomes, like petticoat,
 -Your little, gray old woman:
 -Naked I sit upon my goat,
 -And show the untrimmed human.
 -
 -_Matron_. To stand here jawing[43] with you, we
 -Too much good-breeding cherish;
 -But young and tender though you be,
 -I hope you'll rot and perish.
 -
 -_Leader of the music_. Fly-snouts and gnat-noses, please,
 -Swarm not so round the naked!
 -Grass-hid crickets, frogs in trees,
 -Keep time and don't forsake it!
 -
 -_Weathercock_ [_towards one side_]. Find better company, who can!
 -Here, brides attended duly!
 -There, bachelors, ranged man by man,
 -Most hopeful people truly!
 -
 -_Weathercock [towards the other side_].
 -And if the ground don't open straight,
 -The crazy crew to swallow,
 -You'll see me, at a furious rate,
 -Jump down to hell's black hollow.
 -
 -_Xenia[_44] We are here as insects, ah!
 -Small, sharp nippers wielding,
 -Satan, as our _cher papa_,
 -Worthy honor yielding.
 -
 -_Hennings_. See how naïvely, there, the throng
 -Among themselves are jesting,
 -You'll hear them, I've no doubt, ere long,
 -Their good kind hearts protesting.
 -
 -_Musagetes_. Apollo in this witches' group
 -Himself right gladly loses;
 -For truly I could lead this troop
 -Much easier than the muses.
 -
 -_Ci-devant genius of the age_. Right company will raise man up.
 -Come, grasp my skirt, Lord bless us!
 -The Blocksberg has a good broad top,
 -Like Germany's Parnassus.
 -
 -_Curious traveller_. Tell me who is that stiff man?
 -With what stiff step he travels!
 -He noses out whate'er he can.
 -"He scents the Jesuit devils."
 -
 -_Crane_. In clear, and muddy water, too,
 -The long-billed gentleman fishes;
 -Our pious gentlemen we view
 -Fingering in devils' dishes.
 -
 -_Child of this world_. Yes, with the pious ones, 'tis clear,
 -"All's grist that comes to their mill;"
 -They build their tabernacles here,
 -On Blocksberg, as on Carmel.
 -
 -_Dancer_. Hark! a new choir salutes my ear!
 -I hear a distant drumming.
 -"Be not disturbed! 'mong reeds you hear
 -The one-toned bitterns bumming."
 -
 -_Dancing-master._ How each his legs kicks up and flings,
 -Pulls foot as best he's able!
 -The clumsy hops, the crooked springs,
 -'Tis quite disreputable!
 -
 -_Fiddler_. The scurvy pack, they hate, 'tis clear,
 -Like cats and dogs, each other.
 -Like Orpheus' lute, the bagpipe here
 -Binds beast to beast as brother.
 -
 -_Dogmatist_. You'll not scream down my reason, though,
 -By criticism's cavils.
 -The devil's something, that I know,
 -Else how could there be devils?
 -
 -_Idealist_. Ah, phantasy, for once thy sway
 -Is guilty of high treason.
 -If all I see is I, to-day,
 -'Tis plain I've lost my reason.
 -
 -_Realist_. To me, of all life's woes and plagues,
 -Substance is most provoking,
 -For the first time I feel my legs
 -Beneath me almost rocking.
 -
 -_Supernaturalist_. I'm overjoyed at being here,
 -And even among these rude ones;
 -For if bad spirits are, 'tis clear,
 -There also must be good ones.
 -
 -_Skeptic_. Where'er they spy the flame they roam,
 -And think rich stores to rifle,
 -Here such as I are quite at home,
 -For _Zweifel_ rhymes with _Teufel_.[45]
 -
 -_Leader of the music_. Grass-hid cricket, frogs in trees,
 -You cursed dilettanti!
 -Fly-snouts and gnats'-noses, peace!
 -Musicians you, right jaunty!
 -
 -_The Clever ones_. Sans-souci we call this band
 -Of merry ones that skip it;
 -Unable on our feet to stand,
 -Upon our heads we trip it.
 -
 -_The Bunglers_. Time was, we caught our tit-bits, too,
 -God help us now! that's done with!
 -We've danced our leathers entirely through,
 -And have only bare soles to run with.
 -
 -_Jack-o'lanterns_. From the dirty bog we come,
 -Whence we've just arisen:
 -Soon in the dance here, quite at home,
 -As gay young _sparks_ we'll glisten.
 -
 -_Shooting star_. Trailing from the sky I shot,
 -Not a star there missed me:
 -Crooked up in this grassy spot,
 -Who to my legs will assist me?
 -
 -_The solid men_. Room there! room there! clear the ground!
 -Grass-blades well may fall so;
 -Spirits are we, but 'tis found
 -They have plump limbs also.
 -
 -_Puck_. Heavy men! do not, I say,
 -Like elephants' calves go stumping:
 -Let the plumpest one to-day
 -Be Puck, the ever-jumping.
 -
 -_Ariel_. If the spirit gave, indeed,
 -If nature gave you, pinions,
 -Follow up my airy lead
 -To the rose-dominions!
 -
 -_Orchestra_ [_pianissimo_]. Gauzy mist and fleecy cloud
 -Sun and wind have banished.
 -Foliage rustles, reeds pipe loud,
 -All the show has vanished.
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -     DREARY DAY.[46]
 -
 -     _Field_.
 -
 -
 -     FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.
 -
 -_Faust_. In wretchedness! In despair! Long hunted up and down the earth, a
 -miserable fugitive, and caught at last! Locked up as a malefactor in
 -prison, to converse with horrible torments--the sweet, unhappy creature!
 -Even to this pass! even to this!--Treacherous, worthless spirit, and this
 -thou hast hidden from me!--Stand up here--stand up! Roll thy devilish eyes
 -round grimly in thy head! Stand and defy me with thy intolerable presence!
 -Imprisoned! In irretrievable misery! Given over to evil spirits and to the
 -judgment of unfeeling humanity, and me meanwhile thou lullest in insipid
 -dissipations, concealest from me her growing anguish, and leavest her
 -without help to perish!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. She is not the first!
 -
 -_Faust_. Dog! abominable monster! Change him, thou Infinite Spirit! change
 -the worm back into his canine form, as he was often pleased in the night
 -to trot before me, to roll before the feet of the harmless wanderer, and,
 -when he fell, to hang on his shoulders. Change him again into his favorite
 -shape, that he may crawl before me on his belly in the sand, and that I
 -may tread him under foot, the reprobate!--Not the first! Misery! Misery!
 -inconceivable by any human soul! that more than one creature ever sank
 -into the depth of this wretchedness, that the first in its writhing
 -death-agony did not atone for the guilt of all the rest before the eyes of
 -the eternally Forgiving! My very marrow and life are consumed by the
 -misery of this single one; thou grinnest away composedly at the fate of
 -thousands!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Here we are again at our wits' ends already, where the
 -thread of sense, with you mortals, snaps short. Why make a partnership
 -with us, if thou canst not carry it through? Wilt fly, and art not proof
 -against dizziness? Did we thrust ourselves on thee, or thou on us?
 -
 -_Faust_. Gnash not so thy greedy teeth against me! It disgusts me!--Great
 -and glorious spirit, thou that deignedst to appear to me, who knowest my
 -heart and soul, why yoke me to this shame-fellow, who feeds on mischief
 -and feasts on ruin?
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Hast thou done?
 -
 -_Faust_. Rescue her! O woe be unto thee! The most horrible curse on thee
 -for thousands of years!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I cannot loose the bonds of the avenger, nor open his
 -bolts.--Rescue her!--Who was it that plunged her into ruin? I or thou?
 -                  [FAUST _looks wildly round_.]
 -Grasp'st thou after the thunder? Well that it was not given to you
 -miserable mortals! To crush an innocent respondent, that is a sort of
 -tyrant's-way of getting room to breathe in embarrassment.
 -
 -_Faust_. Lead me to her! She shall be free!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. And the danger which thou incurrest? Know that the guilt
 -of blood at thy hand still lies upon the town. Over the place of the
 -slain, avenging spirits hover and lurk for the returning murderer.
 -
 -_Faust_. That, too, from thee? Murder and death of a world upon thee,
 -monster! Lead me thither, I say, and free her!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. I will lead thee, and hear what I can do! Have I all
 -power in heaven and on earth? I will becloud the turnkey's senses; possess
 -thyself of the keys, and bear her out with human hand. I will watch! The
 -magic horses shall be ready, and I will bear you away. So much I can do.
 -
 -_Faust_. Up and away!
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -      NIGHT. OPEN FIELD.
 -
 -      FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.
 -      _Scudding along on black horses_.
 -
 -_Faust_. What's doing, off there, round the gallows-tree?[47]
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Know not what they are doing and brewing.
 -
 -_Faust_. Up they go--down they go--wheel about, reel about.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. A witches'-crew.
 -
 -_Faust_. They're strewing and vowing.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. Pass on! Pass on!
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -      PRISON.
 -
 -      FAUST [_with a bunch of keys and a lamp, before an iron door_]
 -A long unwonted chill comes o'er me,
 -I feel the whole great load of human woe.
 -Within this clammy wall that frowns before me
 -Lies one whom blinded love, not guilt, brought low!
 -Thou lingerest, in hope to grow bolder!
 -Thou fearest again to behold her!
 -On! Thy shrinking slowly hastens the blow!
 -             [_He grasps the key. Singing from within_.]
 -My mother, the harlot,
 -That strung me up!
 -My father, the varlet,
 -That ate me up!
 -My sister small,
 -She gathered up all
 -The bones that day,
 -And in a cool place did lay;
 -Then I woke, a sweet bird, at a magic call;
 -Fly away, fly away!
 -
 -_Faust [unlocking_]. She little dreams, her lover is so near,
 -The clanking chains, the rustling straw can hear;
 -              [_He enters_.]
 -
 -_Margaret [burying herself in the bed_]. Woe! woe!
 -They come. O death of bitterness!
 -
 -_Faust_ [_softly_]. Hush! hush! I come to free thee; thou art dreaming.
 -
 -_Margaret_ [_prostrating herself before him_].
 -Art thou a man, then feel for my distress.
 -
 -_Faust_. Thou'lt wake the guards with thy loud screaming!
 -       [_He seizes the chains to tin lock them._]
 -
 -_Margaret_ [_on her knees_]. Headsman, who's given thee this right
 -O'er me, this power!
 -Thou com'st for me at dead of night;
 -In pity spare me, one short hour!
 -Wilt't not be time when Matin bell has rung?
 -            [_She stands up._]
 -Ah, I am yet so young, so young!
 -And death pursuing!
 -Fair was I too, and that was my undoing.
 -My love was near, far is he now!
 -Tom is the wreath, the scattered flowers lie low.
 -Take not such violent hold of me!
 -Spare me! what harm have I done to thee?
 -Let me not in vain implore thee.
 -Thou ne'er till now sawft her who lies before thee!
 -
 -_Faust_. O sorrow worse than death is o'er me!
 -
 -_Margaret_. Now I am wholly in thy power.
 -But first I'd nurse my child--do not prevent me.
 -I hugged it through the black night hour;
 -They took it from me to torment me,
 -And now they say I killed the pretty flower.
 -I shall never be happy again, I know.
 -They sing vile songs at me! 'Tis bad in them to do it!
 -There's an old tale that ends just so,
 -Who gave that meaning to it?
 -
 -_Faust [prostrates himself_]. A lover at thy feet is bending,
 -Thy bonds of misery would be rending.
 -
 -_Margaret [flings herself beside him_].
 -O let us kneel, the saints for aid invoking!
 -See! 'neath the threshold smoking,
 -Fire-breathing,
 -Hell is seething!
 -There prowling,
 -And grim under cover,
 -Satan is howling!
 -
 -_Faust [aloud_]. Margery! Margery!
 -
 -_Margaret [listening_]. That was the voice of my lover!
 -               [_She springs up. The chains fall off_.]
 -
 -Where is he? Where? He calls. I hear him.
 -I'm free! Who hinders? I will be near him.
 -I'll fly to his neck! I'll hold him!
 -To my bosom I'll enfold him!
 -He stood on the threshold--called Margery plainly!
 -Hell's howling and clattering to drown it sought vainly,--
 -Through the devilish, grim scoffs, that might turn one to stone,
 -I caught the sweet, loving, enrapturing tone.
 -
 -_Faust_. 'Tis I!
 -
 -_Margaret_. 'Tis thou! O say it once again.
 -            [_Clasping again._]
 -'Tis he! 'tis he! Where now is all my pain?
 -And where the dungeon's anguish? Joy-giver!
 -'Tis thou! And come to deliver!
 -I am delivered!
 -Again before me lies the street,
 -Where for the first time thou and I did meet.
 -And the garden-bower,
 -Where we spent that evening hour.
 -
 -_Faust_ [_trying to draw her away_]. Come! Come with me!
 -
 -_Margaret_. O tarry!
 -I tarry so gladly where thou tarriest.
 -          [_Caressing him._]
 -
 -_Faust_. Hurry!
 -Unless thou hurriest,
 -Bitterly we both must rue it.
 -
 -_Margaret_. Kiss me! Canst no more do it?
 -So short an absence, love, as this,
 -And forgot how to kiss?
 -What saddens me so as I hang about thy neck?
 -When once, in thy words, thy looks, such a heaven of blisses
 -Came o'er me, I thought my heart would break,
 -And it seemed as if thou wouldst smother me with kisses.
 -Kiss thou me!
 -Else I kiss thee!
 -             [_She embraces him._]
 -Woe! woe! thy lips are cold,
 -Stone-dumb.
 -Where's thy love left?
 -Oh! I'm bereft!
 -Who robbed me?
 -            [_She turns from him_]
 -
 -_Faust_.         O come!
 -Take courage, my darling! Let us go;
 -I clasp-thee with unutterable glow;
 -But follow me! For this alone I plead!
 -
 -_Margaret [turning to him_]. Is it, then, thou?
 -And is it thou indeed?
 -
 -_Faust_. 'Tis I! Come, follow me!
 -
 -_Margaret_. Thou break'st my chain,
 -And tak'st me to thy breast again!
 -How comes it, then, that thou art not afraid of me?
 -And dost thou know, my friend, who 'tis thou settest free?
 -
 -_Faust_. Come! come! The night is on the wane.
 -
 -_Margaret_. Woe! woe! My mother I've slain!
 -Have drowned the babe of mine!
 -Was it not sent to be mine and thine?
 -Thine, too--'tis thou! Scarce true doth it seem.
 -Give me thy hand! 'Tis not a dream!
 -Thy blessed hand!--But ah! there's dampness here!
 -Go, wipe it off! I fear
 -There's blood thereon.
 -Ah God! what hast thou done!
 -Put up thy sword again;
 -I pray thee, do!
 -
 -_Faust_. The past is past--there leave it then,
 -Thou kill'st me too!
 -
 -_Margaret_. No, thou must longer tarry!
 -I'll tell thee how each thou shalt bury;
 -The places of sorrow
 -Make ready to-morrow;
 -Must give the best place to my mother,
 -The very next to my brother,
 -Me a little aside,
 -But make not the space too wide!
 -And on my right breast let the little one lie.
 -No one else will be sleeping by me.
 -Once, to feel _thy_ heart beat nigh me,
 -Oh, 'twas a precious, a tender joy!
 -But I shall have it no more--no, never;
 -I seem to be forcing myself on thee ever,
 -And thou repelling me freezingly;
 -And 'tis thou, the same good soul, I see.
 -
 -_Faust_. If thou feelest 'tis I, then come with me
 -
 -_Margaret_. Out yonder?
 -
 -_Faust_. Into the open air.
 -
 -_Margaret_. If the grave is there,
 -If death is lurking; then come!
 -From here to the endless resting-place,
 -And not another pace--Thou
 -go'st e'en now? O, Henry, might I too.
 -
 -_Faust_. Thou canst! 'Tis but to will!  The door stands open.
 -
 -_Margaret_. I dare not go; for me there's no more hoping.
 -What use to fly? They lie in wait for me.
 -So wretched the lot to go round begging,
 -With an evil conscience thy spirit plaguing!
 -So wretched the lot, an exile roaming--And
 -then on my heels they are ever coming!
 -
 -_Faust_. I shall be with thee.
 -
 -_Margaret_. Make haste! make haste!
 -No time to waste!
 -Save thy poor child!
 -Quick! follow the edge
 -Of the rushing rill,
 -Over the bridge
 -And by the mill,
 -Then into the woods beyond
 -On the left where lies the plank
 -Over the pond.
 -Seize hold of it quick!
 -To rise 'tis trying,
 -It struggles still!
 -Rescue! rescue!
 -
 -_Faust_. Bethink thyself, pray!
 -A single step and thou art free!
 -
 -_Margaret_. Would we were by the mountain. See!
 -There sits my mother on a stone,
 -The sight on my brain is preying!
 -There sits my mother on a stone,
 -And her head is constantly swaying;
 -She beckons not, nods not, her head falls o'er,
 -So long she's been sleeping, she'll wake no more.
 -She slept that we might take pleasure.
 -O that was bliss without measure!
 -
 -_Faust_.  Since neither reason nor prayer thou hearest;
 -I must venture by force to take thee, dearest.
 -
 -_Margaret_. Let go! No violence will I bear!
 -Take not such a murderous hold of me!
 -I once did all I could to gratify thee.
 -
 -_Faust_. The day is breaking! Dearest! dearest!
 -
 -_Margaret_. Day! Ay, it is day! the last great day breaks in!
 -My wedding-day it should have been!
 -Tell no one thou hast been with Margery!
 -Alas for my garland! The hour's advancing!
 -Retreat is in vain!
 -We meet again,
 -But not at the dancing.
 -The multitude presses, no word is spoke.
 -Square, streets, all places--
 -sea of faces--
 -The bell is tolling, the staff is broke.
 -How they seize me and bind me!
 -They hurry me off to the bloody block.[48]
 -The blade that quivers behind me,
 -Quivers at every neck with convulsive shock;
 -Dumb lies the world as the grave!
 -
 -_Faust_. O had I ne'er been born!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles [appears without_]. Up! or thou'rt lost! The morn
 -Flushes the sky.
 -Idle delaying! Praying and playing!
 -My horses are neighing,
 -They shudder and snort for the bound.
 -
 -_Margaret_. What's that, comes up from the ground?
 -He! He! Avaunt! that face!
 -What will he in the sacred place?
 -He seeks me!
 -
 -_Faust_. Thou shalt live!
 -
 -_Margaret_. Great God in heaven!
 -Unto thy judgment my soul have I given!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles [to Faust_].
 -Come! come! or in the lurch I leave both her and thee!
 -
 -_Margaret_. Thine am I, Father! Rescue me!
 -Ye angels, holy bands, attend me!
 -And camp around me to defend me I
 -Henry! I dread to look on thee.
 -
 -_Mephistopheles_. She's judged!
 -
 -_Voice [from above_]. She's saved!
 -
 -_Mephistopheles [to Faust_]. Come thou to me!
 -               [_Vanishes with_ FAUST.]
 -
 -_Voice [from within, dying away_]. Henry! Henry!
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -NOTES.
 -
 -
 -[Footnote 1: Dedication. The idea of Faust had early entered into Goethe's
 -mind. He probably began the work when he was about twenty years old. It
 -was first published, as a fragment, in 1790, and did not appear in its
 -present form till 1808, when its author's age was nearly sixty. By the
 -"forms" are meant, of course, the shadowy personages and scenes of the
 -drama.]
 -
 -[Footnote 2: --"Thy messengers"--
 -  "He maketh the winds his-messengers,
 -  The flaming lightnings his ministers."
 -    _Noyes's Psalms_, c. iv. 4.]
 -
 -[Footnote 3: "The Word Divine." In translating the German "Werdende"
 -(literally, the _becoming, developing_, or _growing_) by the term _word_,
 -I mean the _word_ in the largest sense: "In the beginning was the Word,
 -&c." Perhaps "nature" would be a pretty good rendering, but "word," being
 -derived from "werden," and expressing philosophically and scripturally the
 -going forth or manifestation of mind, seemed to me as appropriate a
 -translation as any.]
 -
 -[Footnote 4: "The old fellow." The commentators do not seem quite agreed
 -whether "den Alten" (the old one) is an entirely reverential phrase here,
 -like the "ancient of days," or savors a little of profane pleasantry, like
 -the title "old man" given by boys to their schoolmaster or of "the old
 -gentleman" to their fathers. Considering who the speaker is, I have
 -naturally inclined to the latter alternative.]
 -
 -[Footnote 5: "Nostradamus" (properly named Michel Notre Dame) lived
 -through the first half of the sixteenth century. He was born in the south
 -of France and was of Jewish extraction. As physician and astrologer, he
 -was held in high honor by the French nobility and kings.]
 -
 -[Footnote 6: The "Macrocosm" is the great world of outward things, in
 -contrast with its epitome, the little world in man, called the microcosm
 -(or world in miniature).]
 -
 -[Footnote 7: "Famulus" seems to mean a cross between a servant and a
 -scholar. The Dominie Sampson called Wagner, is appended to Faust for the
 -time somewhat as Sancho is to Don Quixote. The Doctor Faust of the legend
 -has a servant by that name, who seems to have been more of a _Sancho_, in
 -the sense given to the word by the old New England mothers when upbraiding
 -bad boys (you Sanch'!).  Curiously enough, Goethe had in early life a
 -(treacherous) friend named Wagner, who plagiarized part of Faust and made
 -a tragedy of it.]
 -
 -[Footnote 8: "Mock-heroic play." We have Schlegel's authority for thus
 -rendering the phrase "Haupt- und Staats-Action," (literally, "head and
 -State-action,") who says that this title was given to dramas designed for
 -puppets, when they treated of heroic and historical subjects.]
 -
 -[Footnote 9: The literal sense of this couplet in the original is:--
 -  "Is he, in the bliss of becoming,
 -  To creative joy near--"
 -"Werde-lust" presents the same difficulty that we found in note 3. This
 -same word, "Werden," is also used by the poet in the introductory theatre
 -scene (page 7), where he longs for the time when he himself was
 -_ripening_, growing, becoming, or _forming_, (as Hayward renders it.) I
 -agree with Hayward, "the meaning probably is, that our Saviour enjoys, in
 -coming to life again," (I should say, in being born into the upper life,)
 -"a happiness nearly equal to that of the Creator in creating."]
 -
 -[Footnote 10: The Angel-chorusses in this scene present the only instances
 -in which the translator, for the sake of retaining the ring and swing of
 -the melody, has felt himself obliged to give a transfusion of the spirit
 -of the thought, instead of its exact form.
 -
 -The literal meaning of the first chorus is:--
 -
 -  Christ is arisen!
 -  Joy to the Mortal,
 -  Whom the ruinous,
 -  Creeping, hereditary
 -  Infirmities wound round.
 -
 -Dr. Hedge has come nearer than any one to reconciling meaning and melody
 -thus:--
 -
 -  "Christ has arisen!
 -  Joy to our buried Head!
 -  Whom the unmerited,
 -  Trailing, inherited
 -  Woes did imprison."
 -
 -The present translator, without losing sight of the fact that "the Mortal"
 -means Christ, has taken the liberty (constrained by rhyme,--which is
 -sometimes more than the _rudder_ of verse,) of making the congratulation
 -include Humanity, as incarnated in Christ, "the second Adam."
 -
 -In the closing Chorus of Angels, the translator found that he could best
 -preserve the spirit of the five-fold rhyme:--
 -
 -  "Thätig ihn preisenden,
 -  Liebe beweisenden,
 -  Brüderlich speisenden,
 -  Predigend reisenden,
 -  Wonne verheissenden,"
 -
 -by running it into three couplets.]
 -
 -[Footnote 11: The prose account of the alchymical process is as follows:--
 -
 -"There was red mercury, a powerfully acting body, united with the tincture
 -of antimony, at a gentle heat of the water-bath. Then, being exposed to
 -the heat of open fire in an aludel, (or alembic,) a sublimate filled its
 -heads in succession, which, if it appeared with various hues, was the
 -desired medicine."]
 -
 -[Footnote 12: "Salamander, &c."  The four represent the spirits of the
 -four elements, fire, water, air, and earth, which Faust successively
 -conjures, so that, if the monster belongs in any respect to this mundane
 -sphere, he may be exorcized. But it turns out that he is beyond and
 -beneath all.]
 -
 -[Footnote 13: Here, of course, Faust makes the sign of the cross, or holds
 -out a crucifix.]
 -
 -[Footnote 14: "Fly-God," _i.e._ Beelzebub.]
 -
 -[Footnote 15: The "Drudenfuss," or pentagram, was a pentagonal figure
 -composed of three triangles, thus:
 -[Illustration]
 -
 -[Footnote 16: Doctor's Feast. The inaugural feast given at taking a
 -degree.]
 -
 -[Footnote 17: "Blood." When at the first invention of printing, the art
 -was ascribed to the devil, the illuminated red ink parts were said by the
 -people to be done in blood.]
 -
 -[Footnote 18: "The Spanish boot" was an instrument of torture, like the
 -Scottish boot mentioned in Old Mortality.]
 -
 -[Footnote 19: "Encheiresin Naturæ." Literally, a handling of nature.]
 -
 -[Footnote 20: Still a famous place of public resort and entertainment. On
 -the wall are two old paintings of Faust's carousal and his ride out of the
 -door on a cask. One is accompanied by the following inscription, being two
 -lines (Hexameter and Pentameter) broken into halves:--
 -
 -  "Vive, bibe, obgregare, memor
 -  Fausti hujus et hujus
 -  Pœnæ. Aderat clauda haec,
 -  Ast erat ampla gradû. 1525."
 -
 -  "Live, drink, be merry, remembering
 -  This Faust and his
 -  Punishment. It came slowly
 -  But was in ample measure."]
 -
 -[Footnote 21:_Frosch, Brander_, &c. These names seem to be chosen with an
 -eye to adaptation, Frosch meaning frog, and Brander fireship. "Frog"
 -happens also to be the nickname the students give to a pupil of the
 -gymnasium, or school preparatory to the university.]
 -
 -[Footnote 22: Rippach is a village near Leipsic, and Mr. Hans was a
 -fictitious personage about whom the students used to quiz greenhorns.]
 -
 -[Footnote 23: The original means literally _sea-cat_.  Retzsch says, it is
 -the little ring-tailed monkey.]
 -
 -[Footnote 24: One-time-one, _i.e._ multiplication-table.]
 -
 -[Footnote 25: "Hand and glove." The translator's coincidence with Miss
 -Swanwick here was entirely accidental. The German is "thou and thou,"
 -alluding to the fact that intimate friends among the Germans, like the
 -sect of Friends, call each other _thou_.]
 -
 -[Footnote 26: The following is a literal translation of the song referred
 -to:--
 -
 -  Were I a little bird,
 -  Had I two wings of mine,
 -  I'd fly to my dear;
 -  But that can never be,
 -  So I stay here.
 -
 -  Though I am far from thee,
 -  Sleeping I'm near to thee,
 -  Talk with my dear;
 -  When I awake again,
 -  I am alone.
 -
 -  Scarce is there an hour in the night,
 -  When sleep does not take its flight,
 -  And I think of thee,
 -  How many thousand times
 -  Thou gav'st thy heart to me.]
 -
 -[Footnote 27: Donjon. The original is _Zwinger_, which Hayward says is
 -untranslatable. It probably means an old tower, such as is often found in
 -the free cities, where, in a dark passage-way, a lamp is sometimes placed,
 -and a devotional image near it.]
 -
 -[Footnote 28: It was a superstitious belief that the presence of buried
 -treasure was indicated by a blue flame.]
 -
 -[Footnote 29: Lion-dollars--a Bohemian coin, first minted three centuries
 -ago, by Count Schlick, from the mines of Joachim's-Thal. The one side
 -bears a lion, the other a full length image of St. John.]
 -
 -[Footnote 30: An imitation of Ophelia's song: _Hamlet_, act 14, scene 5.]
 -
 -[Footnote 31: The Rat-catcher was supposed to have the art of drawing rats
 -after him by his whistle, like a sort of Orpheus.]
 -
 -[Footnote 32: Walpurgis Night. May-night. Walpurgis is the female saint
 -who converted the Saxons to Christianity.--The Brocken or Blocksberg is
 -the highest peak of the Harz mountains, which comprise about 1350 square
 -miles.--Schirke and Elend are two villages in the neighborhood.]
 -
 -[Footnote 33: Shelley's translation of this couplet is very fine:
 -("_O si sic omnia!_")
 -
 -  "The giant-snouted crags, ho! ho!
 -  How they snort and how they blow!"]
 -
 -[Footnote 34: The original is _Windsbraut_, (wind's-bride,) the word used
 -in Luther's Bible to translate Paul's _Euroclydon_.]
 -
 -[Footnote 35: One of the names of the devil in Germany.]
 -
 -[Footnote 36: One of the names of Beelzebub.]
 -
 -[Footnote 37: "The Talmudists say that Adam had a wife called Lilis before
 -he married Eve, and of her he begat nothing but devils."
 -  _Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy_.
 -
 -A learned writer says that _Lullaby_ is derived from "Lilla, abi!" "Begone
 -Lilleth!" she having been supposed to lie in wait for children to kill
 -them.]
 -
 -[Footnote 38: This name, derived from two Greek words meaning _rump_ and
 -_fancy_, was meant for Nicolai of Berlin, a great hater of Goethe's
 -writings, and is explained by the fact that the man had for a long time a
 -violent affection of the nerves, and by the application he made of leeches
 -as a remedy, (alluded to by Mephistopheles.)]
 -
 -[Footnote 39: Tegel (mistranslated _pond_ by Shelley) is a small place a
 -few miles from Berlin, whose inhabitants were, in 1799, hoaxed by a ghost
 -story, of which the scene was laid in the former place.]
 -
 -[Footnote 40: The park in Vienna.]
 -
 -[Footnote 41: He was scene-painter to the Weimar theatre.]
 -
 -[Footnote 42: A poem of Schiller's, which gave great offence to the
 -religious people of his day.]
 -
 -[Footnote 43: A literal translation of _Maulen_, but a slang-term in
 -Yankee land.]
 -
 -[Footnote 44: Epigrams, published from time to time by Goethe and Schiller
 -jointly. Hennings (whose name heads the next quatrain) was editor of the
 -_Musaget_, (a title of Apollo, "leader of the muses,") and also of the
 -_Genius of the Age_. The other satirical allusions to classes of
 -notabilities will, without difficulty, be guessed out by the readers.]
 -
 -[Footnote 45: "_Doubt_ is the only rhyme for devil," in German.]
 -
 -[Footnote 46: The French translator, Stapfer, assigns as the probable
 -reason why this scene alone, of the whole drama, should have been left in
 -prose, "that it might not be said that Faust wanted any one of the
 -possible forms of style."]
 -
 -[Footnote 47: Literally the _raven-stone_.]
 -
 -[Footnote 48: The _blood-seat_, in allusion to the old German custom of
 -tying a woman, who was to be beheaded, into a wooden chair.]
 -
 -       *       *       *       *       *
 -
 -P. S. There is a passage on page 84, the speech of Faust, ending with the
 -lines:--
 -
 -  Show me the fruit that, ere it's plucked, will rot,
 -  And trees from which new green is daily peeping,
 -
 -which seems to have puzzled or misled so much, not only English
 -translators, but even German critics, that the present translator has
 -concluded, for once, to depart from his usual course, and play the
 -commentator, by giving his idea of Goethe's meaning, which is this: Faust
 -admits that the devil has all the different kinds of Sodom-apples which he
 -has just enumerated, gold that melts away in the hand, glory that vanishes
 -like a meteor, and pleasure that perishes in the possession. But all these
 -torments are too insipid for Faust's morbid and mad hankering after the
 -luxury of spiritual pain. Show me, he says, the fruit that rots _before_
 -one can pluck it, and [a still stronger expression of his diseased craving
 -for agony] trees that fade so quickly as to be every day just putting
 -forth new green, only to tantalize one with perpetual promise and
 -perpetual disappointment.
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -
 -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Faust, by Goethe
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