 |
'Tis a strange gentleman, I see. Come in!
[MEPHISTOPHELES enters.]
MEPHISTOPHELES
I've ventur'd to intrude today. Ladies, excuse the liberty, I pray.
[He steps back respectfully before MARGARET.]
After dame Martha Schwerdtlein I inquire!
MARTHA
'Tis I. Pray what have you to say to me?
MEPHISTOPHELES (aside to her)
I know you now,—and therefore will retire; At present you've distinguished company. Pardon the freedom, Madam, with your leave, I will make free to call again at eve.
MARTHA (aloud)
Why, child, of all strange notions, he For some grand lady taketh thee!
MARGARET
I am, in truth, of humble blood— The gentleman is far too good— Nor gems nor trinkets are my own.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Oh 'tis not the mere ornaments alone; Her glance and mien far more betray. Rejoiced I am that I may stay.
MARTHA
Your business, Sir? I long to know—
MEPHISTOPHELES
Would I could happier tidings show! I trust mine errand you'll not let me rue; Your husband's dead, and greeteth you.
MARTHA
Is dead? True heart! Oh misery! My husband dead! Oh, I shall die!
MARGARET
Alas! good Martha! don't despair!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Now listen to the sad affair!
MARGARET
I for this cause should fear to love. The loss my certain death would prove.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Joy still must sorrow, sorrow joy attend.
MARTHA
Proceed, and tell the story of his end!
MEPHISTOPHELES
At Padua, in St. Anthony's, In holy ground his body lies; Quiet and cool his place of rest, With pious ceremonials blest.
MARTHA
And had you naught besides to bring?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Oh yes! one grave and solemn prayer; Let them for him three hundred masses sing! But in my pockets, I have nothing there.
MARTHA
No trinket! no love-token did he send! What every journeyman safe in his pouch will hoard There for remembrance fondly stored, And rather hungers, rather begs than spend!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Madam, in truth, it grieves me sore, But he his gold not lavishly hath spent. His failings too he deeply did repent, Ay! and his evil plight bewail'd still more.
MARGARET
Alas! That men should thus be doomed to woe! I for his soul will many a requiem pray.
MEPHISTOPHELES
A husband you deserve this very day; A child so worthy to be loved.
MARGARET
Ah no, That time hath not yet come for me.
MEPHISTOPHELES
If not a spouse, a gallant let it be. Among heaven's choicest gifts, I place, So sweet a darling to embrace.
MARGARET
Our land doth no such usage know.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Usage or not, it happens so.
MARTHA
Go on, I pray!
MEPHISTOPHELES
I stood by his bedside. Something less foul it was than dung; 'Twas straw half rotten; yet, he as a Christian died. And sorely hath remorse his conscience wrung. "Wretch that I was," quoth he, with parting breath, "So to forsake my business and my wife! Ah! the remembrance is my death. Could I but have her pardon in this life!"—
MARTHA (weeping)
Dear soul! I've long forgiven him, indeed!
MEPHISTOPHELES
"Though she, God knows, was more to blame than I."
MARTHA
He lied! What, on the brink of death to lie!
MEPHISTOPHELES
If I am skill'd the countenance to read, He doubtless fabled as he parted hence.— "No time had I to gape, or take my ease," he said, "First to get children, and then get them bread; And bread, too, in the very widest sense; Nor could I eat in peace even my proper share."
MARTHA
What, all my truth, my love forgotten quite? My weary drudgery by day and night!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Not so! He thought of you with tender care. Quoth he: "Heaven knows how fervently I prayed, For wife and children when from Malta bound;— The prayer hath heaven with favor crowned; We took a Turkish vessel which conveyed Rich store of treasure for the Sultan's court; Its own reward our gallant action brought; The captur'd prize was shared among the crew, And of the treasure I received my due."
MARTHA
How? Where? The treasure hath he buried, pray?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Where the four winds have blown it, who can say? In Naples as he stroll'd, a stranger there,— A comely maid took pity on my friend: And gave such tokens of her love and care, That he retained them to his blessed end.
MARTHA
Scoundrel! to rob his children of their bread! And all this misery, this bitter need, Could not his course of recklessness impede!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Well, he hath paid the forfeit, and is dead. Now were I in your place, my counsel hear; My weeds I'd wear for one chaste year, And for another lover meanwhile would look out.
MARTHA
Alas, I might search far and near, Not quickly should I find another like my first! There could not be a fonder fool than mine, Only he loved too well abroad to roam; Loved foreign women too, and foreign wine, And loved besides the dice accurs'd.
MEPHISTOPHELES
All had gone swimmingly, no doubt, Had he but given you at home, On his side, just as wide a range. Upon such terms, to you I swear, Myself with you would gladly rings exchange!
MARTHA
The gentleman is surely pleas'd to jest!
MEPHISTOPHELES (aside)
Now to be off in time, were best! She'd make the very devil marry her.
(To MARGARET)
How fares it with your heart?
MARGARET
How mean you, Sir?
MEPHISTOPHELES (aside)
The sweet young innocent!
(aloud)
Ladies, farewell!
MARGARET
Farewell!
MARTHA
But ere you leave us, quickly tell! I from a witness fain had heard, Where, how, and when my husband died and was interr'd. To forms I've always been attached indeed, His death I fain would in the journals read.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Ay, madam, what two witnesses declare Is held as valid everywhere; A gallant friend I have, not far from here, Who will for you before the judge appear. I'll bring him straight.
MARTHA
I pray you do!
MEPHISTOPHELES
And this young lady, we shall find her too? A noble youth, far traveled, he Shows to the sex all courtesy.
MARGARET
I in his presence needs must blush for shame.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Not in the presence of a crowned king!
MARTHA
The garden, then, behind my house, we'll name, There we'll await you both this evening.
A STREET
FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES
FAUST
How is it now? How speeds it? Is't in train?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Bravo! I find you all aflame! Gretchen full soon your own you'll name. This eve, at neighbor Martha's, her you'll meet again; The woman seems expressly made To drive the pimp and gipsy's trade.
FAUST
Good!
MEPHISTOPHELES
But from us she something would request.
FAUST
A favor claims return, as this world goes.
MEPHISTOPHELES
We have on oath but duly to attest That her dead husband's limbs, outstretch'd, repose In holy ground at Padua.
FAUST
Sage indeed! So I suppose we straight must journey there!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Sancta simplicitas! For that no need! Without much knowledge we have but to swear.
FAUST
If you have nothing better to suggest, Against your plan I must at once protest.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Oh, holy man! methinks I have you there! In all your life, say, have you ne'er False witness borne, until this hour? Have you of God, the world, and all it doth contain, Of man, and that which worketh in his heart and brain, Not definitions given, in words of weight and power, With front unblushing, and a dauntless breast? Yet, if into the depth of things you go, Touching these matters, it must be confess'd, As much as of Herr Schwerdtlein's death you know!
FAUST
Thou art and dost remain liar and sophist too.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Ay, if one did not take a somewhat deeper view! Tomorrow, in all honor, thou Poor Gretchen wilt befool, and vow Thy soul's deep love, in lover's fashion.
FAUST
And from my heart.
MEPHISTOPHELES
All good and fair! Then deathless constancy thou'lt swear; Speak of one all o'ermastering passion— Will that too issue from the heart?
FAUST
Forbear! When passion sways me, and I seek to frame Fit utterance for feeling, deep, intense, And for my frenzy finding no fit name, Sweep round the ample world with every sense, Grasp at the loftiest words to speak my flame, And call the glow, wherewith I burn, Quenchless, eternal, yea, eterne— Is that of sophistry a devilish play?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Yet am I right!
FAUST
Mark this, my friend, And spare my lungs; who would the right maintain, And hath a tongue wherewith his point to gain, Will gain it in the end. But come, of gossip I am weary quite; Because I've no resource, thou'rt in the right.
GARDEN
MARGARET on FAUST's arm. MARTHA with MEPHISTOPHELES walking up and down.
MARGARET
I feel it, you but spare my ignorance, The gentleman to blame me stoops thus low.
A traveler from complaisance Still makes the best of things; I know Too well, my humble prattle never can Have power to entertain so wise a man.
FAUST
One glance, one word from thee doth charm me more Than the world's wisdom or the sage's lore.
[He kisses her hand.]
MARGARET
Nay! trouble not yourself! A hand so coarse, So rude as mine, how can you kiss! What constant work at home must I not do perforce! My mother too exacting is.
[They pass on.]
MARTHA
Thus, sir, unceasing travel is your lot?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Traffic and duty urge us! With what pain Are we compelled to leave full many a spot, Where yet we dare not once remain!
MARTHA
In youth's wild years, with vigor crown'd, 'Tis not amiss thus through the world to sweep; But ah, the evil days come round! And to a lonely grave as bachelor to creep A pleasant thing has no one found.
MEPHISTOPHELES
The prospect fills me with dismay.
MARTHA
Therefore in time, dear sir, reflect, I pray.
[They pass on.]
MARGARET
Ay, out of sight is out of mind! Politeness easy is to you; Friends everywhere, and not a few, Wiser than I am, you will find.
FAUST
O dearest, trust me, what doth pass for sense Full oft is self-conceit and blindness!
MARGARET
How?
FAUST
Simplicity and holy innocence— When will ye learn your hallow'd worth to know! Ah, when will meekness and humility, Kind and all-bounteous nature's loftiest dower—
MARGARET
Only one little moment think of me! To think of you I shall have many an hour.
FAUST
You are perhaps much alone?
MARGARET
Yes, small our household is, I own, Yet must I see to it. No maid we keep, And I must cook, sew, knit, and sweep, Still early on my feet and late; My mother is in all things, great and small, So accurate! Not that for thrift there is such pressing need, Than others we might make more show indeed; My father left behind a small estate, A house and garden near the city-wall. But fairly quiet now my days, I own; As soldier is my brother gone; My little sister's dead; the babe to rear Occasion'd me some care and fond annoy; But I would go through all again with joy, The darling was to me so dear.
FAUST
An angel, sweet, if it resembled thee!
MARGARET
I reared it up, and it grew fond of me. After my father's death it saw the day; We gave my mother up for lost, she lay In such a wretched plight, and then at length So very slowly she regain'd her strength. Weak as she was, 'twas vain for her to try Herself to suckle the poor babe, so I Reared it on milk and water all alone; And thus the child became as 'twere my own; Within my arms it stretched itself and grew, And smiling, nestled in my bosom too.
FAUST
Doubtless the purest happiness was thine.
MARGARET
But many weary hours, in sooth, were also mine. At night its little cradle stood Close to my bed; so was I wide awake If it but stirred; One while I was obliged to give it food, Or to my arms the darling take; From bed full oft must rise, whene'er its cry I heard, And, dancing it, must pace the chamber to and fro; Stand at the wash-tub early; forthwith go To market, and then mind the cooking too— Tomorrow like today, the whole year through. Ah, sir, thus living, it must be confess'd One's spirits are not always of the best; Yet it a relish gives to food and rest.
[They pass on.]
MARTHA
Poor women! we are badly off, I own; A bachelor's conversion's hard, indeed!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Madam, with one like you it rests alone, To tutor me a better course to lead.
MARTHA
Speak frankly, sir, none is there you have met? Has your heart ne'er attach'd itself as yet?
MEPHISTOPHELES
One's own fire-side and a good wife are gold And pearls of price, so says the proverb old.
MARTHA
I mean, has passion never stirred your breast?
MEPHISTOPHELES
I've everywhere been well received, I own.
MARTHA
Yet hath your heart no earnest preference known?
MEPHISTOPHELES
With ladies one should ne'er presume to jest.
MARTHA
Ah! you mistake!
MEPHISTOPHELES
I'm sorry I'm so blind! But this I know—that you are very kind.
[They pass on.]
FAUST
Me, little angel, didst thou recognize, When in the garden first I came?
MARGARET
Did you not see it? I cast down my eyes.
FAUST
Thou dost forgive my boldness, dost not blame The liberty I took that day, When thou from church didst lately wend thy way?
MARGARET
I was confused. So had it never been; No one of me could any evil say. Alas, thought I, he doubtless in thy mien, Something unmaidenly or bold hath seen?
It seemed as if it struck him suddenly, Here's just a girl with whom one may make free! Yet I must own that then I scarcely knew What in your favor here began at once to plead; Yet I was angry with myself indeed That I more angry could not feel with you.
FAUST
Sweet love!
MARGARET
Just wait awhile! [She gathers a star-flower and plucks off the leaves one after another.]
FAUST
A nosegay may that be?
MARGARET
No! It is but a game.
FAUST
How?
MARGARET
Go, you'll laugh at me!
[She plucks off the leaves and murmurs to herself.]
FAUST
What murmurest thou?
MARGARET (half aloud)
He loves me—loves me not.
FAUST
Sweet angel, with thy face of heavenly bliss!
MARGARET (continues)
He loves me—not—he loves me—not— [plucking off the last leaf with fond joy.]
He loves me!
FAUST
Yes! And this flower-language, darling, let it be A heavenly oracle! He loveth thee! Know'st thou the meaning of, He loveth thee? [He seizes both her hands.]
MARGARET
I tremble so!
FAUST
Nay! do not tremble, love! Let this hand-pressure, let this glance reveal Feelings, all power of speech above; To give oneself up wholly and to feel A joy that must eternal prove! Eternal!—Yes, its end would be despair, No end!—It cannot end!
[MARGARET presses his hand, extricates herself, and runs away. He stands a moment in thought, and then follows her.]
MARTHA (approaching)
Night's closing.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Yes, we'll presently away.
MARTHA
I would entreat you longer yet to stay; But 'tis a wicked place, just here about; It is as if the folk had nothing else to do, Nothing to think of too, But gaping watch their neighbors, who goes in and out; And scandal's busy still, do whatsoe'er one may. And our young couple?
MEPHISTOPHELES
They have flown up there, The wanton butterflies!
MARTHA
He seems to take to her. And she to him. 'Tis of the world the way!
A SUMMER-HOUSE
[MARGARET runs in, hides behind the door, holds the tip of her finger to her lip, and peeps through the crevice.]
MARGARET
He comes!
FAUST
Ah, little rogue, so thou Think'st to provoke me! I have caught thee now!
[He kisses her.]
MARGARET (embracing him, and returning the kiss)
Dearest of men! I love thee from my heart!
[MEPHISTOPHELES knocks.]
FAUST (stamping)
Who's there?
MEPHISTOPHELES
A friend!
FAUST
A brute!
MEPHISTOPHELES
'Tis time to part.
MARTHA (comes)
Ay, it is late, good sir.
FAUST
Mayn't I attend you, then?
MARGARET
Oh no—my mother would—adieu, adieu!
FAUST
And must I really then take leave of you? Farewell!
MARTHA
Good-bye!
MARGARET
Ere long to meet again!
[Exeunt FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES.]
MARGARET
Good heavens! how all things far and near Must fill his mind—a man like this! Abash'd before him I appear, And say to all things only, yes. Poor simple child, I cannot see What 'tis that he can find in me.
[Exit.]
FOREST AND CAVERN
FAUST (alone)
Spirit sublime! Thou gav'st me, gav'st me all For which I prayed! Not vainly hast thou turn'd To me thy countenance in flaming fire: Gavest me glorious nature for my realm, And also power to feel her and enjoy; Not merely with a cold and wondering glance, Thou dost permit me in her depths profound, As in the bosom of a friend to gaze. Before me thou dost lead her living tribes, And dost in silent grove, in air and stream Teach me to know my kindred. And when roars The howling storm-blast through the groaning wood, Wrenching the giant pine, which in its fall Crashing sweeps down its neighbor trunks and boughs, While hollow thunder from the hill resounds: Then thou dost lead me to some shelter'd cave, Dost there reveal me to myself, and show Of my own bosom the mysterious depths. And when with soothing beam, the moon's pale orb Full in my view climbs up the pathless sky, From crag and dewy grove, the silvery forms Of by-gone ages hover, and assuage The joy austere of contemplative thought.
Oh, that naught perfect is assign'd to man, I feel, alas! With this exalted joy, Which lifts me near, and nearer to the gods, Thou gav'st me this companion, unto whom I needs must cling, though cold and insolent, He still degrades me to myself, and turns Thy glorious gifts to nothing, with a breath. He in my bosom with malicious zeal For that fair image fans a raging fire; From craving to enjoyment thus I reel, And in enjoyment languish for desire.
[MEPHISTOPHELES enters.]
MEPHISTOPHELES
Of this lone life have you not had your fill? How for so long can it have charms for you? 'Tis well enough to try it if you will; But then away again to something new!
FAUST
Would you could better occupy your leisure, Than in disturbing thus my hours of joy.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Well! Well! I'll leave you to yourself with pleasure, A serious tone you hardly dare employ. To part from one so crazy, harsh, and cross, Were not in truth a grievous loss. The live-long day, for you I toil and fret; Ne'er from his worship's face a hint I get, What pleases him, or what to let alone.
FAUST
Ay truly! that is just the proper tone! He wearies me, and would with thanks be paid!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Poor Son of Earth, without my aid, How would thy weary days have flown? Thee of thy foolish whims I've cured, Thy vain imaginations banished. And but for me, be well assured, Thou from this sphere must soon have vanished. In rocky hollows and in caverns drear, Why like an owl sit moping here? Wherefore from dripping stones and moss with ooze embued, Dost suck, like any toad, thy food? A rare, sweet pastime. Verily! The doctor cleaveth still to thee.
FAUST
Dost comprehend what bliss without alloy From this wild wand'ring in the desert springs?— Couldst thou but guess the new life-power it brings, Thou wouldst be fiend enough to envy me my joy.
MEPHISTOPHELES
What super-earthly ecstasy! at night, To lie in darkness on the dewy height, Embracing heaven and earth in rapture high, The soul dilating to a deity; With prescient yearnings pierce the core of earth, Feel in your laboring breast the six-days' birth, Enjoy, in proud delight what no one knows, While your love-rapture o'er creation flows— The earthly lost in beatific vision, And then the lofty intuition—
(with a gesture)
I need not tell you how—to close!
FAUST
Fie on you!
MEPHISTOPHELES
This displeases you? "For shame!" You are forsooth entitled to exclaim; We to chaste ears it seems must not pronounce What, nathless, the chaste heart cannot renounce. Well, to be brief, the joy as fit occasions rise, I grudge you not, of specious lies. But long this mood thou'lt not retain. Already thou'rt again outworn, And should this last, thou wilt be torn By frenzy or remorse and pain. Enough of this! Thy true love dwells apart, And all to her seems flat and tame; Alone thine image fills her heart, She loves thee with an all-devouring flame. First came thy passion with o'erpowering rush, Like mountain torrent, swollen by the melted snow; Full in her heart didst pour the sudden gush, Now has thy brooklet ceased to flow. Instead of sitting throned midst forests wild, It would become so great a lord To comfort the enamor'd child, And the young monkey for her love reward. To her the hours seem miserably long; She from the window sees the clouds float by As o'er the lofty city-walls they fly. "If I a birdie were!" so runs her song, Half through the night and all day long. Cheerful sometimes, more oft at heart full sore; Fairly outwept seem now her tears, Anon she tranquil is, or so appears, And love-sick evermore.
FAUST
Snake! Serpent vile!
MEPHISTOPHELES (aside)
Good! If I catch thee with my guile!
FAUST
Vile reprobate! go get thee hence; Forbear the lovely girl to name! Nor in my half-distracted sense Kindle anew the smouldering flame!
MEPHISTOPHELES
What wouldest thou! She thinks you've taken flight; It seems, she's partly in the right.
FAUST
I'm near her still—and should I distant rove, Her I can ne'er forget, ne'er lose her love; And all things touch'd by those sweet lips of hers, Even the very Host, my envy stirs.
MEPHISTOPHELES
'Tis well! I oft have envied you indeed, The twin-pair that among the roses feed.
FAUST
Pander, avaunt!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Go to! I laugh, the while you rail; The power which fashion'd youth and maid Well understood the noble trade; So neither shall occasion fail. But hence!—A mighty grief I trow! Unto thy lov'd one's chamber thou And not to death shouldst go.
FAUST
What is to me heaven's joy within her arms? What though my life her bosom warms!— Do I not ever feel her woe? The outcast am I not, unhoused, unblest, Inhuman monster, without aim or rest, Who, like the greedy surge, from rock to rock, Sweeps down the dread abyss with desperate shock? While she, within her lowly cot, which graced The Alpine slope, beside the waters wild, Her homely cares in that small world embraced, Secluded lived, a simple artless child. Was't not enough, in thy delirious whirl To blast the stedfast rocks! Her, and her peace as well, Must I, God-hated one, to ruin hurl! Dost claim this holocaust, remorseless Hell! Fiend, help me to cut short the hours of dread! Let what must happen, happen speedily! Her direful doom fall crushing on my head, And into ruin let her plunge with me!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Why how again it seethes and glows! Away, thou fool! Her torment ease! When such a head no issue sees, It pictures straight the final close. Long life to him who boldly dares! A devil's pluck thou'rt wont to show; As for a devil who despairs— Nothing I find so mawkish here below.
MARGARET'S ROOM
MARGARET (alone at her spinning wheel)
My peace is gone, My heart is sore, I find it never, And nevermore!
Where him I have not, Is the grave; and all The world to me Is turned to gall.
My wilder'd brain Is overwrought; My feeble senses Are distraught.
My peace is gone, My heart is sore, I find it never, And nevermore!
For him from the window I gaze, at home; For him and him only Abroad I roam. His lofty step, His bearing high, The smile of his lip, The power of his eye,
His witching words, Their tones of bliss, His hand's fond pressure, And ah—his kiss!
My peace is gone, My heart is sore, I find it never, And nevermore.
My bosom aches To feel him near; Ah, could I clasp And fold him here!
Kiss him and kiss him Again would I, And on his kisses I fain would die.
MARTHA'S GARDEN
MARGARET and FAUST
MARGARET
Promise me, Henry!
FAUST
What I can!
MARGARET
How thy religion fares, I fain would hear. Thou art a good kind-hearted man, Only that way not well-disposed, I fear.
FAUST
Forbear, my child! Thou feelest thee I love; My heart, my blood I'd give, my love to prove, And none would of their faith or church bereave.
MARGARET
That's not enough, we must ourselves believe!
FAUST
Must we?
MARGARET
Ah, could I but thy soul inspire! Thou honorest not the sacraments, alas!
FAUST
I honor them.
MARGARET
But yet without desire; 'Tis long since thou hast been either to shrift or mass. Dost thou believe in God?
FAUST
My darling, who dares say? Yes, I in God believe. Question or priest or sage, and they Seem, in the answer you receive, To mock the questioner.
MARGARET
Then thou dost not believe?
FAUST
Sweet one! my meaning do not misconceive! Him who dare name, And who proclaim— Him I believe? Who that can feel, His heart can steel, To say: I believe him not? The All-embracer, All-sustainer, Holds and sustains he not Thee, me, himself? Lifts not the Heaven its dome above? Doth not the firm-set earth beneath us lie? And, beaming tenderly with looks of love, Climb not the everlasting stars on high? Do we not gaze into each other's eyes? Nature's impenetrable agencies, Are they not thronging on thy heart and brain, Viewless, or visible to mortal ken, Around thee weaving their mysterious chain? Fill thence thy heart, how large soe'er it be; And in the feeling when thou utterly art blest, Then call it, what thou wilt— Call it Bliss! Heart! Love! God! I have no name for it! 'Tis feeling all; Name is but sound and smoke Shrouding the glow of heaven.
MARGARET
All this is doubtless good and fair; Almost the same the parson says, Only in slightly different phrase.
FAUST
Beneath Heaven's sunshine, everywhere, This is the utterance of the human heart; Each in his language doth the like impart; Then why not I in mine?
MARGARET
What thus I hear Sounds plausible, yet I'm not reconciled; There's something wrong about it; much I fear That thou art not a Christian.
FAUST
My sweet child!
MARGARET
Alas! it long hath sorely troubled me, To see thee in such odious company.
FAUST
How so?
MARGARET
The man who comes with thee, I hate, Yea, in my spirit's inmost depths abhor; As his loath'd visage, in my life before, Naught to my heart e'er gave a pang so great.
FAUST
Him fear not, my sweet love!
MARGARET
His presence chills my blood. Toward all beside I have a kindly mood; Yet, though I yearn to gaze on thee, I feel At sight of him strange horror o'er me steal; That he's a villain my conviction's strong. May Heaven forgive me, if I do him wrong!
FAUST
Yet such strange fellows in the world must be!
MARGARET
I would not live with such an one as he. If for a moment he but enter here, He looks around him with a mocking sneer, And malice ill-conceal'd; That he with naught on earth can sympathize is clear; Upon his brow 'tis legibly revealed That to his heart no living soul is dear. So blest I feel, within thine arms, So warm and happy—free from all alarms; And still my heart doth close when he comes near.
FAUST
Foreboding angel! check thy fear!
MARGARET
It so o'ermasters me that when, Or wheresoe'er, his step I hear, I almost think, no more I love thee then. Besides, when he is near, I ne'er could pray. This eats into my heart; with thee The same, my Henry, it must be.
FAUST
This is antipathy!
MARGARET
I must away.
FAUST
For one brief hour then may I never rest, And heart to heart, and soul to soul be pressed?
MARGARET
Ah, if I slept alone! Tonight The bolt I fain would leave undrawn for thee; But then my mother's sleep is light, Were we surprised by her, ah me! Upon the spot I should be dead.
FAUST
Dear angel! there's no cause for dread. Here is a little phial—if she take Mixed in her drink three drops, 'twill steep Her nature in a deep and soothing sleep.
MARGARET
What do I not for thy dear sake! To her it will not harmful prove?
FAUST
Should I advise it else, sweet love?
MARGARET
I know not, dearest, when thy face I see, What doth my spirit to thy will constrain; Already I have done so much for thee, That scarcely more to do doth now remain. [Exit.]
(MEPHISTOPHELES enters)
MEPHISTOPHELES
The monkey! Is she gone?
FAUST
Again hast played the spy?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Of all that pass'd I'm well apprized, I heard the doctor catechized, And trust he'll profit much thereby! Fain would the girls inquire indeed Touching their lover's faith and creed, And whether pious in the good old way; They think, if pliant there, us too he will obey.
FAUST
Thou monster, dost not see that this Pure soul, possessed by ardent love, Full of the living faith, To her of bliss The only pledge, must holy anguish prove, Holding the man she loves fore-doomed to endless death!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Most sensual, supersensualist! The while A damsel leads thee by the nose!
FAUST
Of filth and fire abortion vile!
MEPHISTOPHELES
In physiognomy strange skill she shows; She in my presence feels she knows not how; My mask it seems a hidden sense reveals; That I'm a genius she must needs allow, That I'm the very devil perhaps she feels. So then tonight—
FAUST
What's that to you?
MEPHISTOPHELES
I've my amusement in it too!
AT THE WELL
MARGARET and BESSY, with pitchers
BESSY
Of Barbara hast nothing heard?
MARGARET
I rarely go from home—no, not a word.
BESSY
'Tis true: Sybilla told me so today! That comes of being proud, methinks; She played the fool at last.
MARGARET
How so?
BESSY
They say That two she feedeth when she eats and drinks.
MARGARET
Alas!
BESSY
She's rightly served, in sooth. How long she hung upon the youth! What promenades, what jaunts there were To dancing booth and village fair! The first she everywhere must shine, He always treating her to pastry and to wine. Of her good looks she was so vain, So shameless too, that to retain His presents, she did not disdain; Sweet words and kisses came anon— And then the virgin flower was gone.
MARGARET
Poor thing!
BESSY
Forsooth dost pity her? At night, when at our wheels we sat, Abroad our mothers ne'er would let us stir. Then with her lover she must chat, Or on the bench, or in the dusky walk, Thinking the hours too brief for their sweet talk; Her proud head she will have to bow, And in white sheet do penance now!
MARGARET
But he will surely marry her?
BESSY
Not he! He won't be such a fool! a gallant lad Like him can roam o'er land and sea; Besides, he's off.
MARGARET
That is not fair!
BESSY
If she should get him, 'twere almost as bad! Her myrtle wreath the boys would tear; And then we girls would plague her too, For we chopp'd straw before her door would strew!
[Exit.]
MARGARET (walking toward home)
How stoutly once I could inveigh, If a poor maiden went astray; Not words enough my tongue could find, 'Gainst others' sin to speak my mind! Black as it seemed, I blacken'd it still more, And strove to make it blacker than before. And did myself securely bless— Now my own trespass doth appear! Yet ah!—what urg'd me to transgress, God knows, it was so sweet, so dear!
ZWINGER
Inclosure between the City-wall and the Gate. (In the niche of the wall a devotional image of the Mater dolorosa, with flower-pots before it.)
MARGARET (putting fresh flowers in the pots)
Ah, rich in sorrow, thou, Stoop thy maternal brow, And mark with pitying eye my misery! The sword in thy pierced heart, Thou dost with bitter smart Gaze upwards on thy Son's death agony. To the dear God on high Ascends thy piteous sigh, Pleading for his and thy sore misery.
Ah, who can know The torturing woe, The pangs that rack me to the bone? How my poor heart, without relief, Trembles and throbs, its yearning grief Thou knowest, thou alone!
Ah, wheresoe'er I go, With woe, with woe, with woe, My anguish'd breast is aching! When all alone I creep, I weep, I weep, I weep, Alas! my heart is breaking!
The flower-pots at my window Were wet with tears of mine, The while I pluck'd these blossoms At dawn to deck thy shrine!
When early in my chamber Shone bright the rising morn, I sat there on my pallet, My heart with anguish torn.
Help! from disgrace and death deliver me! Ah! rich in sorrow, thou, Stoop thy maternal brow, And mark with pitying eye my misery!
NIGHT. STREET BEFORE MARGARET'S DOOR
VALENTINE (a soldier, MARGARET's brother)
When seated 'mong the jovial crowd, Where merry comrades boasting loud Each named with pride his favorite lass, And in her honor drain'd his glass; Upon my elbows I would lean, With easy quiet view the scene, Nor give my tongue the rein, until Each swaggering blade had talked his fill. Then smiling I my beard would stroke, The while, with brimming glass, I spoke; "Each to his taste!—but to my mind, Where in the country will you find, A maid, as my dear Gretchen fair, Who with my sister can compare?" Cling! clang! so rang the jovial sound! Shouts of assent went circling round; Pride of her sex is she!—cried some; Then were the noisy boasters dumb.
And now!—I could tear out my hair, Or dash my brains out in despair!— Me every scurvy knave may twit, With stinging jest and taunting sneer! Like skulking debtor I must sit, And sweat each casual word to hear! And though I smash'd them one and all,— Yet them I could not liars call. Who comes this way? who's sneaking here? If I mistake not, two draw near. If he be one, have at him;—well I wot Alive he shall not leave this spot!
FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES
FAUST
How far from yon sacristy, athwart the night, Its beams the ever-burning taper throws, While ever waning, fades the glimmering light, As gathering darkness doth around it close! So night like gloom doth in my bosom reign.
MEPHISTOPHELES
I'm like a tom-cat in a thievish vein That up fire-ladders tall and steep And round the walls doth slyly creep; Virtuous withal I feel, with, I confess. A touch of thievish joy and wantonness. Thus through my limbs already burns The glorious Walpurgis night! After tomorrow it returns; Then why one wakes, one knows aright!
FAUST
Meanwhile, the treasure I see glimmering there. Will it ascend into the open air?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Ere long thou wilt proceed with pleasure To raise the casket with its treasure; I took a peep, therein are stored Of lion-dollars a rich hoard.
FAUST
And not a trinket? not a ring? Wherewith my lovely girl to deck?
MEPHISTOPHELES
I saw among them some such thing, A string of pearls to grace her neck.
FAUST
'Tis well! I'm always loath to go, Without some gift my love to show.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Some pleasures gratis to enjoy Should surely cause you no annoy. While bright with stars the heavens appear, I'll sing a masterpiece of art: A moral song shall charm her ear, More surely to beguile her heart.
(Sings to the guitar.)
Kathrina, say, Why lingering stay At dawn of day Before your lover's door? Maiden, beware, Nor enter there, Lest forth you fare, A maiden never more.
Maiden take heed! Reck well my rede! Is't done, the deed? Good night, you poor, poor thing! The spoiler's lies, His arts despise, Nor yield your prize, Without the marriage ring!
VALENTINE (steps forward)
Whom are you luring here? I'll give it you! Accursed rat-catchers, your strains I'll end! First, to the devil the guitar I'll send! Then to the devil with the singer too!
MEPHISTOPHELES
The poor guitar! 'tis done for now.
VALENTINE
Your skull shall follow next, I trow!
MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST)
Doctor, stand fast! your strength collect! Be prompt, and do as I direct. Out with your whisk! keep close, I pray, I'll parry! do you thrust away!
VALENTINE
Then parry that!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Why not?
VALENTINE
That too!
MEPHISTOPHELES
With ease!
VALENTINE
The devil fights for you! Why how is this? my hand's already lamed!
MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST)
Thrust home!
VALENTINE (falls)
Alas!
MEPHISTOPHELES
There! Now the lubber's tamed! But quick, away! We must at once take wing; A cry of murder strikes upon the ear; With the police I know my course to steer, But with the blood-ban 'tis another thing.
MARTHA (at the window)
Without! without!
MARGARET (at the window)
Quick, bring a light!
MARTHA (as above)
They rail and scuffle, scream and fight!
PEOPLE
One lieth here already dead!
MARTHA (coming out)
Where are the murderers? are they fled?
MARGARET (coming out)
Who lieth here?
PEOPLE
Thy mother's son.
MARGARET
Almighty God! I am undone!
VALENTINE
I'm dying—'tis a soon-told tale, And sooner done the deed. Why, women, do ye howl and wail? To my last words give heed!
[All gather round him.]
My Gretchen, see! still young art thou, Art not discreet enough, I trow, Thou dost thy matters ill; Let this in confidence be said: Since thou the path of shame dost tread, Tread it with right good will!
MARGARET
My brother! God! what can this mean?
VALENTINE
Abstain, Nor dare God's holy name profane! What's done, alas, is done and past! Matters will take their course at last; By stealth thou dost begin with one, Others will follow him anon; And when a dozen thee have known, Thou'lt common be to all the town. When infamy is newly born, In secret she is brought to light, And the mysterious veil of night O'er head and ears is drawn; The loathsome birth men fain would slay; But soon, full grown, she waxes bold, And though not fairer to behold, With brazen front insults the day: The more abhorrent to the sight, The more she courts the day's pure light, The time already I discern, When thee all honest folk will spurn, And shun thy hated form to meet, As when a corpse infects the street. Thy heart will sink in blank despair, When they shall look thee in the face! A golden chain no more thou'lt wear! Nor near the altar take in church thy place! In fair lace collar simply dight Thou'lt dance no more with spirits light! In darksome corners thou wilt bide, Where beggars vile and cripples hide, And e'en though God thy crime forgive, On earth, a thing accursed, thou'lt live!
MARTHA
Your parting soul to God commend! Your dying breath in slander will you spend?
VALENTINE
Could I but reach thy wither'd frame, Thou wretched beldame, void of shame! Full measure I might hope to win Of pardon then for every sin.
MARGARET
Brother! what agonizing pain!
VALENTINE
I tell thee, from vain tears abstain! 'Twas thy dishonor pierced my heart, Thy fall the fatal death-stab gave. Through the death-sleep I now depart To God, a soldier true and brave.
[Dies.]
CATHEDRAL
Service, Organ, and Anthem.
MARGARET amongst a number of people
EVIL-SPIRIT behind MARGARET
EVIL-SPIRIT
How different, Gretchen, was it once with thee, When thou, still full of innocence, Here to the altar camest, And from the small and well-con'd book Didst lisp thy prayer, Half childish sport, Half God in thy young heart! Gretchen! What thoughts are thine? What deed of shame Lurks in thy sinful heart? Is thy prayer utter'd for thy mother's soul, Who into long, long torment slept through thee? Whose blood is on thy threshold?— And stirs there not already 'neath thy heart Another quick'ning pulse, that even now Tortures itself and thee With its foreboding presence?
MARGARET
Woe! Woe! Oh, could I free me from the thoughts That hither, thither, crowd upon my brain, Against my will!
CHORUS
Dies irae, dies illa, Solvet saeclum in favilla.
[The organ sounds.]
EVIL-SPIRIT
Grim horror seizes thee! The trumpet sounds! The graves are shaken! And thy heart From ashy rest For torturing flames Anew created, Trembles into life!
MARGARET
Would I were hence! It is as if the organ Choked my breath, As if the choir Melted my inmost heart!
CHORUS
Judex ergo cum sedebit, Quidquid latet adparebit, Nil inultum remanebit.
MARGARET
I feel oppressed! The pillars of the wall Imprison me! The vaulted roof Weighs down upon me!—air!
EVIL-SPIRIT
Wouldst hide thee? sin and shame Remain not hidden! Air! light! Woe's thee!
CHORUS
Quid sum miser tunc dicturus? Quem patronum rogaturus! Cum vix justus sit securus.
EVIL-SPIRIT
The glorified their faces turn Away from thee! Shudder the pure to reach Their hands to thee! Woe!
CHORUS
Quid sum miser tunc dicturus—
MARGARET
Neighbor! your smelling bottle!
[She swoons away.]
WALPURGIS-NIGHT
THE HARTZ MOUNTAINS. DISTRICT OF SCHIERKE AND ELEND
FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES
MEPHISTOPHELES
A broomstick dost thou not at least desire? The roughest he-goat fain would I bestride, By this road from our goal we're still far wide.
FAUST
While fresh upon my legs, so long I naught require, Except this knotty staff. Beside, What boots it to abridge a pleasant way? Along the labyrinth of these vales to creep, Then scale these rocks, whence, in eternal spray, Adown the cliffs the silvery fountains leap: Such is the joy that seasons paths like these! Spring weaves already in the birchen trees; E'en the late pine-grove feels her quickening powers; Should she not work within these limbs of ours?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Naught of this genial influence do I know! Within me all is wintry. Frost and snow I should prefer my dismal path to bound. How sadly, yonder, with belated glow Rises the ruddy moon's imperfect round, Shedding so faint a light, at every tread One's sure to stumble 'gainst a rock or tree! An Ignis Fatuus I must call instead. Yonder one burning merrily, I see. Holla! my friend! may I request your light? Why should you flare away so uselessly? Be kind enough to show us up the height!
IGNIS FATUUS
Through reverence, I hope I may subdue The lightness of my nature; true, Our course is but a zigzag one.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Ho! ho! So men, forsooth, he thinks to imitate! Now, in the devil's name, for once go straight! Or out at once your flickering life I'll blow.
IGNIS FATUUS
That you are master here is obvious quite; To do your will, I'll cordially essay; Only reflect! The hill is magic-mad tonight; And if to show the path you choose a meteor's light, You must not wonder should we go astray.
FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, IGNIS FATUUS (in alternate song)
Through the dream and magic-sphere, As it seems, we now are speeding; Honor win, us rightly leading, That betimes we may appear In yon wide and desert region!
Trees on trees, a stalwart legion, Swiftly past us are retreating, And the cliffs with lowly greeting; Rocks long-snouted, row on row, How they snort, and how they blow!
Through the stones and heather springing, Brook and brooklet haste below; Hark the rustling! Hark the singing! Hearken to love's plaintive lays; Voices of those heavenly days— What we hope, and what we love! Like a tale of olden time, Echo's voice prolongs the chime. To-whit! To-who! It sounds more near; Plover, owl, and jay appear, All awake, around, above? Paunchy salamanders too Peer, long-limbed, the bushes through! And, like snakes, the roots of trees Coil themselves from rock and sand, Stretching many a wondrous band, Us to frighten, us to seize; From rude knots with life embued, Polyp-fangs abroad they spread, To snare the wanderer! 'Neath our tread, Mice, in myriads, thousand-hued, Through the heath and through the moss! And the fire-flies' glittering throng, Wildering escort, whirls along, Here and there, our path across.
Tell me, stand we motionless, Or still forward do we press? All things round us whirl and fly, Rocks and trees make strange grimaces, Dazzling meteors change their places— How they puff and multiply!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Now grasp my doublet—we at last A central peak have reached, which shows, If round a wondering glance we cast, How in the mountain Mammon glows.
FAUST
How through the chasms strangely gleams, A lurid light, like dawn's red glow, Pervading with its quivering beams, The gorges of the gulf below! Here vapors rise, there clouds float by, Here through the mist the light doth shine; Now, like a fount, it bursts on high, Meanders now, a slender line; Far reaching, with a hundred veins, Here through the valley see it glide; Here, where its force the gorge restrains, At once it scatters, far and wide; Anear, like showers of golden sand Strewn broadcast, sputter sparks of light: And mark yon rocky walls that stand Ablaze, in all their towering height!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Doth not Sir Mammon for this fete Grandly illume his palace! Thou Art lucky to have seen it; now, The boisterous guests, I feel, are coming straight.
FAUST
How through the air the storm doth whirl! Upon my neck it strikes with sudden shock.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Cling to these ancient ribs of granite rock, Else to yon depths profound it you will hurl. A murky vapor thickens night. Hark! Through the woods the tempests roar! The owlets flit in wild affright. Hark! Splinter'd are the columns that upbore The leafy palace, green for aye: The shivered branches whirr and sigh, Yawn the huge trunks with mighty groan, The roots, upriven, creak and moan! In fearful and entangled fall, One crashing ruin whelms them all, While through the desolate abyss, Sweeping the wreck-strewn precipice, The raging storm-blasts howl and hiss! Aloft strange voices dost thou hear? Distant now and now more near? Hark! the mountain ridge along, Streameth a raving magic-song!
WITCHES (in chorus)
Now to the Brocken the witches hie, The stubble is yellow, the corn is green; Thither the gathering legions fly, And sitting aloft is Sir Urian seen: O'er stick and o'er stone they go whirling along, Witches and he-goats, a motley throng.
VOICES
Alone old Baubo's coming now; She rides upon a farrow sow.
CHORUS
Honor to her, to whom honor is due! Forward, Dame Baubo! Honor to you! A goodly sow and mother thereon, The whole witch chorus follows anon.
VOICE
Which way didst come?
VOICE
O'er Ilsenstein! There I peep'd in an owlet's nest. With her broad eye she gazed in mine!
VOICE
Drive to the devil, thou hellish pest! Why ride so hard?
VOICE
She has graz'd my side, Look at the wounds, how deep and how wide!
WITCHES (in chorus)
The way is broad, the way is long; What mad pursuit! What tumult wild! Scratches the besom and sticks the prong; Crush'd is the mother, and stifled the child.
WIZARDS (half chorus)
Like house-encumber'd snail we creep; While far ahead the women keep, For when to the devil's house we speed, By a thousand steps they take the lead.
THE OTHER HALF
Not so, precisely do we view it; They with a thousand steps may do it; But let them hasten as they can, With one long bound 'tis clear'd by man.
VOICES (above)
Come with us, come with us from Felsensee.
VOICES (from below)
Aloft to you we would mount with glee! We wash, and free from all stain are we, Yet barren evermore must be!
BOTH CHORUSES
The wind is hushed, the stars grow pale, The pensive moon her light doth veil; And whirling on, the magic choir Sputters forth sparks of drizzling fire.
VOICE (from below)
Stay! stay!
VOICE (from above)
What voice of woe Calls from the cavern'd depths below?
VOICE (from below)
Take me with you! Oh take me too! Three centuries I climb in vain, And yet can ne'er the summit gain! To be with my kindred I am fain.
BOTH CHORUSES
Broom and pitch-fork, goat and prong, Mounted on these we whirl along; Who vainly strives to climb tonight, Is evermore a luckless wight!
DEMI-WITCH (below)
I hobble after, many a day; Already the others are far away! No rest at home can I obtain— Here too my efforts are in vain!
CHORUS OF WITCHES
Salve gives the witches strength to rise; A rag for a sail does well enough; A goodly ship is every trough; Tonight who flies not, never flies.
BOTH CHORUSES
And when the topmost peak we round, Then alight ye on the ground; The heath's wide regions cover ye With your mad swarms of witchery!
[They let themselves down.]
MEPHISTOPHELES
They crowd and jostle, whirl and flutter! They whisper, babble, twirl, and splutter! They glimmer, sparkle, stink and flare— A true witch-element! Beware! Stick close! else we shall severed be. Where art thou?
FAUST (in the distance)
Here!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Already, whirl'd so far away! The master then indeed I needs must play. Give ground! Squire Voland comes! Sweet folk, give ground! Here, doctor, grasp me! With a single bound Let us escape this ceaseless jar; Even for me too mad these people are. Hard by there shineth something with peculiar glare, Yon brake allureth me; it is not far; Come, come along with me! we'll slip in there.
FAUST
Spirit of contradiction! Lead! I'll follow straight! 'Twas wisely done, however, to repair On May-night to the Brocken, and when there, By our own choice ourselves to isolate!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Mark, of those flames the motley glare! A merry club assembles there. In a small circle one is not alone.
FAUST
I'd rather be above, though, I must own! Already fire and eddying smoke I view; The impetuous millions to the devil ride; Full many a riddle will be there untied.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Ay! and full many a riddle tied anew. But let the great world rave and riot! Here will we house ourselves in quiet. A custom 'tis of ancient date, Our lesser worlds within the great world to create! Young witches there I see, naked and bare, And old ones, veil'd more prudently. For my sake only courteous be! The trouble small, the sport is rare. Of instruments I hear the cursed din— One must get used to it. Come in! come in! There's now no help for it. I'll step before, And introducing you as my good friend, Confer on you one obligation more. How say you now? 'Tis no such paltry room; Why only look, you scarce can see the end. A hundred fires in rows disperse the gloom; They dance, they talk, they cook, make love, and drink: Where could we find aught better, do you think?
FAUST
To introduce us, do you purpose here As devil or as wizard to appear?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Though I am wont indeed to strict incognito, Yet upon gala-days one must one's orders show. No garter have I to distinguish me, Nathless the cloven foot doth here give dignity. Seest thou yonder snail? Crawling this way she hies; With searching feelers, she, no doubt, Hath me already scented out; Here, even if I would, for me there's no disguise. From fire to fire, we'll saunter at our leisure, The gallant you, I'll cater for your pleasure.
(To a party seated round, some expiring embers)
Old gentleman, apart, why sit ye moping here? Ye in the midst should be of all this jovial cheer, Girt round with noise and youthful riot; At home one surely has enough of quiet.
GENERAL
In nations put his trust, who may, Whate'er for them one may have done; For with the people, as with women, they Honor your rising stars alone!
MINISTER
Now all too far they wander from the right; I praise the good old ways, to them I hold, Then was the genuine age of gold, When we ourselves were foremost in men's sight.
PARVENU
Ne'er were we 'mong your dullards found, And what we ought not, that to do were fair; Yet now are all things turning round and round, When on firm basis we would them maintain.
AUTHOR
Who, as a rule, a treatise now would care To read, of even moderate sense? As for the rising generation, ne'er Has youth displayed such arrogant pretense.
MEPHISTOPHELES (suddenly appearing very old)
Since for the last time I the Brocken scale, That folk are ripe for doomsday, now one sees; And just because my cask begins to fail, So the whole world is also on the lees.
HUCKSTER-WITCH
Stop, gentlemen, nor pass me by, Of wares I have a choice collection: Pray honor them with your inspection. Lose not this opportunity! Yet nothing in my booth you'll find Without its counterpart on earth; there's naught, Which to the world, and to mankind, Hath not some direful mischief wrought. No dagger here, which hath not flow'd with blood, No chalice, whence, into some healthy frame Hath not been poured hot poison's wasting flood. No trinket, but hath wrought some woman's shame, No weapon but hath cut some sacred tie, Or from behind hath stabb'd an enemy.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Gossip! For wares like these the time's gone by, What's done is past! what's past is done! With novelties your booth supply; Us novelties attract alone.
FAUST
May this wild scene my senses spare! This, may in truth be called a fair!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Upward the eddying concourse throng; Thinking to push, thyself art push'd along.
FAUST
Who's that, pray?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Mark her well! That's Lilith.
FAUST
Who?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Adam's first wife. Of her rich locks beware! That charm in which she's parallel'd by few, When in its toils a youth she doth ensnare He will not soon escape, I promise you.
FAUST
There sit a pair, the old one with the young; Already they have bravely danced and sprung!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Here there is no repose today. Another dance begins; we'll join it, come away!
FAUST (dancing with the young one)
Once a fair vision came to me; Therein I saw an apple-tree, Two beauteous apples charmed mine eyes; I climb'd forthwith to reach the prize.
THE FAIR ONE
Apples still fondly ye desire, From paradise it hath been so. Feelings of joy my breast inspire That such too in my garden grow.
MEPHISTOPHELES (with the old one)
Once a weird vision came to me; Therein I saw a rifted tree. It had a.....; But as it was it pleased me too.
THE OLD ONE
I beg most humbly to salute The gallant with the cloven foot! Let him ... have ready here, If he a ... does not fear.
PROCTOPHANTASMIST
Accursed mob! How dare ye thus to meet? Have I not shown and demonstrated too, That ghosts stand not on ordinary feet? Yet here ye dance, as other mortals do!
THE FAIR ONE (dancing)
Then at our ball, what doth he here?
FAUST (dancing)
Oh! He must everywhere appear. He must adjudge, when others dance; If on each step his say's not said, So is that step as good as never made. He's most annoyed, so soon as we advance; If ye would circle in one narrow round. As he in his old mill, then doubtless he Your dancing would approve,—especially If ye forthwith salute him with respect profound!
PROCTOPHANTASMIST
Still here! what arrogance! unheard of quite! Vanish; we now have fill'd the world with light! Laws are unheeded by the devil's host; Wise as we are, yet Tegel hath its ghost! How long at this conceit I've swept with all my might, Lost is the labor: 'tis unheard of quite!
THE FAIR ONE
Cease here to tease us any more, I pray.
PROCTOPHANTASMIST
Spirits, I plainly to your face declare: No spiritual control myself will bear, Since my own spirit can exert no sway.
[The dancing continues.]
Tonight, I see, I shall in naught succeed; But I'm prepar'd my travels to pursue, And hope, before my final step indeed, To triumph over bards and devils too.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Now in some puddle will he take his station, Such is his mode of seeking consolation; Where leeches, feasting on his rump, will drain Spirits alike and spirit from his brain.
(To FAUST, who has left the dance)
But why the charming damsel leave, I pray, Who to you in the dance so sweetly sang?
FAUST
Ah! in the very middle of her lay, Out of her mouth a small red mouse there sprang.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Suppose there did! One must not be too nice. 'Twas well it was not gray, let that suffice. Who 'mid his pleasures for a trifle cares?
FAUST
Then saw I—
MEPHISTOPHELES
What?
FAUST
Mephisto, seest thou there Standing far off, a lone child, pale and fair! Slow from the spot her drooping form she tears, And seems with shackled feet to move along; I own, within me the delusion's strong, That she the likeness of my Gretchen wears.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Gaze not upon her! 'Tis not good! Forbear! 'Tis lifeless, magical, a shape of air, An idol. Such to meet with, bodes no good; That rigid look of hers doth freeze man's blood, And well-nigh petrifies his heart to stone:— The story of Medusa thou hast known.
FAUST
Ay, verily! a corpse's eyes are those, Which there was no fond loving hand to close. That is the bosom I so fondly press'd, That my sweet Gretchen's form, so oft caress'd!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Deluded fool! 'Tis magic, I declare! To each she doth his lov'd one's image wear.
FAUST
What bliss! what torture! vainly I essay To turn me from that piteous look away. How strangely doth a single crimson line Around that lovely neck its coil entwine, It shows no broader than a knife's blunt edge!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Quite right. I see it also, and allege That she beneath her arm her head can bear, Since Perseus cut it off.—But you I swear Are craving for illusions still! Come then, ascend yon little hill! As on the Prater all is gay, And if my senses are not gone, I see a theatre,—what's going on?
SERVIBILIS
They are about to recommence;—the play, Will be the last of seven, and spick-span new— 'Tis usual here that number to present. A dilettante did the piece invent, And dilettanti will enact it too. Excuse me, gentlemen; to me's assign'd, As dilettante to uplift the curtain.
MEPHISTOPHELES
You on the Blocksberg I'm rejoiced to find, That 'tis your most appropriate sphere is certain.
WALPURGIS-NIGHT'S DREAM; OR, OBERON AND TITANIA'S GOLDEN WEDDING-FEAST
INTERMEZZO
* * * * *
THEATRE
MANAGER
Vales, where mists still shift and play, To ancient hill succeeding,— These our scenes;—so we, today, May rest, brave sons of Mieding.
HERALD
That the marriage golden be, Must fifty years be ended; More dear this feast of gold to me, Contention now suspended.
OBERON
Spirits, if present, grace the scene, And if with me united, Then gratulate the king and queen, Their troth thus newly plighted!
PUCK
Puck draws near and wheels about, In mazy circles dancing! Hundreds swell his joyous shout, Behind him still advancing.
ARIEL
Ariel wakes his dainty air, His lyre celestial stringing.— Fools he lureth, and the fair, With his celestial singing.
OBERON
Wedded ones, would ye agree, We court your imitation: Would ye fondly love as we, We counsel separation.
TITANIA
If husband scold and wife retort, Then bear them far asunder; Her to the burning south transport, And him the North Pole under.
THE WHOLE ORCHESTRA (fortissimo)
Flies and midges all unite With frog and chirping cricket, Our orchestra throughout the night, Resounding in the thicket!
(Solo)
Yonder doth the bagpipe come! Its sack an airy bubble. Schnick, schnick, schnack, with nasal hum, Its notes it doth redouble.
EMBRYO SPIRIT
Spider's foot and midge's wing, A toad in form and feature; Together verses it can string, Though scarce a living creature.
A LITTLE PAIR
Tiny step and lofty bound, Through dew and exhalation; Ye trip it deftly on the ground, But gain no elevation.
INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER
Can I indeed believe my eyes? Is't not mere masquerading? What! Oberon in beauteous guise, Among the groups parading!
ORTHODOX
No claws, no tail to whisk about, To fright us at our revel; Yet like the gods of Greece, no doubt, He too's a genuine devil.
NORTHERN ARTIST
These that I'm hitting off today Are sketches unpretending; Toward Italy without delay, My steps I think of bending.
PURIST
Alas! ill-fortune leads me here, Where riot still grows louder; And 'mong the witches gather'd here, But two alone wear powder!
YOUNG WITCH
Your powder and your petticoat, Suit hags, there's no gainsaying; Hence I sit fearless on my goat, My naked charms displaying.
MATRON
We're too well-bred to squabble here, Or insult back to render; But may you wither soon, my dear, Although so young and tender.
LEADER OF THE BAND
Nose of fly and gnat's proboscis, Throng not the naked beauty! Frogs and crickets in the mosses, Keep time and do your duty!
WEATHERCOCK (toward one side)
What charming company I view Together here collected! Gay bachelors, a hopeful crew, And brides so unaffected!
WEATHERCOCK (toward the other side)
Unless indeed the yawning ground Should open to receive them, From this vile crew, with sudden bound, To Hell I'd jump and leave them.
XENIEN
With small sharp shears, in insect guise, Behold us at your revel! That we may tender, filial-wise, Our homage to the devil.
HENNINGS
Look now at yonder eager crew, How naively they're jesting! That they have tender hearts and true, They stoutly keep protesting!
MUSAGET
Oneself amid this witchery How pleasantly one loses; For witches easier are to me To govern than the Muses!
CI-DEVANT GENIUS OF THE AGE
With proper folks when we appear, No one can then surpass us! Keep close, wide is the Blocksberg here As Germany's Parnassus.
INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER
How name ye that stiff formal man, Who strides with lofty paces? He tracks the game where'er he can, "He scents the Jesuits' traces."
CRANE
Where waters troubled are or clear, To fish I am delighted; Thus pious gentlemen appear With devils here united.
WORLDLING
By pious people, it is true, No medium is rejected; Conventicles, and not a few, On Blocksberg are erected.
DANCER
Another chorus now succeeds, Far off the drums are beating. Be still! The bitterns 'mong the reeds Their one note are repeating.
DANCING MASTER
Each twirls about and never stops, And as he can he fareth. The crooked leaps, the clumsy hops, Nor for appearance careth.
FIDDLER
To take each other's life, I trow, Would cordially delight them! As Orpheus' lyre the beasts, so now The bagpipe doth unite them.
DOGMATIST
My views, in spite of doubt and sneer, I hold with stout persistence, Inferring from the devils here, The evil one's existence.
IDEALIST
My every sense rules Phantasy With sway quite too potential; Sure I'm demented if the I Alone is the essential.
REALIST
This entity's a dreadful bore, And cannot choose but vex me; The ground beneath me ne'er before Thus totter'd to perplex me.
SUPERNATURALIST
Well pleased assembled here I view Of spirits this profusion; From devils, touching angels too, I gather some conclusion.
SCEPTIC
The ignis fatuus they track out, And think they're near the treasure. Devil alliterates with doubt, Here I abide with pleasure.
LEADER OF THE BAND
Frog and cricket in the mosses,— Confound your gasconading! Nose of fly and gnat's proboscis;— Most tuneful serenading!
THE KNOWING ONES
Sans souci, so this host we greet, Their jovial humor showing; There's now no walking on our feet, So on our heads we're going.
THE AWKWARD ONES
In seasons past we snatch'd, 'tis true, Some tit-bits by our cunning; Our shoes, alas, are now danced through, On our bare soles we're running.
WILL-O'-THE-WISPS
From marshy bogs we sprang to light, Yet here behold us dancing; The gayest gallants of the night, In glitt'ring rows advancing.
SHOOTING STAR
With rapid motion from on high, I shot in starry splendor; Now prostrate on the grass I lie;— Who aid will kindly render?
THE MASSIVE ONES
Room! wheel round! They're coming! lo! Down sink the bending grasses. Though spirits, yet their limbs, we know, Are huge substantial masses.
PUCK
Don't stamp so heavily, I pray; Like elephants you're treading! And 'mong the elves be Puck today, The stoutest at the wedding!
ARIEL
If nature boon, or subtle sprite, Endow your soul with pinions;— Then follow to you rosy height, Through ether's calm dominions!
ORCHESTRA (pianissimo)
Drifting cloud and misty wreathes Are fill'd with light elysian; O'er reed and leaf the zephyr breathes— So fades the fairy vision!
A GLOOMY DAY. A PLAIN
FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES
FAUST
In misery! despairing! long wandering pitifully on the face of the earth and now imprisoned! This gentle hapless creature, immured in the dungeon as a malefactor and reserved for horrid tortures! That it should come to this! To this!—Perfidious, worthless spirit, and this thou hast concealed from me!—Stand! ay, stand! roll in malicious rage thy fiendish eyes! Stand and brave me with thine insupportable presence! Imprisoned! In hopeless misery! Delivered over to the power of evil spirits and the judgment of unpitying humanity!—And me, the while, thou went lulling with tasteless dissipations, concealing from me her growing anguish, and leaving her to perish without help!
MEPHISTOPHELES
She is not the first.
FAUST
Hound! Execrable monster!—Back with him, oh thou infinite spirit! back with the reptile into his dog's shape, in which it was his wont to scamper before me at eventide, to roll before the feet of the harmless wanderer, and to fasten on his shoulders when he fell! Change him again into his favorite shape, that he may crouch on his belly before me in the dust, whilst I spurn him with my foot, the reprobate!—Not the first!—Woe! Woe! By no human soul is it conceivable, that more than one human creature has ever sunk into a depth of wretchedness like this, or that the first in her writhing death-agony should not have atoned in the sight of all-pardoning Heaven for the guilt of all the rest! The misery of this one pierces me to the very marrow, and harrows up my soul; thou art grinning calmly over the doom of thousands!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Now we are once again at our wit's end, just where the reason of you mortals snaps! Why dost thou seek our fellowship, if thou canst not go through with it? Wilt fly, and art not proof against dizziness? Did we force ourselves on thee, or thou on us?
FAUST
Cease thus to gnash thy ravenous fangs at me! I loathe thee!—Great and glorious spirit, thou who didst vouchsafe to reveal thyself unto me, thou who dost know my very heart and soul, why hast thou linked me with this base associate, who feeds on mischief and revels in destruction?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Hast done?
FAUST
Save her!—or woe to thee! The direst of curses on thee for thousands of years!
MEPHISTOPHELES
I cannot loose the bands of the avenger, nor withdraw his bolts.—Save her!—Who was it plunged her into perdition? I or thou?
FAUST (looks wildly around)
MEPHISTOPHELES
Would'st grasp the thunder? Well for you, poor mortals, that 'tis not yours to wield! To smite to atoms the being, however innocent, who obstructs his path, such is the tyrant's fashion of relieving himself in difficulties!
FAUST
Convey me thither! She shall be free!
MEPHISTOPHELES
And the danger to which thou dost expose thyself? Know, the guilt of blood, shed by thy hand, lies yet upon the town. Over the place where fell the murdered one, avenging spirits hover and watch for the returning murderer.
FAUST
This too from thee? The death and downfall of a world be on thee, monster! Conduct me thither, I say and set her free!
MEPHISTOPHELES
I will conduct thee. And what I can do,—hear! Have I all power in heaven and upon earth? I'll cloud the senses of the warder,—do thou possess thyself of the keys and lead her forth with human hand! I will keep watch! The magic steeds are waiting, I bear thee off. Thus much is in my power.
FAUST
Up and away!
NIGHT. OPEN COUNTRY
FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES
(Rushing along on black horses)
FAUST
What weave they yonder round the Ravenstone?
MEPHISTOPHELES
I know not what they shape and brew.
FAUST
They're soaring, swooping, bending, stooping.
MEPHISTOPHELES
A witches' pack.
FAUST
They charm, they strew.
MEPHISTOPHELES
On! On!
DUNGEON
FAUST (with a bunch of keys and a lamp before a small iron door)
A fear unwonted o'er my spirit falls; Man's concentrated woe o'erwhelms me here! She dwells immur'd within these dripping walls; Her only trespass a delusion dear! Thou lingerest at the fatal door? Thou dread'st to see her face once more? On! While thou dalliest, draws her death-hour near.
[He seizes the lock. Singing within.]
My mother, the harlot, She took me and slew! My father, the scoundrel, Hath eaten me too! My sweet little sister Hath all my bones laid, Where soft breezes whisper All in the cool shade! Then became I a wood-bird, and sang on the spray, Fly away! little bird, fly away! fly away!
FAUST (opening the lock)
Ah! she forebodes not that her lover's near, The clanking chains, the rustling straw, to hear. [He enters.]
MARGARET (hiding her face in the bed of straw)
Woe! woe! they come! oh bitter 'tis to die!
FAUST (Softly)
Hush! hush! be still! I come to set thee free.
MARGARET (throwing herself at his feet)
If thou art human, feel my misery!
FAUST
Thou wilt awake the jailer with thy cry!
[He grasps the chains to unlock them.]
MARGARET (on her knees)
Who, headsman, unto thee this power O'er me could give? Thou com'st for me at midnight-hour. Be merciful, and let me live! Is morrow's dawn not time enough? [She stands up.]
I'm still so young, so young— And must so early die! Fair was I too, and that was my undoing. My love is now afar, he then was nigh; Tom lies the garland, the fair blossoms strew'd. Nay, seize me not with hand so rude! Spare me! What harm have I e'er done to thee? Oh let me not in vain implore! I ne'er have seen thee in my life before!
FAUST
Can I endure this bitter agony?
MARGARET
I now am at thy mercy quite. Let me my babe but suckle once again! I fondled it the live-long night; They took it from me but to give me pain, And now, they say that I my child have slain. Gladness I ne'er again shall know. Then they sing songs about me,—'tis wicked of the throng— An ancient ballad endeth so; Who bade them thus apply the song?
FAUST (throwing himself on the ground)
A lover at thy feet bends low, To loose the bonds of wretchedness and woe.
MARGARET (throws herself beside him)
Oh, let us kneel and move the saints by prayer! Look! look! yon stairs below, Under the threshold there, Hell's flames are all aglow! Beneath the floor, With hideous noise, The devils roar!
FAUST (aloud)
Gretchen! Gretchen!
MARGARET (listening)
That was my lov'd one's voice!
[She springs up, the chains fall off.]
Where is he? I heard him calling me. Free am I! There's none shall hinder me. To his neck will I fly, On his bosom will lie! Gretchen, he called!—On yon threshold he stood; Amidst all the howling of hell's fiery flood, The scoff and the scorn of its devilish crew, The tones of his voice, sweet and loving, I knew.
FAUST
'Tis I!
MARGARET
'Tis thou! O say so once again! [embracing him.] 'Tis he! 'Tis he! where's now the torturing pain? Where are the fetters? where the dungeon's gloom? 'Tis thou! To save me thou art come! And I am sav'd!— Already now the street I see Where the first time I caught a glimpse of thee. There to the pleasant garden shade, Where I and Martha for thy coming stay'd.
FAUST (endeavoring to lead her away)
Come! come away!
MARGARET
Oh do not haste! I love to linger where thou stayest. [caressing him.]
FAUST
Ah haste! For if thou still delayest, Our lingering we shall both deplore.
MARGARET
How, dearest? canst thou kiss no more! So short a time away from me, and yet, To kiss thou couldst so soon forget! Why on thy neck so anxious do I feel— When formerly a perfect heaven of bliss From thy dear looks and words would o'er me steal? As thou wouldst stifle me thou then didst kiss!— Kiss me! Or I'll kiss thee! [She embraces him.] Woe! woe! Thy lips are cold,— Are dumb! Thy love where hast thou left? Who hath me of thy love bereft?
[She turns away from him.]
FAUST
Come! Follow me, my dearest love, be bold! I'll cherish thee with ardor thousand-fold; I but entreat thee now to follow me!
MARGARET (turning toward him)
And art thou he? and art thou really he?
FAUST
'Tis I! Oh come!
MARGARET
Thou wilt strike off my chain, And thou wilt take me to thine arms again. How comes it that thou dost not shrink from me?— And dost thou know, love, whom thou wouldst set free?
FAUST
Come! come! already night begins to wane.
MARGARET
I sent my mother to her grave, I drown'd my child beneath the wave. Was it not given to thee and me—thee too? 'Tis thou thyself! I scarce believe it yet. Give me thy hand! It is no dream! 'Tis true! Thine own dear hand!—But how is this? 'Tis wet! Quick, wipe it off! Meseems that yet There's blood thereon. Ah God! what hast thou done? Put up thy sword, I beg of thee!
FAUST
Oh, dearest, let the past forgotten be! Death is in every word.
MARGARET
No, thou must linger here in sorrow! The graves I will describe to thee, And thou to them must see Tomorrow: The best place give to my mother, Close at her side my brother, Me at some distance lay— But not too far away! And the little one place on my right breast. Nobody else will near me lie! To nestle beside thee so lovingly, That was a rapture, gracious and sweet! A rapture I never again shall prove; Methinks I would force myself on thee, love, And thou dost spurn me, and back retreat— Yet 'tis thyself, thy fond kind looks I see.
FAUST
If thou dost feel 'tis I, then come with me!
MARGARET
What, there? without?
FAUST
Yes, forth in the free air.
MARGARET
Ay, if the grave's without,—If death lurk there! Hence to the everlasting resting-place, And not one step beyond!—Thou'rt leaving me? Oh Henry! would that I could go with thee!
FAUST
Thou canst! But will it! Open stands the door.
MARGARET
I dare not go! I've naught to hope for more. What boots it to escape? They lurk for me! 'Tis wretched to beg, as I must do, And with an evil conscience thereto! 'Tis wretched, in foreign lands to stray; And me they will catch, do what I may!
FAUST
With thee will I abide.
MARGARET
Quick! Quick! Save thy poor child! Keep to the path The brook along, Over the bridge To the wood beyond, To the left, where the plank is, In the pond. Seize it at once! It fain would rise, It struggles still! Save it. Oh save!
FAUST
Dear Gretchen, more collected be! One little step, and thou art free!
MARGARET
Were we but only past the hill There sits my mother upon a stone— My brain, alas, is cold with dread!— There sits my mother upon a stone, And to and fro she shakes her head; She winks not, she nods not, her head it droops sore; She slept so long, she waked no more; She slept, that we might taste of bliss: Ah I those were happy times, I wis!
FAUST
Since here avails nor argument nor prayer, Thee hence by force I needs must bear.
MARGARET
Loose me! I will not suffer violence! With murderous hand hold not so fast! I have done all to please thee in the past!
FAUST
Day dawns! My love! My love!
MARGARET
Yes! day draws near, The day of judgment too will soon appear! It should have been my bridal! No one tell, That thy poor Gretchen thou hast known too well. Woe to my garland! Its bloom is o'er! Though not at the dance— We shall meet once more. The crowd doth gather, in silence it rolls; The squares, the streets, Scarce hold the throng. The staff is broken,—the death-bell tolls,— They bind and seize me! I'm hurried along, To the seat of blood already I'm bound! Quivers each neck as the naked steel Quivers on mine the blow to deal— The silence of the grave now broods around!
FAUST
Would I had ne'er been born!
MEPHISTOPHELES (appears without)
Up! or you're lost. Vain hesitation! Babbling, quaking! My steeds are shivering, Morn is breaking.
MARGARET
What from the floor ascendeth like a ghost? 'Tis he! 'Tis he! Him from my presence chase! What would he in this holy place? It is for me he cometh!
FAUST
Thou shalt live!
MARGARET
Judgment of God! To thee my soul I give!
MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST)
Come, come! With her I'll else abandon thee!
MARGARET
Father, I'm thine! Do thou deliver me! Ye angels! Ye angelic hosts! descend, Encamp around to guard me and defend!— Henry! I shudder now to look on thee!
MEPHISTOPHELES
She now is judged!
VOICES (from above)
Is saved!
MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST)
Come thou with me!
[vanishes with FAUST.]
VOICE (from within, dying away)
Henry! Henry!
END OF PART I.
FAUST—SELECTIONS FROM PART II (1832)
ACT THE FIRST
A PLEASING LANDSCAPE
FAUST, reclining upon flowery turf, restless, seeking sleep
TWILIGHT
Circle of spirits, hovering, flit around;—Graceful, tiny forms.
ARIEL
Song, accompanied by AEolian harps When, in vernal showers descending, Blossoms gently veil the earth, When the fields' green wealth, up-tending, Gleams on all of mortal birth; Tiny elves, where help availeth, Large of heart, there fly apace; Pity they whom grief assaileth, Be he holy, be he base.
Ye round this head on airy wing careering, Attend, in noble Elfin guise appearing; Assuage the cruel strife that rends his heart, The burning shaft remove of keen remorse, From rankling horror cleanse his inmost part: Four are the pauses of the nightly course; Them, without rest, fill up with kindly art. And first his head upon cool pillow lay, Then bathe ye him in dew from Lethe's stream; His limbs, cramp-stiffen'd, will more freely play, If sleep-refreshed he wait morn's wakening beam.
Perform the noblest Elfin-rite, Restore ye him to the holy light!
CHORUS (singly, two or more, alternately and together)
Softly when warm gales are stealing O'er the green-environed ground, Twilight sheddeth all-concealing Mists and balmy odors round: Whispers low sweet peace to mortals, Rocks the heart to childlike rest, And of day-light shuts the portals To these eyes, with care oppressed. Night hath now descended darkling, Holy star is linked to star; Sovereign fires, or faintly sparkling, Glitter near and shine afar; Glitter here lake-mirror'd, yonder Shine adown the clear night sky; Sealing bliss of perfect slumber, Reigns the moon's full majesty.
Now the hours are cancelled; sorrow, Happiness, have passed away: Whole thou shalt be on the morrow! Feel it! Trust the new-born day! Swell the hills, green grow the valleys, In the dusk ere breaks the morn; And in silvery wavelets dallies, With the wind, the ripening corn.
Cherish hope, let naught appall thee! Mark the East, with splendor dyed! Slight the fetters that enthrall thee; Fling the shell of sleep aside! Gird thee for the high endeavor; Shun the crowd's ignoble ease! Fails the noble spirit never, Wise to think, and prompt to seize.
[A tremendous tumult announces the uprising of the Sun.]
ARIEL
Hark, the horal tempest nears, Sounding but for spirit ears, Lo! the new-born day appears; Clang the rocky portals, climb Phoebus' wheels with thund'rous chime: Breaks with tuneful noise the light! Blare of trumpet, clarion sounding, Eye-sight dazing, ear astounding! Hear not the unheard; take flight! Into petaled blossoms glide Deeper, deeper, still to bide, In the clefts, 'neath thickets! ye, If it strike you, deaf will be.
FAUST
Life's pulses reawakened freshly bound, The mild ethereal twilight fain to greet. Thou, Earth, this night wast also constant found, And, newly-quickened, breathing at my feet, Beginnest now to gird me with delight; A strong resolve dost rouse, with noble heat Aye to press on to being's sovereign height. The world in glimmering dawn still folded lies; With thousand-voiced life the woods resound; Mist-wreaths the valley shroud; yet from the skies Sinks heaven's clear radiance to the depths profound; And bough and branch from dewy chasms rise, Where they had drooped erewhile in slumber furled; Earth is enamelled with unnumber'd dyes, Leaflet and flower with dew-drops are impearled; Around me everywhere is paradise.
Gaze now aloft! Each mountain's giant height The solemn hour announces, herald-wise; They early may enjoy the eternal light, To us below which later finds its way. Now are the Alpine slopes and valleys dight With the clear radiance of the new-born day, Which, downward, step by step, steals on apace.—It blazes forth,—and, blinded by the ray, With aching eyes, alas! I veil my face. So when a hope, the heart hath long held fast, Trustful, still striving toward its highest goal, Fulfilment's portals open finds at last;—Sudden from those eternal depths doth roll An over-powering flame;—we stand aghast! The torch of life to kindle we were fain;—A fire-sea,—what a fire!—doth round us close; Love is it? Is it hate? with joy and pain, In alternation vast, that round us glows? So that to earth we turn our wistful gaze, In childhood's veil to shroud us once again!
So let the sun behind me pour its rays! The cataract, through rocky cleft that roars, I view, with growing rapture and amaze. From fall to fall, with eddying shock, it pours, In thousand torrents to the depths below, Aloft in air up-tossing showers of spray. But see, in splendor bursting from the storm, Arches itself the many-colored bow, And ever-changeful, yet continuous form, Now drawn distinctly, melting now away, Diffusing dewy coolness all around! Man's efforts there are glassed, his toil and strife; Reflect, more true the emblem will be found: This bright reflected glory pictures life!
IMPERIAL PALACE. THRONE-ROOM
Council of State, in expectation of the EMPEROR
TRUMPETS
Enter courtiers of every grade, splendidly attired. The Emperor ascends the throne; to the right the ASTROLOGER.
EMPEROR
I greet you, trusty friends and dear, Assembled thus from far and wide!— I see the wise man at my side, But wherefore is the fool not here?
PAGE
Entangled in thy mantle's flow. He tripped upon the stair below; The mass of fat they bare away, If dead or drunken—who can say?
SECOND PAGE
Forthwith another comes apace, With wondrous speed to take his place; Costly, yet so grotesque his gear, All start amazed as he draws near. Crosswise the guards before his face, Entrance to bar, their halberds hold— Yet there he is, the fool so bold.
MEPHISTOPHELES (kneeling before the throne)
What is accursed and gladly hailed? What is desired and chased away? What is upbraided and assailed? What wins protection every day? Whom darest thou not summon here? Whose name doth plaudits still command? What to thy throne now draweth near? What from this place itself hath banned?
EMPEROR
For this time thou thy words may'st spare! This is no place for riddles, friend; They are these gentlemen's affair,— Solve them! an ear I'll gladly lend. My old fool's gone, far, far away, I fear; Take thou his place, come, stand beside me here!
[MEPHISTOPHELES ascends and places himself at the EMPEROR'S left.]
Murmur of the Crowd
Here's a new fool—for plague anew! Whence cometh he?—How passed he through? The old one fell—he squander'd hath.— He was a tub—now 'tis a lath.—
EMPEROR
So now, my friends, beloved and leal, Be welcome all, from near and far! Ye meet 'neath an auspicious star; For us above are written joy and weal. But tell me wherefore, on this day, When we all care would cast away, And don the masker's quaint array, And naught desire but to enjoy, Should we with state affairs ourselves annoy? But if ye think it so must be indeed, Why, well and good, let us forthwith proceed!
CHANCELLOR
The highest virtue circles halo-wise Our Caesar's brow; virtue, which from the throne, He validly can exercise alone: Justice!—What all men love and prize, What all demand, desire, and sorely want, It lies with him, this to the folk to grant. But ah! what help can intellect command, Goodness of heart, or willingness of hand, When fever saps the state with deadly power, And mischief breedeth mischief, hour by hour? To him who downward from this height supreme Views the wide realm, 'tis like a troubled dream, Where the deformed deformity o'ersways, Where lawlessness, through law, the tyrant plays, And error's ample world itself displays.
One steals a woman, one a steer, Lights from the altar, chalice, cross, Boasts of his deed full many a year, Unscathed in body, without harm or loss. Now to the hall accusers throng; On cushioned throne the judge presides; Surging meanwhile in eddying tides, Confusion waxes fierce and strong.
He may exalt in crime and shame, Who on accomplices depends; Guilty! the verdict they proclaim, When Innocence her cause defends. So will the world succumb to ill, And what is worthy perish quite; How then may grow the sense which still Instructs us to discern the right? E'en the right-minded man, in time, To briber and to flatterer yields; The judge, who cannot punish crime, Joins with the culprit whom he shields.— I've painted black, yet fain had been A veil to draw before the scene.
Pause
Measures must needs be taken; when All injure or are injured, then E'en Majesty becomes a prey.
FIELD MARSHAL
In these wild days what tumults reign! Each smitten is and smites again, Deaf to command, will none obey. The burgher, safe behind his wall, Within his rocky nest, the knight, Against us have conspired, and all Firmly to hold their own unite. Impatient is the hireling now, With vehemence he claims his due; And did we owe him naught, I trow, Off he would run, nor bid adieu. Who thwarts what fondly all expect, He bath disturbed a hornet's nest; The empire which they should protect, It lieth plundered and oppress'd. Their furious rage may none restrain; Already half the world's undone; Abroad there still are kings who reign— None thinks 'tis his concern, not one.
TREASURER
Who will depend upon allies! For us their promised subsidies Like conduit-water, will not flow. Say, Sire, through your dominions vast To whom hath now possession passed! Some upstart, wheresoe'er we go, Keeps house, and independent reigns. We must look on, he holds his own; So many rights away we've thrown, That for ourselves no right remains. On so-called parties in the state There's no reliance, now-a-days; They may deal out or blame or praise, Indifferent are love and hate. The Ghibelline as well as Guelph Retire, that they may live at ease! Who helps his neighbor now? Himself Each hath enough to do to please. Barred are the golden gates; while each Scrapes, snatches, gathers all within his reach— Empty, meanwhile, our chest remains.
STEWARD
What worry must I, also, bear! Our aim each day is still to spare— And more each day we need; my pains, Daily renewed, are never o'er. The cooks lack nothing;—deer, wild-boar, Stags, hares, fowls, turkeys, ducks and geese,— Tribute in kind, sure payment, these Come fairly in, and none complains. But now at last wine fails; and if of yore Up-piled upon the cellar-floor, Cask rose on cask, a goodly store, From the best slopes and vintage; now The swilling of our lords, I trow, Unceasing, drains the very lees. E'en the Town-council must give out Its liquor;—bowls and cups they seize; And 'neath the table lies the drunken rout. Now must I pay, whate'er betides; Me the Jew spares not; he provides Anticipation-bonds which feed Each year on that which must succeed; The swine are never fattened now; Pawned is the pillow or the bed, And to the table comes fore-eaten bread.
EMPEROR (after some reflection, to MEPHISTOPHELES)
Say, fool, another grievance knowest thou?
MEPHISTOPHELES
I, nowise. On this circling pomp to gaze, On thee and thine! There can reliance fail Where majesty resistless sways, And ready power makes foemen quail? Where loyal will, through reason strong, And prowess, manifold, unite, What could together join for wrong, For darkness, where such stars give light?
Murmur of the Crowd
He is a knave—he comprehends— He lies—while lying serves his ends— Full well I know—what lurks behind— What next?—Some scheme is in the wind!—
MEPHISTOPHELES
Where is not something wanting here on earth? Here this,—there that: of gold is here the dearth. It cannot from the floor be scrap'd, 'tis true; But what lies deepest wisdom brings to view. In mountain-veins, walls underground, Is gold, both coined and uncoined, to be found. And if ye ask me,—bring it forth who can? Spirit-and nature-power of gifted man.
CHANCELLOR
Nature and spirit—christians ne'er should hear Such words, with peril fraught and fear. These words doom atheists to the fire. Nature is sin, spirit is devil; they, Between them, doubt beget, their progeny, Hermaphrodite, mis-shapen, dire. Not so with us! Within our Caesar's land Two orders have arisen, two alone, Who worthily support his ancient throne: Clergy and knights, who fearless stand, Bulwarks 'gainst every storm, and they Take church and state as their appropriate pay. Through lawless men, the vulgar herd To opposition have of late been stirred; The heretics these are, the wizards, who The city ruin and the country too. With thy bold jests, to this high sphere, Such miscreants wilt smuggle in; Hearts reprobate to you are dear; They to the fool are near of kin.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Herein your learned men I recognize! What you touch not, miles distant from you lies; What you grasp not, is naught in sooth to you; What you count not, cannot, you deem, be true; What you weigh not, that hath for you no weight; What you coin not, you're sure is counterfeit.
EMPEROR
Therewith our needs are not one whit the less. What meanest thou with this thy Lent-address? I'm tired of this eternal If and How. 'Tis gold we lack; so good, procure it thou!
MEPHISTOPHELES
I'll furnish more, ay, more than all you ask. Though light it seems, not easy is the task. There lies the gold, but to procure it thence, That is the art: who knoweth to commence? Only consider, in those days of terror, When human floods swamped land and folk together, How every one, how great soe'er his fear, All that he treasured most, hid there or here; So was it 'neath the mighty Roman's sway, So on till yesterday, ay, till today: That all beneath the soil still buried lies— The soil is Caesar's, his shall be the prize.
TREASURER
Now for a fool he speaketh not amiss; Our Caesar's ancient right, in sooth, was this.
CHANCELLOR
Satan for you spreads golden snares; 'tis clear, Something not right or pious worketh here.
STEWARD
To us at court if welcome gifts he bring, A little wrong is no such serious thing.
FIELD MARSHAL
Shrewd is the fool, he bids what all desire; The soldier, whence it comes, will not inquire.
MEPHISTOPHELES
You think yourselves, perchance, deceived by me; Ask the Astrologer! This man is he! Circle round circle, hour and house, he knows.— Then tell us, how the heavenly aspect shows.
Murmur of the Crowd
Two rascals—each to other known— Phantast and fool—so near the throne— The old, old song,—now trite with age— The fool still prompts—while speaks the sage.—
ASTROLOGER (speaks, MEPHISTOPHELES prompts)
The sun himself is purest gold; for pay And favor serves the herald, Mercury; Dame Venus hath bewitched you from above, Early and late, she looks on you with love; Chaste Luna's humor varies hour by hour; Mars, though he strike not, threats you with his power, And Jupiter is still the fairest star; Saturn is great, small to the eye and far; As metal him we slightly venerate, Little in worth, though ponderous in weight. Now when with Sol fair Luna doth unite. Silver with gold, cheerful the world and bright! Then easy 'tis to gain whate'er one seeks; Parks, gardens, palaces, and rosy cheeks; These things procures this highly learned man. He can accomplish what none other can.
EMPEROR
Double, methinks, his accents ring, And yet they no conviction bring.
Murmur
Of what avail!—a worn-out tale— Calendery—and chemistry— I the false word—full oft have heard— And as of yore—we're hoax'd once more.
MEPHISTOPHELES
The grand discovery they misprize, As, in amaze, they stand around; One prates of gnomes and sorceries, Another of the sable hound. What matters it, though witlings rail, Though one his suit 'gainst witchcraft press, If his sole tingle none the less, If his sure footing also fail? Ye of all swaying Nature feel The secret working, never-ending, And, from her lowest depths up-tending, E'en now her living trace doth steal. If sudden cramps your limbs surprise, If all uncanny seem the spot— There dig and delve, but dally not! There lies the fiddler, there the treasure lies!
Murmur
Like lead it lies my foot about— Cramp'd is my arm—'tis only gout— Twitchings I have in my great toe— Down all my back strange pains I know— Such indications make it clear That sumless treasuries are here.
EMPEROR
To work—the time for flight is past.— Put to the test your frothy lies! These treasures bring before our eyes! Sceptre and sword aside I'll cast, And with these royal hands, indeed, If thou lie not, to work proceed. Thee, if thou lie, I'll send to hell!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Thither to find the way I know full well!— Yet can I not enough declare, What wealth unown'd lies waiting everywhere: The countryman, who ploughs the land, Gold-crocks upturneth with the mould; Nitre he seeks in lime-walls old, And findeth, in his meagre hand, Scared, yet rejoiced, rouleaus of gold. How many a vault upblown must be, Into what clefts, what shafts, must he Who doth of hidden treasure know, Descend, to reach the world below! In cellars vast, impervious made, Goblets of gold he sees displayed, Dishes and plates, row after row; There beakers, rich with rubies, stand; And would he use them, close at hand Well stored the ancient moisture lies; Yet—would ye him who knoweth, trust?— The staves long since have turned to dust, A tartar cask their place supplies! Not gold alone and jewels rare, Essence of noblest wines are there, In night and horror veiled. The wise, Unwearied here pursues his quest. To search by day, that were a jest; 'Tis darkness that doth harbor mysteries.
EMPEROR
What can the dark avail? Look thou to that! If aught have worth, it cometh to the light. Who can detect the rogue at dead of night? Black are the cows, and gray is every cat. These pots of heavy gold, if they be there— Come, drive thy plough, upturn them with thy share!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Take spade and hoe thyself;—dig on— Great shalt thou be through peasant toil— A herd of golden calves anon Themselves shall tear from out the soil; Then straight, with rapture newly born, Thyself thou canst, thy sweet-heart wilt adorn. A sparkling gem, lustrous, of varied dye, Beauty exalts as well as majesty.
EMPEROR
To work, to work! How long wilt linger?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Sire, Relax, I pray, such vehement desire! First let us see the motley, joyous show! A mind distraught conducts not to the goal. First must we calmness win through self-control, Through things above deserve what lies below. Who seeks for goodness, must himself be good; Who seeks for joy, must moderate his blood; Who wine desires, the luscious grape must press; Who craveth miracles, more faith possess.
EMPEROR
So be the interval in gladness spent! Ash-Wednesday cometh, to our heart's content. Meanwhile we'll solemnize, whate'er befall, More merrily the joyous Carnival.
[Trumpets. Exeunt.]
MEPHISTOPHELES
That merit and success are link'd together, This to your fools occurreth never; Could they appropriate the wise man's stone, That, not the wise man, they would prize alone.
* * * * *
ACT THE SECOND
HIGH-VAULTED, NARROW GOTHIC CHAMBER, FORMERLY FAUST'S, UNALTERED
MEPHISTOPHELES (stepping from behind a curtain. While he raises it and looks back, FAUST is seen, stretched upon an old-fashioned bed)
Lie there, ill-starred one! In love's chain, Full hard to loose, he captive lies! Not soon his senses will regain Whom Helena doth paralyze.
(Looking round)
Above, around, on every side I gaze, uninjured all remains: Dimmer, methinks, appear the color'd panes, The spiders' webs are multiplied, Yellow the paper, and the ink is dry; Yet in its place each thing I find; And here the very pen doth lie, Wherewith himself Faust to the Devil signed, Yea, quite dried up, and deeper in the bore, The drop of blood, I lured from him of yore— O'erjoyed to own such specimen unique Were he who objects rare is fain to seek—; Here on its hook hangs still the old fur cloak, Me it remindeth of that merry joke, When to the boy I precepts gave, for truth, Whereon, perchance, he's feeding now, as youth. The wish comes over me, with thee allied, Enveloped in thy worn and rugged folds, Once more to swell with the professor's pride! How quite infallible himself he holds; This feeling to obtain your savants know; The devil parted with it long ago.
[He shakes the fur cloak which he has taken down; crickets, moths, and chafers fly out.]
CHORUS OF INSECTS
We welcome thy coming, Our patron of yore! We're dancing and humming, And know thee once more. Us singly, in silence, Hast planted, and lo! By thousands, oh Father, We dance to and fro. The rogue hides discreetly The bosom within; We looseskins fly rather Forth from the fur skin.
MEPHISTOPHELES
O'erjoyed I am my progeny to know! We're sure to reap in time, if we but sow. I shake the old fur-mantle as before, And here and there out flutters one or more.— Above, around, hasten, beloved elves, In hundred thousand nooks to hide yourselves! 'Mid boxes there of by-gone time, Here in these age-embrowned scrolls, In broken potsherds, foul with grime, In yonder skulls' now eyeless holes! Amid such rotten, mouldering life, Must foolish whims for aye be rife.
[Slips into the fur mantle.]
Come shroud my shoulders as of yore! Today I'm principal once more; But useless 'tis, to bear the name: Where are the folk to recognize my claim?
[He pulls the bell, which emits a shrill penetrating sound, at which the halls shake and the doors spring open.]
FAMULUS (tottering up the long dark passage)
What a clamor! What a quaking! Stairs are rocking, walls are shaking: Through the windows' quivering sheen, Are the stormful lightnings seen; Springs the ceiling,—thence, below, Lime and mortar rattling flow: And, though bolted fast, the door Is undone by magic power! There, in Faust's old fleece bedight, Stands a giant,—dreadful sight! At his glance, his beck, at me! I could sink upon my knee. Shall I fly, or shall I stay? What will be my fate today?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Come hither, friend!—Your name is Nicodemus?
FAMULUS
Most honor'd Sir, such is my name.—Oremus!
MEPHISTOPHELES
That we'll omit!
FAMULUS
O joy, me you do not forget.
MEPHISTOPHELES
I know it well: old, and a student yet; My mossy friend, even a learned man Still studies on, because naught else he can: Thus a card-house each builds of medium height; The greatest spirit fails to build it quite. Your master, though, that title well may claim— The noble Doctor Wagner, known to fame, First in the learned world! 'Tis he, they say, Who holds that world together; every day Of wisdom he augments the store! Who crave omniscience, evermore In crowds upon his teaching wait; He from the rostrum shines alone; The keys doth like Saint Peter own, And doth of Hell and Heaven ope the gate; As before all he glows and sparkles, No fame, no glory but grows dim, Even the name of Faustus darkles! Inventor there is none like him. |
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