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 naively, 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:—

"Thaetig ihn preisenden, Liebe beweisenden, Bruederlich 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:

[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 Naturae." 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 Poenae. Aderat clauda haec, Ast erat ampla gradu. 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.

THE END