BAYARD TAYLOR COLLECTION 
 
 IN 
 
 FAUST AND QOETHE LITERATURE 
 
 _^ THE GIFT OF 
 
 MRS. MARIE TAYLOR 
 1905 
 
arV10330 
 Faust 
 
 Cornell University Library 
 
 3 1924 031 251 816 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 924031 251 81 6 
 
FAUST: A DRAMATIC POEM, 
 
 BY GOETHE. 
 
 tJOi@^ 
 
FAUST 
 
 A DRAMATIC POEM, 
 
 BY GOETHE. 
 
 TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VEESE 
 
 THEODORE MARTIN. 
 
 SeconH (EEtiititm. 
 
 WILLIAM BLACKWOOD Al^D SONS, 
 EDINBURGH AND LONDON. 
 
 MDOOOLXVI. 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 E eome, dim forms, as in youth's early day 
 Ye bless'd these eyes, which now so lonely 
 grieve ! 
 Still, still, to hold ye fast shall I essay, 
 Still let my heart to that delusion cleave ? 
 Ye throng me round ! Well ! lord it how ye may, 
 As from the mists ye rise, that round me weave ! 
 Ye waft a magic air, that shakes my breast 
 With youth's tumultuous, yet divine unrest. 
 
 Visions ye bring with you of happy days, 
 
 And many a dear, dear shade ascends to view ; 
 
 Like some faint haunting chime of ancient lays. 
 
 Come love, first love, and friendship back with you ; 
 
 The heart runs back o'er life's bewilder'd maze, 
 And pangs long laid to sleep awake anew. 
 
 And name the loved ones lost, — before their day 
 
 Swept, whilst life yet was beautiful, away. 
 
Alas, alas ! These strains they cannot hear, 
 The souls to whom my earliest lays I sang ; 
 
 Gone are they all, that band of friends so dear, 
 The echoes hush'd, that once responsive rang ; 
 
 My numbers fall upon the stranger's ear. 
 Whose very praise is to my heart a pang. 
 
 And all who in my lays took pride of yore, 
 
 Are lost ia other lands, or else no more. 
 
 And yearnings fill my soul, unwonted long, 
 
 To yonder still, sad, spirit-world to go ; 
 Now, like ^Slolian harp, my faltering song 
 
 Eises and falls in fitful cadence low ; 
 A shudder thrills me, as old memories throng. 
 
 The strong heart melts, tears fast on tear-drops flow ; 
 What I possess seems far, far-off to be. 
 And what hath pass'd away becomes reality. 
 
PRELUDE AT THE THEATRE. 
 
 ^^sjesv. 
 
Managbe. Poet of the Thbatbb. Merbyman. 
 
 Managbe. 
 
 LD friends and true, my proved allies 
 In times of trouble and of need, 
 Say, how you think our enterprise 
 Will here on German soil succeed. 
 My aim and chief delight would be 
 To please the crowd, especially 
 As " Live and let live " is their creed. 
 Our booth is up, both wind and water tight, 
 And all are looking forward to a treat : 
 Even now they sit, with eyebrows raised, and quite 
 For marvels primed to lift them oflf their feet. 
 "Well know I how to hit the public taste. 
 Yet ne'er felt so perplex'd as now I feel ; 
 'Tis true, they're not accustom'd to the best. 
 But then the rogues have read an awful deal. 
 How to contrive, then, something fresh and new. 
 To set them thinking, yet amuse them too ? 
 For; sooth, it glads my heart the crowd to view. 
 When, setting towards our booth with streamlike rush. 
 They pour along, wave coursing wave, and through 
 The narrow doorway elbow, squeeze, and crush : 
 
FAUST. 
 
 When m broad day, by three, or even before. 
 They make a dash at the pay-taker's wicket, 
 Like starving men, that storm a baker's door 
 For bread, their ribs imperUling for a ticket. 
 This miracle on men so various may 
 The poet only work. Work thou it, friend, to-day ! 
 
 Poet. 
 Oh, tell me not of yonder motley crew. 
 Which scares our spirit with its aspect coarse. 
 Yon surging throng, oh, veil it from my view. 
 Which in its eddies drags us down perforce ! 
 No, lead me to some heaven-cahn nook, where true 
 Delight hath for the bard alone its source. 
 Where love and friendship wake, refine, expand 
 Our heart's best blessings with celestial hand. 
 
 What there has touch'd the spirit's inward ear. 
 And on the lips a trembling echo found. 
 Uncertain now, now full, perchance, and clear. 
 Is in the wild world's dizzying tumult drown'd. 
 Oft only after throes of year on year 
 With perfect form our spirit's dream is crown'd ; 
 The showy lives its little hour ; the true 
 To aftertimes bears rapture ever new. 
 
 Mbbrtman. 
 Truce to this prate of aftertimes ! Were I 
 Of aftertimes to babble thus, why, who 
 With fun would these our present times supply. 
 Yet fun they wiU have, and with reason too ? 
 A jovial presence, readiness, address. 
 Go far, believe me, to command success. 
 He that can put what he has got to say 
 Into the compass of a pleasant piece. 
 
FAUST. 1 
 
 And send his points home well, he, come what may, 
 Will ne'er be sour'd by popular caprice. 
 He wants a large wide public for his sphere ; 
 There burns his genius with a tenfold ardour, 
 For there he knows he's sure to catch their ear. 
 To move them deeper, and to hit them harder. 
 Coragio, then, — ^to work ! and let them see 
 The very type of what a piece should be. 
 Fancy with all her ministering train, — 
 Thought, Eeason, Feeling, Passion, Melancholy, — 
 Make these to speak, each in her proper strain, 
 And, last not least, forget not, mark me, FoUy ! 
 
 Manager. 
 
 But put, be suje, whatever else you may, 
 
 Enough of incident into your play, 
 
 Plenty to look at, — ^that's what people like, 
 
 'Tis what they come for ; dazzle, then, their eyes 
 
 With bustle, plot, spectacle, — ^things that strike 
 
 The multitude with open-mouth'd surprise. 
 
 " Superb ! sublime !" they cry, " what breadth ! what power !'* 
 
 And you become the lion of the hour. 
 
 Only by mass can you subdue the masses, 
 
 A sop for every taste, for every bent ; 
 
 He that brings much brings something for all classes. 
 
 And everybody quits the house content. 
 
 If you're to give a piece, in pieces give it ! 
 
 With a ragout like that succeed you must. 
 
 To serve it up so is quite easy — just 
 
 As easy anyhow as to invent it. 
 
 In one organic whole though you present it. 
 
 Harmonious and compact, it little matters ; 
 
 The public's sure to tear it into tatters, 
 
 Blur every tint, and every joint unrivet. 
 
FAUST. 
 
 Poet. 
 
 You do not feel, how all unworthy is 
 Such vulgar handicraftsman's work as this ; 
 How little consonant with every aim, 
 That spurs the genuine artist on to fame. 
 Mere paltry patch-work, gaudy, and unreal, 
 Eun up at random by your bungling fool, 
 Alas ! too well, I see, is your ideal. 
 Approved by choice and justified by rule. 
 
 Manageb. 
 
 Eail on ! I care not how you thrust. 
 
 Whoe'er would work to pm-pose must 
 
 Choose tools that best his purpose fit. 
 
 Think what soft wood you have to split, 
 
 And only look for whom you write. 
 
 One comes to seek a brief respite 
 
 From ennui, if he can, and vapours ; 
 
 Another stupid from a heavy meal, 
 
 And, what is worse than all a deal. 
 
 Scores fresh fi'om reading magazines and papers. 
 
 They rush to us as to a masquerade. 
 
 Quite in the cue for dissipation. 
 
 And the mere prospect of a new sensation 
 
 Wings all their footsteps, man and maid. 
 
 The ladies, in their best array'd. 
 
 Think only how to catch the eye. 
 
 And with oiu: own performers vie. 
 
 Themselves performers, though unpaid. 
 
 Your poet-dreams, your soarings high. 
 
 Oh, they were there appropriate, very ! 
 
 Zounds, do you fancy these wiU ever draw 
 
 A bumper house, or make it merry ? 
 
 Regard your patrons closely. Why, 
 
FAUST. 
 
 They 're one half cold, the other raw. 
 
 One 's longing for the play to end, 
 
 That he may have his game of cards in quiet, 
 
 Another 's eager to be off to spend 
 
 The night upon a wench's lap in riot. 
 
 Why then, ye simpletons, for such a pack 
 
 Put the sweet, gracious Muses on the rack ? 
 
 I tell you, only give enough to hear and see. 
 
 No matter what the quality may be ! 
 
 Then you can never miss your mark. Contrive 
 
 To keep folk's curiosity alive. 
 
 Their senses stun, and mystify their brains ; 
 
 To satisfy them 's more than man can do. 
 
 How ! What's amiss ? Axe these poetic pains. 
 
 Or stomach-qualms, that have got hold of you ? 
 
 Poet. 
 
 Begone, and seek elsewhere some other man, 
 Lackey in soul, to work on such a plan ! 
 What ! shall the poet fool at thy behest 
 The right away, 'twere sin if he forsook. 
 His human-heartedness, the noblest, best 
 Endowment which from Nature's hands he took ? 
 By what stirs he all hearts as by a spell. 
 And makes them quaU, or at his will be strong ? 
 By what does he each element compel 
 To lend some fresh enchantment to his song ? 
 Oh, is it not the harmony that rings 
 From his full soid with unconstrained art. 
 And, circling round creation's orbit, brings 
 The whole world back in music to his heart ? 
 When Nature winds her endless threads along 
 The spindles, heedless how they cross or tangle. 
 
10 FAUST. 
 
 When all created things, a jarring throng, 
 
 In chaos intermingling, clash and jangle, 
 
 Who parts them, till each hving fihre takes 
 
 Its order'd place, and moves in rhythmic time, 
 
 Who in the general consecration makes 
 
 Each unit swell the symphony sublime ? 
 
 Who links our passions with the tempest's glooms. 
 
 Our solemn thoughts with twihght's roseate red. 
 
 Who scatters all the springtide's lovehest blooms 
 
 Along the path the loved one deigns to tread ? 
 
 Who of some chance green leaves doth chaplets twine 
 
 Of glory for desert in every field. 
 
 Assures Olympus, gives the stamp divine ? 
 
 Man's power immortal in the bard reveal'd ! 
 
 Mebetman. 
 
 To work, then, with these powers so rare. 
 
 And ply your task of bard and singer. 
 
 As people push a love affair ; 
 
 They meet by accident, are smitten, linger, 
 
 And get themselves somehow into a tangle ; 
 
 All 's love and bUss, then comes a tiff, a wrangle. 
 
 In heaven one hour, the next, despair, distraction, 
 
 And, presto, lo ! a whole romance in action ! 
 
 After this fashion let us, too. 
 
 Construct our piece ; but see that you 
 
 Go straight at all the stir and strife. 
 
 That agitate our human hfe ; 
 
 AH have it, but not many know it. 
 
 Get hold of it, where'er you wUl, 
 
 In all its motley mixtiu-e show it. 
 
 And it is interesting stiU. 
 
 A medley give of personages wheeling 
 
 'Neath impulses half seen, half hid from view. 
 
FA UST. 11 
 
 "With much that's false to nature and to feeling 
 
 Mix here and there a spice of something true : 
 
 So you a famous beverage compound, 
 
 To rouse and edify the house all round. 
 
 Then to your play throngs youth's prime flower, intent 
 
 To see its future there made clear and plain, 
 
 Then tender souls from it seek nourishment. 
 
 To feed withal their melancholy vein. 
 
 Call up now this, now that, love, hate, mirth, rage, despair. 
 
 And all wiU then behold what in their heart they bear. 
 
 They stiU are of that happy age, when they 
 
 Are equally prepared to laugh or weep ; 
 
 They still can find a pleasure in display. 
 
 Still reverence bold imagination's sweep. 
 
 He that is past his growth, hard, formal, set, 
 
 There's no contenting him, howe'er you sing : 
 
 The yoimg, with all their growth before them yet, 
 
 WiU thank you heartily for all you bring. 
 
 Poet. 
 
 Then give, give me too back the days. 
 When I myself, like them, was growing. 
 When forth gush'd throngmg lays on lays. 
 As from a fountain ever flowing ; 
 When to my wondering eyes the world 
 As in a veil of mist was set, 
 And every bud gave promise yet 
 Of marvels in its leaves upcurl'd ; 
 When swiftly sped the happy hours, 
 As roaming hke a summer gale, 
 I pluck'd at wiU the thousand flowers. 
 That richly studded every vale. 
 Nought had I then, yet had in sooth 
 Such wealth as nothing could enhance, 
 
12 FA UST. 
 
 The thirst unquenchable for truth, 
 The blest delusions of romance. 
 Give each bold impulse back to me, 
 The deep wild joy, that thrUl'd like pain. 
 The might of hate, love's ecstacy, 
 Give me my youth again ! 
 
 Meebtman. 
 
 Of youth, good friend, you would have need, no doubt, 
 
 If foes on battle-plain were round you pressing. 
 
 If some fond wench had flung her arms about 
 
 Your neck, and plied you hard with her caressing ; 
 
 If from a far-off goal, nigh out of sight, 
 
 The wreath for him that wins the prize were blinking. 
 
 If, after dancing madly half the night. 
 
 You settled down to spend the rest in drinking. 
 
 But on the lyre's familiar strings to lay 
 
 Your grasp with masterful, yet sweet control. 
 
 And there meandering gracefully to stray 
 
 On to your shining self-appointed goal. 
 
 This the vocation is of you old fellows. 
 
 Nor do we therefore prize you less, my friend. 
 
 Age does not make men childish, as folks tell us. 
 
 It only finds them children to the end. 
 
 Managbb. 
 Enough of talk ! At aU events, 
 I fain would see you up and doing : 
 While you are turning compliments. 
 Something to purpose might be brewing. 
 Why speak of waiting for the mood ? 
 Wait, and 'twill never come at all ! 
 You set up for a poet, — good ! 
 Then hold your poetry at caU. 
 
FA UST. 13 
 
 You know the article we want, 
 
 A drink strong, sharp, and stimulant, 
 
 So get to work, and brew away ! 
 
 Full well we wot, and to our sorrow. 
 
 That what's not set about to-day 
 
 Is never finish'd on the morrow. 
 
 No man of sense will waste in such 
 
 Delays one day, one single hour ; 
 
 No, he will by the forelock clutch 
 
 Whatever hes within his power, 
 
 Stick fast to it, and neither shirk. 
 
 Nor from his enterprise be thrust. 
 
 But, having once begun to work, 
 
 Gro working on because he must. 
 
 On German stages one expects. 
 
 You know, vagaries wild and daring, 
 
 So of mechanical effects. 
 
 And gorgeous scenery be not sparing ! 
 
 Turn on heaven's greater light and less, 
 
 Be lavish of the stars withal. 
 
 Fire, forest, sea, crag, waterfall. 
 
 Birds, beasts into your service press, 
 
 So in this narrow booth the wide 
 
 Broad circle of creation stride, 
 
 And, with such speed as best wiU tell. 
 
 From heaven post through the world to hell ! 
 
PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. 
 
 •^Mty 
 
The Lobd. The HJBAviiisrLY Hosts. Afterwards 
 Mbphistophelbs. 
 
 The Three Abchanobls come forward. 
 
 Raphael. 
 
 ^^^^^^HE sun in chorus, as of old, 
 
 With brother spheres is sounding still, 
 And on with crash of thunder roU'd, 
 Doth its appointed course fulfil. 
 The angels as they gaze grow strong, 
 Though fathom it they never may ; 
 These works sublime, untouch'd by wrong. 
 Are bright as on the primal day. 
 
 Gabbiel. 
 
 And swift, beyond conceiving swift, 
 
 The earth is wheeling onward ; mark ! 
 IVom dark to light its surface shift. 
 
 From brightest light to deepest dark ! 
 In foam the sea's broad billows leap. 
 
 And lash the rocks with giant force. 
 And rock and billow onward sweep 
 
 With sun and stars in endless course. 
 
 I; c 
 
18 FA UST. 
 
 Michael. 
 
 And battling storms are raging high 
 
 From shore to sea, from sea to shore, 
 And radiate cmrents, as they fly, 
 
 That quicken earth through every pore. 
 There blasting lightnings scatter fear, 
 
 And thunders peal ; but here they lay 
 Their terrors down, and. Lord, revere 
 
 The gentle going of Thy day. 
 
 The Thbee. 
 
 The angels, as they gaze, grow strong. 
 
 Yet fathom Thee they never may ; 
 And aU Thy works, untouch'd by wrong. 
 
 Are bright as on the primal day. 
 
 Mephistophelbs. 
 
 Since Thou, oh Lord, amongst us com'st once more, 
 
 To ask how things are getting forward here, 
 
 And Thou hast commonly been kind before, 
 
 I at thy levee with the rest appear. 
 
 I can't talk grandly, not though these fine folks 
 
 Should all upon my homeliness cry scorn ; 
 
 My pathos surely would Thy mirth provoke 
 
 If Thou hadst not all merriment forsworn. 
 
 Of sun and worlds I nothing have to say, 
 
 I only see how mortals fume and fret. 
 
 The world's small god retains his old stamp yet. 
 
 And is as queer as on the primal day. 
 
 He had been better off, hadst Thou not some 
 
 Faint gleam of heavenly light into him put ; 
 
 Eeason he calls it, and doth yet become 
 
 More brutish through it than the veriest brute. 
 
FA UST. 19 
 
 He seems to me, if I my thought may state, 
 One of those grasshoppers, with legs ell-long, 
 That flies and leaps, and flies again, and straight 
 Down in the grass is piping its old song ! 
 If to the grass he kept, his grief were less, 
 But he wiU thrust his nose in every dirty mess ! 
 
 The Loud. 
 
 Hast thou, then, nothing else to say but this ? 
 
 Comest thou ever only to complain ? 
 
 Art thou with nothing upon earth content ? 
 
 Mephistoi>hbles. 
 
 No, Lord ! I find things there, as ever, much amiss. 
 Men and their troubles cause me genuine pain ; 
 Not even I would the poor souls torment. 
 
 The Lobd. 
 Dost thou know Paust ? 
 
 Mbphistophbi.es. 
 
 What! Doctor Faust? 
 
 The Lobd. 
 
 My servant. 
 
 Mephistophelbs. 
 
 Thy servant? Well, his service may be fervent. 
 
 But it is surely of the strangest kind. 
 
 Not upon earth, the fool ! is he 
 
 Content his food or drink to find ; 
 
 Craving for what can never be. 
 
 Yet scarce to his own madness blind. 
 
 He would be soaring far and free, 
 
 In hopes to clutch Immensity. 
 
20 FA UST. 
 
 From heaven he asks its fairest star. 
 From earth its every chief delight, 
 Yet all that's near, and all that's far. 
 Although they lay within his might. 
 Would never yield the look'd-for zest. 
 Nor still the torturing tumult of his breast. 
 
 The Lord. 
 Though now he serve me stumblingly, the hour 
 Is nigh, when I shall lead him into Ught. 
 When the tree buds, the gardener knows that flower 
 And fruit will make the coming seasons bright. 
 
 Mephisiopheles. 
 
 What win you wager ? If you only let 
 
 Me lead him without hindrance my own way, 
 
 I'll answer for it, you shall lose him yet ! 
 
 The Lokd. 
 
 So long as on the earth he lives, you may 
 Your snares for him and fascinations set, — 
 Man, while his struggle lasts, is prone to stray. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 For this you have my thanks ; for I protest, 
 That with dead men I never cared to deal ; 
 Plump, rosy cheeks are what I like the best. 
 When corpses call, I'm out ; for, sooth, I feel. 
 Like cats with mice, 'tis life that gives the zest. 
 
 The Loud. 
 Enough, 'tis granted ! From the source, where he 
 His being had, this spirit turn aside. 
 And lead him, if thou'rt able, down vdth thee 
 Along thy way, that pleasant is and wide ; 
 
FAUST. 21 
 
 And stand abasb'd, when thou art forced to own, 
 A good man, in the darkness and dismay 
 Of powers that fail, and purposes o'erthrown, 
 May still be conscious of the proper way. 
 
 MBPHISTOPHEIiBS. 
 
 Good ! But at rest the point will soon be set ; 
 I'm not at all alarm'd about my bet. 
 If I should win and crow too loudly, you 
 Win not amiss my Uttle triimiph take ? 
 Dust shaJl he eat, ay, and with rehsh, too. 
 Like that old cousin of mine, the famous snake. 
 
 The Loud. 
 
 In this, as in the other, thou art free ; 
 
 I ne'er have look'd with hate on such as thee ! 
 
 Among the spirits that deny. 
 
 The scoffer doth offend me least of all. 
 
 On men's activity who may rely ? 
 
 Into indulgent ease 'tis apt to fall. 
 
 Whatever his beginnings, soon he gxows 
 
 To have a taste for undisturb'd repose ; 
 
 And therefore am I always glad to yoke 
 
 In fellowship with him a comrade, who 
 
 Is ever ready to incite, provoke. 
 
 And must, as devil, be busy, such as you. 
 
 But, ye taMie sons of heaven, rejoice to share 
 The wealth exuberant of all that 's fair. 
 Which lives, and has its being everywhere ! 
 And the creative essence which surrounds. 
 And lives in all, and worketh evermore. 
 Encompass you within love's gracious bounds ; 
 And all the world of things, which flit before 
 
22 FA UST. 
 
 The gaze in seeming fitful and obscure, 
 
 Do ye in lasting thoughts embody and secure ! 
 
 {^Heaven closes ; the Aechanoels disperse. 
 
 Mephjstophbues {alone). 
 
 The Old One now and then I like to see, 
 And not to break with him take special heed. 
 'Tis very good of such a great grandee 
 To be so civil to me, — 'tis indeed. 
 
FAUST. A TRAGEDY. 
 
ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I.— Night. 
 
 A lofty, vaulted, narrow, Oothie chamber. — 
 Eaust seated at his desk. 
 
 Eaust. 
 
 LL that philosophy can teach. 
 The craft of lawyer and of leech, 
 I've master'd, ah ! and sweated through 
 Theology's dreary deserts, too. 
 
 Yet here, poor fool ! for aU my lore, 
 
 I stand no wiser than before. 
 
 They call me magister, save the mark ! 
 
 Doctor, withal ! and these ten years I 
 
 Have been leading my pupils a dance in the dark. 
 
 Up hiU, down dale, through wet and through dry — 
 
 And yet that nothing can ever be 
 
 By mortals known, too well I see ! 
 
 This is burning the heart clean out of me. 
 
 More brains have I than all the tribe 
 
 Of doctor, magister, parson, and scribe. 
 
 Erom doubts and scruples my soul is free ; 
 
 Nor hell nor devil has terrors for me : 
 
 But just for this I am dispossess'd 
 
 Of all that gives pleasure to life and zest. 
 
26 FAUST. 
 
 I can't even juggle myself to own, 
 
 There is any one thing to be truly known. 
 
 Or aught to be taught in science or arts. 
 
 To better mankind and to turn their hearts. 
 
 Besides, I have neither land nor pence. 
 
 Nor worldly honour nor influence, 
 
 A dog in my case would scorn to live ! 
 
 So myself to magic I've vow'd to give. 
 
 And see if through spirit's might and tongue 
 
 The heart from some mysteries cannot be wrung ; 
 
 If I cannot escape from the bitter woe 
 
 Of babbling of things that I do not know. 
 
 And get to the root of those secret powers, 
 
 Which hold together this world of ours. 
 
 The sources and centres of force explore. 
 
 And chaffer and dabble in words no more. 
 
 Oh, broad bright moon, if this might be 
 
 The last of the nights of agony. 
 
 The countless midnights, these weary eyes 
 
 Have from this desk here watch'd thee rise ! 
 
 Then, sad-eyed friend, thy wistful looks 
 
 Shone in upon me o'er paper and books ; 
 
 But oh ! might I wander in thy dear light 
 
 O'er the trackless slopes of some mountain height. 
 
 Bound mountain caverns with spirits sail, 
 
 Or float o'er the meads in thy hazes pale ; 
 
 And freed from the fiimes of a fruitless lore. 
 
 Bathe in thy dews and be whole once more ! 
 
 Ah me ! am I penn'd in this dungeon stiU ? 
 Accursed doghole, clammy and chill ! 
 Where heaven's own blessed light must pass. 
 Shorn of its rays, through the painted glass. 
 
FAUST. 27 
 
 Narrow'd and cumber'd by piles of books, 
 That are gnaw'd by worms and grimed with dust. 
 And which, with its smoke-stain'd paper, looks 
 Swathed to the roof in a dingy rust ; 
 Stuck round with phials, and chests untold. 
 With instruments litter'd, and lumber'd with old 
 Crazy, ancestral, household ware — 
 This is your world ! A world most rare ! 
 
 And yet can you wonder, why your soul 
 
 Is numb'd within your breast, and why 
 
 A dead, dull anguish makes your whole 
 
 Life's pulses falter, and ebb, and die ? 
 
 How should it be but so ? Instead 
 
 Of the living nature, whereinto 
 
 God has created man, things dead 
 
 And drear alone encompass you— 
 
 Smoke, Utter, dust, the skeletons 
 
 Of birds and beasts, and dead men's bones ! 
 
 Up, up ! Away to the champaign free ! 
 And this mysterious volume, writ 
 By Nostradamus' self, is it 
 Not guide and counsel enough for thee ? 
 Then wilt thou learn, by what control 
 The stars within their orbits roU, 
 And if thou'lt let boon Nature be 
 The guide and monitress to thee, 
 Thy soul shall expand with tenfold force. 
 As spirit with spirit holds discourse. 
 Dull poring, think not that can here 
 Expound these holy signs to thee ! 
 Ye spirits, ye are hovering near. 
 
28 FA UST. 
 
 If yo can hear me, answer me ! 
 
 [^Throws open the book, and discovers the 
 sign of the Macrocosm. 
 Ha ! as it meets my gaze, what rapture gushing 
 Through all my senses mounts into my brain ! 
 Youth's ecstasy diyine, I feel it rushing, 
 Like quickening fire, through every nerve and vein ! 
 Was it a god who chronicled these signs, 
 Which aU the war within me still. 
 The aching heart with sweetness fill,. 
 And to mine eyes in clearest lines 
 Unveil all Nature's powers as with a mystic thrill ? 
 Am I a god ? All grows so bright. 
 In these pure outlines I behold 
 Nature at work before my soul unroll'd. 
 Now can I read the sage's saw aright : 
 " Not barr'd to man the world of spirits is ; 
 Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead ! 
 Up, student, lave, — nor dread the bliss, — 
 Thy earthly breast in the morning-red !" 
 
 \_Qazes intently at the sign. 
 How all things in one whole do blend, 
 One in the other working, living ! 
 What powers celestial, lo ! ascend, descend. 
 Each unto each the golden pitchers giving ! 
 And, wafting blessings from their wings. 
 From heaven through farthest earth career, 
 While through the universal sphere 
 One universal concord rings ! 
 
 Oh, what a show ! yet but a show ! Ah me ! 
 Where, boundless nature, shall I clutch at thee ? 
 Ye breasts, where are ye ? Ye perennial springs 
 Of life, whereon hang heaven and earth, 
 
FA UST. 29 
 
 Whereto the blighted bosom clings, 
 Ye gush, ye slake all thirst, yet I pine on in dearth ! 
 [Twrns the leaves of the hooJc angrily, and 
 sees the sign of the Earth Spirit. 
 How differently I feel before this sign ! 
 Earth Spirit, thou to me art nearer ; 
 My faculties grow loftier, clearer. 
 Even now I glow as with new wine. 
 Courage I feel into the world to roam. 
 To bid earth's joys and sorrows haU, 
 'Mid storm and struggle to make my home. 
 And in the crash of shipwreck not to quail. 
 Clouds gather o'er my head ; 
 The moon conceals her light, 
 The lamp's gone out. The air 
 Grows thick and close ! Red flashes play 
 Around me. From the vaulted roof 
 A shuddering horror creeps. 
 And lays its gripe on me ! 
 Spirit invoked, I feel 
 
 Thou'rt hovering near, thou art, thou art ! 
 Unveil thyself ! 
 
 Ha ! What a tugging at my heart ! 
 Stirr'd through their depths, my senses reel 
 With passions new and strange ! I feel 
 My heart is thiae, thine wholly ! Hear ! 
 Thou must ! ay, though it cost my life, thou must appear ! 
 [Seizes the booh, and utters the sign of the Spirit 
 
 mysteriously. A red light flashes, in which 
 
 the Spirit appears. 
 SpmiT. 
 Who calls on me ? 
 
 Fattst (turning away). 
 
 Dread vision gaunt ! 
 
30 FAUST. 
 
 Spihit. 
 
 By potent art thou'st dragg'd me here ; 
 Thou'st long been sucking at my sphere, 
 And now — 
 
 Faust. 
 I loathe thee. Hence, avaunt ! 
 
 Spibit. 
 
 To view me were thy prayer and choice,, 
 
 To see my face, to hear my voice. 
 
 Well ! by thy potent prayer won o'er, 
 
 I come. And thou, that wouldst be more 
 
 Than mortal, having thy behest. 
 
 Art with a craven fear possess'd ! 
 
 Where is thy pride of soul ? Where now the breast. 
 
 Which in itself a universe created, 
 
 Sustain'd it, yea, and foster'd, which dilated 
 
 With giant throes of rapture, in the hope 
 
 As peer with spirits such as me to cope ? 
 
 Where art thou, Paust, whose simimons rang so wide. 
 
 Who storm'd my haunts, and would not be denied ? 
 
 Is this thing thou ? This, my mere breath doth make 
 
 Through every nerve and fibre quake ? 
 
 A crawling, cowering, timorous worm ? 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Thou film of flame, art thou a thing to fear ? 
 I am, I am that Faust ! I am thy peer ! 
 
 Spirit. 
 
 In the currents of Life, in Action's storm, 
 I wander and I wave. 
 Everywhere I be ! 
 
FAUST. -31 
 
 Birth and the grave, 
 
 Aa infinite sea, 
 
 A web ever growing, 
 
 A hfe ever glowing. 
 
 Thus at Time's whizzing loom I spin. 
 
 And weave the living vesture that God is mantled in ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Thou busy Spirit, who dost sweep 
 From sphere to sphere, from deep to deep. 
 Banging the world from end to end. 
 How near akin I feel to thee ! 
 
 Spibit. 
 
 Thou'rt Hke the Spirit, thou dost comprehend. 
 
 But not like me ! [ Vanishes. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 But not like thee ! 
 
 Whom, then ? What ! I, 
 
 The image of the Deity ! 
 
 Yet not to be compared to thee ? [.4 Tcnoeh. 
 
 death ! My Famulus ! At time like this 
 To drag me from the top of bliss ! 
 
 That such a soulless driveller should 
 Disturb this vision's fiill beatitude ! 
 
 JSdig*" Wagneb, in Jiis dressing-gown and night-cap, with 
 a lamp in his hand. Faust turns away impatiently. 
 
 Waoneb. 
 
 1 heard you, did I not, declaim ? 
 
 From one, no doubt, of the old Greek plays ? 
 
32 FA UST. 
 
 So in the art to take a hint I came ; 
 For it is much in favoui' now-a-days. 
 I've often heard it said, at least, 
 An actor might instruct a priest. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Yes, if the priest an actor he, 
 
 As now and then will happen, certainly. 
 
 Wagneb. 
 
 Ah, when one's in his study pent, like me. 
 And sees the world but on a rare occasion. 
 And then far off, on some chance hoUday, 
 And through a telescope, as one may say. 
 How can one ever hope to sway. 
 Or govern it by eloquent persuasion ? 
 
 Fattst. 
 
 That is a power, which is not to be taught. 
 
 It must be felt, must gush forth from within. 
 
 And, rising to the lips in words unsought. 
 
 The hearts of all to deep emotion win. 
 
 Sit on for ever ! Till you ache, 
 
 Your patchwork and mosaics make ; 
 
 With scraps at others' banquets found 
 
 A ragout of your own compound. 
 
 And, blowing at your ash-heap, fan 
 
 What miserable flame you can ! 
 
 Children and apes may praise your art — 
 
 A noble triumph, you must own — 
 
 But you wiU never make heart throb with heart. 
 
 Unless your own heart first has struck the tone. 
 
FAUST. 33 
 
 Wagnbe. 
 
 Delivery makes the orator's success. 
 In that I'm far behind, I must confess. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Scorn such success ! Play thou an honest game ! 
 
 Be no mere empty tinkling fool ! 
 
 True sense and reason reach their aim 
 
 "With little help from art or rule. 
 
 Be earnest ! Then what need to seek 
 
 The words that best your meaning speak ? 
 
 Oh, your orations, garnish'd, trimm'd, refined. 
 
 Tickling men's fancies where they're chiefly weak. 
 
 Are unrefreshing as the drizzling wind. 
 
 That through the autumn's sere leaves whistles bleak. 
 
 Wagkee. 
 
 Ah me ! art is so long, and life so brief ! 
 
 Oft in my labours critical, a load 
 
 Seems weighing on my brain and heart like lead. 
 
 How hard it is, almost beyond behef, 
 
 To get at knowledge in its fountain head ! 
 
 And ere a man is half way on the road. 
 
 He's very sure, poor devU, to be dead. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Is parchment, then, the sacred fount, can give 
 The stream that shall allay thy thirst for ever ? 
 Man never quaff'd a draught restorative. 
 That from his own soul well'd not — ^never, never ! 
 
 Wagnee. 
 
 Excuse me, surely 'tis a joy sublime. 
 To realize the spirit of a time, 
 
34 FA UST. 
 
 To see how sages long ago have thought, 
 
 And the high pass to which things now-a-days are brought. 
 
 Fatjst. 
 High pass ! Oh yes ! As the welkin high ! 
 My friend, to us they are, these times gone by, 
 A book with seven seals, and what you call 
 The spirit of the times,. I've long suspected, 
 Is but the spirit of the men — ^that's all — 
 In which the times they prate of are reflected. 
 And that's a sight, God wot, so poor, so mean. 
 We run away from it as soon as seen ; 
 Mere scraps of odds and ends, old crazy lumber. 
 In dust-bins only fit to rot and slumber ; 
 At best a play on stilts, all strut and glare. 
 Gewgaws and ghtter, fustian and pretence. 
 With maxims strewn of sage pragmatic air. 
 That, mouth'd by puppets, pass with fools for sense. 
 
 Wagnbb. 
 
 Ay, but the world ! The heart and soul of man, 
 Something of these may, sure, be learn'd by all. 
 
 Faust. 
 As men call learning, yes, no doubt, it can ! 
 But who the child by its right name will call ? 
 The few, who something of that knowledge learn'd, 
 And were not wise enough a guard to keep 
 On their ftdl hearts, but to the people shoVd 
 The reaches of their soaring thoughts, the deep 
 Emotions that within them glow'd. 
 Men at ajl times have crucified and burn'd.* 
 
 * Whenever a great soul gives utterance to its thoughts, there also 
 is Golgotha.— Heike. 
 
FAUST. 35 
 
 I prithee, friend, 'tis far into the night, 
 And for the present we must say adieu ! 
 
 "Wagnbe. 
 
 I'd gladly watch till dawn, for the delight 
 Of such most edifying talk with you. 
 To-morrow, being Easter-day, 
 Good sir, if I so far might task you. 
 Some things there are which I should like to say, 
 Some further questions I should like to ask you ; 
 My zeal has in my studies not been small ; 
 Much, it is true, I know, but I would fain know all. 
 
 [Escit. 
 Faust. 
 
 Strange, that all hope has not long since been blighted 
 In one content on such mere chaff to feed. 
 Who digs for treasure with a miser's greed. 
 And if he finds a muck-worm is dehghted ! 
 
 Dare such a thing as this to babble now. 
 When all around with spirit-life is teeming ? 
 Yet ah, I thank thee, though the sorriest thou ^ 
 Of aU that tread the earth in mortal seeming. 
 Thou rescuedst me from the despair, that fast 
 Was wildering my brain with mad surmise. 
 Ah, yonder vision was so giant-vast, 
 I shrank before it to a pigmy's size. 
 
 I, God's own image, I who deem'd I stood 
 
 With truth eternal full within my gaze, 
 
 And of this earthly husk divested, view'd 
 
 In deep contentment heaven's effulgent bkze ; 
 
 I, more than cherub, whose free powers, methought. 
 
 Did aU the veins of nature permeate, 
 
36 FAUST. 
 
 I who — so potently my fancy wrought — 
 Conceived that, like a god, I could create, 
 And in creating taste a bhss supreme, 
 How must I expiate my frenzied dream ? 
 One word, that smote like thunder on my brain, 
 Swept me away to nothingness again. 
 
 I dared not deem myself for thee a peer ; 
 
 Though to evoke thee I the power possess'd. 
 
 Yet was I impotent to keep thee here. 
 
 Oh, in the rapture of that moment blest 
 
 I felt myself so little, yet so great ! 
 
 But thou didst thrust me back with cruel scorn 
 
 Upon the sad uncertainties forlorn 
 
 Of man's mere mortal state. 
 
 Who is to teach me ? MHiat shall I 
 
 Eecoil from ? Wliat go widely by "? 
 
 Yon impulse, passionate, profound. 
 
 Shall I obey it, or forswear ? 
 
 Alas ! our way of hfe is cramp'd and bound 
 
 By what we do no less than what we're doom'd to bear ! 
 
 Around our spirit's dreams, our noblest, best. 
 Some base alloy for ever clings and grows ; 
 Once of the good things of this world possess'd, 
 We call a better wealth but lying shows. 
 The glorious feehngs, those that most we prized, 
 That made indeed our very life of life, 
 In the world's turmoil and ignoble strife 
 Are sear'd and paralysed. 
 
 If fancy, for a season flush'd vrith hope, 
 
 Through boundless ether soars with wing micheek'd, 
 
 A little space for her is ample scope. 
 
 When in Time's quicksands joy on joy lies wreck'd. 
 
FAUST. 37 
 
 Anon great care creeps into our nether heart, 
 And there of secret sorrows breeds great store ; 
 Uneasily she sits, and mopes apart. 
 Marring our joy and peace ; and evermore 
 Eresh masks she dons, to work us bitter dole ; 
 Turn where we wiU, she haunts our Hfe, 
 As house and land, as child and wife, 
 As iire and flood, as knife and poison'd bowl. 
 
 I am not like the gods, too well I feel ! 
 No ! Like the worm that writhes in dust am I, 
 "Which, as it feeds on dust, the passer by 
 Stamps into nothingness beneath his heel. 
 
 For what but dust, mere dust, is all 
 
 Which, piled in endless shelf and press, 
 
 From floor to roof, contracts this lofty waU ? 
 
 The trash, all frippery and emptiness, 
 
 \^Tiich here in this moth-swarming hole 
 
 Cramps, cabins, and confines my soul ? 
 
 How shall I e'er discover here 
 
 The light and lore, for which I yearn ? ^ 
 
 Is all my poring year by year 
 
 On books by thousands, but to learn, 
 
 That mortals have been wretched everywhere. 
 
 And only one been happy here and there ? 
 
 What, hollow skull, what means that grin of thine ? 
 
 But that thy brain was once, hke mine, distraught, 
 
 Did after truth with rapturous passion pine. 
 
 And, whUe the radiance of the day it sought, 
 
 Grew at each step less certain of its way. 
 
 And in the twilight went disastrously astray ? 
 
 Ye instruments, at me ye surely mock 
 
 With cog and wheel and coil and cylinder ! 
 
38 FAUST. 
 
 I at the door of knowledge stood, ye were 
 
 The key which should that door for me unlock ; 
 
 Your wards, I ween, have many a cunning maze, 
 
 But yet the holts ye cannot, cannot raise. 
 
 Inscrutable in noon-day's blaze. 
 
 Nature lets no one tear the veil away, 
 
 And what herself she does not choose 
 
 Unask'd before your soul to lay. 
 
 You shall not wrest from her by levers or by screws. 
 
 Old limiber, that hast ne'er been used by me. 
 The reason, and the only, thou art here. 
 Is that my father work'd of yore with thee ! 
 And thou, old roll, hast rotted here and moulder'd, 
 Smear'd with the fumes of smoke year after year, 
 Since first upon this desk the dull lamp smoulder'd. 
 Oh, better far, had I with hand profuse 
 Squander'd the Uttle I can call my own. 
 Than with that little here to sweat and groan ! 
 Would you possess, enjoy and turn to use 
 What from your sires you have inherited. 
 What a man owns, but knows not to employ, 
 A burden is, that weighs on him like lead ; 
 Nought can avaU him, nought can he enjoy. 
 Save what is by the passing moment bred. 
 
 Why is my gaze on yonder comer glued ? 
 Yon flask, is it a magnet to my sight ? 
 Why, why is all at once as lovely, bright, 
 As sudden moonshine in a midnight wood ? 
 
 AH haU, thou priceless phial, which I here 
 Take from thy shelf with reverential hand ! 
 In thee man's skill and wisdom I revere. 
 
FAUST. 39 
 
 Thou quintessence of all the juices bland, 
 
 That drowse the brain with slumber, — abstract thou 
 
 Of all most subtle deadly agencies. 
 
 Bestow thy grace upon thy master now ! 
 
 I see thee, and my anguish finds a bahn, 
 
 I touch thee, and the turmoil tm-ns to calm ; 
 
 My soul's flood-tide is ebbing by degrees. 
 
 A viewless finger beckons me to fleet 
 
 To shoreless seas, where never tempest roars, 
 
 The glassy flood is shining at my feet. 
 
 Another day invites to other shores. 
 
 A car of fire, by airy pinions driven, 
 
 Flits o'er me : and I stand prepared to flee. 
 
 By tracks untrodden, through the wastes of heaven. 
 
 Up to new spheres of pure activity. 
 
 This hfe sublime, this godhke raptm-ous thrill, 
 
 Can these by thee, a worm but now, be won ? 
 
 Yes, so thou turn with a resolved will 
 
 Thy back on earth, and on its kindly sun ! 
 
 The gates, most men would slink Uke cravens by. 
 
 Dare thou to burst asunder ! Lo, the hour 
 
 Is here at hand by deeds to testify, 
 
 Man's worth can front the gods in all their power ; 
 
 To gaze unblenching on that murky pit, 
 
 Where fancy weaves herself an endless doom, 
 
 To storm that pass, whose narrow gorge is lit 
 
 By blasting hell-fires flickering through the gloom ; 
 
 Serene, although the risk before thee lay. 
 
 Into blank nothingness to melt away ! 
 
 Then come thou down, pure goblet crystalline, 
 Out from that time-stain'd covering of thine, 
 Where I unmark'd for years have let thee rest. 
 
40 FAUST. 
 
 Thou sparkled'st, when my grandsire's feasts were 
 
 erown'd, 
 Lit'st up the smiles of many a sad-brow'd guest, 
 As each man to his neighbour pass'd thee round. 
 Thy figures, marvels of the artist's craft. 
 The "drinker's task, to tell their tale in rhyme, 
 And drain thy huge circumference at a draught. 
 Bring many a night back of my youthful prime. 
 I shall not pass thee now to comrade boon, 
 Nor torture my invention to explain 
 The quaint devices of thy graver's brain. 
 Here is a juice intoxicates full soon ; 
 Its current brown brims up thy ample bowl. 
 Now be this draught, the last I shall prepare. 
 In festive greeting quaff'd, with all my soul. 
 Unto the morn, that soon shall dawn on me elsewhere ! 
 [Bmses the gohlet to Ms lips. Pealing of 
 hells, and choral song. 
 
 Chobtjs of Ajjgels. 
 Christ is ascended ! 
 Hail the glad token. 
 True was it spoken. 
 Sin's fetters are broken, 
 Man's bondage is ended ! 
 
 Pattst. 
 What deepening hum is this, what silver chime 
 Drags from my lips perforce the cup away ? 
 Ye booming bells, do you proclaim the time 
 Is here once more of Easter's festal day ? 
 And you, ye pealing choirs, do you the songs 
 Of consolation and glad tidings chant, 
 Hymn'd roimd the sepulchre by angel throngs. 
 Pledge of a new and nobler covenant ? 
 
FA UST. 4] 
 
 Chobus op Women. 
 With myrrli and with aloes 
 We balin'd and we bathed Him, 
 Loyally, lovingly. 
 Tenderly swathed Him ; 
 With cerecloth and band 
 Por the grave we array'd Him ; 
 But oh. He is gone 
 From the place where we laid Him ! 
 
 Chobus of Angels. 
 
 Christ is ascended ! 
 The love that possess'd Him, 
 The pangs that oppress'd Him, 
 To prove and to test Him, 
 In triimiph have ended ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Celestial strains, soft yet subduing, why, 
 
 Why seek ye me, a crawler in the dust ? 
 
 Ring out for men more phant-soul'd than I ! 
 
 The message though I hear, I lack the faith robust. 
 
 Faith's darUng child is miracle. I must, 
 
 I dare not strive to mount to yonder spheres, 
 
 Whence peal these tidings of great joy to men ; 
 
 Yet does the strain, familiar to mine ears 
 
 From childhood, call me back even now to life again. 
 
 All, then I felt the kiss of heavenly love 
 
 On me in Sabbath's holy cahn descending, 
 
 The bells rang mystic meanings from above, 
 
 A prayer was ecstasy that seem'd unending ; 
 
 A longing sweet, that would not be controU'd, 
 
 Drove me though field and wood ; and from my eyes 
 
 Whilst tears, whose source I could not fathom, roU'd, 
 
42 FA UST. 
 
 I felt a great glad world for me arise. 
 
 This anttem heralded youth's meniest time, 
 
 The gambols of blithe Spring : now memories sweet, 
 
 Fraught with the feelings of my childhood's prime. 
 
 From the last step decisive stay my feet. 
 
 Oh peal, sweet heavenly anthems, peal as then ! 
 
 Tears flood mine eyes, earth has her child again. 
 
 Choeus of Disciples. 
 He that was buried 
 On high has ascended ; 
 There lives in glory, 
 Sublimely attended. 
 In heaven whilst He reigneth. 
 For us "Who was slain here. 
 On earth we. His chosen. 
 To suffer remain here, — 
 To suffer and languish 
 Midst pain and annoy ; 
 Lord, in our anguish, 
 We envy Thy joy. 
 
 Chobus of Angels. 
 From the lap of corruption, 
 Lo ! Christ has ascended ! 
 Eejoice, for the fetters 
 That bound you are rended ! 
 Praise Him unceasingly, 
 Love one another. 
 Break bread together, like 
 Sister and brother ! 
 Preach the glad tidings 
 To all who will hear you, 
 So will the Master be 
 Evermore near you ! 
 
FA UST. 43 
 
 SCENE II.— Bbfobe the To-wn Gate. 
 
 Promenaders of all hinds pass out. 
 
 A Pabtt op Mechanics. 
 |UT why are you turning up the hill ? 
 
 Ajstothee Pakty. 
 We for the Jagerhaus are bound. 
 
 First Party. 
 We think of sauntering towards the mill. 
 
 A Mechanic. 
 Best by the Wasserhof go round. 
 
 Sbcond Mechanic. 
 The road there is none of the prettiest. 
 
 The Oth3!bs. 
 And where are you for ? 
 
 Thtbd Mechanic. 
 
 I go with the rest. 
 
 FocETH Mechanic. 
 Come up to the Burgdorf ! That 's the place, 
 Where one is sure to find the best of cheer, 
 The prettiest wenches, and the strongest beer, 
 And a good joUy row in any case. 
 
 Fifth Mechanic. 
 You pestilent scapegrace, 
 A third time do you want to be well whack'd '? 
 I don't half fancy gomg there ; in fact, 
 I have a perfect horror of the place. 
 
44 FA UST. 
 
 Servant Gibl. 
 I will go back to town, I will, that 's flat ! 
 
 Second Sbbvant Gihl. 
 We 're sure to find Mm at the poplars yonder. 
 
 FmsT Sbevant Giel. 
 And much the better I shall be for that ! 
 By whose side wiU he walk, I wonder ? 
 Why, yours ! And dance with you, and you alone ! 
 So, while you have your frolic, I may moan. 
 
 Second Servant Girl. 
 He's sure to have a friend ! Ah, come now, do 1 
 He said that Curlylocks was coming, too. 
 
 Student. 
 Zounds, how these strapping girls step out ! 
 Come, brother, come, let's join them for a bout. 
 A beer that stuns, a pipe that bites, 
 And a wench in her braws are my delights. 
 
 Citizen's DAtroHTER. 
 These fine young fellows, look where they go ! 
 'Tis a downright shame ; when they might know 
 The best of company, if they please, 
 To be running after such drabs as these. 
 
 Second Student (to the first). 
 Not quite so fast ! Behind us, yonder, see, 
 A brace of wenches rigg'd out smart and neat 
 One lives almost next door to me, 
 And on the girl I'm very sweet. 
 For aU their looking so demure, 
 They'll take us with them presently, I'm sure. , 
 
FAUST. 45 
 
 FmsT Sttodent. 
 
 No, no ! all prudes are bores. Quick, come away, 
 Or we shall let the game shp. 'Tis confess'd, 
 The hand, that twirls the mop on Saturday, 
 Fondles on Simday with peculiar zest. 
 
 Citizen. 
 
 What, our new burgomaster ? Nay, 
 He is a man I cannot bear. 
 He grows more overbearing every day, 
 Since he was caU'd into the chair. 
 And what, pray, does he for the town ? 
 Are things not daily growing worse ? 
 Are we not more and more kept down, 
 And pull'd at more and more in purse ? 
 
 BBaGAB {sings). 
 
 Kind sirs, and ladies fair and sweet. 
 
 With rosy cheeks and handsome dresses. 
 Look down upon me, I entreat. 
 
 Observe, and hghten my distresses. 
 In pity hsten to my voice ! 
 
 Free hands make merry hearts and gay ; 
 So make this day, when all rejoice. 
 
 To me a very harvest day. 
 
 Secokd Citizen. 
 
 There's nothing more my heart on Sundays cheers, 
 
 Or hohdays, than a gossip about war 
 
 And warhke rumours, when the peoples far 
 
 Away in Turkey all are by the ears. 
 
 We by the window stand, toss off our glass. 
 
 And down the river watch the painted vessels gliding ; 
 
46 FA UST. 
 
 Then home at evening merrily we pass, 
 And bless the comforts of a peace abiding.' 
 
 Thied Citizen. 
 
 Ay, neighbour, nor care I what lengths they go. 
 Zomids, they may cleave each other's pates, they may, 
 And turn the whole world topsy-turvy, so 
 They leave things here at home to jog on the old way. 
 
 Old Woman (to the Gitizen^s daughters). 
 
 Heyday ! How smart ! The pretty dears ! Who'd not 
 Be fairly smitten, now, that met you ? 
 You needn't be so haughty, though, God wot ! 
 What you desire I know the way to get you. 
 
 Citizen's Daughteb. 
 
 Come, Agatha ! I'd rather not be seen to greet 
 A witch hke this upon the pubHc street ; 
 But on Saint Andrew's Eve she let me see 
 In flesh and blood my lover that's to be. 
 
 The Othkb. 
 
 Mine, too, she show'd me in the glass, 
 A soldier, one of a dare-devil set ; 
 Here, there, all wheres I seek him, but alas 
 I have not come across him yet. 
 
 SoLDiEBS (sing). 
 
 Towns, with loud defiance sent 
 Down from tower and battlement ; 
 Maidens, rosy as the morn. 
 Mashing round them looks of scorn. 
 These alike for us have charms, 
 Soimd alike the cry, " To arms ! " 
 
FAUST. 47 
 
 When such glorious prizes call us, 
 Death nor danger can appal us. 
 
 "When we hear the trumpets blow, 
 On to death or bhss we go ! 
 "What is hke the soldier's trade ? 
 "What can match such escalade ? 
 Forted towns, and maidens tender 
 Must alike to us surrender. 
 When such glorious prizes call us. 
 Death nor danger can appal us. 
 
 CHOErs. 
 Maids or widows may be sighing. 
 On we march with colours flying ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 !Freed from the ice are river and riU 
 
 By the quickening glance of the gracious Spring ; 
 
 Green with promise are valley and hill. 
 
 Old winter, palsied and shivering. 
 
 Back has crept to his moimtains bleak. 
 
 And sends from them, as he flies appaU'd, 
 
 Showers of impotent haU, to streak 
 
 The fields that are green as emerald. 
 
 But the sun no shimmer of whiteness brooks ; 
 
 The earth is through all her pores aUve, 
 
 Budding and bursting, and all things strive 
 
 To enliven with colours their winterly looks ; 
 
 And the landscape, though bare of flowers, makes cheer 
 
 With people dress'd out in their hohday gear. 
 
 Turn round, and from this height look down 
 
 Over the vineyards upon the town. 
 
 A motley medley is making its way 
 
48 FA UST. 
 
 Out from the murky wide-mouth'd gate. 
 
 Blithely they bask in the sun to-day. 
 
 The Saviour's Eising they celebrate. 
 
 For they have risen themselves, I ween ; 
 
 From the close, damp rooms of their hovels mean, 
 
 From the bonds of business, and labour, and care. 
 
 From the gables and roofs that oppress them there, 
 
 From the stifling closeness of street and lane, 
 
 From the churches' gloom-inspiring night. 
 
 They all have emerged into the Ught. 
 
 But, see, how they are spreading amain 
 
 Across the gardens and fields, and how 
 
 The river, as far as the eye can note. 
 
 Is all alive with shallop and boat ! 
 
 And look ! the last departing now. 
 
 Laden so deeply it scarce can float. 
 
 Far up on the hills as the pathways run. 
 
 Gay dresses are ghstering in the sun. 
 
 Hark now the din of the village ! Here 
 
 Is the people's true heaven. With hearty glee 
 
 Little and great, how they shout and cheer ! 
 
 Here I am man, here such dare be. 
 
 Wagnee. 
 
 To walk about with you, sir doctor, so 
 
 Is honour, yea, and profit. Still, were I alone, 
 
 I would not here be loitering thus, I own, 
 
 Seeing of all that's coarse I am the foe. 
 
 Your fiddling, shouting, skittle-playing, aU 
 
 Are noises which I loathe and quite resent. 
 
 These creatures rave, as if the devU drove, and call 
 
 Their riot song, forsooth, and merriment. 
 
FAUST. 49 
 
 Peasants TmDEB the linden teeb. 
 
 Dance and song. 
 
 The shepherd for the dance was dress'd ; 
 AH trick'd out in his Sunday best, 
 "With ribbons gay and sightly. 
 Throng'd round the Hnden lass and lad, 
 And all were dancing there like mad, 
 
 Huzza ! huzza ! 
 
 Hip ! hip ! huzza ! 
 The fiddle bow went sprightly. 
 
 Into the thick of them he paced, 
 And clipp'd a damsel round the waist. 
 
 His arms about her bending ; 
 The buxom wench turn'd round and said, 
 " You stupid oaf, where were you bred ?" 
 Huzza ! huzza ! 
 Hip ! hip ! huzza ! 
 " Your manners, sir, want mending !" 
 
 But faster grew the fiin, and right 
 And left they wheel'd ; it was a sight 
 
 To. see the kirtles flying ! 
 And they grew red, and they grew warm. 
 And then they rested, arm in arm. 
 Huzza ! huzza ! 
 Hip ! hip ! huzza ! 
 Such panting, and such sighing ! 
 
 " Hold off your saucy hands ! You men 
 Are all deceit and falsehood, when 
 
 You find a girl undoubting." 
 But he coax'd her, and she stepp'd aside, _ 
 "While from the linden echoed wide. 
 
50 FA UST. 
 
 Huzza ! huzza ! 
 Hip ! hip ! huzza ! 
 The fiddling and the shouting. 
 
 Old Peasant. 
 
 Sir Doctor, this is kind of you, 
 To think no scorn of us to-day ; 
 And you such a grand scholar too. 
 To mix with simple folks this way ! 
 Here, take this jug, 'tis handsome ware. 
 Nor is the hquor of the worst, 
 I pledge you in it, with the prayer, 
 It may not only quench your thirst. 
 But that each drop within it may 
 Add to your hfe another day ! 
 
 Paust. 
 
 Eight gladly I ohey your call. 
 
 And drink with thanks good health to aU ! 
 
 \The people gather round him in a circle. 
 
 Old Peasant. 
 
 Indeed this is most kindly done. 
 To mingle in om* mirth to-day. 
 Ah, sir, you stood our friend in times, 
 "When we were anything hut gay. 
 There's many a hale man standing here. 
 Your father rescued from the clutch 
 Of raging fever, when he stay'd 
 The plague that wasted us so much. 
 Though hut a lad, from house to house 
 You sought the sick and dying too : 
 They hore out many stark and stiff, 
 But nothing ever aU'd with you. 
 
FAUST. 51 
 
 Your trials many were and sore, 
 You bore them with a spirit brave, 
 And the great Saviour of us all 
 Saved him that lent a hand to save. 
 
 All. 
 
 Health to the trusty friend, and may 
 He live to help us many a day ! 
 
 PArST. 
 
 To Him above be homage paid. 
 Who only counsel can, or aid ! 
 
 [ Walks on with Wagner. 
 
 Wagneb. 
 
 "V\Tiat must you feel, to think, illustrious man, 
 
 This crowd reveres you with a love so deep ? 
 
 Oh happy, who from his endowments can 
 
 So fair a harvest of advantage reap ! 
 
 The father points you to his son. 
 
 The people whisper, crowd, and run, 
 
 The fiddle stops, and lad and lass 
 
 Break up the dance midway to stare ; 
 
 They stand in rows for you to pass. 
 
 Their caps fly up into the air ; 
 
 Upon their knees they dropp'd, almost 
 
 As though it were the passing of the Host. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Some few steps farther, up to yonder stone ! 
 Here wiR we rest, and taste the evening air : 
 Ofttimes I sat here, wrapt in thought, alone. 
 And rack'd myself with fasting and with prayer. 
 Brimm'd full with hope, in faith unwavering, 
 
52 FA UST. 
 
 By tears and sighs and beatings of the breast 
 
 From the great Lord of Heaven I sought to wring 
 
 Cessation of that devastating pest. 
 
 Like mockery now rings yonder crowd's applause ; 
 
 Oh, could you look into my soul, and read, 
 
 How little worthy son or father was 
 
 Of such repute as they to us decreed. 
 
 My father was a good man, not too bright. 
 
 Who, by strange notions of his own deluded. 
 
 In all good faith, with patience infinite 
 
 On Nature and her sacred circles brooded ; 
 
 Who shut himself with his adepts away 
 
 In a laboratory, black, grim, and mystic, 
 
 And fused and fused by rule and recipe 
 
 Things that by nature are antagonistic. 
 
 The Lion Eed, bold wooer, bolder mate, 
 
 In tepid bath was to the Lily married, 
 
 And then were both by open fire-flame straight 
 
 From one bride-chamber to another harried. 
 
 Thus in due time the Youthful Queen inside 
 
 The glass retort in motley colours hover'd : 
 
 This was the medicine ; the patients died, 
 
 And no one thought of asking who recover'd. 
 
 So 'mongst these hiUs and vaJes our heU-broths wrought 
 
 More havoc, brought more victims to the grave 
 
 By many than the pestilence had brought. 
 
 To thousands I myself the poison gave : 
 
 They pined and perish'd ; I live on to hear 
 
 Their reckless murderers' praises far and near. 
 
 Wagnbe. 
 
 But why let this distress you, — ^why ? 
 Can any honest man do more. 
 Than conscientiously to ply 
 
FA UST. 53 
 
 His craft as by its masters plied before ? 
 If you, as youth, revere your father, you 
 Of course accept from him what he can teach ; 
 If you, as man, see farther, wider too. 
 Your son in turn a higher mark may reach. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Oh happy he, who still can hope 
 
 Out of this sea of error to arise ! 
 
 We long to use what lies beyond our scope. 
 
 Yet cannot use even what within it lies. 
 
 But let us not by saddening thoughts like these 
 
 The blessing of this happy hour o'errun. 
 
 See, how they gleam, the green-girt cottages, 
 
 Fired by the radiance of the evening-sun ! 
 
 It slopes, it sets ; day wanes. On with a bound 
 
 It speeds, and lo ! a new world is aJive ! 
 
 Oh God, for wings to hft me from the ground. 
 
 Onward, still onward after it to strive ! 
 
 Beneath me I should see, as on I press'd, 
 
 The hush'd world ever bathed in evening's beams, 
 
 Each mountain top on fire, each vale at rest. 
 
 The sUver brook flow into golden streams. 
 
 Nor peak nor mountain chasm should then defeat 
 
 My onward course, so godlike and so free ; 
 
 Lo, with its bays all winking in the heat. 
 
 Bursts on my wonder-smitten eyes the sea ! 
 
 But now the god appears about to sink ! 
 
 Fresh impulse stirs me, not to be confined. 
 
 I hurry on, his deathless light to drink, 
 
 The day before me, and the night behind, 
 
 The heavens above me, and the waves below. 
 
 A lovely dream ! Meanwhile, the sun his face 
 
 Has hid. Ah, with the spirit's wings wUl no 
 
54 FA UST. 
 
 Corporeal wings so readily keep pace. 
 
 Yet is the yearning with us all inborn, 
 
 Upwards and onwards to be struggling stUl, 
 
 When over us we hear the lark at morn 
 
 Lost in the sky her quivering carol triU ; 
 
 When o'er the mountains' pine-clad summits drear 
 
 The eagle wheek afar on outstretch'd wing, 
 
 When over flat and over mere 
 
 The crane is homewards labouring. 
 
 Wagkeb. 
 
 I too have often had my whims and moods, 
 But never was by such an impulse stirr'd. 
 A man soon looks his fill at fields and woods ; 
 The mngs I ne'er shall envy of a bird. 
 How differently the spirit's pure dehghts 
 Waft us from book to book, from page to page ! 
 They give a beauty to the winter's nights, 
 A cheerful glow that can its chUl assuage. 
 And some fine manuscript when you unroll. 
 Ah, then all heaven descends into your soul ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 One only aspiration thou hast known. 
 
 Oh, never seek to know the other, never ! 
 
 Two souls, alas ! within my bosom throne ; 
 
 One from the other wildly longs to sever. 
 
 One, with a passionate love that never tires, 
 
 Cleaves as with cramps of steel to things of earth. 
 
 The other upwards through earth's mists aspires 
 
 To kindred regions of a loftier worth. 
 
 Oh, in the air if spirits be. 
 
 That float 'twixt earth and heaven, and lord it there. 
 
 Then from your golden haze descend, and me 
 
FAUST. 55 
 
 Far hence to fields of new existence bear ! 
 Yes, if a magic mantle were but mine, 
 To stranger lands to waft me at my call, 
 I'd prize it more than robes of costliest shine, 
 I would not change it for a monarch's pall. 
 
 .Wa&nbe. 
 
 , The too familiar throng invoke not, who. 
 In trailing vapours spread upon the wind. 
 Come trooping from aU quarters', where they brew • 
 Unnumber'd plagues and perils for mankind. 
 The sharp-fang'd spirits of the North, lo, they 
 Come rushing down on you with arrowy tongues ; 
 Those of the East they parch you dry as hay, 
 And suck a slow nutrition from your lungs. 
 If from the desert sands the South sends out 
 Those that heap fire on fire around your brain. 
 The West brings those that first refresh, no doubt. 
 But end with drowning you, and field, and plain. 
 They watch our every word, on mischief bent. 
 Obey each wish, yet turn them all awry. 
 They look as if from heaven expressly sent. 
 And hsp like very angels when they lie. 
 But let us go ! the earth is wrapt in grey ; 
 The air grows chill, the mists are falling. 
 'Tis evening makes us prize our homes. But, hey, 
 Why stare you thus, as at some sight appalling ? 
 What in the dusk there fills you with such trouble ? 
 
 Faust, 
 See'st thou yon black dog coursing through the stubble ? 
 
 Wagnbr. 
 I saw him long ago, but heeded not the least. 
 
56 FAUST. 
 
 Faust. i 
 
 Observe him well ! For what tak'st thou the beast ? 
 
 Wagner. 
 Why, for a poodle, trying to hark back 
 In doglike wise upon his master's track. 
 
 Faust. 
 See how he doth in spiral circles make 
 A circuit round us, wheeUng nigh and nigher ! 
 And after him — ^it can be no mistake — 
 There follows, as he runs, a trail of &e. 
 
 Wagneb. 
 Nought but a coal-black poodle can I see ; 
 It must some optical illusion be. 
 
 Faust. 
 To me it seems, that round our feet he draws 
 Fine magic toils to snare us, fast and faster. 
 
 Wagner. 
 Eound us he runs perplex'd and shy, because 
 He sees two strangers here, and not his master. 
 
 Faust. 
 The circle narrows. He touches us almost. 
 
 Wagner. 
 'Tis a mere dog, you see, and not a ghost. 
 He growls, hangs back, lies down, begins to whine, 
 Waggles his tail — all practices canine. 
 
 Faust. 
 Here, go along with us ! Come hither, come ! 
 
FA UST. 57 
 
 Wagner. 
 
 A merry beast it is, and frolicsome. 
 Stand still, and he sits up and begs. 
 Speak to him, and he jumps upon your legs ; 
 Lose anything he'll find it for you quick, 
 And leap into the water for your stick. 
 
 Faitst. 
 
 Thou'rt right ! I find not of a spirit here 
 One single trace : 'tis training all, that's clear. 
 
 Wagneb. 
 
 The dog, if well brought up, may be 
 
 Even for the sage good company : 
 
 Your favour, possibly your thanks, 
 
 He certainly deserves to earn ; 
 
 The students, sir, have taught him all these pranks. 
 
 Which he has shown much aptitude to learn. 
 
 {They pass in at the gate of the town. 
 
 SCENE III.— Faust's Study. 
 
 Faust (entering with the poodle). 
 
 EADOW I've left, and dale and hill, 
 
 In night's deep gloom arrayed, that wakes 
 Within us with a solemn thriU 
 
 The mood which most of heaven partakes : 
 Each wild desire is lull'd to rest. 
 
 That rent the heart, or rack'd the brow ; 
 The love of man now fires the breast. 
 The love of God is kindling now. 
 
58 FAUST. 
 
 Peace, dog, be quiet ! Your restlessness wearies ! 
 
 Why sniff you so at the threshold there ? 
 
 Down, sir, 'behind the stove ! See, here is 
 
 The best of my cushions to make you a lair. 
 
 We did not object to your coursing and leaping, 
 
 It served to amuse us up there on the hill, 
 
 But if you are to remain in my keeping, 
 
 You must learn, like a well-manner'd guest, to be still. 
 
 Ah, when within our naiTOw room 
 
 The friendly lamp again is Ut, 
 Then from our spirit flies the gloom, 
 
 That duU'd and overshadow'd it. 
 Eeason begins once more to speak, 
 
 And hope again to plume her wings ; 
 After life's streams we pant, yea, seek 
 
 The very fountain whence it springs. 
 
 Cease, dog, to growl ! The brutish sound 
 
 Jars with the haUow'd tones that all 
 
 My soul at this sweet hour enthral ! 
 
 We think it not strange, when men around 
 
 Deride the things they comprehend not, 
 
 And all that is fairest and best contemn, 
 
 Por how shoidd such things their vile natures offend not ? 
 
 Would the hound be snarling at these, like them ? 
 
 But ah ! I feel, strive as I may, that peace 
 Will well forth from my bosom never more. 
 Yet, wherefore should its stream so quickly cease. 
 And we lie parch'd and panting as before ? 
 So oft have I been doom'd thus low to fall. 
 Yet for this want we may have compensation ; 
 We learn to prize the supernatural, 
 
FAUST. 59 
 
 And cry with yearning hearts for Revelation, 
 
 Which nowhere burns more worthily and clear, 
 
 Than all through the New Testament. So here 
 
 I turn me to the primal text, elate 
 
 With a wild longing, line for hne. 
 
 The great original divine 
 
 Into my own dear German to translate. 
 
 [Opens the volume, and prepares to write. 
 " In the Beginning was the Word ! " 'Tis writ. 
 Here on the threshold I must pause, perforce ; 
 And who wiU help me onwards in my course ? 
 No, by no possibility is 't fit, 
 I should the naked Word so highly rate. 
 Some other way must I the words translate. 
 If by the spirit rightly I be taught. 
 " In the Beginning was the Sense !" 'Tis writ. 
 The first hne ponder well. Is it 
 The Sense, which is of each created thing 
 The primal cause, and regulating spring ? 
 It should stand thus : " In the Beginning was 
 The Power ! " Yet even as I write, I pause. 
 A something warns me, this will not content me. 
 Lo ! help is from the Spirit sent me ! 
 I see my way ; with hghtning speed 
 The meaning flashes on my sight. 
 And with assured conviction thus I write : 
 " In the Beginning was the Deed ! " 
 
 My chamber if you wish to share. 
 This howUng, poodle, straight forbear. 
 This barking, and this riot ! 
 To brook a comrade so unquiet 
 Is more than I am able. 
 Here both of us cannot remain. 
 
60 FA UST. 
 
 And, though it goes against my grain, 
 
 To be inhospitable, 
 
 There is the door, and you are free 
 
 To go ! But what is this I see ? 
 
 How can such transformation be ? 
 
 Is it a real thing, or throws 
 
 Some glamour over me its spells ? 
 
 How long and broad my poodle grows ! 
 
 It rises, it dilates and swells. 
 
 This is no dog : what can it be. 
 
 This fiend I have brought home with me ? 
 
 Now with his fiery eyes, and rows 
 
 On rows of horrid teeth, he shows 
 
 Like any hippopotamus ! 
 
 Ha ! Now I know you ! Is it thus ? 
 
 For such half-hell-begotten brood 
 
 The seal of Solomon is good. 
 
 Spibits (in the passage outside). 
 One we know well 
 Is caught fast within there. 
 Mind what you're doing. 
 No one go in there ! 
 An old lynx of hell, 
 Like a fox in a gin, there 
 Is quaking and stewing. 
 Have a care ! Have a care ! 
 Unseen, through the air, 
 FKt ye and hover, 
 To and fro, round about. 
 Now under, now over. 
 And he will get out ! 
 
 Aid him all, if aid ye may ! 
 
FAUST. 61 
 
 He has done us ere to-day 
 Pleasiires manifold and rare ! 
 Help him, then, in his despair ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 To grapple with the monster I 
 
 The Spell of the Four at first will try. . 
 
 Salamander, he shall glow. 
 Into streams Undine flow. 
 Vanish Sylph, and, Kobold, double 
 Shall his turmoil be and trouble ! 
 
 If a man know not the lore 
 Of the Elemental Fow, 
 The power of each and property. 
 Of the world of spirits he 
 Never will the master be. 
 
 Hence as ye came in flash and flame, 
 
 Salamander ! 
 Flow out and be seen a rushing stream. 
 
 Undine ! 
 Blaze on the air a meteor fair. 
 
 Sylph ! 
 Us with timely help befriend. 
 
 Incubus ! Incubus ! 
 Come forth, come forth, and make an end ! 
 
 No one of the Four is lodged in the beast. 
 'Tis plain I have not touch'd the case. 
 Quite still he hes, and grins in my face. 
 His withers I have not wrung in the least. 
 Now shall ye hear me, whatever ye are. 
 Conjure with a spell more potent by far. 
 
62 FAUST. 
 
 Com'st thou here, from hell's confine 
 A fugitive, behold this sign, 
 Holy emblem, 'neath whose power 
 All the fiends of darkness cower ! 
 Its bristles rise ! Behold it now to monstrous size dilate ! 
 Thou thing accursed and reprobate ! 
 Canst thou read the holy token. 
 Him that never was create. 
 Him that never may be spoken, 
 All from sky to sky prevading. 
 Vilely done to death degrading ? 
 
 Spellbound behind the stove it stands. 
 And like an elephant expands ! 
 It fills the alcove up complete : 
 Into a mist 'twill melt away. 
 Ascend not to the ceding ! Lay 
 Thyself down at the master's feet. 
 Thou see'st, I threaten not in vain. 
 I'll scorch thee up with holy fire ! 
 For that dread hght best not remain, 
 Which burns with threefold glow ! Eetire, 
 Nor wait till I, thou spawn of hell. 
 Let loose on thee my mightiest spell ! 
 
 Mephistopheles {comes forward, as the mist subsides, in 
 the dress of a travelling scholar, from behind the stove). 
 
 What is the use of all this mighty stir ? 
 Can I in anything oblige you, sir ? 
 
 Fausi. 
 
 So this, then, was the kernel of the brute ! 
 A travelling scholar ? Here's a pleasant jest ! 
 
FA UST. 63 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Your learned worship liiunbly I salute. 
 You gave me a fine sweating, I protest. 
 
 Faust. 
 What is thy name ? 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 Methinks the question's mean, 
 For one who holds the Word so very cheap, 
 Who, scorning all mere semblances, has been 
 Brooding on things in their quintessence deep ! 
 
 Fatjst. 
 
 Of gentlemen like you one may 
 
 The nature mostly from the names surmise, 
 
 Where what ye are they all too plainly say. 
 
 When they " Destroyer" style you, " Flygod, Prince of lies !" 
 
 Speak, then ! Who art thou ? 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Part of the power, that still 
 Produces Good, while stiU devising 111. 
 
 Faust. 
 A rare enigma ! Say what it implies. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 The spirit I, that evermore denies. 
 And rightly am I thus employ'd. 
 For surely nought was e'er begot, 
 But it deserved to be destroy'd ; 
 So were it better, things should not 
 
64 FAUST. 
 
 Be into being brought at all. 
 Thus all these matters, which you call 
 Sin, Mischief, — ^Evil in a word, 
 Are my congenial element. 
 
 Fatjst. 
 
 I heard 
 You call yourself a part, yet see 
 You stand there whole as whole can be. 
 
 Mephistophbibs. 
 
 Truth, truth, I vow, all truth and piodesty ! 
 
 Though man, that Microcosm of Folly, seem 
 
 A perfect whole to his own self-esteem. 
 
 Myself I, being less pretentious, call 
 
 Part of the part, which at the first was all ; 
 
 Part of the darkness, from whose womb sprang light, 
 
 Proud light, which now doth with its dam contest 
 
 Her ancient rank, the space she fill'd of right ; 
 
 And yet it can't succeed, for, strive its best. 
 
 It cleaves to bodies, fetter'd to them fast : 
 
 It streams from bodies, makes them fair and bright ; 
 
 A body intercepts its passage, so 
 
 I hope, when bodies come to grief at last. 
 
 It will with them to sheer perdition go. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Your high vocation now I understand. 
 You find you can't annihilate wholesale. 
 So on a smaller scale you try your hand. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 And let me own, to very small avail. 
 That which is nothing's opposite. 
 
FAUST. ' 65 
 
 This sometMng, this great lumbering world, although 
 
 I've launch'd at it, with all my might, 
 
 Storm, deluge, earthquake, levin-brand, 
 
 I can't effect its overthrow ; 
 
 It hangs together stUl, good sea and land. 
 
 And then these misbegots accurst. 
 
 This spawn of brutes and men, alas ! 
 
 Defy me, let me try my worst. 
 
 How many have I sent to grass. 
 
 Yet young fresh blood, do what I will, 
 
 Keeps ever circulating still. 
 
 In water, in the earth, in air. 
 
 In wet, dry, warm, cold, everywhere 
 
 Germs without number are unftirl'd. 
 
 And but for fire and fire alone. 
 
 There would be nothing in the world. 
 
 That I could truly call my own. 
 
 Paust. 
 
 So, that cold devil's fist of thine 
 Thou dost not scruple to oppose 
 To the unsleeping power benign, 
 Beneath whose breath all lives and grows ; 
 It laughs to scorn yoiu' threats maUgn. 
 Strange son of chaos, hadst thou not 
 Best start upon another tack ? 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 
 It certainly is worth a thought ! 
 More about this when I come back. 
 But for thfe present have I leave. 
 Your leave to take myself away ? 
 
66 FAUST. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Why you should ask, I can't conceive. 
 We're strangers from this hour no more ; 
 So visit me in future, pray. 
 Just when and how the fancy strikes you. 
 Here is the window, here the door. 
 And there a chimney, if it Ukes you. 
 
 Mbphistophblbs. 
 
 I'd very quickly make my exit. 
 But that a trifling hindrance checks it ; 
 The wizard's foot, — alas ! 'tis true — 
 Upon your threshold — 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Ha, 'tis well ! 
 The Pentagram perplexes you. 
 But answer me, thou son of heU, 
 If that can thrust you backward, how 
 Contrived you to get in but now ? 
 How came a spirit so astute 
 To tumble into such a snare ? 
 
 Mephistopheles . 
 
 You '11 find, if you look closely to 't. 
 It is not drawn with proper care. 
 The outer angle's incomplete. 
 You may discover at a glance. 
 The lines converge, but do not meet. 
 
 Faust. 
 That was indeed a lucky chance ! 
 
FA UST. 67 
 
 So you should be my prisoner, then ? 
 Most rare good fortune, truly ! 
 
 Mbphistopheles . 
 
 When 
 The poodle bounded in, he took 
 No heed of what he was about. 
 Now things wear quite another look ; 
 The devil's in, and can't get out. 
 
 Faust. 
 Why through the window not withdraw ? 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 Of fiends and goblins 'tis a law. 
 Get in howe'er they please, but so 
 As they came in, out they must go. 
 Free in the first choice, in the last 
 We're very slaves ! 
 
 Fatjst. 
 
 So even hell 
 Has got its legal code. 'Tis weR. 
 Then with you gentlemen a fast 
 And binding contract may be made ? 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 Ay, and implicitly obey'd. 
 Whate'er is promised you by us 
 You to the letter shall enjoy. 
 Without abatement or alloy. 
 A theme too grave this to discuss 
 
68 FAUST. 
 
 So hurriedly ; when next we meet, 
 "We'll talk it fully out ; but now 
 I beg, nay earnestly entreat. 
 This once you'll let me make my bow. 
 
 Fatjst. 
 
 One moment, by your leave ! I hvnn 
 For such rare news as yours must be. 
 
 Mephistophelbs. 
 
 Let me go now, I'U soon return. 
 And then ask what you like of me. 
 
 Faitst. 
 
 Of choice, and not by my device, 
 You ran yourself into this plight. 
 Once catch the devU, hold him tight ! 
 He'U scarcely let you catch him twice. 
 
 Mbphistophbles. 
 
 Well, if you wish it, here I stay, 
 On one condition, that the while 
 I vrith my sleights familiar may 
 Your moments worthily beguUe. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Agreed ! you have my leave, — ^but mind 
 Your sleights are of the pleasing kind ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Within this hour, my friend, be sure, 
 You for your senses shall procure 
 More than you heretofore have found 
 
FAUST. 69 
 
 Within the year's unvaried round. 
 The songs my dainty spirits sing, 
 The lovely visions which they bring, 
 Are no mere empty glamour, no ! 
 Your very smeU entranced shall be, 
 Your palate lapp'd in ecstasy, 
 Your every nerve with rapture glow. 
 No preparation here we need. 
 We're in our places, so proceed ! 
 
 Spebits. 
 
 Disappear, disappear. 
 Ye dark arches drear ! 
 Let the blue sky of heaven 
 Look down on us here. 
 The beautiful blue sky 
 With friendliest cheer ! 
 Hence, clouds, begone, 
 That gloomily darkle ! 
 Lo now, anon, 
 Little stars sparkle, 
 Mellower suns 
 Shine in on us here. 
 Heaven's sons, bright 
 In the spirit's arraying, 
 In hovering flight 
 Are bending and swaying. 
 Souls with a passionate 
 Upward aspiring, 
 View them, pursue them, 
 Soaring untiring ! 
 And ribbons gay 
 Are flashing and gleaming 
 Where lovers stray, 
 
70 FA U8T. 
 
 Musing and dreaming, 
 Stray on by grove 
 And meadow, requiting 
 Love with return of love, 
 Life for life plighting ! 
 Bower on bower shining ! 
 Tendrils entwining ! 
 Grapes in huge clusters 
 Piled o'er and o'er. 
 Under the winepress 
 Spurting their gore. 
 ■Seething and foaming. 
 Wines gush into rills, 
 O'er the enamell'd stones 
 Rush from the hills, 
 Broaden to lakes, that 
 Reflect from their sheen 
 Mountains and brakes, that 
 Are mantled in green. 
 And birds of all feather, 
 Pure rapture inhaling, 
 Sunwards are sailing, 
 SaUing together. 
 On to the isles, 
 
 That he smiling and dreaming. 
 Where the bright billows 
 Are ripphng and gleaming ; 
 Where we see jocund bands 
 Dance on before us. 
 Over the meadow lands 
 Shouting in chorus, 
 AH in the fre# air 
 Every way rambling ; 
 Some up the mountains 
 
FA UST. 71 
 
 Climbing and scrambling ; 
 Some o'er the lakes and seas 
 Floating and swimming, 
 Others upon the breeze 
 Flying and skimming ; 
 All to the som'ees 
 Of life pressing onward, 
 Flush'd by the forces, 
 That carry them sunward ; 
 On to the measureless 
 Spaces above them, 
 On where the stars bless 
 The spirits that love them. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 He sleeps ! Well done, ye Uttle airy sprites ! 
 You've fairly lidlabied his wita to sleep : 
 I'm in your debt for these melodious sleights. 
 Thou'rt not the man, at least, not yet, to keep 
 The devil in thy clutch. Aroimd him play 
 With soothing visions from the realm of dream ; 
 Across his brain let wild illusions stray. 
 And fool his fancy with their meteor gleam ! 
 Ha ! tooth of rat, methinks, would serve me well, 
 To break me up this threshold's spell. 
 No need of lengthen'd conjuration. Hark ! 
 There rustles one, my voice will quickly mark ! 
 
 The master of the rats and mice. 
 Of flies, and frogs, and bugs, and Hce, 
 Commands you straightway to appear. 
 And nibble at this threshold here. 
 Where now he smears it o'er with oil. 
 Ha ! Here you are ! Now, to your toil ! 
 
2 FAUST. 
 
 The point that kept me back lies there 
 
 Just in the front beside the stair. 
 
 One nibble more, your task's complete ! 
 
 Now, Faustus, now dream on tUl next we meet. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Fatjst (awaking). 
 
 Am I again befool'd ? Vanish they so, 
 The throng of spirits that my fancy shaped ? 
 Was then the fiend a dream, a lying show, 
 And that a poodle, which but now escaped ? 
 
 END or ACT FIEBT. 
 
ACT II. 
 
 SCENE II.— Eaitst's Study. 
 Faust, Mephistophbles. 
 Faust. 
 KNOCK? Come in! Again my quiet broken? 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 'Tis I. 
 
 Faust. 
 Come in ! 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 Thrice must the words be spoken. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Come in, then ! 
 
 Mbphistopheles (entering). 
 
 So ! That job's discuss'd. 
 We shaU. be firmer friends, I trust ; 
 For, to dispel your fancies grim, 
 Behold me here, a springald trim, 
 In jerkin red, and laced with gold, 
 A cape of stiffest sUk, a bold 
 
74 FAUST. 
 
 Cock-feather in my cap ; and see ! 
 A long sharp rapier to boot ! 
 Now, prithee, be advised by me. 
 And get just such another suit ; 
 So, casting every tranmiel loose, 
 You '11 learn what life is, and its use. 
 
 Fattst. 
 
 In every dress I'm sure to feel the dire ' 
 Constraints of earthly Hfe severely : 
 I am too old to trifle merely, 
 Too young to be without desire. 
 What from the world have I to gain ? 
 ■" Thou shalt refrain ! Thou shalt refrain !" 
 This is the everlasting song. 
 That's humm'd and droned in every ear. 
 Which every hour, our whole hfe long. 
 Is croak'd to us in cadence drear. 
 I wake each morning in despair. 
 And bitter tears could weep, to see the sun 
 Dawn on the day, that in its round will ne'er 
 Accomplish one poor wish of mine, not one ; — 
 Yea, that with froward captiousness impairs 
 Each joy, of which I've dreamt, of half its zest, 
 And with hfe's thousand mean and paltry cares 
 Clogs the creations of my busy breast. 
 And when at evening's weary close 
 I lay me down in anguish on my bed. 
 There, even there, for me is no repose. 
 Scared as I am by visions wild and dread. 
 The god, who in my breast abides, 
 Through all its depths can stir my soul. 
 My every faculty he sways and guides. 
 Yet can he not what lies without control. 
 
FAUST. 75 
 
 And thus by life, as by a load, oppress'd, 
 I long for death, existence I detest. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 And yet death never is a wholly welcome guest ! 
 
 Fatjst. 
 
 Oh happy he, around whose brows he winds 
 
 In victory's glorious hour the blood-stain'd bays, 
 
 Whom on the bosom of his girl he finds. 
 
 Warm from the dance's wild and maddening maze ! 
 
 Oh had it been, 'neath that high spirit's might. 
 
 My fate, while tranced ia bUss, in death to sink ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Yet was there one, who on a certain night 
 A certain dark-brown mixture fear'd to drink. 
 
 Faust. 
 Eaves-df opping, then, is your dehght, I see ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 Omniscient I am not, yet much is known to me. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 If, when my brain was rack'd and reeling, 
 A sweet and old famiUar chime 
 Beguiled my all of childish feeling 
 With memories of a happier time ; 
 Now do I curse whate'er doth pen 
 With wizard coU these souls of ours. 
 And chains them to this dreary den 
 With cozening and deceitfid powers. 
 
76 FA UST. 
 
 And chief be curst the proud conceit, 
 Which girds our minds as with a fence, 
 Curst be the semblances that cheat. 
 And play and palter with our sense ! 
 Curst be the false and flattering dream 
 Of fame — a name beyond the grave, 
 Curst all that ours we fondly deem. 
 As wife and child, as plough and slave ! 
 Be Mammon curst, when he with pelf 
 Inspires to deeds were else renown, 
 "When he, to sot and pamper self, 
 Makes silken smooth our couch of down ! 
 On wine's balsamic juice a ciu'se, 
 A curse on love's ecstatic thraU, 
 A curse on hope, on faith, and worse 
 On patience be my curse than all ! 
 
 Chorus of Invisible Spirits. 
 
 Woe, woe ! 
 
 Thus hast laid it low. 
 
 The beautifiil world. 
 
 With merciless blow. 
 
 It totters, it crumbles, it tumbles abroad, 
 
 Shatter'd and crush'd by a demigod. 
 
 We trail 
 
 The ruins to chaos away, 
 
 And wail 
 
 The beauty that 's lost, weU-a-day ! 
 
 Of the children of clay 
 
 Thou mighty one thou. 
 
 Fairer, more glorious, now 
 
 Build it once more, 
 
 Within thine own bosom bmld it up ! Here 
 
FAUST. 77 
 
 A new life-career 
 
 With quicken'd sense 
 
 Commence ! 
 
 And songs, unheard hefore, 
 
 Shall chime upon thine ear ! 
 
 Mbphistophblbs. 
 
 These my tiny spirits be. 
 
 Hark, with what sagacity 
 
 They advise thee to pursue 
 
 Action, pleasure ever new ! 
 
 Out into the world so fair 
 
 They would lure and lead thee hence. 
 
 From this lonely chamber, where 
 
 Stagnate Ufe and soul and sense. 
 
 No longer trifle with the wretchedness, 
 
 That, like a vulture, gnaws your life away ! 
 
 The worst society will teach you this, 
 
 You are a man 'mongst men, and feel as they. 
 
 Yet 'tis not meant, I pray you, see, 
 
 To thrust you 'mong the rabble rout ; — 
 
 I'm none of your great folks, no doubt. 
 
 But if, in fellowship with me. 
 
 To range through hfe you are content, 
 
 I will most cheerfully consent 
 
 To be your own upon the spot. 
 
 I am your chum. You'd rather not ? 
 
 Well ! If your scruples it wiQ save, 
 
 I am your servant, yea, your slave ! 
 
 Faust. 
 And in return what must I do for you ? 
 
78 FAUST. 
 
 Mbphistophbles . 
 Oh, time enough to talk of that ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Nay, nay ! 
 The devil's selfish — is and was alway — 
 And is not like for mere God's sake to do 
 A liberal turn to any child of clay. 
 Out with the terms and plainly ! Such as thou 
 Are dangerous servants in a house, I trow. 
 
 Mbphistophelbs. 
 
 I bind myself to serve you here, — to do 
 Your bidding promptly, whatsoe'er it be, 
 And when we come together yonder, you 
 Are then to do the same for me. 
 
 Faitst. 
 
 I prize that yonder at a rush ! 
 Only this world to atoms crush. 
 And then that other may arise ! 
 From earth my every pleasure flows, 
 Yon Sun looks down upon my woes. 
 Let me but part myself from those, 
 Then come what may, in any guise ! 
 To idle prate I'U close mine ears, 
 If we hereafter hate or love, 
 Or if there be in yonder spheres, 
 Ab here, an Under and Above ! 
 
 Mbphistophbles. 
 
 You're in the proper mood to venture ! Bind 
 Yourself, and pleasure in my sleights you 'U find, 
 
FAUST. 79 
 
 While this life lasts. I'll give you more, 
 Than eye of man hath ever seen hefore. 
 
 Fatjsi. 
 
 What wilt thou give, thou sorry devil ? When 
 
 Were the aspiring souls of men 
 
 Eathom'd by such a thing as thee ? 
 
 Oh, thou hast food that satisfieth never, 
 
 Gold, ruddy gold thou hast, that restlessly 
 
 Slips, like quicksilver, through the hand for ever ; 
 
 A game, where we must losers be ; 
 
 A girl, that, on my very breast, 
 
 My neighbour woos with smile and wink ; 
 
 Fame's rapturous flash of godlike zest, 
 
 That, meteor-like, is doom'd to sink. 
 
 Show me the fruit that, ere 'tis pluck'd, doth rot, 
 
 And trees that every day grow green anew ! 
 
 Mephistophblbs. 
 
 Such task as this afirights me not. 
 I have such treasures at command for you. 
 But, my good friend, the time draws nigh, 
 When we may banquet on the best in peace ! 
 
 Fattst. 
 
 If e'er at peace on sluggard's couch I he. 
 Then may my Ufe upon the instant cease ! 
 Cheat thou me ever by thy glozing wUe, 
 So that I cease to scorn myself, or e'er 
 My senses with a perfect joy beguile. 
 Then be that day my last ! I offer fair. 
 How say'st thou ? 
 
 Mbphistophblbs. 
 
 Done! 
 
80 FAUST. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 My hand upon it ! There ! 
 If to the passing moment e'er I say, 
 " Oh Hnger yet ! thou art so fair !" 
 Then cast me into chains you may. 
 Then will I die without a care ! 
 Then may the death-bell sound its call, 
 Then art thou from thy service free. 
 The clock may stand, the index fall, 
 And time and tide may cease for me ! 
 
 MBPEaSTOPlTELKS. 
 
 Think well ; we shan't forget the terms you name. 
 
 Faust. 
 Your perfect right I must allow. 
 Not rashly to the pact I came. 
 I am a slave as I am now ; 
 Your's or another's, 'tis to me the same ! 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 Then at the Doctors' feast this very day 
 Will I my post, as your attendant, take. 
 Just one thing more ! To guard against mistake, 
 Oblige me with a line or two, I pray. 
 
 Faust. 
 Pedant, must thou have writing too ? 
 Has thou no true man, or man's promise known? 
 Is not my word of mouth enough for you. 
 To pledge my days for all eternity ? 
 Does not the universe go raving on. 
 In all its ever-eddying currents, free 
 To pass from change to change, and I alone. 
 
PA UST. 81 
 
 Shall a mere promise cm'b or fetter me ? 
 
 Yet doth man's heart so hug the dear deceit, 
 
 Who would its hold without a pang undo ? 
 
 Blest he, whose soul is with pure truth replete, 
 
 No sacrifice shall ever make him rue. 
 
 But, oh, your stamp'd and scribbled parchment sheet 
 
 A spectre is, which all men shrink to view. 
 
 The word dies ere it quits the pen, 
 
 And wax and sheep-skin lord it then. 
 
 What would you have, spirit of ill ! 
 
 Brass, marble, parchment, paper ? — Say, 
 
 Am I to write with pen, or style, or graver ? 
 
 I care not — choose whiche'er you will. 
 
 Mephistopkelbs. 
 Why throw your eloquence away. 
 Or give it such a very pungent savour ? 
 Pshaw ! Any scrap will do — 'tis quite the same — 
 With the least drop of blood just sign your name. 
 
 Fatist. 
 If that will make you happy, why, a claim 
 So very whimsical I'll freely favour. 
 
 Mbphistophelbs . 
 Blood is a juice of quite pecuHar kind. 
 
 Faust. 
 Fear not that I the compact will evade ! 
 My life's whole struggle, heart and mind, 
 Chimes with the promise I have made. 
 Too high I've soar'd — ^too proudly dreamt, 
 I'm only peer for such as thee ; 
 The Mighty Spirit spftms me with contempt, 
 And Nature veils her face from me. 
 
82 FAUST. 
 
 Thought's chain is snapt ; — for many a day 
 
 I 've loathed all knowledge every way. 
 
 So quench we now our passions' fires 
 
 In sense and sensual deUghts, 
 
 Unveil all hidden magic sleights 
 
 To minister to our desires ! 
 
 Let us plunge in the torrent of time, and range 
 
 Through the weltering chaos of chance and change, 
 
 Then pleasure and pain, disaster and gain 
 
 May course one another adown my hrain. 
 
 Change and excitement may work as they can, 
 
 Rest there is none for the spirit Of man. 
 
 Mbphistophules. 
 
 To you is set nor goal nor stint. 
 If you'd sip the sweetest of everything, 
 And hawk at pleasure upon the wing, 
 Much joy, I'm sure, I wish you in't. 
 Only fall to, and don't he coy. 
 
 Fattst. 
 
 Again I say, my thoughts are not of joy. 
 
 I devote myself to the whirl and roar, 
 
 To the hHss that throbs with a pulse like pain. 
 
 To the hate that we dote on and fondle o'er,. 
 
 The defeat that inspirits both nerves and brain. 
 
 Of its passion for knowledge cured, my soul 
 
 Henceforth shall expand to all forms of woe. 
 
 And all that is all human nature's dole 
 
 In my heart of hearts I shall feel and know ; 
 
 With highest, lowest, in spirit I shall cope. 
 
 Pile on my breast their joys, their griefs, their caies. 
 
 So all men's souls shall come within my scope. 
 
 And mine at last go down a wreck like theirs. 
 
FAUST. 83 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 Oh, trust to me, who have through many a year 
 
 On this tough morsel chew'd the cud. 
 
 That from the cradle to the hier 
 
 No man of mortal flesh and blood 
 
 Hath e'er digested the old leaven. 
 
 Trust one of us, this whole so vast 
 
 Is only for the God of Heaven ! 
 
 In everlasting radiance He is glass'd. 
 
 Us hath He into outer darkness cast. 
 
 And you, you mortals, only may 
 
 See day succeed to night, and night to day. 
 
 Faust. 
 Nay, but I wiU. 
 
 Mephistophblbs. 
 That 's well enough to say ; 
 Only I don't quite see my way. 
 Art 's long, time short. You 'd best permit 
 Yourself to be advised a bit. 
 Club with a poet ; soaring free. 
 Let liim the realm of fancy sweep. 
 And every noble quality 
 Upon your honour'd forehead heap ; 
 The lion's magnanimity. 
 The fleetness of the bind,) 
 The fiery blood of Italy, 
 The Northern's constant mind. 
 Let him for you the art divine. 
 High aims with cunning to combine. 
 And, with young blood at fever full. 
 To love on system and by rule. 
 
84 FAUST. 
 
 A gentleman of such a kind 
 I should myself be glad to find, 
 And, 'sooth, by me so rare a wight 
 Should be Sir Mierocosmus hight. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 What am I, then, 'if never by no art 
 
 The crown of mortal natm'e may be gain'd. 
 
 For which our every energy is strain'd ? 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 Thou art, when all 's done, what thou art. 
 A periwig with countless ringlets buy, 
 Array thy feet in socks a cubit high, 
 StUl, still thou wilt remain just what thou art. 
 
 Faitst. 
 
 'Tis true, I feel ! In vain have I amass'd 
 Within me all the treasures of man's mind. 
 And when I pause, and sit me down at last. 
 No new power weUing inwardly I find ; 
 A hairbreadth is not added to my height, 
 I am no nearer to the Infinite. 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 
 Good sir, you view these matters just 
 
 As any common mortal would ; 
 
 But take a higher strain we must. 
 
 Nor let hfe's joys our grasp elude. 
 
 Why, what the deuce ! Sure, foot and hand 
 
 And head and heart are yours ! And what 
 
 I can enjoy, control, command, 
 
 Is it the less my own for that ? 
 
 If I for horses six can pay. 
 
FA UST. 85 
 
 Their powers are added to my store ; 
 
 A proper man I dash away, 
 
 As though I had legs twenty-four. 
 
 Up then, no more a dreamer be. 
 
 But forth into the world with me ! 
 
 I tell you what ; your speculating wretch 
 
 Is like a beast upon a barren waste, 
 
 Eound, ever round, by an ill-spirit chased, 
 
 "Whilst all about him fair green pastures stretch. 
 
 Faust. 
 But how begin ? 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 
 We start at once. 
 Ugh ! what a place of torture dire ! 
 Call you this life — yourself to tire. 
 And some few yoimgsters, each a dunce ? 
 Leave that to neighbour Pavmch to do. 
 Why plague yourself with threshing straw ? 
 What's best of all that 's known to you. 
 You dare not teU these striplings raw. 
 I hear one now upon the stair. 
 
 Faust. 
 I cannot see him. 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 Long and late, 
 Poor boy, he 's waited. In despair 
 We must not send tiim from the gate. 
 Give me your cap and gown : the mask. 
 You 'U see, wiU fit me to a hair. 
 
 [Changes his dress. 
 
86 FAUST. 
 
 Now leave all to my wit. I ask 
 
 But fifteen minutes. Go now ! There ! 
 
 And for om' pleasant trip prepare. [Exit Faui 
 
 Mbphistopheles {■putting on Faust's gown). 
 
 Only scorn reason, knowledge, all that can 
 Give strength, or might, or dignity to man. 
 And let thyself be only more and more 
 Besotted by the spirit of lies 
 With faith in necromantic lore. 
 Its shams, delusions, sorceries. 
 And thou art mine beyond recall ! — 
 Fate to this man a soul has given. 
 That brooks not to be held in thrall. 
 But onward evermore is driven, 
 And, on its own mad fancies bent, 
 In earth's delights finds no content. 
 Him will I drag through all the fires 
 Of passions, appetites, desires. 
 Through all the dull unmeaning round 
 Of man and woman, sight and sound. 
 Oh, he shall sprawl, be stunn'd, stick fast 
 In sheer bewilderment at last. 
 His longings infinite to whet. 
 Dainties and drink shall dance before 
 His fever'd hps ; nor shall he get 
 The peace he'U pray for evermore. 
 Here and hereafter such as he 
 Are mark'd for doom ; and even although 
 He had not sold himself to me. 
 He must perforce have come to woe. 
 
FAUST. 
 
 Enter a Student. 
 Stttdbnt. 
 
 To town quite recently I came, 
 And make it, sir, my earliest care 
 To see and talk with one, whose name 
 Is named with reverence everywhere. 
 
 Mephistophblbs. 
 
 You 're too polite ! A man you see, 
 Like scores of other men, in me. 
 Elsewhere have you not found your way ? 
 
 Student. 
 
 Take me in hand, oh do, sir, pray ! 
 I 've every wish, nay have, in truth, 
 A very passion to be taught, 
 Some money, too, and health and youth ; 
 My mother scarcely could be brought 
 To part with me ; but come I would. 
 To learn whate'er 'tis best I should. 
 
 Mbphistophbles. 
 
 If such be really the case. 
 
 You 've come to just the proper place. 
 
 Student. 
 
 Yet I, the honest truth to say, 
 Already wish myself away ! 
 These walls and lecture rooms I find 
 By no means of a pleasant kind. 
 All is so close, so cramp'd, so mean. 
 No trees, nor anything that 's green, — 
 
88 FAUST. 
 
 Mew'd up in them, my spirits sink ; 
 I neither hear, nor see, nor think. 
 
 Mephistopeeles. 
 
 Hahit alone cures that. Just so 
 The child at first will not, you know. 
 Take kindly to its mother's breast, 
 But soon it suckles there with zest. 
 Even thus at wisdom's breast wiU you 
 Each day find pleasure ever new. 
 
 Student. 
 
 Upon her neck I'U hang wititi joy ; the way 
 To clamber there, do you, sir, only say. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Ere you go fiirther, say, on which 
 Of all the faculties your fancies pitch. 
 
 Stutent. 
 
 Sir, my ambition is to be 
 A scholar widely read and sound. 
 All things on earth, in heaven, or sea. 
 To grasp with comprehensive view. 
 In short, to master all the round 
 Of science and of nature too. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 You 're on the right track ; only don't 
 Get scatter-brain'd in the pursuit. 
 
 Student. 
 
 Oh never fear, sir ; — ^that I won't. 
 Body and soul I 'U buckle to 't. 
 
FA VST. 89 
 
 Yet should I like upon occasion 
 Some freedom, some small relaxation, 
 When skies are bright, and fields are gay, 
 Upon a summer's holiday. 
 
 Mbphistophblbs. 
 
 Use weU your time, — so fast it flies ; 
 
 Yet Method teaches, in what wise 
 
 Of time itself you may make prize. 
 
 And, first and foremost to that end, 
 
 I counsel you, my dear young friend, 
 
 A course of Logic to attend. 
 
 Your mind wiU. then be so well braced, 
 
 In Spanish boots so tightly laced. 
 
 That henceforth, by discretion taught, 
 
 'TwiU creep along the path of thought. 
 
 And not, with all the winds that blow. 
 
 Go WiU-o'-Wisping to and fro. 
 
 Then many a good day wiU be spent 
 
 In teaching, that the things you used 
 
 To knock off at a stroke, with just 
 
 As little thought ov pains, as went 
 
 To eating or to drinking, must 
 
 Be by First ! Second ! Third ! produced. 
 
 The web of thought, we may assume. 
 
 Is like some triumph of the loom, 
 
 Where one small simple treddle starts 
 
 A thousand threads to motion, — ^where 
 
 The flying shuttle shoots and darts. 
 
 Now over here, now under there. 
 
 We look, but see not how, so fast 
 
 Thread blends with thread, and twines, and mixes. 
 
 When lo ! one single stroke at last 
 
 The thousand combinations fixes : 
 
90 FAUST. 
 
 In steps me then Philosophy, and proves, 
 
 That, heing set in certain grooves. 
 
 Things which have pass'd before your eyes 
 
 Could by no chance be otherwise. 
 
 The Fu'st was so, the Second so. 
 
 Ergo the Third and Fourth ensued ; 
 
 But given no First nor Second, no 
 
 Third, yea, nor Fourth had been or could. 
 
 Scholars in matters of this kind 
 
 Are everywhere profound believers. 
 
 Yet none of them, that I can find. 
 
 Have signalised themselves as weavers. 
 
 He that would study and portray 
 
 A living creature, thinks it fit 
 
 To start with finding out the way 
 
 To drive the spirit out of it. 
 
 This done, he holds within his hand 
 
 The pieces to be named and stated. 
 
 But, ah ! the spirit-tie, that spann'd 
 
 And knit them, has evaporated. 
 
 This process chemic science pleases 
 
 To call Naturae Enoheiresis, 
 
 And, in the very doing so, it 
 
 Makes of itself a mock, and does not know it. 
 
 Stttdent. 
 I don't entirely comprehend. 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 In that respect you '11 quickly mend, 
 When once you learn, with true insight 
 To classify all things aright. 
 
FA UST. 91 
 
 ■ Sttjdent. 
 
 I'm so perplex'd with what you've said, 
 That just for all the world I feel, 
 As if some clattering mill-wheel 
 Were turning, turning in my head. 
 
 Mbphistophblbs. 
 
 Before all other studies you 
 Must Metaphysics next pursue. 
 There see, that you profoundly scan 
 What ne'er was meant for hrain of man ; 
 Be thought or no thought in your head, 
 line phrases there will do instead : 
 And mind, that this half year in all 
 You do you 're most methodical. 
 Pive hours of lecture daily ; so 
 Be in your seat right to the minute ! 
 Prepare the subject, ere you go. 
 Be thoroughly well read up in it. 
 Thus see, that the professor's stating 
 No more than all the textbooks show ; 
 Yet still write down each word as though 
 He were the Holy Ghost dictating. 
 
 Student. 
 
 No need to say that to me twice. 
 
 I see 'tis excellent advice ; 
 
 For we take home, and study, quite 
 
 At ease, what 's down in black and white. 
 
 Mephistophblbs. 
 But choose some Faculty. 
 
92 FA UST. 
 
 Student. 
 
 At the mere name 
 Of Jurisprudence I rebel. 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 In that, I own, you 're not so much to blame. 
 
 For what that science is, I know full well. 
 
 Laws are transmitted, as one sees. 
 
 Just like inherited disease. 
 
 They're handed down from race to race. 
 
 And noiseless gUde from place to place. 
 
 Eeason they tvan to nonsense ; worse, 
 
 They make beneficence a curse ! 
 
 Ah me ! That you 're a grandson you, 
 
 As long as you 're alive, shall rue. 
 
 The law, which is within us placed 
 
 At birth, unhappily about 
 
 That law there 's never any doubt, 
 
 Stitdent. 
 
 Your words have heighten'd my distaste. 
 Oh fortunate the man, whom you 
 Vouchsafe to give instruction to ! 
 I almost think. Theology 
 Would be the study best for me. 
 
 Mephistophelbs. 
 
 I should not wish, friend, to mislead you ; 
 Yet in that branch of lore, indeed, you 
 Win find it hard to keep away 
 From paths, that carry far astray. 
 In it so much hid poison lies, 
 Which you may fail to recognize, 
 
FAUST. 93 
 
 Nay, will most probably confound 
 
 With the true medicine around. 
 
 But here again one rule is clear ; 
 
 To one, and but one guide, give ear. 
 
 Take all his words as gospel in, 
 
 And swear by them through thick and thin. 
 
 As a broad principle, hold on 
 
 By words, words, words ! So you, anon, 
 
 Through their unfaUing doors the fane 
 
 Of perfect certainty wiU gain. 
 
 Student. 
 
 But surely, sir, a meaning should 
 In words be always imderstood ? 
 
 Mbphistophbles. 
 
 No doubt, no doubt ! Yet 'twere absurd. 
 
 Upon that point to feel too much concern ; 
 
 Since just where meaning fails, a word 
 
 Comes patly in to serve your turn. 
 
 Words, my young friend, — why, nothing suits 
 
 So well as matter for disputes ; 
 
 With words your systems you can weave in. 
 
 Words are such fine things to beUeve in, 
 
 And from a word no jot or tittle 
 
 Can be abstracted, much or little. 
 
 Stxtdbnt. 
 
 I fear my numerous questions tease you ; 
 Yet once more I must trouble you. 
 On Medicine I would fain, so please you, 
 Eeceive a pregnant word or two ? 
 Three years, they slip away so fast, 
 And, Heavens ! the field is quite too vast. 
 
94 FAUST. 
 
 Still with a hint a man may hope 
 His way with more success to grope. 
 
 Mephistophbles (aside). 
 
 This prosing hores me. I must play 
 The devil now in my own way. 
 Aloud.'] Well, any simpleton may seize 
 The soul of Medicine with ease — 
 You simply study through and through 
 The world of man and nature too, 
 To end with leaving things to Grod, 
 To make or mar them. 'Tis in vain. 
 That you go mooning all abroad. 
 Picking up science grain by grain : 
 Each man learns only what he can. 
 But he that has the gift and power, 
 To profit by the passing hour, 
 He is your proper man ! 
 You 're not Dl-built, — will, I conceive. 
 Shew mettle on occasion due ; — 
 If you but in yourself beheve, 
 Others will then believe in you. 
 Especially be sure to find 
 The way to manage the womenkind. 
 Their everlasting Ohs ! and Ahs ! 
 Of this be sure, 
 
 "Whate'er their fashion or their cause. 
 All from one point admit of cure. 
 With air respectful and demure 
 Approach as they advance, and, mum ! 
 You have them all beneath your thumb. 
 But a degree must first instil 
 Conviction in them, that your skiU 
 Surpasses other people's ; then 
 
FAUST. 95 
 
 At once they make you free of all 
 Those tete-sl-tete endearments small, 
 Years scarce secra'e for other men : 
 The little pnlse adroitly squeeze, 
 With looks on fire with passion seize, 
 And boldly clasp the tapering waist. 
 To see if it be tightly laced. 
 
 Stttdbnt. 
 
 Oh, that is much more in my way ! 
 One sees at least the where and how. 
 
 Mephistopheles . 
 
 Dear friend, all theory is grey, 
 And green life's golden tree. 
 
 Student. 
 
 I vow, 
 I'm like one in a dream. Might I 
 Intrude on you some other time, to hear 
 Your wisdom make the grounds of aU this clear ? 
 
 Mbphistophbies. 
 So far as I can serve you, I will try. 
 
 Student. 
 
 I cannot teaj myself away, 
 
 Let me before you, sir, my album lay ; 
 
 Some small memorial of your favour, pray ? 
 
 Mephistophei.es. 
 With all my heart. [ Writes and returns the booh. 
 
96 FAUST. 
 
 Student {reads). 
 
 Eritis sicut Deus, scientes honum et malum.. 
 
 [^Closes it reverentially, and retires. 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 Take for your law the ancient saw, and that cousin of 
 
 mine, the snake. 
 And, with that likeness of yours to God, your heart is 
 
 like to break. 
 
 Faust (entering). 
 And now where shall we go ? 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 You 've but to name 
 What place you choose, — to me 'tis quite the same. 
 Suppose we see the small folk &st. 
 And then upon the great ones birrst. 
 With what delight, what profit, too. 
 You 'II revel the pleasant circuit through ! 
 
 Fatjst. 
 
 But with my long beard can I face 
 Society ? I want the grace. 
 The easy, smooth, and polish'd air. 
 That of a man's expected there. 
 Nor could I learn it, if I would. 
 Adapt myself I never could 
 To what the world demands of all. 
 And in a crowd I feel so small, 
 'Tis certain I shall always be 
 Embarrass'd when in company. 
 
FAUST. 97 
 
 Mbphistopheies. 
 
 AH that will come in time. Be self-possess'd ! 
 In that one word is life's whole art express'd. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 But how are we to travel ? "Where 
 Are horses, servants, carriage, pray ? 
 
 Mbphistophbles. 
 
 This cloak out so we 've but to lay, 
 And 'twill transport us through the air. 
 In this bold trip, no need to cumber 
 Yourself with luggage and such lumber. 
 A. little gas, which I 've at hand. 
 Will waft us straight o'er sea and land. 
 And, as we travel lightly, too, 
 On at a rattling pace we '11 spin. 
 I wish you joy, friend, of the new 
 Career of life you now begin. 
 
 SCENE II. — A-TJEbbach's Cellar at Leipzig. 
 A Drinking Party of Boon Cowpanions. 
 
 Feosch. 
 
 ILL nobody drink ? Is there never a joke. 
 Among you, or bit of fim to poke ? 
 At other times you can blaze away ; 
 But, egad, you're all like damp straw to-day. 
 
 Bbanbeh. 
 Your fault ! You do nothing to make us jolly, 
 No beastliness, no stupid folly. 
 
FAUST. 
 
 Fbosch {flings a glass of wine at his head). 
 There 's both for you ! 
 
 Bbandeb. 
 Brute ! Beast ! 
 
 Fbosch. 
 
 You sought it. 
 My lad of wax, and now you 've caught it ! 
 
 SlEBBL. 
 
 Any fellow that quarrels, kick him out ! 
 Come, clear your throats, hoys, swill and shout 
 Hip, hip, huzza ! 
 
 Altmatee. 
 
 I'm lost! Oh dear! 
 Some cotton ! This rowdie splits my ear ! 
 
 SlBBBL. 
 
 Until the vaults with the echo reel. 
 The strength of the bass you never feel. 
 
 Fbosch. 
 
 Eight ! Those that don't like it needn't stay ! 
 Ah, tara, lara, da ! 
 
 Altmatee. 
 Ah, tara, lara, da ! 
 
 Fbosch. 
 Our throats are tuned up, so fire away ! 
 
FA UST. 99 
 
 {Sings). 
 The dear old Eoman Empire, how 
 Does it manage to hang together ? 
 
 Bbandee. 
 
 A filthy song ! A political song ! Me, fie ! 
 A most offensive song, say I. 
 Thank God each morning you have not 
 To care for that same Eoman Empire got. 
 I hold it a thing to be grateful for, 
 That I 'm neither Kaiser nor Chancellor. 
 StiE, we should have a chief, and may, I hope. 
 We will, we shall, we must elect a Pope ! 
 I need not tell you, for you 're aU aware, 
 What qualities weigh heaviest there, 
 And lift a man into the chair. 
 
 Ebosch {sings). 
 
 ' Ely away, fly away. Lady Nightingale, 
 
 Over the mountain, and over the dale ! 
 My to my sweetheart out over the sea. 
 And greet her a thousand times from me. 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 No greetings, ho, to sweetings ! 'Tis exceedingly improper ! 
 
 Erosch. 
 
 I will greet her, kiss her, treat her ! You shan't put on me 
 a stopper. 
 
 {Sings). 
 Undo the bolts at dead of night. 
 And let the lad that loves you in. 
 But in the grey of the morning light 
 Bar him without, and yourself within ! 
 
100 FAUST. 
 
 SrEBBL. 
 
 Sing on ! Our ears with her perfections din ! 
 
 My time will come to laugh, when you look hlue. 
 
 She led me a fool's dance, and so she will lead you. 
 
 I 'd give her for a lover a hobgoblin, 
 
 To toy with her on cross-roads in the dark ; 
 
 Ad old buck-goat, back from the Blooksberg hobbling, 
 
 Might tickle her up in passing for a lark ! 
 
 The blood and bone of any stout young blade 
 
 Are much too good for such an arrant jade. 
 
 No, no, the only greeting I wiU hear of 
 
 Is smashing all the gipsy's windows clear off. 
 
 Beanbeb, (striking the table). 
 
 Silence ! Silence ! To me give ear ! 
 You 'H all admit that I know what 's what. 
 We have some love-sick spoonies here. 
 And I must treat them to something pat. 
 And like to enUven their doleful cheer. 
 Of the very last fashion is my strain. 
 FuU chorus, mind, for the refrain 1 
 
 (Sings). 
 Once in a cellar there lived a rat, 
 
 His paunch it grew a thumper. 
 For he hved on nothing but butter and fat. 
 
 Not Luther's self was plumper. 
 The cook laid poison for him one day. 
 And he fell into a terrible way, 
 
 Aj3 if love's tortures twinged him ! 
 
 Chobits. 
 As if love's tortures twinged him ! 
 
FAUST. 101 
 
 And he ran out, and round about, 
 
 And he could not think what ail'd him. 
 And he scratch'd, and claw'd, and nibbled, and gnaw'd, 
 
 But his fury nought avail'd him ; 
 He felt the pains shoot from head to foot, 
 'Twas soon all up with him, poor brute. 
 
 As if love's tortures twinged him ! 
 
 CnoBrs. 
 As if love's tortures twinged him ! 
 
 In pain, in dismay, in broad noon-day. 
 
 He dash'd into the kitchen. 
 Fell down on the hearth, and there he lay. 
 
 Convulsed with a woful twitching ; 
 But the cook she laugh'd, when his pain she spy'd, 
 " Ha ! Ha ! He's at his last gasp ! " she cried, 
 
 As if love's tortures twinged him ! 
 
 Choetjs. 
 As if love's tortures twinged him ! 
 
 SrEBBL. 
 
 How easy it is to tickle flats ! 
 To lay down poison for poor rats 
 Is wit of such a spicy flavour ! 
 
 Bhanbeb. 
 No doubt they stand high in your favour. 
 
 AliTMATBB. 
 
 Fatguts is down in his luck, — 'tis that 
 Makes him sofl-hearted and dejected ; 
 
102 FAUST. 
 
 Poor devil, he sees in the hloated rat 
 The image of himself reflected. 
 
 Enter Faust and Mephistopheles. 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 Before all things I must bring you to 
 A circle of joUy dogs, that you 
 May see how lightly life can sit. 
 . Every day is a feast with such 
 Hard-drinking fellows as these. With much 
 Self-satisfaction and little wit, 
 Day after day, they may all be found, 
 Spinning along the same narrow roimd. 
 Like a young kitten pursuing its taU. 
 So long as their heads don't ache or ail. 
 And with mine host they can score their way, 
 No care, or misgiving at all have they. 
 
 Bbanbeb. 
 
 Strangers, and just arrived, that 's clear. 
 Their cut and deportment are so queer ! 
 Not been an hour in town, I'll swear. 
 
 Ebosch. 
 
 For once you 're right, old fellow, there. 
 Leipzig for ever ! 'Tis Paris in small ! 
 It gives us a style, sir, a style to us all. 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 For what do you these strangers take ? 
 
 Pbosch. 
 
 Just leave them to me. In a brace of shakes 
 Out of these fellows I'U worm the truth, 
 
FAUST. 103 
 
 As easy as di-aw you a young child's tooth. 
 Noblemen I should say they were, 
 They've such a haughty dissatisfied air. 
 
 Beandeb,. 
 Mountebanks ! That's about their level ! 
 
 Altmayeb. 
 Perhaps ! 
 
 FaoscH. 
 I '11 trot them. Pray you, note ! 
 
 Mephistopheles (to Fattst). 
 
 These scum would never surmise the devil. 
 Although he had them by the throat ! 
 
 Fatjst.' 
 Your servant, sirs ! 
 
 SiBBEL. 
 
 The same to you ! 
 \Ajside, looking askance at Mephistopheles. 
 Limps on one foot ? So queerly, too ! 
 
 MEPBaSTOPHELES. 
 
 Beside you have we leave our chairs to set ? 
 
 Instead of good drink, then, which here we cannot get, 
 
 We shall have your good company for cheer. 
 
 Altmayee. 
 You're mighty hard to please, it would appear ! 
 
104 FAUST. 
 
 Feosch. 
 
 Just fresh from Eippacli,- ain't you ? I dare say, 
 You supp'd, now, with Squire Hans, upon the way? 
 
 MBPmSTOPHBLES. 
 
 To-day we gallop'd past his door ; 
 But had much talk with him, the time hefore. 
 About his cousins here ; and he presents 
 To each of you through us his special eomphments. 
 [Bowing towards Fbosch. 
 
 Ai/TMAYBE (aside). 
 That's home ! A knowing dog ! 
 
 SiBBEL. 
 
 A biting wit ! 
 Fbosch. 
 I 'II serve him out, you '11 see. Just wait a bit ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Did we not hear — I can't be wrong — 
 Well practised voices chanting chorus ? 
 No doubt, the vaulted ceiling o'er us 
 Must echo rarely to a song. 
 
 Prosch. 
 You are a connoisseur of some pretence ? 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 Oh, no ! My powers are weak, my love immense. 
 
 Altmayeb. 
 Tip us a stave ! 
 
FAUST. 105 
 
 Mephistophblbs. 
 
 A score, if you incline. 
 
 SlEBBt. 
 
 Brand new, then, let it be, some jolly strain ! 
 
 Mephistophelbs. 
 
 We have quite recently return'd from Spain, 
 That beauteous land of song and wine. 
 
 (Sings). 
 
 A kiag there was, be 't noted, 
 "Who had a lusty flea. 
 
 Feosch. 
 
 Mark him, a flea ! You take the jest ? 
 Now, by my faith, a royal guest ! 
 
 MBPmsT0PH3:i,ES (sings). 
 
 A king there was, be 't noted, 
 
 "Who had a lusty flea. 
 And on this flea he doated. 
 
 And loved him tenderly. 
 A message to the tailor goes. 
 
 Swift came the man of stitches ; 
 " Ho, measure the youngster here for clothes, 
 
 And measure him for breeches ! " 
 
 Bbandeb. 
 
 Mind you impress on Snip to take 
 Especial care about the fit. 
 And, as he loves his head, to make 
 The breeches without wrinkles sit. 
 
106 FAUST. 
 
 Mephistopheles (resumes his song). 
 
 In silk and satin of the best 
 
 Soon was the flea array'd there, 
 Ribbons had he upon his breast, 
 
 Likewise a star display'd there ; 
 Prime minister anon he grew, 
 
 With star of huge dimensions. 
 And his kindred, male and female too. 
 
 Got titles, rank, and pensions. 
 
 And lords and ladies, high and fair, 
 
 Were grievously tormented ; 
 Sore bitten the queen and her maidens were. 
 
 But they did not dare resent it. 
 They even were afraid to scratch, 
 
 Howe'er our friends might rack them, 
 But we without a scruple catch, 
 
 And when we catch, we crack them. 
 
 Chobus. 
 
 But we without a scruple catch, 
 
 And when we catch, we crack them. 
 
 Fbosch. 
 Bravo ! First-rate ! 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 So perish aU 
 The race of fleas, both great and small. 
 
 Brakbbb. 
 
 Catch me them daintily on the hip 
 Between the nail and the finger-tip ! 
 
FAUST. 107 
 
 Altmayeh. 
 Hiizzah for freedom ! Huzzah for wine ! 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 
 To pledge a bumper glass to freedom, I 'd be glad, 
 Were not this wine of yours so execrably bad. 
 
 SiBBEL. 
 
 Let 's hear no more of that, Sir Superfine ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 But that our host were apt to be offended, 
 I 'd give these worthy fellows here 
 From our own cellar something splendid ! 
 
 Sebbel. 
 I '11 make that square, so never fear. 
 
 Fbqsch. 
 
 Make good your words, and you're a trump. The sample, 
 
 I charge you, though, to make it ample. 
 
 For, if I have to judge of tipple, I 
 
 Must have a good mouthful to judge it by. 
 
 Altmayeb (aside). 
 
 Soho ! They're from the Ehine, I see. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 A gimlet here ? 
 
 Bbanbbh,. 
 
 For what, now, can that be ? 
 You can't have got the hogsheads at the door ? 
 
108 FAUST. 
 
 AlTMAYEB. 
 
 The landlord's tool-chest's yonder on the floor. 
 
 Mephistopheles (talcing the gimlet, to Fbosch). 
 Now say, for which you have a mind ? 
 
 Fbosch. 
 What ! Have you them of every kind ? 
 
 Mbphistophbles. 
 Name each his choice, strong, sparkling, old, or heady ? 
 
 AiTMATEB (to !FbOSCH). 
 
 Aha, your Hps are watering already. 
 
 Fbosch. 
 
 Let it he Rhenish, if I may command. 
 For best of cheer I '11 back old Fatherland. 
 
 Mbphistophbles (horing a hole in the edge of the 
 table, where Fbosch is sitting), 
 
 A little wax to stop the hole ! Quick, quick ! 
 
 AiTMAYEE (to Fbosch). 
 Pshaw, this is palpably a juggler's trick ! 
 
 Mbphistophbles (to Bbanbbb). 
 And you ? 
 
 Bbandbe. 
 
 Champagne, champagne for me ! 
 Creaming and sparkling cheerily. 
 
 [MBPffiSTOPHELES hores ; meanwhile one of the 
 party has made stoppers of wax, and stopped 
 the holes. 
 
FAUST. 109 
 
 Bbandee. 
 One can't always put foreign gear aside ; 
 For good things we have often far to go. 
 Prenclimen no real German can abide, 
 He drinks their wines without a scruple, though. 
 
 SiBBBi {as Mbphistopheles approaches him). 
 The sour, I own, I can't away -with. 
 Pure sweet, I'd like a glass of that. 
 
 Mbphistopheles (lores'). 
 You shall, sir, have Tokay to play with. 
 
 AliTMAyBE. 
 
 No, no, sir, no ! I tell you what : 
 You 're making game, you are, of us. 
 
 Mbphistophbies. 
 That were somewhat too venturous 
 With men of mark like you. You doubt it ? 
 Quick ! TeE me without more ado, 
 '^Tiat wine I am to serve for you ? 
 
 AlTMAYEB. 
 
 Any ! So that you don't stand haggling long about it ! 
 
 [After all the holes have been bored, and 
 stoppers put into them. 
 
 Mbphistopheles (with strange gestwres). • 
 Wine-grapes of |he vine are born, 
 Front of he-goat sprouts with horn. 
 Wine is juice, and vine-stocks wood. 
 Wooden board yields wine as good ! 
 Here is truth for him that sees 
 Into nature's mysteries ; 
 
110 FAUST. 
 
 Miracles when you receive. 
 You have only to heheve ! 
 
 Now draw your stoppers, and fall to ! 
 
 All {(IS they draw the stoppers, and the wine eaeJi 
 has selected runs into his glass). 
 
 Oh fountain, beautiful to view 4 
 
 Mbphistopheles . 
 
 Be very careful ! Drink your fiU, 
 But see, that not a drop you spill ! 
 
 [They drinlc repeatedly. 
 
 All (sing). 
 
 As savagely joUy are we. 
 
 As any five hundred porkers ! 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 These sots from all restraint are freed. 
 And so are blest, and blest indeed. 
 
 Fatjst. 
 I'm sick of this, and would be gone. 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 Only a little moment stay ; 
 
 You 'U see a glorious display 
 
 Of what mere beasts they are, anon. 
 
 SiBBEL (drinhs carelessly ; wine is spilt on the 
 ground and turns into Jlame). 
 
 Help ! Hell 's broke loose ! We all are shent ! 
 
FAUST. Ill 
 
 Mephistophklbs (adjuring the flame). 
 
 Be qtriet, kindly element ! 
 
 [To the topers. 
 This time 'twas nothing but a tiny spark 
 Of purgatorial fire, not worth remark ! 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 Just wait, ,and your cock's comb I 'II mar. 
 You do not know, it strikes me, who we are. 
 
 Erosch. 
 His tricks a second time just let him try. 
 
 Altmateb. 
 Let 's send him to the right-about, say I. 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 Confound you, coming to provoke us 
 With playing off your hocus-pocus ! 
 
 Mephistophble 3. 
 Silence, old vat ! 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 You broomstick, you ! 
 And so you 'd fain be saucy, too ? 
 
 Beanbbk. 
 Wait, and I'U thi-ash you black and blue. 
 
 Altmaieb {draws a stopper from the table ; fire 
 shoots out towards him). 
 
 I bum ! I'm all on fire I 
 
112 FA UST. 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 The wizard ! 
 Down with him ! Stick him through the gizzard ! 
 
 {They draw their Jcnives, and make a 
 rush at IMbphistophelbs. 
 
 Mephistopheles (with solemn gesticulations). 
 
 Voices, that delude the ear, 
 Forms, that mock the eye, appear ! 
 Let the distant seem the near, 
 Be ye there and he ye here ! 
 
 {They stand amazed and stare at each other. 
 
 Altmateb. 
 
 Where am I ? "What a lovely land ! 
 
 Erosch. 
 
 Vineyards ! How strange ! 
 
 SiBBEL. 
 
 And grapes that court the hand ! 
 
 Bhanbeb. 
 
 Here, under these green leaves hy me, 
 See, what a stem ! What branches, see ! 
 
 {Seizes Siebel hy the nose. The rest do the same 
 with each other, and brandish their knives. 
 
 Mephistopheles (as lefore). 
 
 Phantoms of delusion, rise. 
 Lift the bandage from their eyes ! 
 And take note, ye swinish soaks, 
 In what wise the devU jokes ! 
 
 {He disappears with Faust. The topers 
 recoil from one another. 
 
FAUST. 113 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 What's this? 
 
 AlTMATEB. 
 
 How's this? 
 
 FaoscH. 
 
 Was that thy nose ? 
 
 BbANBEB (to SlEBEL.) 
 
 On thine, too, see, my fingers close ! 
 
 Altmaybb. 
 
 It sent a shock through all my Umbs ! 
 A chair ! I'm falling ! My head swims ! 
 
 Ebosch. 
 What aUs you all ? 
 
 Sebbel. 
 
 Where is he ? Where ? 
 If I can catch the knave, he dies, I swear. 
 
 Altmayeb. 
 
 Out of the ceUar-door, astride 
 A huge wine-tun, I saw him ride. 
 I feel like lead about the feet. 
 
 [Turning towards the table. 
 My ! Should the wine be running yet ! 
 
 SlEBEL. 
 
 'Twas all a sham, a trick, a cheat ! 
 
 Fbosch. 
 
 Yet, that it was wine, I would bet. 
 
 I 
 
114 FA UST. 
 
 Bbanbeb. 
 But how about the grapes ? 
 
 AlTMATEB. 
 
 Well, after that. 
 Doubt miracles who may, I won't, that 's flat. 
 
 SCENE III.— "Witches' Kitchen. 
 
 A large cauldron suspended above the fire upon a low hearth. 
 Through the fumes that ascend from it various figures are 
 visible. A female ape sits beside the cauldron skimming 
 it, and watching that it does not boil over. The male ape 
 with the young ones sits near her, and warms himself. 
 Walls and ceiling are decorated with witches'' furniture of 
 the most fantastic kind. 
 
 Fattst, Mephistophblbs. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 LOATHE this wizard trash ; yet you repeat, 
 
 That in this chaos of insane conceit 
 
 I shall my wasted strength repair? 
 
 Take counsel of an aged hag ? Oh shame ! 
 
 Can the foul mess, that simmers there, 
 
 Strike thirty winters from my frame ? 
 
 If you know nothing better, woe is me ! 
 
 Already hope has left me. Is there not 
 
 Some natural balsam or elixir, wrought 
 
 By spirit high for such extremity ? 
 
FAUST. 115 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 
 Now with yovir old sagacity you speak ! 
 
 There is a natural mean to make you young ; hut you 
 
 In quite a different hook for that must seek. 
 
 And in a chapter of the strangest, too ! 
 
 Pattst. 
 Speak ! Let me know it on the spot ! 
 
 Mbphistophelbs. 
 
 Good ! 'Tis a remedy that 's to he got 
 
 Sans sorcery, gold, or medicine. 
 
 Straight to the fields away ! Begin 
 
 To hack and delve with might and main. 
 
 Yourself and your desires confine 
 
 Within the very narrowest line. 
 
 On simple food yourself sustain, 
 
 With heasts hve as a beast, and think it not a bore 
 
 Yourself to dung the field you are to reap. 
 
 This, trust me, is the best of ways to keep 
 
 The fire of youth within you to fourscore. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 I am not used to toil, and 'tis too late to force 
 Myself to wield the spade. A life so bare. 
 So cramp'd, would drive me to despair. 
 
 Mbphistophelbs. 
 Then is the witch our sole resource. 
 
 FAtlST. 
 
 But why this beldame ? Cannot you 
 Without her aid the potion brew ? 
 
116 FA UST. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 That were fine waste of time. Go to ! 
 Eather would I a thousand bridges build. 
 Within the time 'twould take to brew it. 
 No matter how you may be skill'd. 
 You must give tireless patience to it. 
 A quiet spirit works at it for years ; 
 Time, only time, the fermentation clears, 
 And concentrates its subtle force. 
 All the ingredients of the stew 
 Are wondrous in their kind, and source. 
 The devil taught the witch, 'tis true. 
 But, make it, that he cannot do. 
 
 {Twming to the Apes. 
 A handsome brood as ever was ! 
 This is the lad, and this the lass. 
 
 [To the Apes. 
 The dame is not at home, it seems ? 
 
 The Apes. 
 
 She takes her 'rouse 
 
 Outside the house, 
 
 Up by the chimney among the beams. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 And how long is she apt to stay. 
 When she is out for such a cause ? 
 
 Apes. 
 
 We just have time to warm our paws. 
 And nothing more, while she 's away. 
 
 Mephistopheles (to Faust). 
 How like you them, the dainty brutes ? 
 
FAUST. 117 
 
 Faust. 
 Such loathsome creatures have I never seen. 
 
 Mbphistophbles. 
 
 Nay, nay ! A chat like this, I ween. 
 
 Is just the thing that best my fancy suits ! 
 
 [To the Apes. 
 Tell me, ye whelps accurst, what you 
 Are stirring there at such a rate ? 
 
 Apes. 
 Coarse beggar's broth we boil and stew. 
 
 Mephistophblbs. 
 Your custom for it will be great. 
 
 The He- Ape {approaching and fawning upon 
 Mbphistophbles).- 
 
 Tarry not, but in a trice. 
 
 Shake the box, and fling the dice ! 
 
 I am poor, so let me win ; 
 
 Poverty is such a sin ; 
 
 But, if money once I had. 
 
 Who would say, that I was mad ? 
 
 Mbphistophbles. 
 
 How happy, now, it would the monkey make, 
 If in the lottery he might only stake ! 
 
 [The young Apes, who have meanwhile been playing 
 with a large glohe, roll it forwards. 
 
 The Hb-Ape. 
 
 This is the world. 
 Evermore twirl'd 
 
118 FAUST. 
 
 Bound about, round about, 
 Destined to bound about ! 
 Mounting and sinking. 
 Like crystal clinking ; 
 Smashing Kke winking 
 Certain to foUow ! 
 All within hoUow. 
 Here 'tis all o'er bright. 
 Here even more bright ! 
 Living am L' 
 Dear sire, get away ! 
 Back, be afraid of that. 
 For thou must die ! 
 'Tis fashion'd of clay. 
 Potsherds are made of that ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 For what is the sieve here ? 
 
 He-Ape (takes it doivn). 
 
 Came you to thieve here. 
 
 Straight 'twould show me why you came. 
 
 [Runs to the She-Ape, and malces her 
 look through it. 
 Through the sieve look, look ! Dost thou 
 Recognize the thief, and now 
 Art afraid to name his name ? 
 
 Mephistophbles {approaches the fire.) 
 
 And this pot ? 
 
 The Apes {Male and Female'). 
 
 The crack-brain'd sot. 
 He knows not the pot, 
 He knows not the kettle ! 
 
Unmannerly brute ! 
 
 FAUST. 119 
 
 Mephistophelbs. 
 
 The He -Ape. 
 
 Look ye now, put 
 
 This whisk in your hand, and sit down on the settle. 
 [Forces Mbphistopheles to sit down. 
 
 Faust (wJio has, meanwhile, been standing before a mirror, 
 now advancing towards, and now retiring from, it). 
 
 What form divine is this, that seems to live 
 
 Within the ma^e glass before mine eyes ! 
 
 Oh love, to me thy swiftest pinion give. 
 
 And waft me to the region where she lies ! 
 
 Oh, if I stir beyond this spot, and dare 
 
 Advance to scan it with a nearer gaze, 
 
 The vision fe.des and dies as in a haze. 
 
 A woman's form beyond expression fair ! 
 
 Can woman be so fair ? Or must I deem. 
 
 In this recumbent form I see reveal'd 
 
 The quintessence of aU that heaven can yield ? 
 
 On earth can aught be found of beauty so supreme ? 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Why, when a God works hard for six whole days, 
 And when his task is over, says, " Bravo ! " 
 That he should turn out something to amaze, 
 Is nothing more than natiural, you know. 
 Gaze on your fill ! As choice a treasure 
 My power for you can soon provide ; 
 And happy he beyond all measure. 
 
120 FA UST. 
 
 Who has the luck to bear home such a bride ! 
 
 [Faust continues to gaze into the mirror. 
 Mephistophbles lounging on the settle, 
 and playing with the whisk, continues : — 
 Here like the king upon my throne I sit, 
 My sceptre here ! My crown, though, where is it ? 
 
 The Apes (who uja to this time have been indulging in all 
 sorts of fantastic gambols, bring Mephistophbles a crown 
 with loud acclamations). 
 
 O, deign, with a flood 
 Of sweat and of blood. 
 The crown to behme ! 
 
 [They handle the crown awkwardly, and 
 
 break it into two pieces, with which they 
 
 dance round and round. 
 'Tisdone! He! He! 
 We speak and we see. 
 We hear and we rhyme. 
 
 Faust (before the mirror). 
 Woe's me ! As though I should go mad, I feel ! 
 
 Mephistophbles (pointing to the Apes). 
 Mliy, even my head, too, begins to reel. 
 
 The Apes. 
 And if we make a lucky hit, 
 And if the words fall in and fit, 
 Thought's begot, and with the jingle 
 Seems to interweave and mingle. 
 
 Faust (as before). 
 My breast is all on fire ! Let us away ! 
 Even now 'tis for my peace too late. 
 
FA UST. 121 
 
 Mbphistophbles (still in the same position). 
 
 Well, every one must own, that they 
 
 Are candid poets, at any rate. 
 
 [The cauldron, which the She- Ape has neglected in 
 the interim, hegins to hoil over; a great flame 
 shoots out and rushes up the chimney. The 
 Witch comes shooting down the chimney with a 
 horrible shriek. 
 
 The Witch. 
 
 Au ! Au ! Au ! Au ! 
 
 Confounded beast ! Accursed sow ! 
 
 Neglecting the cauldron and singeing your dame, you 
 
 Beast accursed, I'U brain you, I'll lame you ! 
 
 [Espying Fattst and Mephistopheles. 
 What do I see here ? 
 Who may you be here ? 
 What do you seek here ? 
 How did you sneak here ? 
 May fire-pangs fierce 
 Your marrow pierce ! 
 
 [She dips the sicimming ladle into the cauldron, 
 and sprinkles flames on Fattst, Mephisto- 
 pheles, and the Apes. The Apes whimper. 
 
 Mbphistopheles (inverting the whisk, which he holds in his 
 hand, and laying about with it among the glasses and pots). 
 
 To smash ! To smash, 
 With all your trash ! 
 There goes your stew. 
 There goes your glass ! 
 You see, we too • 
 Our jest can pass ! 
 
122 FAUST. 
 
 You carrion, we 
 
 Can match your feat ! 
 
 Good time, you see. 
 
 To your tune we beat ! 
 
 [As the witch recoils full of rage and amazement. 
 Dost thou recognize me now ? 
 Scarecrow ! Atomy ! Dost thou 
 Recognize thy lord and master ? 
 What holds my hand, that I should not blast her ? 
 Her and her monkey-sprites together ? 
 Is all respect within thee dead 
 For me and for my doublet red ? 
 Dost recognize not the cock's feather ? 
 Have I so mask'd my face ? My name 
 Must I on the house-tops proclaim ? 
 
 The Witch. 
 
 Master, forgive my rough salute ! 
 
 But yet I see no cloven foot : 
 
 And where may your two ravens be ? 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 
 For this time that apology 
 
 May pass ; for 'tis, I can't forget, 
 
 A long while now, since last we met. 
 
 Besides, the march of intellect. 
 
 Which into shape, as time runs on, 
 
 Is licking all the world, upon 
 
 The devil's self has had effect. 
 
 The northern goblin no more shocks the sense ; 
 
 Horns, tails, and claws, are things you never see ; 
 
 As for the foot, with which I can't dispense, 
 
 That with society might injure me ; 
 
 And therefore I for many years 
 
FA UST. 123 
 
 Have, like young buckish cavaliers. 
 Among the upper circles gadded. 
 With calves most curiously padded. 
 
 The Witch (dandng). 
 
 I feel as if I were mad with sheer 
 Delight to see once more Dan Satan here ! 
 
 Mbphistophblbs. 
 Woman, that name offends my ear ! 
 
 Thb Witch. 
 Wherefore ? What wrong has it done you ? 
 
 Mbphistophblbs. 
 
 Tut! 
 It has been written down, for many a day. 
 With other things that men call fables ; but 
 No ^hit the better off for that are they. 
 The Wicked One they certainly ignore. 
 But Wicked Ones are numerous as before. ' 
 If name I must have, call me Baron ! That 
 Win do, although the title 's somewhat flat. 
 A squire of quite as high degree 
 Am I, as any squire can be. 
 My gentle blood you doubt not ; there 
 Is the escutcheon that I bear. 
 
 [Jl&te an obscene gesture. 
 
 The Witch (Laughs immoderately}. 
 
 Ha ! Ha ! That 's just hke you ! So clever ! 
 Always the same mad wag as ever. 
 
124 FAUST. 
 
 MJEPHISTOPHELES {tO FaTTSt). 
 
 Mark this, my friend ! "Wtate'er the hitch is, 
 This is the way to deal with witches. 
 
 The Witch. 
 Now, gentlemen, what is 't you seek ? 
 
 ■ Mbphistopheles. 
 
 A bumper of your famous brew. 
 Your oldest, though, I must bespeak : 
 Years doubly efficacious make it. 
 
 The Witch. 
 
 Eight gladly ! Here 's a flask ! I take it 
 
 Myself at times in little sips ; 
 
 All trace of stink has left it, too. 
 
 I 'U give it cheerfully to you. [Aside to Mephistophblbs. 
 
 But him there, if it touch his lips. 
 
 Unless he 's season'd 'gajnst its power. 
 
 You know, he cannot live an hour. 
 
 Mephistophelbs. 
 
 Oh, he is an especial friend, 
 
 'Tis just the thing to serve his end. 
 
 The best your kitchen can produce 
 
 I do not grudge him for his use. 
 
 So draw your circle, and unroll 
 
 Your spells, and hand him out a brimming bowl ! 
 
 [The Witch, with weird gestwes, drams a drele, 
 and places marvellous things within it ; mean- 
 while the glasses begin to ring, the cauldron to 
 sound and make music. Last of all she fetches 
 a great hoolc, places the Apes within the drele, 
 
FA UST. 125 
 
 vihere she makes them serve as a reading-desh, 
 and hold the torches. She beckons Faust to 
 approach. 
 
 Faust (to Mbphistophbles). 
 
 What is all this to end in, say ? 
 These mad paraphernalia. 
 These gestures and distortions frantic, 
 This mess of juggle and of antic, 
 I know them all too well of old. 
 And in profound aversion hold. 
 
 Mbphtstophblbs. 
 
 All hiunhug ! stuff to laugh at merely ! 
 But do not take things too severely ! 
 Being a doctor in her way, 
 She must some hocus-pocus play, 
 In order that on you her juice 
 May the desired effect produce. 
 
 [He forces Faust to enter the circle. 
 
 The Witch (with great emphasis declaims from 
 her hook). 
 
 This must ye ken ! 
 From one mate ten. 
 Drop two, and then 
 Make three square, which 
 Will make you rich ; 
 Skip o'er the four ! 
 From five and six, — 
 In that the trick 's, — 
 Make seven and eight, 
 And all is straight ; 
 
126 FA UST. 
 
 And nine is one, 
 And ten is none. 
 This is the witch's One Time's One ! 
 
 Fattst. 
 The beldame's babble seems as it 
 Were raviags of a fever fit. 
 
 Mbphistophelbs. 
 Oh, there's a deal more yet to follow. 
 And just as solid, and as hollow ; 
 The whole book clinks the self-same chime. 
 I know it well ; and much good time 
 Have I lost o'er it, good and serious. 
 For downright contradiction puUs 
 As hard on wise men's brains, as fools' ! 
 And unto both remains alike mysterious. 
 The trick 's both old and new. The way 
 At all times was, as 'tis to-day. 
 By three and one, and one and three, 
 To preach up lies as simple sooth. 
 And sow broadcast by land and sea 
 Delusions in the place of truth. 
 So men talk on the nonsense, they 
 Have gi'ound into them in the schools ; 
 And no one cares to say them nay. 
 For who 'd perplex himself with fools ? 
 Men, for the most part, when they hear 
 Words smite with vigour on their ear, 
 Believe that thought an entrance finds 
 Into the things they call their minds. 
 
 The Witch (contimies). 
 Science is light ! 
 But from the eight 
 
FAUST. 127 
 
 Of all the world 'tis hidden. 
 Who seeks it not, 
 To him 'tis brought, 
 Unnoticed and unbidden. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 What is this nonsense she is spouting ? 
 My head will split anon. I seem to hear 
 A hundred thousand maniacs shouting • 
 Their limacies fiill chorus in mine ear. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Enough ! Enough ! most admirable SybU ! 
 Dispense thy drink, and, mind, no paltry dribble ! 
 Fill up the cup, ay, fill it to the brim ! 
 My fiiend is safe, 'twill do no harm to him. 
 He 's taken honours 'mongst us, ay, and quaff 'd 
 Full many a deep and most potential draught. 
 
 The Witch (with many ceremonies pours the drink into a 
 goblet. As Faust raises it to his lips, a film, of flame 
 shoots out from if). 
 
 Off with it ! Leave no drop above ! 
 'TwiU warm the cockles of your heart ! 
 What ! with the devil hand and glove. 
 And yet at flame recoil and start ? 
 
 [The Witch dissolves the circle. Faust steps out. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 Now, forth at once ! To rest would mar aU quite ! 
 
 The Witch. 
 Your little drop will do you good, I trust. 
 
128 FA UST. 
 
 Mephistopheles {to the Witch). 
 
 And, if in aught I can oblige you, just 
 Eemiad me of it on Walpurgis Night. 
 
 The Witch. 
 
 Here is a song ! If you at times 
 Will sing it, you will find the rhymes 
 Produce upon you an eflfect 
 More singular than you expect. 
 
 Mephistophelbs (to Fattst). 
 
 Come ! Come ! Be guided for your good ! 
 
 'Tis indispensable you should 
 
 Perspire, that so its influence may 
 
 Through all your vitals find its way. 
 
 Hereafter I will teach you, how to prize 
 
 That prime distinction of noblesse, 
 
 Sheer lounging, hstless idleness ; 
 
 And soon you 'U feel, with sweet surprise, 
 
 How Cupid gambols in the breast, 
 
 And flits and flutters there with exquisite unrest. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 One glance into the mirror there ! 
 That woman's form was all too fair ! 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 
 Nay, nay ! Thou shalt ere long behold 
 
 The paragon of womankind. 
 
 In feature perfect, and in mould, 
 
 Warm, living, ay, and loving to your mind. 
 
 [Aside. 
 With this draught in his body, he 
 In every wench a Helena wiU see. 
 
FAUST. 129 
 
 SCENE IV.— Stebet. 
 Fatjst, Mabgaeet (passing along). 
 
 Eaust. 
 
 Y pretty lady, permit me, do, 
 My escort and arm to offer you ! 
 
 Maegaret. 
 
 I'm neither a lady, nor pretty, and so 
 Can home without an escort go. 
 
 [^BreaJcs away from Mm and exit. 
 
 Fattst. 
 
 By heaven, this girl is lovely ! Ne'er 
 Have I seen anything so fair. 
 She is so pure, so void of guUe, 
 Yet something snappish, too, the while. 
 Her Ups' rich red, her cheeks' soft hloom, 
 WUl haunt me to the day of doom ! 
 The pretty way she droops her eyes 
 Has thrill'd my heart in wondrous wise ; 
 Her short sharp manner, half in fiight, 
 'Twas .charming, fascinating quite ! 
 
 {To Mephistopheles, wTio enters). 
 Hark, you must get that girl for me ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 Get you that girl ? "Which do you mean ? 
 
130 FAUST. 
 
 Fattst. 
 She that went by but now. 
 
 Mephistophelks. 
 
 Wbat! She? 
 She has to her confessor been, 
 Who gave her — he could scarce do less — 
 Full absolution ; I was there, 
 Lying ensconced behind his chair. 
 Though she had nothing to confess, 
 Nothing whatever, to him she went, 
 Poor thing, she is so innocent. 
 Over that girl I have no power. 
 
 Faitst. 
 Yet is she fourteen, every hour. 
 
 Mbphistopbcelbs. 
 
 Spoken like Sir Kake, who would make prize 
 Of every dainty flower he spies. 
 And thinks all honours, favours, may 
 Be had for taking any day ! 
 But this won't do in every case. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Ho, Master Graveairs, is it so ? 
 Your sermonizing 's out of place. 
 And, in a word, I'd have you know. 
 Unless this very, night shall see 
 This sweet young thing in my embrace, 
 AH 's at an end 'twixt you and me ! 
 
FA UST. 131 
 
 MiEPHISTOPHBLBS. 
 
 Think of the obstacles ! I should 
 Require at least a fortnight good, 
 To bring about a meeting merely. 
 
 Faitst. 
 
 In half the time I '11 undertake, 
 Without the devil's aid, to make 
 A chit like that adore me dearly. 
 
 Mbphistophblbs. 
 
 "Why, by your talk, now, one might swear. 
 That you almost a Prenchman were ! 
 But, pray, don't lose your temper so ! 
 For where 's the good, I 'd like to know. 
 Of rushing to enjoyment straight ? 
 The pleasure 's not by much so great. 
 As when you 've first by every kind 
 Of fooHsh fondling to yom* mind 
 The doU contrived to knead and mould. 
 As many Italian tales have told. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 My appetite, I tell you, wants 
 No such fantastic stimulants. 
 
 Mbphistophblbs. 
 
 That may be ; — ^but, apart all jest, 
 
 Or slight upon you, I protest. 
 
 With this young thing you 'U ne'er succeed 
 
 By pushing on at race-horse speed. 
 
 We cannot storm the town, in short. 
 
 So must to stratagem resort. 
 
132 FAUST. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Fetch me some thing she 's used to wear ! 
 Her bedroom, introduce me there ! 
 A kerchief from her bosom bring, 
 The darling's garter, anything ! 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 
 That you may see, I mean to spare 
 No pains to bring your suit to bear, 
 We shall not lose one moment, — nay, 
 Wo '11 bring you to her room this very day. 
 
 Faust. 
 And shall I see, — ^possess her ? 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 
 No! 
 She will be with a neighbour. So 
 You may, quite undisturb'd the while. 
 Within her atmosphere beguile 
 The time by dreaming, fancy free. 
 Of pleasures afterwards to be. 
 
 Faust. 
 Can we go there at once ? 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 
 Oh, no. 
 'Tis much too early yet to go. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Provide me with some present straight, 
 
 Which may her fancy captivate ! [Exit. 
 
FAUST. 133 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 Presents ? Oh rare ! He's sure to make a hit. 
 Full many a famous place I know, 
 And treasures buried long ago. 
 Well ! I must look them up a bit. 
 
 EJTD OF ACT SECOND. 
 
ACT III. 
 
 SCENE I.— Evening. 
 
 A tidily appointed little room. 
 
 Mahgabet (braiding and binding up her hair). 
 
 HO was that gentleman ? Heigho ! 
 
 I would give something, now, to know. 
 
 He look'd so frank and handsome, he 
 
 Of nohle hlood must surely he. 
 That much, at least, his forehead told ; 
 He ne'er had ventured else to he so hold. {Exit. 
 
 Mbphistopheles and'FA.vsT enter. 
 
 Mephistophelbs. 
 Come in as softly as you may ! 
 
 Faust {after a pause). 
 Leave me alone — alone, I pray ! 
 
 Mephistophelbs (peering about the room). 
 
 It is not every girl, keeps things so neat. [Exit. 
 
FAUST. 135 
 
 Faust (casting his eyes around). 
 
 Welcome, thou twilight glimmer sweet, 
 Throughout this sanctuary shed ! 
 Oh, love's deUcious pain, that art 
 By dews of hope sustain'd and fed. 
 Take absolute possession of my heart ! 
 How, all around, there breathes a sense 
 Of calm, of order, and content ! 
 What plenty ia this indigence ! 
 In this low cell what ravishment ! 
 
 \€asts himself down upon a leathern 
 arm-chair by the bedside. 
 Receive me, thou, that hast with open arm 
 Held generations past in joy and moan ! 
 Ah me, how often has a rosy swarm 
 Of children clung to this paternal throne ! 
 Here did my love, perhaps, with grateful breast 
 For gifts the holy Christ-child brought her, stand, 
 Her chubby childish cheeks devoutly press'd 
 Against her aged grandsire's wither'd hand. 
 I feel thy spirit, maiden sweet. 
 Of order and contentment round me play, 
 That like a mother schools thee day by day. 
 Upon the table bids thee lay 
 The cover folded fresh and neat. 
 And strew the sand that crackles 'neath the feet. 
 Dear hand, that dost all things with beauty leaven, 
 Thou makest, like a god, this lowly home a heaven ! 
 And here ! [Raises one of the curtains of the bed. 
 
 What rapturous tremor shakes me now ? 
 Here could I hnger hours imtold. 
 Here the incarnate angel thou. 
 Oh Nature, didst in airy visions mould ; 
 
136 FAUST. 
 
 Here lay the child, its gentle breast 
 FiU'd with wai-m life ; and, hour by hour. 
 The bud, by hands divine caress'd, 
 Expanded to the perfect flower ! 
 
 And thou ! What brings thee hither ? I 
 
 Am stirr'd with strange emotion. Why ? 
 
 What wouldst thou here ? What weight so sore 
 
 Is this that presses on thy heart ? 
 
 Oh hapless Faust, so changed thou art, 
 
 I know thee now no more, no more ! 
 
 Is 't some enchanted atmosphere, 
 Encompasses, and charms me here ? 
 Upon possession's bhss supreme 
 My soul till now was madly bent. 
 And now in a deUcious dream 
 Of love I melt away content. 
 Is man, with aU his powers so rare. 
 The sport of every gust of air ? 
 
 And if she were to enter now. 
 How would your guilty soul her glances meet ? 
 The mighty braggart, ah, how small ! would bow. 
 Dissolved in abject terror, at her feet. 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 Dispatch ! She 's coming to the door. 
 
 Faust. 
 Hence ! Hence ! Here I retm-n no more. 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 Here is a casket, laden well ; 
 I got it, where ? no need to tell. 
 If you wiU only place it there 
 
FA U8T. 137 
 
 Within the press — quick, quick ! — I swear, 
 
 She '11 he beside herself with joy. 
 
 Some baubles there I 've stow'd away ; 
 
 For toys we angle with a toy. 
 
 Pah ! Child is chUd, and play is play. 
 
 Fatjst. 
 I know not— shall I ? 
 
 Mbphistophelbs. 
 
 Can you ask it? 
 Perhaps you 'd like to keep the casket ? 
 In that case, friend, I would advise 
 Your lechery to economize 
 The precious hours, — give up the bubble, 
 And save myself all farther trouble. 
 You avaricious ? You ? Oh no ! 
 I won't believe that this is so. 
 I scratch my head — toil might and main — 
 [Se places the casket in the press 
 and closes the lock. 
 Let us be off ! Psha ! hngering still ? — 
 The sweet young thing for you to gain, 
 And bend her to your wish and wiU ; 
 And here are you with face of gloom, 
 For all the world, as if you were 
 Just entering yoiu' lecture room, 
 Ajid saw before you Physics there, 
 And Metaphysics grimly stare ! 
 Come ! Start ! ■ [Exeunt. 
 
 Maegabet {enters with a lamp). 
 It is so close, so sultry here ! 
 
 [Opens the window. 
 And yet outside 'twas rather chiUy. 
 
138 FAUST. 
 
 I feel, I can't tell how ; oh, dear ! 
 I wish that mother would come in. 
 I have a creeping all over my skin. 
 I 'm such a frighten'd thing, — so silly ! 
 
 [Begins to sing as she undresses Jiefself. 
 
 In Thule dwelt a King, and he 
 
 Was leal tmto the grave ; 
 A cup to him of the red red gold 
 
 His leman dying gave. 
 
 He quaff'd it to the dregs, whene'er 
 He drank among his peers, 
 
 And ever, as he drain'd it down, 
 His eyes would brim with tears. 
 
 And when his end drew near, he told 
 
 His kingdom's cities up. 
 Gave all his wealth unto his heir. 
 
 But with it not the cup. 
 
 He sat and feasted at the board. 
 His knights around his knee. 
 
 Within the palace of his sires, 
 Hard by the roaring sea. 
 
 Then up he rose, that toper old, 
 A long last breath he drew. 
 
 And down the cup he loved so well 
 Into the ocean threw. 
 
 He saw it flash, then settle down, 
 
 Down, down into the sea. 
 And, as he gazed, his eyes grew dim, 
 
 Nor never again drank he. 
 
FA UST. 139 
 
 [She opens the press to put away her clothes, 
 and discovers the casket. 
 What 's here ? How comes this lovely casket thus ? 
 I 'm very confident I lock'd the press. 
 'Tis surely most mysterious ! 
 "What it contains I cannot guess. 
 In pledge for money lent, mayhe, 
 'Tis with my mother left to keep ? 
 A rihbon and a Httle key ! 
 I 've half a mind to take a peep. 
 "What 's this ? Grreat Heavens ! AH my days 
 The hke of this I 've never seen, — 
 Jewels and trinkets ! Such a blaze 
 Might grace a duchess, ay, a queen ! 
 On me how would the necklace sit ? 
 "Whose can they be, these braveries fine ? 
 
 \Puts on the trinkets, and walks hefore 
 the looking-glass. 
 Oh, if the ear-rings were but mine ! 
 In them one doesn't look the same a bit. 
 You may be young, you may be pretty ; 
 AH very nice and fine to view. 
 But nobody cares a straw for you, 
 And, if folks praise, 'tis half in pity. 
 Por gold all strive. 
 For gold all wive, 
 
 'Tis gold rules aU things 'neath the sun. 
 Alas ! "We poor folks that have none ! 
 
1-10 FA VST. 
 
 SCENE II. — Public Promenade. 
 
 Faust walking up and down wrapt in thought. 
 To him Mephistophbles. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 lY love despised and its tortures fell ! 
 By all the elements of heU ! 
 Oh, would I only knew something worse, 
 That I might cram it into a curse ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 What 's wrong ? What puts you in such case ? 
 In all my life I ne'er saw such a face. 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 
 The devil's self if I were not, 
 
 I 'd pitch myself to him on the spot ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 What has befallen to rob you of your wits ? 
 How well on you this maniac fury sits ! 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 
 Just think — 'tis not to he endured — 
 
 The set of jewels I procured 
 
 For Margaret, a rascal priest 
 
 Has swept clean off, — he has, the beast ! 
 
 Her mother of them got an inkling, 
 
 And fell to quaking in a twinkling. 
 
FAUST. 141 
 
 The nose that woman has, you 'd ne'er 
 Belieye, for scenting aU that's wrong, 
 Over her Book of Common Prayer 
 She snuffles, snuffles, all day long. 
 With sanctimonious scowl demure 
 At every stick of furniture 
 She drops her nose to ascertain. 
 If it he holy or profane. i 
 
 So in the trinkets soon she spies, 
 That not much of a hlessing lies. 
 Quoth she, " All such unrighteous gear 
 Corrupts hoth body and soul, my dear. 
 So let us, then, this devil's bait 
 To Mary Mother consecrate, 
 And she, as recompense instead. 
 Win gladden us with heavenly bread." 
 Poor Gretchen puU'd a long wry face. 
 " Gift horse !" thought she, " in any case ! 
 And very godless he cannot be. 
 Who brought it here so handsomely." 
 
 The mother for the parson sent, 
 
 Wlio heard her nonsense, and his eyes. 
 
 Be sure, they gleam'd with a rare content, 
 
 When he beheld the glistening prize. 
 
 Quoth he, "A holy frame of mind ! 
 
 Who conquers self, leaves all behind ! 
 
 The church, for whom your gift is meant, 
 
 A stomach has most excellent. 
 
 Whole countries, land, and grange, and town. 
 
 She at a meal has swallow'd down, 
 
 Yet ne'er, however gorged with pelf, 
 
 Was known to over-eat herself. 
 
 The church, my dears, alone with zest 
 
 Can such unrighteous gear digest." 
 
142 FAUST. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 That power it shares with not a few ; 
 Your king, now, has it, eke your Jew. 
 
 Mbphistophbles. 
 
 So saying, he swept off amain 
 
 Eing, necklace, bracelet, brooch, and chain, 
 
 With quite as unconcern'd an air. 
 
 As if they merely mushrooms were. 
 
 Treating my precious gems and casket 
 
 Like nuts so many in a basket ; 
 
 And, promising that heaven no end 
 
 Of fair rewards to them would send. 
 
 He took his leave, and there they sat, 
 
 Immensely edified by that. 
 
 Faust. 
 And Gretchen ? 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 She is all unrest, 
 And scarce knows what she 'd like the best. 
 Thinks of the trinkets night and day, 
 And more of them that brought them — ^hey ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 It pains me that my love should fret. 
 Fetch her at once another set ! 
 The first were no great things. — 
 
 Mephistophelbs. 
 
 Heyday ! 
 All things are to my lord child's play. 
 
FAUST. 143 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Do what I wish, and (juickly ! Go ! 
 Stick to her neighbour close. Be no 
 Mere milk-and-water devU, and get 
 Of these gewgaws another set. 
 
 Mephistophbles . 
 
 That you desire it is enough. [Exit Faust. 
 
 Such lovesick fools away will puff 
 Sun, moon, and stars into the air. 
 And aU to please their lady fair. 
 
 SCENE III.— The Neighboub's House. 
 
 Maktha (alone). 
 
 \ Y good man, God forgive him, he 
 Has acted scurvily by me. 
 To start away, the Lord knows where, 
 And leave me widow'd, lone, and bare. 
 
 I never plagued him — God forbid ! — 
 
 I loved him dearly, that I did. [ Weeps. 
 
 Perhaps he 's dead, though ? Cruel fate ! 
 
 Ah me, if some certificate 
 
 Would only come the fact to state ! 
 
 Enter Maegaeet. 
 
 Maegabet. 
 Martha ! 
 
 Maetha. 
 What ails my pretty dear? 
 
144 FAUST. 
 
 Maegaebt. 
 
 I feel just like to drop. See here 
 Another casket — ^nothing less — 
 Of ebony left in my press ! 
 And things, so grand and fine, I feel. 
 They 're costlier than the first a deal. 
 
 Maetha. 
 
 You must not let your mother know, 
 Or to the priest they, too, will go. 
 
 Mabgaeet. 
 Oh see, now, see ! Look at them, do ! 
 
 Maetha. 
 You lucky, lucky creature you ! 
 
 Maegaebt. 
 
 Alas ! I never dare appear 
 
 In the street or at church in such fine gear. 
 
 Maetha. 
 
 To me come often over, lass ; 
 You can put them on, and nobody know ; 
 Parade a good hour before the glass. 
 We 'U have our own enjoyment so. . 
 And then, if you 'U but wait, no doubt 
 You're sure somehow to get a chance, 
 Little by little to bring them out, 
 On holidays, or at a dance. 
 We '11 manage it so as to make no stir ; 
 A necklace first, and then the pearl 
 Ear-rings — ^your mother won't notice, girl ; 
 We can always make out some story for her. 
 
FAUST. 145 
 
 Maegabbt. 
 
 But wio could both the caskets bring ? 
 There 's something wrong about the thing. 
 
 \_A hnooTc at the door. 
 Good heavens ! Should that be mother ! 
 
 Maetha. 
 
 Nay, 
 Some stranger 'tis — Come in ! 
 
 Mbphistophbibs (entering). 
 I pray 
 Your pardon, ladies, for intruding thus. 
 'Tis most unceremonious. 
 
 [Steps hack respectfully on seeing Mae&aeet. 
 Which may Dame Martha Schwerdtlein be ? 
 
 Martha. 
 What is your pleasure? I am she. 
 
 Mbphistophelbs {aside to Tier). 
 
 Now that I know you, that wiU do. 
 You have high company with you. 
 Excuse the liberty I took : 
 In later in the day I '11 look. 
 
 Mabtha (aloud). 
 
 Think, child, the odd mistake he made ! He 
 Fancied that you were a lady. 
 
 Mar&abbt. 
 
 A simple girl am I, and poor. 
 
 The gentleman's too kind, I 'm sure. 
 
 These ornaments are not my own. 
 
146 FA UST. 
 
 Mefhistopheles. 
 
 'Tis not the ornaments alone ; 
 
 The piercing glance, the air urbane — 
 
 How glad I am, I may remain ! 
 
 Mahtha. 
 Your news, sir ? I'm all ears ! How went it ? 
 
 Mbphistophelbs. 
 
 I would my tale were less distressing. 
 On me, I trust, you won't resent it ? 
 Your husband's dead, and sends his blessing. 
 
 Maetha. 
 
 Is dead ? Poor darUng ! lack a day ! 
 My husband's dead. I faint away ! 
 
 Mahgabet. 
 Oh, keep your heart up, dearest friend ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 Hear the sad story to the end ! 
 
 Mabgabet. 
 
 'Tis things like this, which make me pray, 
 
 That fall in love I never may ; 
 
 For such a loss, I do beUeve, 
 
 To death itself would make me grieve. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 Ah, joy goes hand in hand with care. 
 
 Mabtha. 
 But tell me, how he died and where ? 
 
FA UST. 147 
 
 Mbphistophelbs. 
 In Padua his bones repose. 
 There, ma'am, in Saint Antonio's, — 
 The best of consecrated gromid, — 
 A quiet corner he has found. 
 
 Mabtha. 
 But have you nought for me beside ? 
 
 Mbphistophbles. 
 
 Yes, one most weighty, huge, request, — 
 Three hundred masses to provide. 
 To sing his poor soul into rest. 
 Of all but this my pocket's bare. 
 
 Maetha. 
 
 What! Not a luck-penny? "What! Ne'er 
 A trinket, — ^token ? Why, there 's not 
 A handicraftsman but has got. 
 Somewhere within his wallet stored, 
 However bare, some little hoard. 
 Something to touch a body's heart with. 
 He 'd sooner starve, or beg, than part with. 
 
 Mbphistopheibs. 
 
 I feel for you, but let me say. 
 
 His money was not fool'd away. 
 
 Besides, he did his sins deplore. 
 
 But mourn'd his evil luck considerably more. 
 
 Mabgarbt. 
 
 Alas ! That men should be so wretched ! He 
 
 Shall for his soul's repose have many a prayer from me. 
 
148 FAUST. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 You are so good, so charming, you 
 Deserve a husband, ay, and quickly too. 
 
 Maegabet. 
 Ah no ! Too soon for that ! I can't — 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 "Well, till the husband comes, then, a gallant ! 
 Heaven has no boon more sweet, more rare, 
 Than in one's arms to fold a thing so fair. 
 
 Makgaket. 
 That 's not our coimtry's usage, sir. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 Usage or not, such things occur. 
 
 Mabtha. 
 Go on, sir ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 I was at his side, 
 There by the bed on which he died, 
 A sorrier eyes never saw, 
 A mere dung -heap of rotten straw. 
 Yet still he made a Christian ending. 
 And found, that, what with drinis and spending, 
 He had run up a great deal more. 
 Than he had thought for on his score. 
 " How I detest myself ! " cried he, 
 " For having so disgracefully 
 Deserted both my vrife and calling. 
 The very thought on 't is appalling ! 
 
FA UST: 149 
 
 It saps my life. Could I but know, 
 That she forgives me, ere I die !" 
 
 Mabtha {we&ping). 
 Dear heart ! I — I forgave him long ago. 
 
 Mbphistophelbs. 
 " Still, God knows, she was more to blame than I." 
 
 Maetha. 
 
 He lied there ! "What ! To lie, the knave. 
 Upon the threshold of the grave ! 
 
 Mephistophblbs. 
 
 His latest gasps were spent in fiction, 
 
 That is my most profound conviction. 
 
 " Small time for idling had I," he said, 
 
 " First getting children, then getting them bread, ' 
 
 And clothing their backs, yet never had yet 
 
 A moment's quiet to eat my crust." 
 
 Mabtha. 
 
 Did he thus all my truth, my love forget. 
 My drudging early and late ? 
 
 Mephistophblbs. 
 
 Be just ! 
 Not so. Of that in his dejection 
 He show'd a touching recollection. 
 " When I," he said, " was leaving Malta, I 
 Pray'd for my wife and children most devoutly. 
 Heaven so far bless'd my prayers, that by and by 
 We met a Turkish galley, took it stoutly. , 
 
ISO FAUST. 
 
 It carried treasure for the Sultan. There 
 Valour for once had its reward, 'tis true, 
 And I received — and 'twas my simple due — 
 Of what we took a very handsome share." 
 
 Mabtha. 
 What ? How ? He hid it somewhere, I suppose ? 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 
 Where the four winds have blown it now, who knows ? 
 
 Strolling forlorn in Naples through the city, 
 
 A damsel on his loneliness took pity. 
 
 And such wann tenderness between them pass'd. 
 
 He bore its marks, poor saint, about him to the last. 
 
 Mabtha. 
 
 Wretch ! To his children play the thief? 
 Not all his want, not all his grief 
 Could check his shameless life. 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 Ay, ma'am, but surely 
 'Twas this that kill'd him prematurely. 
 Now, were I in your place, I would 
 Mourn one chaste year of widowhood ; 
 And look about meanwhile to find 
 A second husband to my mind. 
 
 Mabtha. 
 
 Ah me ! With all his faults I durst 
 Not hope to find one like the first. 
 A kinder-hearted fool than he 
 'Twas scarcely possible to be. 
 
FAUST. 151 
 
 His only fault was, that from home 
 He was too much inclined to roam, 
 Loved foreign women — ^filthy vice ! — 
 And foreign wine, and those curst dice. 
 
 Mephistophelbs. 
 
 How different might have heen his state. 
 
 Had he, poor wretch, been equally 
 
 Forbearing and affectionate ! 
 
 Treat me as well, and, I protest, 
 
 I 'd ask you to change rings with me. 
 
 Mabtha. 
 Oh Lord, sir, you are pleased to jest ! 
 
 Mephistopheles (aside). 
 
 I 'd best be off now ! This absurd 
 
 Old fool would take the devil at his word. 
 
 [To Makgabbt. 
 How is it with your heart ? — Content ? 
 
 Mabgabbt. 
 What mean you, sir ? 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Sweet innocent ! 
 {Aloud). Ladies, farewell ! 
 
 Mabgaebt. 
 Farewell ! 
 
 Mabtha. 
 
 Before 
 You go, sir, give me one word more. 
 
152 FA UST. 
 
 I 'd like to have some proof to show 
 Where, how, and when my darling died. 
 And was interr'd. I 've always tried 
 To be methodical, and so 
 'Twould comfort me, it wovJd indeed, 
 Could I his death but in the papers read. 
 
 Mephistophelbs. 
 
 Oh, certainly, good madam, I 
 
 Your wish at once can gratify. 
 
 One witness by another back'd. 
 
 All the world over, proves a fact. 
 
 I have a friend in town here, who will state 
 
 What you require before the Magistrate. 
 
 I '11 bring him here with me. 
 
 Mabtha. 
 
 Oh do, sir, pray ! 
 
 Mephistophelbs. 
 
 And this young lady wiU be with you, eh ? 
 
 A fine young fellow ! A great traveller ! Quite 
 
 A ladies' man, — especially pohte. 
 
 Maegabet. 
 I 'd sink with shame before him, sir. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 No ! Not before an emperor. 
 
 Maetha. 
 
 At dusk in my back garden we 
 You and your friend will hope to see. 
 
FAUST. 153 
 
 SCENE IV.— Stbeet. 
 
 Eaust, Mephistopheles. 
 
 Eaust. 
 HAT speed? WiU'twork? What of my deax ? 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Bravo ! So hot ? You '11 shortly bring 
 Your quarry down. This evening 
 At neighbour Martha's shall you see her ! 
 That is a woman made express 
 To play the pimp and procuress. 
 
 Eaust. 
 Good! Good! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 But there is something, too. 
 That she requires of us to do. 
 
 Eatjst, 
 Well, one good turn deserves another. 
 
 Mephistopheles . 
 
 We 
 Have to depone — ^a mere formality — 
 That stiff and stark her husband's carcase lies 
 In Padua in holy ground. 
 
154 FA UST. 
 
 Fattst. 
 
 Most wise ! 
 Why, we must make the journey first, of course ? 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 Saneta simplicitas ! No need of that ! You just 
 Speak to the facts and take them upon trust. 
 
 Faust. 
 The game is up, if that 's the sole resource. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Oh holy man, is this your cue ? 
 
 Is this the first time in your life, that you 
 
 Have borne false witness ? Have you not 
 
 In language the most positive defined 
 
 God, the world, all that moves therein, mankind, 
 
 His capabilities of feeling, thought. 
 
 Ay,- done it with a breast undash'd 
 
 By faintest fear, a forehead unabash'd ? 
 
 Yet tax yourself, and you must own, that you 
 
 As much in truth about these matters knew. 
 
 As of Herr Schwerdtlein's death you do. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Liar and sophist, thou wilt be 
 Liar and sophist to the close ! 
 
 Mephistopheles . 
 Oh certainly, could one not see 
 A little farther before one's nose. 
 To-morrow will not you — of course. 
 In all integrity ! — ^begmle 
 
FA UST. 155 
 
 Poor Margaret, and your suit enforce 
 
 By swearing aE your soul hangs on her smile ? 
 
 Faust. 
 And from my heart I'd speak. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Oh, specious art ! 
 You 'U talk about eternal truth and loye. 
 Of passion, aU control, aU change above. 
 Will this, too, come quite purely from the heart ? 
 
 Faitst. 
 
 Peace, fiend ! it will ! What ! If I feel. 
 And for that feeling, phrenzy, flame, 
 I seek, but cannot find a name. 
 Then through the round of nature reel 
 With every sense at fever heat. 
 Snatching at aU sublimest phrases, 
 And call this fire, that in me blazes, 
 Endless, eternal, ay, eternal. 
 Is this mere devUish deceit. 
 Devised to dazzle, and to cheat ? 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 Yet am I right. 
 
 Fatjsi. 
 
 Thou fiend infernal ! 
 Hear me ! And mark, too, what I say. 
 So spare these lungs of mine, I pray. 
 He that 's resolved he 's in the right. 
 And has but tongue enough, is quite 
 
156 FAUST. 
 
 Secure to gain his point. But come, 
 This bahblement grows wearisome. 
 Right, then, thou art. I grant it, just 
 Because I cannot choose but must. 
 
 SCENE v.— Gabdbn. 
 
 Mabgaebt on Eaitst's arm. Maetha with 
 Mephistopheles walking up and down. 
 
 Maegabet. 
 
 1 OU only bear with me, I 'm sure you do. 
 You stoop, to shame me, you so wise. 
 You travellers are so used to view 
 All things you come across with kindly eyes. 
 I know, my poor talk can but weary such 
 A man as you, that must have known so much. 
 
 FAtrsT. 
 
 One glance, one word of thine, to me is more 
 Than all this world's best wisdom — all its lore. 
 
 [Kisses Tier hand. 
 
 Maegaeet. 
 
 Oh, no, sir, no ! How can you kiss it ? 'Tis 
 So coarse, so hard — it is not fit — 
 The things I 've had to do vrith it ! 
 Mother 's too niggardly — ^indeed she is. 
 
 [They pass on. 
 
FAUST. 157 
 
 Maetea. 
 And you, you 're always travelling this way, sir ? 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 
 Business, alas ! and duty force us. Ah, what pain 
 It costs a man from many a place to stir, 
 Where yet his fate forbids him to remain. 
 
 Maetha. 
 
 'Tis very well to rove this way 
 
 About the world when young, and strong, and brave. 
 
 But soon or later comes the evil day ; 
 
 And to go crawling on into the grave 
 
 A stiff old lonely bachelor, — that can 
 
 Never be good for any man. 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 I shudder, thinking such may be my fate. 
 
 Maetha. 
 
 Then, sir, be wise, before it is too late. 
 
 {They pass on. 
 
 MAEaAEET. 
 
 Yes ! Out of sight is out of mind ! 
 Pohteness costs you nothing. Why, 
 You 've friends in plenty, good and kind. 
 And they have far more sense than I. 
 
 Faitst. 
 
 Oh, best of creatures, trust me, the pretence 
 Of that which passes with the world for sense. 
 More frequently is neither more nor less 
 Than self-conceit and narrow-mindedness. 
 
158 FAUST. 
 
 Maegabet. 
 How so ? 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Ah ! That simplicity 
 And innocence will never recognize 
 Themselves, and all their worth so holy! 
 That meekness and a spirit lowly, 
 The highest gifts, that Nature's free 
 And loving hounty can devise — 
 
 MAEaABBT. 
 
 A little moment only think of me ; 
 
 I shall have time enough to think of you. 
 
 Pattst. 
 You 're much alone, then ? 
 
 Maegabet. 
 
 Yes! 'Tistrue, 
 Our household's small, but stiU, you see, 
 It wants no little looking to. 
 We have no maid ; so I 've to do 
 The cooking, sewing, knitting, sweeping ; 
 I 'm on my feet from mom till night. 
 And mother 's so exacting, and so tight 
 In her housekeeping. 
 
 Not that she needs to pinch so close. We might 
 Much more at ease than other people be. 
 My father left us, when he died, 
 A cottage with some garden ground, outside 
 The town, a tidy bit of property. 
 But now I am not near so sore bestead. 
 My brother is away — a soldier he. 
 
FA UST. 159 
 
 My little sister 's dead. 
 
 Ah ! with the child I had a world of trouble, 
 
 And yet, and yet, I 'd gladly undergo 
 
 It all again, though it were double, 
 
 I loved the darling so. 
 
 Faust. 
 An angel, sweet, if it resembled you ! 
 
 Maboabet. 
 
 I brought it up, and, do you know. 
 
 It loved me with a love so true ! 
 
 My father died, before 'twas bom, 
 
 We gave up mother for lost ; her fit 
 
 Left her so wasted, and so forlorn. 
 
 And very very slow she mended, bit by bit. 
 
 She could not, therefore, dream herself 
 
 Of suckling the poor Httle elf; 
 
 And so I nursed it aU alone. 
 
 On milk and water, tiU at last 
 
 It grew my very own. 
 
 Upon my arm, within my breast 
 
 It smiled, and crow'd, and grew so fast. 
 
 FArsT. 
 You must have felt most purely blest. 
 
 Mab&abet. 
 
 Oh yes ! Still I had many things to try me. 
 
 The baby's cradle stood at night 
 
 Beside my bed : if it but stirr'd, I would 
 
 Awake in fright. 
 
 One time I had to give it drink or food. 
 
 Another time to lay it by me ; 
 
160 FAUST. 
 
 Then, if it had a crying fit, 
 
 Out of my bed I needs must get, 
 
 And up and down the room go dandling it; 
 
 And yet 
 
 Be standing at the wash-tub by day-break, 
 
 Then do the marketing, set the house to rights : 
 
 And so it went on, mornings, mid- days, nights, 
 
 Always the same ! Such things will make 
 
 One's spirits not at all times of the best, 
 
 Still they give rehsh to our food, our rest. 
 
 {They pass on. 
 
 Maetha. 
 
 Poor women get the worst on 't, though. A dry 
 Old bachelor's not easy to convert. 
 
 Mephistophblbs. 
 
 Would one like you but make the trial, I 
 My wicked ways might soon desert. 
 
 Maktha. 
 
 Frankly, now ! Is there no one you have met ? 
 Has not your heart form'd some attachment yet ? 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 What says the proverb ? A hearth of one's own. 
 And a housewife good, it is well known. 
 Are better than gold or precious stone. 
 
 Maetha. 
 I mean, sir, have you never had a liking ? 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 The favour shown me everywhere is striking. 
 
FAUST. 161 
 
 Mabtha. 
 
 I wish'd to say ; your heart, has it 
 Never been conscious of a serious feeling ? 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 Madam, a jesting mood were most unfit, 
 
 Not to say, dangerous, when with ladies dealing. 
 
 Mabtha. 
 Ai, you don't understand what I 'd be at. 
 
 Mbphistophbles. 
 
 I 'm grieved most heartily for that. 
 But this is quite clear to my mind. 
 That you are very, very kind. 
 
 [They pass on. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 When I came in, you little angel, then. 
 You knew me at a glance again ? 
 
 Mab&abbt. 
 Did you not see ? I could not meet your look. 
 
 Fatjst. 
 
 And you forgive the Uberty I took. 
 The mad impertinence, which prompted me 
 To stop you on the street the other day, 
 As you came out from the Cathedral door ? 
 
 Maegabbt. 
 
 It took me quite aback. What could it be ? 
 Nothing like this had e'er occurr'd before. 
 
162 FAUST. 
 
 No one of me an evil word could say. 
 
 And then it cross'd my thoughts ; " Alas, the day ! 
 
 Can he ahout me anything have seen, 
 
 Bold or unmaidenly in look or mien?" 
 
 It seem'd as if the thought had struck you — She 
 
 Is just the girl with whom one can make free ! 
 
 Let me confess the truth ! Not then I knew, 
 
 What in your favour here began to stir ; 
 
 But with myself I was right angry, sir. 
 
 That I could not be angrier with you. 
 
 Faust. 
 Sweet love ! 
 
 Mabgaebt. 
 Stay! 
 
 [^She plucJcs a star-flower, and picks off the 
 petals, one after the other. 
 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 
 
 
 
 What is this 
 
 ? A nosegay ? 
 
 
 
 
 Mabgaoet. 
 
 
 No!o!o!o!o!i! 
 
 Only i 
 
 i game. 
 
 Faust. 
 A game ? 
 
 Maegaket. 
 
 
 
 
 
 You '11 mock me— Go 
 
 ! 
 
 
 
 Faust. 
 
 
 
 What 
 
 is it thou art murmuring ? 
 
 What? 
 
 
FA UST. 163 
 
 Maegaeet. 
 He loves me, loves me not. 
 
 Fatjst. 
 
 I guess. 
 Angelic creature ! 
 
 MAEaABBT. 
 
 Loves me not, 
 Loves me — not — ^he loves me ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Yes! 
 Let what this flower has told thee he 
 A revelation as from heaven to thee ! 
 Speak to me, dearest ! Dost thou comprehend 
 AH that these simple words portend ? 
 He loves me ! [Seizes both her hands. 
 
 Maegaebt. 
 I am all a-tremhle ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Oh, do not tremble ! Let this look. 
 
 This pressure of the hand proclaim to thee 
 
 What words can never speak ; what bids us now 
 
 Surrender soul and sense to feel 
 
 A rapture which must be eternal ? 
 
 Eternal, for its end would be despair ! 
 
 No, no, no end ! No end ! 
 
 [Maegabbt joresses his hands, hrealcs from 
 him, and runs off. He stands for a 
 moment in thought, then follows her. 
 
164 FA UST. 
 
 Mabtha (advancing). 
 'Tis growing dark ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Yes, and we must away. 
 
 Maetha. 
 
 I 'd ask you, longer here to stay. 
 
 Were this not such a wicked place. 
 
 Folks seem to have nought else to do, I vow, 
 
 Or think ahout, except to play 
 
 The spy upon their neighbours — -how 
 
 They rise, lie down, come in, go out ; 
 
 And, take what heed one may, in any case 
 
 One 's certain to get talk'd about. 
 
 But our young couple ? 
 
 Mepbistopheles. 
 
 They have flown 
 Up yonder walk. The giddy butterflies ! 
 
 Maetha. 
 Quite fond of her, methinks, he 's grown. 
 
 MBPmSTOPHELES. 
 
 And she of him. Could it be otherwise? 
 
FAUST. 165 
 
 SCENE VI. — ^A Stjmmbbhotjsb. 
 
 Mabgabet rtms in, places herself behind the door, holds the tip 
 of her finger to her lips, and peeps ■through the crevice. 
 
 Maegabet. 
 E 'S coming ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Did you fancy, you 
 Could give me so tte slip ? All then, 
 I Ve caught you, rogue ! [^Kisses her. 
 
 Mabgaeet (embracing him and returning the hiss). 
 
 Oh, best of men, 
 I love thee, from my heart I do. 
 
 [Mephistopheles hnocks. 
 
 Patjst {stamping his foot). 
 Who 's there ? 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 Your friend ! 
 
 Fattst. 
 
 Beast, beast ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 'Tie time to go. 
 
166 FAUST. 
 
 Maetha (comes v/p). 
 Yes, sir, 'tis late. 
 
 Fattst. 
 Mayn't I escort you ? 
 
 Mabgabet. 
 
 My mother would — ^Farewell ! 
 Faust. 
 
 No! 
 
 Must I begone ? 
 
 Farewell ! 
 
 Mabtha. 
 
 Adieu! 
 
 Fattst. 
 
 To meet again anon ! 
 \Exmnt Fattst arid Mephistopheles. 
 
 Mabgarbt. 
 
 Dear God ! The things of every kind 
 A man like this has in his mind ! 
 I stand before him dash'd and shy. 
 And say to all he speaks of, yes. 
 In such a simple child as I 
 "What he should see, I cannot guess. 
 
FA UST. 167 
 
 SCENE VII. — ^FoEKST AM) Caveen. 
 
 Fatjst alone. 
 
 JAJESTIC spirit, thou hast given me all, 
 Eor which I pray'd. Thou not in vain didst tiu'ii 
 Thy countenance to me in fire and flame. 
 Thou glorious Nature for my realm hast given, 
 With power to feel, and to enjoy her. Thou 
 No mere cold glance of wonder hast vouchsafed, 
 But let'st me peer deep down into her breast, 
 Even as into the bosom of a friend. 
 Before me thou in long procession lead'st 
 All things that live, and teachest me to know 
 My kindred in stiU grove, in air, and stream. 
 And, when the storm sweeps roaring through the woo^s, 
 Upwrenching by the roots the giant pines. 
 Whose neighbouring trunks, and intertangled boughs, 
 In crashing ruin tear each other down, 
 And shake with roar of thunder all the hills, 
 Then dost thou guide me to some sheltering cave, 
 There show'st me to myself, and mine own soul 
 Teems marvels forth I ween'd not of before. 
 And when the pure moon, with her mellowing light, 
 Mounts as I gaze, then from the rocky walls, 
 And out from the dank underwood, ascend 
 Forms sUvery-clad of ages long ago. 
 And soften the austere delight of thought. 
 
 Oh now I feel, no perfect boon is e'er 
 Achieved by man. With this ecstatic power, 
 
168 FA UST. 
 
 Which brings me hourly nearer to the gods, 
 
 A yokemate thou hast given me, whom even now 
 
 I can no more dispense with, though his cold 
 
 Insulting scorn degrades me to myself, 
 
 And tm-ns thy gifts to nothing with a breath. 
 
 Within my breast he fans unceasingly 
 
 A raging fire for that bewitching form. 
 
 So to finiition from desire I reel, 
 
 And 'midst fruition languish for desire. 
 
 Eyiter Mephistopheles. 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 What ! Not yet weary of this life of quiet ? 
 How can it charm you such a while ? Pooh, pooh ! 
 'Tis very well once in a way to try it ; 
 And then away again to something new ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Would thou hadst something else to do, 
 Than tease me when I would be still ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Oh, I will leave you, if you will, 
 
 And leave you very gladly, too. 
 
 No need to be so very cross. 
 
 A surly peevish mate like you 
 
 Is truly Utile of a loss. 
 
 My hands are full from mom till night. 
 
 And yet by look or sign you won't 
 
 Let me divine what 's wrong or right. 
 
 What things you hke, and what you don't. 
 
FA UST. 169 
 
 Fatjst. 
 
 The trae tone hit exactly ! He 
 "Wants to be thank'd for boring me. 
 
 Mephistophblbs. 
 Why, without me, poor son of clay. 
 What sort of hfe would you have led ? 
 I 've ciu'ed that brain of yours this many a day 
 Of the whim-whams your sickly fancy bred ; 
 And from this ball of earth you clean away 
 Had, but for me, long long ago been sped. 
 Is it for you, to mope and scowl 
 In clefts and caverns, like an owl ? 
 Or, like a toad, lap nourishment 
 Prom oozy moss, and dripping stones ? 
 Oh, pastime rare and excellent ! 
 The Doctor still sticks in your bones. 
 
 Fatjst. 
 
 Dost comprehend, what stores of fresh life-force 
 I gain in roaming thus by wold and waste ? 
 Ay, couldst thou but divine it, thou, of course. 
 Art too much fiend such bliss to let me taste. 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 A super-earthly ecstasy ! To camp 
 
 On mountains in the dark, and dews, and damp ! 
 
 In transports to embrace the earth and sky, 
 
 Yourself into a deity inflate, 
 
 Pierce the earth's marrow by the light of high. 
 
 Unreasoning presentiments innate. 
 
 Feel in your breast the whole six days' creation. 
 
 And, in the pride of conscious power, to glow 
 
170 FA UST. 
 
 With quite incomprehensible elation, 
 Anon with lover's raptures to o'erflow 
 Into the Universal All, with now 
 No vestige left to mark the chUd of clay. 
 This trance ecstatic, glorious in its way, 
 All winding up at last — [ With a gesture. 
 
 I sha 'n't say how ! 
 
 Faust. 
 Shame on thee ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Oh, that shocks you ! You have so 
 Much right with moral horror to cry shame ! 
 One must not dare to squeamish ears to name 
 What, natheless, squeamish hearts will not forego. 
 Well, well, I grudge you not the satisfaction 
 Of lying to yourself upon occasion : 
 That sort of thing soon loses its attraction ; 
 You'U tire of it, and without my persuasion. 
 To your old whims you're falling back again, 
 Ajid 'tis most certain, if I let you. 
 They 'U into madness lash yoiu- brain. 
 Or into horrors and blue devils fret you. 
 Enough of this ! At home your darhng sits, 
 And all with her 's vacuity and sadness. 
 She cannot get you from her mind. Her wit 's 
 Bewitch'd ; she dotes on you to madness. 
 At first your passion, hke a Httle brook, 
 SwoU'n by the melted snows, all barriers overbore ; 
 Into her heart you 've pour'd it all, and, look ! 
 That Uttle brook of yours is dry once more. 
 Methinks, instead of playing king 
 Among the woods, your lordship might 
 
FAUST. 171 
 
 Be doing better to requite 
 
 The poor yoimg monkey's hankering. ' 
 
 Time drags with her so sadly ; she, poor wight, 
 
 Stands at her window, marks with listless eye 
 
 The clouds o'er the old city walls go sweeping by. 
 
 " Oh, if a birdie I might be ! " So runs her song 
 
 Half through the night, and all day long ; 
 
 One while she 's gay, though mostly she 'b downcast. 
 
 At other times she 's pump'd quite dry of tears. 
 
 Then to appearance calm agaia, but first and last 
 
 In love o'er head and ears. 
 
 Faust. 
 Serpent ! Serpent ! 
 
 Mephistophblbs {aside). 
 
 Oh, I bear you ! 
 So that only I ensnare you ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Out of my sight ! Accursed thing ! 
 Dare not to name her ! Nor before 
 My half-distracted senses bring 
 Desire for her sweet body more. 
 
 Mephistophblbs. 
 
 What 's to be done ? She thinks you gone for ever ! 
 And in a manner so you are. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 I 'm near her, ay, but were I ne'er so far, 
 I never can forget, can lose her never. 
 I envy even the Host itself, whene'er 
 'Tis touch'd by those sweet Kps of hers ! 
 
172 FA UST. 
 
 Mephistophelbs. 
 
 Indeed ! 
 Well, friend, I 've often emded you the paii' 
 Of dainty twins, that 'midst the roses feed. 
 
 Faust. 
 Hence, pimp ! 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 Oh, rare ! You rail, and I must laugh. 
 The God, who fashion'd lad and wench. 
 Knew what He meant too well hy half, 
 His nohle purpose not to clench. 
 By fashioning occasion due 
 For hringing them together, too. 
 Away ! 'Tis such a cruel case ! 
 'Tis to your mistress' chamber, man, you go. 
 And not, methinks, to your undoing. 
 
 Fatjst. 
 
 What were heaven's bhss itself in her embrace ? 
 Though on her bosom I should glow, 
 Must I not feel her pangs, her ruin ? 
 What am I but an outcast, without home. 
 Or himian tie, or arm, or resting-place, 
 That like a torrent raved along in foam. 
 From rock to rock, with ravening fury wild. 
 On to the brink of the abyss ? And she. 
 In unsuspecting innocence a child. 
 Hard by that torrent's banks, in tiny cot, 
 Upon her little patch of mountain lea. 
 With aH her homely joys and cares, begot 
 And bounded in that httle world. 
 And I the abhorr'd of God, — ^"twas not 
 Enough that down with me I whirl'd 
 
FAUST. 173 
 
 The rifted rocks, and statter'd them ! I must 
 Drag her, her and her peace into the dust ! 
 Thou, Hell, must have this sacrifice perforce ! 
 Help, devil, then to abridge my torturing throes. 
 Let that which must be swiftly take its coiui'se, 
 Bring her doom down on me to crown my woes, 
 And o'er us both one whelming ruin close ! 
 
 Mbphistophbles. 
 
 Ho, up at boiUng point again ! 
 
 Get in, fool, and console her ! When 
 
 Such silly pates no outlet can descry. 
 
 They think the very crash of doom is nigh. 
 
 Give me the man, that on will go, 
 
 Not to be sway'd or shaken from his level ! 
 
 And yet at other times you show 
 
 A tolerable spice, too,- of the devU. 
 
 Go to ! The devil that despairs I deem 
 
 Of aU poor creatures poor in the extreme. 
 
 SCENE VIII.— Makgaeet's Eggm. 
 
 Mae&aeet (at her spinning-wheel alone). 
 
 :Y peace is gone. 
 My heart is sore ; 
 'Tis gone for ever 
 And evermore. 
 
 Where he is not. 
 
 Is the grave to me, 
 The whole world's changed. 
 
 Ah, bitterly. 
 
174 FAUST. 
 
 I sit and I ponder 
 One only thought, 
 
 My senses wander, 
 My brain 's distraught. 
 
 My peace is gone, 
 My heart is sore ; 
 
 'Tis gone for ever 
 And evermore. 
 
 From my -window to greet him 
 
 I gaze all day, 
 I stir out, if meet him 
 
 I only may. 
 
 His noble form. 
 His bearing high, 
 
 His mouth's sweet smile, 
 His mastering eye ; 
 
 And the magic flow 
 Of his talk, the bUss 
 
 In the clasp of his hand. 
 And oh ! his kiss ! 
 
 My peace is gone. 
 My heart is sore ; 
 
 'Tis gone for ever 
 And evermore. 
 
 For him doth my bosom 
 Cry out and pine ; 
 
 Oh, if I might clasp him. 
 And keep him mine ! 
 
FA UST. 175 
 
 And kiss him, kiss him, 
 As faui would I, 
 
 I 'd faint on his kisses. 
 Yes, faint and die ! 
 
 SCENE IX.— Mabtha's G-aeden. 
 
 Mabgabbt, Faust. 
 
 Mahgtabet. 
 |EOMISE me, Henry ! 
 Faust. 
 
 What I can, I will. 
 
 Maegaebt. 
 How do you stand ahout religion, say? 
 You are a thoroughly good man, but still 
 I fear, you don't think much ahout it any way. 
 
 FAlfST. 
 
 Hush, hush, my child ! You feel I. love you. Good ! 
 For those I love could lay down Ufe, and would. 
 No man would I of creed or church bereave. 
 
 Mabgabbt. 
 That is not right ; we must ourselves believe. 
 
 Faust. 
 Must we? 
 
 Maegaeet. 
 Ah, could I but persuade you, dear ! 
 You do not even the sacraments revere. 
 
176 FAUST. 
 
 Faust. 
 Eevere I do. 
 
 Maegaeet. 
 
 But seek them not, alas ! 
 For long you 've never gone to shrift or mass. 
 Do you believe in God ? 
 
 Fattst. 
 
 Love, who dare say, 
 I do believe in God ? You may 
 Ask priest or sage, and their reply 
 Will only seem to mystify. 
 And mock you. 
 
 Maegaeet. 
 
 Then you don't beheve ? 
 
 Faust. 
 My meaning, darling, do not misconceive. 
 ■ Him who dare name ? 
 Or who proclaim, 
 Him I believe ? 
 "Who feel, 
 Yet steel 
 
 Himself to say ; Him I do not believe ? 
 The All-Embracer, 
 The AU-Sustainer, 
 Embraces and sustains He not 
 Thee, me. Himself? 
 Rears not the heaven its arch above ? 
 Doth not the firm-set earth beneath us he ? 
 And with the tender gaze of love 
 Climb not the everlasting stars on high ? 
 Do I not gaze upon thee, eye to eye ? 
 And all the world of sight and sense and sound, 
 Bears it not in upon thy heart and brain. 
 
FA UST. Ill 
 
 And mystically weave around 
 
 Thy being influences that never wane ? 
 
 Fill thy heart thence even unto overflowing, 
 
 And when with thrill ecstatic thou art glowing, 
 
 Then caU it whatsoe'er thou wilt, 
 
 Bliss! Heart! Love! God! 
 
 Name for it have I none ! 
 
 Feeling is aU in aU ; 
 
 Name is but sound and smoke, 
 
 Shrouding heaven's golden glow ! 
 
 Mabgaeet. 
 
 AU this is beautiful and good ; just so 
 The priest, too, speaks to us at times. 
 In words, though, somewhat different. 
 
 Faust. 
 So speak the hearts of all men in aU climes, 
 O'er which the blessed sky is bent. 
 On which the blessed Ught of heaven doth shine, 
 Each in a language that is his ; 
 Then why not I in mine ? 
 
 MAEaABET. 
 
 To hear you speak, it looks not much amiss. 
 But still there 's something, love, about it wrong ; 
 For Christian you are not, I see. 
 
 Faust. 
 Dear child ! 
 
 Maegabet. 
 
 My heart has ached for long. 
 To see you in such company. 
 
 N 
 
178 FAUST. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 How so ? 
 
 Mab&aret. 
 
 The man, that is your mate, 
 Wakes in my inmost soul the deepest hate. 
 In all my life not anything 
 Has given my heart so sharp a sting, 
 As that man's loathsome yisage grim. 
 
 Faust. 
 Nay, dearest, have no fear of him. 
 
 MABaABBT. 
 
 His presence makes my blood congeal. 
 
 Kindly to all men else I feel ; 
 
 But howsoe'er for you I long. 
 
 From that man with strange dread I shrink ; 
 
 That he 's a knave I needs must think. 
 
 God pardon me, if I do him wrong ! 
 
 Faust. 
 Such odd fish there must always be. 
 
 Mabgabjet. 
 
 I would not live with such as he. 
 
 \^Tienever he comes, he 's sure to peer 
 
 In at the door with such a sneer. 
 
 Half angry-hke with me. 
 
 That he in no one thing takes part, is clear ; 
 
 On his brow 'tis written, as on a scroll, 
 
 That he can love no human soul. 
 
FAUST. 179 
 
 I feel so happy within thy arms, 
 
 So free, so glowing, so fearless of harms, 
 
 But in his presence my heart shuts to. 
 
 Pattst. 
 You sweet, foreboding angel, you ! 
 
 Maegabbt. 
 
 It masters me in such a way, 
 I even think, when he comes near. 
 That I no longer love you, dear. 
 If he were by, I never could pray, 
 And that eats into my heart ; you, too. 
 Must feel, my Henry, as I do. 
 
 Faust. 
 'Tis mere antipathy you bear. 
 
 Mab&aeet. 
 Now I must go. 
 
 Fatjst. 
 
 Oh, can I ne'er 
 Hang one short hour in quiet on thy breast, 
 Bosom by bosom, soul in soul caress'd? 
 
 Maegaeet. 
 
 Ah, if I only slept alone ! To-night 
 I 'd leave the door upon the latch, I would. 
 But mother sleeps so very light. 
 And, were we caught by her, I should 
 Drop dead upon the spot, I vow. 
 
180 FAUST. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 She need not know, thou angel, thou ! 
 Here is a phial ! Let her but take 
 Three drops of this, and it wiU steep 
 Nature in deep and pleasing sleep. 
 
 Mabgaeet. 
 
 TMiat would I not do for thy sake ? 
 Thou 'rt sure it will not do her harm ? 
 
 Faust. 
 Would I advise it, else ? 
 
 Mabgaret. 
 
 There 's some strange charm, 
 When I but look on you, that still 
 Constrains me, love, to do your will. 
 I have already done so much for you, 
 That scarce aught else is left for me to, do. [Exit. 
 
 Enter Mephistopheles. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 The siUy ape ! Is 't gone ? 
 
 Faust. 
 
 So, then, 
 Thou hast been playing spy again ? 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 I heard distinctly all that pass'd. 
 You had. Sir Doctor, first and last, 
 A stiflSsh dose of catechising. 
 
FAUST. 181 
 
 I 'm sure, I hope 'twill do you good ! 
 It certainly is not surprising, 
 These siUy-pated wenches should 
 Be always anxious to discover. 
 If in his prayers and pace their lover 
 Jogs on the good old humdrum way. 
 " If pliable in that," think they, 
 " Us too he 'U placidly obey." 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Thou monster, thou dost not perceive. 
 
 How such a loving faithful soul, 
 
 Full of her faith, which is 
 
 To her the one sole pledge of endless bhss, 
 
 Is rack'd by holy anguish, to believe 
 
 Him that she dotes on doom'd to everlasting dole. 
 
 Mbphistophblbs. 
 
 Thou supersenSual sensualist, a flirt, 
 A doU, a dowdy, leads thee by the nose. 
 
 Faust. 
 Thou vile abortion thou of fire and dirt! 
 
 Mbphistophbles. 
 
 What skill in physiognomy she shows ! 
 She turns she can 't tell how, when I am present ; 
 This Uttle mask of mine, it seems, reveals 
 Meanings conceal'd, but certainly unpleasant ; 
 That I'm a genius, past mistake she feels. 
 The devil's self, perhaps, for aught she knows. 
 Well, well, to-night ! 
 
182 FAUST. 
 
 Fatjst. 
 
 What's that to you? 
 
 Mbphistophelks. 
 Oho ! In that I have my pleasure, too. 
 
 END OF ACT THIRD. 
 
ACT IV. 
 
 SCENE I.— At the Well. 
 
 MARaABET and Bessy with pitchers. 
 
 Bessy. 
 HAT ! Barbara ? Not heard the news of her ? 
 
 Mabgabet. 
 Not I. Across the door I rarely stir. 
 
 Bessy. 
 
 Oh, never doubt it ! 
 
 To-day Sibylla told me al about it ! 
 
 She 's made a rare fool of herself at last. 
 
 This comes of her fine airs and flighty jinks ! 
 
 How so ? 
 
 Mabgaebt. 
 
 Bessy. 
 
 It won't keep down. That's long, long 
 She feeds for two now, when she eats and drinks. 
 
184 FAUST. 
 
 Margaret. 
 Alas' 
 
 Bessy. 
 
 She 's rightly served, the jade ! 
 For all the fuss she with the fellow made ! 
 Such gadding here, such gadding there. 
 At village wake, at dance, and fair ; 
 Must he first fiddle, too, everywhere ; 
 He was treating her always with tarts and wine ; 
 Set up for a heauty, she did, so fine, 
 And yet was so mean, and so lost to shame. 
 She took his presents, though, all the same. 
 And then the hugging, and the kissing ! 
 So the upshot is, her rose is missing. 
 
 Margaret. 
 Poor thing ! 
 
 Bessy. 
 
 What ! Pity her, and her sinning ! 
 When any of us was at the spinning, 
 Mother kept us indoors after dark. 
 But she was so sweet upon her spark. 
 On the bench by the door, and in the dark walk, 
 No hour was too long for their toying and talk. 
 So her fine fal-lals now my lady may dock. 
 And do penance at church in the sinner's smock. 
 
 Margaret. 
 But he will make her his wife, of course ! 
 
 Bessy. 
 A fool if he did ! A lad of mettle 
 
FAUST. 185 
 
 Can have lots of choice, or ever he settle. 
 Besides, he 's off. 
 
 Mabqaebt. 
 
 How could he do it ? 
 
 Bessy. 
 
 If she shoiild get him, she 's sure to rue it. 
 
 The hoys wiU tear her garland, and we 
 
 Strew chopp'd straw at her door, you 'U see. [^Exit. 
 
 Mabgabbt {going home). 
 
 What railing once rose to my lip. 
 
 If any poor girl made a sUp ! 
 
 My tongue hard words could scarcely frame 
 
 Enough to hrand another's shame. 
 
 It look'd so black, that blacken it 
 
 Howe'er I might, they seem'd unfit 
 
 To stamp its blackness infinite. 
 
 I bless'd myself and my nose up toss'd. 
 
 And now I, too, in sin am lost. 
 
 And yet, — and yet — alas ! the cause, 
 
 God knows, so good, so dear, it was ! 
 
186 FAUST. 
 
 SCENE II.— ZWINGEH. 
 
 In the niche of the wall a devotional image of the Mater 
 Dolorosa, and in front of it pots of flowers. 
 
 Mabgaebt {placing fresh flowers in the pots). 
 
 H thou, the soreat 
 Pangs that borest, 
 On mine look down with face benign ! 
 
 With anguish eyeing 
 Thy dear Son dying, 
 The sword that pierced His heart in thine, 
 
 Thou to the Father gazest, 
 
 And sighs upraisest 
 
 For His and for thy mortal pine. 
 
 Oh, who can feel, as thou, 
 
 Thy agony, that now 
 
 Tears me and wears me to the bone ! 
 
 How this poor heart is choked with tears, 
 
 All that it yearns for, all it fears, 
 
 Thou knowest, thou, and thou alone ! 
 
 Still wheresoe'er I go. 
 What woe, what woe, what woe 
 Is in my bosom aching ! 
 When to my room I creep, 
 I weep, I weep, I weep. 
 My heart is breaking. 
 
FAUST. 187 
 
 The bow-pots at my window 
 I with my tears bedew'd. 
 When over them at morn to pluck 
 These flowers for thee I stood. 
 
 Brightly into my chamber shone 
 The sun, when dawn grew red ; 
 Already there, all woebegone, 
 I sat upon my bed. 
 
 Help, sufferer divine ! 
 
 Save me, oh save 
 
 From shame and from the grave ! 
 
 And thou, the sorest 
 
 Pangs that borest. 
 
 On mine look down with countenance benign ! 
 
 SCEISDE III.— Night. 
 Street in front of Maboabet's door. 
 
 Valentine, 
 
 T drinking bouts, when tongues will wag. 
 And many are given to boast and brag, 
 "When praises of their own pet dears 
 Were dinn'd by comrades in my ears. 
 
 And drown'd in bumpers, I was able, 
 
 My elbow planted on the table. 
 
 To bide my time, and calmly stay'd, 
 
 Listening to all their'gasconade. 
 
188 FAUST. 
 
 Then with a smile my beard I 'd stroke, 
 
 And take a fuU glass in my hand ; 
 
 " Each to his fancy !" up I spoke, 
 
 " But who is there in all the land. 
 
 To match with my dear Gretel, — ^who 
 
 Is fit to tie my sister's shoe ?" 
 
 All round the room there went a hum. 
 
 Hob, nob ! Xling ! Klang ! " He's right ! " they cried, 
 
 " Of her whole sex she is the pride." 
 
 Then all the boasters, they sat dumb. 
 
 And now — oh, I could tear my hair, 
 
 And dash my brains out in despair ! — 
 
 Now every knave will think, he 's free 
 
 To have his gibe and sneer at me ! 
 
 And, like a bankrupt debtor, I 
 
 At each chance word must sit and fry. 
 
 Smash them all up I might : what though ? 
 
 I could not call them liars, — no ! 
 
 What 's here ? Ha ! skulking out of view ? 
 If I mistake not, there are two. 
 If it be he, at him I 'U drive. 
 He shall not quit this spot alive ! 
 
 Enter Faust and Mbphistophbles. 
 
 Fatjst. 
 How from the window of yon Sacristy 
 The Httle lamp's undying flame doth gKmmer, 
 While at the sides it flickers dim and dimmer. 
 And thicks the darkness round ! Ah me ! 
 Such midnight is it in my breast. 
 
 Mbphistophbles. 
 And I feel like a tom-cat, love distress'd. 
 
FAUST. 189 
 
 That up fire-ladders slily crawls, 
 ■ ^d steals on tip-toe i'ound the walls ; 
 I burn with quite a virtuous glow. 
 Half thievish joy, half concupiscence, so 
 Does the superb Walpurgis Night 
 Already thrill me with delight. 
 Just one night more, 'tis here, and then 
 One gets some real fun again. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Look ! What is that is glimmering there ? 
 The treasure rising to the upper air ? 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 Thou shalt ere long the pleasure test 
 Of digging up the httle chest. 
 I took a squint at it to-night. 
 Such hon-doUars broad and bright ! 
 
 Faitst. 
 
 How ! Not a trinket ? Not a ring. 
 To deck her out, my love, my sweet ? 
 
 MsPmSTOPHBLES. 
 
 I think I saw with them a string 
 Of pearls, or something just as neat. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 'Tis well ! It vexes me to go 
 To her without some gift to show. 
 
 Mbphistophbles. 
 
 'Tis not a thing to feel dismay for. 
 
 To have some pleasure you don't pay for ! 
 
190 FAUST. 
 
 Now heaven with stars is all aglow. 
 A genuine tidbit you shill hear ; 
 A moral song I '11 sing her, so 
 More thoroughly to befool the dear. 
 
 (Sings to the lute). 
 Katrina, say, 
 What makes you stay. 
 Ere dawn of day, 
 Before your sweetheart's door so 
 Away, away ! 
 The springald gay 
 Lets in a May, 
 Goes out a May no more so ! 
 
 Walk still upright ! 
 
 If once you 're Ught, 
 
 Why then, Good night ! 
 
 Poor things, 'twill ill bestead you. 
 
 Eefrain, reirain ! 
 
 Let no false swain, 
 
 Tour jewel gain, 
 
 Till with the ring he wed you ! 
 
 Valentini; {coming forward). 
 For whom are you caterwauling ? Curst 
 Ratcatcher you ! Out, trusty whinger ! 
 To the devil with the jingler first. 
 Then packing after it to send the singer ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 The lute is crack'd ! 'Tis ruin'd for the nonce. 
 
 Valentike. 
 Have at you ! Now to crack your sconce ! 
 
FA UST. 191 
 
 Mephistopheles (to Faust). 
 
 Tackle him, doctor ! Oovirage, hey ! 
 Stick close, and, as I bid you, do. 
 Out with your, duster ! Thrust away ! 
 I '11 do the parrying for you. 
 
 Valentine. 
 Then parry that ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 And wherefore not ? 
 
 VaI/ENTINE. 
 
 That too ! 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 Just so. 
 
 Vaientiite, 
 
 I 'd swear the devil fought ! 
 What say you, then, to that ? My hand's benumb'd. 
 
 Mephistopheles (to Faust). 
 Thrust home ! 
 
 Valentine. 
 Oh, oh ! 
 
 Mbphistophblbs. 
 
 The bumpkin has succumb'd. 
 Let us be oflF! We must evaporate ! 
 The hue and cry is up ! Hark ! What a clatter ! 
 With the police I might make things all straight. 
 But with the courts 'tis quite another matter ! 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
192 FA UST. 
 
 Maetha (at window). 
 Help ! Murder ! 
 
 Maegaket (at window). 
 
 Help! Alight! AUglit! 
 
 Mabtha (as hefore). 
 They brawl and scuffle, shout and fight. 
 
 People. 
 Here 's one of them already dead. 
 
 Mabtha (coming out). 
 The murdering villains ! Have they fled ? 
 
 Maboaebt (coming out). 
 Who 's this, lies here ? 
 
 People. 
 
 Your mother's son. 
 
 Maeoabet. 
 Almighty God ! I am undone. 
 
 ■ VALENTrNB. 
 
 I 'm dying ! Sooner done, than said. 
 Why, women, why do ye 
 Stand howling, whimpering there ? I 'm sped ! 
 Come close, and list to me ! 
 
 [All come round him. 
 Look, Gretchen ! You 're but young, — by far 
 Too shy and simple yet ! You are 
 A bungler in your trade. 
 Soft in your ear a fi'iendly hint ! 
 You are a whore ; so never stint. 
 But be right out a jade. 
 
FA UST. 193 
 
 Mabgabet. 
 BrotJier ! Great God ! Wiat mean you ? 
 
 Valbntiot;. 
 
 Shame ! 
 
 Out of your antics leave God's name ! 
 What 's done, alas the day ! is done, 
 And you must run the course of sin. 
 Ton on the sly begin with one. 
 But several soon come trooping in, 
 And, once you to a dozen faU. so. 
 Soon aU the town will have you also ! 
 
 When shame is born, she 's to the light 
 Brought stealthily 'mid grief and fears. 
 And she is in the veil of night 
 Wrapp'd over head and ears. 
 Yea, foDjB would kill her an' they might. 
 But grown, as grow she will apace. 
 She flaunts it in the broad daylight^ 
 And yet she wears no fairer face, 
 Nay, it grows uglier every way. 
 The more she seeks the light of day. 
 
 I see the time, — 'tis coming — when 
 Each honest-hearted citizen, 
 As from a plague-infected corpse. 
 Will turn aside from thee, thou whore ! 
 Thy heart will fail thee with remorse, 
 When people look thee in the face. 
 No more thou 'It wear a golden chain ; 
 Nor stand in church by the altar floor. 
 Nor in a collar of dainty lace 
 Shine foremost at the dance again. 
 
194 FAUST. 
 
 In some dark wretched nook thou 'It hide, 
 With cripples and heggars and nought beside, 
 And even though God forgiveness grant thee, 
 My curse upon the earth will haunt thee ! 
 
 Mabtha. 
 
 Colnmend your soul to God ! Would you 
 Lay on it the sin of slander, too ? 
 
 Valentine. 
 
 Thou shameless bawd, could I but smite 
 Thy wizen'd carcase, then I might 
 For all my sins of every kind 
 Full absolution hope to find. 
 
 Makgaebt. 
 Oh brother ! Eack me not, oh, pray ! 
 
 Valbntinb. 
 
 Have done with tears ! Have done, I say ! 
 ' To honour when you bade farewell. 
 You dealt my heart ite heaviest blow. 
 Now like a soldier, stout and fell, 
 Through Death's long sleep to God I go. 
 
FA VST. 195 
 
 SCENE rV.— Cathbdbal. 
 
 Service, Obgan and Anthem. 
 
 Maegaeet amongst a nv/mher of people. 
 Evil Spibit heJiind her. 
 
 EvTL Spirit. 
 
 OW different, Margaret, was 't with thee, 
 When thou, still, stiU all innocence, 
 Camest to the altar here, 
 And from the well thumb'd httle book 
 
 Didst prattle prayers, that were 
 
 Half childish playfulness. 
 
 Half God within the heart, 
 
 Margaret ! 
 
 How is it with thy head ? 
 
 "Within thy heart 
 
 What guiltiness ? 
 
 Art praying for thy mother's soul, that slept 
 
 Away to long, long agonies through thee ? 
 
 Upon thy threshold whose the blood ? 
 
 — ^And 'neath thy heart stirs not 
 
 What now is quickening there. 
 
 And with its boding presence racks 
 
 Itself and thee ? 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Woe! Woe! 
 
 Oh could I rid me of the thoughts, 
 
 That, spite of me. 
 
 Come rushing o'er my brain ! 
 
196 FAUST. 
 
 Choib. 
 Dies tree, dies ilia 
 Solvet scBclum in favilla ! \Organ plays. 
 
 'Eva, SpmiT. 
 
 Horror lays hold on tkee ! 
 The judgment trumpet sounds ! 
 The graves rock to and fro ! 
 And thy heart, from 
 Its ashy rest 
 Incorporate anew 
 For fiery pangs, 
 Quakes into life ! 
 
 Mabgabet. 
 
 Would I were out of this ! 
 I feel as though 
 The organ choked my hreath. 
 As though the anthem drew 
 The life-blood from my heart ! 
 
 Choib. 
 
 Judex ergo cum sedebit, 
 Quidquid latet adparehit, 
 Nil inultum remanebit. 
 
 Mabgabet. 
 
 It feels so close ! 
 The pillars of the wall 
 Press in upon me, 
 The arches of the roof 
 They weigh me down ! — Air ! 
 
FA UST. 197 
 
 Evil Spibit. 
 
 Hide thyself ! Sin and shame 
 Will not be hidden. — 
 Air? Light? 
 Woe to thee ! 
 
 Choib. 
 
 Quid sum miser tune dioturvs ? 
 Qwem j)a<ro*iMm rogaturus? 
 Gum vix Justus sit securws ? 
 
 Evil Spirit. 
 
 From thee the saints in bliss 
 Their faces turn away. 
 To reach their hands to thee 
 Makes the pure shudder ! Woe ! 
 
 Choib. 
 Quid sum m,iser tunc dicturus ? 
 
 Maeoabbt. 
 
 Neighbour ! Your smelling-bottle ! 
 
 [Swoons. 
 
198 FAUST. 
 
 SCENE v.— "Waxpdbgis Night. 
 
 Thb Haiiz Mountains. District op Schihke and Elend. 
 
 Faust, Mephistopheles. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 O you not wiph you had a broomstick, friend? 
 Oh, for a he-goat, rough and tough and strong ! 
 We 're still a long way from our joume/s end. 
 
 , Faust. 
 
 This knotted staff's enough for me, so long 
 As I feel fresh upon my legs. What boots 
 To cut our journey short, howe'er it lags ? 
 To thread this maze of valleys all at rest, 
 And then to clamber up to yonder crags. 
 From which the fountain ever-babbling shoots, 
 'Tis this which gives our journey all its zest. 
 The birchen spray is kindling with the Spring, 
 And even the duU pines feel its quickening ; 
 Shall it not also make our limbs more brisk ? 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Of that I feel no trace, nor wiU. 
 
 My body is all winter-chiU. 
 
 Would that our path lay over frost and snow ! 
 
 How sadly the red moon's imperfect disk 
 
 Moves up the sky with her belated glow. 
 
 And ^ves so bad a hght, that we run bump 
 
 At every step against some rock or stump ! 
 
FAUST. 199 
 
 By your permission, I will hail 
 
 A WiU-o'-Wisp. Out there I see 
 
 One biu-ning merrily. So ho, 
 
 My fiiend ! Will you before us sail ? 
 
 "Why win you waste your lustre so ? 
 
 Pray be so kind, as light us upward here. 
 
 WlLL-0'-Wl8P. 
 
 Out of respect I 'U struggle to repress. 
 And hope I may, my natural flightiness. 
 A zigzag course we 're rather apt to steer. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Ha, ha ! He fain would imitate mankind. 
 Hold, in the devil's name, straight on, or, mind, 
 I '11 blow your flickering Kfe out ! 
 
 Wii/L-o'-WiSP. 
 
 'T would appear, 
 That you are master of the household here, 
 So I 'U essay to do your bidding rightly. 
 But mind ! the mountain's- magic-mad to-day. 
 And if a WiU-o' -Wisp's to light the way, 
 You must not deal with him too tightly. 
 
 Faust, Mbphistopheles, and Will-o'-Wisp. 
 
 {In alternating song). 
 
 Now we 're in the sphere, I deem, 
 Of enchantment and of dream. 
 Lead us on, thou meteor-gleam, 
 Lepid us rightly, and apace. 
 To the deserts vast of space ! 
 
200 FAUST. 
 
 See, only see, tree after tree. 
 How thick and swift behind they drift;, 
 And crag and elift make mop and mow. 
 And the long-snouted crags below. 
 Hark, how they snort, and how they blow ! 
 
 Over moss and over stone. 
 Brook and brooklet race along. 
 "^Tiat noise is that, around, above ? 
 Hark, again ! The sounds of song. 
 Lovers lamenting and making moan, 
 Loosing their laden hearts in sighs. 
 Voices we knew in the days that are flown, 
 When to live and to love were paradise ? 
 All that we hope for, all that we love, 
 Throbs in the heart and thrills in the brain, 
 And Echo, Echo, hke the tale 
 Of ancient days, o'er hiU and dale 
 Eeverberates the strain ! 
 
 Tu-whit ! Tu-whoo ! More near, more near ! 
 
 The jargon rises shriU and clear. 
 
 The owl, the pewit, and the jay, 
 
 All awake and abroad are they. 
 
 Can those be salamanders there. 
 
 Long in leg, and huge in paunch. 
 
 Striding onwards through the brakes ? 
 
 Lo, the great roots gaunt and bare. 
 
 How from rock and sand they branch. 
 
 Wreathed fantastical like snakes. 
 
 In weirdest coils, which through the air 
 
 They stretch to scare and to ensnare us. 
 
 From wart-Hke knots, with life instinct. 
 
 Darting polyp-fibres, hnk'd 
 
FAUST. 201 
 
 To enmesh and overbear us ! 
 
 And see ! the mice of every hue, 
 
 How they crowd, and how they speed 
 
 Through the moss and through the heather ! 
 
 Up and down the &eflies, too, 
 
 FUt and flicker, throng'd together. 
 
 To bewilder and mislead ! 
 
 But, tell me, are we standing ? Say, 
 Which is moving, we or they ? 
 AH about us seems to spin. 
 Rocks and trees grimace and grin. 
 And, swollen and puff'd, on every side, 
 Will-o'-Wisps are multiplied. 
 
 Mephistophblks. 
 
 Grasp my skirt, and hold it tight, 
 Here 's a central peak, where we 
 Jklay with eyes of wonder see 
 The mountain all TOiJi JVTammon bright. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Through chasm and cleft how strangely gleams 
 
 A duU red light as of the dawn ! 
 
 Down to the very depths it streams. 
 
 Where gloomiest abysses yawn. 
 
 There clouds and exhalations rise, 
 
 Hef e from the mists light glimmers soft, 
 
 itfow Hke fine threads it winds and pUes, 
 
 Then like a fountain leaps aloft. 
 
 Here in a hundred veins it coils 
 
 For many a rood the valley through. 
 
 There, shut within yon gorge's toils, 
 
 In sparkles scatters out of view. 
 
202 FAUST. 
 
 Near us, like sprinkled sand of gold, 
 Are flame-sparks strewn upon the air. 
 And now, through all its height, hehold. 
 The wall of rocks is kindling there ! 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 
 Doth not Sir Mammon rarely light 
 His haUs up for our sports to-night ? 
 Lucky, you 've seen it ! I can hear. 
 Even now his boisterous guests are near. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 How through the air the storm-blast raves and hisses ! 
 It smites my neck, shock after shock. 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 
 You 'U have to clutch the old ribs of the rock, 
 
 Or it wiU hurl you down to yon abysses. 
 
 O'er the midnight a thick mist broods. 
 
 Hark to the crashing through the woods ! 
 
 To and fro, the boughs between. 
 
 The a&ighted owlets flit. 
 
 Hark, the columns, how they spUt, 
 
 Of the palaces evergreen ! 
 
 Hear to the branches straining, snapping, 
 
 The giant tree-stems' mighty moaning. 
 
 The huge roots yawning, creaking, groaning ; 
 
 Each across the other clapping, 
 
 Down they crash, and thunder all. 
 
 In mad and intertangled fall : 
 
 And through the cliffs with ruin strewn 
 
 The wild winds whiz, and howl, and moan. 
 
 Voices o'er us dost thou hear ? 
 
 Voices far, and voices near ? 
 
FAUST. 203 
 
 All the mountain-range along 
 Streams a raving Witches' song. 
 
 Witches (in chorus). 
 
 The Witches are for the Brocken hound,— 
 The stubbly is yellow, the blade is green,— 
 There shall a mighty throng be foimd, 
 Sir Urian seated aloft, between. 
 Eight over stock and stone they go, 
 • Beldame and buck-goat, hilloah, hiUoah ! 
 
 A Voice. 
 
 Old Baubo comes alone ; astride 
 A farrow-sow behold her ride ! 
 
 Chobus. 
 
 To whom is honour due be honour ! 
 Dame Baubo, adyance, and lead the way ! 
 A sturdy sow with a dame upon her 
 Is guide full meet for our troop so gay. 
 
 A Voice. 
 What road came you by ? 
 
 A Voice. 
 
 By Ilsenstein. 
 I peep'd, as I pass'd on my midnight prowl. 
 Into the nest of the homed owl ! 
 And didn't she open her eyes on mine ? 
 
 A Voice. 
 
 To hell with you, old weason-face ! 
 Why are ye riding at such a pace ? 
 
204 FAUST. 
 
 A Voice. 
 
 She grazed me as she pass'd. Just see, 
 The jade, how she has wounded me ! 
 
 Witches' Choeits. 
 
 The way is wide, the way is long. 
 
 Is this not a jolly hedlam throng ? 
 
 The pitchfork pricks, and the broom it scratches, 
 
 The babe is stifled, the mother she hatches. 
 
 WiZAEDS. HALF-CHoars. 
 
 We crawl Uke snails ; the womenkind 
 Have left us far and far behind ; 
 For woman, when to hell she rides. 
 Outstrips us by a thousand strides. 
 
 Other Haip. 
 
 That 's not at all the way we view it. 
 She takes a thousand strides to do it, 
 But, post howe'er she may, the man 
 Does it at once in a single span. 
 
 A Voice (above). 
 From Felsensee, come away, come away ! 
 
 Voices (from helow). 
 
 Up through the sky we fain would fly. 
 
 We 've wash'd, and we 're clean, as clean may be. 
 
 But barren for evermore are we. 
 
 Both Chokuses. 
 
 The wind is down, and the stars are flown. 
 The wan moon hides her woe-worn face. 
 
FA UST. 205 
 
 Along the dark shoot flame and spark, 
 To mark the wizards' roaring chase. 
 
 Voice {from below). 
 Hold hard! Hold hard! Befiind I 'm left. 
 
 Voice {from above). 
 
 Who is calling there from the rocky cleft ? 
 
 « 
 
 A Voice (from below). 
 
 Oh, take me with you ! Three hmidred year 
 Have I been chmbing, climbing here. 
 But never can I the summit gain. 
 To he with my fellows I were fain. 
 
 Both Choruses. 
 
 Besom and broomstick, he-goat and prong. 
 All are good to whisk you along ; 
 And surely the wight is in dolefiil plight 
 Who cannot mount in the air to-night. 
 
 Demi-Witch (from below). 
 
 I 've been tottering after this many a day. 
 And the rest are already so far away ! 
 No peace have I at home, and here 
 I 'm hkely to hght on no better cheer. 
 
 Chohtts 01' Witches. 
 
 'Tis ointment puts heart in the witches' crew. 
 
 Any fluttering rag for a sail will do, 
 
 Any trough make a stout ship to scud through the sky. 
 
 Who flies not to-night, he wiU never fly. 
 
206 FAUST. 
 
 Both Choeitses. 
 
 And when you have got to the mountain's crest, 
 Drop to the ground, where it likes you best. 
 And cover the moorland all round about 
 With the weltering swarm of your wizard rout ! 
 
 [They descend. 
 
 Mephjstopheles. 
 
 Here 's jamming, jolting, jabbering, justling. 
 Here 's whizzing, whirhng, babbling, bustling ! 
 Here 's flashing, sparkling, stinking, burning, 
 AH things topsy-turvy turning ! 
 The real hurly-burly, which is 
 Very meat and drink to witches ! 
 Stick close by me, or we shall be 
 Swept asunder presently. 
 Where art thou ? 
 
 Faust {in the distance). 
 Here ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 Ha ! Steady, steady ! 
 What ! torn away so far already ? 
 Then is it time I should make clear 
 My right as lord and master here. 
 Eoom for Sir Voland, room, I say ! 
 My most sweet people, please, make way ! 
 Here, doctor, here, take hold of me. 
 And let us at a boimd get free 
 Of this wild rabble, and its din there. 
 'Tis too mad even for such as I. 
 There 's something shining there hard by, 
 
FA UST. 207 
 
 Witli lustre quite peculiar. Look ! 
 
 Yon bushes seem a quiet nook. 
 
 Come, come along ! Let us slip in there ! 
 
 . Faust. 
 
 Spirit of contradiction ! Well, well, lead the way ! 
 Yet 'tis a splendid notion, I must say ; 
 To Brocken we on Mayday night repair. 
 To keep aloof from all, when we get there. 
 
 Mbphistophelbs. 
 
 What many-coloured flames ! Just see. 
 
 There is a jovial company ! 
 
 One 's not alone, however few the folk. 
 
 Fattst. 
 
 Up yonder I would rather be. 
 Already flames and whirling smoke 
 I see ascending, and the throng, 
 That to the Evil Spirit's lair 
 Tumultuously sweeps along ! 
 There would I be, for surely there 
 WiU many a riddle be untied. 
 
 Mbphistophelbs. 
 
 And many a riddle be knotted, too. 
 
 Let the great world go brawling on ! Aside 
 
 We 'n tarry here in quiet out of view. 
 
 With men the custom is of ancient date. 
 
 To make themselves small worlds within the great. 
 
 Young witches yonder I espy. 
 
 As naked as their mothers bore 'em, 
 
 And old ones, too, that, wisely shy, 
 
 Have veil'd their charms with true decorum. 
 
208 FA UST. 
 
 For my sake, now, be civil to them all. 
 
 The pastime 's great, the trouble small. 
 
 Hark ! Instrmnents a-tmiing ! Curse 
 
 Upon their blowing and their scraping ! 
 
 Come on, come on ! There 's no escaping ; 
 
 We must submit, or suffer worse. 
 
 I 'U step before and introduce you ; so 
 
 "WUl under further obligation lay you. 
 
 Look here, look here, my friend ! How say you ? 
 
 No squeezed up shabby ball-room this, no, no ! 
 
 Look onward there ! You scarce can see the end. 
 
 A hundred fires are burning, row on row. 
 
 They dance, they chat, cook, drink, make love. In short, 
 
 Where, let me ask, will you find better sport ? 
 
 Faust, 
 
 Win you, in ushering us into their revel, 
 Present yourself as wizard, or as devU ? 
 
 Mephistopheles . 
 
 My general rule 's to play incognito. 
 On gala days, however, one may show 
 One's orders. With no garter am I deck'd, 
 But here the horse hoof's held in high respect. 
 Dost see yon snail come crawling up ? 'Tis clear, 
 Her tentacles already have found out, 
 There 's something more than common hereabout. 
 Even if I would forswear myself, I could not here. 
 But come along ! From fire to fire we 'U go : 
 I will the pander be, and you the beau. 
 
 [ro some, who are seated round etejpiring emben 
 Old gentleman, what is the reason, pray. 
 You sit so far from all the mirth away ? 
 
FAUST. 209 
 
 I 'd think, you show'd more wisdom, if I found you 
 Bight in the thick of it in jovial mood. 
 With lots of brisk young wenches dancing round you. 
 At home one has enough of solitude. 
 
 Genebal. 
 
 Who can trust a nation's truth. 
 
 Though from ruin he may save her ? 
 For, just as with the women, youth 
 
 With them stands always first in favour. 
 
 MlNISTEB. 
 
 Folks now have all gone far astray. 
 
 The good old times ! that is my creed. 
 For when we 'd things all our own way, 
 
 That was the golden age indeed. 
 
 Pabventt. 
 
 No fools were we, yet I allow. 
 
 We often did the things we should not. 
 
 But aU 's tum'd topsy-turvy now, 
 
 Just when we most desired it would not. 
 
 AUTHOE. 
 
 Who, as a rule, wiU now read aught. 
 That has the least pretence to thought ? 
 
 And, as for the young people, they 
 Grow siUier, perter, every day. 
 
 Mephistophelbs {who all at once appears very old). 
 
 Mankind, I feel I may assume, 
 Are ripen'd for the day of doom. 
 Now that I here for the last time 
 The Moimtain of the Witches cUmb : 
 
210 FAUST. 
 
 My cask runs muddy, and one sees 
 The world is also on the lees. 
 
 A Witch {who traffics in old odds and ends). 
 
 Come, gentle folks, don't pass me so ! 
 
 Why throw a chance Uke this away ? 
 
 Ohserve my wares ; so choice a show 
 
 Is what you don't see every day. 
 
 Within my shop, sirs, there is nought — 
 
 A shop like it you 'U nowhere find — 
 
 But has its proper mischief wrought 
 
 Unto the world and to mankind. 
 
 Here is no dagger, hut has run with gore ; 
 
 No chaUce, but from it has flow'd 
 
 Hot shrivelling poison through each pore. 
 
 Which, tUl it came, with health had glow'd : 
 
 No trinket, but to shame it has betra/d 
 
 Some woman bom to be beloved ; no blade, 
 
 But has been drawn for treasons fell and black, 
 
 Or stabb'd a foe, perchance, behind his back. 
 
 Mephistophbles. 
 Ooz, coz, you 're quite behind the age. 
 For what it wants you have no feeling. 
 Now novelties are all the rage ; 
 . In these, then, you should take to dealing ! 
 
 Fatjst. 
 
 Grant that I may not lose my wits ! Was e'er 
 In all the universe so strange a Fair ! 
 
 MJEPKESTOPHELES. 
 
 To reach the top the whole mad throng are striving. 
 'Tis you are driven, and yet you think you 're driving. 
 
FA UST. 211 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Who, who is that ? 
 
 Mephistophblbs. 
 
 Observe her well. 
 'Tis Lilith. 
 
 Fatjst. 
 Who? 
 
 Mephistophelbs. 
 
 Adam's first wife. Beware 
 Of her and of her beauteous hair ! 
 Wherein she doth all women else excel. 
 A young man once let her with that ensnare, 
 It is a mesh he 'U find it hard to tear. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Yonder sit two, an old witch and a young ; 
 
 But now they danced Hke mad, and wheel'd, and fiung. 
 
 Mbphistophblbs. 
 
 No rest from that to-night ! They start anew. 
 Come, take a partner ! We must foot it, too. 
 
 Faust (domcing with a young witch). 
 
 I dream'd a dream, was sweet to see ; 
 
 In it I saw an apple tree. 
 
 And on it shone fair apples two, 
 
 I climb'd to pluck them, where they grew. 
 
 Tecb Faih, Onb. 
 
 From Eden downwards, you've, in sooth. 
 For pippms had a Kquorish tooth. 
 
212 FAUST. 
 
 It glads my very heart to know, 
 That such within my garden grow. 
 
 Mbphistopheles {with the old one). 
 
 I dream'd a dream, was wild to see ; 
 In it I saw a cloven tree. 
 It had a 3^ « « « JK 
 » » as it was, I fancied it. 
 
 The Old One. 
 
 With deepest reverence I salute 
 The cavaher of the horse's foot. 
 If at a * » he does not scare, 
 Let liim » * » straight prepai'e. 
 
 Pkoktophantasmist. 
 
 Confound your impudence ! Have we to you 
 Not proved long since hy reasons most complete. 
 That spirits never stand on ordinary feet ? 
 Yet here you dance, as common mortals do. 
 
 The Faib One (dancing). 
 What hrings him to our hall, now ? 
 
 Faust (dancing). 
 
 Oh! 
 He 's everywhere, and always so. 
 What others dance he must apprise. 
 Each step he cannot criticise 
 In his conceit 's no step at all. 
 The thing, that most excites his gall. 
 Is onward motion. If you would 
 In circles keep revolving still, 
 As he does in his ancient mill, 
 
FA UST. 213 
 
 No doubt he 'd say, all right and good ! 
 
 And that especially, provided 
 
 You own'd you were by his opinion guided. 
 
 Peoktophantasmist. 
 
 Still at it ! 'Tis past bearing ! Vanish hence ! 
 What ! in these days of high intelligence ! 
 This devilish crew despise all rule. We boast 
 Our great good sense, yet Tegel has its ghost. 
 The years, heaven knows how many, I have been 
 Sweeping out such delusions piece by piece ! 
 But never will the human mind be clean. 
 'Tis labom' lost — such foUies never cease. 
 
 The Fair One. 
 Then cease to bore us here. Give place ! 
 
 Peoktophantasmist. 
 
 I tell you, spirits, to your face, 
 I 'U not endure this spirit-thrall ! 
 My spirit cannot manage it at all. 
 
 \_The dancing proceeds. 
 No one to-night, I see, my word regards. 
 My journey for my pains have I ; 
 And stiU I hope, before I die. 
 To put a curb on devils and on bards. 
 
 Mephistophdles. 
 
 Straight in a puddle he will squat ; 
 He always soothes himself with that. 
 And when the leeches have grown plump 
 Upon the juices of his rump. 
 He 's cured, and without more ado, 
 
2U FAUST. 
 
 Of spirits, and of spirit, too. 
 
 [To Faust, who has left the dance. 
 Why have you left the pretty wench, that sang 
 So sweetly to you in the dance ? 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Ugh ! from iter mouth a red mouse sprang. 
 Even while she sang. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 A lucky chance ! 
 About such things we 're not too nice. 
 It was not grey, let that suflSce. 
 Who cares for trifles such as this, 
 When on the very brink of bliss ? 
 
 Faust. 
 Then I saw — 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 What? 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Mephisto, see'st thou there. 
 Far oflf, alone, a girl, pale, pale and sweet ?■ 
 She drags herself along, and with the air 
 Of one that makes her way with shackled feet 
 It cannot, cannot be ; and yet 
 She minds me of sweet Margaret. 
 
 Mephistopheles . 
 
 Don't look that way ! It can do nought but scaith. 
 'Tis but a magic shape, a lifeless wraith. 
 It is not well to meet such anywhere. 
 
FAUST. 215 
 
 It curdles up man's blood by its cold stare. 
 And by it he is tum'd to stone weU-nigh. 
 Thou 'st heard, of course, of the Medusa. 
 
 Fatjst. 
 
 Ay. 
 
 The eyes of one that 's dead, in sooth, are those, 
 Which there has been no loying hand to close. 
 That is the breast, Margaret gave up to me, 
 Those the sweet limbs, whose touch was ecstasy. 
 
 Mbphistophbles. 
 
 Thou ready gull, therein the sorcery lies. 
 
 To all that lore she wears the loved one's guise. 
 
 Fausi. 
 
 What bliss ? What torture ! From that stare 
 
 Myself away I cannot tear. 
 
 How strangely does a thin red line, 
 
 No thicker than a knife's back, deck 
 
 The marble of her lovely neck ! 
 
 Mephistophblbs. 
 
 Eight ! I too see it, thin and fine ! 
 Beneath her arm, too, she can carry 
 Her head, for Perseus cut it off, poor soul. 
 Pshaw ! Evermore the visionary ! 
 Come on with me to yonder knoU ; 
 The Prater's self is not more gay. 
 And, if I 'm not bewitch'd, I see 
 A real theatre'. What 's doing, hey ? 
 
 Sebvibilis. 
 They recommence immediately. 
 
216 FAUST. 
 
 'Tis a new piece, the last of seven. To play 
 
 That nmnher is the custom here. 
 
 The piece was written by an amateur, 
 
 And amateurs perform it. You '11, 1 'm sure, 
 
 Forgive me, if I disappear ; 
 
 It is my office, on these days, 
 
 The curtain, sirs, en amateur to raise. 
 
 Mbphistophelbs. 
 
 I 'm truly charm'd to see you here : 
 
 The Blocksberg's just your proper sphere. 
 
FAUST. 217 
 
 WALPUEGIS NIGHT'S DEEAM; 
 
 OK, OBERON AND TITANIA'S GOLDEN WEDDING. 
 
 Inteembzzo. 
 
 Manages, op the Theateb. 
 
 AENIVAL to-day we hold, 
 Mieding's children true we. 
 All our scenery, mountain old, 
 VaUey dank and dewy ! 
 
 Hbeald. 
 
 Golden is the wedding, when 
 
 Fifty years have roll'd on, 
 But, the feud once over, then 
 
 Golden it wiU hold on. 
 
 Obbeon. 
 
 Fairies, if ye haunt this ground. 
 
 Here do homage duly. 
 For your king and queen are bound 
 
 In love's fetters newly. 
 
 PrcK. 
 
 Puck, when he begins to spin, 
 
 And foot it in the dingle, 
 After him troop hundreds in, 
 
 With his mirth to mingle. 
 
218 FA UST. 
 
 AniEL. 
 
 Ariel with his silver song 
 Divine fills all the air, too, 
 
 Many frights to hear it throng. 
 Many that axe fair, too. 
 
 Obekon. 
 Learn ye, whom the marriage-hond 
 
 Has not made one-hearted, 
 If you would make a couple fond. 
 
 You 've hut to have them parted. 
 
 TiTANIA. 
 
 Is he aU snarl, and she all whim. 
 Upon them seize instanter. 
 
 Away to the South Pole with him, 
 And at the North Pole plant her ! 
 
 Obchestea (tutti fortissimo). 
 Fly's prohoscis, midge's nose. 
 
 And what to these akin are, 
 Frog and shriUing cricket, those 
 
 Purveyors of our din are. 
 
 Solo. 
 See where, a soap-bubhle sack, 
 
 The bag-pipe, it is coming ! 
 Hark the Schnecke-Schnicke-Schnack, 
 
 Through its snub-nose humming ! 
 
 SpmiT {tJmt is fashioning itself). 
 Paunch of toad and spider's foot. 
 
 With little wings below 'em, 
 Make not, 'tis true, a httle brute. 
 
 But make a little poem. 
 
FA UST. 219 
 
 A Padb op Lovbbs. 
 Tiny step and lofty leap 
 
 Through honeydew and vapours ; 
 Yet up in air you do not sweep, 
 
 Despite of allyour capers. 
 
 iNQtnSITrVB TaAVBLLBB. 
 
 Is this glamour, to fade anon ? 
 
 Shall I believe my sight, to 
 See the fair god Oberon 
 
 Here with us to-night, too ? 
 
 Oethodox. 
 No claws ! No tail ! And yet, I wis, 
 
 Undoubtedly the fact is. 
 That, like the gods of Greece, he is 
 
 A devil in his practice. 
 
 NOBTHBBN AbTIST. 
 
 My things at present, to be sure. 
 
 Are sketchy and unsteady, 
 StiU I for the ItaUan tour 
 
 Betimes am getting ready. 
 
 PtJBIST. 
 
 'Tis ill luck brings me here ; this crew. 
 
 Their din grows loud and louder. 
 And of the whole witch-medley two. 
 
 And only two wear powder. 
 
 TotrNG Witch. 
 Powder is, like petticoat. 
 
 For beldames old and ugly, 
 So I sit naked on my goat. 
 
 And show my body smugly. 
 
220 FA UST. 
 
 Mate ON. 
 With you we're too well-bred by far 
 
 To squabble on the spot, Miss ; 
 But, young and tender as you are, 
 
 I hope that you may rot, Miss. 
 
 Leader of the BA^rD. 
 Fly's proboscis, midge's nose. 
 
 These nude folk buzz not round so. 
 Frog and shrilling cricket, close 
 
 In, keep time, and sound so ! 
 
 Weathercock {towards one side). 
 More brilliant throng could heart desire ? 
 
 All brides, young, fresh, and active ! 
 And younkers, full of blood and fire, 
 
 A medley most attractive. 
 
 Weathercock: (towards the other side). 
 Well, if the ground here shall not gape. 
 
 These all to swallow plump down. 
 Right oflF, their antics to escape. 
 
 Into hell-pit I'U jump down. 
 
 Xenibn. 
 See us here as insects ! Ha ! 
 
 With nebs small, sharp, and sUtting, 
 To render Satan, our papa. 
 
 High homage, as befitting. 
 
 Heiwings. 
 See, how they crowd, and cheer the fun 
 
 Of every kind that 's started ! 
 They '11 even say, ere all is done. 
 
 That they are kindly-hearted ! 
 
FAUST. 221 
 
 MuSCYET. 
 
 Itself among this witches' rout 
 
 My fancy gladly loses ; 
 For I could manage them, no doubt, 
 
 More readily than the Muses. 
 
 Ol-DEVANT GrENItrS OF THE TiMB. 
 
 Cling to my skirts ! Wliate'er betide. 
 
 Our worth will somewhere class us ; 
 The Blocksberg's summit's broad and wide, 
 
 Like Germany's Parnassus. 
 
 Inquisitive Tbavellbb. 
 Who is yon stiff starch'd fellow, say, 
 
 With stride so pompous walking ! 
 He sniffs and sniffs where'er he may, 
 
 " 'Tis Jesuits he is stalking ! " 
 
 Cbake. 
 In troubled streams as well as clear 
 
 'Tis my delight to angle ; 
 So you see pious people here 
 
 With devils mingle-mangle. 
 
 WOELDLING. 
 
 Yes, nothing can the pious daunt, 
 
 This place is good as any ; 
 Upon the Blocksberg here they plant 
 
 Conventicles a-many. 
 
 Dancbb. 
 Hark, far-off drums ! Sure, some new throng 
 
 Is in the distance looming ! 
 Oh, never mind ! It is among 
 
 The reeds the bitterns booming ! 
 
222 FA UST. 
 
 Dancing Master. 
 Oh, how they fling, and jig, and flop, 
 
 Each capering as he best can. 
 The crooked skip, the clumsy hop, 
 
 To foot it, as the rest can. 
 
 FiDBLER. 
 
 Though mingling thus, this rabble crew 
 For hate would hke to rend them ; 
 
 As Orpheus' lyre together drew 
 
 The beasts, the bagpipes blend them. 
 
 Dogmatist. 
 Critic or sceptic shall not throw 
 
 A doubt on my ideals ; 
 The devil must be something, though. 
 
 Or how could devils be else ? 
 
 Idealist. 
 The fancy that doth work in me 
 
 For once much too intense is ; 
 In sooth, if I be all I see. 
 
 To-night I've lost my senses. 
 
 Eealist. 
 Oh, entities a world of strife 
 
 And torment do entail me ; 
 Here for the first time in my life 
 
 I find my footing fail me. 
 
 SUPBENATDRAIIST. 
 
 I'm quite enchanted with this scene. 
 Its' babble and confusions. 
 
 For as to angels I can e'en 
 From devils draw conclusions. 
 
FA UST. 223 
 
 Sceptic. 
 Upon the flamelet's track they roam, 
 
 And think the treasure near is ; 
 Here I am perfectly at home, 
 
 For doubt the deyil's fere is. 
 
 Lbadbb, op the Band. 
 Frog and shrilling cricket, those 
 
 Confounded dilettanti ! 
 Fly's proboscis, midge's nose. 
 
 You 're fine musicanti ! 
 
 The Kkto-wing Ones. 
 Sans souci, they call us so. 
 
 Us joUy dogs, that troR out ; 
 To walk on foot is now no go. 
 
 So on our heads we stroU out. 
 
 The Mat.ajboit Ones. 
 Ah, many rare good things, 'tis true. 
 
 We had of yore a hand in ; 
 But, oh ! our pumps are danced quite through. 
 
 And we're on bare soles standing ! 
 
 Will o' the Wisps. 
 We come fresh from our native haimts. 
 
 From bogs and from morasses. 
 But who, of all these gay gallants. 
 
 In glitter can surpass us ? 
 
 Stabflase. 
 I shot down hither from on high, 
 
 A star-fiire sheen all o'er me ; 
 Now prostrate on the ground I he, 
 
 Who 'U to my legs restore me ? 
 
224 FA UST. 
 
 The Massive Ones. 
 
 Room ! Eoom ! A lane there ! Clear the way ! 
 
 The grass snaps, where we jump once : 
 Lo ! Spirits come ; hut spirits they, 
 
 With bodies, ay, and plump ones ! 
 
 Puck. 
 
 Tread not, I beg, so heavily. 
 
 Like young calves elephantine ; 
 And let stout Puck the plumpest be 
 
 To-night our fairy haunt in ! 
 
 Abiel. 
 
 If you have wings, boon Nature's gift. 
 
 Then, ere our revel closes, 
 Away with me by grove and clift 
 
 Up to yon HU of roses ! 
 
 Obchestka (pianissimo). 
 
 On trailing cloud, and wreathed mist, 
 
 A sudden light has kindled ; 
 Trees, sedges whist, a breeze has kiss'd, 
 
 And all to air have dwindled ! 
 
 END OF ACT THE FOTTITH. 
 
ACT V. 
 
 SCENE I. — ^A Gloomy Day. Open Cotjntby. 
 
 Faust, Mephistopheles. 
 
 Fatjst. 
 N Misery ! In Despair ! After long wandering 
 wretched to and fro, to be now in prison ! She, 
 that gentle ill-starred being, immured as a 
 malefactor in a dungeon, to wait a frightful 
 doom ! And it has come to this ! to this ! 
 Treacherous, worthless Spirit, and thou hast kept this from 
 me ! — ^Ay stand there, stand ! EoU thy fiendish eyes in savage 
 wrath ! Stand and defy me by thy intolerable presence ! A 
 prisoner ! in irremediable misery ! Given over to wicked 
 spirits, and to the merciless judgment of men ! And me, me 
 wert thou all the while lulling into forgetfulness, with vapid 
 dissipations hiding her hourly increasing wretchedness from 
 me, and leaving her to perish without help. 
 
 Mephistophelbs. 
 She is not the first. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Hound ! Detestable monster ! Change him, thou infinite 
 Spirit, change the reptile once more into that semblance of a 
 Q 
 
226 FAUST. 
 
 dog, in whicli he often delighted to gambol before me at night, 
 to double himself up at the feet of the harmless wayfarer, and, if 
 he fell, to fasten his fangs upon his shoulders. Change him 
 again into his favourite shape, that he may crawl on liis belly 
 in the dust before me, that I may spurn him with my feet, 
 accursed as he is ! — ^Not the &st ! — Wo ! Wo ! Not by the 
 soul of man is it to be comprehended, how more than one human 
 creature has sunk to such a depth of misery, — how the first did 
 not in its writhing death-agony make satisfaction for all the rest 
 before the eyes of Him that evermore forgives ! The misery 
 of this single soul pierces my very marrow, eats into my life ; 
 thou grinnest complacently at the fate of thousands ! 
 
 Mbphistopheles. 
 
 Now are we once more at our wit's end, strung to that 
 pitch, at which the reason of you mortals snaps. Why do you 
 make fellowship with us, if you cannot be one of us out and 
 out? Will you fly, yet are not proof against dizziness ? Did 
 we force ourselves on you, or you on us ? 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Gnash not thy ravening teeth against me thus ! I 'm sick 
 of it ! — Great and sublime Spirit, thou who didst deign to 
 reveal thyself to me, thou who knowest my heart and my soul, 
 why link me to this infamous yoke-fellow, who feeds on mis- 
 chief, and battens on destruction ? 
 
 Mbphistophbles. 
 Hast done ? 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Save her ! Or woe to thee ! The awfullest of curses smite 
 thee for myriads of years ! 
 
FAUST. 227 
 
 Mbphistopheles 
 
 I cannot loose the bonds of the avenger, nor undo his bolts. 
 — Save her ! — Who caused her ruin ? I or thou ? [Faust 
 looks wildly round']. Would' st grasp the thunder ? 'Tis well, 
 it was not given to you miserable mortals. To crush the first 
 innocent man he comes across, that is just the tyrant's way 
 of making a clearance for himself out of a difficulty. 
 
 • Faust. 
 Take me where she is ! She shall be free ! 
 
 Mbphistophble s . 
 
 And the danger which you run ? Eemember the guilt of 
 blood, shed by your hand, still hes upon the town. Avenging 
 spirits hover over the spot where the victim fell, and lie in wait 
 for the returning mtirderer ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 This too from thee ? A world's murder and death upon thee. 
 Monster ! Conduct me thither, I say, and set her free ! 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 I will conduct thee ; hear what I can do ! Have I all 
 power in heaven and on earth ? I will cast a glamour over 
 the gaoler's senses ; do you possess yourself of his keys, and 
 bear her off with mortal hands. I shall watch outside. My 
 magic horses shall be ready to carry you away. This much 
 I can do. 
 
 Faust. 
 Up and away ! 
 
228 FA UST. 
 
 SCENE II. — ^NiGHT. Open Counthy. 
 
 Faust, Mephistopheles, sweeping along on hlacJc horses. 
 
 Faust. 
 ^HAT weave they yonder round the Eavenstone ? 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 Can't tell what mess they have in hand. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 They wave up, they wave down, they are swaying and 
 stooping. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 
 A Witches' Guild. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 They strew and make libation. 
 
 Mephistopheles. 
 Push on ! Push on ! 
 
FAUST. 229 
 
 SCEKE III.— A Dungeon. 
 Faust with a bundle of Jceys, before a small iron door. 
 
 Faust. 
 
 QUAKE with a strange dread. Tlie woe of all 
 Mankind possesses me. This is her cell ! 
 Here does she he behind this cold dank wall, 
 And all her crime was having loved too well. 
 Why do I hang back thus ? Is 't fear 
 To think how I again shall see her ? 
 
 Onward ! Each moment's pause brings nearer her death-knell. 
 [^Ojoening the lock. A voice is heard 
 within singing. 
 My mother, the wanton. 
 She took my life, 
 My. father, the rogue, 
 Ate me up with his knife ! 
 My wee little sister 
 She pick'd up my bones, 
 And laid them to cool 
 All under the stones. 
 Then I turn'd to a woodbird 
 So bonnie to see ; 
 Fly away, fly away 
 To the woodland with me ! 
 
 Faust {opens the door}. 
 
 She httle dreams that her beloved is near, 
 
 The rattling chams, the rustling straw can hear. 
 
 [He enters. 
 
230 FA UST. 
 
 Maegaket (hiding her face on her pallel). 
 They come ! Oh bitter death ! Oh woe is me ! 
 
 Faust {softly). 
 Hush ! hush ! I come to set thee free ! 
 
 Mabgabbt (throwing herself at his feet). 
 If thou be'st human, feel for my distress ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Thou 'It wake the sentinels ! These cries repress. 
 
 [Takes hold of her fetters to unlock them. 
 
 Maegaeet (on her Jcnees). 
 
 Who, hangman, who has given you right 
 
 To treat me thus — or who could give ? 
 
 You fetch me, while 'tis yet midnight. 
 
 Oh, pity me, and let me live ! 
 
 Is daybreak to-morrow not soon enough ? [Rises. 
 
 Oh, I am still so young, so young. 
 
 And yet must die ! 
 
 Fair, too, they told me, once was I, 
 
 And that was my undoing. He was nigh. 
 
 My own dear love, in those sweet hours. 
 
 But now he 's far away from me. 
 
 My wreath is torn, and scatter'd are its flowers. 
 
 Seize me not with a grasp so rough ! 
 
 Spare me, what have I ever done to thee ? 
 
 Oh let me not in vain implore ! 
 
 I never saw thee all my days before. 
 
 Faust. 
 Can I survive this miserable hour ? 
 
FA U8T. 231 
 
 MABaABBT. 
 
 Now I am wholly in your power. 
 
 To do with me whatever you think best ; 
 
 But to the babe &st let me give the breast ! 
 
 AH through the night I coax'd and atill'd it : 
 
 They took it from me to vex my brain, 
 
 And now they say, I would have kill'd it, 
 
 And never shall I be bUthe again. 
 
 The people, they sing songs about me. 
 
 To sting me, and flout me. 
 
 Ah, they mean me unkindly by it ; 
 
 An old tale ends so. Who bade them apply it? 
 
 Faust {flings himself on the ground). 
 
 Thy lover here Ues prostrate at thy feet. 
 To rend these miserable bonds, my sweet ! 
 
 Maegabet (throws herself hy his side). 
 Oh, let us kneel to call upon the saints ! 
 Look ! Look ! Under the stair ! 
 Under the door there, 
 The fires of heU, 
 
 They seethe, and they roar there ! 
 The fiend within, 
 Eurious and fell. 
 Is making a din ! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Margaret ! Margaret ! 
 MLaegaiibt 
 
 That was my loved one's voice ! 
 
 \_She springs wp — h^r fetters fall of) 
 Where is he ? Where ? I heard him call. 
 I'm free ! I'm free ! Let no one try 
 
232 FAUST.. 
 
 To stay me ! On his neck I '11 fall, 
 
 Upon his hosom lie ! 
 
 He call'd on Margaret ! stood there at the door ! 
 
 Through all hell's howhng and its roar, 
 
 Through devilish scoff, and gibe, and groan, 
 
 I recognized the sweet, the loving tone ! 
 
 Faust. 
 'Tis I ! 
 
 Mabgaebt. 
 Thou, thou ! Oh, say it once again ! 
 
 {^Clasping him. 
 'Tis he, 'tis he ! Where now are all my pains ? 
 The anguish of the dungeon? Of the chains ? 
 'Tis thou ! Thou com'st to rescue me ! Oh, then, 
 Then I am saved. Oh now again 
 Along the street I wander free, 
 Where first I met with thee ; 
 Am in the cheerful garden, by the gate. 
 Where for thee I and Martha wait. 
 
 Fattst {trying to force her away). 
 Come with me ! Come ! 
 
 Maeoabet. 
 
 Oh, stay ! 
 I like so much to stay, love, where thou stay'st. 
 
 Faust. 
 Quick, quick, away ! 
 Oh, if thou wilt not haste. 
 We shall rue dearly the delay ! 
 
 Mabgabet. 
 How's this ? 
 Thou can'st no longer kiss ? 
 
FAUST. 233 
 
 Parted from me so short a time, and yet 
 
 Thou could'st the way to kiss forget ? 
 
 Why do I grow so sad upon thy hosom now, 
 
 When from thy words, thy looks, in other days 
 
 A whole heaven flooded me, and thou 
 
 Didst kiss, as thou wouldst stifle me, always ? 
 
 Kiss me, or I'U kiss thee ! \_Embraees him. 
 
 Oh, woe is me ! 
 
 Thy lips are cold, they chiU me through. 
 
 How ! not one word ! Where hast thou left 
 
 Thy love? Oh, who 
 
 Has thy poor Margaret of that hereft ? 
 
 [Turns away from Km. 
 
 Faust. 
 Come, foUow me ! Take courage, oh my sweet ! 
 I'll clasp thee to my heart, when this is o'er, 
 A thousand times more fondly than before, 
 So thou 'It but follow me. Hence, I entreat ! 
 
 Mabgabbt (turning to him). 
 And is it thou, then, thou ? And is this true ? 
 
 Faust. 
 Oh, yes ! Come ! Come ! 
 
 Mabgaebt. 
 
 My chains thou wilt undo. 
 Take me again into thy breast ! — So, so ! 
 How comes it, that thou shrinkest not from me ? ' 
 Oh, my sweet love, dost thou, then, know. 
 Whom thou art setting free ? 
 
 Faust. 
 Come ! Come ! The night 's already on the wane ! 
 
234 FAUST. 
 
 Mabgaeet. 
 My mother I have slain, 
 And drown'd my child ! To thee 
 The little one was given, and me ; 
 To thee, love, too ! 'Tisthou! Oh, can it be? 
 Give me thy hand ! Yes ! Yes ! these are no dreams, — 
 Thine own dear hand. But, woe is me ! 'tis wet ! 
 How ! dripping, dripping yet ? 
 How it doth run ! 
 Oh, wipe it off ! Meseems, 
 
 There 's blood upon 't ! Ah God ! what hast thou done ? 
 Put up thy sword ! Oh sheathe it, I implore ! 
 
 Fattst. 
 Let what is past be past ! I can no more. 
 Each word thou speak'st is death to me. 
 
 Mabgabet. 
 No, I must go, but thou must stay. 
 I will describe the graves to thee : 
 To-morrow thou to them must see 
 By break of day. 
 
 For mother the best place provide. 
 Then to her lay my brother nearest ; 
 Me a little to one side. 
 But not too far off, dearest ! 
 And the httle one on my breast to the right ! 
 No one else shall lie by me. 
 Ah, love, to nestle up to thee. 
 It was a sweet, a dear delight ! 
 But that I never again shall know. 
 I have a feeling as if I must 
 Hang, cling to thee, and thou didst thrust 
 Me back — back — ^back ! Yet, wherefore so ? 
 Thou art, thou lookest, so good, so kind ! 
 
FAUST. 235 
 
 Faust. 
 If such thou feel'st I am, come, come, lo-v% ! 
 
 Mabqabbt. 
 
 Where? 
 Out yonder ? 
 
 Faitst. 
 Out to the open air ! 
 
 Mabgabet. 
 
 If the grave is there, 
 
 If death is waiting, come ! 'Tis best. 
 
 From here into the bed of everlasting rest, 
 
 And not a step beyond ! Ah me ! 
 
 Thou 'rt going ? Henry, if I might with thee ! 
 
 Faust. ' 
 
 Thou canst ! Decide ! See, open stands the door ! 
 
 Mabgabet. 
 
 I dare not go. For me all hope is o'er. 
 What boots to fly ? Beset with spies am I. 
 It is so hard to have to beg your way. 
 And with an evil conscience harder stiU ; 
 It is so hard in a strange land to stray, 
 And they wiU catch me, do whate'er I wiU. 
 
 Faust. 
 Then I remain with thee ! 
 
 Mabgabet. 
 Fly, fly! 
 
 Thy child will die ! 
 Save it, oh, save it ! 
 
236 FA UST. 
 
 . Away ! away ! 
 ]Jeep to the path, 
 Up by the brook, 
 And info the wood beyond ! 
 Strike to the left 
 By the plank in the pond ! 
 Quick ! Seize it, seize it ! 
 It tries to rise ! 
 It is struggUng yet. 
 Help! Help! 
 
 Faust. 
 
 Be calm ! be still ! 
 
 Only one step, and thou art free ! 
 
 Mabgaket. 
 
 ' Oh, were we only past the hiU ! 
 There sits my mother upon a stone ; 
 My temples throb with an icy dread. 
 There sits my mother upon a stone, 
 And to and fro she waves her head : 
 Her eyes are set, she makes no moan. 
 Her hand is heavy as lead. 
 She slept so long, no more she 'U wake ; 
 She slept, that we our delight might take ; 
 That was a happy time ! 
 
 Fattst. 
 
 Thou 'rt deaf to all remonstrance, prayer. 
 And I perforce must bear thee hence. 
 
 Mabgaeet. 
 
 Unhand me ! Cruel one, forbear ! 
 I vidll endure no violence. 
 
FAUST. 237 
 
 Lay not this murderous grasp on me. 
 Time was, I gave up all to pleasure thee ! 
 
 Faust. 
 The day is breaking ! Darling ! Darling ! 
 
 Maegabbt. 
 
 Ay! 
 The day, indeed ! The last day draweth nigh. 
 It should have been my weddiag day. Let no one know, 
 That thou hast been with Margaret before. 
 Woe to my garland, woe ! 
 Already all is o'er. 
 Love, we shall meet once more. 
 But not in the dance, ah, no ! 
 The multitude, they come ! 
 So hush'd, you cannot hear the hum. 
 The lanes, the streets, the square 
 Scarce hold the thousands there. 
 ThebeR! Hark to its boom ! 
 The staff of doom 
 
 Is broken. How they biud me, blind me ! 
 Now to the seat of blood they drag me off; 
 And every neck doth feel 
 The quiver of the steel. 
 That 's quivering for mine ! 
 Now lies the world all silent as the grave. 
 
 Faust. 
 Oh, that I never had been born ! 
 
 Mephistopheles (puppmrs at the door). 
 Away! 
 Away ! Or you are lost for ever ! 
 
238 FA UST. 
 
 Truce to this waiting and prating, this bootless delay ! 
 
 My horses shiver ! 
 
 The morning is dawning grey ! 
 
 Maegabbt. 
 
 What 's that sprang from the ground ? I know its face. 
 Send him away ! 'tis he ! 'tis he ! 
 What should he do in a holy place ? 
 He comes for me. 
 
 Faust. 
 Thou shalt — must live ! 
 
 Mabgaret. 
 
 Judgment of God ! 
 
 Myself unto Thy mercy I resign ! 
 
 Mbphistopheles (to Faust). 
 
 Come ! Come ! How 's this ? You wiU not stir ? 
 I 'R leave you in the lurch with her. 
 
 Maegaebt. 
 
 Thine am I, Father, thine ! 
 Save me ! Ye angels ! Ministers of light. 
 Compass me round with your protecting might ! 
 Henry, I shudder as I think of thee. 
 
 Mephistophelbs. 
 She 's judged. 
 
 Voice {from above). 
 She 's saved. 
 
FAUST. 239 
 
 Mbphistophblbs {to Faust). 
 
 Away with me ! 
 [Disappears with Fatjst. 
 
 Voice {from within, dying away). 
 Henry ! Henry ! 
 
 CHISWICK PRESS : PRINTED BY WHITTINGHAM AND WILKINS, 
 
 TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE. 
 
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