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FAMULUS
Pardon, most honor'd Sir, excuse me, pray— If I presume your utterance to gainsay— This bears not on the question any way; A modest mind is his allotted share. The disappearance, unexplained as yet, Of the great man, his mind doth sorely fret; Comfort from his return and health are still his prayer. The chamber, as in Doctor Faustus' day, Maintains, untouched, its former state, And for its ancient lord doth wait. Venture therein I scarcely may. What now the aspect of the stars?— Awe-struck the very walls appear; The door-posts quivered, sprang the bars— Else you yourself could not have entered here.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Where then bestowed himself hath he? Lead me to him! bring him to me!
FAMULUS
Alas! Too strict his prohibition, Scarce dare I, without his permission. Months, on his mighty work intent, Hath he, in strict seclusion spent. Most dainty 'mong your men of books, Like charcoal-burner now he looks, With face begrimed from ear to nose; His eyes are blear'd while fire he blows; Thus for the crisis still he longs; His music is the clang of tongs.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Admittance unto me deny? To hasten his success, the man am I.
[Exit FAMULUS. MEPHISTOPHELES seats himself with a solemn air.]
Scarce have I ta'en my post, when lo! Stirs from behind a guest, whom well I know; Of the most recent school, this time, is he, And quite unbounded will his daring be.
BACCALAUREUS (storming along the passage)
Open find I door and gate! Hope at last springs up elate, That the living shall no more Corpse-like rot, as heretofore, And, while breathing living breath, Waste and moulder as in death.
Here partition, screen, and wall Are sinking, bowing to their fall, And, unless we soon retreat, Wreck and ruin us will greet. Me, though bold, nor soon afraid, To advance shall none persuade. What shall I experience next? Years ago, when sore perplexed, Came I not a freshman here, Full of anxious doubt and fear, On these gray-beards then relied, By their talk was edified?
What from musty tomes they drew, They lied to me; the things they knew Believed they not; with falsehood rife, Themselves and me they robbed of life. How?—Yonder is the murky glare, There's one still sitting in the Chair—
Drawing near I wonder more— Just as him I left of yore, There he sits, in furry gown, Wrapped in shaggy fleece, the brown! Then he clever seemed, indeed, Him as yet I could not read; Naught will it avail today; So have at him, straight-away!
If Lethe's murky flood not yet hath passed, Old Sir, through your bald pate, that sideways bends, The scholar recognize, who hither wends, Outgrown your academic rods at last. The same I find you, as of yore; But I am now the same no more.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Glad am I that I've rung you here. I prized you then not slightingly; In grub and chrysalis appear The future brilliant butterfly. A childish pleasure then you drew From collar, lace, and curls.—A queue You probably have never worn?— Now to a crop I see you shorn. All resolute and bold your air— But from the absolute forbear!
BACCALAUREUS
We're in the ancient place, mine ancient Sir, But think upon time's onward flow, And words of double-meaning spare! Quite otherwise we hearken now. You fooled the simple, honest youth; It cost but little art in sooth, To do what none today will dare.
MEPHISTOPHELES
If to the young the naked truth one speaks, It pleases in no wise the yellow beaks; But afterward, when in their turn On their own skin the painful truth they learn, They think, forsooth, from their own head it came; "The master was a fool," they straight proclaim.
BACCALAUREUS
A rogue perchance!—For where's the teacher found Who to our face, direct, will Truth expound? Children to edify, each knows the way, To add or to subtract, now grave, now gay.
MEPHISTOPHELES
For learning there's in very truth a time; For teaching, I perceive, you now are prime. While a few suns and many moons have waned, A rich experience you have doubtless gained!
BACCALAUREUS
Experience! Froth and scum alone, Not with the mind of equal birth! Confess! what men have always known, As knowledge now is nothing worth.
MEPHISTOPHELES (after a pause)
I long have thought myself a fool; Now shallow to myself I seem, and dull.
BACCALAUREUS
That pleases me! Like reason that doth sound; The first old man of sense I yet have found!
MEPHISTOPHELES
I sought for hidden treasures, genuine gold— And naught but hideous ashes forth I bore!
BACCALAUREUS
Confess that pate of yours, though bare and old, Than yonder hollow skull is worth no more!
MEPHISTOPHELES (good-naturedly)
Thou know'st not, friend, how rude is thy reply.
BACCALAUREUS
In German to be courteous is to lie.
MEPHISTOPHELES (still moving his wheel-chair ever nearer to the proscenium, to the pit)
Up here I am bereft of light and air; I perhaps shall find a refuge with you there?
BACCALAUREUS
When at their worst, that men would something be, When they are naught, presumptuous seems to me. Man's life is in the blood, and where, in sooth, Pulses the blood so strongly as in youth? That's living blood, which with fresh vigor rife, The newer life createth out of life. There all is movement, something there is done; Falleth the weak, the able presses on! While half the world we 'neath our sway have brought, What have ye done? Slept, nodded, dream'd, and thought, Plan after plan rejected;—nothing won. Age is, in sooth, a fever cold, With frost of whims and peevish need: When more than thirty years are told, As good as dead one is indeed: You it were best, methinks, betimes to slay.
MEPHISTOPHELES
The devil here has nothing more to say.
BACCALAUREUS
Save through my will, no devil dares to be.
MEPHISTOPHELES (aside)
The devil now prepares a fall for thee!
BACCALAUREUS
The noblest mission this of youth's estate. The world was not, till it I did create; The radiant Sun I led from out the sea; Her changeful course the Moon began with me; The Day arrayed herself my steps to meet, The Earth grew green, and blossom'd me to greet: At my command, upon yon primal Night, The starry hosts unveiled their glorious light. Who, beside me, the galling chains unbound, Which cramping thought had cast your spirits round? But I am free, as speaks my spirit-voice, My inward light I follow, and rejoice; Swift I advance, enraptur'd, void of fear, Brightness before me, darkness in the rear. [Exit.]
MEPHISTOPHELES
Go, in thy pride, Original, thy way!— True insight would, in truth, thy spirit grieve! What wise or stupid thoughts can man conceive, Unponder'd in the ages passed away?— Yet we for him need no misgiving have; Changed will he be, when a few years are past; Howe'er absurdly may the must behave, Nathless it yields a wine at last.—
(To the younger part of the audience, who do not applaud.)
Though to my words you're somewhat cold, Good children, me you don't offend; Reflect! The devil, he is old; Grow old then, him to comprehend!
LABORATORY
(After the fashion of the middle ages; cumbrous, useless apparatus, for fantastic purposes)
WAGNER (at the furnace)
Soundeth the bell, the fearful clang Thrills through these sooty walls; no more Upon fulfilment waits the pang Of hope or fear;—suspense is o'er; The darknesses begin to clear, Within the inmost phial glows Radiance, like living coal, that throws, As from a splendid carbuncle, its rays; Athwart the gloom its lightning plays. A pure white lustre doth appear; O may I never lose it more!— My God! what rattles at the door?
MEPHISTOPHELES (entering)
Welcome! As friend I enter here.
WAGNER
Hail to the star that rules the hour!
(Softly)
On breath and utterance let a ban be laid! Soon will be consummate a work of power.
MEPHISTOPHELES (in a whisper)
What is it, then?
WAGNER A man is being made.
MEPHISTOPHELES
A man? and pray what loving pair Have in your smoke-hole their abode?
WAGNER
Nay! Heaven forbid! As nonsense we declare The ancient procreative mode; The tender point, life's spring, the gentle strength That took and gave, that from within hath pressed, And seized, intent itself to manifest, The nearest first, the more remote at length,— This from its dignity is now dethron'd! The brute indeed may take delight therein, But man, by whom such mighty gifts are own'd, Must have a purer, higher origin.
(He turns to the furnace)
It flashes, see!—Now may we trustful hold, That if, of substances a hundred-fold, Through mixture,—for on mixture it depends— The human substance duly we compose, And then in a retort enclose, And cohobate; in still repose The work is perfected, our labor ends.
(Again turning to the furnace)
It forms! More clear the substance shows! Stronger, more strong, conviction grows! What Nature's mystery we once did style, That now to test, our reason tries, And what she organized erewhile, We now are fain to crystallize.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Who lives, doth much experience glean; By naught in this world will he be surprised; Already in my travel-years I've seen Full many a race of mortals crystallized.
WAGNER (still gazing intently on the phial)
It mounts, it glows, and doth together run, One moment, and the work is done! As mad, a grand design at first is view'd; But we henceforth may laugh at fate, And so a brain, with thinking-power embued, Henceforth your living thinker will create.
(Surveying the phial with rapture)
The glass resounds, with gracious power possessed; It dims, grows clear; living it needs must be! And now in form of beauty dressed, A dainty mannikin I see. What more can we desire, what more mankind? Unveiled is now what hidden was of late; Give ear unto this sound, and you will find, A voice it will become, articulate.—
HOMUNCULUS (in the phial, to WAGNER)
Now, Fatherkin, how goes it? 'Twas no jest! Come, let me to thy heart be fondly pressed— Lest the glass break, less tight be thine embrace This is the property of things: the All Scarcely suffices for the natural; The artificial needs a bounded space.
(To MEPHISTOPHELES)
But thou, Sir Cousin, Rogue, art thou too here? At the right moment! Thee I thank. 'Tis clear To us a happy fortune leadeth thee; While I exist, still must I active be, And to the work forthwith myself would gird; Thou'rt skill'd the way to shorten.
WAGNER
Just one word! I oft have been ashamed that knowledge failed, When old and young with problems me assailed. For instance: no one yet could comprehend, How soul and body so completely blend, Together hold, as ne'er to part, while they Torment each other through the live-long day. So then—
MEPHISTOPHELES
Forbear! The problem solve for me, Why man and wife so wretchedly agree? Upon this point, my friend, thou'lt ne'er be clear; The mannikin wants work, he'll find it here.
HOMUNCULUS
What's to be done?
MEPHISTOPHELES (pointing to a side door)
Yonder thy gifts display!
WAGNER (still gazing into the phial)
A very lovely boy, I needs must say!
(The side door opens; FAUST is seen stretched upon a couch)
HOMUNCULUS (amazed)
Momentous!
(The phial slips from WAGNER's hands, hovers over FAUST, and sheds a light upon him)
Girt with beauty!—Water clear In the thick grove; fair women, who undress; Most lovely creatures!—grows their loveliness: But o'er the rest one shines without a peer, As if from heroes, nay from gods she came; In the transparent sheen her foot she laves; The tender life-fire of her noble frame She cools in yielding crystal of the waves.— Of swiftly moving wings what sudden noise? What plash, what plunge the liquid glass destroys? The maidens fly, alarmed; alone, the queen, With calm composure gazes on the scene; With womanly and proud delight, she sees The prince of swans press fondly to her knees, Persistent, tame; familiar now he grows.— But suddenly up-floats a misty shroud, And with thick-woven veil doth over-cloud The loveliest of all lovely shows.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Why thou in sooth canst everything relate! Small as thou art, as phantast thou art great. I can see nothing—
HOMUNCULUS
I believe it. Thou, Bred in the north, in the dark ages, how, In whirl of priesthood and knight-errantry, Have for such sights thy vision free! In darkness only thou'rt at home.
(Looking round)
Ye brown, repulsive blocks of stone, Arch-pointed, low, with mould o'ergrown! Should he awake, new care were bred, He on the spot would straight be dead. Wood-fountains, swans, fair nymphs undressed, Such was his dream, presageful, rare; In place like this how could he rest, Which I, of easy mood, scarce bear! Away with him!
MEPHISTOPHELES
I like your plan, proceed!
HOMUNCULUS
Command the warrior to the fight, The maiden to the dancers lead! They're satisfied, and all is right. E'en now a thought occurs, most bright; 'Tis classical Walpurgis-night—Most fortunate! It suits his bent, So bring him straightway to his element!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Of such I ne'er have heard, I frankly own.
HOMUNCULUS
Upon your ear indeed how should it fall? Only romantic ghosts to you are known; Your genuine ghost is also classical.
MEPHISTOPHELES
But whitherward to travel are we fain? Your antique colleagues are against my grain.
HOMUNCULUS
North-westward, Satan, lies thy pleasure-ground; But, this time, we to the south-east are bound.— An ample vale Peneios floweth through, 'Mid bush and tree its curving shores it laves; The plain extendeth to the mountain caves, Above it lies Pharsalus, old and new.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Alas! Forbear! For ever be eschewed Those wars of tyranny and servitude! I'm bored with them: for they, as soon as done, Straight recommence; and no one calls to mind That he in sooth is only played upon By Asmodeus, who still lurks behind. They battle, so 'tis said, for freedom's rights— More clearly seen, 'tis slave 'gainst slave who fights.
HOMUNCULUS
Leave we to men their nature, quarrel-prone! Each must defend himself, as best he can, From boyhood up; so he becomes a man. The question here is, how to cure this one?
(Pointing to FAUST)
Hast thou a means, here let it tested be; Canst thou do naught, then leave the task to me.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Full many a Brocken-piece I might essay, But bolts of heathendom foreclose the way. The Grecian folk were ne'er worth much, 'tis true, Yet with the senses' play they dazzle you; To cheerful sins the human heart they lure, While ours are reckoned gloomy and obscure. And now what next?
HOMUNCULUS
Of old thou wert not shy; And if I name Thessalian witches,—why, I something shall have said,—of that I'm sure.
MEPHISTOPHELES (lustfully)
Thessalian witches—well! the people they Concerning whom I often have inquired. Night after night, indeed, with them to stay, That were an ordeal not to be desired; But for a trial trip—
HOMUNCULUS
The mantle there Reach hither, wrap it round the knight! As heretofore, the rag will bear Both him and thee; the way I'll light.
WAGNER (alarmed)
And I?
HOMUNCULUS
At home thou wilt remain, Thee most important work doth there detain; The ancient scrolls unfolding cull Life's elements, as taught by rule, And each with other then combine with care; Upon the What, more on the How, reflect! Meanwhile as through a piece of world I fare, I may the dot upon the "I" detect. Then will the mighty aim accomplish'd be; Such high reward deserves such striving;—wealth, Honor and glory, lengthen'd life, sound health, Knowledge withal and virtue—possibly. Farewell!
WAGNER
Farewell! That grieves my heart full sore! I fear indeed I ne'er shall see thee more.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Now to Peneios forth we wend! We must not slight our cousin's aid.
(To the spectators)
At last, in sooth, we all depend On creatures we ourselves have made.
* * * * *
ACT THE THIRD
BEFORE THE PALACE OF MENELAUS IN SPARTA
Enter HELENA, with a chorus of captive Trojan women PENTHALIS, leader of the chorus
HELENA
The much admired and much upbraided, Helena, From yonder strand I come, where erst we disembark'd, Still giddy from the roll of ocean's billowy surge, Which, through Poseidon's favor and through Euros' might, On lofty crested backs hither hath wafted us, From Phrygia's open field, to our ancestral bays. Yonder King Menelaus, glad of his return, With his brave men of war, rejoices on the beach. But oh, thou lofty mansion, bid me welcome home, Thou, near the steep decline, which Tyndareus, my sire, From Pallas' hill returning, here hath builded up; Which also was adorned beyond all Sparta's homes, What time with Clytemnestra, sister-like, I grew, With Castor, Pollux, too, playing in joyous sport. Wings of yon brazen portals, you I also hail! Through you, ye guest-inviting, hospitable gates, Hath Menelaus once, from many princes chosen, Shone radiant on my sight, in nuptial sort arrayed. Expand to me once more, that I the king's behest May faithfully discharge, as doth the spouse beseem. Let me within, and all henceforth behind remain, That, charged with doom, till now darkly hath round me stormed! For since, by care untroubled, I these sites forsook, Seeking Cythera's fane, as sacred wont enjoined, And by the spoiler there was seized, the Phrygian, Happened have many things, whereof men far and wide Are fain to tell, but which not fain to hear is he Of whom the tale, expanding, hath to fable grown.
CHORUS
Disparage not, oh glorious dame, Honor'd possession of highest estate! For sole unto thee is the greatest boon given; The fame of beauty that all over-towers! The hero's name before him resounds, So strides he with pride; Nathless at once the stubbornest yields To beauty, the presence which all things subdues.
HELENA
Enough! I with my spouse, ship-borne, have hither sped, And to his city now by him before am sent. But what the thought he harbors, that I cannot guess. Come I as consort hither? Come I as a queen? Come I as victim for the prince's bitter pangs, And for the evils dire, long suffered by the Greeks? Conquered I am; but whether captive, know I not: For the Immortal Powers fortune and fame for me Have doomed ambiguous; direful ministers that wait On beauty's form, who even on this threshold here, With dark and threat'ning mien, stand bodeful at my side! Already, ere we left the hollow ship, my spouse Looked seldom on me, spake no comfortable word; As though he mischief brooded, facing me he sat. But now, when to Eurotas' deeply curving shores Steering our course, scarce had our foremost vessel's beak The land saluted, spake he, as by God inspired: "Here let my men of war, in ordered ranks, disbark; I marshal them, drawn up upon the ocean strand; But thou, pursue thy way, not swerving from the banks, Laden with fruit, that bound Eurotas' sacred stream, Thy coursers guiding o'er the moist enamelled meads, Until thou may'st arrive at that delightful plain, Where Lacedaemon, once a broad fruit-bearing field, By mountains stern surrounded lifteth now its walls. Set thou thy foot within the tower-crown'd princely house, Assemble thou the maids, whom I at parting left, And with them summon too the wise old stewardess. Bid her display to thee the treasures' ample store, As by thy sire bequeathed, and which, in peace and war, Increasing evermore, I have myself up-piled. All standing shalt thou find in ancient order; for, This is the prince's privilege, that to his home, When he returns at last, safe everything he finds, Each in its proper place, as he hath left it there. For nothing of himself the slave hath power to change."
CHORUS
Oh gladden now, with glorious wealth, Ever increasing, thine eye and heart! For beautiful chains, the adornment of crowns, Are priding themselves, in haughty repose; But step thou in, and challenge them all, They arm themselves straight; I joy to see beauty contend for the prize, With gold, and with pearls, and with jewels of price.
HELENA
Forthwith hath followed next this mandate of my lord: "Now when in order thou all things hast duly seen, As many tripods take, as needful thou may'st deem, And vessels manifold, which he at hand requires, Who duly would perform the sacrificial rite, The caldrons, and the bowls, and shallow altar-plates; Let purest water, too, from sacred fount be there, In lofty pitchers; further, store of season'd wood, Quick to accept the flame, hold thou in readiness; A knife, of sharpest edge, let it not fail at last. But I all other things to thy sole care resign." So spake he, urging me at once to part; but naught, Breathing the breath of life, the orderer appoints, That, to the Olympians' honor, he to slaughter doom'd: Suspicious seems it! yet, dismiss I further care; To the high Gods' decree be everything referred, Who evermore fulfil, what they in thought conceive; It may, in sooth, by men, as evil or as good Be counted, it by us, poor mortals, must be borne. Full oft the ponderous axe on high the priest hath raised, In consecration o'er the earth-bowed victim's neck. Nor could achieve the rite, for he was hindered, Or by approaching foe, or intervening God.
CHORUS
What now will happen, canst thou not guess; Enter, queen, enter thou in, Strong of heart! Evil cometh and good Unexpected to mortals; Though foretold, we credit it not. Troya was burning, have we not seen Death before us, terrible death! And are we not here, Bound to thee, serving with joy, Seeing the dazzling sunshine of heaven, And of earth too the fairest, Kind one—thyself—happy are we!
HELENA
Come what come may! Whate'er impends, me it behoves To ascend, without delay, into the royal house, Long missed, oft yearned-for, well-nigh forfeited; Before mine eyes once more it stands, I know not how. My feet now bear me not so lightly as of yore, When up the lofty steps I, as a child, have sprung.
CHORUS
Fling now, O sisters, ye Captives who mourn your lot, All your sorrows far from you. Share ye your mistress' joy! Share ye Helena's joy, Who to the dear paternal hearth, Though returning full late in sooth, Nathless with surer, firmer tread Joyfully now approaches! Praise ye the holy ones, Happy restoring ones, God's, the home-leaders, praise ye! Soars the enfranchised one, As upon out-spread wings, Over the roughest fate, while in vain Pines the captured one, yearning-fraught Over the prison-battlements Arms out-stretching, in anguish.
Nathless her a god hath seized, The exiled one, And from Ilion's wreck Bare her hitherward back once more, To the ancient, the newly-adorned Father-house, After unspeakable Pleasure and anguish, Earlier youthful time, Newly quicken'd, to ponder.
PENTHALIS (as leader of the chorus)
Forsake ye now of song the joy-surrounded path, As toward the portal-wings turn ye forthwith your gaze! What see I, sisters? Here, returneth not the queen? With step of eager haste, comes she not back to us?— What is it, mighty queen, that in the palace-halls, Instead of friendly hail, could there encounter thee, And shatter thus thy being? Thou conceal'st it not; For I abhorrence see, impressed upon thy brow, And noble anger, that contendeth with surprise.
HELENA (who has left the folded doors open, excited)
No vulgar fear beseems the daughter of high Zeus, And her no lightly-fleeting terror-hand may touch; But that dire horror which, from womb of ancient Night, In time primeval rising, still in divers shapes, Like lurid clouds, from out the mountain's fiery gorge, Whirls itself forth, may shake even the hero's breast. Thus have the Stygian Gods, with horror fraught, today Mine entrance to the house so marked, that fain I am, Back from the oft-time trod, long-yearned-for threshold now, Like to a guest dismissed, departing, to retire. Yet no, retreated have I hither to the light; No further shall ye drive me, Powers, who'er ye be! Some expiation, I'll devise, then purified, The hearth-flame welcome may the consort as the lord.
LEADER OF THE CHORUS
Discover, noble queen, to us thy handmaidens, Devotedly who serve thee, what hath come to pass!
HELENA
What I have seen ye, too, with your own eyes, shall see, If ancient Night, within her wonder-teeming womb, Hath not forthwith engulfed, once more, her ghastly birth; But yet, that ye may know, with words I'll tell it you:— What time the royal mansion's gloomy inner court, Upon my task intent, with solemn step I trod, I wondered at the drear and silent corridors. Fell on mine ear no sound of busy servitors, No stir of rapid haste, officious, met my gaze; Before me there appeared no maid, no stewardess, Who every stranger erst, with friendly greeting, hailed. But when I neared at length the bosom of the hearth, There saw I, by the light of dimly smouldering fire, Crouched on the ground, a crone, close-veiled, of stature huge, Not like to one asleep, but as absorbed in thought! With accent of command I summon her to work, The stewardess in her surmising, who perchance My spouse, departing hence, with foresight there had placed; Yet, closely muted up, still sits she, motionless; At length, upon my threat, up-lifts she her right arm, As though from hearth and hall she motioned me away. Wrathful from her I turn, and forthwith hasten out, Toward the steps, whereon aloft the Thalamos Rises adorned, thereto the treasure-house hard by; When, on a sudden, starts the wonder from the floor; Barring with lordly mien my passage, she herself In haggard height displays, with hollow eyes, blood-grimed, An aspect weird and strange, confounding eye and thought. Yet speak I to the winds; for language all in vain Creatively essays to body forth such shapes. There see herself! The light she ventures to confront! Here are we master, till the lord and monarch comes; The ghastly brood of Night doth Phoebus, beauty's friend, Back to their caverns drive, or them he subjugates.
[PHORKYAS stepping on the threshold, between the door-posts.]
CHORUS
Much have I lived through, although my tresses Youthfully waver still round my temples; Manifold horrors have mine eyes witnessed; Warfare's dire anguish, Ilion's night, When it fell;
Through the o'erclouded, dust over-shadow'd Tumult of war, to gods have I hearken'd, Fearfully shouting; hearken'd while discord's Brazen voices clang through the field Rampart-wards.
Ah, yet standing were Ilion's Ramparts; nathless the glowing flames Shot from neighbor to neighbor roof, Ever spreading from here and there, with their tempest's fiery blast, Over the night-darkened city.—
Flying, saw I through smoke and glare, And the flash of the tongued flames, Dreadful, threatening gods draw near; Wondrous figures, of giant mould, Onward striding through the weird Gloom of fire-luminous vapor.
Saw I them, or did my mind, Anguish-torn, itself body forth Phantoms so terrible—never more Can I tell; but that I this Horrible shape with eyes behold, This of a surety know I! Yea, with my hands could clutch it even, Did not fear, from the perilous Venture, ever withhold me.
Tell me, of Phorkyas' Daughters which art thou? For to that family Thee must I liken. Art thou, may be, one of the gray-born? One eye only, and but one tooth Using still alternately? One of the Graiae art thou? Darest thou, Horror, Thus beside beauty, Or to the searching glance Phoebus' unveil thee? Nathless step thou forward undaunted; For the horrible sees he not, As his hallowed glances yet Never gazed upon shadows.
But a tragical fate, alas, Us, poor mortals, constrains to bear Anguish of vision, unspeakable, Which the contemptible, ever-detestable, Doth in lovers of beauty wake!
Yea, so hearken then, if thou dar'st Us to encounter, hear our curse, Hark to each imprecation's threat, Out of the curse-breathing lips of the happy ones, Who by the gods created are!
PHORKYAS
Trite is the word, yet high and true remains the sense: That Shame and Beauty ne'er together, hand in hand, Their onward way pursue, earth's verdant path along. Deep-rooted in these twain dwelleth an ancient grudge, So that, where'er they happen on their way to meet, Upon her hated rival turneth each her back; Then onward speeds her course with greater vehemence, Shame filled with sorrow, Beauty insolent of mood, Till her at length embraces Orcus' hollow night, Unless old age erewhile her haughtiness hath tamed. You find I now, ye wantons, from a foreign shore, With insolence o'erflowing, like the clamorous flight Of cranes, with shrilly scream that high above our heads, A long and moving cloud, croaking send down their noise, Which the lone pilgrim lures wending his silent way, Aloft to turn his gaze; yet on their course they fare, He also upon his: so will it be with us.
Who are ye then, that thus around the monarch's house, With Maenad rage, ye dare like drunken ones to rave? Who are ye then that ye the house's stewardess Thus bay, like pack of hounds hoarsely that bay the moon? Think ye, 'tis hid from me, the race whereof ye are? Thou youthful, war-begotten, battle-nurtured brood, Lewd and lascivious thou, seducers and seduced, Unnerving both, the soldier's and the burgher's strength! Seeing your throng, to me a locust-swarm ye seem, Which, settling down, conceals the young green harvest-field. Wasters of others' toil! ye dainty revellers, Destroyers in its bloom of all prosperity! Thou conquer'd merchandise, exchanged and marketed!
HELENA
Who in the mistress' presence chides her handmaidens, Audacious, doth o'erstep her household privilege; For her alone beseems, the praise-worthy to praise, As also that to punish which doth merit blame. Moreover with the service am I well-content, Which these have rendered me, what time proud Ilion's strength Beleaguer'd stood, and fell and sank; nor less indeed When we, of our sea-voyage the dreary changeful woe Endured, where commonly each thinks but of himself. Here also I expect the like from this blithe train; Not what the servant is, we ask, but how he serves. Therefore be silent thou, and snarl at them no more! If thou the monarch's house till now hast guarded well, Filling the mistress' place, that for thy praise shall count; But now herself is come, therefore do thou retire, Lest chastisement be thine, instead of well-earn'd meed!
PHORKYAS
The menial train to threat, a sacred right remains, Which the illustrious spouse of heaven-favor'd lord Through many a year doth earn of prudent governance. Since that, now recognized, thy ancient place as queen, And mistress of the house, once more thou dost resume, The long-time loosen'd reins grasp thou; be ruler here, And in possession take the treasures, us with them! Me before all protect, who am the elder-born, From this young brood, who seem, thy swan-like beauty near, But as a basely winged flock of cackling geese!
LEADER OF THE CHORUS
How hideous beside beauty showeth hideousness!
PHORKYAS
How foolish by discretion's side shows foolishness!
[Henceforth the choristers respond in turn, stepping forth singly from the chorus.]
FIRST CHORISTER
Tell us of Father Erebus, tell us of Mother Night!
PHORKYAS
Speak thou of Scylla, speak of her, thy sister-born!
SECOND CHORISTER
From thy ancestral tree springs many a monster forth.
PHORKYAS
To Orcus hence, away! Seek thou thy kindred there!
THIRD CHORISTER
Who yonder dwell, in sooth, for thee are far too young.
PHORKYAS
Tiresias, the hoary, go, make love to him!
FOURTH CHORISTER
Orion's nurse of old, was thy great-grand-daughter.
PHORKYAS
Harpies, so I suspect, did rear thee up in filth.
FIFTH CHORISTER
Thy cherished meagreness, whereon dost nourish that?
PHORKYAS
'Tis not with blood, for which so keenly thou dost thirst.
SIXTH CHORISTER
For corpses dost thou hunger, loathsome corpse thyself!
PHORKYAS
Within thy shameless jaw the teeth of vampires gleam.
SEVENTH CHORISTER
Thine I should stop were I to tell thee who thou art.
PHORKYAS
First do thou name thyself; the riddle then is solved.
HELENA
Not wrathful, but in grief, step I between you now, Forbidding such alternate quarrel's angry noise; For to the ruler naught more hurtful can befall, Than, 'mong his trusty servants, sworn and secret strife; The echo of his mandate then to him no more In swift accomplished deed responsively returns; No, stormful and self-will'd, it rages him around, The self-bewilder'd one, and chiding still in vain. Nor this alone; ye have in rude unmanner'd wrath Unblessed images of dreadful shapes evoked, Which so encompass me, that whirl'd I feel myself To Orcus down, despite these my ancestral fields. Is it remembrance? Was it frenzy seized on me? Was I all that? and am I? shall I henceforth be The dread and phantom-shape of those town-wasting ones? The maidens quail: but thou, the eldest, thou dost stand, Calm and unmoved; speak, then, to me some word of sense!
PHORKYAS
Who of long years recalls the fortune manifold, To him heaven's highest favor seems at last a dream. But thou, so highly favored, past all bound or goal, Saw'st, in thy life-course, none but love-inflamed men, Kindled by impulse rash to boldest enterprise. Theseus by passion stirred full early seized on thee, A man of glorious form, and strong as Heracles.
HELENA
Forceful he bore me off, a ten-year slender roe, And in Aphidnus' keep shut me, in Attica.
PHORKYAS
But thence full soon set free, by Castor, Pollux too, In marriage wast thou sought by chosen hero-band.
HELENA
Yet hath Patroclus, he, Pelides' other self, My secret favor won, as willingly I own.
PHORKYAS
But thee thy father hath to Menelaus wed, Bold rover of the sea, and house-sustainer too.
HELENA
His daughter gave he, gave to him the kingdom's sway; And from our wedded union sprang Hermione.
PHORKYAS
But while he strove afar, for Crete, his heritage, To thee, all lonely, came an all too beauteous guest.
HELENA
Wherefore the time recall of that half-widowhood, And what destruction dire to me therefrom hath grown!
PHORKYAS
That voyage unto me, a free-born dame of Crete, Hath also capture brought, and weary servitude.
HELENA
As stewardess forthwith, he did appoint thee here, With much intrusted,—fort and treasure boldly won.
PHORKYAS
All which thou didst forsake, by Ilion's tower-girt town Allured, and by the joys, the exhaustless joys of love.
HELENA
Remind me not of joys: No, an infinitude Of all too bitter woe o'erwhelm'd my heart and brain.
PHORKYAS
Nathless 'tis said thou didst in two-fold shape appear; Seen within Ilion's walls, and seen in Egypt too.
HELENA
Confuse thou not my brain, distraught and desolate! Here even, who I am in sooth I cannot tell.
PHORKYAS
'Tis also said, from out the hollow shadow-dream, Achilles, passion-fired, hath joined himself to thee, Whom he hath loved of old, 'gainst all resolves of Fate.
HELENA
As phantom I myself, to him a phantom bound; A dream it was—thus e'en the very words declare. I faint, and to myself a phantom I become. [She sinks into the arms of the semi-chorus._]
CHORUS
Silence! Silence! False seeing one, false speaking one, thou! Through thy horrible, single-tooth'd lips, Ghastly, what exhaleth From such terrible loathsome gulf! For the malignant one, kindliness feigning, Rage of wolf 'neath the sheep's woolly fleece, Far more terrible is unto me than Jaws of the hound three-headed. Anxiously watching stand we here: When? How? Where of such malice Bursteth the tempest From this deep-lurking brood of Hell? Now, 'stead of friendly words, freighted with comfort, Lethe-bestowing, gracious and mild, Thou art summoning from times departed, Thoughts of the past most hateful, Overshadowing not alone All sheen gilding the present, Also the future's Mildly glimmering light of hope.
Silence! Silence! That fair Helena's soul, Ready e'en now to take flight, Still may keep, yea firmly keep The form of all forms, the loveliest, Ever illumined of old by the sun.
[HELENA has revived, and again stands in the midst.]
* * * * *
(The scene is entirely changed. Close arbors recline against a series of rocky caverns. A shady grove extends to the base of the encircling rocks. FAUST and HELENA are not seen. The CHORUS lies sleeping, scattered here and there.)
PHORKYAS
How long these maids have slept, in sooth I cannot tell; Or whether they have dreamed what I before mine eyes Saw bright and clear, to me is equally unknown. So wake I them. Amazed the younger folks shall be, Ye too, ye bearded ones, who sit below and wait, Hoping to see at length these miracles resolved. Arise! Arise! And shake quickly your crisped locks! Shake slumber from your eyes! Blink not, and list to me!
CHORUS
Only speak, relate, and tell us, what of wonderful hath chanced! We more willingly shall hearken that which we cannot believe; For we are aweary, weary, gazing on these rocks around.
PHORKYAS
Children, how, already weary, though you scarce have rubbed your eyes? Hearken then! Within these caverns, in these grottoes, in these bowers, Shield and shelter have been given, as to lover-twain idyllic, To our lord and to our lady—
CHORUS How, within there?
PHORKYAS Yea, secluded From the world; and me, me only, they to secret service called. Highly honored stood I near them, yet, as one in trust beseemeth, Round I gazed on other objects, turning hither, turning thither, Sought for roots, for barks and mosses, with their properties acquainted; And they thus remained alone.
CHORUS
Thou would'st make believe that yonder, world-wide spaces lie within, Wood and meadow, lake and brooklet; what strange fable spinnest thou!
PHORKYAS
Yea, in sooth, ye inexperienced, there lie regions undiscovered: Hall on hall, and court on court; in my musings these I track. Suddenly a peal of laughter echoes through the cavern'd spaces; In I gaze, a boy is springing from the bosom of the woman To the man, from sire to mother: the caressing and the fondling, All love's foolish playfulnesses, mirthful cry and shout of rapture, Alternating, deafen me. Naked, without wings, a genius, like a faun, with nothing bestial, On the solid ground he springeth; but the ground, with counter-action, Up to ether sends him flying; with the second, third rebounding Touches he the vaulted roof. Anxiously the mother calleth: Spring amain, and at thy pleasure; But beware, think not of flying, unto thee is flight denied. And so warns the faithful father: In the earth the force elastic Lies, aloft that sends thee bounding; let thy toe but touch the surface, Like the son of earth, Antaeus, straightway is thy strength renewed. And so o'er these rocky masses, on from dizzy ledge to ledge, Leaps he ever, hither, thither, springing like a stricken ball. But in cleft of rugged cavern suddenly from sight he vanished; And now lost to us he seemeth, mother waileth, sire consoleth, Anxiously I shrug my shoulders. But again, behold, what vision! Lie there treasures hidden yonder? Raiment broidered o'er with flowers He becomingly hath donned; Tassels from his arms are waving, ribbons flutter on his bosom, In his hand the lyre all-golden, wholly like a tiny Phoebus, Boldly to the edge he steppeth, to the precipice; we wonder, And the parents, full of rapture, cast them on each other's heart; For around his brow what splendor! Who can tell what there is shining? Gold-work is it, or the flaming of surpassing spirit-power? Thus he moveth, with such gesture, e'en as boy himself announcing Future master of all beauty, through whose limbs, whose every member, Flow the melodies eternal: and so shall ye hearken to him, And so shall ye gaze upon him, to your special wonderment.
CHORUS
This call'st thou marvelous, Daughter of Creta? Unto the bard's pregnant word Hast thou perchance never listened? Hast thou not heard of Ionia's, Ne'er been instructed in Hellas' Legends, from ages primeval, Godlike, heroical treasure? All, that still happeneth Now in the present, Sorrowful echo 'tis, Of days ancestral, more noble; Equals not in sooth thy story That which beautiful fiction, Than truth more worthy of credence, Chanted hath of Maia's offspring! This so shapely and potent, yet Scarcely-born delicate nursling, Straight have his gossiping nurses Folded in purest swaddling fleece, Fastened in costly swathings, With their irrational notions. Potent and shapely, ne'ertheless, Draws the rogue his flexible limbs, Body firm yet elastic, Craftily forth; the purple shell, Him so grievously binding, Leaving quietly in its place; As the perfected butterfly, From the rigid chrysalid, Pinion unfolding, rapidly glides, Boldly and wantonly sailing through Sun-impregnated ether.
So he, too, the most dextrous, That to robbers and scoundrels, Yea, and to all profit-seekers, He a favoring god might be, This he straightway made manifest, Using arts the most cunning. Swift from the ruler of ocean he Steals the trident, yea, e'en from Ares Steals the sword from the scabbard; Arrow and bow from Phoebus too, Also his tongs from Hephaestos Even Zeus', the father's, bolt, Him had fire not scared, he had ta'en. Eros also worsted he, In limb-grappling, wrestling match; Stole from Cypria as she caressed him, From her bosom, the girdle.
(An exquisite, purely melodious lyre-music resounds from the cave. All become attentive, and appear soon to be inwardly moved; henceforth, to the pause indicated, there is a full musical accompaniment.)
PHORKYAS
Hark those notes so sweetly sounding; Cast aside your fabled lore: Gods, in olden time abounding,— Let them go! their day is o'er.
None will comprehend your singing; Nobler theme the age requires: From the heart must flow, up-springing, What to touch the heart aspires. [She retires behind the rock.]
CHORUS
To these tones, so sweetly flowing, Dire one! dost incline thine ears, They in us, new health bestowing, Waken now the joy of tears.
Vanish may the sun's clear shining, In our soul if day arise, In our heart we, unrepining, Find what the whole world denies.
(HELENA, FAUST, EUPHORION in the costume indicated above)
EUPHORION
Songs of childhood hear ye ringing, Your own mirth it seems; on me Gazing, thus in measure springing, Leap your parent-hearts with glee.
HELENA
Love, terrestrial bliss to capture, Two in noble union mates; But to wake celestial rapture, He a precious three creates.
FAUST
All hath been achieved. For ever I am thine, and mine thou art, Blent our beings are—oh never May our present joy depart!
CHORUS
Many a year of purest pleasure, In the mild light of their boy, Crowns this pair in richest measure. Me their union thrills with joy!
EUPHORION
Now let me gambol, Joyfully springing! Upward to hasten Through ether winging, This wakes my yearning, This prompts me now!
FAUST
Gently! son, gently! Be not so daring! Lest ruin seize thee Past all repairing, And our own darling Whelm us in woe!
EUPHORION
From earth my spirit Still upward presses; Let go my hands now, Let go my tresses, Let go my garments, Mine every one!
HELENA
To whom, bethink thee, Now thou pertainest! Think how it grieves us When thou disdainest Mine, thine, and his,—the all That hath been won.
CHORUS
Soon shall, I fear me, The bond be undone!
HELENA and FAUST
Curb for thy parents' sake, To us returning, Curb thy importunate Passionate yearning! Make thou the rural plain Tranquil and bright.
EUPHORION
But to content you Stay I my flight.
(Winding among the CHORUS and drawing them forth to dance)
Round this gay troop I flee With impulse light. Say is the melody, Say is the movement right?
HELENA
Yea, 'tis well done; advance, Lead to the graceful dance These maidens coy!
FAUST
Could I the end but see! Me this mad revelry Fills with annoy.
EUPHORION and the CHORUS
(Dancing and singing, they move about in interweaving lines)
Moving thine arms so fair With graceful motion, Tossing thy curling hair In bright commotion; When thou with foot so light Over the earth doth skim, Thither and back in flight, Moving each graceful limb; Thou hast attained thy goal, Beautiful child, All hearts thou hast beguiled, Won every soul. [Pause.]
EUPHORION
Gracefully sporting, Light-footed roes, New frolic courting Scorn ye repose: I am the hunter, Ye are the game.
CHORUS
Us wilt thou capture, Urge not thy pace; For it were rapture Thee to embrace, Beautiful creature, This our sole aim!
EUPHORION
Through trees and heather, Bound all together, O'er stock and stone! Whate'er is lightly won, That I disdain; What I by force obtain, Prize I alone.
HELENA and FAUST
What vagaries, sense confounding! Naught of measure to be hoped for! Like the blare of trumpet sounding, Over vale and forest ringing. What a riot! What a cry!
CHORUS (entering quickly one by one)
Us he passed with glance scorn-laden; Hastily still onward springing, Bearing now the wildest maiden Of our troop, he draweth nigh.
EUPHORION (bearing a young maiden)
I this wilful maid and coy Carry to enforced caress; For my pleasure, for my joy Her resisting bosom press, Kiss her rebel lips, that so She my power and will may know.
MAIDEN
Loose me! in this frame residing, Burns a spirit's strength and might; Strong as thine, our will presiding Swerveth not with purpose light. Thinkest, on thy strength relying, That thou hast me in a strait? Hold me, fool! thy strength defying, For my sport, I'll scorch thee yet! [She flames up and flashes into the air.]
Follow where light breezes wander, Follow to rude caverns yonder, Strive thy vanish'd prey to net!
EUPHORION (shaking off the last flames)
Rocks all around I see, Thickets and woods among! Why should they prison me? Still am I fresh and young. Tempests, they loudly roar, Billows, they lash the shore; Both far away I hear; Would I were near! [He springs higher up the rock.]
HELENA, FAUST, and CHORUS
Wouldst thou chamois-like aspire? Us thy threaten'd fall dismays!
EUPHORION
Higher must I climb, yet higher, Wider still must be my gaze. Know I now, where I stand: 'Midst of the sea-girt land, 'Midst of great Pelops' reign, Kin both to earth and main.
CHORUS
Canst not near copse and wold Tarry, then yonder, Ripe figs and apple-gold Seeking, we'll wander; Grapes too shall woo our hand, Grapes from the mantling vine. Ah, let this dearest land, Dear one, be thine!
EUPHORION
Dream ye of peaceful day? Dream on, while dream ye may! War! is the signal cry, Hark! cries of victory!
CHORUS
War who desireth While peace doth reign, To joy aspireth Henceforth in vain.
EUPHORION
All whom this land hath bred, Through peril onward led, Free, of undaunted mood, Still lavish of their blood, With soul untaught to yield, Rending each chain! To such the bloody field, Brings glorious gain.
CHORUS
High he soars,—mark, upward gazing,— And to us not small doth seem: Victor-like, in harness blazing, As of steel and brass the gleam!
EUPHORION
Not on moat or wall relying, On himself let each one rest! Firmest stronghold, all defying, Ever is man's iron breast!
Dwell for aye unconquered would ye? Arm, by no vain dreams beguiled! Amazons your women should be, And a hero every child!
CHORUS
O hallowed Poesie, Heavenward still soareth she! Shine on, thou brightest star, Farther and still more far! Yet us she still doth cheer; Even her voice to hear, Joyful we are.
EUPHORION
Child no more; a stripling bearing Arms appears, with valor fraught Leagued with the strong, the free, the daring, In soul already who hath wrought. Hence away! No delay! There where glory may be sought.
HELENA and FAUST
Scarcely summoned to life's gladness, Scarcely given to day's bright gleam, Downward now to pain and sadness Wouldst thou rush, from heights supreme! Are then we Naught to thee? Is our gracious bond a dream?
EUPHORION
Hark! What thunders seaward rattle, Echoing from vale to vale! 'Mid dust and foam, in shock of battle, Throng on throng, to grief and bale! And the command Is, firm to stand; Death to face, nor ever quail.
HELENA, FAUST, and CHORUS
Oh what horror! Hast thou told it! Is then death for thee decreed?
EUPHORION
From afar shall I behold it? No! I'll share the care and need!
HELENA, FAUST and CHORUS
Rashness to peril brings, And deadly fate!
EUPHORION
Yet—see a pair of wings Unfoldeth straight! Thither—I must, I must— Grudge not my flight!
[He casts himself into the air; his garments support him for a moment; his head flames, a trail of light follows him.]
CHORUS
Icarus! Icarus! Oh woeful sight!
(A beautiful youth falls at the parents' feet; we imagine that in the dead we recognize a well-known form; yet suddenly the corporeal part vanishes; the aureole rises like a comet to heaven; dress, mantle, and lyre remain lying on the ground.)
HELENA and FAUST
Follows on joy new-born Anguishful moan!
EUPHORION'S VOICE, (from the depths)
Leave me in realms forlorn, Mother, not all alone! [Pause.]
CHORUS (dirge)
Not alone—for hope we cherish, Where thou bidest thee to know! Ah, from daylight though thou perish, Ne'er a heart will let thee go! Scarce we venture to bewail thee, Envying we sing thy fate: Did sunshine cheer, or storm assail thee, Song and heart were fair and great.
Earthly fortune was thy dower, Lofty lineage, ample might, Ah, too early lost, thy flower Withered by untimely blight! Glance was thine the world discerning, Sympathy with every wrong, Woman's love for thee still yearning, And thine own enchanting song.
Yet the beaten path forsaking, Thou didst run into the snare; So with law and usage breaking, On thy wilful course didst fare; Yet at last high thought has given To thy noble courage weight, For the loftiest thou has striven— It to win was not thy fate.
Who does win it? Unreplying, Destiny the question hears, When the bleeding people lying, Dumb with grief, no cry uprears!— Now new songs chant forth, in sorrow Deeply bowed lament no more; Them the earth brings forth tomorrow, As she brought them forth of yore!
[Full pause. The music ceases.]
* * * * *
ACT THE FIFTH
OPEN COUNTRY
WANDERER
Yes, 'tis they, their branches rearing, Hoary lindens, strong in age;— There I find them, reappearing, After my long pilgrimage! 'Tis the very spot;—how gladly Yonder hut once more I see, By the billows raging madly, Cast ashore, which sheltered me! My old hosts, I fain would greet them, Helpful they, an honest pair; May I hope today to meet them? Even then they aged were. Worthy folk, in God believing! Shall I knock? or raise my voice? Hail to you if, guest receiving, In good deeds ye still rejoice!
BAUCIS (a very aged woman)
Stranger dear, beware of breaking My dear husband's sweet repose! Strength for brief and feeble waking Lengthened sleep on age bestows.
WANDERER
Mother, say then, do I find thee, To receive my thanks once more, In my youth who didst so kindly, With thy spouse, my life restore? Baucis, to my lips half-dying, Art thou, who refreshment gave? [The husband steps forth.]
Thou Philemon, strength who plying, Snatched my treasure from the wave? By your flames, so promptly kindled, By your bell's clear silver sound— That adventure, horror-mingled, Hath a happy issue found. Forward let me step, and gazing Forth upon the boundless main, Kneel, and thankful prayers upraising, Ease of my full heart the strain!
[He walks forward upon the downs.]
PHILEMON (to BAUCIS)
Haste to spread the table, under The green leafage of our trees. Let him run, struck dumb with wonder, Scarce he'll credit what he sees.
[He follows the wanderer. Standing beside him.]
Where the billows did maltreat you, Wave on wave in fury rolled, There a garden now doth greet you, Fair as Paradise of old. Grown more aged, as when stronger, I could render aid no more; And, as waned my strength, no longer Rolled the sea upon the shore; Prudent lords, bold serfs directing, It with trench and dyke restrained; Ocean's rights no more respecting, Lords they were, where he had reigned. See, green meadows far extending;— Garden, village, woodland, plain. But return we, homeward wending, For the sun begins to wane. In the distance sails are gliding, Nightly they to port repair; Bird-like, in their nests confiding, For a haven waits them there. Far away mine eye discerneth First the blue fringe of the main; Right and left, where'er it turneth, Spreads the thickly-peopled plain.
IN THE GARDEN
The three at table
BAUCIS (to the stranger)
Art thou dumb? No morsel raising To thy famished lips?
PHILEMON
I trow, He of wonders so amazing Fain would hear; inform him thou.
BAUCIS
There was wrought a wonder truly, Yet no rest it leaves to me; Naught in the affair was duly Done, as honest things should be!
PHILEMON
Who as sinful can pronounce it? 'Twas the emperor gave the shore;— Did the trumpet not announce it As the herald passed our door? Footing firm they first have planted Near these downs. Tents, huts, appeared; O'er the green, the eye, enchanted, Saw ere long a palace reared.
BAUCIS
Shovel, axe, no labor sparing, Vainly plied the men by day; Where the fires at night shone flaring, Stood a dam, in morning's ray. Still from human victims bleeding, Wailing sounds were nightly borne; Seaward sped the flames, receding; A canal appeared at morn! Godless is he, naught respecting; Covets he our grove, our cot; Though our neighbor, us subjecting, Him to serve will be our lot.
PHILEMON
Yet he bids, our claims adjusting, Homestead fair in his new land.
BAUCIS
Earth, from water saved, mistrusting, On thine own height take thy stand.
PHILEMON
Let us, to the chapel wending, Watch the sun's last rays subside; Let us ring, and prayerful bending, In our father's God confide!
PALACE
Spacious ornamental garden; broad, straight canal. FAUST in extreme old age, walking about, meditating.
LYNCEUS, THE WARDER (through a speaking trumpet)
The sun sinks down, the ships belated Rejoicing to the haven steer. A stately galley, deeply freighted, On the canal, now draweth near; Her chequer'd flag the breeze caresses The masts unbending bear the sails: Thee now the grateful seaman blesses, Thee at this moment Fortune hails. [The bell rings on the downs.]
FAUST (starting)
Accursed bell! Its clamor sending, Like spiteful shot it wounds mine ear! Before me lies my realm unending; Vexation dogs me in the rear; For I, these envious chimes still hearing, Must at my narrow bounds repine; The linden grove, brown but thence peering, The moldering church, these are not mine. Refreshment seek I, there repairing? Another's shadow chills my heart, A thorn, nor foot nor vision sparing,— O far from hence could I depart!
WARDER (as above)
How, wafted by the evening gales, Blithely the painted galley sails; On its swift course, how richly stored! Chest, coffer, sack, are heaped aboard. A splendid galley, richly and brilliantly laden with the produce of foreign climes.
MEPHISTOPHELES. THE THREE MIGHTY COMRADES
CHORUS
Here do we land, Here are we now. Hail to our lord; Our patron, thou!
(They disembark. The goods are brought ashore.)
MEPHISTOPHELES
So have we proved our worth—content If we our patron's praises earn: With but two ships abroad we went, With twenty we to port return. By our rich lading all may see The great successes we have wrought. Free ocean makes the spirit free: There claims compunction ne'er a thought! A rapid grip there needs alone; A fish, a ship, on both we seize. Of three if we the lordship own, Straightway we hook a fourth with ease, Then is the fifth in sorry plight— Who hath the power, has still the right; The What is asked for, not the How. Else know I not the seaman's art: War, commerce, piracy, I trow, A trinity, we may not part.
THE THREE MIGHTY COMRADES
No thank and hail; No hail and thank! As were our cargo Vile and rank! Disgust upon His face one sees The kingly wealth Doth him displease!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Expect ye now No further pay; For ye your share Have ta'en away.
THE THREE MIGHTY COMRADES
To pass the time, As was but fair; We all expect An equal share.
MEPHISTOPHELES
First range in order, Hall on hall, These wares so costly, One and all! And when he steps The prize to view, And reckons all With judgment true, He'll be no niggard; As is meet, Feast after feast He'll give the fleet, The gay birds come with morning tide; Myself for them can best provide. [The cargo is removed.]
MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST)
With gloomy look, with earnest brow Thy fortune high receivest thou. Thy lofty wisdom has been crowned; Their limits shore and sea have bound; Forth from the shore, in swift career, O'er the glad waves, thy vessels steer; Speak only from thy pride of place, Thine arm the whole world doth embrace. Here it began; on this spot stood The first rude cabin formed of wood; A little ditch was sunk of yore Where plashes now the busy oar. Thy lofty thought, thy people's hand, Have won the prize from sea and land. From here too—
FAUST
That accursed here! It weighs upon me! Lend thine ear;— To thine experience I must tell, With thrust on thrust, what wounds my heart; To bear it is impossible— Nor can I, without shame, impart: The old folk there above must yield; Would that my seat those lindens were; Those few trees not mine own, that field, Possession of the world impair. There I, wide view o'er all to take, From bough to bough would scaffolds raise; Would, for the prospect, vistas make On all that I have done to gaze; To see at once before me brought The master-work of human thought, Where wisdom hath achieved the plan, And won broad dwelling-place for man.— Thus are we tortured;—in our weal, That which we lack, we sorely feel! The chime, the scent of linden-bloom, Surround me like a vaulted tomb. The will that nothing could withstand, Is broken here upon the sand: How from the vexing thought be safe? The bell is pealing, and I chafe!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Such spiteful chance, 'tis natural, Must thy existence fill with gall. Who doubts it! To each noble ear, This clanging odious must appear; This cursed ding-dong, booming loud, The cheerful evening-sky doth shroud, With each event of life it blends, From birth to burial it attends, Until this mortal life doth seem, Twixt ding and dong, a vanished dream!
FAUST
Resistance, stubborn selfishness, Can trouble lordliest success, Till, in deep angry pain one must Grow tired at last of being first!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Why let thyself be troubled here? Is colonizing not thy sphere?
FAUST
Then go, to move them be thy care! Thou knowest well the homestead fair, I've chosen for the aged pair—
MEPHISTOPHELES
We'll bear them off, and on new ground Set them, ere one can look around. The violence outlived and past, Shall a fair home atone at last. [He whistles shrilly.]
THE THREE enter
MEPHISTOPHELES
Come! straight fulfil the lord's behest; The fleet tomorrow he will feast.
THE THREE
The old lord us did ill requite; A sumptuous feast is ours by right.
MEPHISTOPHELES (to the spectators)
What happ'd of old, here happens too: Still Naboth's vineyard meets the view.
(I Kings, xvi.)
DEEP NIGHT
LYNCEUS THE WARDER (on the watch-tower singing)
Keen vision my birth-dower, I'm placed on this height, Still sworn to the watch-tower, The world's my delight. I gaze on the distant, I look on the near, On moon and on planet, On wood and the deer: The beauty eternal In all things I see; And pleased with myself All bring pleasure to me. Glad eyes, look around ye And gaze, for whate'er The sight they encounter, It still hath been fair!
(Pause)
Not alone for pleasure-taking Am I planted thus on high; What dire vision, horror-waking, From yon dark world scares mine eye! Fiery sparkles see I gleaming Through the lindens' two-fold night; By the breezes fanned, their beaming Gloweth now with fiercer light! Ah! the peaceful hut is burning; Stood its moss-grown walls for years; They for speedy help are yearning— And no rescue, none appears! Ah the aged folk, so kindly, Once so careful of the fire, Now, to smoke a prey, they blindly Perish, oh misfortune dire! 'Mid red flames, the vision dazing, Stands the moss-hut, black and bare; From the hell, so fiercely blazing, Could we save the honest pair! Lightning-like the fire advances, 'Mid the foliage, 'mid the branches; Withered boughs,—they flicker, burning, Swiftly glow, then fall;—ah me! Must mine eyes, this woe discerning, Must they so far-sighted be! Down the lowly chapel crashes 'Neath the branches' fall and weight; Winding now, the pointed flashes To the summit climb elate. Roots and trunks the flames have blighted, Hollow, purple-red, they glow!
(Long pause. Song)
Gone, what once the eye delighted, With the ages long ago!
FAUST (on the balcony, toward the downs)
From above what plaintive whimper? Word and tone are here too late! Wails my warder; me, in spirit Grieves this deed precipitate! Though in ruin unexpected Charred now lie the lindens old, Soon a height will be erected, Whence the boundless to behold. I the home shall see, enfolding In its walls, that ancient pair, Who, my gracious care beholding, Shall their lives end joyful there.
MEPHISTOPHELES and THE THREE (below)
Hither we come full speed. We crave Your pardon! Things have not gone right! Full many a knock and kick we gave, They opened not, in our despite; Then rattled we and kick'd the more, And prostrate lay the rotten door; We called aloud with threat severe, Yet sooth we found no listening ear. And as in such case still befalls, They heard not, would not hear our calls; Forthwith thy mandate we obeyed, And straight for thee a clearance made. The pair—their sufferings were light, Fainting they sank, and died of fright. A stranger, harbor'd there, made show Of force, full soon was he laid low; In the brief space of this wild fray, From coals, that strewn around us lay, The straw caught fire; 'tis blazing free, As funeral death-pyre for the three.
FAUST
To my commandments deaf were ye! Exchange I wished, not robbery. For this your wild and ruthless part;— I curse it! Share it and depart!
CHORUS
The ancient saw still rings today: Force with a willing mind obey; If boldly thou canst stand the test, Stake house, court, life, and all the rest! [Exeunt.]
FAUST
The stars their glance and radiance veil; Smoulders the sinking fire, a gale Fans it with moisture-laden wings, Vapor to me and smoke it brings. Rash mandate—rashly, too, obeyed!— What hither sweeps like spectral shade?
MIDNIGHT
Four gray women enter
FIRST
My name, it is Want.
SECOND
And mine, it is Blame.
THIRD
My name, it is Care.
FOURTH
Need, that is my name.
THREE (together)
The door is fast-bolted, we cannot get in; The owner is wealthy, we may not within.
WANT
There fade I to shadow.
BLAME
There cease I to be.
NEED
His visage the pampered still turneth from me.
CARE
Ye sisters, ye cannot, ye dare not go in; But Care through the key-hole an entrance may win. [CARE disappears.]
WANT
Sisters, gray sisters, away let us glide!
BLAME
I bind myself to thee, quite close to thy side.
NEED
And Need at your heels doth with yours blend her breath.[35]
THE THREE
Fast gather the clouds, they eclipse star on star. Behind there, behind, from afar, from afar, There comes he, our brother, there cometh he— Death.
FAUST (in the palace)
Four saw I come, but only three went hence. Of their discourse I could not catch the sense; There fell upon mine ear a sound like breath, Thereon a gloomy rhyme-word followed—Death; Hollow the sound, with spectral horror fraught! Not yet have I, in sooth, my freedom wrought; Could I my pathway but from magic free, And quite unlearn the spells of sorcery, Stood I, oh nature, man alone 'fore thee, Then were it worth the trouble man to be! Such was I once, ere I in darkness sought, And curses dire, through words with error fraught, Upon myself and on the world have brought; So teems the air with falsehood's juggling brood, That no one knows how them he may elude! If but one day shines clear, in reason's light— In spectral dream envelopes us the night; From the fresh fields, as homeward we advance— There croaks a bird: what croaks he? some mischance! Ensnared by superstition, soon and late; As sign and portent, it on us doth wait— By fear unmanned, we take our stand alone; The portal creaks, and no one enters,—none.
(Agitated)
Is some one here?
CARE
The question prompteth, yes!
FAUST
What art thou then?
CARE
Here, once for all, am I.
FAUST
Withdraw thyself!
CARE
My proper place is this.
FAUST (first angry, then appeased. Aside)
Take heed, and speak no word of sorcery.
CARE
Though by outward ear unheard, By my moan the heart is stirred; And in ever-changeful guise, Cruel force I exercise; On the shore and on the sea, Comrade dire hath man in me Ever found, though never sought, Flattered, cursed, so have I wrought. Hast thou as yet Care never known?
FAUST
I have but hurried through the world, I own. I by the hair each pleasure seized; Relinquished what no longer pleased, That which escaped me I let go, I've craved, accomplished, and then craved again; Thus through my life I've storm'd—with might and main, Grandly, with power, at first; but now indeed, It goes more cautiously, with wiser heed. I know enough of earth, enough of men; The view beyond is barred from mortal ken; Fool, who would yonder peer with blinking eyes, And of his fellows dreams above the skies! Firm let him stand, the prospect round him scan, Not mute the world to the true-hearted man Why need he wander through eternity? What he can grasp, that only knoweth he. So let him roam adown earth's fleeting day; If spirits haunt, let him pursue his way; In joy or torment ever onward stride, Though every moment still unsatisfied!
CARE
To him whom I have made mine own All profitless the world hath grown: Eternal gloom around him lies; For him suns neither set nor rise; With outward senses perfect, whole, Dwell darknesses within his soul; Though wealth he owneth, ne'ertheless He nothing truly can possess. Weal, woe, become mere phantasy; He hungers 'mid satiety; Be it joy, or be it sorrow, He postpones it till the morrow; Of the future thinking ever, Prompt for present action never.
FAUST
Forbear! Thou shalt not come near me! I will not hear such folly. Hence! Avaunt! This evil litany The wisest even might bereave of sense.
CARE
Shall he come or go? He ponders;— All resolve from him is taken; On the beaten path he wanders, Groping on, as if forsaken. Deeper still himself he loses, Everything his sight abuses, Both himself and others hating, Taking breath—and suffocating, Without life—yet scarcely dying, Not despairing—not relying. Rolling on without remission: Loathsome ought, and sad permission, Now deliverance, now vexation, Semi-sleep,—poor recreation, Nail him to his place and wear him, And at last for hell prepare him.
FAUST
Unblessed spectres! Ye mankind have so Treated a thousand times, their thoughts deranging; E'en uneventful days to mar ye know, Into a tangled web of torment changing! 'Tis hard, I know, from demons to get free, The mighty spirit-bond by force untying; Yet Care, I never will acknowledge thee, Thy strong in-creeping, potency defying.
CARE
Feel it then now; as thou shalt find When with a curse from thee I've wended: Through their whole lives are mortals blind— So be thou, Faust, ere life be ended! [She breathes on him.]
FAUST (blind)
Deeper and deeper night is round me sinking; Only within me shines a radiant light. I haste to realize, in act, my thinking; The master's word, that only giveth might. Up, vassals, from your couch! my project bold, Grandly completed, now let all behold! Seize ye your tools; your spades, your shovels ply; The work laid down, accomplish instantly! Strict rule, swift diligence,—these twain The richest recompense obtain. Completion of the greatest work demands One guiding spirit for a thousand hands.
GREAT FORE-COURT OF THE PALACE
Torches
MEPHISTOPHELES (as overseer leading the way)
This way! this way! Come on! come on! Le Lemures, loose of tether, Of tendon, sinew, and of bone, Half natures, patched together!
LEMURES (in chorus)
At thy behest we're here at hand; Thy destined aim half guessing— It is that we a spacious land May win for our possessing. Sharp-pointed stakes we bring with speed, Long chains wherewith to measure. But we've forgotten why indeed To call us was thy pleasure.
MEPHISTOPHELES
No artist-toil we need today: Sufficeth your own measure here: At his full length the tallest let him lay! Ye others round him straight the turf uprear; As for our sires was done of yore, An oblong square delve ye once more. Out of the palace to the narrow home— So at the last the sorry end must come!
LEMURES (digging, with mocking gestures)
In youth when I did live and love, Methought, it was very sweet! Where frolic rang and mirth was rife, Thither still sped my feet.
Now with his crutch hath spiteful age Dealt me a blow full sore: I stumbled o'er a yawning grave, Why open stood the door!
FAUST (comes forth from the palace, groping his way by the door posts)
How doth the clang of spades delight my soul! For me my vassals toil, the while Earth with itself they reconcile, The waves within their bounds control, And gird the sea with stedfast zone—
MEPHISTOPHELES (aside)
And yet for us dost work alone, While thou for dam and bulwark carest; Since thus for Neptune thou preparest, The water-fiend, a mighty fete; Before thee naught but ruin lies; The elements are our allies; Onward destruction strides elate.
FAUST
Inspector!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Here.
FAUST
As many as you may, Bring crowds on crowds to labor here; Them by reward and rigor cheer; Persuade, entice, give ample pay! Each day be tidings brought me at what rate The moat extends which here we excavate.
MEPHISTOPHELES (half aloud)
They speak, as if to me they gave Report, not of a moat—but of a grave.[36]
FAUST
A marsh along the mountain chain Infecteth what's already won; Also the noisome pool to drain— My last, best triumph then were won: To many millions space I thus should give, Though not secure, yet free to toil and live; Green fields and fertile; men, with cattle blent, Upon the newest earth would dwell content, Settled forthwith upon the firm-based hill, Up-lifted by a valiant people's skill; Within, a land like Paradise; outside, E'en to the brink, roars the impetuous tide, And as it gnaws, striving to enter there, All haste, combined, the damage to repair. Yea, to this thought I cling, with virtue rife, Wisdom's last fruit, profoundly true: Freedom alone he earns as well as life, Who day by day must conquer them anew. So girt by danger, childhood bravely here, Youth, manhood, age, shall dwell from year to year; Such busy crowds I fain would see, Upon free soil stand with a people free; Then to the moment might I say; Linger awhile, so fair thou art! Nor can the traces of my earthly day Through ages from the world depart! In the presentiment of such high bliss, The highest moment I enjoy—'tis this.
(FAUST sinks back, the LEMURES lay hold of him and lay him upon the ground.)
* * * * *
[Footnote 1: For lack of space, scientists and historians have been excluded.]
[Footnote 2: The chief original sources for the life of Goethe are his own autobiographic writings, his letters, his diaries, and his conversations. Of the autobiographic writings the most important are (1) Poetry and Truth from my Life, which ends with the year 1775; (2) Italian Journey, covering the period from September, 1786, to June, 1788; (3) Campaign in France and Siege of Antwerp, dealing with episodes of the years 1792 and 1793; (4) Annals (Tag- und Jahreshefte), which are useful for his later years down to 1823. His letters, forty-nine volumes in all, and his diaries, thirteen volumes, are included in the great Weimar edition of Goethe's works. His conversations, so far as they were recorded, have been well edited by W. von Biedermann, ten volumes, Leipzig, 1889-1896.]
[Footnote 3: This earlier version was long supposed to be lost, but in 1910 a copy of the original manuscript was discovered at Zuerich and published. Its six books correspond very nearly to the first four of the final version.]
[Footnote 4: Translator: Charles Wharton Stork.]
[Footnote 5: Adapted from E.A. Bowring.]
[Footnote 6: Translator: E.A. Bowring. (All poems in this section translated by E.A. Bowring, W.E. Aytoun and Theodore Martin appear by permission of Thomas Y. Crowell & Co.)]
[Footnote 7: Translator: E.A. Bowring.]
[Footnote 8: Adapted from E. A. Bowring.]
[Footnote 9: Translator: E. A. Bowring.]
[Footnote 10: Translator: E.A. Bowring.]
[Footnote 11: Translator: E. A. Bowring.]
[Footnote 12: Translator: E. A. Bowring.]
[Footnote 13: Translator: E. A. Bowring.]
[Footnote 14: Translator: E.A. Bowring.]
[Footnote 15: Translator: E. A. Bowring.]
[Footnote 16: Translator: E.A. Bowring.]
[Footnote 17: W.E. Aytoun and Theodore Martin.]
[Footnote 18: Translator: A.I. du P. Coleman.]
[Footnote 19: Translators: W.E. Aytoun and Theodore Martin.]
[Footnote 20: Translators: W. E. Aytoun and Theodore Martin.]
[Footnote 21: The title of a lyric piece composed by Schiller in honor of the marriage of the hereditary prince of Weimar to the Princess Maria of Russia, and performed in 1804.]
[Footnote 22: Translator: E. A. Bowring.]
[Footnote 23: Translation: E. A. Bowring.]
[Footnote 24: Translator: E. A. Bowring.]
[Footnote 25: Translator: A. I. du P. Coleman.]
[Footnote 26: Translator: A. I. du P. Coleman.]
[Footnote 27: Translator: E. A. Bowring.]
[Footnote 28: Translator: A. I. du P. Coleman.]
[Footnote 29: Translator: E.A. Bowring.]
[Footnote 30: Translator: A. L. du P. Coleman.]
[Footnote 31: Harvard Classics (Copyright P. F. Collier & Son).]
[Footnote 32: Harvard Classics (Copyright P. F. Collier & Son).]
[Footnote 33: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and G. Bell & Sons, Ltd., London.]
[Footnote 34: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and G. Bell and Sons, Ltd., London.]
[Footnote 35: Not and Tod, the German equivalents for Need and Death, form a rhyme. As this cannot be rendered in English, I have introduced a slight alteration into my translation.]
[Footnote 36: The play of words contained in the original cannot be reproduced in translation, the German for Moat being Graben, and for grave Grab.]
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