FAUST 


A Wragedp 


BY 


JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE 


TRANSLATED, IN THE ORIGINAL METRES, BY 


BAYARD TAYLOR 


TWO VOLUMES IN ONE 
VOL. I. 


Wer die Dichtkunst will verstehen, 
Muss ins Land der Dichtung gehen 
Wer den Dichter will verstehen, 
Muss in Dicnters Lande gehen. 
GorTHE 





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BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
Che Riverside Press Cambridge 


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, COPYRIGHT, 1898 AND 1912, BY MARIE HANSEN TAYLOR 


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\ vA ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 


COPYRIGHT, 1870, BY BAYARD TAYLOR 







MARVARD UNIVERSITY 
LIBRARY 


JAN 30 1979 


Vy eee 











PREFACE. 


T is twenty years since I first determined to 

attempt the translation of /aus/, in the origi- 
nal metres. At that time, although more than a 
score of English translations of the First Part, 
and three or four of the Second Part, were in ex- 
istence, the experiment had not yet been made. 
The prose version of Hayward seemed to have 
been accepted as the standard, in default of any- 
thing more satisfactory: the English critics, gener- 
ally sustaining the translator in his views concern- 
ing the secondary importance of form in Poetry, 
practically discouraged any further attempt ; and 
no one, familiar with rhythmical expression through 
the needs of his own nature, had devoted the ne- 
cessary love and patience to an adequate repro- 
duction of the great work of Goethe’s life. 

Mr. Brooks was the first to undertake the task, 
and the publication of his translation of the First 
Part (in 1856) induced me, for a time, to give up 
my own design. No previous English version ex- . 


iy FAUST. 


hibited such abnegation of the translator’s own 
tastes and habits of thought, such reverent desire 
to present the original in its purest form. The 
care and conscience with which the work had been 
performed were so apparent, that I now state with 
reluctance what then seemed to me to be its only 
deficiencies, — a lack of the lyrical fire and flu- 
ency of the original in some passages, and an 
occasional lowering of the tone through the use 
of words which are literal, but not equivalent. 
The plan of translation adopted by Mr. Brooks 
was so entirely my own, that when further resi- 
dence in Germany and a more careful study of 
both parts of Fuust had satisfied me that the field 
was still open, — that the means furnished by the 
poetical affinity of the two languages had not yet 
been exhausted, — nothing remained for me but to 
follow him in all essential particulars. His exam- 
ple confirmed me in the belief that there were few 
difficulties in the way of a nearly literal yet thor- 
oughly rhythmical version of /aus/, which might 
not be overcome by loving labor. A comparison 
of seventeen English translations, in the arbitrary 
metres adopted by the translators, sufficiently 
showed the danger of allowing license in this 
respect: the white light of Goethe’s thought was 
thereby passed through the tinced glass of other 
minds, and assumed the coloring of each. More- 
over, the plea of selecting different metres in the 
hope of producing a similar effect is unreasonable, 
where the identical metres are possible. 








PREFACE. Vv 


The value of form, in a poetical work, is the 
first question to be considered. No poet ever 
understood this question more thoroughly than 
Goethe himself, or expressed a more positive opin- 
ion in regard to it. The alternative modes of 
translation which he presents (reported by Riemer, 
quoted by Mrs. Austin, in her “ Characteristics of 
Goethe,” and accepted by Mr. Hayward),* are 
quite independent of his views concerning the 
value of form, which we find given elsewhere, in 
the clearest and most emphatic manner.f Poetry 


# “<¢ There are two maxims of translation,’ says he: ‘the 
me requires that the author, of a foreign nation, be brought 
to us in such a manner that we may regard him as our own ; 
the other, on the contrary, demands of us that we transport 
ourselyes over to him, and adopt his situation, his mode of 
speaking, and his peculiarities. The advantages of both are 
sufficiently known to all instructed persons, from masterly 
examples.’ ”’ 

Is it necessary, however, that there should always be this 
alternative ? Where the languages are kindred, and equally 
capable of all varieties of metrical expression, may not both 
these “maxims” be observed in the same translation ? 
Goethe, it is true, was of the opinion that Fusst ought to be 
given, in French, in the manner of Clément Marot; but this 
was undoubtedly because he felt the inadequacy of modern 
French to express the naive, simple realism of many pas- 
sages. The same objection does not apply to English 
There are a few archaic expressions in Faust, but no more 
than are still allowed — nay, frequently encouraged — in tl. 
English of our day. 

t “You are right,” said Goethe; “there are great and 
mysterious agencies included in the various forms of Poetry 
If the substance of my ‘ Roman Elegies’ were to be ex- 


vi FAUST, 


is not simply a fashion of expression: it is the 
form of expression absolutely required by a cer- 
tain class of ideas. Poetry, indeed, may be dis- 
tinguished from Prose by the single circumstance, 
that it is the utterance of whatever in man cannot 
be perfectly uttered in any other than a rhythmical 
form: it is useless to say that the naked meaning 
is independent of the form: on the contrary, the 
form contributes essentially to the fulness of the 
meaning. In Poetry which endures through its own 
inherent vitality, there is no forced union of these 


pressed in the tone and measure of Byron's ‘ Don Juan,’ it 
would really have an atrocious effect.” — Eckermann. 

‘“‘ The rhythm,” said Goethe, ‘‘is an unconscious result of 
the poetic mood. If one should stop to consider it mechan- 
ically, when about to write a poem, one would become be- 
wildered and accomplish nothing of real poetical value.” — 
Lhid. 

““ All that is poetic in character should be rhythmically treated | 
Such is my conviction; and if even a sort of poetic prose 
should be gradually introduced, it would only show that the 
distinction between prose and poetry had been completely 
lost sight of.” — Goethe to Schiller, 1797. 

Tycho Mommsen, in his excellent essay, Die Kunst des 
Deutschen Uebersetsers aus neueren Sprachen, goes so far as to 
say: ‘‘The metrical or rhymed modelling of a poetical work 
is so essentially the germ of its being, that, rather than by 
giving it up, we might hope to construct a similar work of 
art before the eyes of our countrymen, by giving up or 
changing the substance. The immeasurable result which 
has followed works wherein the form has been retained — 
such as the Homer of Voss, and the Shakespeare of Tieck 
and Schlegel —is an incontrovertible evidence of the vital 
ity of the endeavor.” 


PREFACE. a 


two elements. They are as intimately blended, 
and with the same mysterious beauty, as the sexes 
in the ancient Hermaphroditus. To attempt to 
represent Poetry in Prose, is very much like at- 
tempting to translate music into speech.* 

The various theories of translation from the 
Greek and Latin poets have been admirably stated 
by Dryden in his Preface to the “ Translations 
from Ovid’s Epistles,” and I do not wish to con- 
tinue the endless discussion, — especially as our 
literature needs examples, not opinions. A recent 
expression, however, carries with it so much au- 
thority, that I feel bound to present some consid- 
erations which the accomplished scholar seems to 
have overlooked. Mr. Lewesf justly says: ‘The 
effect of poetry is a compound of music and sug- 
gestion ; this music and this suggestion are inter- 
mingled in words, which to alter is to alter the 
effect. For words in poetry are not, as in prose, 
simple representatives of objects and ideas: they 
are parts of an organic whole, — they are tones in 
the harmony.” He thereupon illustrates the effect 
of translation by changing certain well-known 
English stanzas into others, equivalent in meaning, 
but lacking their felicity of words, their grace and 
melody. I cannot accept this illustration as valid, 
because Mr. Lewes purposely omits the very qual- 


* “Goethe’s poems exercise a great sway over me, not 
only by their meaning, but also by their rhythm. It is a lan- 
guage which stimulates me to composition.” — Beethoven. 

t Life of Goethe (Book VL.). 


Vili FA OST. 


ity which an honest translator should exhaust his 
skill in endeavoring to reproduce. He turns away 
from the ove dest word or phrase in the English lines 
he quotes, whereas the translator seeks precisely 
that one best word or phrase (having @// the re- 
sources of his language at command), to represent 
what is said in another language. More than this, 
his task is not simply mechanical: he must feel, 
and be guided by, a secondary inspiration. Sur- 
rendering himself to the full possession of the 
spirit which shall speak through him, he receives, 
also, a portion of the same creative power. Mr. 
Lewes reaches this conclusion: “If, therefore, we 
reflect what a poem faust is, and that it contains 
almost every variety of style and metre, it will be 
tolerably evident that no one unacquainted with 
the original can form an adequate idea of it from 
translation,” * which is certainly correct of any 
translation wherein something of the rhythmical 
variety and beauty of the original is not retained. 
That very much of the rhythmical character may 
be retained in English, was long ago shown by 
Mr. Carlyle,f in the passages which he translated, 


* Mr. Lewes gives the following advice: ‘The English 
reader would perhaps best succeed who should first read 
Dr. Anster’s brilliant paraphrase, and then carefully go 
through Hayward’s prose translation.” This is singularly 
at variance with the view he has just expressed. Dr. 
Anster’s version is an almost incredible dilution of the 
original, written in ofker metres; while Hayward’s entirely 
omits the element of poetry. 

t Foreign Review, 1828. 








PREFACE. iy 


both literally and rhythmically, from the e/ena 
(Part Second). In fact, we have so many in- 
stances of the possibility of reciprocally transfer- 
ring the finest qualities of English and German 
poetry, that there is no sufficient excuse for an 
unmetrical translation of Faust. I refer especially 
to such subtile and melodious lyrics as “ The Cas- 
tle by the Sea,” of Uhland, and the “ Silent Land ” 
of Salis, translated by Mr. Longfellow ; Goethe’s 
“Minstrel” and “Coptic Song,” by Dr. Hedge ; 
Heine’s “ Two Grenadiers,” by Dr. Furness, and 
many of Heine’s songs by Mr. Leland ; and also 
to the German translations of English lyrics, by 
Freiligrath and Strodtmann.* 

I have a more serious objection, however, to 
urge against Mr. Hayward’s prose translation. 


* When Freiligrath can thus give us Walter Scott : — 


‘*Kommt, wie der Wind kommt, 
Wenn Walder erzittern ! 
Komnt, wie die Brandung 
Wenn Filotten zersplittern ! 
Schnell heran, schnell herab, 
Schneller kommt Alle ! — 
Hiupiling und Bub’ und Knapp, 
Herr und Vasalle!”’ 


or Strodtmann thus reproduce Tennyson : — 


** Es falit der Strahl auf Burg und Thal, 
Und schneeige Gipfel, reich an Sagen ; 
Viel’ Lichter wehn auf blauen Seen, 
Bergab die Wasserstiirze jagen ! 
Blas, Hifthorn, blas, in Wiederhall erschallend : 
Blas, Horn — antwortet, Echos, hallend, hallend, hallend !” 


— it must be a dull ear which would be satisfied with the 
omission of rhythm and rhyme. 


x FAUST. 


Where all the restraints of verse are flung aside, 
we should expect, at least, as accurate a reproduc- 
tion of the sense, spirit, and tone of the original, 
as the genius of our language will permit. So far 
from having given us such a reproduction, Mr. 
Hayward not only occasionally mistakes the exact 
meaning of the German text,* but, wherever two 
phrases may be used to express the meaning with 
equal fidelity, he very frequently selects that which 
has the less grace, strength, or beauty.t For there 
are few things which may not be said, in English, 
in a twofold manner, — one poetic, and the other 
prosaic. In German, equally, a word which in 


* On his second page, the line Mein Lied ertont der un- 
bekannien Menge, ‘‘My song sounds to the unknown multi- 
tude,” is translated : “‘ My sorrow voices itself to the strange 
throng.” Other English translators, I notice, have followed 
Mr. Hayward in mistaking Leed for Led. 

t I take but one out of numerous instances, for the sake 
of illustration. The close of the Soldier’s Song (Part I. 
Scene II.) is: — 

** Kihn is das Mithen, 
Herrlich der Lohn ! 
Und die Soldaten 
Ziehen davon.” 
Literally : 
Bold is the endeavor, 
Splendid the pay ! 
And the soldiers 
March away. 
This Mr. Hayward translates : — 
Bold the adventure, 
Noble the reward — 
And the soldiers 
Are off. 





PREFACE. xi 


ordinary use has a bare prosaic character may 
receive a fairer and finer quality from its place in 
verse. The prose translator should certainly be 
able to feel the manifestation of this law in both 
languages, and should so choose his words as to 
meet their reciprocal requirements. A man, how- 
ever, who is not keenly sensible to the power and 
beauty and value of rhythm, is likely to overlook 
these delicate yet most necessary distinctions. 
The author’s thought is stripped of a last grace in 
passing through his mind, and frequently presents 
very much the same resemblance to the original as 
an unhewn shaft to the fluted column. Mr. Hay- 
ward unconsciously illustrates his lack of a refined 
appreciation of verse, “in giving,” as he says, “a 
sort of rhythmical arrangement to the lyrical parts,” 
his object being “to convey some notion of the 
variety of versification which forms one great 
charm of the poem.” A literal translation is al- 
ways possible in the unrhymed passages ; but even 
here Mr. Hayward’s ear did not dictate to him the 
necessity of preserving the original rhythm. 

While, therefore, I heartily recognize his lofty 
appreciation of Faust, — while I honor him for the 
patient and conscientious labor he has bestowed 
upon his translation, —I cannot but feel that he 
has himself illustrated the unsoundness of his ar- 
gument. Nevertheless, the circumstance that his 
prose translation of Faust has received so much 
acceptance proves those qualities of the original 
work which cannot be destroyed by a test so vio- 


xii FAUST. 


lent. From the cold bare outline thus produced, 
the reader unacquainted with the German language 
would scarcely guess what glow of color, what rich- 
ness of changeful life, what fluent grace and energy 
of movement have been lost in the process. We 
must, of course, gratefully receive such an outline, 
where a nearer approach to the form of the origi- 
nal is impossible, but, until the latter has been 
demonstrated, we are wrong to remain content 
with the cheaper substitute. 

It seems to me that in all discussions upon this 
subject the capacities of the English language 
have received but scanty justice. The intellectual 
tendencies of our race have always been somewhat 
conservative, and its standards of literary taste 
or belief, once set up, are not varied without a 
struggle. The English ear is suspicious of new 
metres and unaccustomed forms of expression: 
there are critical detectives on the track of every 
author, and a violation of the accepted canons Is 
followed by a summons to judgment. ‘Thus the 
tendency is to contract rather than to expand the 
acknowledged excellences of the language.* The 


* I cannot resist the temptation of quoting the following 
passage from Jacob Grimm: “No one of all the modern 
languages has acquired a greater force and strength than the 
English, through the derangement and relinquishment of its 
ancient laws of sound. The unteachable (nevertheless /carn- 
able) profusion of its middle-tones has conferred upon it an 
intrinsic power of expression, such as no other human tongue 
ever possessed. Its entire, thoroughly intellectual and won- 
derfully successful foundation and perfected development 





PREFACE. xiit 


difficulties in the way of a nearly literal translation 
of Faust in the original metres have been exagger- 
ated, because certain affinities between the two 
languages have not been properly considered. 
With all the splendor of versification in the work, 
it contains but few metres of which the English 
tongue is not equally capable. Hood has famil- 
iarized us with dactylic (triple) rhymes, and they 
are remarkably abundant and skilful in Mr. Low- 
ell’s “ Fable for the Critics”: even the unrhymed 
iambic hexameter of the eéena occurs now and 
then in Milton’s Samson Agonistes. It is true that 
the metrical foot into which the German language 
most naturally falls is the ¢vochaic, while in Englisn 
it is the samdic: it is true that German is rich, 
involved, and tolerant of new combinations, while 


issued from a marvellous union of the two noblest tongues 
of Europe, the Germanic and the Romanic. Their mutual 
relation in the English language is well known, since the 
former furnished chiefly the material basis, while the latter 
added the intellectual conceptions. The English language, 
by and through which the greatest and most eminent poet 
of modern times — as contrasted with ancient classical 
poetry — (of course I can refer only to Shakespeare) was 
begotten and nourished, has a just claim to be called a lan- 
guage of the world; and it appears to be destined, like tne 
English race, to a higher and broader sway in all quarters 
of the earth. For in richness, in compact adjustment of 
parts, and in pure intelligence, none of the living languages 
can be compared with it, — not even our German, which is 
divided even as we are divided, and which must cast off m>ny 
imperfections before it can boldly enter on its career.-. ~ 
Ueber den Ursprung der Sprache. 


xiv FAUST. 


English is simple, direct, and rather shy of com- 
pounds; but precisely these differences are so 
modified in the German of Faust that there is a 
mutual approach of the two languages. In Faust, 
the iambic measure predominates ; the style is 
compact; the many licenses which the author 
allows himself are all directed towards a shorter 
mode of construction. On the other hand, Eng- 
lish metre compels the use of inversions, admits 
many verbal liberties prohibited to prose, and so 
inclines towards various flexible features of its 
sister-tongue that many lines of Faust may be 
repeated in English without the slightest change 
of meaning, measure, or rhyme. There are words, 
it is true, with so delicate a bloom upon them that 
it can in no wise be preserved ; but even such 
words will always lose less when they carry with 
them their rhythmical atmosphere. The flow of 
Goethe’s verse is sometimes so similar to that of 
the corresponding English metre, that not only its 
harmonies and ceesural pauses, but even its punc- 
tuation, may be easily retained. 

I am satisfied that the difference between a 
translation of Faust in prose or metre is chiefly 
one of labor, — and of that labor which is success- 
ful in proportion as it is joyously performed. My 
own task has been cheered by the discovery, that 
the more closely I reproduced the language of the 
original, the more of its rhythmical character was 
transferred at the same time. If, now and then, 
there was an inevitable alternative of meaning or 











PREFACE. xv 


music, I gave the preference to the former. By 
the term “ original metres ” I do not mean a nigid, 
unyielding adherence to every foot, line, and 
rhyme of the German original, although this has 
very nearly been accomplished. Since the greater 
part of the work is written in an irregular measure, 
the lines varying from three to six feet, and the 
rhymes arranged according to the author’s will, I 
do not consider that an occasional change in the 
number of feet, or order of rhyme, is any violation 
of the metrical plan. The single slight liberty I 
have taken with the lyrical passages is in Marga- 
ret’s song, — “ The King of Thule,” —in which, 
by omitting the alternate feminine rhymes, yet re- 
taining the metre, I was enabled to make the trans- 
lation strictly literal. If, in two or three instances, 
I have left a line unrhymed, I have balanced the 
omission by giving rhymes to other lines which 
stand unrhymed in the original text. For the same 
reason, I make no apology for the imperfect 
rhymes, which are frequently a translation as well 
as a necessity. With all its supreme qualities, 
Faust is far from being a technically perfect work.* 


* “ At present, everything runs in technical grooves, and 
the critical gentlemen begin to wrangle whether in a rhyme 
an s should correspond with an s and not with ss. If I were 
young and reckless enough, I would purposely offend all 
such technical caprices : I would use alliteration, assonance, 
false rhyme, just according to my own will or convenience — 
but, at the same time, I would attend to the main thing, and 
endeavor to say so many good things that every 6ne would 
be attracted to read and remember them.” — Goethe, in 1831. 


xvi FA OST. 


The feminine and dactylic rhymes, which have 
been for the most part omitted by all metrical 
translatars except Mr. Brooks, are indispensable. 
The characteristic tone of many passages would 
be nearly lost, without them. ‘They give spirit and 
grace to the dialogue, point to the aphoristic por- 
tions (especially in the Second Part), and an ever- 
changing music to the lyrical passages. The 
English language, though not so rich as the 
German in such rhymes, is less deficient than 
is generally supposed. The difficulty to be over- 
come is one of construction rather than of the 
vocabulary. ‘The present participle can only be 
used to a limited extent, on account of its weak 
termination, and the want of an accusative form 
to the noun also restricts the arrangement of 
words in English verse. I cannot hope to have 
been always successful; but I have at least la- 
bored long and patiently, bearing constantly in 
mind not only the meaning of the original and 
the mechanical structure of the lines, but also 
that subtile and haunting music which seems to 
govern rhythm instead of being governed by it. 

The Second Part of Aaus¢ has been translated 
five times into English (by Birch, Bernays, Mac- 
donald, Archer Gurney, and Anster), but not one 
of the versions has ever been published in the 
United States. Inasmuch as this part was in- 
cluded in Goethe’s original design, the First Part, 
although apparently complete as a tragic episode, 
is in reality but a fragment, wherein the deeper 





PREFACE. XVil 


problems upon which the work is based are left 
unsolved. I consider, therefore, that the Second 
Part is necessary (as necessary, indeed, as the 
Faradiso to the Divina Commedia of Dante); and 
my aim, in the second volume of this translation, 
will be to make that necessity clear, alike to the 
English reader and to those who follow various 
German and English critics in disparaging the 
original. 











AN GOETHE. ‘ é ‘ 5 é 


DEDICATION. . gon rats ‘ 


PRELUDE ON THE STAGE . ‘ 


PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN . oe % 


Scene I. 
II. 
HII. 
IV. 
V. 
VL 
VII. 
VIIL 
IX. 
X. 
XL 
XII. 
XIIL 


XIV. 


NIGHT (Faust’s Monologue) 


BEFORE THE C1Ty-GATE 


PROMENADE. 

THE N&IGHBOR’S. HOUSE 
STREET. ; : 
GARDEN : ‘ - 
A GARDEN-AREBOR . 
Forest AND CAVERN . 


THE Stupy (Zhe Exorcism) 
THE Stupy (Zhe Compact) . 
AUERBACH’S CELLAR 
WitcnHEs’ KITCHEN 
A STREET. ‘ oS: . le 
EVENING ‘ . . 


Pac 


DD 7 


17 


8Fsess 


I 
113 
Wy 
123 
126 
135 
138 
146 
148 


xx CONTENTS. 


XV. MARGARET’S Room . . 6 © « 354 
XVI. MARTHA’Ss GARDEN. ow % 156 
XVII AT THE FOUNTAIN . ‘ je - 163 
XVIII. DOonyjon (Margaret's Prayer) Oe 166 
XIX. NicutT (Valentine’s Death) . - « 168 
XX. CATHEDRAL. ok . ° ; 175 


XXI. WaALpurGIs-NIGHT . ‘ F ‘ . 178 
XXII. OBERON AND TITANIA’S GOLDEN WED- 

DING . . ae ‘ : - 195 

XXIII. Dreary Day ‘ ; ‘ ‘ . 203 

XXIV. NIGHT. . ‘ ; : 3 - 206 


XXV. DUNGEON. . ‘ ° : . 207 


NOTES . . . .. . . «© 2 27 


APPENDIX. 
I. THe Faust-LEGEND . . «© + + 337 
IL CHRONOLOGY OF Faust .  - «© : = 345 


III. ScENE FROM MARLOwE’s “ Faustus ” - 354 











AN GOETHE. 


L 


[rRHA BENER Getst, tm Getsterretch verioren / 
Wo immer Deine lichte Wohnung sey, 

Zum hoh’ren Schaffen bist Du neugeboren, 

Und singest dort die voll’re Litanei. 

Von jenem Streben das Du auserkoren, 

Vom reinsten Ether, drin Du athmest frei, 

O neige Dich su gnadigem Erwiedern 

Des letsten Wiederhalls von Deinen Liedern / 


IT. 


Den alten Musen die bestdubten Kronen 

Nahmst Du, su neuem Glansz, mit kiihner Hand: 
Du list die Rathsel dltester ALonen 

Durch jiingeren Glauben, helleren Verstand, 


xxii AN GOETHE. 


Und machst, wo rege Menschengeister wohnen, 
Die ganse Erde Dir sum Vaierland ; 

Und Deine Finger sehn in Dir, verwundert, 
Verkirpert schon das werdende Fakrhundert. 


Til. 


Was Du gesungen, Aller Lust und Klagen, 

Des Lebens Wiederspriiche, neu vermahlt, — 

Die Harfe tausendstimmig frisch geschlagen, 

Die Shakspeare einst, die einst Homer gewéhlt, — 

Darf ich in fremde Klange tibertragen 

Das Alles, wo so Mancher schon gefehit ? 

Lass Deinen Geist in meiner Stimme klingen, 

Und was Du sangst, lass mith es Dir nachsingen / 
B. T. 

















DEDICATION.’ 


ed 


5 aie ye come, ye hovering Forms! I find ye, 
As early to my clouded sight ye shone! 

Shail I attempt, this once, to seize and bind ye? 

Still o’er my heart is that illusion thrown? 

Ye crowd more near! Then, be the reign assigned ye, 
And sway me from your misty, shadowy zone! 

My bosom thrills, with youthful passion shaken, 

From magic airs that round your march awaken. 


Of joyous days ye bring the blissful vision ; 

The dear, familiar phantoms rise again, 

And, like an old and half-extinct tradition, 

First Love returns, with Friendship in his train. 
Renewed is Pain: with mournful repetition 

Life tracks his devious, labyrinthine chain, 

And names the Good, whose cheating fortune tore them 
From happy hours, and left me to deplore them. 


They hear no longer these succeeding measures, 
The souls, to whom my earliest songs I sang: 
Dispersed the friendly troop, with all its pleasures, 
And still, alas! the echoes first that rang! 

VOL. I. 1 


2 FAUST. 


I bring the unknown multitude my treasures ; 

Their very plaudits give my heart a pang, 

And those beside, whose joy my Song so flattered, 

If still they live, wide through the world are scattered. 


And grasps me now a long-unwonted yearning 
For that serene and solemn Spirit-Land: 

My song, to faint AZolian murmurs turning, 
Sways like a harp-string by the breezes fanned. 
I thrill and tremble; tear on tear is burning, 
And the stern heart is tenderly unmanned. 
What I possess, I see far distant lying, 

And what I lost, grows real and undying. 











PRELUDE ON THE STAGE.’ 


—@—— 


MANAGER. Dramatic Poet. MERRY-ANDREW. 


MANAGER. 


OU two, who oft a helping hand 
Have lent, in need and tribulation, 

Come, let me know your expectation 
Of this, our enterprise, in German land! 
I wish the crowd to feel itself well treated, 
Especially since it lives and lets me live ; 
‘Lhe posts are set, the booth of boards completed,3 
And each awaits the banquet I shall give. 
Already there, with curious eyebrows raised, 
They sit sedate, and hope to be amazed. 
I know how one the People’s taste may flatter, 
Yet here a huge embarrassment I feel: 
What they ’re accustomed to, is no great matter. 
But then, alas! they ’ve read an awful deal. 
How shall we plan, that all be fresh and new, — 
Important matter, yet attractive too? 
For ’t is my pleasure to behold them surging, 
When to our booth the current sets apace, 
And with tremendous, oft-repeated urging, 
Squeeze onward through the narrow gate of grace: 
By daylight even, they push and cram in 


4 FAUST. 


To reach the seller’s box, a fighting host, 

And as for bread, around a baker’s door, in famine, 
To get a ticket break their necks almost. 

This miracle alone can work the Poet 

On men so various: now, my friend, pray show it. 


POET. 


Speak not to me of yonder motley masses, 

Whom but to see, puts out the fire of Song! 

Hide from my view the surging crowd that passes, 
And in its whirlpool forces us along! . 

No, lead me where some heavenly silence glasses 

The purer joys that round the Poet throng, — 

Where Love and Friendship still divinely fashion 

The bonds that bless, the wreaths that crown his passion! 


Ah, every utterance from the depths of feeling 
The timid lips have stammeringly expressed, — 
Now failing, now, perchance, success revealing, — 
Gulps the wild Moment in its greedy breast ; 

Or oft, reluctant years its warrant sealing, 

Its perfect stature stands at last confessed ! 

What dazzles, for the Moment spends its spirit: 
What’s genuine, shall Posterity inherit. 


MERRY-ANDREW. 


Posterity! Don’t name the word to me! 

If Z should choose to preach Posterity, 

Where would you get cotemporary fun? 

That men weé/ have it, there’s no blinking: . 
A fine young fellow’s presence, to my thinking, 

Is something worth, to every one. 

Who genially his nature can outpour, 

Takes from the People’s moods no irritation ; 

The wider circle he acquires, the more 





PRELUDE. 5 


Securely works his inspiration. 

Then pluck up heart, and give us sterling coin! 
Let Fancy be with her attendants fitted, — 
Sense, Reason, Sentiment, and Passion join, — 
But have a care, lest Folly be omitted ! 


MANAGER. 
Chiefly, enough of incident prepare ! 
They come to look, and they prefer to stare.‘ 
Reel off a host of threads before their faces, 
So that they gape in stupid wonder: then 
By sheer diffuseness you have won their graces, 
And are, at once, most popular of men. 
Only by mass you touch the mass; for any 
Will finally, himself, his bit select: 
Who offers much, brings something unto many,5 
And each goes home content with the effect. 
If you ’ve a piece, why, just in pieces give it: 
A hash, a stew, will bring success, believe it! 
°T is easily displayed, and easy to invent. 
What use, 2 Whole compactly to present? 
Your hearers pick and pluck, as soon as they receive it! 


POET. 


You do not feel, how such a trade debases ; 
How ill it suits the Artist, proud and true! 
The botching work each fine pretender traces 
Is, I perceive, a principle with you. 


MANAGER. 


Such a reproach not in the least offends; 

A man who some result intends 

Must use the tools that best are fitting. 
Reflect, soft wood is given to you for splitting, 
And then, observe for whom you write! 


6 FAUST. 


If one comes bored, exhausted quite, 

Another, satiate, leaves the banquet’s tapers, 

And, worst of all, full many a wight 

Is fresh from reading of the daily papers. 

Idly to us they come, as to a masquerade, 

Mere curiosity their spirits warming : 

The ladies with themselves, and with their finery, aid, 
Without a salary their parts performing. 

What dreams are yours in high poetic places? 
You ’re pleased, forsooth, full houses to behold? 
Draw near, and view your patrons’ faces ! 

The half are coarse, the half are cold. 

One, when the play is out, goes home to cards; 

A wild night on a wench’s breast another chooses : 
Why should you rack, poor, foolish bards, 

For ends like these, the gracious Muses? 

I tell you, give but more — more, ever more, they ask: 
Thus shall you hit the mark of gain and glory. 
Seek to confound your auditory ! 

To satisfy them is a task. — 

What ails you now? Is ’t suffering, or pleasure? 


POET. 


Go, find yourself a more obedient slave ! 
What! shall the Poet that which Nature gave, 
The highest right, supreme Humanity, 

Forfeit so wantonly, to swell your treasure ? 
Whence o’er the heart his empire free ? 

The elements of Life how conquers he? 

Is ’t not his heart’s accord, urged outward far and dim, 
To wind the world in unison with him ? 

When on the spindle, spun to endless distance, 
By Nature’s listless hand the thread is twirled, 
And the discordant tones of all existence 

In sullen jangle are together hurled, 











PRELUDE. 4 


Who, then, the changeless orders of creation 
Divides, and kindles into rhythmic dance? 

Who brings the One to join the general ordination, 
Where it may throb in grandest consonance? 
Who bids the storm to passion stir the bosom ? 

In brooding souls the sunset burn above ? 

Who scatters every fairest April blossom 

Along the shining path of Love? 

Who braids the noteless leaves to crowns, requiting 
Desert with fame, in Action’s every field ? 

Who makes Olympus sure, the Gods uniting? 
The might of Man, as in the Bard revealed. 


MERRY-ANDREW. 


So, these fine forces, in conjunction, 

Propel the high poetic function, 

As in a love-adventure they might play! 

You meet by accident; you feel, you stay, 

And by degrees your heart is tangled ; 

Bliss grows apace, and then its course is jangled ; 
You’re ravished quite, then comes a touch of woe, 
And there’s a neat romance, completed ere you know! 
Let us, then, such a drama give! 

Grasp the exhaustless life that all men live! 

Each shares therein, though few may comprehend: 
Where’er you touch, there’s interest without end. * 
In motley pictures little light, 

Much error, and of truth a glimmering mite, 

Thus the best beverage is supplied, 

Whence all the world is cheered and edified. 
Then, at your play, behold the fairest flower 

Of youth collect, to hear the revelation ! 

Each tender soul, with sentimental power, 

Sucks melancholy food from your creation ; 

And now in this, now that, the leaven works, 


8 FAUST. 


For each beholds what in his bosom lurks. 

They still are moved at once to weeping or to laughter, 
Still wonder at your flights, enjoy the show they see: 
A mind, once formed, is never suited after ; 

One yet in growth will ever grateful be. 


POET. 


Then give me back that time of pleasures, 
While yet in joyous growth I sang, — 
When, like a fount, the crowding measures 
Uninterrupted gushed and sprang! 

Then bright mist veiled the world before me, 
In opening buds a marvel woke, 

As I the thousand blossoms broke, 

Which every valley richly bore me! 

I nothing had, and yet enough for youth — 
Joy in Illusion, ardent thirst for Truth. 

Give, unrestrained, the old emotion, 

The bliss that touched the verge of pain, 
The strength of Hate, Love’s deep devotion, «= 
O, give me back my youth again! 


MERRY-ANDREW. 


Youth, good my friend, you certainly require 
When foes in combat sorely press you; 
When lovely maids, in fond desire, 

Hang on your bosom and caress you; 
When from the hard-won goal the wreath 
Beckons afar, the race awaiting ; 

When, after dancing out your breath, 

You pass the night in dissipating : — 

But that familiar harp with soul 

To play, — with grace and bold expression, 
And towards a self-erected goal 

To walk with many a sweet digression, — 


PRELUDE. 


This, aged Sirs, belongs to you,® 

And we no less revere you for that reason : 

Age childish makes, they say, but ’t is not true; 
We're only genuine children still, in Age’s season ! 


MANAGER. 


The words you ’ve bandied are sufficient ; 

'T is deeds that I prefer to see: 

In compliments you ’re both proficient, 

But might, the while, more useful be. 

What need to talk of Inspiration ? 

’T is no companion of Delay. 

If Poetry be your vocation, 

Let Poetry your will obey! 

Full well you know what here is wanting ; 

The crowd for strongest drink is panting, 

And such, forthwith, I’d have ycu brew. 
What’s left undone to-day, To-morrow will not da 
Waste not a day in vain digression : 

With resolute, courageous trust 

Seize every possible impression, 

And make it firmly your possession ; 

You ’ll then work on, because you must. 

Upon our German stage, you know it, 

Each tries his hand at what he will; 

So, take of traps and scenes your fill, 

And all you find, be sure to show it! 

Use both the great and lesser heavenly light, ~ 
Squander the stars in any number, 

Beasts, birds, trees, rocks, and all such lumber, 
Fire, water, darkness, Day and Night! 

Thus, in our booth’s contracted sphere, 

The circle of Creation will appear, 

And move, as we deliberately impel, 


From Heaven, across the World, to Heli !7 
1° 





PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN: 


THE Lorp. THE HEaventy Hosts. Aféer- 
wards MEPHISTOPHELES. 


(Zhe THREE ARCHANGELS come forward.) 


RAPHAEL. 


HE sun-orb sings, in emulation, 
’Mid brother-spheres, his ancient round: 

His path predestined through Creation 
He ends with step of thunder-sound. 
The angels from his visage splendid 
Draw power, whose measure none can say; 
The lofty works, uncomprehended, 
Are bright as on the earliest day. 


GABRIEL. 


And swift, and swift beyond conceiving, 
The splendor of the world goes round, 
Day’s Eden-brightness still relieving 
The awful Night’s intense profound : 
The ocean-tides in foam are breaking, 
Against the rocks’ deep bases hurled, 
And both, the spheric race partaking, 
Eternal, swift, are onward whirled! 


a FAUST. 


MICHAEL. 


_ And rival storms abroad are surging 
From sea to land, from land to sea. 
A chain of deepest action forging 
Round all, in wrathful energy. 
There flames a desolation, blazing 
Before the Thunder’s crashing way: 
Yet, Lord, Thy messengers are praising 
The gentle movement of Thy Day. 


THE THREE. 


Though still by them uncomprehended, 
From these the angels draw their power, 
And all Thy works, sublime and splendid, 
Are bright as in Creation’s hour.» 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Since Thou, O Lord, deign’st to approach again 

And ask us how we do, in manner kindest, 

And heretofore to meet myself wert fain, 

Among Thy menials, now, my face Thou findest. 

Pardon, this troop I cannot follow after '° 

With lofty speech, though by them scorned and spurned 

My pathos certainly would move Thy laughter, 

If Thou hadst not all merriment unlearned. 

Of suns and worlds I ’ve nothing to be quoted ; 

How men torment themselves, is all I ’ve noted. 

The little god o’ the world sticks to the same old wav, 

And is as whimsical as on Creation’s day. 

Life somewhat better might content him, 

But for the gleam of heavenly light which Thou has¢ 
lent him: 

He calls it Reason — thence his power’s increased, 

To be far beastlier than any beast. 

Saving Thy Gracious Presence, he to me 








PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. 4 


A long-legged grasshopper appears to be, 

That springing flies, and flying springs, 

And in the grass the same old ditty sings. 
Would he still lay among the grass he grows in! 
Each bit of dung he seeks, to stick his nose in. 


THE LORD. 
Hast thou, then, nothing more to mention ? 
Com’st ever, thus, with ill intention? 
Find’st nothing right on earth, eternally ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
No, Lord! I find things, there, still bad as they can be. 
Man’s misery even to pity moves my nature ; 
I’ve scarce the heart to plague the wretched creature. 


THE LORD. 
Know’st Faust? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
The Doctor Faust? 


THE LORD. 
My servant, he! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Forsooth! He serves you after strange devices : 
No earthly meat or drink the fool suffices : 

His spirit’s ferment far aspireth ; 

Half conscious of his frenzied, crazed unrest, 
The fairest stars from Heaven he requireth, 
From Earth the highest raptures and the best, 
And all the Near and Far that he desireth 

Fails to subdue the tumult of his breast. 


THE LORD. 


Though still confused his service unto Me, 
I soon shall lead him to a clearer morning. 








14 FAUST. 


Sees not the gardener, even while buds his tree, 
Both flower and fruit the future years adorning ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


What will you bet? There’s still a chance to gain him, 
If unto me full leave you give, 
Gently upon my road to train him! 


THE LORD. 


As long as he on earth shall live, 

So long I make no prohibition. 

While Man’s desires and aspirations stir, 
He cannot choose but err."! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


My thanks! I find the dead no acquisition, 

And never cared to have them in my keeping. 

I much prefer the cheeks where ruddy blood is leaping, 
And when a corpse approaches, close my house: 

It goes with me, as with the cat the mouse. 


THE LORD. 


Enough! What thou hast asked is granted. 
Turn off this spirit from his fountain-head ; 

To trap him, let thy snares be planted, 

And him, with thee, be downward led; 

Then stand abashed, when thou art forced to say: 
A good man, through obscurest aspiration, 

Has still an instinct of the one true way." 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Agreed! But ’t is a short probation. 

About my bet I feel no trzpidation. 

If I fulfil my expectation, 

You ’ll let me triumph with a swelling breast: 





PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. 15 


Dust shall he eat, and with a zest, 
As did a certain snake, my near relation. 


THE LORD. 


Therein thou ’rt free, according to thy merits ; 
The like of thee have never moved My hate. 

Of all the bold, denying Spirits, 

The waggish knave least trouble doth create. 
Man’s active nature, flagging, seeks too soon the level; 
Unqualified repose he learns to crave; 

Whence, willingly, the comrade him I gave, 
Who works, excites, and must create, as Devil. 
But ye, God’s sons in love and duty,'3 

Enjoy the rich, the ever-living Beauty ! 

Creative Power, that works eternal schemes, 
Clasp you in bonds of love, relaxing never, 

And what in wavering apparition gleams 

Fix in its place with thoughts that stand forever ! 


(Heaven closes: the ARCHANGELS separate.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES (so/us). 


I like, at times, to hear The Ancient’s word, 
And have a care to be most civil: 

It ’s really kind of such a noble Lord 

So humanly to gossip with the Devil! 








FIRST PART OF THE TRAGEDY. 


I. 


NIGHT. 


\4 lofty-arched, narrow, Gothic chamber. FAUST, in a 
chair at his desk, restless.) 


FAUST.* 


I 'VE studied now Philosophy 
And Jurisprudence, Medicine, — 
And even, alas! Theology, — 
From end to end, with labor keen; 
And here, poor fool! with all my lore 
I stand, no wiser than before: 
I ’m Magister — yea, Doctor — hight, 
And straight or cross-wise, wrong or right, 
These ten years long, with many woes, 
I ’ve led my scholars by the nose, — 
And see, that nothing can be known! 
That knowledge cuts me to the bone. 
I’m cleverer, true, than those fops of teachers, 
Doctors and Magisters, Scribes and Preachers ; 
Neither scruples nor doubts come now to smite me, 
Nor Hell nor Devil can longer affright me. 
For this, all pleasure am I foregoing ; 
I do not pretend to aught worth knowing, 





18 FAUST, 


I do not pretend I could be a teacher 
To help or convert a fellow-creature. 
Then, too, I ’ve neither lands nor gold, 
Nor the world’s least pomp or honor hold — 
No dog would endure such a curst existence! 
Wherefore, from Magic I seek assistance, 

' That many a secret perchance I reach 
Through spirit-power and spirit-speech, 
And thus the bitter task forego 
Of saying the things I do not know, — 
That I may detect the inmost force 
Which binds the world, and guides its course; 
Its germs, productive powers explore, 
And rummage in empty words no more! 


_O full and splendid Moon, whom I 
Have, from this desk, seen climb the sky 
So many a midnight, — would thy glow 
For the last time beheld my woe! 
Ever thine eye, most mournful friend, 
O’er books and papers saw me bend; 
But would that I, on mountains grand, 
Amid thy blessed light could stand, 
With spirits through mountain-caverns hover, 
Float in thy twilight the meadows over, 
And, freed from the fumes of lore that swathe me, 
To health in thy dewy fountains bathe me! 


Ah, me! this dungeon still I see, 

This drear, accursed masonry, 

Where even the welcome daylight strains 
But duskly through the painted panes. 
Hemmed in by many a toppling heap 

Of books worm-eaten, gray with dust, 
Which to the vaulted ceiling creep, 


SCENE I. 19 


Against the smoky paper thrust, — 
With glasses, boxes, round me stacked, 
And instruments together hurled, 
Ancestral lumber, stuffed and packed — 
Such is my world: and what a world! 


And do I ask, wherefore my heart 
Falters, oppressed with unknown needs? 
Why some inexplicable smart 

All movement of my life impedes ? 

Alas! in living Nature’s stead, 

Where God His human creature set, 

In smoke and mould the fleshless dead 
And bones of beasts surround me yet! 


Fly! Up, and seek the broad, free land! *s 
And this one Book of Mystery 

From Nostradamus’ very hand,"* 

Is ’t not sufficient company ? 

When I the starry courses know, 

And Nature’s wise instruction seek, 
With light of power my soul shall glow, 
As when to spirits spirits speak. 

’T is vain, this empty brooding here, 
Though guessed the holy symbols be: 
Ye, Spirits, come — ye hover near — 
Oh, if you hear me, answer me! 


fle opens the Book, and perceives the sign of the Macvrocosm. yn 


Ha! what a sudden rapture leaps from this 

I view, through all my senses swiftly flowing ! 
i feel a youthful, holy, vital bliss 

{n every vein and fibre newly glowing. 

Was it a God, who traced this sign, 

With calm across my tumult stealing, 





20 FAUST. 


My troubled heart to joy unsealing, 

With impulse, mystic and divine, 

The powers of Nature here, around my path, revealing? 
Am I a God?— so clear mine eyes! 

In these pure features I behold 

Creative Nature to my soul unfold. 

What says the sage, now first I recognize: 
“‘ The spirit-world no closures fasten; 

Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead: 
Disciple, up! untiring, hasten 

To bathe thy breast in morning-red!” 


(He contemplates the sign.) 


How each the Whole its substance gives, 

Each in the other works and lives! 

Like heavenly forces rising and descending, 

Their golden urns reciprocally lending, 

With wings that winnow blessing 

From Heaven through Earth I see them pressing, 
Filling the All with harmony unceasing! 

How grand a show! but, ah! a show alone. 

Thee, boundless Nature, how make thee my own? 
Where you, ye breasts? Founts of all Being, shining, 
Whereon hang Heaven’s and Earth’s desire, 
Whereto our withered hearts aspire, — 

Ye flow, ye feed: and am I vainly pining? 


(He turns the leaves impatiently, and perceives the sign of the 
Earth-Spirit.)*® 

How otherwise upon me works this sign! 

Thou, Spirit of the Earth, art nearer: 

Even now my powers are loftier, clearer; 

I glow, as drunk with new-made wine: 

New strength and heart to meet the world incite me, 

The woe of earth, the bliss of earth, invite me, 


SCENE I. 21 


And though the shock of storms may smite me, 

No crash of shipwreck shall have power to fright me! 
Clouds gather over me — 

The moon conceals her light — 

The lamp ’s extinguished ! — 

Mists rise, — red, angry rays are darting 

Around my head ! — There falls 

A horror from the vaulted roof, 

And seizes me! 

I feel thy presence, Spirit I invoke! 

Reveal thyself ! 

Ha! in my heart what rending stroke! 

With new impulsion 

My senses heave in this convulsion ! 

I feel thee draw my heart, absorb, exhaust me: 

Thou must! thou must! and though my life it cost me! 


(He seizes the book, and mysteriously pronounces the sign of the 
Spirit. A ruddy flame flashes: the Spirit appears in the 
flame.) 


Who calls me? 


SPIRIT. 


FAUST (with averted head). 
Terrible to see! 


SPIRIT. 


Me hast thou long with might attracted, 
Long from my sphere thy food exacted, 


And now — 
FAUST. 


Woe! I endure not thee! 


SPIRIT. 
To view me is thine aspiration, 
My voice to hear, my countenance to see; 


22 FAUST. 


Thy powerful yearning moveth me, 

Here am I !— what mean perturbation 

Thee, superhuman, shakes? Thy soul’s high calling, 
where? 

Where is the breast, which from itself a world did bear, 

And shaped and cherished — which with joy expanded, 

To be our peer, with us, the Spirits, banded ? 

Where art thou, Faust, whose voice has pierced to me, 

Who towards me pressed with all thine energy? 

He art thou, who, my presence breathing, seeing, 

Trembles through all the depths of being, 

A writhing worm, a terror-stricken form ? 


FAUST. 


Thee, form of flame, shall I then fear? 
Yes, I am Faust: I am thy peer! 


SPIRIT. 


In the tides of Life, in Action’s storm,» 

A fluctuant wave, 

A shuttle free, 

Birth and the Grave, 

An eternal sea, 

A weaving, flowing 

Life, all-glowing, 
Thus at Time’s humming loom ’t is my hand prepares 
The garment of Life which the Deity wears ! 


FAUST. 


Thou, who around the wide world wendest, 
Thou busy Spirit, how near I feel to thee! 


SPIRIT. 


Thou ’rt like the Spirit which thou comprehendest, 


Not me! 
( Disappears.) 


SCENE J. 23 


PAUST (overwhelmed). 
Not thee! 


Whom thcn? 
I, image of the Godhead! 
Not even like thee! 

(A knock.) 


O Death! — I know it —’t is my Famulus! 
My fairest luck finds no fruition: 

In all the fulness of my vision 

The soulless sneak disturbs me thus! 


{Znter WAGNER, in dressing-gown and night-cap,a lamp im 
his hand. Faust turns impatiently.) 


WAGNER.” 


Pardon, I heard your declamation ; 

”T was sure an old Greek tragedy you read? 
In such an art I crave some preparation, 
Since now it stands one in good stead. 

I’ve often heard it said, a preacher 

Might learn, with a comedian for a teacher. 


FAUST. 


Yes, when the priest comedian is by nature, 
As haply now and then the case may be. 


WAGNER. 


Ah, when one studies thus, a prisoned creature, 
That scarce the world on holidays can see, — 
Scarce through a glass, by rare occasion, 

How shall one lead it by persuasion? 


FAUST. 
You ‘ll ne’er attain it, save you know the feeling, 
Save from the soul it rises clear, 
Serene in primal strength, compelling 


24 FA OST. 


The hearts and minds of all who hear. 

You sit forever gluing, patching ; 

You cook the scraps from others’ fare ; 

And from your heap of ashes hatching 

A starveling flame, ye blow it bare! 

Take children’s, monkeys’ gaze admiring, 

If such your taste, and be content; 

But ne’er from heart to heart you ’ll speak inspiring, 
Save your own heart is eloquent! 


WAGNER. 


Yet through delivery orators succeed ; 
I feel that I am far behind, indeed. 


FAUST. 


Seek thou the honest recompense! 

Beware, a tinkling fool to be! 

With little art, clear wit and sense 

Suggest their own delivery ; 

And if thou ’rt moved to speak in earnest, 

What need, that after words thou yearnest? 

Yes, your discourses, with their glittering show, 
Where ye for men twist shredded thought like paper, 
Are unrefreshing as the winds that blow 

The rustling leaves through chill autumnal vapor! 


WAGNER. 


Ah, God! but Art is long, 

And Life, alas! is fleeting. 

And oft, with zeal my critic-duties meeting, 
In head and breast there ’s something wrong. 
How hard it is to compass the assistance 
Whereby one rises to the source! 

And, haply, ere one travels half the course 
Must the poor devil quit existence. 


SCENE J. 25 


FAUST. 


Is parchment, then, the holy fount before thee, 

A draught wherefrom thy thirst forever slakes ? 

No true refreshment can restore thee, 

Save what from thine own soul spontaneous breaks. 


WAGNER. 


Pardon! a great delight is granted 

When, in the spirit of the ages planted, 

We mark how, ere our time, a sage has thought, 

And then, how far his work, and grandly, we have 
brought. 


FAUST. 


O yes, up to the stars at last! 

Listen, my friend: the ages that are past 
Are now a book with seven seals protected : 
What you the Spirit of the Ages call 

Is nothing but the spirit of you all, 
Wherein the Ages are reflected. 

So, oftentimes, you miserably mar it! - 

At the first glance who sees it runs away. 
An offal-barrel and a lumber-garret, 

Or, at the best, a Punch-and-Judy play, 
With maxims most pragmatical and hitting, 
As in the mouths of puppets are befitting! 


WAGNER. 


But then, the world — the human heart and brain! 
Of these one covets some slight apprehension. 


FAUST. 


Yes, of the kind which men attain! 

Who dares the child’s true name in public mention ? 

The few, who thereof something really learned, 
VOL. I. 2 


6 FAUST. 


Unwisely frank, with hearts that spurned concealing, 
And to the mob laid bare each thought and feeling, 
Have evermore been crucified and burned.*5 

I pray you, Friend, ’t is now the dead of night; 

Our converse here must be suspended. 


WAGNER. 


I would have shared your watches with delight, 

That so our learned talk might be extended.* 

To-morrow, though, Ill ask, in Easter leisure, 

This and the other question, at your pleasure. 

Most zealously I seek for erudition : 

Much do I know — but to know all is my ambition. 

[2 rsh 

FAUST (solus). 

That brain, alone, not loses hope, whose choice is 

To stick in shallow trash forevermore, — 

Which digs with eager hand for buried ore, 

And, when it finds an angle-worm, rejoices! 


Dare such a human voice disturb the flow, 
Around me here, of spirit-presence fullest ? 

And yet, this once my thanks I owe 

To thee, of all earth’s sons the poorest, dullest! 
For thou hast torn me from that desperate state 
Which threatened soon to overwhelm my senses: 
The apparition was so giant-great, 

It dwarfed and withered all my soul’s pretences! 


I, image of the Godhead, who began — 

Deeming Eternal Truth secure in nearness — 

To sun myself in heavenly light and clearness, 
And laid aside the earthly man;— 

], more than Cherub, whose free force had planned 
To flow through Nature’s veins in glad pulsation, 


SCENE 1. 27 


To reach beyond, enjoying in creation 
The life of Gods, behold my expiation! 
A thunder-word hath swept me from my stand.77 


With thee I dare not venture to compare me. 
Though I possessed the power to draw thee near me, 
The power to keep thee was denied my hand. 
When that ecstatic moment held me, 

I felt myself so small,.so great; 

But thou hast ruthlessly repelled me 

Back upon Man’s uncertain fate. 

What shall I shun? Whose guidance borrow? 
Shall I accept that stress and strife ? 

Ah! every deed of ours, no less than every sorrow, 
Impedes the onward march of life. 


Some alien substance more and more is cleaving 

To all the mind conceives of grand and fair ; 

When this world’s Good is won by our achieving, 

The Better, then, is named a cheat and snare. 

The fine emotions, whence our lives we mould, 

Lie in the earthly tumult dumb and cold. 

If hopeful Fancy once, in daring flight, 

Her longings to the Infinite expanded, 

Yet now a narrow space contents her quite, 

Since Time’s wild wave so many a fortune stranded. 

Care at the bottom of the heart is lurking: 

Her secret pangs in silence working, 

She, restless, rocks herself, disturbing joy and rest : 

In newer masks her face is ever drest, 

By turns as house and land, as wife and child, pre 
sented, — 

As water, fire, as poison, steel : 

We dread the blows we never feel, 

Aud what we never lose is yet by us lamented ! 











28 FAUST. 


1 am not like the Gods! That truth is felt too deep: 
The worm am I, that in the dust doth creep, —- 
That, while in dust it lives and seeks its bread, 
Is crushed and buried by the wanderer’s tread. 


Is not this dust, these walls within them hold, 

The hundred shelves, which cramp and chain me, 

The frippery, the trinkets thousand-fold, 

That in this mothy den restrain me? 

Here shall I find the help I need? 

Shall here a thousand volumes teach me only 

That men, self-tortured, everywhere must bleed, — 

And here and there one happy man sits lonely ?* 

What mean’st thou by that grin, thou hollow skull, 

Save that thy brain, like mine, a cloudy mirror, 

Sought once the shining day, and then, in twilight dull, 

Thirsting for Truth, went wretchedly to Error? 

Ye instruments, forsooth, but jeer at me 

With wheel and cog, and shapes uncouth of wonder ; 

I found the portal, you the keys should be; 

Your wards are deftly wrought, but drive no bolts 
asunder ! 

Mysterious even in open day, 

Nature retains her veil, despite our clamors: 

That which she doth not willingly display 

Cannot be wrenched from her with levers, screws, and 
hammers. 

Ye ancient tools, whose use I never knew, 

Here, since my father used ye, still ye moulder: 

Thou, ancient scroll, hast worn thy smoky hue 

Since at this desk the dim lamp wont to smoulder. 

’T were better far, had I my little idly spent, 

Than now to sweat beneath its burden, I confess it! 

What from your fathers’ heritage is lent, 

Earn it anew, to really possess it!» 


SCENE I. 29 


What serves not, is a sore impediment : 
The Moment’s need creates the thing to serve and bless 
it! 


Yet, wherefore turns my gaze to yonder point so lightly ? 
Is yonder flask a magnet for mine eyes ? 

Whence, all around me, glows the air so brightly, 

As when in woods at night the mellow moonbeam lies? 


I hail thee, wondrous, rarest vial! 

I take thee down devoutly, for the trial: 
Man’s art and wit I venerate in thee. 

Thou summary of gentle slumber-juices, 
Essence of deadly finest powers and uses, 
Unto thy master show thy favor free! 

I see thee, and the stings of pain diminish ; 
I grasp thee, and my struggles slowly finish: 
My spirit’s flood-tide ebbeth more and more. 
Out on the cpen ocean speeds my dreaming ; 
The glassy flood before my feet is gleaming, 
A new day beckons to a newer shore! 


A fiery chariot, borne on buoyant pinions, 

Sweeps near me now! I soon shall ready be 

To pierce the ether’s high, unknown dominions, 

To reach new spheres of pure activity ! 

This godlike rapture, this supreme existence, 

Do I, but now a worm, deserve to track? 

Yes, resolute to reach some brighter distance, 

On Earth’s fair sun | turn my back !3* 

Yes, let me dare those gates to fling asunder, 

Which every man would fain go slinking by! 

’T is time, through deeds this word of truth to thunder: 
That with the height of Gods Man’s dignity may vie! 
Nor from that gloomy gulf to shrink affrighted, 


30 FAUST. 


Where Fancy doth herself to self-born pangs compel, — 

To struggle toward that pass benighted, 

Around whose narrow mouth flame all the fires o: 
Hell, — 

To take this step with cheerful resolution, 

Though Nothingness should be the certain, swift con- 
clusion ! 


And now come down, thou cup of crystal clearest! 
Fresh from thine ancient cover thou appearest, 
So many years forgotten to my thought ! 
Thou shon’st at old ancestral banquets cheery, 
The solemn guests thou madest merry, 
When one thy wassail to the other brought. 
The rich and skilful figures o’er thee wrought, 
The drinker’s duty, rhyme-wise to explain them, 
Or in one breath below the mark to drain them, 
From many a night of youth my memory caught. 
Now to a neighbor shall I pass thee never, 
Nor on thy curious art to test my wit endeavor: 
Here is a juice whence sleep is swiftly born. 
It fills with browner flood thy crystal hollow ; 
I chose, prepared it: thus I follow, — 
With all my soul the final drink I swallow, 
A solemn festal cup, a greeting to the morn! 

(He sets the goblet to his mouth, 


(Chime of bells and choral song.) 


CHORUS OF ANGELS.* 
Christ is arisen! 

Joy to the Mortal One, 
Whom the unmerited, 
Clinging, inherited 
Needs did imprison. 


SCENE I. 31 


FAUST. 


What hollow humming, what a sharp, clear stroke, 

Drives from my lip the goblet’s, at their meeting ? 

Announce the booming bells already woke 

The first glad hour of Easter’s festal greeting? 

Ye choirs, have ye begun the sweet, consoling chant, 

Which, through the night of Death, the angels minis- 
trant 

Sang, God’s new Covenant repeating ? 


CHORUS OF WOMEN. 


With spices and precious 
Balm, we arrayed him; 
Faithful and gracious, 

We tenderly laid him: 

Linen to bind him 

Cleanlily wound we: 

Ah! when we would find him, 
Christ no more found we! 


CHORUS OF ANGELS. 


Christ is ascended ! 

Bliss hath invested him, — 
Woes that molested him, 
Trials that tested him, 
Gloriously ended! 


FAUST. 
Why, here in dust, entice me with your spell, 
Ye gentle, powerful sounds of Heaven? 
Peal rather there, where tender natures dwell. 
Your messages I hear, but faith has not been given; 
The dearest child of Faith is Miracle. 
I venture not to soar to yonder regions 
Whence the glad tidings hither float ; 


32 FAUST. 


And yet, from childhood up familiar with the note, 

To Life it now renews the old allegiance. 

Once Heavenly Love sent down a burning kiss 

Upon my brow, in Sabbath silence holy ; 

And, filled with mystic presage, chimed the church-bell 
slowly, 

And prayer dissolved me in a fervent bliss.3 

A sweet, uncomprehended yearning 

Drove forth my feet through woods and meadows free, 

And while a thousand tears were burning, 

I felt a world arise for me. 

These chants, to youth and all its sports appealing, 

Proclaimed the Spring’s rejoicing holiday ; 

And Memory holds me now, with childish feeling, 

Back from the last, the solemn way. 

Sound on, ye hymns of Heaven, so sweet and miid! 

My tears gush forth: the Earth takes back her child! 


CHORUS OF DISCIPLES. 


Has He, victoriously, 
Burst from the vaulted 
Grave, and all-gioriously 
Now sits exalted ? 

Is He, in glow of birth, 
Rapture creative near ? ¥ 
Ah! to the woe of earth 
Still are we native here. 
We, his aspiring 
Followers, Him we miss ; 
Weeping, desiring, 
Master, Thy bliss! 


CHORUS OF ANGELS. 


Christ is arisen, 
Out of Corruption’s womb: 





SCENE 1. 


Burst ye the prison, 

Break from your gloom ! 
Praising and picading him, 
Lovingly needing him, 
Brotherly feeding him, 
Preaching and speeding him, 
Blessing, succeeding Him, 
Thus is the Master near, — 
Thus is He here! 


34 FAUST. 


II. 
BEFORE THE CITY-GATE.ss 


(Pedestrians of all kinds come forth.) 


SEVERAL APPRENTICES. 
W HY do you go that way? 


OTHERS. 
We're for the Hunters’-lodge, to-day. 


THE FIRST. 
We'll saunter to the Mill, in yonder hollow. 


AN APPRENTICE. 
Go to the River Tavern, I should say. 


SECOND APPRENTICE. 
But then, it’s not a pleasant way. 


THE OTHERS. 
And what will you ? 


A THIRD. 
As goes the crowd, I follow. 


A FOURTH. 
Come up to Burgdorf ? There you'll find good cheer, 
The finest lasses and the best of beer, 
And jolly rows and squabbles, trust me! 


I 


SCENE JI. 35 


A FIFTH. 


You swaggering fellow, is your hide 
A third time itching to be tried ? 
I won’t go there, your jolly rows disgust me ! 


SERVANT-GIRL. 
No,—no! I’ll turn and go to town again. 


ANOTHER. 
We'll surely find him by those poplars yonder. 


THE FIRST. 
That ’s no great luck for me, ’t is plain. 
You ’ll have him, when and where you wander: 
His partner in the dance you ’ll be, — 
But what is all your fun to me ? 


THE OTHER. 


He’s surely not alone to-day: 
He ’ll be with Curly-head, I heard him say. 


A STUDENT. 
Deuce ! how they step, the buxom wenches ! 
Come, Brother! we must see them to the benches. 
A strong, old beer, a pipe that stings and bites, 
A girl in Sunday clothes, — these three are my delights 


CITIZEN’S DAUGHTER. 


Just see those handsome fellows, there ! 
It’s really shameful, I declare ; — 

To follow servant-girls, when they 

Might have the most genteel society to-day! 


SECOND STUDENT (fo the First). 


Not quite so fast! Two others come behind, — 
Those, dressed so prettily and neatly. 


36 FAUST. 


My neighbor ’s one of them, I find, 

A girl that takes my heart, completety. 
They go their way with looks demure, 
But they ’ll accept us, after all, I’m sure. 


THE FIRST. 


No, Brother! not for me their formal ways. 
Quick! lest our game escape us in the press: 
The hand that wields the broom on Saturdays 
Will best, on Sundays, fondle and caress. 


CITIZEN. 


He suits me not at all, our new-made Burgomaster ! 
Since he’s installed, his arrogance grows faster. 
How has he helped the town, I say? 

Things worsen, — what improvement names he? 
Obedience, more than ever, claims he, 

And more than ever we must pay ! 


BEGGAR (sings). 
Good gentlemen and lovely ladies, 
So red of cheek and fine of dress, 
Behold, how needful here your aid is, 
And see and lighten my distress ! 
Let me not vainly sing my ditty ; 
He’s only glad who gives away : 
A holiday, that shows your pity, 
Shall be for me a harvest-day ! 


ANOTHER CITIZEN. e 


On Sundays, holidays, there ’s naught I take delight in, 
Like gossiping of war, and war’s array, 

When down in Turkey, far away, 

The foreign people are a-fighting. 

One at the window sits, with glass and friends, 


SCENE II. 37 


And sees all sorts of ships go down the river gliding: 
And blesses then, as home he wends 
At night, our times of peace abiding. 


THIRD CITIZEN. 
Yes, Neighbor! that’s my notion, too: 
Why, let them break their heads, let loose their passions, 
And mix things madly through and through, 
So, here, we keep our good old fashions ! 


OLD WOMAN (fo the Citizen's Daughter). 
Dear me, how fine! So handsome, and so young! 
Who would n’t lose his heart, that met you? 
Don’t be so proud! 1 ll hold my tongue, 
And what you ’d like I ’ll undertake to get you. 


CITIZEN’S DAUGHTER. 


Come, Agatha! I shun the witch’s sight 

Before folks, lest there be misgiving : 

’T is true, she showed me, on Saint Andrew’s Night, 
My future sweetheart, just as he were living. 


THE OTHER. 


She showed me mine, in crystal clear,” 

With several wild young blades, a soldier-lover : 
I seek him everywhere, I pry and peer, 

And yet, somehow, his face I can’t discover. 


SOLDIERS. 


Castles, with lofty 
Ramparts and towers, 
Maidens disdainful 
In Beauty’s array, 
Both shall be ours! 
Bold is the venture, 
Splendid the pay! 


38 FAUST. 


Lads, let the trumpets 
For us be suing, — 
Calling to pleasure, 
Calling to ruin. 
Stormy our life is ; 
Such is its boon! 
Maidens and castles 
Capitulate soon. 

Bold is the venture, 
Splendid the pay! 
And the soldiers go marching, 
Marching away! 


FAUST AND WAGNER. 


FAUST. 


Released from ice are brook and river #* 

By the quickening glance of the gracious Spring; 
The colors of hope to the valley cling, 

And weak old Winter himself must shiver. 
Withdrawn to the mountains, a crownless king: 
Whence, ever retreating, he sends again 
Impotent showers of sleet that darkle 

In belts across the green o’ the plain. 

But the sun will permit no white to sparkle; 
Everywhere form in development moveth : 

He will brighten the world with the tints he loveth, 
And, lacking blossoms, blue, yellow, and red, 

He takes these gaudy people instead. 

Turn thee about, and from this height 

Back on the town direct thy sight. 

Out of the hollow, gloomy gate, 

The motley throngs come forth elate: 

Each will the joy of the sunshine hoard, 

To honor the Day of the Risen Lord! 





SCENE I. 39 


They feel, themselves, their resurrection : 
From the low, dark rooms, scarce habitable ; 
From the bonds of Work, from Trade’s restriction; 
From the pressing weight of roof and gable ; 
From the narrow, crushing streets and alleys ; 
From the churches’ solemn and reverend night, 
All come forth to the cheerful light. 

How lively, see! the multitude sallies, 
Scattering through gardens and fields remote, 
While over the river, that broadly dallies, 
Dances so many a festive boat; 
*And overladen, nigh to sinking, 

The last full wherry takes the stream. 

Yonder afar, from the hill-paths blinking, 
Their clothes are colors that softly gleam. 

I hear the noise of the village, even; 

Here is the People’s proper Heaven; 

Here high and low contented see ! 

Here I am Man, — dare man to be! 


WAGNER. 


To stroll with you, Sir Doctor, flatters ; 

'T is honor, profit, unto me. 

But I, alone, would shun these shallow matters. 
Since all that ’s coarse provokes my enmity. 

This fiddling, shouting, ten-pin rolling 

I hate, — these noises of the throng: 

They rave, as Satan were their sports controlling, 
And call it mirth, and call it song! 


PEASANTS, UNDER THE LINDEN-TREE. 
(Dance and Song.) 
All for the dance the shepherd dressed,» 
In ribbons, wreath, and gayest vest 
Himself with care arraying: 


40 


FAUST. 


Around the linden lass and lad 
Already footed it like mad: 
Hurrah! hurrah! 
Hurrah — tarara-la ! 
The fiddle-bow was playing. 


He broke the ranks, no whit afraid, 
And with his elbow punched a maid, 
Who stood, the dance surveying: 
The buxom wench, she turned and said: 
‘“‘ Now, you I call a stupid-head!” 
Hurrah! hurrah! 
Hurrah — tarara-la ! 
“ Be decent while you ’re staying!” 


Then round the circle went their flight, 
They danced to left, they danced to right : 
Their kirtles all were playing. 
They first grew red, and then grew warm, 
And rested, panting, arm in arm, — 
Hurrah! hurrah! 
Hurrah — tarara-la! 
And hips and elbows straying. 


Now, don’t be so familiar here! 
How many a one has fooled his dear, 
Waylaying and betraying! 
And yet, he coaxed her soon aside, 
And round the linden sounded wide: 
Hurrah! hurrah! 
Hurrah — tarara-la! 
And the fiddle-bow was playing. 


OLD PEASANT. 
Sir Doctor, it is good of you,” 
That thus you condescend, to-day, 


SCENE I. 41 


Among this crowd of merry folk, 

A highly-learned man, to stray. 

Then also take the finest can, 

We fill with fresh wine, for your sake: 
I offer it, and humbly wish 

That not alone your thirst it slake, — 
That, as the drops below its brink, 

So many days of life you drink! 


FAUST. 


I take the cup you kindly reach, 
With thanks and health to all and each. 


(Zhe People gather in a circle about him.) 


OLD PEASANT. 


In truth, ’t is well and fitly timed, 
That now our day of joy you share, 
Who heretofore, in evil days, 

Gave us so much of helping care. 
Still many a man stands living here, 
Saved by your father’s skilful hand, 
That snatched him from the fever’s rage 
And stayed the plague in all the land. 
Then also you, though but a youth,# 
Went into every house of pain: 
Many the corpses carried forth, 

But you in health came out again. 

No test or trial you evaded : 

A Helping God the helper aided. 


ALL. 


Health to the man, so skilled and tried, 
That for our help he long may bide! 


42 FAUST. 


FAUST. 


To Him above bow down, my friends, 
Who teaches help, and succor sends! 


(He goes on with WAGNER.) 


WAGNER. 


With what a feeling, thou great man, must thou 
Receive the people’s honest veneration! 

How lucky he, whose gifts his station 

With such advantages endow! 

Thou ’rt shown to all the younger generation : 
Fach asks, and presses near to gaze ; 

The fiddie stops, the dance delays. 

Thou goest, they stand in rows to see, 

And all the caps are lifted high ; 

A little more, and they would bend the knee 
As if the Holy Host came by. 


FAUST. 


A few more steps ascend, as far as yonder stone! — 

Here from our wandering will we rest contented. 

Here, lost in thought, I ’ve lingered oft alone, 

When foolish fasts and prayers my life tormented. 

Here, rich in hope and firm in faith, 

With tears, wrung hands and sighs, I ’ve striven, 

The end of that far-spreading death 

Entreating from the Lord of Heaven! 

Now like contempt the crowd’s applauses seem: 

Couldst thou but read, within mine inmost spirit, 

How little now I deem 

That sire or son such praises merit! 

My father’s was a sombre, brooding brain, 

Which through the holy spheres of Nature groped and 
wandered, 








SCENE II. 43 


And honestly, in his own fashion, pondered 

With Jabor whimsical, and pain: 

Who, in his dusky work-shop bending, 

With proved adepts in company, 

Made, from his recipes unending, 

Opposing substances agree. 

There was a Lion red, a wooer daring,” 

Within the Lily’s tepid bath espoused, 

And both, tormented then by flame unsparing, 

By turns in either bridal chamber housed. 

If then appeared, with colors splendid, 

The young Queen in her crystal shell, 

This was the medicine — the patients’ woes soon ended, 
And none demanded: who got well ? 

Thus we, our hellish boluses compounding, 

Among these vales and hills surrounding, 

Worse than the pestilence, have passed. 

Thousands were done to death from poison of my giving; 
And I must hear, by all the living, 

The shameless murderers praised at last! 


WAGNER. 


Why, therefore, yield to such depression ? 

A good man does his honest share 

In exercising, with the strictest care, 

The art bequeathed to his possession! 

Dost thou thy father honor, as a youth? 

Then may his teaching cheerfully impel thee : 
Dost thou, as man, increase the stores of truth ? 
Then may thine own son afterwards excel thee. 


FAUST. 


O happy he, who still renews 
The hope, from Error’s deeps to rise forever ! 
That which one does not know, one needs to use ; 





44 FAUST. 


And what one knows, one uses never. 

But let us not, by such despondence, so 

The fortune of this hour embitter ! 

Mark how, beneath the evening sunlight’s glow, 

The green-embosomed houses glitter! 

The glow retreats, done is the day of toil, 

It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring ; 

Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil, 

Upon its track to follow, follow soaring ! 

Then would I see eternal Evening gild 

The silent world beneath me glowing, 

On fire each mountain-peak, with peace each valley 
filled, 

The silver brook to golden rivers flowing. 

The mountain-chain, with all its gorges deep, 

Would then no more impede my godlike motion ; 

And now before mine eyes expands the ocean 

With all its bays, in shining sleep! 

Yet, finally, the weary god is sinking ; 

The new-born impulse fires my mind, — 

I hasten on, his beams eternal drinking, 

The Day before me and the Night behind, 

Above me heaven unfurled, the floor of waves beneath 
me, — 

A glorious dream! though now the glories fade. 

Alas ! the wings that lift the mind no aid 

Of wings to lift the body can bequeath me. 

Yet in each soul is born the pleasure 

Of yearning onward, upward and away, 

When o’er our heads, lost in the vaulted azure, 

The lark sends down his flickering lay, — 

When over crags and piny highlands 

The poising eagle slowly soars, 

And over plains and lakes and islands 

The crane sails by to other shores. 








SCENE I. 45 


WAGNER. 
I've had, myself, at times, some odd caprices, 
But never yet such impulse felt, as this is. 
One soon fatigues, on woods and fields to look, 
Nor would I beg the bird his wing to spare us: 
How otherwise the mental raptures bear us 
From page to page, from book to book! 
Then winter nights take loveliness untold, 
As warmer life in every limb had crowned you ; 
And when your hands unroll some parchment rare and 
old, 
All Heaven descends, and opens bright around you! . 


FAUST. 


One impulse art thou conscious of, at best; 

O, never seek to know the other! 

Two souls, alas! reside within my breast, 

And each withdraws from, and repels, its brother. 
One with tenacious organs holds in love 

And clinging lust the world in its embraces ; 

The other strongly sweeps, this dust above, 

Into the high ancestral spaces. 

If there be airy spirits near, 

’T wixt Heaven and Earth on potent errands fleeing, 
Let them drop down the golden atmosphere, 

And bear me forth to new and varied being! 

Yea, if a magic mantle once were mine, 

To waft me o’er the world at pleasure, 

I would not for the costliest stores of treasure — 
Not for a monarch’s robe — the gift resign. 


WAGNER. 
Invoke not thus the well-known throng, 
Which through the firmament diffused is faring, 
And danger thousand-fold, our race to wrong, 





46 FAUST. 


In every quarter is preparing. 

Swift from the North the spirit-fangs so sharp“ 
Sweep down, and with their barbéd points assail you; 
Then from the East they come, to dry and warp 
Your lungs, till breath and being fail you: 

If from the Desert sendeth them the South, 

With fire on fire your throbbing forehead crowning, 
The West leads on a host, to cure the drouth 

Only when meadow, field, and you are drowning. 
They gladly hearken, prompt for injury, — 

Gladly obey, because they gladly cheat us; 

From Heaven they represent themselves to be, 
And lisp like angels, when with lies they meet us 
But, let us go! ’T is gray and dusky all: 

The air is cold, the vapors fall. 

At night, one learns his house to prize : — 

Why stand you thus, with such astonished eyes? 
What, in the twilight, can your mind so trouble ? 


FAUST. 


Seest thou the black dog coursing there, through corn 
and stubble ?4s 


WAGNER. 
Long since: yet deemed him not important in the least. 


FAUST. 
Inspect him close: for what tak’st thou the beast? 


WAGNER. 


Why, for a poodle who has lost his master, 
And scents about, his track to find. 


FAUST. 


Seest thou the spiral circles, narrowing faster, 
Which he, approaching, round us seems to wind? 


SCENE II. 47 


A streaming trail of fire, if I see rightly, 
Follows his path of mystery. 
WAGNER. 


It may be that your eyes deceive you slightly ; 
Naught but a plain black poodle do I see. 


FAUST. 


It seems to me that with enchanted cunning 
He snares our feet, some future chain to bind. 


WAGNER. 


I see him timidly, in doubt, around us running, 
Since, in his master’s stead, two strangers doth he find 


FAUST. 
The circle narrows: he is near! 


WAGNER. 


A dog thou seest, and not a phantom, here! 
Behold him stop — upon his belly crawl — 
His tail set wagging: canine habits, all! 


FAUST. 
Come, follow us! Come here, at least! 


WAGNER. 
*T is the absurdest, drollest beast. 
Stand still, and you will see him wait; 
Address him, and he gambols straight ; 
If something ’s lost, he’ll quickly bring it, — 
Your cane, if in the stream you fling it. 


FAUST. 


No doubt you’re right: no trace of mind, I own, 
Is in the beast: I see but drill, alone. 





48 


FAUST. 


WAGNER. 
The dog, when he’s well educated, 
Is by the wisest tolerated. 
Yes, he deserves your favor thoroughly, — 
The clever scholar of the students, he! 


( They pass in the city-gate.) 





SCENE Ill. 49 


IIT. 
THE STUDY. 


FAUST. 
(Entering, with the poodle.) 
EHIND me, field and meadow sleeping, 
I leave in deep, prophetic night, 

Within whose dread and holy keeping 
The better soul awakes to light. . 
The wild desires no longer win us, 
The deeds of passion cease to chain; 
The love of Man revives within us, 
The love of God revives again. 


Be still, thou poodle! make not such racket and riot! 
Why at the threshold wilt snuffing be? 

Behind the stove repose thee in quiet! 

My softest cushion I give to thee. 

As thou, up yonder, with running and leaping 
Amused us hast, on the mountain’s crest, 

So now I take thee into my keeping, 

A welcome, but also a silent, guest. 


Ah, when, within our narrow chamber 
The lamp with friendly lustre glows, 
Flames in the breast each faded ember, 
And in the heart, itself that knows. 
Then Hope again lends sweet assistance, 
And Reason then resumes her speech : 
One yearns, the rivers of existence, 
The very founts of Life, to reach. 

VOL. I. 3 D 


50 FAUST. 


Snarl not, poodle! To the sound that rises, 
The sacred tones that my soul embrace, 
This bestial noise is out of place. 

We are used to see, that Man despises 

What he never comprehends, 

And the Good and the Beautiful vilipends, 
Finding them often hard to measure : 

Will the dog, like man, snarl Azs displeasure ? 


But ah! I feel, though will thereto be stronger, 
Contentment flows from out my breast no longer. 
Why must the stream so soon run dry and fail us, 
And burning thirst again assail us ? 

Therein I ’ve borne so much probation! 

And yet, this want may be supplied us ; 

We call the Supernatural to guide us: 

We pine and thirst for Revelation, 

Which nowhere worthier is, more nobly sent, 
Than here, in our New Testament. 

I feel impelled, its meaning to determine, — 
With honest purpose, once for all, 

The hallowed Original 

To change to my beloved German. 


(He opens a volume, and commences.) 


’T is written: “In the Beginning was the Word.” # 
Here am I balked: who, now, can help afford ? 
The Word ? — impossible so high to rate it; 

And otherwise must | translate it, 

If by the Spirit I am truly taught. 

Then thus: “In the Beginning was the 7hought.” 
This first line let me weigh completely, 

Lest my impatient pen proceed too fleetly. 

Is it the 7hoxght which works, creates, indeed ? 
“In the Beginning was the Power,” I read. 








SCENE. III. 51 


Yet, as 1 write, a warning is suggested, 
That I the sense may not have fairly tested. 
The Spirit aids me: now I see the light! 
“In the Beginning was the Acé,” I write. 


If I must share my chamber with thee, 
Poodle, stop that howling, prithee! 
Cease to bark and bellow! 

Such a noisy, disturbing fellow 

I'll no longer suffer near me. 

One of us, dost hear me! 

Must leave, I fear me. 

No longer guest-right I bestow ; 

The door is open, art free to go. 

But what do I see in the creature? 
Is that in the course of nature ? 

Is’t actual fact? or Fancy’s shows? 
How long and broad my poodle grows! 
He rises mightily : 

A canine form that cannot be! 

What a spectre I ’ve harbored thus ! 
He resembles a hippopotamus, 

With fiery eyes, teeth terrible to see: 
O, now am I sure of thee! 

For all of thy half-hellish brood 

The Key of Solomon is good.¥ 


SPIRITS (i the corridor). 
Some one, within, is caught ! 
Stay without, follow him not! 
Like the fox in a snare, 
Quakes the old hel-lynx there. 
Take heed — look about! 
Back and forth hover, 

Under and over, 


52 


FA OST. 


And he’!l work himself out. 
If your aid can avail him, 

Let it not fail him ; 

For he, without measure, 

Has wrought for our pleasure. 


FAUST. 


First, to encounter the beast, 
The Words of the Four be addressed: # 
Salamander, shine glorious ! 
Wave, Undine, as bidden! 
Sylph, be thou hidden ! 
Gnome, be laborious! 


Who knows not their sense 
(These elements), — 

Their properties 

And power not sees, — 

No mastery he inherits 
Over the Spirits. 


Vanish in flaming ether, 
Salamander! 

Flow foamingly together, 
Undine! 

Shine in meteor-sheen, 

Sylph! 

Bring help to hearth and shelf, 
Incubus! Incubus! 

Step forward, and finish thus ‘ 


Of the Four, no feature 

Lurks in the creature. 

Quiet he lies, and grins disdain : 

Not yet, it seems, have I given him pain. 


SCENE Il. 53 


Now, to undisguise thee, 
Hear me exorcise thee! 
Art thou, my gay one, 
Hell’s fugitive stray-one ? 
The sign witness now, 
Before which they bow, 
The cohorts of Hell! 


With hair all bristling, it begins to swell. 


Base Being, hearest thou ? 
Knowest and fearest thou 

The One, unoriginate,® 

Named inexpressibly, 

Through all Heaven impermeate, 
Pierced irredressibly ! 


Behind the stove still banned, 

See it, an elephant, expand! 

It fills the space entire, 

Mist-like melting, ever faster. 

*T is enough: ascend no higher, — 

Lay thyself at the feet of the Master ! 
Thou seest, not vain the threats I bring thee: 
With holy fire I'll scorch and sting thee! 
Wait not to know 

The threefold dazzling glow ! 

Wait not to know 

The strongest art within my hands! 


MEPHISTOPHELES ** 


(ohsle the vapor is dissipating, steps forth from behind the stoun 
in the costume of a Travelling Scholar). 


Why such a noise? What are my lord’s commands? 


54 FAUST. 


FAUST. 


This was the poodle’s real core, 
A travelling scholar, then? The casus is diverting. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


The learned gentleman I bow before: 
You ’ve made me roundly sweat, that ’s certain! 


FAUST. 
What is thy name? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
A question small, it seems, 
For one whose mind the Word so much despises ; 
Who, scorning all external gleams, 
‘he depths of being only prizes. 


FAUST. 


With all you gentlemen, the name ’s a test, 

Whereby the nature usually is expressed. 

Clearly the latter it implies 

In names like Beelzebub, Destroyer, Father of Lies.* 
Who art thou, then? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Part of that Power, not understood, 
Which always wills the Bad, and always works the Good. 


FAUST. 
What hidden sense in this enigma lies? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
I am the Spirit that Denies ! 53 
And justly so: for all things, from the Void 
Called forth, deserve to be destroyed : 





SCENE III. 55 


*T were better, then, were naught created. 
Thus, all which you as Sin have rated, — 
Destruction, — aught with Evil blent, — 
That is my proper element. 


FAUST. 
Thou nam’st thyself a part, yet show’st complete to me? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


The modest truth I speak to thee. 

If Man, that microcosmic fool, can see 

Himself a whole so frequently, 

Part of the Part am I, once All, in primal Night, — 
Part of the Darkness which brought forth the Light, 
The haughty Light, which now disputes the space, 
And claims of Mother Night her ancient place. 

And yet, the struggle fails; since Light, howe’er it weaves, 
Still, fettered, unto bodies cleaves : 

It flows from bodies, bodies beautifies ; 

By bodies is its course impeded ; 

And so, but little time is needed, 

I hope, ere, as the bodies die, it dies! 


FAUST. 


I see the plan thou art pursuing: 
Thou canst not compass general ruin, 
And hast on smaller scale begun. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


And truly ’t is not much, when all is done. 

That which to Naught is in resistance set, — 

The Something of this clumsy world, — has yet, 
With all that I have undertaken, 

Not been by me disturbed or shaken: 

From earthquake, tempest, wave, volcano’s brand, 


56 FAUST, 


Back into quiet settle sea and land! 

And that damned stuff, the bestial, human brood, — 
What use, in having that to play with? 

How many have I made away with! 

And ever circulates a newer, fresher blood. 

It makes me furious, such things beholding: 
From Water, Earth, and Air unfolding, 

A thousand germs break forth and grow, 

In dry, and wet, and warm, and chilly ; 

And had I not the Flame reserved, why, really, 
There ’s nothing special of my own to show! 


FAUST. 
So, to the actively eternal 
Creative force, in cold disdain 
You now oppose the fist infernal, 
Whose wicked clench is all in vain! 
Some other labor seek thou rather, 
Queer Son of Chaos, to begin ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Well, we ’ll consider: thou canst gather 
My views, when next I venture in. 
Might I, perhaps, depart at present? 


FAUST. 
Why thou shouldst ask, I don’t perceive. 
Though our acquaintance is so recent, 
For further visits thou hast leave. 
The window ’s here, the door is yonder ; 
A chimney, also, you behold. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
I must confess that forth I may not wander, | 
My steps by one slight obstacle controlled, — 
The wizard’s-foot, that on your threshold made is.5s 


SCENE Til. 57 


FAUST. 


The pentagram prohibits thee? 

Why, tell me now, thou Son of Hades, 

If that prevents, how cam’st thou in to me? 
Could such a spirit be so cheated ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Inspect the thing: the drawing ’s not completed. 
The outer angle, you may see, 
Is open left — the lines don’t fit it. 


FAUST. 
‘Well, — Chance, this time, has fairly hit it! 
And thus, thou ’rt prisoner to me? 
It seems the business has succeeded. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


‘Che poodle naught remarked, as after mee he speeded; 
But other aspects now obtain: 
The Devil can’t get out again. 


FAUST. 
Try, then, the open window-pane ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
for Devils and for spectres this is law: 
Where they have entered in, there also they withdraw. 
The first is free to us; we’re governed by the second. 


FAUST. 
in Hell itself, then, laws are reckoned? 
That’s well! So might a compact be 
Made with you gentlemen —and binding, — surely ? 
3* 





58 FAUST, 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
All that is promised shall delight thee purely; 
No skinflint bargain shalt thou see. 
But this is not of swift conclusion; 
We'll talk about the matter soon. 
And now, I do entreat this boon — 
Leave to withdraw from my intrusion. 


FAUST. 


One moment more I ask thee to remain, 
Some pleasant news, at least, to tell me. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Release me, now! I soon shall come again; 
Then thou, at will, mayst question and compel me. 


FAUST. 


I have not snares around thee cast; 

Thyself bast led thyself into the meshes. 

Who traps the Devil, hold him fast! 

Not soon a second time he’ll catch a prey so precious. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


An’t please thee, also I’m content to stay, 
And serve thee in a social station ; 

But stipulating, that I may 

With arts of mine afford thee recreation. 


FAUST. 
Thereto I willingly agree, 
If the diversion pleasant be. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
My friend, thou ‘It win, past all pretences, 
More in this hour to soothe thy senses, 
Than in the year’s monotony. 


SCENE Ill. 59 


That which the dainty spirits sing thee, 
The lovely pictures they shall bring thee. 
Are more than magic’s empty show. 
Thy scent will be to bliss invited; 

Thy palate then with taste delighted, 
Thy nerves of touch ecstatic glow! 

All unprepared, the charm I spin: 
We're here together, so begin! 


SPIRITS.* 
Vanish, ye darkling 
Arches above him! 
Loveliest weather, 
Born of blue ether, 
Break from the sky ! 
O that the darkling 
Clouds had departed! 
Starlight is sparkling, 
Tranquiller-hearted 
Suns are on high. 
Heaven’s own children 
In beauty bewildering, 
Waveringly bending, 
Pass as they hover ; 
Longing unending 
Follows them over. 
They, with their glowing 
Garments, out-flowing, 
Cover, in going, 
Landscape and bower, 
Where, in seclusion, 
Lovers are plighted, 
Lost in illusion. 

Bower on bower! 
Tendrils unblighted ! 


60 


FAOST. 


Lo! in a shower 
Grapes that o’ercluster 
Gush into must, or 
Flow into rivers 

Of foaming and flashing 
Wine, that is dashing 
Gems, as it boundeth 
Down the high places, 
And spreading, surroundeth 
With crystalline spaces, 
In happy embraces, 
Blossoming forelands, 
Emerald shore-lands ! 
And the winged races 
Drink, and fly onward — 
Fly ever sunward 

To the enticing 

Islands, that flatter, 
Dipping and rising 
Light on the water! 
Hark, the inspiring 
Sound of their quiring! 
See, the entrancing 
Whirl of their dancing ! 
All in the air are 

Freer and fairer. 

Some of them scaling 
Boldly the highlands, 
Others are sailing, 
Circling the islands ; 
Others are flying ; 
Life-ward all hieing, — 
All for the distant 

Star of existent 
Rapture and Love! 





SCENE 111. 61 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


He sleeps! Enough, ye fays! your airy number 

Have sung him truly into slumber : 

For this performance I your debtor prove. — 

Not yet art thou the man, to catch the Fiend and hold 
him !— 

With fairest images of dreams infold him, 

Plunge him in seas of sweet untruth! 

Yet, for the threshold’s magic which controlled him, 

The Devil needs a rat’s quick tooth. 

I use no lengthened invocation : 

Here rustles one that soon will work my liberation. 


The lord of rats and eke of mice, 

Of flies and bed-bugs, frogs and lice, 

Summons thee hither to the door-sill, 

To gnaw it where, with just a morsel 

Of oil, he paints the spot for thee : — 

There com’st thou, hopping on to me! 

To work, at once! The point which made me craven 

Is forward, on the ledge, engraven. 

Another bite makes free the door : 

So, dream thy dreams, O Faust, until we meer unce 
more ! 


FAUST (aweaking). 


Am I again so foully cheated ? 

Remains there naught of lofty spirit-sway, 
But that a dream the Devil counterfeited, 
And that a poodle ran away? 


62 FACST. 


IV. 


THE STUDY. 
FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. 


FAUST. 
A KNOCK? Comein! Again my quiet broken ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
‘Tis I! 
FAUST. 
Come in! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Thrice must the words be spoken. 


FAUST. 
Come in, then! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Thus thou pleasest me. 
I hope we ’Il suit each other well ; 
For now, thy vapors to dispel, 
I come, a squire of high degree,57 
In scarlet coat, with golden trimming, 
A cloak in silken lustre swimming, 
A tall cock’s-feather in my hat, 
A long, sharp sword for show or quarrel, — 
And I advise thee, brief and flat, 





SCENE IV. 63 


To don the self-same gay apparel, 
That, from this den released, and free, 
Life be at last revealed to thee ! 


FAUST. 


This life of earth, whatever my attire, 

Would pain me in its wonted fashion.* 

Too old am I to play with passion ; 

Too young, to be without desire. 

What from the world have I to gain? 

Thou shalt abstain — renounce — refrain ! 

Such is the everlasting song 

That in the ears of all men rings, — 

That unrelieved, our whole life long, 

Each hour, in passing, hoarsely sings. 

In very terror I at morn awake, 

Upon the verge of bitter weeping, 

To see the day of disappointment break, 

To no one hope of mine — not one — its promise keep- 
ing :— 

That even each joy’s presentiment 

With wilful cavil would diminish, 

With grinning masks of life prevent 

My mind its fairest work to finish! 

Then, too, when night descends, how anxiously 

Upon my couch of sleep I lay me: 

There, also, comes no rest to me,” 

But some wild dream is sent to fray me. 

The God that in my breast is owned 

Can deeply stir the inner sources ; 

The God, above my powers enthroned, 

He cannot change external forces. 

So, by the burden of my days oppressed, 

Death is desired, and Life a thing unblest! 





64 FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
And yet is never Death a wholly welcome guest. 


FAUST. 


O fortunate, for whom, when victory glances, 
The bloody laurels on the brow he bindeth ! 
Whom, after rapid, maddening dances, 

In clasping maiden-arms he findeth ! 

O would that I, before that spirit-power, 
Ravished and rapt from life, had sunken! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


And yet, by some one, in that nightly hour, 
A certain liquid was not drunken. 


FAUST. 
Eavesdropping, ha! thy pleasure seems to be. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Omniscient am I not; yet much is known to me. 


FAUST. 


Though some familiar tone, retrieving 
My thoughts from torment, led me on, 
And sweet, clear echoes came, deceiving 
A faith bequeathed from Childhood’s dawn, 
Yet now I curse whate’er entices 

And snares the soul with visions vain; 
With dazzling cheats and dear devices 
Confines it in this cave of pain! 

Cursed be, at once, the high ambition 
Wherewith the mind itself deludes ! 
Cursed be the glare of apparition 

That on the finer sense intrudes ! 


SCENE IV. 65 


Cursed be the lying dream’s impression 

Of name, and fame, and laurelled brow! 
Cursed, all that flatters as possession, 

As wife and child, as knave and plow! 
Cursed Mammon be, when he with treasures 
To restless action spurs our fate! 

Cursed when, for soft, indulgent leisures, 
He lays for us the pillows straight! 

Cursed be the vine’s transcendent nectar, — 
The highest favor Love lets fall! 

Cursed, also, Hope ! — cursed Faith, the spectre! 
And cursed be Patience most of all! 


CHORUS OF SPIRITS (snviséble).© 


Woe! woe! 

Thou hast it destroyed, 

The beautiful world, 

With powerful fist : 

In ruin ’t is hurled, 

By the blow of a demigod shattered! 
The scattered 

Fragments into the Void we carry, 
Deploring 

The beauty perished beyond restoring. 
Mightier 

For the children of men, 

Brightlier 

Build it again, 

In thine own bosom build it anew! 
Bid the new career 

Commence, 

With clearer sense, 

And the new songs of cheer 

Be sung thereto! 


66 


FA OST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


These are the small dependants 

Who give me attendance. 

Hear them, to deeds and passion 

Counsel in shrewd old-fashion ! 

Into the world of strife, 

Out of this lonely life 

That of senses and sap has betrayed thee, 
They would persuade thee. 

This nursing of the pain forego thee, 
That, like a vulture, feeds upon thy breast! 
The worst society thou find’st will show thee 
Thou art a man among the rest. 

But ’t is not meant to thrust 

Thee into the mob thou hatest! 

I am not one of the greatest, 

Yet, wilt thou to me entrust 

Thy steps through life, I'll guide thee, — 
Will willingly walk beside thee, — 

Will serve thee at once and forever 

With best endeavor, 

And, if thou art satisfied, 

Will as servant, slave, with thee abide. 


FAUST. 
And what shall be my counter-service therefor ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
The time is long: thou need’st not now insist. 


FAUST. 
No—no! The Devil is an egotist, 
And is not apt, without a why or wherefore, 
“ For God’s sake,” others to assist. 








SCENE IJV. 67 


Speak thy conditions plain and clear! 
With such a servant danger comes, I fear. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Here, an unwearied slave, 1 ’ll wear thy tether, 
And to thine every nod obedient be: 

When here again we come together, 

Then shalt thou do the same for me. 


FAUST. 


The 7here my scruples naught increases. 
When thou hast dashed this world to pieces, 
The other, then, its place may fill. 

Here, on this earth, my pleasures have their sources ; 
Yon sun beholds my sorrows in his courses ; 
And when from these my life itself divorces, 
Let happen all that can or will! 

Ill hear no more: ’t is vain to ponder 

If there we cherish love or hate, 

Or, in the spheres we dream of yonder, 

A High and Low our souls await. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


In this sense, even, canst thou venture. 
Come, bind thyself by prompt indenture, 
And thou mine arts with joy shalt see: 
What no man ever saw, I ’Il give to thee. 


FAUST. 


Canst thou, poor Devil, give me whatsoever ? 
When was a human soul, in its supreme endeavor, 
E’er understood by such as thou? 

Yet, hast thou food which never satiates, now, — 
The restless, ruddy gold hast thou, 

That runs, quicksilver-like, one’s fingers through, — 


68 FAUST. 


A game whose winnings no man ever knew, — 

A maid, that, even from my breast, 

Beckons my neighbor with her wanton glances, 
And Honor’s godlike zest, 

The meteor that a moment dances, — 

Show me the fruits that, ere they ’re gathered, rot, 
And trees that daily with new leafage clothe them! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Such a demand alarms me not: 

Such treasures have I, and can show them. 

But still the time may reach us, good my friend, 
When peace we crave and more luxurious diet. 


FAUST. 


When on an idler’s bed I stretch myself in quiet, 
There let, at once, my record end! 

Canst thou with lying flattery rule me, 

Until, self-pleased, myself I see, — 

Canst thou with rich enjoyment fool me, 

Let that day be the last for me! 

The bet I offer. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Done! 


FAUST. 


And heartily ! 
When thus I hail the Moment flying: 
“ Ah, still delay — thou art so fair!” % 
Then bind me in thy bonds undying, 
My final ruin then declare! 
Then let the death-bell chime the token, 
Then art thou from thy service free! 
The clock may stop, the hand be broken, 
Then Time be finished unto me! 


SCENE IV. 69 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Consider well: my memory good is rated. 


FAUST. 


Thou hast a perfect right thereto. 

My powers I have not rashly estimated : 

A slave am I, whate’er 1 do— 

If thine, or whose? ’t is need’ess to debate it. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Then at the Doctors’-banquet I, to-day, 

Will as a servant wait behind thee. 

But one thing more! Beyond all risk to bind thee, 
Give me a line or two, I pray. 


FAUST. 


Demand’st thou, Pedant, too, a document? 

Hast never known a man, nor proved his word’s intent? 
Is ’t not enough, that what I speak to-day 

Shall stand, with all my future days agreeing? 

In all its tides sweeps not the world away, 

And shall a promise bind my being? 

Yet this delusion in our hearts we bear: 

Who would himself therefrom deliver? 

Blest he, whose bosom Truth makes pure and fair! 
No sacrifice shall he repent of ever. 

Nathless a parchment, writ and stamped with care, 
A spectre is, which all to shun endeavor. 

The word, alas! dies even in the pen, 

And wax and leather keep the lordship then. 

What wilt from me, Base Spirit, say ?— 

Brass, marble, parchment, paper, clay? 

The terms with graver, quill, or chisel, stated ? 

I freely leave the choice to thee. 


70 FA CST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Why heat thyself, thus instantly, 

With eloquence exaggerated ? 

Each leaf for such a pact is good; 

And to subscribe thy name thou ‘It take a drop of blood. 


FAUST. 


If thou therewith art fully satisfied, 
So let us by the farce abide. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Blood is a juice of rarest quality. 


FAUST. 


fear not that I this pact shall seek to sever! 
The promise that I make to thee 

Is just the sum of my endeavor. 

I have myself inflated all too high ; 

My proper place is thy estate: 

The Mighty Spirit deigns me no reply, 
And Nature shuts on me her gate. 

The thread of Thought at last is broken, 
And knowledge brings disgust unspoken. 
Let us the sensual deeps explore, 

To quench the fervors of glowing passion! 
Let every marvel take form and fashion 
Through the impervious veil it wore! 
Plunge we in Time’s tumultuous dance, 

In the rush and roll of Circumstance ! 
Then may delight and distress, 

And worry and success, 

Alternately follow, as best they can: 
Restless activity proves the man! 


SCENE IV. 7 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


For you no bound, no term is set. 
Whether you everywhere be trying, 

Or snatch a rapid bliss in flying, 

May it agree with you, what you get! 
Only fall to, and show no timid balking. 


FAUST. 


But thou hast heard, ’t is not of joy we ’re talking. 

I take the wildering whirl, enjoyment’s keenest pain, 
Enamored hate, exhilarant disdain. 

My bosom, of its thirst for knowledge sated, 

Shall not, henceforth, from any pang be wrested, 
And all of life for all mankind created % 

Shall be within mine inmost being tested : 

The highest, lowest forms my soul shall borrow, 
Shall heap upon itself their bliss and sorrow, 

And thus, my own sole self to all their selves expanded, 
I too, at last, shall with them all be stranded! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Believe me, who for many a thousand year 
The same tough meat have chewed and tested, 
That from the cradle to the bier 

No man the ancient leaven has digested! 
Trust one of us, this Whole surpernal 

Is made but for a God’s delight! 

fe dwells in splendor single and eternal, 

But ws he thrusts in darkness, out of sight, 
And you he dowers with Day and Night. 


FAUST. 
Nay, but I will! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


A good reply! 


72 FA OST. 


One only fear still needs repeating : 

The art is long, the time is fleeting. 

Then let thyself be taught, say I! 

Go, Jeague thyself with a poet, 

Give the rein to his imagination, 

Then wear the crown, and show it, 

Of the qualities of his creation, — 

The courage of the lion’s breed, 

The wild stag’s speed, 

The Italian’s fiery blood, 

The North’s firm fortitude ! 

Let him find for thee the secret tether 
That binds the Noble and Mean together, 
And teach thy pulses of youth and pleasure 
To love by rule, and hate by measure ! 
Id like, myself, such a one to see : 

Sir Microcosm his name should be. 


FAUST. 
What am I, then, if tis denied my part 
The crown of all humanity to win me, 
Whereto yearns every sense within me? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Why, on the whole, thou ’rt — what thou art. 

Set wigs of million curls upon thy head, to raise thee, 
Wear shoes an ell in height, —the truth veirays thee, 
And thou remainest — what th.u art. 


FAUST. 


I feel, indeed, that I have made the treasure 

Of human thought and knowledge mine, in vain ; 
And if I now sit down in restful leisure, 

No fount of newer strength is in my brain: 








SCENE IV. 73 


I am no hair’s-breadth more in height, 
Nor nearer to the Infinite. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Good Sir, you see the facts precisely 

As they are seen by each and all. 

We must arrange them now, more wisely, 

Before the joys of life shall pall. 

Why, Zounds! Both hands and feet are, truly — 
And head and virile forces — thine: 

Yet all that I indulge in newly, 

Is ’t thence less wholly mine ? 

If I ‘ve six stallions in my stall, 

Are not their forces also lent me? 

I speed along, completest man of all, 

As though my legs were four-and-twenty. 

Take hold, then ! let reflection rest, 

And plunge into the world with zest! 

I say to thee, a speculative wight 

Is like a beast on moorlands lean, 

That round and round some fiend misleads to evil plight, 
While all about lie pastures fresh and green. 


FAUST. 
Then how shall we begin ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


We'll try a wider sphere. 

What place of martyrdom is here! 
Is ’t life, I ask, is °t even prudence, 
To bore thyself and bore the students ? 
Let Neighbor Paunch to that attend ! 
Why plague thyself with threshing straw forever ? 
The best thou learnest, in the end 

VOL. I. 4 





74 FAUST. 


Thou dar’st not tell the youngsters — never! 
I hear one’s footsteps, hither steering. 


FAUST. 
To see him now I have no heart. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


So long the poor boy waits a hearing, 

He must not unconsoled depart. 

Thy cap and mantle straightway lend me! 
I'll play the comedy with art. 


(He disguises himself.) 


My wits, be certain, will befriend me. 

But fifteen minutes’ time is all I need; 

For our fine trip, meanwhile, prepare thyself with speed { 
[Ax Fausr 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
(7x Faust’s long mantle.) 


Reason and Knowledge only thou despise, 

The highest strength in man that lies! 

Let but the Lying Spirit bind thee 

With magic works and shows that blind thee, 

And I shall have thee fast and sure !@— 

Fate such a bold, untrammelled spirit gave him, 

As forwards, onwards, ever must endure ; 

Whose over-hasty impulse drave him 

Past earthly joys he might secure. 

Dragged through the wildest life, will I enslave him, 
Through flat and stale indifference ; 

With struggling, chilling, checking, so deprave him 
That, to his hot, insatiate sense, 

The dream of drink shall mock, but never lave him: 


SCENE IV. 75 


Refreshment shall his lips in vain implore — 

Had he not made himself the Devil’s, naught could save 
him, 

Still were he lost forevermore ! 


(4 STUDENT enters.) 


STUDENT. 


A short time, only, am I here, 

And come, devoted and sincere, 

To greet and know the man of fame, 
Whom men to me with reverence name. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Your courtesy doth flatter me : 
You see a man, as others be. 
Have you, perchance, elsewhere begun ? 


STUDENT. 


Receive me now, I pray, as one 

Who comes to you with courage good, 

Somewhat of cash, and healthy blood : 

My mother was hardly willing to let me ; 

But knowledge worth having I fain would get me. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Then you have reached the right place now. 


STUDENT. 


I’d like to leave it, I must avow ; 

I find these walls, these vaulted spaces 
Are anything but pleasant places. 

’T is all so cramped and close and mean; 
One sees no tree, no glimpse of green, 
And when the lecture-halls receive me, 
Seeing, hearing, and thinking leave me. 


76 FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
All that depends on habitude. 
So from its mother’s breasts a child 
At first, reluctant, takes its food, 
But soon to seek them is beguiled. 
Thus, at the breasts of Wisdom clinging, 
Thou ‘It find each day a greater rapture bringing. 


STUDENT. 


I'll hang thereon with joy, and freely drain them; 
But tell me, pray, the proper means to gain them. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Explain, before you further speak, 
The special faculty you seek. 


STUDENT. 
I crave the highest erudition ; 
And fain would make my acquisition 
All that there is in Earth and Heaven, 
In Nature and in Science too. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Here is the genuine path for you; 
Yet strict attention must be given. 


STUDENT. 
Body and soul thereon I ’ll wreak; 
Yet, truly, I’ve some inclination 
On summer holidays to seek 
A little freedom and recreation. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Use well your time! It flies so swiftly from us; 
But time through order may be won, J promise. 





SCENE IV. 7 


So, Friend, (my views to briefly sum,) 

First, the collegium logicum. 

There will your mind be drilled and braced, 
As if in Spanish boots ’t were laced, 

And thus, to graver paces brought, 

*T will plod along the path of thought, 
Instead of shooting here and there, 

A will-o’-the-wisp in murky air. 

Days will be spent to bid you know, 

What once you did at a single blow, 

Like eating and drinking, free and strong, — 
That one, two, three! thereto belong. 

Truly the fabric of mental fleece 

Resembles a weaver’s masterpiece, 

Where a thousand threads one treadle throws, 
Where fly the shuttles hither and thither, 
Unseen the threads are knit together, 

And an infinite combination grows. 

Then, the philosopher steps in 

And shows, no otherwise it could have been: 
The first was so, the second so, 

Therefore the third and fourth are so; 

Were not the first and second, then 

The third and fourth had never been. 

The scholars are everywhere believers, 

But never succeed in being weavers. 

He who would study organic existence, 

First drives out the soul with rigid persistence ; 
Then the parts in his hand he may hold and class, 
But the spiritual link is lost, alas! 
Enchetresin natura, this Chemistry names,” 
Nor knows how herself she banters and blames! 


STUDENT. 
I cannot understand you quite 


“8 FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Your mind will shortly be set aright, 
When you have learned, all things reducing, 
To classify them for your using. 


STUDENT. 


1 feel as stupid, from all you ’ve said, 
As if a mill-wheel whirled in my head! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


And after — first and foremost duty — 

Of Metaphysics learn the use and beauty ! 
See that you most profoundly gain 

What does not suit the human brain! 

A splendid word to serve, you ’l! find 

For what goes in — or won’t go in — your mind. 
But first, at least this half a year, 

To order rigidly adhere ; 

Five hours a day, you understand, 

And when the clock strikes, be on hand! 
Prepare beforehand for your part 

With paragraphs all got by heart, 

So you can better watch, and look 

That naught is said but what is in the book: 
Yet in thy writing as unwearied be, 

As did the Holy Ghost dictate to thee !@ 


STUDENT. 


No need to tell me twice to do it! 

I think, how useful ’t is to write; 

For what one has, in black and white, 

One carries home and then goes through it. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Yet choose thyself a faculty ! 








SCENE IV. 719 


STUDENT. 
I cannot reconcile myself to Jurisprudence. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Nor can I therefore greatly blame you students: 
I know what science this has come to be. 

All rights and laws are still transmitted 

Like an eternal sickness of the race, — 

From generation unto generation fitted, 

And shifted round from place to place. 

Reason becomes a sham, Beneficence a worry: 
Thou art a grandchild, therefore woe to thee! 
The right born with us, ours in verity, 

This to consider, there’s, alas! no hurry. 


STUDENT. 


My own disgust is strengthened by your speech * 
O lucky he, whom you shall teach! 
I’ve almost for Theology decided. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


I should not wish to see you here misguided: 

For, as regards this science, let me hint 

T is very hard to shun the false direction ; 

There ’s so much secret poison lurking in ’t, 

So like the medicine, it baffles your detection. 
Hear, therefore, one alone, for that is best, in sooth, 
And simply take your master’s words for truth. 

On words \et your attention centre !% 

Then through the safest gate you ’ll enter 

The temple-halls of Certainty. 


STUDENT. 
Yet in the word must some idea be. 





80 FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Of course! But only shun too over-sharp a tension, 
For just where fails the comprehension, 

A word steps promptly in as deputy. 

With words ’t is excellent disputing ; 

Systems to words ’t is easy suiting ; 

On words ’t is excellent believing ; 

No word can ever lose a jot from thieving. 


STUDENT. 


Pardon! With many questions I detain you, 
Yet must I trouble you again. 

Of Medicine I still would fain 

Hear one strong word that might explain you. 
Three years is but a little space, 

And, God! who can the field embrace ? 
Ifone some index could be shown, 

"T were easier groping forward, truly. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (aside), 


I’m tired enough of this dry tone, — 
Must play the Devil again, and fully. 
( Aloud.) 
To grasp the spirit of Medicine is easy: 
Learn of the great and little world your fill, 
To let it go at last, so please ye, 
Just as God will! 
In vain that through the realms of science you may drift; 
Each one learns only — just what learn he can: 
Yet he who grasps the Moment’s gift, 
He is the proper man. 
Well-made you are, ’t is not to be denied, 
The rest a bold address will win you ; 
If you but in yourself confide, 
At once confide all others in you. 





SCENE IV. 81 


To lead the women, learn the special feeling ! 
Their everlasting aches and groans, 

In thousand tones, 

Have all one source, one mode of healing ; 
And if your acts are half discreet, 

You ’ll always have them at your feet. 

A title first must draw and interest them, 
And show that yours all other arts exceeds ; 
Then, as a greeting, you are free to touch and test them, 
While, thus to do, for years another pleads. 
You press and count the pulse’s dances, 

And then, with burning sidelong glances, 
You clasp the swelling hips, to see 

If tightly laced her corsets be. 


STUDENT. 
That ’s better, now! The How and Where, one sees. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


My worthy friend, gray are all theories, 
And green alone Life’s golden tree. 


STUDENT. 


J swear to you, ’tis like a dream to me. 
Might I again presume, with trust unbounded, 
To hear your wisdom thoroughly expounded ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Most willingly, to what extent I may. 


STUDENT. 
I cannot really go away: 
Allow me that my album first I reach you, — 
Grant me this favor, I beseech you! 
4* 





82 FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Assuredly. 


(He writes, and returns the book.) 


STUDENT (reads). 
Eritis sicut Dews, scientes bonuim et malum. 


( Closes the book with reverence, and withdraws.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Follow the ancient text, and the snake thou wast ordered 
to trample! 
With all thy likeness to God, thou It yet be a sorry 


example ! 
(Faust enters.) 


FAUST. 
Now, whither shall we go? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
As best it pleases thee. 
The little world, and then the great, we ’ll see.” 
With what delight, what profit winning, 
Shalt thou sponge through the term beginning! 


FAUST. 
Yet with the flowing beard I wear, 
Both ease and grace will fail me there. 
The attempt, indeed, were a futile strife ; 
I never could learn the ways of life. 
I feel so small before others, and thence 
Should always find embarrassments.”* 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


My friend, thou soon shalt lose all such misgiving: 
Be thou but self-possessed, thou hast the art of living! 


SCENE IV. 83 


FAUST. 


How shall we leave the house, and start? 
Where hast thou servant, coach and horses ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
We ’ll spread this cloak with proper art, 
Then through the air direct our courses. 
But only, on so bold a flight, 
Be sure to have thy luggage light. 
A little burning air, which I shall soon prepare us, 
Above the earth will nimbly bear us, 
And, if we’re light, we ’ll travel swift and clear: 
I gratulate thee on thy new career!” 


84 FAUST. 


V. 


AUERBACH’S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG. 
CAROUSAL OF JOLLY COMPANIONS. 


FROSCH. | 
| fie no one laughing? no one drinking? 
I'll teach you how to grin, I’m thinking. 
To-day you ’re like wet straw, so tame; 
And usually you ’re all aflame. 


BRANDER. 


Now that’s your fault; from you we nothing see, 
No beastliness and no stupidity. 


FROSCH. 
(Pours a glass of wine over BRANDER’S head.) 
There ’s both together! 


BRANDER. 
Twice a swine! 


FROSCH. 
You wanted them: I’ve given you mine. 


SIEBEL. 


Turn out who quarrels — out the door! 
With open throat sing chorus, drink and roar! 
Up! holla! ho! 


SCENE V. 8s 


ALTMAYER. 


Woe’s me, the fearful bellow! 
Bring cotton, quick! He’s split my ears, that fellow. 


SIEBEL. 
When the vault echoes to the song, 
One first perceives the bass is deep and strong. 


FROSCH. 


Well said ! and out with him that takes the least offence! 
Ah, tara, lara, da! 


ALTMAYER. 
Ah, tara, lara, da! 


FROSCH. 
The throats are tuned, commence ! 


(Sirgs.) 
The dear old holy Roman realm, 
How does it hold together ? 


BRANDER. 
A nasty song! Fie! a political song74— 
A most offensive song! Thank God, each morning, 
therefore, 
That you have not the Roman realm to care for! 
At least, J hold it so much gain for me, 
That I nor Chancellor nor Kaiser be. 
Yet also we must have a ruling head, I hope, 
And so we'll choose ourselves a Pope. 
You know the quality that can 
Decide the choice, and elevate the man. 


FROSCH (sings). 


Soar up, soar up, Dame Nightingale /7s 
Ten thousand times my sweetheart hail / 


86 FAUST. 


SIEBEL. 
No, greet my sweetheart not! I tell you, I'll resent it. 


FROSCH. 
My sweetheart greet and kiss! I dare you to prevent it! 


(Simgs.) 
Draw the latch / the darkness makes: 
Draw the latch! the lover wakes. 
Shut the latch! the morning breaks. 


SIEBEL. 
Yes, sing away, sing on, and praise, and brag of her! 
I’ll wait my proper time for laughter : 
Me by the nose she lead, and now she ’ll lead you after. 
Her paramour should be an ugly gnome, 
Where four roads cross, in wanton play to meet her: 
An old he-goat, from Blocksberg coming home, 
Should his good-night in lustful gallop bleat her! 
A fellow made of genuine flesh and blood 
Is for the wench a deal too good. 
Greet her? NotI: unless, when meeting, 
To smash her windows be a greeting! 


BRANDER (founding on the table), 


Attention! Hearken now to me! 

Confess, Sirs, I know how to live. 

Enamored persons here have we, 

And J, as suits their quality, 

Must something fresh for their advantage give. 
Take heed! ’T is of the latest cut, my strain, 
And all strike in at each refrain ! 


(He sings.) 
There was a rat in the cellar-nest, * 
Whom fat and butter made smoother: 


SCENE V. 87 


He had a paunch beneath his vest 
Like that of Doctor Luther. 

The cook laid poison cunningly, 
And then as sore oppressed was he 
As if he had love in his bosom. 


CHORUS (shouting). 
As if he had love in his bosom! 


BRANDER. 
He ran around, he ran about, 
His thirst in puddles laving ; 
He gnawed and scratched the house throughout, 
But nothing cured his raving. 
He whirled and jumped, with torment mad, 
And soon enough the poor beast had, 
As if he had love in his bosom. 


CHORUS. 
As if he had love in his bosom ! 


BRANDER. 
And driven at last, in open day, 
He ran into the kitchen, 
Fell on the hearth, and squirming lay, 
In the last convulsion twitching. 
Then laughed the murderess in her glee: 
“Ha! ha! he’s at his last gasp,” said she, 
“ As if he had love in his bosom!” 


CHORUS. 
As if he had love in his bosom! 


SIEBEL. 
How the dull fools enjoy the matter’ 
To me it is a proper art 
Poison for such poor rats to scatter. 


88 FAUST. 


BRANDER. 
Perhaps you ’ll warmly take their part? 


ALTMAYER. 
The bald-pate pot-belly I have noted: 
Misfortune tames him by degrees ; 
For in the rat by poison bloated 
His own most natural form he sees. 


FAUST AND MEPHISTOPHELES. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Before all else, I bring thee hither 
Where boon companions meet together, 
To let thee see how smooth life runs away. 
Here, for the folk, each day ’s a holiday: 
With little wit, and ease to suit them, 
They whirl in narrow, circling trails, 
Like kittens playing with their tails ; 
And if no headache persecute them, 
So long the host may credit give, 
They merrily and careless live. 


BRANDER. 


The fact is easy to unravel, 
Their air’s so odd, they ’ve just returned from travel: 
A single hour they ’ve not been here. 


FROSCH. 


You ’ve verily hit the truth! Leipzig to me is dear: 
Paris in miniature, how it refines its people !77 


SIEBEL. 
Who are the strangers, should you guess? 





SCENE V. 89 


FROSCH. 


Let me alone! Ill set them first to drinking, 

And then, as one a child’s tooth draws, with cleverness, 
I’ll worm their secret out, | ’m thinking. 

They ’re of a noble house, that ’s very clear: 

Haughty and discontented they appear. 


BRANDER. 
They ’re mountebanks, upon a revel. 


ALTMAYER. 
Perhaps. 


FROSCH. 
Look out, I ’ll smoke them now! 


MEPHISTOPHELES (fo Faust). 


Not if he had them by the neck, I vow, 
Would e’er these people scent the Devil! 


FAUST. 
Fair greeting, gentlemen! 


SIEBEL. 
Our thanks: we give the same. 


(Murmurs, inspecting MEPHISTOPHELES from the side.) 


In one foot is the fellow lame? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Is it permitted that we share your leisure ? 
In place of cheering drink, which one seeks vainly here, 
Your company shall give us pleasure. 


ALTMAYER. 
A most fastidious person you appear. 





g0 FAUST. 


FROSCH. 


No doubt ’t was late when you from Rippach started ?* 
And supping there with Hans occasioned your delay ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES, 


We passed, without a call, to-day. 

At our last interview, before we parted 

Much of his cousins did he speak, entreating 
That we should give to each his kindly greeting. 


(He bows to FROSCH.) 


ALTMAYER (aside). 
You have it now! he understands. 


SIEBEL. 
A knave sharp-set! 


FROSCH. 
Just wait awhile: I Il have him yet. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


If I am right, we heard the sound 

Of well-trained voices, singing chorus; 
And truly, song must here rebound 
Superbly from the arches o’er us. 


FROSCH. 
Are you, perhaps, a virtuoso? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
O no! my wish is great, my power is only so-so. 


ALTMAYER. 
Give us a song! 





SCENE V. 91 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
If you desire, a number. 


SIEBEL. 
So that it be a bran-new strain! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


We ’ve just retraced our way from Spain, 
The lovely land of wine, and song, and slumber. 


(Séngs.) 


There was a king once reigning,” 
Who had a big black flea — 


FROSCH. 


Hear, hear! A flea! D’ ye rightly take the jest? 
I call a flea a tidy guest. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (sings). 


There was a king once reigning, 
Who had a big black flea, 

And loved him past explaining, 

As his own son were he. 

He called his man of stitches ; 

The tailor came straightway : 

Here, measure the lad for breeches, 
And measure his coat, I say! 


BRANDER. 


But mind, allow the tailor no caprices: 
Enjoin upon him, as his head is dear, 
To most exactly measure, sew and shear, 
So that the breeches have no creases! 


g2 


FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


In silk and velvet gleaming 
He now was wholly drest — 
Had a coat with ribbons streaming, 


_ Across upon his breast. 


He had the first of stations, 
A minister’s star and name; 
And also all his relations 
Great lords at court became. 


And the lords and ladies of honor 
Were plagued, awake and in bed ; 
The queen she got them upon her, 
The maids were bitten and bled. 
And they did not dare to brush them, 
Or scratch them, day or night: 

We crack them and we crush them, 
At once, whene’er they bite. 


CHORUS (shouting). 


We crack them and we crush them, 
At once, whene’er they bite ! 


FROSCH. 


Bravo! bravo! that was fine. 


SIEBEL. 


Every flea may it so befall! 


BRANDER. 


Point your fingers and nip them all! 


ALTMAYER. 


Hurrah for Freedom! Hurrah for wine! 





SCENE V. 93 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
I fain would drink with you, my glass to Freedom 
clinking, 
If ’t were a better wine that here I see you drinking. 
SIEBEL. 
Don’t let us hear that speech again! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Did I not fear the landlord might complain, 
Id treat these worthy guests, with pleasure, 
To some from out our cellar’s treasure. 


SIEBEL. 
Just treat, and let the landlord me arraign ! 


FROSCH. 


And if the wine be good, our praises shall be ample. 
But do not give too very small a sample ; 

For, if its quality I decide, 

With a good mouthful I must be supplied. 


ALTMAYER (aside). 
They ’re from the Rhine! I guessed as much, before. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Bring me a gimlet here! 


BRANDER. 


What shall therewith be done? 
You ’ve not the casks already at the door? 


ALTMAYER. 


Yonder, within the landlord’s box of tools, there ’s 
one ! 


94 FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (éakes the gimict). 
(Zo FROSCH.) 
Now, give me of your taste some intimation. 


FROSCH. 
How do you mean? Have you so many kinds ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
The choice is free: make up your minds. 


ALTMAYER (fo FRoSCH). 
Aha! you lick your chops, from sheer anticipation. 


FROSCH. 
Good! if I have the choice, so let the wine be 


Rhenish ! 
Our Fatherland can best the sparkling cup replenish. 


MEPHISTOPHELES 


(boring a hole in the edge of the table, at the place where 
FROSCH s#és). 


Get me a little wax, to make the stoppers, quick! 


ALTMAYER. 
Ah! I perceive a juggler’s trick. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (fo BRANDER). 
And you? 


BRANDER. 


Champagne shall be my wine. 
And let it sparkle fresh and fine! 





SCENE V. 95 
MEPHISTOPHELES 
foores: in the mean time one has made the wax stoppers, and 
plugged the holes with them). 
BRANDER. 


What ’s foreign one can’t always keep quite clear of, 
For good things, oft, are not so near; 

A German can’t endure the French to see or hear of,® 
Yet drinks their wines with hearty cheer. 


SIEBEL 
(as MEPHISTOPHELES approaches his seat). 


For me, I grant, sour wine is out of place; 
Fill up my glass with sweetest, will you? 


MEPHISTOPHELES (boring). 
Tokay shall flow at once, to fill you! 


ALTMAYER. 


No—look me, Sirs, straight in the face! 
I see you have your fun at our expense. 


MEPHISTOPHELES, 


O no! with gentlemen of such pretence, 
That were to venture far, indeed. 

Speak out, and make your choice with speed! 
With what a vintage can I serve you? 


ALTMAYER. 
With any —only satisfy our need. 


(After the holes have been bored and plugged.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES 
(with singular gestures). 
Grapes the vine-stem bears, 

Horns the he-goat wears ! 








96 FAUST. 


The grapes are juicy, the vines are wood, 
The wooden table gives wine as good ! 
Into the depths of Nature peer, — 

Only believe, there ’s a miracle here! 


Now draw the stoppers, and drink your fill! ® 


ALL 


las they draw out the stoppers, and the wine which has been 
desired flows into the glass of each). 


O beautiful fountain, that flows at will! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
But have a care, that you nothing spill! 
( They drink repeatedly.) 


ALL (sing). 
As ’t were five hundred hogs, we feel 
So cannibalic jolly! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
See, now, the race is happy — it is free! 


FAUST. 
To leave them is my inclination. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Take notice, first! their bestiality 
Will make a brilliant demonstration. 


SIEBEL 
\drinks carelessly: the wine spills upon the earth, and turns te 
flame). 
Help! Fire! Help! Hell-fire is sent! 


SCENE V. 97 


MEPHISTOPHELES 
(charming away the flame). 
Be quiet, friendly element! 
( Zo the revellers.) 
A bit of purgatory ’t was for this time, merely. 


SIEBEL. 
What mean you? Wait!— you ’Il pay for ’t dearly! 
You ’ll know us, to your detriment. 

FROSCH. 
Don’t try that game a second time upon us! 


ALTMAYER. 
I think we ’d better send him packing quietly. 


SIEBEL,. 


What, Sir! you dare to make so free, 
And play your hocus-pocus on us! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Be still, old wine-tub. 
SIEBEL. 
Broomstick, you! 
You face it out, impertinent and heady? 
BRANDER. 
Just wait! a shower of blows is ready. 


ALTMAYER 
(draws a stopper out of the table: fire fltes in his face). 
Iburn! 1 burn! 
SIEBEL. 
*T is magic! Strike— 

The knave is outlawed! Cut him as you like! 
( They draw their knives, and rush upon MEPHISTOPHELES.) 

VOL. 1. 5 : 


98 FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES 
(with solemn gestures). 


False word and form of air, 
Change place, and sense ensnare! ™ 
Be here — and there! 


(Zhey stand amased and look at each other.) 


ALTMAYER. 
Where am I? What a lovely land! 


FROSCH. 
Vines? Can I trust my eyes? 


SIEBEL. 
And purple grapes ar hand! 


BRANDER. 
Here, over this green arbor bending, 
See, what a vine ! what grapes depending! 


(He takes SIEBEL by the nose: the others do the came rtcipro- 
cally, and raise their knives.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES (as above). 
Loose, Error, from their eyes the band, 
And how the Devil jests, be now enlightened ! 


(He disappears with FAUST: the revellers start and separate.) 


SIEBEL. 
What happened ? 
ALTMAYER. 
How? 


FROSCH. 
Was that your nose I tightened? 


SCENE V. 99 


BRANDER (/o SIEBEL). 
And yours that still I have in hand? 


ALTMAYER. 
It was a blow that went through every limb! 
Give me a chair! I sink! my senses swim. 
FROSCH. . 
But what has happened, tell me now? 


SIEBEL. 

Where is he? If I catch the scoundrel hiding, 
He shall not leave alive, I vow. 

ALTMAYER. 
I saw him with these eyes upon a wine-cask riding 
Out of the cellar-door, just now. 
Still in my feet the fright like lead is weighing. 

(He turns towards the table ) 

Why! If the fount of wine should still be playing ? 


SIEBEL. 
*T was all deceit, and lying, false design ! 
FROSCH. 


And yet it seemed as I were drinking wine. 


BRANDER. 
But with the grapes how was it, pray ? 


ALTMAYER. 
Shall one believe no miracles, just say ! 


100 FAUST. 


VI. 


WITCHES’ KITCHEN.'s 


[Upon a low hearth stands a great caldron, under which a five 
ts burning. Various figures appear in the vapors which 
vise from the caldron. An ape sits beside it, skims tt, and 
watches lest it boil over. The he-ape, with the young ones, 
sits near and warms himself. Ceiling and walls are covercd 
with the most fantastic witch-implements.| 


FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. 


FAUST. 


6b ecto crazy signs of witches’ craft repel me! 
I shall recover, dost thou tell me, 

Through this insane, chaotic play? 

From an old hag shall I demand assistance ? 

And will her foul mess take away 

Full thirty years from my existence ? ® 

Woe’s me, canst thou naught better find! 
Another baffled hope must be lamented : 

Has Nature, then, and has a noble mind 

Not any potent balsam yet invented? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Once more, my friend, thou talkest sensibly. 
There is, to make thee young, a simpler mode and apter; 
But in another book ’t is writ for thee, 
And is a most eccentric chapter. 


FAUST. 
Yet will I know it. 


SCENE VI. roi 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Good! the method is revealed 
Without or gold or magic or physician. 
Betake thyself to yonder field, 
There hoe and dig, as thy condition ; 
Restrain thyself, thy sense and will 
Within a narrow sphere to flourish ; 
With unmixed food thy body nourish ; 
Live with the ox as ox, and think it not a theft 
That thou manur’st the acre which thou reapest ; — 
That, trust me, is the best mode left, 
Whereby for eighty years thy youth thou keepest ! 


FAUST. 


I am not used to that; I cannot stoop to try it — 
To take the spade in hand, and ply it. 
The narrow being suits me not at all. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Then to thine aid the witch must call, 


FAUST. 


Wherefore the hag, and her alone? 
Canst thou thyself not brew the potion? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


That were a charming sport, I own: 

I’d build a thousand bridges meanwhile, I’ve a notion, 
Not Art and Science serve, alone ; 

Patience must in the work be shown. 

Long is the calm brain active in creation ; 

Time, only, strengthens the fine fermentation. 

And all, belonging thereunto, 

Is rare and strange, howe’er you take it. 

The Devil taught the thing, ’t is true, 

And yet the Devil cannot make it. 


102 FAUST. 


( Perceiving the Animals.) 
See, what a delicate race they be! 
That is the maid! the man is he! 


(Zo the Animals.) 
It seems the mistress has gone away? 


THE ANIMALS. 


Carousing, to-day ! 
Off and about, 
By the chimney out! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
What time takes she for dissipating ? 


THE ANIMALS. 
While we to warm our paws are waiting. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (fo FAUST). 
How findest thou the tender creatures ? 


FAUST. 
Absurder than I ever yet did see. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Why, just such talk as this, for me, 
Is that which has the most attractive features ! 


(Zo the Animals.) 
But tell me now, ye curséd puppets, 
Why do ye stir the porridge so? 
THE ANIMALS. 
We're cooking watery soup for beggars.®s 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Then a great public you can show. 


SCENE VI. 103 


THE HE-APE ; 
(comes up and fawns on MEPHISTOPHELES). 


O cast thou the dice! 

Make me rich in a trice, 
Let me win in good season! 
Things are badly controlled, 
And had I but gold, 

So had I my reason. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
How would the ape be sure his luck enhances, 
Could he but try the lottery’s chances ! 
(7 the mean time the young apes have been playing witn a 
large ball, which they now roll forward.) 


THE HE-APE. 


The world ’s the ball: 
Doth rise and fall, 
And roll incessant : 
Like glass doth ring, 
A hollow thing, — 
How soon will ’t spring, 
And drop, quiescent? 
Here bright it gleams, 
Here brighter seems: 
I live at present! 
Dear son, I say, 
Keep thou away ! 
Thy doom is spoken ! 
T is made of clay, 
And will be broken. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
‘What means the sieve ? 


104 FAUST. 


THE HE-APE (taking tt down). 
Wert thou the thief,™ 
I’d know him and shame him. 


(He runs to the SHE-APE, and lets her look through it.) 
Look through the sieve! 


Know’st thou the thief, 
And darest not name him ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES (approaching the fire). 
And what ’s this pot? 


HE-APE AND SHE-APE. 
The fool knows it not! 
He knows not the pot, 
He knows not the kettle ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Impertinent beast ! 


THE HE-APE. 
Take the brush here, at least, 
And sit down on the settle! 
(He invites MEPHISTOPHELES /o sit down.) 


FAUST 


(who during all this time has been standing before a mirror, now 
approaching and now retreating from it). 

What do I see? What heavenly form revealed ® 

Shows through the glass from Magic’s fair dominions ! 

O lend me, Love, the swiftest of thy pinions, 

And bear me to her bequteous field ! 

Ah, if I leave this spot with fond designing, 

If I attempt to venture near, 

Dim, as through gathering mist, her charms appear ! — 


SCENE VI. 105 


A woman’s form, in beauty shining! 

Can woman, then, so lovely be? 

And must I find her body, there reclining, 
Of all the heavens the bright epitome ? 
Can Earth with such a thing be mated? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Why, surely, if a God first plagues Himself six days, 
Then, self-contented, Bravo / says, 
Must something clever be created. 
This time, thine eyes be satiate! 
I'll yet detect thy sweetheart and ensnare her, 
And blest is he, who has the lucky fate, 
Some day, as bridegroom, home to bear her. 

(FAUST guses continually in the mirror. MEPHISTOPHELES, 
stretching himself out on the settle, and playing with the brush, 
continues to speak.) 

So sit 1, like the King upon his throne: 
I hold the sceptre, here, — and lack the crown alone. 


THE ANIMALS 
(who up to this time have been making all kinds of fantastic 
movements together, bring a crown to MEPHISTOPHELFS 
with great noise). 
O be thou so good 
With sweat and with blood 
The crown to belime ! 
(They handle the crown awkwardly and break it into two 
pieces, with which they spring around.) 
*T is done, let it be! 
We speak and we see, 
We hear and we rhyme! ® 


FAUST (before the mirror). 


Woe ’s me! I fear to lose my wits. 
5 * 


106 FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (fotnting to the Animals). 
My own head, now, is really nigh to sinking. 


THE ANIMALS. 


If lucky our hits, 
And everything fits, 
’T is thoughts, and we ’re thinking! 


FAUST (as above). 


My bosom burns with that sweet vision ; 
Let us, with speed, away from here! 


MEPHISTOPHELES (i the same attitude). 


One must, at least, make this admission — 

They ’re poets, genuine and sincere. 

( Zhe caldvron, which the SHEZAPE has up to this time neglected 
to watch, begins to boil over: there ensues a great flame, 
which blazes out the chimney. The WITCH comes careering 
down through the flame, with terrible cries.) 


THE WITCH. 


Ow! ow! ow! ow! 

The damnéd beast — the curséd sow! 
To leave the kettle, and singe the Frau! 
Accurséd fere ! 


( Perceiving FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES. ) 


What is that here ? 

Who are you here? 

What want you thus? 

Who sneaks to us? 

The fire-pain 

Burn bone and brain! 

(She plunges the skimming-ladle into the caldron, and scatters 

flames towards FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, and the Ani- 
mals. The Animals whimper.) 


SCENE VI. 107 


MEPHISTOPHELES 
Iveversing the brush, which he has been holding in his hand, 
and striking among the jars and glasses). 
In two! in two! 
There lies the brew! 
There lies the glass! 
The joke will pass, 
As time, foul ass ! 
To the singing of thy crew. 


(4s the WITCH starts back, full of wrath and horror :) 


Ha! know’st thou me? Abomination, thou! 
Know’st thou, at last, thy Lord and Master? 
What hinders me from smiting now 

Thee and thy monkey-sprites with fell disaster? 
Hast for the scarlet coat no reverence? 

Dost recognize no more the tall cock’s-feather ? 
Have I concealed this countenance ? — 

Must tell my name, old face of leather? 


THE WITCH. 
O pardon, Sir, the rough salute ! 
Yet I perceive no cloven foot ; 
And both your ravens, where are ¢hey now? 


. MEPHISTOPHELES. 


This time, I ’li let thee scape the debt; 

For since we two together met, 

'T is verily full many a day now. 

Culture, which smooth the whole world licks, 

Also unto the Devil sticks. 

The days of that old Northern phantom now are over: 
Where canst thou horns and tail and claws discover? 
And, as regards the foot, which I can’t spare, in truth, 
'T would only make the people shun me; 


108 FAUST. 


Therefore I ’ve worn, like many a spindly youth, 
Falge calves these many years upon me. 


THE WITCH (dancing). 
Reason and sense forsake my brain, 
Since I behold Squire Satan here again! 


_ MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Woman, from such a name refrain! 


THE WITCH. 
Why so? What has it done to thee? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


It’s long been written in the Book of Fable; ® 
Yet, therefore, no whit better men we see: 

The Evil One has left, the evil ones are stable. 
Sir Baron call me thou, then is the matter good; 
A cavalier am I, like others in my bearing. 
Thou hast no doubt about my noble blood : 

See, here ’s the coat-of-arms that I am wearing! 


(He makes an indecent gesture.) 


THE WITCH (laughs immoderately). 


Ha! ha! That’s just your way, I know: 
A rogue you are, and you were always so. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (¢o FAUST). 
My friend, take proper heed, I pray ! 
To manage witches, this is just the way. 
THE WITCH. 
Wherein, Sirs, can I be of use? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Give us a goblet of the well-known juice! 


SCENE VI. 109 


But, I must beg you, of the oldest brewage ; 
The years a double strength produce. 


THE WITCH. 
With all my heart! Now, here’s a bottle, 
Wherefrom, sometimes, I wet my throttle, 
Which, also, not the slightest, stinks ; 
And willingly a glass I'll fill him. 

( Whispering.) 

Yet, if this man without due preparation drinks, 
As well thou know’st, within an hour ’t will kill him. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
He is a friend of mine, with whom it will agree, 
And he deserves thy kitchen’s best potation : 
Come, draw thy circle, speak thine adjuration, 
And fill thy goblet full and free! 


THE WITCH 


(uth fantastic gestures draws a circleand places mysterious ar- 


ticles therein ; meanwhile the glasses begin to ring, the caldron 
to sound, and make a musical accompaniment. Finally she 
brings a great book, and stations in the circle the Apes, who 
are obliged to serve as reading-desk, and to hold the torches. 
She then beckons Faust to approach). 


FAUST (to MEPHISTOPHELES). 
Now, what shall come of this? the creatures antic, 
The crazy stuff, the gestures frantic, — 
All the repulsive cheats I view, — 
Are known to me, and hated, too. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


O, nonsense! That’s a thing for laughter ; 
Don’t be so terribly severe ! ) 





110 . FAUST: 


She juggles you as doctor now, that, after, 
The beverage may work the proper cheer. 


(He persuades FAUST to step into the circle.) 


THE WITCH 
(begins to declaim, with much emphasis, from the book). 
See, thus it’s done! 
Make ten of one, 
And two let be, 
Make even three, 
And rich thou ’lt be. 
Cast o’er the four! 
From five and six 
(The witch’s tricks) 
Make seven and eight, 
’T is finished straight! 
And nine is one, 
And ten is none. 
This is the witch’s once-one’s-one |? 


FAUST. 
She talks like one who raves in fever. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Thou ’It hear much more before we leave her. 
*T is all the same: the book I can repeat, 
Such time I ’ve squandered o’er the history : 
A contradiction thus complete * 

Is always for the wise, no less than fools, a mystery. 
The art is old and new, for verily 

All ages have been taught the matter, — 

By Three and One, and One and Three, 
Error instead of Truth to scatter. 

They prate and teach, and no one interferes ; 
All from the fellowship of fools are shrinking. 


SCENE V1. 1uy 


Man usually believes, if only words he hears, 
That also with them goes material for thinking! 


THE WITCH (continues), 
The lofty skill 
Of Science, still 
From all men deeply hidden! 
Who takes no thought, 
To him ’tis brought, 
’T is given unsought, unbidden ! 


FAUST. 


What nonsense she declaims before us! 
My head is nigh to split, I fear: 

It seems to me as if I hear 

A hundred thousand fools in chorus. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


O Sibyl excellent, enough of adjuration ! 
But hither bring us thy potation, 
And quickly fill the beaker to the brim! 
This drink will bring my friend no injuries : 
He is a man of manifold degrees, 
And many draughts are known to him. 
(Zhe WITCH, with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a 
cup; as FAUST sets it to his lips, a light flame arises.) 
Down with it quickly! Drain it off! 
*T will warm thy heart with new desire: 
Art with the Devil hand and glove, 
And wilt thou be afraid of fire ? 


(Zhe W1iTCH breaks the circle: Faust steps forth.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES, 
And now, away! Thou dar’st not rest. 


¥I2 FAUST. 


THE WITCH. 
And much good may the liquor do thee! 


MEPHISTOPHELES (fo the WITCH). 


Thy wish be on Walpurgis Night expressed ; 
What boon I have, shall then be given unto thee. 


THE WITCH. 


Here is a song, which, if you sometimes sing, 
You’ll find it of peculiar operation. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (to Faust). 
Come, walk at once! A rapid occupation 
Must start the needful perspiration, 
And through thy frame the liquor’s potence fling. 
The noble indolence 1 ’ll teach thee then to treasure,* 
Andsoon thou ’It be aware, with keenest thrills of pleasure, 
How Cupid stirs and leaps, on light and restless wing. 


FAUST. 


One rapid glance within the mirror give me, 
How beautiful that woman-form ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
No, no! The paragon of all, believe me, 
Thou soon shalt see, alive and warm. 
(Aside.) 
Thou It find, this drink thy blood compelling, 
Each woman beautiful as Helen! 


SCENE VII. 113 


VII. 


A STREET. 
FAUST. MARGARET ( assing by). 


FAUST. 


AIR lady, let it not offend you, 
That arm and escort I would lend you! 


MARGARET.93 


I’m neither lady, neither fair, 
And home I can go without your care. 


[She releases herself, and ext. 


FAUST. 


By Heaven, the girl is wondrous fair! 

Of all I ’ve seen, beyond compare; 

So sweetly virtuous and pure, 

And yet a little pert, be sure! 

The lip so red, the cheek’s clear dawn, 
I'll not forget while the world rolls on! 
How she cast down her timid eyes, 

Deep in my heart imprinted lies: 

How short and sharp of speech was she,™ 
Why, ’t was a real ecstasy ! 


(MEPHISTOPHELES enters.\ 


FAUST. 


Hear, of that girl 1d have possession ! 
H 


114 


FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Which, then ? 
FAUST. 


The one who just went by. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


She, there? She’s coming from confession, 
Of every sin absolved; for I, 

Behind her chair, was listening nigh. 

So innocent is she, indeed, 

That to confess she had no need. 

I have no power o’er souls so green. 


FAUST. 
And yet, she’s older than fourteen. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


How now! You’re talking like Jack Rake, 
Who every flower for himself would take, 
And fancies there are no favors more, 

Nor honors, save for him in store; 

Yet always does n’t the thing succeed. 


FAUST. 
Most Worthy Pedagogue, take heed ! 95 
Let not a word of moral law be spoken! 
I claim, I tell thee, all my right ; 
And if that image of delight 
Rest not within mine arms to-night, 
At midnight is our compact broken. 


MEPHISTOPLELES. 
But think, the chances of the case! 
I need, at least, a fortnight’s space, 
To find an opportune occasion. 


SCENE VII. 115 


FAUST. 

Had I but seven hours for all, 
I should not on the Devil call, 
But win her by my own persuasion. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 
You almost like a Frenchman prate ; 
Yet, pray, don’t take it as annoyance! 
Why, all at once, exhaust the joyance? 
Your bliss is by no means so great 
As if you’d use, to get control, 
All sorts of tender rigmarole, 
And knead and shape her to your thought, 
As in Italian tales ’t is taught.* 


FAUST. 
Without that, I have appetite. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


But now, leave jesting out of sight! 
I tell you, once for all, that speed 
With this fair girl will not succeed ; 
By storm she cannot captured be; 
We must make use of strategy. 


FAUST. 
Get me something the angel keeps ! 
Lead me thither where she sleeps ! 
Get me a kerchief from her breast, — 
A garter that her knee has pressed! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
That you may see how much I ’d fain 
Further and satisfy your pain, 
We will no longer lose a minute ; 
Ill find her room to-day, and take you in it. 


116 FAUST. 


FAUST. 
And shall I see — possess her ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
No! 


Unto a neighbor she must go, 

And meanwhile thou, alone, mayst glow 
With every hope of future pleasure, 
Breathing her atmosphere in fullest measure. 


FAUST. 
Can we go thither ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
’T is too early yet. 


FAUST. 
A gift for her I bid thee get! 
[Zxit. 
MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Presents at once? That’s good: he’s certain to get at 


her ! 
Full many a pleasant place I know, 
And treasures, buried long ago: 
I must, perforce, look up the matter. 


SCENE VIII. 117 


VIII. 
EVENING. 
A SMALL, NEATLY KEPT CHAMBER. 


MARGARET 
( plaiting and binding up the braids of her hair). 
I ’D something give, could I but say 
Who was that gentleman, to-day. 
Surely a gallant man was he, 
And of a noble family ; 
So much could I in his face behold, — 
And he would n’t, else, have been so bold ! 
[Lxst 
MEPHISTOPHELES. FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Come in, but gently: follow me! 


FAUST (after a moment's silence). 
Leave me alone, I beg of thee! 


MEPHISTOPHELES (frying about). 
Not every girl keeps things so neat. 


FAUST (looking around). 
O welcome, twilight soft and sweet,” 
That breathes throughout this hallowed shrine! 
Sweet pain of love, bind thou with fetters fleet 
The heart that on the dew of hope must pine! 


118 FAUST. 


How all around a sense impresses 

Of quiet, order, and content ! 

This poverty what bounty blesses |! 

What bliss within this narrow den is pent! 


(He throws himself into a leathern arm-chair near the bed.) 


Receive me, thou, that in thine open arms 
Departed joy and pain wert wont to gather! 
How oft the children, with their ruddy charms, 
Hung here, around this throne, where sat the father! 
Perchance my love, amid the childish band, 
Grateful for gifts the Holy Christmas gave her, 
Here meekly kissed the grandsire’s withered hand. 
I feel, O maid! thy very soul 
Of order and content around me whisper, — 
Which leads thee with its motherly control, 
The cloth upon thy board bids smoothly thee unroll, 
The sand beneath thy feet makes whiter, crisper. 
O dearest hand, to thee ’t is given 
To change this hut into a lower heaven! 
And here! 

(He lifts one of the bed-curtains.) 


What sweetest thrill is in my blood! 
Here could I spend whole hours, delaying: 
Here Nature shaped, as if in sportive playing, 
The angel blossom from the bud. 


Here lay the child, with Life’s warm essence 

The tender bosom filled and fair, 

And here was wrought, through holier, purer presence, 
The form diviner beings wear! 


And I? What drew me here with power? 
How deeply am I moved, this hour! 


SCENE VIII. 119 


What seek I? Why so full my heart, and sore? 
Miserable Faust! I know thee now no more. 


Is there a magic vapor here? 

I came, with lust of instant pleasure, 

And lie dissolved in dreams of love’s sweet leisure ! 
Are we the sport of every changeful atmosphere ? 


And if, this moment, came she in to me, 
How would I for the fault atonement render ! 
How small the giant lout would be, 

Prone at her feet, relaxed and tender! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Be quick! I see her there, returning. 


FAUST. 
Go! go! I never will retreat. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Here is a casket, not unmeet, 

Which elsewhere I have just been earning. 
Here, set it in the press, with haste! 

I swear, ’t will turn her head, to spy it: 
Some baubles I therein had placed, 

That you might win another by it. 

True, child is child, and play is play. 


FAUST. 
I know not, should I do it?* 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Ask you, pray? 
Yourself, perhaps, would keep the bubble ? 
Then I suggest, ’t were fair and just 


120 FA UST. 


To spare the lovely day your lust, 

And spare to me the further trouble. 
You are not miserly, I trust? 

I rub my hands, in expectation tender ~ 


(He places the cashet in the press, and locks it again.) 


Now quick, away ! 
The sweet young maiden to betray, 
So that by wish and will you bend her ; 
And you look as though 
To the lecture-hall you were forced to go, — 
As if stood before you, gray and loath, 
Physics and Metaphysics both! 
But away ! 
[ Excuct 
MARGARET (with a lamp). 


It is so close, so sultry, here! 
(She opens the window.) 


And yet ’t is not so warm outside. 

I feel, I know not why, such fear ! — 
Would mother came !— where can she bide? 
My body ’s chill and shuddering, — 

I ’m but a silly, fearsome thing! 


(She begins to sing, while undressing.) 


There was a King in Thule,» 
Was faithful till the grave, — 
Te whom his mistress, dying, 
A golden goblet gave. 


Naught was to him more precious ; 
He drained it at every bout: 
His eyes with tears ran over, 
As oft as he drank thereout. 


SCENE VII. 122 


When came his time of dying, 
The towns in his land he told, 
Naught else to his heir denying 
Except the goblet of gold. 


He sat at the royal banquet 
With his knights of high degree, 
In the lofty hall of his fathers 
In the Castle by the Sea. 


There stood the old carouser, 
And drank the last life-glow , 
And hurled the hallowed goblet 
Into the tide below. 


He saw it plunging and filling, 
And sinking deep in the sea: 
Then fell his eyelids forever, 
And never more drank he! 


(She opens the press in order to arrange her clothes, and per 
cetves the casket of jewels.) 


How comes that lovely casket here to me? 

I locked the press, most certainly. 

T is truly wonderful! What can within it be? 
Perhaps ’t was brought by some one as a pawn, 
And mother gave a loan thereon? 

And here there hangs a key to fit: 

I have a mind to open it. 

What is that? God in Heaven! Whence came 
Such things? Never beheld I aught so fair! 
Rich ornaments, such as a noble dame 

On highest holidays might wear! 

How would the pearl-chain suit my hair? 

Ah, who may all this splendor own? 

VOL. I. 6 


ae FAUST. 


(Ske adorns herself with the jewelry, and steps before the 
mirror.) 
Were but the ear-rings mine, a'one! 
One has at once another air. 
What helps one’s beauty, youthful blood ? 
One may possess them, well and good; 
But none the more do others care. 
They praise us half in pity, sure: 
To gold still tends, 
On gold depends 


All, all! Alas, we poor! 


SCENE IX. 123 


IX. 


PROMENADE. 


(Faust, walking thoughtfully up and down. To him MEPHis- 
TOPHELES.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
B* all love ever rejected! By hell-fire hot and un 
sparing ! 
I wish I knew something worse, that I might use it for 
swearing ! 
FAUST. 
What ails thee? What is ’t gripes thee, elf? 
A face like thine beheld I never. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


I would myself unto the Devil deliver, 
If I were not a Devil myself! 


FAUST. 


Thy head is out of order, sadly: 
It much becomes thee to be raving madly. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Just think, the pocket of a priest should get 
The trinkets left for Margaret! 

The mother saw them, and, instanter, 

A secret dread began to haunt her. © 

Keen scent has she for tainted air; 

She snuffs within her book of prayer, 


124 FAUST. 


And smells each article, to see 

If sacred or profane it be; 

So here she guessed, from every gem, 
That not much blessing came with them. 
“‘ My child,” she said, “ill-gotten good 
Ensnares the soul, consumes the blood. 
Before the Mother of God well lay it; 
With heavenly manna she ’ll repay it!” = 
But Margaret thought, with sour grimace, 
“A gift-horse is not out of place, 

And, truly! godless cannot be 

The one who brought such things to me.” 
A parson came, by the mother bidden: 
He saw, at once, where the game was hidden, 
And viewed it with a favor stealthy. 

He spake: “ That is the proper view, — 
Who overcometh, winneth too. 

The Holy Church has a stomach healthy: 
Hath eaten many a land as forfeit, 

And never yet complained of surfeit: 

The Church alone, beyond all question, 
Has for ill-gotten goods the right digestion.” 


FAUST. 


A general practice is the same, 
Which Jew and King may also claim. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Then bagged the spangles, chains, and rings, 
As if but toadstools were the things, 

And thanked no less, and thanked no more 
Than if a sack of nuts he bore, — 

Promised them fullest heavenly pay, 

And deeply edified were they. 


SCENE IX, 135 


FAUST. 
And Margaret? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Sits unrestful still, 
And knows not what she should, or will; 
Thinks on the jewels, day and night, 
But more on him who gave her such delight. 


FAUST. 
The darling’s sorrow gives me pain. 
Get thou a set for her again! 
The first was not a great display. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
O yes, the gentleman finds it all child’s-play ! 


FAUST. 
Fix and arrange it to my will; 
And on her neighbor try thy skill! 
Don’t be a Devil stiff as paste, 
But get fresh jewels to her taste! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Yes, gracious Sir, in all obedience! 

[Exit Faust 
Such an enamored fool in air would blow 
Sun, moon, and all the starry legions, 


To give his sweetheart a diverting show. 
[ Zxit 


126 FAUST. 


X. 


THE NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE. 


MARTHA (sous). 
Ce forgive my husband, yet he 
Has n’t done his duty by me! 
Off in the world he went straightway, — 
Left me lie in the straw where I lay, 
And, truly, I did naught to fret him: 
God knows I loved, and can’t forget him! 
(She weeps.) 
Perhaps he’s even dead! Ah, woe! — 
Had I a certificate to show! 


MARGARET (comes). 
Dame Martha! 
MARTHA. 


Margaret! what ’s happened thee? 


MARGARET. 
I scarce can stand, my knees are trembling! 
I find a box, the first resembling, 
Within my press! Of ebony, — 
And things, all splendid to behold, 
And richer far than were the old. : 


MARTHA. 


You must n’t tell it to your mother! 
’T would go to the priest, as did the other. 





SCENE X. 127 


MARGARET. 
Ah, look and see — just look and see! 


MARTHA (adorning her). 
O, what a blessed luck for thee! 


MARGARET. 


But,gh ! in the streets I dare not bear them, 
Nor in the church be seen to wear them 


MARTHA. 


Yet thou canst often this way wander, 

And secretly the jewels don, 

Walk up and down an hour, before the mirror yonder, — 
We'll have our private joy thereon. 

And then a chance will come, a holiday, 

When, piece by piece, can one the things abroad display, 
A chain at first, then other ornament: 

Thy mother will not see, and stories we ’ll invent. 


MARGARET. 


Whoever could have brought me things so precious ? 
That something ’s wrong, I feel suspicious. 


(A knock.) 
Good Heaven! My mother can that have been? 


MARTHA (feeping through the blind). 
"T is some strange gentleman. — Come in! 


(MEPHISTOPHELES enters.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


That I so boldly introduce me, 
I beg you, ladies, to excuse me. 


128 


FAUST. 


(Steps back reverently, on seeing MARGARET.) 
For Martha Schwerdtlein I ’d inquire! 


MARTHA. 
I’m she: what does the gentleman desire? 


MEPHISTOPHELES (aside fo her). 
It is enough that you are she: 
You ’ve a visitor of high degree. 
Pardon the freedom I have ta’en, — 
Will after noon return again. 


MARTHA (aloud). 


Of all things in the world! Just hear — 
He takes thee for a lady, dear! 


MARGARET. 


I am a creature young and poor: 
The gentleman ’s too kind. I ’m sure. 
The jewels don’t belong to me. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Ah, not alone the jewelry! 
The look, the manner, both betray — 
Rejoiced am I that I may stay! 


MARTHA. 
What is your business? 1 would fain — 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
J would I had a more cheerful strain ! 
Take not unkindly its repeating : 
Your husband ’s dead, and sends a greeting. 


SCENE X. “129 


MARTHA. 


Is dead? Alas, that heart so true! 
My husband dead! Let me die, too! 


MARGARET. 
Ah, dearest dame, let not your courage fail ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Hear me relate the mournful tale! 


MARGARET. 


Therefore I ’d never love, believe me! 
A loss like this to death would grieve me. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Joy follows woe, woe after joy comes flying. 


MARTHA. 
Relate his life’s sad close to me! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


In Padua buried, he is lying 
Beside the good Saint Antony,'= 
Within a grave well consecrated, 
For cool, eternal rest created. 


MARTHA. 
He gave you, further, no commission ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Yes, one of weight, with many sighs: 
Three hundred masses buy, to save him from perdition ! 
My hands are empty, otherwise. 
6* 1 


130 FAUST. 


MARTHA. 
What! Nota pocket-piece? no jewelry? 
What every journeyman within his wallet spares, 
And as a token with him bears, 
And rather starves or begs, than loses ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Madan, it is a grief to me; 
Yet, on my word, his cash was put to proper uses. 


Besides, his penitence was very sore, 
And he lamented his ill fortune all the more. 


MARGARET. 


Alack, that men are so unfortunate ! 
Surely for his soul’s sake full many a prayer I ’1l proffer. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


You well deserve a speedy marriage-offer : 
You are so kind, compassionate. 


MARGARET. 
O, no! As yet, it would not do. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


If not a husband, then a beau for you! 
It is the greatest heavenly blessing, 
To have a dear thing for one’s caressing. 


MARGARET. 
The country’s custom is not so. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Custom, or not! It happens, though. 


3 


SCENE X. 131 


MARTHA. 

Continue, pray ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

I stood beside his bed of dying. 
'T was something better than manure, — 
Half-rotten straw: and yet, he died a Christian, sure, 
And found that heavier scores to his account were lying, 
He cried: “I find my conduct wholly hateful! 
To leave my wife, my trade, in manner so ungrateful ! 
Ah, the remembrance makes me die! 
Would of my wrong to her I might be shriven !” 


MARTHA (weeping). 
The dear, good man! Long since was he forgiven. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
“Yet she, God knows! was more to blame than I.” 


MARTHA. 
He lied! What! On the brink of death he slandered 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
In the last throes his senses wandered, 
If I such things but half can judge. 
He said: “I had no time for play, for gaping freedom: 
First children, and then work for bread to feed ’em, — 
For bread, in the widest sense, to drudge, 
And could not even eat my share in peace and quiet!” 


MARTHA. 


Had he all love, all faith forgotten in his riot ? 
My work and worry, day and night? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Not so: the memory of it touched him quite. 
Said he: “ When I from Malta went away 





132 FAUST. 


My prayers for wife and little ones were zealous, 
And such a luck from Heaven befell us, 

We made a Turkish merchantman our prey, 
That to the Soldan bore a mighty treasure. 
Then I received, as was most fit, 

Since bravery was paid in fullest measure, 

My well-apportioned share of it.” 


MARTHA. 
Say, how? Say, where? If buried, did he own it? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Who knows, now, whither the four winds have blown it} 
A fair young damsel took him in her care, 

As he in Naples wandered round, unfriended ; 

And she much love, much faith to him did bear, 

So that he felt it till his days were ended. 


MARTHA. 
The villain! From his children thieving! 
Even all the misery on him cast 
Could not prevent his shameful way of living ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
But see! He’s dead therefrom, at last. 
Were I in your place, do not doubt me, 
I ’d mourn him decently a year, 
And for another keep, meanwhile, my eyes about me. 


MARTHA. 


Ah, God! another one so dear 

As was my first, this world will hardly give me. 
There never was a sweeter fool than mine, 
Only he loved to roam and leave me, 

And foreign wenches and foreign wine, 

And the damned throw of dice, indeed. 





SCENE X. 133 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Well, well! That might have done, however, 
If he had only been as clever, 
And treated your slips with as little heed. 
I swear, with this condition, too, 
1 would, myself, change rings with you. 


MARTHA. 
The gentleman is pleased to jest. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (aside). 
I ll cut away, betimes, from here : 
She ’d take the Devil at his word, I fear. 
(Zo MARGARET.) 
How fares the heart within your breast? 


MARGARET. 
What means the gentleman? 


MEPHISTOPHELES (aside). 
Sweet innocent, thou art! 


Aloud. 
Ladies, farewell! 


MARGARET. 
Farewell ! 


MARTHA. 
A moment, ere we part! 
I'd like to have a legal witness, 
Where, how, and when he died, to certify with fitness. 
Irregular ways I ’ve always hated ; 
I want his death in the weekly paper stated.'°3 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Yes, my good dame, a pair of witnesses 
Always the truth establishes. 


134 


FA OST. 


I have a friend of high condition, 
Who ’Il also add his deposition. 
I ‘ll bring him here. 


MARTHA. 
Good Sir, pray do! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
And this young lady will be present, too? 
A gallant youth! has travelled far: 
Ladies with him delighted are. 


MARGARET. 
Before him I should blush, ashamed. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Before no king that could be named! 


MARTHA. 


Behind the house, in my garden, then, 
This eve we ’ll expect the gentlemen. 








SCENE X1. 135 


XI. 
STREET. 


FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. 


FAUST. 
H OW is it? under way? and soon complete? 


' MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Ah, bravo! Do I find you burning? 
Well, Margaret soon will still your yearning : 
At Neighbor Martha’s you ’ll this evening meet. 
A fitter woman ne’er was made 
To ply the pimp and gypsy trade! 


FAUST. 
"T is well. 
MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Yet something is required from us. 


FAUST. 
One service pays the other thus. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


We ’ve but to make a deposition valid 
That now her husband’s limbs, outstretched and pallia, 
At Padua rest, in consecrated soil. 


FAUST. 


Most wise! And first, of course, we ’ll make the jour- 
ney thither? 


136 FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Sancta simplicitas / no need of such a toil ; 
Depose, with knowledge or without it, either ! 


FAUST. 
If you ’ve naught better, then, I ’ll tear your pretty plan} 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Now, there you are! O holy man! 

Is it the first time in your life you ’re driven 

To bear false witness in a case? 

Of God, the world and all that in it has a place, 

Of Man, and all that moves the being of his race, 

Have you not terms and definitions given 

With brazen forehead, daring breast? 

And, if you ’ll probe the thing profoundly, 

Knew you so much — and you ’Il confess it roundly ! ~ 
As here of Schwerdtlein’s death and place of restr 


FAUST. 
Thou art, and thou remain’st, a sophist, liar. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Yes, knew I not more deeply thy desire. 
For wilt thou not, no lover fairer, 

Poor Margaret flatter, and ensnare her, 
And all thy soul’s devotion swear her? 


FAUST. 
And from my heart. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


T is very fine! 
Thine endless love, thy faith assuring, 
The one almighty force enduring, — 
Will that, too, prompt this heart of thine? 


SCENE XI. 137 


FAUST. 


Hold! hold! It will!— If such my flame, 

And for the sense and power intense 

I seek, and cannot find, a name ; 

Then range with all my senses through creation, 
Craving the speech of inspiration, 

And call this ardor, so supernal, 

Endless, eternal and eternal, — 

Is that a devilish lying game? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
And yet I’m right! 
FAUST. 
Mark this, I beg of thee! 
And spare my lungs henceforth : whoever 
Intends to have the right, if but his tongue be clever, 
Will have it, certainly. 
But come: the further talking brings disgust, 
For thou art right, especially since I must. 


138 FAUST. 


XIT. 


GARDEN. 


(MARGARET on FAUST’S arm. MARTHA and MEPHISTOPH- 
ELES walking up and down.) 


MARGARET. 


T FEEL, the gentleman ailows for me, 
Demeans himself, and shames me by it; 

A traveller is so used to be 

Kindly content with any diet. 

1 know too well that my poor gossip can 

Ne’er entertain such an experienced man. 


FAUST. 


A look from thee, a word, more entertains 
Than all the lore of wisest brains. 
(He kisses her hand.) 


MARGARET. 


Don’t incommode yourself! How could you ever kiss it! 


It is so ugly, rough to see ! 
What work I do, — how hard and steady is it! 
Mother is much too close with me. 
[ They pass. 


MARTHA. 
And you, Sir, travel always, do you not ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Alas, that trade and duty us so harry! 


SCENE XI. 139 


With what a pang one leaves so many a spot, 
And dares not even now and then to tarry! 


MARTHA. 
In young, wild years it suits your ways, 
This round and round the world in freedom sweeping ; 
But then come on the evil days, 
And so, as bachelor, into his grave a-creeping, 
None ever found a thing to praise. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
I dread to see how such a fate advances. 


MARTHA. 
Then, worthy Sir, improve betimes your chances ! 
[ They pass 
MARGARET. 


Yes, out of sight is out of mind! 
Your courtesy an easy grace is; 

But you have friends in other places, 
And sensibler than I, you ’Il find. 


FAUST. 


Trust me, dear heart! what men call sensible 
Is oft mere vanity and narrowness. 


MARGARET. 
How so? 
FAUST. 
Ah, that simplicity and innocence ne’er know 
Themselves, their holy value, and their spell ! 
That meekness, lowliness, the highest graces 
Which Nature portions out so lovingly — 


140 FAUST. 


MARGARET. 


So you but think a moment’s space on me, 
All times I ’ll have to think on you, all places ! 's 


FAUST. 
No doubt you ’re much alone? 


MARGARET. 


Yes, for our household small has grown, 

Yet must be cared for, you will own. 

We have no maid: I do the knitting, sewing, sweeping, 
The cooking, early work and late, in fact; 

And mother, in her notions of housekeeping, 

Is so exact! . 

Not that she needs so much to keep expenses down: 
We, more than others, might take comfort, rather: 
A nice estate was left us by my father, 

A house, a little garden near the town. 

But now my days have less of noise and hurry ; 

My brother is a soldier, 

My little sister ’s dead. 

True, with the child a troubled life I led, 

Yet I would take again, and willing, all the worry, 
So very dear was she. 


FAUST. 
An angel, if like thee ! 


MARGARET. 


I brought it up, and it was fond of me. 

Father had died before it saw the light, 

And mother’s case seemed hopeless quite, 

So weak and miserable she lay ; 

And she recovered, then, so slowly, day by day. 
She could not think, herself, of giving 


SCENE XI. 141 


The poor wee thing its natural living; 
And so I nursed it all alone 

With milk and water: ’t was my own. 
Lulled in my lap with many a song, 

It smiled, and tumbled, and grew strong. 


FAUST.., 
The purest bliss was surely then thy dower. 


MARGARET. 
But surely, also, many a weary hour. 
I kept the baby’s cradle near 
My bed at night: if ’t even stirred, I ’d guess it, 
And waking, hear. 
And I must nurse it, warm beside me press it, 
And oft, to quiet it, my bed forsake, 
And dandling back and forth the restless creature take, 
Then at the wash-tub stand, at morning’s break ; 
And then the marketing and kitchen-tending, 
Day after day, the same thing, never-ending. 
One’s spirits, Sir, are thus not always good, 
But then one learns to relish rest and food. 
[They pass 
MARTHA. 
Yes, the poor women are bad off, ’t is true: 
A stubborn bachelor there ’s no converting. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


It but depends upon the like of you, 
And I should turn to better ways than flirting. 


MARTHA. 


Speak plainly, Sir, have you no one detected ? 
Has not your heart been anywhere subjected? 


1142 FA OST, 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


The proverb says: One’s own warm hearth 
And a good wife, are gold and jewels worth. 


MARTHA. 
I mean, have you not felt desire, though ne’er so slightly ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
I ’ve everywhere, in fact, been entertained politely. 


MARTHA. 
I meant to say, were you not touched in earnest, ever? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
One should allow one’s self to jest with ladies never. 


MARTHA. 
Ah, you don’t understand ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
I ’m sorry I ’m so blind: 
But I am sure —that you are very kind. 
[ They pass. 
FAUST. 
And me, thou angel! didst thou recognize, 
As through the garden-gate I came? 


MARGARET. 
Did you not see it? I cast down my eyes. 


FAUST. 
And thou forgiv’st my freedom, and the blame 
To my impertinence befitting, 
As the Cathedral thou wert quitting? 


SCENE XII. 143 


MARGARET. 


I was confused, the like ne’er happened me; 
No one could ever speak to my discredit. 

Ah, thought I, in my conduct has he read it— 
Something immcodest or unseemly free? 

He seemed to have the sudden feeling 

That with this wench ’t were very easy dealing. 
I will confess, I knew not what appeal 

On your behalf, here, in my bosom grew ; 

But I was angry with myself, to feel 

That I could not be angrier with you. 


FAUST. 
Sweet darling! 


MARGARET. 
: Wait a while! 
(She plucks a star-flower,* and pulls off the leaves, one after 
the other.) 
FAUST. 
Shall that a nosegay be? 


MARGARET. 
No, it is just in play. 
FAUST. 
How? 


MARGARET. 
Go! you'll laugh at me 


(She pulls off the Leaves and murmurs.) 


PAUST. 
What murmurest thou ? 


144 FAUST. 


MARGARET (half aloud). 
He loves me — loves me not. 


FAUST. 
Thou sweet, angelic soul! 


MARGARET (continues). 
Loves me — not — loves me — not ~ 


(plucking the last leaf, she cries with frank delight :) 
He loves me! 
FAUST. 


Yes, child! and let this blossom-word 
For thee be speech divine! He loves thee! 
Ah, know’st thou what it means? He loves thee! . 


(He grasps both her hands.) 


MARGARET. 

I’m all a-tremble! 
FAUST. 
O tremble not! but let this look, 

Let this warm clasp of hands declare thee 
What is unspeakable! 
To yield one wholly, and to feel a rapture 
In yielding, that must be eternal! 
Eternal !—for the end would be despair. 
No, no, — no ending! no ending ! 


MARTHA (coming forward ). 
The night is falling. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Ay ! we must away. 





VJ 


SCENE XII. 14$ 


MARTHA. 


I ’d ask you, longer here to tarry, 

But evil tongues in this town have full play. 

It’s as if nobody had nothing to fetch and carry,'” 
Nor other labor, 

But spying all the doings of one’s neighbor : 

And one becomes the talk, do whatsoe’er one may. 
Where is our couple now? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Flown up the alley yonder, 
The wilful summer-birds! 


MARTHA. 
He seems of her still fonder. 


MESHISTOPHELES. 
And she of him. So runs the world away! 


VOL. L 





146 FAUST. 


XITI. 


A GARDEN-ARBOR. 


(MARGARET comes in, conceals herself behind the door, puts her 
Singer to her lips, and peeps through the crack.) 


El comes ! 


I have thee! 


MARGARET. 


FAUST (entering). 
Ah, rogue ! a tease thou art: 


(He kisses her.) 
MARGARET 


(clasping him, and returning the kiss). 
Dearest man! I love thee from my heart. 


(MEPHISTOPHELES &ntocks.) 


FAUST (stamping his foot). 
Who’s there ? 
MEPHISTOPHELES. 
A friend! 


FAUST. 
A beast! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
’T is time to separate 


SCENE X11. 147 


MARTHA (coming). 
Yes, Sir, ’t is late. 
FAUST. 
May I not, then, upoa you wait? 


MARGARET. 
My mother would — farewell ! 


FAUST. 
| Ah, car I vot remain ? 
Farewell ! 


' Adieu! 


MARTHA. 


MARGARET. 
And soon to meet again! 
[ Zxeunt FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES; 


MARGARET. 


Dear God! However is it, such 

A man. can think and know so much ? 
I stand ashamed and in amaze, 

And answer “ Yes ” to all he says, 

A poor, unknowing child! and he — 
I can’t think what he finds in me! 


148 FAUST. 


XIV. 


FOREST AND CAVERN. 


FAUST (solus). 


cent sublime, thou gav’st me, gav’st me al] 
For which I prayed. Not unto me in vain 
Hast thou thy countenance revealed in fire. 
Thou gav’st me Nature as a kingdom grand, 
With power to feel and to enjoy it. Thou 

Not only cold, amazed acquaintance yield’st, 

But grantest, that in her profoundest breast 

I gaze, as in the bosom of a friend. 

The ranks of living creatures thou dost lead 
Before me, teaching me to know my brothers 

In air and water and the silent wood. 

And when the storm in forests roars and grinds, 
The giant firs, in falling, neighbor boughs 

And neighbor trunks with crushing weight bear down, 
And falling, fill the hills with hollow thunders, — 
Then to the cave secure thou leadest me, 

Then show’st me mine own self, and in my breast 
The deep, mysterious miracles unfold. 

And when the perfect moon before my gaze 
Comes up with soothing light, around me float 
From every precipice and thicket damp 

The silvery phantoms of the ages past, 

And temper the austere delight of thought. 


That nothing can be perfect unto Man 
I now am conscious. With this ecstasy, 


SCENE XIV. 149 


Which brings me near and nearer to the Gods, 
Thou gav’st the comrade, whom I now no more 
Can do without, though, cold and scurnful, he 
Demeans me to myself, and with a breath, 

A word, transforms thy gifts to nothingness. 
Within my breast he fans a lawless fire, 
Unwearied, for that fair and lovely form: 

Thus in desire I hasten to enjoyment, 

And in enjoyment pine to feel desire. 


(MEPHISTOPHELES enters.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Have you not led this life quite long enough? 
How can a further test delight you? 
’T is very well, that once one tries the stuff, 
But something new must then requite you. 


FAUST. 
Would there were other work for thee ! 
To plague my day auspicious thou returnest. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Well! I ’ll engage to let thee be: 
Thou darest not tell me so in earnest. 
The loss of thee were truly very slight, — 
A comrade crazy, rude, repelling : 
One has one’s hands full all the day and night; 
If what one does, or leaves undone, is right, 
From such a face as thine there is no telling. 


FAUST. 
There is, again, thy proper tone! — 
That thou hast bored me, I must thankful be! 


MEPHISTOPHELES, 
Poor Son of Earth, how couldst thou thus alone 
Have led thy life, bereft of me ? 


150 FAOST. ° 


I, for a time, at least, have worked thy cure; 

Thy fancy’s rickets plague thee not at all: 

Had I not been, so hadst thou, sure, 

Walked thyself off this earthly ball. 

Why here to caverns, rocky hollows slinking, 

Sit’st thou, as ’t were an owl a-blinking ? 

Why suck’st, from sodden moss and dripping stone, 
Toad-like, thy nourishment alone ? 

A fine way, this, thy time to fill! 

The Doctor ’s in thy body still. 


FAUST. 
What fresh and vital forces, canst thou guess, 
Spring from my commerce with the wilderness? 
But, if thou hadst the power of guessing, 
Thou wouldst be devil enough to grudge my soul the 
blessing. " 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


A blessing drawn from supernatural fountains ! 

In night and dew to lie ypon the mountains ; 

All Heaven and Earth in rapture penetrating ; 

Thyself to Godhood haughtily inflating ; 

To grub with yearning force through Earth’s dark 
marrow, 

Compress the six days’ work within thy bosom nar- 
row, +— 

To taste, I know not what, in haughty power, 

Thine own ecstatic life on all things shower, 

Thine earthly self behind thee cast, 

And then the lofty instinct, thus — 


(With a gesture :) 
at last, — 
I dare n’t say how —to pluck the final flower ! 


SCENE XIV. 1st 


FAUST. 
Shame on thee! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Yes, thou findest that unpleasant! 
Thou hast the moral right to cry me “shame!” at present. 
One dares not that before chaste ears declare,'™™ 
Which chaste hearts, notwithstanding, cannot spare; 
And, once for all, I grudge thee not the pleasure 
Of lying to thyself in moderate measure. 
But such a course thou wilt not long endure; 
Already art thou o’er-excited, 
And, if it last, wilt soon be plighted 
To madness and to horror, sure. 
Enough of that! Thy love sits lonely yonder,* 
By all things saddened and oppressed ; 
Her thoughts and yearnings séek thee, tenderer, fonder,— 
A mighty love is in her breast. 
First came thy passion’s flood and poured around her 
As when from melted snow a streamlet overflows; 
Thou hast therewith so filled and drowned her, 
That now /ky stream all shallow shows. 
Methinks, instead of in the forests lording, 
The noble Sir should find it good, 
The love of this young silly blood 
At once to set about rewarding. 
Her time is miserably long; 
She haunts her window, watching clouds that stray 
O’er the old city-wall, and far away. 
“Were I a little bird!” so runs her song,™* 
Day long, and half night long. 
Now she is lively, mostly sad, 
Now, wept beyond her tears; 
Then again quiet she appears, — 
Always love-mad. 


152 - FAUST. 


FAUST. 
Serpent! serpent! 


MEPHISTOPHELES (aside). 
Ha! do I trap thee! 
FAUST. 
Get thee away with thine offences, _ 
Reprobate! Name not that fairest thing, 
Nor the desire for her sweet body bring 
Again before my half-distracted senses ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
What wouldst thou, then? She thinks that thou art 
flown; 
And half and half thou art, I own. 


FAUST. 


Yet am I near, and love keeps watch and ward; 
Though I were ne’er so far, it cannot falter; 

T envy even the Body of the Lord 

The touching of her lips, before the altar. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


"T is very well! AZy envy oft reposes 
On your twin-pair, that feed among the roses." 


FAUST. 
Away, thou pimp! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


You rail, and it is fun to me. 
The God, who fashioned youth and maid, 
Perceived the noblest purpose of His trade, 
And also made their opportunity. 
Goon! It is a woe profound ! 





SCENE XIV. T53 


'T is for your sweetheart’s room you ’re bound, 
And not for death, indeed. 


FAUST. 


What are, within her arms, tne heavenly blisses ? 
Though I be glowing with her kisses, 

Do I not always share her need? 

I am the fugitive, all houseless roaming, 

The monster without aim or rest, 

That like a cataract, down rocks and gorges foaming, 
Leaps, maddened, into the abyss’s breast ! 

And side-wards she, with young unwakened senses, 
Within her cabin on the Alpine field 

Her simple, homely life commences, 

Her little world therein concealed. 

And I, God’s hate flung o’er me, 

Had not enough, to thrust 

The stubborn rocks before me 

And strike them into dust ! 

She and her peace I yet must undermine: 

Thou, Hell, hast claimed this sacrifice as thine! 
Help, Devil! through the coming pangs to push me; 
What must be, let it quickly be! 

Let fall on me her fate, and also crush me, — 

One ruin whelm both her and me ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Again it seethes, again it glows! 
Thou fool, go in and comfort her ! 
When such a head as thine no outlet knows, 
It thinks the end must soon occur. 
Hail him, who keeps a steadfast mind! 
Thou, else, dost well the devil-nature wear: 
Naught so insipid in the world I find 
As is a devil in despair. 

7% 


FAUST, 


XV. 


MARGARET’S ROOM. 


MARGARET "3 
(at the spinning-wheel, alone). 
M Y peace is gone, 
My heart is sore: 


I never shall find it, 
Ah, nevermore ! 


Save I have him near, 
The grave is here; 
The world is gall 

And bitterness all. 


My poor weak head 
Is racked and crazed; 
My thought is lost, 
My senses mazed. 


My peace is gone, 
My heart is sore: 

I never shall find it, 
Ah, nevermore ! 


To see him, him only, 
At the pane I sit; 

To meet him, him only, 
The house I quit. 


SCENE XV. 155 


His lofty gait, 

His noble size, 

The smile of his mouth, 
The power of his eyes, 


And the magic flow 

Of his talk, the bliss 

In the clasp of his hand, 
And, ah! his kiss! 


My peace is gone, 
My heart is sore: 

I never shall find it, 
Ah, nevermore ! 


My bosom yearns 

For him alone ; 

Ah, dared I clasp him, 
And hold, and own! 


And kiss his mouth, 
To heart’s desire, 
And on his kisses 
At last expire ! 


156 FAUST. 


XVL 


MARTHA’S GARDEN. 


MARGARET. FAUST. 


MARGARET. 
pee me, Henry ! — 


FAUST. 
What I can! 


MARGARET. 
How is ’t with thy religion, pray? 
Thou art a dear, good-hearted man, 
And yet, I think, dost not incline that way. 


FAUST. 


Leave that, my child! Thou know’st my iove is tender; 
For love, my blood and life would I surrender, 
And as for Faith and Church, I grant to each his own. 


MARGARET. 
That ’s not enough: we must believe thereon. 


FAUST. 
Must we? 


MARGARET. 


Would that I had some influence! 
Then, too, thou honorest not the Holy Sacraments. 


SCENE XVI. 157 


FAUST. 
I honor them. 


MARGARET. 
Desiring no possession. 
I is long since thou hast been to mass or to confession. 
Believest thou in God? 


FAUST. 
My darling, who shall dare 
“1 believe in God!” to say? 
Ask priest or sage the answer to declare, 
And it will seem a mocking play, 
A sarcasm on the asker. 


MARGARET. 
Then thou believest not! 


FAUST. 
Hear me not falsely, sweetest countenance ! "4 
Who dare express Him? 
And who profess Him, 
Saying: I believe in Him! 
Who, feeling, seeing, 
Deny His being, 
Saying: I believe Him not! 
The All-enfolding, 
The All-upholding, 
Folds and upholds he not 
Thee, me, Himself ? 
Arches not there the sky above us? 
Lies not beneath us, firm, the earth? > 
And rise not, on us shining, 
Friendly, the everlasting stars ? 
Look I not, eye to eye, on thee, 


158 FAUST. 


And feel’st not, thronging 

To head and heart, the force, 

Still weaving its eternal secret, 

Invisible, visible, round thy life? 

Vast as it is, fill with that force thy heart, 
And when thou in the feeling wholly blessed art, 
Call it, then, what thou wilt, — 

Call it Bliss! Heart! Love! God! 

I have no name to give it! 

Feeling is all in all: 

The Name is sound and smoke, 
Obscuring Heaven's clear glow. 


MARGARET. 


All that is fine and good, to hear it so: 
Much the same way the preacher spoke, 
Only with slightly different phrases. 


FAUST. 


The same thing, in all places, 

All hearts that beat beneath the heavenly day — 
Each in its language — say ; 

Then why not I, in mine, as well? 


MARGARET. 


To hear it thus, it may seem passable; 
And yet, some hitch in ’t there must be 
For thou hast no Christianity. 


FAUST. 
Dear love! 


MARGARET. 


I’ve long been grieved vo see 
That thou art in such company. 








SCENE XVI. 159 


FAUST. 
How so? 


MARGARET. 


The man who with thee goes, thy mate, 
Within my deepest, inmost soul I hate. 
In all my life there’s nothing 
Has given my heart so keen a pang of loathing, 
As his repulsive face has done. 


FAUST. 
Nay, fear him not, my sweetest one! 


MARGARET. 


I feel his presence like something ill. 

I’ve else, for all, a kindly will, 

But, much as my heart to see thee yearneth, 
The secret horror of him returneth ; 

And I think the man a knave, as I live! 

If I do him wrong, may God forgive ! 


FAUST. 
There must be such queer birds, however. 


MARGARET. 


Live with the like of him, may I never! 
When once inside the door comes he, 

He looks around so sneeringly, 

And half in wrath: 

One sees that in nothing no interest he hath: 
’T is written on his very forehead 

That love, to him, is a thing abhorréd. 

I am so happy on thine arm, 

So free, so yielding, and so warm, 

And in his presence stifled seems my heart. 


160 FAUST. 


FAUST. 
Foreboding angel that thou art! 


MARGARET. 


It overcomes me in such degree, 

That wheresoe’er he meets us, even, 

I feel as though I'd lost my love for thee. 
When he is by, I could not pray to Heaven. 
That burns within me like a flame, 

And surely, Henry, ’t is with thee the same. 


FAUST. 
There, now, is thine antipathy ! 


MARGARET. 
But I must go. 


FAUST. 


Ah, shall there never be 
A quiet hour, to see us fondly plighted, 
With breast to breast, and soul to soul united ? 


MARGARET. 


Ah, if I only slept alone! 

I’d draw the bolts to-night, for thy desire ; 
But mother’s sleep so light has grown, 
And if we were discovered by her, 

’T would be my death upon the spot ! 


FAUST. 


Thou angel, fear it not! 

Here is a phial: in her drink 

But three drops of it measure, 

And deepest sleep will on her senses sink. 





SCENE XVI. 161 


MARGARET. 


What would I not, to give thee pleasure? 
It will not harm her, when one tries it? 


FAUST. 
If ’t would, my love, would I advise it? 


MARGARET. 


Ah, dearest man, if but thy face I see, 
I know not what compels me to thy will: 
So much have I already done for thee, 
That scarcely more is left me to fulfil. 


[Exit 
(Enter MEPHISTOPHELES. ) 
MEPHISTOPHELES. 
The monkey! Is she gone? 
FAUST. 
Hast played the spy again? 
MEPHISTOPHELES. 


I’ve heard, most fully, how she drew thee. 

The. Doctor has been catechised, ’t is plain ; 

Great good, I hope, the thing will do thee. 

The girls have much desire to ascertain 

If one is prim and good, as ancient rules compel: 

If there he ’s led, they think, he ’ll follow them as well. 


FAUST. 


Thou, monster, wilt nor see nor own 

How this pure soul, of faith so lowly, 

So loving and ineffable, — 

- The faith alone 

That her salvation is, — with scruples holy 

Pines, lest she hold as lost the man she loves so well ! 
K 


162 FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Thou, full of sensual, super-sensual desire, 
A girl by the nose is leading thee. 


FAUST. 
Abortion, thou, of filth and fire! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
And then, how masterly she reads physiognomy ! 
When I am present she’s impressed, she knows not how; 
She in my mask a hidden sense would read : 
She feels that surely I’m a genius now, — 
Perhaps the very Devil, indeed! 
Well, well, — to-night —? 


FAUST. 
What’s that to thee ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Yet my delight ’t will also be ! 


SCENE XVII. 163 


XVII. 


AT THE FOUNTAIN."s 
MARGARET and LISBETH with pitchers. 


LISBETH. 
H AST nothing heard of Barbara ? 


MARGARET. 
No, not a word. I go so little out. 


LISBETH. 
It’s true, Sibylla said, to-day. 
She ’s played the fool at last, there ’s not a doubt. 
Such taking-on of airs ! 


MARGARET. 
How so? 


LISBETH. 
It stinks ! 


She ’s feeding two, whene’er she eats and drinks. 


MARGARET. 
Ah! 


LISBETH. 
And so, at last, it serves her rightly. 
She clung to the fellow so long and tightly ! 


That was a promenading ! 
At village and dance parading! 





FAUST. 


As the first they must everywhere shine, 
And he treated her always to pies and wine, 
And she made a to-do with her face so fine ; 
So mean and shameless was her behavior, 
She took all the presents the fellow gave her. 
’T was kissing and coddling, on and on! 

So now, at the end, the flower is gone. 


MARGARET, 
The poor, poor thing ! 


LISBETH. 
Dost pity her, at that ? 

When one of us at spinning sat, 
And mother, nights, ne’er let us out the door 
She sported with her paramour. 
On the door-bench, in the passage dark, 
The length of the time they ’d never mark. 
So now her head no more she ’I] lift, 
But do church-penance in her sinner’s shift ! 


MARGARET. 
He ’ll surely take her for his wife. 


LISBETH. 


-He’d bea fool! A brisk young blade 


Has room, elsewhere, to ply his trade. 
Besides, he’s gone. 


MARGARET. 
That is not fair ! 


LISBETH. 
If him she gets, why let her beware ! 


SCENE XVII. 165 


The boys shall dash her wreath on the floor, 
And we ’ll scatter chaff before her door !'*6 
[Zxit. 
MARGARET (returning home). 


How scornfully I once reviled, 

When some poor maiden was beguiled ! 
More speech than any tongue suffices 

I craved, to censure others’ vices. 

Black as it seemed, I blackened still, 
And blacker yet was in my will; 

And blessed myself, and boasted high, — 
And now —a living sin am I! 

Yet— all that drove my heart thereto, 
God! was so good, so dear, so true! 


166 FAUST. 


XVIII 
DONJON." 


(J a niche of the wall a shrine, with an image of the Mater 
Dolorosa. Pots of flowers before it.) 


MARGARET 


“(putting fresh flowers in the pots). 
NCLINE, O Maiden, 
Thou sorrow-laden, 
Thy gracious countenance upon my pain ! 


The sword Thy heart in, 
With anguish smarting, 
Thou lookest up to where Thy Son is slain! 


Thou seest the Father ; 
Thy sad sighs gather, 
And bear aloft Thy sorrow and His pain! 


Ah, past guessing, 

Beyond expressing, 

The pangs that wring my flesh and bone } 
Why this anxious heart so burneth, 

Why it trembleth, why it yearneth, 
Knowest Thou, and Thou alone! 


Where’er I go, what sorrow, 
What woe, what woe and sorrow 





SCENE XWII. 167 


Within my bosom aches! 
Alone, and ah! unsleeping, 

I’m weeping, weeping, weeping, 
The heart within me breaks. 


The pots before my window, 
Alas! my tears did wet, 
As in the early morning 
For thee these flowers I set. 


Within my lonely chamber 
The morning sun shone red: 
I sat, in utter sorrow, 
Already on my bed. 


Help! rescue me from death and stain! 
O Maiden! . 

Thou sorrow-laden, 

Incline Thy countenance upon my pain i 


168 FAUST. 


XIX. 
NIGH f. 


STREET BEFORE MARGARET’S DOOR. 


VALENTINE "8 
(a soldier, MARGARET'S brother). 


HEN I have sat at some carouse, 
Where each to each his brag allows, 
And many a comrade praised to me 
His pink of girls right lustily, 
With brimming glass that spilled the toast, 
And elbows planted as in boast: 
I sat in unconcerned repose, 
And heard the swagger as it rose. 
And stroking then my beard, I'd say, 
Smiling, the bumper in my hand: 
“Each well enough in her own way, 
But is there one in all the land 
Like sister Margaret, good as gold, — 
One that to her can a candle hold?” 
Cling! clang! “ Here’s to her!” went around 
The board: “ He speaks the truth!” cried some; 
“In her the flower o’ the sex is found!” 
And all the swaggerers were dumb. 
And now! — I could tear my hair with vexation, 
And dash out my brains in desperation ! 
With turned-up nose each scamp may face me, 
With sneers and stinging taunts disgrace me, 





SCENE XIX. 169 


And, like a bankrupt debtor sitting, 

A chance-dropped word may set me sweating! 
Yet, though I thresh them all together, 

I cannot call them liars, either. 


But what comes sneaking, there, to view? 
If I mistake not, there are two. 

If ke’s one, let me at him drive ! 

He shall not leave the spot alive. 


Faust. MEPHISTOPHELES. 


FAUST. 
How from the window of the sacristy 
Upward th’ eternal lamp sends forth a glimmer, 
That, lessening side-wards, fainter grows and dimmer, 
Till darkness closes from the sky ! 
The shadows thus within my bosom gather. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


I’m like a sentimental tom-cat, rather, 

That round the tall fire-ladders sweeps, 

And stealthy, then, along the coping creeps: 
Quite virtuous, withal, I come, 

A little thievish and a little frolicsome. 

I feel in every limb the presage 

Forerunning the grand Walpurgis-Night: 
Day after to-morrow. brings its message, 
And one keeps watch then with delight. 


FAUST. 
Meanwhile, may not the treasure risen be, 
Which there, behind, I glimmering see? 
MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Shalt soon experience the pleasure, 
To lift the kettle with its treasure. 
VOL. I. 8 








170 FAUST. 


I lately gave therein a squint — 
Saw splendid lion-dollars in ’t."9 


FAUST. 


Not even a jewel, not a ring, 
To deck therewith my darling girl? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


I saw, among the rest, a thing 
That seemed to be a chain of pearl. 


. FAUST. 
That’s well, indeed! For painful is it 
To bring no gift when her I visit. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Thou shouldst not find it so annoying, 

Without return to be enjoying. 

Now, while the sky leads forth its starry throng, 
Thou ’It hear a masterpiece, no work completer: 
I'll sing her, first, a moral song, 

The surer, afterwards, to cheat her. 


(Sings to the cither.) 


What dost thou here'= 
In daybreak clear, 
Kathrina dear, 

Before thy lover’s door? 
Beware! the blade 

Lets in a maid, 

That out a maid 
Departeth nevermore! 


The coaxing shun 
Of such an one! 
When once ’t is done 





SCENE XIX. 7% 


Good-night to thee, poor thing! 

Love’s time is brief : 

Unto no thief 

Be warm and lief, 

But with the wedding-ring ! 

VALENTINE (comes forward). 

Whom wilt thou lure? God’s-element! 
Rat-catching piper, thou ! — perdition !** 
To the Devil, first, the instrument ! 
To the Devil, then, the curst musician ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
The cither’s smashed! For nothing more ’t is fitting. 


VALENTINE. 
There’s yet a skull I must be splitting! 


MEPHISTOPHELES (¢o Faust). 
Sir Doctor, don’t retreat, I pray! 
Stand by: I'll lead, if youll but tarry: 
Out with your spit, without delay !' 
You ’ve but to lunge, and I will parry. 


VALENTINE. 
Then parry that! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Why not? ’t is light. 
VALENTINE. 

That, too! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Of course. 


VALENTINE, 


I think the Devil must fight ! 
How is it, then? my hand’s already lame. 


172 FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (fo Faust). 
Thrust home! 


VALENTINE ( /adls). 
O God! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Now is the lubber tame! 
But come, away! ’T is time for us to fly ; 
For there arises now a murderous cry. 
With the police ’t were easy to compound it, 
But here the penal court will sift and sound it. 
[ Axst with Faust. 

MARTHA (at the window). 

Come out! come out! 


MARGARET (at the window). 
Quick, bring a light! 


MARTHA (as adove). 
They swear and storm, they yell and fight! 


PEOPLE. 
Here lies one dead already — see! 


MARTHA (coming from the house). 
The murderers, whither have they run? 


MARGARET (coming out). 


Who lies here? 
PEOPLE. 


°T is thy mother’s son! 


MARGARET. 
Almighty God! what misery ! 





SCENE XIX. 173 


VALENTINE. 
I’m dying! That is quickly said, 
And quicker yet ’t is done. 
Why howl, you women there? Instead, 
Come here and listen, every one! 

(All gather around him.) 

My Margaret, see! still young thou art, 
But not the least bit shrewd or smart, 
Thy business thus to slight: 
So this advice I bid thee heed — 
Now that thou art a whore indeed, 
Why, be one then, outright! 


MARGARET. 
My brother! God! such words to me? 


VALENTINE. 


In this game let our Lord God be! 
What ’s done ’s already done, alas! 
What follows it, must come to pass. 
With one begin’st thou secretly, 
Then soon will others come to thee, 
And when a dozen thee have known, 
Thou ’rt also free to all the town. 


When Shame is born and first appears, 
She is in secret brought to light, 

And then they draw the veil of night 

Over her head and ears; 

Her life, in fact, they ’re loath to spare her. 
But let her growth and strength display, 
She walks abroad unveiled by day, 

Yet is not grown a whit the fairer. 

The uglier she is to sight, 

The more she seeks the day’s broad light. 


174 


FAUST. 


The time I verily can discern 

When all the honest folk will turn 

From thee, thou jade! and seek protection 
As from a corpse that breeds infection. 
Thy guilty heart shall then dismay thee, 
When they but look thee in the face : — 
Shalt not in a golden chain array thee, 
Nor at the altar take thy place! 

Shalt not, in lace and ribbons flowing, 
Make merry when the dance is going! 

But in some corner, woe betide thee! 
Among the beggars and cripples hide thee; 
And so, though even God forgive, 

On earth a damned existence live ! 


MARTHA. 


Commend your soul to God for pardon, 
That you your heart with slander harden! 


VALENTINE. 
Thou pimp most infamous, be still! 
Could I thy withered body kill, 
’T would bring, for all my sinful pleasure, 
Forgiveness in the richest measure. 


MARGARET. 
My brother! This is Hell’s own pain! 


VALENTINE. 


I tell thee, from thy tears refrain ! 
When thou from honor didst depart 

It stabbed me to the very heart. 

New through the slumber of the grave 
I go to God as a soldier brave. 


( Dies.) 


i aT ce a aan a a 
ene 


SCENE XX. 175 


XX. 


CATHEDRAL."3 


SERVICE, ORGAN AND ANTHEM. 


(MARGARET among much people: the EVIL Spirit dehsnd 
MARGARET.) 


EVIL SPIRIT. 


OW otherwise was it, Margaret, 
When thou, still innocent, 
Here to the altar cam’st, 
And from the worn and fingered book 
Thy prayers didst prattle, 
Half sport of childhood, 
Half God within thee ! 
Margaret ! 
Where tends thy thought ? 
Within thy bosom 
What hidden crime? 
Pray’st thou for mercy on thy mother’s soul, 
That fell asleep to long, long torment, and through thee ? 
Upon thy threshold whose the blood ? 
And stirreth not and quickens 
Something beneath thy heart, 
Thy life disquieting 
With most foreboding presence ? 
MARGARET. 


Woe! woe! 
Would I were free from the thoughts 








£76 


FAUST. 


That cross me, drawing hither and thither, 
Despite me ! 
CHORUS. 
Dies tra, dies illa,™4 
Solvet seclum in favilla! 
(Sound of the organ.) 


EVIL SPIRIT. 


Wrath takes thee ! 
The trumpet peals ! 


‘The graves tremble ! 


And thy heart 

From ashy rest 

To fiery torments 

Now again requickened, 
Throbs to life ! 


MARGARET. 


Would I were forth! 

I feel as if the organ here 
My breath takes from me, 
My very heart 

Dissolved by the anthem ! 


CHORUS. 


Fudex ergo cum sedebit,s 
Quidguid latet, adparebit, 
Nil inultum remanebit. 


MARGARET. 


I cannot breathe ! 
The massy pillars 
Imprison me! 

The vaulted arches 
Crush me! — Air! 








SCENE XX. 179 


EVIL SPIRIT. 
Hide thyself! Sin and shame 
Stay never hidden. 
Air? Light? 
Woe to thee! 
CHORUS. 


Quid sum miser tunc dicturus, 
Quem patronum rogaturus, 
Cum vix justus sit securus ? 


EVIL SPIRIT. 


They turn their faces, 

The glorified, from thee : 

The pure, their hands to offer, 
Shuddering, refuse thee ! 
Woe! 


CHORUS. 
Quid sum miser tunc dicturus ? 


MARGARET. 
Neighbor! your cordial ! }77 
(Ske falls in a swoon.r 








178 FAUST. 


XXI. 
WALPURGIS-NIGHT.™ 


THE HARTZ MOUNTAINS. 
District of Schierke and Elend. 
FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. 


MEPHISTOPHELES, 


OST thou not wish a broomstick-steed’s assistance ? 
The sturdiest he-goat I would gladly see: 
The way we take, our goal is yet some distance. 


FAUST. 


So long as in my legs I feel the fresh existence, 
This knotted staff suffices me. 

What need to shorten so the way ? 

Along this labyrinth of vales to wander, 

Then climb the rocky ramparts yonder, 
Wherefrom the fountain flings eternal spray, . 

Is such delight, my steps would fain delay. 

The spring-time stirs within the fragrant birches, 
And even the fir-tree feels it now: 

Should then our limbs escape its gentle searches? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
I notice no such thing, I vow! 
'T is winter still within my body: 
Upon my path I wish for frost and snow. 


SCENE XXJ/. 179 


How sadly rises, incomplete and ruddy, 

The moon’s lone disk, with its belated glow,'™ 

And lights so dimly, that, as one advances, 

At every step one strikes a rock or tree ! 

Let us, then, use a Jack-o’-lantern’s glances: 

I see one yonder, burning merrily. 

Ho, there! my friend! I ’ll levy thine attendance: 
Why waste so vainly thy resplendence ? 

Be kind enough to light us up the steep! 


WILL-O’-THE-WISP. 
My reverence, I hope, will me enable 
To curb my temperament unstable ; 
For zigzag courses we are wont to keep. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Indeed? he ’d like mankind to imitate! 
Now, in the Devil’s name, go straight, 
Or I'll blow out his being’s flickering spark! 


WILL-O’-THE-WISP. 


You are the master of the house, I mark, 

And I shall try to serve you nicely. 

But then, reflect: the mountain ’s magic-mad to-day, 
And if a will-o’-the-wisp must guide you on the way, 
You must n’t take things too precisely. 


FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, WILL-O’-THE-WISP 
(i alternating song). 
We, it seems, have entered newly 
In the sphere of dreams enchanted. 
Do thy bidding, guide us truly, 
That our feet be forwards planted 
In the vast, the desert spaces ! 


180 


FAUST. 


See them swiftly changing places, 
Trees on trees beside us trooping, 
And the crags above us stooping, 
And the rocky snouts, outgrowing, — 
Hear them snoring, hear them blowing !'* 
O’er the stones, the grasses, flowing 
Stream and streamlet seek the hollow. 
Hear I noises? songs that follow? 
Hear I tender love-petitions ? 

Voices of those heavenly visions? 
Sounds of hope, of love undying ! 
And the echoes, like traditions 

Of old days, come faint and hollow. 


Hoo-hoo! Shoo-hoo! Nearer hover 
Jay and screech-owl, and the plover, — 
Are they all awake and crying ? 

Is ’t the salamander pushes, 
Bloated-bellied, through the bushes ? 
And the roots, like serpents twisted, 
Through the sand and boulders toiling, 
Fright us, weirdest links uncoiling 

To entrap us, unresisted : 

Living knots and gnarls uncanny 

Feel with polypus-antenne 

For the wanderer. Mice are flying, 
Thousand-colored, herd-wise hieing 
Through the moss and through the heather! 
And the fire-flies wink and darkle, 
Crowded swarms that soar and sparkle, 
And in wildering escort gather ! 


Tell me, if we still are standing, 

Or if further we ’re ascending ? 

All is turning, whirling, blending, 
Trees and rocks with grinning faces, 





SCENE XXII. 181 


Wandering lights that spin in mazes, 
Still increasing and expanding ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Grasp my skirt with heart undaunted ! 
Here a middle-peak is planted, 
Whence one seéth, with amaze, 
Mammon in the mountain blaze. 


FAUST. 


How strangely glimmers through the hollows 
A dreary light, like that of dawn! 

Its exhalation tracks and follows 

The deepest gorges, faint and wan. 

Here steam, there rolling vapor sweepeth ; 
Here burns the glow through film and haze: 
Now like a tender thread it creepeth, 

Now like a fountain leaps and plays. 

Here winds away, and in a hundred 
Divided veins the valley braids : 

There, in a corner pressed and sundered, 
Itself detaches, spreads and fades. 

Here gush the sparkles incandescent 

Like scattered showers of golden sand ; — 
But, see! in all their height, at present, 
The rocky ramparts blazing stand. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Has not Sir Mammon grandly lighted 

His palace for this festal night? 

*T is lucky thou hast seen the sight ; 

The boisterous guests approach that were invited. 


FAUST. 


How raves the tempest through the air ! *# 
With what fierce blows upon my neck ’t is beating! 


132 FA OST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Under the old ribs of the rock retreating, 
Hold fast, lest thou be hurled down the abysses there! 
The night with the mist is black; 

Hark! how the forests grind and crack! 
Frightened, the owlets are scattered : 
Hearken! the pillars are shattered, 

The evergreen palaces shaking! 

Boughs are groaning and breaking, 

The tree-trunks terribly thunder, 

The roots are twisting asunder ! 

In frightfully intricate crashing 

Each on the other is dashing, 

And over the wreck-strewn gorges 

The tempest whistles and surges! 
Hear’st thou voices higher ringing? 

Far away, or nearer singing? 

Yes, the mountain’s side along, 

Sweeps an infuriate glamouring song! 


WITCHES (in chorus). 


The witches ride to the Brocken’s top,'* 
The stubble is yellow, and green the crop. 
There gathers the crowd for carnival : 

Sir Urian sits over all. 

And so they go over stone and stock; 
The witch she ——s, and ——s the buck. 


A VOICE. 


Alone, old Baubo ’s coming now ; "3 
She rides upon a farrow-sow. 


CHORUS. 


Then honor to whom the honor is due} 
Dame Baubo first, to lead the crew! 





SCENE XXI. 183 


A tough old sow and the mother thereon, 
Then follow the witches, every one. 


A VOICE, 
Which way com’st thou hither? 


VOICE, 
O’er the Ilsen-stone. 


I peeped at the owl in her nest alone: 
How she stared and glared! 


VOICE. 
Betake thee to Hell! 


Why so fast and so fell? 


VOICE. 


She has scored and has flayed me: 
See the wounds she has made me! 


WITCHES (chorus). 
The way is wide, the way is long: 
See, what a wild and crazy throng! 
The broom it scratches, the fork it thrusts, 
The child is stifled, the mother bursts. 


WIZARDS (semichorus). 
As doth the snail in shell, we crawl: 
Before us go the women all. 
When towards the Devil’s House we tread, 
Woman ’s a thousand steps ahead." 


OTHER SEMICHORUS. 


We do not measure with such care: 
Woman in thousand steps is there, 
But howsve’er she hasten may, 

Man in one leap has cleared the way. 





FA OST. 


VOICE (from above). 
Come on, come on, from Rocky Lake! 


VOICE (from below). 
Aloft we’d fain ourselves betake. 
We've washed, and are bright as ever you will, 
Yet we’re eternally sterile still.*3s 


- BOTH CHORUSES. 
The wind is hushed, the star shoots by, 
The dreary moon forsakes the sky; 
The magic notes, like spark on spark, 
Drizzle, whistling through the dark.?* 


VOICE (from below). 
Halt, there! Ho, there! 


VOICE (from above). 
Who calls from the rocky cleft below there ? 


VOICE (below). 
Take me, too! take me, too! 
I’m climbing now three hundred years, 
And yet the summit cannot see: 
Among my equals I would be. 


BOTH CHORUSES. 
Bears the broom and bears the stock, 
Bears the fork and bears the buck: 
Who cannot raise himself to-night 
Is evermore a ruined wight. 


HALF-WITCH (d¢e/ow). 


So long I stumble, ill bestead, 
And the others are now so far ahead! 


SCENE XXI, 185 


At home I ’ve neither rest nor cheer, 
And yet I cannot gain them here. 


CHORUS OF WITCHES. 
To cheer the witch will salve avail ; 
A rag will answer for a sail; 
Each trough a goodly ship supplies ; 
He ne’er will fly, who now not flies. 


| BOTH CHORUSES. 
When round the summit whirls our flight, 
Then lower, and on the ground alight ; 
And far and wide the heather press 
With witchhood’s swarms of wantonness ! 


( They settle down.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


They crowd and push, they roar and clatter! 
They whirl and whistle, pull and chatter! 
They shine, and spirt, and stink, and bum! 
The true witch-element we learn. 

Keep close! or we are parted, in our turn. 
Where art thou? 


FAUST (in the distance). 
Here! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 

What! whirled so far astray! 
Then house-right I must use, and clear the way. 
Make room! Squire Voland comes!'3® Room, gentle 

rabble, room! 

Here, Doctor, hold to me: in one jump we ’Il resume 
An easier space, and from the crowd be free: 
Jt ’s too much, even for the like of me. 


186 FAUST. 


Yonder, with special light, there ’s something shining 
clearer ; 

Within those bushes; I ’ve a mind to see. 

Come on! we ’ll slip a little nearer. 


FAUST. 


Spirit of Contradiction! On! I "ll follow straight. 
'T is planned most wisely, if I judge aright: 

We climb the Brocken’s top in the Walpurgis-Night, 
That arbitrarily, here, ourselves we isolate. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


But see, what motley flames among the heather! 
There is a lively club together: 
In smaller circles one is not alone. 


FAUST. 


Better the summit, I must own: 

There fire and whirling smoke I see. 

They seek the Evil One in wild confusion: 
Many enigmas there might find solution. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


But there enigmas also knotted be. 

Leave to the multitude their riot! 

Here will we house ourselves in quiet. 

It is an old, transmitted trade, 

That in the greater world the little worlds are made. 
I see stark-nude young witches congregate, 

And old ones, veiled and hidden shrewdly: 

On my account be kind, nor treat them rudely! 
The trouble ’s small, the fun is great. 

I hear the noise of instruments attuning, — 

Vile din! yet one must learn to bear the crooning. 
Come, come along! It mst be, I declare! 


SCENE XX1. 187 


! "ll go ahead and introduce thee there, 

Thine obligation newly earning. 

That is no little space: what say’st thou, friend ? 

Look yonder ! thou canst scarcely see the end: 

A hundred fires along the ranks are burning. 

They dance, they chat, they cook, they drink, they 
court : 

Now where, just tell me, is there better sport ? 


FAUST. 


Wilt thou, to introduce us to the revel, 
Assume the part of wizard or of devil? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
I ’m mostly used, ’t is true, to go incognito, 
But on a gala-day one may his orders show. 
The Garter does not deck my suit, 
But honored and at home is here the cloven foot. 
Perceiv’st thou yonder snail? It cometh, slow and 
steady ; 
So delicately its feelers pry, 
That it hath scented me already : 
I cannot here disguise me, if I try. 
But come! we ’ll go from this fire to a newer: 
I am the go-between, and thou the wooer. 


( Zo some, who are sitting around dying embers :) 
Old gentlemen, why at the outskirts? Enter! 
I ’d praise you if I found you snugly in the centre, 
With youth and revel round you like a zone: 
You each, at home, are quite enough alone. 


GENERAL. 


Say, who would put his trust in nations, 
Howe’er for them one may have worked and planned? 


188 FAUST. 


For with the people, as with women, 
Youth always has the upper hand. 


MINISTER. 


They ’re now too far from what is just and sage. 
I praise the old ones, not unduly: 

When we were all-in-all, then, truly, 

Then was the real golden age. 


PARVENU. 


We also were not stupid, either, 

And what we should not, often did; 

But now all things have from their bases slid, 
Just as we meant to hold them fast together. 


AUTHOR. 


Who, now, a work of moderate sense will read? 
Such works are held as antiquate and mossy ; 
And as regards the younger folk, indeed, 

They never yet have been so pert and saucy. 


MEPHISTOPHELES 
(who all at once appears very old).*9 
I feel that men are ripe for Judgment-Day, 
Now for the last time I ’ve the witches’-hill ascended: 
Since to the lees my cask is drained away, 
The world’s, as well, must soon be ended. 


HUCKSTER-WITCH. 


Ye gentlemen, don’t pass me thus! 

Let not the chance neglected be! 

Behold my wares attentively : 

The stock is rare and various. 

And yet, there ’s nothing I ’ve collected — 
No shop, on earth, like this you ’Il find !— 





SCENE XX. 189 


Which has not, once, sore hurt inflicted 

Upon the world, and on mankind. 

No dagger ’s here, that set not blood to flowing ; 
No cup, that hath not once, within a healthy frame 
Poured speedy death, in poison glowing : 

No gems, that have not brought a maid to shame; 
No sword, but severed ties for the unwary, 

Or from behind struck down the adversary. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Gossip! the times thou badly comprehendest: 
What ’s done has happed — what haps, is done! 
*T were better if for novelties thou sendest; 

By such alone can we be won. 


FAUST. 


Let me not lose myself in all this pother ! 
This is a fair, as never was another! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


The whirlpool swirls to get above: 
Thou ’rt shoved thyself, imagining to shove. 


FAUST. 
But who is that? 
MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Note her especially. 
’T is Lilith. 
FAUST. 
Who? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Adam’s first wife is she. 
Beware the lure within her lovely tresses, 
The splendid sole adornment of her hair! 





190 FAUST. 


When she succeeds therewith a youth to snare, 
Not soon again she frees him from her jesses. 


FAUST. 


Those two, the old one with the young one sitting, 
They ’ve danced already more than fitting. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


No rest to-night for young or old! 
They start another dance: come now, let us take hold! 


FAUST (dancing with the young witch). 
A lovely dream once came to me ; *# 
I then beheld an apple-tree, 

And there two fairest apples shone : 
They lured me so, I climbed thereon. 


THE FAIR ONE. 


Apples have been desired by you, 
Since first in Paradise they grew; 
And I am moved with joy, to know 
That such within my garden grow. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (dancing with the old one). 
A dissolute dream once came to me: 
Therein I saw a cloven tree, 

Which had a —— —— —; 
Yet, —— as ’t was, I fancied it. 


THE OLD ONE. 
I offer here my best salute 
Unto the knight with cloven foot ! 
Let him a —— —— prepare, 
If him ——- —— —— does not scare. 





SCENE XX. 19% 


PROKTOPHANTASMIST."43 
Accurséd folk! How dare you venture thus? 
Had you not, long since, demonstration 
That ghosts can’t stand on ordinary foundation ? 
And now you even dance, like one of us! 


THE FAIR ONE (dancing). 
Why does he come, then, to our ball ? 


FAUST (dancing). 
O, everywhere on him you fall ! 
When others dance, he weighs the matter: 
If he can’t every step bechatter, 
Then ’t is the same as were the step not made; 
But if you forwards go, his ire is most displayed. 
If you would whirl in regular gyration 
As he does in his dull old mill, 
He ’d show, at any rate, good-will, — 
Especially if you heard and heeded his hortation. 


PROKTOPHANTASMIST. 
You still are here? Nay, ’t is a thing unheard ! 
Vanish, at once! We've said the enlightening word. 
The pack of devils by no rules is daunted: 
We are so wise, and yet is Tegel haunted. 
To clear the folly out, how have I swept and stirred ! 
'T will ne’er be clean: why, ’t is a thing unheard ! 


THE FAIR ONE. 
Then cease to bore us at our ball ! 


PROKTOPHANTASMIST. 
I tell you, spirits, to your face, 
I give to spirit-despotism no place; 
My spirit cannot practise it at all. 


192 FAUST. 


( Zhe dance continues.) 


Naught will succeed, I see, amid such revels ; 
Yet something from a tour I always save,™5 
And hope, before my last step to the grave, 
To overcome the poets and the devils. 





MEPHISTOPHELES. 
He now will seat him in the nearest puddle ; 
The solace this, whereof he’s most assured: 
And when upon his rump the leeches hang and fuddle, 
He ’ll be of spirits and of Spirit cured. 
(Zo Faust, who has left the dance :) 


Wherefore forsakest thou the lovely maiden, 
That in the dance so sweetly sang? 


FAUST. 


Ah! in the midst of it there sprang 
A red mouse from her mouth — sufficient reason !*# 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


That ’s nothing! One must not so squeamish be; 
So the mouse was not gray, enough for thee. 
Who ’d think of that in love’s selected season ? 


FAUST. 
Then saw I — 
MEPHISTOPHELES. 
What? 


FAUST. 
Mephisto, seest thou there, 
Alone and far, a girl most pale and fair? 
She falters on, her way scarce knowing, 
As if with fettered feet that stay her going. 





SCENE XX/. 193 


I must confess, it seems to me 
As if my kindly Margaret were she. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Let the thing be! All thence have evil drawn: 
It is a magic shape, a lifeless eidolon. 

Such to encounter is not good : 

Their blank, set stare benumbs the human blood, 
And one is almost turned to stone. 

Medusa’s tale to thee is known. 


FAUST. 


Forsooth, the eyes they are of one whom, dying, 
No hand with loving pressure closed ; 

That is the breast whereon I once was lying, — 
The body sweet, beside which I reposed! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


’T is magic all, thou fool, seduced so easily ! 
Unto each man his love she seems to be. 


FAUST. 


The woe, the rapture, so ensnare me, 
That from her gaze I cannot tear me! 
And, strange! around her fairest throat 
A single scarlet band is gleaming, 

No broader than a knife-blade seeming ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Quite right! The mark I also note. 

Her head beneath her arm she ’l] sometimes Carry; 
*T was Perseus lopped it, her old adversary. 

Thou crav’st the same illusion still ! 

Come, let us mount this little hill; 

The Prater shows neo livelier stir, '47 

VOL. I. 9 M 


394 FA OST. 


And, if they ’ve not bewitched my sense, 
I verily see a theatre. 
What’s going on? 


SERVIBILIS.*# 
*T will shortly recommence: 

A new performance — ’t is the last of seven. 
To give that number is the custom here : 
*T was by a Dilettante written, 
And Dilettanti in the parts appear. 
That now I vanish, pardon, I entreat you! 
As Dilettante I the curtain raise. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


When I upon the Blocksberg meet you, 
I find it good: for that ’s your proper place 





SCENE XXII. 195 


XXIT. 


WALPURGIS-NIGHT’S DREAM. 
OBERON AND TITANIA’S GOLDEN WEDDING." 
INTERMEZZO. 


MANAGER. 
re S of Mieding, rest to-day ! *» 
Needless your machinery: 
Misty vale and mountain gray, 

That is all the scenery. 


HERALD. 


That the wedding golden be, 
Must fifty years be rounded: 
But the Golden give to me, 
When the strife ’s compounded. 


OBERON. 
Spirits, if you ’re here, be seen — 
Show yourselves, delighted ! 
Fairy king and fairy queen, 
They are newly plighted. 


PUCK.'# 
Cometh Puck, and, light of limb, 
Whisks and whirls in measure : 
Come a hundred after him, 
To share with him the pleasure. 


196 


FAUST. 


ARIEL." 
Ariel’s song is heavenly-pure, 
His tones are sweet and rare ones: 
Though ugly faces he allure, 
Yet he allures the fair ones. 


OBERON. 


Spouses, who would fain agree, 
Learn how we were mated ! 

If your pairs would loving be, 
First be separated ! 


TITANIA. 
If her whims the wife control, 
And the man berate her, 
Take him to the Northern Pole, 
And her to the Equator ! 


ORCHESTRA. TUTTI.'3 
Fortissimo. 


Snout of fly, mosquito-bill, 

And kin of all conditions, 

Frog in grass, and cricket-trill, — 
These are the musicians ! 


SOLO.'™4 


See the bagpipe on our track! 

*T is the soap-blown bubble: 
Hear the schnecke-schnicke-schnack 
Through his nostrils double ! 


SPIRIT, JUST GROWING INTO FORM.'SS 


Spider’s foot and paunch of toad, 
And little wings — we know ’em ! 





SCENE XXII. 197 


A little creature ’t will not be, 
But yet, a little poem. 


A LITTLE COUPLE.'® 

Little step and lofty leap 
Through honey-dew and fragrance: 
You ll never mount the airy steep 
With all your tripping vagrance. 

INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER."7 
Is ’t but masquerading play ? 
See I with precision ? 


Oberon, the beauteous fay, 
Meets, to-night, my vision ! 


ORTHODOX.'!* 


Not a claw, no tail I see! 

And yet, beyond a cavil, | 
Like “ the Gods of Greece,” must he 
Also be a devil. 


NORTHERN ARTIST.'® 
I only seize, with sketchy air, 
Some outlines of the tourney ; 
Yet I betimes myself prepare 
For my Italian journey. 


PURIST. 


My bad luck brings me here, alas! 
How roars the orgy louder ! 

And of the witches in the mass, 
But only two wear powder. 


YOUNG WITCH. 


Powder becomes, like petticoat, 
A gray and wrinkled noddy ; 


198 FAUST, 


So I sit naked on my goat, 
And show a strapping body. 


MATRON. 


We’ve too much tact and policy 

To rate with gibes a scolder ; 

Yet, young and tender though you be, 
I hope to see you moulder. 


LEADER OF THE BAND. 


Fly-snout and mosquito-bill, 

Don’t swarm so round the Naked ! 
Frog in grass and cricket-trill, 
Observe the time, and make it! 


WEATHERCOCK (towards one side). 
Society to one’s desire! 
Brides only, and the sweetest! 
And bachelors of youth and fire, 
And prospects the completest ! 


WEATHERCOCK (fowards the other side). 
And if the Earth don’t open now 
To swallow up each ranter, 

Why, then will I myself, I vow, 
Jump into hell instanter ! 


XENIES."* 
Us as little insects see ! 
With sharpest nippers flitting, 
That our Papa Satan we 
May honor as is fitting. 


HENNINGS.'@ 


How, in crowds together massed, 
They are jesting, shameless ! 





SCENE XXII. 199 


They will even say, at last, 
That their hearts are blameless. 


MUSAGETES. 
Among this witches’ revelry 
His way one gladly loses ; 
And, truly, it would easier be 
Than to command the Muses. 


CI-DEVANT GENIUS OF THE AGE, 


The proper folks one’s talents laud: 
Come on, and none shall pass us! 
The Blocksberg has a summit broad, 
Like Germany’s Parnassus. 


INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER. 
Say, who’s the stiff and pompous man? 
He walks with haughty paces: 
He snuffles all he snuffle can: 
“He scents the Jesuits’ traces.” 


CRANE. "3 


Both clear and muddy streams, for me 
Are good to fish and sport in: 

And thus the pious man you see 

With even devils consorting. 


WORLDLING."™4 
Yes, for the pious, I suspect, 
All instruments are fitting ; 
And on the Blocksberg they erect 
Full many a place of meeting. 


DANCER. 


A newer chorus now succeeds ! 
U hear the distant drumming. 


200 


FAUST. 


‘Don’t be disturbed! ’t is, in the reeds, 
The bittern’s changeless booming.” 


DANCING-MASTER. 


How each his legs in nimtle trip 
Lifts up, and makes a clearance! 
The crooked jump, the heavy skip, 
Nor care for the appearance. 


GOOD FELLOW." 
The rabble by such hate are held, 
To maim and slay delights them: 
As Orpheus’ lyre the brutes compelled, 
The bagpipe here unites them. 


DOGMATIST. 
I°ll not be led by any lure 
Of doubts or critic-cavils : 
The Devil must be something, sure, ~ 
Or how should there be devils? 


IDEALIST.*© 
This once, the fancy wrought in me 
Is really too despotic: 
Forsooth, if I am all I see, 


' I must be idiotic ! 


REALIST. 


This racking fuss on every hand, 
It gives me great vexation ; 

And, for the first time, here I stand 
On insecure foundation. 


SUPERNATURALIST. 


With much delight I see the play, 
And grant to these their merits, 


SCENE XX/]7. 20r 


Since from the devils I also may 
Infer the better spirits. 


SCEPTIC.*© 


The flame they follow, on and on, 
And think they ’re near the treasure: 
But Devil rhymes with Dowd? alone, 
So I am here with pleasure. 


LEADER OF THE BAND. 
Frog in green, and cricket-trill, 
Such dilettants ! — perdition ! 
Fly-snout and mosquito-bill, — 
Each one’s a fine musician ! 


THE ADROIT."® 
Sanssouct, we call the clan 
Of merry creatures so, then; 
Go a-foot no more we can, 
And on our heads we go, then. 


THE AWKWARD. 
Once many a bit we sponged; but now, 
God help us! that is done with: 
Our shoes are all danced out, we trow, 
We ’ve but naked soles to run with. 


WILL-0O’-THE-WISPS.,'9 
From the marshes we appear, 
Where we originated ; 
Yet in the ranks, at once, we ’re here 
As glittering gallants rated. 


SHOOTING-STAR. 
Darting hither from the sky, 
In star and fire light shooting, 
Q* 


202 


FAUST. 


Cross-wise now in grass I lie: 
Who ’ll help me to my footing? 


THE HEAVY FELLOWS. 
Room! and round about us, room t 
Trodden are the grasses: 

Spirits also, spirits come, 
And they are bulky masses. 


PUCK. 
Enter not so stall-fed quite, 
Like elephant-calves about one! 
And the heaviest weight to-night 
Be Puck, himself, the stout one! 


ARIEL. 


If loving Nature at your back, 
Or Mind, the wings uncloses, 
Follow up my airy track 

To the mount of roses! 


ORCHESTRA. 
Pianisssmo. 
Cloud and trailing mist o’erhead 
Are now illuminated: 
Air in leaves, and wind in reed, 
And all is dissipated.'” 


SCENE XXII. 203 


XXIII. 


DREARY DAY.'# 
A FIELD. 
FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. 


FAUST. 

N misery! In despair! Long wretchedly astray on 

the face of the earth, and now imprisoned! That 
gracious, illstarred creature shut in a dungeon as a 
criminal, and given up to fearful torments! To this 
has it come! to this ! — Treacherous, contemptible spir- 
it, and thou hast concealed it from me! — Stand, then, 
—stand! Roll the devilish eyes wrathfully in thy head! 
Stand and defy me with thine intolerable presence! 
Imprisoned! In irretrievable misery! Delivered up 
to evil spirits, and to condemning, unfeeling Man! And 
thou hast lulled me, meanwhile, with the most insipid 
dissipations, hast concealed from me her increasing 
wretchedness, and suffered her to go helplessly to ruin! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
She is not the first. 


FAUST. 


Dog! Abominable monster! Transform him, thou 
Infinite Spirit! transform the reptile again into his dog- 
shape, in which it pleased him often at night to scamper 
on before me, to roll himself at the feet of the unsus- — 


204 FAUST. 


pecting wanderer, and hang upon his shoulders when 
he fell! Transform him again into his favorite likeness, 
that he may crawl upon his belly in the dust before me, 
—that I may trample him, the outlawed, under foot! 
Not the first! O woe! woe which no human soul can 
grasp, that more than one being should sink into the 
depths of this misery, —that the first, in its writhing 
death-agony under the eyes of the Eternal Forgiver, did 
not expiate the guilt of all others! The misery of this 
single one pierces to the very marrow of my life; and 
thou art calmly grinning at the fate of thousands! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Now we are already again at the end of our wits, 
where the understanding of you men runs wild. Why 
didst thou enter into fellowship with us, if thou canst 
not carry it out? Wilt fly, and art not secure against 
dizziness? Did we thrust ourselves upon thee, or thou 
thyself upon us? 

FAUST. 

Gnash not thus thy devouring teeth at me! It fills 
me with horrible disgust. Mighty, glorious Spirit, who 
hast vouchsafed to me Thine apparition, who knowest 
my heart and my soul, why fetter me to the felon-com- 
rade, who feeds on mischief and gluts himself with 
ruin ? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Hast thou done? 

FAUST. 


Rescue her, or woe to thee! The fearfullest curse 
be upon thee for thousands of ages ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
I cannot loosen the bonds of the Avenger, nor unde 








SCENE XXIII. 205 


his bolts. Rescue her? Who was it that plunged her 
into ruin? I, or thou? 
(Faust looks around wildly.) 

Wilt thou grasp the thunder? Well, that it has not 
been given to you, miserable mortals! To crush to 
pieces the innocent respondent —that is the tyrant- 
fashion of relieving one’s self in embarrassments. 


FAUST. 
Take me thither! She shall be free! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


And the danger to which thou wilt expose thyself? 
Know that the guilt of blood, from thy hand, still lies 
upon the town! Avenging spirits hover over the spot 
where the victim fell, and lie in wait for the returning 
murderer. 

FAUST. 

That, too, from thee? Murder and death of a world 
upon thee, monster! Take me thither, I say, and lib- 
erate her! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

I will convey thee there; and hear, what I can do! 
Have I all the power in Heaven and on Earth? I will 
becloud the jailer’s senses: get possession of the key, 
and lead her forth with human hand! I will keep 
watch: the magic steeds are ready, I will carry you off. 
So much is in my power. 


FAUST. 
Up and away! 


206 FAUST. 


XXIV. 


NIGHT. 
OPEN FIELD.'*72 


(FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES speeding omward on black 
horses.) 
FAUST. 

\ K J HAT weave they there round the raven-stone ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
I know not what they are brewing and doing. 


FAUST. 
Soaring up, sweeping down, bowing and bending! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
A witches’-guild. 
FAUST. 
They scatter, devote and doom! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
On! on! 





SCENE XXV. 207 


XXV. 
DUNGEON. 


FAUST 
(with a bunch of keys and a lamp, before an tron door). 


A SHUDDER, long unfelt, comes o’er me: 
Mankind’s collected woe o’erwhelms me, here. 
She dwells within the dark, damp walls before me, 
And all her crime was a delusion dear! 

What! I delay to free her? 

I dread, once again to see her? 

On! my shrinking but lingers Death more near. 


(He grasps the lock: the sound of singing ts heard inside.) 


My mother, the harlot,%73 

Who put me to death ; 

My father, the varilet, 

Who eaten me hath / 

Little sister, so good, 

Laid my bones in the wood, 

In the damp moss and clay: 

Then was I a beautiful bird o the wood; 
Fly away! Fly away! 


FAUST (unlocking), 


She does not dream her lover listens near; 
That he the rattling chain, the rustling straw, can hear. 


(He enters.) 


208 FAUST. 


MARGARET (Asding herself on the pallet). 
Woe! woe! They come. O death of bitterness! 


FAUST (whispering). 
Hush! hush! The hour is come that frees thee. 


MARGARET (throwing herself before him). 
Art thou a man, then pity my distress! 


FAUST. 
Thy cries will wake the guards, and they will seize thee ! 
(He takes hold of the fetters to unlock them.) 


MARGARET (on her knees). 


Who, headsman! unto thee such power 

Over me could give ? 

Thou ’rt come for me at midnight-hour : 

Have mercy on me, let me live ! 

Is ’t not soon enough when morning chime has rung? 


(Ske rises.) 


And I am yet so young, so young ! 

And now Death comes, and ruin! 

I, too, was fair, and that was my undoing. 

My love was near, but now he ’s far; 

Torn lies the wreath, scattered the blossoms are. 
Seize me not thus so violently ! 

Spare me! What have I done to thee? 

Let me not vainly entreat thee! 

I never chanced, in all my days, to meet thee ! 


FAUST. 
Shall I outlive this misery ? 





SCENE XXV, 209 


MARGARET. 


Now am I wholly in thy might. 

But let me suckle, first, my baby ! 

I blissed it all this livelong night ; 

They took ’t away, to vex me, maybe, 

And now they say I killed the child outright. 

And never shall I be glad again. 

They sing songs about me! ’tis bad of the folk to doit! 
There ’s an old story has the same refrain ; 

Who bade them so construe it? 


FAUST ( falling upon his knees). 
Here lieth one who loves thee ever, 
The thraldom of thy woe to sever. 


MARGARET ( flinging herself beside him). 
O let us kneel, and call the Saints to hide us! 
Under the steps beside us, 
The threshold under, 
Hell heaves in thunder ! 
The Evil One 
With terrible wrath 
Seeketh a path 
His prey to discover! 


FAUST (aloud). 
Margaret! Margaret ! 
MARGARET (attentively listening). 
That was the voice of my lover! 
(She springs to her feet: the fetters fall off.) 


Where is he? I heard him call me. 
lam free! No one shall enthral]] me. 


210 FAUST. 


To his neck will I fly, 

On his bosom lie! 

On the threshoid he stood, and Margaret / calling, 
Midst of Hell’s howling and noises appalling, 
Midst of the wrathful, infernal derision, 

I knew the sweet sound of the voice of the vision! 


FAUST. 
°T is I! 


MARGARET. 
*T is thou! O, say it once again! 
(Clasping hiss.) 
?T is he! ’t is he! Where now is all my pain? 
The anguish of the dungeon, and the chain ? 
>T is thou! Thou comest to save me, 
And I am saved ! — 
Again the street I see 
Where first I looked on thee ; 
And the garden, brightly blooming, 
Where I and Martha wait thy coming. 


FAUST (strugpling to leave). 
Come! Come with me! 


MARGARET. 
Delay, now! 
So fain I stay, when thou delayest ! 


(Caressing Ain.) 


FAUST. 
Away, now! 
If longer here thou stayest, 
We shall be made to dearly rue it. 


SCENE XXV. 2I1r 


MARGARET. 
Kiss me ! — canst no longer do it? 
My friend, so short a time thou ’rt missing, 
And hast unlearned thy kissing ? 
Why is my heart so anxious, on thy breast? 
Where once a heaven thy glances did create me, 
A heaven thy loving words expressed, 
And thou didst kiss, as thou wouldst suffocate me — 
Kiss me ! 
Or I ’ll kiss thee! 

(She encbvraces him.) 


Ah, woe! thy lips are chill, 
And still. 

How changed in fashion 
Thy passion ! 

Who has done me this ill? 


(She turns away from him.) 


FAUST. 
Come, follow me! My darling, be more bold: 
I ll clasp thee, soon, with warmth a thousand-fold ; 
But follow now! ’T is all I beg of thee. 


MARGARET (turning to him). 
And is it thou? Thou, surely, certainly ? 


FAUST. 
'T ig I! Come on! 


MARGARET. 


Thou wilt unloose my chain, 
And in thy lap wilt take me once again. 
How comes it that thou dost not shrink from me ? — 
Say, dost thou know, my friend. whom thou mak’st free? 


212 FAUST. 


FAUST. 
Come! come! The night already vanisheth. 


MARGARET. 


My mother have I put to death ; 

I ’ve drowned the baby born to thee. 

Was it not given to thee and me? 

Thee, too!—’T is thou! It scarcely true doth seem — 
Give me thy hand! ’T is not a dream! 
Thy dear, dear hand ! — But, ah, ’t is wet! 
Why, wipe it off! Methinks that yet 
There ’s blood thereon. 

Ah, God! what hast thou done? 

Nay, sheathe thy sword at last! 

Do not affray me! 


FAUST. 


O, let the past be past! 
Thy words will slay me! 


MARGARET. 


No, no! Thou must outlive us. 

Now Ill tell thee the graves to give us: 
Thou must begin to-morrow 

The work of sorrow ! 

The best place give to my mother, 

Then close at her side my brother, 

And me a little away, 

But not too very far, I pray ! 

And here, on my right breast, my baby lay! 
Nobody else will lie beside me! — 

Ah, within thine arms to hide me, 

That was a sweet and a gracious bliss, 

But no more, no more can I attain it! 

I would force myself on thee and constrain it, 


SCENE XXYV. 213 


And it seems thou repellest my kiss: 
And yet ’t is thou, so good, so kind to see! 


FAUST. 
If thou feel’st it is I, then come with me! 


MARGARET. 
Out yonder ? 
FAUST. 
To freedom. 
MARGARET. 


If the grave is there, 
Death lying in wait, then come! 
From here to eternal rest: 
No further step — no, no! 
Thou goest away! O Henry, if I could go! 


FAUST. 
Thou canst! Just will it! Open stands the door. 


MARGARET. 


I dare not go: there ’s no hope any more. 

Why should I fly? They'll still my steps waylay ! 
It is so wretched, forced to beg my living, 

And a bad conscience sharper misery giving ! 

It is so wretched, to be strange, forsaken, 

And I'd still be followed and taken ! 


FAUST. 
I ’ll stay with thee. 
MARGARET. 
Be quick! Be quick! 
Save thy perishing child ! 
Away! Follow the ridge 


214 FAUST. 


Up by the brook, 

Over the bridge, 

Into the wood, 

To the left, where the plank is placed 
In the pool! 

Seize it in haste! 

’T is trying to rise, 

*T is struggling still ! 

Save it! Save it! 


FAUST. 


Recall thy wandering will ! 
One step, and thou art free at last! 


MARGARET. 


If the mountain we had only passed ! 

There sits my mother upon a stone, — 

I feel an icy shiver ! 

There sits my mother upon a stone, 

And her head is wagging ever. 

She beckons, she nods not, her heavy head falls o’er ; 
She slept so long that she wakes no more. 

She slept, while we were caressing : 

Ah, those were the days of blessing! 


FAUST. 


Here words and prayers are nothing worth ; 
Ill venture, then, to bear thee forth. 


MARGARET. 7 


No—let me go! Ill suffer no force! 
Grasp me not so murderously ! 
I ’ve done, else, all things for the love of thee. 


FAUST. 
The day dawns: Dearest! Dearest! 








SCENE XXV. 215 


MARGARET. 


Day? Yes, the day comes, — the last day breaks for me! 
My wedding-day it was to be ! '74 

Tell no one thou has been with Margaret ! 
Woe for my garland! The chances 

Are over — ’t is all in vain! 

We shall meet once again, 

But not at the dances! 

The crowd is thronging, no word is spoken : 
The square below 

And the streets overflow : 

The death-bell tolls, the wand is broken. 

I am seized, and bound, and delivered — 
Shoved to the block — they give the sign! 
Now over each neck has quivered 

The blade that is quivering over mine. 
Dumb lies the world like the grave! 


FAUST. 
O had I ne’er been born ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES (appears outside). 
Off! or you ’re lost ere morn. 
Useless talking, delaying and praying ! 
My horses are neighing : 
The morning twilight is near. 


MARGARET. 


What rises up from the threshold here ? 
He! he! suffer him not! 

What does he want in this holy spot ? 
He seeks me! 


FAUST. 
Thou shalt live. 


216 FAUST. 


MARGARET. 
Judgment of God! myself to thee I give. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (fo Faust). 
Come! or I ’ll leave her in the lurch, and thee! 


MARGARET. 


Thine am I, Father! rescue me! 

Ye angels, holy cohorts, guard me,"75 
Camp around, and from evil ward me! 
Henry! I shudder to think of thee. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
She is judged !1%6 


VOICE { from above). 
She is saved ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES (fo FAUST.) 
Hither to me! 


(He disappears with Faust ) 


VOICE (from within, dying away). 
Henry! Henry! 





AKL LO 


NOTES. 


Denn bei den alten lieben Todten 
Braucht man Erklarung, will man Noten ; 
Die Neuen glaubt man blank zu verstehn, 
Doch ohne Dolmetsch wird’s auch nicht gehn. 
GorTHE 





INTRODUCTION. 


oa 


N a work which has been the subject of such extensive 

and continual comment, the passages which seem to re- 
quire elucidation have, for the most part, been already de- 
termined. At every point where the reader is supposed to 
be doubtful in regard to the true path, not one, but a score 
of tracks has been prepared for him. From the exhaustive 
and somewhat wearisome work of Diintzer to the latest crit- 
ical essay which has issued from the German press, the ref- 
erences in the text to contemporary events or fashions of 
thought have been detected ; the words of old or new coin- 
age have been tested and classified ; and the obscure pas- 
sages have received such a variety of interpretation, that 
they finally grow clear again by the force of contrast. 

My first intention was, to give the substance of German 
criticism concerning both parts of Faust; but the further I 
advanced, the more unprofitable appeared such a plan. The 
work itself grew in clearness and coherence in proportion as 
I withdrew from the cloudy atmosphere of its interpreters. 
I have examined every commentary of importance, from 
Schubarth (1820) and Hinrichs (1825) to Kreyssig (1866), 
with this advantage, at least, — that each and all have led 
me back to find in the author of Faust his own best com- 
mentator. After making acquaintance, sometimes at the 





220 FAUST. 


cost of much patience, with the theories of many sincere 
though self-asserting minds, and ascertaining what marvel- 
lous webs of meaning may be spun by the critic around a 
point of thought, simple enough in its poetical sense, I have 
always returned to Goethe’s other works, to his correspond- 
ence (especially with Schiller and Zelter) and his conver- 
sations, sure of gaining new light and refreshment.* 

I should only confuse the reader by attempting to set forth 
all the forms of intellectual, ethical, or theological signifi- 
cance which have been attached to the characters of Faust. 
The intention of the work, reduced to its simplest element, 
is easily grasped ; but if every true poet builds larger than 
he knows, this drama, completed by the slow accretion of 
sixty years of thought, may be assumed to have a vaster 
background of design, change, and reference than almost 
anything else in Literature. Like an old Gothic pile, its 
outline is sometimes obscured in a labyrinth of details, 
While, in the Notes which succeed, it will now and then be 
Necessary for me to give the conflicting interpretations, I 
shall endeavor to wander from the text as little as possible, 
and, even when dealing with enigmas, to keep open a way 
past, if not through them. The embarrassing abundance 
of the material is somewhat diminished for me by the omis- 
sion of all technical or philological criticism, and my chief 
task will be to distinguish between those helps which all 


* I am glad to find that this method, drawn from my own experience, is 
substantially confirmed by Mr. Lewes, who, in his Li/e of Goethe (Book 
VI.), says: “Critics usually devote their whole attention to an exposi- 
tion of the Idea of Faust; and it seems to me that in this laborious 
esearch after a remote explanation they have overlooked the more obvious 
and natural explanation furnished by the work itself The reader who 
has followed me thus far will be aware that I have little sympathy with 
that Philosophy of Art which consists in translating Art into Philosophy, 
and that I trouble myself, and him, very little with ‘ considerations on the 
Idea.’ Experience tells me that the Artists themselves had quite other 
objects in view than that of developing an Idea; and experience further 
says that the Artist’s public is by no means primarily anxious about the 
Idea, but leaves it entirely to the critics, — who cannot agree upon the 
point among themselves.” 


NOTES. Bae 


readers require and the points which are interesting only to 
special students of the work. 

In many instances, I have simply illustrated the text 
. by parallel passages. Where I have discovered these, in 
Goethe’s works or correspondence, they have often been of 
service in suggesting (in the absence of any direct evidence) 
the probable time when certain scenes were written, and 
thereby the interests or influences which may have then 
swayed the author’s mind. The variation in tone between 
different parts of the work, though sometimes very delicate, 
is always perceptible ; and the reader to whom the original 
is an unknown tongue needs all the side-lights which can be 
thrown upon its translated forms. 

The “ Paralipomena” (Supplementary Fragments) to Faust 
nave not heretofore been given by any English translator. 
Yet in a work of such importance we may also learn from 
what the author has omitted, not less than from what he 
has accepted. The variations made in his original design 
assist us to a clearer comprehension of the design itself I 
consider, therefore, that the passages of the “‘ Paralipomena”’ 
have, properly, the character of explanatory notes ; and for 
this reason I have inserted each, as nearly as possible, in its 
appropriate place, instead of giving them in a body, as in 
the standard German edition of Goethe. 

Perhaps the most satisfactory commentary on Faust would 
be a biography of Goethe, written with special reference to 
this one work. In the Chronology of Faust (Appendix IT.) 
I have given such particulars as are necessary to the illus- 
tration of its interrupted yet life-long growth. It has not 
been found possible to combine the Notes and the Chro- 
nology without confusing the material; yet the two should 
be taken as parallel explanations, which the reader needs to 
follow at the same time. In conclusion, let me beg him not 
to be discouraged, if, on the first reading, the meaning of 
some passages, and their significance as portions of an * in- 
commensurable” plan,—as Goethe himself characterized 
it, —should not be entirely clear. When he has become 


222 FAUST. 


familiar with the history of the work, and is able to overlook 
it as a whole, the fitness — or the unfitness— of the multi- 
tude of parts becomes gradually evident; the compressed 
meanings expand into breadth and distinctness; and even 
those enigmas which seem to defy an ultimate analysis will 
charm him by dissolving into new ones, or by showing him 
forms of thought which fade and change as he seeks to re- 
tain them. 








NOTES. 


ese 


I. DEDICATION. 


The Dedication was certainly not written earlier than the 
year 1797, when Goethe, encouraged by Schiller’s hearty in- 
terest in the work, determined to complete the “ Fragment ” 
of the First Part of Faust, published in 1790. Twenty-four 
years had therefore elapsed since the first scenes of the work 
were written: the poet was forty-eight years old, and the 
conceptions which had haunted him in his twenty-first year 
seemed already to belong to a dim and remote Past The 
shadowy forms of the drama, which he again attempts to 
seize and hold, bring with them the phantoms of the friends 
to whom his earliest songs were sung. Of these friends, his 
sister Cornelia, Merck, Lenz, Basedow, and Gotter were 
dead ; Klopstock, Lavater, and the Stolbergs were estranged ; 
and Jacobi, Klinger, Kestner, and others were separated 
from him by the circumstances of their lives. Gotter died 
in March, 1797, and, as it is evident from Goethe’s letters 
to Schiller that he worked upon Faust only in the months 
of May and June, in that year, the Dedication was probably 
then written. 

Nothing of Goethe has been more frequently translated 
than these four stanzas, — and nothing, I may add, is more 
difficult to the translator. 


224 FAUST. 


2. PRELUDE ON THE STAGE. 


I am unable to ascertain precisely when this was written: 
from Goethe’s correspondence, some inferences, which point 
to the year 1798, may be drawn. It is unnecessary to follow 
the critics in their philosophical analyses of this prelude, 
which is sufficiently explained by calling it a “ poetic pref- 
ace” to the work. Gdéschen’s edition of Goethe’s works, in 
1790, had not been a successful venture: the “ Fragmeut ” 
of Faust, although fully appreciated by the few, seemed to 
have made no impression upon the public, while it had been 
assailed and ridiculed by the author’s many literary enemies. 
Goethe always published his poetical works without’ a pref- 
ace; but in the “ Prelude on the Stage”’ he makes use of 
the characters to contrast the Poet’s purest activity with the 
tastes and desires of the Public, two classes of which are 
represented by the Manager and Merry-Andrew. The dia- 
logue indicates, in advance, the various elements — imagina- 
tion, fancy, shrewd experience, folly, and ‘‘ dramatic non- 
sense ” — which will be woven into the work. At the same 
time, it indirectly admits and accounts for the author’s un- 
popularity, and the lack of recognition which he still antici- 
pates. 


3. The posts are set, the booth of boards completed. 


The “booth of boards” purposely refers to the rude, 
transportable puppet theatres in which Goethe first saw 
Faust represented. There is already a foreshadowing of 
some of the qualities of Faust and Mephistopheles in the 
Poet and Manager. 


4. They come to look, and they prefer to stare. 

Goethe writes, in 1802 (‘‘ Wermarisches Hoftheater”) : “One 
can show the public no greater respect than in forbearing to 
treat itasamob. The mob hurry unprepared to the theatre, 
demand that which may be immediately enjoyed, desire to 
stare, be amazed, laugh, weep, and therefore compel the 
managers, who are dependent on them, to descend more or 
ss to their level.” 


NOTES. 225 


5 Who offers much, brings something unto many. 
“One should give his works the greatest possible variety 
and excellence, so that each reader may be able to select 
something for himself, and thus, in his own way, become a 
participant.” — Goethe to Schiller (1798). 


6. This, aged Strs, belongs to you. 

It is the Poets whom the Merry-Andrew thus addresses. 
His assertion of the perpetual youth of Genius is not ironi- 
cal, but (as appears from the Manager’s remarks) is intended 
as a compliment. 

“To carry on the feelings of childhood into the powers of 
manhood, to combine the child’s sense of wonder and nov- 
eity with the appearances which every day, for perhaps forty 
years, had rendered familiar, — 


* Both sun and moon, and stars throughout the year, 
And man and woman,’ — 


this is the character and privilege of genius, and one of the 
marks which distinguish genius from talent.” — Coleridge. 


7. From Heaven, across the World, to Hell. 


Goethe says to Eckermann (in 1827): “ People come and 
ask, what idea I have embodied in my Faust? Asif I knew, 
myself, and could express it! ‘roms Heaven, across the 
World, to Hell’ —that might answer, if need were; but it 
is not an idea, only the course of the action.” 

The reference in this line, curiously enough, is to the 
course of action in the old Faust-Legend, not to the close of 
the Second Part, the scene of which is laid in Heaven, in- 
stead of Hell. Yet at the time when the line was written 
the project of the Second Part —in outline, at least — was 
completed. Did Goethe simply intend to keep his secret 
from the reader? 


& PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. 


Some of Goethe’s commentators suppose that this Pro- 
logue was added by him, from the circumstance that the 
10 * Oo 


226 FAUST. 


design of Faust was not understood, in the “ Fragment ”’ first 
published. It appears to have been written in June, 1797, 
before the “ Prelude on the Stage,” and chiefly for the pur- 
pose of setting forth the moral and intellectual problem 
which underlies the drama. Although possibly suggested 
vy the Prologue in Hell of two of the puppet-plays, its 
character is evidently drawn from the interviews of Satan 
with the Lord, in the first and second chapters of Job. 
Upon this point, Goethe (in 1825) said to Eckermann: 
‘‘My Mephistopheles sings a song of Shakespeare ; and why 
should he not? Why should I give myself the trouble to 
compose a new song, when Shakespeare’s was just the right 
one, saying exactly what was necessary? If, therefore, the 
scheme of my Faust has some resemblance to that of Job, 
that is also quite right, and I should be praised rather than 
c~nsured on account of it.” 

The earnest reader will require no explanation of the 
problem propounded in the Prologue. Goethe states it 
without obscurity, and solves it in no uncertain terms at 
the close of the Second Part. The mocking irreverence of 
Mephistopheles, in the presence of the Lord, although it 
belongs to the character which he plays throughout, seems 
to have given some difficulty to the early English transla- 
tors. Lord Leveson Gower terminates the Prologue with the 
Chant of the Archangels; Mr. Blackie omits it entirely, but 
adds it in an emasculated form, as an Appendix ; while Dr. 
Anster satisfies his spirit of reverence by printing DER HERR 
where the English text requires, ‘“‘The Lord.” Coleridge’s 
charge of “blasphemy” evidently refers to this Prologue ; 
but at the time when he made the charge, Coleridge was 
hardly capable of appreciating the spirit in which Faust was 
written. 

It is very clear, from hints which Goethe let fall, that he 
at one time contemplated the introduction into Faust of the 
doctrine ascribed to Origen, — that it was possible for Satan 
to repent and be restored to his former place as an angel of 
light. Falk reports Goethe as saying: ‘“ Yet even the clever 
Madame de Staél was greatly scandalized that I kept the 





NOTES. 227 


devil in such good-humor. In the presence of God the 
Father, she insisted upon it, he ought to be more grim and 
spiteful. What will she say if she sees him promoted a sten 
higher, — nay, perhaps, meets him in heaven?” On another 
occasion, he exclaimed (if we may trust Falk): ‘“‘ At bottom, 
the most of us do not know how either to love or to hute. 
They ‘don’t like’ me! An insipid phrase!—JI don’t like 
them either. Especially when, after my death, my Walpur- 
gis-Sack comes to be opened, and all the tormenting Stygian 
spirits, imprisoned until then, shall be let loose to plague all 
even as they plagued me ; or if, in the continuation of Faust, 
they should happen to come upon a passage where the 
Devil himself receives Grace and Mercy from God, — that. 
I should say, they would not soon forgive !” 


9. CHANT OF THE ARCHANGELS. 


The three Archangels advance in the order of their dignity, 
as it is given in the “Celestial Hierarchy” of Dionysius 
Areopagita; who was also Dante’s authority on this point 
(Paradiso, Canto XXVIII). Raphael, the inferior, com- 
mences, and Michael, the chief, closes the chant. 

Shelley speaks of this “astonishing chorus,” and very 
truly says: “It is impossible to represent in another lan- 
guage the melody of the versification: even the volatile 
strength and delicacy of the ideas escape in the crucible of 
translation, and the reader is surprised to find a caput mor 
tuum.” 

I shall not, however, imitate Shelley in adding a litera} 
translation. Here, more than in almost any other poem, 
the words acquire a new and indescribable power from their 
rhythmical collocation. The vast, wonderful atmosphere of 
space which envelops the lines could not be retained in 
prose, however admirably literal. The movement of the 
original is as important as its meaning. Shelley’s transla- 
tion of the stanzas, however, is preferable to Hayward's, 
which contains five inaccuracies. 

The magnificent word Donnergang — ‘“‘ thunder-march” 


228 FAUST. 


(first stanza, fourth line)—had already occurred in a fine 
line of one of Schiller’s earliest poems, — “ Elysium” :— 


** Berge bebten unter dessen Donnergang.”’ 


10. Pardon, this troop I cannot follow after. 


Mephistopheles here refers to the Chant of the Archan- 
gels. His mocking spirit is at once manifested in these 
lines, and in his ironical repetition of ‘‘ the earliest day.” 


11. While Man’s desires and aspirations stir, 
He cannot choose but err. 


The original of this is the single, weil-known line: Zs srvvt 
der Mensch, so lang er strebt. It has seemed to me impossi- 
ble to give the full meaning of these words — that error is a 
natural accompaniment of the struggles and aspirations of 
Man—in a single line. Here, as in a few other places, I do 
not feel bouad to confine myself to the exact measure and 
limit of the original. The reader may be interested in com- 
paring some other versions : — 

HAYWARD. — Man is liable to error, while his struggle 
lasts. 

ANSTER. — Man’s hour on Earth is weakness, error, strife. 

Brooks. — Man errs and staggers from his birth. 

SWANWICK. — Man, while he striveth, is prone to err. 

BLACKIE. — Man must still err, so long he strives. 

MARTIN. — Man, while his struggle lasts, is prone to stray. 

BERESFORD. — Man errs as long as lasts his strife. 

BIRCH. — Man ’s prone to err in acquisition. (!) 

BLaze. — L’homme s’égare, tant qu’il cherche son but. 


12, A good man, through obscurest aspiration, 
Has still an instinct of the one true way. 

In these lines the direction of the plot is indicated. They 
suggest, in advance, its moral dénouement, at the close of 
the Second Part. Goethe, on one occasion, compared the 
“ Prologue in Heaven” to the overture of Mozart’s Don 
Giovanni, in which a certain musical phrase occurs which is 


NOTES. 229 


not repeated until the fale; and his comparison had refer- 
ence to the idea expressed in these lines. 


13. But ye, God's sons in love and duty. 

Here the Lord, turning away from Mephistopheles, sud- 
denly addresses the Archangels and the Heavenly Hosts. 
The expression Das Werdende, in the third following line, 
which I have translated ‘ Creative Power,” means, literally, 
“that which is developing into being.”’ Shelley, who was 
not, and did not pretend to be, a good German scholar, en- 
tirely misses the meaning of the closing quatrain, notwith- 
standing he avoids the rhymed translation. His lines, 

* Let that which ever operates and lives 
Clasp you within the limits of its love ; 


And seize with sweet and melancholy thought 
The floating phantoms of its loveliness,” 


have nothing of the suggestive force and fulness of the origi- 
nal. 

Hayward quotes, apparently from a private letter, Carlyle’s 
interpretation of the passage: “ There is, clearly, no trans- 
lating of these lines, especially on the spur of the moment ; 
yet it seems to me that the meaning of them is pretty dis- 
tinct. The Lord has just remarked, that man (poor fellow) 
needs a devil, as travelling companion, to spur him on by 
means of Denial ; whereupon, turning round (to the angels 
and other perfect characters), he adds, ‘ But ye, the genuine 
sons of Heaven, joy ye in the living fulness of the beautiful 
(not of the logical, practical, contradictory, wherein man toils 
imprisoned): let Being (or Existence), which is everywhere 
a glorious birth, into higher being, as it forever works and 
lives, encircle you with the soft ties of love ; and whatsoever 
wavers in the doubtful empire of appearance’ (as all earthly 
things do), ‘that do ye, by enduring thought, make firm.’ 
Thus would Das Werdende, the thing that is a-being, mean 
no less than the universe (the visible universe) itself ; and I 
paraphrase it by ‘ Existence, which is everywhere a birth, 
mto higher Existence,’ and make a comfortable enough kind 
of sense out of that quatrain.” 


230 FAUST. 


The intention of the passage, we might suppose, is suffi- 
ciently clear. It was Goethe’s habit, as an author. to quietly 
ignore the conventional theology of his day: yet Mr. He- 
raud insists that “‘The Lord” of the Prologue is the Sec- 
ond Person of the Trinity, and that the four lines com- 
mencing with Das Werdende are simply another fcrm of 
invoking “the fellowship of the Holy Ghost!” The 
unusual construction of these lines —the first half implying 
a benediction, and the second half a command — has been 
retained in the translation. 


14. Faust’s Monologue. 


This scene, from its commencement to the close of Wag. 
ner’s interview with Faust, was probably written as early as 
1773. In style, as well as in substance, it suggests the pup- 
pet-play rather than the published Faust legend. In Wasr- 
het und Dichtung, Goethe says, in describing his intercourse 
with Herder, in Strasburg (1770): “The puppet-play echoed 
and vibrated in many tones through my mind. I, also, had 
gone from one branch of knowledge to another, and was 
early enough convinced of the vanity of all. I had tried life 
in many forms, and the experience had left me only the more 
unsatisfied and worried. I now carried these thoughts about 
with me, and indulged myself in them, in lonely hours, but 
without committing anything to writing. Most of all, I 
concealed from Herder my mystic-cabalistic chemistry, and 
everything connected with it.” 

The text of various puppet-plays, which has been recov- 
ered by Simrock, Von der Hagen, and other zealous (;erman 
scholars, enables us to detect the source of Goethe’s concep- 
tion, —the original corner-stone whereupon he builded. In 
the play, as given in Ulm and Strasburg, there is a brief 
Prologue in Hell, in which Pluto orders the temptation of 
Faust. Notwithstanding the variation of the action in the 
different plays, the opening scene possesses very much the 
same character in all of them. As performed by Schiitz, 
about the beginning of this century, Faust is represented as 
seated at a table, upon which lies an open book. His 


NOTES. 231 


soliloyay commences thus: “ With all my learning, I, 
Johannes Faust, have accomplished just so much, that I 
must vlush with self-shame. I am ridiculed everywhere, 
no one reads my books, all despise me. How fain am I to 
become more perfect! Therefore I am rigidly resolved to 
instruct myself in necromancy.” 

In Geisselbrecht’s puppet-play, Faust also sits at a table 
and curns over the leaves of a book. He says: “I seek for 
learning in this book and cannot find it. Though I study all 
books from end to end, I cannot discover the touchstone of 
wisdom. O, how unfortunate art thou, Faust! I have all 
along thought that my luck must change, but in vain..... 
O Fatherland! thus thou rewardest my industry, my labor, 
the sleepless nights I have spent in fathoming the mysteries 
of Theology! But,no! By Heaven, I will no longer delay, 
I will take upon myself all labor, so that I may penetrate 
into that which is concealed, and fathom the mysteries. of 
nature !”” 

In the Augsburg puppet-play, Faust exclaims: ‘I, too, 
have long investigated, have gone through all arts and 
sciences. I became a Theologian, consulted authorities, 
weighed all, tested all, — polemics, exegesis, dogmatism. 
All was babble: nothing breathed of Divinity! I became a 
Jurist, endeavored to become acquainted with Justice, and 
learned how to distort justice. I found ag idol, shaped 
by the hands of self-interest and self-conceit, a bastard of 
Justice, not herself. I became a Physician, intending to 
learn the human structure, and the methods of supporting it 
when it gives way ; but I found not what I sought, —I only 
found the art of methodically murdering men. I became a 
Philosopher, desiring to know the soul of man, to catch 
Truth by the wings and Wisdom by the forelock ; and I 
found shadows, vapors, follies, bound into a system!” 

The reader is referred to the ‘“‘ Faust-Legend ”’ (Appen- 
dix I.) for further information concerning these plays. I 
have given the above quotations, to indicate Goethe's start- 
ing-point — which is also his point of divergence — from the 
popular story. 


232 FAUST. 


I have also added the opening scene of Marlowe’s “ Faus- 
tus” (Appendix III.) for the sake of convenient compari. 
son. 

15. Fly! Up, and seck the broad, free land ! 


‘“* Moreover, there are forces which increase one’s produc. 
tiveness in rest and sleep ; but they are also found in move. 
ment. There are such forces in water, and especially in the 
atmosphere. In the fresh air of the open fields is where we 
properly belong; it is as if the Spirit of God is there imme- 
diately breathed upon man, and a divine power exercises its 
influence over him.” — Goethe to Eckermann (1828). 


16. From Nostradamus’ very hand. 


The astrologer Nostradamus (whose real name was 
Michel de Nétre-Dame) was born at St. Remy, in Provence, 
in the year 1503. At first celebrated as a physician, he 
finally devoted himself to astrology, and published, in 1555. 
a collection of prophecies in rhymed quatrains, entitled Les 
Prophecies de Michel Nostradamus, which created an imme- 
diate sensation, and found many believers ; especially as 
the death of Henry II. of France seemed to verify one of 
his mystical predictions. He was appointed physician to 
Charles IX. and continued the publication of his prophe- 
cies, asserting, however, that the study of the planetary 
aspects was nat alone sufficient, but that the gift of second- 
sight, which God grants only to a few chosen persons, is 
also necessary. He died in the year 1566; and even as late 
as the year 1781 his prophecies were included in the Roman 
Index Expurgatorius, for the reason that they declare the 
downfall of the Papacy. 


17. The Sign of the Macrocosm. 


The term “ Macrocosm ” was used by Pico di Mirandola, 
Paracelsus, and other mystical writers, to denote the uni- 
verse. They imagined a mysterious correspondence between 
the Macrocosm (the world in large) and the Microcosm (the 
world in little), or Man; and most of the astrological theo- 
ries were based on the influence of the former upon the latter. 


NOTES. 233 


From some of Goethe’s notes, still in existence, we learn 
that during the time when the conception of Faust first 
occupied his mind (1770- 73), he read Welling’s Opus Mago- 
Cabbalisticum, Paracelsus, Valentinus, the Aurea Catena Ho- 
meri, and even the Latin poet Manilius. 

Mr. Blackie, in his Notes, quotes a description of the 
Macrocosm from a Latin work of Robert Fludd, published 
at Oppenheim in 1619; but the theory had already been 
given in the Aeftap/us of Pico di Mirandola (about 1490). 
The universe, according to him, consists of three worlds, 
the earthly, the heavenly, and the super-heavenly. The first 
includes our planet and its enveloping space, as far as 
the orbit of the moon; the second, the sun and stars ; the 
third, the governing Divine influences. The same phenom- 
ena belong to each, but have different grades of manifesta- 
tion. Thus the physical element of fire exists in the earthly 
sphere, the warmth of the sun in the heavenly, anda seraphic, 
spiritual fire in the empyrean; the first burns, the second 
quickens, the third loves. ‘In addition to these three 
worlds (the Macrocosm),” says Pico, “ there is a fourth (the 
Microcosm), containing all embraced within them. This is 
Man, in whom are included a body formed of the elements, 
a heavenly spirit, reason, an angelic soul, and a resemblance 
to God.” 

The work of Cornelius Agrippa, De Occulta Philosophia, 
which was also known to Goethe, contains many references 
to these three divisions of the Macrocosm, and their recip- 
rocal influences. The latter are described in the passage 
commencing : “ How each the Whole its substance gives!” 

Hayward quotes, as explanatory of these lines, the follow- 
ing sentence from Herder’s /dcen zur Philosophie der Ge- 
schichte der Menschhetz: “ When, therefore, I open the great 
book of Heaven, and see before me this measureless palace, 
which alone, and everywhere, the Godhead only has power 
to fill, I conclude, as undistractedly as I can, from the whole 
to the particular, and from the particular to the whole.” 

The four lines which Faust apparently quotes (‘“ What 
says the sage, now first I recognize”) are not from Nostra- 


234 FAUST. 


damus. They may possibly have been suggested by some- 
thing in Jacob Boehme’s first wurk, ‘‘ Aurora, or the Rising 
Dawn,” but it is not at all necessary that they should be an 
actual quotation. 


18 Zhe Sign of the Earth-Spirit. 

“The Archzus of the Orphic doctrine, the spirit of the 
elementary world, of the powerful, multiformed earthly uni- 
verse, to which Faust feels himself nearer.” — Diseézer. 

“The mighty and multiform universality of the Earth 
itself.”” — FalZ. 

“But few succeed in calling up, that is to say, grasping 
in inspired contemplation, — the Earth-Spirit, the spirit of 
History, of the movement of the human race ; and still fewer 
is the number of those who can endure the ‘ form of flame,’ — 
whose individuality is strong enough not to be swallowed up 
in it.” — Xreyssig. 


19. J the tides of Life, in Action’s storm. 

This chant of the Earth-Spirit recalls the “ Creative Power 
which eternally works and lives” in the Prologue in Heaven. 
The closing line may have been suggested by a passage in 
the work, De Sensu Rerum, of the Dominican monk, Campa- 
nella: “ Mundus ergo totus est sensus, vita, anima, corpus 
statua Dei altissimi.”” The “living garment of the Deity,” 
however, is a much finer expression. The Spirit’s chant 
probably lingered in Shelley's memory, when he wrote : — 


** Nature’s vast frame — the web of human things, 
Birth and the grave.”’ 


20. O Death !—T know it — tts my Famulus! 


The Latin word /amulus (servant) was appliec, in the 
Middle Ages, to the shield-bearers of the knights, and also 
to persons owing the obligation of service to the feudal 
lords. The Famulus of Faust, however, is at the same time 
a student, an amanuensis, an assistant in his laboratory, and 
a servitor, in the academic sense. The term is still applied, 





NOTES. 235 


i the German Universities, to those poor students who fill 
various minor offices for the sake of eking out their means 
by the small salaries attached to them. 


21. WAGNER. 

The name— and perhaps also the primal suggestion of 
the character —of Faust’s Famulus is taken from the old 
legend, in which Christopher Wagner (see Appendix I.). 
after Faust’s tragic end, succeeds to his knowledge and en- 
ters on a similar, if not so brilliant a career. 

It is an interesting coincidence that one of Goethe’s early 
associates, during his residence in Strasburg and Frankfort, 
was Heinrich Leopold Wagner (who died in 1779), and who 
was also an author. Goethe not only read to him the early 
scenes of Faust, but imparted to him, in confidence, the fate 
of Margaret, as he meant to develop it; and Wagner was 
faithless enough to make use of the material for a tragedy 
of his own — Zhe /n/anticide— which was published in 
1776. Schiller’s poem, with the same title (apparently sug- 
gested by Wagner’s play), and Biirger’s ballad of ‘‘ The 
Pastor of Taubenheim’s Daughter,” in which the subject is 
very similar, were both written in the year 1781. 

According to Hinrichs, Faust represents Philosophy, and 
Wagner Empiricism. Diintzer calls the latter “ the repre- 
sentative of dead pedantry, of knowledge mechanically ac- 
quired ” ; while other critics consider that he symbolizes the 
Philistine element in German life, — the hopelessly material, 
prosaic, and commonplace. Deycks says of Wagner: “ His 
thoroughly prosaic nature forms the sharpest contrast to 
Faust, and it is impossible for him to enter into any rela- 
tion with Mephistopheles, because he restricts himself to 
beaten tracks, and is repelled by all tricksy wantonness, even 
by all fresh, natural indulgence. He is the driest caricature 
of pure rational, formal knowledge, without living thought or 
poetry, and especially without religion.” 

It was probably enough for Goethe that Wagner furnishes 
a dramatic contrast of character, —a foil to the boundless 
ideal cravings of Faust. He betrays his nature in the very 





236 FA OST. 


first words he utters, and is so admirably consistent through- 
out, that the reader is never at a loss how to interpret him. 


22. Where ye for men twist shredded thought like paper. 


This line, which reads, literally, “In which ye twist (or 
curl) paper-shreds for mankind,” has been curiously mis- 
understood by most translators. The article der befo.e 
Menschhett was supposed by Hayward to be in the genitive 
instead of the dative case, and he gives the phrase thus: “in 
which ye crisp the shreds of humanity”! Blackie even says 
“the shavings of mankind,” and most of the other English 
versions repeat the mistake, in one or another form. In the 
French of Blaze and Stapfer, however, the reading is correct. 
Goethe employs the word Schnitzel (shreds or clippings) as 
a contemptuous figure of speech for the manner in which 
thought is presented to mankind in the discourses described 
by Faust. Therefore by using the expression “shredded 
thought ” in English, the exact sense of the original is pre- 
served. 


23. Ah, God! but Art is long. 


Goethe was very fond of using the “ ars longa, vita brevis” 
of Hippocrates. It occurs again in Scene IV., where he 
puts it into the mouth of Mephistopheles. The American 
reader is already familiar with the phrase, from Mr. Long- 
fellow’s beautiful application of it, in his “ Psalm of Life.” 


24. Or, at the best, a Punch-and-Fudy play. 


The German phrase, /faupt-und Staats-action, was applied, 
about the end of the seventeenth century, to the popular 
puppet-plays which represented famous passages of history. 
It seems to have been, originally, a form of announcement 
invented by some proprietor of a wandering puppet-theatre, 
and may therefore be equivalently translated, as a “ First- 
Class Political) Performance!”’ The phrase was afterwards 
applied to plays acted upon the stage, and Goethe even 
makes use of it to designate Shakespeare’s historical dramas. 
in the puppet-plays the heroic figures (Alexander, Pompey, 





NOTES. 237 


Charlemagne, etc.) wére in the habit of uttering the most 
grandiloquent, oracular sentences ; they were as didactic in 
speech as they were reckless and melodramatic in action. 

The word pragmatical, which I have adopted as it stands 
in the original, has a somewhat different signification in Ger- 
man. It indicates — here, at least — a pedantic assumption 
and ostentation, in addition to the sense of meddlesome inter- 
ference which it possesses in English. 


25. Have evermore been crucified and burned. 


‘There were need,” said I, ‘‘ of a second Redeemer com- 
ing, to deliver us from the austerity, the discomfort and the 
tremendous pressure of the circumstances under which we 
live.” 

“If he should come,’’ Goethe answered, “the people 
would crucify him a second time.” — Goethe to Eckermann, 
1829. 

26. That so our learned talk might be extended. 


In “ Faust: a Fragment,” published in 1790, Wagner’s 
conversation terminates with this line. The first four lines 
of Faust’s following soliloquy are then added, and the scene 
suddenly ends. Then we abruptly break upon the conver- 
sation between Faust and Mephistopheles, in Scene IV., at 
the line, 

** And all of life for all mankind created.” 

The remainder of the Monologue, the scene before the city- 
gate, the first scene in Faust’s study, and all of the second 
as far as the line just quoted, were first published in the 
completed edition of 1808. It is very certain, however, that 
portions of these omitted scenes were written before 1790, 
and were then withheld on account of their incompleteness. 


27. A thunder-word hath swept me from my stand. 
Faust here refers to the reply of the Earth-Spirit : — 


** Thou ’rt like the spirit which thou comprehendest, 
Not me!” 


The overwhelming impression produced upon him by this 


238 FAUST. 


phrase is only suspended during Wagner’s visit, and now 
works with renewed force upon his morbid mood, until it 
swells to a natural climax. 


28. And here and there one happy man sits lonely. 


In the conversations of Goethe, recorded by Eckermann, 
Riemer, and Falk, he more than once, in referring to his 
early impressions of life, repeats the pessimistic idea con- 
tained in these lines. This was one of the causes which 
stirred in him the resolution to achieve, as far as possible, 
his own independent development. The subjective charac- 
ter of the early scenes of Faust is so clearly indicated that 
we should have recognized it without Goethe’s admission. 
In 1826, he said to Eckermann: “In Werther and Faust, I 
was obliged to delve in my own breast; for the source of 
that which I communicated lay near at hand.” 


29. Sought once the shining day, and then in twilight dull. 


The two adjectives in this line are /eicht (easy, buoyant) 
and schwer (heavy). Hartung thinks that the former is a 
misprint for /ick¢ (shining, bright) ; but he is evidently mis- 
taken, since the adjectives are chosen to express opposite 
qualities, and the phrase /ickten Tag occurs in the sixth line 
following. I have chosen English words which are not pre- 
cisely literal, but, by their antithetic character, convey a 
similar meaning. 


30. Earn it anew, to really possess it / 


It was a favorite maxim of Goethe that no man can really 
possess that which he has not personally acquired. He 
considered his own inherited wealth and the many opportu- 
nities of his life as means, the value of which must be meas- 
ured by the results attained by their use. On one occasion 
he said: “ Every 40 mot which I have uttered, has cost me 
a purse of money ; half a million of my private property has 
run through my hands, to enable me to learn what I know— 
not only the entire estate of my father, but also my salary 
and my considerable literary income for more than fifty 





NOTES. 239 


years.” At the close of the Second Part, he makes the 
aged Faust say : — 


‘“* He only earns his freedom and existence, 
Who daily conquers them anew.” 


31. On earth's fair sun I turn ny back. 


Here, again, Goethe recalls a phase of his own psychologi- 
cal experience, which he describes at some length in Wakhr- 
hetund Dichtung (Book XIII.). Even before Jerusalem’s 
suicide at Wetzlar had furnished him with the leading idea 
of Werther, he had been drawn, by what he calls the gloomy 
element in English literature, — especially by Ham/et, Young's 
Night Thoughts, and the melancholy rhapsodies of Ossian, 
—to study the phenomena of self-murder and apply them, 
in imagination, to himself. Among all the instances with 
which he was acquainted, none seemed to him nobler than 
that of the Emperor Otho, who, after a cheerful banquet 
with his friends, thrust a dagger into his heart. ‘ This was 
the only deed,” he says (and in what follows, I suspect, 
there is as much Dichtung as Wahrheit), “which seemed to 
me worthy of imitation, and I was convinced that one who 
could not act like Otho had no right to go voluntarily out 
of the world. Through this conviction I rescued myself 
both from the intention and the morbid fancy of suicide, 
which haunted an idle youth in those fair times of peace. 
I possessed a tolerable collection of weapons, wherein there 
was a valuable, keen-edged dagger. This I placed con- 
stantly beside my bed, and, before putting out the light, 
endeavored to try whether it was possible to pierce my 
breast, an inch or two deep, with the sharp point. Since, 
however, the experiment never succeeded, I finally laughed 
at myself, discarded all hypochondric distortions of fancy, 
and determined to live.” 


32. CHORUS OF ANGELS. 


In this first chorus I have been forced, by the prime neces- 
sity of preserving the meaning, to leave the second line un- 





240 FAUST. 


rhymed. The word schleivkenden, in the fourth line, whict 
I have endeavored to express by “clinging” (Hayward has 
‘‘ creeping,” Blackie “through his veins creeping,”’ and Dr. 
Hedge ‘‘trailing”), is nearly equivalent to the English 
phrase “dogging one’s steps.” The first.of the three Angelic 
Choruses rejoices over Christ’s release from Mortality, the. 
second exalts him as the “ Loving One,” and the third cele- 
brates his restoration to the Divine creative activity. 

Goethe heard a similar chant sung by the common people 
in Rome, in the year 1788; but his immediate model was 
undoubtedly the German Easter-hymn of the Middle Ages, 
many variations of which are given in Wackernagel’s work. 
One of these, dating from the thirteenth century, thus com- 


mences s: = 
‘* Christus ist erstanden 


gewaerliche von dem tdt, 
von allen sinen Banden 
ist er erledigét.”” 


(Christ is arisen 
verily from death ; 
From all his bonds 
is he released. } 


The universal Easter greeting, at this day, among the 
Greeks, is Christos aneste / and the answer: alethos aneste ! 
The same custom prevails throughout Russia, and in some 
parts of Catholic Germany. 

In 1772, Goethe, writing to Kestner on Christmas Day, 
says: “ The watchman on the tower trumpeted his hymn 
and awakened me: Praised be thou, Fesus Christ! 1 dearly 
love this time of the year, and the hymns that are sung.” 


33. And prayer dissolved me in a fervent bliss. 


Again Goethe recalls his own early memories. These 
lines describe the religious exaltation excited in his boyish 
nature by Fraulein von Klettenburg, whom he has intro- 
duced into Wilhelm Meister (Book VI.). in the “ Confessions 
of a Fair Spirit.” The above line suggests a passage of this 
episode : ‘Once I prayed, out of the depth of my heart: 


NOTES. 241 


‘now, Almighty One, give me faith!’ I was then in the 
condition in which one must be, but seldom is, when one’s 
prayers may be accepted by God. Who could paint what 
I then felt! A powerful impulse drew my soul to the Cross, 
on which Jesus perished. Thus my soul was near to Him 
who became Man and died on the Cross, and in that mo- 
men. I knew what faith is. ‘This is faith!’ I cried, and 
sprang up, almost as in terror. For such emotions as these, 
all words fail us.” 


34 Is He, in glow of birth, 
Rapture creative near ? 


These two lines, in the original, are a marvel of com- 
pressed expression. The closest literal translation is: “ Is 
He, in the bliss of developing into (higher) being, near to 
the joy of creating,” — that is, the bliss of being born into 
the higher life to which He has ascended is sca:cely less 
than the joy of the Divine creative activity. The "Disciples, 
left behind and still sharing the woes of Earth, pewail the 
beatitude which parts Him from them. 

The final Chorus of the Angels, which follows, is a stum- 
bling-block to the translator, on account of its fivefold dac- 
tylic rhyme. The lines are, literally : — 


Actively praising him, 
Manifesting love, 
Brotherly giving food, 
Preaching, travelling, 
Promising blessedness, 

To you is the Master near, 
To you, He is here! 


In order to retain the rhyme, I have been obliged to express 
a little more prominently the idea of ‘‘ Inasmuch as ye have 
done it unto the least of one of these my brethren, ye have 
done it unto me,” — which is implied in the original. Dr. 
Hedge, I believe, is the only one who has hitherto endeav- 
ored to reproduce the difficult structure of this Chorus. He 
thus translates the five rhymes : — 
VOL. I. F P 


242 FAUST. 
“ Active in chanty 
Praise him in verity ! 
His feast, prepare it ye ! 
His message, bear it ye f 
His joy, declare it ye 1” 


35- BEFORE THE CitTy-GATE. 


Goethe’s landscapes, like those of an artist, were always 
drawn from real studies ;# and some of his commentators, 
therefore, have tried to discover the original of this scene. 
Strasburg, Frankfurt, and even Weimar, have been sug- 
gested ; but the first of these places, on the level plain of 
the Rhine, does not fit the description ; while, judging from 
internal evidence, the opening of the scene must have been 
written before Goethe’s migration to Weimar. Such fea- 
tures as the river and vessels, the ferry, the suburban places 
of resort, and the view of the town from a neighboring 
height, indicate Frankfurt ; and the gay, motley life of the 
multitude is another point of resemblance. 


30. ’Tss true, she showed me, on Saint Andrew's Night. 

St. Andrew’s Night is the 29th of November. It is cele- 
brated, in some parts of Germany, by forms of divination 
very similar to those which are practised in Scotland on 
Hallow E’en (October 31st). The maidens, as in Keats’s 
Eve of St. Agnes, believe that by calling upon St. Andrew, 
naked, before getting into bed, the future sweetheart will 
appear to them in a dream. Another plan is, to pour melted 
lead through the wards of a key wherein there is the form 
of a cross, into a basin of water fetched between eleven 
o'clock and midnight: the cooling lead will then take the 
form of tools which indicate the trade of the destined lover. 


37- She showed me mine, in crystal clear. 
A magi crystal, sometimes in the form of a sphere, but 
© The sceve of his Elective A fisities, for mstance, has recently been 
discovered at Wilhelmsthal, near Eisenach. Not only the castle, park, 


and lake, but even the wood-paths and the minutest features of the sur 
rounding landscape, are described with almost topograplical exactpess. 


NOTES. 243 


frequently, no doubt, as a lens, was employed for the pur- 
pose of divination. The methods, in fact, were varied to 
suit the superstition which employed them. In Pictor’s 
“‘ Varieties of Ceremonial Magic ” (given in Scheible’s X7Zas- 
tr), twenty-seven forms of divination are described at length, 
but Crystallomancy is not among them. The ancients em- 
ployed between forty and fifty different methods. 


38. Released from te are brook and river. 


If this passage was not added, or at least re-written, be- 
tween 1797 and 1808, — as is possible, —it is interesting as 
one of the first evidences of Goethe’s interest in Color, an 
interest which finally developed into a passion, and quite 
deceived him in regard to the importance of his observations. 
His Farbenlekre (Science of Colors) was commenced in 1790 
and completed in 1805, the year of Schiller’s death, although 
it was not published forfour or five years afterwards. Either, 
therefore, the allusions to color in this early scene harmo- 
nized with the author’s later views, or they were afterwards 
changed for the sake of harmony. 


39. <All for the dance the shepherd dressed. 


There is a reference to this song of the shepherds in Wsl- 
helws Meister (Apprenticeship), where Philine says: “‘ Old 
man, dost thou know the melody: “All for the danoe the 
shepherd dressed ”?° ‘Oh, yes,’ he replied, ‘if you will sing 
and represent the song, I shall not fail in my part.’ Philine 
arose and stood in readiness. The old man struck up the 
melody, and she sang a song which we cannot communicate 
to our readers, because they perhaps might find it absurd 
or even improper.” This portion of Wilkelm Meister was 
published in 1795, which is another evidence of the early 
origin of the scene. The graceful measure of the song, 
which nevertheless expresses the roughest realism of Ger- 
man peasant-life, can only be approximately given in another 
language. 

This episode, also, is suggested by Goetne’s earliest mem- 
ories of the various popular festivals in Frankfurt. In Wahr- 


244 FAUST. 


heit und Dichtung (Book I.), he says: ‘On the right bank 
of the Main, below the city, there is a sulphur spring, neatlr 
enclosed, and surrounded with immemorial linden-trees 
Not far from it stands the ‘Good People’s Hall,’ formerly 
an hospital, built on account of this spring. The cattle of 
the neighborhood were brought together upon the adjoining 
commons, on a certain day of the year, and the herdsmen, 
with their maidens, had a rural festival, with dances and 
songs, with merriment and rough pranks. . . . The nurses 
and maids, who are always ready to treat themselves to a 
walk, never failed, from our earliest years, to take us with 
them to such places, so that these country diversions are 
among the very first impressions which I now recall.” 


40. Sir Doctor, tt ts good of you. 

It is very rarely that the first and third lines of a quatrain 
are unrhymed in German. I have no doubt that Goethe in- 
tended to represent, by a less musical verse, the more pro- 
saic nature and speech of the common people. The words 
he employs in the two addresses of the Old Peasant are the 
simplest and plainest ; the fone of the verse is entirely that 
of prose. 


41. Then also you, though but a youth. 


Diintzer conjectures that Goethe derived the idea of this 
helpful activity of Faust, upon which rests the episode with 
the peasants, from the history of Nostradamus. In the year 
1525, when the latter was twenty-two years old, Provence 
was devastated by a pestilence. The young physician went 
boldly from house to house, through the villages, and saved 
the lives of many of the sick, himself escaping all infection. 


42. There was a Lion red, a wooer daring. 


The jargon of the medieval alchemists, from Raymond 
Lully to Paracelsus, is used in this description. The system 
taught that all substances, especially metals, had either mas- 
culine or feminine qualities, as well as inherent affinities and 
antipathies. Campanella’s doctrine, that all the elements of 








NOTES. 245 


watter were endowed with sense and feeling, was very gen- 
erally adopted by his successors in the art. Goethe drew 
nis description of the preparation of the panacea partly from 
Paracelsus, and partly from Welling’s Opus Mago-Cabbalis- 
ticum. 

The “Lion red ” is cinnabar, called a “ wooer daring ”’ on 
account of the action of quicksilver in rushing to an intimate 
union (an amalgam) with all other metals. The Lily is a 
preparation of antimony, which bore the name of Litium Pura- 
celst. Red, moreover, is the masculine, and white the femi- 
nine color. The alembic containing these substances was 
first placed in a “tepid bath’’—a vessel of warm water — 
and gradually heated ; then “ tormented by flame unsparing ” 
(“open flame,” in the original), the two were driven from 
one “bridal chamber ” to another, — that is, their wedded 
fumes were forced, by the heat, from the alembic into a glass 
retort. If then, the “ young Queen,” the sublimated com- 
pound of the two substances, appeared with a brilliant color 
—ruby or royal purple being most highly esteemed — in the 
retort, “this was the medicine.” The product reminds us 
of calomel, which is usually formed by the sublimated union 
of mercury and chlorine. 


43. Lf there be airy spirits near. 


In his conversations, Goethe more than once speaks of 
his youthful belief in spirits, even relating circumstances 
when he fancied their presence was manifested to him ; and 
Riemer considers that this passage is simply an expression 
of such belief. Diintzer, on the other hand, insisted that 
Faust refers to the sylphs, or spirits of the air, as they were 
tfecognized in the theories of the alchemists. I think it much 
more probable that the following passage, from the Faust- 
legend in its oldest form (Frankfurt, 1587), lingered in 
Goethe’s memory. Faust says to Mephistopheles: ‘* My 
servant, declare what spirit thou art!” The spirit answered 
and said: “ / ama spirit, and a flving spirtt, potently ruling 
under the heavens!” In the four lines of the text, followed 
by the wish for a magic mantle (such as Mephistopheles 


246 FAUST. 


afterwards furnishes), Faust unconsciously invokes the spirit 
which is already lying in wait for him, and which, thus 
invited, appears immediately in the form of a black dog. 
Wagner, however, who comprehends nothing but the dry 
lore with which he is crammed, sees in Faust’s words only a 
reference to the weather-spirits, and thereupon pompously 
airs his own knowledge of the latter. 

The expression, in the preceding couplet, that one part of 
Faust’s dual spirit sweeps upwards “into the high ancestral 
spaces,” suggests, equally, a passage in the Augsburg pup- 
pet-play. He is there made to exclaim: “ Invisible Spirits, 
receive me! I soar to your dominion. Yes, I will lift my- 
self out of this wretched atmosphere, which is only for com- 
mon men!” 


44. Swift from the North the spirit-fangs so sharp. 

The belief in evil spirits inhabiting the nether regions of the 
atmosphere is very ancient. Paul calls Satan “the prince 
of the power of the air” (Zphestans ii. 2), and thus gives 
Christian currency to a much older superstition. In the 
poem Zodtacus Vite, of Marcellus Palingenius (written about 
the year 1527), the different atmospheric demons are minute- 
ly described. Their names are Typhurgus (Mist-bringer), 
Aplestus (the Insatiable), Philokreus (Lover of Flesh), and 
Miastor (the Befouler). Wagner’s classification indicates 
the effects of the four winds upon the weather and the hu- 
man frame. In Germany, the east wind is dry and keen, 
and the west wind brings rain. 

Hayward, in his Notes, quotes the following additional 
authorities : — 

“The spirits of the aire will mix themselves with thun- 
der and lightning, and so infest the clyme where they 
Yaise any tempest, that soudainely great mortality shall 
ensue to the inhabitants.” — Pierce Pennilesse his Supplica- 
tion, 1592. 

“The air is not so full of flies in summer, as it is at al 
4imes of invisible devils: this Paracelsus stiffly maintains.” 
— Burton, Anat, Part L 





NOTES. 247 


45. Seest thou ike black dog coursing there, through corn and 
stubble ;’ 


The appearance of Mephistopheles in the form of a dog is 
a part of the uld legend. Manlius, in the report of his con- 
versation with Melancthon, quotes the latter as having said : 
“He (Faust) had a dog with him, which was the Devil.” 
The theologian, Johann Gast, in his Sermones Conviviales, 
describes a dinner given by Faust at Basle, at which he was 
present, and remarks: “ He had also a dog and a horse 
with him, both of which I believe were devils, for they were 
able to do everything. Some persons told me that the dog 
frequently took the shape of a servant and brought him food.” 
In some of the early forms of the legend the name of the 
dog is given as Prestigiar: he is described in Widmann as 
large, shaggy, and black, but in other versions he is of a 
dark red color. The Wagner-legends all agree in giving the 
latter, as attendant, an evil spirit in the form of a monkey, 
whom he called 4uerhahn (moor-cock). 

Burns, in Zam O'Shanter, says : — 


** A winnock-bunker in the east, 
There sat auld Nick, in shape o’ beast, 
A towsie tyke, black, grim, and large." 


46. ’Ts written: “ In the Beginning was the Word.” 


“T need hardly point out to the reader how artfully the 
poet has managed by making Faust, in his perplexed state 
of mind, hit upon the most difficult passage in the whole 
Bible. The dissatisfaction which would thence arise would 
bring his mind into a fit state for listening to the suggestions 
of the tempter; and thus would this precipitate spirit of 
discontent wrest the words of truth to his own destruction. 
As to the interpretations he has given us of the AOTO, 
they are as consistent and intelligible as the speculations of 
human reason, upon one of the most obscure subjects to 
which it can be directed, can be supposed to be.”” — Blackie, 
Notes to his Translation of Faust (London, 1834). 

This passage is not, as Blackie supposes, a fortunate in- 





248 FAUST. 


spiration of Goethe. It is directly suggested by the legend. 
In Widmann’s “ Veritable History of Dr. Faust” (Ham- 
burg, 1599) I find, in the fifteenth chapter. that Mephistoph- 
eles thus answers Faust’s proposition to discuss with him 
certain questions of theology: ‘‘In so far as it concerns the 
Bible, which thou again art of a mind to read, there shall be 
no more permitted to thee than, namely : the first, second, 
and fifth books of Moses; all the others, except Job, shalt 
thou let be ; and likewise in the New Testament thou mayst 
read the three Disciples that write of the deeds of Christ, 
that is to say, the tax-gatherer, the painter and the doctor 
(meaning Mattheum, Marcum and Lucam) ; ésut Fokn shalt 
thou avoid, and I forbid also the chatterer Paul, and such 
others as wrote Epistles.” 

This prohibition of the Fourth Gospel led Goethe, at 
once, to the opening verse, the attempt to translate which 
becomes not only a source of new perplexity to Faust, but 
also serves to hasten the poodle’s transformation. The frag- 
ments of Faust’s soliloquy, showing that his soul is turned 
towards “the love of God,” disturb the evil spirit incorpo- 
rated with the beast ; but the words of John, to which the 
spirit has a special antipathy, compel him to betray his 
presence. 

The growth and terrible appearance of the poodle suggest 
a passage in Neumann’s ‘Curious Observations concerning 
the so-called Dr. Faust ” (1702). He says, on the authority 
of Wier, the pupil of Cornelius Agrippa: ‘* A schoolmaster 
of Gosslar had learned from Faust, the magician, the formula 
by which certain verses may be used to imprison the Devil 
in a glass. In order that he might not risk being inter- 
rupted, he went one day into a forest ; and while he was in 
the midst of his invocations, the Devil came unto him ina 
horrible form, with fiery eyes, a nose curved like a cows 
horn, with wild and fearful boar’s-tusks, a rough cat’s back, 
and every way frightful.” 

One of the illustrations in Widmann’s book represents 
Mephistopheles appearing to Faust in front of ¢he stove in 
the latter’s study, and conversing with him over the top of a 





NOTES. 249 


fire-screen. The text says that Faust first became aware of 
the spirit as a shadow moving around the stove. 


47. The Kcy of Solomon és good. 


Solomon’s fame as a magician is mentioned by Josephus, 
and also by Origen, who was acquainted with a work on the 
manner of citing spirits to appear, ascribed to the Hebrew 
king. There seems to be no doubt that Solomon was a 
chief authority with the Jewish exorcists, from whom his 
name and some of his supposed formule of invocation were 
transmitted, until we find them in the Cabbala of the Middle 
Ages. The Clavicula Salomonis is mentioned by Welling, 
Paracelsus, and other writers, and some copies have been 
preserved. It is claimed that the genuine original contained 
only instructions by which good spirits might be invoked to 
assist in good works, but the variations give also the method 
of summoning evil spirits. In Fuust's Dretfacher Hollen- 
ewang (copied in Scheible’s AVoster), the Clavicula Salo- 
monis is given as it was communicated to Pope Sylvester by 
Constantine, and translated in the Vatican, under Pope Julius 
II. It is called ‘‘ The Necromantic Key of Solomon, or the 
Key to the Magic Wisdom of Solomon, and to compel the 
Spirits to every Manner of Service,” and commences: “At 
first, pray (or sing) the following canticum hebraicum — Aba, 
sarka, maccaf, sofar, holech, (segolta), pazergadol,”’ etc. Then 
follow a number of similar invocations, together with the 
“Seal of the highest wisdom of Solomon,” —a very com- 
plicated figure of hexagonal form, — which must be held in 
the hand. Faust. as the reader will remark, employs an 
entirely different method of exorcism. 


48. Zhe Words of the Four be addressed. 


The universal belief in elementary spirits, during the 
Middle Ages, was a natural inheritance from the ancient 
faith. So much of their former half-divinity clung to them 
that they were assigned an intermediate place between men 
and genuine spirits. They were supposed to have positive 
and unchangeable forms, of a finer, more ethereal flesh and 

11 * 


250 FAUST. 


blood. and to be soulless, although the children born of their 
intercourse with human beings received human souls. They 
were classified, according to the element in which they lived, 
as Salamanders (in Fire), Undines (in Water,) Sylphs (in 
Air), and Gnomes (in Earth). Of these, the two latter 
classes were supposed to be most familiar and friendly. 

Pope (Rape of the Lock), in his Dedicatory Letter to Mrs, 
Arabella Fermor, says, referring to the Rosicrucians : ‘‘ The 
best account I know of them is in a French book called Le 
Comte de Gabalis, which, both in its title and size, is so like 
a novel, that many of the fair sex have read it for one by 
mistake. According to these gentlemen, the four elements 
are inhabited by spirits, which they call sylphs, gnomes, 
nymphs, and salamanders. The gnomes, or demons of the 
earth, delight in mischief ; but the sylphs, whose habita- 
tion is in the air, are the best-conditioned creatures imagi- 
nable.” 

In the first canto of the Rafe of the Lock, the passage oc- 


curs : — 
“ For when the fair in all their pnde expire, 

To their first elements their souls retire. 
The sprites of fiery termagants in flame 
Mount up, and take a salamander’s name. 
Soft, yielding minds to water glide away, 
And sip, with nymphs, their elemental tea. 
The graver prude sinks downward to a gnome 
In search of mischief still on earth to roam. 
The light coquettes in sylphs aloft repair, 
And sport and flutter in the fields of air.” 


In the Comte de Gabalis, to which Pope refers, the four 
classes of the elementary spirits are very minutely described. 
It is there stated that they became invisible to the human 
race through the sin of Adam, that they are more perfect 
than men, “ proud in appearance, but docile in reality, great 
lovers of science, officious towards sages, intolerant towards 
fools.” 

Faust, it will be noticed, uses ‘the Words of the Four,” 
but without effect. He then repeats the adjuration, in an 
other and stronger form. Here, however, the word Kobold 





NOTES. 2st 


(Gnome) is omitted, and Jcubus, the dwarfish, tricksy, 
household spirit, is substituted. In German fairy-lore, there 
is a relationship between the two, but they are not identical. 
There seems to be no reason for the change ; and, as Goethe 
attached no great importance to the passage, the rhyme, 
alone, may have suggested it. - 


49. Now, to undisguise thee, 
Hear me exorcise thee! 


The original is: ‘Thou shalt hear me more strongly ex- 
orcise!’? Suspecting that an infernal spirit dwells in the 
beast, Faust makes “the sign” of the cross, and the effect 
is immediately manifest. Diintzer says, ‘‘ He presents to 
him the name of Jesus,” — which is certainly a misconcep- 
tion. Blackie quotes a passage from Cornelius Agrippa, 
declaring that evil spirits are affrighted by the sign of the 
cross. 

Goethe, also, may have remembered the verse in the Epis- 
tle of James (ii. 19): ‘‘ Thou believest tuat there is one God ; 
thou doest well: the devils also believe, and tremble.” 


50. Zhe One, unoriginate. . 


Here Christ is described, but not named. The four lines 
are, literally : 
The Unoriginated, 
Unuttered, 
Diffused through all the Heavens, 
Guiltily transpierced. 


The strong spell is now working upon the spirit; and the 
further threat of “the threefold, dazzling glow ” — the em- 
blem of the Divine Trinity —or its ancient mystic symbol, 
the rayed triangle, suffices to complete the exorcism. 

Faust, in the old Hollenzwang, says: ‘ Again I command 
thee, Spirit, by the words of might: Yesus Christ is become 
flesh — therewith I compel thee, and hind thee, and exorcise 
thee here, through Lucifer and Beelzebub and all the leaders 
of the hellish host, whatever may be your names.” 





ac? FAUST. 


51. MEPHISTOPHELES. 


The original form of this name was A/ephostophiles. There 
has been much discussion in regard to its meaning; but 
Diintzer’s conjecture is probably correct, — that it was im- 
perfectly formed by some one who knew little Greek, and 
was intended to signify not loving the light. The expressions 
which Mephistopheles uses, in explaining his nature to Faust, 
would seem to indicate that this was also Goethe’s under- 
standing of the name. 

Although, in most of the popular Faust-stories, Mephis- 
topheles is often referred to as ‘“‘ the Devil,” it was well un- 
derstood that he was only a devil. In ‘ Faust’s Miraculous 
Art and Book of Marvels, or the Black Raven” (1469), the 
powers and potentates of the Infernal Kingdom are thus 
given: Aing, Lucifer; Viceroy, Belial ; Gubernatores, Satan, 
Beelzebub, Astaroth, Pluto; CAsef Princes, Aziel, Mephis- 
tophilis, Marbuel, Ariel, Aniguel, Anisel, and Barfael. 

Goethe took only the name and a few circumstances con- 
nected with the first appearance of Mephistopheles from the 
legend : the character, from first to last, is his own creation. 
Although he sometimes slyly used it (though less frequently 
than Faust) as a mask through which to speak with his own 
voice, he evidently drew the germ of some characteristics 
from his early associate, Merck. His own strong instinct 
led him to avoid the danger of personifying abstract ideas, 
by seeking in life for all material which could give a dramatic 
reality to his characters ; and he did not scruple to take that 
which was nearest and most intimate. 

“* Merck and 1,”’ said Goethe to Eckermann, in 1831, “‘al- 
ways went together, like Faust and Mephistopheles. .... 
All his pranks and tricks sprang from the basis of a higher 
culture ; but, as he was not a productive nature, —on the 
contrary, he possessed a strongly marked negative tendency, 
— he was far more ready to blame than praise, and involun- 
tarily sought out everything which might enable him to in- 
dulge his habit.” 

In Wahrheit und Dichtung (Book XII.) Goethe gives a 


NOTES. 253 


tareful and doubtless a correct picture of Merck’s character 
and temperament. “This singular man,” he says, “ who 
exercised the greatest influence upon my life, was a native 
of Darmstadt. When I first knew him, he was Military 
Paymaster there. Born with spirit and intelligence, he had 
acquired much admirable knowledge, especially of modern 
literature, and had busied himself in all directions and with 
all the phenomena of Man and History. He had the faculty 
of sharp and pointed judgment, and was esteemed both as an 
honest, energetic man of business, and a rapid arithmetician. 
Thoroughly self-possessed, he appeared everywhere as a most 
agreeable companion for those to whom he had not made 
himself dreaded by his keen, satirical speecn. He was long 
and lean of form; his prominent, pointed nose was a con- 
spicuous feature; keen blue, perhaps gray eyes, observantly 
moving to and fro, gave something of the tiger to his 
look. .... 

“In his character there was a remarkable contradiction. 
Naturally an upright, noble, worthy man, he was imbittered 
against the world, and allowed such full sway to this moody 
peculiarity that he felt an invincible inclination to show him- 
self wilfully as a waggish knave, — nay, even a rogue. Calm, 
reasonable, good, one moment, the next he would take a 
whim, like a snail thrusting out its horns, to do something 
which offended, aggrieved, or even positively injured another. 
Yet, as one is attracted to associate with something danger- 
ous, when one imagines himself to be secure against its at- 
tack, my own inclination was all the greater to live in his 
company and enjoy his good qualities, since [ felt the most 
confident presentiment that he would not turn his evil side 


* He was born in 1741, and was therefore eight years older than Goethe. 
He travelled, as a young man, with a Baron von Bibra, married a French 
woman in Geneva, and then settled in his native town. His literary 
works were chiefly translations from the English (among them, Addison's 
Cato), and critical and zsthetic papers in the periodicals of the day; but 
his personal influence upon authors. especially Herder, Goethe, and La- 
Vater, was very great. His domestic life was not happy, his circumstances 
became embarrassed, and in 1791 he committed suicide. 


“354 FAUST. 


towards me. As, on the one hand, he disturbed society by 
this morally restless spirit, this continual necessity to deal 
with men spitefully and maliciously, so, on the other hand, 
a different unrest, which he also carefully nourished within 
himself, undermined his own contentment.”’ 

In Widmann’s Faust-book, Mephistopheles appears in the 
character of a monk. In the Geisselbrecht puppet-play 
Faust commands him to put off his first terrible form, and 
says : ‘‘ Thou mayst come as jurist, as doctor, or as hunter, 
but it were better that thou appearest as a student.” In the 
Ulm version, when Mephistopheles asks: ‘In what form 
shall I appear?” Faust answers: ‘“ Like as a man.” In 
the Strasburg play, Faust asks, after having chosen Mephis- 
topheles : “ But why appearest thou to me under this mask ? 
I wished for a devil, and not one of my own race.” Mephis- 
topheles answers : “ Faust, perhaps we are then wholly dev- 
ils, when we resemble you ; at least, no other mask suits us 
better”” He thereafter next makes his appearance as a pos- 
tilion. 

Goethe’s choice of the character of a travelling scholar — 
or, I should perhaps say, a vagabond scholar — was prob- 
ably dictated by the succeeding scene (IV.), which was first 
written. Another projected scene, given in the Puralipo- 
mena (and added in a later note), furnishes additional rea- 
sons. The travelling scholars of the Middle Ages were a 
pretentious, adventurous class — the pedantic Bohemians of 
those days — who wandered over Europe, maintaining theses, 
entering into private or public discussions with equal flip- 
pancy, and sponging upon the universities and monasteries. 
The appearance of Mephistopheles in such a form is an iron- 
ical reflection upon Faust’s devotion to learning ; yet the 
latter is unconscious of this, and his first surprise gives way 
to a contemptuous laugh. 


52. ln names like Beelzebub, Destroyer, Father of Lies. 

In the original, the first of these names is given as Fliegen- 
gott, Fly-god. For the sake of metre, I have substituted 
our familiar Hebrew equivalent, Beelzebub — or, more cor 





NOTES. 256 


rectly, Baalsebub. “Destroyer” and Liar, or “Father of 
Lies,” are also familiar to us as Aéaddon and Satan. Faust 
must be supposed to accept the orders of the infernal hie, 
rarchy, as given in the cabalistic writings, whence his en- 
deavor to identify the particular fiend whom he has invoked. 


53. Lam the Spirit that Denies. 


In declaring himself, first, to be part of that power “‘ which 
always wills the Bad, and always works the Good,” Meph- 
istopheles is unexpectedly frank. His expression coincides 
exactly with the declaration of The Lord (see page 15), as to 
the service he is obliged to perform. 

In the passage which follows, he is equally honest, and the 
above line clearly describes the part which he plays, from 
beginning to end. He is the Spirit of Negation, and his 
being exists through opposition to the positive Truth, and 
Order, and Beauty, which proceed from the never-ending 
creative energy of the Deity. The masks which we find him 
assuming in the Second Part of Faust are all explained by 
this necessity of Negation. His irreverence and irony are 
not only a part of his nature, but they are further increased 
by the impotence of his efforts — which he freely admits in 
the following passages — to disturb the Divine system. 

Mephistopheles draws his theory of the primeval darkness 
from the Theogony of Hesiod. His reference to “‘ bodies ” 
shows that he understands the physical and spiritual identity 
of light and life. Since we have seen that, in Widmann’s 
Faust-book, he prohibits to Faust the reading of the Gospel 
of John, we may surmise a connection between his hostility 
to light and these verses from the first chapter of that Gos- 
pel : — 

“In him was life; and the life was the light of men. 

“And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness 
comprehended it not.” 


54. From Water, Earth, and Air unfolding, 
A thousand germs break forth and grow. 


“Let men continue to worship Him who gives the ox his 


256 FAUST. 


pasture, and to man food and drink, according to his need. 
But I worship Him, who has filled the world with such a 
productive energy, that, if only the millionth part became 
embodied in living existences, the globe would so swarm 
with them that War, Pestilence, Flood and Fire would be 
powerless to diminish them. That is my God!” — Goethe 
to Eckermann, 1831. 


55- Zhe wizard ’'s-foot that on your threshold made 3. 


In the original, Drudenfuss. Drud, from one root with 
Druid, was the old German word for “ wizard.” The wiz- 
ard’s-foot, or pentagram, was supposed to possess an espe- 
cial potency against evil spirits. It is simply a five-rayed 
star, thus: — 


Its efficacy undoubtedly sprang from the circumstance that 
it resolves itself into three triangles, and is thus a triple sym- 
bol of the Trinity. Paracelsus ascribes a similar, though a 
lesser, degree of virtue to the hexagram. Another pecul- 
iarity of the pentagram is, that it may be drawn complete 
from one point, without lifting the pencil, and therefore be- 
longs to those involuntary hieroglyphics which we some- 
times make, in moments of abstraction. Thus Tennyson, in 
The Brook : — 


** But Katie snatched her eyes at once from mine, 
And sketching with her slender pointed foot 
Some figure like a wizard’s pentagram 
On garden gravel, let my query pass.” 


56. SONG OF THE SPIRITS. 
This remarkable chant is known in Germany (Goethe 
himself being, I believe, the first to so designate it) as the 
Einschliferungslied, or Lullaby. It is one of the few things 





NOTES. 267 


in the work which have proved to be a little too much for 
the commentators, and they have generally let it alone. By 
Gropping all philosophical theories, however, and applying 
to it only the conditions of Poetic Art, we shall find it easily 
comprehensible. Faust is hardly aware (although Mephis- 
topheles zs) that a part of his almost despairing impatience 
springs from the lack of all enjoyment of physical life ; and 
the first business of these attendant spirits is to unfold be- 
fore his enchanted eyes a series of dim, dissolving views — 
sweet, formless, fantastic, and thus all the more dangerously 
alluring — of sensuous delight. The pictures are blurred, as 
in a semi-dream : they present nothing positive, upon which 
Faust’s mind could fix, or by which it might be startled : but 
they leave an impression behind, which gradually works it- 
self into form. The echo of the wild, weird, interlinked mel- 
ody remains in his soul, and he is not supposed to be con- 
scious of its operation, even when, in the following scene, he 
exclaims to Mephistopheles : — 


* Let us the sensual deeps explore, 
To quench the fervors of glowing passion !”’ 


The rhythmical translation of this song — which, without 
the original rhythm and rhyme, would lose nearly all its 
value — is a head and heart breaking task. I can only say 
that, after returning to it again and again, during a period 
of six years, I can offer nothing better. 


57. come, a squire of high degree. 

The word Yunker, which Mephistopheles uses, corre- 
sponds exactly with “squire,” as a term of chivalry. In the 
text of the puppet-play, when he makes his appearance the 
second time, he is described as wohlerkleidet — respectably 
dressed His costume on the puppet-stage was a red tunic, 
under a long mantle of black silk, and a cock’s-feather in his 
hat. Goethe purposely retains this costume, because it is 
sufficiently appropriate to his conception of the character, 
which he expressly declares is too negative to he daimontc. 
One of the very few hints of his intention which he allowed 

Q 


258 FAUST. 


to escape him occurs in his conversation with an English 
gentleman in 1825, as reported by Eckermann. “Really,” 
said he, ‘I should not have advised you to read Faust. It’s 
fantastic stuff, and transcends all ordinary sentiment. But, 
since you have begun of your own accord, without asking 
.ne, you may get through it the best way you can. Faust is 
so singular an individual that only a few persons can repro- 
duce his spiritual conditions in their own minds. Then the 
character of Mephistopheles, through his irony, and as the 
living result of a vast observation of the world, is also some- 
thing very difficult to comprehend.” 

Compare, also, the remarks of Mephistopheles to the 
witch, in Scene VI. : — 


** Culture, which smooth the whole world licks, 
Also unto the Devil sticks.” 


58. This life of earth, whatever my attire, 
Would pain me in its wonted fashion. 

The first fragment of the Paralipomena possibly belongs 
here, although there is also a place for it towards the close 
of the scene. In the following lines, omitted alike in the 
editions of 1790 and 1808, Mephistopheles continues to ad- 
vise a change of costume : — 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


When with externals thou art well endowed, 
All will around thee flock, and flatter ; 

A chap who’s not a little vain or proud, 
Had better hang, and end the matter. 


T have not been able to find any evidence concerning the 
date of these rejected passages of Faust. Most of the Ger- 
man critics agree that the first part of the scene, withheld in 
the first edition, was afterwards materially altered by Goethe ; 
some of them even venture to point out the portions remain- 
ing from 1775, and those added in 1798, or later. Since, 
however, the slight difference of style perceptible in the text 
must disappear in the translation, it is not necessary to re- 
peat their views. 





NOTES. 259 


59. There, also, comes no rest to me. 


“When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall 
ease my complaint ; 

“Then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me 
through visions : 

‘So that my soul chooseth strangling, and death rather 
than my life.”” — od vii. 13, 14, 15- 


60. CHORUS OF SPIRITS. 


Faust’s curse, which includes even the sentiment of child- 
ish faith that overcame him on the Easter morning, places 
him, unconsciously, in the power of Mephistopheles. The 
Chorus of Spirits indicates, in a few powerful lines, his rup- 
ture with the order of life. The first words of Mephistoph- 
eles which follow, would lead the reader to suppose that 
the spirits were infernal, and thus a singular discrepancy be- 
tween their character and their expressions is implied. Diint- 
zer says: “ Their cry of woe and their lament over the beauty 
of the world, which Faust has shattered, together with his 
designation as demigod, can only be accepted as a scoffing 
irony of the spirits, which, equally with Mephistopheles, well 
know that they can give him no real compensation for the 
fortune which he has criminally rejected.” Deycks’s com- 
ment is less logical: ‘‘ He (Faust) can only recover through 
his own act ; in his resolute breast, by clear intelligence, he 
can create a soil wherefrom new songs will shoot. The 
spirits allure to a life of deeds and poetry, to the broad, 
great world. And Mephistopheles offers himself as a guide.” 

In Leutbecher’s work, however, I find a hint of what I 
believe to be the true intention of this Chorus. He says: 
“The pure spirits who direct the harmonies of existence la- 
ment over his (Faust’s) step, and encourage him to com- 
mence another and fairer career. But Mephistopheles calls 
these voices precociously shrewd, and proposes the condi- 
tions of his compact, promising delights which, in advance, 
appear worthless to Faust.” The lament is certainly not 
tronical ; on the contrary, the course of the drama, as it is 


260 FAUST. 


afterwards developed, is here shadowed forth by the spirits, 
and Mephistopheles no more comprehends them than Faust. 
He is deceived, as in the Fifth Act of the Second Part. 

In the Augsburg puppet-play, Faust is attended by a good 
Genius, who, when he has signed the compact with Mephis- 
topheles, exclaims : ‘‘ Woe to thy miserable soul !” and dis- 
appears. 

61. A High and Low our souls await. 


‘Oh why must we, in order to speak of such things, use 
images which only represent external conditions! Where is 
there anything high or low, obscure or enlightened, in His 
sight? We, only, have an Above and Below, a Day and a 
Night. And just therein did He (Christ) resemble us, be- 
cause we should otherwise have no share in Him.” — W- 
helm Meister (Confessions of a Fair Spirit). 

Goethe also places one of these phrases — 


‘* And you he dowers with Day and Night!’ — 
in the mouth of Mephistopheles, after the compact. 


62. Show me the fruits that, ere they're gathered, rot. 


This passage has given rise to a great deal of discussion. 
The offer of Mephistopheles, — 


** What no man ever saw, I'll give to thee, —"’ 


which provokes Faust’s exclamation, is suggested by the 
puppet-play. In the Strassburg version, Mephistopheles says : 
‘I will fill for thee the goblet of delight, full and foaming, 
as it never yet has been filled to any mortal.” 

Faust’s reply seems to have puzzled many of the commen- 
tators, some of whom—as Deycks, Hartung, Rosencranz 
and Leutbecher — pass it over with slight notice, while 
others endeavor to analyze the meaning. The following 
quotations embrace the prit.cipal varieties of interpreta- 
tion: — 

1. “TI know thy rotten gifts, says Faust. Which of thy 
fine goods of the earth wilt thou offer me? How could the 
like of thee ever be capable of measuring the unquiet of 





NOTES. 261 


man’s breast? Hast thou food to serve up which never sat- 
isfies ? Or canst thou only show trees which daily bloom 
anew and bud again? I loathe this foliage of yesterday, this 
tale which, ever the same, is told in the morning, and in the 
evening dies away again — ‘show me the fruit that rots be- 
fore it is gathered, and trees that daily renew their green!’ ” 
— Falk. 

2. “The promise of Mephistopheles appears to Faus. 
but mockery. What can a devil give a man to satisfy him, 
when he is not capable of giving it to himself? The gifts of 
a devil, he says, are but delusions, and melt away in the 
same manner as his quicksilver-like gold ; thus he can only 
bestow fruits which would not rot before the plucking, but 
no ever-budding tree sprouts forth beneath his skill and fos- 
tering.” — Schubarth. 

3. “ The meaning plainly is: —I know well thou, poor 
devil, hast riches and other fleeting pleasures, that excite 
our longing only that they may elude our grasp, that dazzle 
only to deceive, and whose substantial worth is always in the 
inverse ratio of their outward promise. Wouldst thou al- 
lure me, thou must hold out fruits that rot, not a/ffer, but 
before they are broken, and thus cannot, like the fruits of 
mere sensuality, deceive us by an external glow when tempt- 
ing us on the tree, but rotting whenever the hand of enjoy- 
ment is stretched forth to pluck them. Show me no frail 
blossom of a fleeting spring, but ‘trees which day by day 
their green repair.’ ” — Blackie. 

4. “ The most probable supposition is, that Faust’s mean- 
ing is pretty near the same as in the subsequent speech, in 
which he expresses a wish to enjoy all that is parce:’ed out 
among mankind, pain and pleasure, success and disappoint- 
ment, indifferently. Taking this wish into consideration, we 
may well suppose him saying: ‘ You can give nothing of any 
rea] value in the eyes of a man like me ; but if you have the 
common perishable enjoyments of humanity to bestow, let 
me have them.’” — Hayward. 

5. “ Faust admits that the devil has all the different kinds 
of Sodom-apples which he has enumerated, gold that melts 


262 FAUST. 


away in the hand, glory that vanishes like a meteor, and 
pleasure that perishes in the possession. But all these tor- 
ments are too insipid for Faust’s morbid and mad hankering 
after the luxury of spiritual pain. Show me, he says, the 
fruit that rots defore one can pluck it, and (a. still stronger 
expression of his diseased craving for agony) trees that fade 
so quickly as to be every day just putting forth new green, 
only to tantalize one with perpetual promise and perpetual 
disappointment.” — Brooks. 

A careful study of the structure of the passage does not 
permit me to accept any of these interpretations. Omitting 
the first three lines, the remainder is a single sentence, vio- 
lently interrupted by a dash (—) at the end of the eighth line. 
The two lines which follow are contemptuous and scornful 
metaphors, summing up the catalogue of the deceitful gifts 
which Faust admits Mephistopheles can offer. They simply 
repeat, in another form, what he has declared in the pre- 
ceding lines. He commences the enumeration of the pleas- 
ures whose worthlessness he knows, — gold, love, honor, — 
then, breaking off impatiently, exclaims, referring to those 
pleasures : — 


“* Show me the fruits that, ere they ‘re gathered, rot, 
And trees that daily with new leafage clothe them !”” 


These images express the cheating, disappointing, inade- 
quate character of al] the usual desires of men, to “(a human 
soul, in its supreme endeavor.”” The tone of the passage is 
keenly scornful and incredulous. Fatst seriously desires 
nothing from Mephistopheles, not even the morbid luxury of 
self-torment ; and in the bet which he offers, immediately af- 
terwards, his reference to ‘‘an idler’s bed” seems to have 
been suggested by the words of Mephistophles, rather than 
by the craving of his own nature for repose. 


63. When thus I hail the Moment flying: 

“Ah, still delay — thou art so fair !” 
Here Faust becomes earnest and definite. The one mo- 
ment of supreme contentment is for him a symbol of endless 





NOTES. 263 


capacity for happiness. The wager with Mephistopheles 
rests upon this couplet, which the reader must bear in his 
memory until he meets with it again, at the close of the 
Second Part. 

There is no condition of this nature in the Faust-legends. 
The compact there is, that Faust shall have whatever he de- 
sires for the term of twenty-four years, when he passes, body 
and soul, into the power of Mephistopheles. The only slight 
resemblance to this passage, in any of the various versions, 
may be found in the Strassburg play, where Mephistopheles 
says: “ Faust, have I not said to thee, thou canst thyself 
break the hour-glass of thy time? Thou hast done it in this 
moment.” 


64. Zhen at the Doctors -banquet I, to-day. 


Mephistopheles refers to the inauguration feast, given on 
taking a degree. 


65. And all of life for all mankind created. 


‘We are justly told,’”’ Goethe continued, ‘that the culti- 
vation in common of human capacities is desirable, and also 
the most important of aims. But man was not born for that; 
properly each one must develop himself as a particular indi- 
vidual, but also endeavor to attain an apprehension of what 
all are, collectively.” — Zckermann, 1825. 

This scene commences with the above line, in the edition 
of 1790, and continues to the end in its present form, with- 
out the change of a word. 


66. And I shall have thee fast and sure |— 


Goethe frequently makes use of a dask to denote both a 
cbange in the address and a movement of the speaker. The 
passage discussed in Note 62 is already an instance of this 
peculiarity. Here, Mephistopheles looks after Faust’s re- 
treating figure, and addresses him as if he were still present. 
At the end of the above line, he turns away and continues 
his soliloquy, speaking of Faust in the third person. 


264 FAUST. 


67. Encheiresin nature, this Chemistry names. 


With the introduction of the Student (whom we shall meet 
again, in the Second Part, as Baccalaureus), Mephistopheles 
not only assumes the mantle of Faust, but Goethe also as- 
sumes the mask of Mephistopheles. The episode, which is 
wholly his own invention, was written during his intercourse 
with Merck, and while his experience of academic teaching 
was still fresh and far from edifying. He gives the following 
account (in Wahrheit und Dichtung) of his study of logic, at 
the University of Leipzig : “‘ I was at first diligent and faithful 
in attending the lectures, but I remained as much in the dark 
about philosophy as before. In logic, I found it altogether 
unaccountable why those operations of the mind, which [ 
had from my earliest years performed with the greatest ease, 
should first be anatomized, individualized, and torn from their 
natural union, before one could know how to use them Of 
the subject-matter of God, the world and the soul, I thought 
I knew just as much as my master, and he seemed to me, on - 
not a few points to be sadly nonplussed.” 

The “Spanish boots,” of which Mephistopheles speaks, 
were instruments of torture used in the Middle Ages. They 
were cases of wood, into which wedges were driven until the 
calves of the victim’s legs were compressed into the smallest 
possible space. 

From logic, Mephistopheles passes to the method of scien- 
tific investigation, wherein Goethe seems to have remembered 
the couplet of Pope : — 


** Like following life in creatures we dissect, 
We lose it in the moment we detect.” 


In a conversation with Falk (translated by Mrs. Austin) he 
expresses corresponding views: ‘Our scientific men are 
rather too fond of details. They count out to us the whole 
consistency of earth in separate lots, and are so happy as 
to have a separate name for every lot. That is argillaceous 
earth; that is quartz; that is this, and this is that. But 
what am I the better if I am ever so perfect in all these 








NOTES. 265 


names? When I hear them, I always think of the old Jines 
in Faust, — 


* Encheiresin natura nenut’s die Chemie, 
Bohrt sich selber Esel, und weiss nicht wie !’ * 


““What am I the better for these lots? what for their 
names? I want to know what it is that impels every several 
portion of the universe to seek out some other portion, — 
either to rule or to obey it, — and qualifies some for the one 
part and some for the other, according to a law innate in 
them all, and operating like a voluntary choice. But this is 
precisely the point upon which the most perfect and universal 
silence prevails.”’ 

Jn a letter to Wackenroder, Professor of Chemistry at 
Jena, written in January, 1832, Goethe says: Notwithstand- 
ing we willingly allow to Nature her secret Lucheiresis, 
whereby she creates and sustains life, and, although no 
mystics, we must finally admit the existence of an inscruta- 
ble something, — yet mar cannot, if his aim be earnest, re- 
strain himself from the attempt to drive the Inscrutable into 
such close quarters that he is at least satisfied and willing 
to confess himself defeated.” 

The phrase enchetresin nature signifies, properly, ‘‘a treat- 
ment of Nature.” Here, however, Goethe seems rather to 
indicate the mysterious, elusive force by which Nature oper- 
ates. 


68. As did the Holy Ghost dictate to thee. 


The practice of taking notes of the discourses which they 
hear, is universal among the German students. Many of 
the Professors encourage it by adopting a very slow, meas- 
ured style of delivery. The advice of Mephistopheles is 
the keenest irony upon these formal methods of imparting 
knowledge. 


® This was the original form of the couplet, as written. The meaning is 
the same as in its present form, and the expression ‘* Bohet sich selber 
Esel’’ (which Diintzer says came from the trick of putting the hands te 
the sides of the head and wagging them, to represent ass’s ears), was 
probably rejected, because it is pure slang. 

VOL. I. 12 


266 FAUST. 


69. On words let your attention centre. 
In the Witches’ Kitchen (Scene VI.) Mephistopheles 
says :— 
“Man usually believes, if only words he hears, 
That also with them goes material for thinking.” 
Elsewhere, however, Goethe says: ‘‘ Unfortunately, words 
are usually mere expedients for man; he mostly thinks 
and knows a thing better than he expresses it.” In the 
‘above passage, Mephistopheles probably refers to “the 
letter that killeth,’’ and exalts it, in consonance with his 
character. 


90. The little world, and then the great, we'll see. 


The programme of both parts of Faust is given in this line. 
No reference to the cabalistic Microcosm and Macrocosm is 
intended: “the little world” is here Faust’s individual ex- 
perience of human desires and passions ; he .issues from his 
seclusion to share in the ordinary history of men. This 
plan is developed, so far as necessary, in the First Part. 
“Lhe great world ” is life on a broader stage of action: in- 
tellectual forces are substituted for sentiments and passions: 
the narrow interests of the individual are merged in those of 
the race ; and Government, War, activity on a grand scale 
and for universal, permanent ends, succeed, in order that 
Faust’s knowledge of the life of man shall be rounded into 
completeness. The Second Part of the work is devoted to 
this latter experience. 


71. Lfeel so small before others, and thence 
Should always find embarrassments. 


The following passage is the second of the Paralipomena, 
and was undoubtedly designed as an answer to the above 
lines. It seems to have been written at a later period, and 
we may conjecture that Goethe omitted the lines because 
they are not in accord with the manner of Mephistopheles 
throughout the scene : — 


NOTES. 267 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Learn then from me to meet Society ! 

I come, both cheerful and collected, 

And every heart is well-affected ; 

I laugh, and each one laughs with me. 

Rely, like me, upon your own pretences ; 

There 's something to be dared, you must reflect : 
For even women easily forgive offences, 


If one respectfully forgets respect. 

Not in divining-rods nor mandrake tragic, 
But in good-humor lies the best of magic: 
If I'm in unison with all, 

I do not see how trouble could befall. 
Then to the work, and show no hesitation ! 
I only dread the preparation. 


972 J gratulate thee on thy new career. 


The “‘ Disputation,”” which Goethe projected, for the fur- 
ther and clearer presentation of the characters of Faust, 
Wagner, and Mephistopheles, was probably intended to 
follow this scene. From the rough draught of his plan, 
retained in the Paralifomena, the reader may guess, not 
ouly the manner in which the rejected scene would have 
been developed, but also the considerations which compelled 
its rejection. I shall, therefore, give Goethe’s brief and not 
always (to any but himself) intelligible prose outline, in- 
serting the half-dozen rhythmical fragments in what appear 
tu be their appropriate places. 


DISPUTATION. 


First Semichorus, Second Semichorus, 7éti of the Students, ex- 
pressing the situation. The crowd, the surging to and fro, the pressine 
in and out. 

STUDENTS (teéthin). 
Just let us out ! our dinners we are seeking. 
Who speaks, forgets both meat and drink in speaking ; 
But he who hears, grows faint at last. 


STUDENTS (2utthout). 


Just let us in ! our stomachs we ‘ve been testing ; 
Ar commons we have sought our cheer. 


268 FAUST. 


Just let us in! we ’ll here do our digesting ; 
We had no wine, and spirit 's here ! ® 


WaGner, a8 opponent. He makes a compliment Separate voices, 
The Rector to the beadle. The beadles command order. 

The TRAVELLING SCHOLAR (Mephistopheles) enters. Abuses the 
assembly. Chorus of students, half, entire. Abuses the respondent. 
The latter declines. 

THE TRAVELLING SCHOLAR. 


Go out ! come in! Each keep his place in quiet ! 
Upon this threshold what a riot ! 

Make room, without! let those within retire, 
Then fill their seats as you desire ! 


Faust accepts the challenge. Condemns his swaggering. Demands 
that be shall particularize. 
MaEPHISTOPHRLES complies, but immediately begins a praise of vaga- 
bondage and the experience which it gives. 
Semichorus. 
STUDENTS. 
He ’s of the wandering race, the wight ; 
He swaggers, yet he ’s in the right. 


Faust. Unfavorable picture of the vagabond. 
SeMICHORUS. 
MupnuisToPpuHEtes. Forms of knowledge, lacking to the wisdom of the 
,chools. 
MEPHISTOPHELES, 


Who speaks of doubts? Let me but hear ! 
Who doubts, must never teach, 't is clear; 
Who teaches, must be positive ! 


Faust. Tv ceavrdy, in the finer sense. Challenges the opponent 
to propose questions from experience, all of which Faust will answer. 

MupnisTopuHries. Glaciers. Bolognese Fire. Fata Morgana. Beast. 
Man. 

Faust. Opposing question: where is the creative mirror? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. Compjiment. The answer another ume. 

Faust. Conclusion. Dismissal. 

Crorus, as Majority and Minority of the hearers. 

Wacner’s fear, that the spirits may utter what Man supposes is whi 
pered to himself. 


® These are parts of either Semichorus Goethe's reference to tuc 
commons is taken from the University of Leipzig, where, during his 
studies, a large number of the poorer students were gratuitously furnished 
with a common dinner, but without wine. 


NOTES. 269 


It is also possible that this Disputation may have been 
designed as a substitute for the conversation between Mephb 
istopheles and the Student, in which case it must haw 
been projected at Rome, in the spring of 1788. On the Ist 
of March, that year, Goethe writes: ‘It has been an abun- 
dant week, and in memory it seems like a month. First, I 
arranged the plan of Fasst,’”’ etc. Gdschen’s edition of his 
works, in 1790, was meant to be complete, up to that year, 
and the publication of Faust, as a ‘‘ Fragment,” in the sev- 
enth volume, may have been due to that circumstance alone. 


73- AUERBACH’S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG. 


The locality of this scene possesses a double interest, 
through its connection with the early Faust-legend and with 
the academic years of the young Goethe. If the stranger 
who visits Leipzig wil] seek the large, ancient house, No. 1, 
Grimmaische Strasse, near the Market- Place, the sign ‘‘ AUER- 
BACHS KELLER,” nearly on a level with the sidewalk, will 
guide him down into the two vaulted chambers which have 
echoed to the wit and song and revelry of four centuries of 
jolly companions. He may still take Faust’s and Goethe’s 
place, at the head of the table in the farther room, order his 
wine from the seventieth or eightieth successor of the origi- 
nal landlord, and, while awaiting the preparation of some 
old-fashioned dish, study the two curious paintings, which 
have filled semicircular spaces under the arches perhaps 
since the year 1525. 

Legends of Faust are as plentiful in Germany as those 
vf kobolds or subterranean emperors; but these pictures, I 
believe, are the only local records left to our day. Wid- 
mann’s “ Veritable History ”’ (1599) mentions the year 1525 
as the time when Faust began publicly to practise his magic 
arts, and the same date upon the pictures may signify either 
the year when they were painted, or when the event occurred 
which they illustrate. On this point there is a difference of 
opinion among the antiquarians, since Faust’s fate is men- 
tioned in the inscriptions. Auerbach’s house was rebuilt in 


470 FAUST. 


1530, but the massive, vaulted cellars were evidently left 
from the earlier building. The pictures, which were painted 
by no mean artist, have not only grown very dingy, but they 
were partly repainted in the years 1636, 1707, and 1759. 
Under the present inscriptions, which have also been re- 
newed, there are marks of an older one, probably identical, 
although this cannot now be established as a fact. 

The first picture (about ten feet in length by four in 
height) represents Faust, with a full beard, a ruff around his 
neck, mantle and fur cap, seated at the head of a table, with 
a chased goblet in his hand. Next to him is a student who, 
with lifted arm, is pouring wine from a glass, apparently as 
a libation. Seven others are seated at the table, two of them 
about to drink, while five are playing upon musical instru- 
ments, —a portable clavichord, a lyre, flute, violin, and bass. 
viol. At the left end of the picture there is a barrel of wine, 
with a Ganymede in trunk-hose waiting beside it. A small 
black dog, in the foreground, appears to be watching Faust. 
Under this picture is the inscription : — 


VIVE. BIBE. OBGRASGARE. MEMOR FAVSTI 
HVIVS. ET HVIVS 

POENA:: ADERAT CLAVDO HAC ASTERAT 
AMPLA GRADV. 1525. 


Some of the German scholars read the distich thus : ~ 
Vive, bibe, obgrecare, memor Fausti hujus et hujus 
Poene: aderat claudo hzc, ast erat ampla gradu. 

(Live, drink, carouse, remembering Faust and his punishment: it came 
slowly, but was in ample measure. ) 

The other picture shows Faust, astride of the wine-cask, 
which is flying through the door. His face is turned towards 
the company, and he lifts one hand as a parting salutation. 
The landlord, servants, and students gaze at him and at each 
other with gestures expressive of fear and astonishment. 
The six lines of German doggerel at the bottom of the pic- 
ture also indicate a later date, since they refer to Faust’s 
punishment. Blackie’s translation of this inscription is very 
good : — 


NOTES. 271 


* Doctor Faustus, on that tyde, 
From Auerbach’s cellar away did ryde, 
Upon a wine-cask speedilie, 
As many a mother’s son did see. 
By subtle crafte he did that deede, 
And he received the devil’s meede.”” 


Goethe thus followed the main legend in bringing Faus 
to Leipzig, after the compact with Mephistopheles. There 
are some Satirical touches in the scene, however, which show 
that something of his own recollections was interwoven with 
the tradition. The other incidents taken from the legends 
receive a different coloring from the circumstance that Meph- 
istopheles is made the principal actor, Faust being a pas- 
sive, and even an unwilling, spectator. 


74. Anasty song! Fie! a political song. 

When this line was written, it probably expressed no more 
than a covert contempt for the pretence of a “ holy Roman 
(German) Empire,” which was still kept up in the coronation 
at Frankfurt, and in various legal and official forms. Never- 
theless, the line has been frequently quoted by Goethe’s 
literary enemies as an evidence that he would exclude all 
political aspiration from literature. His silence during the 
great national movement of 1813 and 1814 has been charged 
to an absolute indifference to the fortunes of his country 
and race, and very arbitrary inferences have been drawn 
in regard to his own political sentiments. In a conversation 
with Soret, in 1830, Goethe, after confessing his hearty ad- 
miration of the political songs of Béranger, thus expresses 
his own views : — 

“A political poem is to be considered, however, even in 
the most fortunate case, as the voice of a single nation, and 
in most cases as the voice of a certain party; but, when it 
succeeds, it inspires the highest enthusiasm of the nation or 
the party. Moreover, a political poem is also the product 
of a certain temporary phase of things, which, in passing 
away, deducts from the poem whatever value it may have 
derived directly from the subject” 


272 FA UST. 


He further said, in answer to Soret’s reference to the 
attacks of which he had been the object, in 1814 and after- 
wards: ‘“‘How could I have taken up arms without hate? 
and how could I have hated without youth? If those events 
had found me as a young man of twenty, I should certainly 
not have been the last, but I was already well over sixty 
years old, when they came..... National hatred is quite 
a peculiar thing. You will always find that it is strongest 
and fiercest, in the lowest stages of culture. But there is 
also a stage where it entirely disappears, where one stands 
to some extent aéove the nations, and sympathizes with the 
weal or woe of a neighbor people as with that of one’s own. 
This latter stage of culture suited my nature, and I had con- 
firmed myself in it long before reaching my sixtieth year.” 

So little significance is given to the expression which 
Brander uses, that shortly afterwards, in the same scene, 
Mephistopheles sings a song which is nothing but the keen- 
est political satire. 


75. Soar up, soar up, Dame Nightingale. 

The couplet which Frosch sings belongs to several of the 
early songs of the people. The “ Message of Love,” written 
in 1639, commences : — 

“* Soar up, Dame Nightingale, speed high, 
And to my sweetheart’s window fly!” 
Another song, of the same period, has these lines : — 
‘Dame Nightingale, Dame Nightingale, 
Many thousand times my sweetheart hail !"’ 

The term “Dame Nightingale” was first used by the 
Minnesingers as early as the eleventh century, and has been 
perpetuated in the popular songs and ballads. The second 
fragment which Frosch sings, to annoy Siebel (who has been 
jilted and resents these strains of love), appears to be 
Goethe’s. 


76. There was a rat in the cellar-nest. 
This song, which is entirely Goethe’s own, was probably 


NOTES. 273 


written in September, 1775, during the height of his passion 
for “Lili.” In a letter to the Countess Augusta von Stol- 
berg, written from Offenbach, he says: “‘ The day has gone 
by passably, yet rather heavily: when I got up in the morn: 
ing, I felt well, and wrote a scene of my Faust.”” Then. 
after describing the incidents of the day, he adds: “TI felt, 
all the time, like a rat that has eaten poison: it scampers 
into all holes, drinks all moisture, swallows everything eat: 
able that comes in its way, and its entrails burn with un- 
quenchable fire.” In the song, it is not only Brander 
satirizing Siebel, but also Goethe satirizing himself, in 
order to escape the unrest of the strongest attachment of 
his life. 

The introduction of Luther’s burly figure as a comparison 
seems also intended to ridicule Siebel, who is afterwards 
described by Altmayer as “the bald-pate pot-belly,” and is 
thus drawn by Cornelius, in his illustration of the scene. 
The line, nevertheless, gave great offence in certain quar- 
ters; and when Faust (under Tieck’s direction) was pre- 
pared for representation on the stage, in Dresden, the open- 
ing quatrain of the song was changed in this wise : — 

There was a rat in the cellar-nest 
Who lived on butter and cheeses : 


He had a paunch beneath his vest, 
Like the wisest of the Chineses ! 


77- Paris in miniature, how it refines its people. 

Leipzig, under the supreme rule of Gottsched, was a faint 
and not seldom a ridiculous reflection of Parisian taste, in 
art, literature, and society. Although Lessing, twenty years 
before Goethe, had dealt the first blow at the pedantry and 
affectation of the school, Gottsched was still living, and only 
partially shorn of his authority, when Goethe entered the 
University. In Wahrheit und Dichtung he gives a lively 
picture of the assumed refinements in dress, speech, and 
manners in Leipzig, and the annoyance which he endured 
from being compelled to imitate them. The rough, racy 
directness of the Rhine-German was prohibited to him, as 

12* R 


274 FAUST. 


being vulgar; he was told to use the same expressions in 
speech as in writing, and even his gestures and movements 
were subjected to a continual censorship. 


78 No doubt twas late when you from Rippach started? 

Rippach is the last post-station before reaching Leipzig, 
on the road from Weissenfels. The remark of Frosch is a 
part of the “chaff” with which the older Surschen were 
accustomed to entertain the Faxes, or Freshmen. ‘Hans 
von Rippach ” is a slang name, denoting a coarse, awkward, 
boorish fellow,—in fact, an equivalent for the Scotch Saw- 
ney, 28 itis used in some localities. By hinting that Faust 
and Mephistopheles have been supping with Hans von Rip- 
pach, Frosch takes a delicate way of saying that they are 
ignorant country clowns, in comparison with the refined 
Parisians of Leipzig. 

In Wieland’s correspondence, there is a letter to Merck, 
wherem he complains of the manner in which the world is 
governed by “children, dandies, night-caps, blockheads, 
Don Quixotes and Hans von Rippachs.” 


79. There was a king once reigning. 

The commentators are agreed that this song is the keenest 
and coarsest satire upon those court-favorites who make 
their way to place and power, provide for al] the members 
of their family, and attack and annoy society with perfect 
impunity, so long as they possess the favor of the ruling 
prince. It +s conjectured by some that Goethe had in view 
a particular favorite at the Court of Weimar. Falk says 
that the couplet at the close, repeated as chorus, expresses 
the freedom of the people from the restraints of the court- 
circles, The former are at hberty to suppress plagues and 
parasites whenever they become annoying. 


80. A German can't endure the French to see or hear of. 


Brander’s assertion, in this line, must not be understood 
in a political sense. The national German sentiment, in lit- 


NOTES. 275 


erature, preceded by many years the political hostility, which 
first became general and permanent under the oppressions 
of Napoleon. But at the time this scene was written, there 
was a strong reaction, both against Gottsched and his 
school, and against the subserviency to French literature and 
taste manifested by many of the reigning princes of Ger- 
many, Frederick the Great at their head. Lessing, and 
Klopstock in a still greater measure, had already laid the 
basis of a literary Deutschthum (Germanism), which Goethe 
and his contemporaries confirmed for all time. The change 
of sentiment was first accepted by the younger generation, 
and especially by the students, of whom Brander is the 
shrewdest and most respectable representative present in 
Auerbach’s Cellar. 


81. Now draw the stoppers, and drink your fill! 

Goethe took this specimen of jugglery from the legend, 
where, however, it is not performed by Mephistopheles but 
by Faust. It is related as having taken place in Erfurt: 
“Spake he (Faust), whether they would not like to try a 
foreign wine or two: answered they, Yes, whereupon he 
further asked, whether it should be Rephal, Malvasie. 
Spanish or French wine, and one of them laughing made 
answer, all those kinds were good Then Faust demanded 
a gimlet, began to bore four holes, one after another, on the 
border of the leaf of the table, stuck in stoppers, even as 
people stick spigots in the heads of casks, called for several 
fresh glasses, and, when all this had been done, he drew out 
one stopper after another, and behold! out of each of the 
aforesaid holes flowed unto each one the wine he had re- 
quired, even as out of four casks, from the dry leaf of the 
table.” 

By making Mephistopheles the active agent in these delu- 
sions, the scene in Auerbach’s Cellar assumes a different 
character from that which it bears in the legend. Faust 
speaks but twice, once simply in greeting, and again to ex- 
press his wish to leave. From this point, he has nothing in 
tommon with the traditional Faust. 


276 FAUST. 


82. False word and form of air, 
Change place, and sense ensnare! 


This last prank of Mephistopheles is also borrowed from 
the Faust-legend, although it appears to be derived from 
some older tradition. It is thus related in the work of 
Camerarius (1602): “Once, when he (Faust) was in com- 
pany with some of his acquaintances, who had heard much 
of his magic arts, they begged him to give them a specimen 
of his powers. After refusing for a long while, be finally 
yielded to the tumultuous request of the not wholly sober 
company, and promised to give them whatever they desired. 
When they then unanimously asked for a vine full of ripe 
grapes, in the belief that he would not be able to furnish such 
a thing in that season (it being winter, namely), Faust prom- 
ised that he would cause a vine to grow instantly forth from 
the table, under the condition, that, until he should allow 
them to cut off the grapes, they would observe the deepest 
silence and not stir in their seats, otherwise they would be 
in peril of death, When they had accepted this condition, 
he so deluded the eyes and senses of the carousing company 
that they fancied to see a very beautiful vine, with as many 
wonderfully great bunches of grapes on it as there were 
persons present. Enticed by the marvel of the thing, and 
thirsty from drinking, they took hold of their knives, await- 
ing the moment when they should be allowed to cut off the 
bunches. Faust left them for a considerable time in their 
delusion, until finally the vine and grapes disappeared as a 
vapor, and they perceived that they had taken the noses of 
each other to be the bunches, and had set their knives 
thereto.” 

The refrain, “As ’t were five hundred hogs,” etc., which 
the students sing, after drinking the various wines, has the 
character of certain coarse Bacchanalian measures, still 
common to their class. Perhaps the resemblance in sound 
between sax/f” (swill !) and saw (sow) originally suggested the 
use of the latter as a vulgar slang word. Even Goethe once 
speaks of himself, in a letter to Merck, as being saswohd. 


NOTES. 277 


83. Witches Kitchen. 


Neither this scene nor the Walpurgis-Night (Scene X XI.) 
has any connection with the Faust-legend. The chief motive 
of the Witches’ Kitchen is, of course, the passional! rejuve- 
nation of Faust, as introductory to the episode of Margaret; 
but Goethe, with a wilful spirit, not unfrequently manifested 
in his life and writings, seems to have also designed bur- 
lesqueing the machinery of witchcraft and its use in litera- 
ture. He wrote the scene towards the close of March, 1788, 
in the gardens of the Villa Borghese, outside the wall of 
Rome, at a time when his mind was thoroughly possessed 
with the grace and beauty and irrecoverable symmetry of 
ancient art. Perhaps, therefore, the very contrast between 
his strong zsthetic passion and the character of his theme 
led him to give the latter the ugliest, coarsest, and absurdest 
expression. The scene has been a puzzle to many com- 
mentators, because in the dialogues of Mephistopheles, the 
Witch, and the Animals, some occult meaning is often pro- 
vokingly implied. Goethe was too admirable an artist not 
to bave intended this very effect, and not to have accom- 
plished it by the simplest method, — that of giving the jargon 
of witchcraft to his own definite ideas ; but, that there was 
no necessary coherence between those ideas, no consistent 
allegory intended, is evident from his own words, reported 
by Falk: “They have now been tormenting themselves 
for nearly thirty years with the broomsticks of the Blocks- 
berg and the cat-dialogues of the Witches’ Kitchen, but they 
have never yet rightly succeeded in interpreting and alle- 
gorizing that dramatic-humoristic nonsense. Really, one ought 
to play the joke oftener in his youth, and give them such 
morsels as the Brocken.” [There is an untranslatable pun 
in the original —solche Brocken wie den Brocken.] 

There has been a great deal of not very important discus- 
sion as to the meaning of the word Meerkatee. It has been 
translated ‘“‘ Monkey,” “‘ Baboon,” “‘Cat-Ape,”’ “ Cat,” and 
“Little Ring-tailed Monkey.” I follow Mephistopheles, 
himself, in using the word “ Ape,” (Wie giiicklich wiirde sich 


278 FAUST. 


der Affe schétzen !) which will answer as well as any other 
for those who insist on symbolism. Goethe probably took 
his Meerkatser from the legend of Reineke Fuchs, wherein 
they are introduced. 


84. Full thirty years from my existence. 

There is here an apparent contradiction between the age 
of Faust and that which is implied in the first scene. The 
deduction of thirty years, we must suppose, should leave him 
as a youth of twenty, to begin his new experience of life ; 
yet we can hardly imagine the man who has been teaching 
for only ten years, and has barely attained his Doctor’s de- 
gree, to be more than thirty-five. Diintzer thinks this is an 
oversight of Goethe, arising from the long interva) between 
the composition of the two scenes. 


85. We're cooking watery soup for beggars. 

Here we have a clew to some of the masked satire ia the 
scene. In July, 1797, Goethe writes to Schiller concerning 
a volume which he sends at the same time: “ Herewith 
goes the again murdered, or rather putrefied, Gustavus IJ. ; 
it is really just such a beggars’ soup as the German public 
likes.” Falk died before the correspondence was published, 
or he would not have given the following explanation of the 
line: ‘An ironical reference to the coarse superstitions 
which extend with a thick palpable shade among all nations 
throughout the history of the world.” There seems to be no 
doubt that in this expression and in the disjointed rhymes 
uttered by the he-ape, Goethe meant to designate certain 
classes of literary works, popular in Germany at the time. 


86. Wert thou the thief. 


The art of divination by means of a sieve (4oshinomancy) 
was known to the ancients : it is mentioned in the third idy] 
of Theocritus. In the life of Campanella—the Dominican 
monk, with whose work, De Sensu Rerum, Goethe appears 
to have been acquainted—the following story occurs: 
“Some boys had lost a mantle, and in order to find ou 





NOTES. 279 


whither it had taken its flight, they hung up a sieve by the 
middle on a peg, and then uttered the words ‘In the name 
of St. Peter and in the name of St. Paul, has not so and so 
stolen the mantle?’ They went over a number of names in 
the same manner, but the sieve remained immovable, till 
they pronounced the name of Flavius, and then it began to 
wheel round about. Campanella, who saw it, was much 
astonished, and prayed with the boys that God would not 
suffer them to be blinded by the devil ; and, on making the 
trial again, as soon as the name of Flavius was pronounced, 
it began to wheel round about in a circle.” — Adelung, 
Blackie's translation. 


87. What dol see? What heavenly form revealed. 


Some of the commentators insist that the form which Faust 
sees in the magic mirror is that of Margaret, whom he meets 
in the following scene; others suppose it to be Helena, 
although when she appears in the Second Part (end of 
Act I.) he expressly declares that the vision in the mirror 
was but “a frothy phantom of such beauty.” A reference 
to Goethe’s Jetters from Rome is all that is needed to satisfy 
us that it is not an individual, but the perfect beauty of the 
female form, which fascinates the eyes and brain of Faust. 
Indeed, his exclamation, “Is it possible, then, that woman 
is so beautiful?” indicates this, without any further evidence. 

For nearly a year Goethe occupied himself with the study 
of the human form, drawing from the antique and from life, 
modelling in clay, and striving to develop a little technical 
ability in Art. At the commencement of this period of 
study he writes : ‘‘ Now at last I am possessed by the a/pha 
and omega of all known things, the human form, and I cry: 
‘Lord I will cling to thee until thou blessest me!’ though 
I grow lame in the struggle.”’ Eight or nine months later, 
just before his departure from Rome, he says: ‘‘In sucha 
presence [that of the antique sculptures] one becomes more 
than one’s ordinary self; one feels, that the noblest subject 
with which we can b2 occupied, is the human form.” In 
other letters he speaks of the disinclination with which he 
teturns to ‘* formdess Germany.” 





280 FAUST. 


The image in the mirror is not a sensual but a purely 
zsthetic symbol, the significance of which is not further 
developed in the First Part of the work. The coarser ele- 
ment through which Mephistopheles achieves a temporary 
power over Faust is represented by the potion which the 
witch administers to the latter. 


88. We hear and we rhyme. 


These lines, with the preceding and following ones, have 
(perhaps purposely) a mixed significance. The crown which 
the animals bring may be that of France, which, though 
glued or belimed with the sweat and blood of the people, 
was virtually broken at the time the passage was written ; 
yet the line quoted above certainly refers again to the dreary 
jingle of an inferior class of poets, who now and then, by 
sheer good luck, get possession of a thought. The remark 
of Mephistopheles, just before the appearance of the witch, 
must be understood in the same sense. The reader must 
not expect more than a half-interpretation of these passages, 
and that only by giving up the idea of a coherent design. 


89. 1t’s long been written in the Book of Fable. 


The conversation between Mephistopheles and the witch 
is full of ironical suggestions. It ridicules the popular idea 
of the Devil, with his horns, hoofs, and the attendant ravens 
(borrowed from Odin); it slyly refers to the denial of a 
personal Spirit of Evil. promulgated by Kant in his philoso- 
phy and Schleiermacher in his theology; it asserts that, 
although men may be rid of the Evil One, there is not there- 
fore any the less evil in the world ; and, by implication, satir- 
izes the aristocracy through the claim of Mephistopheles to 
the title of Baron. 


90. This ts the witch's once-one’s-one ! 
The common schoolboy term for the multiplication-table 
in Germany is Ziama/leins, from its commencement, Zinmal 
tins ist eins — once one is one! The jargon which the witch 





NOTES. 281 


declaims from the book is nothing but a nonsensical parody 
of the cabalistic formula of the Middle Ages, wherein mysti- 
cal properties are attributed to numbers. 

In the Paralipomena, there is a verse which is generally 
attributed to the omitted Disputation, yet which seems more 
appropriate in this place. Mephistopheles says (apparently 
to Faust) : — 

Now, once for all, mark this, I pray — 
A maxim weighty for thine actions ! 


No mystery the numbers here convey, 
Yet there ’s a great one in the fractions. 


Ql. A contradiction thus complete. 


The irreverent irony of Mephistopheles in this passage 
hardly needs explanation. Some of the commentators have 
shown great skill in avoiding the true interpretation. Hin- 
richs, for example, asserts that it refers to Hegel’s system of 
philosophy! Diintzer says: “One should properly attribute 
this irony to Mephistopheles alone, and entirely absolve the 
poet from it.” Goethe, nevertheless, used the mask of 
Mephistopheles whenever it suited his convenience. In 
1824, when speaking to Eckermann of his early life, he said : 
‘I believed in God, in Nature, and in the final triumph of 
Good over Evil; but that was not enough for the pious 
souls. I was also required to believe that Three were One, 
and One was Three, against which the instinct of truth in 
my soul revolted: moreover, I could not perceive how I 
should be helped thereby, in the slightest degree.” 

Although the witch bewilders Faust when she speaks 
again, she nevertheless expresses an article of Goethe’s 
poetic creed — that the truest and deepest insight into things 
is not the result of conscious labor, but falls upon the mind as 
a free, pure, unsuspected gift. His distaste for metaphysics 
arose from the fact that it forced him to think about his 
thinking; whereas his object always was to preserve the 
freedom, freshness, and spontaneous activity of his mind. 
The lines declaimed by the witch suggest another of his 
ephoristic fragments : — 


282 FA OST. 


Yes, that is the proper way, 

When one can’t say 

What one thinks, 

If one thinks ; 

But everything comes as if freely given ! 


92. The noble indolence [ll teach thee then to treasure. 


Mephistopheles understands very well that an indolent, 
unregulated habit of life contributes to the growth of all 
forms of physical appetite. He shows, throughout, such 
familiarity with theological matters, that we may not un- 
reasonably suspect him of having taken a hint from Dr. 


Watts :— 
** For Satan finds some mischief still 


For idle hands to do.”’ 


Perhaps Mephistopheles also recalled these lines, from 
Milton’s Paradise Regained : — 
“* For Solomon, he lived at ease, and full 
Of honor, wealth, high fare, aim’d not beyond 


Higher design than to enjoy his state : 
Thence to the bait of women lay exposed.”’ 


93- MARGARET. 


We now take leave of the original Faust-legend, which 
will not again be encountered until the appearance of Helena, 
in the Second Part. The episode of Margaret is Goethe's 
own creation, from beginning to end, and here, even more 
than in the first monologue of Faust, he ‘‘ delved in his own 
breast’’ for the passion which he represents. Margaret is 
drawn partly from her namesake, whom Goethe, as a boy of 
sixteen, imagined he loved ; and partly from his betrothed, 
Lili (Anna Elizabeth Schénemann, the daughter of a banker 
in Frankfurt), for whom he felt probably the strongest love 
of his life, at the time these scenes of his Faust were written, 

Gretchen (Maggie), or Margaret, is one of the fairest and 
sweetest figures in the fifth book of Wasrheit und Dichtung. 
Goethe describes how his facility in writing poems for occa- 
sions brought him accidentally into society very much below 
that into which he was born. Some of these chance com: 





NOTES. 283 


panions were even disreputable, and his association with 
them was finally broken off by the legal investigations con- 
cerning a forgery which one of them committed. Ata house 
where they met, Margaret first appeared to wait upon them 
in the place of a maid-servant. She was three or four years 
older than Goethe, who was then in his sixteenth year, and 
her quiet grace, beauty, and natural dignity made an instant 
and deep impression upon him. “She was for the most 
part,” he says, “calm and quiet. Her habit was to sit with 
her arms crossed, leaning upon the table, a position which 
showed her to great advantage ; and she would thus sit for 
a long time together, with now and then a slight motion of 
her head, which, however, was never made without meaning. 
At times she threw in a word to help on the conversation, 
but when she had done this, she immediately resumed her 
calm and quiet attitude of attention.” 

The account he gives of her manner suggests Faust’s first 
interview with Margaret: “She gave no one her hand, not 
¢ven me; she allowed no one to touch her: only, she often 
sat down beside me, especially when I wrote or read aloud, 
and then she placed her arm familiarly on my shoulder, 
looked into the book, or on my verses, but when I attempted 
to take the same freedom with her she immediately drew 
back, and did not return so soon again. Yet she often re- 
peated this position, and, indeed, there was a great uniform- 
ity in all her gestures and motions, though they were always 
graceful and beautiful.” 

The last time Goethe saw her, just before the arrest of the 
forger, she kissed him on the forehead at parting; but both 
his love and self-love were bitterly wounded when, in the in- 
vestigation which took place —and from which she came 
forth with a spotless character —she testified that she had 
looked upon him as a boy in whom she felt the interest of an 
elder sister, and had encouraged his innocent liking for her 
for the purpose of watching over and protecting him. She 
left Frankfurt soon afterwards, and Goethe never heard of 
ber again. 

The engagement between Goethe and Lili, to whom he. 


284 FAUST. 


wrote some of his finest brief lyrics, was broken off by the 
opposition of their respective families. The uncertainty and 
unrest of his love is reflected in that of Faust. All the 
scenes in which Margaret appears, up to that in the Cathe- 
dral (Scene XX.), with the exception of Faust’s encounter 
with Valentine (Scene XIX.), were written during the spring 
of 1775, and Goethe’s relation to Lili was not finally broken 
off until August of that year. 

Margaret is one of the most pure and pathetic creations in 
literature. Ignorant, uneducated (she uses none but the 
simplest words and sometimes speaks ungrammatically), art- 
lessly vain, yielding to deceit, and finally led to infamy, 
crime, and madness, she is both real in her words and ways 
and ideal in her embodiment of the pure woman-nature, and 
of that alone. The German critics have made her typical 
of many things, but she will always remain what Goethe 
intended her to be —simply a woman. In her language, 
throughout, there are no references except to Goethe’s own 
early experiences of love: the reader may study her charac- 
ter for himself, although an indescribable bloom and fresh- 
ness is lost in transferring her story to another language. 


94. How short and sharp of speech was she. 


Perhaps the word “snappish” would best express the 
meaning of the German phrase 4urs angebunden. Lord Leve- 
son Gower, deceived by the form of the idiom, fell into a 
very amusing blunder. He translates the couplet : — 

* As with her gown held up, she fled, 
That well-turned ankle well might turn one’s head !” 

We are less surprised that a French translator should 
have made the same mistake, and given the first line thus : 
“Comme elle avait des courtes jupes!” “Even Blaze, whose 
translation in many other respects is so careful and intelli- 
gent, says: “‘ Quel corsage bien pris!” 


95: Most Worthy Pedagogue, take heed ! 


The original, Mein Herr Magister Lobesan, is given in a 
different form by almost every translator. Goethe perhaps 


NOTES. 285 


borrowed the expression from the title of a satirical poem by 
Neumeister, published in 1624—‘“ The Crowned M., in 
German, Magister Lobesan.” Diintzer says it is a nick- 
name applied to a Magister who makes a pompous display 
of his dignity. Inasmuch as Faust ironically assumes that 
Mephistopheles attempts to teach him morals, I have chosen 
the word “ Pedagogue” as an equivalent. The following 
are some of the varieties of translation, and they may help 
the reader to a clearer comprehension of the phrase :— 

Brackig. — Sir Knight of Pedantry. 

Haywarp. — My good Mr. Sermonizer. 

Brooks. — My worthy Master Gravity. 

Martin. — Master Graveairs. 

Leveson Gowsgr. — Mr. Check-my-speed. 

ANsTER. — Most Reverend. 

Brresrorp. — Sir Laudable. 


96. As in Italhtan tales ’t is taught. 

The word welsche (or wélscke) may signify either French 
or Italian: in the Middle Ages it was often used in the 
sense of “foreign.” Hartung supposes that by welsche 
Geschich? Goethe simply meant romances, of whatever coun- 
try; but it seems more probable that he had in mind the 
amorous stories of Boccaccio, or the Heptameron. 


97. O welcome, twilight soft and sweet ! 


The reader will not fail to notice the entire change in 
Faust, since the preceding scene, although only a few hours 
are supposed to have elapsed. The “ atmosphere” upon 
which Mephistopheles has calculated in advance, exercises 
an influence of which he seems to be ignorant, while Faust, 
after his first surrender to the new impression, hardly rec- 
ognizes himself. At the meeting with Margaret, it is the 
witch’s potion which speaks through him: here, the better 
though obscure aspiration (vide the ‘* Prologue in Heaven’”’) 
repossesses him, under the new, blissful, yet disquieting 
form of love. Mephistopheles is, naturally, incapable of un- 
derstanding the transformation in Faust’s feelings, because 
the strongest negation of his denying nature is that of love. 





286 FA OST. 


Goethe was not only keenly sensitive to the operation of 
atmospheric influences upon the mind, but he also believed 
in the existence of a spiritual aura, through which impres- 
sions, independent of the external senses, might be commu- 
nicated. It is the atmosphere of peace, and order, and 
contentment, and chastity, which unconsciously touches 
Faust, in Margaret’s chamber; and it is the sultry breath 
of evil,-of impending temptation and ruin, which oppresses 
Margaret on her return. 


98. J know not, should I do it? 


Faust is so far redeemed by his awakening love that he 
hesitates to use the gift which he had commanded Mephis- 
topheles to furnish. The latter purposely misunderstands his 
hesitation, and accuses him of wishing to keep the casket of 
jewels for himself. Nevertheless, it is he, and not Faust, 
who places the casket in the press. 


99. There wasa King in Thule. 


According to Goethe’s statement this ballad was written 
in July, 1774, when he repeated it to his friend Jacobi. It 
does not appear to have been originally intended for Fausé, 
as were the songs in Auerbach’s Cellar; yet it is most fitting 
that Margaret, in this crisis of her fate, should sing a ballad 
of love and death, wherein the word Buhle (mistress or 
leman) has a prophetic character. The “ King of Thule” 
was first published in 1782 in a collection of ‘‘Sungs of the 
People,” set to music by Baron von Seckendorff, with the 
announcement added: ‘“‘ From Goethe’s Dr Faust.” ‘This 
was eight years before the publication of this scene, in the 
‘“‘ Fragment.” 

It would seem impossible for any one to read the ballad 
and not be satisfied with the story it so simply tells; yet one 
of Goethe’s commentators, Hartung, insists on the following 
interpretation: “It is based, like the ballad of ‘The Fisher.’ 
on a deeper meaning. For, while the dying King grants all 
else to his heirs, the elements, he gives only to the great 
ocean that which is must precious to him—his Self, his 








NOTES. 284 


soul, which he desires shal] be united to the world-soul, no 
matter whether it shall melt as a drop into the element of 
soul-ether, or, hardened into a pearl, continue its individual 
existence.” 

As I have stated in the Preface, the feminine rhymes of 
the first and third lines of each verse have been omitted, in 
order to make the translati»n strictly literal. I have taken 
this liberty (the only one I have allowed myself, in the lyri- 
cal passages of the work) the more readily, because the 
redundant syllable partly atones to the ear for the absence 
of rhyme. In this instance I have considered it especially 
necessary to preserve the simplicity of the original, and (if 
that be possible) the weird, mystic sweetness of its move- 
ment. To show how entirely these qualities may be lost, in 
a language further removed from German than ours, I quote 
Blaze’s translation of the last two verses : — 


* Puis, se levant, le vieux compére 
Huma le dernier coup vital, 
Et jeta le sacré métal 
Dans les vagues de l’onde amére. 


“Tl le vit tomber, s’engloutir ; 
Et quand il n’eut plus aucun doute, 
Sentit ses yeux s’appesantir, 
Puis jamais ne but une goutte ” 


100. With heavenly manna she'll repay it 


Margaret’s mother seems to have quoted from Revelation 
fi. 17: “To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the 
hidden manna,” and the parson, in the line “ Who over- 
cometh, winneth too,” remembers verses 7, 11, and 26 in the 
same chapter. 


ror. THE NEIGHBOR’s HOUSE. 


This scene surely requires no further explanation than 
that contained in the two succeeding notes. The characters 
ef Martha, Margaret, and Mephistopheles are placed before 
us, in the clearest manner, by a few simple, realistic touches. 
I need not repeat the conjectures of critics concerning Dame 


288 FAUST. 


Martha’s age and personal appearance. Here, and in Scene 
XII., she is represented with such distinctness that the reade- 
cannot mistake the part which Goethe intended her to fill. 
If anything further were necessary, Mephistopheles charac- 
terizes her sufficiently, in the following scene. 


102. Jn Padua buried, he is lying, 
Beside the good Saint Antony. 

If this is anything more than a random statement of Meph- 
istopheles, the irony is neither keen nor especially impor- 
tant. The Saint is not the Antony of the Desert and the 
temptations and the Irish ballad, but Antonio of Padua, a 
relative of Godfrey of Bouillon. He was born in Lisbon in 
1195, preached with such fervor that even the fishes rose to 
the surface of the sea to listen to him, and died in Padua in 
1231. The splendid basilica in which his ashes rest was not 
completed until two centuries later. His chapel, with its 
alti rilievi by Lombardi, Sansovino, and others, still attracts 
the student of art. 

Interments within the walls of cathedrals and churches in 
Italy were not prohibited until the year 1809. 


103. J want his death in the weekly paper stated. 


There is, in Germany, an official registration of all mar- 
riages, births, and deaths, which are published at stated 
intervals. The laws relating to marriage require both par- 
ties to furnish testimony that there are no legal impediments 
to their union; hence the officially published death of Herr 
Schwerdtlein is necessary, before Dame Martha can prop- 
erly be considered a widow and at liberty to accept a second 
spouse. 


104. For thou art right, especially since I must. 


Faust, in this line, admits his dependence on the aid of 
Mephistopheles, and the necessity of giving false testimor. 
in order to procure an interview with Margaret. No change 
in the character of his passion is implied. 

There is a passage in the Paralifomena which seems natu- 








NOTES. 289 


raily co belong here, although some of the German commen- 
tators have given it a different place. Mephistopheles says, 
apparently after Faust’s departure, when he has impatiently 
spoken che above line : — 


’T is hard, indeed, the younker’s ways commanding ; 
Yet, as his tutor, I’ve no fear 

I shall not rule the madcap, notwithstanding, 
And nothing else concerns me here. 

His own desires J let him follow slowly, 

That mine, as well, may be accomplished wholly. 
Much do I talk, yet always leave him free ; 

If what he does should quite too stupid be, 

My wisdom, thes, must make a revelation, 

And I must drag him forth, as by the hair: 

Yet, while one strives the folly to repair, 

One gives for other folly fresh occasion. 


105. All times I'll have to think on you, all places ! 


These two lines are literally: ‘Think but a little mo- 
ment’s space on me; I shall have time enough to think of 
you.” I have been obliged, by the exigency of rhyme, to 
express the latter phrase in different words; yet this is one 
or those instances where #0 English words, though they may 
perfectly convey the meaning, can possibly carry with them 
the fulness and tenderness of sentiment which we feel in the 
original. “/ch werde Zeit genug an euch su denken haben” 
suggests, in some mysterious way, a contrast between Faust’s 
place in life and Margaret’s, between the love of man and 
that of woman, which the words do not seem to retain, when 
translated. 


106. She plucks a star-flower. 


The original, sternd/ume, may mean either a china-aster, a 
star-of-Bethlehem, a variety of primrose or of jonquil. Va. 
rious modes of amorous divination by means of flowers were 
known to the ancients (one of them is mentioned by Theoc- 
ritus), and the Minnesinger, Walther von der Vogelweide, 
describes a very similar method of ascertaining whether a 
lover’s affection is returned. The single daisy (Ganseb/iim- 

VOL. L 13 s 


290 FAUST. 


then in German) is sometimes used for the same purpose, 
but it is a garden-flower, of course, which Margaret plucks. 


107. J/t’s as tf nobody had nothing to fetch and carry. 

The effect of a double negative in German is precisely the 
same as in English, and it belongs equally to the vulgar dia- 
lect. Goethe introduces it intentionally here as well as in 
Scene XVI., where Margaret says, speaking of Mephistoph. 
eles: ‘One sees that in nothing no interest he hath.” 1 
have not felt at liberty to correct these purposed inelegances, 
as most translators have done. They are trifling touches, 
it is true, but they belong to the author’s design. 


108. FOREST AND CAVERN. 


Most of the German critics unite in the opinion that this 
scene must have been written during Goethe’s residence in 
Rome, or immediately after his return to Weimar. There is 
a certain slight variation in tone which distinguishes it from 
the earlier scenes. Mr. Lewes, in his ‘“ Life of Goethe,” 
says: “I do not understand the relation of this scene to 
the whole.” But, in his sketch of the growth of Fusst, Mr. 
Lewes does not seem to be aware of the publication of the 
“Fragment” in 1790. The “ Forest and Cavern” is there 
given, not in its present position, but immediately after the 
scene “ At the Fountain” (Scene XVII.), and consequently 
after Margaret's fall. Goethe’s first design was, evidently, 
to drive Faust from Margaret’s presence through the re- 
morse following the deed, and his transfer of the scene to its 
present place substitutes a moral resistance in advance of 
the deed for the earlier motive. The character of Faust’s 
love is not only elevated by this change, but the element of 
good in his nature is again actively, and not merely rea 
tevely, developed. 

Some commentators have found a contradiction between 
Faust’s almost inspired enjoyment of Nature in this scene, 
and the character of his first monologue. Yet, if we read 
the latter carefully, we shall find it pervaded with a longing 
for ‘‘the broad, free land,” for release from the imprison- 








NOTES. 291 


ment of unsatisfying studies. His impatience is not with 
Nature, but with the inadequacy of the physical sciences, 
which endeavor to wrench from her “with levers, screws. 
and hammers,” the secrets “which she doth not willingly 
display.” Faust looks on Nature, now, with the eyes of a 
lover, and she is transformed to his senses. It is no longer 
a cold, amazed acquaintance ; her bosom is open to him -s 
that of a friend, and all living creatures become his brothers. 
The scoff of Mephistopheles does not move him, but he at 
last succumbs to the picture which the latter draws of Mar- 
garet’s loneliness and sorrow. 

In Wahrheit und Dichtung we find the original suggestion 
of the scene. After Goethe’s separation from the Margaret 
of his boyhood, and the illness which followed, the paternal 
government was more rigidly enforced. He was furnished 
with a private tutor, a man of intelligence and of a kindly, 
sympathetic nature, who soon became a friend. Goethe, 
nevertheless, remained depressed and boyishly misanthropic 
foratime. “I drew my friend with me into the woods,” he 
says. ‘‘Leaving the monotonous fir-trees behind me, I 
sought those beautiful, leafy groves, which are, indeed, of no 
very great extent in that region, but are nevertheless of a 
size sufficient to furnish concealment for a poor wounded 
heart. I selected, in the deepest part of the wood, a sombre 
spot where the ancient oaks and beeches grandly overshad- 
owed a broad space of soil. The ground sloped upwards, 
which added to the effect of the massive old trunks. This 
clear space was surrounded with dense thickets, out of which 
rose the venerable forms of moss-grown rocks, and an abun- 
dant brook poured over them in a rapid cascade..... 

“What I then felt, is still present to my mind; what I 
said, it would be impossible for me to recall.” 

Hartung, in his comment on this scene, says: ‘‘He 
(Faust) also shanks God that He has given to him the com- 
rade whom he can no longer do without,” etc. The reader 
can judge for himself whether Faust does not simply toler- 
ate the presence of Mephistopheles, through his conviction 
that “nothing can be perfect unto man,” and the new ec- 





202 FAUST. 


stasy he feels must therefore be balanced by the degrading 
fellowship. 


109. One dares not that before chaste ears declare. 


“Qui reprehendunt et irrident quod ea quz re turpia nor 
sint, nominibus ac verbis flagitiosa ducamus, illa autem que 
turpia sint nominibus appellemus suis : latrocinare, fraudare, 
adulterare re turpe est, sed dicitur non obscene ; liberis 
dare operam, re honestum est, nomine obsccenum.” — Cicero, 


Of: I., 35- 


110. Enough of that! Thy love sits lonely yonder. 


Mephistopheles is shrewd enough to perceive that Faust 
is thus far insensible to his mockery. He here suddenly 
changes his tactics, and draws such a picture of the forsaken 
Margaret that Faust, even in the exclamation “ Serpent: 
serpent!” betrays how much he is moved. In this excla- 
mation, and the assae¢ of Mephistopheles, I have omitted the 
rhyme of the original, which could not possibly be repro- 
duced without losing the subtile suggestiveness of the words. 
Mr. Brooks nearly overcomes the difficulty by translating as 
follows : — 


Faust. Viper! Viper! 
MEPHISTOPHELES (aside). Ay, and the prey grows riper I 


111. “ Were la little bird!” so runs her song. 


This is an old song of the people in Germany. Herder 
published it in his Voldshieder, in 1779; but it was no doubt 
already familiar to Goethe in his childhood. The original 
melody, to which it is still sung, is as simple and sweet as 
the words. I cannot do better than to borrow Mr. Brooks's 
translation, which is very literal : — 


‘* Were I a little bird, 
_Had I two wings of mine, 
I’d fly to my dear; 
But that can never be, 
So I stay here. 





NOTES. 293 


‘¢ Though I am far from thee, 
Sleeping I ’m near to thee, 
Talk with my dear; 

When I awake again, 
I am alone. 


“* Scarce there ’s an hour in the night 
When sleep does not take its flight, 
And I think of thee, 

How many thousand times 
Thou gav’st thy heart to me.” 


The expression “wept beyond her tears” is ausgrweint 
(outwept) in the original. Goethe probably remembered 
the line of Dante (/n/ferno, Canto XX XIII.) : — 


Lo pianto stesso li pianger non lascia. 


‘* Weeping itself there does not Jet them weep, 
And grief that finds a barrier in the eyes 
Turns itself inward to increase the anguish.” 
Long fellow’s translation. 


112. On your twin-pair, that feed among the roses. 


The Song of Solomon is one of those books of the Old 
Testament which Faust, in his contract with Mephistoph- 
eles, according to one form of the old legend, was permitted 
to read. We should not be surprised, therefore, to find the 
latter quoting from it, although not quite correctly. 

‘“‘ Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, 
which feed among the lilies.” — iv. 5. 

Mr. Hayward quotes from a private letter to himself the 
following singular advice which Schlegel gives in regard te 
this couplet : — 

“Je ne vous conseille pas de traduire cela littéralement. 
On jeterait les hauts cris.” 


113. MARGARET (at the spinning-wheel, alone). 


This and the foregoing scene may be considered as nearly 
identical in time. The lovers are separated: Faust strug- 
gles with all the force of his nobler instinct to resist his 
passion, while Margaret is wholly possessed by an intense, 
anreasoning yearning for his presence. In representing her 


294 FA OST. 


as seated at the spinning-wheel, Goethe again remembers 
the Margaret of his boyhood. Visiting the house on one 
occasion, to meet, by appointment, the circle into which he 
had been drawn, he says: ‘Only one of the young people 
was at home. Margaret sat at the window and span; the 
mother went back and forth..... She (Margaret) arose, 
left her spinning-wheel, and approaching the table where I 
sat gave me a severe lecture, yet with much good sense and 
kindness.” | 

Although some have fancied that in the opening line, 
Meine Ruk’ ist hin, the lulling sound of the spinning-wheel 
is indicated, the verses are meant to be a revery, not a song. 
They are, indeed, articulate sighs ; the lines are almost as 
short and simple as the first speech of a child, and the least 
deviation from either the meaning or the melody of the 
original (even the change of meine into my, in the first line) 
takes away something of its indescribable sadness and 
strength of desire. In the first verse, which is twice re- 
peated as a refrain, I have been obliged to choose between 
the repetition of the word feace in the third line and the use 
of a pronoun which cannot, as in the German, fix its antece- 
dent by its gender. The reader who prefers the grammatical 
form to the more natural expression will at least understand 
that it is here impossible to give both. There are prece- 
dents for either alternative, in former translations. 


114. Hear me not falsely, sweetest countenance ! 


When Faust says, ‘‘ And as for Church and Faith, I leave 
to each his own,” it is Goethe who speaks. His maxim 
through life was not only tolerance but a respectful recogni- 
tion of all forms of religious belief. Margaret here repre- 
sents a class not peculiar to Germany. She insists on a 
categorical explanation of Faust’s views, and when, in an- 
swer to her question: “‘ Believest thou in God?” he hints at 
the impossibility of comprehending the Divine Essence, she 
misses the familiar phrases of her creed, and immediately 
infers: ‘“‘ Then thou believest not!” 

The passage which follows has been the subject of a great 





NOTES. 295 


deal of comment, from Madame de Staél (in her De ’Alle- 
magne) to the latest writer on Faust. There is, however, 
sufficient evidence that Goethe meant to state his own — 
imperfect, as he admitted it to be — conception of the Deity. 
He read Spinoza at an early age, and frequently expressed 
his concurrence in the views of that philosopher, concern- 
ing the ‘“‘immanence” of God in all things. The sun, the 
stars, the earth, the human heart and all its emotions, are 
simply “ invisible, visible’? manifestations of His existence. 
Goethe’s intention is to acknowledge Him in His Infinite 
aspects, not to define or describe Him. 

In 1829, he said to Eckermann: “ The period of doubt is 
past: every one, now, would as soon think of doubting his 
own existence as that of God. Moreover, the nature of God, 
immortality, the being of the soul and its connection with 
the body are eternal problems, wherein the philosophers are 
unable to give us any further knowledge.” 

Two years later, Eckermann gives the following report of 
Goethe’s views. The latter was then eighty-two years old. 
‘* He is very far from supposing that he truly apprehends the 
Highest Being. All his ora) and written utterances have 
inculcated the belief that God is an inscrutable Existence, 
whereof man has but approximate glimpses and presenti- 
ments. All Nature and we human beings are, nevertheless, 
so penetrated with the Divine element, that it sustains us, 
that in it we live, work and be; that we sorrow and rejoice 
through the operation of eternal laws, which we fulfil and 
which are fulfilled in us, whether we perceive them or not. 
He is firmly convinced that the Divine Power is everywhere 
manifested, and that the Divine Love is everywhere active.” 

In 1823 Goethe said to Soret: ‘‘ With the people, and 
especially with the clergymen, who have Him daily upon 
their tongues, God becomes a phrase, a mere name, which 
they utter without any accompanying idea. But if they were 
penetrated with His greatness, they would rather be dumb, 
and for very reverence would not dare to name Him.” 

This passage in Faust has sometimes been designated 
“Goethe’s creed,” —an expression which he would have 


296 FAUST. 


repelled, since he considered all creeds as attempts to express 
something beyond the reach of human intelligence. In 1813 
he wrote to his friend Jacobi: ‘‘ For my part, with the mani- 
fold directions in which my nature moves, I cannot be satis- 
fied with a single mode of thought. As Poet and Artist J 
am a polytheist ; on the other hand, as a student of Nature 
I am a pantheist, — and both with equal positiveness. When 
I need a God for my personal nature, as a moral and spirit- 
ual man, He also exists for me. The heavenly and the 
earthly things are such an immense realm, that it can only 
be grasped by the collective intelligence of all beings.” 

Whether Faust’s explanation is pantheism, in either a 
spiritual or a materialistic form ; whether it is an ss#doctrinal 
view permitted to a Christian, or, as Margaret fears, there is 
“no Christianity ” in it, — are questions which the reader 
will decide for himself. The terms Pantheism, Materialism, 
and even Christianity, are so liable to random and partisan 
use, that I prefer to leave without comment a passage, of 
which Mr. Lewes says: “ Grander, deeper, holier thoughts 
are not to be found in poetry.” 


115. AT THE FOUNTAIN. 


This is another of the scenes written in 1775. Its direct 
and occasionally coarse realism has been condemned by some 
critics, and one or two of the expressions have generally 
been softened in translation. The vulgarity of Lisbeth, 
nevertheless, has a purpose. Margaret is made to feel her 
own situation, and the disgrace awaiting her, through the 
expressions applied to the unfortunate Barbara, and the 
reader’s sympathy is secured, with his first knowledge of her 
fall. I have therefore translated the scene without change, 
on the same principle which the Germans have adopted in 
translating Shakespeare. 


116. And we'll scatter chaff before her door. 
The word Adckerling signifies either chaff or chopped straw 
The old German custom, which is still observed in some 
parts of the country, allowed the bridal wreath only to chaste 





NOTES. 297 


maidens. If one of sullied reputation ventured to assume it, 
the wreath was torn from her head, and sometimes replaced 
with one of straw, while on the eve of the marriage chaff 
or chopped straw was scattered before her door. A widow 
who marries again is allowed to wear a wreath, but not the 
myrtle of the maiden bride. 

Church-penance for unchastity was also formerly common 
im England. In Germany the guilty person was obliged to 
kneel before the altar, clad in a “sinner’s shift,” while the 
clergyman severely rated her conduct, and read her petition 
for pardon. 


117. DONJON. 


The word Zwinger, which Goethe uses, corresponds to 
our “stronghold ” or ‘‘ donjon keep,” but is also sometimes 
applied to the open angular space between the wall of a 
town and one of the fortified gates. Goethe seems to use 
the word in the latter sense. The shrine of a saint was 
frequently placed in the re-entering angle, between which 
and the city-wall there would be a partly enclosed space. 
Mephistopheles represents Margaret as watching the clouds 
“over the old city-wall,” from her window, whence her 
home must have been in the street nearest to it, and the 
shrine of the Mater Dolorosa, being close at hand, would be- 
come her accustomed place of prayer. I have followed all 
other translators in using the word donjon, simply because 
we have no English word to describe the locality. 

The opening of Margaret’s prayer suggests the well-known 
Latin hymn of Jacoponus, written towards the close of the 
thirteenth century :— 


Stabat mater dolorosa 
Juxta crucem lacrimosa, 
Dum pendebat filius ; 
Cujus animam gementem, 
Contristatum et dolentem, 
Pertransivit gladius, 


Tf the revery at the spinning-wheel be a sigh of longing, 
this is a cry for help, equally wonderful in words and metre ; 
1 *# 





2098 FAUST. 


yet with a character equally elusive when we atterapt to 
reproduce it in another language. 


118. VALENTINE, a soldier, Marguret's brother. 


This scene appears to have been written some time during 
the year 1800, and probably after the completion of the Wal 
purgis-Night (Scene XXI.). Goethe had been occupied, at 
intervals, for some time previous, with the Aedena (Part Sec- 
ond, Act III.), which he finally laid aside, with the determi- 
nation to fill the gaps yet remaining in the First Part, before 
proceeding further. In the Royal Library at Berlin, there is 
an autograph manuscript of the scene, dated ‘ 1800.” 

Niintzer insists that the unity of the plot is disturbed by 
the introduction of Valentine, whose death, he asserts, has 
no intimate connection with Margaret’s fall. Goethe’s de- 
sign, nevertheless, may be easily conjectured, and the poets, 
we imagine, will take sides with him against the critic. The 
guilt of blood, which the action of Mephistopheles brings 
upon Faust, obliges the latter to fly from the town, and he is 
thus prevented from learning the shame and misery which 
swiftly come upon Margaret. Without such a motive, his 
flight would be a heartless desertion, at variance with the 
expressions of his love in the preceding and following scenes. 
Moreover, while the consequences of Margaret's fault suc- 
ceed each other with terrible, cumulative retribution, her 
right to pity and sympathy increases with them. We could 
ill spare this picture of Valentine, the brave soldier, the hon- 
est man, whose death is another necessary link in the fatal 
chain of Margaret's destiny. 


119. Saw splendid lion-dollars in’t. 

The remark of Faust refers, apparently, to some buried 
treasure which Mephistopheles has promised to raise for 
him. ‘Lion-dollars” are of Dutch coinage, and so called 
both from the city of Louvain (in German, Lowen —lion), in 
Brabant, where they were first struck, and from the figure 
of a lion on the obverse. They are also sometimes named 
“ Brabanters.” A few specimens are still occasionally seen 








NOTES. 299 


in Germany: their value is about eighty-five cents. Hay. 
ward is mistaken in saying that the lion-dollar is a Bohe- 
mian coin. 

“It was a generally disseminated belief that the interior 
of the earth contains treasures, which must be raised by 
whoever would possess them. It was supposed that the 
treasure moved of itself, slowly seeking to approach the sur- 
face. At stated times, frequently once in seven years, but 
sometimes only once in a hundred, the treasure is above, 
and waits to be lifted. If this is not accomplished, because 
the necessary conditions are not fulfilled, it sinks back again. 
It is generally contained in a kettle, and its approach to the 
surface is indicated by a flame hovering over the spot.” — 
Dinter. 

120. What dost thou heref 

The song of Mephistopheles is directly suggested, as 
Goethe admitted (vide Note 8), by the song of Ophelia, in 
Hamlet (Act IV., Scene V.):— 

“Good morrow, ’t is Saint Valentine’s day, 
All in the morning betime, 


And I a maid at your window, 
To be your Valentine. 


“* Then up he rose, and don’d his clothes, 
And dupped the chamber door ; 
Let in the maid, that out a maid 
Never departed more.” 


In Schlegel’s translation, St. Charity (in the third verse) 
is rendered St. Kathrin, whence Goethe probably took the 
name “ Kathrina dear.” It also seems probable that the 
name given to Margaret’s brother, Valentine, was suggested 
by “your Valentine” in Ophelia’s song ; and all the more 
so, since its Latin original, valens, is specially appropriate to 
a soldier. 

121. Rat-catching piper, thou! 


Browning’s poem of “The Pied Piper of Hamelin” is so 
well known that I need not give the old German legend to 
which Valentine’s exciamation refers. Goethe’s song, Der 











300 FAUST. 


Rattenfanger, expresses still more clearly the meaning which 
he attaches to the phrase. The man who charms innocent 
maidens by his seductive arts, even as the piper by the notes 
of his magical pipe charmed the rats of Hamelin, is a rat- 
catcher. In “Romeo and Juliet” (Act III. Scene I.) Mer- 
cutio says :— 

“Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?” 


122. Out with your spit, without delay ! 

Flederwisch, the slang German word for ‘“‘sword,” which 
Mephistopheles uses, means a goose’s wing, such as is used 
by economical housewives for dusting furniture. Hayward 
translates ‘“toasting-iron,” borrowing the expression from 
Shakespeare; Mr. Brooks says “whisk,” and Mr. Martin 
“duster,” — both of which are literal ; yet, in this instance, [ 
prefer to use a cant word which is equivalent to the original. 


123. CATHEDRAL. 


This is the closing scene of “ Faust: a Fragment,” and 
the last but one in which Margaret appears. She returns to 
the Cathedral, before which Faust first met her in the street, 
as she was coming from confession, where, as even Mephis- 
topheles admits : — 

“ So innocent is she, indeed, 
That to confess she had no need.”’ 

Without this contrast, the terrible power of the scene 
must be felt by every reader. The short, unrhymed lines 
express both the hoarse whispered threats of the Evil Spirit, 
and the panting agony of the sinner. The line: ‘‘ Upor 
thy threshold whose the blood ? ” fails in the edition of 1790. 
and was added on account of the foregoing scene, which was 
afterwards written. The confusion of Margaret’s thoughts, 
presaging her later insanity, is indicated in the first words 
3he utters. 


124. Dyes tra, dies illa. 


Goethe has elsewhere acknowledged the powerful impres- 
sion which this old Latin chant made upon himself. Some 





NOTES. 301 


have attributed its arthorship to Gregory the Great, and 
others to Bernhard of Clairvaux; but the scholars seem now 
to be generally agreed that it is not of later origin than the 
thirteenth century, and that Thomas of Celano was proba- 
bly its author. It was accepted by the Roman Church, as 
one of the seguentia of the requiem, before the year 1385. 
The original text is engraved upon a marble tablet in the 
church of St. Francesco in Mantua. The present form of 
the chant is supposed to have been given by Felix Hammerlin 
(in the early part of the fifteenth century), who omitted the 
former opening stanzas, and added some others at the close. 
In this form it has appeared in the Catholic missals, since 
the Council of Trent. The chant has been translated up- 
wards of seventy times into German, and fifteen times into 
English. One of the closest versions, of the few in which 
the feminine rhymes are retained, is that of Gen. John A. 
Dix, who thus renders the first stanza : — 
** Day of wrath, without a morrow ! 


Earth shall end in flame and sorrow, 
As from saint and seer we borrow.” 


125. Fudex ergo cum sedebit. 


We must suppose that the singing of the chant continues, 
ahd that there is a pause after the close of the first verse, be- 
fore the Evil Spirit again speaks. His second address cer- 
tainly points to the third verse, of which it is a paraphrase: — 

Tuba mirum spargens sonsim 
Per sepuichra regionum 
Coget omnes ante thronum. 

Goethe passes over this and the two following verses until 
the sixth, which is now quoted. Margaret is overpowered by 
the declaration contained in it that all things hidden shall be 
brought to light, and no guilt shall remain unpunished. 


126. Quid sum miser tunc dicturus ? 


This, the seventh verse, is most appropriately chosen for 
the climax of the effect produced on Margaret by the grand 
and terrible chant. Ifthe just shall be saved with difficulty, 





302 FAUST. 


what plea shall be uttered by this miserable sinner? In the 
original, also, the threat of wrath and retribution culminates 
here, the remaining ten verses having the character of peni- 
tence and supplication. Diintzer censures Goethe for re- 
peating the line: “ Qusd sum miser tunc dicturus?" for the 
reason that it is not repeated in the Catholic service, and in- 
sists that he ought to have given the first line of the follow- 
ing verse — “‘ Rex tremenda mayestats,” instead of it. But 
the poet, who prefers dramatic truth to the correctness of a 
minute detail which is of no importance, justifies himself. 


127. Neighbor! your cordial! 

The original word, F/aschchen, means simply a phial; but 
it is evidently the neighbor's pocket-flagon of smelling-salts 
for which Margaret asks. In most of the English versions 
we find “smelling-bottle,” but Mr. W. Taylor, of Norwich, 
in his “ Historic Survey of German Poetry ” (London, 1830), 
says “‘ Your dram-bottle! ” 


128. WaALPURGIS-NIGHT. 


This scene was written in 1800, probably twenty-five years 
after its first conception. It is announced in the Witches’ 
Kitchen (Scene VI.), in the words of Mephistopheles: ‘“‘ Thy 
wish be on Walpurgis-Night expressed.” Goethe was ac- 
customed to carry his poetical designs about with him for a 
long time, from a sense of possession and private enjoyment 
which he lost after they had been written. Perhaps, also, 
his feeling for the repose and symmetry of classic art, which 
was awakened during his Italian journey, and which mani- 
fests itself in /phigenia in Tauris, Tasso, and even in Her- 
mann and Dorothea, rendered it more difficult for him to 
resume a theme so purely Gothic. He once said to Ecker- 
mann: “I employed myself but once with the devil and 
witch material; I was then glad to have consumed my 
Northern inheritance, and turned again to the banquets of 
the Greeks.” The original manuscript of the Walpurgis- 
Night is in the Royal Library of Berlin: it is dated Novem 
ber 5, 1800. 





NOTES. 303 


The title and character of the Witches’ Sabbath on the 
summit of the Brocken, on the night between April 30 and 
May 1, spring equally from the old and the new religion. 
Walpurgis (or Walpurga, which is the most usual form of 
the name) was the sister of Saints Willibald and Wunnibald, 
and emigrated with them from England to Germany, as fol- 
lowers of St. Boniface, in the eighth century. She died as 
abbess of a convent at Heidenheim, in Franconia, and after 
the extirpation of the old Teutonic faith became one of the 
most popular saints, not only in Germany, but also in Hol- 
land and England. The first of May, which was given to 
her in the calendar, was the ancient festival-day of the Dru- 
ids, when they made sacrifices upon their sacred mountains, 
and kindled their May-fires. Inasmuch as their gods be- 
came devils to their Christian descendants, the superstition 
of a conclave of wizards, witches, and fiends on the Brocken 
—or Blocksberg— naturally arose, and the name of the 
pious Walpurgis thus became irrevocably attached to the 
diabolical anniversary. The superstition probably grew 
from the circumstance that the Druidic rites were celebrated 
by night, and secretly, as their followers became few. Goethe 
describes such a scene in his Cantata of ‘The First Wal- 
purgis-Night ” (written in 1799), wherein his Druid sentinel, 
on the lookout for suppressive Christians, sings : — 


*¢ Mit dem Teufel, den sie fabeln, 
Wollen wir sie selbst erschrecken.” 


(With the Devil, whom they fable, 
They themselves shal] now be frightened.] 


Mr. Lewes is mistaken when he says: “ The scene on the 
Blocksberg is part of the old Legend, and is to be found in 
many versions of the puppet play.” There is no trace of it 
in any of the forms of the legend or play which I have exam- 
ined. The carnival of the witches on the Blocksberg is a 
much older tradition than that of Faust, and the two were 
never united in the popular stories, Johann Friedrich 
Léwen, a native of Clausthal, in the Hartz, published in 
1756 a comical epic, entitled “‘The Walpurgis-Night,” 


304 FAUST. 


wherein, apparently for the first time in literature, Faust 
appears on the Blocksberg. I quote the following lines as 
a specimen :— 


“‘ At Beelzebub’s left hand there Doctor Faust was sitting ; 
He filled his glass and drank most bravely, as was fitting, 
And when the nectar made their spirits warm and strong, 
The spectres cried ‘hurrah!’ Faust sang a drinking-song.”’ 


Goethe was no doubt acquainted with this poem ; but the 
Brocken itself, which can be seen in clear weather from the 
Ettersberg near Weimar, or the Kiickelhahn at Ilmenau, al- 
ways possessed a special attraction for him. In December, 
1777, he first ascended the mountain, and thereafter wrote 
his celebrated poem, ‘“‘ Hartz-Journey in Winter.” Before 
leaving for Italy, he again twice made the ascent, both 
through the region of Schierke and Elend, and on the north- 
ern side, up the valley of the Ilse. 

The Hartz Mountains are an isolated group, lying be- 
tween the Elbe and Weser rivers, and their central and 
highest peak, the Brocken, has an elevation of three thou- 
sand eight hundred feet above the sea. It is a dark, wild 
region, with forests of fir and birch on the lower heights, 
traversed by foaming streams, one of which, the Bode, is 
shut in by perpendicular walls of trap rock, severa] hundred 
feet in height. On the loftier ridges huge masses of granite 
interrupt, and sometimes overtop, the forests. Climbing the 
Brocken in 1845, I passed the Walpurgis-Night in the high- 
est inhabited house below the summit, which I reached the 
next morning after wandering upwards for three hours 
through a terrible storm. The descent in the afternoon, 
through Schierke and Elend, under drifting masses of black 
cloud and a driving scud of hail, snow, and rain, suggested, 
at every step, the description of the scenery in Faust. 
Schierke, the highest village in the Hartz, is a collection of 
rude, weather-beaten wooden houses, surrounded by rocks 
of the most fantastic shapes. Elend is two or three miles 
distant, and much lower. The most spirited and picturesque 
description of the Faust-scenery of the Hartz has been 





NOTES. 305 


given by Heine, in his Retsedsider — “ Pictures of Travel,” 
which have been translated by Mr. Charles G. Leland. 

A fragment of two lines in the Paralipomena was probably 
intended for the opening of this scene : — 


Faust. 


The further northward one may go, 
The plentier soot and witches grow. 


129. The moon's lome disk, with its belated glow. 

“The field of love, hate, hope, despair, and whatever other 
names may be given to the conditions and passions of the 
soul, is the poet’s natural inheritance, and he may use it 
successfully. But he has no inherited instinct of how a 
court of justice — for instance — is held, or how a parliament 
or an imperial coronation is conducted ; and in order not to 
violate truth the poet must make such subjects his own 
through observation or acceptance from others. Thus, in 
Faust, I was easily able to possess, by instinctive perception, 
the gloomy mood of weariness of life in the hero, as well as 
Margaret’s sentiment of love ; but, to say, for example : — 

* How sadly rises, incomplete and reddy, 
The moon’s lone disk, with its belated glow,’ — 

/ 
some previous observation of nature was necessary.” — 
Goethe to Eckermann, 1824. 

The time being near midnight, the moon, then rising, 
would be approaching her last quarter. 

I cannot give a better illustration of the efforts made bv a 
certain class of German critics to attach a symbolical mean- 
ing to every part of Faust, than the assertion of Leutbecher, 
that the two lines : — 

** The spring-time stirs within the fragrant 5irches, 
And even the fir-tree (ich@e) feels it now,” 
indicate the brrching which Fichte gave to Nicolai, in his 
paper entitled : ‘“‘ Friedrich Nicolai, his Singular Opinions,” 
&c.! Unfortunately for Leutbecher, this paper was pub 
fished a year after Goethe wrote the Walpurgis-Night. 
T 


306 FAUST: 


130. Hear them snoring, hear them bowing ! 

Some of the huge, rocky “snouts,” near the village of 
Schierke, have long been called Dse Schnarcher, The Snor- 
ers. Near one of these rocks the magnet shows a great 
variation, whence the people of the neighborhood claim that 
it is the central-point of the world. Mephistopheles says, in 
the Classical Walpurgis-Night (Second Part of Fass?) : — 

The Snorers snarl at Elend, snorting peers ! 
And all is finished for a thousand years- 

Shelley translates the couplet with great spirit : — 

) “The giant-snouted crags, ho! ho! 

How they snort and how they blow !” 

His version of the Walpurgis-Night, although not very 
faithful, and containing frequent lines of his own interpola- 
tion, nevertheless admirably reproduces the hurrying move- 
ment and the weird atmosphere of the original. This is 
the more remarkable since he disregards, for the most part, 
the German metres. 


138. How raves the tempest through the air [ 


The word which I have translated “tempest,” is Wseds- 
brant (wind’s-bride) in the original. It is the word employed 
by Luther, in his translation of the Bible, for the italicized 
words in the following verse from Acts (xxvii. 14): “ But 
not long after there arose against it a fempestuous wind, 
called Euroclydon.” A sudden and violent storm is still 
called Windsbraut by the common people, in some parts of 
Germany. 


132. The witches ride to the Brocken’s top. 

The same general explanation which has been applied to 
the Witches’ Kitchen (vide Note 83) is also valid here. In 
the separate voices and choruses which follow, a meaning is 
constantly suggested, because each is arbitrarily attached to 
a basis of satire or irony, without any necessary consistency 
between them. Most of the German commentators suppose 
that the crowding and pushing of the “‘ boisterous guests” 





NOTES. 307 


towards the summit of the Blocksberg is symbolical of the 
Storm and Stress period of German Literature; but the 
argument could not be made clear to the English reader, 
without giving a comprehensive sketch of that period. I 
shall, therefore, only mention those references concerning 
which the critics are generally agreed. 

Sir Urian is a name which was formerly ased to designate 
an unknown person, or one whose name, even if known, it 
was not thought proper to mention. In this sense it was 
sometimes applied to the Devil. In the Parseval of Wollf- 
ram von Eschenbach, the unprincipled Prince of Punturtois 
is called Urian. 

Hayward says of the omitted words in this verse: “In 
Aristophanic language—the witch repdéra:, the he-goat 
xwaBpé.” 


133. Alone, eld Baubo’s coming now. 

Baubo, in the Grecian myths, was the old nurse of Deme- 
ter, or Ceres ; who, when the latter was plunged in grief for 
the loss of Persephone, endeavored to divert her by inde- 
cent stories and actions, and thus, finally, provoked her to 
laughter. Goethe, therefore, makes her symbolize the gross, 
shameless sensuality, which, according to all popular tradi- 
tions, characterized the congregations of the witches, wiz- 
ards, and devils. 


134. Woman's a thousand steps ahead. 

Riemer relates that Goethe, in the year 1807, said to him: 
“When a woman once deviates from the right path, she 
then walks blindly and regardless of consequences towards 
evil; and a man who walks the evil way cannot begin to 
keep pace with her, for he always retains a sort of con- 
science, while she allows nature to work unchecked.” 


135. Vetwe'vre dernally sterile still. 
“ That is, they know all the rules by which to avoid faults, 
but beyond this negative talent their powers do not reach, 
and the very care with which they wash and cleanse, hinders 





308 FAUST. 


their productivenese. ‘To be free from faults, is both the 
lowest and the highest degree ; for it springs from either 
impotence or greatness.’ ”” — Hartung. 

“It applies to the merely critical efforts of the day, which 
can never attain to a creative character.” — Deychs. 

“‘ These always washing, even bright and clean wizards, are 
without doubt the zsthetic art-critics, to whom nothing is 
ever right, but who themselves are unable to produce the 
slightest thing.” — Dsintszer. 

“The Blocksberg is the congregation of the evil ones, 
the collection of the rabble who perversely follow mistaken 
views of knowledge, will and power.” — Rosenkranz. 


136. Drissle, whistling through the dark. 

Shelley gives the following translation of this verse: — 

“ The wind is still, the stars are fled, 
The melancholy moon is dead ; 
The magic notes, like spark on spark, 
Drizzle, whistling through the dark.” 

The Jast couplet here so perfectly retains the character ot 
Im Sausen sprikt that I do not see how it could be other- 
wise rendered without loss; and I therefore prefer to borrow 
from Shelley rather than offer a less satisfactory translation. 


137. 1’m climbing now three hundred years. 


“ This can only mean Science (more than three hundred 
years had elapsed since the revival of the sciences), which 
cannot properly advance, because it is hindered by pedantry, 
by the restriction of the schools (the rocky cleft).” — 
Dintser. 

“It means the cities and provinces of Germany, whereof 
there were many at that time, which remained behind the 
general development of the age.” — Deycks. 

The “ Half-Witch,” who follows below, after the double 
chorus, is generally accepted as indicating those half-talents 
which, with all their ambition, never rise above mediocrity, 
and are therefore bitterly jealous of the more gifted minds 
which easily distance them in the race. 





NOTES. 309 


138. Make room! Squire Voland comes! 


“In the poets of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries we 
frequently meet with the word Védanét as a designation of 
the Devil. In Berthold’s Diary we find the Evil One once 
named as Sgvive Volland—in the play of Frau Jutta as the 
Kuil Volland. The word means either ‘seducer’ or ‘the 
Wicked One.’” — Diintser. 


139. MEPHISTOPHELES (who all at once appears very old). 


Whether the four characters who have just been intro- 
duced are so many individual satires (Neycks, for instance, 
asserts that the Author represents the Romantic school, 
headed by Tieck and the Schlegels), is a point concerning 
which the critics are not agreed But that the episode is a 
general satire on the conventional, and therefore reactionary, 
element in politics and literature is very evident. The words 
of Mephistopheles and his assumption of age must be ac- 
cepted as a burlesque imitation of the tone of the four speak- 
ers: he simply takes up the strain and exaggerates it to the 
point of absurdity. One of the German commentators, nev- 
ertheless, considers that Mephistopheles gravely expresses 
his own views. His explanation is: ‘“ And because the con- 
tradictions of life and thought have reached their highest 
pitch, but at the same time have found their end and solu- 
tion, does Mephistopheles convince himself that he has 
ascended the Blocksberg for the Jast time.” 

The remaining fragments (Paralipomena) which belong to 
the Walpurgis-Night may properly be given here: — 


MEpnisTOPHELES, 
Though but a bagpipe, give us music! Haste! 
We have, like many noble fellows, 
Much appetite and little taste. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
The piper famous 
Of Hamelin, also mine old friend, 
The dear rat-catcher who can tame us, 
How goes — 


310 FAUST. 


Tue Rat-caTcHer oF HAMELIN. 


I’m very well indeed, I thank you: 

I am a hale and well-fed man, 

Of twelve Philanthropines the patron, 
And therewithal [a char/atan). 


The Rat-catcher, here, is certainly Basedow, one of Goethe’s 
early friends. He was a native of Hamburg, born in 1723, 
and was noted as a teacher, even before his adoption and 
advocacy of Rousseau’s system of education gave him a 
wider and more important reputation. In 1774 he estab- 
lished a model school, under the name of The PAslanthropin, 
at Dessau. After four years, he left the place, and until his 
death in 1790 was engaged in trying to establish similar in- 
stitutions in other cities. 

The word in brackets is Hartung’s suggestion for the 
completion of the line. Diintzer thinks it should be Gro- 
bian — “ boor.” 


140. No dagger’s here, that set not blood to flowing. 
Some commentators suppose that the “‘ Huckster- Witch” 
(literally, a seller of all kinds of old rubbish) was intended 
for the famous Nuremburg antiquarian, Von Murr; others 
that the eccentric Hofrath Beireis, who had a remarkable 
collection of curiosities at Helmstadt, was the original. 
This is not a matter of much importance: the English 
reader will be more interested in the resemblance between 
the catalogue of the witch’s wares, and that given by Burns 
in “Tam O’Shanter.” Goethe was probably acquainted 
with the poems of Burns at the time the Walpurgis-Night 
was written, ten years after the publication of ‘Tam O’Shan- 
ter.” In a conversation with Soret, in 1827, he spoke with 
great admiration of the Scottish poet, and gave evidence of 
an intimate knowledge of his songs. For the sake of conr 
parison, I quote the passage from ‘“‘ Tam O’Shanter” : — 
** Coffins stood round like open presses, 

That shaw‘d the dead in their last dresses ; 

And by some devilish cantrip slight, 

Each in his cauld hand held a light, — 





NOTES. 318 


By which heroic Tam was able 

To note upon the haly table, 

A murderer’s banes in gibbit airns; 
Twa span-lang, wee, unchristen’d bairns; 
A thief, new cutted frae a rape, 

Wi’ his last gasp his gab did gape; 
Five tomahawks wi’ bluid red-rusted ; 
Five scymitars, wi’ murder crusted ; 

A garter, which a babe had strangled ; 
A knife, a father’s throat had mangled, 
Whom his ain son o’ life bereft, 

The gray hairs yet stack to the heft.” 


Hayward is incorrect in stating that Goethe’s poem of 
“The Dance of Death” clearly preceded ‘Tam O’Shanter.” 
The correspondence with Knebel shows that the former 
poem was written in October, 1813. Its character, more- 
over, is quite distinct and original: not a line in it suggests 
either Burns or the Walpurgis- Night. 


141. Adam's first wife is she. 


Burton, in his ‘‘ Anatomy of Melancholy,” says: “The 
Talmudists say that Adam had a wife called Lilis before he 
married Eve, and of her he begat nothing but devils. 

The name, from the Hebrew root Zé/, darkness, signifies 
the Nocturnal. The word occurs in Isaiah (xxxiv. 14); in 
the Vulgate it is translated Zama, in Luther’s Bible Kodold, 
and in our English version, screech-ow/l. According to the 
Rabbinical writings, Lilith was created at the same time with 
Adam, in such a manner that he and she were joined to- 
gether by the back, as it is written, ‘‘male and female cre- 
ated He them, and called their name Adam.” In this condi- 
tion they did not agree at all, but quarrelled and tore each 
other continually. Then the Lord repented that He had 
made them so, and separated them into two independent 
bodies; but even thus they would not live in peace, and 
when Lilith devoted herself to witchcraft and courted the 
society of Devils, Adam left her altogether. A new wife, 
Eve, was afterwards created, to compensate him for his do 
westic misfortune. 


312 FAUST. 


Lilith is described as having beautiful hair, in the meshes 
of which lurk a multitude of evil spirits. She has such 
power over infants — for eight days after birth for boys, and 
twenty days for girls — that she is able to cause their death. 
It was therefore the custom to hang an amulet, inscribed 
with the names of the angels Senoi, Sansenoi, and Sanman- 
geloph, around the child’s neck at birth; and from the 
Latin exorcism Lilla abi! sung by the mother, some have 
derived our word ZLud/aéy, although it has also a more ob- 
vious derivation. Lilith was equally a seductress of young 
men, using her golden hair as a lure to captivate them; but 
the youth who loved her always died, and after his death a 
single hair from her head was found twisted around his 
heart. Mr. Dante Gabriel Rossetti has embodied this tra- 
dition in a fine sonnet. 


142. A lovely dream once came to me. 


Byron, who read Shelley’s translation of the Walpurgis- 
Night in manuscript, seems to have remembered the dance 
of Faust and the young witch, in writing the sixth canto of 
“* Don Juan.” 

In the two verses given to Mephistopheles and the old 
witch, the omitted words are thus omitted in the original. 
The manuscript in the Royal Library at Berlin contains the 
completed lines as written by Goethe. They are neither 
better nor worse than many passages in Shakespeare, having 
the coarseness, without the wit, of Rabelais; hence the 
reader gains rather than loses by the omission. 


143. PROKTOPHANTASMIST. 


In Goethe’s original manuscript and in the first edition of 
Fuust this name is given as “ Broktophantasmist,” as in 
Shelley’s English and Stapfer’s French version. The mis- 
take was therefore Goethe’s and not theirs, as later trans- 
lators have charged. The word (from mrpwxrés, the buttocks) 
points so directly to Friedrich Nicolai, the Berlin author 
and publisher, that there is no difficulty in interpreting 
Goethe’s satire. 


NOTES. 313 


Nicolai, the son of a bookseller, was born in Berlin in 
1733, and succeeded to his father’s business at the age of 
twenty-five, after having already commenced his career as 
an author. He was the literary associate of Lessing and 
Moses Mendelssohn, in the ‘“ Letters concerning Recent 
German Literature” and the “ Universal German Library,” 
published between 1759 and 1792. He shared the hostility 
of the former to the romantic school, especially in its “‘ Storm 
and Stress” period, and soon after the appearance of 
Goethe’s “‘ Sorrows of Werther ” published a malicious and 
rather stupid parody entitled ‘The Joys of Werther.” After 
the death of his two great friends he seems to have con- 
sidered himself their literary successor, and his pretensions 
to be recognized as a critical authority were so arrogantly 
and impudently displayed, that he soon brought upon him- 
self the enmity, not of Goethe alone, but also of Herder, 
Schiller, Kant, Fichte, and many other distinguished men. 
His “ Account of a Journey through Germany and Switzer- 
land,” (1781) in twelve volumes, gives, perhaps, the com- 
pletest expression of his cold, restricted, yet dictatorial 
nature. He has been called the Lrs-Philister — the arch- 
representative of the commonplace, conventional element in 
German literature. . 

Carlyle says : ‘To the very last Nicolai could never per- 
suade himself that there was anything in heaven or earth 
that was not dreamt of in 4:5 philosophy. He was animated 
with a fierce zeal against Jesuits; in this, most people 
thought him partly right ; but when he wrote against Kant’s 
philosophy without comprehending it, and judged of poetry 
as he judged of Brunswick mexmme,* by its utility, many 
people thought him wrong.” 

Goethe, perhaps, might have forgiven the parody of “ Wer- 
ther,” but Nicolai’s declaration that he would “ soon finish 
Goethe,” at a time when he still retained considerable influ- 
ence with the public, ‘while Géschen’s edition of Goethe's 
works was neglected or assailed, was a more serious offence. 


* A thick, sweet beer, peculiar to Brunswick. 


VOL. 1. 14 


314 FAUST. 


Goethe was provoked into using the only weapon which he 
considered fitting — ridicule, and he was assisted by Nicolai’s 
own indiscretion. The latter, whose literary materialism was 
his prominent quality,— who fought the spiritual element 
as Luther fought the Devil, — was visited, in 1791, with an 
avenging malady. He was troubled by apparitions of per- 
sons living and dead, who filled his room, and for several - 
weeks continued to haunt and torment him although he 
knew them to be phantasms. He was finally relieved by the 
application of leeches about the end of the spine, whence 
Goethe’s term Proktophantasmist, which may be delicately 
translated as ‘‘ Rump-visionary.” Nicolai published a very 
minute account of his affliction and the manner of cure, and 
thus furnished his antagonists with an effective source of rid- 
icule. He died in 1811, after having seen himself pilloried 
in the Walpurgis-Night. His services, nevertheless, must 
not be wholly measured by the place which he here occupies, 
He was evidently honest, although vain and narrow-minded. 
For several years, his authority in Berlin was fully equal to 
that of Gottsched in Leipzig, a generation before; and his 
friendship with Lessing and Mendelssohn is an evidence 
both of his culture and character. But when, not recogniz- 
_ing the later giants, he attempted to stand in their way, he 
was crushed. 


144. Weare so wise, and yet is Tegel haunted. 


Nicolai’s arrogant manner is parodied in this passage. 
Since 4e does not believe in the spirits, it is incredible that 
they will not vanish. His annoyance at their appearance in 
Tegel —a small castle, a few miles northwest of Berlin, origi- 
nally built as a hunting-lodge by the Elector of Brandenburg, 
and more recently known as the home and burial-place of 
Wilhelm and Alexander von Humboldt — is explained by 
the circumstance that in 1797 apparitions were declared to 
have visited the castle. So much excitement was created by 
the report, that an official visit to Tegel was made by the 
authorities, and attempts were instituted, but without suc- 
cess, to discover the cause of the ghostly sights and sounds. 








NOTES. 315 


In Varnhagen von Ense’s 7azebuch, published since his 
death, I find the following curious statement : — 

“ Tegel is haunted, as is known: this winter the Minister 
(Wilhelm) von Humboldt is said to have seen his double 
there. The servant entered, terrified to find him sitting 
at his writing-desk, and confessed, in his confusion, that he 
had just left him lying in bed. The Minister followed the 
servant into his bedchamber, also saw himself lying in bed, 
observed the thing for a while, did not approach nearer, 
however, but went quietly away again. After half an hour 
the apparition had disappeared.” 


145. Yet something from a tour I always save. 


This is an allusion to Nicolai’s interminable narrative of 
his journey through Germany and Switzerland. The parody 
of his manner is continued in his repetition of the same idea, 
as in one of the Xensen which Goethe and Schiller wrote in 
partnership in 1796: — 

“ What he thinks of his age he says ; he gives his opinion, 
Says it again aloud, says he has said it, and goes.” 

The allusion of Mephistopheles to the leeches needs no 

further explanation. 


146. A red mouse from her mouth. 


Goethe here refers to an old superstition concerning one 
of the many forms of diabolical possession. Perhaps he also 
remembered the following story, quoted by Hayward from 
the Deutsche Sagen : — 

“ The following incident occurred at a nobleman’s seat, in 
Thiiringia, about the beginning of the seventeenth century. 
The servants were paring fruit in the room, when a girl, be- 
coming sleepy, left the others and laid herself down on a 
bench, at a little distance from the others. After she had 
Jain still a short time a little red mouse crept out of her 
mouth, which was open. Most of the people saw it and 
showed it to one another. The mouse ran hastily to the 
open window, crept through, and remained a short space 


316 FAUST. 


without. A forward waiting-maid, whose curiosity was ex: 
cited by what she saw, in spite of the remonstrances of the 
rest went up to the inanimate maiden, shook her, moved her 
to another place a little further off, and then left her. 
Shortly afterwards the mouse returned, ran to the former 
familiar spot where it had crept out of the maiden’s mouth, 
ran up and down as if it could not find its way, and was at a 
loss what to do, and then disappeared. The maiden, how- 
ever, was dead and remained dead. The forward waiting- 
maid repented of what she had done, but in vain. In the 
same establishment a lad had before then been often tor- 
mented by the sorceress, and could have no Paes ; this 
ceased on the maiden’s death.” 

Goethe probably intended the mouse as a symbol of the 
bestial element in the Witches’ Sabbath, by which Faust is 
disgusted and repelled. The apparition of Margaret, whicb 
has also a prophetic character, is the external eidolon of his 
own love and longing. 


147. The Prater shows no livelier stir. 


The Prater (from the Latin frvatum, a meadow) is the fa- 
mous public park of Vienna, which the Emperor Joseph IL 
dedicated ‘‘To the Human Race.” It is an island enclosed 
by arms of the Danube, covered with a fine forest which is 
intersected in all directions by magnificent drives and walks. 
On holidays, Sunday afternoons, and pleasant summer éven- 
ings half the population of Vienna may be found in the Pra- 
ter, which is one of the liveliest and cheerfullest places of 
recreation in Europe. 


148. SERVIBILIS. 

This term corresponds to the “supernumerary” of our 
theatres. In 1799, Goethe wrote an article upon “ Dilettan- 
tism ” in literature, of which the words spoken by the Ser- 
vibilis are an echo. Diintzer says, referring to this passage : 
“The Dilettanti. to whom we are now introduced, love an 
immensity of material, for which reason they continually pro- 
duce new pieces, and by scores together.” 





NOTES. 317 


149. OBERON AND TITANIA’S GOLDEN WEDDING. 


This /sfermezzo had no place in the original plan of Fases#, 
and Schiller is chiefly responsible for its insertion. In the 
summer of 1796, Goethe, who had been reading the Xenia of 
Martial, wrote a few imitations in German directed against 
his literary antagonists. Schiller caught the idea at once ; 
they met and worked together, sometimes independently, 
while sometimes one furnished the conception and another 
the words. The distiches grew so fast that they proposed 
writing a thousand ; but the number published in the Musen- 
almanach of the following winter was four hundred and thir- 
teen. (They are all given in the Vachtrage su Goethe's Wer- 
ken, by Eduard Boas: Berlin, 1859.) The effect was like 
disturbing a hornet’s nest: the air of Germany was filled 
with sounds of pain, rage, and malicious Jaughter. Mr. 
Lewes says: ‘“‘ The sensation produced by Pope’s ‘ Dunciad’ 
and Byron’s ‘English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,’ was 
mild compared with the sensation produced by the Xenien, 
although the wit and sarcasm of the latter is like milk and 
water compared with the vitriol of the ‘Dunciad’ and the 

English Bards.’”” Mr. Lewes, however, hardly appreciates 
the peculiar sting of the Xenien, which do not satirize the 
authors as individuals, so much as their intellectual peculi- 
arities, 

During the following summer, Goethe wrote “ Oberon and 
Titania’s Golden Wedding ”’ — not in its present form — and 
sent it to Schiller for the Musenalmanach of 1798, as a con- 
tinuation of the aggressive movement. Schiller, writing to 
him on the 2d of October, says: ‘ You will not find ‘ Obe- 
ron’s Golden Wedding’ in the collection ; I have omitted it, 
for two reasons. First, J thought it might be well to abso- 
lutely leave out of this number of the A/manach all stings, 
and assume a harmless air; and then I was not willing that 
the Golden Wedding, for the amplification of which there is 
so much material, should be limited to so few verses. It re- 
mains to us for next year, as a treasure which may be greatly 
increased.” 


318 FAUST. 


There is no reply to this in Goethe’s letters until] the 20th 
of December, when he writes to Schiller from Weimar, after 
his return from Switzerland : “‘ You have most considerately 
omitted Oberon’s Golden Wedding. In the mean time it 
has increased to double the number of verses; and I am in- 
clined to think that the best place for it would be in Fuss.” 
There were probably many changes, made by addition or 
omission, before it appeared as an /#fermezso in the edition 
of 1808. The “‘ Walpurgis-Night’s Dream” is a suggestion 
from Shakespeare. Most of the allusions may still be de- 
tected; yet something has undoubtedly been lost, through 
the transitory character of the reputations thus satirized. 

Considered in its relation to Faust, the piece can only be 
regarded as an excrescence. At the time it was added, how- 
ever, Goethe designed following it with another scene of the 
Walpurgis-Night, the outline of which is given in Note 170. 
Eckermann relates that, in like manner, Goethe inserted a 
number of aphoristic passages and one or two poems, for 
which there was no special place elsewhere, in the conclud- 
ing part of Wilhelm Meister, where their appearance was a 
puzzle to both critics and readers. 


150. Sons of Mieding, rest to-day. 


Mieding was a theatre-decorator at Weimar, and a great 
favorite of Goethe and the Ducal Court. After his death, in 
1782, Goethe celebrated him in the poem, ‘“ Mieding’s 
Death.” 


151. Puck, 


Some commentators suppose that the Herald’s announce- 
ment of the Golden Wedding refers to the final reconcilia- 
tion of the conflicting elements in German literature. In 
that case, Oberon and Titania must be accepted as repre- 
senting the Classic and Romantic Schools, or perhaps Rea- 
son and Imagination; their quarrel, in the ‘“‘ Midsummer- 
Night’s Dream,” may have suggested to Goethe their use as 
“ properties” for the representation of his satirical fancies. 

Puck appears to stand for the whimsical, perverse element 


NOTES. 319 


which frequently appears to control the tastes of the multi- 
tude, rather than for an individual. The name (from the 
same root as the Swedish forka, a boy) and the tricksy 
nature of the imp in Shakespeare, harmonize with this in- 
terpretation. 


152. ARIEL. 


Ariel is called from the “Tempest” to join his fellow- 
elves. Here he evidently represents Poetry, — the pure ele- 
ment, above and untouched by the fashions of the day. 


153- ORCHESTRA. 


Perhaps Goethe had in his memory the Frogs of Aristoph- 
anes. The Orchestra must eithez be the crowd of literary 
aspirants, who, like insects, keep up a continual piping and 
humming, which annoys the ear; or it represents the chorus 
of followers surrounding the various literary celebrities of 
the time, and repeating their several views with a shrill, 
persistent iteration. 


154. SOLo. 

Some pompous bagpipe-droner is here indicated, but no- 
body seems to know whom. Goethe invented the word 
Schnecke-schnicke-schnack to describe the long-drawn, nasal 
snarl of the instrument. 


155. SPIRIT, JUST GROWING INTO FORM. 

The name might be translated Zmbryo-Spirit. ‘ Goethe 
undoubtedly herewith designates those botching poetasters, 
who, without the slightest idea that every living poem must 
flow spontaneously from within as an organic whole, miser- 
ably tack and stitch rhymes together, and thus produce mal- 
formations which they attempt to pass off as creations of 
beauty.” — Dintser. 

The following distich from the Yensen has a certain resenr 
blance to the above : — 


“ Everything in this poem is perfect, thought and expression, 
Rhythm : but one thing it lacks: ’t is not a poesn at all.” 





320 FAUST. 


156. A LitTLe CovupLe. 


Hartung thinks the Counts Stolberg are the couple; but 
this is improbable, since they are afterwards introduced as 
the Weathercock. Diintzer asserts that the verse represents 
the union of bad music and commonplace poetry. 


157. INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER. 


This is Nicolai, in another mask. The meaning of his 
reference to Oberon is not very clear, unless the latter rep- 
resents the classic school. When he speaks the second time 
in this /#fermezso the Inquisitive Traveller describes him- 
self much more distinctly. 


158 ORTHODOX. 


Here speaks the class of bigots who persecuted Lessing, 
assailed Klopstock and Goethe, and declared Schiller's 
splendid poem, ‘The Gods of Greece,” to be “a combina- 
tion of the most outrageous idolatry and the dreariest athe- 
ism.”’ This phrase is from Count Friedrich Stolberg, who 
became one of the mouth-pieces of the sect. His attack is 
thus answered in the Xenien : — 


“« When thou the Gods of Greece blasphemed, then cast thee Apollo 
Down from Pamassus; and now goest thou to Heaven instead.” 


159. NORTHERN ARTIST. 


Some suppose this to be the Danish artist Carstens, who 
died in Rome, in 1798; others select Fernow, a writer on 
art, who spent some years in Rome with Carstens ; others 
again insist that it is Goethe himself. Inasmuch as the point 
made in the verse has become very obscure, and was prob- 
ably not originally brilliant, the reader may take his choice 
of these conjectures. 


160. WEATHERCOCK. 
Undoubtedly the Counts Stolberg. Goethe made a tour 
through Switzerland with them, in 1775, when they were 
ardent neophytes of ‘“‘Storm and Stress,” defying conven- 








NOTES. 321 


tionalities, and adoring “Nature” to such an extent that 
they attempted to bathe in public in the villages. Twenty 
years later they were narrowly orthodox, reactionary, and 
absurdly prudish,—a transformation by no means uncom- 
mon with semi-talents, and which may be studied in the 
United States as well as in Germany. Turned on one side, 
the Weathercock is enchanted with the nude witches, and 
looks upon them as lovely brides; on the other side, it ex- 
pects the earth to open and swallow them all. 

The “ Purist ” of the fourth preceding verse is said to be 
the philologist Campe, who is called in the Xenien a “‘ fear- 
ful washerwoman,” cleansing the German language with lye 
and sand. 

161. XENIES. 


The word signifies gifts, presented to a visitor. After 
their publication in the Musenalmanach, the storm which 
arose against them became so furious that they were de- 
nounced in some quarters as having been directly inspired 
by the Devil. Hence the allusion to “ Papa Satan.” 


162. HENNINGS. 


The Danish Chamberlain Friedrich von Hennings, in his 
literary journal, the “Genius of the Age,” attacked Goethe 
and Schiller in these words: “ They are faithless to their 
high calling ; they have disgraced the Muse by their viru- 
lence, their coarseness, their dulness, their personal rancor, 
their poverty of ideas and their malignant delight in injury.” 
Probably on account of this abuse he is introduced by name, 
first ; then in the following verse as “ Leader of the Muses ” 
(from the Afusaget, another journal which he conducted); 
‘and a third time as the “‘ Crdevant Genius of the Age,” — 
his journal having died a natural death in 1803. 

The first verse parodies his abuse of Goethe and Schiller ; 
the second hints that he would be more at home among 
Blocksberg witches than as a leader of the Muses; and the 
third satirizes his practice of giving a place on the German 
Parnassus to such authors as flattered him by an obsequious 
respect for his critical views. 

14% U 





$22 FAUST. 


163. CRANE. 


“Lavater was a thoroughly good man, but he was sub- 
jected to powerful illusions, and the severe and total truth 
was not his concern : he deceived himself and others... . . 
His gait was‘like that of a crane, for which reason he appears 
as the Crane on the Blocksberg.” — Goethe to Eckermann, 
1829. 

164. WORLDLING. 

Weltkind, literally ‘ world-child,” a term which Goethe 
applies to himself in his epigrammatic poem, ‘Dinner at 
Coblenz,” where he sat between Lavater and Basedow :— 

** Prophete rechts, Prophete links 
Das Weltkind in der Mitten.” 
(Prophets right, and Prophets left, 
The World-child in the middle.} 

He here speaks in his own person, satirizing Lavater and 
his followers. 

The Dancers, who follow, are the philosophers, the sound 
of whose approaching drums turns out to be only the bitterns 
booming their single monotonous note among the reeds. 


165. GooD FELLow. 


Hayward and most other English translators convert this 
name into “ Fiddler,”’ either supposing that where there is 
dancing there must be fiddling, or mistaking Fideler for 
Fiedler. This verse and the foregoing (the “ Dancing Mas- 
ter”) were first inserted in the last complete edition of 
Goethe’s works, which appeared just before his death. The 
Good Fellow is apparently introduced solely for the purpose 
of commenting on the hate and mutual pugnacity of the phil- 
osophic sects. 

The Dogmatist, who, if he is a particular individual, can- 
not easily be identified, suggests a passage in one of Goethe’s 
detters to Schiller: “ The Copenhagen clique and all the 
refined dwellers along the Baltic shore will derive from the 
Xenten a new argument for the actual and incontrovertible 
existence of the Devil; and we have therefore, after all, 
done them an important service.” 


NOTES. 323 


166. IDEALIST. 


It is generally admitted that this is Fichte, who, to borrow 
the words of a German commentator, “comprehended the 
Not-Me itself as a product of the self-determined Me, and 
not as something existing externally to the Me.” When 
Goethe heard that a company of riotous students had col- 
lected before Fichte’s house and smashed his windows in 
with stones, he remarked that Fichte might now convince 
himself, in the most disagreeable way, that it was possible 
“for a Not-Me to exist, externally to the Me.” 


167. SCEPTIC. 

This verse, like the preceding, represents a class. The 
Sceptic compares the Supernaturalists to treasure-seekers, 
who follow the appearance of flame and believe that they 
will soon grasp the reality of gold. Since Doubt (Zwez/e/) 
is the only rhyme — and, moreover, an imperfect one — for 
Devil ( 7ex/e/), in German, the Sceptic finds himself at home 
on the Blocksberg. 


168 THE ADROIT. 


Here the verses take a political turn, and the reader must 
bear in mind the general break-up of the old order of things 
in Europe, at the beginning of this century. The Adroit are 
those who shift themselves according to political changes, 
and walk on their heads or on their feet, as circumstances 
may exact. 

The following verse represents the opposite class, who 
managed to sponge their way very well under the former 
Régime, but cannot adapt themselves to the new order. 
They are the parasites of a system, and with any change 
their occupation is gone. 


169. WILL-0O’-THE-WISPS 


This and the next verse again indicate two exactly oppo- 
site classes. The former are the political farwenus who are 
thrown to the surface by a revolution, and, in spite of their 


324 FAUST. 


obscure origin, rank at once with the highest; while the 
Shooting Star represents the titles and celebrities cast down 
from their high places by the same political movement, an& 
looking for any form of help which may again set them upon 
their feet. 

In the second following verse, — the “‘ Heavy Ones,” — 
some commentators see the ignorant, brutal, revolutionary 
masses ; others the writers of the Romantic school and their 
exaggerated manner. In Goethe’s dithyrambic, “German 
Parnassus,” he thus describes the crush and onset of the 
masses of rude literary aspirants :— 


“* Ah, the bushes down are trodden ! 
Ah, the blossoms crushed and sodden 
*Neath the footsteps of the brood : 
Who shall brave their angry mood? ” 


The latter interpretation is the more probable, since Ariel, 
who is Poetry, addresses them in words appropriate to liter- 
ary, not political masses. 

When Puck speaks of himself as “ the stout one,” Goethe 
seems to have remembered the words of the Fairy in the 
“‘ Midsummer-Night’s Dream,”’ in taking leave of Puck : — 


“ Farewell, thou lob of spirits! I "ll be gone.” 


170. And all is dissipated. 

The transition from this /stermesso to the succeeding 
scene of Faust is too violent, and we cannot help wishing 
that the course of the drama had not been thus interrupted. 
Goethe, however, not only projected but partly wrote an ad- 
ditional scene, devoted exclusively to the pure diabolism of 
the medizval traditions. While we must admit that a correct 
instinct led him to withhold it, we still must feel that an inter- 
mediate scene is necessary. The gap which we recognize 
was felt by the author, whose work was produced at long in- 
tervals of time, and in fragments the character of which was 
determined by his moods of mind. But he always preferred 
an abrupt chasm to an unsatisfactory bridge. 

The projected scene is generally styled “The Brocker 





NOTES. 325 


Scene” by the German commentators, although Hartung 
takes the liberty of calling it “‘ The Court of Satan.” I trans- 
late it (with the exception of one short passage) precisely as 
it is given in the Paralipomena, with its rapid short-hand out- 
lines, its incomplete dialogues and omitted lines, and leave 
all comment to the reader : — 


THE HARTZ MOUNTAINS. 


A Hicuer RecIion. 


After the Intermezzo: Solitude, Desert, blaxts of trumpets. Light- 
ning, thunder from above. Columns of fire, stifling smoke. Rock, pro- 
jecting therefrom: ’t is Satan. Much people around: delay: means 
of pressing through: injury: cries. Chant: they stand in the inner 
circle: the heat almost insupportable. Who stands next in the circle. 
Satan’s address: presentations: investitures. Sinking of the appari- 
tion. Volcano. Disorderly dissolution, breaking and storming away. 


Summit or THe Brocxen. 


SaTAN on his Throne. A Crowd of People around. Faust and 
MEPHISTOPHELES tn the nearest circle. 


SATAN (speaking from the throne). 
The goats to the left hand, 
The bucks to the right ! 

The goats, they have scented 
The bucks with delight : 
And though in their nostrils 
The sense were increased, 
The goats would endure it, 
Nor shrink in the least. 


CHORUS. 


Fall down on your faces, 
Your Master adore | 

He teaches the people, 
With pleasure, his lore. 
To his oracles hearken « 
He ’)l show you the clews 
To the endless existence 
That Nature renews | 


FAUST. 


SATAN (turning to the right). 
Two things are before you, 
Both splendid and grand : 
The glittering gold 
The one is purveyor, 

The other devours ; 
Then blest, who possesses 
Together their powers | 


A VOICE. 


What says then the Master? 
Remote from his station, 

I catch not so clearly 

The precious oration. 

I cannot detect them, 

The beautiful clews, 

Nor see the existence 

That Nature renews ! 


SATAN (turning to the left). 
Two things are before you 
Of brilliancy clear : 

The glittering gold 
Then learn, all ye women, 
Through gold to enjoy 


CHORUS. 


Fall down on your faces, 
Adoringly stirred ! 

O blest, who is nearest 
And heareth the word ! 


A VOICE. 


I stand at a distance 

And listen so steady, 

Yet many a word has 
Escaped me already. 
Who'll clearly repeat them? 
Who ’ll show me the clews 
To the endless existence 
That Nature renews? 





NOTES. 327 


MEPHISTOPHELES (to a young witch). 
Why weep’st thou, lovely little dear? 
*T is not the place to shed a tear. 
Hast thou been in the crowd too rudely pushed and penned? 


MAIDEN. 


Ah, no! The Master speaks so singular 


And all are so delighted, it appears ; 
Perhaps the great ones, only, comprehend? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


But, sweetheart, come now, dry thy tears! 
So that the Devil’s meaning reach thine ears, 


SATAN. 
Ye young ones, before us 
To stand ye are bidden ; 
I see that on broomsticks 
Ve hither have ridden : 


SEPARATE AUDIENCES. 


x. 
Let me attain to that — 
The power whereto thou knowest me aspirant, 
Then gratefully, though born a Democrat, 
Ill kiss thy hoofs no less, O Tyrant! 


MASTER OF CEREMONIES. 


The hoofs ! but once may that befall : 
Thou must make up thy mind to go still further. 


x. 
What, then, requires the ritual? 


SATAN. 
Vassal, thou tested art ! 
Now o’er a million souls thy freehold reaches ; 
He who can praise like thee the Devil’s —— —a_<- 
Shall never lack in sycophantic speeches. 


328 FAUST. 


ANOTHER PART OF THE BROCKEN. 


Lowgr Racion. 


Vision of Judgment. Crowd. They climb a tree. Remarks of the 
people. On buming soil. The Idol naked. The hands bound on the 
back. 


CHANT. 


Where hot and fresh fiows human blood, 
For magic spells the reek is good. 

The brotherhood, both black and gray, 
Wins power for works that shun the day. 
What hints of blood, we most require ; 
What spills it, answers our desire. 
Round fire and blood a measure tread ! 
For now in fire shall blood be shed. 


The wench she points, we know the sign ; 
The toper drinks, ’tis blood, not wine. 
The look, the drink, end what 's begun ; 
The dagger’s bare, the deed is done. 
Flows ne'er alone a fount of blood, 

But other streamlets join the flood : 
From place to place they gush and glide, 
And gather more to swell the tide. 


The head falls off: the blood leaps and extinguishes the fire. Night. 
Tumult. Chattering of Devils’ changelings. Thereby Faust Jearns. 





Some of the German commentators suppose that the 
“black and gray brotherhood” of this concluding chant are 
the Franciscan and Dominican monastic orders, and there- 
fore that the fragment refers directly to the Inquisition. 
Diintzer asserts that the heading “Another Part of the 
Brocken”’ indicates that this is a separate outline for the 
whole scene, intended as a substitute for the foregoing frag- 
ments, not as a continuation of them. 


171. DREARY Day. 


Riemer states that Goethe dictated the whole of this scene 
to him, as it stands, without a pause This must have oc- 
curred between 1803, when he first entered Goethe's service, 





NOTES. 329 


and 1808, when the First Part was published. It does not 
therefore follow that the scene was then composed, as most 
of the critics seem to take for granted. The style of the 
original at once suggests the Werther period, and I cannot 
resist the impression that it was then first written, nearly in 
its present form. There are evidences in Goethe’s corre- 
spondence that more than one scene of Faust existed in prose, 
many years before the time of which Riemer speaks ; and it 
is quite possible that other plans for bridging over the gap 
between the Walpurgis-Night and the Prison Scene have 
been lost. It would be consistent with Goethe’s habits as 
an author, to return to his first conception after the failure of 
later ones, and, inasmuch as the metrical form of his poetry 
depended on temporary moods, or varieties of inspiration, 
—that is, it was never mechanically planned in advance, 
— it is not stretching conjecture too far to assume that, be- 
coming weary of so many fruitless attempts, he finally cic- 
tated the scene from memory, as originally written. 

Another proof that this or a very similar scene was in 
existence before 1790, is the surprise expressed by Wieland 
to Bottiger that the Faust “ Fragment” of that year did not 
contain the passage wherein Faust becomes so furious that 
even Mephistopheles is almost terrified at his violence. At 
this time, ten years had elapsed since Goethe read the man- 
uscript scenes before the Court circle of Weimar. 

M. Stapfer insists that this scene was given in prose “in 
order that it might not be said that any possible form of 
expression was wanting to Faust.” The whole question of 
employing metre or prose for dramatic subjects had been 
thoroughly discussed by Schiller and Goethe, and the em- 
phatic expression of the latter, “‘ Everything poetical in char- 
acter must be rhythmically treated,” is sufficient evidence 
that he was here guided by necessity rather than choice. 

The remaining passages of the Paralip~omena belonging to 
the First Part may now be appropriately given. 

It would appear from the following verse that Gcethe at 
one time intended taking Faust to Rome, as in the le- 
gend : — 


330 FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
From soot and witch away to speed 
The pennon southward now must lead ; 
Yet there, instead, the Fates compel 
With priests and scorpions to dwell. 
The next quatrain was evidently intended for the mouth 
of Faust, on his southward journey : — 


Warmer breezes, hither blow, 
On our foreheads playing ! 
Ye were wont to cheer us so 
In our youthful straying. 


Then follows the commencement of a scene, which may 
have been designed as a substitute for that which suc- 
ceeds : — 

Hicuway. 


al cross by the roadside; to the right an old castle on the hill; tn the 
distance a feasant’s hut. 


FAUST. 
What is ’t, Mephisto? Why such hurry? 
Why at the cross cast down thine eyes ? 
MEPHISTOPHELES. 
I’m well aware it is a prejudice ; 
But, never mind, I find the thing a worry. 
The last fragment contains nothing from which its desti- 
nation may be guessed : — 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Let none in earmest ask, or cavil; 
I’m of my race ashamed, of late : 
They fancy, when they say The Devil, 
They ’ve uttered something great. 


172. OPEN FIELD. 
This brief, uncanny scene seems to have been inserted as 
a transition between the different keys of those which pre- 
cede and follow. The ‘‘Ravenstone” is the old German 
word for a place of execution. Byron probably remembered 





NOTES. 33x 


the expression, from Shelley’s oral translation, when he 
wrote, in a rejected chorus of the “Deformed Trans- 


formed” : — 
“ The raven sits 


On the raven-stone.” 


173. My mother, the harlot. 


The last line of Faust’s soliloquy at the door: “ Fort! 
Dein Zagen sigert den Tod heran!” is one of those para- 
doxical sentences, the meaning of which it is more easy to 
feel than to reproduce. Zégern. like its English equivalent, 
is an intransitive verb; but Shakespeare’s example may 
justify me in using the verb fo Jinger, with an object, as 
Goethe uses sdgern. The former expression is the literal 
reproduction of the latter. 

The song which Margaret sings is a variation of one in 
the Low German dialect, in a story called the Mackandel- 
Boom (The Juniper-Tree: the English translator, mistaking 
Machandel for Mandel, renders it “almond tree”), included 
by the brothers Grimm in their well-known collection of 
popular fairy lore. I borrow Hayward’s abbreviation of the 
story :— 

“‘The wife of a rich man, whilst standing under a juniper 
tree, wishes for a little child as white as snow and as red as 
blood; and on another occasion expresses a wish to be 
buried under the juniper when dead. Soon after, a little 
boy, as white as snow and as red as blood, is born; the 
mother dies of joy at beholding it, and is buried according 
to her wish. The husband marries again, and has a daugh- 
ter. The second wife, becoming jealous of the boy, murders 
him, and serves him up at table for the unconscious father 
to eat. The father finishes the whole dish, and throws the 
bones under the table The little girl, who is made the in- 
nocent assistant in her mother’s villany, picks them up, ties 
them in a silk handkerchief, and buries them under the juni- 
per tree. The tree begins to move its branches mysteri- 
ously, and then a kind of cloud rises from it, a fire appears 
in the cloud, and out of the fire comes a beautiful bird, 
which flies about singing the following song : — 


332 FAUST. 


* Min Moder de mi slacht’t, 
Min Vader de mi att, 
Min Swester de Marleenken 
Sécht alle mine Beeniken, 
Un bindt sie in een syden Dook, 
Legts unner den Machandelboom ; 
Kywitt! Kywitt! ach watt en schén Vagel bin ich !’” 


174. My wedding-day tt was to be! 

One of the commentators asserts that this line must be 
literally accepted, —that the day dawning was actually that 
fixed upon by Faust for his marriage with Margaret! 

The details of the execution, which Margaret describes, 
belong to the past centuries. The tolling of the bell; the 
breaking of a white wand by the judge after the reading of 
the sentence of death, as a symbol that the culprit’s life is 
thus broken; the binding to the seat, and the flash of the 
executioner’s sword, are all features which accompanied the 
act. 


175. Ye angels, holy cohorts, guard me! 

Wilhelm Meister gives evidence that Goethe made a care- 
ful study of ‘“ Hamlet,” and the following lines, on the 
appearance of the Ghost in the Queen’s chamber (Act IIL 
Scene 4), may have lingered in his memory : — 


“* Save me, and hover o’er me with your wings, 
Ye heavenly guards !”’ 


176. She ts judged! 

Goethe here employs, in a different sense, a phrase from 
the puppet-play. When the end of Faust’s twenty-four 
years of enjoyment draws nigh, a voice calls from above: 
Prepara te ad mortem! Soon after, interrupted by Faust’s 
prayers and words of remorse, the exclamation follows: 
Accusatus es!—then Fudicatus es! and finally: /s eternam 
damnatus es !— whereupon Faust disappears from the eyes 
of the spectators. 

Some, forgetting that the terms of the compact have not 
yet been fulfilled, interpret the words of Mephistopheles 











NOTES. 333 


“Hither to me!” as implying that he thenceforth takes full 
possession of Faust. The voice from above announces that 
Margaret is saved, and the scene instantly closes, as if the 
mist and vapor out of which the forms arose had again rolled 
over them. Goethe so concealed his plan for the Second 
Part of Faust that we must first become familiar with it 
before we can return and trace in the First Part the threads 
which connect the two. 

The “little world” of individual passion, emotion, and 
aspiration here comes suddenly to an end; but beyond it 
still lies the “great world,” where the interests and passions 
which shape Society, Government, and the development of 
the human race are set in motion to solve the problem of 
Faust’s destiny 








APPENDIX. 


i 











APPENDIX I. 


THE FAUST-LEGEND. 


O many references have been made, in the foregoing 
Notes, to the various forms of the old Faust-legend, that 
a brief account of its origin and the changes in its character 
introduced by successive narrators is all that need now be 
added. The reader who is specially interested in the subject 
will find no difficulty in prosecuting his researches further : # 
no legend of the Middle Ages has been so assiduously un- 
earthed, dissected and expounded. 

The slow revival of science in Germany, France and Italy, 
furnished the ignorant multitude with many new names which 
passed with them for those of sorcerers, and gradually dis- 
placed the traditions of Virgilius, Merlin, and others who had 
figured in their lore for many centuries. Raymond Lully, 
Roger Bacon, Paracelsus, Cornelius Agrippa, the Abbot 
Tritheim (Trithemius), and many other sincere though con- 
fused workers, were believed by the people to be in league 
with evil spirits, and their names became nuclei, around 
which gathered all manner of floating traditions. The fif- 
teenth and sixteenth centuries, from the movements in hu- 
man thought which they brought forth, were naturally rich 
in such stories, for even the most advanced minds still re- 
tained a half-belief in occult spiritual forces. Melancthon, 
himself, is our chief evidence in relation to the person and 
character of the Faust of the legend. 


* The collection of narratives given by Scheible in his A /oster, and the 
accounts in Diintzer’s and Leutbecher’s commentaries on Faust, may 
still be easily procured. 


VOL. I I§ Vv 


338 FAUST. 


It is possible that there was another person of this name, 
ind of some local reputation, in the fifteenth century. 
George Sabellicus, a noted charlatan, of whom the Abbot 
Tritheim writes in 1509, called himself Faustus minor. The 
name (signifying fortunate, of good omen) was not unusual : 
it was the baptismal name of the younger Socinus, who taught 
his Unitarian doctrines in Poland and Transylvania, and 
whom some have very absurdly attempted to connect with 
the legend; for he was not born until 1539. The Johann 
Faust of the popular stories was undoubtedly an individual 
of that name, born towards the close of the fifteenth century, 
in the little town of Knittlingen, near Maulbronn, in Wirtem- 
berg. His parents were poor, but he was enabled by the 
bequest of a rich uncle to study medicine. He attended the 
University of Cracow (where he probably received his Doc- 
tor’s degree), studied magic, which was there taught as an 
accepted branch of knowledge, and appears to have after- 
wards travelled for many years through Europe. Mantias 
the disciple of Melancthon, quotes the latter as having said : 
‘This fellow Faust escaped from our town of Wittenberg, 
after our Duke John had given the order to have him im- 
prisoned. He also escaped from Nuremberg, under the like 
circumstances. This sorcerer Faust, an abominable beast, a 
common sewer (cloaca) of many devils, boasted that he, by 
his magic arts, had enabled the Imperial armies to win their 
victories in Italy.” It was probably the famous battle of 
Pavia (1525) of which Faust spoke, as the time of his visit to 
Wittenberg appears to have been about the year 1530. 

Another evidence of Faust is found im the /wdex Sanitatis 
of the physician, Philip Begardi, which was published at 
Worms in 1539 = He therein says: “ Since several years he 
has gone through all regions, provinces and kingdoms, made 
his name known to everybody, and is highly renowned for 
his great skill, not alone in medicine, but also in chiro- 
mancy, necromancy, physiognomy, visions in crystal, and the 
like other arts. And also not only renowned, but written 
down and known as an experienced master. Himself ad- 
mitted, nor denied that it was so, and that his name was 











APPENDIX. 339 


Faustus, and called himself philosophum philosophorum. But 
how many have complained to me that they were deceived by 
him — verily a great number ! ” 

The third witness is the theologian, Johann Gast, who in 
his Sermones Conviviales describes a dinner given by Faust at 
Basle, at which he was present. After mentioning the two 
devils who attended Faust in the form of a dog and a horse, 
he says: ‘“‘The wretch came to an end in a terrible manner ; 
for the Devil strangled him. His dead body lay constantly 
on its face on the bier, although it had been five times turned 
upwards.” Gast probably makes this last statement on the 
strength of some popular rumor. Faust seems to have grad- 
ually passed out of notice, and we have no particulars of his 
death which possess the least authenticity. Melancthon, in 
his discourses as Professor at Wittenberg, Luther in his 
“ table-talk,” and the other Protestant theologians of that 
period, almost without exception, expressed their belief ina 
personal, visible Devil, then specially active in their part of 
the world. Luther even describes the annoyances to which 
the Devil subjects him, with a candor which cannot now be 
imitated ; and the same belief naturally took grosser and more 
positive forms among the common people. The wandering 
life of Johann Faust, as physician and necromancer, must have 
made his name well known throughout Germany; his visit 
to Wittenberg and the reference to him in the three works 
already quoted, would distinguish him above others of his 
class, and every floating rumor of diabolical compact, power, 
and final punishment would thenceforth gather around his 
name as iron filings around a magnet. 

The various books of magic entitled Fazust's Hollenswang 
(Infernal Influences) were all published with false early 
dates, after Faust’s name became generally known, and are 
therefore of no value as evidence The attempt, also, to 
connect him with Fust, Guttenberg’s associate in printing, 
has no foundation whatever. 

The original form of the legend is the book published by 
Spiess, in Frankfurt, in 15387. Its title runs thus: ‘‘ History 
of Dr. Joh. Faust, the notorious sorcerer and black-artist: 


340 FAUST. 


How he bound himself to the Devil for a certain time: 
What singular adventures befell him therein, what he did 
and carried on until finally he received his well-deserved 
pay- Mostly from his own posthumous writings; for all 
presumptuous, rash and godless men, as a terrible example, 
abominable instance and well-meant warning, collected and 
put in print. James, IIII., Submit yourselves therefore to 
God: resist the Devil, and he will flee from you.” The 
book must have been instantly and widely popular, for a 
second edition was published in 1588; a Low-German ver- 
sion in Liibeck and an English ballad on the subject, the 
same year ; an English translation in 1590, two Dutch trans- 
lations in 1592, and one French in 1598 From the first of 
these Marlowe obtained the material for his tragedy of ‘‘ Dr. 
Faustus,’”’ which appears to have been first acted in London 
in 1593, the year of his death. It was published in 1604, 
and no doubt formed part of the repertory of the companies 
of English strolling-players who were accustomed to visis 
Germany. ‘ 

In the Dutch translation dates are given, apparently fos 
the purpose of making the story more credible. The year 
1491 Is mentioned as that of Faust’s birth; his first compac 
with the Devil, for seventeen years, was made on the 23d of 
October, 1514; his second, for seven years, on the 3d of 
August, 1531; and he was finally carried off by the Devil at 
midnight, on the 23d of October, 1538. The term of twentv- 
four years, which is not a mystical number, is thus obtained 
by adding the two mystical terms, 17 and 7. In the English 
translation the village of Kindling, in Silesia, is given as 
Faust’s birthplace; another tradition, adopted in the origi- 
na) Frankfurt work, says Roda, near Weimar. 

This oldest book repeats Melancthon’s statement of 
Faust’s studies at Cracow, and his fame as a physician and 
sorcerer. It then describes the manner of his summoning 
the Devil at night, in a forest near Wittenberg. Afterwards 
the evil spirit visits him in his dwelling, and three severa) 
“disputations ” take place, at the third of which the spirit 
gives his name as Mephostophiles. The compact for the 











APPENDIX. 341 


term of twenty-four years is thereupon concluded. When 
Faust pierces his hand with the point of a knife in order to 
sign the compact, the blood flows into the form of the words 
O Homo Fuge! signifying: “O man, fly from him!” Meph- 
ostophiles first serves him in the form of a monk, supply- 
ing him with food and wine from the cellars of the Bishop of 
Salzburg and other prelates, and with rich garments from 
Augsburg and Frankfurt, so that Faust and his Famulus, 
Christopher Wagner, are enabled to live in the utmost lux- 
ury. It was not long, however, before Faust desired to 
marry, but this was in no wise permitted, Mephostophiles 
saying that marriage was pleasing to God, and therefore a 
violation of the compact. This feature of the legend grew 
directly from the questions of the Reformation; and there 
was a special meaning in giving the evil spirit the form of a 
monk. Wagner, moreover, is said to have been the son of a 
Catholic priest, picked up by Faust as a boy of fifteen, and 
by him educated. 

Then follow many discret wherein Faust questions 
Mephostophiles in regard to the creation of the world, the 
seasons, the planets, Hell and the infernal hierarchy, and is 
himself taken to the latter place in a chariot drawn by drag- 
ons. Afterwards, he wishes to visit the different parts of 
the earth: Mephostophiles changes himself into a horse, 
‘but with wings like a dromedary,” and flies with him 
through the air. They travel to all parts of Europe and 
finally come to Rome, where Faust lives three days in the 
Vatican, invisible. As often as the Pope makes the sign of 
the cross, he blows in his face: he also eats off the Pope’s 
table and drinks the wine from his goblets, until His Holi- 
ness commands all the bells of Rome to be rung, to dispel 
the evil magic. Faust then goes to Constantinople, where 
he appears in the Sultan’s palace in the form of Mahomet, 
and lives in state. He next traverses Egypt, then Morocco, 
the Orkney Islands, Scythia, Arabia, and Persia, and finally, 
“from the highest peak of the dsland of Caucasus” has a 
distant view of the Garden of Eden. After his return to 
Germany he visits the Court of the Emperor Charles V. at 





342 FAUST. 


Innsbruck, and at the desire of the latter calls up before him 
the shades of Alexander the Great and his wife. Many 
pranks are also related, which he plays upon the knights 
attending the Emperor. . 

The remaining part of the book is principally taken up 
with an account of the tricks and magical illusions with 
which Faust diverted himself in Leipzig, Erfurt. Gotha, and 
other parts of Northern Germany. He here resembles Till 
Eulenspiegel much more than the ambitious student of Cra- 
cow, who “took to himself the wings of an eagle, and would 
explore all the secrets of heaven and earth.” He swallows 
a span of horses and a load of hay; he cuts off heads and 
replaces them ; makes flowers bloom at Christmas, draws 
wine from a table, calls Helen of Troy from the shades at 
the request of a company of students; and shows himself 
everywhere as a gay, jovial companion, full of pranks, but 
exercising his supernatural power quite as often for good as 
for evil purposes. Finally, in the twenty-third year of his 
compact, Mephostophiles brings the Grecian Helena to him ; 
he becomes infatuated with her beauty, lives with her, and 
by her has a son whom he names Justus Faustus. On the 
night when his term of years expires, we find him in com- 
pany with some students in a tavern of the village of Rim- 
lich, near Wittenberg. He is overcome with melancholy, 
and makes the students an address wherein he expresses his 
great penitence, and his willingness that the Devil should 
have his body, provided his soul may receive pardon. At 
midnight a fearful storm arose: the next morning the walls 
and floor of the room were sprinkled with the bloody frag- 
ments of Faust, who had been so torn to pieces that no 
member was left whole. Helena and her child had dis- 
appeared. Wagner, by Faust’s will, became heir to his 
property, part of which was a dwelling in the town of 
Wittenberg. 

The great popularity of the legend in this form led to the 
preparation of Widmann’s larger and more ambitious work, 
which was published at Hamburg, in 1599. Its title is: 
* The Veritable History of the hideous and abominable sina 





APPENDIX. 343 


and vices, also of many wonderful and eerange adventures, 
which D. Johannes Faustus, a notorious black-artist and 
arch-sorcerer, by means of his black arr, committed even 
until his terrible ending. Fitted out ana expounded with 
necessary reminders and admirable instances, for manifold 
instruction and warning.” The story is substantially the 
same as in Spiess’s book, but many additional! anecdotes are 
inserted, and all the details are amplified. Instead of three 
“ disputations” between Faust and Mephostophiles, there 
are fen, and each is followed — as, in fact, every chapter in 
the work — by a long-winded theological discourse, called a 
Reminder (Zrinnerung). These Reminders are pedantic and 
fiercely Protestant in character : no opportunity is let slip to 
illustrate the vices of Faust by references to the Roman 
Church and its Popes. The name of the Famulus is changed 
to Johann Wayger, and two or three stories, taken from 
Luther’s table-talk, are arbitrarily applied to Faust ; whence 
the work is not considered by scholars to be so fair a repre- 
sentation of the popular traditions as that of Spiess. 

A new edition of Widmann’s book, revised but not im- 
proved by Dr. Pfitzer, was published in Nuremberg in 1674, 
and revived the somewhat faded popularity of the legend. 
The references to Faust in the Centuria of Camerarius (1602) 
and in Neumann’s Disgussitio Historica, were known only to 
the scholars, and Pfitzer’s reprint of Widmann was therefore 
welcomed by the people, several editions having been called 
for ina few years. By this time it was also represented as 
a puppet-play, and the knowledge of Faust and his history 
thus became universal in Germany. 

The only other work which requires notice is an abbrevia. 
tion of the legend, with some variations, written in a lively 
narrative style, and published at Frankfurt and Leipzig in 
the year 1728. The title is as follows: “The Compact 
concluded by the Devil with Dr. Johann Faust, notorious 
through the whole world as a sorcerer and arch-professor of 
tbe Black Art, together with his adventurous course of life 
and its terrifying end, all most minutely described. Now 
again newly revised, compressed into an agreeable brevity, 


344 FA OST. 


and furnished in print as a hearty admonition and warning to 
all wilful sinners, by One with Christian Intentions.” This 
quaint and curious narrative was certainly known to Goethe, 
as well as Widmann’s work. It is the last appearance of the 
legend in a popular form: thenceforth, through many chan- 
nels, the latter found its way into literature. 

The original book of Spiess was followed in 1594 by an 
account of the life of Christopher Wagner, whom the Devil 
accompanied in the form of an ape, under the name of Auer- 
hak» (moor-cock). It is an evident imitation of the story of 
Faust ; there is a similar compact, there are magical tricks, 
adventures, and airy travels, with a like tragical conclusion. 
This book was translated into English the same year, and 
immediately afterwards into Dutch; but there appears to 
have been no further German edition until 1712, when the 
original, with some additions, was reprinted in Berlin. In 
1742, a play entitled “The Vicious Life and Terrible End of 
Joh. Christoph Wagner,” was acted in the Frankfurt theatre. 

The stamp of the sixteenth century — of its beliefs, its 
superstitions, its struggles and its antagonisms—is unmis- 
takably impressed on the legend. The singular individual, 
half genius, half impostor, who bore the name of Faust, must 
have typified then, as now, the activity of blind, formless, 
unresting forces in the nature of the people; and through all 
the coarseness and absurdity of the stories which they have 
gathered around him, there are constant suggestions of the 
general craving for some withheld knowledge or right. In 
spite of Widmann’s “ Reminders ” and the “One with Chris- 
tian In‘entions,” it is very doubtful whether the meral of 
Faust’s ending overcame the sympathy of the people with 
his courage or their admiration of his power. There are 
elernents in the legend, the value of which even a purblind 
poet could not help seeing, yet which the loftiest genius may 
admit to be almost beyond his grasp. It ig not the least of 
Goethe’s deserts, that, although in bis youth “a new Faust 
was announced in every quarter of Germany.” he took up 
the theme already hackneyed bv small talents, and made it 
his own solely and forever. 





APPENDIX. 348 


APPENDIX II. 


THE CHRONOLOGY OF FAUST. 


AUST is the only great work in the literature of any 

language which requires a biography. The first child 
of Goethe’s brain and the Jast which knew the touch of his 
hand, its growth runs parallel with his life and reflects all 
forms of his manifold study and experience. While, there- 
fore, its plan is simple, grand, and consistent from beginning 
to end, the performance embraces so many varieties of style 
and such a multitude of not always homogeneous elements, 
that a chronological arrangement of the parts becomes ne 
cessary as a guide to the reader. 

During the illness which lasted for nearly a year after 
Goethe’s return from Leipzig in 1768, while he was dis- 
cussing religious questions with Fraulein von Klettenberg, 
reading cabalistic works and making experiments in alchemy, 
the subject of Faust, which was already familiar to him asa 
child, through the puppet-plays, took powerful and perma- 
nent hold on his imagination.* He carried it about with 


* The premonitions of the ‘‘ Storm and Stress’ period, which were by 
this time felt throughout Germany, directed the attention of many authors 
towards Faust, as a subject for dramatic poetry. Lessing was the first to 
take hold of it, but only fragments of three or four scenes of his tragedy 
have been preserved. The work was completed before his journey to 
Italy in 1775, and despatched from Dresden to Leipzig in a box which 
was lost, and never afterwards came to light. Captain von Blankenburg, 
in 1784, gave the following testimony concerning the tragedy, the manu- 
script of which he had read: ‘*‘ He undertook his work at a time when ix 
every quarter of Germany Fausts were announced as forthcoming ; and 
I know that he completed it. I have been positively informed that he only 
delayed its publication, in order that the other /axusts might first appear.” 

Of these other Fausts one was published at Munich in 1775, another at 
Mannheim in 1776, that of the painter Muller, Goethe’s friend, in 1778, 

15 * 


346 FAUST. 


him in Strasburg, concealing it ‘rom Herder during their 
intercourse in the winter of 1770 -71, and postponing it to 
write his first great work, Gas von Berlichingen. He passed 
the summer of 1772 at Wetzlar, but did not begin the com- 
position of Werther, which was the direct result of his resi- 
dence there, until the following year. “ Faust,” he says to 
Eckermann, originated (in manuscript ?) at the same time 
as Werther.” Thus the conception which he had grasped at 
the age of twenty had been shaping itself in his brain for 
four years, before any part of it was put into words Gotter, 
whose acquaintance he had made in Wetzlar, sends him in 
the summer of 1773 a poetical letter, in which he says: 
“‘Send me, in return, thy Doctor Faust, as soon as he has 
stormed out of tiiy head.” 

It is not probable that more than the opening monologue 
was written in 1773. Perhaps one or two of the first scenes 
with Margaret were added the following year; for when 
Klopstock visited Frankfurt in September, 1774, Goethe 
read to him “some scenes” of Faust, which the older poet 
then heartily praised, though he spoke slightingly of the 
same scenes after they were published. In January, 1775, 
Goethe read all that he had completed up to that time to his 
friend Jacobi, who wrote to him in 1791, alluding to the pub- 
lished ‘‘ Fragment”: “I knew nearly the whole of Fizst 
already, and precisely for that reason I was doubly and trcbly 
impressed by it. I have the same feeling now, as | had 
sixteen years ago.” Except the “Cathedral” and * Dun- 
geon”’ scenes, nearly all the parts in which Margaret is 
introduced, as well as ‘“* Auerbach’s Cellar,” and the con- 
versation of Mephistopheles.with the Student, were written 
in the spring of 1775. It is very evident that Merck was 


a fragment by Lenz in 1777, and a fifth in Salzburg, in 1782. Between 
the publication of Goethe’s ‘‘ Fragment” in 1790 and that of the com- 
pleted First Part in 1808, ine additional Faxsts, by various authors, 
made their appearance ; and between the latter date and the pubtication 
of the Second Part, in 1832, fowrteen more! Therefore, including the 
work of Le<sing, the material of the Faust-legend was employed by 
twenty-nine different authors, during the period which Goeth: devoted 
to the elaboration of his own original design ! 








APPENDIX. 347 


also allowed to see the manuscript, and that Goethe’s de- 


8ign was freely discussed among his friends. The publisher 


Mylius, in Berlin, writes to Merck towards the end of 1774, 
that he will take the manuscript of Goethe’s Sé//a for twenty 
thalers (!), although he fears that the author may expect 
“ fifty thalers for his next work, and perhaps a hundred louis 
d’or for his Doctor Faust!” 

Goethe says : “I brought the work with me to Weimar in 
1775. i had written it on foolscap, without any erasures ; 
for I was very careful not to write down a line which was 
not good and might not be allowed to stand.” In this form 
he read it to the Court circle, which at that time included 
Wieland, Knebel, and Muszus. As nearly as can be ascer- 
tained, the manuscript comprised the first half of Scene I., 
the latter half of Scene IV., and the following series of scenes 
to XVIII., with the exception of VI. and XIV. In addition 
to these, there were probably several scenes which were af- 
terwards omitted before the publication of the work, and one 
(Scene XXIII., in prose) which was restored, many years 
later. It is also evident that the plan of the whole work was 
at least roughly outlined by this time. Its development, 
however, —except through that secret, unconscious growth 
which kept it alive under the production of so many other 
works, — was now arrested for a long while. The concep- 
tions of a young poet are always in advance of his power ; 
hut there is a good attendant genius who thwarts and delays 
the performance until the auspicious season. 

In 1780, after the completion of /phigenia in Tauris, “nd 
while his mind was still bathed in the Grecian atmosphere, 
Goethe wrote portions of the /e/ena, for the Second Part of 
Faust. There seems to be no doubt that the manuscript was 
read to the Duke, Karl August, his mother, the Duchess 
Amalia, to Herder and Knebel; but the scenes must have 
been afterwards suppressed, for the existing //c/ena is cer- 
tainly ofa later origin. This is, nevertheless, the only positive 
evidence that anything was added to the work between 1775 
and 1788. 

Goethe’s journey to Italy was not only the realization of 


348 FA OST. 


an early desire, but it was also a necessary escape from the 
irksome duties of his position at Weimar. He broke away 
corcibly from affairs of state in order to recuperate himself 
for poetry, and his eagerness and anxiety may be guessed 
from the circumstance that he kept his plan secret from every 
one except the Duke, fearing that he would never succeed if 
his intention should become known. It was the old super- 
stition of keeping silence while lifting a buried treasure. 
The only manuscript he took with him was that of Faust, 
which he had brought from Frankfurt, and which was now so 
yellow and worn and frayed, that he says it might almost 
have passed for an ancient codex. Nevertheless, he did not 
succeed in returning to the work until the spring of 1788, 
just before his final departure from Rome. He writes in 
March: ‘It is a different thing, of course, to complete the 
work now, instead of fifteen years ago; but I think nothing 
is lost, since I feel sure of having regained the thread. In 
so far as regards the tone of the whole, also, I am comforted : 
I have already finished a new scene, and if the paper were 
only smoked, I think no one could pick it out from the old 
ones.” This new scene is the “ Witches’ Kitchen.” It is 
doubtful whether the ‘“‘ Cathedral ” and “ Forest and Cavern” 
were also added in Rome, or after his return to Weimar. 

Finally, in 1790, in Géschen’s Leipzig edition of Goethe’s 
works, Faust appeared as “ A Fragment.” I have already 
mentioned, in the Notes, the scenes which it contains, from 
I. to XX., with the exception of a gap from the middle of 
Scene I. to the middle of Scene IV., and XIX. (Night: Val- 
entine’s Death). The impression which the publication pro- 
duced was not encouraging : the fragment was not generally 
understood, and the power exhibited in the separate scenes 
was only partially appreciated.* Goethe, occupied with 

* Heyne, in Gottingen, wrote: ‘' There are fine passages in it, but with 
them there are such things as only he could give to the world, who takes 
all other men to be blockheads.”” Wieland expressed his regret that it 
was such a patchwork of earlier and Jater labors. Schiller was then un- 
satisfied with the impression it produced. and only Korner and Auguat 
Schlegel] seem to have had some prescntiment of Goethe's design and the 
grandeur of his fragmentary performance. 


APPENDIX. 349 


Wilhelm Meister and Hermann und Dorothea, banished it for 
a time from his thoughts ; and the first instigation which led 
him to resume the work came from Schiller, who thus wrote 
to him on the 29th of November, 1794: ‘ But I have no less 
desire to read those fragments of your Faust which are not 
jet printed; for I confess that what I have already read 
seems to me the torso of Hercules. In these scenes there is 
a power and fulness of genius which clearly reveals the high- 
est master-hand, and I wish to follow as far as possible the 
bold and lofty nature which breathes through them.” Goethe 
wrote in answer: “I can at present communicate nothing of 
Faust; I do not dare to untie the package in which he is 
imprisoned. I could not copy without continuing the work, 
and I have no courage for that, now. If anything can restore 
it to me in the future, it is surely your sympathy.” 

It seems, however, that during the following winter Goethe 
took the manuscript to Jena, and discussed the plan of the 
work with Schiller, for in the summer of 1795 Wilhelm von 
Humboldt writes to the latter, thanking him for his informa- 
tion concerning Faust. ‘The plan,” he says, “is gigantic: 
what a pity, therefore, that it will never be anything else than 
a plan!” If Frau von Kalb’s memory is to be trusted, 
Goethe wrote about this time the interview between Mephis- 
topheles and the Baccalaureus (Part Second, Act II.), which 
has generally been referred to a much later date. 

There is no evidence that the First Part of Fasst was re- 
sumed before 1797, when the “ Dedication ”’ and the ‘“‘ Pro- 
logue in Heaven” were probably written, together with the 
Intermezzo (Oberon and Titania’s Golden Wedding), which 
was afterwards inserted by accident rather than design. In 
1798 the “‘ Prelude on the Stage ” and perhaps the conclu- 
sion of Scene I., together with Scene II. and III., appear to 
have been written. It is probable that the concluding scene 
of the First Part (the ‘ Dungeon ”’) was either produced or 
rewritten at this time. Goethe writes to Schiller that he is 
favored by “the lyrical mood of Spring,” and in several let- 
ters announces the progress he is making in the work. Dur- 
ing the year 1799 little, if anything, was accomplished: but 


350 FAUST. 


in 1800 Goethe commenced the composition of the Helena, 
which is frequently mentioned in his correspondence with 
Schiller during that year. He writes on one occasion: 
“ During these eight days, I have fortunately been able to 
hold fast the conception of the situations, of which you al- 
ready know, and my Helena has actually entered on the 
stage. But now the beauty in the ré/e of my heroine attracts 
me so much, that I shall be disconsolate if I must at last 
(since the whole can only be represented as a spectral ap- 
pearance) transform her into a grinning mask.” Schiller 
answers, apparently referring to former conversations: “ It 
is a very important advantage, that you consciously advance 
from the (artistically) pure to the impure, instead of seeking 
a method of soaring from the impure to the pure, as is the 
case with the rest of us barbarians. In Fasst, therefore, you 
must everywhere assert your right of force” (Fasstrechi, an 
untranslatable pun). 

In the autumn of 1800, Goethe laid the Alena aside, and 
devoted himself seriously to the completion of the First 
Part. He wrote the Walpurgis-Night and the scene of 
Valentine’s death, and then endeavored to fill the gap 
remaining between the /#termesso and the ‘ Dungeon” 
scene. In this he was unsuccessful, and all his remaining 
labor from that time until] the publication of the First Part, 
complete, in 1808, was probably merely that of adjustment 
and revision. The depression which weighed upon him 
after Schiller's death in 1805 affected his interest in Fasst 
more than in any other of his literary plans. 

When the First Part finally appeared, the following por- 
tions of the Second Part appear to have been already in 
existence: Scene I., and possibly a part of Scene II., of 
Act I; Scene I. of Act II.; nearly the first half of Act 
III. (Helena); and some fragments of Act V. There is no 
doubt that Goethe knew, as he wrote to Zelter nearly twenty 
years afterwards, “what was still necessary to be written, 
but was not yet decided in regard to the ow.” It is not 
necessary to recapitulate here all the interruptions, the vary- 
ing literary and scientific interests, which came between the 








APPENDIX. 351 


pian and its fulfilment. Goethe was fifty-nine years old 
when the First Part was published, and the years passed by 
in other labors until he was seventy-five, before the impulse 
to complete the Second Part returned to him. 

In 1824 he gave to Eckermann a programme which he 
had prepared for the completion of Wahrheit und Dichtung. 
It contained a prose outline of the continuation of Faust, and 
&ckermann wrote in reply: ‘Whether this plan of Faust 
should be communicated or held in reserve, is a doubt which 
can only be solved after the fragments already in existence 
have been carefully examined, and it is clear whether the 
hope of completing the work must be given up or not.” 
This hint seems to have aroused Goethe: the plan was 
withheld, and the work was commenced, certainly in the fol- 
lowing year. The elena, to which he felt most strongly 
attracted, received a new interest for him through the idea of 
representing Byron in the child Euphorion, and the Act was 
finished in 1826. It was published in 1827, in the fourth 
volume of ‘‘Goethe’s Works, with the Author’s Fina] Re- 
visions,” under the title of “‘ Helena: a Classico-Romantic 
Phantasmagoria,” and at once excited the greatest interest 
and curiosity. From Edinburgh to Moscow the European 
critics seem to have been both delighted and puzzled by it. 
Carlyle wrote an admirable paper upon it, in which he shows 
great shrewdness in unriddling its symbolism. The encour- 
agement which such a reception of the single act gave to 
Goethe, stimulated him anew to complete the work, and for 
four years longer it became the leading motive of his life. 

In the beginning of 1828 the first three scenes of the First 
Act— Faust’s Awakening, the Emperor’s Court, and the 
Carnival Masquerade — were published in the twelfth vol- 
ume of his works, and were received with an enthusiasm 
equal to that which the Aé/ena called forth. Goethe, now 
nearly eighty years old, worked slowly and with a laggard 
power of invention ; but he held to his conceptions with the 
same tenacity as in his earliest literary youth, and suffered 
no favorable mood of body or mind to pass without adding 
some lines. The portions already completed were fastened 


352 FAUST. 


together, with blank sheets of a different color between, in- 
dicating the gaps yet to be filled; and he rejoiced from 
month to month as the unwritten gave place to the written 
color. During 1829 and 1830 the First Act was completed, 
and the whole of the Second Act, including the Classical 
Walpurgis-Night, was written; so that, at the beginning of 
1831, there only remained the Fourth Act and the opening 
scenes of the Fifth. This was the most laborious part of 
the task, and has left upon it palpable traces of labor; but 
by the end of July the work was done, and on his eighty- 
second birthday, August 28, 1831, Goethe sealed up the 
complete manuscript of the Second Part, to be opened and 
published after his death. ‘“ From this time on,” he said to 
Eckermann, “I look upon my life as a perfect gift, and it is 
really indifferent what I may further do, or whether I shall 
do anything.” Seven months afterwards, he was dead. 
Faust is, in the most comprehensive sense, a drama of the 
Life of Man. The course of its moral and intellectual plot, 
as first designed by the author, is now and then delayed by 
the material added to it during the different phases of his 
own development, but was never changed. This plot is 
chiefly unfolded to the reader through the medium of two 
elements, which, from first to last, are combined in it, yet may 
easily be separated. The difficulties in the way of its com- 
prehension have been caused by the introduction of a third, 
accidental, and unnecessary element, which is so interwoven 
with the others (especially in the Second Part), that the reader 
is often led away from the true path before he is aware of it. 
The first of the elements, and the one which gives indi- 
vidual coloring and reality to the characters, Goethe drew 
from his own experience. All the earlier scenes, he de- 
clares, were subjectively written: Mephistopheles and Faust 
were the opposite poles of his own nature. His own ambi- 
tion, disappointment, love, unrest, are all reflected through- 
out the First Part; and the poise of his riper nature, his 
zsthetic passion and his religious feeling, in the opening of 
the First Act, the Ae/ena, and the Fifth Act of the Second 
Part. The second element, drawn from his objective study 


APPENDIX. 353 


of men and his observation of the world, is blended witb 
the former, but especially manifests itself in the aphoris- 
tic character of much of the Second Part, and in the sym- 
bolism which he so constantly employs for the sake of more 
compressed expression. I have endeavored to indicate, in 
the Notes, all that can be traced to his own personal expe- 
rience, and thereby to furnish a guide which may direct the 
reader to that more intimate and satisfactory knowledge 
which will follow his own studies. 

What I have called the accidental element is illustrated 
by the /stermeszo, which was wilfully inserted ; by the lit- 
erary satire in the Witches’ Kitchen and the Walpurgis- 
Night ; and in the Second Part by the paper-money scene in 
the First Act, the controversy of the Neptunists and Pluto- 
nists in the Second and the Fourth, and the introduction of 
Byron in the Third. All these features must be eliminated 
from the moral and intellectual course of the action, with 
which they have not the slightest connection. Indeed, the 
whole of the Classical Walpurgis-Night, admirable and won- 
derful as it is, in parts, forms a very roundabout mode of 
transition from the Emperor’s Court to the allegory of He- 
lena. Only by holding fast to the leading idea can we safely 
follow its labyrinthine windings. 

What Goethe himself said of Faxs¢ in his eightieth year, in 
speaking of Stapfer’s French translation, may be quoted in 
conclusion, as an estimate equally modest and just: “The 
commendation which the work has received, far and near, 
may perhaps be owing to this quality — that it permanently 
preserves the period of development of a human soul, which 
is tormented by all that afflicts mankind, shaken also by all 
that disturbs it, repelled by all that it finds repellent, and 
made happy by all that which it desires. The author is a 
present far removed from such conditions: the world, like- 
wise, has to some extent other struggles to undergo: never- 
theless, the state of men, in joy and sorrow, remains very 
much the same; and the latest-born will still find cause ta 
acquaint himself with what has been enjoyed and suffered be- 
fore him, in order to adapt himself to that which awaits him.” 


354 FAUST. 


APPENDIX III. 


MARLOWE’S “DR. FAUSTUS.” 


\ R. DYCE’S recent edition of Marlowe renders it un- 
A necessary that I should add an account of the manner 
in which the latter has treated the legend. His material, as 
I have already stated, was the English translation of Spiess‘s 
book, published in London in 1590. I quote the first scene, 
because it offers both a resemblance and a contrast to the 
first scene of Goethe :— 


Enter Cnorus. 


Not marching in the fields of Tharsimen, 
Where Mars did mate the warlike Carthigen : 
Nor sporting in the dalliance of love, 

In courts of kings, where state is overturned ; 
Nor in the pomp of proud, audacious deeds, 
Intends our muse to vaunt his heavenly verse : 
Only this, gentles, we must now perform, 

The form of Faustus’ fortunes, good or bad: 
And now to patient judgments we appeal, 

And speak for Faustus in his infancy : 

Now is he born of parents base of stock, 

In Germany, within a town called Rhodes ; 

At riper years to Wittenburg he went : 

So much he profits in divinity, 

That shortly he was graced with Doctor’s name, 
Excelling all, and sweetly can dispute 

In th’ heavenly matters of theology : 

Till, swoln with cunning and a self-conceit, 
His waxen wings did mount above his reach ; 
And melting heavens conspired his overthrow ; 
For falling to a devilish exercise, 

And glutted now with learning’s golden gifts, 
He surfeits on the cursed necromancy. 
Nothing so sweet as magic is to him, 








APPENDIX. 355 


Which he prefers before his chiefest bliss, 
Whereas his kinsman chiefly brought him up, 
And this the man that in his study sits. 


Act THe First. — Scene I. 


Faustus tx Ais study. 


Faust. Settle thy studies, Faustus, and beg, 
To sound the depth of that thou wilt profess ; 
Having commenced, be a divine in show, 

Yet level at the end of every art, 

And live and die in Aristotle’s works. 

Sweet analytics, ’tis thou hast ravished me. 
Bene disserere est fines logicis 

Is, to dispute well, logic’s chiefest end? 
Affords this art no greater miracle? 

Then read no more ; thou hast attained that end. 
A greater subject fitteth Faustus’ wit : 

Bid economy farewell : and Galen come. 

Be a physician, Faustus; heap up gold, 

And be eternized for some wondrous cure ; 
Suneneum bonum medicina sanitas ; 

The end of physic is our bodies’ health. 

Why, Faustus, hast thou not attained that end? 
Are not thy bills hung up as monuments, 
Whereby whole cities have escaped the plague, 
And thousand desperate maladies been cured? 
Yet thou art stil] but Faustus and a man. 
Couldst thou make men to live eternally, 

Or, being dead, raise them to life again, 

Then this profession were to be esteemed. 
Physic, farewell! Where is Justinian? 

Si una eademque res legatur duobus, 

Alter rem, alter valorem rei, &¢. 

A petty case of paltry legacies. 

E-xhereditari filium non potest Jater nisi, &¢. 
Such is the subject of the institute, 

And universal body of the law. 

This study fits a mercenary drudge, 

Who aims at nothing but external trash, 

‘Noo servile and illiberal for me. 

When all is done, divinity is best 

Jerome’s Bible, Faustus: view it well. 
Stifendium peccati mors est: ha! stipendium, &. 
The reward of sin is death: that ’s hard. 


356 FA OST. 


St peccAsse neganeus, fallineur, et nulla est in nobis veritas : 
If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, ana there 3s no truth in us 
Why then belike we must sin, 

And so consequently die. 

Ay, we must die an everlasting death. 

What doctrine call you this? Che sera, sera: 
What will be, shall be ; divinity, adieu ! 

These metaphysics of magicians, 

And necromantic books are heavenly ! 

Lines, circles, letters, characters : 

Ay, these are those that Faustus most desires. 
Oh ! what a world ot profit and delight, 

Of power, of honur, and omnipotence, 

Is promised to the studious artisan ! 

All things that move between the quiet pole 
Shall be at my command Emperors and kings 
Are but obeyed in their several provinces ; 

But his dominion that exceeds in this, 
Stretches as far as doth the mind of man: 

A sound magician is ademigod. 

Here tire my orains to get a deity. 


(Enter WAGNER.) 











FAUST 
A Lrageoy 


JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE 


TRANSLATED, IN THE ORIGINAL METRES, BY 


BAYARD TAYLOR 


TWO VOLUMES IN ONE 
VOL. ILI. 


Sein Obr vernimmt den Einklang der veer: 

Was die Geschichte reicht, das Leben ci 

Sein Bussen nimmt ¢s gleich und willig I. 

Das weit Zerstreute sammelt sein Gemiith 

Und sein Geliihl belebt das Unbelebte. 
GortHr: Tatimn 





BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
Che Hivergive Press Cambridge 





COPYRIGHT, 1871, BY BAYARD TAYLOR 
COPYRIGHT, 1899 AND 1913, BY MARIE HANSEN TAYLOR 


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 





INTRODUCTION. 


— fo 


Eleusin servat quod ostendat revisentibus. 
Sangca, Qucest. Nat. vii. 31. 


KNOW how much prepossession I encounter, 

in claiming for the Second Part of Faust a 
higher intellectual character, if a lower dramatic 
and poetical value, than the First Part. In Mr. 
Hayward’s Appendix, and Mr. Lewes’ Life of 
Goethe, the Second Part is virtually declared to 
be a secondary, unimportant work, chaotic in de- 
tail and without any consistent design as a whole, 
in short, the mistake of Goethe’s old age, instead 
of being, as it really is, the conception of his 
prime, partly written, and entirely planned, before 
the publication of the First Part. 

The five translations which have already ap- 
peared have, unfortunately, not succeeded in pre- 
senting the wc « clearly and attractively to the 
English reader Those of Bernays, Macdonald, 
and Gurney are characterized by knowledge of the 
text, but give no satisfactory clew to the author’s 





design ; while that of Dr. Anster, the most read. 
able of all, and showing a further insight into the 
meaning, is a very loose paraphrase, rather than a 
translation. The original metres, which are here 
even more important than in the First Part, have 
been retained by no translator. I do not wish to 
be understood as passing an unfriendly judgment 
upon the labors of my predecessors ; for I have 
learned what difficulties stood in their way, and 
also how easy it is, in the perplexing labyrinth of 
German comment, to miss the simplest and surest 
key to Goethe’s many-sided allegories. 

The first mistake which many of the critics have 
‘made is in attempting any comparison of the two 
‘parts. While the moral and intellectual problem, 
which is first stated in the Prologue in Heaven, 
advances through richer and broader phases of 
development to its final solution, the story which 
comes to an end in Margaret’s dungeon is not 
resumed. The Second Part opens abruptly in a 
broad, bright, crowded world ; we not only breathe 
a new atmosphere, but we come back to Faust and 
Mephistopheles as if after a separation of many 
years, and find that our former acquaintances have 
changed in the interval, even as ourselves. “It 
must be remembered,” says Goethe, “that the 
First Part is the development of a somewhat ob- 
scure individual condition. It is almost wholly 
subjective ; it is the expression of a confused, 
restricted, and passionate nature.” On the other 
hand, we learn from the study of Goethe’s life 


INTRODUCTION. Vv 


that the wealth of the material which he had 
accumulated for the Second Part occasioned an 
embarrassment in regard to the form, which partly 
accounts for the long postponement of the work. 
He expressly declares* that the Second Part of 
the drama must be performed upon a different, a 
broader, and more elevated stage of action ; that 
one who has not lived in the world and acquired 
some experience will not know how to compre- 
hend it; and that, like an unsolved riddle, it will 
repeatedly allure the reader to the renewed study 
of its secret meanings. 

The last of these declarations is not egotistical, 
because it is so exactly true. No commentary can 
exhaust the suggestiveness of the work. Schiller 
doubted that a poetic measure could be formed, 
capable of holding Goethe’s plan; and we find, 
indeed, that the substance overflows its bounds on 
all sides. With all which the critics have accom- 
plished, they have still left enough untouched to 
allow fresh discoveries to every sympathetic read- 
er. There are circles within circles, forms which 
beckon and then disappear ; and when we seem 
to have reached the bottom of the author’s mean- 
ing, we suspect that there is still something be- 
yond. The framework lay buried so long in the 
sea of Goethe’s mind, that it became completely 
incrusted, here and there with a barnacle, it is 


* Announcement of the Ae/ena (quoted in note 103). 
Correspondence with Schiller, and Eckermann’s Conversa- 
tions. 


vi FAUST. 


true, but also with a multitude of pearl-oysters 
Many of the crowded references are directly de- 
ducible from the allegory; still more are made 
clear to us through a knowledge of Goethe’s devel- 
opment, as man and poet ; while some few have 
lost the clew to their existence, and must probably 
always stand, orphaned and strange, on one side 
or other of the plain line of development running 
through the poem. 

The early disparagement which the Second Part 
of Faust received is only in our day beginning to 
give way to an intelligent recognition of its grand 
design, its wealth of illustration, and the almost 
inexhaustible variety and beauty of its rhythmi- 
cal forms. Although its two chief offences (to the 
German mind) are not yet, and perhaps never can 
be wholly, condoned, the period of misconception 
is over, and the voices of rage or contempt, once 
so frequently heard, are becoming faint and few. 
The last twenty-five years have greatly added to 
our means of elucidation ; and much that seemed 
to be whim or purposed obscurity is now revealed 
in clear and intelligible outlines. When Vischer 
compares the work to a picture of the old Titian, 
wherein the master-hand is still recognized, but 
trembling with age and stippling in the color with 
slow, painful touches, he forgets that the design 
was already drawn, and some of the figures nearly 
completed, in the Master's best days. I should 
rather liken it to a great mosaic, which, looked at 
near at hand, shows us the mixture of precious 


INTRODUCTION. vil 


marbles and common pebbles, of glass, jasper, 
and lapis-lazuli; but, seen in the proper perspec- 
tive, exhibits ‘only the Titanic struggle of Man, 
surrounded with shapes of Beauty and Darkness, 
towards a victorious immortality. 

It would have been better, undoubtedly, if the 
completion of the work had not been so long 
delayed, and Goethe had thereby been able to 
give us, with more limited stores of knowledge, a 
greater poetic unity. It is hardly the feebleness 
of the octogenarian which we perceive. The ac- 
quisitions of the foregoing thirty years seemed to 
have gradually formed a crust over the lambent 
poetical element in his nature; but the native 
force of the latter is nowhere so wonderfully re- 
vealed as here, since it is still able to crack and 
shiver the erudite surface of his mind, and to 
flame out clearly and joyously. Wherever it thus 
displays itself, it is still the same pure, illuminat- 
ing, solving and blending power, as in his earlier 
years. 

The reader to whom this book is a new land 
must of necessity be furnished with a compass 
and an outline chart before he enters it. He 
may, otherwise, lose his way in its tropical jun- 
gles, before reaching that “ peak in Darien,” from 
which Keats, like Balboa, beheld a new side of 
the world. While the Notes contain as much in- 
terpretation of the details of the plan as seems 
to be possible at present, I consider that a brief 
previous statement of the argument is absolutely 
required. 


Viil FA UST. 


We must forget the tragical story of the First 
Part, and return to the compact between Faust 
and Mephistopheles, where the latter declares: 
“The little world, and then the great, we ’ll see.” 
‘The former world is at an end, and, after an open- 
ing scene which symbolizes the healing influences 
of Time and Nature, Faust and his companion 
appear at the Court of the German Emperor. 
The ruined condition of the realm gives Mephis- 
topheles a chance of acquiring place and power 
for Faust, through the introduction of a new finan- 
cial system. While this is in progress, the days 
of Carnival furnish the occasion for a Masquer- 
ade, crowded with allegorical figures, representing 
Society and Government. Goethe found that no 
detached phases of life were adequate to his pur- 
pose. Faust, in the First Part, is an individual, 
in narrow association with other individuals: here 
he is thrown into the movement of the world, the 
phenomena of human development, and becomes, 
to a certain extent, typical of Man. Hence the 
allegorical character of the Masquerade, which is 
confusing, from the great range and mixture of its 
symbolism. 

The Emperor’s wish to have Paris and Helena 
called from the Shades (as in the original Legend) 
is expressed when Faust is already growing weary 
of the artificial life of the Court. Mephistopheles 
sends him to the mysterious Mothers, that he 
may acquire the means of evoking the models of 
beauty ; and at this point the artistic, or zsthetic 





INTRODUCTION. ix 


element —the sense of the Beautiful in the human 
mind — is introduced as a most important agent 
of human culture, gradually refining and purifying 
Faust’s nature, and lifting it forever above all the 
meanness and littleness of the world. Mephis 
topheles is bound by his compact to serve, even in 
fulfilling this aspiration which he cannot compre- 
hend; but he obeys unwillingly, and with con. 
tinual attempts to regain his diminishing power. 
After the apparition of Helena, and Faust’s rash 
attempt to possess at once the Ideal of the Beauti- 
ful, the scene changes to the latter’s old Gothic 
chamber, where we meet the Student of the First 
Part as a Baccalaureus, and find Wagner, in his 
laboratory, engaged in creating a Homunculus. 
This whimsical sprite guides Faust and Mephis- 
topheles to the Classical Walpurgis-Night, where 
the former continues his pilgrimage towards He- 
lena (the Beautiful), while the latter, true to his 
negative character, finally reaches his ideal of 
Ugliness in the Phorkyads. The allegory of the 
Classical Walpurgis-Night is also difficult to be 
unravelled, but it is not simply didactic, like that 
of the Carnival Masquerade. A purer strain of 
poetry breathes through it, and the magical moon- 
light which shines upon its closing Festals of the 
Sea prepares us for the sunbright atmosphere of 
the Helena, 

This interlude, occupying the Third Act, is an- 
other allegory, complete in itself, and only lightly 
attached to the course of the drama. While it 


x FAUST. 


exhibits, in the latter connection, the esthetic 
purification of Faust’s nature, its leading motive 
is the reconciliation of the Classic and Romantic 
elements in Art and Literature. Euphorion, the 
child of Faust and Helena, who vanishes in flame, 
leaving only his garments and lyre behind him, is 
then presented to us as Byron, and the Act closes 
with a transmigration of “the fair humanities of 
old religion” into the spirit and sentiment of 
Modern Poetry. 

The Fourth Act exhibits Faust to us, enlight- 
ened and elevated above his former self, and anx- 
ious for a grand and worthy sphere of activity. 
His aim is, to bend Nature to the service of Man, 
—to bar the ocean from a great stretch of half- 
submerged land, and thus conquer the aimless 
force of the unruly elements. Mephistopheles 
takes advantage of the political dissensions of the 
Empire, and the appearance of a new claimant for 
the crown, at the head of an army, to proffer his 
own and Faust’s services to the Emperor. A bat- 
tle takes place; the rebels are defeated, through 
the magic arts of Mephistopheles, and Faust re- 
ceives the sea-shore in feoff forever. 

The Fifth Act opens on the accomplished work. 
Faust, a hundred years old, inhabits a palace, in 
the midst of a green, thickly-peopted land, diked 
from the sea. But he has not yet found the one 
moment of supreme happiness. A pestilential 
marsh still remains to be drained ; and he has not 
succeeded in gaining the coveted possession of a 





INTRODUCTION. xi 


sand-hill near his palace, the residence of an old 
couple who have charge of a little chapel on the 
downs. Mephistopheles endeavors to implicate 
him in the guilty seizure of this Naboth’s vine- 
yard, but is again baffled. Faust, become blind, 
finds a clearer light dawning upon his spirit: while 
the workmen are employed upon the canal which 
completes his great work, he perceives that he has 
created free and happy homes for the coming gen- 
erations of men, and the fore-feeling of satisfied 
achievement impels him to say to the passing 
Moment: “ Ah, still delay,— thou art so fair!” 
When the words are uttered, he sinks upon the 
earth, dead. 

The struggle of Mephistopheles with the angels 
for the possession of Faust’s soul, and a scene in 
Heaven, where Margaret appears, like Beatrice in 
Dante’s /aradiso, as the spiritual guide of her 
redeemed lover, close the drama. Although the 
condition of the compact has been fulfilled, Meph- 
istopheles loses his wager. In willing the Bad, 
he has worked the Good: the “obscure aspiration ” 
in Faust’s nature has lifted itself, through Love, 
Experience, the refining power of the Beautiful, 
and beneficent activity, to more than an instinct, 
to a knowledge of “the one true way.” The 
Epilogue in Heaven carries us back to the Prol- 
ogue, and indicates to us, through a wondrous, 
mystic symbolism, the victorious vitality of Good 
and the omnipotence of the Divine Love. 

Briefly, then, Act I. represents Society and Gov- 





arr FAUST. 


ernment; Acts II. and III. the development of 
the Idea of the Beautiful as the highest human 
attribute, with almost a saving power; Act IV., 
War; and Act V., Beneficent Activity, crowned by 
Grace and Redemption. The financial scheme, 
the discussion of geological theories, the union of 
the Classic and Romantic, and the introduction 
of those three tricksy spirits, the Boy Charioteer, 
Homunculus, and Euphorion (whom I have inter- 
preted as different personifications of Goethe’s 
own Poetic Genius), must be considered as digres- 
sions from the direct course of the plot. In order 
to understand how they originated, and the prob- 
able raisons d’étre by which the author justified 
them to his own mind, I refer the reader to the 
Notes, which will be found indispensable. I 
might, indeed, have greatly added to the latter, 
had I not felt obliged to consider that those to 
whom the material is not familiar may as easily 
lose their clew through too much detail of inter- 
pretation as from the unexplained text. 

Goethe’s chief offence is the license which he 
allows himself in regard to his language. We 
find, especially in those portions which were last 
written, frequent instances of crabbed, arbitrary 
construction, words and compounds invented in 
defiance of all rule, and various other deviations 
from his own full, clear, and rounded style.* This 


* “That which first repels the reader in this second 
Faust-drama is the philological element, which is found 
throughout the greater part of it. A dragging march of the 








INTRODUCTION. xiii 


has been contemptuously called the “ Privy-Coun- 
cillor’s dialect ” (Geheimrathssprache) by some of 
the critics, who assail Goethe with cries of wrath ; 
but it is a feature of the original which cannot be 
reproduced in the translation, and ought not to 
be, if it could be. If the reader now and then 
falls upon an unusual compound, or a seemingly 
forced inversion of language, I must beg him to 
remember that my sins against the poetical laws 
of the English language are but a small percentage 
of Goethe’s sins against the German. The other 
difficulty seems to lie partly in the intellectual 
constitution of the critics themselves, many of 
whom are nothing if not metaphysical. The ful- 
ness of the matter is such that various apparently 
consistent theories may be drawn from it, and 
much of the confusion which has thence ensued 
has been charged to the author’s account. Here, 
as in the First Part, the study of Goethe’s life and 
other works has been my guide through the laby- 
rinth of comment; I have endeavored to give, in 
every case, the simplest and most obvious inter- 
pretation, even if, to some readers, it may not 
seem the most satisfactory. 


diction, awkwardly long and painfully complicated sentences, 
a mass of unsuccessful verbal forms and adaptations, unne- 
cessarily obscure images, forced transitions, affected superla- 
tive participles and compounds, —all these things operate 
repellently enough upon many persons, and spoil, in advance, 
their enjoyment of the work.” — Xastlin, Goethe's Faust, 
Seine Kritiker und Ausleger, 


xiv FAUST. 


I have adhered, as those familiar with the origi- 
nal text will perceive, to the same plan of trans- 
lation. The original metres are more closely 
reproduced than even in the First Part, for the 
predominance of symbol and aphorism, in the 
place of sentiment and passion, has, in this re- 
spect, made my task more easy; and there are, 
from beginning to end, less than a score of lines 
where I have been compelled to take any liberty 
with either rhythm or rhyme. Indeed, the form, 
especially in the Ae/ena, is so intimately blended 
with the symbolical meaning, that I cannot con- 
ceive of the two being separated ; for they are 
soul and body, and separation, to us, is death of 
the one and disappearance of the other. The 
classic metres, which Goethe uses, surely lend 
themselves as readily to the English language as 
to the German ; and, while I have rendered this 
portion of the drama almost as literally as would 
be possible in prose, I can only hope that the 
unaccustomed ear will not be startled and repelled 
by its new metrical character. I am not aware 
that either the iambic trimeter or the trochaic 
tetrameter has ever been introduced into English 
verse. The classic reader, who may miss the 
czesura here and there, will, I trust, recognize both 
the necessity and the justification. 

In conctuding this labor of years, I venture to 
express the hope that, however I may have fallen 
short of reproducing the original in another, though 
a kindred language, I may, at least, have assisted 





INTRODUCTION. xv 


in naturalizing the masterpiece of German litera- 
ture among us, and to that extent have explained 
the supreme place which has been accorded to 
Goethe among the poets of the world. Where I 
have differed from the German critics and com- 
mentators, I would present the plea, that the laws 
of construction are similar, whether one builds a 
cottage or a palace ; and the least of authors, to 
whom metrical expression is a necessity, may have 
some natural instinct of the conceptions of the 


highest. 


March, 1871. 


B. T. 








ScENE 


Il. 
III. 
IV. 


VI. 
VIL. 


Il. 
Il. 


SECOND PART OF THE TRAGEDY. 


CONTENTS. 


ACT I. 


A PLEASANT LANDSCAPE. 


THE EMPEROR’S CASTLE 


Spacious HALL (Carnrval Masquerade) . 


PLEASURE-GARDEN (Pafer-Money Scheme) . 
A Groomy GALLERY ( Zhe Mothers) 


BRILLIANTLY LIGHTED HALLS 


HALL OF THE KNIGHTS (farts and Helena) 


A GOTHIC CHAMBER, FORMERLY FAUST’S 


ACT IT. 


LABORATORY (Homunculus) . 


CLASSICAL WALPURGIS-NIGHT. 


I. 
IT. 
IIl. 
IV. 
V. 


THE PHARSALIAN FIRLDS 
PENEUS 


ON THE UPPER PENEUS, AS BEFORE 
Rocky COVES OF THE ASGEAN SEA 


TELCHINES OF RHODES. 


kf 


103 
114 
124 
145 
155 





xviii CONTENTS. 


ACT III. 
THE HELENA . . .«© «© © © « « 364 


ACT IV. 
I. HicH MounrtTAINS ; ‘ P P 228 
II. ON THE HEADLAND es ‘ F - 24! 


III. THe RivaL Emperor’s TENT . ‘ ° 259 


ACT V. 


I. Open COUNTRY ‘ : : ; . « 271 
II. IN THE LITTLE GARDEN. ° ‘ 274 
III. PaLace. . ; . ; 
IV. DEaD OF NIGHT . ‘ 

V. MIDNIGHT (Faust’s Blinduess) . 


VIL GREAT OUTER COURT OF THE PALACE (Faust’s 
Death) . «© «© «© «6  . - + 292 


VII. MounTaIn-Gorces, Forest, RocK, DESERT 305 


PS 


NOTES ee ee ee a a ne em 





PSD Be 


SECOND PART OF THE TRAGEDY. 


IN FIVE ACTS. 


a 


VOL. IL. 3 





A PLEASANT LANDSCAPE. 


TWILIGHT. 


Faust, bedded on flowery turf, fatigued, restless, endeavoring 
to sleep. Circle of hovering spirits in motion: graceful, 
diminutive figures. 

ARIEL." 
(Chant, accompanied by AEolian harps.) 
HEN the Spring returns serener 

Raining blossoms over all ; 
When the fields with blessing greener 
On the earth-born children call; 
Then the craft of elves propitious 
Hastes to help where help it can: 
Be he holy, be he vicious, 
Pity they the luckless man. 


Who round this head in airy circles hover, 
Yourselves in guise of noble Elves discover ! 
The fierce convulsions of his heart compose ; 
Remove the burning barbs of his remorses, 


FAUST. 


And cleanse his being from the suffered woes! 

Four pauses makes the Night upon her courses,? 
And now, delay not, let them kindly close! 

First on the coolest pillow let him slumber, 

Then sprinkle him with Lethe’s drowsy spray ! 

His limbs no more shall cramps and chills encumber, 
When sleep has made him strong to meet the day. 
Perform, ye Elves, your fairest rite: 

Restore him to the holy Light ! 


CHORUS 3 
(singly, by two or more, alternately and collectsvely). 


When around the green-girt meadow 
Balm the tepid winds exhale, 

Then in fragrance and in shadow 
Twilight spreads her misty veil : 
Whispers peace in accents cheery, 
Rocks the heart in childhood’s play, 
And upon these eyelids weary 

Shuts the golden gates of Day. 


Now the Night already darkles, 
Holy star succeeds to star; 
Dazzling lights and fainter sparkles 
Glimmer near and gleam afar : 
Glimmer here, the lake reflecting, 
Gleam in cloudless dark aboon ; 
While, the bliss of rest protecting, 
Reigns in pomp the perfect moon. 


Now the Hours are cancelled for thee, 
Pain and bliss have fled away : 
Thou art whole: let faith restore thee ! 
Trust the new, the rising Day! 


/ 
ACT 7. 


Vales grow green, and hills are lifting 
Through the shadow-rest of morn; 
And in waves of silver, drifting 

On to harvest, rolls the corn. 


Wouldst thou win desires unbounded, 
Yonder see the glory burn! 

Lightly is thy life surrounded — 
Sleep ’s a shell, to break and spurn! 
When the crowd sways, unbelieving, 
Show the daring will that warms! 

He is crowned with all achieving, 
Who perceives and then performs. 


(4 tremendous tumult announces the approach of the Sun.) 


ARIEL. 


Hearken! Hark!—the Hours careering! 
Sounding loud to spirit-hearing, 

See the new-born Day appearing! 
Rocky portals jarring shatter, 
Phcebus’ wheels in rolling clatter, 
With a crash the Light draws near !4 
Pealing rays and trumpet-blazes, — 
Eye is blinded, ear amazes : 

The Unheard can no one hear ! 

Slip within each blossom-bell, 
Deeper, deeper, there to dwell, — 

In the rocks, beneath the leaf! 

If it strikes you, you are deaf. 


FAUST. 
Life’s pulses now with fresher force awaken 
To greet the mild ethereal twilight o’er me; 
This night, thou, Earth! hast also stood unshaken, 
And now thou breathest new-refreshed before me, 


6 FAUST, 


And now beginnest, all thy gladness granting, 

A vigorous resolution to restore me, 

To seek that highest life for which I ’m panting. — 
The world unfolded lies in twilight glimmer, 

A thousand voices in the grove are chanting; 

Vale in, vale out, the misty streaks grow dimmer; 
The deeps with heavenly light are penetrated ; 
The boughs, refreshed, lift up their leafy shimmer 
From gulfs of air where sleepily they waited ; 
Color on color from the background cleareth, 
Where flower and leaf with trembling pearls are freighted: 
And all around a Paradise appeareth. 


Look up! — The mountain summits, grand, supernal,s 
Herald, e’en now, the solemn hour that neareth ; 
They earliest enjoy the light eternal 

That later sinks, till here below we find it. 

Now to the Alpine meadows, sloping vernal, 

A newer beam descends ere we divined it, 

And step by step unto the base hath bounded: 

The sun comes forth! Alas, already blinded, 

I turn away, with eyesight pierced and wounded ! 


’T is thus, when, unto yearning hope’s endeavor, 
Its highest wish on sweet attainment grounded, 
The portals of fulfilment widely sever : 

But if there burst from those eternal spaces 

A flood of flame, we stand confounded ever ; 

For Life’s pure torch we sought the shining traces, 
And seas of fire— and what a fire ! — surprise us. 
Is ’t Love? . Is’t Hate? that burningly embraces, 
And that with pain and joy alternate tries us? 

So that, our glances once more earthward throwing, 
We seek in youthful drapery to disguise us. 





ACT I. 5 


Behina me, therefore, let the sun be glowing! 

The cataract, between the crags deep-riven, 

I thus behold with rapture ever-growing. 

From plunge to plunge in thousand streams ’t is given, 
And yet a thousand, to the valleys shaded, 

While foam and spray in air are whirled and driven. 
Yet how superb, across the tumult braided, 

The painted rainbow’s changeful life is bending, 
Now clearly drawn, dissolving now and faded, 

And evermore the showers of dew descending ! 

Of human striving there ’s no symbol fuller : 
Consider, and ’t is easy comprehending — 

Life is not light, but the refracted color.‘ 





3 FAUST. 


II. 


THE EMPEROR’S CASTLE. 
HALL OF THE THRONE. 


COUNCIL OF STATE AWAITING THE EMPEROR. 


Trumpets. 


Enter Court RETAINERS of all hinds, splendidly dressed. 
The EMPEROR advances to the throne: the ASTROLOGER 
on his right hand. 


EMPEROR.’ 


GREET you, Well-beloved and Trusty, 
Assembled here from far and wide! 

I see the Wise Man at my side; 

But where ’s the Fool, his rival lusty ? 


SQUIRE. 
Behind thy mantle’s flowing swell 
Suddenly on the stairs he fell: 
They bore away the weight of fat; 
If dead, or drunk? none knoweth that. 


SECOND SQUIRE. 
As quick as thought, through all the pother 
Him to replace there came another, 
Adorned and prinked with wondrous art, 
Yet so grotesque that all men start. 





ACT 7. 9 


The guards their halberds cross-wise hold 
To bar him — them he thrusts apart: 
Lo! here he comes, the Fool so bold! 


MEPHISTOPHELES (dnceling before the throne). 


What ’s cursed and welcomely expected ?® 
What is desired, yet always chased ? 
What evermore with care protected ? 
What is accused, condemned, disgraced ? 
To whom dar’st thou not give a hearing? 
Whose name hears each man willingly ? 
What is ’t, before thy throne appearing? 
What keeps itself away from thee ? 


EMPEROR. 
Spare us thy words! the time is pressing ; 
This is no place for riddle-guessing : 
These gentlemen such things explain. 
Solve it thyself !— to hear I’m fain. 
My old Fool went, I fear, an endless distance ; 
Take thou his place, come here and lend assistance ! 


JMEPHISTOPHELES goes up and stations himself on the Em 
PEROR’S /e/t hand.) 


MURMURS OF THE CROWD.9 


Another fool — for worries new ! — 

Whence came he ? — how did he get through ? 
The old one fell — he ’s walked his path. — 
He was a barrel — this, a lath! 


EMPEROR. 
So now, my Well-beloved and Loyal, 
Be welcome all, from near and far ! 
You meet beneath a fortunate star ; 


Welfare and luck are now the aspects royal. 
1% 


10 


FA OST. 


But tell me why, in days so fair,” 

When we’ve withdrawn ourselves from care, 
And beards of beauty masquerading wear, — 
When gay delights for us are waiting, 

Why should we plague ourselves, deliberating ? 
Yet, since the task you think we cannot shun, 
"T is settled then, so be it done! 


CHANCELLOR. 


The highest virtue, like a halo-zone 

Circles the Emperor’s head ; and he alone 

Is worthy validly to exercise it. 

*T is Justice !— all men love and prize it, 

None can forego, but all require and want it: 
The people look to him, that he should grant it. 
But, ah! what help can human wit impart, 

Or readiness of hand, or kindly heart, 

When lies the State, as if in fever fretting, 

And brooded Evil evil is begetting ? 

Who looks abroad from off this height supreme 
Throughout the realm, ’t is like a weary dream, 
Where one deformity another mouldeth, 

Where lawlessness itself by law upholdeth, 
And ’t is an age of Error that unfoldeth ! 


One plunders flocks, a woman one, 

Cup, cross, and candlestick from altar, 
And then to boast it does not palter, 

Of limb or life nowise undone. 

To Court behold the plaintiffs urging, 
Where puffs the judge on cushions warm, 
And swells, meanwhile, with fury surging, 
Rebellion’s fast-increasing storm ! 

His easy way through crime is broken, 
Who his accomplices selects ; 


ACT I. I$ 


And “Guilty !” hears one only spoken 
Where Innocence itself protects. 

They all pull down what they should care for, = 
Destroy their weal, in self-despite : 
How can the sense develop, therefore, 
Which, only, leads us to the Right ? 
At last, the man of good intent 

To flatterer and briber bendeth ; 

The judge, debarred from punishment, 
Mates with the felon, ere he endeth. 

I ve painted black, but denser screen 
I’d rather draw before the scene. 


( Pause.) 


Here measures cannot be evaded ; 
When all offend, and none are aided, 
His Majesty a victim stands. 


GENERAL-IN-CHIEF. 


In these wild days, how discords thicken ! 
Each strikes and in return is stricken, 

And they are deaf to all commands. 

The burgher in his fortifications, 

The knight upon his rocky nest, 

Have sworn to worry out our patience 

And keep their strength with stubborn crest. 
The mercenaries, no whit better, 
Impatiently demand their pay, 

And, if we were not still their debtor, 

They ’d start forthwith and march away. 

Let one forbid what all would practise 

And in a hornet’s nest he stands : 

The realm which they should guard, the facv 1s, 
7T is devastated by their hands. 

They give the rein to wild disorder, 


FAUST. 





And half the world is wasted now ; 
There still are kings beyond our border, 
But none thinks it concerns him anyhow. 


TREASURER. 


Trust allies, and we soon shall rue us! 
The subsidies they promised to us — 

Like water in leaky pipes — don’t come. 
Then, Sire, in all thy states extended 

To whom hath now the rule descended ? 
Where’er one goes, a new lord is at home, 
And hopes to live in independence ; 

He takes his course and we look on: 

Such rights we ’ve given to our attendants 
That all ovr right to anything is gone. 

On parties, too, whate’er the name be, 
Our trust, to-day, is far from great ; 
Though loud their praise or fierce their blame be, 
Indifferent is their love and hate. 

The Ghibellines and Guelfs from labor 
Are resting — both laid on the shelf. 

Who, therefore, now will help his neighbor? 
Each has enough, to help himself. 

The gate of gold no more unlatches, 

And each one gathers, digs, and scratches, 
While our strong-box is void indeed. 


LORD HIGH STEWARD. 
What evil I, as well, am having! 
We 're always trying to be saving, 
And ever greater is our need: 
Thus daily grows this task of mine. 
The cooks have all they want at present, — 
Wild-boar and deer, and hare and pheasant, 
Duck, peacock, turkey, goose, and chicken: 


ACT I. 13 


These, paid in kind, are certain picking, 

And do not seriously decline; 

Yet, after all, we ’re.short of wine. 

Where casks on casks were once our cellars filling, 
Rare vintages of flavors finely thrilling, 

The noble lords’ eternal swilling 

Has drained them off, till not a drop appears. 
The City Council, too, must tap their liquor ; 
They drink from mug, and jug, and beaker, 
Till no one longer sees or hears. 

*T is I must pay for all the dances ; 

The Jew will have me, past all chances ; 

His notes of hand and his advances 

Will soon eat up the coming years. 

Before they ’re fat the swine are taken ; 
Pawned is the pillow, ere one waken, 

The bread is eaten ere the board it sees. 


THE EMPEROR 
(after some reflection, to MEPHISTOPHELES). 


Say, Fool, canst thou not add a want to these? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


I? Notatall! I see the circling splendor — 
Thyself, and thine! Should one his trust surrender, 
Where Majesty thus unopposed commands, 

Where ready power the hostile force disbands, 
Where loyal wills, through understanding strong, 
And mixed activities, around thee throng ? 

What powers for evil could one see combining, — 
For darkness, where such brilliant stars are shining? 


MURMURS. 


He is a scamp — who comprehends. — 
He lies his way — until it ends. — 


14 FAUST. 


I know it now — what ’s in his mind. — 
What then ?— A project lurks behind! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Where, in this world, doth not some lack appear? 
Here this, there that, — but money’s lacking here. 
True, from the floor you can’t at once collect it, 
But, deepliest hidden, wisdom may detect it. 

In veins of mountains, under building-bases, 
Coined and uncoined, there ’s gold in many places: 
And ask you who shall bring it to the light ? 

A man endowed with Mind’s and Nature’s might. 


CHANCELLOR. 


Nature and Mind —to Christians we don’t speak sa 
Thence to burn Atheists we seek so, 

For such discourses very dangerous be. 
Nature is Sin, and Mind is Devil: 

Doubt they beget in shameless revel, 

Their hybrid in deformity. 

Not so with us ! — Two only races 

Have in the Empire kept their places, 

And prop the throne with worthy weight. 
The Saints and Knights are they :" together 
They breast each spell of thunder-weather, 
And take for pay the Church and State. 

The vulgar minds that breed confusion 

Are met with an opposing hand: 

They ’re wizards !— heretics! Delusion 
Through them will ruin town and land. 

And these will you, with brazen juggle, 
Within this high assembly smuggle ? 

For hearts corrupt you scheme and struggle ; 
The Fool’s near kin are all the band. 





ACT 1. 15 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
By that, I know the learned lord you are! 
What you don’t touch, is lying leagues afar ; 
What you don’t grasp, is wholly lost to you; 
What you don’t reckon, think you, can’t be true; 
What you don’t weigh, it has no weight, alas! 
What you don’t coin, you ’re sure it will not pass. 


EMPEROR. 
Therewith to help our needs you naught determine. 
What wilt thou, here, with such a Lenten sermon? 
I ’m tired of the eternal If and How: 
Money we want: good, then, procure it now! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
I "ll furnish what you wish, and more: ’t is, true, 
A light task, but light things are hard to do. 
The gold’s on hand, — yet, skilfully to win it, 
That is the art: who knows how to begin it ? 
Consider only, in those days of blood 
When o’er the Empire poured a human flood, 
How many men, such deadly terror steeled them, 
Took their best goods, and here and there concealed 
them! 
*T was so beneath the mighty Roman sway, 
And ever so repeated, till our day. 
All that was buried in the earth, to save it: 
The Emperor owns the earth, and he should have it 


TREASURER. 


Now, for a Fool, his words are rather bright: 
That is indeed the old Imperial right. 


CHANCELLOR. 
Satan has laid his golden snares, to try us ; 
Such things as these are neither right nor pious. 


16 FAUST. 


LORD HIGH STEWARD. 
Let him but bring his gifts to Court, and share them, 
And if things were a little wrong, I ’d bear them! 


GENERAL-IN-CHIEF. 
The Fool is shrewd, to promise each his needs ; 
Whence it may come the soldier never heeds. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
And should you think, perchance, I overreach you, 
Here ’s the Astrologer — ask him to teach you! 
The spheres of Hour and House are in his ken: ™ 
What are the heavenly aspects ? — tell us, then! 


MURMURS. 
Two rogues are they, — in league they ’ve grown, 
Dreamer and Fool — so near the throne! 
The song is old— and flatly sung. — 
The Fool he prompts — the Wise Man’s tongue ! 


ASTROLOGER 


(speaks : MEPHISTOPHELES prompts). 
The Sun himself is gold of purest ray ; 
The herald, Mercury, serves for love and pay ; 
Dame Venus has bewitched you all, for she, 
Early and late, looks on you lovingly ; 
Chaste Luna has her whims, no two alike ; 
Mars threatens you, although he may not strike, 
And Jupiter is still the splendid star. 
Saturn is great, though seeming small and far: 
As metal, him we don’t much venerate, 
Of value slight, though heavy in his weight. 
Now, when of Sol and Luna union’s had, — 
Silver with gold, — then is the world made glad: 
All else, with them, is easy to attain, — 
Palaces, gardens, cheeks of rosy stain ; 


ACT 7. 7 


And these procures this highly learned man, 
Who that can do which none of us e’er can. 


EMPEROR. 


Two meanings in his words | find, 
And yet they don’t convince my mind. 


MURMURS. 


Why tell us that ?— stuff stale and flat! 

*T is quackery! — ’t is chemistry ! 

I ve heard the strain— and hoped in vain, ~ 
And though it come —’t is all a hum. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
They stand around, amazed, unknowing; 
They do not trust the treasure-spell ; 
One dreams of mandrake, nightly growing, 
The other of the dog of Hell. 
Why, then, should one suspect bewitching, 
And why the other jest and prate, 
When in their feet, they, too, shall feel the itching, 
When they shall walk with tottering gait ? 


All feel the secret operation 

Of Nature’s ever-ruling might, 

And from the bases of Creation 

A living track winds up to light. 

In every limb when something twitches 
In any place uncanny, old, — 

Decide at once, and dig for riches ! 
There lies the fiddler, there the gold!" 


MURMURS. 
It hangs like lead my feet about. — 
I’ve cramp i’ the arm — but that is gout. — 
B 


18 


FAUST. 


I ve tickling in the greater toe. — 

Down all my back it pains me so. — 
From signs like these ’t is very clear 
The richest treasure-ground is here. 


EMPEROR. 


Haste, then! Thou ’It not again make off! 
Test now thy frothy, lying graces, 

And show at once the golden places! 

My sword and sceptre I will doff, 

Mine own imperial hands | ’ll lend thee, 

If thou liest not, therein befriend thee, 
But, if thou liest, to Hell will send thee! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


I ’d find, in any case, the pathway there ! — 
Yet I cannot enough declare 

What, ownerless, waits everywhere. 

The farmer, following his share, 

Turns out a gold-crock with the mould : 

He seeks saltpetre where the clay-walls stand,: 
And findeth rolls of goldenest gold, 

With joyful fright, in his impoverished hand. 
What vaults there are to be exploded, 

Along what shafts and mines corroded, 

The gold-diviner’s steps are goaded, 

Until the Under-world is nigh ! 

In cellars vast he sees the precious 

Cups, beakers, vases, plates, and dishes, 
Row after row, resplendent lie: 

Rich goblets, cut from rubies, stand there, 
And, would he use them, lo! at hand there 
Is ancient juice of strength divine. 

Yet, trust to him who ’s knowledge gotten, 
The wood o’ the staves has long been rotten, 


ACT JI. 19 


A cask of tartar holds the wine.*s 

Not only gold and gems are hiding, 

But of proud wines the heart abiding, 

In terror and in night profound: 

Herein assiduously expiore the wise ; 

It is a farce, by day to recognize, 

But mysteries are with darkness circled round. 


EMPEROR. 


See thou to them! What profits the Obscure? 
Whate’er has value comes to daylight, sure. 

At dead of night who can the rogue betray? 

Then all the cows are black, the cats are gray. 

If pots are down there, full of heavy gold, 

Drive on thy plough and turn them from the mould! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Take hoe and spade thyself, I pray thee, — 
Thou shalt be great through peasant-toil ! 

A herd of golden calves, to pay thee, 

Will loose their bodies from the soil. 

And then at once canst thou, with rapture, 
Gems for thyself and for thy mistress capture: 
Their tints and sparkles heighten the degree 
Of Beauty as of Majesty. 


EMPEROR. 
Then quick! at once! how Iong will it require? 


ASTROLOGER 
(prompted by MEPHISTOPHELES). 
Sire, moderate such urgence of desire ! 


Let first the gay, the motley pastime end ! 
Not to the goal doth such distraction tend. 


20 


FA UST. 


First self-command must quiet and assure us ; 
The upper things the lower will procure us. 
Who seeks for Good, must first be good; 

Who seeks for joy, must moderate his blood ; 
Who wine desires, let him the ripe grapes tread; 
Who miracles, by stronger faith be led! 


EMPEROR. 


Let us the time in merriment efface! 
And, to our wish, Ash-Wednesday comes apace. 
Meanwhile, we ’ll surely celebrate withal 
More jovially the maddening Carnival. 
[Zrumpets. Hxeunt. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


How closely linked are Luck and Merit, 
Doth never to these fools occur: 

Had they the Philosopher’s Stone, I swear it, 
The Stone would lack the Philosopher ! 


ACT I. er 


III. 


SPACIOUS HALL. 


WITH ADJOINING APARTMENTS 
Arranged and Decorated for the Carnival Masquerade.© 


HERALD. 


HINK not, as in our German bounds, your chance is 
Of Death’s or Fools’ or Devils’ dances: 
Here cheerful revels you await. 
Our Ruler, on his Roman expedition, 
Hath for his profit, your fruition, 
Crossed o’er the Alpine high partition, 
And won himself a gayer State. 
He to the holy slipper bowed him 
And first the right of power besought ; 
Then, as he went to get the Crown allowed him, 
For us the Fool’s-cap he has also brought. 
Now are we all new-born, to wear it: 
Each tactful and experienced man, 
Drawn cosily o’er head and ears, doth bear it; ° 
A fool he seems, yet he must share it, 
And be, thereby, as sober as he can. 
They crowding come, | see already, 
Close coupling, or withdrawn unsteady, — 
The choruses, like youth from school. 
Come in or out, bring on your ranks! 
Before or after — ’t is the rule — 
With all its hundred thousand pranks, 
The World is one enormous Fool ! 


FAUST. 


GARDEN-GIRLS.”’ 
(Song, accompanied with mandolines.) 


That we win your praises tender 
We are decked in festa] gear; 

At the German Court of splendor, 
Girls of Florence, we appear. 


On our locks of chestnut glosses 
Wear we many a flowery bell ; 
Silken threads and silken flosses 
Here must play their parts, as well. 


Our desert, not over-rated, 

Seems to us assured and clear, 
For by art we ’ve fabricated 
Flowers that blossom all the year. 


Every sort of colored snipping 
Won its own symmetric right: 
Though your wit on each be tripping, 
In the whole you take delight. 


We are fair to see and blooming, 
Garden-girls, and gay of heart; 
For the natural way of woman 
Is so near akin to art. 


HERALD. 


Let us see the wealth of blossoms 
Basket-crowning heads that bear them, 
Garlanding your arms and bosoms! 
Each select, and lightly wear them. 
Haste ! and bosky arbors dressing, 

Let a garden here enring us! 

Worthy they of closer pressing, 
Hucksters and the wares they bring us. 











ACT J. 23 


GARDEN-GIRLS. 


Now in cheerful places chaffer, 
But no marketing be ours ! 
Briefly, clearly, let each laugher 
Know the meaning of his flowers. 


OLIVE BRANCH, WITH FRUIT. 


Flowery sprays I do not covet; 
Strife I shun, or branch above it, 
Foe of conflict I remain. 

Yet am I the marrow of nations, 
Pledge of happy consummations, 
Sign of peace on every plain. 

Be, to-day, my lucky fate 
Worthy head to decorate! 


WREATH OF EARS (golden). 


You to crown, the gifts of Ceres 
Here their kindly grace have sent; 
Unto Use what chiefly dear is 

Be your fairest ornament! 


FANCY WREATH. 


Gayest blossoms, like to mallows, — 
From the moss a marvel grew ! 
Fashion calls to light, and hallows, 
That which Nature never knew. 


FANCY NOSEGAY. 


What our name is, Theophrastus ,, 
Would not dare to say: contrast us! 
Yet we hope to please you purely, 

If not all, yet many, surely, — 

Such as fain we ’d have possess us, 
Braiding us in shining tresses, 


24 FAUST. 


Or, a fairer fate deciding, 
On the heart find rest abiding. 


CHALLENGE. 


Motley fancies blossom may 

For the fashion of the day, 
Whimsical and strangely moulded, 
Such as Nature ne’er unfolded: 
Bells of gold and stems of green 
In the plenteous locks be seen ! — 
Yet we 


ROSEBUDS 


lie concealed behind ; 
Lucky, who shall freshly find! 
When the summer-time returneth, 
And the rosebud, bursting, burneth, } 
Who such blisses would surrender ? | 
Promise sweet, and yielding tender, | 
They, in Flora’s realm, control 
Swiftly eyes and sense and soul. 


Under green, leafy arcades, the GARDEN-GIRLS adorn and 
gracefully exhibit their wares ) 


GARDENERS.” 
(Song, accompanied with theorbos.) 


Blossoms there, that sprout in quiet, 

Round your heads their charms are weaving: 
But the fruits are not deceiving, 

One may try the mellow diet. 


Sunburnt faces tempt with glowing 
Cherries, peaches, plums, your vision : 
Buy! for vain the eye’s decision 

To the tongue’s and palate’s showing. 





ACT J. 25 


Ripest fruit from sunniest closes 

' Eat, with taste and pleasure smitten ! 
Poems one may write on roses, 
But the apple must be bitten. 


Then permit that we be mated 
With your youth, so flowery-fair : 
Thus is also decorated, 
Neighbor-like, our riper ware. 


Under wreaths of flowery tether, 

As the leafy arbors suit, 

All may then be found together, 

Buds and leaves, and flower and fruit! 


[With alternating songs, accompanied with mandolines and 
theorbos, both Choruses continue to set forth their wares upon 
steps rising aloft, and to offer them to the spectators.) 


MOTHER AND DAUGHTER.” 


MOTHER. 


Maiden, when thou cam’st to light, 
Tiny caps I wrought thee; 

Body tender, soft, and white, 
Lovely face I brought thee. 

As a bride I thought thee, led 

To the richest, wooed and wed, 
As a wife I thought thee. 


Ah! already many a year, 

Profitless, is over: 

None of all the wooers here 

Now around thee hover; 

Though with one wast wont to dance, 
VOL. II. 2 


26 FAUST, 


Gav’st another nudge and glance, — 
Hast not found thy lover! 





I to feast and revel thee 

Vainly took, to match one: 

Pawns, and hindmost man of three, 
Would not help thee snatch one. 
Every fool now wears his cap: 
Sweetheart, open thou thy lap! 
Still, perchance, mayst catch one ! 





[Other maiden-playmates, young and beautiful, join the garden- 
girls: the sound of familiar gossip ts heard. Fishers and 
bird-catchers, with nests, fisking-rods, limed twigs, and other 
implements, appear, and disperse themselves among the 
maidens. Reciprocal attempts to win, to catch, to escape, and 


to hold fast, give opportunity for the most agreeable dialogues.} 


WOOD-CUTTERS.” 
(Enter, boisterously and boorishly.) 

Room ! make a clearing ! 
Room in your revel! 
The trees we level 
That tumble cracking : 
Where we ’re appearing 
Look out for whacking. 
Our praise adjudging, 
Make clear this fable ! 
Save Coarse were drudging 
Within your borders, 
Would Fine be able 
To build their orders, 
Howe’er they fretted ? 
Be taught in season, 
For you ’d be freezing 
Had we not sweated ! 


ACT I. 


PULCINELLI 
(uncouth, almost idiotic) 


You, Fools, are trooping, 
Since birth so stooping ; 
The wise ones we are, 
From burdens freer. 
Our caps, though sleazy, 
And jackets breezy 

To wear are easy: 

It gives us pleasure 

To go with leisure, 

With slippered shuffles 
Through market-scuffles, 
To gape at the pother, 
Croak at each other! 
Through crowded places 
You always trace us, 
Eel-like gliding, 
Skipping and hiding, 
Storming together : 
Moreover, whether 

You praise — reprove us, 
It does n’t move us. 


PARASITES (/awningly-lustful). 


Ye woodland bandsmen, 
And they, your clansmen, 
The charcoal-burners, 

To you we turn us: 

For all such plodding, 
Affirmative nodding, 
Tortuous phrases, 
Blowing both ways — is 
Warming or chilling, 


27 


28 


FAUST. 


Just as you ’re feeling: 
What profit from it? 
There might fall fire, 
Enormous, dire, 

From heaven’s summit, 
Were there not billets 
And coal in wagons, 

To boil your skillets 
And warm your flagons. 
It roasts and frizzles ; 
It boils and sizzles ! 
The taster and picker, 
The platter-licker, 

He sniffs the roasting, 
Suspects the fishes, 
And clears, with boasting, 
His patron’s dishes. 


DRUNKEN MAN?3 (unconsciously). 


Naught, to-day, bring melancholy ! 
Since I feel so frank and free : 

Fresh delight and songs so jolly, 

And I brought them both with me! 
Thus I ’m drinking, drinking, drinking? 
Clink your glasses, clinking, clinking ! 
You behind there, join the rout! 

Clink them stout, and then it’s out! 


Though my wife assailed me loudly, 
Rumpled me through thin and thick; 
And, howe’er I swaggered proudly, 
Called me “ masquerading stick ”: 

Yet I’m drinking, drinking, drinking ! 
Clink your glasses! clinking, clinking ! 











ACT I. 29 


Masking sticks, another bout! - 
When you ’ve clinked them, drink them out} 


Say not mine a silly boast is! 

I am here in clover laid: 

Trusts the host not, trusts the hostess, — 
She refusing, trusts the maid. 

Still I’m drinking, drinking, drinking! 
Come, ye others, clinking, clinking! 
Each to each! keep up the rout! 

We, I’m thinking, drink them out. 


How and where my fun I ’m spying, 
Let me have it as I planned ! 

Let me lie where I am lying, 

For I cannot longer stand. 


CHORUS. 
Every chum be drinking, drinking! 
Toast afresh, with clinking, clinking! 
Bravely keep your seats, and shout! 
Under the table Ae ’s drunk out. 


[74e HERALD announces various Poets*%4+— Poets of Nature, 
Courtly and Knightly Minstrels, Sentimentaltsts as well as 
Enthusiasts. In the crowd of competitors of all kinds, no 
one allows another to commence his declamation. One slips 
past with a few words :] 


SATIRIST. 


Know ye what myself, the Poet, 
Would the most rejoice and cheer? 
If I dared to sing, and utter, 

That which no one wants to hear. 


39 - FAUST. 


[The Night and Churchyard Poets excuse themselves, because 
they have just become engaged in a most interesting conversa- 
tion with a newly-arisen vampire, and therefrom a new 
school of poctry may possibly be developed. The HERALD és 
obliged to accept their excuses, and meanwhile calls forth the 
Grecian Mythology, which, even in modern masks, loses 
neither sts character nor its power to charm.] 


THE GRACES.’5 


AGLAIA. 
Life we bless with graces living ; 
So be graceful in your giving ! 


HEGEMONE. 


Graceful be in your receival ; 
Wish attained is sweet retrieval. 


EUPHROSYNE. 


And in days serene and spacious, 
In your thanks be chiefly gracious! 


THE Parcz.*% 


ATROPOS. 


I, the eldest, to the spinning 

Have received the invitation ; 

When the thread of Life’s beginning 
There is need of meditation. 


Finest flax I winnow featly 

That your thread be softly given ; 
Draw it through my fingers neatly, 
Make it thin, and smooth, and even. 


If too wanton your endeavor, 
Grasping here of joy each token, 


ACT 7. 31 


Think, the thread won’t stretch forever! 
Have a care! it might be broken. 


CLOTHO. 


Know that, given to me for wearing, 
Lately were the shears supplied ; 
Since men were not by the bearing 
Of our eldest edified. 


Useless webs she long untangled, 
Dragging them to air and light; 
Dreams of fortune, hope-bespangled, 
Clipped and buried out of sight. 


Also I, in ignorance idle, 

Made mistakes in younger years, 
But to-day, myself to bridle, 

In their sheath I stick the shears. 


Thus restrained in proper measure, 
Favor I this cheerful place: 

You these hours of liberal pleasure 
Use at will, and run your race! 


LACHESIS. 
In my hands, the only skilful, 
Was the ordered twisting placed; 
Active are my ways, not wilful, 
Erring not through over-haste. 


Threads are coming, threads are reeling; 
In its course I each restrain: 

None, from off the circle wheeling, 

Fails to fit within the skein. 


32 FAUST. 


If I once regardless gadded, 

For the world my hopes were vain: 
Hours are counted, years are added, 
And the weaver takes the chain. 


HERALD. 


You would not recognize who now appear, 

Though ne’er so learned you were in ancient writing ; 
To look at them, in evil so delighting, 

You ’d call them worthy guests, and welcome here. 


They are THE FURIES,” no one will believe us, — 
Fair, well-proportioned, friendly, young in years : 

But make acquaintance, and straightway appears 
How snake-like are such doves to wound, deceive us. 


Though they are spiteful, yet on this occasion, 
When every fool exults in all his blame, 

They also do not crave angelic fame, 

But own themselves the torments of the nation. 


ALECTO. 


What good of that, for you will trust us still! — 
Each of us young and fair, a wheedling kitten. 
Hath one of you a girl with whom he ’s smitten, 
We'll rub and softly stroke his ears, until 


*T is safe to tell him, spite of all his loathing, 
That she has also this and the other flame, — 

A blockhead he, or humpbacked, squint and lame, 
And if betrothed to him, she’s good-for-nothing ! 


We're skilled, as well, the bride to vex and sever: 
Why scarce a week ago, her very lover 


ACT J. 33 


Contemptuous things fo ker was saying of her! 
Though they make up, there’s something rankles ever. 


MEGZERA. 


That ’s a mere jest! For, let them once be married, 
I go to work, and can, in every case, 

The fairest bliss by wilful whims displace. 

Man has his various moods, the hours are varied, 


And, holding the Desired that once did charm him, 
Each for the More-desired, a yearning fool, 

Leaves the best fortune, use has rendered cool: 
He flies the sun, and seeks the frost to warm him. 


Of ills for all I understand the brewing, 
And here Asmodi as my follower lead,* 
To scatter mischief at the proper need, 
And send the human race, in pairs, to ruin. 


TISIPHONE. 


Steel and poison J, not malice, 
Mix and sharpen for the traitor : 
Lov’st thou others, soon or later, 
Ruin pours for thee the chalice. 


Through the moment’s sweet libation 
See the gall and wormwood stealing ! 
Here no bargaining, no dealing ! 
Like the act and retaliation. 


No one babble of forgiving ! - 
To the rocks I cry: Revenge / is 
Echo’s answer: he who changes 
Shall be missed among the living. 
2* c 





34 FAUST. 


HERALD. 


Do me the favor, now, to stand aside, 

For that which comes is not to you allied. 

You see a mountain pressing through the throng,” 
The flanks with brilliant housings grandly hung, 
A head with tusks, a snaky trunk below, — 

A mystery, yet I the key will show. 

A delicate woman sits upon his neck, 

And with a wand persuades him to her beck; 
The other, throned aloft, superb to see, 

Stands in a glory, dazzling, blinding me. 

Beside him walk two dames in chains ; one fearful 
And sore depressed, the other glad and cheerful. 
One longs for freedom and one feels she ’s free: 
Let each declare us who she be! 


FEAR. 


Smoky torches, lamps are gleaming 
Through the festal’s wildering train ; 
Ah ! amid these faces scheming 

I am fastened by my chain. 


Off, ridiculously merry ! 

I mistrust your grinning spite : 
Each relentless adversary 
Presses nearer in the night. 


Friend would here as foe waylay me, 
But I know the masking shapes ; 
Yonder ’s one that wished to slay me, — 
Now, discovered, he escapes. 


From the world I fain would wander 
Through whatever gate I find ; 
But perdition threatens yonder, 
And the horror holds my mind. 


ACT 1. 35 


HOPE. 


Good my sisters, I salute you! 
Though to-day already suit you, 
Masquerading thus demurely, 

Yet I know your purpose surely 

To reveal yourselves to-morrow. 
And if we, by torches lighted, 

Fail to feel a special pleasure, 

Yet in days of cheerful leisure, 

At our will, delight we ’ll borrow, 
Or alone or disunited 

Free through fairest pastures ranging, 
Rest and action interchanging, 

And in life no cares that fetter 

' Naught forego, but strive for better. 
Welcome guests are all around us, 
Let us mingle with the rest ! 
Surely, what is best hath found us, 
Or we ’ll somewhere find the best. 


PRUDENCE. 


Two of human foes, the greatest, 
Fear and Hope, I bind the faster, 
Thus to save you at the latest: 
Clear the way for me, their master. 


I conduct the live colossus, 
Turret-crowned with weighty masses 5 
And unweariedly he crosses, 

Step by step, the steepest passes. 


But a:oft the goddess planted, 
With her broad and ready pinions, 
Turns to spy where gain is granted 
Everywhere in Man’s dominions. 





36 


FA OST. 


Round her all is bright and glorious; 
Splendor streams on all her courses : 
Victory is she — the victorious 
Goddess of all active forces. 


ZOILO-THERSITES.” 


Ho! ho! I’ve hit the time of day. 
You ’re all together bad, I say! 

But what appeared my goal to me 

Is she up there, Dame Victory. 

She, with her snowy wings spread out, 
Thinks she ’s an eagle, past a doubt; 
And, wheresoever she may stir, 

That land and folk belong to her ; 

But when a famous thing is done 

I straightway put my harness on, 

To lift the low, the high upset, 

The bent to straighten, bend the straight, — 
That, only, gives my heart a glow, 
And on this earth I ’ll have it so. 


HERALD. 


Then take, thou beggar-cur, the blow, 
This magic baton’s stroke of skill! — 
So, twist and wriggle at thy will! 

See how the double dwarfish ape 
Rolls to a hideous ball in shape ! — 
A marvel! ’T is an egg we view; 

It puffs itself and cracks in two: 

A pair of twins come forth to day, 
The Adder and the Bat are they. 
Forth in the dust one winds and creeps; 
One darkly round the ceiling sweeps. 
They haste to join in company : 

The third therein I would not be! 


ACT J. 37 


MURMURS. 


Come! the dance is yonder gay. — 
No! I would I were away. — 
Feel’st thou how the phantom race 
Flits about us in this place ? — 
Something whizzes past my hair. — 
Round my feet I saw it fare. — 
None of us are injured, though. — 
But we all are frightened so. — 
Wholly spoiled is now the fun. — 
Which the vermin wanted done. 


HERALD. 
Since, as Herald, I am aiding 
At your merry masquerading, 
At the gate I ’m watching, fearful 
Lest within your revels cheerful 
Something slips of evil savor ; 
And I neither shrink nor waver. 
Yet, I fear, the airy spectres 
Enter, baffling all detectors, 
And from goblins that deceive you 
I ’m unable to relieve you. 
First, the dwarf became suspicious ; 
Now a mightier pageant issues 
Yonder, and it is my duty 
To explain those forms of beauty: 
But the thing I comprehend not, 
How can I its meaning mention? 
Help me to its comprehension ! 
Through the crowd you see it wend not? 
Lo! a four-horse chariot wondrous, 
Hither drawn, the tumult sunders ; 
Yet the crowd seems not to share in ’t — 
Nowhere is a crush apparent. 





38 


FAOST. 


Colored lights, in distance dimmer, 
Motley stars around it shimmer; 
Magic lantern-like they glimmer. 
On it storms, as to assault. 

Clear the way! I shudder! 


BOY CHARIOTEER. 


Halt! 
Steeds, restrain the eager pinion, 
Own the bridle’s old dominion, 
Check yourselves, as I desire you, 
Sweep away, when I inspire you! — 
Honor we these festal spaces! 
See, the fast increasing faces, 
Circles, full of admiration ! 
Herald, come! and in thy fashion, 
Ere we take from here our glories, 
Name us, and describe and show us! 
For we ’re naught but allegories, 
Therefore ’t is thy place to know us, 


HERALD. 


No, thy name from me is hidden, — 
Could describe thee, were I bidden. 


BOY CHARIOTEER. 


Try it! 
HERALD. 
Granted, at the start, 
Young and beautiful thou art, — 


A half-grown boy ; and yet the woman-nature 
Would rather see thee in completed stature. 
To me thou seem’st a future fickle wooer, 
Changing the old betrayed love for a newer. 





ACT 7. 39 


BOY CHARIOTEER. 


Go on! So far, ’t is very fine: 
Make the enigma’s gay solution thine ! 


HERALD. 


Black lightning of the eyes, the dark locks glowing,® 
Yet bright with jewelled anadem, 

And light thy robe as flower on stem, 

From shoulder unto buskin flowing 

With tinsel-braid and purple hem! 

One for a maiden might surmise thee, 

Yet, good or ill, as it might be, 

The maids, e’en now, would take and prize thee: 
They ’d teach thee soon thy A B C. 


BOY CHARIOTEER. 


And he, who like a splendid vision, 
Sits proudly on the chariot’s throne? 


HERALD. 


He seems a king, of mien Elysian ; 
Blest those, who may his favor own! 

No more has he to earn or capture ; 

His glance detects where aught ’s amiss, 
And to bestow his perfect rapture 

Is more than ownership and bliss. 


BOY CHARIOTEER. 


Thou darest not at this point desist: 
Describe him fully, I insist! 


HERALD. 
But undescribed is Dignity. 
The healthy, full-moon face I see, 
The ample mouth, the cheeks that fresher 
Shine out beneath his turban’s pressure, 


40 


FAUOST. 


Rich comfort in the robe he ’s wearing, — 
What shall I say of such a bearing? 
He seems, as ruler, known to me. 


BOY CHARIOTEER. 
Plutus, the God of Wealth, is he. 
He hither comes in proud attire; 
Much doth the Emperor him desire. 


HERALD. 
Of thee the WAat and How declare to me! 


BOY CHARIOTEER. 


I am Profusion, I am Poesy.# 

The Poet I, whose perfect crown is sent 
When he his own best goods hath freely spent. 
Yet, rich in mine unmeasured pelf, 

Like Plutus I esteem myself: 

I prank and cheer his festal show 

And whatsoe’er he lacks bestow. 


HERALD. 


Fresh charm to thee thy brag imparts, 
But let us now behold thine arts! 


BOY CHARIOTEER. 
Just see me fillip with my fingers! 
What brilliance round the chariot lingers, 
And there a string of pearls appears ! 


\continuing to fillip and snap his fingers in all directions :) 


Take golden spangles for neck and ears, 
Combs, and diadems free of flaw, 

And jewelled rings as ne’er ye saw! 

I also scatter flamelets bright, 

Awaiting where they may ignite. 


ACT I. 41 


HERALD. 


How strives the crowd with eager longing, 
Almost upon the giver thronging! 

As in a dream he snaps the toys; 

All catch and snatch with crush and noise. 
But now new tricks have I detected: 
What each has zealously collected 

His trouble doth but poorly pay ; 

The gifts take wings and fly away. 

The pearls are loosened from their band 
And beetles crawl within his hand; 

He shakes them off, and then instead, 
Poor dolt, they hum around his head! 
The others find their solid things 

Are butterflies with gaudy wings. 

How much the scamp to promise seems, 
And only gives what golden gleams !3 


BOY CHARIOTEER. 


Masks to announce, I grant, thou ’rt worthy ; 

But ’neath the shell of Being to bestir thee 

Is not a herald’s courtly task: 

A sharper sight for that we ask. 

Yet every quarrel I evade; 

To thee, my Chief, be speech and question made! 


( Zurning to PLUTUS.) 


Didst thou not unto me confide 

The tempest of the steeds I guide? 

Canst thou not on my guidance reckon? 
Am I not there, where thou dost beckon? 
And have I not, on pinions boldest, 
Conquered for thee the palm thou holdest? 
When in thy battles I have aided, 

I ever have been fortunate ; 


42 


FAUST. 


Thy brow when laurels decorate, 
Have I not them with hand and fancy braided ?™ 


PLUTUS. 
If there be need that I bear witness now, 
I ’m glad to say: soul of my soul art thou! 
Thine acts are always to my mind, 
And thou the richer art, I find. 
Thy service to reward, I hold 
The green bough higher than my crowns of gold. 
To all a true word spoken be: 
Dear Son, I much delight in thee. 


BOY CHARIOTEER (to the Crowd). 
The greatest gifts my hand flings out, 
See! I have scattered round about. 
On divers heads there glows the tongue 
Of flame which I upon them flung, — 
Leaps back and forth among the shapes, 
On this remains, from that escapes, 
But very seldom upward streams 
In transient flush of mellow beams; 
And unto many, ere they mark, 
It is extinct and leaves them dark. 


CHATTER OF WOMEN. 
Upon the chariot that man 
Is certainly a charlatan: 
There, perched behind, the clown is seen, 
From thirst and hunger grown so lean 
As one ne’er saw him; if you ’d pinch, 
He has n’t flesh to feel and flinch. 


THE STARVELING. 
Disgusting women, off! I know 
That when I come, you ’d have me go. 


ACT 7. 43 


When woman fed her own hearth-flame, 
Then Avaritia was my name ;35 

Then throve the household fresh and green, 
For naught went out and much came in. 
To chest and press I gave good heed, 

And that you ’d call a vice, indeed ! 

But since in later years, the fact is, 
Economy the wife won’t practise, 

And, like the host of spendthrift scholars, 
Has more desires than she has dollars, 
The husband much discomfort brooks, 

For there are debts where’er he looks. 

She spends what spoil she may recover 
Upon her body, or her lover; 

In luxury eats, and to excess 

Drinks with the flirts that round her press ; 
For me that raises money’s price: 

Male is my gender, Avarice ! 


LEADER OF THE WOMEN. 
With dragons, mean may be the dragon; 
It’s all, at best, but lying stuff! 
He comes, the men to spur and egg on, 
And now they ’re troublesome enough. 


CROWD OF WOMEN. 
The scarecrow! Knock him from the wagon! 
What means the fag, to threaten here? 
As if his ugly face we ’d fear! 
Of wood and pasteboard is each dragon: 
Come on — his words shall cost him dear! 


HERALD. 


Now, by my wand! Be still — let none stir! 
Yet for my help there ’s scarcely need ; 





FAUST. 


See how each grim and grisly monster, 
Clearing the space around with speed, 
Unfolds his fourfold wings of dread! 
The dragons shake themselves in anger, 
With flaming throats, and scaly clangor ; 
The place is clear, the crowd has fled. 


(PLUTUS descends from the chariot.) 


HERALD. 


How kingly comes he from above! 
He beckons, and the dragons move; 
Then from the chariot bring the chest 
With gold, and Avarice thereon. 

See, at his feet the load they rest ! 

A marvel ’t is, how it was done. 


PLUTUS (to the CHARIOTEER). 


Now thou hast left the onerous burden here, 
Thou ’rt wholly free: away to thine own sphere! 
Here it is not! Confused and wild, to-day, 
Distorted pictures press around our way. 

Where clear thy gaze in sweet serenity, 

Owning thyself, confiding but in thee, 

Thither, where Good and Beauty are unfurled, 
To Solitude !— and there create thy world! 


BOY CHARIOTEER. 


Thus, as an envoy, am I worthy of thee; 
Thus, as my next of kindred, do I love thee. 
Where thou art, is abundance; where I go 
Each sees a splendid profit round him grow. 
In inconsistent life each often wavers, 
Whether to seek from thee, or me, the favors. 
Thy followers may be indolent. ’t is true; 
Who follows me, has always work to do. 














ACT 1. 45 


y My deeds are never secret and concealed ; 
I only breathe, and I ’m at once revealed. } 
Farewell, then! Thou the bliss hast granted me; 
But whisper low, and I return to thee! 
[Zxit, as he came. 


PLUTUS. 


*T is time, now, to unchain the precious metals ! 
The padlocks with the herald’s wand I smite: 

The chest is opened: look! from iron kettles 

It pours like golden blood before your sight. 

It hoils, and threatens to devour, as fuel, 

Melting them, crown and ring and chain and jewel! 


ALTERNATE CRIES OF THE CROWD. 


See here, and there! they boil and swim; 
The chest is filling to the brim ! — 
Vessels of gold are burning there, 

And minted rolls are turning there, 
And dlucats jingle as they jump! — 

O, how my heart begins to thump! — 
All my desire I see, and more. 

They ’re rolling now along the floor. — 
*T is offered you: don’t be a dunce, 
Stoop only, and be rich at once !— 
Then, quick as lightning we, the rest, 
Will take possession of the chest. 


HERALD. 


What ails ye, fools? What mean ye all? 
*T is but a joke of Carnival. 

To-night be your desires controlled; 
Think you we ’d give you goods and gold? 
Why, in this game there come to view 
Too many counters even, for you. 


46 


FAUST. 


A pleasant cheat, ye dolts! forsooth 
You take at once for naked truth. 
What’s truth to you? Illusion bare 
Surrounds and rules you everywhere. 
Thou Plutus-mask, Chief unrevealed, 
Drive thou this people from the field! * 


PLUTUS. 
Thy wand thereto is fit and free; 
Lend it a little while to me! 
I dip it in the fiery brew, — 
Look out, ye maskers ! all of you. 
It shines, and snaps, and sparkles throws ; 
The burning wand already glows. 
Who crowdeth on, too near to me, 
Is burned and scorched relentlessly. — 
And now my circuit | ’ll commence. 


CRIES AND CROWDING. 
Woe’s me! We’re lost — there ’s no defence !~~ 
Let each one fly, if fly he can ! — 
Back! clear the way, you hindmost man! — 
It sparkles fiercely in mine eyes. — 
The burning wand upon me lies. — 
We all are lost, we all are lost ! — 
Back, back! ye maskers, jammed and tossed ! — 
Back, senseless crowd, away from there ! — 
O, had I wings, I ’d take the air. 


PLUTUS. 
Now is the circle crowded back, 
And none, I think, scorched very black. 
The throng retires, 
Scared by the fires. 
As guaranty for ordered law, 
A ring invisible I draw. 





ACT J. 47 


HERALD. 


A nobie work is thine, to-night : 
I thank thy wisdom and thy might. 


PLUTUS. 


Preserve thy patience, noble friend, 
For many tumults yet impend. 


AVARICE, 


Thus, if one pleases, pleasantly 

May one survey this circle stately ; 

For, ever foremost, crowd the women greatly, 
If aught to stare at, or to taste, there be. 
Not yet entirely rusty are my senses! 

A woman fair is always fair to me: 

And since, to-day, it makes me no expenses, 
We 'll go a courting confidently. 

But in a place so populate 

All words to every ear don’t penetrate ; 

So, wisely I attempt, and hope success, 
Myself by pantomime distinctly to express. 
Hand, foot, and gesture will not quite suffice, 
So I employ a jocular device. 

Like clay will I the gold manipulate ; 

One may transform it into any state. 


HERALD. 


What will the lean fool do ?37_ Has he, 
So dry a starveling, humor? See, 

He kneads the gold as it were dough ! 
Beneath his hands ’t is soft; yet, though 
He roll and squeeze it, for his pains 
Disfigured still the stuff remains. 

He turns to the women there, and they 
All scream, and try to get away, 


With gestures of disgust and loathing: 
The ready rascal stops at nothing. 

I fear he takes delight to see 

He has offended decency. 

J dare not silently endure it: 

Give me my wand, that I may cure it! 


PLUTUS. 
The danger from without he does not see: 
Let him alone; his Fool’s-hour fast is waning. 
There ’ll be no space for his mad pranks remaining; 
Mighty is Law, mightier Necessity. 


TUMULT AND SONG. 
The savage hosts, with shout and hail, 
From mountain-height and forest-vale 
Come, irresistibly as Fate: 
Their mighty Pan they celebrate. 
They know, forsooth, what none can guess, 
And in the empty circle press. 


PLUTUS. 


I know you well, and your illustrious Pan! 
Boldly together you ’ve performed your plan. 
Full well I know what every one does not, 
And clear for you, as duty bids, the spot. 

Be Fortune still her favor lending! 

The strangest things may here be bred: 
They know not whitherward they ’re wending, 
Because they have not looked ahead.¥* 


SAVAGE SONG. 
Furbished people, tinsel-stuff ! 
They ’re coming rude, they ’re coming rough; 
In mighty leap, in wildest race, 
Coarse and strong they take their place. 











ACT TI. 4G 


FAUNS. 
Fauns, pair on pair, 
Come dancing down, 
With oaken crown 
On crispy hair; 
The fine and pointed ear is seen, 
Leaf-like, the clustering curls between: 
A stubby nose, face broad and fiat, 
The women don’t object to that; 
For when his paw holds forth the Faun, 
The fairest to the dance is drawn. 


SATYR. 


See now, behind, the Satyr skip, 
With foot of goat, lean leg and hip, — 
Lean and sinewy must they be: 

For, chamois-like, on mountains he 
Loveth to stand or scamper free. 
Then, strong in freedom of the skies, 
Child, wife, and man doth he despise, 
Who, deep in the valley’s smoke and steam 
That they live also, snugly dream ; 
While, pure and undisturbed, alone 
The upper world is all his own. 


GNOMES.” 


The little crowd comes tripping there ; 

They don’t associate pair by pair. 

In mossy garb, with lantern bright, 

They move commingling, brisk and light, 

Each working on his separate ground, 

Like firefly-emmets swarming round; 

And press and gather here and there, 

Always industrious everywhere. 

With the “Good People” kin we own; 
VOL. II. 3 D 


go 


FAUST. 


As surgeons of the rocks we ’re known. 
Cupping the mountains, bleeding them 

From fullest veins, depleting them 

Of store of metals, which we pile, 

And merrily greet: “Good cheer!” the while 
Well-meant the words, believe us, then! 

We are the friends of all good men. 

Yet we the stores of gold unseal 

That men may pander, pimp, and steal; 

Nor iron shall fail his haughty hand 

Who universal murder planned : 

And who these three Commandments breaks 
But little heed o’ the others takes. 

For that we ’re not responsible : 

We ’re patient — be you, too, as well! 


GIANTS. 


The wild men of the woods they ’re named, 
And in the Hartz are known and famed ; 
In naked nature’s ancient might 

They come, each one a giant wight, 

With fir-tree trunk in brawny hand, 
Around the loins a puffy band, 

The merest apron of leaf and bough : — 
The Pope hath no such guards, I trow. 


NYMPHS IN CHORUS. 
( They surround the great PAN.) 


He comes! We scan 

The world’s great All, 

Whose part doth fall 

To mighty Pan. 

Ye gayest ones, advance to him, 

Your maddest measures dance to him! 
Since serious and kind is he, 














ACT 7. 51 


He wills that we should joyous be. 
Under the blue, o’er-vaulting roof, 
Ever he seemeth slumber-proof ; 

Yet murmurs of the brooks he knows, 
And soft airs lull him to repose. 

At midday sleeping, o’er his brow 
The leaf is moveless on the bough: 

Of healthy buds tne balsam there 
Pervades the still, suspended air: 

The nymph no longer dares to leap, 
And where she stands, she falls asleep, 
But when, all unexpected, he 

Maketh his voice heard terribly, 

Like rattling thunder, roar of wave, 
Then each one seeks himself to save; 
The serried ranks disperse in fright, 
The hero trembles in the fight. 

Then honor to whom the honor is due, 
And hail to him who led us to you! 


DEPUTATION OF GNOMES 
(to the great PAN). 
When the rich possession, shining 
Through the rocks in thread and vein, 
To the skilful wand’s divining 
Shows its labyrinthine chain, 


We in vaults and caverns spacious, 
Troglodytes, contented bide ; 
While in purest daylight, gracious, 
Thou the treasures dost divide. 


Now we see, wilt thou believe us, 
Here a wondrous fountain run, 
Promising with ease to give us 
What was hardly to be won. 





52 


FA OST. 


Lo! It waits for thy attaining: 
Then be moved to break the spell! 
All the wealth which thou art gaining 
Profits all the world as well. 


PLUTUS (fo the HERALD). 
We, in the highest sense, must be collected, 
And let what say come, come, though unexpected, 
Thy courage has not yet been counted short : 
The fearful thing we now shall see will try it; 
The world and History will both deny it, 
So write it faithfully in thy report! 


HERALD. 


(Grasping the wand which Puurus holds in his hand.) 


The dwarfs conduct the great Pan nigher, 
Yet gently, to the fount of fire. 

It bubbles from the throat profound, 
Then sinks, retreating, to the ground, 
And dark the open crater shows ; 

And then again it boils and glows. 

Great Pan in cheerful mood stands by, 
Rejoiced the wondrous things to spy, 
And right and left the foam-pearls fly. 
How can he in the cheat confide? 

He bends and stoops, to look inside. — 
But now, behold! his beard falls in: 
Whose is that smoothly-shaven chin ? 
His hand conceals it from our sight. 
What follows is a luckless plight ; 

The beard, on fire, flies back to smite 
His wreath and head and breast with flame: 
To pain is turned the merry game. 

They haste to quench the fire, but none 
The swiftly -kindling flames can shun, 








ae 


— om 


ACT 7. 53 


That flash and dart on other heads 

Till wide the conflagration spreads : 
Wrapped in the element, in turn 

The masking groups take fire and burn. 
But hark! what news is bruited here 
From mouth to mouth, from ear to ear? 
O evermore ill-fated night, 

That brings to us such woe and blight ! 
To-morrow will proclaim to all 

What no one wishes to befall, 

For everywhere the cry I hear: 

“The Emperor suffers pain severe!” 

O were the proclamation wrong ! 

The Emperor burns and all his throng.# 
Accurst be they who him misled, 

With resinous twigs on breast and head, 
To rave and bellow hither so, 

To general, fatal overthrow. 

O Youth! O Youth! wilt never thou 
Limit thy draught of joy, in season? — 
O Majesty, wilt never thou, 
Omnipotent, direct with reason ? 

The mimic woods enkindled are ; 

The pointed tongues lick upward far 
To where the rafters interlace: 

A fiery doom hangs o’er the place. 

Our cup of misery overflows, 

For who shall save us no one knows. 
The ash-heap of a night shall hide, 
To-morrow, this imperial pride. 


PLUTUS. 


Terror is enough created ; 
Now be help inaugurated ! 
Smite, thou hallowed wand, and make 


54 


FA OST. 


Earth beneath thee peal and quake ! 
Thou, the spacious breadth of air, 
Cooling vapors breathe and bear ! 
Hither speed, around us growing, 
Misty films and belts o’erflowing, 
And the fiery tumult tame ! 

Trickle, whisper, clouds, be crisper, 
Roll in masses, softly drenching, 
Mantling everywhere, and quenching! 
Ye, the moist, the broadly bright’ning, 
Change to harmless summer lightning 
All this empty sport of flame ! — 
When by spirits we ’re molested, 
Then be Magic manifested. 





ACT £. | 55 


IV. 


PLEASURE-GARDEN. 


THE MORNING SUN. 


The EMPEROR, Ass Court, Gentlemen and Ladies: FAvust, 
MEPHISTOPHELES, becomingly, according to the mode, not 
showtly dressed: both kneel. 


. FAUST. 
GRRE pardon’st thou the jugglery of flame? 


. EMPEROR (beckoning him to rise). 


I wish more exhibitions of the same. 

A-sudden stood I in a glowing sphere ; 

It almost seemed as if I Pluto were. 

There lay, like night, with little fires besprent, 

A rocky bottom. Out of many a vent, 

Whirling, a thousand savage flames ascended, 
Till in a single vault their streamers blended. 
The tongues even to the highest dome were shot, 
That ever was, and ever then was not. 

Through the far space of spiral shafts of flame 
The long processions of the people came ; 
Crowding, till all the circle was o’errun, 

They did me homage, as they ’ve ever done. 
Some from my Court I knew: to speak with candor, 
A Prince I seemed o’er many a salamander. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


That art thou, Sire! Because each element 
Fully accepts thy Majesty’s intent. 


56 FAUST. 


Obedient Fire is tested now by thee : 

Where wildest heaving, leap into the Sea, 

And scarce the pearly floor thy foot shall tread, 

A grand rotunda rises o’er thy head: 

Thou seest the green, translucent billows swelling, 
With purple edge, for thy delightful dwelling, 
Round thee, the central point. Walk thou at will, 
The liquid palaces go with thee still! | 

The very walls rejoice in life, disporting 

In arrowy flight, in chasing and consorting : 
Sea-marvels crowd around thé glory new and fair, 
Shoot from all sides, yet none can enter there. 
There gorgeous dragons, golden-armored, float ; 
There gapes the shark, thou laughest in his throat. 
However much this Court thy pride may please, 
Yet hast thou never seen such throngs as these. 
Nor from the loveliest shalt thou long be parted; 
The curious Nereids come, the wild, shy-hearted, 
To thy bright dwelling in the endless waters, — 
Timid and sly as fish the youngest daughters, 
The elder cunning: Thetis hears the news 

And will, at once, her second Peleus choose. 

The seat, then, on Olympus high and free — 


EMPEROR. 


The spaces of the air I leave to thee: 
One all too early must ascend that throne. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
And Earth, high Prince! already is thine own. 


EMPEROR. 
What fortune brought thee here, for our delights, 
Directly from the One and Thousand Nights ? 
If thou like Scheherazade art rich in stories, 





ACT 7. 57 


My favor shall insure thee higher glories. 
Be ready always, when your world of day, 
As often haps, disgusts me every way ! 


LORD HIGH STEWARD (enters hastily). 


Highness Serene, I never dared expect 

To trumpet forth a fortune so select 

As this, supremely blessing me, 

Which I announce with joy to thee: 
Reckoning on reckoning ’s balanced squarely ; 
The usurer’s claws are blunted rarely ; 

I’m from my hellish worry free : 

Things can’t in Heaven more cheerful be. 


GENERAL-IN-CHIEF (follows hastily). 


Arrears of pay are settled duly, 

The army is enlisted newly ; 

The trooper’s blood is all alive, 

The landlords and the wenches thrive. 


EMPEROR. 


How breathe your breasts in broader spaces ! 
How cheerful are your furrowed faces! 
How ye advance with nimble speed ! 


TREASURER (appearing). 
Ask these, ’t is they have done the deed! 


FAUST. 
It is the Chancellor’s place the matter to present. 


CHANCELLOR (who comes forward slowly). 


In my old days I’m blest, and most content. 
So hear and see the fortune-freighted leaf # 
Which has transformed to happiness our grief. 


2% 


58 FAUST. 


(He reads.) 


“To all to whom this cometh, be it known: 

A thousand crowns in worth this note doth own. 
It to secure, as certain pledge, shall stand 

All buried treasure in the Emperor’s land: 

And ’t is decreed, perfecting thus the scheme, 
The treasure, soon as raised, shall this redeem.” 


EMPEROR. 
A most enormous cheat — a crime, I fear! 
Who forged the Emperor’s sign-manual here ? 
Has there not been a punishment condign? 


TREASURER. 
Remember! Thou the note didst undersign ; 
Last night, indeed. Thou stood’st as mighty Pan, 
And thus the Chancellor’s speech, before thee, ran: 
“Grant to thyself the festal pleasure, then 
The People’s good —a few strokes of the pen!” 
These didst thou give: they were, ere night retreated, 
By skilful conjurers thousandfold repeated ; 
And, that a like advantage all might claim, 
We stampeti at once the series with thy name: 
Tens, Thirties, Fifties, Hundreds, are prepared. 
Thou canst not think how well the folk have fared. 
Behold thy town, half-dead once, and decaying, 
How all, alive, enjoying life, are straying! 
Although thy name long since the world made glad, 
Such currency as now it never had. 
No longer needs the alphabet thy nation, 
For in this sign each findeth his salvation. 


EMPEROR. 


And with my people does it pass for gold? 
For pay in court and camp, the notes they hold? 
Then I must yield, although the thing ’s amazing. 





ACT I. 59 


LORD HIGH STEWARD. 


"T was scattered everywhere, like wild-fire blazing, 
As currency, and none its course may stop. 

A crowd surrounds each money-changer’s shop, 
And every note is there accepted duly 

For gold and silver’s worth — with discount, truly. 
Thence is it spread to landlords, butchers, bakers: 
One half the people feast as pleasure-takers ; 

In raiment new the others proudly go, — 

The tradesmen cut their cloth, the tailors sew. 
The crowd * The Emperor’s health!” in cellars wishes, 
Midst cooking, roasting, rattling of the dishes. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


If one along the lonely terrace stray, 

He sees the lady, in superb array, 

With brilliant peacock-fan before one eye; 

A note she looks for, as she simpers by, 

And readier than by wit or eloquence 

Before Love’s favor falls the last defence. 
One is not plagued his purse or sack to carry; 
Such notes one lightly in his bosom bears, 
Or them with fond epistles neatly pairs : 

The priest devoutly in his breviary 

Bears his: the soldier would more freely trip, 
And lightens thus the girdle round his hip. 
Your Majesty will pardon, if my carriage 
Seems as it might the lofty work disparage. 


FAUST. 
The overplus of wealth, in torpor bound, 
Which 1n thy lands lies buried in the ground, 
Is all unused; nor boldest thought can measure 
The 2e7rowest boundaries of such a treasure. 


60 FAUOST. 


Imagination, in its highest flight, 

Exerts itself, but cannot grasp it quite ; 

Yet minds, that dare explore the secrets soundless, 
In boundless things possess a faith that’s boundlesa 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Such paper, stead of gold and jewelry, 

So handy is —one knows one’s property : 

One has no need of bargains or exchanges, 

But drinks of love or wine, as fancy ranges. 

If one needs coin, the brokers ready stand, 

And if it fail, one digs awhile the land. 

Goblet and chain one then at auction sells, 

And paper, liquidated thus, compels 

The shame of doubters and their scornful wit. 
The people wish naught else; they ’re used to it: 
From this time forth, your borders, far and wide, 
With jewels, gold, and paper are supplied. 


EMPEROR. 
You ’ve given our empire this prosperity ; 
The pay, then, equal to the service be! 
The soil intrusted to your keeping, shall you 
The best custodians be, to guard its value. 
You know the hoards, well-kept, of all the land, 
And when men dig, ’t is you must give command, 
Unite then now, ye masters of our treasure, 
This, your new dignity, to wear with pleasure, 
And bring the Upper World, erewhile asunder, 
In happiest conjunction with the Under! 


TREASURER. 


No further strife shall shake our joint position ; 


I like to have as partner the magician. 
[E£xit, with Faus? 








ACT Tf. 61 


EMPEROR. 


Man after man, the Court will I endow: 
Let each confess for what he ’ll spend, and how! 


PAGE (recetving). 
I'll lead a jolly life, enjoy good cheer. 


A SECOND (the same). 
I ’ll buy at once some trinkets for my dear. 


CHAMBERLAIN (accepting). 
Wines twice as good shall down my throat go trickling, 


A SECOND (the same). 
I feel the dice within my pockets tickling. 


KNIGHT BANNERET (refiectively). 
My lands and castle shall be free of debt. 


ANOTHER (the same). 
I "ll add to other wealth the wealth I get. 


EMPEROR. 


¥ hoped the gifts to bolder deeds would beckon ; 
But he who knows you, knows whereon to reckon. 
I see that, spite of all this treasure-burst, 

You stay exactly as you were at first. 


FOOL (approaching). 
You scatter favors: grant me also some! 


EMPEROR. 
‘1 hou ’rt come to life? ’T would go at once for rum. 


62 FA OST. 


FOOL. 
The magic leaves! I don’t quite comprehend. 


EMPEROR. 
That I believe; for them thou ‘It badly spend. 


FOOL. 
There others drop: I don’t know what to do. 


EMPEROR. 


Just pick them up! they fall to thy share, too. 
| aires 
FOOL. 
Five thousand crowns are mine? How unexpected ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Two-leggéd wine-skin, art thou resurrected ? 


FOOL. 
Much luck I ’ve had, but like this never yet. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Thou ’rt so rejoiced, it puts thee in a sweat. 


FOOL. 
But look at this, is ’t money’s-worth, indeed ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
*T will bring thee what thy throat and belly need. 


FOOL. 
And cattle can I buy, and house and land? 


' MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Gf course! just make an offer once, off-hand ! 





ACT I. 63 


FOOL. 
Castle and wood, and chase, and fishing? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
All! 
I ’d like upon Your Worship then to call. 
FOOL. 
To-night as landed owner I shall sit. 
| Exit, 


MEPHISTOPHELES (solus). 
Who now will doubt that this our Fool has wit? 


64 FAUST. 


v. 


A GLOOMY GALLERY. 
FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
yw wilt thou with me in this gloomy gallery ? 
Is there not still enough of sport 
There, in the crowded, motley Court, — 
Not chance for tricks, and fun, and raillery ? 


FAUST. 


Don’t tell me that !— In our old days the fun of it 
Didst thou wear out, and I ’Il have none of it. 
Thy wandering here and there is planned 

Just to evade what I demand. 

But I ’m tormented something to obtain ; 

The Marshal drives me, and the Chamberlain. 
The Emperor orders, he will instantly 

Helen and Paris here before him see, — 

The model forms of Man and Woman, wearing, 
Distinctly shown, their ancient shape and bearing. 
Now to the work! I dare not break my word. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
So thoughtlessly to promise was absurd. 


FAUST. 


Thou hast not, comrade, well reflected 
What comes of having used thy powers : 








ACT J. 65 


We ’ve made him rich; ’t is now expected 
That we amuse his idle hours. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Thou deem’st the thing is quickly fixed: 
Here before steeper ways we ’re standing ; 
With strangest spheres wouldst thou be mixed, 
And, sinful, addest new debts to the old, — 
Think’st Helen will respond to thy commanding 
As freely as the paper-ghosts of gold! | 
With witches’-riches and with spectre-pictures, 
And changeling-dwarfs, I ’ll give no cause for strictures ; 
But Devil’s-darlings, though you may not scold ’em, 
You cannot quite as heroines behold ’em. 


FAUST. 
The old hand-organ still I hear thee play ! 
From thee one always gets uncertain sense, 
The father, thou, of all impediments : 
For every means thou askest added pay. 
A little muttering, and the thing takes place; 
Ere one can turn, beside us here her shade is. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


I ’ve no concern with the old heathen race ; 
They house within their special Hades.43 
Yet there ’s a way. 


FAUST. 
Speak, nor delay thy history ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Unwilling, I reveal a loftier mystery. — 

In solitude are throned the Goddesses, 

No Space around them, Place and Time still less; 
E 


66 FAUST. 


Only to speak of them embarrasses. 
They are THE MOTHERS!“ 


FAUST (terrified). 
Mothers ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Hast thou dread? 


FAUST. 
The Mothers! Mothers ! —a strange word is said. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


It is so. Goddesses, unknown to ye, 

The Mortals, — named by us unwillingly. 

Delve in the deepest depths must thou, to reach them: 
*T is thine own fault that we for help beseech them. 


FAUST. 
Where is the way? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


No way !— To the Unreachable, 
Ne’er to be trodden! A way to the Unbeseechable, 
Never to be besought! Art thou prepared? 
There are no locks, no latches to be lifted ; 
Through endless solitudes shalt thou be drifted. 
Hast thou through solitudes and deserts fared ? 


FAUST. 


I think ’t were best to spare such speeches; 
They smell too strongly of the witches, 

Of cheats that long ago insnared. 

Have I not known all earthly vanities ? 
Learned the inane, and taught inanities ? 
When as I felt I spake, with sense as guide, 
The contradiction doubly shrill replied ; 





ACT 1. 67 


Enforced by odious tricks, have I not fled 
To solitudes and wildernesses dread, 
And that I might not live alone, unheeded, 
Myself at last unto the Devil deeded! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
And hadst thou swum to farthest verge of ocean, 
And there the boundless space beheld, 
Still hadst thou seen wave after wave in motion, 
Even though impending doom thy fear compelled. 
Thou hadst seen something, — in the beryl dim 
Of peace-lulled seas the sportive dolphins swim ; 
Hadst seen the flying clouds, sun, moon, and star: 
Naught shalt thou see in eridless Void afar, — 
Not hear thy footstep fall, nor meet 
A stable spot to rest thy feet. 


FAUST. 
Thou speak’st, as of all mystagogues the chief, 
Who e’er brought faithful neophytes to grief; 
Only reversed : — I to the Void am sent, 
That Art and Power therein I may augment: 
To use me like the cat is thy desire, 
To scratch for thee the chestnuts from the fire. 
Come on, then! we ’ll explore, whate’er befall ; 
In this, thy Nothing, may I find my All! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


I'll praise thee, ere we separate: I see 
Thou knowest the Devil thoroughly. 
Here, take this key ! 4 


FAUST. 
That little thing ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Take hold of it, not undervaluing ! 





68 FAUST. 


FAUST. 
It glows, it shines, — increases in my hand! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


How much ’t is worth, thou soon shalt understand. 
The Key will scent the true place from all others: 
Follow it down ! —’t will lead thee to the Mothers, 


FAUST (shuddering). 


The Mothers! Like a blow it strikes me still ! 
What is the word, to hear which makes me chill ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Art thou so weak, disturbed by each new word ? 
Wilt only hear what thou ’st already heard ? 

To wondrous things art thou so used already, 

Let naught, howe’er it sound, make thee unsteady! 


FAUST. 


Nathless in torpor lies no good for me ; 

The chill of dread is Man’s best quality. 

Though from the feeling oft the world may fend us, 
Deeply we feel, once smitten, the Tremendous. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Descend, then! I could also say: Ascend! 
*T were all the same. Escape from the Created 
To shapeless forms in liberated spaces ! 
Enjoy what long ere this was dissipated ! 
There whirls the press, like clouds on clouds unfolding ; 
Then with stretched arm swing high the key thou ’rt 
holding! 
FAUST (inspired ). 
Good! grasping firmly, fresher strength I win: 
My breast expands, let the great work begin! 





ACT J. 69 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


At last a blazing tripod tells thee this, 

That there the utterly deepest bottom is. 

Its light to thee will then the Mothers show, 
Some in their seats, the others stand or go, 

At their own will: Formation, Transformation, 
The Eternal Mind’s eternal recreation, 

Forms of all creatures, — there are floating free. 
They ’ll see thee not; for only wraiths they see. 
So pluck up heart, — the danger then is great, — 
Go to the tripod ere thou hesitate, 

And touch it with the key! 


_ |Faust, with the key, assumes a decidedly commanding atti- 
tude. MEPHISTOPHELES, observing him.) 


So, that is right! 
It will adhere, and follow thee to light. 
Composedly mounting, by thy luck upborne, 
Before they notice it, shalt thou return. 
When thou the tripod hither hast conveyed, 
Then call the hero, heroine, from the shade, — 
The first that ever such a deed perfected: 
*T is done, and thou thereto hast been selected. 
For instantly, by magic process warmed, 
To gods the incense-mist shall be transformed. 


FAUST. 
What further now ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Downward thy being strain! 
Stamp and descend, stamping thou ’It rise again. 


(Faust stamps, and sinks out of sight.) 


If only, by the key, he something learn ! 
I’m curious to see if he return. 


70 FAUST. 


VI. 


BRILLIANTLY LIGHTED HALLS. 


EMPEROR AND PRINCES. THE CouRT IN MOVE 
MENT. 


CHAMBERLAIN (fo MEPHISTOPHELES). 
HE spirit-scene you ’ve promised, still you owe us; 
Our Lord ’s impatient; come, the phantasm show 
us | 
LORD HIGH STEWARD. 
Just now His Gracious Self did question me: | 
Delay not, nor offend His Majesty ! : 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


My comrade ’s gone to set the work in motion; 
How to begin, he has the proper notion. 

In secret he the charms must cull, 

Must labor with a fervor tragic: 

Who would that treasure lift, the Beautiful, 
Requires the highest Art, the sage’s Magic. 


LORD HIGH STEWARD. 


What arts you need, is all the same to me; 
The Emperor wills that you should ready be. 


A BLONDE (/o MEPHISTOPHELES). 


One word, Sir! Here you see a visage fair, — 
In sorry summer I another wear ! 
There sprout a hundred brown and reddish freckles, 


ACT I. 7 


And vex my lily skin with ugly speckles. 
A cure! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

’T is pity! Shining fair, yet smitten, — 

Spotted, when May comes, like a panther-kitten ! 
Take frog-spawn, tongues of toads, which cohobate, 
Under the full moon deftly distillate, 
And, whea it wanes, apply the mixture: 
Next spring, the spots will be no more a fixture. 


A BRUNETTE. 
To sponge upon you, what a crowd ’s advancing ! 
I beg a remedy: a frozen foot 
Annoys me much, in walking as in dancing ; 
And awkwardly I manage to salute. 
MEPHISTOPHELES. 
A gentle kick permit, then, from my foot! “ 


THE BRUNETTE. 
Well, — that might happen, when the two are lovers. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
My kick a more important meaning covers: 
Stmilia similibus, when one is sick. 
The foot cures foot, each limb its hurt can palliate ; 
Come near! Take heed! and, pray you, don’t retaliate! 


THE BRUNETTE (screaming). 


Oh! oh! it stings! That was a fearful kick, 
Like hoof of horse. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


But it has cured you, quick. 
To dance whene’er you please, you now are able; 
To press your lover’s foot, beneath the table. 





72 FAUST. 


LADY (pressing forwards). 
Make room for me! Too great is my affliction, 
My tortures worse than those described in fiction: 
His bliss, till yesterday, was in my glances, 
But now he turns his back, and spins with Aer romances. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


The matter ’s grave, but listen unto me! 

Draw near to him with gentle, soft advances ; 

Then take this coal and mark him stealthily 

On mantle, shoulder, sleeve, — though ne’er so slight, 
Yet penitent at once his heart will be. 

The coal thereafter you must straightway swallow, 
And let no sip of wine or water follow: 

He ’ll sigh before your door this very night. 


THE LADY. 
It is not poison, sure? 


MEPHISTOPHELES (offended). 


Respect, where it is due ! 
To get such coals, you ’d travel many a mile: 
They ’re from the embers of a funeral pile, 
The fires whereof we once more hotly blew. 


PAGE. 
I love, yet still am counted adolescent. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (aside). 
I know not whom to listen to, at present. 
(Zo the Page.) 


Let not the younger girls thy fancies fetter; 
Those well in years know how to prize thee better. — 


(Others crowd around him.) 
Already others? ’T is a trial, sooth! 


ACT I. 73 


I "ll help myself, at last, with naked truth — 

The worst device !—so great my misery. 

O Mothers! Mothers! let but Faust go free! 
(Gazing around him.) 

The lights are burning dimly in the hall, 

The Court is moving onward, one and all: 

I see them march, according to degrees, 

Through long arcades and distant galleries. 

Now they assemble in the ample space 

Of the Knights’ Hall; yet hardly all find place. 

The breadth of walls is hung with arras rich, 

And armor gleams from every nook and niche. 

Here, I should think, there needs no magic word: 

The ghosts will come, and of their own accord. 


VOL. IL. 4 


74 FAUST. 


VII. 


HALL OF THE KNIGHTS, DIMLY LIGHTED 
(Zhe Emperor and Court have entered.) 


HERALD.“ 


INE ancient office, to proclaim the action, 

Is by the spirits’ secret influence thwarted: 
One tries in vain; such wildering distraction 
Can’t be explained, or reasonably reported. 
The chairs are ranged, the seats are ready all: 
The Emperor sits, fronting the lofty wall, 
Where on the tapestry the battles he 
Of the great era may with comfort see. 
Here now are all — Prince, Court, and their belonging, 
Benches on benches in the background thronging ; 
And lovers, too, in these dim hours enchanted, 
Beside their loved ones lovingly are planted. 
And now, since all have found convenient places, 
We ’re ready: let the spirits show the-r faces 


Trumpets. 


ASTROLOGER. 


Begin the Drama! ’T is the Sire’s command: 
Ye walls, be severed straightway, and expand! 
Naught hinders ; magic answers our desire: 
The arras flies, as shrivelled up by fire ; 

The walls are split, unfolded: in the gloom 

A theatre appears to be created : 


ACT J. 75 


By mystic light are we illuminated, 
And I ascend to the proscenium. — 


MEPHISTOPHELES 
(rising to view in the prompter's box). 
I hope to win, as prompter, general glory ; 
For prompting is the Devil’s oratory. 
(Zo the Astrologer.) 


Thou know’st the tune and time the stars that lead; 
Thou wilt my whispers like a master heed. 


ASTROLOGER. 


By power miraculous, we here behold 

A massive temple of the days of old. 

Like Atlas, who erewhile the heavens upbore, 
The serried columns stand, an ample store: 
Well may they for the weight of stone suffice, 
Since two might bear a mighty edifice. 


ARCHITECT.® 


That the antique? As fine it can’t be rated ; 
I ’d sooner style it awkward, over-weighted. 
Coarse is called noble, and unwieldy, grand : 
Give me the slender shafts that soar, expand ! 
To lift the mind, a pointed arch may boast; 
Such architecture edifies us most. 


ASTROLOGER. 


Receive with reverence the star-granted hours ; 
Let magic words bind Reason’s restless powers, 
But in return unbind, to circle free, 

The wings of splendid, daring Phantasy ! 

What you have boldly wished, see now achieved ! 
Impossible ’t is— therefore to be believed. 





76 FAUST. 


(FAUST rises to view on the other side of the proscenium.) 
In priestly surplice, crowned, a marvellous man, 
He now fulfils what he in faith began. 

With him, a tripod from the gulf comes up: 

I scent the incense-odors from the cup. 

He arms himself, the work to consecrate, 

And henceforth it can be but fortunate. 


FAUST (sudlimely). 


Ye Mothers, in your name, who set your throne 
In boundless Space, eternally alone, 

And yet companioned! AW the forms of Being, 
In movement, lifeless, ye are round you seeing. 
Whate’er once was, there burns and brightens free 
In splendor — for ’t would fain eternal be; © 
And ye allot it, with all-potent might, 

To Day’s pavilions and the vaults of Night. 
Life seizes some, along his gracious course ; 
Others arrests the bold Magician’s force ; 

And he, bestowing as his faith inspires, 
Displays the Marvellous, that each desires. 


ASTROLOGER. 


The glowing key has scarcely touched the cup, 
And lo! through all the space, a mist rolls up: 
It creeps about, and like a cloudy train, 
Spreads, rounding, narrowing, parting, closed again. 
And now, behold a spirit-masterpiece ! 

Music is born from every wandering fleece. 

The tones of air, I know not how they flow; 
Where’er they move all things melodious grow. 
The pillared shaft, the triglyph even rings : 

I think, indeed, the whole bright temple sings. 
The vapors settle; as the light film clears, 

A beauteous youth, with rhythmic step, appears. 





ACT 7. 77 


Here ends my task; his name I need not tell: 
Who doth not know the gentle Paris well? = 


LADY. 
O, what a youthful bloom and strength I see! 


A SECOND. 
Fresh as a peach, and full of juice, is he! 


A THIRD. 
The finely drawn, the sweetly swelling lip! 


A FOURTH. | 
From such a cup, no doubt, you ’d like to sip? 


A FIFTH. 
He ’s handsome, if a little unrefined. 


A SIXTH. 
He might be somewhat gracefuller, to my mind. 


KNIGHT. 


The shepherd I detect; I find him wearing 
No traces of the Prince, or courtly bearing. 


ANOTHER. 


O, yes! half-naked is the youth not bad; 
But let us see him first in armor clad! 


LADY. 
He seats himself, with such a gentle grace! 


KNIGHT. 
You ’d find his lap, perchance, a pleasant place? 


78 FAUST. 


ANOTHER. 
He lifts his arm so lightly o’er his head. 


CHAMBERLAIN. 
’T is not allowed: how thoroughly ill-bred ! 


. LADY. 
You lords find fault with all things evermore, 


CHAMBERLAIN. 
To stretch and yawn before the Emperor ! 


LADY. 
He only acts: he thinks he’s quite alone. 


CHAMBERLAIN. 
Even the play should be politely shown. 


LADY. 
Now sleep falls on the graceful youth so sweetly. 


CHAMBERLAIN. 
Now will he snore: ’t is natural, completely ! 


YOUNG LADY. 
Mixed with the incense-steam, what odor precious 
Steals to my bosom, and my heart refreshes ? 
_ OLDER LADY. 
Forsooth, it penetrates and warms the feeling! 
It comes from him. 
OLDEST LADY. 


His flower of youth, unsealing, 
It is: Youth’s fine ambrosia, ripe, unfading, 
The atmosphere around his form pervading. 
(HELENA comes forward.) 





ACT I. 79 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


So, that is she? My sleep she would not waste: 
She’s pretty, truly, but she’s not my taste. 


ASTROLOGER. 


There ’s nothing more for me to do, I trow; 

As man of honor, I confess it now. 

The Beauty comes, and had I tongues of fire, — 
So many songs did Beauty e’er inspire, — 

Who sees her, of his wits is dispossessed, 

And who possessed her was too highly blessed. 


FAUST. 
Have I still eyes? Deep in my being springs 
The fount of Beauty, in a torrent pouring ! 
A heavenly gain my path of terror brings. 
The world was void, and shut to my exploring, — 
And, since my priesthood, how hath it been graced ! 
Enduring ’t is, desirable, firm-based. 
And let my breath of being blow to waste, 
If I for thee unlearn my sacred duty ! 
The form, that long erewhile my fancy captured,* 
That from the magic mirror so enraptured, 
Was but a frothy phantom of such beauty ! 
*T is Thou, to whom the stir of all my forces, 
The essence of my passion’s courses, — 
Love, fancy, worship, madness, — here I render ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES (/rom the box). 
Be calm !— you lose your réle, to be so tender! 


OLDER LADY. 
Tall and well-formed! Too small the head, alone. 


YOUNGER LADY. 
Just see her foot! A heavier ne’er was shown. 


80 FAUST. 


DIPLOMATIST. 


Princesses of her style I’ve often seen: 
From head to foot she ’s beautiful, I ween. 


COURTIER. 
She near the sleeper steals, so soft and sly. 


LADY. 
How ugly, near that youthful purity ! 


POET. 
Her beauty’s light is on him like a dawn. 


LADY. 
Endymion and Luna —as they ’re drawn! 


POET. 


Quite right! The yielding goddess seems to sink, 
And o’er him bend, his balmy breath to drink. 
Enviable fate — a kiss ! —the cup is full! 


DUENNA. 
Before all people ! — that is more than cool. 


FAUST. 
A fearful favor to the boy ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Be still! 
Suffer the shade to do whate’er it will! 
COURTIER. 
She slips away, light-footed: he awakes. 


LADY. 
Just as I thought! Another look she takes. 











ACT 7. 81 


COURTIER. 
He stares: what haps, to him a marvel is. 


LADY. 
But none to her, what she before her sees ! 


COURTIER. 
She turns around to him with dignity. 


LADY. 


I see, she means to put him through his paces: 
All men, in such a case, act stupidly. 
Then, too, he thinks that first he’s won her graces. 


KNIGHT. 
Majestically fine !— She pleases me. 


LADY. 
The courtesan! How very vulgar she! 


PAGE. 
Just where he is, is where I ’d like to be! 


COURTIER. 
Who would not fain be caught in such sweet meshes? 


LADY. 


Through many a hand hath passed that jewel precious ; 
The gilding, too, is for the most part gone. 


ANOTHER. 
She has been worthless from her tenth year on. 


KNIGHT. 
Each takes the best that chance for him obtains; 
I °d be contented with these fair remains. 
4* F 


82 FAUST. 


A LEARNED MAN. 


I freely own, though ! distinctly see, 

’T is doubtful if the genuine one she be. 

The Present leads us to exaggeration, 

And I hold fast the written, old relation. 

I read that, truly, ere her bloom was blighted, 
The Trojan gray-beards greatly she delighted. 
And here, methinks, it tallies perfectly : 

I am not young, yet she delighteth me. 


ASTROLOGER. 
No more a boy! A bold, heroic form, 
He clasps her, who can scarce resist the storm. 
With arm grown strong he lifts her high and free: 


Means he to bear her off? 
FAUST. 
Rash fool, let be! 
Thou dar’st? Thou hear’st not? Hold!—I ’ll be 
obeyed. 
MEPHISTOPHELES. 


The spectral drama thou thyself hast made! 


ASTROLOGER. 


A word more! After all we 've seen to-day, 
I call the piece: Zhe Rape of Helena.* 


FAUST. 


What! Rape? Am I for nothing here? To stead me, 
Is not this key still shining in my hand? 

Through realms of terror, wastes, and waves it led me, 
Through solitudes, to where I firmly stand. 

Here foothold is! Realities here centre! 

The strife with spirits here the mind may venture, 

And on its grand, its double lordship enter ! 





ACT J. 83 


How far she was, and nearer, how divine! 

I “I! rescue her, and make her doubly mine. 

Ye Mothers! Mothers! crown this wild endeavor ! 
Who knows her once must hold her, and forever! 


ASTROLOGER. 
What art thou doing, Faust? O, look at him! 
He seizes her: the form is growing dim. 
He turns the key against the youth, and, lo! 
It touches hm — Woe’s me! Away now! Woe on 


woe ! 
(Axplosion. YF iusr lies upon the earth. The Spirits dissolve 
im vapor.) 
MEPHISTOPHELES 
(taking Faust upon his shoulders). 


You have it now! One’s self with fools to hamper, 
At last even on the Devil puts a damper. 


Darkness. Tumult. 


84 FAUST. 


ACT II. 


a 


I. 


A HIGH-ARCHED, NARROW, GOTHIC CHAM- 
BER, FORMERLY FAUST’S, UNCHANGED. 


MEPHISTOPHELES 
‘coming forth from behind a curtain.3 While he holds st up 
and looks behind him, FAUST ts seen lying stretched out upon 
an antiquated bed). 
IE there, ill-starred! seduced, unwise, 
To bonds that surely hold the lover! 
Whom Helena shall paralyze 
Not soon his reason will recover. 
(Looking around him.) 
I look about, and through the glimmer 
Unchanged, uninjured, all appears : 
The colored window-panes, methinks, are dimmer, 
The cobwebs have increased with years. 
The ink is dry, the paper old and brown, 
But each thing in its place I find: 
Even the quill is here laid down, 
Wherewith his compact with the Devil he signed. 
Yea, deeper in, the barrel ’s red 
With trace of blood I coaxed him then to shed. 
A thing so totally unique 
The great collectors would go far to seek. 


ACT 7. 85 


Half from its hook the old fur-robe is falling, 

That ancient joke of mine recalling, 

How once | taught the boy such truth 

As still, it may be, nourishes the youth. 

The wish returns, with zest acuter, 

Aided by thee, thou rough disguise, 

Once more to take on airs as college tutor, 

As one infallible in one’s own eyes. 

The savans this assurance know: 

The Devil lost it, long ago! 

( fe shakes the fur which he has taken down: moths, crickets, 
and beetles fly out.) 


CHORUS OF INSECTS. 


Welcome, and hail to thee! 
Patron, to-day : ; 
We ’re flying and humming, 
We hear and obey. 

Singly and silently 

Us thou hast sown ; 

Hither, by thousands, 
Father, we ’ve flown. 

The imp in the bosom 

Is snugly concealed ; 

But lice in the fur-coat 

Are sooner revealed. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


What glad surprise I feel, from this young life bestowed ' 
One reaps in time, if one has only sowed. 

Once more I ’ll shake the ancient fleeces out: 

Still here and there a chance one flies about. — 

Off, and around! in hundred thousand nooks 

Hasten to hide yourselves — among the books, 

There, in the pasteboard’s wormy holes, 


86 FAUST. 


Here, in the smoky parchment scrolls, 
In dusty jars, that broken lie, 
And yonder skull with empty eye. 
In all this trash and mould unmatched, 
Crotchets forever must be hatched. 
(He puts on the fur-mantle.) 
Come, once again upon my shoulders fall! 
Once more am I the Principal. 
But ’t is no good to ape the college; 
For where are those who will my claim acknowledge ? 
(Lle pulls the bell, which gives out a shrill, penetrating sound, 
causing the halls to tremble and the doors to fly open.) 


FAMULUS 

(tottering hither down the long, dark gallery). 
What a sound! What dreadful quaking! 
Stairs are rocking, walls are shaking ; 
Through the colored windows brightening 
I behold the sudden lightning; 
Floors above me crack and rumble, 
Lime and lumber round me tumble, 
And the door, securely bolted, 
Is by magic force unfolded. — 
There! How terrible! a Giant 
Stands in Faust’s old fur, defiant! 
As he looks, and beckons thither, 
I could fall, my senses wither. 
Shall I fly, or shall I wait? 
What, O what shall be my fate! 


MEPHISTOPHELES (Jdeckoning). 
Come hither, Friend! Your name is Nicodemus. 


FAMULUS. 
Most honored Sir, such is my name — Oremus / 





| AcT 71. 87 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Dispense with that! 


FAMULUS. 
O joy! you know me yet. 


MEPHISTOPHELES,. 


Old, and a student still, — I don’t forget, 

Most mossy Sir! Also a learned man 
Continues study, since naught else he can. 

’T is thus one builds a moderate house of cards; 
The greatest minds ne’er end them, afterwards. 
Your master is a skilful fellow, though : 

The noble Doctor Wagner all must know. 

The first in all the learned world is he, 

Who now together holds it potently, 

Wisdom increasing, daily making clearer. 

How thirst for knowledge listener and hearer! 
A mighty crowd around him flocks. 

None for the rostrum e’er were meeter: 

The keys he holds as doth Saint Peter, 

The Under and the Upper he unlocks. 

His light above all others sparkles surer, 

No name or fame beside him lives: 

Even that of Faust has grown obscurer ; 

’T is he alone invents and gives. 


FAMULUS. 


Pardon, most honored Sir! if I am daring 

To contradict you, in declaring 

All that upon the subject has no bearing; 

For modesty is his allotted part. 

The incomprehensible disappearing 

Of that great man to him is most uncheering ; 

From his return he hopes new strength and joy of heart 





88 


FAUST. | 


As 1n the days of Doctor Faust, the room, 
Since he ’s away, all things unchanged, 

Waits for its master, long estranged. 

To venture in, I scarce presume. — 

What stars must govern now the skies! 

It seemed as if the basements quivered ; 

The door-posts trembled, bolts were shivered : 
You had not entered, otherwise. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Where may his present dwelling be? 
Lead me to him! Bring him to me! 


FAMULUS. 
His prohibition is so keen! 
I do not dare to intervene. 
For months, his time unto the great work giving, 
In most secluded silence he is living. 
The daintiest of distinguished learners, 
His face is like a charcoal-burner’s, 
From nose to ears all black and deadened ; 
His eyes from blowing flames are reddened : 
Thus he, each moment, pants and longs, 
And music make the clattering tongs. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


An entrance why should he deny me? 
I'll expedite his luck, if he ’ll but try me! 


(Zhe FAMULUS goes off: MEPHISTOPHELES seats himself with 


gravity.) 
Scarce have I taken my position here, 
When there, behind, I see a guest appear. 
I know him; he is of the schoel new-founded, 
And his presumption will be quite unbounded. 














ACT £1. 89 


BACCALAUREUSSS (storming along the corridor). 


Doors and entrances are open! 

Well, — at last there ’s ground for hoping 
That no more, in mouldy lumber, 
Death-like, doth the Living slumber, 

To himself privations giving, 

Till he dies of very living! 


All this masonry, I’m thinking, 

To its overthrow is sinking ; 

And, unless at once we hurry, 

Us will crash and ruin bury. 

Daring though I be, ’t were murther 
Should I dare to venture further. 


What is that I see before me? 

Here, (what years have since rolled o’er me !) 
Shy and unsophisticated, 

I as honest freshman waited; 

Here I let the gray-beards guide me, 

Here their babble edified me! 


Out of dry old volumes preaching, 

What they knew, they lied in teaching ; 
What they knew, themselves believed not, 
Stealing life, that years retrieved not. 
What! —in yonder cell benighted 

One still sits, obscurely lighted ! 


Nearer now, I see, astcunded, 

Still he sits, with furs surrounded, — 
Truly, as I saw him last, 

Roughest fleeces round him cast! 
Then adroit he seemed to be, 

Not yet understood by me: 


go FAUST. 


But to-day ’t will naught avail him— 
O, I'll neither fear nor fail him! 


If, ancient Sir, that bald head, sidewards bending, 
Hath not been dipped in Lethe’s river cold, 

See, hitherward, your grateful scholar wending, 
Outgrown the academic rods of old. 

You ’re here, as then when I began; 

But / am now another man. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


I’m glad my bell your visit brought me. 

Your talents, then, I rated high ; 

The worm, the chrysalid soon taught me 

The future brilliant butterfly. 

Your curly locks and ruffle-laces 

A childish pleasure gave; you wooed the graces, 
A queue, I think, you ’ve never worn ? 

But now your head is cropped and shorn. 

Quite bold and resolute you appear. 

But don’t go, absolute, home from here! * 


BACCALAUREUS. 


Old master, in your old place leaning, 
Think how the time has sped, the while! 
Spare me your words of double meaning! 
We take them now in quite another style. 
You teased and vexed the honest youth; 
You found it easy then, in truth, 

To do what no one dares, to-day. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
If to the young the simple truth we say, 
The green ones find it nowise pleasant play; 
But afterwards, when years are over, 





ACT I. g! 


And they the truth through their own hide discover, 
Then they conceive, themselves have found it out: 
“ The master was a fool!’ one hears them shout. 


BACCALAUREUS, 
A rogue, perhaps! What teacher will declare 
The truth to us, exactly fair and square? 
Each knows the way to lessen or exceed it, 
Now stern, now lively, as the children need it. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Beyond a doubt, there is a time to learn; 
But you are skilled to teach, I now discern. 
Since many a moon, some circles of the sun, 
The riches of experience you have won. 


BACCALAUREUS. 
Experience! mist and froth alone! 
Nor with the mind at all coequal : 
Confess, what one has always known 
Is not worth knowing, in the sequel ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES (after a pause). 


It ’s long seemed soto me. I was a fool: 
My shallowness I now must ridicule. 


BACCALAUREUS. 


I’m glad of that! I hear some reason yet— 
The first old man of sense I ever met! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
I sought for hidden treasures, grand and golden, 
And hideous coals and ashes were my share. 


BACCALAUREUS. 
Confess that now your skull, though bald and olden, 
Is worth no more than is yon empty, there! 





92 FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (amiably). 
Know’st thou, my friend, how rude thou art to me? 


BACCALAUREUS. 
One lies, in German, would one courteous be. 


MEPHISTOPHELES 
(wheeling his chair still nearer to the proscenium, to the speo 
tators). 
Up here am I deprived of light and air: 
Shall I find shelter down among you there? 


BACCALAUREUS. 
It is presumptuous, that one will try 
Still to be something, when the time’s gone by. 
Man’s life lives in his blood, and where, in sooth, 
So stirs the blood as in the veins of youth ? 
There living blood in freshest power pulsates, 
And newer life from its own life creates. 
Then something’s done, then moves and works the man; 
The weak fall out, the sturdy take the van. 
While half the world beneath our yoke is brought, 
What, then, have you accomplished? Nodded — 
thought — 
Dreamed, and considered — plan, and always plan! 
Age is an ague-fever, it is clear, 
With chills of moody want and dread; 
When one has passed his thirtieth year, 
One then is just the same as dead.‘ 
’"T were best, betimes, to put you out o’ the way. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
The Devil, here, has nothing more to say. 


BACCALAUREUS. 
Save through my will, no Devil can there be. 





ACT I. 93 


MEPHISTOPHELES (aside). 
The Devil, though, will trip thee presently ! 


BACCALAUREUS. 


This is Youth’s noblest calling and most fit! 
The world was not, ere I created it; 
The sun I drew from out the orient sea; 
The moon began her changeful course with me; 
The Day put on his shining robes, to greet me; 
The Earth grew green, and burst in flower to meet me, 
And when I beckoned, from the primal night 
The stars unveiled their splendors to my sight. 
Who, save myself, to you deliverance brought 
From commonplaces of restricted thought? 
I, proud and free, even as dictates my mind, 
Follow with joy the inward light I find, 
And speed along, in mine own ecstasy, 
Darkness behind, the Glory leading me ! 
[ Exit 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Go hence, magnificent Original ! — 
What grief on thee would insight cast! 
Who can think wise or stupid things at all, 
That were not thought already in the Past? 
Yet even from him we ’re not in special peril ; 
He will, erelong, to other thoughts incline : 
The must may foam absurdly in the barrel, 
Nathless it turns at last to wine. 
(Zo the younger parterre, which does not applaud.) 


My words, I see, have left you cold ; 
For you, my children, it may fall so: 
Consider now, the Devil’s old; 

To understand him, be old also! 


94 FAUST. 


II. 


LABORATORY. 


After the manner of the Middle Ages ; extensive, pondtrom 
apparatus for fantastic purposes. 


WAGNER (at the furnace). 
i Nese loud bell chimes with feazful clangor, 
The sooty walls feel the vibration ; 
Soon must the long suspense be ended 
Of my most earnest expectation. 
It shines, the darknesses are rended: 
Within the phial’s inmost chamber 
It gleams, as doth a living ember, — 
Yea, a carbuncle, burning, bright’ning, | 
It rays the darkness with its lightning. 
Now white and clear the lustres blend! 
O that I hold, nor lose it more ! 
Ah, God! what rattles at the door? 


MEPHISTOPHELES (entering). 
Welcome! I mean it as a friend. 


WAGNER (anxiously). 
Be welcome to the planet of the hour! 
(Whisperinyg.) 
Yet breath and speech suspend! <A work of power, 
A splendid work, will soon be here displayed. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (whispering). 
What is it, then ? 


ACT 17. 95 


WAGNER (whispering). 
A man is being made. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Aman? And what enamored pair 
Have you within the chimney hidden? 


WAGNER. 


Nay, God forbid! This procreation is most rare: 

Of the old, senseless mode we ’re now well ridden. 
The tender point, whence Life commenced its course, 
The outward stress of gracious inward force, 

Which took and gave, itself delineating, 

First near, then foreign traits assimilating, 

We now of all its dignity divest : 

The beast therein may further find a zest, 

But Man must learn, with his great gifts, to win 
Henceforth a purer, loftier origin. 


( Turning towards the furnace.) 


It brightens, —see! Sure, now, my hopes increase 
That if, from many hundred substances, 

Through mixture — since on mixture all depends — 
The human substance gently be compounded, 

And by a closed retort surrounded, 

Distilled, and fed, and slowly founded, 

Then in success the secret labor ends. 


(Again turning towards the furnace.) 


'T will be! the mass is working clearer ! 
Conviction gathers, truer, nearer ! 

The mystery which for Man in Nature lies 
We dare to test, by knowledge led; 

And that which she was wont to organize 
We crystallize, instead. 








96 FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Who lives, learns many secrets to unravel ; 

For him, upon this earth, there ’s nothing new can be: 
I’ve seen already, in my years of travel, 

Much crystallized humanity. 


WAGNER 
(up to this time continuously attentive to the phial). 
It mounts, it lightens, grows, —’t is won! 
A moment more, and it is done! 
Insane, at first, appears a great intent; 
We yet shall laugh at chance in generation ; 
A brain like this, for genuine thinking meant, 
Will henceforth be a thinker’s sure creation. 
(Rapturously inspecting the phial.) 
The glass vibrates with sweet and powerful tone ; 
It darkens, clears: it must arrive at being! 
And now in delicate shape is shown 
A pretty manikin, moving, living, seeing! 
What more can we, what more the world demand ? 
The secret, solved, all men may reach: 
Hark! as the ringing tones expand, 
They form a voice, result in speech. 


HOMUNCULUS 9 

(i the phial, to WAGNER). 
How goes it, Daddy? It was then no jest! 
Come, press me tenderly upon thy breast! 
But not too hard, for fear the glass might shatter! 
This is the quality of matter: 
For what is natural, scarce the world has place; 
What’s artificial, needs restricted space. 

(7o MEPHISTOPHELES. ) 

Thou rogue, Sir Cousin! here I find thee, too? 





ACT Il. 97 


And at the proper time! My thanks are cue: 
A lucky fortune led thee here to me; 

Since I exist, then I must active be. 

I'd fain begin my work without delay : 

Thou art adroit in shortening my way. 


WAGNER. 
But first, a word! I’m shamed that answers fail me; 
For old and young with problems so assail me. 
Now, for example, none e’er comprehended 
How soul and body wedded are and blended, — 
Hold fast, as if defying separation, 
Yet never cease their mutual irritation. 
Therefore — 
MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Desist! I’d rather ask him why 
The man and wife agree so wretchedly. 
To thee, my friend, the thing will ne’er be clear: 
There ’s work to do: for that the little fellow ’s here. 


HOMUNCULUS. 
What’s to be done? 


MEPHISTOPHELES ( pointing to a side-door). 
Thy talents here employ ! 


WAGNER (still gasing at the phial). 
Forsooth, thou art the very loveliest boy ! 
(Zhe side-door opens: FAUST is seen stretched out upon a couch.) 


HOMUNCULUS (astonished). 
Significant ! — 
(Zhe phial slips out of WAGNER’S hands, hovers over FAUST, 
and shines upon him.) 
Fair scenery !©@ — Waters, moving 
VOL. II. 5 G 


98 FAUST. 





In forest shadows: women there, undressing, 

The loveliest forms !— the picture is improving. 
One, marked by beauty, splendidly expressing 
Descent from Gods or high heroic races, 

Now dips her foot in the translucent shimmer : 
The living flame of her sweet form displaces 

The yielding crystal, cool around the swimmer. 
But what a sound of wings! What rapid dashing 
Across the glassy pool, what fluttering, splashing ! 
The maidens fly, alarmed; but only she, 

The queen, looks on, composed and terror-free, | 
And sees with proud and womanly delight | 
The swan-prince press her knee with plumage white, 

Importunately tame: he grows acquainted. — 

But all at once floats up a vapor pale, 

And covers with its closely-woven veil 

The loveliest picture ever dreamed or painted. 





MEPHISTOPHELES. 
How much hast thou to tell, — what stories merry! 
So small thou art, so great a visionary ! 
Nothing see I! — 


HOMUNCULUS. 


Of course. Thou, from the North, 
And in the age of mist brought forth, 
In knighthood’s and in priestcraft’s murky den, 
How should thy sight be clearer, then ? 
In gloom alone art thou at home. 

(Gazing around.) 
Brown masonry, repellent, crumbling slowly, 
Arch-pointed, finical, fantastic, lowly !— 
If this man wakes, another danger ’s nigh; 
At once upon the spot he ’ll die. 
Wood-fountains, swans, and naked beauties, 


ACT I. 99 


Such was his dream of presage fair: 

How should these dark surroundings suit his 
Desires, when them / scarce can bear ? 
Away with him ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
I hail the issue’s chances. 


HOMUNCULUS. 
Command the warrior to the fight, 
Conduct the maiden to the dances, 
And all is finished, as is right. 
Just now — there breaks on me a light — 
*T is Classical Walpurgis-Night ; 
Whate’er may come, it is the best event, 
So bring him to his proper element! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
The like of that I never heard one mention. 


HOMUNCULUS. 


How should it have attracted your attention? 
Only romantic ghosts are known to you; 
A genuine phantom must be classic too. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


But whitherward shall then we travel, tell me? 
Your antique cronies in advance repel me. 


HOMUNCULUS. 
Northwestwards, Satan, is thy park and pale, 
But we, this time, southeastwards sail. 
Peneus, there, the great plain wanders through, 
By thickets, groves, and silent coves, and meadow 


grasses ; 


100 FAUST. 


The level stretches to the mountain passes, 
And o’er it lies Pharsalus, old and new. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Alas! have done! Bring not that fell collision 

Of tyrant and of slave before my vision ! 

I’m tired of that: for scarcely is it done 

Than they the same thing have again begun; 

And no one marks that he’s the puppet blind 

Of sly Asmédi, lurking there behind. 

They fight, we ’re told, their freedom’s right to save; 
But, clearlier seen, ’t is slave that fights with slave. 


HOMUNCULUS, 


Leave unto men their fractiousness and clatter: 
Each must protect himself, as best he can, 
From boyhood up, and thus becomes a man. 
How this one shall recover, is our matter. 

Hast thou a method, let it tested be! 

But hast thou none, so leave the case to me! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


There ’s many a Brocken-method I might try, 
But pagan bolts, I find, the way deny. 

The Grecian race was little worth, alway ; 

It dazzles with the senses’ freer play, 

To cheerful sins the heart of man entices; 
While ours are ever counted gloomy vices. 
Now, what shall be ? 


HOMUNCULUS. 
Shyness was ne’er thy blame. 
When I to thee Thessalian witches name, 
I ’ve not said nothing, that I know. 





ACT 1. 101 


MEPHISTOPHELES (/ust/ully). 


Thessalian witches! Well! The persons, those, 
Whom I inquired for, long ago. 

Night after night beside them to repose, 

I think would hardly suit: but so, 

° A mere espial, trial, — 


HOMUNCULUS. 


Here! cast o’er 
The knight your magic mantle, and infold him ! 
The rag will still, as heretofore, 
Upon his airy course —and thine —uphold him. 
I ll light the way. 


WAGNER (anxiously). 
And I? 


HOMUNCULUS. 


Eh? You 
Will stay at home, most weighty work to do. 
Unfold your ancient parchments, and collect 
Life’s elements as your recipes direct, 
One to the other with due caution fitting. 
The Waa? consider, more the How and Why / 
Meanwhile, about the world at random flitting, 
I may detect the dot upon the “I.”® 
The lofty aim will then accomplished be; 
Such an endeavor merits such requital: 
Gold, honor, glory, healthy forces vital, 
And science, too, and virtue, — possibly. 
Farewell ! 


WAGNER (sorrowfully). 


Farewell! It doth depress my heart: 
I fear, alreacy, we forever part. 


102 


FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Down to Peneus, with his aid! 
Sir Cousin is a deft attendant. 
(Ad spectatores.) 
Upon the creatures we have made 
We are, ourselves, at last, dependent. 











ACT I. 103 


ITI. 
CLASSICAL WALPURGIS-NIGHT.& 


I. 
THE PHARSALIAN FIELDS. 
Darkness. 


ERICHTHO. 


fe this night’s awful festival, as oft before, 

I enter here, Erichtho, I, the gloomy one: 

Not so atrocious as the evil poets draw, 

In most superfluous slander — for they never cease 

Their blame or praises . . . Over-whitened I behold 

The vale, with waves of tents that glimmer gray afar, 

The after-vision of that fatal, fearful night. 

How oft is it repeated ! — will forever be 

Forever re-enacted! No one grants the realm 

Unto another: unto him whose might achieved 

And rules it, none ; for each, incompetent to rule 

His own internal self, is all too fain to sway 

His neighbor’s will, even as his haughty mind inclines. 

But here a lesson grand was battled to the end, 

How force resists and grapples with the greater force, 

The lovely, thousand-blossomed wreath of Freedom 
rends, 

And bends the stubborn laurel round the Ruler’s brow. 

Here, of his days of early greatness Pompey dreamed: 

Before the trembling balance Cesar yonder watched! 

It will be weighed : the world knows unto whom it turned. 


104 FAUST. 


The watch-fires flash and glow, spendthrift of ruddy 
flame ; 

Reflections of the squandered blood the earth exhales, 

And, lured by rare and marvellous splendor of the night, 

The legion of Hellenic legends gathers here. 

Round all the fires uncertain hover, or at ease 

Sit near them, fabulous forms of ancient days. ... 

The moon, imperfect, truly, but of clearest beam, 

Arises, scattering mellow radiance everywhere : 

Vanish the phantom tents, the fires are burning blue. 


But o’er my head what unexp:cted meteor! 

It shines, illuminates the sphere of earth below. 

I scent the Living! therefore it becomes me not 

Them to approach, I being harmful unto them : 

An evil name it brings me, and it profits naught. 
Already now it sinks: discreatly \ withdraw. 

[Zxit 
The Airy Trevellers ~bove. 


HOMUNCULUS. 
Once again the circle follow, 
O’er the flames and horrors hover! 


Ghostly ’t is in vale and hollow, 
Spectral all that we discover 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
If, as through my window nightly 
In the grewsome North, I see 
Spectres hideous and unsightly, 
Here is home, as there, to me. 


HOMUNCULUS. 


See! a tall one there is striding 
On before us, in the shade. 


ACT I1. 105 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Through the air she saw us gliding, 
And it seems she is afraid. 


HOMUNCULUS, 
Let her stride! The knight be taken 
Now, and set upon the strand: 
Here to life again he ’ll waken, 
Seeking it in fable-land. 


FAUST (as he touches the earth). 
Where is she ?— 


HOMUNCULUS, 
It ’s more than we can tell, 
But to inquire would here be well. 
Thou ’rt free to hasten, ere the day, 
From flame to flame, and seek her so: 
Who to the Mothers found his way, 
Has nothing more to undergo. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
I also claim my share in the excursion ; 
Yet know no better plan for our diversion, 
Than that each one, amid these fires, 
Should seek such fortunes as he most desires. 
Then, as a sign to reunite us, 
Let, little one, thy lantern sound and light us ! 


HOMUNCULUS. 
Thus shall it shine, and thus shall ring! 
( The glass shines and rings powerfully.) 


And now, away to many a marvellous thing! 
c® 


106 FAUST. 


FAUST (so/us). 


Where is she? — But no further question make { 
If this were not the soil that bore her feet, 
If not the wave that to her coming beat, 
Yet ’t is the air that knows the tongue she spake. 
Here, by a marvel! Here, on Grecian land! * 
I felt at once the earth whereon I stand. 
Through me, the sleeper, fresher spirit stealing, 
I rise refreshed, Antzus in my feeling. 
Together here I find the strangest store ; 
Let me this labyrinth of flames explore. 
[Goes away 


MEPHISTOPHELES ( prying around). 


And as among these fires I wander, aimless, 

I find myself so strange, so disconcerted : © 

Quite naked most, a few are only shirted ; 

The Griffins insolent, the Sphinxes shameless, 

And what not all, with pinions and with tresses, 
Before, behind, upon one’s eyesight presses ! — 
Indecency, ’t is true, is our ideal, 

But the Antique is too alive and real; 

One must with modern thought the thing bemaster, 
And in the fashion variously o’erplaster :— 
Disgusting race! Yet I, perforce, must meet them, 
And as new guest with due decorum greet them. — 
Hail, then, Fair Ladies! Graybeards wise, good cheer: 


GRIFFIN (snarling). 


Not graybeards! Graybeards? No one likes to hear 
One call him gray. For in each word there rings 

The source, wherefrom its derivation springs.” 

Gray, growling, grewsome, grinning, graves, and grimly 
Etymologically accord, nor dimly, = - 

And make us grim. 





ACT II. 107 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
And yet, why need you stiffen ? 
You like the gv#f in your proud title, “ Griffin.” 
GRIFFIN 
(as above, and continuously so). 
Of course! for this relation is found fit; 
Though often censured, oftener praised was it. 


Let one but g7zf at maidens, crowns, and gold : 
Fortune is gracious to the Griper bold. 


ANTS 
(of the colossal kind). 
You speak of gold, much had ourselves collected ; 
In rocks‘and caverns secretly we trapped it: 
The Arimaspean race our store detected, — 
They ’re laughing now, so far away they ’ve snapped it, 


¢ THE GRIFFINS. 
We soon shall force them to confess. 


THE ARIMASPEANS.® 


But not in this free night of jubilee. 
Before the morrow, all will squandered be ; 
This time our efforts will obtain success. 


MEPHISTOPHELES 
(who has seated himself between the SPHINXES) 


How soon I feel familiar here, among you! 
I understand you, one and all. 


SPHINX. 


Our spirit-tones, when we have sung you, 
Become, for you, material. 
Now name thyself, till we shall know thee better. 


108 FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


With many names would men my nature fetter. 

Are Britons here? So round the world they wheel, 
To stare at battle-fields, historic traces, | 
Cascades, old walls, and classic dreary places; 

And here were something worthy of their zeal. 

Their Old Plays also testify of me ; 

Men saw me there as “ Old Iniquity.” 





SPHINX. 
How did they hit on that? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
I know not, verily. | 


- SPHINX. 


Perhaps! Hast thou in star-lore any power ? 
What say’st thou of the aspects of the hour? 


MEPHISTOPHELES (/ooking up). 


Star shoots on star, the cloven moon doth ride 
In brilliance ; in this place I ’m satisfied: 

I warm myself against thy lion’s hide. 

It were a loss to rise from out these shades: — 
Propose enigmas, or at least charades! 


SPHINX. 


Express thyself, and ’t will a riddle be.% 

Try once thine own analysis: ’t were merry. 
“To both Devout and Wicked necessary: 

To those, a breast-plate for ascetic fighting ; 

To these, boon-comrade, in their pranks uniting ; 
And both amusing Zeus, the fun-delighting.” 





ACT II. 109 


FIRST GRIFFIN (snarling). 
I like not him! 


SECOND GRIFFIN (snarling more gruffly). 
What will the fellow here ? 


BOTH. 
The Nasty One is not of us, ’t is clear! 


MEPHISTOPHELES (édruéally). 
Think’st thou, perhaps, thy guest has nails to scratch, 
That with thy sharper talons cannot match ? 
Just try it once! 


SPHINX (gently). 
Stay, shouldst thou find it well; 
But from our ranks thou wilt thyself expel. 
In thine own land thou ’rt wont thyself to pamper, 
Yet here, I think, thy spirits feel a damper. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Thine upper part entices; naught is fairer ; 
But, further down, the beast excites my terror. 


SPHINX. 
Bitter, False one, will be thy expiation ; 
Our claws are sound and worthy proof, 
But thou, with withered horse’s-hoof, 
Art ill at ease in our association. 


(Zhe SIRENS prelude above.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
On yonder poplars by the river, 
What are the birds that swing above? 





Ir0o FAUST. 


SPHINX. 


Beware! The very best that ever 
Existed, they have lured to love. 


SIRENS.” 


Ah, why vitiate your senses, 

Where those Uglinesses darken ? 
We, in crowds, come hither: hearken 
How the accordant strain commences, 
Meet for Sirens’ soft pretences ! 


SPHINXES 
(mocking them, in the same melody). 


Let them to descend be bidden! 

In the branches they have hidden 
Hideous falcon-claws they ’re wearing, 
And you ’ll feel their cruel tearing, 
Once you lend them willing ear. 


SIRENS. 


Banish hate and envy, rather! 

We the purest pleasures gather, 
Under Heaven’s auspicious sphere ! 
On the earth and on the ocean, 

We, with cheerful beckoning motion, 
Bid the wanderer welcome here. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


These are of novelties the neatest, 

Where from the throat and harp-string sweetest 
The tones around each other twine. 

They ’re lost on me, these tinkling trickles; 
The sound my ear-drum pats and tickles, 

But cannot reach this heart of mine. 











ACT I. 11m 


SPHINXES. 


Speak not of heart! Fool, so to call it! 
An old and wrinkled leathern wallet 
Would better suit that face of thine. 


FAUST (approaching). 


How strange! I, satisfied, behold these creatures, ~ 
In the Repulsive, grand and solid features : 7 

A fate propitious I behold advance. 

Whither transports me now this solemn glance ? 


(Pointing to the SPHINXES.) 
Once before these took CEdipus his stand: 
(Pointing to the SIRENS ) 
These made Ulysses writhe in hempen band: 
(Pointing to the ANTS.) 
By these the highest treasure was amassed : 
( Pointing to the GRIFFINS, ) 


By these ’t was held inviolate and fast: 
Fresh spirit fills me, face to face with these — 
Grand are the Forms, and grand the Memories! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Once thou hadst cursed such crude antiques, 
But now, it seems, they ’ve comfort given ; 
For when a man his sweetheart seeks, 
Welcome to him are monsters, even. 


FAUST (fo the SPHINXES). 
Ye woman-forms, give ear, and say 
Hath one of you seen Helena? 
SPHINXES. 


Before her day our line expired in Greece ; 
Our very last was slain by Hercules : 


112 FAUST. 


Yet ask of Chiron, if thou please. 
He gallops round throughout this ghostly night, 
And if he halt for thee, thy chance is bright. 


SIRENS. 


Thou art not to failure fated! 

How Ulysses, lingering, learned us, 
Nor, regardless passing, spurned us, 
Manifold hath he narrated : 

All to thee shall be confided, 
Seekest thou our meads, divided 

By the dark-green arms of Ocean. 


SPHINX. 


Let not thyself thus cheated be! 

Not like Ulysses bound, — but we 

Will with good counsel thee environ: 

If thou canst find the noble Chiron, 

Thou ‘It learn what I have promised thee. 


[FAUST goes away, 
MEPHISTOPHELES (i//-temperedly). 


What croaks and flaps of wings go past! 
One cannot see, they fly so fast, 

In single file, from first to last: 

A hunter would grow tired of these. 


SPHINX. 


The storm-wind like, that winter harrows, 
Reached hardly by Alcides’ arrows, 
They are the swift Stymphalides ; 

And not ill-meant their greetings creak, 
With goose’s foot and vulture’s beak. 
They fain would join us in our places, 
And show themselves as kindred races. 





ACT Ul. 113 


MEPHISTOPHELES (as if intimidated). 
Some other brute is hissing shrill. 


SPHINX. 


Be not afraid, though harsh the pan! 

They are the hydra-heads, the old Lernzan, 

Cut from the trunk, yet think they ’re something still. 
But say, what means your air distressed ? 

Why show your gestures such unrest ? 

Where will you go? Then take your leave! 

That chorus, there, I now perceive, 

Turns like a weathercock your neck. Advance!— 
Greet as you will each lovely countenance ! 

They are the Lamiz, wenches vile, 

With brazen brows and lips that smile, 

Such as the satyr-folk have found so fair: 

A cloven foot may venture all things there. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
But stay you here, that I again may find you? 


SPHINX. 


Yes! Join the airy rabble, there behind you! 
From Egypt we, long since, with all our peers, 
Accustomed were to reign a thousand years. 
If for our place your reverence be won, 
We rule for you the days of Moon and Sun. 
We sit before the Pyramids 
For the judgment of the Races, 
Inundation, War, and Peace, — 
With eternal changeless faces. 


114 FAUST. 


II. 
PENEUS 


(surrounded with NYMPHS and Tributary Streams). 


PENEUS.” 


TIR yourselves, ye whispering rushes, 
Rustle, slender willow-bushes, 
Sister reeds, breathe softer, crisper, 
Trembling poplar-branches, whisper 
To the interrupted dream! 
Fearful premonitions wake me, 
Secret shudders thrill and shake me 
In my rippling, sleeping stream. 


FAUST (advancing to the river), 


Here, behind the vines that dangle 
O’er the thicket’s bowery tangle, 

If I heard aright, were noises 
Similar to human voices. 

Babbling seemed the wave to patter, 
And the breeze in sport to chatter. 


NYMPHS (¢o Faust). 


For thee were it better 

To lie here, reviving 

In coolness thy body, 
Outwearied with striving, — 
The rest, that eludes thee, 
To taste, and be free: 
We'll rustle and murmur, 
And whisper to thee. 


ACT Il. © 115 


FAUST. 


Iam awake! Let them delay me, 

The incomparable Forms !— and sway me, 
As yonder to my sight confessed ! 

How strangely am I moved, how nearly ! 
Are they but dreams ? or memories, merely? 
Already once was I so blest. 

Beneath the swaying bushes hiding, 

The full, fresh waves are softly gliding ; 
They scarcely rustle on their path: 

A hundred founts from all sides hasten, 
To fill a pure and sparkling basin, 

The hollowed level of a bath. 

The fair young limbs of women trouble 
The watery glass that makes them double, 
And doubles, thus, the eye’s delight : 

In joyous bath each other aiding, 

Or boldly swimming, shyly wading, 

Then cry, and splash, and foamy fight. 

It were enough, the picture viewing, — 
My healthy eyesight here renewing, — 

Yet I desire the still unseen. 

My gaze would pierce through vonder cover, 
Whose leafy wealth is folded over 

The vision of the stately Queen. 


Strange! across the crystal skimming, 
From the coves the swans are swimming, 
Moving in majestic state: 

Floating calmly and united, 

But how proud and self-delighted, 

Head and neck they lift elate!... 

One, his feathers proudly plum‘ng, 
Boldly sn his grace presuming, 

Leads the others in the race; 


116 FA UST. 


With his whitest plumage showing 
Wave-like on the wave he’s throwing, 
Speeds he to the sacred place... . 

The others back and forth together 
Swim on with smoothly shining feather, 
And soon, in mimic battle met, 

Shall chase aside the maids affrighted, 
Till, for their own protection slighted, 
Their bounden service they forget. 


NYMPHS. 


Sisters, bend and lay the ear 

On the turf beside the river! 
Sound of hoofs, if right I hear, 
Swift approaching, seems to shiver. 
Would I knew whose rapid flight 
Brings a message to the Night ! 


FAUST. 
As I think, the earth is ringing 
From a charger, hither springing. 
See there! See there! 
A fortune comes, most fair: 
Shall I attain its blessing ? 
O, marvel past expressing ! 
A rider trots towards us free : 
Spirit and strength in him I see, — 
Upon a snow-white steed careering. ... 
I know him now, I hail with awe 
The famous son of Philyra! — 
Halt, Chiron, halt! I’ve something for thy hearing, 


CHIRON.73 
What then? What is it? 





ACT UW. oar 


FAUST. 
Thy course delay! 


CHIRON. 
I rest not. 


FAUST. 
Take me with thee, then, I pray! 


CHIRON. 


Mount! and I thus can ask, at leisure, 
Whither thy way. Thou standest on the shore ; 
I ‘ll bear thee through the flood, with pleasure. 


FAUST (mounting). 


Whither thou wilt. I thank thee evermore. ... 

The mighty man, the pedagogue, whose place 

And fame it was, to teach a hero-race, — 

The splendid circle of the Argonauts, 

And all whose deeds made quick the Poet’s thoughts. 


CHIRON. 
We will not further speak of these! 
As Mentor even Pallas is not venerated ; 
And, after all, they manage as they please, 
As if they ’d not been educated. 


FAUST. 
The leech, who knoweth flower and fruit, 
Whose lore can sound the deepest root, — 
Who heals the sick, and soothes the wounded place, 
Him, here, in mind and body I embrace! 


CHIRON. 


When heroes, near me, felt the smart, 
My helpful knowledge failed them seldom ; 





18 FAUST. 


But, at the last, I left mine art 
To priest and simple-gathering beldam. 


FAUST. 


Thy speech the true great man betrays, 
Who cannot hear a word of praise ; 
His modesty would fain confound us 
To think his equals still were round us. 


CHIRON. 


‘Thou seemest skilled to feign such matter — 
People and Prince alike to flatter. 


FAUST. 


But surely thou wilt grant to me 

That thou the greatest of thy time didst see, 

Upon their paths of proud achievement trod, 

And lived thy days, a serious demigod. 

Among those grand, heroic forms of old, 

Whom didst thou for the best and worthiest hold? 


CHIRON. 


Of those beneath the Argonauts’ bright banner, 
Each worthy was in his peculiar manner, 

And by the virtue of his strength selective 
Sufficed therein, where others were defective. 
Castor and Pollux were as victors hailed, 
Where beauty and the grace of youth prevailed: 
Decision, the swift deed for others’ aid, 

Gave the fair crown before the Boreads laid : 
Reflective, prudent, strong, in council wise, 

So Jason ruled, delight of women’s eyes: 

Then Orpheus, gentle, silent, brooding, lowering, 
But when he struck the lyre, all-overpowering. 
Sharp-sighted Lynceus, who by day and dark 


ACT II. 119 


Through shoreward breakers steered the sacred bark. 
Danger is best endured where men are brothers ; 
When one achieves, then praise him all the others, 


FAUST. 
But Hercules thy speech is wronging — 


CHIRON. 


Ah, me ! awaken not my longing!... 
I had not seen, in Fields Elysian, 
How Pheebus, Arés, Hermes, shine; 
But there arose before my vision 

’ A form that all men called divine. 

A king by birth, as ne’er another, 

A youth magnificent to view ; 
Though subject to his elder brother, 
And to the loveliest women, too. 

No second such hath Gea granted,7 
Or Hebe led to Heaven again ; 

For him the songs are vainly chanted, 
The marble hewn for him in vain. 


FAUST. 


Though ever to his form addicted, 

His grace the sculptors could not wreak. 
The fairest Man hast thou depicted, 
Now of the fairest Woman speak ! 


CHIRON. 


What !— Little worth is woman’s beauty, 
So oft an image dumb we see: 

I only praise, in loving duty, 

A being bright and full of glee. 

For Beauty in herself delighteth; 

And irresistibly she smiteth 


120 FAUST. 


When sweetly she with Grace uniteth, 
Like Helena, when her I bore. 


FAUST. 
Her didst thou bear ? 


CHIRON. 
This back she pressed, 


FAUST. 


Was I not wild enough, before ? 
And now such seat, to make me blest! 


CHIRON. 
Just so she grasped me by the hair 
As thou dost. 
FAUSt. 


O, I scarcely dare 
To trust my senses ! — tell me more ! 
She is my only aspiration ! 
Whence didst thou bear her — to what shore ? 


CHIRON. 


Not difficult is the relation. 

*T was then, when came the Dioscuri bold 

To free their sister from the robbers’ hold; 

But these, accustomed not to be subdued, 
Regained their courage and in rage pursued. 

The swamps below Eleusis did impede 

The brothers’ and the sister’s flying speed : 

The brothers waded: splashing through the reed, 
I swam: then off she sprang, and pressing me 
On the wet mane, caressing me, 

She thanked with sweetly-wise and conscious tongue. 
How charming was she ! — dear to age, so young! 








ACT I. 12% 


FAUST. 
But seven years old! — 


CHIRON. 

Philologists, I see, 
Even as they cheat themselves, have cheated thee. 
*T is curious with your mythologic dame : 75 
The Poet takes her when he needs her name; 
She grows not old, stays ever young and warm, 
And of the most enticing form ; 
Seduced in youth, in age enamoring still, — 
Enough! no time can bind the Poet’s will. 


FAUST. 


Then let no bonds of Time be thrown around her! 
Even as on Phere’s isle Achilles found her, 
Beyond the bounds of Time. What blessing rare, 
In spite of Fate such love to win and wear ! 

And shall not I, by mightiest desire, 

Unto my life that sole fair form acquire, 

That shape eternal, peer of Gods above, 

Tender as grand, sublime as sweet with love ? 
Thou saw’st her once; f0-day I saw her beam, 
The dream of Beauty, beautiful as Dream ! 

My soul, my being, now is bound and chained ; 

I cannot live, unless she be attained. 


CHIRON. 


Thou, Stranger ! feel’st, as man, such ecstasy ; 
Among us, Spirits, mad thou seem’st to be. 

Yet, as it haps, thy fortune now is omened ; 

For every year, though only for a moment, 

It is my wont to call at Manto’s dwelling, — 

She, Esculapius’ child, whose prayers are swelling 
Unto her father, that, his fame to brighten, 

VOL. II. 6 








122 FAUST. 


The brains of doctors he at last enlighten, 

And them from rashly dealing death may frighten. 
I like her best of all the guild of Sibyls, — 

Heipful and kind, with no fantastic fribbles ; 

She hath the art. if thou the time canst borrow, 
With roots of power to give thee healing thorough. 


FAUST. 


But I will not be healed! my aim is mighty: 
I will not be, like others, meanly flighty ! 


CHIRON. 


The noble fountain’s cure neglect thou not: 
But quick dismount! We ’ve reached the spot. 


FAUST. 


And whither, in this dreary night, hast thou 
To land through pebbly rivers brought me now? 


CHIRON. 


Here Rome and Greece in battle tried their powers ; 
Here flows Peneus, there Olympus towers, — 

The greatest realm that e’er was lost in sand. 

The monarch flies, the conquering burghers stand. 
Look up and see, in moonlight shining clear, 

The memorable, eternal Temple near! 


MANTO” (dreaming within). 
From horse-hoofs tremble 
The sacred steps of the Temple! 
The Demigods draw near. 


CHIRON. 
Quite right ! 
Open your eyes, and see who’s here! 











ACT I. 123 


MANTO (awaking). 
Welcome! Thou dost not fail, 1 see. 


CHIRON. 
And still thy temple stands for thee! 


MANTO. 
And speedest thou still unremitting ? 


CHIRON. 


And thou in peaceful calm art sitting, 
While 1 rejoice in restless heels ? 


MANTO. 
I wait, and Time around me wheels. 
And he? 

CHIRON. 


The vortex of this night 
Hath whirled him hither to thy sight. 
Helen, with mad, distracted senses, 
Helen he ’d win by all pretences, 
And knows not how or where the task commences ; 
But he deserves the Esculapian cure. 


MANTO. 


To whom the Impossible is lure 
I love. 
(CHIRON és already far away.) 


Rash one, advance! there ’s joy for thee! 
This dark way leads thee to Persephone. 
Under Olympus’ hollow foot, 
Secret, she waits prohibited salute. 
I smuggled Orpheus in to her, of old: 
Use thy chance better! On!—be bold! 
| They descend. 








FAUST. 


ITT. 


ON THE UPPER PENEUS, AS BEFORE, 


SIRENS. 

LUNGE in cool Peneus’ wave! 

There ’t is well to sport in swimming, 
Songs with chorded voices hymning, 
That the ill-starred folk we save. 
Health is none where water fails ! 77 
Let our hosts, with sounding pzan, 
Hasten to the blue A°gzan, ; 
Where each joy shall swell our sails. 

( Earthquake.) 

Back the frothy wave is flowing, 
Now no longer downward going ; 
Shakes the bed, the waters roar, 
Cracks and smokes the stony shore. 
Let us fly! Come, every one! 
By this marvel profit none. 
Leave, ye guests, this wild commotion 
For the cheerful sports of Ocean, 
Shining, where the quivering reaches, 
Lightly heaving, bathe the beaches, — 
There, where Luna’s double splendor 
Freshens us with night-dews tender. 
There the freest life delights us ; 
Here the threatening Earthquake frights us: 
Who is prudent, haste away! 
Fearful is it, here to stay. 


SEISMOS ® 
(growling and jolting in the depths). 
Once again the force applying, 
Bravely with the shoulders prying, 





ACT I. 125 


We to get above are trying, 
Where to us must all give way. 


SPHINXES. 


What a most repulsive shaking, 
Terrible and hideous quaking! 
What a quivering and shocking, 
Hither rolling, thither rocking ! 
What vexation and dismay! 

But we shall not change our station, 
Were all Hell in agitation. ... 

Now behold a dome upswelling, 
Wonderful! °T is 4e, compelling, — 
He, the hoary, antiquated, 

' He who Delos’ isle created, 

Bidding it from ocean break, 

For the childed woman’s sake. 

He, with all his force expended, 
Rigid arms and shoulders bended, 
Like an Atlas in his gesture 

Pushes up the earth’s green vesture, 
Loam and grit, and sand and shingle, 
Where the shore and river mingle: 
Thus our valley’s bosom quiet 
Cross-wise tears he, in his riot. 

In unwearied force defiant, 

He, a caryatid-giant, 

Bears a fearful weight of boulders, 
Buried still below his shoulders ; 
But no further shall be granted, 

For the Sphinxes here are planted.» 


SEISMOS. 


The work alone I ’ve undertaken ; 
The credit will be given to me: 


426 FAUST. 


Had I not jolted, shoved, and shaken, 

How should this world so beauteous be ? 
How stood aloft your mountains ever, 

In pure and splendid blue of air, 

Had I not heaved with huge endeavor 

Till they, like pictures, charm you there? 
When, where ancestral memory brightens, 
Old Night and Chaos saw me sore betrayed, 
And in the company of Titans 

With Pelion and Ossa as with balls we played, 
None could in ardent sport of youth surpass us, 
Until, outwearied, at the last, 

Even as a double cap, upon Parnassus 

His summits wickedly we cast. 

Apollo, now, upon that mount of wonder 
Finds with the Muses his retreat: 

For even Jove, and for his bolts of thunder, 
I heaved and held the lofty seat. 

Thus have I forced the fierce resistance 
And struggled upward from the deep; 

And summon now to new existence 

The joyous dwellers of the steep. 


SPHINXES. 


’T is true, the hill would seem primeval, 

And warranted of old to stand, 

Had we not witnessed its upheaval, 

Toiling and towering from the land. 

A bushy forest, spreading, clothes its face, 
And rocks on rocks are pressing to their place. 
A Sphinx, therefrom, is by no fear o’ertaken : 
We shall not let our sacred seats be shaken. 


GRIFFINS.® 
Gold in spangle, leaf, and spark 











ACT Il. 127 


Glimmers through the fissures dark. 
Quick, lest others should detect it, 
Haste, ye Emmets, and collect it ! 


CHORUS OF EMMETS. 


As they, the giant ones, 
Upward have thrown it, 
Quick-footed, pliant ones, 
Climb it and own it! 
Rapidly in and out! 

In each such fissure 

Is every crumb about 
Wealth for the wisher ! 
Seek for them greedily, 
Even the slightest : 
Everywhere speedily 
Gather the brightest ! 
Diligent be, and bold — 
Swarm to the fountain : 
Only bring in the Gold! 
Heed not the Mountain ! 


GRIFFINS. 


Come in! come in!— the treasure heap! 
Our claws upon it we shall keep. 

The most efficient bolts they are ; 

The greatest wealth they safely bar. 


PYGMIES. 


Verily, here we sit securely ; 

How it happened, is not clear. 

Ask not whence we came ; for surely 
’T is enough that we are here. 

Unto Life ’s delighted dwelling 
Suitable is every land ; 


128 


FAUST. 


Where a rifted rock is swelling, 

Also is the Dwarf at hand. 

Male and female, busy, steady, 

We as models would suffice : 

Who can tell if such already 

Labored so in Paradise ? 

Here our lot as best we measure, 

And our star of fate is blest: 

Mother Earth brings forth with pleasura, 
In the East as in the West. 


DACTYLS. 
If she, in a single night, 
The Pygmies brought to light, 
Pygmiest of all she ll create yet, 
And each find his mate yet! 


PYGMY-ELDERS. 
Be ye, in haste, 
Conveniently placed ! 
Labor, and lead 
Strength unto speed ! 
Peace is yet with ye, 
Build now the smithy, — 
The host be arrayed 
With armor and blade! 
Emmets, laborious, 
Working victorious, 
Scorning to settle, 
Furnish us metal ! 
Dactyls, your host, 
Smallest and most, 
Hear the requiring, 
Bring wood for firing ! 
Heap in the chambers 











ACT ff. 129 


Fuel, untiring : 
Furnish us embers! 


GENERALISSIMO. 


With arrow and bow, 
Encounter the foe! 
By yonder tanks 

The heron-ranks, 

The countless-nested, 
The haughty-breasted, 
At one quick blow 
Shoot, and bring low ! 
All together, 

That we may feather 
Our helmets so. 


EMMETS AND DACTYLS. 


Who now will save us! 
We bring the iron, 
And chains enslave us. 
To break our fetters 
Were now defiant ; 

We bide our season, — 
Meanwhile, be pliant ! 


THE CRANES OF IBYCUS.™ 


Murder-cries and moans of dying ! 
Startled wings that flap in flying ! 
What lament, what pain and fright 
Pierces to our airy height ! 

All have fallen in the slaughter, 
Reddening with their blood the water 
Pygmy-lust, misformed and cruel, 
Robs the heron of his jewel. 

On their helms the plumage waves, ~ 


6* I 





330 FAUST. 


Yonder fat-paunched, bow-lecged knaves ! 
Comrades of our files of motion, 
Serried wanderers of ocean, 
You we summon to requital 
In a cause to you so vital. 
Strength and blood let no one spare ! 
Endless hate to them we swear ! 
(They disperse, croaking in the asr.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES (on the plain). 


With ease the Northern witches I controlled, 

But o’er these foreign sprites no power I hold. 

The Blocksberg is a most convenient place ; 
Howe’er one strays, one can his path retrace. 

Dame Ilse watches for us from her stone,” 

And Henry sits upon his mountain-throne : 

The Snorers snarl at Elend — snorting peers, — 
And all is finished for a thousand years. 

But here, who knows if, even where he stand, 
Beneath his feet may not puff up the land ? 

I cheerily wander through a level glade, 

And, all at once, behind me heaved, is made 

A mountain — scarcely to be called so, true ; 

Yet high enough the Sphinxes from my view 

To intercept. ... Still many a fire flares out 

Adown the vale, the mad concern about. ... 

Still dance and hover, beckoning and retreating, 
The gay groups round me, with their knavish greeting 
But gently now! For, spoiled by stealthy pleasure, 
One always seeks to snatch some dainty treasure. 


LAMILE °3 
(drawing MEPHISTOPHELES after them). 


Quicker and quicker ! 
And further take him! 


ACT I. 131 


Then hesitating, 
Chattering and prating ! 
*T is fun to make him — 
Old, sinful Tricker ! — 
Follow behind us : 

To penance comes he 
With halt-foot clumsy ; 
He marches hobbling, 
And forwards wobbling ; 
His leg he trails 

In haste to find us ; 

We fly — he fails. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (standing still). 


Accurséd fate! Deceived, as oft ! 

Since Adam’s time seduced and scoffed ! 
Though old we grow, not wisely schooled : 
Enough already I ’ve been fooled ! 

We know, how wholly worthless is the race, 
With body corseted and painted face ; 

Of health responsive own they not a tittle, 
Where’er one grasps them, every limb is brittle. 
The thing is known, and patent to our glances, 
And yet, whene’er the trollops pipe, one dances. 


LAMIZ ( pausing). 
Halt! he reflects ; his steps delay: 
Turn back to meet him, lest he get away ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES (striding forwards). 


Forwards ! the doubt, my strength benumbing, 
I won’t encourage foolishly ; 

For were the witches not forthcoming, 

Why, who the devil would Devil be! 


132 


FAUST.~ ; 


LAMIA (very graciously), 
Round this hero lightly moving, 
Let his heart, the choice approving, 
One of us select for loving ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


True, in this uncertain lustre, 
Seem ye fair maids, in a cluster; 
Fain would I to you be juster. 


EMPUSA ( pressing forwards). 


Not me, too? I’m also fitted 
In your train to be admitted ! 


LAMIZ. 


She ’s one too many ; for, in short, 
She always ruins all our sport. 


EMPUSA (to MEPHISTOPHELES). 


Empusa, with the ass’s foot, 

Thy cousin dear, gives thee salute ! 
Only a horse’s hoof is thine, 

And yet, Sir Cousin, greeting: fine ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Strangers I here anticipated, 

And find, alas! my near-related : 

The old tale — instances by dozens — 
From Hartz to Hellas always cousins ! 


EMPUSA. 


I act with promptness and decision ; 
In many forms could meet thy vision > 
Yet in thy honor now, instead, 

Have I put on the ass’s head. 





ACT I. 133 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Great things, I see, are here portended, 
Thus with the race as kinsman blended: 
Let come what may, since I have known her — 
The ass’s head — I ’d fain disown her. 


LAMIZ. 


Leave her, the Ugly! She doth scare 
Whatever lovely seems and fair; 
Whate’er was lovely, fair to see, 
When she comes, ceases so to be. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


_ These cousins also, — soft, delicious, 
Are one and all to me suspicious : 

I fear, beneath their cheeks of roses 
Some metamorphosis reposes. 


LAMIZ. 


But try — take hold! For we are many, 
And if thou hast a lucky penny, 

Secure thyself the highest prize ! 

What means thy wanton organ-grinding ? 

A wretched wooer ’t is, we ’re finding, 

Yet swagger’st thus, and seem’st so wise! . oc 
Now one of us will he lay hand on, 

So by degrees your masks abandon, 

And show your natures to his eyes ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
The fairest here have I selected. ... 
(Clasping her.) 
O, what a broomstick, unexpected ! 
(Grasping another.) 
And this one?... Vilest countenance ! 


334 FAUST. 


LAMIA. 
Think not thou ’rt worth a better chance! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


That little one, she warms my gizzard. ... 
But through my hand she slips, a lizard ; 
Her smooth braids, snaky-like, intwine. 

I try the tall one, yet she worse is, — 

I only grasp a Bacchic thyrsus, 

The head a scaly cone of pine. 

What follows next? Behold a fat one: 
Perhaps I ’ll find delight in ¢Aa¢ one, 

So, once for all, the chance renew ! 

The Turks, for one so puffy, flabby, 
Would pay a price by no means shabby... 
But, ah! the puff-ball bursts in two! 


LAMIZ£. 
Now scatter widely, hovering, feigning, 
In lightning-like, dark flight enchaining 
The interloping witch’s-son ! 
Uncertain circles, awful, poiseless ! 
Horrid bat-wings, flying noiseless ! 
He ’scapes too cheaply, when it’s done. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (shaking himself). 


I ve not become, it seems, a great deal shrewder; 
The North’s absurd, ’t is here absurder, ruder, 
The spectres here preposterous as there, 

People and poets shallow ware. 

This masquerade resembles quite — 

As everywhere — a dance of appetite. 

I sought a lovely masked procession, 

And caught such things, 1 stood aghast. ... 





ACT 11. 135 


I’d give myself a false impression, 
If this would only longer last. 


(Losing himself among the rocks.) 


Where am I then? and whither sped ? 

There was a path; ’t isenow a dread. 

By level ways I ’ve wandered hither, 

Where rubble now is piled together. 

I clamber up and down in vain; 

Where shall I find my Sphinx again? 

I had not dreamed so mad a sight, — 

A mountain in a single night! 

A bold witch-journey, to my thought: 

Their Blocksberg with them they have brought. 


OREAD (from the natural rock).° 


Come up to me! My mountain old 

In its primeval form behold! 

Revere the steep and rocky stairs, ascending 

Where Pindus’ offshoots with the plain are blending ! 
Unshaken, thus I heaved my head 

When o’er my shoulders Pompey fled. 

Beside me this illusive rock 

Will vanish at the crow of cock. 

I see such fables oft upthrown, 

And suddenly again go down. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Honor to thee, thou reverend Head, 
With strength of oak engarlanded ! 
The clearest moonlight never cleaves 
The darkness of your crowded leaves. 
I see between the bushes go 

A light, with unpretending glow. 
How all things fit and balance thus! 


136 FAUST. 


"T is verily Homunculus. 
Now whence thy way, thou little lover ? 


HOMUNCULUS. 


From place to place I flit and hover, 

And, in the best sense, I would*fain exist, 

And most impatient am, my glass to shatter: 
But what till now I ’ve witnessed, is ’t 

Then strange if I mistrust the matter ? 

Yet I ’ll be confidential, if thou list: 

I follow two Philosophers this way. 

*T was “ Nature!” “ Nature!” —all I heard them say; 
I "ll cling to them, and see what they are seeing, 
For they must understand this earthly being, 
And I shall doubtless learn, in season, 

Where to betake me with the soundest reason. 


MEPHISTOPHELES., 
Then do it of thy own accord! 
For here, where spectres from their hell come, 
Is the philosopher also welcome. 
That so his art and favor delectate you, 
At once a dozen new ones he ’ll create you. 
Unless thou errest, thou wilt ne’er have sense ; 
Wouldst thou exist, thyself the work commence ! 


HOMUNCULUS. 
Good counsel, also, is not to reject. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Then go thy way! We further will inspect. 
[ They separate. 
ANAXAGORAS (fo THALES). 


Thy stubborn mind will not be rightened : 
What else is needful, that thou be enlightened ? 





ACT JI. 137 


THALES. 
To every wind the billows yielding are ; 
Yet from the cliff abrupt they keep themselves afar. 


ANAXAGORAS. 
By fiery vapors rose this rock you ’re seeing. 


THALES. 
In moisture came organic life to being. 


HOMUNCULUS (éetween the two). 


To walk with you may I aspire? 
To come to being is my keen desire. 


ANAXAGORUS. 


Hast thou, O Thales! ever in a night 
Brought forth from mud such mountain to the light? 


THALES. 


Nature, the living current of her powers, 

Was never bound to Day and Night and Hours ; 
She makes each form by rules that never fail, 
And ’t is not Force, even on a mighty scale.” 


ANAXAGORAS. 


But here it was / — Plutonic fire, the shaper! 
Explosive force of huge /Zolian vapor 

Broke through the level Earth’s old crust primeval, 
And raised the new hill with a swift upheaval ! 


THALES. 
What further shall therefrom result? The hill 
Is there: ’t is well !—so let it stand there still ! 
In such a strife one loses leisure precious, 
Yet only leads the patient folk in leashes. 


138 FAUST. 


ANAXAGORAS. 


The Mountain’s rocky clefts at once 
Are peopled thick with Myrmidons, 
With Pygmies, Emmets, Fingerlings, 
And other active little things. 

(Zo HOMUNCULUS.) 


To greatness hast thou ne’er aspired, 
But lived an eremite retired ; 

Canst thou persuade thy mind to govern, 
I ‘ll have thee chosen as their sovereign. 





HOMUNCULUS. 
What says my Thales? 


THALES. 


— Will not recommend : 
For small means only unto small deeds tend, 
But great means make the small man great. 
See there! The Cranes, with purpose heinous! — 
The troubled populace they menace, 
And they would menace thus the king. 
With pointed beaks and talons ample 
The little men they pierce and trample : 
Doom comes already thundering. 
It was a crime, the heron-slaughter, 
Beset amid their peaceful water ; 
But from that rain of arrows deadly 
A fell revenge arises redly, 
And calls the kindred o’er the flood 
To spill the Pygmies’ guilty blood. 
What use for shield and helm and spear? 
Or for the dwarfs the heron-feather ? 
Dactyl and Emmet hide together : 
Their cohorts scatter, seek the rear! 








ACT 7. 139 


ANAXAGORAS 


(after a pause, solemnly). 
Though I the subterranean powers approve, 
Yet help, in this case, must be sought above. ... 
O thou aloft, in grace and vigor vernal, 
Tri-named, tri-featured, and eternal, 
By all my people’s woe I cry to thee, 
Diana, Luna, Hecaté ! 
Thou breast-expanding One, thou deeply-pondering, 
Thou calmly-shining One, majestic wandering, 
The fearful craters of thy shade unseal, 
And free from spells thine ancient might reveal ! 
( Passe.) 
Am I too swiftly heard ? 
Has then my cry 
To yonder sky, 
The course of Nature from its orbit stirred ? 


And greater, ever greater, drawing near, 
Behold the Goddess’ orbéd throne appear, 
Enormous, fearful in its grimness, 

With fires that redden through the dimness!... 
No nearer! Disk of dread, tremendous, 

Lest thou, with land and sea, to ruin send us! 
Then were it true, Thessalian Pythonesses ® 
With guilty spells, as Song confesses, 

Once from thy path thy steps enchanted, 

Till fatal gifts by thee were granted?... 

The shield of splendor slowly darkles, 

Then suddenly splits, and shines, and sparkles! 
What rattling and what hissing follow, 

With roar of winds and thunders hollow ! — 
Before thy throne I speak my error. ... 

O, pardon! J invoked the terror. 


(Casts himself upon his face.) 


140 FA OST. 


THALES. 


How many things can this man see and hear) 
What happed, is not to me entirely clear ; 
I’ve not, like him, experienced it. 

The Hours are crazy, we ll admit; 

For Luna calmly shines, and free, 

In her high place, as formerly. 





HOMUNCULUS. 


Look yonder where the Pygmies fied ! 
The round Hill has a pointed head. 

I felt a huge rebound and shock ; 

Down from the moon had fallen the rock, 
And then, without the least ado, 

Both foe and friend it smashed and slew. 
I praise such arts as these, that show 
Creation in a night fulfilled ; 

That from above and from below 

At once this mountain-pile could build. 


THALES. 


Be still! ’T was but imagined so. 
Farewell, then, to the ugly brood ! 
That thou wast not their king, is good. 
Off to the cheerful festals of the Sea! 
There as a marvellous guest, they "ll honor thee. 
[ They depart 
MEPHISTOPHELES 

(climbing up the opposite side). 
Here must I climb by steep and rocky stairways, 
And roots of ancient oaks — the vilest rare ways ! 
Upon my Hartz, the resinous atmosphere 
Gives hint of pitch, to me almost as dear 
As sulphur is, — but here, among these Greeks, _ 





ACT I. 141 


For such a smell one long and vainly seeks; 
And curious am | — for ’t is worth the knowing — 
To find wherewith they keep their fires of Hell a-going, 


DRYAD. 


At home, be wise as it befits thee there; 

Abroad, thou hast no cleverness to spare. 

Thou shouldst not homeward turn thy mind, but here 
The honor of the ancient oaks revere. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


One thinks on all relinquished there; 

Use made it Paradise, and keeps it fair. 

But say, what is ’t, in yonder cave 

Obscure, a crouching triple-shape resembling ? 


. DRYAD. 


The Phorkyads!® Go there, if thou art brave ; 
Address them, if thou canst, untrembling! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Why not! . . I something see, and am dumbfounded ! 

Proud as I am, I must confess the truth: 

I’ve never seen their like, in sooth, — 

Worse than our hags, an Ugliness unbounded ! 

How can the Deadly Sins then ever be 

Found ugly in the least degree, 

When one this triple dread shall see ? 

We would not suffer them to dwell 

Even at the dreariest door of Hell; 

But here, in Beauty’s land, the Greek, 

They ’re famed, because they ’re called antique.... 

They stir, they seem to scent my coming; 

Like vampire-bats, they ’re squeaking, twittering, hum 
ming. 


142 FAUST. 


THE PHORKYADS. 


Give me the eye, my sisters, that it spy 
Who to our temple ventures now so nigh. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Most honored Dame! Approaching, by your leave, 
Grant that your triple blessing I receive. 

I come, though still unknown, yet, be it stated, 

If I mistake not, distantly related. 

Old, reverend Gods, already did I see; 

To Ops and Rhea have I bowed the knee ; 

The Parce even — your sisters — yesterday, 

Or day before, they came across my way; 

And yet the like of you ne’er met my sight: 

Silent am I, and ravished with delight. 


THE PHORKYADS. 
This spirit seems to have intelligence. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


I am amazed no poet has the sense 

To sing your praises, — say, how can it be 

That we no pictures of your beauty see ? 

Should not, through you, the chisel strive to wean us 
From shapes like those of Juno, Pallas, Venus? 


THE PHORKYADS. 


Sunken in solitude and stillest night, 
The mind of us ne’er took so far a flight. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
How should it, then? since here, concealed from view, 
None ever see you, none are seen by you! 
But choose those dwelling-places, and be known, 








ACT II. 143 


Where Art and Splendor share an equal throne ; 
Where swift, with double tread, day after day, 
A marble block as hero walks away ; 

Where — 


THE PHORKYADS. 


Cease, and rouse in us no longer vision! 
What profit, if we knew them with precision ? — 
We, born in night, akin to gloom alone, 
Unto ourselves almost, to others quite, unknown. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
In such a case there ’s little more to say, 
But one one’s self to others can convey. 
One eye supplies you three, one tooth as well, 
So were it mythologically possible 
In two the being of the Three to cover, 
And unto me the third fair form make over, 
A short time, only. 


' ONE. 
Will it do, forsooth ? 


THE OTHERS. 
We 'll try it !— but without or eye or tooth. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Now just the best thing have you taken away. 
How shall I then the image stern display ? 


ONE. 


T is easily done: just close one eye, 

And let thy one side-tusk be seen thereby : 
In profile, thus, with not a trait diminished, 
Thy sisterly resemblance will be finished. 


144 PAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
So be it, then ! 


THE PHORKYADS. 
So be it! 


MEPHISTOPHELES 
(as PHORKYAD in profile). 


Me behold, 
The much-beloved son of Chaos old! 


THE PHORKYADS. 
Daughters of Chaos are we, by good right. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Disgrace! They ’ll call me now hermaphrodite. 


THE PHORKYADS. 


In our new sister-triad what a beauty ! 
Two eyes have we, two teeth, for further duty. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Now from all eyes I'll hide this visage fell, 
To fright the devils in the pool of Hell. 
[Exit 


ACT I. 145 


IV. 


ROCKY COVES OF THE ASGEAN SEA.» 
The Moon delaying in the Zenith. 


SIRENS 
(couched upon the cliffs around, fiuting and singing). 
HOUGH erewhile, by spells nocturnal, 
Thee Thessalian hags infernal 
Downward drew, with guilt intended, — 
Look, from where thine arch is bended, 
On the multitudinous, splendid 
Twinkles of the billowy Ocean! 
Shine upon the throngs in motion 
O’er the waters, wild and free ! 
To thy service vowed are we: 
Fairest Luna, gracious be! 


NEREIDS AND TRITONS 
(a Wonders of the Sea). 


Call with clearer, louder singing, 
Through the Sea’s broad bosom ringing, 
Call the tenants of the Deep! 
When the storm swept unimpeded 
We to stillest depths receded ; 
Forth at sound of song we leap. 
See! delighted and elated, 
We ourselves have decorated, 
With our golden crowns have crowned us, 
With our spangled girdles bound us, 
Chains and jewels hung around us! 
All are spoils which you purvey ! 

VOL. Il. 7 J 


146 


FAUST. 


Treasures, here in shipwreck swallowed, 
You have lured, and we have. followed 
You, the Demons of our bay. 


SIRENS. 


In the crystal cool, delicious, 
Smoothly sport the happy fishes, 
Pliant lives that nothing mar ; 
Yet, ye festive crowds that gather, 
We, to-day, would witness, rather, 
That ye more than fishes are. 


NEREIDS AND TRITONS. 


We, before we hither wandered, 
Thoroughly the question pondered : 
Sisters, Brothers, speed afar ! 
Briefest travel, light endurance, 
Yield the validest assurance 

That we more than fishes are. 


[ TAcy depart. 
SIRENS. 


Off ! they have left the place, 

Steering away to Samothrace,* 

Vanished with favoring wind. 

What is their purpose there, in the dreary 
Domain of the lofty Cabiri? 

Gods are they, but the strangest crew, 
Ever begetting themselves anew, 

And unto their own being blind. 


In thy meridian stay, 

Luna ! — graciously delay, 

That the Night still embrace us, 
And the Day not chase us! 





ACT I. 147 


THALES 
(on the shore, to HOMUNCULUS). 


I fain would lead thee unto Nereus old. 
Not distant are we from his cavern cold, 
But stubbornness is his delight, 

The peevish and repulsive wight. 
Howe’er the human race has tried, 

The Grumbler’s never satisfied: 

Yet he the Future hath unsealed, 

And men thereto their reverence yield, 
And give him honor in his station. 
‘Many his benefits have tasted. 


HOMUNCULUS., 


Then let us try, without more hesitation ! 
My glass and flame will not at once be wasted. 


NEREUS. 


Are human voices those that reach mine ear ? 
At once my wrath is kindled, keen and clear. 
Aspiring forms, that high as Gods would ramble, 
Yet ever damned their own selves to resemble. 
In ancient years could I divinely rest, 

Yet was impelled to benefit the Best ; 

And when, at last, I saw my deeds completed, 

It fully seemed as were the work defeated. 


THALES. 


And yet we trust thee, Graybeard of the Sea! 
Thou art the Wise One: drive us not from thee! 
Behold this Flame, in man’s similitude : 

It yields itself unto thy counsel good. 


NEREUS. 
What! Counsel? When did ever men esteem it? 


Wise words in hard ears are but lifeless lore. 
Oft as the Act may smite them when they scheme it, 
The People are as self-willed as before. 

How warned I Paris, in paternal trust, 

Before a foreign woman woke his lust! 

Upon the Grecian strand he stood so bold ; 

I saw in spirit, and to him foretold 

The smoky winds, the overwhelming woe, 
Beams all a-blaze, murder and death below, — 
Troy’s judgment-day, held fast in lofty rhyme, 
A terror through a thousand years of time! 

My words seemed sport unto the reckless one : 
His lust he followed: fallen was Ilion, — 

A giant carcass, stiff, and hacked with steel, 
To Pindus’ eagles ’t was a welcome meal. 
Ulysses, too! cid I not him presage 

The wiles of Circe and the Cyclops’ rage? 

His paltering mind, his crew’s inconstant strain, 
And what not all? —and did it bring him gain? 
Till him, though late, the favoring billow bore, 
A much-tossed wanderer, to the friendly shore. 


THALES. 


Such conduct, truly, gives the wise man pain, 
And yet the good man once will try again. 
An ounce of gratitu‘le, his help repaying, 
Tons of ingratitude he sees outweighing. 
And nothing trifling now we beg of thee ; 
The boy here wishes to be born, and be. 


NEREUS. 
Let not my rarest mood be spoiled, I pray! 
Far other business waits for me to-day. 
I’ve hither bidden, by the wave and breeze, 
The Graces of the Sea, the Dorides.* 








ACT II. 149 


Olympus bears not, nor your lucent arch, 
Such lovely forms, in such a lightsome march: 
They fling themselves, in wild and wanton dalliance, 
From the sea-dragons upon Neptune’s stallions, 
Blent with the element so freely, brightly, 
That even the foam appears to lift them lightly. 
In Venus’ chariot-shell, with hues of morn, 
Comes Galatea, now the fairest, borne; 
Who, since that Cypris turned from us her face, 
In Paphos reigns as goddess in her place. 
Thus she, our loveliest, long since came to own, 
As heiress, templed town and chariot-throne. 
Away! the father’s hour of rapture clips 
Hate from the heart, and harshness from the lips. 
Away to Proteus! Ask that wondrous man 
Of Being’s and of Transformation’s plan! 
[He retires towards the sea. 


THALES. 


We, by this step, gain nothing: one may meet 
Proteus, and straight he melts, dissolving fleet. 
Though he remain, he only says 
That which confuses and astonishes. 
However, of such counsel thou hast need; 
So, at a venture, let us thither speed! 
[ They depart 
SIRENS (on the rocks above). 


What is ’t, that, far advancing, 
Glides o’er the billows dancing ? 

As, when the winds are shifted, 
Shine snowy sails, uplifted, 

So shine they o’er the waters, 
Transfigured Ocean-daughters. 

We ’Ill clamber down, and, near them, 
Behold their forms, and hear them. 


150 


FAUST. 


NEREIDS AND TRITONS. 
What in our hands we bear you 
Much comfort shall prepare you. 
Chelone’s buckler giant 
Shines with its forms defiant : — 
They ’re Gods that we are bringing 
High songs must you be singing! 


SIRENS. 
Small to the sight, 
Great in their might, — 
Saviours of the stranded, 
Ancient Gods, and banded. 


NEREIDS AND TRITONS. 
We bring you the Cabiri 
To festals calm and cheery ; 
For where their sway extendeth 
Neptune the realm befriendeth. 


SIRENS. 
We yield to your claim ; 
When a shipwreck came, 
Irresistibly you 
Protected the crew. 


NEREIDS AND TRITONS. 
Three have we brought hither,* 
The fourth refused us altogether: 
He was the right one, said he, — 
Their only thinker ready. 


SIRENS. 
One God the other God 
Smites with the scoffer’s rod: 
Honor all grace they bring, 
Fear all evil they fling ! 





ACT I. Ist 


NEREIDS AND TRITONS. 
Seven are they, really. 


SIRENS. 
Where, then, stay the other three ? 


NEREIDS AND TRITONS. 


The truth we cannot gather: 

Ask on Olympus, rather ! 

There pines the eighth, forgotten, 
By no one ever thought on! 

In grace to us entreated, 

But not yet all completed. 


These incomparable, unchainable,™ 
Are always further yearning, 

With desire and hunger burning 
For the Unattainable! 


SIRENS. 


These are our ways: 

The God that sways 

Sun, Moon, or other blaze, 
We worship : for it pays. 


NEREIDS AND TRITONS. 


Highest glory for us behold, 
Leading these festals cheery ! 


SIRENS. 


The heroes of the ancient time 

Fail of their glory’s prime, 

Where and howe’er it may unfold; 

Though they have won the Fleece of Gold, — 
Ye, the Cabiri ! 


152 FAUST. 


(Repeated as full chorus.) 


Though they have won the Fleece of Gold, — 
We! Ye! the Cabiri! 


(Zhe NEREIDS and TRITONS move past.) 


HOMUNCULUS. 


These Malformations, every one, 
Had earthen pots for models : 9% 
Against them now the wise men run, 
And break their stubborn noddles. 


THALES. 


That is the thing one wishes, just! 
The coin takes value from its rust. 


PROTEUS (unpercerved). 


This pleases me, the old fable-ranger! 
The more respectable, the stranger. 


THALES. 
Where art thou, Proteus ? 


PROTEUS 
(speaking ventriloqually, now near, now at a distance). 
Here! and here! 


THALES. 


I pardon thee thine ancient jeer. 
Cheat not a friend with vain oration : 
Thou speak’st, I know, from a delusive station. 


PROTEUS (as éf at a distance). 
Farewell ! 
THALES (softly to HOMUNCULUS). 


He is quite near: shine brilliantly} 
For curious as a fish is he; 














ACT II. 153 


And in whatever form he hide, 
A flame will make him hither glide. 


HOMUNCULUS. 


At once a flood of light I'll fling, 
. Yet softly, lest the glass should spring. 


PROTEUS 
(in the form of a giant tortotse). 
What shines so fair, so graciously ? 


THALES (covering HOMUNCULUS). 
Good! If thou wishest, canst thou nearer see. 
Be not annoyed to take a little trouble, 
And show thyself on man’s foundation double. 
What we disclose, to whomsoe’er would see it, 
With our will only, by our favor, be it! 


PROTEUS (i2 a noble form). 
Still world-wise pranks thou failest to forget. 


THALES. 
To change thy form remains thy pleasure yet. 
(He uncovers HOMUNCULUS.) 


. PROTEUS (astonished). 
A shining dwarf! The like I ne’er did see ! 


THALES. 


He asks thy counsel, he desires to be. 
He is, as I myself have heard him say, 
(The thing ’s a marvel!) only born half-way. 
He has no lack of qualities ideal, 
But far too much of palpable and real.* 
Till now the glass alone has given him weight, 
And he would fain be soon incorporate. 
7* 


154 FAUST. 


PROTEUS. 


Thou art a genuine virgin’s-son : 
Finished, ere thou shouldst be begun ! 


THALES (whispering). 
Viewed from another side, the thing seems critical: 
He is, methinks, hermaphroditical ! 


PROTEUS. 


Then all the sooner ’t will succeed : 

Let him but start, ’t will be arranged with speed. 
No need to ponder here his origin ; 

On the broad ocean’s breast must thou begin ! 
One starts there first within a narrow pale,” 
And finds, destroying lower forms, enjoyment: 
Little by little, then, one climbs the scale, 

And fits himself for loftier employment. 


HOMUNCULUS. 


Here breathes and blows a tender air; 
And I delight me in the fragrance rare. 


PROTEUS. 
Yea, verily, my loveliest stripling ! 
And farther on, far more enjoyable. 
Around yon narrow spit the waves are rippling, 
The halo bright and undestroyable ! 
There to the host we ’ll nearer be, 
Now floating hither o’er the sea. 
Come with me there! 


THALES. 
I'll go along. 
HOMUNCULUS. 
A spirit-purpose, triply strong ! 


ACT I. 155 


V. 


TELCHINES OF RHODES.#% 


On Sea-Frorses and Sea-Dragons, wielding Neptune's Trident. 


CHORUS. 


E ’ve forged for old Neptune the trident that urges 
To smoothness and peace the refractory surges 
When Jove tears the clouds of the tempest asunder, 
*T is Neptune encounters the roll of the thunder: 
The lightnings above may incessantly glow, 
But wave upon wave dashes up from below, 
And all that, between them, the terrors o’erpower, 
Long tossed and tormented, the Deep shall devour; 
. And thence he hath lent us his sceptre to-day. — 
Now float we contented, in festal array. 


SIRENS. 


- You, to Helios consecrated, 
To the bright Day’s blessing fated, — 
You to this high Hour we hail: 
Luna’s worship shall prevail ! 


TELCHINES. 


O loveliest Goddess by night over-vaulted! 

Thou hearest with rapture thy brother exalted : 
To listen to Rhodes thou wilt lean from the skies ; 
To him, there, the pzans eternally rise. 

When the day he begins, when he ends its career, 
His beam is the brightest that falls on us here. 
The mountains, the cities, the sea and the shore, 
Are lovely and bright to the God they adore: 


156 FAUST. 


No mist hovers o’er us, and should one appear, 

A beam and a brecze, and the Island is clear! 
There Phcebus his form may by hundreds behold, — 
Colossal, as youth, as the Gentle, the Bold; 

For we were the first whose devotion began 

To shape the high Gods in the image of Man. 





PROTEUS. 


But leave them to their boasting, singing ! 
_ Beside the holy sunbeams, bringing 

All life, their dead works are a jest. 

They melt and cast, with zeal impassioned. 

And what they once in bronze have fashioned, 

They think it ’s something of the best. 

These proud ones are at last made lowly : 

The forms of Gods, that stood and shone, 

Were by an earthquake overthrown, 

And long since have been melted wholly. 

This earthly toil, whate’er it be, 

Is never else than drudgery: 

A better life the waves declare thee,’ 

And now to endless seas shall bear thee 

Proteus- Dolphin. 


(/7e transforms himself.) 
*T is done! Behold! 
Unto thy fairest fortune waken : 


Upon my back shalt thou be taken, 
And wedded to the Ocean old. 


THALES. 
Yield to the wish so wisely stated, 
And at the source be thou created! 
Be ready for the rapid plan! 
There, by eternal canons wending, 





ACT Ui. 157 


Through thousand, myriad forms ascending, 
Thou shalt attain, in time, to Man. 


(HOMUNCULUS mounts the Proteus-Dolphin.) 


PROTEUS. 


In spirit seek the watery distance! 
Boundless shall there be thine existence, 
And where to move, thy will be free. 
But struggle not to higher orders ! 

Once Man, within the human borders, 
Then all is at an end for thee. 


THALES. 


That’s as it haps: ’tis no ill fate . 
In one’s own day to be true man and great. 


PROTEUS (fo THALES). 


Some one, perchance, of thine own kind ! 
Their lives continue long, I find; 

For with thy pallid phantom-peers 

I’ve seen thee now for many hundred years. 


SIRENS (02 the rocks). 


See! what rings of cloudlets, gliding 
Round the moon, in circles play ! 
They are doves whom Love is guiding, 
With their wings as white as day. 
Paphos hither sends them fleetly, 

All her ardent birds, to us, 

And our festival completely 

Crowns with purest rapture, thus ! 


NEREUS (advancing to THALES). 


Though some nightly wanderer’s vision 
Deem yon ring an airy spcctre, 


158 


FAUST. 


We, the spirits, with decision 
Entertain a view correcter : 

They are doves, whose convoy gathers 
Round my daughter’s chariot-shell, 
With a flight of wondrous spell, 
Learned in old days of the fathers. 


THALES. 


That I also think is best,” 

Which the true man comfort gives, 
When in warm and peaceful nest 
Something holy for him lives. 


PSYLLI AND MARSI '@ 
(on sea-bulls, sea-heifers and sea-rams). 


In hollow caves on Cyprus’ shore, 

By the Sea-God still unbattered, 

Not yet by Seismos shattered, 

By eternal winds breathed o’er, 

And still, as in days that are measured, 
Contented and silently pleasured, 

The chariot of Cypris we ’ve treasured. 

By the murmurs, the nightly vibrations, 
O’er the waves and their sweetest pulsations, 
Unseen to the new generations, 

The loveliest daughter we lead. 

We fear not, as lightly we hie on, 

Either Eagle or wing-lifted Lion, 

Either Crescent or Cross, 

Though the sky it emboss, — 

Though it changefully triumphs and flashes, 
In defeat to forgetfulness dashes, 

Lays the fields and the cities in ashes! 
Straightway, with speed, 

The loveliest of mistresses forth we lead. 





ACT J. 


SIRENS. 
Lightly moved, with paces graver, 
Circle round the car again; 
Line on line inwoven, waver 
Snake-like in a linking chain, — 
Stalwart Nereids, come, enring us, 
Rudest women, wild and free; 
Tender Dorides, ye bring us 
Her, the Mother of the Sea, — 
Galatea, godlike woman, 
Worthiest immortality, 
Yet, like those of lineage human, 
Sweet with loving grace is she. 


_ DORIDES 
(i chorus, mounted on dolphins, passing NEREUS). 
Lend us, Luna, light and shadow, 
Show this youthful flower and fire! 
For we bring beloved spouses, 
Praying for them to our sire. 


(Zo NEREUS.) 


They are boys, whom we have rescued 
From the breaker’s teeth of dread ; 
They, on reeds and mosses bedded, 
Back to light and life we led: 

Now must they, with glowing kisses, 
Thank us for the granted blisses ; 
On the youths thy favor shed ! 


NEREUS. 





Lo, now! what double gains your deed requite ! 


You show compassion, and you take delight. 


160 


FAUST. 


DORIDES. 


If thou praisest our endeavor, 
Father, grant the fond request, — 
Let us hold them fast forever 

On each young, immortal breast. 


NEREUS. 
Take joy in what you ’ve finely captured, 
And shape to men the youthful crew; 
I cannot grant the boon enraptured 
Which only Zeus can give to you. 
The billows, as they heave and rock you, 
Allow to love no firmer stand, 
So, when these fancies fade and mock you, 
Send quietly the youths to land. 


DORIDES. 


Fair boys, we must part, forsooth ; 
Yet we love you, we vow it! 

We have asked for eternal truth, 
But the Gods will not allow it 


THE YOUTHS. 


We sailor-boys, if still you would 
Give love, as first you gave it, 
We ’ve never had a life so good, 
And would not better have it! 


(GALATEA approaches on her chariot of shell.) ** 


NEREUS. 
*T is thou, O my darling! 


GALATEA. 


O, Sire! what delight 
Linger, ye dolphins! I cling to the sight. 








ACT I. 161 


NEREUS. 


Already past, they swiftly wander 

On, in circling courses wheeling ! 

What care they for the heart’s profoundest feeling ? 
Ah, would they took me with them yonder ! 

Yet a single glance can cheer 

All the livelong barren year. 


THALES. 


Hail! All hail! with newer voices: 

How my spirit rejoices, 

By the True and the Beautiful penetrated ! 
From Water was everything first created! 
Water doth everything still sustain ! 

Ocean, grant us thine endless reign ! 

If the clouds thou wert sending not, 

The swelling streams wert spending not, 
The winding rivers bending not, 

And all in thee were ending not, 

Could mountains, and plains, and the world itself, be ? 
The freshest existence is nourished by thee ! 


ECHO 
(chorus of the collective circles). 
The freshest existence flows ever from thee! 


NEREUS. 


They turn and wheel again, afar ; 

No longer face to face they are. 

In linking circles, wide extending, — 
In their festive dances blending, — 
The countless cohorts now appear. 
But Galatea’s chariot-shell 

Still I see, and see it well: 





162 FAUST. 


It shines like a star 

Through the crowds intwining. 

Love from the tumult still is shining ! 

Though ne’er so far, 

It shimmers bright and clear, | 
Ever true and near. 


HOMUNCULUS. 


This softly heaving brine on, 
Whatever I may shine on 
Is all with beauty crowned. 


PROTEUS. 


Within this moisture living, 
Thy lamp now first is giving 
A clear and splendid sound. 


NEREUS. 
What mystery new, ’mid the crowds that are wheeling, 
Is now to our vision its wonders revealing ? 
What flames round the shell at the feet of the Queen? — 
Now flaring in force, and now shining serene, 
As if by the pulses of love it were fed. 


THALES. 


Homunculus is it, by Proteus misled!... 

And these are the signs of imperious yearning, 
The presage of swelling, impatiently spurning : 
He ’ll shiver his glass on the glittering throne — 
He glows and he flashes, and now he hath flown! 


SIRENS. 


What fiery marvel the billows enlightens,’ 
As one on the other is broken and brightens ? 


ACT Il. 163 


It flashes, and wavers, and hitherward plays! 
On the path of the Night are the bodies ablaze, 
And all things around are with flames overrun : 
Then Eros be ruler, who all things begun! 
Hail, ye Waves! Hail, Sea unbounded, 
By the holy Fire surrounded ! 
Water, hail! Hail, Fire, the splendid! 
Hail, Adventure rarely ended ! 


ALL TOGETHER. 
Hail, ye Airs that softly flow! 
Hail, ye caves of Earth below! 
Honored now and evermore 
Be the Elemental Four! 


164 FAUST. 


ACT ITI. 


BEFORE THE PALACE OF MENELAUS IN 
SPARTA. 


HELENA enters, with the CHORUS of Captive Trojan Women. 
PANTHALIS, Leader of the Chorus. 


HELENA." 


| MUCH admired and much reviled, — I, Helena, 

, Come from the strand where we have disembarked 
but now, 

Still giddy from the restless rocking of the waves 

Of Ocean, which from Phrygian uplands hitherwards 

On high, opposing backs — Poseidon’s favor won 

And Euros’ strength — have borne us to our native bay. 

Below there, with the bravest of his warriors, now 

King Menelaus feels the joy of his return; 

But thou, O bid me welcome back, thou lofty House 

Which Tyndarus, my father, on the gentle slope, 

Returning from the Hill of Pallas, builded up; 

And when I here with Clytemnestra sister-like, 

With Castor and with Pollux gayly sporting, grew, 

Before all Sparta’s houses nobly was adorned. 

Ye valves of yon dark iron portals, ye I hail! 

Once through your festive and inviting opening 

It happened that to me, from many singled out, 

The coming of the bridegroom Menelaus shone. 

Unfold again for me, that I the King’s command 








ACT Ill. 165 


Fulfil with strictness, as unto a spouse is meet: 

Give entrance now, and let all things be left behind 
Which hitherto have stormed upon me, full of doom! 
For, since this place all unsuspicious I forsook 

For Cytherza’s fane, as holy duty called, 

But there the robber seized me, he the Phrygian, — 
Happened have many things, which people far and wide 
So fain relate, but which so fain hears not the one 

Of whom the legend rose, and to a fable grew. 


CHORUS. 


Disdain thou not, O beautiful Dame, 
Possession proud of the highest estate ! 

For the greatest fortune is thine alone, 

The fame of beauty that towers o’er all. 
The name of the hero heralds his path, 
Thence proudly he strides ; 

Yet bends at ance the stubbornest man, 
And yields to all-conquering Beauty’s might. 


HELENA. 
Enough, with mine own spouse have I been hither 
shipped, 
And now by him beforehand to his city sent; 
Yet what his purposes may be, I fail to guess. 
Do I come here as wife? Or do I come as queen? 
Or come, an offering for the Prince’s bitter pain, 
And for the long-endured misfortune of the Greeks ? 
For they, the Immortals, verily fixed my Fame and Fate 
Ambiguously, attendants twain of doubtful worth 
To Beauty, who upon this very threshold stand 
With gloomy and with threatening presence at my side. 
Then, even, in the hollow ship, but seldom looked 
My spouse on me, nor ever word of comfort spake : 


166 FAUST. 


As if he brooded evil, fronting me he sat. 

But now, when speeding towards the strand of that deep 
cove 

Eurotas makes, scarce had the foremost vessels’ prows 

The land saluted, than he spake, as urged the Gods: 

“ Here, in their ordered rank, my warriors disembark ; 

Them shall I muster, ranged along the ocean-strand. 

But thou go ever onwards, up the hallowed banks 

Of fair Eurotas, dowered with gifts of plenteous fruit, 

Guiding the stallions o’er the bloom of watery meads, 

Till there, on that most lovely plain thy journey ends, 

Where Lacedemon, once a fruitful spreading field, 

Surrounded by austerest mountains, built its seat. 

Set thou thy foot within the high-towered princely House, 

And muster well the maids, whom there behind I left, 

Together with the old and faithful Stewardess. 

Let her display to thee the wealth of treasures stored, 

Even as thy father them bequeathed, and I myself, 

In war and peace accumulating, have amassed. 

All things shalt thou in ancient order find: because 

It is the Ruler’s privilege, that he all things 

In faithful keeping find, returning to his house, — 

Where’er he may have left it, each thing in its place; 

For power to change in aught possesses not the slave.” 


CHORUS. 


Let now the splendid, accumulate wealth 
Rejoice and cheer thee, in eye and heart ! 

For the gleam of chain and the glory of crown 
Are lying idly in haughty repose : 

But enter thou in and challenge them all, 

And they will respond. 

I rejoice to witness Beauty compete 

With gold and pearl and the jewel-stone. 








ACT I. 167 


HELENA. , 


Thereafter further came my lord’s imperious speech: 
“ Now when all things in order thou inspected hast, 
Then take so many tripods as thou needful deem’st, 
And vessels manifold, such as desires at hand 

Who offers to the Gods, fulfilling holy use, — 

The kettles, also bowls, the shallow basin’s disk; 
The purest water from the sacred fountain fill 

In lofty urns; and further, also ready hold 

The well-dried wood that rapidly accepts the flame; 
And let the knife, well-sharpened, fail not finally ; 
Yet all besides will I relinquish to thy care.” 

So spake he, urging my departure; but no thing 

Of living breath did he, who ordered thus, appoint, 
That shall, to honor the Olympian Gods, be slain. 
’T is critical; and yet I banish further care, 

And let all things be now to the high Gods referred, 
Who that fulfil, whereto their minds may be disposed, 
Whether by men ’t is counted good, or whether bad ; 
In either case we mortals, we are doomed to bear. 
Already lifted oft the Offerer the axe 

In consecration o’er the bowed neck of the beast, 
And could not consummate the act; for enemies 
Approaching, or Gods intervening, hindered him. 


CHORUS. 


What shall happen, imagin’st thou not. 
Queen, go forwards 

With courage ! 

Blessing and evil come 

Unexpected to men: 

Though announced, yet we do not believe. 
Burned not Ilion, saw we not also 

Death in the face, shamefullest death ? 
And are we not here, 


168 


FAUST. 


With thee companioned, joyously serving, 
Seeing the dazzling sun in the heavens, 
And the fairest of earth, too, — 

Kindest one, thee, — we, the happy ? 


HELENA. 


Let come, what may! Whate’er awaits me, it beseems 
That I without delay go up in the Royal House, 
Which, long my need and yearning, forfeited almost, 
Once more hath risen on my sight, I know not how. 
My feet no longer bear me with such fearlessness 

Up the high steps, which as a child I sprang across. 


CHORUS. 
Cast ye, O sisters! ye 
Sorrowful captives, 
All your trouble far from ye! 
Your mistress’s joy partake, 
Helena’s joy partake, 
Who the paternal hearth 
Delightedly now is approaching, 
Truly with late-returning 
But with firmer and surer feet! 


Praise ye the sacredest, 

Still re-establishing 

And home-bringing Immortals! 
How the delivered one 

Soars as on lifted wings 

Over asperities, while in vain 
The prisoned one, yearningly, 
Over the fortress-parapet 
Pineth with outspread arms! 


But a God took hold of her, 
The Expatriate, 





ACT 111. 169 


And from Ilion’s ruins 
Hither hath borne her again, 
To the ancient, the newly embellished 
Paternal house, 
From unspeakable 
- Raptures and torments, 
Early youthful days, 
Now refreshed, to remember. 


PANTHALIS (as LEADER OF THE CHORUS). 


Forsake ye now the joy-encompassed path of Song, 
And towards the portal’s open valves your glances turn! 
What, Sisters, do I see? Returneth not the Queen 
With swift and agitated step again to us ? 

What is it now, great Queen, what could encounter thee 
To move and shake thee so, within thy house’s halls, 
Instead of greeting? Thou canst not conceal the thing; 
For strong repulsion written on thy brow I see, 

And noble indignation, struggling with amaze. 


HELENA 
(who has left the wings of the portal open, excitedly). 


4 common fear beseemeth not the child of Zeus ; 

No lightly-passing hand of terror touches her ; 

But that fell Horror, which the womb of ancient Night 

With first of things delivered, rolled through many forms, 

Like glowing clouds that from the mountain’s fiery throat 

Whirl up expanding, even heroes’ breasts may shake. 

Thus terribly have here to-day the Stygian Gods 

Mine entrance in the house betokened, and I fain, 

Even as a guest dismissed, would take myself away 

From this oft-trodden threshold I so longed to tread. 

But, no! hither have I retreated to the light; 

Nor further shall ye force me, Powers, be who ye may ! 
VOL. II. 8 


170 FAUST. 


Some consecration will I muse: then, purified, 
The hearth-fire may the wife so welcome, as the lord. 


LEADER OF THE CHORUS. 


Discover, noble Dame, unto thy servants here, 
Who reverently assist thee, what hath come to pass. | 


HELENA. 


What I beheld, shall ye with your own eyes behold, 

If now that shape the ancient Night hath not at once 

Re-swallowed to the wonders of her deepest breast. 

But I with words will yet declare it, that ye know. 

When solemnly, my nearest duty borne in mind, 

The Royal House’s gloomy inner court | trod, 

Amazed I saw the silent, dreary corridors. 

No sound of diligent labor, going forwards, met 

The ear, no signs of prompt and busy haste the eye ; 

And not a maid appeared to me, no stewardess 

Such as is wont to greet the stranger, friendly-wise. 

But when towards the ample hearth-stone I advanced, 

I saw, beside the glimmering ashes that remained, 

A veiled and giant woman seated on the ground, 

Not like to one who sleeps, but one deep-sunk in thought, 

With words of stern command I summoned her to work, 

The stewardess surmising, who meanwhile, perchance, 

My spouse with forethought there had stationed when 
he left; 

But she, still crouched together, sat immovable. 

Stirred by my threats at last, she lifted the right arm 

As if from hearth and hall she beckoned me away. 

I turned indignantly from her, and swiftly sped 

Unto the steps whereon aloft the Thalamos 

Adorned is set, and near thereto the treasure-room : 

But suddenly from the floor the wondrous figure sprang, 

Barring my way imperiously, and showed herself 


ACT Il. 171 


In haggard height, with hollow, blood-discolored eyes, 
A shape so strange that eye and mind confounded are. 
But to the winds I speak: for all in vain doth Speech 
Fatigue itself, creatively to build up forms. 

There look, yourselves! She even ventures forth to light! 
Here are we masters, till the lord and king shall come. 
The horrid births of Night doth Phoebus, Beauty’s friend, 
Drive out of sight to caverns, or he binds them fast. 


(PHORKYAS appears on the threshold, between the door-posts.) 


CHORUS." 


Much my experience, although the tresses, 

Youthfully clustering, wave on my temples; 
Many the terrible things 1 have witnessed, 

Warriors lamenting, Ilion’s night, 

When it fell. 


Through the beclouded, dusty and maddened 
Throngs of the combatants, heard I the Gods then 
Terribly calling, heard I the iron 

Accents of Discord clang through the field, 
City-wards. 


Ah, yet stood they, Ilion’s 
Ramparts ; but ever the fiery glow 
Ran from neighbor to neighbor walls, 
Ever extending from here and there, 
With the roar of its own storm, 

Over the darkening city. 


Flying saw I, through smoke and flame, 
And the tongues of the blinding fire, 
Fearful angering presence of Gods, 
Stalking marvellous figures, 
Giant-great, through the gloomy 
Fire-illuminate vapors. 


17? 


FAUST. 


Saw I, or was it but 

Dread of the mind, that fashioned 
Forms so affrighting? Never can 
Justly I say it? Yet that I Her, 
Horrible, here with eyes behold, 
Is to me known and certain: 
Even to my hand were palpable, 
Did not the terror restrain me, 
Holding me back from the danger. 


Which one of Phorkys’ 
Daughters then art thou? 

Since 1 compare thee 

Unto that family. 

Art thou, perchance, of the Graiz, 
One of the dreaded gray-born, 
One eye and tooth only 

Owning alternately ? 


Darest thou, Monster, 

Here beside Beauty, 

Unto high Phaebus’ 

Vision display thee? 

Step thou forth, notwithstanding ! 
For the Ugly beholds he not, 
Even as his hallowed glances 
Never beheld the shadow. 


Yet a sorrowful adverse fate, 

Us mortals compelleth, alas! 

To endure the unspeakable eye-pain 
Which She, the accurst, reprehensible, 
Provokes in the lovers of Beauty. 


Yes, then hearken, if thou brazenly 
Us shalt encounter, hear the curse, — 


ACT II. 173 


Hear the threat of every abuse 
From the denouncing mouths of the Fortunate, 
Whom the Gods themselves have fashioned ! 


PHORKYAS."°S 


Old is the saw, and yet its sense is high and true, 
That Shame and Beauty ne’er together, hand in hand, 
Pursued their way across the green domains of Earth. 
Deep-rooted dwells in both such force of ancient hate, 
That wheresoever on their way one haps to meet 

The other, each upon her rival turns her back: 

Then forth again vehemently they hasten on, 

Shame deep depressed, but Beauty insolent and bold, 
Till her at last the hollow night of Orcus takes, 

If Age hath not beforehand fully tamed her pride. 

So now I find ye, shameless ones, come from abroad 
With arrogance o’erflowing, as a file of cranes 

That with their hoarse, far-sounding clangor high in air, 
A cloudy line, slow-moving, send their creaking tones 
Below, the lone, belated wanderer to allure 

That he look up; but, notwithstanding, go their way, 
And he goes his: and likewise will it be, with us. 
Who, then, are you, that round the Royal Palace high 
Like Menads wild, or like Bacchantes, dare to rave ? 
Who, then, are you, that you the House’s stewardess 
Assail and howl at, as the breed of dogs the moon? 
Think ye from me ’t is hidden, of what race ye are? 
Ye brood, in war begotten and in battle bred, 

Lustful of man, seducing no less than seduced, 
Emasculating soldiers’, burghers’ strength alike! 
Methinks, to see your crowd, a thick cicada-swarm 
Hath settled on us, covering the green-sown fields. 
Devourers ye of others’ toil! Ye snatch and taste, 
Destroying in its bud the land’s prosperity ! 

Wares are ye, plundered, bartered, and in market sold! 


(74 FAUST. 


HELENA. 


Who rates the servant-maids in presence of the Dame 
Audaciously invades the Mistress’ household-right : 
Her only it becometh to commend what is 
Praiseworthy, as to punish what is blamable. 

Content, moreover, am I with the service which 

They gave me, when the lofty strength of Ilion 
Beleaguered stood, and fell in ruin: none the less 
When we the sorrowful and devious hardships bore 

Of errant travel, where each thinks but of himself. 
Here, too, the like from this gay throng do I expect: 
Not what the slave is, asks the lord, but how he serves. 
Therefore be silent, cease to grin and jeer at them! 

If thou the Palace hitherto hast guarded well 

In place of Mistress, so much to thy credit stands ; 
But now that she herself hath come, shouldst thou retire 
Lest punishment, in place of pay deserved, befall ! 


PHORKYAS. 


To threaten the domestics is a right assured, 

Which she, the spouse august of the God-prospered 
king, 

By many years of wise discretion well hath earned. 

Since thou, now recognized, thine ancient station here 

Again assum’st, as Queen and Mistress of the House, 

Grasp thou the reins so long relaxed, be ruler now, 

Take in thy keep the treasure, and ourselves thereto! 

But first of all protect me, who the eldest am, 

From this pert throng, who with thee, Swan of Beauty. 
matched, 

Are only stumpy-winged and cackling, quacking geese. 


LEADER OF THE CHORUS. 
How ugly, near to Beauty, showeth Ugliness ! 


ACT II. 175 


PHORKYAS. 
How silly, near to understanding, want of sense ! 


(Henceforth the CHORETIDS answer in turn, stepping singly 
Sorth from the CHORUS.) 


CHORETID I.*% 
Of Father Erebus relate, relate of Mother Night ! 


PHORKYAS. 
Speak thou of Scylla, sister-children of one flesh ! 


CHORETID II. 
Good store of hideous monsters shows thy family tree! 


PHORKYAS. 
Go down to Orcus! There thy tribe and kindred seek! 


CHORETID III. 
Those who dwell there are all by far too young for thee. 


PHORKYAS. 
On old Tiresias try thy lascivious arts ! 


CHORETID Iv. 
Orion’s nurse was great-great-grandchild unto thee! 


PHORKYAS. 
rhee harpies, I suspect, did nurse and feed on filth. 


CHORETID V. 
Wherewith dost thou such choice emaciation feed ? 


PHORKYAS. 
Not with the blood, for which thou all too greedy art. 


176 FAUST. 


CHORETID VI. 
Thou, hungering for corpses, hideous corpse thyself ! 


PHORKYAS. 
- The teeth of vampires in thy shameless muzzle shine ! 


LEADER OF THE CHORUS. 
Thine shall I stop, when I declare thee who thou art. 


PHORKYAS. 
Then name thyself the first! The riddle thus is solved 


HELENA. 


Not angered, but in sorrow, do I intervene, 

Prohibiting the storm of this alternate strife ! 

For nothing more injurious meets the ruling lord 

Than quarrels of his faithful servants, underhand. 

The echo of his orders then returns no more 

Accordantly to him in swiftly finished acts, 

But, roaring wilfully, encompasses with storm 

Him, self-confused, and chiding to the empty air. 

Nor this alone: in most unmannered anger ye 

Have conjured hither pictures of the shapes of dread, 

‘Which so surround me, that to Orcus now I feel 

My being whirled, despite these well-known native fields. 

Can it be memory? Was it fancy, seizing me? 

Was all that, 1? and am J, now? and shall I hence 
forth be 

The dream and terror of those town-destroying ones ? 

I see the maidens shudder: but, the eldest, thou 


Composedly standest — speak a word of sense to me! 


PHORKYAS. 


Whoe’er the fortune manifold of years recalls, 
Sees as a dream at last the favor of the Gods. 





ACT 11. 177 


But thou, so highly dowered, so past all measure helped, 
Saw’st in the ranks of life but love-desirous men, 

To every boldest hazard kindled soon and spurred. 
Thee early Theseus snatched, excited by desire, 

Like Heraciés in strength, a splendid form of man 


HELENA. 


He bore me forth, a ten-year-old and slender roe, 
And shut me in Aphidnus’ tower, in Attica. 


PHORKYAS. 
But then, by Castor and by Pollux soon released, 
The choicest crowd of heroes, wooing, round thee 
pressed. 
HELENA. 


Yet most my secret favor, freely I confess, 
Patroclus won, the likeness of Pelides he. 


PHORKYAS. 


Wed by thy father’s will to Menelaus then, 
The bold sea-rover, the sustainer of his house. 


HELENA. 


My sire the daughter gave him, and the government: 
Then from our wedded nearness sprang Hermione. 


PHORKYAS. 


Yet when he boldly claimed the heritage of Crete, 
To thee, the lonely one, too fair a guest appeared. 


HELENA. 


Why wilt thou thus recall that semi-widowhood, 
And all the hideous ruin it entailed on me? 
ge 


178 FAUST, 


PHORKYAS. 


To me, a free-born Cretan, did that journey bring 
Imprisonment, as well, — protracted slavery. 


HELENA. 
At once he hither ordered thee as stewardess, 
Giving in charge the fortress and the treasure-stores. 


PHORKYAS. 


Which thou forsookest, wending to the towered town 
Of Ilion, and the unexhausted joys of love. 


HELENA. 
Name not those joys to me! for sorrow all too stern 
Unendingly was poured upon my breast and brain. 


PHORKYAS. 


Nathless, they say, dost thou appear in double form, 
Beheld in Ilion, —in Egypt, too, beheld. 


HELENA. 


Make wholly not confused my clouded, wandering sense! 
Even in this moment, who I am I cannot tell. 


PHORKYAS. 


And then, they say, from out the hollow Realm of Shades 
Achilles yet was joined in passion unto thee, 
Who earlier loved thee, ’gainst all ordinances of Fate ! 


HELENA. 
To him, the Vision, I, a Vision, wed myself : 7 
It was a dream, as even the words themselves declare. 
I vanish hence, and to myself a Vision grow. 
(Ske sinks into the arms of the SEMICHORUS.) 





ACT lll. 179 


CHORUS. 
Silence! silence ! 
False-seeing one, false-speaking one! 
Out of the hideous, single-toothed 
Mouth, what should be exhaled from 
Such abominable horror-throat ! 
For the Malevolent, seeming benevolent, — 
Wolf’s wrath under the sheep’s woolly fleece, — 
Fearfuller far is unto me than 
Throat of the three-headed dog. 
Anxiously listening stand we here. 
When? how? where shall break again forth 
Further malice 
From the deeply-ambushed monster ? 


Now, stead of friendly words and consoling, 
Lethe-bestowing, gratefully mild, 

Stirrest thou up from all the Past 

Evillest more than good things, 

And darkenest all at once 

Both the gleam of the Present 

And also the Future’s 

Sweetly glimmering dawn of hope ! 


Silence! silence! 

That the Queen’s high spirit, 
Nigh to forsake her now, 
Hold out, and upbear yet 
The Form of all forms 

Which the sun shone on ever. 


(HELENA Aas recovered, and stands again in the centre.) 


PHORKYAS. 


Forth from transient vapors comes the lofty sun of this 
bright day, 





180 FAUST. 


That, obscured, could so delight us, but in splendor 
dazzles now. 

As the world to thee is lovely, thou art lovely unto us; 

Though as ugly they revile me, well 1 know the Beautiful. 


HELENA. 

Tottering step I from the Void that —dizzy, fainting, — 
round me clused ; 

And again would fain be resting, for so weary are my 
limbs. 

Yet to Queens beseemeth chiefly, as to all men it be- 
seems, 

Calm to be, and pluck up courage, whatsoe’er may 
menace then. 


PHORKYAS 


Standing now in all thy greatness, and in all thy beauty, 
here, 

Says thine eye that thou commandest: what command’st 
thou ? speak it out! 


HELENA. 


Be prepared, for much neglected in your quarrel, to atone! 
Haste, a sacrifice to furnish, as the king hath ordered me! 


PHORKYAS. 


All is ready in the palace — vessels, tripods, sharpened 
axe, 
For the sprinkling, fumigating : show to me the victim 
now! 
HELENA. 


This the king not indicated. 


PHORKYAS. 
Spake it not? O word of woe! 








ACT Wl. 181 


HELENA. 
What distress hath overcome thee ? 


PHORKYAS. 
Queen, the offering art thou ! * 
HELENA. 
I? 


PHORKYAS. 
And these. 


CHORUS. 
Ah, woe and sorrow! 


PHORKYAS. 
Thou shalt fall beneath the axe. 


HELENA. 
Fearful, yet foreboded! I, alas! 


PHORKYAS. 
There seemeth no escape. 


CHORUS. 
Ah! and what to us will happen ? 


PHORKYAS. 
She will die a noble death ; 
But upon the lofty beam, upholding rafter-frame and roof, 
As in birding-time the throstles, ye in turn shall strug- 
gling hang! 
(HELENA and the CHORUS stand amazed and alarmed, in 
striking, well-arranged groups.) 


PHORKYAS. 


Ye Phantoms ! — like to frozen images ye stand, 
In terror thus from Day to part, which is not yours. 


182 FAUST. 


Men, and the race of spectres like you, one and ail, 

Renounce not willingly the bright beams of the sun; 

But from the end may none implore or rescue them. 

All know it, yet ’t is pleasant unto very few. 

Enough! ye all are lost: now speedily to work ! 

(She claps her hands: thereupon appear in the doorway muf- 
fed dwarfish forms, which at once carry out with atacrity 
the commands expressed.) 

This way, ye gloomy, sphery-bodied monster throng! 

Roll hitherwards ! ye here may damage as ye will. 

The altar portable, the golden-horned, set up! 

The axe let shimmering lie across the silver rim! 

The urns of water fill! For soon, to wash away, 

Shall be the black blood’s horrible and smutching stains. 

Here spread the costly carpets out upon the dust, 

That so the offering may kneel in queenly wise, 

And folded then, although with severed head, at once 

With decent dignity be granted sepulture ! 


LEADER OF THE CHORUS. 


The Queen is standing, sunk in thought, beside us here, 
The maidens wither like the late-mown meadow grass ; 
Methinks that I, the eldest, in high duty bound, 

Should words exchange with thee, primeval eldest thou ! 
Thou art experienced, wise, and seemest well-disposed, 
Although this brainless throng assailed thee in mistake. 
Declare then, if thou knowest, possible escape ! 


PHORKYAS. 
’T is easy said. Upon the Queen it rests alone, 
To save herself, and ye appendages with her. 
But resolution, and the swiftest, needful is. 
CHORUS. 


Worthiest and most reverend of the Parcz, wisest sibyl 
thou, 


ACT I]. 183 


Hold the golden shears yet open, then declare us Day 
and Help! 

We already feel discomfort of the soaring, swinging, 
struggling ; 

And our limbs in dances first would rather move in joy- 
ous cadence, 

Resting afterwards on lovers’ breasts. 


HELENA. 
Let these be timid! Pain I feel, but terror none; 
Yet if thou know’st of rescue, grateful I accept ! 
Unto the wise, wide-seeing mind is verily shown 
The Impossible oft as possible. Then speak, and say! 


CHORUS. 
Speak and tell us, tell us quickly, how escape we now 
the fearful, 
Fatal nooses, that so menace, like the vilest form of 
necklace, 
Wound about our tender throats? Already, in antici: 
pation, 


We can feel the choking, smothering — if thou, Rhea, 
lofty Mother 
Of the Gods, to mercy be not moved. 


PHORKYAS. 


Have you then patience, such long-winded course of 
speech 
To hear in silence? Manifold the stories are. 


CHORUS. 
Patience enough! Meanwhile, in hearing, still we live. 


PHORKYAS. 


Whoso, to guard his noble wealth, abides at home, 
And in his lofty dwelling well cements the chinks 


184 FAUST. 


And also from the pelting rain secures the roof, 

With him, the long days of his life, shall all be well: 
But whosoe’er his threshold’s holy square-hewn stone 
Lightly with flying foot and guilty oversteps, 

Finds, when he comes again, the ancient place, indeed, 
But all things altered, if not utterly o’erthrown. 


HELENA. 


Wherefore declaim such well-known sayings here, as 
these? 
Thou wouldst narrate: then stir not up annoying themes! 


PHORKYAS. 


It is historic truth, and nowise a reproach. 
Sea-plundering, Menelaus steered from bay to bay; 
He skirted as a foe the islands and the shores, 
Returning with the booty, which in yonder rusts. 
Then ten long years he passed in front of Ilion; 

But for the voyage home how many know I not. 
And now how is it, where we stand by Tyndarus’ 
Exalted House? How is it with the regions round ? 


HELENA. 


Has then Abuse become incarnated in thee, 
That canst not open once thy lips, except to blame ? 


PHORKYAS. 


So many years deserted stood the valley-hills 

That in the rear of Sparta northwards rise aloft, 
Behind Taygetus; whence, as yet a nimble brook, 
Eurotas downward rolls, and then, along our vale 

By reed-beds broadly flowing, nourishes your swans. 
Behind there in the mountain-dells a daring breed 
Have settled, pressing forth from the Cimmerian Night, 








ACT Il. 185 


And there have built a fortress inaccessible, 
Whence land and people now they harry, as they please. 


HELENA. 
Have they accomplished that? Impossible it seems. 


PHORKYAS. 
They had the time: it may be twenty years, in all. 


HELENA. 
Is one a Chicf? and are they robbers many — leagued? 


PHORKYAS. 


Not robbers are they; yet of many one is Chief : ™ 

I blame him not, although on me he also fell. 

He might, indeed, have taken all; yet was content 
With some /vee-gifts, he said: tribute he called it not. 


HELENA. 
How looked the man? 


PHORKYAS. 


By no means ill: he pleased me well. 
Cheerful and brave and bold, and nobly-formed is he, 
A prudent man and wise, as few among the Greeks. 
They call the race Barbarians ; yet I question much 
If one so cruel be, as there by Ilion 
In man-devouring rage so many heroes were ; 
His greatness | respected, did confide in him. 
And then, his fortress! That should ye yourselves 

behold! 

*T is something other than unwieldy masonry, 


The which your fathers, helter-skelter tumbling, piled, — _ 


Cyclopean like the Cyclops, stones undressed at once 
Or stones undressed upheaving : there, however, there 


186 FAUST. 


All plumb and balanced is, conformed to square and rule. 
Behold it from without! It rises heavenward up 
So hard, so tight of joint, and mirror-smooth as steel. 
To climb up there — nay, even your Thought itself slides 

off ! 
And mighty courts of ample space within, enclosed 
Around with structures of all character and use. 
There you see pillars, pillarets, arches great and small, 
Balconies, galleries for looking out and in, 
And coats of arms. 

CHORUS. 


What are they? 


PHORKYAS. 

Ajax surely bore 
A twisted serpent on his shield, as ye have seen. 
The Seven also before Thebes had images, 
Each one upon his shield, with many meanings rich. 
One saw there moon and star on the nocturnal sky, 
And goddesses, and heroes, ladders, torches, swords, - 
And whatsoe’er afflicting threateneth good towns. 
Such symbols also bore our own heroic band, 
In shining tints, bequeathed from eldest ancestry. 
You see there lions, eagles, likewise claws and beaks, 
Then buffalo-horns, with wings and roses, peacock’s-tails, 
And also bars — gold, black and silver, blue and red. 
The like of these in halls are hanging, row on row, — 
In halls unlimited and spacious as the world: 
There might ye dance! 

CHORUS. 


But tell us, are there dancers there? 


PHORKYAS. 


Ay, and the best! —a blooming, gold-haired throng of 
boys, 





ACT III. 187 


Breathing ambrosial youth! So only Paris breathed, 
When he approached too nearly to the Queen. 


HELENA. 
Thou fall’st 


Entirely from thy part: speak now the final word! 


PHORKYAS. 
’Tis thou shalt speak it: say with grave distinctness, Yes! 
Then straight will I surround thee with that fortress. 


CHORUS. 
Speak, 
O speak the one brief word, and save thyself and us! 


HELENA. 


What! Shan I fear King Menelaus may transgress 
So most inhumanly, as thus to smite myself ? 


PHORKYAS. 


Hast thou forgotten how he thy Deiphobus, 

Brother of fallen Paris, who with stubborn claim 
Took thee, the widow, as his fere, did visit with 
Unheard-of mutilation? Nose and ears he cropped, 
And otherwise disfigured: ’t was a dread to see. 


HELENA. 
That did he unto him: he did it for my sake. 


PHORKYAS. 
Because of him he now will do the like to thee. 
Beauty is indivisible :"° who once possessed 
Her wholly, rather slays than only share in part. 
( Trumpets in the distance: the CHORUS starts in terror.) 
Even as the trumpet’s piercing clangor gripes and tears 
The ear and entrail-nerves, thus Jealousy her claws 





188 FAUST. 


Drives in the bosom of the man, who ne’er forgets 
What once was his, but now is lost, possessed no more. 


CHORUS. 


Hear’st thou not the trumpets pealing? see’st thou not 
the shine of swords? 


PHORKYAS. 
King and Lord, be welcome hither! willing reckoning 
will I give. 
CHORUS. 
What of us? 
PHORKYAS. 


You know it clearly, see her death before your eyes ; 
There, within, your own shall follow: nay, there is no 
help for you! 


Pause. 


HELENA. 


What I may venture first to do, have I devised. 

A hostile Demon art thou, that I feel full well, 

And much I fear thou wilt convert the Good to Bad. 

But first to yonder fortress now I follow thee; 

What then shall come, I know: but what the Queen 
thereby 

As mystery in her deepest bosom may conceal, 

Remain unguessed by all! Now, Ancient, lead the way! 


CHORUS. 
O how gladly we go, 
Hastening thither! 
Chasing us, Death, 
And, rising before us, 
The towering castle’s 





ACT IU. 189 


Inaccessible ramparts. 

Guard us as well may they 

As Ilion’s citadel-fort, 

Which at last alone 

Fell, through contemptible wiles ! 

Mists arise and spread, obscuring the background, also the 

nearer portion of the scene, at pleasure.) 

How is it? how? 

Sisters, look around! 

Was it not cheerfullest day ? 

Banded vapors are hovering up 

Out of Eurotas’ holy stream; 

Vanished een now hath the lovely 

Reed-engarlanded shore from the sight, 

Likewise the free, gracefully-proud, 

Silently floating swans, 

Mated in joy of their swimming, 

See I, alas! no more. 


Still — but still 

Crying, I hear them, 

Hoarsely crying afar! 
opines death-presaging ! 

Ah, may to us the tones not also, 
Stead of deliverance promised, 
Ruin announce at the last! — 
Us, the swan-like and slender, 
Long white-throated, and She, 
Our fair swan-begotten. 

Woe to us, woe! 


All is covered and hid 

Round us with vapor and cloud: 
Each other behold we not! 
What happens? do we advance? 


190 FAUST. 


Hover we only with 

Skipping footstep along the ground? 

Seest thou naught? Soars not even, perchance, 
Hermes before us? Shines not the golden wand, 
Bidding, commanding us back again 

To the cheerless, gray-twilighted, 

Full of impalpable phantoms, 

Over-filled, eternally empty Hades ? 


Yes, at once the air is gloomy, sunless vanish now the 
vapors, 

Gray and darkly, brown as buildings. Walls present 
themselves before us, 

Blank against our clearer vision. Is’t a court? a moat, 
or pitfall ? 

Fear-inspiring, any way! and Sisters, ah, behold us 
prisoned, — 

Prisoned now, as ne’er before ! 


(Juner court-yard of a Castle, surrounded with rich, faw 
tastic buildings of the Middle Ages.) 


LEADER OF THE CHORUS. 


Precipitate and foolish, type of women ye! 
Dependent on the moment, sport of every breeze 
That blows mischance or luck! and neither ever ye 
Supported calmly. One is sure to contradict 

The others fiercely, and cross-wise the others her: 
Only in joy and pain ye howl and laugh alike. 

Be silent now, and hearken what the Mistress here, 
High-thoughted, may determine for herself and us ! 


HELENA. 
Where art thou, Pythoness? Whatever be thy name, 
Step forth from out these arches of the gloomy keep! 
if thou didst go, unto the wondrous hero-lord 


ACT 1L1. 101 


Me to announce, preparing thus reception fit, 
Then take my thanks, and lead me speedily to him ! 
| wish the wandering closed, I wish for rest alone. 


LEADER OF THE CHORUS. 


{n vain thou lookest, Queen, all ways around thee here3 
That fatai shape hath vanished hence, perhaps remained 
There in the mists, from out whose bosom hitherwards— 
[ know not how — we came, swiftly, without a step. 
Perhaps, indeed, she strays, lost in the labyrinth 

Of many castles wondrously combined in one, 

Seeking august and princely welcome from the lord. 
But see! up yonder moves in readiness a crowd : 

In galleries, at windows, through the portals, comes 

A multitude of servants, hastening here and there ; 
And this proclaims distinguished welcome to the guest. 


CHORUS. 


My heart is relieved! O, yonder behold 

How so orderly downward with lingering step 

The crowd of the youths in dignity comes, 

In regular march! Who hath given command 

That they marshal in ranks, and so promptly disposed, 
The youthfullest boys of the beautiful race ? 

What shall most I admire? Js ’t the delicate gait, 

Or the curls of the hair on the white of the brow, 

Or the twin-rounded cheeks, blushing red like the peach, 
And also, like them, with the silkiest down ? 

Fain therein would I bite, yet I fear me to try ; 

For, in similar case, was the mouth thereupor 

Filled — I shudder to tell it ! — with ashes. 


But they, the fairest, 
Hither they come: 
What do they bear ? 





192- FAUST. 


Steps to the throne 

Carpet and seat, 

Curtain and tent, 

Or similar gear ; 

Waving around, and 

Cloudy wreaths forming 

O’er the head of our Queen; 

For she already ascendeth, 
Invited, the sumptuous couch. 
Come forward, now, 

Step by step, 

Solemnly ranged ! 

Worthy, O, threefold worthy her, 
May such a reception be blessed ! 


(All that is described by the CHorRuS takes place by ~egrees 
After the boys and squires have descended in a long proces 
ston, FAUST appears above, at the head of the staircase, in 
Anightly Court costume of the Middle Ages. and then corres 
down slowly and with dignity.) 


LEADER OF THE CHORUS 
(observing him attentively). 


If now, indeed, the Gods to this man have not lent — 

As oft they do to men —a brave, transcendent form, 

A winning presence, stately dignity of mien, 

For temporary service, all be undertakes 

Will always bring him triumph, whether in fight with 
men, 

Or in the minor wars with fairest ladies waged. 

Him, verily, to hosts of others I prefer, 

Whon, highly-famed withal, I have myself beheld. 

With slow and solemn step, by reverence restrained, 

I see the Prince approach: turn thou thy head, @ 
Queen ! 








ACT U1. 193 


FAUST 

(approaching: a man in felters at his side). 
Instead of solemn greeting, as beseems, 
Or reverential welcome, bring I thee, 
Fast-bound in welded fetters, here, the knave 
Whose duty slighted cheated me of mine.'” 
Kneel down, thou Culprit, that this lofty Dame 
May hear the prompt confession of thy guilt! 
This, Sovereign Mistress, is the man select 
For piercing vision, on the turret high 
Stationed to look around, the space of heaven 
And breadth of earth to read with sharpest glance, 
If here or there perchance come aught to view, — 
Between the stronghold and the circling hills 
If aught may move, whether the billowy herds 
Or waves of arméd men: those we protect, 
Encounter these. To-day — what negligence ! 
Thou comest, he proclaims it not: we fail 
In honorable reception, most deserved, 
Of such high guest. Now forfeited hath he 
His guilty life, and should have shed the blood 
Of death deserved; but only thou shalt mete 
Pardon or punishment, at thy good will. 


HELENA. 
So high the power, which thou hast granted me, 
As Mistress and as Judge, although it were 
(I may conjecture) meant but as a test, — 
Yet now I use the Judge’s bounden right 
To give the Accused a hearing: speak then, thou1 


LYNCEUS, THE WARDER OF THE TOWER. 
Let me kneel, and let me view her, 


Let me live, or let me die! 
VOL. II. 9 M 


194 


FA OST. 


For enslaved, devoted to her, 
This God-granted Dame, am I. 


‘Watching for the Morn’s advancing 
Where her pathways eastward run, 
All at once, a sight entrancing, 

In the South arose the sun."3 


There to look, the Wonder drew me: 
Not the glens, the summits cold, 


Space of sky or landscape gloomy, — 
Only Her did I behold. 


Beam of sight to me was given, 
Like the lynx on highest tree ; 

But in vain I ’ve urged and striven, 
*T was a dream that fettered me. 


Could I know, or how be aided? 
Think of tower or bolted gate? 
Vapors rose and vapors faded, 
And the Goddess came in state! 


Eye and heart did I surrender 

To the softly-shining spell : 
Blinding all with Beauty’s splendor, 
She hath blinded me, as well. 


I forgot the warder’s duty 

And the trumpet’s herald-call : 
Threaten to destroy me! Beauty 
Bindeth anger, frees her thrall. 


H,SLENA. 


The Evil which I bro ght, I dare no more 
Chastise. Ah, woe to ne! What fate severe 





ACT Ll. 195 


Pursues me, everywhere the breasts of men 

So to infatuate, that nor them, nor aught 
Besides of worth, they spare? Now plundering, 
Seducing, fighting, hurried to and fro, 

Heroes and Demigods, Gods, Demons even, 
Hither and thither led me, sore-perplexed. 

Sole, I the world bewildered, doubly more; 

Now threefold, fourfold, woe on woe I bring. 
Remove this guiltless man, let him go free! 

The God-deluded merits no disgrace. 


FAUST. 


Amazed, O Queen, do I behold alike 

The unerring archer and the stricken prey. 

I see the bow, wherefrom the arrow sped 

That wounded him. Arrows on arrows fly, 

And strike me. I suspect the feathered hum 

' Of bolts cross-fired through all the courts and towers. 
What am I now? At once rebellious thou 
Makest my faithfullest, and insecure 

My walls. Thence do | fear that even my hosts 
Obey the conquering and unconquered Dame. 
What else remains, but that I give to thee . 
Myself, and all I vainly fancied mine? 

Let me, before thy feet, in fealty true, 

Thee now acknowledge, Lady, whose approach 
Won thee at once possession and the throne ! 


LYNCEUS 
(with a chest, and men who follow, bearing others). 
Thou seest me, Queen, returned and free! 
The wealthy begs a glance from thee : 


Thee he beheld, and feeleth, since, 
As beggar poor, yet rich as prince. 


196 


FAUST, 


What was I erst? What now am I? 
What shall I will ? — what do, or try? 
What boots the eyesight’s sharpest ray? 
Back from thy throne it bounds away. 


Forth from the East we hither pressed,™ 
And all was over with the West: 

So long and broad the people massed, 
The foremost knew not of the last. 


The foremost fell, the second stood; 

The third one’s lance was prompt and good; 
Each one a hundred’s strength supplied : 
Unnoted, thousands fell and died. 


We onward pressed, in stormy chase; 
The lords were we from place to place ; 
And where, to-day, / ruled as chief, 
The morrow brought another thief. 


We viewed the ground, but viewed in haste: 
The fairest woman one embraced, 
One took the oxen from the stall; 
The horses followed, one and all. 


But my delight was to espy 

What rarest was, to mind and eye ; 
And all that others might amass 
To me was so much withered grass. 


I hunted on the treasure-trail 
Where’er sharp sight could me avail: 
In every pocket did I see, 

And every chest was glass-to me. 








ACT III. 197 


And heaps of gold I came to own, 
With many a splendid jewel-stone: 
The emeralds only worthy seem 
Greenly upon thy breast to gleam. 


*Twixt lip and ear let swaying sleep 

The pearly egg of Ocean’s deep ; 

Such place the rubies dare not seek, 
They ’re blanched beside the rosy cheek. 


And thus, the treasure’s offering 

I here before thy presence bring: 
Laid at thy feet, be now revealed 
The spoils of many a bloody field! 


Though I have brought of chests a store, 
Yet iron caskets have I more. 

Let me attend thee, do thy will, 

And I thy treasure-vaults will fill. 


For scarcely didst thou mount the throne, 
Than bowed to own and bent to own 

Thy Beauty’s sway, that very hour, 
Wisdom, and Wealth, and sovereign Power. 


All such I held secure, as mine; 

Now freed therefrom, behold it thine! 
I deemed its worth and value plain; 
Now see I, it was null and vain. 


What I possessed from me doth pass, 
Dispersed like mown and withered grass. 
One bright and beauteous glance afford, 
And all its worth is straight restored ! 


198 FAUST. 


FAUST. 


Remove with speed the burden boldly won, 

Not blamed, indeed, but neither with reward. 
All is her own already, which the keep 

Within it holds ; and special offer thus 

Is useless. Go, and pile up wealth on wealth 
In order fit! Present the show august 

Of splendors yet unseen! The vaulted halls 
Make shine like clearest heaven! Let Paradise 
From lifeless pomp of life created be! 
Hastening, before her footsteps be unrolled 
The flower-embroidered carpets! Let her tread 
Fall on the softest footing, and her glance, 
Gods only bear undazed, on proudest pomp! 


LYNCEUS. 


What the lord commands is slight ; 
For the servants, labor light: 

Over wealth and blood and breath 
This proud Beauty governeth. 

Lo! thy warrior-throngs are tame ; 
All the swords are blunt and lame; 
Near the bright form we behold 
Even the sun is pale and cold; 
Near the riches of her face 

All things empty, shorn of grace. 


HELENA (fo Faust). 


Fain to discourse with thee, I bid thee come 
Up hither to my side! The empty place 
Invites its lord, and thus secures me mine. 


FAUST. 


First, kneeling, let the dedication be 
Accepted, lofty Lady! Let me kiss 


ACT I. 199 


The gracious hand that lifts me to thy side. 
Confirm me as co-regent of thy realm, 

Whose borders are unknown, and win for thee 
Guard, slave and worshipper, and all in one! 


HELENA. 
I hear and witness marvels manifold ; 
Amazement takes me, much would I inquire. 
Yet now instruct me wherefore spake the man 
With strangely-sounding speech, friendly and strange: 
Each sound appeared as yielding to the next," 
And, when a word gave pleasure to the ear, 
Another came, caressing then the first. 


FAUST. 


If thee our people’s mode of speech delight, 
O thou shalt be enraptured with our song, 
Which wholly satisfies both ear and mind! 
But it were best we exercise it now: 
Alternate speech entices, calls it forth. 


HELENA. 
Canst thou to me that lovely speech impart? 


FAUST. 


"T is easy: it must issue from the heart; 
And if the breast with yearning overflow, 
One looks around, and asks — 


HELENA. 
Who shares the glow. 


FAUST. 


Nor Past nor Future shades an hour like this ; 
But wholly in the Present — 





FAUST. 


200 
HELENA. 
Is our bliss. 

FAUST. 
Gain, pledge, and fortune in the Present stand: 
What confirmation does it ask? 

HELENA. 

My hand. 
CHORUS. 


Who would take it amiss, that our Princess 
Granteth now to the Castle’s lord 
Friendliest demonstration ? 

For, indeed, collectively are we 

Captives, as ofttimes already, 

Since the infamous downfall 

Of Ilion, and the perilous, 

Labyrinthine, sorrowful voyage. 


Women, to the love of men accustomed, 
Dainty choosers are they not, 

But proficients skilful ; 

And unto golden-haired shepherds, 
Perchance black, bristly Fauns, too, 
Even as comes opportunity, 

Unto the limbs in their vigor 

Fully award they an equal right. 


Near, and nearer already sit 

They, to each other drawn, 
Shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee; 
Hand in hand, they bend and sway 
Dver the throne’s 

Softly-pillowed, luxurious pomp. 








ACT Wi. 20% 


Majesty here not withholds its 
Secretest raptures, 

Wiblfully, boldly revealed 

Thus to the eyes of the people. 


HELENA. 


I feel so far away, and yet so near; 
And am so fain to say: “Here am 1! here.” 


FAUST. 


I scarcely breathe ; I tremble; speech is dead: 
It is a dream, and day and place have fled. 


HELENA. 


I seem as life were done, and yet so new, 
Blent thus with thee, — to thee, the Unknown, true! 


FAUST. 


To probe this rarest fate be not impelled ! 
Being is duty, though a moment held. 


PHORKYAS (violently entering). 


Spell in lovers’ primers sweetly ! 

Probe and dally, cosset featly, 

Test your wanton sport completely ! 

But there is not time, nor place. 

Feel ye not the gloomy presage ? 

Hear ye not the trumpet’s message r 

For the ruin comes apace. 

Menelaus with his legions 

Storms across the hither regions ; 

Call to battle all your race! 

By the victors execrated, 

Like Deiphobus mutilated, 

Thou shalt pay for woman’s grace: 
Q* 


202 FAUST. 


First shall dangle every light one, 
At the altar, then, the Bright One 
Find the keen axe in its place! 


FAUST. 


Disturbance rash! repulsively she presses in ; 

Not even in danger meet is senseless violence. 

Ill message makes the fairest herald ugly seem ; 

Thou, Ugliest, delightest but in evil news. 

Yet this time shalt thou not succeed ; with empty breath 
Stir, shatter thou the air! There is no danger here, 
And unto us were danger but an idle threat. 


(Signals, explosions from the towers," trumpets and cornets, 
martial music. A powerful armed force marches past.) 
No! hero-bands, none ever braver, 
At once shalt thou assembled see : 
He, sole, deserves the ladies’ favor, 
Whose arm defends them gallantly. 


(70 the leaders of the troops, who detach themselves from the 
columns, and come forwards.) 
With rage restrained, in silence banded, 
And certain of the victory-feast, 
Ye, Northern blossoms, half expanded, 
Ye, flowery fervors of the East ! 


The light upon their armor breaking, 
They plundered realm on realm, at will: 
They come, and lo! the earth is quaking ; 
They march away, it thunders still! 


In Pylos we forsook the waters ; 

The ancient Nestor is no more, 

And soon our lawless army scatters 
The troops of kings on Grecian shore. 





ACT Il. 203 


Back from these walls, no more delaying, 
Drive Menelaus to the sea! 

There let him wander, robbing, slaying, 
As was his wish and destiny. 


I hail you Dukes, as forth ye sally 
Beneath the rule of Sparta’s Queen ! 
Now lay before her mount and valley, 
And you shall share the kingdom green! 


Thine, German, be the hand that forges 
Defence for Corinth and her bays : 
Achaia, with its hundred gorges, 

I give thee, Goth, to hold and raise. 


Towards Elis, Franks, direct your motion ; 
Messene be the Saxon’s state : 

The Norman claim and sweep the ocean, 
And Argolis again make great! 


Then each shall dwell in homes well-dowered, 
And only outer foemen meet; 

Yet still by Sparta over-towered, 

The Queen’s ancestral, ancient seat. 


Each one shall she behold, abiding 
In lands that lack no liberal right ; 
And at her feet ye ll seek, confiding, 
Your confirmation, law and light ! 

[Faust descends from the throne: the Princes form a cirest 
around him, in order to receive special commands and tin- 
structions.) 

CHORUS. 
Who for himself the Fairest desires, 
First. of all things, let him 








204 FAUST. 


Bravely and wisely a weapon acquire ! 
Flattering, indeed, he may conquer 
What on earth is the highest; 

But he quietly may not possess. 

Wily sneaks entice her away, 
Robbers boldly abduct her from him: 
This to hinder be he prepared! 


Therefore now our Prince I praise, 
Holding him higher than others, 

Since he wisdom and strength combines, 
So that the strong men obedient stand, 
Waiting his every beckon. 

They his orders faithfully heed, 

Each for the profiting of himself 

As for the Ruler’s rewarding thanks, 
And for the highest renown of both. 


For who shall tear her away 

Now, from the mighty possessor ? 

His is she, and to him be she granted, 

Doubly granved by us, whom he, 

Even as her, within by sure walls hath surrounded, 
And without by a powerful host. 


FAUST. 
The gifts they ’ve won by our concession, — 
In fee to each a wealthy land, — 


Are grand and fair: grant them possession ! 
We in the midst will take our stand. 


And they in rivalry protect thee, 

Half-Island, girdled by the sea 

With whispering waves, — whose soft hill-chains connect 
thee 

With the last branch of Europe’s mountain-tree ! 











ACT J11. 205 


This land, before all lands in splendor,*"” 
On every race shall bliss confer, — 
Which to my queen in glad surrender 
Yiclds, as it first looked up to her, 


When, ’mid Eurotas’ whispering rushes 
She burst from Leda’s purple shell, 

So blinding in her beauty’s flushes, 
That mother, brothers, felt the spell ! 


This Jond, which seeks thy sole direction, 
Its brightest bloom hath now unfurled : 
Prefer thy fatherland’s affection 

To what is wholly thine, the world ! 


And though upon its ridgy backs of mountains 
The Sun’s cold arrow smites each cloven head, 
Yet, where the rock is greened by falling fountains, 
The wild-goat nibbles and is lightly fed. 


The springs leap forth, the streams united follow ; 
Green are the gorges, slopes, and meads below: 
On hundred hillsides, cleft with many a hollow, 
Thou seest the woolly herds like scattered snow. 


Divided, cautious, graze with measured paces 
The cattle onward to the dizzy edge, 

Yet for them all are furnished sheltered places, 
Whcre countless caverns arch the rocky ledge. 


Pan guards them there, and nymphs of life are dwelling 
In bushy clefts, that moist and freshest be; 

And yearningly to higher regions swelling, 

The branches crowd aloft of tree on tree. 


206 FAUST. 


Primeval woods! the strong oak there is regnant, 
And bough crooks out from bough in stubborn state ; 
The maple mild, with sweetest juices pregnant, 
Shoots cleanly up, and dallies with its weight. 


And motherly, in that still realm of shadows, 

The warm milk flows, for child’s and lambkin’s lips: 
At hand is fruit, the food of fertile meadows, 

And from the hollow trunk the honey drips. 


Here comfort is in birth transmitted ; 
To cheek and lip here joy is sent: 
Each is immortal in his station fitted, 
And all are healthy and content. 


And thus the child in that bright season gaineth 
The father-strength, as in a dream : 

We wonder; yet the question still remaineth, 

If they are men, when Gods they seem. 


So was Apollo shepherd-like in feature, 

That other shepherds were as fair and fleet; 
For where in such clear orbit moveth Nature, 
All worlds in inter-action meet.'® 


( Zaking his seat beside her.) 


Thus hath success my fate and thine attended ; 
Herceforth behind us let the Past be furled ! 
O, feel thyself from highest God descended ! 
For thou belongest to the primal world. 


Thy life shall circumscribe no fortress frowning! 
Still, in eternal youth, stands as it stood, 

For us, our stay with every rapture crowning, 
Arcadia in Sparta’s neighborhood. 





ACT M11. 207 


To tread this happy soil at last incited, 
Thy flight was towards a joyous destiny ! 
Now let our throne become a bower unblighted, 
Our bliss become Arcadian and free ! 
| The scene of action is completely transformed. Against a range 
of rocky caverns close bowers are constructed. A shadowy 
grove extends to the foot of the rocks which rise on all sides. 
Faust and HELENA are not seen: the CHORUS lies scattered 
about, sleeping.] 
PHORKYAS. 
How long these maidens have been sleeping, know I not: 
If they allowed themselves to dream what now mine eyes 
So clearly saw, is equally unknown to me. 
Therefore, I wake them. They, the Young, shall be 
amazed, — 
Ye also, Bearded Ones, who sit below and wait,» — 
Solution of these marvels finally to see. 
Awake! arise! and shake from off your locks the dew, 
The slumber from your eyes! Listen, and cease to blink! 


CHORUS. 

Speak and tell us, quickly tell us, all the wonders that 
have happened ! 

We shall hear with greater pleasure, if belief we cannot 
give it, 

For both eye and mind are weary, to behold these rocks 
alone. 

PHORKYAS. 

Children, you have hardly rubbed your eyes, and are you 
weary now ? 

Hear me, then! Within these caverns, in the grottos 
and the arbors, 

Screen and shelter have been lent, as unto twain idyllic 
lovers, 

To our Lord and to our Lady. 


208 FAUST. 


CHORUS. 
How? within there? 


PHORKYAS. 
Separated 
From the world, me only did they summon to their quiet 
service. 
Honored thus, I stood beside them, but, as fit in one so 
trusted, 
Looked around at something other, turning here and there 
at random, — 
Seeking roots, and bark, and mosses, being skilled in 
healing simples, — 
And the twain were left alone. 
CHORUS. 
Speakest thou as if within were spaces roomy as the 


world is: 
Wood and meadow, lakes and rivers, — what a fable 
dost thou spin! 


PHORKYAS. 


Certainly, ye Inexperienced! Those are unexplored 
recesses : 

Hall on hall, and court on court succeeding, musingly I 
tracked. 

All at once a laughter echoes through the spaces of the 
caverns ; 

As I look, a Boy is leaping from the mother’s lap to 
father’s, 

From the father to the mother: the caressing and the 
dandling, 

Teasing pranks of silly fondness, cry of sport and shout 
of rapture, 

They, alternate, deafen me. 








ACT IIT 209 


He, a Genius naked, wingless, like a Faun without the 
beasthood, 
Leaps upon the solid pavement; yet the pavement now 
reacting, 
Sends him flying high in air, and at the second bound 
or third, he 
Seems to graze the vaulted roof. 
Cries, disquieted, the mother: “ Leap repeatedly, at 
“pleasure, 
But beware of flying! for prohibited is flight to thee.” 
And thus warns the faithful father: “ Dwells in earth 
the force elastic 
Which thee upwards thus impelleth ; touch but with thy 
toe the surface, 
Like the son of Earth, Antzus, straightway art thou 
strong again.” 
So he springs upon the rocky masses, from a dizzy 
cornice 
To another, and around, as springs a ball when sharply 
struck. 
Yet, a-sudden, in a crevice of the hollow gulf he ’s van- 
ished, 
And it seemeth we have lost him! Mother mourns, and 
father comforts, 
Shoulder-shrugging, anxiously I stand. But now, again, 
what vision ! 
Are there treasures yonder hidden? Garments striped 
with broidered blossoms 
Hath he werthily assumed. 
Tassels from his shoulders swaying, fillets flutter round 
his bosom, 
In his hand the golden lyre, completely like a little 
Phebus, 
Cheerily to the brink he steps, the jutting edge: we 
stand astounded, 


210 FAUST. 


And the parents in their rapture clasp each other to the 
heart. 

What around his head is shining? What it is, were 
hard to warrant, 

Whether golden gauds, or flame of all-subduing strength 
of soul. 

So he moves with stately gesture, even as boy himself 
proclaiming 

Future Master of all Beauty, all the melodies eternal 

Throbbing in his flesh and blood; and you shall thus, 
delighted, hear him, — 

Thus shall you behold him, with a wonder never felt 
before ! 

CHORUS. 


Call’st thou a marvel this, 
Creta’s begotten ? 
Poetic-didactical word 

Hast thou listened to never? 
Never yet hearkened Ionia’s 
Never received also Hellas’ 
Godlike, heroical treasure 

Of ancient, primitive legends ? 


All that ever happens 

Now in the Present 

Mocks like a mournful echo 

The grander days of the Fathers. 
Not comparable is thy story 
Unto that loveliest falsehood, 
Than Truth more credible, 

Sung of the Son of Maia! 


This strong and delicate, yet 
Scarcely delivered suckling, 
Swathe yc in purest downy bands, 








ACT If. aIt 


Bind ye in precious diapered stuffs, 
As is the gossiping nurse’s 
Unreasonable notion! 

Strongly and daintily draws, no less, 
Now the rogue the flexible, 

Firm yet elastic body 

Cunningly out, and leaveth the close, 
Purple, impeding shell 

Quietly there in its place, 

Like the completed butterfly, 

Which from the chilly chrysalid 
Nimbly, pinion-unfolding, slips, 

Boldly and wilfully fluttering through 
Sunshine-pervaded ether. 

So he, too, the sprightliest : 

That unto thieves and jugglers — 

All the seekers of profit, as well, — 

He the favorable Demon was, 

Did he speedily manifest 

By the skilfullest artifice. 

Straight from the Ruler of Ocean stole 
He the trident, — from Arés himself 
Slyly the sword from the scabbard ; 
Arrows and bow from Phebus, and then 
‘Yongs that Hephestos was using. 
Even from Zeus, the Father, bolts had he 
Filched, had the fire not scared him. 
Eros, also, he overcame 

In leg-tripping wrestling match ; 

Then from Cypris, as she caressed him, 
Plundered the zone from her bosom. 

LAve exquisite, purely melodious music of stringed tnst7isients 
resounds from the cavern. All become attentive, ana soot 
abpear to be deeply moved. From this point to the paust 
designated, there is a full musical accompaniment.) 


212 FAUST. 


PHORKYAS. 
Hark! the music, pure and golden 3 
Free from fables be at last! 


All your Gods, the medley olden, 
Let depart! their day is past. 


You no more are comprehended ; 
We require a higher part: 

By the heart must be expended 
What shall work upon the heart. 


(Ske retires towards the rocks.) 


CHORUS. 


If the flattering music presses, 
Fearful Being, to thine ears, 

We, restored to health, confess us 
Softened to the joy of tears. 


Let the sun be missed from heaven, 
When the soul is bright with morn! 
What the world has never given 
Now within our hearts is born. 


(HELENA. Faust. EUPHORION st the costume already dc 
scribed.) 


EUPHORION.!3! 


Hear ye songs of childish pleasure, 
Ye are moved to playful glee ; 
Seeing me thus dance in measure, 
Leap your hearts parentally. 


HELENA. 
Love, in human wise to bless us, 
In a noble Pair must be; 
But divinely to possess us, 
It must form a precious Three. 








ACT III. 213 


FAUST. 


All we seek has therefore found us ; 
I am thine and thou art mine! 

So we stand as Love hath bound us: 
Other fortune we resign. 


CHORUS. 


Many years shall they, delighted, 
Gather from the shining boy 
Double bliss for hearts united : 
In their union what a joy! 


EUPHORION. 


Let me be skipping, 

Let me be leaping! 

lv soar and circle, 
Through ether sweeping, 
Is now the passion 

That me hath won. 


FAUST. 
But gently! gently! 
Not rashly faring ; 
Lest plunge and ruin 
Repay thy daring, 
Perchance destroy thee, 
Our darling son ! 


EUPHORION. 


I will not longer 
Stagnate below here ! 
Let go my tresses, 

My hands let go, herc! 
Let go my garments ! 
They all are mine. 


at4 


FAOST. 


HELENA. 


O think! Bethink thee 
To whom thou belongest ! 
How it would grieve us, 
And how thou wrongest 
The fortune fairest, — 
Mine, His, and Thine! 


CHORUS. 


Soon shall, I fear me, 
The sweet bond untwine ! 


HELENA AND FAUST. 


Curb, thou Unfortunate ! 
For our desiring, 

Thine over-importunate 
Lofty aspiring ! 

Rurally quiet, 

Brighten the plain! 


EUPHORION. 


Since you will that I try it, 
My flight I restrain. 


(Winding in dance through the CHORUS, and arawing them 


with him.) 
Round them I hover free ; 
Gay is the race: 
Is this the melody ? 
Move I with grace? 


HELENA. 


Yes, that is featly done: 
Lead them through, every one, 
Mazes of art! 











ACT Ii. ag 


FAUST. 


Soon let it ended be! 
Sight of such jugglery 
Troubles my heart. 


CHORUS 
(with EUPHORION, dancing nimbly and singing, in interlink- 

ing ranks). 
When thou thine arms so fair 
Charmingly liftest, 
The curls of thy shining hair 
Shakest and shiftest ; 
When thou, with foot so light, 
Brushest the earth in flight, 
Hither and forth again 
Leading the linkéd chain, 
Then is thy goal in sight, 
Loveliest Boy ! 
All of our hearts in joy 
Round thee unite. 

Pause. 


EUPHORION. 


Not yet repose, 

Ye light-footed roes ! 
Now to new play 
Forth, and away ! 

I am the hunter, 
You are the game. 


CHORUS. 
Wouldst thou acquire us, 
Be not so fast ! 

We are desirous 


216 


FAUS7: 


Only, at last, 
Clasping thy beauty, 
Kisses to claim! 


EUPHORION. 


Through groves and through hedges! 
O’er cliffs and o’er ledges ! 

Lightly what fell to me, 

That I detest: 

What I compel to me 

Pleases me best. 


HELENA AND FAUST. 
How perverse, how wild he’s growing! 
Vain to hope for moderation ; 
Now it sounds like bugles blowing, 
Over vale and forest pealing : 
What disorder! What a bravl! 


CHORUS 
(entering singly, in haste). 
Forth from us with swiftness ran he! 
Spurning us with scornful feeling, 
Now he drags from out the many 
Here, the wildest one of all. 


EUPHORION (bearing a young MAIDEN). 


Here I drag the little racer, 

And by force will I embrace her ; 
For my bliss and for my zest 
Press the fair, resisting breast, 
Kiss the mouth, repellent still, — 
Manifest my strength and will. 


MAIDEN. 
Let me go! This frame infoldeth 








ACT Ill. 217 


Also courage, strength of soul: 
Strong as thine, our will upholdeth, 
When another would control. 

I am in a strait, thou deemest ? 

What a force thine arm would claim ! 
Hold me, Fool, and ere thou dreamest 
I will scorch thee, in my game. 


(She turns to flame and flashes up in the air.) 
To the airy spaces follow, . 


Follow me to caverns hollow, 
Snatch and hold thy vanished aim! 


EUPHORION 
(shaking off the last flames). 

Rocks all around me here, 
Over the forests hung! 
Why should they bound me here ? 
Still am I fresh and young. 
Tempests are waking now, 
Billows are breaking now: 
Both far away I hear; 
Fain would be near. 

(He leaps ever farther up the rocks.) 


HELENA, FAUST, AND CHORUS. 


Chamois-like, dost thou aspire ? 
Fearful of the fall are we. 


EUPHORION. 


I must clamber ever higher, 
Ever further must I see. 


Now, where I am, I spy! 
Midst of the Isle am I: 
VOL. IL 10 


218 


FAUST. 


Midst of Pelops’ land, 
Kindred in soul, I stand ! 





CHORUS. 


Bide thou by grove and hill, 
Peacefully, rather ! 

We from the vineyards will 
Grapes for thee gather, — 
Grapes from the ridges tanned, 
Figs, and the apple’s gold: 

Ah! yet the lovely land, 
Loving, behold ! 


EUPHORION. 


Dream ye the peaceful day ? 
Dream, then, who may! 
War ! is the countersign : 
Victory — word divine ! 


CHORUS. 


Who peace and unity 
Scorneth, for war’s array, 
With impunity 

Slays his hope of a better day. 


EUPHORION. 


They, who this land have led 
Through danger and dread, 
Free, boundlessly brave, 
Lavish of blood they gave, — 
May they, with glorious 
Untamable might, 

Make us victorious, 

Now, in the fight! 


ACT I. 219 


CHORUS. 


Look aloft! he seeks the Farness, 
Yet to us not small he seems. 

As for battle, as in harness, 

He like steel and silver gleams. 


EUPHORION. 


Walls and towers no more immuring, 
Each in vigor stands confessed ! 
Fortress firm and most enduring 

Is the soldier’s iron breast. 


Would ye dwell in freemen’s houses? 
Arm, and forth to combat wild! 

See, as Amazons, your spouses, 

And a hero every child ! 


CHORUS. 


Hallowed Poesy, 
Heavenward mounting, see! 
Shining, the fairest star, 
Farther, and still more far ! 
Yet, from the distance blown, 
Hear we the lightest tone, 
And raptured are. 


EUPHORION. 


No, ’t is no child which thou beholdest — 
A youth in arms, with haughty brow! 
And with the Strongest, Freest, Boldest, 
His soul is pledged, in manly vow. 

I go! 

For, lo! 

The path to Glory opens now.'3 


220 


FAUST. 


HELENA AND FAUST. 
Thou thy being scarcely learnest, 
Scarcely feel’st the Day’s glad beam, 
When from giddy steeps thou yearnest 
For the place of pain supreme! 
Are then we 
Naught to thee? 
Is the gracious bond a dream ? 


EUPHORION. 
And hear ye thunders on the ocean? 
From land the thunder-echoes call ? 
In dust and foam, with fierce commotion, 
The armies shock, the heroes fall! 
The command 
Is, sword in hand, 
To die: ’t is certain, once for all. 


HELENA, FAUST, AND CHORUS. 
What a horror! We shall rue it! 
Ah, is Death command to thee? 


EUPHORION. 
Shall I from the distance view it? 
No! the fate be shared by me! 


THE ABOVE. 
Danger his arrogance brings: 
Fatally bold ! 


EUPHORION. 
Yes !— and a pair of wings 
See me unfold ! 
Thither! I must!—and thus! 
Grant me the flight! 


[He casts himself into the air: the garments bear him a mo- 
ment, his head is illuminated, and a streak of light follows.] 








ACT M11. ast 


CHORUS. 
Icarus! Icarus! 
Sorrowful sight! 


[A beautiful Youth falls at the feet of the parents. We imagine 
that in the dead body we perceive a well-known form ; yet 
the corporeal part vanishes at once, and the aureole rises like 
@ comet towards heaven. The garment, mantle, and lyre 
remain upon the ground.) 


HELENA AND FAUST. 


Joy is followed, when scarce enjoyed, 
By bitterest moan. 


EUPHORION (/rom the depths). 


Leave me here, in the gloomy Void, 
Mother, not thus alone! 


Pause. 


CHORUS. [Dirge.]'™ 
Not alone! where’er thou bidest ; 
For we know thee what thou art. 
Ah! if from the Day thou hidest, 
Still to thee will cling each heart. 
Scarce we venture to lament thee, 
Singing, envious of thy fate; 
For in storm and sun were lent thee 
Song and courage, fair and great. 


Ah! for earthly fortune fashioned, 
Strength was thine, and proud descent: 
Early erring, o’er-impassioned, 

Youth, alas! from thee was rent. 

For the world thine eye was rarest, 

All the beart to thee was known: 


FA OST. 


Thine were loves of women fairest, 


And a song thy very own. 


Yet thou rannest uncontrolledly 

In the net the fancies draw, 

Thus thyself divorcing boldly 

As from custom, so from law; 

Till the highest thought expended 

Set at last thy courage free: 

Thou wouldst win achievement splendid, 
But it was not given to thee. 


Unto whom, then? Question dreary, 
Destiny will never heed ; 

When in evil days and weary, 
Silently the people bleed. 

But new songs shall still elate them : 
Bow no longer and deplore ! 

For the soil shall generate them, 

As it hath done heretofore. 


Complete pause. The music ceases. 


HELENA (fo Faust). 


Also in me, alas! an old word proves its truth, 
That Bliss and Beauty ne’er enduringly unite. 
Torn is the link of Life, no less than that of Love; 
So, both lamenting, painfully I say: Farewell! 
And cast myself again — once only — in thine arms. 
Receive, Persephone, receive the boy and me. 

(She ensbraces FAUST : her corporeal part disappears, her gare 


ment and veil remain in his arms.) 


PHORKYAS (fo Faust). 


Hold fast what now alone remains to thee ! 
The garment let not go! Already twitch 








ACT 1171. 423 


The Demons at its skirts, and they would fain 
To the Nether Regions drag it! Hold it fast! 
It is no more the Goddess thou hast lost, 
But godlike is it. For thy use employ 
The grand and priceless gift, and soar aloft! 
*T will bear thee swift from all things mean and low 
To ether high, so long thou canst endure. 
We'll meet again, far, very far from here. 
(HELENA’S gurments dissolve into clouds,'°5 surround FAUST, 
lift him aloft in the air, and move away with him.) 


PHORKYAS 
(takes up EUPHORION’S tunsc, mantle, and lyre from the earth, 

steps forward to the proscensum, holds aloft these remains, and 
speaks). 

Good leavings have I still discovered ! 

The Flame has vanished where it hovered, 

Yet for the world no tears I spend. 

Enough remains to start the Poets living, 

And envy in their guilds to send ; 

And, if their talents are beyond my giving, 

At least the costume I can lend. 

(She seats herself upon a column in the proscenium.) 


PANTHALIS. 


Now hasten, maidens! we are from the magic freed, 

The old Thessalian trollop’s mind-compelling spell, — 

Freed from the Jingling drone of much-bewildering 
sound, 

The ear confusing, and still more the inner sense. 

Down, then, to Hades! since beforehand went the 
Queen, 

With solemn step descending. Now, upon the track, 

Let straightway follow her the step of faithful maids! 

Her shall we find beside the unfathomed, gloomy King. 


224 FAUST. 


CHORUS. 


Queens, of course, are satisfied everywhere: 
Even in Hades take they highest rank, 
Proudly associate with their peers, 
With Persephone closely allied: 

We, however, in the background 

Of the asphodel-besprinkled meadows, 
With the endless rows of poplars 

And the fruitless willows ever mated, — 
What amusement, then, have we ? 
Bat-like to squeak and twitter 

In whispers uncheery and ghostly ! 


LEADER OF THE CHORUS. 


Who hath not won a name, and seeks not noble works, 
Belongs but to the elements: away then, ye! 
My own intense desire is with my Queen to be ; 
Service and faith secure the individual life.** 
[ Exit. 
ALL. 


Given again to the daylight are we, 
Persons no more, ’t is true, — 

We feel it and know it, — 

But to Hades return we never! 
Nature, the Ever-living,'” 

Makes to us spirits 

Validest claim, and we to her also. 


A PART OF THE CHORUS. 
We, in trembling whispers, swaying rustle of a thousand 
branches 
Sweetly rocked, will lightly lure the rills of life, the 
rootborn, upwards 
To the twigs; and, or with foliage or exuberant gush 
of blossoms, 








ACT III. 225 


Will we freely deck their flying hair for prosperous airy 
growth. 

Then, when falls the fruit, will straightway gather glad- 
dened herds and people, 

Swiftly coming, briskly pressing, for the picking and 
the tasting: 

All, as if before the early Gods, will then around us 
bend. 


A SECOND PART. 


We, beside these rocks, upon the far-off shining, glassy 
mirror, 

Coaxingly will bend and fluctuate, moving with the gen- 
tle waters ; 

We to every sound will hearken, song of bird or reedy 
piping ; 

Though the dreadful voice of Pan, a ready answer 
shall we give: 

Comes a murmur, we re-murmur, — thunder, we our 
thunders waken 

In reverberating crashes, doubly, trebly, tenfold flung! 


A THIRD PART. 


Sisters, we, of nimbler fancy, hasten with the brooklets 
onward ; 

For allure us yonder distant, richly-mantled mountain 
ranges. 

Ever downwards, ever deeper, in meandering curves 
we water 

First the meadow, then the pasture; then the garden 
round the house, 

Marked by slender peaks of cypress, shooting clearly 
into ether 

O’er the landscape and the waters and the fading line 
of shore. 

Io * 


226 FAUST. 


A FOURTH PART. 

Fare, ye others, at your pleasure; we will girdle and 
o’errustle 

The completely-planted hillside, where the sprouting 
vines are green. 

There at every hour the passion of the vintager is wit- 
nessed, : 

And the loving diligence, that hath so doubtful a result. 

Now with hoe and now with shovel, then with hilling, 
pruning, tying, 

Unto all the Gods he prayeth, chiefly to the Sun’s 
bright god. 

Small concern hath pampered Bacchus for his faithful 
servant’s welfare, 

But in arbors rests, and caverns, toying with the 
youngest Faun. 

For his semi-drunken visions whatsoever he hath needed, 

It is furnished him in wine-skins, and in amphore and 
vessels, 

Right and left in cool recesses, cellared for eternal time. 

But if now the Gods together, Helios before the others, 

Have with breeze and dew and warmth and glow the 
berries filled with juice, 

Where the vintager in silence labored, all is life and 


motion, 

Every trellis stirs and rustles, and they go from stake to 
Stake. 

Baskets creak and buckets rattle, groaning tubs are 
borne on back, 

All towards the vat enormous and the treaders’ lusty 
dance; 

So is then the sacred bounty of the pure-born, juicy 
berries 


Rudely trodden; foaming, spirting, they are mixed and 
grimly crushed. 








ACT JI. 227 


Now the ear is pierced with cymbals and the clash of 

brazen bosses, 

For, behold, is Dionysos from his mysteries revealed ! 

Forth he comes with goat-foot Satyrs, whirling goat-foot 

Satyresses, 

While amid the rout Silenus’ big-eared beast unruly 

brays. 

Naught is spared! The cloven hoofs tread down all 

decent custom ; 

All the senses whirl bewildered, fearfully the ear is 

stunned. 

Drunkards fumble for the goblets, over-full are heads 

and paunches ; 

Here and there hath one misgivings, yet increases thus 

the tumult; 

For, the fresher must to garner, empty they the ancient 

skin ! 

[ 7ke curtain falls*% PHORKYAS, in the proscenium, rises to 
@ giant height, steps down from the cothurni, removes her 
mask and veil, and reveals herself as MEPHISTOPHELES, i 
order, so far as tt may be necessary, to comment upon Lie 
piece by way of Epilogue. 


228 FAUST. 


ACT IV. 


a 
HIGH MOUNTAINS. 


Strong, serrated rocky peaks. A cloud approaches, pauses, and 
settles down upon a projecting ledge. It then divides. 


FAUST (séeps forth). 
OWN-GAZING on the deepest solitudes below, 

I tread deliberately this summit’s lonely edge, 
Relinquishing my cloudy car, which hither bore 
Me softly through the shining day o’er land and sea. 
Unscattered, slowly moved, it separates from me. 
Off eastward strives the mass with rounded, rolling 

march : 
And strives the eye, amazed, admiring, after it. 
In motion it divides, in wave-like, changeful guise ; 
Yet seems to shape a figure.'27 — Yes! mine eyes not 
err ! — 

On sun-illumined pillows beauteously reclined, 
Colossal, truly, but a godlike woman-form, 
Isee! The like of Juno, Leda, Helena, 
Majestically lovely, floats before my sight ! 
Ah, now ’t is broken! Towering broad and formlessly, 
It rests along the east like distant icy hills, 
And shapes the grand significance of fleeting days. 
Yet still there clings a light and delicate band of mist 








ACT IV. 229 


Around my breast and brow, caressing, cheering me. 

Now light, delayingly, it soars and higher soars, 

And folds together. — Cheats me an ecstatic form, 

As early-youthful, long-foregone and highest bliss ? 

The first glad treasures of my deepest heart break forth; 

Aurora’s love, so light of pinion, is its type, 

The swiftly-felt, the first, scarce-comprehended glance, 

Outshining every treasure, when retained and held. 

Like Spiritual Beauty mounts the gracious Form, 

Dissolving not, but lifts itself through ether far, 

And from my inner being bears the best away. 

(A Seven-league Boot trips forward :*3° another immediately 
follows. MEPHISTOPHELES steps out of them. The Boots 
stride onward in haste.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


I call that genuine forward-striding! 

But what thou mean’st, I ’d have thee own, 
That in such horrors art abiding, 

Amid these yawning jags of stone? 

It was not here I learned to know them well ; 
Such was, indeed, the bottom-ground of Hell. 


FAUST. 


In foolish legends thou art never lacking ; 
Again thy store thou set’st about unpacking. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (seriously). 


When God the Lord — wherefore, I also know, — 
Banned us from air to darkness deep and central, 
Where round and round, in fierce, intensest glow, 
Eternal fires were whirled in Earth’s hot entrail, 
We found ourselves too much illuminated, 

Yet crowded and uneasily situated. 

The Devils all set up a coughing, sneezing, 


230 FAUST. 


At every vent without cessation wheezing: 
With sulphur-stench and acids Hell dilated, 
And such enormous gas was thence created, 
That very soon Earth’s level, far extended, 
Thick as it was, was heaved, and split, and rended! 
The thing is plain, no theories o’ercome it: 
What formerly was bottom, now is summit. 
Hereon they base the law there ’s no disputing, 
To give the undermost the topmost footing : 
For we escaped from fiery dungeons there 

To overplus of lordship of the air ; — 

A mystery manifest and well concealed,’ 

And to the people only late revealed. 


FAUST. 


To me are mountain-masses grandly dumb : 

I ask not, Whence? and ask not, Why? they come. 
When Nature in herself her being founded, 
Complete and perfect then the globe she rounded, 
Glad of the summits and the gorges deep, 

Set rock to rock, and mountain steep to steep, 

The hills with easy outlines downward moulded, 
Till gently from their feet the vales unfolded ! 

They green and grow; with joy therein she ranges, 
Requiring no insane, convulsive changes. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Yes, so you talk! You think it clear as sun; 

But he knows otherwise, who saw it done. 

For I was there, while still below was surging 

The red abyss, and streamed the flaming tide, — 
When Moloch’s hammer, welding rocks and forging, 
Scattered the mountain-ruins far and wide. 

O’er all the land the foreign blocks you spy there ; '* 
Who solves the force that hurled them to their place ? 


ACT LV. 231 


The lore of learned men is all awry there ; 

There lies the rock, and we must let it lie there; 
We ’ve thought already — to our own disgrace. 
Only the common, faithful people know, 

And nothing shakes them in their firm believing: 
Their wisdom ripened long ago, — 

A marvel ’t is, of Satan’s own achieving. 

On crutch of faith my traveller climbs the ridges, 
Past Devil’s Rocks and over Devil’s Bridges. 


FAUST. 


Well, — ’t is remarkable and new 
To note how Devils Nature view. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


What ’s all to me? Her shape let Nature wear! 

The point of honor is, the Devil was there ! 

We are the folk to compass grand designs : 

Tumult, and Force, and Nonsense! See the signs !— 
Yet now, with sober reason to address thee, 

Did nothing on our outside shell impress ther ? 

From this exceeding height thou saw’st unfurled 

The glory of the Kingdoms of the World. 

Yet, as thou art, unsatisfied, 

Didst feel no lust of power and pride ? 


FAUST. 

I did! A mighty plan a fancy won: 
Canst guess it? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

That is quickly done. 
I'd take some town, — a capital, perchance, — 
Its core, the people’s need of sustenance ; 
With crooked alleys, pointed gables, 
Beets, cabbage, onions, on the market-tables ; 


232 FA OST. 


With meat-stands, where the blue flies muster, 
And round fat joints like gourmands cluster : 
There shalt thou find, undoubtedly, 

Stench, always, and activity. 

Then ample squares, and streets whose measure 
Assumes an air of lordly leisure ; 

And last, without a gate to bar, 

The boundless suburbs stretching far. 

’T were joy to see the coaches go, 

The noisy crowding to and fro, 

The endless running, hither, thither, 

Of scattered ants that stream together : 

And whether walking, driving, riding, 

Ever their central point abiding, 

Honored by thousands, should be I. 


FAUST. 


Therewith I would not be contented ! 
One likes to see the people multiply, 
And in their wise with comfort fed, — 
Developed even, taught, well-bred, 
Yet one has only, when all ’s said, 
The sum of rebels thus augmented." 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Then I should build, with conscious power and grace, 
A pleasure-castle in a pleasant place ; 

Where hill and forest, level, meadow, field, 

Grandly transformed, should park and garden yield. 
Before green walls of foliage velvet meadows, 

With ordered paths and artful-falling shadows ; 
Plunge of cascades o’er rocks with skill combined, 
And fountain-jets of every form and kind, 

There grandly shooting upwards from the middle, 
While round the sides a thousand spirt and piddle. 





ACT IV. 233 


Then for the fairest women, fresh and rosy, 

I ’d build a lodge, convenient and cosey ; 

And so the bright and boundless time 1 should 
Pass in the loveliest social solitude. 

Women, 1 say; and, once for all, believe 
That in the plural I the sex conceive ! 


FAUST. 
Sardanapalus! Modern, — poor! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Then might one guess whereunto thou hast striven ? 
Boldly-sublime it was, I ’m sure. 
Since nearer to the moon thy flight was driven, 
Would now thy mania that realm secure ? 


FAUST. 


Not so! This sphere of earthly soil 
Still gives us room for lofty doing. 
Astounding plans e’en now are brewing : 
I feel new strength for bolder toil. 


MEPHISTOPHELES, 


So, thou wilt Glory earn? ’T is plain to see 
That heroines have been thy company. 


FAUST. 


Power and Estate to win, inspires my thought ! 
The Deed is everything, the Glory naught. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Yet Poets shall proclaim the matter, 
Thy fame to future ages flatter, 
By folly further folly scatter ! 


234 FAUST. 


FAUST. 


All that is far beyond thy reach. 

How canst thou know what men beseech ? 
Thy cross-grained self, in malice banned, 
How can it know what men demand? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


According to thy will so let it be! 
Confide the compass of thy whims to me! 


FAUST. 


Mine eye was drawn to view the open Ocean : "3s 
It swelled aloft, self-heaved and over-vaulting, 
And then withdrew, and shook its waves in motion, 
Again the breadth of level strand assaulting. 
Then I was vexed, since arrogance can spite 
The spirit free, which values every right, 

And through excited passion of the blood 
Discomfort it, as did the haughty flood. 

I thought it chance, my vision did I strain; 

The billow paused, then thundered back again, 
Retiring from the goal so proudly won: 

The hour returns, the sport ’s once more begun. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (ad sfectatores). 


*T is nothing new whatever that one hears ; 
I ’ve known it many a hundred thousand years. 


FAUST 
(continuing impassionedly). 
The Sea sweeps on, in thousand quarters flowing, 
Itself unfruitful, barrenness bestowing ; 
It breaks and swells, and rolls, and overwhelms 
The desert stretch of desolated realms. 








AcT IV. 235 


There endless waves hold sway, in strength erected 
And then withdrawn, — and nothing is effected. 
If aught could drive me to despair, ’t were, truly 
The aimless force of elements upruly. 
Then dared my mind its dreams to over-soar: 
Here would I fight, — subdue this fierce uproar ! 
And possible ’t is !— Howe’er the tides may fill, 
They gently fawn around the steadfast hill ; 
A moderate height resists and drives asunder, 
A moderate depth allures and leads them on. 
So, swiftly, plans within my mind were drawn: 
Let that high joy be mine forevermore, 
To shut the lordly Ocean from the shore, 
The watery waste to limit and to bar, 
And push it back upon itself afar! 
From step to step I settled how to fight it: 
Such is my wish: dare thou to expedite it! 
\Drums and martial music in the rear of the spectators, fron 
the distance, on the right hand.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
How easy, that ! — Hear’st thou the drums afar? 


FAUST. 
Who ’s wise likes not to hear of coming war. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
In War or Peace, ’t is wise to use the chance, 
And draw some profit from each circumstance. 
One watches, marks the moment, and is bold: 
Here ’s opportunity ! — now, Faust, take hold ! 


FAUST. 


Spare me the squandering of thy riddle-pelf! 
What means it, once for all? Explain thyself! 


236 FA OST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Upon my way, to me it was discovered 

That mighty troubles o’er the Emperor hovered : 
Thou knowest him. The while we twain, beside him, 
With wealth illusive bounteously supplied him, 

Then all the world was to be had for pay ; 

For as a youth he held imperial sway, 

And he was pleased to try it, whether 

Both interests would not smoothly pair, 

Since ’t were desirable and fair 

To govern and enjoy, together. 


FAUST. 


A mighty error! He who would command 
Must in commanding find his highest blessing: 
Then, let his breast with force of will expand, 
But what he wills, be past another’s guessing ! 
What to his faithful he hath whispered, that 

Is turned to act, and men amaze thereat: 
Thus will he ever be the highest-placed 

And worthiest !— Enjoyment makes debased. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Such is he not! He dd enjoy, even he! 
Meanwhile the realm was torn by anarchy, 

Where great and small were warring with each other, 
And brother drove and slaughtered brother, 
Castle to castle, town ’gainst town arrayed, 

The nobles and the guilds of trade, 

The Bishop, with his chapter and congregation, -— 
All meeting eyes but looked retaliation. 

In churches death and murder; past the gates, 
The merchants travelled under evil fates; 

And all grew bolder, since no rule was drawn 

For life, but: Self-defence !— So things went on. 





ACT IV. 237 


FAUST. 
They went, they limped, they fell, arose again, 
Then tumbled headlong, and in heaps remain. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Such a condition no man dared abuse. 

Each would be something, each set forth his dues; 
The smallest even as full-measured passed : 

Yet for the best it grew too bad at last. 

The Capyble, they then arose with energy, 

And sid: “ Who gives us Peace, shall ruler be. 
The Emperor can and will not !— Be elected 
An Emperor new, anew the realm directed, 
Each one secure and sheltered stand, 

And in a fresh-constructed land 

Justice and Peace be mated and perfected !” 


FAUST. 
Priest-like, that sounds. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Priests were they, to be sure ; 
They meant their well-fed bellies to secure ; 
They. more than all, therein were implicated." 
The riot rose, the riot was consecrated, 
And now our Emperor, whom we gave delight, 
Comes hitherward, perchance for one last fight. 


FAUST. 
I pity him; he was so frank, forgiving. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Come, we Il look on! There’s hope while one is living! 
Let us release him from this narrow valley ! 
He’s saved a thousand times, if once he rally: 


238 FAUST. 


Who knows how yet the dice may fall ? 
If he has fortune, vassals come withal. 


[ They cross over the middle range of mountains, and view tht 
arrangement of the army in the valley. Drums and mils- 
tary music resound from below.] 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


A good position is, I see, secured them ; 
We ’ll join, then victory will be assured them. 


FAUST. 


What further, I should like to know ? 
Cheat! Blind delusion! Hollow show! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
No, — stratagems, for battle-winning ! 
Be steadfast for the grand beginning, 
And think upon thy lofty aim ! 
If we secure the realm its rightful claimant, 
Then shalt thou boldly kneel, and claim 
The boundless strand in feoff, as payment. 


FAUST. 


In many arts didst thou excel : 
Come, win a battle now, as well! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


No, fhou shalt win it! Here, in brief, 
Shalt thou be General-in-Chief. 


FAUST. 


A high distinction thou wouldst lend, — 
There to command, where naught 1 comprehead: 








ACT IV. 239 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Leave to the Staff the work and blame, 
Then the Field-Marshal ’s sure of fame! 
Of War-Uncouncils I have had enough, 
And my War-Council fashion of the stuff 
Of primal mountains’ primal human might: 
He’s blest, for whom its elements unite! 


FAUST. 
What do I see, with arms, in yonder place? 
Hast thou aroused the mountain-race ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES,. 
No! But I ’ve brought, like Peter Squence,'” 
From all the raff the quintessence. 
The Three Mighty Men appear.1® 
MEPHISTOPHELES. 
My fellows draw already near! 


Thou seest, of very different ages, 

Of different garb and armor they appear: 

They will not serve thee ill when battle rages. 
(Ad spectatores.) 


Now every child delights to see 

The harness and the helm of knightly action ° 
And allegoric, as the blackguards be, 

They ’ll only all the more give satisfaction. 


BULLY 
( young, lightly armed, clad in motley). 
When one shall meet me, face to face, 
My fisticuffs shall on his chops be showered; 
And midway in his headlong race, 
Fast by his flying hair I ’ll catch the coward. 


240 FAUST. 


HAVEQUICK 
(manly, well-armed, richly clad). 
Such empty brawls are only folly ! 
They spoil whate’er occasion brings. 
In ¢aking, be unwearied wholly, 
And after, look to other things! 


HOLDFAST 

(well in years, strongly-armed, without raiment). 
Yet little gain thereafter lingers! 
Soon slips great wealth between your fingers, 
Borne by the tides of Life as down they run. 
*T is well to take, indeed, but better still to hold: 
Be by the gray old churl controlled, 
And thou shalt plundered be by none. 


( They descend the mountain together.) 








ACT IV. 241 


IT. 


ON THE HEADLAND. 


Drums and military music from below. The EMPEROR'S tent 
ts pitched. 


EMPEROR. GENERAL-IN-CHIEF. LIFE-GUARDSMEN. 


GENERAL-IN-CHIEF. 


| fe still appears the prudentest of courses 
That here, in this appropriate vale, 

We have withdrawn and strongly massed our forces: 
I firmly trust we shall not fail. 


EMPEROR. 


What comes of it will soon be brought to light; 
Yet I dislike this yielding, semi-flight. 


GENERAL-IN-CHIEF. 


Look down, my Prince, where our right flank is planted ! 
The field which War desires hath here been granted: 
Not steep the hills, yet access not preparing, 

To us advantage, to the foe insnaring ; 

Their cavalry will hardly dare surround 

Our strength half hid, on undulating ground. 


EMPEROR. 
My commendation, only, need I speak ; 
Now arm and courage have the test they seek. 
VOL. I. It 





.242 FAUST. 


GENERAL-IN-CHIEF. 


Here, on the middle meadow’s level spaces 

Thou seest the phalanx, eager in their places. 

In air the lances gleam and sparkle, kissed 

By sunshine, through the filmy morning mist. 

How darkling sways the grand and powerful square! 
The thousands burn for great achievements there. 
Therein canst thou perceive the strength of masses ; 
And thine, be sure, the foemen’s strength surpasses. 


EMPEROR. 


Now first do I enjoy the stirring sight : 
An army, thus, appears of double might. 


GENERAL-IN-CHIEF. 


But of our left I ’ve no report to make. 

Brave heroes garrison the rocky brake; 

The stony cliffs, by gleams of weapons specked, 
The entrance to the close defile protect. 

Here, as I guess, the foemen’s force will shatter, 
Forced unawares upon the bloody matter. 


EMPEROR. 


And there they march, false kin, one like the other! 
Even as they styled me Uncle, Cousin, Brother, 
Assuming more, and ever more defying, 

The sceptre’s power, the throne’s respect, denying; 
Then, in their feuds, the realm they devastated, 
And now as Rebels march, against me mated ! 
Awhile with halting minds the masses go, 

Then ride the stream, wherever it may flow. 


GENERAL-IN-CHIEF. 


A faithful man, sent out some news to win, 
Comes down the rocks: may he have lucky been ! 


ACT IV. 243 


FIRST SPY. 


Luckily have we succeeded ; 

Helped by bold and cunning art, 

Here and there have pressed, and heeded, 
But ’t is ill news we impart. 

Many, purest homage pledging, 

Like the faithful, fealty swore, — 

For inertness now alleging 

People’s danger, strife in store. 


EMPEROR. 


They learn from selfishness self-preservation, 

Not duty, honor, grateful inclination. 

You do not think that, when your reckoning ’s shown, 
The neighbor’s burning house shall fire your own! 


GENERAL-IN-CHIEF. 


The Second comes, descending slowly hither ; 
A weary man, whose strength appears to wither. 


SECOND SPY. 


First with comfort we detected 

What their plan confused was worth ; 
Then, at once and unexpected, 

Came another Emperor forth. 

As he bids, in ordered manner 
March the gathering hosts away ; 

His unfolded lying banner 

All have followed. — Sheep are they ! 


EMPEROR. 


Now, by a Rival Emperor shall I gain: 
That / am Emperor, thus to me is plain. 


244 FAUST. 


But as a soldier I the mail put on; 

Now for a higher aim the sword be drawn! 

At all my shows, however grand to see, 

Did nothing lack: but Danger lacked, fo me. 
Though you but tilting at the ring suggested, 
My heart beat high to be in tourney tested ; 
And had you not from war my mind dissuaded, 
For glorious deeds my name were now paraded. 
But independence then did I acquire, 

When I stood mirrored in the realm of fire: 

In the dread element I dared to stand; — 

’T was but a show, and yet the show was grand. 
Of fame and victory I have dreamed alone ; 

But for the base neglect [ now atone ! 


(Zhe HERALDS are despatched to challenge the Rival Emperor 
fo single combat.) 


FAUust enters, in armor, with half-closed visor. The THREE 
MIGHTY MEN, armed and clothed, as already described. 


FAUST. 


We come, and hope our coming is not chidden ; 
Prudence may help, though by the need unbidden. 
The mountain race, thou know’st, think and explore, — 
Of Nature and the rocks they read the lore. 

The Spirits, forced from the level land to sever, 
Are of the rocky hills more fain than ever. 

Silent, they work through labyrinthine passes, 

In rich, metallic fumes of noble gases, 

On solving, testing, blending, most intent: 

Their only passion, something to invent. 

With gentle touch of spiritual power 

They build transparent fabrics, hour by hour; 
For they, in crystals and their silence, furled,'© 
Behold events that rule the Upper World. 








ACT IV. 245. 


EMPEROR. 


I understand it, and can well agree ; 
But say, thou gallant man, what ’s that to me? 


FAUST. 


The Sabine old, the Norcian necromancer," 
Thy true and worthy servant, sends thee answer: 
What fearful fate it was, that overhung him! 
The fagots crackled, fire already stung him ; 

The billets dry were closely round him fixed, 
With pitch and rolls of brimstone intermixed ; 
Not Man, nor God, nor Devil, him could save, — 
The Emperor plucked him from his fiery grave. 
It was in Rome. Still is he bound unto thee ; 
Upon thy path his anxious thoughts pursue thee ; 
Himself since that dread hour forgotten, he 
Questions the stars, the depths, alone for thee. 
Us he commissioned, by the swiftest courses 
Thee to assist. Great are the mountain’s forces; 
There Nature works all-potently and free, 
Though stupid priests therein but magic see. 


EMPEROR. 


On days of joy, when we the guests are greeting, 
Who for their gay delight are gayly meeting, 
Each gives us pleasure, as they push and pull, 
And crowd, man after man, the chambers full; 
Yet chiefly welcome is the brave man, thus, 

‘ ‘When as a bold ally he brings to us 

Now, in the fateful morning hour, his talents, 
While Destiny uplifts her trembling balance. 
Yet, while the fates of this high hour unfold, 
Thy strong hand from the willing sword withhold, — 
Honor the moment, when the hosts are striding, 
For or against me, to the field deciding! 





246 FAUST. 


Self is the Man!'# Who crown and throne would claim 
Must personally be worthy of the same. 

And may the Phantom, which against us stands, 

The self-styled Emperor, Lord of all our lands, 

The army’s Duke, our Princes’ feudal head, 

With mine own hand be hurled among the dead ! 


FAUST. 
Howe’er the need that thy great work be finished, 
Risked were thy head, the chances were diminished, 
Is not the helm adorned with plume and crest ? 
The head it shields, that steels our courage best. 
Without a head, what should the members bridle ? 
Let it but sleep, they sink supine and idle. 
If it be injured, all the hurt confess in ’t, 
And all revive, when it is convalescent. 
Then soon the arm its right shall reassert, 
And lift the shield to save the skull from hurt: 
The sword perceives at once its honored trust, 
Parries with vigor, and repeats the thrust: 
The gallant foot its share of luck will gain, 
And plants itself upon the necks of slain. 


EMPEROR. 
Such is my wrath; I ’d meet him thus, undaunted, 
And see his proud head as my footstool planted ! 


HERALDS (returning). 
Little honor was accorded ; 
We have met with scorn undoubted : 
Our defiance, nobly worded, 
As an empty farce they flouted : 
“Lo, your Lord is but a vision, — 
Echo of a vanished prime: 
When we name him, says Tradition : 
‘He was — once upon a time /'” 


ACT IV. 247 


FAUST. 


It ’s happened as the best would fain have planned, 
Who, firm and faithful, still beside thee stand. 
There comes the foe, thy army waits and wishes ; 
Order attack! the moment is auspicious. 


EMPEROR. 
Yet I decline to exercise command. 
( Zo the GENERAL-IN-CHIEF.) 
Thy duty, Prince, be trusted to thy hand ! 


GENERAL-IN-CHIEF. 


Then let the right wing now advance apace ! 

The enemy’s left, who just begin ascending, 

Shall, ere the movement close, give up their place, 
Before the youthful force our field defending. 


FAUST. 


Permit me, then, that this gay hero may 

Be stationed in thy ranks, without delay, — 
That with thy men most fully he consort, 
And thus incorporate, ply his vigorous sport! 


(He points to the MIGHTY MAN on the right.) 


BULLY (coming forward).** 
Who shows his face to me, before he turn 
Shall find his cheekbones and his chops are shattered : 
Who shows his back, one sudden blow shall earn, 
Then head and pig-tail dangling hang, and battered! 
And if thy men, like me, will lunge 
With mace and sword, beside each other, 
Man over man the foe shall plunge 
And in their own deep blood shall smother ! 
[Exit 





248° FAUST. 


GENERAL-IN-CHIEF. 
Let then our centre phalanx follow slow, — 
Engage with caution, yet with might, the foe! 
There to the right, already overtaken, 
Our furious force their plan has rudely shaken! 


FAUST ( pointing to the middle one). 
Let also this one now obey thy word ! 


HAVEQUICK (comes forward). 
Unto the host’s heroic duty . 
Shall now be joined the thirst for booty ; 
And be the goal, where all are sent, 
The Rival Emperor’s sumptuous tent ! 
He shall not long upon his seat be lorded: 
To lead the phalanx be to me accorded | 


SPEEDBOOTY 

(sulleress, fawning upon him). 
Though never tied to him by priest, 
He is my sweetheart dear, at least. 
Our autumn ’t is, of ripest gold ! 
Woman is fierce when she takes hold, 
And when she robs, is merciless : 
All is allowed, so forth to victory press ! 

[ Exeunt both, 
GENERAL-IN-CHIEF. 

Upon our left, as was to be foreseen, 
Their right is strongly hurled. Yon rocks -between, 
Ours will resist their furious beginning, 
And hinder them the narrow pass from winning. 


FAUST 
(beckons to the MIGHTY MAN on the left). 
I beg you, Sire, let this one also aid ; 
°T is well when even the strong are stronger made. 








ACT IV. 249 


HOLDFAST (coming forwards). 


Now let the left wing have no fear! 

‘The ground is surely held, where I appear : 
I am the Ancient you were told of : 

No lightning splits what I keep hold of! 


[ Exit 


MEPHISTOPHELES 
(descending from above). 


And now behold, how, more remote, 
From every jagged rocky throat 

Comes forth an arméd host, increasing, 
Down every narrow pathway squeezing, 
With helm and harness, sword and spear, 
A living rampart in our rear, 

And wait the sign to charge the foemen ! 


(Aside, to the knowing ones.) 


You must not ask whence comes the omen. 

I have not been a careless scout, 

But cleared the halls of armor round about. 
They stood a-foot, they sat on horses, 

Like Lords of Earth and real forces: 

Once Emperors, Kings, and Knights were they, 
Now empty shells, — the snails have crawled away. 
Full many ghosts, arrayed so, have for us 
Revamped the Middle Ages thus. 

Whatever Devils now the shells select, 

This once ’t will still create effect. 


( Aloud.) 


Hark! in advance they stir their anger, 

Each jostling each with brassy clangor ! 

The banner-rags of standards flutter flowing, 

That restless waited for the breeze’s blowing. 
11* 


250 FAUST. 


Here standeth ready, now, an ancient race; 
In the new conflict it would fain have place. 
| Zremendous peal of trumpets from above: a perceptible wavere 
ing i the hostile army.) 


FAUST. 


The near horizon dims and darkles ; 

Yet here and there with meaning sparkles 
A ruddy and presaging glow ; 

The blades are red where strife is sorest, 
The atmosphere, the rocks, the forest, 
The very heavens the combat show. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
The right flank holds its ground with vigor ; 
There, towering over all, defiant, 
Jack Bully works, the nimble giant, 
And drives them with his wonted rigor. 


EMPEROR. 


I first beheld one arm uplifted, 
But now a dozen tossed and shifted: 
Unnatural such things appear. 


FAUST. 


Hast thou not heard of vapors Banded, 
O’er the Sicilian coasts expanded ? 
There, hovering in daylight clear, 

When mid-air gleams in rarer phases, 
And mirrored in especial hazes, 

A vision wonderful awakes : 

There back and forth are cities bending, 
With gardens rising and descending, 

As form on form the ether breaks. 











ACT IV. 251 


EMPEROR. 


Yet how suspicious! I behold 

The tall spears tipped with gleams of gold: 
Upon our phalanx’ shining lances 

A nimble host of flamelets dances : 

Too spectral it appears to me. 


FAUST. 
Pardon me, Lord, those are the traces 
Of spirits of the vanished races, — 
The fires of Pollux and of Castor, 
Whom seamen call on in disaster : 
They here collect their final strength for thee. 


EMPEROR. 


But say, to whom are we indebted, 
That Nature hath our plans abetted, 
With shows of rarest potency ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


To whom, indeed, but that old Roman 

Whose care for thee at last is proved? 

By the strong menace of thy foemen 

His deepest nature has been moved. 

His gratitude would see thee now delivered, 
Though his own being for thy sake be shivered. 


EMPEROR. 


They cheered my march, with every pomp invested ; 
I felt my power, I meant to see it tested ; 

So, carelessly, I found it well, as ruler, 

To send the white beard where the air was cooler. 

I robbed the Clergy of a pleasant savor, 

And, truly, have not thus acquired their favor. 


254 


FAUST. 


Shall I, at last, since many years are over, 
The payment for that merry deed recover? 


FAUST. 
Free-hearted help heaps interest : 
Look up, and cease to watch the foemen! 
Methinks that Ae will send an omen: 
Attend ! the sign is now expressed.'45 


EMPEROR. 


An Eagle hovers in the heavenly vault : 
A Griffin follows, menacing assault. 


FAUST. 
Give heed! It seems most favorable. 
The Griffin is a beast of fable: 
How dare he claim a rival regal, 
And meet in fight a genuine Eagle? 


EMPEKOR. 
And now, in circles wide extended, 
They wheel involved, — then, like a flash, 
Upon each other swiftly dash, 
That necks be cleft and bodies rended! 


FAUST. 
Mark now the evil Griffin quail! 
Rumpled and torn, the foe he feareth, 
And with his drooping lion’s-tail, 
Plunged in the tree-tops, disappeareth. 


EMPEROR. 


Even as presaged, so may it be! 
I take the sign, admiringly. 








ACT IV. 253 


MEPHISTOPHELES (towards the right). 


From the force of blows repeated 
Have our enemies retreated ; 

And in fight uncertain, shifting, 
Towards their right they now are drifting, 
Thus confusing, by their courses, 
All the left flank of their forces. 
See! our phalanx, firmly driven, 
Moves to right, and, like the levin, 
Strikes them in the weak position. — 
Now, like waves in wild collision, 
Equal powers, with rage opposing, 
In the double fight are closing. 
Gloriously the weapons rattle ; 

We, at last, have won the battle! 


EMPEROR 
(on the left, to FAUST). 


Look! it yonder seems suspicious ; 
For our post the luck ’s capricious. 
Not a stone I see them throw there; 
Mounted are the rocks below there, 
And the upper ones deserted. 

Now !—to one huge mass converted 
Nearer moves the foe, unshaken, 
And perchance the pass hath taken. 
Such the unholy plan’s conclusion ! 
All your arts are but delusion. 


Pause. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
There come my ravens, croaking presage ; 
What nature, then, may be their message? 
I fear we stand in evil plight. 


254° 


FAUST. 


EMPEROR. 


What mean these fatal birds enchanted ? 
Their inky sails are hither slanted, 
Hot from the rocky field of fight. 





MEPHISTOPHELES (to the Ravens). 


Sit at mine ears, your flight retarded ! 
He is not lost whom you have guarded ; 
Your counsel ’s logical and right. 


FAUST (¢o ‘the EMPEROR). 


Thou hast, of course, been told of pigeons, 
Taught to return from distant regions 

To nests upon their native coast. 

Here, differently, the plan ’s succeeded ; 
The pigeon-post for Peace is needed, 

But War requires the raven-post. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


The birds announce us sore mischances. 
See, yonder, how the foe advances 
Against our heroes’ rocky wall, 

The nearest heights even now attaining ! 
Should they succeed the pass in gaining, 
Our fortunes, then, were critical. 


EMPEROR. 
Defeat and cheat at last are on me! : 
Into your meshes you have drawn me: 
I shudder, since they bind me fast. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Courage! Not yet the die is cast. 
Patience and knack, for knot-untying ! 
The close will be the fiercest stand. 


ACT IV. 255 


Sure messengers for me are flying: 
Command that I may give command ! 


GENERAL-IN-CHIEF 

(who has meanwhile arrived). 
To follow these hast thou consented ; 
Thence all the time was I tormented: 
No fortune comes of jugglery. 
The battle ’s lost, I cannot mend it; 
’T was they began, and they may end it: 
My baton I return to thee. 


EMPEROR. 

Retain it for the better season 
Which Fortune still to us may send! 
I dread the customers with reason, — 
The ravens and their ugly friend. 

(Zo MEPHISTOPHELES.) 
As for the baton, thou must leave it ; 
Thou ’rt not, methinks, the proper man. 
Command the fight, canst thou retrieve it! 
Let happen all that happen can! 

[Zxit into the tent with the GENERAL-IN-CHIER 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


The blunt stick still be his protection ! 
*T would naught avail in or direction ; 
There was a sort of Cross thereon. 


FAUST. 
What ’s to be done ? 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


The thing is done ! #* — 
Now, my black cousins, speed upon your duties 





256 FACST. 


To the mountain-lake! The Undines, watery beauties, 
Entreat, the appearance of their floods to spare ! 

By female arts, beyond our sharpest seeing, 

They can divide the Appearance from the Being, 

And all will swear the Being ’s there! 


Pause. 


FAUST. 


Our ravens must, with flattery beladen, 

Have sweetly coaxed each winsome water-maiden ; 
The trickling streams at once descend. 

The bald and rocky shoulders of the mountains 
Give birth to full and swiftly-flowing fountains ; 
Their victory is at an end. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


To such reception they ’re not used: 
The boldest climbers grow confused. 


FAUST. 


Now brook roars down to brook with mighty bubble ; 
Then from the mouths of glens they issue double, 
And fling themselves, in arches, o’er the pale; 

‘Then suddenly spread along the rocky level, 

And to and fro foam onward in their revel, 

As down a stairway hurled into the vale. 

What boots their gallant, hero-like resistance ? 

The billow bursts, and bears them down the distance ; 
Before such wild uproar even I must quail. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Nothing I see of all this moist illusion : 

To human eyes, alone, it brings confusion, . 
And in the wondrous chance I take delight. 
They fly in headlong, hurried masses ; 





ACT IV. 254 


That they are drowning, think the asses: 
Though on the solid land, they see an ocean, 
And run absurdly with a swimming motion. 
It is a most bewildering plight. 


(Zhe Ravens return.) 


To the high Master will I praise you duly; 

But would you test yourselves as masters fully, 
Then hasten to that smithy eerie, 

Where the dwarf-people, never weary, 

Hammer the sparks from ore and stone. 
Demand, while there you prate and flatter, 

A fire to shine, and shoot, and scatter, 

As in the highest sense ’t is known. 

’T is true that distant lightning, quivering far-lights, 
And falling, quick as wink, of highest star-lights, 
May happen any summer night; 

- But lightning, loose among the tangled bushes, 
And stars that hiss and fizzle in the rushes, 

Are shows that seldom meet the sight. 

Take no great pains, you understand ; 

But first entreat, and then command! 


(Exeunt the Ravens. All takes place as prescribed.) 


Upon the foe falls Night’s thick curtain, 
And step and march become uncertain! 
In every quarter wandering blazes, 

And sudden glare, that blinds and dazes ! 
All that seems fine; yet we should hear 
Their wild, commingled cries of fear. 


FAUST. 


The hollow armor from the vaulted chambers 
In the free air its ancient strength remembers : 
It rattles there, and clatters all around, — 

A wonderful, a cheating sound. 


258 FAUST. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Quite right! The forms there ’s no restraining: 

Already knightly whacks are raining, 

As in the splendid times of old. 

The brassarts there, as well as cuisses, 

Are Guelfs and Ghibellines ; and this is 

Renewal of the feud they hold. 

Firm in transmitted hate they anchor, 

And show implacably their rancor : 

Now far and wide the noise hath rolled. 

At last, the Devils find a hearty 

Advantage in the hate of Party, 

Till dread and ruin end the tale: 

Repulsive sounds of rage and panic, 

With others, piercing and Satanic, 

Resound along the frightened vale ! 

| Warlika tumult in the Orchestra, finally passing into lively 

martial measures.) 





ACT IV. 259 


III. 
THE RIVAL EMPEROR’S TENT. 


THRONE: RICH SURROUNDINGS. 
HAVEQUICK. SPEEDBOOTY. 


SPEEDBOOTY. 
S° we are here the first, I see! 


HAVEQUICK. 
No raven flies so swift as we. 


SPEEDBOOTY. 


O, how the treasure-piles extend ! 
Where shall I once begin? where end? 


HAVEQUICK. 


But all the space is full! And now 
I krow not what to take, I vow! 


SPEEDBOOTY. 


This carpet is the thing I need! 
My couch is often hard indeed. 


HAVEQUICK. 


Here hangs a morning-star, so strong, 
The like of which I ’ve wanted long. 


SPEEDBOOTY. 


This crimson mantle, bound with gold, 
Is like the one my dreams foretold. 





FAUST. 


HAVEQUICK (taking the weapon). 
With this, a man is quickly sped ; 
One strikes him dead, and goes ahead. 
Thou art already laden so, 
And nothing right thy sack can show. 
This rubbish, rather, here forsake, 
And one of yonder caskets take! 
The army’s modest pay they hold, 
Their bellies full of purest gold. 


SPEEDBOOTY. 


O what a murderous weight is there! 
I cannot lift it, cannot bear. 


HAVEQUICK. 


Quick, bend and squat to take the pack! 
I ’ll heave it on thy sturdy back. 


SPEEDBOOTY. 


Ome! Alack! the burden slips: 
The weight has crushed my back and hips. 
(Zhe chest falls and bursts open.) 


HAVEQUICK. 


There lies the red gold in a heap! 
Quick, rake and take what thou canst keep! 


SPEEDBOOTY (crouching down). 


Quick, let the booty fill my lap! 
’T will still be quite enough, mayhap. 


HAVEQUICK. 
So! there ’s enough! Now haste, and go! 
(She rises.) 
The apron has a hole, ah woe! 


ACT IV. 261 


Wherever thou dost walk or stand, 
Thou sowest treasure on the land." 


GUARDSMEN (of our EMPEROR). 


What seek ye here with wanton eyes? 
Ye rummage the Imperial prize ! 


HAVEQUICK. 
We hazarded our limbs for pay, 
And now we take our share of prey. 
In hostile tents ’t is always so, 
And we are soldiers too, you know. 


GUARDSMEN. 
Among our troops he comes to grief 
Who ’s both a soldier and a thief : 
Who serves our Emperor fair and free, 
Let him an honest soldier be! 


HAVEQUICK. 
O yes! such honesty we know: 
’T is Contribution, — call it so! '# 
In the same mould you all are made . 
“ Give!” is the password of your trade. 
(7o SPEEDBOOTY.) 
With what thou hast, the coast we ’ll clear: 


As guests we are not welcome here. 
[Exeunt. 


FIRST GUARDSMAN. 


Why didst thou not at once bestow 
On the scamp’s face a smashing blow? 


SECOND. 


I know not, — had not strength to strike ; 
They seemed to me so phantom-like. 


: 262 FAUST. 


THIRD. 


Something there was disturbed my sight, — 
A flash: I could not see aright. 


FOURTH. 


J, also, can declare it not: 

The whole day long it was so hot, 

So sultry, close, and terrible ; 

One man stood firm, another fell ; 

We groped and fought, with valor rash, 

The foemen fell at every slash ; 

Before one’s eyes there was a mist, 

And something roared, and hummed, and hissed ; 
So to the end, and here are we, 

And how it happened, cannot see. 


{ 7hke EMPEROR enters, accompanied by FouR PRINCES. The 
GUARDSMEN retire.) 


EMPEROR.'” 


Now fare he, as he may! For us is won the battle, 

And o’er the plain the foe have fled like frightened cattle. 

The trait’rous treasure, here, the empty throne, we ’ve 
found, 

That, hung with tapestry, contracts the space around. 

Enthroned in honor we, true guardsmen us protecting, 

The people’s envoys are imperially expecting. 

The messengers of joy arrive from every side, 

And, loyal now to us, the realm is pacified. 

Though in our fight, perchance, some jugglery was woven, 

Yet, at the last, our own unaided strength we ’ve proven. 

True, accidents sometimes for combatants are good ; 

A stone may fall from heaven, on foes a shower of blood; 

From rocky caves may ring tremendous strains of wonder, 

That lift our hearts with faith, and drive the foe asunder. 





ACT IV. 263 
The Conquered yielded, scourged by Scorn’s immortal 


9 

The Victor, as he boasts, exalts the favoring God ; 
And all responsive shout, unordered, unentreated : 
“ We praise Thee, God our Lord !” from million throats 

repeated. 
Yet as the highest praise, so rarely else expressed, 
I turn my pious glance on mine own grateful breast. 
A young and lively Prince may give his days to pleasure ; 
Him teach the years, at last, the moment’s use to measure. 
Therefore, without delay, I call ye, for support, 
Beside me, worthy Four, in realm and house and court. 


(Zo the First.) 


Thine was, O Prince! the host’s arrangement, wise in- 
spection, 

Then, in the nick of time, heroic, bold direction : 

Act now in peace, as Time thine offices may show! 

Arch-Marshal shalt thou be: the sword I here bestow. 


ARCH-MARSHAL. 


Thy faithful host, till now employed for civil order, 

Thee and thy throne secured, shall strengthen next thy 
border : 

Then let us be allowed, when festal throngs are poured 

Through thine ancestral halls, to dress for thee the board. 

Before thee brightly borne, and brightly held beside thee, 

Thy Majesty’s support, the sword shall guard and guide 
thee! 


EMPEROR (fo the SECOND). 
He who as gallant man can also gracious be, 
Thou, — be Arch-Chamberlain ! — not light the place, 
for thee. 
Thou art the highest now of all the house-retainers 


264 FAUST. 


Whose strife makes service bad, — the threateners and 
complainers : 

Let thy example be an honored sign to these, 

How they the Prince and Court, and all, should seek to 
please ! 


ARCH-CHAMBERLAIN. 
To speed thy high design, thy grace is fair precursor : 
The Better to assist, and injure not the Worser, — 
Be frank, yet cunning not, and calm without deceit ! 
If thou but read my heart, I’m honored as is meet. 
But let my fancy now to festal service hasten ! 
Thou goest to the board, I bear the golden basin, 
And hold thy rings for thee, that on such blissful days 
Thy hands may be refreshed, as 1 beneath thy gaze. 


EMPEROR. 


Too serious am I still, to plan such celebration; 
Yet be itso! We need a giad inauguration. 


( Zo the THIRD.) 


_I choose thee Arch-High-Steward! ‘Therefore hence- 
forth be 

Chase, poultry-yard, and manor subject unto thee! 

Give me at all times choice of dishes I delight in, 

As with the month they come, and cooked with appe 
tite in! 


ARCH-HIGH-STEWARD. 


A rigid fast shall be the penalty I wish, 

Until before thee stands a goodly-savored dish. 

The kitchen-folk shall join, and gladly heed my reasons 
To bring the distant near and expedite the seasons. 
Yet rare and early things shall not delight thee long: 
Thy taste desires, instead, the simple and the strong. 








ACT IV. 265 


EMPEROR (fo the FOURTH). 
Since here, perforce, we plan but feasts, and each is sharer, 
Be thou for me transformed, young hero, to Cup-bearer ! 
Arch Cup-Bearer, take heed, that all those vaults of mine 
Richly replenished be with noblest taps of wine ! 
Be temperate thyself, howe’er temptation presses, 
Nor let occasion’s lure mislead thee to excesses ! 


ARCH CUP-BEARER. 


My Prince, the young themselves, if trust in them be 
shown, 

Are, ere one looks around, already men full-grown. 

I at the lordly feast shall also take my station, 

And give thy sideboard’s pomp the noblest decoration 

Of gorgeous vessels, golden, silver, grand to see; 

Yet first the fairest cup will I select for thee, — 

A clear Venetian glass, good cheer within it waiting, 

Helping the taste of wine, yet ne’er intoxicating. 

One oft confides too much on such a treasured store: 

Thy moderation, though, High Lord, protects thee more. 


EMPEROR. 

What, in this earnest hour, for you have I intended, 
From valid mouth confidingly you ’ve comprehended. 
The Emperor’s word is great, his gift is therefore sure, 
But needs, for proper force, his written signature : 
The high sign-manual fails. Here, for commission 

needful, 
I see the right man come, of the right moment heedful. 


(Zhe ARCHBISHOP-ARCH-CHANCELLOR enters.) 


EMPEROR. 
If in the keystone of the arch the vault confide, 
'T is then securely built, for endless time and tide. 
VOL. II. 12 





266 FAUST. 


Thou seest Four Princes here! To them we ’ve just 
expounded 
How next our House and Court shall be more stably 
founded. 
Now, all the realm contains, within its bounds enclosed, 
Shall be, with weight and power, upon Ye Five imposed ! 
Your landed wealth shall be before all others splendid ; 
Therefore at once have I your properties extended 
From their inheritance, who raised ’gainst us the hand. 
You I award, ye Faithful, many a lovely land, 
Together with the right, as you may have occasion, 
To spread them by exchange, or purchase, or invasion: 
Then be it clearly fixed, that you unhindered use 
Whate’er prerogatives have been the landlord’s dues. 
When ye, as Judges, have the final sentence spoken, 
By no appeal from your high Court shall it be broken: 
Then levies, tax and rent, pass-money, tolls and fees 
Are yours, —of mines and salt and coin the royalties. 
That thus my gratitude may validly be stated, 
You next to Majesty hereby I ’ve elevated. 


ARCHBISHOP. 


In deepest thanks to thee we humbly all unite: 
Thou mak’st us strong and sure, and strengthenest thy 

might. 

EMPEROR. 

Yet higher dignities I give for your fulfilling. 
Still for my realm I live, and still to live am willing; 
Yet old ancestral lines compel the prudent mind 
To look from present deeds to that which looms behind. 
I, also, in my time, must meet the sure Redresser ; 
Your duty be it, then, to choose me a successor. 
Crowned, at the altar raise his consecrated form, 
That so may end in peace what here began in storm! 


ACT IV. 267 - 


ARCH-CHANCELLOR. 
With pride profound, yet humbly, as our guise evinces, 
Behold, before thee bowed, the first of earthly princes ! 
So long the faithful blood our living veins shall fill, 
We are the body which obeys thy lightest will. 


EMPEROR. 
Now, to conclude, let all that we have here asserted, 
Be, for the future time, to document converted ! 
’T is true that ye, as lords, have your possession free, 
With this condition, though, that it unparcelled be; 
And what ye have from us, howe’er ye swell the treas- 


ure, 
Shall to the eldest son descend in equal measure. 


ARCH-CHANCELLOR. 
On parchment I, at once, shall gladly tabulate, 
To bless the realm and us, the statute of such weight: 
The copy and the seals the Chancery shall procure us, 
Thy sacred hand shall then validity assure us. 


EMPEROR. 
Dismissal now I grant, that you, assembled, may 
Deliberate upon the great, important day. 
(Zhe Secular Princes retire.) 


ARCHBISHOP 
(remains and speaks pathetically). 
The Chancellor withdrew, the Bishop stands before 
thee: 
A warning spirit bids that straightway he implore thee! 
His heart paternal quakes with anxious fear for thee. 


EMPEROR. 
In this glad hour what may thy dread misgiving be? 


268 FAUST. 


ARCHBISHOP. 


Alas, in such an hour, how much my pain must greaten,. 

To find thy hallowed head in covenant with Satan ! 

True, to the throne, it seems, hast thou secured thy 
right ; 

But, woe! in God the Lord’s, the Holy Pontiff’s spite. 

Swift shall he punish when he learns the truth — the 
latter : 

Thy sinful realm at once with holy ban he ’ll shatter ! 

He still remembers how, amid thy highest state, 

When newly crowned, thou didst the wizard liberate.'> 

Thy diadem but made thy heart for Christians harden, 

For on that head accurst fell its first beam of pardon. 

Now beat thy breast, and from thy guilty stores, this 
day, 

Unto the Sanctuary a moderate mite repay ! 

The spacious sweep of hills, where stood thy tent 
erected, — 

Where Evil Spirits then, united, thee protected, — 

Where late the Liar-Prince thy hearing did secure, — 

Devote thou, meekly taught, to pious use and pure, 

With hill and forest dense, far as they stretch extended, 

And slopes that greenly swell for pastures never ended, 

Then crystal lakes of fish, unnumbered brooks that flow 

In foamy windings down, and braid the vale below; 

The broad vale then, itself, with mead, and lawn, and 
hollow! 

Thus penitence is shown, and pardon soon shall follow. 


EMPEROR. 
For this, my heavy sin, my terror is profound : 
By thinc own measure shalt thou draw the borders 
round. | 
ARCHBISHOP. 


First be the spot profane, where sin was perpetrated, 











ACT IV. 269 


To God’s high service soon and wholly dedicated ! 

With speed the walls arise to meet the mind’s desire; 

The rising morning sun already lights the choir; 

The growing structure spreads, the transept stands ex- 
alted ; 

Joy of Believers, then, the nave is lifted, vaulted ; 

And while they press with zeal within the portals grand, 

The first clear call of bells is swept across the land, 

Pealed from the lofty towers that heavenwards have 
striven : 

The penitent draws near, new life to him is given. 

The consecration-day — O, may it soon be sent !— 

Thy presence then shall be the highest ornament. 


EMPEROR. 
So great a work shall be my pious proclamation 
To praise the Lord our God, and work mine expiation. 
Enough! I feel, e’en now, how high my thoughts as- 
pire. 
ARCHBISHOP. 
As Chancellor, next, the formal treaty I require. 


EMPEROR. 


A formal document, — the Church needs full requital’. 
Bring it to me, and I with joy will sign her title! 


ARCHBISHOP 
(has taken leave, but turns back again at the door), 


At once unto the work devote, that it may stand, 
Tithes, levies, tax, — the total income of the land, 
Forever. Much it needs, to be supported fairly, 
And careful maintenance will also cost us rarely : 
And, that it soon be built, on such a lonesome wold, 
Thou ‘It from thy booty spare to us some little gold. 


270 FAUST. 


Moreover, we shall want — here, most, we claim assist- 
ance — 

Lumber, and lime, and slate, and such like, from a dis- 
tance. 

The people these shall haul, thus from the pulpit taught; 

The Church shall bless the man, whose team for her 


has wrought. 
[Zxst. 


. EMPEROR. 
The sin is very sore, wherewith my soul is weighted : 
Much damage unto me the Sorcerers have created. 


ARCHBISHOP 
(returning once again, with profoundest genufiections). 
Pardon, O Prince! to him, that vile, notorious man, 
The Empire’s coast was given; but him shall smite the 
ban, 
Unless thy penitence the Church’s wrath relaxes 
There, too, with tithes and gifts, and revenues and taxes. 


EMPEROR (tU-humoredly). 
The land doth not exist: far in the sea it lies. 


ARCHBISHOP. 


Who patient is, and right, his day shall yet arise. 
Your word for us remains, and makes secure our trover! 
| Zxit. 


EMPEROR (solus). 
I might as well, at last, make all the Empire over! 





ACT V. 271 


ACT V.* 


——¢—— 
I. 


OPEN COUNTRY. 


WANDERER. 


ES! ’t is they, the dusky lindens ; 
There they stand in sturdy age: 

And again shall I behold them, 
After such a pilgrimage ? 
’T is the ancient place, the drifted 
Downs, the hut that sheltered me, 
When the billow, storm-uplifted, 
Hurled me shoreward from the sea! 
Here with blessing would I greet them, 
They, my hosts, the helpful pair, — 
Old, indeed, if now I meet them, 
Since they then had hoary hair. 
Pious folk, from whom I parted! 
Be my greeting here renewed, 
If ye still, as open-hearted, 
Taste the bliss of doing good! 


BAUCIS'* (a little woman, very old). 


Gently, stranger! lest thou cumber 
Rest, whereof my spouse hath need ! 
He but gains from longest slumber 
Strength for briefest waking deed. 


272 


FAUST. 


WANDERER. 


Tell me, mother, art thou even 
She, to whom my thanks I bear, — 
I, the youth, whose life was given 
By your kind, united care? 
Art thou Baucis, who the coldly 
Fading mouth refreshment gave ? 
(The Husband appears.) 
Thou, Philemon, who so boldly 
Drew my treasure from the wave ? 
From your fire, so quickly burning, 
From your silver-sounding bell, 
Changed my doom, to fortune turning, 
When the dread adventure fell. 
Forth upon the sand-hills stealing, 
Let me view the boundless sea! 
Let me pray, devoutly kneeling, 
Till my burdened heart be free ! 
(He walks forward upon the downs.) 


PHILEMON (fo BAUCIS). 


Haste, and let the meal be dighted 
’Neath the garden’s blooming trees! 
Let him go, and be affrighted ! 

He ’ll believe not what he sees. 


(Follows, and stands beside the WANDERERS 


Where the savage waves maltreated 
You, on shores of breaking foam, 
See, a garden lies completed, 

Like an Eden-dream of home! 

Old was I, no longer eager, 
Helpful, as the younger are: 

And when I had lost my vigor, 

Also was the wave afar. 











ACT V. 273 


Wise lords set their serfs in motion, 
Dikes upraised and ditches led, 
Minishing the rights of Ocean, 
Lords to be in Ocean’s stead. 

See the green of many a meadow, 
Field and garden, wood and town! 
Come, our table waits in shadow! 
For the sun is going down. 

Sails afar are gliding yonder ; 
Nightly to the port they fare: 

To their nest the sea-birds wander, 
For a harbor waits them there. 
Distant now, thou hardly seést 
Where the Sea’s blue arc is spanned,'3 — 
Right and left, the broadest, freest 
Stretch of thickly-peopled land. 


12* R 


274 FAUST. 


IT. 
IN THE LITTLE GARDEN. 


THE THREE AT THE TABLE. 


BAUCIS (fo the Stranger). 


A® thou dumb? Of all we ’ve brought here, 
In thy mouth shall nothing fall ? 


PHILEMON. 


He would know the marvel wrought here : 
Fain thou speakest: tell him all! 


BAUCIS. 


’T was a marvel, if there ’s any! 
And the thought disturbs me still: 
In a business so uncanny 

Surely helped the Powers of IIL 


PHILEMON. 


Can the Emperor’s soul be perilled, 
Who on him the strand bestowed ? 
Gave the mandate not the herald, 
Trumpeting, as on he rode? 

Near our downs, all unexpected, 
Was the work’s beginning seen, 
Tents and huts ! — but, soon erected, 
Rose a palace o’er the green. 


BAUCIS. 
Knaves in vain by day were storming,'™ 





ACT VP. 275 


Plying pick and spade alike ; 
Where the fires at night were swarming, 
Stood, the following day, a dike. 
Nightly rose the sounds of sorrow, 
Human victims there must bleed: 
Lines of torches, on the morrow, 
Were canals that seaward lead. 
He would seize our field of labor, 
Hut and garden, godlessly : 

Since he lords it as our neighbor, 
We to him must subject be. 


PHILEMON. 


Yet he bids, in compensation, 
Fair estate of newer land. 


BAUCIS. 


Trust not watery foundation ! 
Keep upon the hill thy stand ! 


PHILEMON. 


Let us, to the chapel straying, 

Ere the sunset-glow has died, 

Chime the vespers, kneel, and, praying, 
Still in our old God confide! 


295 FAUST. 


IIT. 


PALACE. 


SPACIOUS PLEASURE-GARDEN: BROAD, STRAIGHTLY- 
cuT CANAL. 


FAUST (in extreme old age, walking about, meditative). 


LYNCEUS, THE WARDER 
(through the speaking-trumpet). 


oe sun goes down, the ships are veering 
To reach the port, with song and cheer : 
A heavy galley, now appearing 

On the canal, will soon be here. 

The gaudy pennons merrily flutter, 

The masts and rigging upward climb : 
Blessings on thee the seamen utter, 

And Fortune greets thee at thy prime. 


( The lsttle bell rings on the downs.) 


FAUST (starting). 
Accurséd chime! As in derision 
It wounds me, like a spiteful shot: 
My realm is boundless to my vision, 
Yet at my back this vexing blot! 
The bell proclaims, with envious bluster, 
My grand estate lacks full design : *55 
The brown old hut, the linden-cluster, 
The crumbling chapel, are not mine. 
If there I wished for recreation, 





ACT V. 277 


Another’s shade would give no cheer: 
A thorn it is, a sharp vexation, — 
Would I were far away from here ! 


WARDER (from above). 
With evening wind and favoring tide, 
See the gay galley hither glide! 
How richly, on its rapid track, 
Tower chest and casket, bale and sack! 
(A splendid Galley, richly and brilliantly laden with the pro- 
ductions of Foreign Countries.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES. THE THREE MIGHTY MEN. 


CHORUS. 


Here we have landed : 
Furl the sail ! 

Hail to the Master, 
Patron, hail! 


(They disembark : the goods ave brought ashore.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


We ’ve proved our worth in many ways, 
Delighted, if the Patron praise ! 

We sailed away with vessels twain, 
With twenty come to port again.'* 

Of great successes to relate, 

We only need to show our freight. 

Free is the mind on Ocean free - 

Who there can ponder sluggishly ? 

You only need a rapid grip: 

You catch a fish, you seize a ship; 

And when you once are lord of three, 
The fourth is grappled easily ; 

The fifth is then in evil plight; 

You have the Power, and thus the Right. 


278 FAUST. 


You count the Whaf, and not the How: 
If I have ever navigated, 

War, Trade and Piracy, I vow, 

Are three in one, and can’t be separated! 


THE THREE MIGHTY MEN. 


No thank and hail? 
No hail and thank? 
As if our freight 

To him were rank! 
He makes a face 

Of great disgust ; 
The royal wealth 
Displease him must. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Expect no further 
Any pay ; 

Your own good share 
Ye took away. 


THE MIGHTY MEN. 


We only took it 
For pastime fair ; 
We all demand 
An equal share. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
First, arrange them 
In hall on hall, — 
The precious treasures, 
Together all! 
If such a splendor 
Meets his ken, 


And he regards it - 








ACT V. 279 


More closely then, 

A niggard he 

Won’t be, at least: 

He ’ll give our squadron 

Feast on feast. 

To-morrow the gay birds hither wend," 
And I can best to them attend. 


(Zhe cargo ts removed.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES (fo FAUST). 


With gloomy gaze, with serious brow, 
Of this great fortune hearest thou. 
Crowned is thy wisest industry, 
And reconciled are shore and sea; 
And from the shore, to swifter wakes, 
The willing sea the vessels takes. 
Speak, then, that here, from thy proud seat, 
Thine arm may clasp the world complete. 
Here, on this spot, the work was planned ; 
Here did the first rough cabin stand ; 
A little ditch was traced, a groove, 
Where now the feathered oar-blades move. 
Thy high intent, thy servants’ toil, 
From land and sea have won the spoil. 
From here — 
FAUST. 

Still that accursed Here / 
To me a burden most severe. 
To thee, so clever, I declare it, — 
It gives my very heart a sting ; 
It is impossible to bear it! 
Yet shamed am I, to say the thing. 
The old ones, there, should make concession ; 
A shady seat would I create : 
The lindens, not my own possession, 


FA OST. 


Disturb my joy in mine estate. 

There would I, for a view unbaffled, 
From bough to bough erect a scaffold, 
Till for my gaze a look be won 

O’er everything that I have done, — 
To see before me, unconfined, 

The masterpiece of human mind, 
Wisely asserting to my sense 

The people’s gain of residence. 

No sorer plague can us attack, 

Than rich to be, and something lack ! # 
The chiming bell, the lindens’ breath, 
Oppress like air in vaults of death: 
My force of will, my potence grand, 
Is shattered here upon the sand. 

How shall I ban it from my feeling ! 

I rave whene’er the bell is pealing. 


MEPHISTOPHELES, 
’T is natural that so great a spite 
Thy life should thus imbitter quite. 
Who doubts it? Every noble ear, 
Disgusted, must the jangle hear; 
And that accurséd bim-bam-booming, 


Through the clear sky of evening glooming, 
Is mixed with each event that passes, 


From baby’s bath to burial-masses, 
As if, between its dam and dine, 
Life were a dream, in memory dim. 


FAUST. 
Their obstinate, opposing strain 
Darkens the brightest solid gain, 
Till one, in plague and worry thrust 
Grows tired, at last, of being just. 


ACT V. 281 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Why be annoyed, when thou canst well despise them ? 
Wouldst thou not long since colonize them ? 


FAUST. 


Then go, and clear them out with speed ! 
Thou knowest the fair estate, indeed, 
I chose for the old people’s need. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


We 'll set them down on other land; 
Ere you can look, again they "ll stand: 
When they ’ve the violence outgrown, 
Their pleasant dwelling shall atone. 


(He whistles shrilly.) 
THE THREE enter. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Come, as the Master bids, and let 
The fleet a feast to-morrow get! 


THE THREE. 


Reception bad the old Master gave: 
A jolly feast is what we crave. 


MEPHISTOPHELES 
(ad spectatores). 


It happens as it happed of old: 
Still Naboth’s vineyard we behold ! 


282 FAUST. 


IV. 


DEAD OF NIGHT. 


LYNCEUS, THE WARDER 
(singing on the watch-tower of the Palace). 
OR seeing intended, 
Employed for my sight, 
The tower ’s my dwelling, 
The world my delight. 
I gaze on the Distant, 
I look.on the Near, — 
The moon and the planets, 
The forest and deer. 
So see I in all things 
The grace without end, 
And even as they please me, 
Myself I commend. 
Thou fortunate Vision, 
Of all thou wast ’ware, 
Whatever it might be, 
Yet still it was fair! 
Pause. 


Not alone that I delight me, 

Have I here been stationed so :— 
What a horror comes, to fright me, 
From the darksome world below ! 
Sparks of fire I see outgushing 
Through the night of linden-trees ; 


Stronger yet the glow is flushing, 








ACT V. 283 


Fanned to fury by the breeze. 
Ah! the cabin burns, unheeded, 
Damp and mossy though it stand: 
Quick assistance here is needed, 
And no rescue is at hand! 
Ah, the good old father, mother, 
Else so careful of the fire, 
Doomed amid the smoke to smother !— 
The catastrophe how dire! 
Now the blackening pile stands lonely 
In the flames that redly swell : 
If the good old folk be only 
Rescued from the burning hell! 
Dazzling tongues the crater launches 
Through the leaves and through the branches; 
Withered boughs, at last ignited, 
Break, in burning, from the tree : 
Why must I be thus far-sighted ? 
Witness such calamity ? 
Now the little chapel crashes 
*Neath a branch’s falling blow ; 
Soon the climbing, spiry flashes 
Set the tree-tops in a glow. 
Down to where the trunks are planted 
Burn they like a crimson dawn. 

Long pause. Chant. 
What erewhile the eye enchanted 
With the centuries is gone. 


#AUST 
(on the balcony, towards the downs). 
Above, what whining lamentation ? 
The word, the tone, too late I heed. 
My warder wails: | feel vexation 


284 


FAUST. 


At heart, for this impatient deed. 

Yet be the lindens extirpated, 

Till half-charred trunks the spot deface, 
A look-in-the-land is soon created, 
Whence I can view the boundless space. 
Thence shall I see the newer dwelling 
Which for the ancient pair I raise, 

Who, my benign forbearance feeling, 
Shall there enjoy their latter days. 


MEPHISTOPHELES AND THE THREE (de/ow). 


We hither come upon the run! 
Forgive! not happily ’t was done. 

We knocked and beat, but none replied, 
And entrance ever was denied ; 

Of jolts and blows we gave good store, 
And broken lay the rotten door ; 

We called aloud, with direst threat, 

But still no hearing could we get. 

And, as it haps, with such a deed, 

They would not hear, they would not heed ; 
But we began, without delay, 

To drive the stubborn folks away. 

The pair had then an easy lot: 

They fell, and died upon the spot. 

A stranger, who was there concealed, 
And fought, was left upon the field; 
But in the combat, fierce and fast, 
From coals, that round about were cast, 
The straw took fire. Now merrily 

One funeral pile consumes the three. 


FAUST, 
Deaf unto my commands were ye! 


ACT V. 285 


Exchange I meant, not robbery. 
The inconsiderate, savage blow 
I curse! Bear ye the guilt, and go! 


CHORUS. 


The proverb old still runs its course : 
Bend willingly to greater force ! 
If you are bold, and face the strife, 
Stake house and home, and then — your life! 
[Zxeunt. 
FAUST (on the balcony). 


The stars conceal their glance and giow, 
The fire sinks down, and flickers low ; 
A damp wind fans it with its wings, 
And smoke and vapor hither brings. 
Quick bidden, and too quick obeyed ! — 
What hovers hither like a shade ? 


286 FAUST. 


V. 
MIDNIGHT.™ 
Four Gray Women enter. 
FIRST. 
M Y name, it is Want. 
SECOND. 
And mine, it is Guilt. 
THIRD. 
And mine, it is Care. 
FOURTH. 
Necessity, mine." 


THREE TOGETHER. 
The portal is bolted, we cannot get in: . 
The owner is rich, we ’ve no business within. 


WANT. 
I shrink to a shadow. 


GUILT. 
I shrink unto naught. 


NECESSITY. 
The pampered from me turn the face and the thought. 





ACT V. 287 


CARE. 
Ye Sisters, ye neither can enter, nor dare; 
But the keyhole is free to the entrance of Care. 
(CARE aisappears.) 


WANT. 
Ye, grisly old Sisters, be banished from here! 


GUILT. 
Beside thee, and bound to thee, I shall appear! 


NECESSITY. 
-At your heels goes Necessity, blight in her breath. 


THE THREE. 


The clouds are in motion, and cover each star! 

Behind there, behind! from afar, from afar, 

He cometh, our Brother! he comes, he is — — — 
— — — Death! 


FAUST (i the Palace). | 


Four saw I come, but those that went were three ; 

The sense of what they said was hid from me, 

But something like “ Vecessity” I heard ; 

Thereafter, “ Death,” a gloomy, threatening word ! 

It sounded hollow, spectrally subdued : 

Not yet have I my liberty made good: 

If I could banish Magic’s fell creations, 

And totally unlearn the incantations, — 

Stood I, O Nature! Man alone in thee, | 
Then were it worth one’s while a man to be! ™s | 
Ere in the Obscure I sought it, such was I, — 

Ere I had cursed the world so wickedly. 





288. FA CST. 


Now fills the air so many 2 haunting shape, 

That no one knows how best he may escape. 

What though One Day with rational brightness beams, 
The Night entangles us in webs of dreams. 

From our young fields of life we come, elate: 

There croaks a bird: what croaks he? Evil fate! 

By Superstition constantly insnared, 

It grows to us, and warns, and is declared. 

Intimidated thus, we stand alone. — 

The portal jars, yet entrance is there none. 


(Agitated. 
Is any one here? 
CARE. 
Yes! must be my reply. 


FAUST. 
And thou, who art thou, then ? 
CARE. 
Well, — here am I. 
FAUST. 
Avaunt! 
CARE. 


I am where I should be. 


FAUST 
(jirst angry, then composed, addressing himself). 
Take care, and speak no word of sorcery! 


CARE. 


Though no ear should choose to hear me, 
Yet the shrinking heart must fear me: 





ACT V. 289 


Though transformed to mortal eyes, 

Grimmest power I exercise. 

On the land, or ocean yonder, 

I, a dread companion, wander, 

Always found, yet never sought, 

Praised or cursed, as I have wrought! 
Hast chou not Care already known ? 


FAUST. 


I only through the world have flown : 

Each appetite I seized as by the hair; 

What not sufficed me, forth I let it fare, 

And what escaped me, I let go. 

[ ’ve only craved, accomplished my delight, 

Then wished a second time, and thus with might 
Stormed through my life: at first ’t was grand, completely, 
But now it moves most wisely and discreetly. 
The sphere of Earth is known enough to me ; 

The view beyond is barred immutably : 

A fool, who there his blinking eyes directeth, 

And o’er his clouds of peers a place expecteth ! 

Firm let him stand, and look around him well! 

This World means something to the Capable. 

Why needs he through Eternity to wend ? 

He here acquires what he can apprehend. 

Thus let him wander down his earthly day; 

When spirits haunt, go quietly his way ; 

In marching onwards, bliss and torment find, 

Though, every moment, with unsated mind ! 


CARE. 


Whom I once possess, shall never 
Find the world worth his endeavor: 
Endless gloom around him folding, 
Rise nor set of sun beholding, 

VOL. II. 13 S 


290 


FA OST. 


Perfect in external senses, 
Inwardly his darkness dense is ; 
And he knows not how to measure 
True possession of his treasure. 
Luck and II] become caprices ; 
Still he starves in all increases ; 
Be it happiness or sorrow, 

He postpones it till the morrow; 
To the Future only cleaveth: 
Nothing, therefore, he achieveth. 


FAUST. 


Desist! So shalt thou not get hold of me! 
I have no mind to hear such drivel. 
Depart! Thy gloomy litany 

Might even befool the wisest man to evil. 


CARE. 


Shall he go, or come ?— how guide him? 
Prompt decision is denied him; 

Midway on the trodden highway 
Halting, he attempts a by-way ; 

Ever more astray, bemisted, 

Everything beholding twisted, 
Burdening himself and others, 

Taking breath, he chokes and smothers, 
Though not choked, in Life not sharing, 
Not resigned, and not despairing ! 

Such incessant rolling, spinning, — 
Painful quitting, hard beginning, — 
Now constraint, now liberation, — 
Semi-sleep, poor recreation, 

Firmly in his place insnare him 

And, at last, for Hell prepare him! 





ACT V. 20% 


FAUST. 


IlLomened spectres! By your treatment strays 
A thousand times the human race to error: 

Ye even transform the dull, indifferent days 

To vile confusion of entangling terror. 

*T is hard, I know, from Dzmons to escape; 

The spirit’s bond breaks not, howe’er one tries it; 
And yet, O Care, thy power, thy creeping shape, 
Think not that I shall recognize it! 


CARE. 


So feel it now: my curse thou ’It find, 

When forth from thee I ’ve swiftly passed ! 
Throughout their whole existence men are blind; 
So, Faust, be thou like them at last! 


(She breathes in his face.) 


FAUST (blinded ). 
The Night seems deeper now to press around me, 
But in my inmost spirit all is light ; "6 
I rest not till the finished work hath crowned me: 
The master’s Word alone bestows the might. 
Up from your couches, vassals, man by man! 
Make grandly visible my daring plan! 
Seize now your tools, with spade and shovel press ! 
The work traced out must be a swift success. 
Quick diligence, severest ordering 
The most superb reward shall bring ; 
And, that the mighty work completed stands, 
One mind suffices for a thousand hands. 





292 FAOST. 


VI. 


GREAT OUTER COURT OF THE PALACE 


Torches. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (i advance, as Overseer). 


OME here, come here! Come on, come on! 
Ye Lemures, loose-hung creatures ! 
Of sinew, ligament, and bone 
Your knitted semi-natures ! 


LEMURES (i Chorus). 
Without delay are we at hand, 
And half ’t is our impression 
That this concerns a spacious land, 
Whereof we ’ll have possession. 
The pointed stakes, we bring them all, 
The measuring-chain, for distance ; 
But we ’ve forgotten why the call 
Was made for our assistance. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Here is no need of your artistic zeal : 

Proceed as you may think it best! 

Your tallest lay full length, from head to heel, 
And lift the turf around him, all the rest! 

As for our fathers made, prepare 

To excavate a lengthened square! 

From palace to the narrow house transferred, 
Such is, at last, the issue most absurd. 











ACT V. : 293 
LEMURES *© 
(digging with mocking gestures). 
In youth when I did love, did love, 
Methought it was very sweet; 
When ’t was jolly and merry every way, 
And I blithely moved my feet. 


But now old Age, with his stealing steps, 
Hath clawed me with his crutch: 

I stumbled over the door of a grave ; 
Why leave they open such? 


FAUST 
(comes forth from the Palace, groping his way along the door- 
posts). 
How I rejoice, to hear the clattering spade ! 
It is the crowd, for me in service moiling, 
Till Earth be reconciled to toiling, 
Till the proud waves be stayed, 
And the sea girded with a rigid zone. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (aside). 


And yet, thou ’rt laboring for us alone, 
With all thy dikes and bulwarks daring; 
Since thou for Neptune art preparing — 
The Ocean-Devil — carousal great. 

In every way shall ye be stranded ; 

The elements with us are banded, 

And ruin is the certain fate. 


FAUST. 
Overseer! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Here! 


294 ‘ FA OST. 


FAUST. 
However possible, 
Collect a crowd of men with vigor, 
Spur by indulgence, praise, or rigor, — 
Reward, allure, conscript, compel ! 
Each day report me, and correctly note 
How grows in length the undertaken moat. 


MEPHISTOPHELES (half aloud ). 


When they to me the information gave, 
They spake not of a moat, but of —a@ grave.™ 


FAUST. 


Below the hills a marshy plain 

Infects what I so long have been retrieving ; 
This stagnant pool likewise to drain 

Were now my latest and my best achieving. 

To many millions let me furnish soil, 

Though not secure, yet free to active toil ; 

Green, fertile fields, where men and herds go forth 
At once, with comfort, on the newest Earth, 

And swiftly settled on the hill’s firm base, 
Created by the bold, industrious race. 

A land like Paradise here, round about : 

Up to the brink the tide may roar without, 

And though it gnaw, to burst with force the limit, 
By common impulse all unite to hem it. 

Yes! to this thought I hold with firm persistence ; 
The last result of wisdom stamps it true: 

He only earns his freedom and existence, 

Who daily conquers them anew.'® 

Thus here, by dangers girt, shall glide away 

Of childhood, manhood, age, the vigorous day: 
And such a throng I fain would see, — 

Stand on free soil among a people free ! 








ACT V. 295 


Then dared I hail the Moment fleeing: 
“ Ah, still delay — thou art so fair /” 
The traces cannot, of mine earthly being, 
In zons perish, — they are there ! — 
In proud fore-feeling of such lofty bliss, 
I now enjoy the highest Moment, — this ! 
|Faust sinks back: the LEMURES take him and lay him upon 
the ground.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
No joy could sate him, and suffice no bliss! 
To catch but shifting shapes was his endeavor: 
The latest, poorest, emptiest Moment — this, — 
He wished to hold it fast forever. 
Me he resisted in such vigorous wise, 
But Time is lord, on earth the old man lies.*® 
The clock stands still — 


CHORUS. 
Stands still! silent as midnight, now! 
The index falls. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
It falls ; and it is finished, here! 


CHORUS. 

"T is past! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

— Past! a stupid word. 

If past, then why ? 
Past and pure Naught, complete monotony ! 
What good for us, this endlessly creating ? — 
What is created then annihilating? 
“‘ And now it’s past!” Why read a page so twisted? 
’T is just the same as if it ne’er existed, 


FAUST. 


Yet goes in circles round as if it had, however: 
I ’d rather choose, instead, the Void forever. 


SEPULTURE.'7 


LEMUR. Solo. 


Who then hath built the house so ill, 
With shovel and with spade ? 


LEMURES. Chorus. 


For thee, dull guest, in hempen vest, 
It all too well was made. 


LEMUR. Solo. 


Who then so ill hath decked the hall ? 
No chairs, nor table any ! 


LEMURES. Chorus. 


*T was borrowed to return at call: 
The creditors are so many. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


The Body lies, and if the Spirit flee, 

I ll show it speedily my blood-signed title. — 
But, ah! they ’ve found such methods of requital, 
His souls the Devil must oft abstracted see ! 

One now offends, the ancient way ; 

Upon the new we ’re not yet recommended : 
Once, I alone secured my prey, 

But now by helpers need to be befriended. 

In all things we must feel the spite ! 

Transmitted custom, ancient right, — 

Nothing, indeed, can longer one confide in. 

Once with the last breath left the soul her house ; 
I kept good watch, and like the nimblest mouse, 





ACT V. 297- 


Whack! was she caught, and fast my claws her hide in! 

Now she delays, and is not fain to quit 

The dismal place, the corpse’s hideous mansion ; 

The elements, in hostile, fierce expansion, 

Drive her, at last, disgracefully from it. 

And though I fret and worry till I ’m weary, 

When? How? and Where? remains the fatal query : 

Old Death is now no longer swift and strong ; 

Even the Whether has been doubtful long. 

Oft I beheld with lust the rigid members : 

*T was only sham; Life kindled from its embers. 
(Fantastic, whirling gestures of conjuration.) 

Come on! Strike up the double quick, anew, 

With straight or crooked horns, ye gentlemen infernal ! 

Of the old Devil-grit and kernel, 

And bring at once the Jaws of Hell with you ! 

Hell hath a multitude of jaws, in short,'7* 

To use as suiteth place and dignity ; 

But we, however, in this final sport, 

Will henceforth less considerate be. 


( Zhe fearful Faws of Hell open, on the left.) 
The side-tusks yawn: then from the throat abysmal 
The raging, fiery torrents flow, 
And in the vapors of the background dismal 
I see the city flame in endless glow. 
Up to the teeth the breakers lash the red arena ; 
The Damned, in hope of help, are swimming through; 
But, caught and mangled by the fell hyena, 
Their path of fiery torment they renew. 
In every nook new horrors flash and brighten, 
In narrow space so much of dread supreme! 
Well have you done, the sinners thus to frighten ; 
But still they ‘ll think it lie, and cheat, and dream! 


(Zo the stout Devils. with short, straight horns.) 
13* 


298 FAUST. 


Now, paunchy scamps, with cheeks so redly burning ! 
Ye glow, so fat with hellish sulphur fed ; 

With necks thick-set and stumpy, never turning, — 
Watch here below, if phosphor-light be shed : 

It is the Soul, the wingéd Psyche is it; 

Pluck off the wings, ’t is but a hideous worm : '# 
First with my stamp and seal the thing I ’ll visit, 
Then fling it to the whirling, fiery storm ! 

The lower parts be well inspected, 

Ye Bloats! perform your duty well: 

If there the Soul her seat selected 

We cannot yet exactly tell. 

Oft in the navel doth she stay: 

Look out for that, she thence may slip away ! 


( Zo the lean Devils, with long, crooked horas.) 


Ye lean buffoons, file-leaders strange and giant, 
Grasp in the air, yourselves no respite give ! 
Strong in the arms, with talons sharp and pliant, 
That ye may seize the fluttering fugitive ! 

In her old home discomforted she lies, 

And Genius, surely, seeks at once to rise.'73 


(Glory from above, on the right.) 


THE HEAVENLY HOST. 


Envoys, unhindered, 
Heavenly kindred, 
Follow us here! 
Sinners forgiving, 
Dust to make living! 
Lovingest features 
Unto all creatures 

- Show in your swaying, 
Delaying career ! 





ACT V. 299 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
Discords I hear, a harsh, disgusting strumming, 
Flung from above with the unwelcome Day; 
T is that emasculate and bungled humming 
Which Pious Cant delights in, every way. 
You know how we, atrociously contented, 
Destruction for the human race have planned : 
But the most infamous that we ’ve invented 
Is just the thing their prayers demand.'74 
The fops, they come as hypocrites, to fool us! 
Thus many have they snatched, before our eyes: 
With our own weapons they would overrule us ; 
They ’re also Devils — in disguise. 
To lose this case would be your lasting shame; 
On to the grave, and fortify your claim ! 


CHORUS OF ANGELS (scattering roses).*75 
Roses, ye glowing ones, 
Balsam-bestowing ones ! 
Fluttering, quivering, 
Sweetness delivering, 
Branching unblightedly, 
Budding delightedly, 
Bloom and be seen! 
Springtime declare him, 
In purple and green! 
Paradise bear him, 

The Sleeper serene! 


MEPHISTOPHELES (fo the Satans). 
Why do ye jerk and squat? Is this Hell’s rule? 
Stand to your ground, and let them sprinkle ! 
Back to his place each gawky fool ! 
They think, perhaps, with such a flowery crinkle, 


300 FAUST. 


As if ’t were snow, the Devils’ heat to cool: 
Your breath shall make it melt, and shrink, and wrinkle. 
Now blow, ye Blowers !— ’T is enough, enough ! 
Before your breath fades all the floating stuff. 
Not so much violence, — shut jaws and noses! 
Forsooth, ye blow too strongly at the roses. 

The proper measure can you never learn? 

They sting not only, but they wither, burn ! 
They hover on with flames of deadly lustre: 
Resist them ye, and close together cluster ! — 
Your force gives out; all courage fails you so: 
The Devils scent-the strange, alluring glow. 


ANGELS.'% 
Blossoms of gratitude, 
Flames of beatitude, 
Love they are bearing now, 
Rapture preparing now, 
As the heart may ! 
Truth in its nearness, 
Ether in clearness, 
Give the Eternal Hosts 
Everywhere Day! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 
O curse and shame upon such dolts be sped ! 
Each Satan stands upon his head! 
In somersaults the stout ones whirl and swerve, 
And into Hell plunge bottom-uppermost. 
Now may your bath be hot as you deserve! 
But I remain, unflinching, at my post. 


(Beating off the hovering roses.) 


Off, will-o’-the-wisps! Bright as ye seem to be, 
When caught, the vilest clinging filth are ye. 





ACT V. 301 


Why flutter thus? Off with you, quick !— 
Like pitch and sulphur on my neck they stick. 


CHORUS OF ANGELS.'77 


What not appertaineth 

To you, cease to share it! 
What inwardly paineth, 
Refuse ye to bear it! 

If it press in with might, 
Use we our stronger right: 
Love but the Loving 
Leads to the Light! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 


My head, heart, liver, by the flames are rent! 

An over-devilish element ! — 

Sharper than Hell’s red conflagration ! 

Thence so enormous is your lamentation, 
Unfortunate Enamored! who, so spurned, 

Your heads towards the sweethearts’ side have turned. 
Mine, too! What twists my head in like position? 
With them am I not sworn to competition ? 

The sight of them once made my hatred worse. 
Hath then an alien force transpierced my nature? 
I like to see them, youths of loveliest stature ; 
What now restrains me, that I dare not curse ? 7 — 
And if I take their cozening bait so, 

Who else, henceforth, the veriest fool will be? 

The stunning fellows, whom I hate so, 

How very charming they appear to me! — 

Tell me, sweet children, ere I miss you, 

Are ye not of the race of Lucifer? 

You are so fair, forsooth, I'd like to kiss you; 

It seems to me as if ye welcome were. 

I feel as comfortable and as trustful, 


302 FAUST. 


As though a thousand times ere this we ’d met! 
So surreptitiously catlike-lustful : 

With every glance ye ’re fairer, fairer yet. 

O, nearer come, — O, grant me one sweet look! 


ANGELS. 


We come! Why shrink? Canst not our presence 
brook ? 
Now we approach : so, if thou canst, remain ! 


(Zhe ANGELS, coming forward, occupy the whole space.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES 

(who is crowded into the proscenium). 
Us, Spirits damned, you brand with censure, 
Yet you are wizards by indenture ; 
For man and woman, luring, you enchain. — 
What chance the curst adventure brings me? 
Is this Love’s chosen element? 
The fire o’er all my body stings me; 
My neck I scarcely feel, so hotly sprent. — 
Ye hover back and forth; sink down and settle! 
Move your sweet limbs with more of worldly mettle! 
The serious air befits you well, awhile, 
But I should like, just once, to see you smile; 
That were, for me, an everlasting rapture. 
I mean, as lovers look, the heart to capture ; 
About the mouth a simper there must be. 
Thee, tall one, as enticing I ’l] admit thee; 
The priestly mien does not at al] befit thee, 
So look at me the least bit wantonly ! 
You might be nakeder, and modest made so: 
Your shirts’ long drapery is over-moral. — 
They turh !— and, from the rear surveyed so, 
With their attraction there ’s no need to quarrel! 





ACT V. 303 


CHORUS OF ANGELS.!75 
Love still revealing, 
Flames, become clearer! 
All, cursed with error, 
Truth be their healing ! 
Glad self-retrieval 
Free them from Evil, 

In the all-folding Breast, 
Blessed, to rest! 


MEPHISTOPHELES (collecting himself). 
How is ’t with me ?— Like Job, the boils have cleft me 
From head to foot, so that myself I shun ; 
Yet triumph also, when my self-inspection ’s done, — 
When self and tribe I have confided in. 
The noble Devil-parts, at least, are left me! 
This love-attack ’s a rash upon the skin. 
Burned out already are the scurvy fires, 
And one and all I damn you, as the case requires ! 


CHORUS OF ANGELS. 
Hallowed glories ! 
Round whom they brood, 
Wakes unto being 
Of bliss with the Good. 
Join ye, the Glorified, 
Rise to your goal! 
Airs are all purified, — 
Breathe now the Soul! 
( They rise, bearing away the immortal part of FAUST.) 


MEPHISTOPHELES (looking around him). 


But how ?— at once I find them failing ! 
This race of minors takes me by surprise ! 


304 FAUST. 


They with their booty heavenwards are sailing ; 
Thence on this grave they cast their greedy eyes! 
My rare, great treasure they have peculated: 
The lofty soul, to me hypothecated, 

They ’ve rapt away from me in cunning wise. 
But unto whom shall I appeal for justice ? 

Who would secure to me my well-earned right? 
Tricked so in one’s old days, a great disgust is ; 
And I deserve it, this infernal spite. 

I ’ve managed in a most disgraceful fashion ; 

A great investment has been thrown away: 

By lowest lust seduced, and senseless passion, 
The old, case-hardened Devil went astray.’ 
And if, from all this childish-silly stuff 

His shrewd experience could not wrest him, 

So is, forsooth, the folly quite enough, 

Which, in conclusion, hath possessed him. 





ACT V. 305 


VII. 


MOUNTAIN-GORGES, FOREST, ROCK, 
DESERT. 


Hoty ANCHORITES,™® 
Divided in ascending planes, posted among the ravines, 


CHORUS AND ECHO. 


ORESTS are waving grand, 
Rocks, they are huge at hand, 

Clutching, the roots expand, 
Thickly the tree-trunks stand; 
Foaming comes wave on wave; 
Shelter hath deepest cave ; 
Lions are prowling dumb, 
Friendly where’er we come, 
Honoring the sacred place, 
Refuge of Love and Grace! 


PATER ECSTATICUS ™ 


(Aovering up and down). 
Endless ecstatic fire, 
Glow of the pure desire, 
Pain of the pining breast, 
Rapture of God possessed ! 
Arrows, transpierce ye me, 
Lances, coerce ye me, 
Bludgeons, so batter me, 
Lightnings, so shatter me, 


306 


FA OST. 


That all of mortality’s 
Vain unrealities 

Die, and the Star above 
Beam but Eternal Love! 


PATER PROFUNDUS."3 
(Lower Region.) 

As at my feet abysses cloven 
Rest on abysses deep below; 
As thousand severed streams are woven 
To foamy floods that plunging go; 
As, up by self-impulsion driven, 
The tree its weight sustains in air, 
To Love, almighty Love, ’t is given 
All things to form, and all to bear. 
Around me sounds a savage roaring, 
As rocks and forests heaved and swayed, 
Yet plunges, bounteous in its pouring, 
The wealth of waters down the glade, 
Appointed, then, the vales to brighten ; 
The bolt, that flaming struck and burst, 
The atmosphere tp cleanse and lighten, 
Which pestilence in its bosom nursed, — 
Love’s heralds both, the powers proclaiming, 
Which, aye creative, us infold. 
May they, within my bosom flaming, 
Inspire the mind, confused and cold, 
Which frets itself, through blunted senses, 
As by the sharpest fetter-smart ! 
O God, soothe Thou my thoughts bewildered, 
Enlighten Thou my needy heart ! 


PATER SERAPHICUS,™ 
(Middle Region.) 
What a cloud of morning hovers 





ACT VP. 307 


O’er the pine-trees’ tossing hair ! 
Can I guess what life it covers ? 
They are spirits, young and fair. 


CHORUS OF BLESSED BOYS."5 


Tell us, Father, where we wander ; 
Tell us, Kind One, who are we. 
Happy are we; for so tender 

Unto all, it is, To Be. 


PATER SERAPHICUS. 

Boys, brought forth in midnights haunted, 
Half-unsealed the sense and brain, 
For the parents lost when granted, 
For the angels sweetest gain ! 
That a loving heart is nigh you 
You can feel: then come to me! 
But of earthly ways that try you, 
Blest ones ! not a trace have ye. 
Enter in mine eyes: enjoy them, 
Organs for the earthly sphere ! 
As your own ye may employ them : 
Look upon the landscape here! 

(He takes them into himself.) ™ 


Those are trees, there rocks defend us: 
Here, a stream that leaps below, 

And with plunges, wild, tremendous, 
Shorteneth its journey so. 


BLESSED BOYS (from within him). 
To a vision grand we waken, 
But the scenes too gloomy show ; 
We with fear and dread are shaken : 
Kindest Father, let us go! 


308 FAUST. 


PATER SERAPHICUS. 


Upward rise to higher borders ! 
Ever grow, insensibly, 

As, by pure, eternal orders, 

God’s high Presence strengthens ye! 
Such the Spirits’ sustentation, 

With the freest ether blending ; 
Love’s eternal Revelation, 

To Beatitude ascending. 


CHORUS OF BLESSED BOYS 
(circling around the highest sumemest). 

Hands now enring ye, 
Joyously wheeling ! 
Soar ye and sing ye, 
With holiest feeling ! 
The Teacher before ye, 
Trust, and be bold! 
Whom ye adore, ye 
Him shall behold. 


ANGELS 
(soaring tn the higher atmosphere, bearing the immortal part of 

Faust). 

The noble Spirit now is free, 

And saved from evil scheming : 

Whoe’er aspires unweariedly 

Is not beyond redeeming.” 

And if he feels the grace of Love 

. That from On High is given, 
The Blessed Hosts, that wait above, 
Shall welcome him to Heaven ! 


THE YOUNGER ANGELS. 
They, the roses, freely spended 








ACT F. 309 


By the penstent, the zlorious, 

Helped to make the fight victorious, 
And the lofty work is ended. 

We this precious Soul have won us; 
Evil ones we forced to shun us ; 
Deviis fled us, when we hit them: 
*Stead of pangs of Heli, that bit them, 
Love-pangs felt they, sharper, vaster : 
Even he, old Satan- Master, 

Pierced with keenest pain, retreated. 
Now rejoice! The work ’s completed! 


THE MORE PERFECT ANGELS. 
Earth’s residue to bear 
Hath sorely pressed us ; 
It were not pure and fair, 
Though ’t were asbestus. 
When every element 
The mind’s high forces 
Have seized, subdued, and blent, 
No Angel divorces 
Twin-natures single grown, 
That inly mate them: 
Eternal Love, alone, 
Can separate them.'® 


THE YOUNGER ANGELS. 
Mist-like on heights above, 
We now are seeing 
Nearer and nearer move 
Spiritual Being. 

The clouds are growing clear ; 
And moving throngs appear 
Of Blessed Boys, 

Free from the earthly gloom, 


310 FAUST. 


In circling poise, 

Who taste the cheer 

Of the new spring-time bloom 
Of the upper sphere. 

Let them inaugurate 

Him to the perfect state, 
Now, as their peer ! 


THE BLESSED BOYS. 


Gladly receive we now . 

Him, as a chrysalis : 
Therefore achieve we now 
Pledge of our bliss. 

The earth-flakes dissipate 
That cling around him! 

See, he is fair and great! 
Divine Life hath crowned him. 


DOCTOR MARIANUS ‘9 
(in the highest, purest cell). 
Free is the view at last, 
The spirit lifted : 
There women, floating past, 
Are upward drifted : 
The Glorious One therein, 
With star-crown tender, — 
The pure, the Heavenly Queen, 
I know her splendor. 
(Enraptured.) 


Highest Mistress of the World! 
Let me in the azure 

Tent of Heaven, in light unfurled, 
Here thy Mystery measure! 
Justify sweet thoughts that move 
Breast of man to meet thee, 








ACT V. 311 


And with holy bliss of love 
Bear him up to greet thee ! 
With unconquered courage we 
Do thy bidding highest ; 
But at once shall gentle be, 
When thou pacifiest. 
Virgin, pure in brightest sheen, 
Mother sweet, supernal, — 
Unto us Elected Queen, 
Peer of Gods Eternal ! 
Light clouds are circling 
Around her splendor, — 
Penitent women 
Of natures tender, 
Her knees embracing, 
Ether respiring, 
Mercy requiring ! 
Thou, in immaculate ray, 
Mercy not leavest, 
And the lightly led astray, 
Who trust thee, receivest ! 
Jn their weakness fallen at :ength, 
Hard it is to save them : 
Who can crush, by native strength, 
Vices that enslave them? 
Whose the foot that may not slip 
On the surface slanting? 
Whom befool not eye and lip, 
Breath and voice enchanting ? 


(Zhe MATER GLORIOSA soars into the space.) ** 


CHORUS OF WOMEN PENITENTS. 
To heights thou ‘rt speeding 
Of endless Eden : 

Receive our pleading, 


312 FAUST. 


Transcendent Maiden, 
With Mercy laden! 


MAGNA PECCATRIX.'* (St. Luke, vii. 36.) 


By the love before him kneeling, — 
Him, Thy Son, a godlike vision ; 

By the tears like balsam stealing, 
Spite of Pharisees’ derision ; 

By the box, whose ointment precious 
Shed its spice and odors cheery ; 

By the locks, whose softest meshes 
Dried the holy feet and weary ! — 


MULIER SAMARITANA. (St. John, iv.) 


By that well, the ancient station 
Whither Abram’s flocks were driven; 
By the jar, whose restoration 

To the Saviour’s lips was given; 

By the fountain, pure and vernal, 
Thence its present bounty spending, — 
Overflowing, bright, eternal, 

Watering the worlds unending ! — 


MARIA ZGYPTIACA. (Acta Sanctorum.) 
By the place, where the Immortal 
Body of the Lord hath lain ; 

By the arm, which, from the portal, 
Warning, thrust me back again ; 
By the forty years’ repentance 

In the lonely desert-land ; 

By the blissful farewell sentence 
Which I wrote upon the sand ! — 


THE THREE. 
Thou Thy presence not deniest 





ACT V. 313 


Unto sinful women ever, — 

Liftest them to win the highest 

Gain of penitent endeavor, — 

So, from this good soul withdraw not — 
Who but once forgot, transgressing, 
Who her loving error saw not — 
Pardon adequate, and blessing ! 


UNA PCENITENTIUM '* 
(formerly named Margaret, stealing closer). 
Incline, O Maiden, 
With Mercy laden, 
In light unfading, 
Thy gracious countenance upon my bliss! 
My loved, my lover, 
His trials over 
In yonder world, returns to me in this! 


BLESSED BOYS 
(approaching in hovering circles). 
With mighty limbs he towers 
Already above us ; 
He, for this love of ours, 
Will richlier love us. 
Early were we removed, 
Ere Life could reach us; 
Yet he hath learned and proved, 
And he will teach us. 


THE PENITENT 
(formerly named Margaret). 
The spirit-choir around him seeing, 
New to himself, he scarce divines 
His heritage of new-born Being, 
When like the Holy Host he shines. 
VOL. IL 14 


314 FAUST. 


Behold, how he each band hath cloven, 
The earthly life had round him thrown, 
And through his garb, of ether woven, 
The early force of youth is shown ! 
Vouchsafe to me that I instruct him ! 
Still dazzles him the Day’s new glare. 


MATER GLORIOSA. 


Rise, thou, to higher spheres! Conduct him, 
Wha, feeling thee, shall follow there ! #% 


DOCTOR MARIANUS 
( prostrate, adoring). 

Penitents, look up, elate, 
Where she beams salvation; 
Gratefully to blessed fate 
Grow, in re-creation ! 
Be our souls, as they have been, 
Dedicate to Thee! 
Virgin Holy, Mother, Queen, 
Goddess, gracious be! 


CHORUS MYSTICUS.™ 
All things transitory 
But as symbols are sent: 
Earth’s insufficiency 
Here grows to Event: 
The Indescribable, 
Here it is done: 
The Woman-Soul leadeth us 
Upward and on! 


¥