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 Thule, To whom, when near her grave, The mistress he loved so truly A golden goblet gave.

He cherished it as a lover, He drained it, every bout; His eyes with tears ran over, As oft as he drank thereout.

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 distingue! How glad I am to be suffered to stay.

Martha. What bring you, sir? I long to hear—

Mephistopheles. Would I'd a happier tale for your ear! I hope you'll forgive me this one for repeating: Your husband is dead and sends you a greeting.

Martha. Is dead? the faithful heart! Woe! Woe! My husband dead! I, too, shall go!

Margaret. Ah, dearest Dame, despair not thou!

Mephistopheles Then, hear the mournful story now!

Margaret. Ah, keep me free from love forever, I should never survive such a loss, no, never!

Mephistopheles. Joy and woe, woe and joy, must have each other.

Martha. Describe his closing hours to me!

Mephistopheles. In Padua lies our departed brother, 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. Ade!

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 horned owl sit moping? And why from dripping stone, damp moss, and rotten wood Here, like a toad, suck in thy food? Delicious pastime! Ah, I see, Somewhat of 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 favilla.

[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.]