Messrs. GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SON^ believe that Ihere j is in England a very large public demand for good ,books. P^ey j believe it to 6e larg^;"' enough to justify the productioxr^.pf a unfl^m I series of very cheap volumes, advancing, in course of time, to^Nlrds j the reahzation^of a Univer-sal L"ibrary |hat shall contain fi)/ the i best and most significant books in the world, of aff times outMe the I time of Copyright,- and of all countries, so fac^ such boo^lcan be j found written in or rendered into: English* \ 'The Publisb^Kf wish to produce the best books at the cheapest &|.£e-^that is to'Wl^, in bound lid well-printed volumes of 320 pages for a Shy^jJ^. The Editor horn they have looked for aid in working out their purpose shares ith in the demand for easiest access to all forms of the world's d all forms of opinion that have helped to shape the lives ^a agrees therefore to be responsible for the selection of Nd in this way, and he will issue each of them with a n, giving son le account of its writer and some indica- " .erature.

ese volumes, as first published, there will be

that aims at variety. As they multiply

admit of any classification that most

^ will be in them the best Plays and

*he best books of Travel, Histories,

^cteristic in the speculations of

"^^ books of most mark in the

^nse of his relation towards

'^^me, from Confucius to

\to head the Greeks,

\j so forth. The

Xitor, if English

3 1153 DOlbSmO 7 ^compass of

BOOK 822.3.M34aF c. 1 MARLOWE # MARLOWES FAUSTUS

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SALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO., EDINBURGH CHANDOS STREET, LONDON

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MARLOWE'S FaUSTUS f(^

GoETHE's Faust

from tbc 6erman

BY

JOHN ANSTER, LL.D.

JV/TH AN INTRODUCTION BY HENRY MORLEY

LL.D., PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE AT UNIVERSITY COJ.LEGE, LONDON

LONDON GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS

BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL NEW YORK: 9 LAFAYETTE PLACE

,< -7

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CONTENTS.

Faustus Faust .

PAGE

9 71

INTRODUCTION.

In the autumn of 1587, at the Fair of Frankfort-on-the-Main, then the headquarters of the German book trade, a bookseller named Johann Spies produced the first History of Johann Faust, the far-famed Magician and Black-Artist. It was entitled Historia vofi D. Joha7i7i Faustcn, de7n weit heschreyteji Zanberer und SchwartzkUnstler. The o;ily complete copy of it now known is in the Imperial Library at Vienna. The unknown writer of this book seems to have been a clergyman of the Reformed Church, who caught the attention of the people by stringing together incidents of magic associated with the fabulous career of a man who bad died some fifty years before, and whose name and fame survived him. The writer's desire was to warn against presumptuous sins ; to attack, through Faust, the pride of intellect that sets God at defiance, and through stories of Faust's magic to pour, now and then, Protestant scorn upon tlie Pope.

The original Faustus traded upon superstition in the Reformation time. The date assigned to his death, 1538, was eight years before that of Luther. The earliest known mention of him — if it be of him — is by a liberal scholar of high reputation, Johann Trittenheim (Trithemius) Abbot of Spanheim, who met him at Gelnhausen in May, 1506. He knew him as a Georgius Sabellicus, who boasted that if all the works of Plato and Aristotle were burnt, he could restore them from his memory. He avoided meeting Trittenheim, by whom he was despised as a charlatan, but left his card for him. On his card he described himself as " Magister Georgius Sabellicus, Faustus junior, fons necromanticorum, magus secundus, chiromanticus, agromanticus, pyromanticus, in hydra arte secundus." The name of "Faustus junior," in this first record of an actual magician taking the name of Faustus, might point to the fame of a preceding conjuror who had borne the name of Faustus in the latter part of the fifteenth century, and who had laid foundations of a common fame associated with tlie name, although there is no other trace of his existence. It may have been his actual name, or he may have taken it as a Latin addition, meaning Fortunate. A fifteenth century Faustus may have been one man, Georgius Sabellicus another, and. our Faustus (of whom, in that case, the first notice would be in 1525), a third. In 1513 Conrad Mudt, a friend of Melancthou, spoke of a braggart and fool who pretended to magic, whom he had found at Erfurth, calling himself "Georgius Faustus Hemitheus," (demigod) " of Heidelberg." An old Leipzig chronicle gives 1525 as the year in which Doctor Johann Faust rode before the eyes of many people out of Auerbach's cellar on a barrel of wine, with which he refreshed the students. The feat was celebrated by two pictures on the walls of the cellar, and under the picture of Faust and the students drinking were lines to this effect —

Live thou, drink, and remember how Faustus lived for his pleasure, Lame-footed, slow-coming Pain overtook him, Pain without measure.

In a volume of notes from the conversation of Melancthon {Locornm

INTRODUCTION.

C07nmunium collcctanex ; a Johanue Manlio per viultos annos pleraque turn ex lectionibiis D. Philippi Melaucilioiiis, turn ex aliorum vlrorum rclationibtis cxcerpta ct nuper in ordinem ab eodeyn redacta), Johann Mennel represents that Reformer as saying : "I knew a man named Faustus, out of Kiindling" (Kniitlingen), "a little town not far from my own home" (at Bretten, in Baden, Kniitlingen being a frontier town of Wurtemburg). "When he studied at Cracow he learnt magic, as it used to be actively taught there, where public lectures were read on the art. Afterwards he roamed about and talked of secret things. When he sought attention at Venice, he gave out that he would fly. The Devil lifted him to some height, but then let him fall, so that he almost died of the bruise. Not many years ago this Johannes Faustus sat, on his last day, greatly troubled, in a Wurtemberg village inn. The innkeeper asked him why he was so much troubled and unlike himself, for he had formerly been a wild fellow, who more than once was nearly killed over his love affairs. Whereupon lie replied to that village innkeeper : ' Do not be frightened to-night.' At midnight the house shook. As Faustus had not risen next morning, when it was already noon, the innkeeper went into his room, and found him lying near the bed with his face twisted round. It was so that the Devil killed him. When he yet lived he went about with a dog, who was the Devil."

This was published in 1562, In 1563 appeared Wier's wise and generous book, De Prcestigiis Dcevzonuvi ct iiicantationibiis ac veneficiis, in which there are stories of Faustus. Wier follows Mennel's record as to the magi- cian's birthplace ; and in 1585, two years before the pubhcation of the book on Faustus at the Frankfort fair, another book, by Augustin Lercheimer — Bcdcnckcn von Zanbcrcy — suggested by indignation against the cruelties practised on witches, who should be placed, said Lercheimer, under the doctor and the divine, not under the criminal judge, told more stories about Faustus, and gave the right form of the name of his birthplace, Kniitlingen. Roda, which Marlowe translates Rhodes, first appears as Faust's birthplace in the first edition of the famous prose story, published in Frankfort in 1587, at the autumn book fair.

That book was widely read. Before the end of the year John Aylmer, Bishop of London, licensed "A Ballad of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus, the great Conjuror." In the following year, 1588, there was a new edition of the original German book, with some additions, also a rhymed version in German, and a translation into Low German. From the second edition of the book published at PYankfort, a translation was made into English, and published, without date, in 1588 or 1589, as The History of the Daintiable Life and Deserved Death of Dr. John Faustus. Newly printed, and in convenient places impej'tinent matter amended, according to the true copy printed at Frankfort, and translated into English by P. R. Gent. At the same time young Christopher Marlowe must have been turn- ing the new story-book into a play. ']"he original German book of 1587 was translated into French by Victor Palma Cayct, whose translation was published in 1589, and in 1592 there appeared a Dutch translation of the second German edition. This translation not only gave 1538 as the year of the death of Faustus, but fi.xed also the exact time of his being carried off by the Devil. It was in "the night between the 23rd and 24th of October.

In 1587, when the story of Faustus first appeared at Frankfort, Christopher Marlovvc was a young man in the twenty-fourth year of his age. He had been baptized on the 26th of February, 1564 (new style) in the Church of St. George the Martyr, at Cant,orbury. His father was John Marlowe, a shoemaker. After education at the King's School, in Canterbury, hematri-

INTRODUCTION.

ciliated as a Pensioner of Benct College, Cambridge. Christopher Marlowe matriculated at Cambridge in March, 1581, and probably owed his college education to the kindness of Sir Roger Manwood. Sir Roger had himself risen from the ranks to which John Marlowe belonged ; he was distinguished for munificence, and had his chief mansion near Canterbury. In 1583 Christopher Marlowe took his B.A. degree, and he proceeded to M.A. in 1587, when he had alrendy leapt to fame as a dramatist by the great success of his first play. That play w\as Tainbnrlainc the Great. A letter by Thomas Nash, prefixed to Greene's Mcnaphon, published in 1587, condemns the recent introduction of blank verse upon the stage, audit was Marlowe, in his Tambnrlaiae, who introduced it. In the next year, 1588, Greene, in an address " to the Gentlemen Readers" prefixed to his novel of Pcrimcdes, the Blacksmith, refers directly to the " daring of God out of Heaven" by " that atheist Tamburlan."

IMarlovve and Shakespeare were within two months of the same age. Shakespeare came to London about the year 1586, twenty-five years after the production of Gorbodiic, our earliest English tragedy. During those twenty-five years few plays of high mark had been produced. The writers had been almost invariably young University men. Shakespeare studied his art as an actor, and as an altercr of other men's plays, for about six years be- fore he declared his strength as an original writer. Those six years of Shakespeare's training time include almost the whole career of Marlowe, the greatest of liis predecessors, from the first acting of Tambiirlainc, in 1586 or 1587, until his death by a stab in a tavern brawl on the ist of June, 1593, when he was little more than twenty-nine years old. Marlowe's Tambiirlaiiie — Timourthe Tartar — was the story of a Scythian shepherd chief, who began with revolt from Persia, then rolled a tide of conquest through the Eastern world, and was the scourge of kings. Marlowe represented his swelling pride, that braved at last the Gods themselves, in bombastic phrase, but with the grand energy of a young poet who had also realms to conquer. In a prologue of eight lines Marlowe began with a repudiation of rhyme, and dis- dain of the base jesting of the clown who intruded himself too freely on the action of our early plays.

From jigging veins of rhyming mother wits And such conceits as clownage keeps in pay, I'll lead you

said Marlowe, and there are no clown scenes in any of his plays, excepting Faustus. l^iesh from the display of pride in the strong arm of the flesh defying Heaven, Marlowe was ready to write his second play when the Faust story appeared at Frankfort. Probably the book was brought to England by a company of English players, who are known to have been in the service of Duke Christian of Saxony in October, 1586. But however Marlowe came bv the book, in the very year of its first publication, here was a picture of the pride of intellect defiant of its Giver, and although there were many clownish incidents of magic in the original book that were intended to blend jest with earnest, Marlowe probably confined himself to the poetical develop- ment of the main thought. Clown scenes, not pertinent to the main story, were, I believe, added ""at will by the players for the satisfaction of their audiences. This is fairly to be inferred from the fact that the earliest known edition of Marlowe's Faustus was published in 1604, and entries in the diary of Henslowe the player, dated respectively 1597 and 1602, record payments for " additions to Faustus."

Goethe's Faust was first published in 1806, after a slow development through many years. The ballad of the King of Thule, the first monologue, and the first scene with Wagner, were written in 1774-5 ; from that time

8 INTRODUCTION.

onward Goethe made fragmentary additions from time to time. In 1797 he remodelled the whole work, then added the two Prologues and the Walpur- gis night. In 1801 the work was finished. The feebler Second Part of ^Fanst, completed in July, 1831, at the age of 81 — Goethe died on the 22nd of Alarch, 1832 — was an after thought, continuing to the end association of the Faust legend with thoughts and feelings from his own experience of life. " The marionette fable of Faust," he said, " murmured with many voices in my soul. I too had wandered into every department of knowledge, and liad returned early enough satisfied with the vanity of science. And life, too, I had tried under various aspects, and always came back sorrowing and unsatisfied."

Here it must be enough to say that Johann Wolfgang von Goethe was born at Frankfort -on-the-Main, August 28, 1749. His father was an Imperial Councillor with refined tastes, which he could satisfy, and in which he could train his son. Geothe studied at Leipsic, and afterwards at Strasburg ; cared more for the natural sciences than for law ; took the degree of doctor, and at the age of twenty-five represented the sick mind of Europe in the days before the French Revolution with the ' ' Sorrows of the Young Werter," first published in 1774. In 1779 he entered the service of the Duke of Saxe Weimar, by whom he was employed in high offices, loaded with honours, and impeded in the free use of his mind. But after the first ten years at Weimar, a journey to Italy gave impulse to his genius, and bore fruit in Iphigenia, Eguionf, Tasso, and much of Faust. This greatest of German poets began his career, like Schiller, with reaction against a literature of classical convention and a life encumbered with dead forms. He gave, for Germany, highest expression to the struggle for a real life, uttering itself in a real literature. Taught by the free spirit of Shakespeare, he turned early from the classical drama to represent in Gotz von Bcrlichingen, a hero out of the old national tradition, who like himself, though in another way, defied authority. As flie healtliy artist life developed, the poet was the man. From the lightest grace of song to the large conception of his burgher epic, Hermann und Dorothea, most of all in his Faust, all is direct utterance of his own inner life, with the intensity and the repose of thought that through the man himself, and his own life problems, touched all humanity in a time of Revolution, when minds exulted in the new sense of recovered power. Goethe solved no riddle of hfe, but he expressed himself, and, through him- self, a world of newly wakened thought among men, with the full sincerity that is of the essence of all high artistic power.

Dr. John Anster, whose version is here given, was the earliest translator of Faust into English. He was born in Cork at the close of the last century, educated at Trinity College, Dublin, and called to the Irish Bar in 1824, He graduated as LL.D. in 1826. He had published at one-and-twenty a prize poem, and Poems with Translations from the German, and after con- tributing to Dlack-ioood's Magazine — in which he was a frequent writer — ■ fragments of his translation of Faust, he published the whole in 1835.

In 1850 Dr. Anster was appointed Regius Professor of Civil Law in the University of Dublin. He died in June, 1867. His translation oi Faust gave pleasure to Coleridge, and is liked in Germany.

7^^h, 1883. HENRY MORLEY.

The Tragical History of Doctor F'austus.

[Fro7H the Quarto of 1604.1

DRAMATIS PERSONS.

The Pope.

Cardinal of Lorrain.

The Emperor of Germany.

Duke of Vanholt.

Faustus.

Valdes, •) ^ . , , „

[.friends to Faustus. Cornelius,)

Wagner, servant to Faustus.

Clown.

Robin.

Ralph.

Vintner.

Horse-Courser.

A. Knight.

An Old Man.

Scholars, Friars, and Attendants,

Duchess of Vanholt,

Lucifer.

Belzebub.

Mephistophilis.

Good Angel.

Evil Angel.

The Seven Deadly Sins.

Devils,

Spirits in the shapes of Alexander

THE Great, of his Paramour,

and of Helen. Chorus.

Enter Chorus.

Cho. Not marching now in fields of Thrasymene, Where Mars did mate the Carthaginians j Nor sporting in the dalHance of love, In courts of kings, where state is overturn'd'^

10 FAUSTUS. [act I,

Nor in the pomp of proud audacious deeds,

Intends our muse to vaunt her heavenly verse :

Only this, gentlemen, — we must perform

The form of Faustus' fortunes, good or bad.

To patient judgments we appeal our plaud,

And speak for Faustus in his infancy.

Now is he born, his parents base of stock.

In Germany, within a town call'd Rhodes :

Of riper years, to Wertenberg he went,

Whereas his kinsmen chiefly brought him. up.

So soon he profits in divinity,

The fruitful plot of scholarism grac'd,

That shortly he was grac'd with doctor's name.

Excelling all whose sweet delight disputes

In heavenly matters of theology ;

Till swoln with cunning of a self-conceit,

His waxen wings did mount above his reach,

And, melting, heavens conspir'd his overthrow;

For, falling to a deviHsh exercise,

And glutted now with learning's golden gifts,

He surfeits upon cursed necromancy ; .

Nothing so sweet as magic is to him.

Which he prefers before his chiefest bliss :

And this the man that in his study sits. \Exit.

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS, II

ACT I. Scene I. Faustus discovei'ed in his study. Faust, Settle thy studies, Faustus, and begin To sound the depth of that thou wilt profess : Having commenc'd, be a divine in shew, Yet level at the end of every art, And live and die in Aristotle's works. Sweet Analytics, 'tis thou hast ravish'd me ! Bene disserere est finis logiccs. Is, to dispute well, logic's chiefest end ? Affords this art no greater miracle ? Then read no more ; thou hast attain'd that end : A greater subject fitteth Faustus' wit : Bid Economy farewell, Galen come : Seeing, Ubi desinit philosophus, ibi incipit medicus : Be a physician, Faustus ; heap up gold. And be eterniz'd for some wondrous cure. Suniinum bonum medicincz sanitas. The end of physic is our body's health. Why, Faustus, hast thou not attain'd that end ? Is not thy common talk sound aphorisms ? Are not thy bills hung up as monuments, Whereby whole cities have escap'd the plague, And thousand desperate maladies been eas'd ? Yet art thou still but Faustus, and a man.

13

FAUSTUS. [act I.

Couldst thou make men to live eternally,

Or, being dead, raise them to life again,

Then this profession were to be esteem'd.

Physic, farewell ! Where is Justinian ? \Reads.

Si ima eademqiie res legatur duobus^ alter rem,

Alter valorem rei, etc.

A pretty case of paltry legacies ! [Reads.

ExhcBredltare filium ?ion potest pater, nisi, etc.

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 ;

Too servile and illiberal for me.

When all is done, divinity is best :

Jerome's Bible, li'austus ; view it well. [Reads.

Stipendium peccati mors est .• Ha ! Stipendium,

The reward of sin is death : that's hard. [Reads.

Si peccasse 7iega7nus, fallimur, et nulla est in nobis Veritas ;

If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and there is 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,

V/hat will be, shall be ? Divinity, adieu !

These metaphysics of magicians.

And necromantic books are heavenly ;

Lines, circles, scenes, letters, and characters;

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS. 13

Ay, these are those that Faustus most desires.

O, what a world of profit and delight,

Of power, of honour, of omnipotence.

Is promis'd to the studious artizan !

All things that move between the quiet poles

Shall be at my command : emperors and kings

Are but obeyed in their several provinces.

Nor can they raise the wind or rend the clouds ;

But his domin-ion that exceeds in this,

Stretcheth as far as doth the mind of man ;

A sound magician is a mighty god :

Here, Faustus, tire thy brains to gain a deity.

Enter Wagner.

Faust. Wagner, commend me to my dearest friends, The German Valdes and Cornelius ; Request them earnestly to visit me.

Wag. I will, sir. \Exit.

Faust. Their conference will be a greater help to me Than all my labours, plod I ne'er so fast.

Enter Good Angel and Evil Angel.

Good A?ig. O, Faustus, lay that damned book aside, And gaze not on it, lest it tempt thy soul, And heap God's heavy wrath upon thy head ! Read, read the Scriptures : — that is blasphemy.

Evil A?ig. Go forward. Faustus, in that famous art

H FAUSTUS. [act I.

Wherein all Nature's treasure is contain'd :

Be thou on earth as Jove is in the sky,

Lord and commander of these elements. \Exeimt Angels,

Faust. How am I glutted with conceit of this ! Shall I make spirits fetch me what I please, Resolve me of all ambiguities, Perform what desperate enterprise I will ? I'll have them fly to India for gold. Ransack the ocean for orient pearl, And search all corners of the new-found world For pleasant fruits and princely delicates ; I'll have them read me strange philosophy, And tell the secrets of all foreign kings ; I'll have them wall all Germany with brass, And make swift Rhine circle fair Wertenberg \ I'll have them fill the public schools with silk. Wherewith the students shall be bravely clad ; I'll levy soldiers with the coin they bring, And chase the Prince of Parma from our land, And reign sole king of all the provinces ; Yea, stranger engines for the brunt of war. Than was the fiery keel at Antwerp's bridge, ril make my servile spirits to invent.

Enter Valdes and Cornelius.

Come, German Valdes, and Cornelius,

And make me blest with your sage conference.

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS, 15

Valdes, sweet Valdes, and Cornelius,

Know that your words have won me at the last

To practise magic and concealed arts :

Yet not your words only, but mine own fantasy,

That will receive no object; for my head

But ruminates on necromantic skill.

Philosophy is odious and obscure ;

Both law and physic are for petty wits ;

Divinity is basest of the three,

Unpleasant, harsh, contemptible, and vile :

'Tis magic, magic, that hath ravish'd me.

Then, gentle friends, aid me in this attempt ;

And I, that have with concise syllogisms

Gravell'd the pastors of the German church.

And made the flowering pride of Wertenberg

Swarm to my problems, as the infernal spirits

On sweet Musaeus when he came to hell.

Will be as cunning as Agrippa was,

Whose shadow made all Europe honour him.

VaL Faustus, these books, thy wit, and our experience, Shall make all nations to canonize us. As Indian Moors obey their Spanish lords, So shall the spirits of every element Be always serviceable to us three ; Like lions shall they guard us when we please ; Like Almain rutters with their horsemen's staves, Or Lapland giants, trotting by our sides ;

i6 FAUSTUS. [act I.

Sometimes like women, or unwedded maids,

Shadowing more beauty in their airy brows

Than have the white breasts of the Queen of Love :

From Venice shall they drag huge argosies,

And from America the golden fleece

That yearly stuffs old Philip's treasury ;

If learned Faustus will be resolute.

Faust. Valdes, as resolute am I in this As thou to live : therefore object it not.

Cor7i. The miracles that magic will perform Will make thee vow to study nothing else. He that is grounded in astrology, Enrich'd with tongues, well seen in minerals, Hath all the principles magic doth require : Then doubt not, Faustus, but to be renown'd, And more frequented for this mystery Than heretofore the Delphian oracle. The spirits tell me they can dry the sea, And fetch the treasure of all foreign wrecks, Ay, all the wealth that our forefathers hid Within the massy entrails of the earth : Then tell me, Faustus, what shall we three want ?

Faust. Nothing, Cornelius. O, this cheers my soul ! Come, shew me some demonstrations magical. That I may conjure in some lusty grove, And have these joys in full possession.

Val Then haste thee to some solitary grove^

SCENE ii.l FAUSTUS. 17

And bear wise Bacon's and Albertus' works, The Hebrew Psalter, and New Testament; And whatsoever else is requisite We will inform thee ere our conference cease.

Corn. Valdes, first let him know the words of art ; And then, all other ceremonies learn'd, Faustus may try his cunning by himself.

Val. First I'll instruct thee in the rudiments, And then wilt thou be perfecter than I.

Faust. Then come and dine with me, and after meat, We'll canvass every quiddity thereof; For, ere I sleep, I'll try what I can do : This night I'll conjure, though I die therefore. \Exeuni,

Scene II. Enter two Scholars. First SchoL I wonder what's become of Faustus, that was wont to make our schools ring with sic probo. *■ Sec. Schol. That shall we know ; for see, here comes his boy.

Enter Wagner. First SchoL How now, sirrah ! where's thy master ? Wag. God in heaven knows. Sec. Schol. Why, dost not thou know ? Wag. Yes, I know ; but that follows not. First Schol. Go to, sirrah ! leave your jesting, and tell us where he is.

1 8 FAUSTUS, [act I.

Wag. That follows not necessary by force of argument, that you, being licentiates, should stand upon it : therefore acknowledge your error, and be attentive.

Sec. Schol. Why, didst thou not say thou knewest ?

Wag. Have you any v/itness on't?

First ScJiol. Yes, sirrah, I heard you.

Wag. Ask my fellow if I be a thief.

Sec. Schol. Well, you will not tell us ?

Wag. Yes, sir, I will tell you : yet, if you v/ere not dunces, you would never ask me such a question ; for is not he corpus naturaie ? and is not that mobile ? then wherefore should you ask me such a question ? But that I am by nature phlegmatic, slow to wrath, and prone to lechery (to love, I would say), it were not for you to com.e within forty foot of the place of execution, although I do not doubt but to see you both hanged the next sessions. Thus having triumphed over you, I will set my countenance like a precisian, and begin to speak thus : — Truly, my dear brethren, my master is within at dinner, with Valdes and Cornelius, as this wine, if it could speak, would inform your worships : and so, the Lord bless you, preserve you, and keep you, my dear brethren, my dear brethren ! [^Exit.

First Schol. Nay, then, I fear he is fallen into that damned art for which they two are infamous through the world.

Sec. Schol. Were he a stranger, and not allied to me, yet should I grieve for him. But, conie, let us go and inform the Rector, and see if he by his grave counsel can reclaim him.

SCENE iii.J FAUSTUS. IQ

First Scliol. O, but I fear me nothing can reclaim him ! Sec. Schol. Yet let us try what we can do. \Exetmt.

Scene III. Flitter Faustus to conjure.

Faust. Now that the gloomy shadow of the earth, Longing to view Orion's drizzling look, Leaps from th' antarctic world unto the sky, And dims the welkin with her pitchy breath, Faustus, begin thine incantations, And try if devils will obey thy hest. Seeing thou hast pray'd and sacrific'd to them. Within this circle is Jehovah's name. Forward and backward anagrammatiz'd, Th' abbreviated names of holy saints, Figures of every adjunct to the heavens, And characters of signs and erring stars. By which the spirits are enforc'd to rise : Then fear not, Faustus, but be resolute, And try the uttermost magic can perform. —

Sint inihi dei Acherontis propitii I Valeat numen triplex yehovce! Fgnei, aerii, aqiiatani spiritits^ salvete! Orient is priiiceps Belzehub, iiifhmi arde?itis monarcha, et Demogorgon, propitiamus vos, ut appareat et surgat Mcphistophilis^ quod tumeraris; per Jehovam^ Geheiinani., et consccratam aqicani qtiam nunc spargo, sigmunque cruets quod 7tunc facio, et per vota nostra^ ipse ntmc surgat nobis dicatus Mephistophilis !

20 FAUSTUS. [act I.

Enter Mephistophilis.

I charge thee to return, and change thy shape ; Thou art too ugly to attend on me : Go, and return an old Franciscan friar ; That holy shape becomes a devil best.

{Exit Mephistophilis. I see there's virtue in my heavenly words : Who would not be proficient in this art ? How pliant is this Mephistophilis, Full of obedience and humility ! Such is the force of magic and my spells : Now, Faustus, thou art conjuror laureat, That canst command great Mephistophilis : Qiim regis Mephistophilis fratris imagine.

Enter Mephistophilis {like a Franciscan friar).

Meph. Now, Faustus, what wouldst thou have me do ?

Fanst. I charge thee wait upon me whilst I live, To do whatever Faustus shall command, Be it to make the moon drop from her sphere, Or the ocean to overwhelm the world.

Meph. I am a servant to great Lucifer, And may not follow thee without his leave : No more than he commands must we perform.

Faust. Did not he charge thee to appear to me?

jMeph. No^ I came hither of mine own accord.

SCENE III.] FA USTUS. 2 1

Faust, Did not my conjuring speeches raise thee ? speak. Meph. That was the cause, but yet per accidens ; For, when we hear one rack the name of God, Abjure the Scriptures and his Saviour Christ, We fly, in hope to get his glorious soul ; Nor will we come, unless he use such means Whereby he is in danger to be damn'd. Therefore the shortest cut for conjuring Is stoutly to abjure the Trinity, And pray devoutly to the prince of Hell.

Faust. So Faustus hath Already done ; and holds this principle, There is no chief but only Belzebub ; To whom Faustus doth dedicate himself. This word "damnation" terrifies not him, For he confounds hell in Elysium : His ghost be with the old philosophers ! But, leaving these vain trifles of men's souls, Tell me what is that Lucifer, thy Lord ?

Meph. Arch-regent and commander of all spirits.

Faust. Was not that Lucifer an angel once ?

Meph. Yes, Faustus, and most dearly lov'd of God.

Faiist. How comes it, then, that he is prince of devils?

Meph. O, by aspiring pride and insolence ; For which God threw him from the face of heaven.

Faust. And what are you that live with Lucifer ?

Meph. Unhappy spirits that fell with Lucifer,

22 FAUSTUS. [act I.

Gonspir'd against our God with Lucifer, And are for ever damn'd with Lucifer.

Faust. Where are you damn'd ? MepJi. In hell

Faust. How comes it, then, that thou art out of hell?

Meph. Why this is hell, nor am I out of it : Think'st thou that I, who saw the face of God, And tasted the eternal joys of heaven, Am not tormented with ten thousand hells, In being depriv'd of everlasting bliss ? O Faustus, leave these frivolous demands. Which strike a terror to my fainting soul !

Faust. What, is great Mephistophilis so passionate For being deprived of the joys of heaven ? Learn thou of Faustus manly fortitude, And scorn those joys thou never shalt possess. Go bear these tidings to great Lucifer : Seeing Faustus hath incurr'd eternal death By desperate thoughts against Jove's deity, Say, he surrenders up to him his soul, So he will spare him four and twenty years, Letting him live in all voluptuousness ; Having thee ever to attend on me, To give me whatsoever I shall ask, To tell me whatsoever I demand, To slay mine enemies, and aid my friends, And always be obedient to my will.

SCENE IV.] FAUSrUS, 23

Go and return to mighty Lucifer, And meet me in my study at midnight, And then resolve me of thy master's mind.

Meph. I will, Faustus. \_Exit.

Faust, Had I as many souls as there be stars, I'd give them all for Mephistophilis. By him I'll be great emperor of the world, And make a bridge through the moving air,. To pass the ocean with a band of men ; I'll join the hills that bnid the Afric shore. And make that country continent to Spain, And both contributory to my crown : The Emperor shall not live but by my leave, Nor any potentate of Germany. Now that I have obtain'd what I desire, I'll live in speculation of this art, Till Mephistophilis return again. \Exit.

Scene IV. Enter Wagner and Clown.

Wag. Sirrah, boy, come hither.

Cloivn. How, boy ! swowns, boy ! I hope you have seen many boys with such pickadevaunts as I have : boy, quotha !

Wag. Tell me, sirrah, hast thou any comings in ?

Cloivn. Ay, and goings out too ; you may see else.

Wag, Alas, poor slave ! see how poverty jesteth in his

24 FAUSTUS. [act I.

nakedness I the villain is bare and out of service, and so hungry, that I know he would give his soul to the devil for a shoulder of mutton, though it were blood-raw.

Clown. How ! my soul to the devil for a shoulder of mutton, though 'twere blood-raw ! not so, good friend ; by'r lady, I had need have it well roasted, and good sauce to it, if I i^ay so dear.

IVag. Well, wilt thou serve me, and I'll make thee go like Qui viihi discipulus ?

Clown. How, in verse ?

Wag. No, sirrah ; in beaten silk and staves-acre. Take these guilders. [^Gives money.

Clown. Gridirons ! what be they ?

Wag. Why, French crowns.

Cloivn. Mass, but for the name of French crowns, a man were as good have as many English counters. And what should I do with these ?

Wag. Why, now, sirrah, thou art at an hour's warning, whensoever or wheresoever the devil shall fetch thee.

Clo7vn. No, no ; here, take your gridirons again.

Wag. Truly, I'll none of them.

Clown. Truly, but you shall.

Wag. Bear witness, Igave them him.

Clown. Bear witness, I give them you again.

Wag. Well, I will cause two devils presently to fetch thee away — Baliol and Belcher ! • Clown. Let your Baliol and your Belcher come here, and

SCEN E IV.] FA C^S TUS. 2 5

I'll knock them, they were never so knocked since they were devils : say I should kill one of them, what would folks say ? " Do ye see yonder tall fellow in the round slop ? he has killed the devil," So I should be called Kill-devil all the parish over.

Enter two Devils ; and the Clown i'u?is up and dozen crying.

Wag. Baliol and Belcher,— spirits^ away !

[Exeunt Devils ,

Cloivn. What^ are they gone? a vengeance on them ! they have vile long nails. There was a he-devil and a she devil : I'll tell you how you shall know them ; all he-devils has horns, and all she-devils has cloven feet.

Wag. Well, sirrah, follow me.

Clown. But, do you hear ? if I should serve you, would you teach me to raise up Banios and Belcheos ?

Wag. I will teach thee to turn thyself to anything, to a dog, or a cat, or a mouse, or a rat, or anything.

Clown. How ! a Christian fellow to a dog, or a cat, a mouse, or a rat ! No. no, sir ; if you turn me into anything, let it be in the likeness of a little pretty frisking flea, that I maybe here and there and everywhere : I'll tickle the pretty wenches ! Til be amongst them, i' faith !

Wag. Well, sirrah, come.

Clown. But, do you hear, Wagner ?

Wag. How i — Baliol and Belcher \

2,6 FAUSTUS, [act II.

Cloivn. O Lord ! I pray, sir, let Baliol and Belcher go sleep.

IVag. Villain, call me Master Wagner, and let thy left eye be diametarily fixed upon my right heel, with quasi Tdesiigiis nostris insisiere. \Exif.

Clown. God forgive me, he speaks Dutch fustian. V/ell, I'll follow him ; I'll serve him, that's flat. \Exit,

ACT IL

Scene I.

Faustus discovered in his Study.

iFcAist. Nov/, Faustus, must thou needs be damn'd: And canst thou not be sav'd ? What boots it, then, to think of God or heaven ? Away with such vain fancies, and despair; Despair in God, and trust in Belzebub : Now go not backward ; no, Faustus, be resolute : Why waver'st thou ? O, something soundeth in mine ears, '' Abjure this magic, turn to God again !" Ay, and Faustus will turn to God again. To God ? He loves thee not ; The god thou serv'st is thine own appetite, Wherein is fix'd the love of Belzebub : To him I'll build an altar and a church, And offer lukewarm blood of new-born babes.

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS. 27

Enter Good Angel and Evil Angel.

Good Afig. Sweet Faustus, leave that execrable art.

Fcmst. Contrition, prayer, repentance — what of them?

Good Ang. O, they are means to bring thee unto heaven !

Evil Ang. Rather illusions, fruits of lunacy, That make men foolish that do trust them most.

Good Ang. Sweet Faustus, think of heaven and heavenly things.

Evil Ang. No^ Faustus ; think of honour and of v/ealth.

\Exetint Angels.

Faust. Of wealth! Why, the signiory of Embden shall be mine. When Mephistophilis shall stand by me, What God can hurt thee, Faustus ? Thou art safe : Cast no more doubts. — Come, Mephistophilis, And bring glad tidings from great Lucifer ; — Is't not midnight ? — Come, Mephistophilis, Veni^ vent, Mephistophile.

Enter Mephistophilis,

Now tell me what sayeth Lucifer, thy lord ?

Meph. That I shall wait on Faustus whilst he lives. So he will buy my service with his soul.

Faust. Already Faustus hath hazarded that or thee.

Meph. But, Faustus^ thou must bequeath it solemnly,

28 FAUSTUS. [act 11.

And write a deed of gift with thine own blood j For that security craves great Lucifer. If thou deny it, I will back to hell.

Fa2(st. Stay, Mephistophilis, and tell me, what good Will my soul do thy lord ?

Meph. Enlarge his kingdom.

Faust. Is that the reason why he tempts us thus ? "

Meph. Solanien miseris socios hahdsse doloris.

Faust. Why, have you any pain that torture others?

Meph. As great as have the human souls of men. But, tell me, Faustus, shall I have thy soul ? And I will be thy slave, and wait on thee, And give thee more than thou hast wit to ask.

Faust. Ay, Mephistophilis, I give it thee.

Meph. Then, Faustus, stab thine arm courageously, And bind thy soul, that at some certain day Great Lucifer may claim it as his own ; And then be thou as great as Lucifer.

Faust. [^Stabbing his arm.] Lo, Mephistophilis, for love of thee, I cut mine arm, and with my proper blood Assure my soul to be great Lucifer's, Chief lord and regent of perpetual night ! View here the blood that trickles from mine arm, And let it be propitious for my wish.

Meph. But, Faustus, thou must Write it in manner of a deed of gift.

SCENE i.l FAUSTUS. 29

Faust. Ay, so I will. [ IVrtles.] But, Mephistophilis, My blood congeals, and I can write no more.

Meph. I'll fetch thee fire to dissolve it straight. [Exit.

Faust. What might the staying of my blood portend ^ Is it unwilling I should write this bill ? Why streams it not, that I may write afresh ? -^

Fatistus gives to thee his soul : ah, there it stay'd ! Why should'st thou not ? is not thy soul thine own ? Then write again, Faust us gives to tJiee his soul.

Re-enier Mephistophilis with a cJiafer of coals,

Meph. Here's fire ; come, Faustus, set it on.

Faust. So, now the blood begins to clear again ; Now will I make an end immediately. [ Writes.

Meph. O, what will not I do to obtain his soul ? [Aside.

Faust. Co?isummatuni est, this bill is ended, i^nd Faustus hath bequeathed his soul to Lucifer. But what is this inscription on mine arm ? Homofuge : whither should I flv ? If unto God, he'll throw me down to hell. My senses are deceiv'd, here's nothing writ 3 — I see it plain ; here in this place is writ, Homo fuge : yet shall not Faustus fly.

Meph. I'll fetch him som.ewhat to delight his mind.

[Aside, a?id then exit.

so FAUSTUS, [act II.

Re-enter Mephistophilis ivith Devils, 7v ho give crowns and rich apparel to Faustus, dance^ and then depart.

Faust. Speak, Mephistophilis, what means this show?

Mepk, Nothing, Faustus, but to deHght thy mind withal, And to shew thee what magic can perform.

Faust. But may I raise up spirits when I please ?

Meph. Ay, Faustus, and do greater things than these.

Faust. Then there's enough for a thousand souls. Here, Mephistophilis, receive this scroll, A deed of gift of body and of soul : But yet conditionally that thou perform All articles prescrib'd between us both !

Meph. Faustus, I swear by hell and Lucifer To eftect all promises between us made.

Faust. Then hear me read them. \Reads^ On these co7iditions following. First, that Faustus may be a spirit in form and substance. Secofidly, that Mephis- tophilis shall be his serva?it, and at his command. Thirdly^ that Mephistophilis shall do for him, aiid bring him whatsoever he desires. Fourthly, that he shall be in his chamber or house i?ivisible. Lastly, that he shall appear to the said John Faustus, at all times, in what form or shape soever he please. I, yohn Faustus of Wertenberg, Doctor, by these presents, do give both body and soul to Lucifer, prince of the East, and his minister Mephistophilis; and furthermore grant imto them, that, twenty four yeais being expired, the

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS. 31

articles above written inviolate, full power to fetch or carry the said yoh7i Faiisttis, body and soid^fcsh, blood, or goods, into their habitation wheresoever. By me, J^ohn Faustus.

Meph. Speak, Faustus, do you deliver this as your deed?

Faust. Ay, take it, and the devil give thee good on't.

Meph. Now, Faustus, ask what thou wilt.

Faust. First will I question with thee about hell. Tell me, v/here is the place that men call hell ?

Meph. Under the heavens.

Faust. Ay, but whereabout ?

Meph. Within the bowels of these elements, Where we are tortur'd and remain for ever : Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscrib'd In one self place ; for v/here we are is hell, And where hell is, must v/e ever be : And, to conclude, when all the vv'orld dissolves, And every creature shall be purified. All places shall be hell that are not heaven.

Faust. Come, I think, hell's a fable.

Meph. Ay, think so still, till experience change thy mind.

Faust. Why, think'st thou, then, that Faustus shall be damned ?

Meph. Ay, of necessity, for here's the scroll Wherein thou hast given thy soul to Lucifer.

Faust. Ay, and body too : but what of that ? Think'st thou that Faustus is so fond to imagine

32 FAUSTUS. [act II.

That, after this life, there is any pain ?

Tush, these are trifles and mere old wives' tales.

Mep/i. But, Faustus, I am an instance to prove the contrary, Tor I am damned, and am now in hell.

Faust. How ! Now in hell ! Nay, an' this be hell, I'll willingly be damn'd here ; What ! v/alking, disputing ! etc. But, leaving off this, let me have a wife, The fairest maid in Germany ; For I am wanton and lascivious, And cannot live without a wife.

Meph. How ! a v*'ife !

I priihec, Faustus, talk not of a wife.

Faust. Nay, sweet Mephistophilis, fetch me one ; For I will have one.

Aleph. Well, thou wilt have one ? Sit there till I come : ril fetch thee a wife in the devil's name. \^Exit,

Re-enter Mephistophilis with a Devil drest like a womaji^ witJi fireivorks.

Meph. Tell me, Faustus, how dost thou like thy wife ?

Faust. A plague on her ....

Meph. Tut, Faustus, Marriage is but a ceremonial toy ; If thou lovest me, think no more of it.

SCENE 1.] FAUSTUS, , ss

She whom thine eye shall like, thy heart shall have,

Be she as cha steas was Penelope,

As wise as Saba, or as beautiful

As was bright Lucifer before his fall.

Hold, take this book, peruse it thorouglily : [Gives hook.

The iterating of these lines brings gold ;

The framing of this circle on the ground

Brings whirlwinds, tempests, thunder, and lightning.

Pronounce this thrice devoutly to thyself,

And men in armour shall appear to thee,

Ready to execute what thou desir'st.

Faust. Thanks, Mephistophilis : yet fain would I have a book wherein I might behold all spells and incantations, that I might raise up spirits when I please.

Meph. Here they are in this book. [7>;;7w to them.

Paicst. Now would I have a book where I might see all characters and planets of the heavens, that I might know their motions and dispositions.

Mep/i. Here they are too. [Turns ^o them.

Faust. Nay, let me have one book more, — and then I have done, — wherein I might see all plants, herbs, and trees, that grow upon the earth.

Meph. Here they be. ^

Faust. O, thou art deceived.

Meph, Tut, I warrant thee, [Turns to them.

34 FAUSTUS. [act ii.

Scene II. E7iter Faustus and Mephistophilis.

Faust. When I behold the heavens, then I repent, And curse thee, wicked Mephistophilis, Because thou hast depriv'd me of those joys.

Meph. Why, Faustus^ Thinkest thou heaven is such a glorious thing ? I tell thee, 'tis not half so fair as thou, Or any man that breathes on earth.

Faust. Hova^ prov'st thou that ?

Meph. 'Twas made for man, therefore is man more ex- cellent.

Faust. If it were made for man, 'twas made for me ; 1 will renounce this magic, and repent.

Enttr Good Angel and Evil Angel.

Good Ang. Faustus, repent ; yet God will pity thee* Evil Ang. Thou art a spirit ; God cannot pity thee* Faust. Who buzzeth iii mine ears I am a spirit ?

Be I a devil, yet God may pity me ;

Ay, God will pity me, if I repent.

Evil Ang. Ay, but Faustus never shall repent.

\Exeunt Angels, Faust. My heart's so hardened I cannot repent ;

Scarce can I name salvation, faith, or heaven,

But fearful echoes thunder in mine ears

SCENE II.] FAUSTUS. ' 35

" Faustus, thou art damn'd ! " then swords, and knives,

Poison, guns, halters, and envenom'd steel

Are laid before me to despatch myself;

And long ere this I should have slain rqyself,

Had not sweet pleasure conquered deep despair.

Have not I made blind Homer sing to me

Of Alexander's love, and CEnon's death ?

And hath not he, that built the walls of Thebes,

With ravishing sound of his melodious harp,

Made music with my MephistophiUs ?

Why should I die, then, or basely despair?

I am resolv'd ; Faustus shall ne'er repent. —

Come, Mephistophilis, let us dispute again.

And argue of divine .astrology.

Tell me, are there many heavens above the moon ?

Are all celestial bodies but one globe,

As is the substance of this centric earth ?

Meph. As are the elements, such are the spheres, Mutually folded in each other's orb, And, Faustus,

All jointly move upon one axletree, Whose terminine is termed the world's wide pole : Nor are the names of Saturn, Mars, or Jupiter Feign'd, but are erring stars.

Faust. But, tell me, have they all one motion, both situ et fefnpore ?

Meph. All jointly move from east to west in twenty-four

B2

6 FA USTUS. [act [i.

hours upon the poles of the world ; but differ in their motion upon the poles of the zodiac.

Faust. Tush, these slender trifles Wagner can decide : Hath Mephistophilis no greater skill ? Who knows not the double motion of the planets ? The first is finish'd in a natural day \

The second thus ; as Saturn in thirty years, Jupiter in twelve; Mars in four ; the Sun, Venus, and Mercury in a year ; the Moon in twenty-eight days. Tush, these are freshmen's suppositions. But, tell me, hath every sphere a dominion or inielligeniia ?

MepJu Ay.

Faust. How many heavens or spheres are there ?

Meph. Nine ; the seven planets, the firmament, and the empyreal heaven.

Faust. Well, resolve me in this question ; why have we not conjunctions, oppositions, aspects, eclipses, all at one time, but in some years we have more, in some less ?

Meph. Per incEqiialem uwtipn respeciit iotius.

Faust. Well, I am answered. Tell me who made the world ?

Meph. I will not.

Faust. Sweet Mephistophilis, tell me.

Meph. Move me not, for I will not tell thee.

Faust. Villain, have not I bound thee to tell me anything ?

Meph. Ay, that is not against our kingdom ; but this is. Thmk thou on hell, Faustus, for thou art damned.

SCENE il] FAUSTUS. 37

Faust. Think, Faustus, upon God that made the v/orld.

Meph. Remember this. [ZT.wV.

Faust. Ay ! go, accursed spirit, to ugly hell ! 'Tis thou hast damn'd distressed Faustus' soul ! Is't not too late ?

Re-entei' Good Angel and Evil Angel. Evil Aug. Too late.

Good Aug. Never too late, if Faustus can repent. Evil Aug. If thou repent, devils shall tear thee in pieces. Good' Aug. Repent, and they shall never raze thy skin,

\Exeiint Angels. Faust. Ah, Christ, my Saviour, Seek to save distressed Faustus' soul !

Enter Lucifer, Belzebub, ^;z// Mephistophilis.

Luc. Christ cannot save thy soul, for he is just : There's none but I have interest in the same.

Faust. O, who art thou that look'st so terrible .?

Luc. I am Lucifer ; And this is my companion-prince in Hell.

Faust. O, Faustus, they are come to fetch away thy soul !

Luc. We come to tell thee thou dost injure us ; Thou talk'st of Christ, contrary to thy promise : Thou shouldst not think of God : think of the devil, And of his dam too.

Faust. Nor will I henceforth : pardon me in this.

38 FAUSTUS. [act ii.

And Faiistus vows never to look to heaven, Never to name God, or to pray to him, To burn his Scriptures, slay his ministers, And make my spirits pull his churches down.

Luc. Do so, and we will highly gratify thee. Faustus, we are come from hell, to shew thee some pastime : sit down, . and thou shalt see all the Seven Deadly Sins appear in their proper shapes.

Faust, That sight will be as pleasing unto me, As Paradise was to Adam, the first day Of his creation.

Ltic. Talk not of Paradise nor creation ; but mark this show : talk of the devil and nothing else. — Come away !

Enter the Seven Deadly Sins.

Now, Faustus, examine them of their several names and dispositions.

Faust. What art thou, the first ?

Pride. I am Pride : I disdain to have any parents. Some- times, like a perriwig, I sit upon a wench's brow; or, like a fan of feathers, I kiss her lips ; indeed, I do — what do I not ? But, fie, what a scent is here ? I'll not speak another word except the ground were perfumed, and covered with cloth of arras.

Faust. What art thou, the second ?

Covet. I am Covetousness, begotten of an old churl, in an old leathern bag : and, might I have my wish, I would desire

SCENE II.] FAUSTUS, 39

that this house and all the people in it were turned to gold, that I might lock you up in my good chest. O, my sweet gold!

Faust. What art thou, the third ?

Wrath. I am Wrath j I had neither father nor mother : I leapt out of a lion's mouth when I was scarce half-an-hour old ; and ever since I have run up and down the world with this case of rapiers, wounding myself when I had nobody to fight withal. I was born in hell ; and look to it, for some of you shall be my father.

Faust. What art thou, the fourth?

Envy. I am Envy, begotten of a chimney-sweeper and an oyster-wife. I cannot read, and therefore wish all books were burnt. I am lean with seeing others eat. O, that there would come a famine through all the world, that all might die, and I live alone ! Then thou shouldst see how fat I would be. But must thou sit, and I stand ? come down, with a vengeance I

Faust. Away, envious rascal!— What art thou, the fifth?

Glut. Who, I5 sir? I am Gluttony. My parents are all dead, and the devil a penny they have left me ; but a bare pension, and that is thirty meals a day and ten bevers, — a small trifle to suffice nature. O, I come of a royal parent- age ! my grandfather was a Gammon of Bacon, my grand- mother a Hogshead of Claret-wine; my godfathers were these, Peter Pickle-herring and Martin Martlemas-beef ; O, but my godmother, she was a jolly gentlewoman, and well-

40 FAUSTUS. [act II.

beloved in every good town and city ; her name was Mistress Margery March-beer. Now, Faustus, thou hast heard all my progeny; wilt thou bid me to supper?

Faust. No, ril see thee hanged ; thou wilt eat up all my victuals.

Glut. Then the devil choke thee !

Faust. Choke thyself, glutton ! — What art thou^ the sixth?

Sloth. I am Sloth. I was begotten on a sunny bank, where I have lain ever since ; and you have done me great injury to bring me from thence : let me be carried thither again by Gluttony and Lechery. I'll not speak another vrord for a king's ransom.

- Faust. V/hat are you. Mistress Minx, the seventh and last?

Lechery. Who, I, sir? The first letter of my name begins with L.

Luc. Away, to hell, to hell ! \_Exe2mt the Sins*

Luc. Now, Faustus, how dost thou like this?

Faust. O, this feeds my soul !

Luc. Tut, Faustus, in hell is all manner of delight.

Faust. O, might I see hell, and return again. How happy were I then !

LiLc. Thou shalt; I will send for thee at midnight. In meantime take this book ; peruse it thoroughly, And thou shalt turn thyself into what shape thou wilt

Faust. Great thanks, mighty Lucifer ! This will I keep as chary as my life.

SCENE 1.] FAUSTUS. 41

Luc. Farewell, Faustus, and think on the devil. Faust. Farewell, great Lucifer.

\Exeunt Lucifer and Belzebup,. Come, Mephistophilis. \Exeunt.

ACT IIL

Efifcr Chorus.

C/ior. Learned Faustus, To know the secrets of astronomy, Graven in the book of Jove's high firmament, Did mount himself to scale Olympus' top. Being seated in a chariot burning bright, Drawn by the strength of yoked dragons' necks. He now is gone to prove cosmography, And, as I guess, will first arrive at Rome, To see the Pope and manner of his court, And take some part of Holy Peter's feast, That to this day is highly solemniz'd. [Exit.

Scene L Enter Faustus a?id Mephistophilis. i^aust. Having now, my good Mephistophilis, Pass'd with delight the stately town of Trier, Environ'd round with airy mountain-tops. With walls of flint, and deep-entrenched lakes, Not to be won by any conquering Prince ; From Paris next, coasting the realm of France,

42 ^ FAUSTUS. . [act III.

We saw the river Maine fall into Rhine,

Whose banks are set with groves of fruitful vines ;

Then up to Naples, rich Campania,

Whose buildings fair and gorgeous to the eye,

The streets straight forth, and pav'd with finest brick,

Quarter the town in four equivalents :

There saw we learned Maro's golden tomb,

The way he cut, an English mile in length,

Through a rock of stone, in one night's space.

From thence to Venice, Padua, and the rest.

In one of which a sumptuous temple stands,

That threats the stars with her aspiring top.

Thus hitherto hath Faustus spent his time :

But tell me now, what resting-place is this ?

Hast thou, as erst I did command,

Conducted me within the walls of Rome ?

Meph. Faustus, I have; and because we will not be unprovided, I have taken up his Holiness' privy-chamber for our use.

Faust. I hope his Holiness will bid us welcom.e. Meph. Tut, 'tis no matter, man ; we'll be bold with his good cheer. And now, my Faustus, that thou mayst perceive What Rome containeth to delight thee with, Know that this city stands upon seven hills, That underprop the groundwork of the same : Just through the midst runs flowing Tiber's stream,

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS. 43

With winding banks that cut it in two parts ; Over the which four stately bridges lean, That make safe passage to each part of Rome. Upon the bridge, call'd Ponte Angelo, Erected is a castle passing strong, Within whose walls such store ot ordnance are, And double cannons fram'd of carved brass, As match the days within one complete year j Besides the gates, and high pyramides, Which Julius Caesar brought from Africa.

Faust, Now, by the kingdoms of infernal rule, Of Styx, of Acheron, and the fiery lake Of ever-burning Phlegethon, I swear That I do long to see the monuments And situation of bright-splendent Rome ; Come, therefore, let's away.

Meph. Nay, Faustus, stay : I know you'd fain see the Pope, And take some part of holy Peter's feast, Where thou shalt see a troop of bald-pate friars, Whose sumimun honwn is in belly-cheer.

Faust. Well, I'm content to compass them some sport, And by their folly make us merriment ; Then charm me, that I may be invisible To do what I please, Unseen of any whilst I stay in Rome.

[Mephistophilis charms him.

44 FAUST US. [act iii.

Meph. So, Fauslus ; now Uo what thou wilt, thou shalt not be discern'd.

Sound a Sotuiet. Enter the Pope and the Cardinal of LoRRAiN to the l?anquet^ with Friars attending.

Pope. My Lord of Lorrain, will't please you draw near ?

Faust. Fall to, and tlie devil choke you, an' you spare.

Pope. How now ! who's that which spake ? Friars, look about.

First Friar. Here's nobody, if it like your Holiness.

Pope. My lord, here is a dainty dish was sent me from the Bishop of Milan.

Faust. I thank you, sir. [Snatches the dish.

Pope. How now ! who's that which snatched the meat from me? will no man look? — My lord, this dish was sent me from the Cardinal of Florence.

Faust. You say true ; I'll hat. \Snatches the dish.

Pope. What, again ! — My lord, FU drink to your Grace.

Faust. I'll pledge your Grace. \Snatches the cup.

C. of Lor. My lord, it may be some ghost, newly crept out of Purgatory, come to beg a pardon of your Holiness.

Fope. It may be so. — Friars, prepare a dirge to lay the fury of this ghost. — Once again, my lord, fall to.

\_The Pope crosses himself.

Faust. What, are you crossing of yourself? Well, use that trick no more, I would advise you.

\2he Pope crosses himself again.

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS. 45

Well, there's the second time. Aware the third ; I give you fair warning.

[The Pope crosses himself agaifi, and Faustus hits him a box of the ear ; and they all run away. Come on, Mephistophilis ; what shall we do ?

Meph. Nay, I know not : we shall be cursed with bell, book, and candle. [bell, —

Faust. How! bell, book, and candle, — candle, book, and Forward and backward, to curse Faustus to hell ! Anon you shall hear a hog grunt, a calf bleat, and an ass bray, Because it is Saint Peter's holiday.

Re-enter all the Friars to sing the Dirge.

First Friar. Come, brethren, let's about our business with good devotion. \_They sing.

Cursed be he that stole away his Holiness' meat from the table !'

maledicat Dominus ! Cursed be he that struck his Holiness a blow on the face !

maledicat Dominus !

Cursed be he that took Friar Sandelo a blow on the pate I

maledicat Dominus ! [Dominus 1

Cursed be he that disturbeth our holy dirge I maledicat

Cursed be he that took aivay his Holiness' ivine f maledicat

Dominus !

Et omnes Sancti 1 Amen ! [Mephistophilis a^id Falstus beat the Friars, and fing fire-works among them ; and so exeunt.

46 FAUSTUS. [act IV.

ACT IV.

Enter Chorus.

Chor. When Faustus had with pleasure ta'en^ the view Of rarest things, and royal courts of kings, He stay'd his course, and so returned home ; Where such as bear his absence but with grief, I mean his friends and near'st companions, Did gratulate his safety with kind words, And in their conference of what befell, Touching his journey through the world and air, They put forth questions of astrology. Which Faustus answer'd with such learned skill . As they admir'd and wonder'd at his wit. Now is his fame spread forth in every land; Amongst the rest the Emperor is one, Carolus the Fifth, at whose palace now Faustus is feasted 'mongst his noblemen. What there he did, in trial of his art, I leave untold ; your eyes shall see['t] perform'd.

[Exit Scene I.

E?tier Robin, the Ostler, with a hook in his hand.

Rohin. O, this is admirable ! here I ha' stolen one of

SCENE I.] FAVSTUS. 47

Doctor Faustus' conjuring books, and, iTaitli, I mean to search some circles for my own use.

Enter Ralph, calling Robin.

Ralph. Robin, prithee, come away ; there's a gentleman tarries to have his horse, and he would have his things rubbed and made clean : he keeps such a chafing with my mistress about it ; and she has sent me to look thee out ; prithee, come away.

Robin. Keep out, keep out, or else you are blown up, you are dismembered, Ralph : keep out, for I am about a roaring piece of work.

Ralph. Come, what doest thou with that same book? thou canst not read ?

Robin. Yes, my master and mistress shall find that I can read.

Ralph. Why, Robin, what book is that ?

Robin. What book ! why, the most intolerable book for conjuring that e'er was invented by any brimstone devil.

Ralph. Canst thou conjure with it ?

Robin. I can do all these things easily with it ; first, I can make thee drunk with ippocras at any tabern in Europe for nothing ; that's one of my conjuring works.

Ralph. Our Master Parson says that's nothing.

Robin. True, Ralph : and more, Ralph, if thou hast any mind to Nan Spit, our kitchen-maid^ thou shalt have her.

48 FAUSTUS. [act iv.

Ralph. O, brave, Robin ! shall I have Nan Spit ? On that condition I'll feed thy devil with horse-bread as long as he lives, of free cost.

Kobin. No more, sweet Ralph : let's go and make clean our boots, which lie foul upon our hands, and then to our conjuring in the devil's name. [ Examt-

Scene II.

^;//<?/" Robin and Ralph with a silver goblet.

Robin. Come, Ralph ! did not I tell thee, we were for ever made by this Doctor Faustus' book ? ecce^ sigmunl here's a simple purchase for horse-keepers; our horses shall eat no hay as long as this lasts.

Ralph. But, Robin, here comes the Vintner.

Robin. Hush ! I'll gull him supernaturally.

Enter Vintner.

Drawer, I hope all is paid ; God be with you ! — Come, Ralph.

Vint. Soft, sir ; a word with you. I must yet have a goblet paid from you, ere you go.

Robin. I a goblet, Ralph, I a goblet ! — I scorn you ; and you are but a, &c. I a goblet ! search me.

Vint. I mean so, sir, with your favour.

\^SearcJies Robin.

SCENE 1 1. 1 FAUsrus.

49

Rohi7i. How say you now ?

Vini. I must say somewhat to your fellow. — You, sir!

Ralph. Me, sir ! me, sir ! search your fill. [Vintner searches Jiim.\ Now, sir, you may be ashamed to burden honest men with a ma4;ter of truth.

Vint. Well, tone of you hath this goblet about you.

Rohiii. You lie, drawer, 'tis afore me [Aside]. — Sirrah you, I'll teach you to impeach honest men ; — stand by ; — I'll scour you for a goblet ; — stand aside you had best, I charge you in the name of Eelzebub. — Look to the goblet, Ralph [Aside to Ralph].

Vint. What mean you, sirrah ?

Robin. I'll tell you v/hat I mean. [Reads from a book.] Saridobulorum FeripJirasticon — nay, I'll tickle you. Vintner. — Look to the goblet, Ralph [Aside to Ralph]. — [Reads] Polypragmos Belseborains framanto pacostiphos tostu, MepJiis- tophilis, &c.

Enter Mephistophilis, sets squibs at their backs, and then exit. TJiey run about.

Vint. O, nomine Domini ! what meanest thou, Robin ? thou hast no goblet,

Ralph. Peccatum peccatorum I — Here's thy goblet, good Vintner. [Gives the goblet to Vintner, laho exit.

Robin. Misericordia pro 7iobis I what shall I do ? Good devil, forgive me now, and I'll never rob thy library more.

50 FAUSTUS, [act IV

He-enter Mephistophilis.

Meph. Monarch of hell, under whose black survey Great potentates do kneel with awful fear, Upon whose altars thousand souls do lie, How am I vexed with these villains' charms ? From Constantinople am I hither come, Only for pleasure of these damned slaves.

Rohi7i. How, from Constantinople ! you have had a great journey : will you take sixpence in your purse to pay for your supper, and be gone ?

Meph. Well, villains, for your presumption, I transform thee into an ape, and thee into a dog ; and so begone.

\Exit,

Robin. How, into an ape ! that's brave : I'll have fine sport with the boys ; I'll get nuts and apples enow.

Ralph. And I must be a dog.

Robin. I'faith, thy head will never be out of the pottage- pot. [Exeunt.

Scene III. Enter Emperor, Faustus, a?id a Knight, tvith Attendants. Enip. Master Doctor Faustus, I have heard strange re- port of thy knowledge in the black art, how that none in my empire nor in the whole world can compare with thee for the rare effects of magic : they say thou hast a familiar spirit, by whom thou canst accomplish what thou list. This

■ SCENE III.] FA US TC/S, 5 1

therefore, is my request, that thou let me see some proof of thy skill, that mine eyes may be witnesses to confirm what mine ears have heard reported : and here I swear to thee, by the honour of mine imperial crown, that, whatever thou doest, thou shalt be no ways prejudiced or endamaged.

Ktiight^ Tfaith he looks much like a conjuror. \Aside.

Faust. My gracious sovereign, though I must confess myself far inferior to the report men have published, and nothing answerable to the honour of your imperial majesty, yet, for that love and duty binds me thereunto, I am content to do whatsoever your majesty shall command me.

Emp. Then, Doctor Faustus, mark what I shall say. As I was sometime solitary set Within my closet, sundry thoughts arose About the honour of mine ancestors, How they had won by prowess such exploits, Got such riches, subdu'd so many kingdoms, As we that do succeed, or they that shall Hereafter possess our throne, shall (I fear me) ne'er attain to that degree Of high renown and great authority : Amongst which kings is Alexander the Great, Chief spectacle of the world's pre-eminence. The bright shining of whose glorious acts Lightens the world with his reflecting beams, As when I hear but motion made of him, It grieves my soul I never saw the man.

52 FAUSTUS, [act IV.

If, therefore, thou, by cunning of thine art, Canst raise this man from hollow vaults below, Where lies entomb'd this famous conqueror, And bring with him his beauteous paramour, Both in their right shapes, gesture, and attire They us'd to wear during their time of life, Thou shalt both satisfy my just desire, And give me cause to praise thee whilst I live.

Fausi. My gracious lord, I am ready to accomplish your request, so far forth as by art and power of my spirit I am able to perform.

Knight. I'faith, thafs just nothing at all. ' \Aside.

Faust. But, if it like your Grace, it is not in my ability to present before your eyes the true substantial bodies of those two deceased princes,' which long since a-re consumed to dust.

Knight. Ay, marry, Master Doctor, now there's a sign of grace in you, when you will confess the truth. \Aside.

FiVist. But such spirits as can lively resemble Alexander and his paramour shall appear before your Grace, in that manner that they both Hved in, in their -most flourishing estate; which I doubt not shall sufficiently content your imperial majesty.

Evip. Go to. Master Doctor ; let me see tliem presently.

Knight. Do you hear, Master Doctor? you bring Alex- ander and his paramour before the Emperor!

Faust. Hov\^>then, sir?

SCENE ni.] FAUSTUS. ■ 53

lOiig/if. I'faith, that's as true as Diana turned me to a stag.

Fausf. No, sir; but, when Actxon died, he left the horns for you. — MephistophiUs, begone.

\Exit Mephistophilis. Knight. Nay, an' you go to conjuring, I'll begone.

{Exit. Faust. I'll meet with you anon for interrupting me so. — Here they are, my gracious lord. /

! Re-enter Mephistophilis, with Spirits in the shapes of

Alexander and his Paramour. j

Emp. "Master Doctor, T heard this lady, Avhile she lived, had a wart or mole in her neck : how shall I know whether it be so or no ? «

Faust. Your highness may boldly go and see.

Evip. Sure these are no spirits, but the true substantial bodies of those two deceased princes. \_Exeunt Spirits.

Faust. Wilt please your highness now to send for the knight that was so pleasant with me here of late ?

Emp. One of you call him forth. \Exit Attendant.

Re-enter the Knight, ivith a pair of horns on his head.

How now, sir knight ! Feel on thy head.

Knight. Thou damned wretch and cxecral Bred in the concave of some monstrous rock

54 FAUSTUS. [act IV.

How dar'st thou thus abuse a gentleman ? Villain, I say, undo what thou hast done !

Fatist. O, not so fast, sir ! there's no haste : but, good, are you remembered how you crossed me in my conference with the Emperor ? I think I have met with you for it.

Fvip. Good Master Doctor, at my entreaty release him : he hath done penance sufficient.

Faust My gracious lord, not so much for the injury he offered me here in your presence, as to dehght you with some mirth, hath Faustus worthily requited this injurious knight ; which being all I desire, I am content to release him of his horns :^and, sir knight, hereafter speak well of scholars. — Mephistophilis, transform him straight. [Mephis- TOPHiLis refHoves the horns.'] Now, my good lord, having done my duty, I humbly take my leave.

F7np. Farewell, master Doctor ; yet, ere you go, expect from me a bounteous reward.

[Exetmi Emperor, Knight, a?id Attendants.

Scene IV.

Faustus ajid Mephistophilis.

Faust. Now, Mephistophilis, the restless course That time doth run with calm and silent foot, Shortening my days and thread of vital life, Calls for the payment of my latest years ;

SCENE IV.] FAUSTUS. 55

Therefore, sweet Mephistophilis, let us Make haste to Wertenberg.

Meph. What, will you go on horseback or on foot ?

Fiwst. Nay, till I'm past this fair and pleasant green, I'll walk on foot.

Enhr a Horse-courser.

Horse-courser. I have been all this day seeking one Master Fustian : mass, see where he is !— God save you> Master Doctor !

Faust. What, horse-courser! you are well met.

Horse-c. Do you hear, sir? I have brought you forty dollars for your horse.

Faust. I cannot sell him so ; if thou likest him for fifty, take him.

Horse-c. Alas, sir, I have no more ! — I pray you, speak for me.

Meph. I pray you, let him have him : he is an honest fellow, and he has a great charge, neither wife nor child.

Faust. Well, come, give me your money [Horse-courser gives Faustus the money\ : my boy will deliver him to you. But I must tell you one thing before you have him ; ride him not into the water, at any hand.

Horse-c. Why, sir, will he not drink of all waters ?

Faust. O, yes, he will drink of all waters ; but ride him not

56 FAUSTUS. [act iv.

into the water : ride him over hedge or ditch, or \vhere thou wilt, but not into the water.

Horse-c. Well, sir. — Now I am a made man for ever ; Til not leave my horse for forty. Well, God b'wi'ye, sir : your boy will deliver him me : but, hark you, sir ; if my horse be sick or ill at ease, you'll tell me what it is?

Faust. Away, you villain ! what, dost think I am a horse- doctor? [^j\:// Horse-courser, What art thou, Faustus, but a man condemn'd to die ? Thy fatal time doth draw to final end ; Despair doth drive distrust into my thoughts : Confound these passions with a quiet sleep : Tush, Christ did call the thief upon the Cross ; Then rest thee, Faustus^ quiet in conceit.

\Sleeps ifi /lis chair.

Reenter Horse-courser, all wet, crying.

Horse- courser. AlaS; alas. Doctor Fustian, quotha? mass, Dr. Lopus was never such a doctor : has given me a purgation, has purged me of forty dollars ; I shall never see them more. But yet, like an ass as I was, I would not be ruled by him, for he bade me I should ride him into no water : now I, thinking my horse had had some rare quality that he would not have had me know of, I, like a venturous youth, rid him mto the deep pond at the town's end. I was no sooner in

SCENE IV.] FAUSTUS. S7

the middle of the pond, but my horse vanished away, and I sat upon a bottle of hay, never so near drowning in my Ufe. But I'll seek out my doctor, and have my forty dollars again, or I'll make it the dearest horse !— O, yonder is his snipper-snapper. — Do you hear? you, heypass, where's your master?

Mep/i. Why, sir, what would you ? you cannot speak with him.

Horse-c. But I will speak with him. Meph. Why, he's fast asleep : come so.me other time. Horse-c. I'll speak with him now, or I'll break his glass- windows about his ears.

Meph. I tell thee, he has not slept these eight nights. Horse-c. An' he have not slept these eight weeks, I'll speak with him.

Meph. See, where he is, fast asleep. Horse-c. Ay, this is he. — God save ye. Master Doctor^ Master Doctor, Master Doctor Fustian ! forty dollars, forty dollars for a bottle of hay !

Meph. Why, thou seest he hears thee not. Horse-c. So-ho, ho ! so-ho, ho ! \Holloivs hi his ear."] No, will you not wake? I'll make you wake ere I go. [Pulls Faustus by the leg, and pulls it a7aay.] Alas, I am undone ! what shall I do ?

Faust. O, my leg, my leg ! — Help, Mephistophilis ! call the officers. — My leg, my leg !

Meph. Come, villain, to the constable.

SB FAUSTUS. [act IV.

Horse-c, O Lord, sir, let me go, and I'll give you forty dollars more 1

Meph. Where be they ?

Horse-c. 1 have none about me : come to my ostry, and I'll give them you.

Meph. Begone quickly. [Horse-courser runs away.

Faust. What, is he gone ? farewell he ! Faustus has hi leg again, and the Horse-courser, I take it, a bottle of ha for his labour : well, this trick shall cost him forty dollars more.

Enter Wagner.

How now, W'agner ! what's the news with thee ?

Wag. Sir, the Duke of Vanholt doth earnestly entreat your company.

Faust. The Duke of Vanholt ! an honourable gentleman, to whom I must be no niggard of my cunning. — Come, Mephistophilis, let's away to him. \Excu?it.

Scene V. Enter the Duke of Vanholt, the Duchess and Faustus.

Duke. Believe me, Master Doctor, this merriment hath much pleased me.

Faust. My gracious lord, I am glad it contents you so well. — But it may, be, madam, you take no delight in this. I have heard that at times women do loner fo/ some

SCENE v.] FAUSTUS. 59

dainties or other : what is it, madam ? Tell me, and you shall have it.

Duchess. Thanks, good Master Doctor; and, for I see your courteous intent to pleasure me, I will not hide from you the thing my heart desires ; and, were it now summer, as it is January and the dead time of the winter, I would desire no better meat than a dish of ripe grapes.

Fatisi. Alas, madam, that's nothing ! — Mephistophilis, be gone! \Exit Mephistophilis.] Were it a greater thing than this, so it would content you, you should have it.

Re-enter Mephistophilis with grapes.

Here they be, madam : wilt please you taste on them ?

Diike. Believe me, Master Doctor, this makes me wonder above the rest, that being in the dead time of winter, and in the month of January, how you should come by these grapes.

Faust. If it like your Grace, the year is divided into two circles over the whole world, that, when it is here winter with us, in the contrary circle it is summer with them, as in India, Saba, and farther countries in the east ; and by means of a swift spirit that I have, I had them brought hither, as you see. — How do you like them, madam ? Be they good?

Duchess. Believe me. Master Doctor, they be the best grapes that e'er I tasted in my life before.

Faust. I am glad they content you so, madam.

6o FAUSTUS. [actv.

Dtike. Come, madam, let us in, where you must well reward this learned man for the great kindness he hath shewed to you.

Duchess. And so I will, my lord ; and, whilst I live, rest beholding for this courtesy. .

Faust. I humbly thank your Grace.

Duke. Come, Master Doctor, follow us, and receive your reward. , {Exeunt.

ACT V.

Scene I.

Enter Wagner.

Wag. I think my master means to die shortly, For he hath given to me all his goods : And yet, methinks, if that death were near, He would not banquet, and carouse, and swill Amongst the students, as even now he doth, Who are at supper with such belly-cheer As Wagner ne'er beheld in all his life. See, where they come ! belike the feast is ended. \Exit,

Enter Faustus tvith two or three Scholars, and Mephistophilis.

First Schol. Master Doctor Faustus, since our conference about fair ladies, which was the beautifulest in all the world, we have determined with ourselves that Helen of Greece

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS. 6i

was the admirablest lady that ever lived ; therefore, Master Doctor, if you will do us that favour, as to let us see that peerless dame of Greece, whom all the world admires for majesty, we should think ourselves much beholding unto you.

Faust, Gentlemen, For that I know your friendship is unfeign'd, And Faustus's custom is not to deny The just request of those that wish him well, You shall behold that peerless dame of Greece, No otherways for pomp and majesty Than when Sir Paris cross'd the seas with her, And brought the spoils to rich Dardania. Be silent, then, for danger is in words.

[^Micsic sounds, and Helen /^j-.f,?/// over the stage.

Sec. Schol. Too simple is my wit to tell her praise, Whom all the world admires for majesty.

Third Schol. No marvel though the angry Greeks pursu'd With ten years' war the rape of such a queen. Whose heavenly beauty passeth all compare.

First Schol. Since we have seen the pride of Nature's works, And only paragon of excellence, Let us depart ; and for this glorious deed Happy and blest be Faustus evermore.

Faust. Gentlemen, farewell : the same I wish to you.

\Exeuni Scholars.

62 FAUSTUS. [actv.

Enter an Old Man.

Old Man. Ah, Doctor Faustus, that I might prevail To guide thy steps unto the way of life, By which sweet path thou mayst attain the goal That shall conduct thee to celestial rest ! Break heart, drop blood, and mingle it with tears, Tears falling from repentant heaviness Of thy most vile and loathsome filthiness. The stench whereof corrupts the inward soul With such flagitious crimes of heinous sin As no commiseration may expel, But mercy, Faustus, of thy Saviour sweet, Whose blood alone must wash away thy guilt.

Faust. Where art thou, Faustus ? wretch, what hast thou done? Damn'd art thou, Faustus, damn'd ; despair and die ! Hell calls for right, and with a roaring voice Says, " Faustus, come ; thine hour is almost come i^ And Faustus now will come to do thee right.

[Mephistophilis gives him a dagger.

Old Ma?i. Ah, stay, good Faustus, stay thy desperate stabs ! I see an angel hovers o'er thy head, And, with a vial full of precious grace, Offers to pour the same into thy soul : Then call for mercy, and avoid despair.

Faust, Ah, my sweet friend, I feel ;,

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS. 63

Thy words to comfort my distressed soul ! Leave me awhile to ponder on my sins.

Old Mail. I go, sweet Faustus ; but with heavy cheer, Fearing the ruin of thy hapless soul. \Exit,

Faust. Accursed Faustus, where is mercy now ? I do repent ; and yet I do despair : Hell strives with grace for conquest in my breast : What shall I do to shun the snares of death ?

Meph. Thou traitor, Faustus, I arrest thy soul For disobedience to my sovereign lord : Revolt, or I'll in piece-meal tear thy flesh.

Faust. Sweet Mephistophilis, entreat thy lord To pardon my unjust presumption. And with my blood again I will confirm My former vow I made to Lucifer.

Meph. Do it, then, quickly, with unfeigned heart, Lest greater danger do attend thy drift.

Faust. Torment, sweet friend, that base and crooked age, That durst dissuade me from thy Lucifer, With greatest torments that our hell affords.

Me;ph. His faith is great ; I cannot touch his soul ; But what I may afflict his body with I will attempt, which is but little worth.

Faust. One thing, good servant, let me crave of thee^ To glut the longing of my heart's desire, — That I might have unto my paramour That heavenly Helen which I saw of late,

64 ^^ USTUS. [act v.

Whose sweet embracings may extinguish clean Those thoughts that do dissuade me from my vow, And keep mine oath I made to Lucifer.

Mepk. Faustus, this, or what else thou shalt desire, Shall be perform'd in twinkling of an eye.

Re-enter Helen.

Faust. Was this the face that launcli'd a thousand ships^ And burnt the topless towers of Ilium ? — Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss. — {^Kisses her. Her lips suck forth my soul : see, where it flies 1 — Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again. Here wi 11 I dwell, for heaven is in these lips, And all is dross that is not Helena. I will be Paris, and for love of thee, Instead of Troy, shall Wertenberg be sacked 5 And I will combat with weak Menelaus, And wear thy colours on my plumed crest ; Yea, I will wound Achilles in the heel, And then return to Helen for a kiss. O, thou art fairer than the evening air Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars ; Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter When he appeared to hapless Semele ; More lovely than the monarch cf the sky In wanton Arethusa's azur'd arms ; And none but thou shalt be my paramour / \Exeuni,

SCENE III.] FAUSTUS, 65

Scene II. E7iter the Old Man. Old Man. Accursed Faiistus, miserable man, That from thy soul exclud'st the grace of heaven, And fly'st the throne of his tribunal seat !

Enter Devils. '

Satan begins to sift me with his pride : As in this furnace God shall try my faith, My faith, vile hell, shall triumph over thee. Ambitious fiends, see how the heavens smile At your repulse, and laugh your state to scorn ! Hence, hell ! for hence I fly unto my God.

[Exeunt — on one side Devils, o?i the other, Old Man,

Scene III. Enter Faustus, with Scholars. Faust. Ah, gentlemen ! First Schol. What ails Faustus?

Faust. Ah, my sweet chamber-fellow, had I lived with thee, then had I lived still ! but now I die eternally. Look, comes he not ? comes he not ? Sec. Schol. What means Faustus ?

Third Schol. Belike he is grown into some sicknes3 by being over-solitary.

First Schol. If it be so, we'll have physicians lO cure him. — 'Tis but a surfeit ; never fear, man.

C

66 FA US TV'S. [act v. .

Faust. A surfeit of deadly sin, that hath damned both body and soul.

Sec. Schol. Yet, Faustus, look up to heaven ; remember God's mercies are infinite.

Faust. But Faustus's oftence can ne'er be pardoned : the serpent that tempted Eve may be saved, but not Faustus. Ah, gentlemen, hear me with patience, and tremble not at my speeches ! Though my heart pants and quivers to remember that I have been a student here these thirty years, O, would I had never seen Wertenberg, never read book ! and what wonders I have done, all Germany can witness, yea, all the world ; for which Faustus hath lost both Germany and the world, yea, heaven itself, heaven, the seat, of God, the throne of the blessed, the kingdom of joy; and must remain in hell for ever, hell, ah, hell, for ever ! Sweet friends, what shall become of Faustus, being in hell for ever ?

Third Schol. Yet, Faustus, call on God.

Faust. On God, whom Faustus hath abjured ! on God, whom Faustus hath blasphemed ! Ah, my God, I would weep ! but the devil draws in my tears. Gush forth blood, instead of tears ! yea, life and soul ! O, he stays my tongue ! I would lift up my hands ; but see, they hold them, they hold them !

AIL Who, Faustus ?

Faust. Lucifer and Mephistophilis. Ah, gentlemen, I gave them my soul for my cunning !

SCENE III.] FAUSTUS. 67

AIL God forbid !

Faiisf. God forbade it, indeed ; but Faustus hath done it : for vain pleasure of twenty-four years hath Faustus lost eternal joy and felicity. I writ them a bill with mine own blood : the date is expired ; the time will come, and he will fetch me.

First SchoL Why did not Faustus tell us of this before, that divines might have prayed for thee ?

Fatist Oft have I thought to have done so ; but the devil threatened to tear me in pieces, if I named God, to fetch both body and soul, if I once gave ear to divinity : and now 'tis too late. Gentlemen, away, lest you perish with me.

Sec. SchoL O, what shall we do to save Faustus ?

FausL Talk not of m.e, but save yourselves, and depart.

Third SchoL God will strengthen me; I will stay with Faustus.

First SchoL Tempt not God, sweet friend ; but let us into the next room, and there pray for him.

Faust. Ay, pray for me, pray for me ; and what noise soever ye hear, come not unto me, for nothing can rescue me.

Sec. SchoL Pray thou, and we will pray that God may have mercy upon thee.

Faust. Gentlemen, farewell : if I live till morning, I'll visit you ; if not^ Faustus is gone to hell.

AIL Faustus, farev/elL

{Exeunt Scholars. — The clock strikes eleven.

0 2

68 FAUSTUS. [act V.

FausT. Ah, Faustus, Now hast thou but one bare hour to live, And then thou must be damn'd perpetually \ Stand still j you ever-moving spheres of heaven, That time may cease, and midnight never come; Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again, and make Perpetual day ; or let this hour be but A year, a month, a week, a natural day. That Faustus may repent and save his soul ! O lente^ lenie currite^ fioctis equi ! The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike, The devil will come, and Faustus must be damn'd. O, I'll leap up to my God ! — Who pulls me down ? — See, see, where Christ's blood streams in the firmament ! One drop would save my soul, half a drop : ah, my

Christ !— Ah, rend not my heart for naming of my Christ ! Yet will I call on him : O, spare me, Lucifer ! -^ Where is it now ? 'tis gone : and see, where God Stretcheth out his arm, and bends his ireful brows \ Mountains and hills, come, come, and fall on me, And hide me from the heavy wrath of God ! No, no !

Then will I headlong run into the earth : Earth, gape ! O, no, it will not harbour me ! You stars that reign'd at my nativity, Whose influence hath allotted death and hell,

SCENE III.] FAUSTUS, 69

Now draw up Faustus, like a foggy mist, Into the entrails of yon labouring cloud[s], That, when you vomit forth into the air, ]\Iy limbs may issue from your smoky mouths, So that my soul may but ascend to heaven !

[The clock strikes the Jia'lf-hour. Ah^ half the hour is past ! 'twill all be past anon. OGod,

If thou wilt not have mercy on my soul, Yet for Christ's sake^ whose blood hath ransom'd me, Impose some end to my incessant pain ; Let Faustus live in hell a thousand years, A hundred thousand, and at last be sav'd ! O, no end is limited to damned souls ! Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul ? Or why is this immortal that thou hast ? Ah, Pythagoras' metempsychosis, were that true, This soul should fly from me, and I be chang'd Unto some brutish beast ! all beasts are happy, For, when they die,

Their souls are soon dissolv'd in elements ; But mine must live still to be plagu'd in hell. Curs'd be the parents that engender'd me ! No, Faustus, curse thyself, curse Lucifer That hath depriv'd thee of the joys of heaven.

\The clock strikes tivelve. O, it strikes, it strikes 1 Now, body, turn to air,

70 FAUSTUS. [actv.

Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell !

\Thunder and lightning, O soul, be chaiig'd into little water-drops, And fail into the ocean, ne'er be found !

Enter Devils.

My God, my God, look not so fierce on me ! Adders and serpents, let me breathe a while ! Ugly hell, gape not ! come not, Lucifer ! I'll burn my books ! — Ah, Mephistophilis !

\Exeiint Devils with Faustus.

Enter Choru§.

Chor. Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight. And burned is Apollo's laurel-bough, That sometime grew within this learned man. Faustus is gone : regard his hellish fall. Whose fiendful fortune may exhort the wise, Only to wonder at unlawful things^ Whose deepness doth entice such forward wits To practise more than heavenly power permits. {Exit.

T^rminat hcra diem ; terminat auctor opis.

Fa u s t.

PRELUDE AT THE THEATRE.

Manager. Dramatic Poet. Mr. Merryman.

Manager. My two good friends, on whom I have depended, At all times to assist me and advise ; Aid your old friend once more — to-night he tries (And greatly fears the fate that may attend it) For German lands a novel enterprise. To please the public I am most desirous ; *' Live and let live," has ever been their maxim, Gladly they pay the trifle that we tax 'em, And gratitude should with new zeal inspire us. Our temporary theatre's erected. Planks laid, posts raised, and something is expected. Already have the audience ta'en their station, With eye-brows lifted up in expectation ; Thoughtful and tranquil all — with hopes excited, Disposed to be amused — amazed — delighted ! I know the people's taste — their whims—caprices, Could always get up popular new pieces ; But never have I been before so harassed As now — so thoroughly perplext, embarrassed !

72 FAUST.

Every one reads so much of every thing : The books they read are not the best, 'tis true : JBut then they are for ever reading — reading ! This being so, how can we hope to bring Any thing out, that shall be good and new ? What chance of now as formerly succeeding?

How I delight to see the people striving To force their way into our crowded booth, Pouring along, and fighting, nail and tooth, Digging with elbows, through the passage driving, As if it were St. Peter's gate, and leading To something more desirable than Eden ; Long before four, while daylight's strong as ever, All hurrying to the box of the receiver. Breaking their necks for tickets — thrusting — ^jamming, As at a baker's door in time of famine !

On men so various in their disposition, So different in manners — rank — condition ; How is a miracle like this effected ? The poet — he alone is the magician. On thee, my friend, we call — from thee expect it.

Poet. Oh, tell me not of the tumultuous crowd, My powers desert me in the noisy throng ; Hide, hide from me the multitude, whose loud And dizzy whirl would hurry me along AgaiiTist my will ; and lead me to some lone

FA UST.

And silent vale — some scene in fairy-land,

There only will the poet's heart expand,

Surrendered to the impulses of song,

Lost in delicious visions of its own,

Where Love and Friendship o'er the heart at rest

Watch through the flowing hours, and we are blest !

Thoughts by the soul conceived in silent joy, Sounds often muttered by the timid voice, Tried by the nice ear, delicate of choice, Till we at last are pleased, or self-deceived, The whole a rabble's madness may destroy ; And this, when, after toil of many years, Touched and retouched, the perfect piece appears To challenge praise, or win unconscious tears, As the vain heart too easily beHeved ; Some sparkling, showy thing, got up in haste. Brilliant and light, will catch the passing taste. The truly great, the genuine, the sublime Wins its slow way in silence ; and the bard, Unnoticed long, receives from after-time The imperishable wreath, his best, his sole reward !

Mr. Merry. Enough of this cold cant of future ages, And men hereafter doting on- your pages ; To prattle thus of other times is pleasant, And all the while neglect our own, the present. Why, what if I too — Mister Merryman —

n

74 FAUST.

In my vocation acted on your plan ?

If on the unborn we squander our exertion,

Who will supply the living with diversion ?

And, clamour as you, authors, may about it,

They want amusement — will not go without it ;

Just look at me, a fine young dashing fellow —

My very face works wonders, let me tell you ; —

Now my way, for your guidance I may mention —

Please but yourself, and feel no apprehension.

The crowd will share the feelings of the poet,

The praise he seeks they liberally bestow it :

The more that come, the better for the writer.

Each flash of wit is farther felt — seems brighter,

And every little point appreciated,

By some one in the circle over-rated.

All is above its value estimated : '

Take courage then, — come — now for a chef-d^oetivre —

To make a name — to live, and live for ever —

Call Fancy up, with her attendant troop,

Reason and Judgment, Passion, Melancholy,

Wit, Feeling, and among the choral group

Do not forget the little darling, Folly !

Manager. But above all, give them enough of action \ He who gives most, will give most satisfaction ; They come to see a shoiv — no work whatever, Unless it be a show, can win their favour ; Then, as they wish it, let them gape and stare ; —

FAUST. 75

Crowd scene on scene— enough and still to spare. A show is what they want ; they love and pay for it ; Spite of its serious parts, sit through a play for it \ And he who gives one is a certain favourite ; Would you please many, you must give good measure ; Then each finds something in't to yield him pleasure ; The more you give, the greater sure your chance is To please, by varying scenes, such various fancies. The interest of a piece, no doubt, increases Divided thus, and broken into pieces. We want a dish to hit the common taste; Then hash it up and serve it out in haste ! And, for my part, methinks it little matters : Though you may call your work a finished whole, The public soon will tear this whole to tatters, And but on piecemeal parts their praises dole.

Poet. You cannot think how very mean a task, How humbling to the genuine artist's mind, To furnish such a drama as you ask : The poor pretender's bungling tricks, I find, Are now established as the rules of trade, — Receipts — by which successful plays are made !

Manager. Such an objection is of little weight Against my reasoning. If a person chooses To work effectively, no doubt he uses The instrument that's most appropriate. Your play may — for your audience — be too good \ —

76 FAUST.

Coarse lumpish logs are they of clumsy wood— Blocks — with the hatchet only to be hewed ! — One comes to drive away ennui or spleen ; Another, with o'erloaded paunch from table ; A third, than all the rest less tolerable, From reading a review or magazine. Hither all haste, anticipate delight, As to a Masque, desire each face illuming, And each, some novel character assuming, Place for awhile their own half out of sight. The ladies, too, tricked out in brilliant gear, Themselves ambitious actresses appear, And, though unpaid, are still performers here. What do you dream in your poetic pride ? Think you a full house can be satisfied And every auditor an ardent cheerer ? Pray, only look at them a little nearer; One half are cold spectators, inattentive ; The other dead to every fine incentive ; One fellow's thinking of a game of cards ; One on a wild night of intoxication : Why court for such a set the kind regards Of the coy Muse — her highest fascination ? I tell thee only, give enough — enough ; Still more and more - no matter of what stuff; You cannot go astray ; let all your views Be only for the moment to amuse,

FAUST,

To keep them in aniazement or distraction ; Man is incapable cf satisfaction. Why, what affects you thus — is't inspiration ? A reverie ? — ah ! can it be vexation ?

Poet. Go, and elsewhere some fitter servant find ; What ! shall the poet squander then away, For thy poor purposes, himself, his mind. Profane the gift, which Nature, when she gave To him, to him entrusted for mankind, — Their birthright — thy poor bidding to obey. And sink into an humble trading slave ? Whence is his power all human hearts to win, And why can nothing his proud march oppose, As through all elements the conqueror goes ? Oh, is it not the harmony within, The music, that hath for its dwelling-place His own rich soul ? — the heart that can receive Again into itself, again embrace The world it clothed with beauty and bade live ? With unregarding hand when Nature throws Upon the spindle the dull length of thread, That on, still on, in weary sameness flows, When all things, that in unison agreeing, Should join to form the happy web of Being, Are tangled in inextricable strife : Who can awake the blank monotony To measured order? Who upon the dead

77

78 FAUST.

Unthinking chaos breathe the charm of life, Restore the dissonant to harmony, And bid the jarring individual be A chord, that, in the general consecration. Bears part with all in musical relation ? Who to the tempest's rage can give a voice Like human passion ? bid the serious mind Glow with the colouring of the sunset hours ? Who in the dear path scatter spring's first flowers, When wanders forth the ladye of his choice ? Who of the valueless green leaves can bind A wreath — the artist's proudest ornament — Or, round the conquering hero's brow entwined The best reward his country can present ? Whose voice is fame ? who gives us to inherit Olympus, and the loved Elysian field ? The soul of MAN subHmed — man's soaring spirit Seen in the poet, gloriously revealed.

Mr. Merry. A poet yet should regulate his fancies. Like that of life should get up his romances ; First a chance meeting — then the young folk tarry Together — toy and trifle, sigh and marry, Are link'd for ever, scarcely half intending it. Once met — 'tis fixed — no changing and no mending it. Thus a romance runs : fortune, then reverses ; Rapture, then coldness ; bridal dresses — hearses ; The lady dying — letters from the lover,

FA UST. 79

And, ere you think of it, the thing is over. Shift your scenes rapidly ', write fast and gaily, Give, in your play, the life we witness daily ; The life which all men live, yet few men notice. Yet which will please ('tis very strange, but so 'tis), Will please, when forced again on their attention, More than the wonders of remote invention ; Glimmerings of truth — calm sentiment— smart strictures- Actors in bustle — clouds of moving pictures — The young will crowd to see a work, revealing Their own hearts to themselves ; in solitude Will feast on the remembered visions — stealing For frenzied passion its voluptuous food : Unbidden smiles and tears unconscious start. For oh ! the secrets of the poet's art. What are they but the dreams of the young heart? Oh ! 'tis the young enjoy the poet's mood, Float with him on imagination's wing, Think all his thoughts, are his in everything. Are, while they dream not of it, all they see : Youth— youth is the true time for sympathy. This is the sort of drink to take the town ; Flavour it to their taste, they gulp it down. Your true admirer is the generous spirit, Unformed, unspoiled, he feels all kindred merit As if of his own being it were part, And growing with the growth of his own heart ]

8o FAUST.

Feels gratitude, because he feels that truth

Is taught hun by the poet — this is Youth ;

Nothing can please your grown ones, they're so knowing,

And no one thanks the poet but the growing.

Poet. Give me, oh ! give me back the days When I — I too — was young — And felt, as they now feel, each coming hour New consciousness of power. Oh happy, happy time, above all praise ! Then thoughts on thoughts and crowding fancies sprung, And found a language in unbidden lays ; Unintermitted streams from fountains ever flowing. Then, as I wander'd free, In every field, for me Its thousand flowers were blowing !

A veil through which I did not see, A thin veil o'er the world wa.s thrown

In every bud a mystery ;

Magic in everything unknown : —

The fields, the grove, the air was haunted,

And all that age has disenchanted. Yes ! give me — give me back the days of youth. Poor, yet how rich ! — my glad inheritance The inextinguishable love of truth, While life's realities w^ere all romance — Give me, oh ! give youth's passions unconfined, The rush of joy that felt almost like pain.-

FAUST, 8r

Its hate, its love, its own tumultuous mind , — Give me my youth again !

Mr. Merry. Why, my dear friend, for youth thus sigh and prattle, 'Twould be a very good thing in a battle ; Or on your arm if a fine girl were leaning, Then, T admit, the wish would have some meaning ; In running for a bet, to clear the distance, A young man's sinews would be som.e assistance j Or if, after a dance, a man was thinking Of reeling out the night in glorious drinking ; But you have only among chords, well known Of the familiar harp, with graceful finger Freely to stray at large, or fondly linger, Courting some wandering fancies of your own ; While, with capricious windings and delays. Loitering, or lost in an enchanted maze Of sweet sounds, the rich melody, at will Gliding, here rests, here indolently strays, Is ever free, yet evermore obeys The hidden guide, thar journeys with it still. This is, old gentleman, your occupation. Nor think that it makes less our veneration. " Age," says the song, " the faculties bewildering, Renders men childish " — no ! it finds them children.

Man. Come, come, no more of this absurd inventory' Of flattering phrases — courteous — complimentary.

Sz FAUST.

You both lose time in words unnecessary,

Playing with language thus at fetch and carry ;

Think not of tuning now or preparation,

Strike up, my boy — no fear — no hesitation,

Till you commence no chance of inspiration.

But once assume the poet — then the fire

From heaven will come to kindle and inspire.

Strong drink is what we want to gull the people,

A hearty, brisk, and animating tipple ;

Come, come, no more delay, no more excuses.

The stuff we ask you for, at once produce us.

Lose this day loitering — 'twill be the same story

To-morrow — and the next more dilatory;

Then indecision brings its own delays.

And days are lost lamenting o'er lost days.

Are you in earnest ? seize this very minute —

What you can do, or dream you can, begin it,

Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.

Only engage, and then the mind grows heated —

Begin it, and the work will be completed !

You know our German bards, like bold adventurers,

Bring out whate'er they please, and laugh at censurers.

Then do not think to-day of sparing scenery —

Command enough of dresses and machinery ;

Use as yon please — fire, water, thunder, levin —

The greater and the lesser lights of heaven.

Squander away the stars at your free pleasure,

And build up rocks and mountains without measure.

FA UST. 83

Of birds and beasts we've plenty here to lavish,

Come, cast away all apprehensions slavish —

Strut, on our narrow stage, with lofty stature,

As moving through the circle of wide nature.

With swiftest speed, in calm thought weighing well

Each movement — move from heaven through earth to

HELL.

PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN,

Der Herr, the Heavenly Hosts, afterwards Mephistopheles.

The three Archangels come forward.

Raphael, The sun, as in the ancient days, ^Mong sister stars in rival song, His destined path observes, obeys. And still in thunder rolls along : New strength and full beatitude The angels gather from his sight. Mysterious all — yet all is good. All fair as at the birth of light !

Gabriel. Swift, unimaginably swift, Soft spins the earth, and glories bright Of mid-day Eden change and shift To shades of deep and spectral night. The vexed sea foams — waves leap and moan, And chide the rocks widi insult hoarse,

84 FAUST,

And wave and rock are hurried on, And suns and stars in endless course.

Michael. And winds with winds mad v/ar maintain, From sea to land, from land to sea ; And heave round earth, a living chain Of interwoven agency. — Guides of the bursting thunder-peal, Fast lightnings flash with deadly ray, While, Lord, with Thee thy servants feel Calm effluence of abiding day.

Al/. New strength and full beatitude The angels gather from thy sight ; Mysterious all, yet all is good, All fair as at the birth of light.

Meph. Since Thou, O Lord, dost visit us once more, To ask how things are going on, and since You have received me kindly heretofore, I venture to the levee of my prince. Pardon me, if I fail, after the sort Of bending courtiers here, to pay my court ; The company is far too fine for me, They smile with scorn such folk in heaven to see. High hymns and solemn words are not my forte. Pathos from me would look too like a joke ; Words, that from others had set angels weeping, To laughter would your very self provoke, If laughter were not wholly out of keeping.

FA [/ST. 85

Nothing of suns or worlds have I to say,

I only see how men fret on their day ;

The little god of earth is still the same

Strange thing he was, when first to life he came ;

That life were somewhat better, if the light

Of heaven had not been given to spoil him quite.

Reason he calls it — see its blessed fruit,

Than the brute beast man is a beastlier brute ;

He seems to me, if I may venture on

Such a comparison^ to be like one

Of those long lank-legged grasshoppers, whose song

The self-same creak, chirps, as they bound along,

Monotonous and restless in the grass,

'Twere well 'twas in grass always ; but, alas,

They thrust their snouts in every filth they pass.

Der Herr. Hast thou no more than this to say, Thou, who complainest every day ? Are all things evil in thy sight ? Does nothing on the earth move right?

Meph. Not anything, my lord — poor men so fervent And foolish are — I almost feel compassion.

Der Herr. Dost thou know Faust ?

Meph. The doctor ?

Der Herr. Yes; my servant.

Meph. Truly, he serves in a peculiar fashion; Child though he be of human birth, His food and drink are not of earth.

86 FAUST,

Foolish — even he at times will feel The folly in such hopes to deal :— His fancies hurry him afar ; Of heaven he asks its highest star ; Self-willed and spoiled, in mad pursuit^ Of earth demands its fairest fruit ; And all that both can give supplied, Behold him still unsatisfied !

Der Herr, Yes ; for he serves in a perplexing scene, That oft misleads him. Still his will is right; Soon comes the time to lead him into light. Now is the first prophetic green, The hopes and promises of spring. The unformed bud and blossoming ; And he who reared the tree and knows the clime Will seek and find fair fruit in fitting time.

Meph. What will you wager you don't lose him yet. With all his promise ? Had I only freedom On my own path with easy lure to lead him, I've not a doubt of it I win the bet.

Der Herr. As long as on the earth endures his life To deal with him have full and free permission ; JVEan's hour on earth is weakness, error, strife.

Meph. Cheerfully I agree to the condition ; I have no fancy for the dead : your youth, With full fresh cheeks^ tastes daintier to my tooth.

FAUST, 87

Should a corpse call, the answer at my house Is, " Not at home." My play is cat and mouse.

Be?' Herr. Be it permitted : from his source divert And draw this Spirit captive down with thee ; Till baffled and in shame thou dost admit, " A good man, clouded though his senses be By error, is no willing slave to it." His consciousness of good will it desert The good man ? — yea, even in his darkest hours Still doth he war with Darkness and the Povvers Of Darkness ; — for the light he cannot see Still round him feels ; — and, if he be not free, Struggles against this strange captivity.

Meph. Aye ! feelings that have no abiding- Short struggles — give him to my guiding— I cannot have a doubt about the bet. Oh ! in what triumph shall I crow at winning ! Dust he shall eat, and eat with pleasure yet. Like that first SNAKE in my poor heraldry, Who has been eating it from^ the beginning.

Der Herr. Here too take your own course— you are quite free In the concern, — with anything but loathing I look on folk like you. My work demands Such servants. Of the Spirits of Denial The pleasantest, that figures in Man's Trial^ Is Old Iniquity in his Fool's clothing \

88 FAUST,

The Vice is never heavy upon hands ; Without the Knave the Mystery were nothing. For Man's activity soon tires, (A lazy being at the best) And sting and spur requires. In indolent enjoyment Man would live, And this companion, whom I therefore give, Goads, urges, drives — is devil and cannot rest. But ye, pure sons of God, be yours the sight Of Beauty, each hour brighter and more bright ! The Life, in all around, below, above That ever lives and works — the rnfinite Enfold you in the happy bonds of love ! And all that flows unfixed and undefined In glimmering phantasy before the mind, Bid Thought's enduring chain for ever bind !

\Heaveii closes. The archangels disperse, Meph. \_alone\. I'm very glad to have it in m.y power To see him now and then ; he is so civil : I rather like our good old governor — Think only of his speaking to the devil !

Time, Night Scene, A hi^h-arched, narrow, Gothic chanihcr-^ Faust at his desk — restless. • Faust. Alas ! I have explored Philosophy, and Law, and Medicine ;

FAUST, Sg

And over deep Divinity have pored,

Studying with ardent and laborious zeal ;

And here I am at last, a very fool,

With useless learning curst,

No wiser than at first !

Here am I — boast and wonder of the school :

Magister, Doctor^ and I lead

These ten years past, my pupils' creed ;

Winding, by dexterous words, with ease,

Their opinions as I please.

And now to feel that nothing can be known !

This is a thought that burns into my heart.

I have been more acute than all these triflers,

Doctors and authors, priests, philosophers ;

Have sounded all the depths of every science.

Scruples, or the perplexity of doubt,

Torment me not, nor fears of hell or devih

But I have lost all peace of mind :

Whate'er I knew, or thought I knew,

Seen\s now unmeaning or untrue.

The fancy too has died away,

The hope, that I might, in my day,

Instruct, and elevate mankind.

Thus robbed of learning's only pleasure.

Without dominion, rank, or treasure,

Without one joy that earth can give,

Could dog — were I a dog — so live ?

90 FA UST,

Therefore to magic, with severe And patient toil, have I applied, Despairing of all other guide. That from some Spirit I might hear Deep truths, to others unrevealed^ And mysteries from mankind sealed -, And never more, with shame of heart, Teach things, of which I know no part. Oh, for a glance into the earth ! To see below its dark foundations, Life's embryo seeds before their birth And Nature's silent operations. Thus end at once this vexing fever Of words — mere words — repeated ever.

Beautiful Moon ! — Ah ! would that now, For the last time, thy lovely beams Shone on my troubled brow ! Oft by this desk, at middle night, I have sat gazing for thy light. Wearied with search, through volumes endless, I sate 'mong papers — crowded books, Alone — when thou, friend of the friendless, Camest smiling in, with soothing looks. Oh, that upon some headland height I now were wandering in thy light ! Floating with Spirits, like a shadow, Round mountain-cave, o'er twilight meadow;

FAUST, 91

And from the toil of thought relieved, No longer sickened and deceived, In thy soft dew could bathe, and find Tranquillity and health of mind.

Alas ! and am I in the gloom

Still of this cursed dungeon room ?

Where even heaven's light, so beautiful,

Through the stained glass comes thick and dull ;

'Mong volumes heaped from floor to ceiling,

Scrolls with book-worms through them stealing ;

Dreary walls, where dusty paper

Bears deep stains of smoky vapour;

Glasses^ instruments, all lumber

Of this kind the place encumber ;

All a man of learning gathers.

All bequeathed me by my fathers,

Crucibles from years undated,

Chairs of structure antiquated,

Are in strange confusion hurled !

Here, Faustus, is thy world — a world !

Btill dost thou ask, why in thy breast

The sick heart flutters ill at rest ?

Why a, dull Sense of suffering

Deadens life's current at the spring?

From living nature thou hast fled

To dwell 'mong fragments of the dead ;

And for the lovely scenes which Heaven

92 FAUST,

Hath made man for, to man hath given ; Hast chosen to pore o'er mouldering bones Of brute and human skeletons !

Away— away and far away !

This book, where secret spells are scanned,

Traced by Nostradam's own hand,

Will be thy strength and stay :

The courses of the stars to thee

No longer are a mystery;

The thoughts of Nature thou canst seek,-

As Spirits with their brothers speak.

It isj it is the planet hour

Of thy own being ; light, and power,

And fervour to the soul are given,

As proudly it ascends its heaven.

To ponder here, o'er spells and signs,

Symbohc letters, circles, lines ;

And from their actual use refrain,

Were time and labour lost in vain :

Then ye, whom I feel floating near me,

Spirits, answer, ye who hear me !

\He opens the book^ and lights upon the sign of Macrocosmus. Ha ! what new life divine, intense. Floods in a moment every sense ; I feel the dawn of youth again,

FAUST, 93

Visiting each glowing veiii !

Was it a god — a god who wrote these signs?

The tumults of my soul are stilled,

My withered heart with rapture filled ;

In virtue of the magic lines,

The secret powers that Nature mould,

Their essence and their acts unfold —

Am I a god ? — Can mortal sight

Enjoy, endure this burst of light?

How clear these silent characters !

All Nature present to my view,

And each creative act of hers —

And is the glorious vision true ?

The wise man's words at length are plain,

Whose sense so long I sought in vain :

" The Worlde of Spirits no Clouds conceale :

Man's Eye is dim, it cannot see.

Man's Heart is dead, it cannot feele.

Thou, who wouldst knowe the Things that be,

The Heart of Earth in the Sunrise red,

Bathe, till its Stains of Earth are fled."

\Hs looks over ike sign attentively.

Oh ! how the spell before my sight Brings nature's hidden ways to light : See ! all things with each other blending — Each to all its being lending—

94 FAUST,

All on each in turn depending — ,

Heavenly ministers descending —

And again to heaven up-tending —

Floating, mingUng, interweaving —

Rising, sinking, and receiving

Each from each, while each is giving

On to each, and each relieving

Each, the pails of gold, the living

Current through the air is heaving ;

Breathing blessings, see them bending,

Balanced worlds from change defending,

While every where diffused is harmony unending !

Oh ! what a vision— but a vision only !

Can heart of man embrace

Illimitable Nature ?

Fountain of life, forth-welling ;

The same in every place ;

That dost support and cheer

Wide heaven, and teeming earth, and every creature

That hath therein its dwelling,

Oh ! could the blighted soul but feel thee near !

To thee still turns the withered heart.

To thee the spirit, seared and lonely,

Childlike, would seek the sweet restorative ;

On thy maternal bosom feed and live.

I ask a solace thou dost not impart i

FAUST. 95

The food I hunger for thou dost not give !

\He tur?is over the leaves of the book impatiently, till his eye rests on the sign of the Spirit of the Earth. How differently this sign affects my frame ! Spirit of Earth ! my nature is the same, Or near akin to thine ! How fearlessly I read this sign ! And feel even now new powers are mine ; While my brain burns, as though with wine ; Give me the agitated strife, The madness of the world of life ; I feel within my soul the birth Of strength, enabhng me to bear, And thoughts, impelling me to share The fortunes, good or evil, of the Earth ; To battle with the Tempest's breath. Or plunge where Shipwreck grinds his teeth.

All around grows cold and cloudy,

The moon withdraws her ray ;

The lamp's loose flame is shivering,

It fades, it dies away.

Ha ! round my brow what sparkles ruddy

In trembling light are quivering ?

And, to and fro.

Stream sheets of flame, in fearful play,

Rolled and unrolled,

96 FAUST.

In crimson fold, They float and flow !

From the vaulted space above, \

A shuddering horror seems to move Down, — down upon me creeps and seizes The life's blood, in its grasp that freezes ; 'Tis thou — I feel thee. Spirit, near, Thou hast heard the spell, and thou Art hovering around me now ; Spirit ! to my sight appear, How my heart is torn in sunder — All my thoughts convulsed with wbnder — Every faculty and feeling Strained to welcome thy revealing. Spirit, my heart, my heart is given to thee, Though death may be the price, I cannot choose but see ! \He grasps the hook, and pronounces the sign of the Spirit mysteriously ; a red flame is seen playing about, and in the flame the Spirit.

Spirit. Who calls me ?

Faust, [averting his face.'] Form of horror, hence !

Spirit. Hither from my distant sphere. Thou hast compelled me to appear; Hast sucked me down, and dragged me thence. With importuning violence ; And now

Faust. I shudder, overpowered with fear.

Spirit. Panting, praying to look on me,

FAUST. 97

My voice to listen, my face to see,

Thy soul's strong mandate bends me down to thee.

Here am I — here and now, what fear

Seizes thee ? — thee — the more than Man ?

Where the strong soul, that could dare Summon Us, Spirits ? Where The soul, that could conceive, and plan, Yea, and create its world ; whose pride The bounds which Hmit Man defied; Heaved with high sense of inborn powers. Nor feared to mete its strength with ours. Where art thou, Faust ? and, were the accents thine, That rang to me ? the soul that pressed itself to mine ? Art thou the same, whose senses thus are shattered, Whose very being in my breath is scattered Shuddering thro' all life's depths — poor writhing worm !

Faust. Creature of flame, shall I grow pale before thee ? I am he, I called thee, I am Faust, thy Equal !

Spirit. In the currents of life, in the tempests of motion, In the fervour of act, in the fire, in the storm,

Hither and thither,

Over and under,

Wend I and wander.

Birth and the grave

Limitless ocean, I Where the restless wave

Undulates ever,

98 FAUST.

Under and over Their seething strife, Heaving and weaving The changes of Hfe. At the whirring loom of Time unawed, I work the living mantle of God. Fatist. Swift Spirit^ that ever round the v/ide world heavest ! How near I feel to thee !

Spirit. Man, thou art as the Spirit, whom thou con- ceivest, Not ME. [Vanishes,

Faust [overpowered with co9ifusion\ Not thee ! Whom then ? I ! image of the Deity ! And not even such as thee ! [A knock.

'Sdeath ! 'tis this pupil lad of mine — He comes my airy guests to banish. This elevating converse dread, These visions, dazzlingly outspread Before my senses, all will vanish At the formal fellow's tread !

Enter Wagner, in /us dressing-gown and ni'-^lit-cap — a lamp in his hand. Faust turns round, displeased.

Wag. Forgive me, but I thought you were declaiming; Been reciting some Greek tragedy, no doubt ; I wish to improve myself in this same art ;

FAUST, 99

'Tis a most useful one. I've heard it said,

An actor might give lessons to a priest,

Faust. Yes ! when your priest's an actor, as may happen. Wag. Oh ! if a man shuts himself up for ever

In his dull study ; if one sees the world

Never, unless on some chance holyday.

Looks at it from a distance, through a telescope,

How can we learn to sway the minds of men

By eloquence ? to rule them, or persuade ?

Faust. If feeling does not prompt, in vain you strive ;

If from the soul the language does not come,

By its own impulse, to impel the hearts

Of hearers, with communicated power,

In vain you strive — in vain you study earnestly.

Toil on for ever ; piece together fragments ;

Cook up your broken scraps of sentences,

And blow, with puffing breath, a struggling light,

GHmmering confusedly now, now cold in ashes ;

Startle the school-boys with your metaphors ;

And, if such food may suit your appetite.

Win the vain wonder of applauding children \

But never hope to stir the hea,rts of men.

And mould the souls of many into one.

By words which come not native from the heart ! Wag. Expression, graceful utterance, is the first

And best acquirement of the orator.

This do I feel, and feel my want of it !

ICO FAUST.

Faust Be honest, If you would bt eloquent; Be not a chiming fool with cap and bells ; Reason and genuine feeling want no arts Of utterance — ask no toil of elocution ; And when you are in earnest, do you need A search for words ? Oh ! these fine holyday phrases, In which you robe your worn-out common-places, These scraps of paper which you crimp and curl. And twist into a thousand idle shapes, These filigree ornaments are good for nothing, Cost time and pains, please few, impose on no one ; Are unrefreshing, as the wind that whistles, In autumn, 'mong the dry and wrinkled leaves.

Wag. The search of knowledge is a weary one, And life how short ! Ars longa, Vita brevis I How often have the heart and brain, o'er-tasked, Shrunk back despairing from enquiries vain \ Oh ! with what difficulty are the means Acquired, that lead us to the springs of knowledge ! And when the path is found, ere we have trod Half the long way — poor wretches ! we must die !

Faust. Are mouldy records, then, the holy springs, Whose healing waters still the thirst within ? Oh ! never yet hath mortal drunk A draught restorative. That welled not from the depths of his own soul !

Wa:::. Pardon me — but you will at least confess

FAUST, joi

That 'tis delightful to transfuse yourself

Into the spirit of the ages past ;

To see how wise men thought in olden time,

And how far we outstep their march in knowledge.

Faust. Oh yes ! as far as from the earth to heaven ! To us, my friend, the times that are gone by Are a mysterious book, sealed with seven seals : That which you call the spirit of ages past Is but, in truth, the spirit of some few authors In which those ages are beheld reflected. With what distortion strange heaven only knows. Oh ! often, what a toilsome thing it is This study of thine, at the first glance we fly it. A mass of things confusedly heaped together ; A lumber-room of dusty documents, Furnished with all-approved court-precedents^ And old traditional maxims ! History ! Facts dramatized say rather — action — plot — Sentiment, every thing the writer's own. As it best fits the web-work of his story. With here and there a solitary fact Of consequence, by those grave chroniclers, Pointed with many a moral apophthegm, And wise old saws, learned at the puppet-shows.

Wag. But then the world, man's heart and mind, are things Of which 'twere well that each man had some knowledge.

103 FAUST.

Faust Why yes ! — they call it knowledge. Who may dare To name things by their real names ? The few Who did know something, and were weak enough To expose their hearts unguarded — to expose Their views and feelings to the eyes of men, They have been nailed to crosses — thrown to flames. Pardon me ; but 'tis very late, my friend ; Too late to hold this conversation longer.

Wagner. How willingly would I sit up for ever, Thus to converse with you so learnedly. To-morrow, as a boon on Easter-day, You must permit me a few questions more : I have been diligent in all my studies ; Given my whole heart and time to the pursuit ; And I know much^ but would know every thing. \Exif.

Faust \alone\. How hope abandons not the humblest mind ! Poor lad ! he clings to learning's poorest forms, Delves eagerly for fancied gold to find Worms — dust j is happy among dust and v/orms !

Man's voice, and such a man's, and did it dare Breathe round me here, where Spirits thronged the air ? And yet, poor humble creature that thou art, How do I thank thee from my very heart ! When my senses sank beneath Despair, and sought relief in death ;

FAUST, 103

When life within me dying shivered, Thy presence from the trance deUvered. Oh, while I stood before that giant stature. How dwarfed I felt beneath its nobler nature !

Image of God ! I thought that I had been Sublimed from earth, no more a child of clay, That, shining gloriously with Heaven's own day, I had beheld Truth's countenance serene. High above cherubs — above all that serve. Raised up immeasurably- -every nerve Of Nature's life seemed animate with mine ; Her very veins with blood from my veins filled — Her spirit moving as my spirit willed ; Then did I in creations of my own (Oh, is not man in every thing divine !) Build worlds — or bidding them no longer be — Exert, enjoy a sense of deity — • Doomed for such dreams presumptuous to alone i All by one vs^ord of thunder overthrown !

Spirit, I may not nlete myself with thee ! True, I compelled thee to appear. But had no power to hold thee here. Oh 1 in that rapturous moment how I felt— « How little and how great ! and thus to be With savage scorn fiercely flung back upon I'he lot to mortals dealt.

104 FAUST.

And its uncertainties ! again the prey

Of deep disquietude ! with none

To guide me on my way,

Or shew me what to shun !

That impulse goads me on — shall I obey ?

Alas ! 'tis not our sufferings alone,

But even our acts obstruct us and delay

Our life's free flow.

To what man's spirit conceives Of purest, best, some foreign growth still cleaves, We seize what this world gives of good, and deem All Better a deception and a dream. High feelings, that in us to life gave birth, Are numbed and wither in the coil of earth.

How boldly, in the days of youthful Hope, Imagination spreads her wing unchecked. Deeming all things within her ample scope, To the Eternal ! and how small a space Suffices her when Fortune flees apace. And all we loved in life's strange whirl is wrecked ! Deep in the breast Care builds her nest, Rocks restlessly and scares away all rest. Some secret sorrow still the envious one Keeps stirring at till peace and joy are gone. Each day she masks her in some new disguise, Each day with some new trick the temper tries,

FAUST,

Is House and Homestead, Child and Wife, Fire, Water, Poison, Dagger-knife. ^

Evils that never come disquiet thee Evermore mourning losses not to be !

I am not like the gods. No ! no ! I tremble, Feeling impressed upon my mind the thought, Of the mean worm whose nature I resemble. 'Tis dust, and lives in dust, and the chance tread Crushes the wretched reptile into nought.

Is this not dust in which I live ? This prison- place, what can it give Of life or comfort ? wheresoe'er The sick eye turns, it sees one tier — Along the blank high wall — of shelves And gloomy volumes, which themselves Are dust and lumber ; and the scrolls That crowd the hundred pigeon-holes And crevices of that old case — That darkens and confines the space Already but too small — 'mong these What can life be but a disease? Here housed in dust, with grub and motli, I sicken — mind and body both. — Shall I find here the cure I ask, Resume the edifying task ■ j

Of reading, in a thousand pages,

105

io6 FAUST,

That care-worn man has, in all ages, Sowed Vanity to reap Despair ? That one, mayhap, has here and there Been less unhappy ?

Hollow Skull, I almost fancy I divine A meaning in thy spectral smile. Saith it not that thy brain, like mine, Still loved, and sought the Beautiful ; Loved Truth for Truth's own sake \ and sought, Regardless of aught else the while. Like- mine, the light of cloudless day — And, in unsatisfying thought By twilight glimmers led astray. Like mine at' length sank over- wrought?

Every thing fails me — every thing — These instruments, do they not all Mock me ? lathe, cylinder, and ring, And cog and wlieel — in vain I call On you for aid, ye keys of Science, I stand before the guarded door Of Nature ; but it bids defiance To latch or ward : in vain I prove ^^our powers — the strong bolts will not move. Mysterious, in the blaze of day. Nature pursues her tranquil v/ay :

FAUST,

The veil she v/ears, if hand profane Should seek to raise, it seeks in vain, Though from her spirit thine receives, When hushed it listens and believes, Secrets — revealed, else vainly sought, Her free gift when man questions not,— Think not with levers or v/ith screws To wring them out if she refuse.

Old Furniture — cumbrous and mean !

It is not, has not ever been

Of use to me — why here ? because

My father's furniture it v/as !

— Old Roll ; and here it still remains,

And soiled with smoke, its very stains

Might count how many a year the light

Hath, from this desk, through the dead night,

Burn'd in its sad lamp, nothing bright !

— 'Twere better did I dissipate.

Long since, my little means, than be

Crushed, down and cumbered with its weight :

All that thy fathers leave to thee,

At once enjoy it — thus alone

Can man make any thing his own ;

A hindrance all that we employ not—

A burden all that we enjoy not.

He knows, who rightly estimates,

107

io8 FAUST,

That what the moment can employ, What it requires and can enjoy, The MOMENT for itself creates.

What can it be, that thither draws The eye, and holds it there, as though The flask a very magnet were ? And whence, oh, whence this lavish glow, This lustre of enchanted light, Pour'd down at once, and every where — Birth of the moment — like the flood Of splendour round us, when at night Breathes moonlight over a wide wood?

Oh phial ! — happy phial ! — here

Hope is, — I greet thee, — I revere

Thee as Art's best result — in Thee

Science and Mind triumphant see, —

Essence of all sweet slumber-dews !

Spirit of all most delicate

Yet deadliest powers ! — be thou my friend-

A true friend — thou wilt not refuse

Thine own old master this ! — I gaze

On thee — the pain subsides — the weight

That pressed me down less heavy Aveighs.

I grasp thee — faithful friend art thou : — ■ Already do I feel the strife

FAUST. 109

That preyed upon my powers of life

Calmed into peace ; and now — and now

The swell, that troubled the clear spring

Of my vext spirit, ebbs away ;

Outspread, like ocean, Life and Day

Shine with a glow of welcoming ; —

Calm at my feet the glorious mirror lies,

And tempts to far-off shores, with smiles from other skies I

And, lo ! a car of fire to me GHdes softly hither ; from within Come winged impulses, to bear The child of earth to freer air : Already do I seem to win My happy course, from bondage free, On paths unknown, to climes unknown, Glad spheres of pure activity ! Powers yet unfelt — worlds yet untrod-— And life, poured every where abroad, And rapture worthy of a God ! — Worm that thou art, and can it be Such joy is thine, is given to thee ? Determine only, — 'tis thy own ; Say thy firm farewell to the sun. The kindly sun — its smiling earth — One moment, one,— and all is done, — One pang — then comes the second birth !

no FAUST,

— Find life where others fear to die ; Take measure of thy strength, and burst — Burst wide the gate of Hberty ; — Show, by man's acts man's spirit durst Meet God's own eye, and wax not dim ; Stand fearless, face to face with Him !

Shudder not now at that blank cave Where, in self-torturing disease. Pale Fancy hears sad Spirits rave. And is herself the hell she sees. — Press through the strait, where stands Despair Guarding it, and the fiery wave Boils up, — and know no terror there ! Determine ;— be of happy cheer In this high hour — be thy advance The proud step of a triumph-day ; — Be firm, and cast away all fear ; — And freely^ — if such be the chance — Flow into nothingness away !

And thou, clear crystal goblet, welcome thou ! Old friend and faithful, from thy antique case Come forth with gay smile now, As gently I displace

The time-stain'd velvet ; years unnumbered, Forgotten hast thou slumbered ; Once bright at many a festival, When, in the old man's liall,

FAUST, II J

Old friends were gathered all,

And thou with mirth didst light grave features up,

On days of high festivity,

And family solemnity,

As each to each passed on the happy cup ;

Its massy pride, the figures rich and old,

Of curious carving, and the merry task

Of each (thus did our pleasant customs ask)

Who drank, the quaint old symbols to unfold,

In rhymes made at the moment ; then the mask

Of serious seeming^ as at one long draught

Each guest the full deep goblet duly quaffed ;

The old cup, the old customs, the old rhymes,

All now are with me : all, that of old times

Can speak, are speaking to my heart ] the nights

Of boyhood, and their manifold dehghts ;

Oh ! never more to gay friend sitting next

Shall my hand reach thee ; never more from me

Shall merry rhyme illustrate the old text.

And into meaning read each mystery ;

This is a draught that, if the brain still think,

Will set it thinking in another mood ;

Old cup, now fill thee with the dark brov/n flood ;

It is my choice ; I mixed it, and will drink :

My last draught this on earth I dedicate,

(And with it be my heart and spirit borne !)

A festal offering to the rising morn.

\^IIe places the goblet to his vtoitth

H2 FAUST.

Bells heard^ and voices i?i chorw:,

Easter Hymn.— C/^^z-z/j ^Angels.

Christ is from the grave arisen, Joy is His. For Him the weary Earth hath ceased its thraldom dreary, And the cares that prey on mortals : He hath burst the grave's stern portals ;

The grave is no prison :

The Lord hath arisen !

Faust. Oh, those deep sounds, those voices rich and heavenly ! How powerfully they sway the soul, and force The cup uplifted from the eager lips ! Proud bells, and do your peals already ring, To greet the joyous dawn of Easter-morn ? And ye, rejoicing choristers, already Flows forth your solemn song of consolation ? That song, which once, from angel lips resounding Around the midnight of the grave, was heard, The pledge and proof of a new covenant !

Hymn continiied. — Chorus of Women*

We laid Him for burial

'Mong aloes and myrrh ; His children and friends

Laid their dead Master here I

F/IUST, 11 z

Ail wrapt in His grave-dresS;

We left Him in fear — Ah ! where shall we seek Him ?

The Lord is not here !

Chorus ^Angels.

The Lord hath arisen,

Sorrow no longer ; Temptation hath tried Him,

But He was the stronger. Happy, happy victory !

Love, submission, self-denial Marked the strengthening agony,

Marked the purifying trial ; The grave is no prison : The Lord hath arisen.

Faiist. Soft sounds, that breathe of Heaven, most mild, most powerful, What seek ye here ? — Why will ye come to me In dusty gloom immersed ?— Oh ! rather speak To hearts of soft and. penetrable mould ! I hear your message, but I have not faith — And Miracle is fond Faith's favourite child ! I cannot force myself into the spheres, Where these good tidings of great joy are heard; And yet, from youth familiar with the sounds.

114 FAUST,

Even now they call me back again to life ;

Oh ! once, in boyhood's happy time, Heaven's love

Showered down upon me, with mysterious kiss

Hallowipg the stillness of the Sabbath-day !

Feelings resistless, incommunicable,

Yearnings for something that I knew not of.

Deep meanings in the full tones of the bells

Mingled — a prayer was burning ecstasy —

Drove me, a wanderer through lone fields and woods;

Then tears rushed hot! and fast — then was the birth

Of a new life and a new world for me ;

These bells announced the merry sports of youth,

This music welcomed in the happy spring ;

And now am I once more a little child,

And old Remembrance, twining round my heart,

Forbids this act, and checks my daring steps —

Then sing ye on — sweet songs that are of Heaven !

Tears come, and Earth hath won her child again.

Hymn continued. — Chorus ^Disciples.

He, who was buried,

Hath burst from the grave !

From death re-assuming The life that He gave,

Is risen in glory, Is mighty to save !

FAUST.

And onward — still onward

Arising, ascend ing^ To the right hand of Power

And Joy never-ending.

Enthroned in brightness, His labours are over ;

On earth His disciples Still struggle and suffer !

His children deserted Disconsolate languish—

Thou art gone, and to glory- Hast left us in anguish !

Chorus of Angels.

Christ is arisen,

The Lord hath ascended ^ The dominion of death

And corruption is ended.

Your work of obedience Haste to begin ;

Break from the bondage Of Satan and Sin.

In your lives his laws obey Let love your governed bosoms sway- Blessings to the poor convey,

ii6 FAUST.

To God with humble spirit pray, To Man His benefits display : Act thus, and He, your Master dear, Though unseen, is ever near 1

BEFORE THE GATE.

Perso7is of all descriptions strolling out

A Party of Tradesmen. What are you going for in thi-.t direction ?

Second Party. We are going to the Jagerhaus.

First Party. And we

Are strolling down to the Mill.

A Tradesman. I would advise you

Rather to take a walk to the Wasserhof.

A Second. The road to it is not a pleasant one.

Second Party. What are you for ?

A Third, I go with the other party.

A Fourth, Take my advice, and let us come to Burgdorf : There, any way, we shall be sure of finding The prettiest girls, and the brownest beer. And lots of rows in the primest style.

A Fifth. What, boy,

Art at it still ? two drubbings, one would think, Might satisfy a reasonable man. I won't go there with you — I hate the place !

Servant ATaid. No ! no ! — not I — I'll go back to the town

FAUST. 117

Another. We'll find him surely waiting at the poplars.

The First. Great good is that to me, — he'll give his arm To you — and dance with you — and wliy should I go For nothing in the world but your amusement ?

The Second. To-day he'll certainly not be alone, His curly-headed friend will be with him.

Student. Look there— look there — how well those girls step out — Come, brother, come let's keep them company. Stiff beer^ biting tobacco, and a girl In her smart dress, are the best things I know.

Citizen^ s Daiigh. Only look there — what pretty fellows these are I 'Tis quite a shame, when they might have the best Of company, to see them running after A pair of vulgar minxes — servant girls.

Second Stii. \to the first\ Stay, easy — here are two fine girls behind us, Showily dressed. I know one of them well — And, I may say, am half in love with her. Innocent things ! with what a modest gait And shy step they affect to pace ; and yet, For all their bashfulness, they'll take us with them.

First Stii. Join them, yourseh — not I — I hate restraint. Let us not lose time with them, or the game escapes, Give me the girl that gives a man no trouble,

ii8 FAUST.

That on the week-days does her week-day work, And, the day after, work that she loves better.

Citizen. Well, I do not like this new burgomaster. Not a day passes but he grows more insolent, Forsooth 1 presuming on his dignity. And what good is he to us after all ? The town is growing worse from day to day, They are more strict upon us now than ever, And raise continually the rates and taxes. Beggar \si?igs\

Masters good, and ladies bnght^

Rosy-cheeked., and richly dressed^ Look upon a wretched sight,

And relieve the poor distressed: Let me not in vain implore !

Fity me I — with chime and voice Would I cheer you — let the poor

When all else are glad, rejoice ! L must beg, J or I must live.

Help me I blessed they who give I When all other men ai'e gay Is the beggar's harvest day. Second Cit. Well ! give me, on a saint's day, or a Sunday, When we have time for it, a tale of war And warlike doings far away in Turkey — How they are busy killing one another. 'Tis pleasant to stand gazing from the window,

FAUST. 119

Draining your glass at times, and looking on The painted barges calmly gliding down The easy river. Then the homeward walk In the cool evening hour ; tliis makes the heart •Glad, and at peace with all things and itself. Yes ! give me peace at home, and peaceful times !

Third Cit. Ay, so say I — break every head abroad — Turn all things topsy-turvy, so they leave us Quiet at home.

Old Woman \io the Citizen's Daughters]. Ha ! but you are nicely dressed, And very pretty creatures— you'll win hearts To-day — ay, that you will — only don't look So very proud — yes ! that is something better — I know ^vhat my young pets are wishing for, And thinking of, and they shall have it too !

Citizen's Dan. Come, Agatha, come on — I'd not be seen With the old witch in public ; yet she showed me, On last St. Andrew's night, in flesh and blood, My future lover.

The Other. In the glass she showed Me mine. The figure was a soldier's, and With him a band of gay bold fellows. Since, I have been looking round, and seeking for him. But all in vain — 'tis folly — he woii't come.

Soldier. Toivns with turrets^ avails, arid fences^

I20 FAUST.

Maidens with their haughty glances. These the soldiei' seeks with ardour, Say to conquer ivJiicJi is harder? Death and danger he despises, When he looks upon the prizes. Danger is the soldier's duty, And his prize is fame and beauty. •

Rush we, at the truiupefs measure, With blithe hearts to death and pleasure ;

How the soldier's blood is warming When we think of cities storming !

Fortress strong, and maiden te?ider,

Must alike to us surrender.

Danger is the soldier's duty,

But his prize is fame and beauty.

Faust. River and rivulet are freed from ice In Spring's affectionate inspiring smile — Green are the fields with promise — far away To the rough hills old Winter hath withdrawn Strengthless — but still at intervals will send Light feeble frosts, with drops of diamond wliitc Mocking a little while the coming bloom— Still soils with showers of sharp and bitter sleet. In anger impotent, the earth's green robe; But the sun suffers not the lingering snow — Every where life — every where vegetation

FAUST. 121

All nature animate with glowing hues —

Or, if one spot be touched not by the spirit

Of the sweet season, there, in colours rich .

As trees or flowers, are sparkling human dresses !

Turn round, and from this height look back upon

The town : from its black dungeon gate forth pours,

In thousand parties, the gay multitude.

All happy, all indulging in the sunshine !

All celebrating the Lord's resurrection,

And in themselves exhibiting as 'twere

A resurrection too— so changed are they,

So raised above themselves. From chambers damp

Of poor mean houses — from consuming toil

Laborious — from the work-yard and the shop—

From the imprisonment of walls and roofs,

And the oppression of confining streets,

And from the solemn twilight of dim churches —

All are abroad — all happy in the sun.

Look, only look, with gaiety how acdve.

Through fields and gardens they disperse themselves !

How the wide water, far as we can see.

Is joyous with innumerable boats !

See, there, one almost sinking with its load,

Parts from the shore ; yonder the hill-top paths

Are sparkling in the distance with gay dresses !

And, hark! the sounds of joy from the far village!

This is the people's very heaven on earth I

122 FAUST,

The high, the low, in pleasure all uniting — Here may I feel that I too am a man !

Wag. Doctor, 'to steal about with you. 'tis plain Is creditable, brings its own great gain. But otherwise, I'd never throw away My time in such a place. I so detest Everything vulgar — hear them ! how they play Their creaking fiddles — hark the kettle-drums ; And their damned screaming to the ear that comes Worse, if 'twere possible, than all the rest. They rave like very devils let loose on earth— This they call singing ! — this, they say, is mirth !

Peasants, \dancing and suiging?^ The sheplierd for the dance is drest In ribands, wreath, and flashy vest ; Round and round like mad they spin To the fiddle's lively din. All are dancing full of glee, All beneath the linden tree.

'Tis merry and merry — heigh-hO; heigh-ho, Blithe goes the fiddle-bow !

Soon he runs to join the rest ; Up to a pretty girl he prest ; With elbow raised and pointed toe, Bent to her with his best bow — Pressed her hand : with feigned surprise,

FAUST. 12;

Up she raised her timid eyes !

"'Tis strange that you should use me so,

So, so — heigh-ho —

'Tis rude of you to use me so." :

All into the set advance,

Right they dance, and left they dance —

Gowns and ribands how they fling,

Flying with the flying ring ;

They grew red, and faint, and warm,

And rested, sinking, arm in arm.

Slow, slow, heigh-ho,

Tired in elbow, foot, and toe !

" And do not make so free," she said ; " I fear that you may never wed ; Men are cruel " — and he prest The maiden to his beating breast. Hark ! again, the sounds of glee Swelling from the linden tree,

'Tis merry, 'tis merry — heigh-ho, heigh-ho,

BHthe goes the iiddle-bow ! Old Peas. This, doctor, is so kind of you, A man of rank and learning too ; Who, but yourself, would condescend Thus with the poor, the poor man's friend,

124

FA UST.

To join our sports ? In this brown cheer

Accept the pledge we tender here,

A draught of Hfe may it become

And years on years, oh ! may you reach,

As cheerful as these beads of foam,

As countless, too, a year for each !

Faust. Blest be the draught restorative ! I pledge you — happy may you live !

\TJie people collect in a circle roimd him.

Old Peas. Yes ! witness thou the poor man's glee, And share in his festivity : In this hath fortune fairly dealt With him who, in the evil day Of the black sickness, with us dwelt, When Plague was numbering his prey — In strength and health how many gather To this day's pastimes, whom thy father Rescued from death in that last stage, When the disease, tired out at length Is followed by the fever's rage, And prostrate sinks the vital strength ; And you^ too, in that time of dread And death, a young man, visited Each house of sickness : — evermore, Day after day, tlie black hearse bore Corse after corse — still, day by day, The good man held his fearless way •

FAUST, 125

Unscathed; for God 3. blessing gave, And saved the man who sought to save.

All. For thee, tried friend, our prayers we raise, And, when we wish thee length of days, 'Tis for himself that each man prays.

Faust. In thanks to the great Father bend, We are but servants to extend Blessings, that flow from man's one Friend.

\Goes on with Wagner.

Wag. With what a sense of pure delight, Master, must thou enjoy the sight Of this vast crowd, and the unchecked Expression of their deep respect ! Oh, happy he, who thus to Heaven Can render back the talents given ! The pious father points thee out To his young folk— they gaze, and ask, And gaze again — and crowd about. The blithe musician in his task Pauses — the dancers turn to thee. And gather into rows to see The man they honour passing by— And then the gratulating shout — And then the caps flung up on high : They almost worship thee — almost Would bend the knee as to the Host.

Faust. To yonder rock is but a few steps on —

126 FAUST.

After our long walk we may rest us there.

Here oft I've sate to muse ; here all alone By vigil, fast, and agonies of prayer — In Hope then rich, in Faith unwavering. With tears and sighs, here was I wont to pray, — And supplicating hands, as though to wring From Him in heaven that He the plague would stay. To me the praise I hear is mockery. Oh ! that you could into my bosom gaze, Read written there how little worthy we, Father or son, of these poor people's praise. My father, a reserved and moody man On Nature's holy circles still would pore, With honest ardour, after some strange plan That pleased his fancy, toiling evermore. And he would shut himself in secret cell, One or two adepts always at his side. Quaint recipes with fire and crucible, In tliis dark kitchen evermore he tried. Watching for the great moment's birth that might Antagonistic elements unite. There in the gentle bath a Lion Red, Bold wooer he — was to the Lily wed ; And both were, while the furnace fire raged bright ; Hurried in torture on from bed to bed. If in the glass was given us to behold

FAUST. 127

The YouDg Queen rise in colours manifold, Here was the medicine — the patients died. None asked " Who took it and remained alive ?" — Thus in these mountains — in these valleys wide, Our cure was than the plague a plague more fierce. To thousands have I given the poison — they Have withered — they are dead — and I survive To hear praise lavished on their murderers.

Wag. How can this be so painful? What can men Do more than in their practice still obey The precepts of the science of their day ? What you have from your father heard was then Heard in the docile spirit of belief. You in your day extend the limit-line Of science 5 in due time your son will tajkc His place—and for himself discoveries make Greater than thine, perhaps — yet but for thine Impossible. If so then, why this grief .^

Faust. Happy who still hath hope to rise above This sea of error; strange that we in vain Seek knowledge each day needs : the knowledge of What never can avail us we attain. But with such musings let us sadden not This sweet hour ! see, where, in the sunset, gleam The village huts with green trees smiling round Each cottage in its own small garden plot. But the Sun sinks— day dies, and it would seem

128 FAUST.

With day the Sun. But still doth he survive, Still speeds he on with life-diffusing beam — Oh, that no wing uplifts me from the ground, Nearer and nearer after him to strive ! Then should I the reposing world behold Still in this everlasting evening glow. The hill-tops kindling all — the vales at rest — The silver brooklet in its silent flow To where the yellow splendour of the West On the far river lies in trembling gold. In vain the rugged mountain rears his breast, AVith darkening cliff and cave to bar my way, Onward in heaven, still onward is my flight, And now wide ocean, with each fervid bay, In sudden brightness breaks upon my sight, Till sinking seems at last the god of day. Then the new instinct wakens, and I breathe Heaven still — still drink of his undying light. Before me day — behind m.e is the night- Above me heaven — ^and the wide wave beneath, A glorious dream — illusion brief and bright — For while I yet am dreaming he is gone. Alas ! from its captivity of earth, The body hath no wing whereon to rise, And with the winged spirit voyage on : And yet will every one of hum.an birth The feelinf![ in our nature recognize,

FAUST, 129

That for a moment with a sense of wings Uplifts us, bears us onward and away, When high above, in blue space lost, his lay Thrilling the skylark sings. When over piny headlands, savage steeps, Outspread the eagle' sweeps. And over moorlands, over main, Homeward, homeward strives the crane.

Wag. I, too, of reverie oft have had my moods, But impulse such as this they never bring. The eye soon has enough of fields and woods ; I never had a wish for a bird's wing — Far other are the thinking man's delights. From book to book, from leaf to leaf they lead, And bright and cheerful are his winter nights. Life, happy life, warms every limb — Unroll, At such charmed hour, some precious parchment scroll. All heaven descends upon you as you read.

Faust. You feel but the one impulse now — oh learn Never to know the other ! in my breast Alas ! two souls dwell — all there is unrest ; Each with the other strives for mastery, Each from the other struggles to be free. One to the fleshly joys the coarse earth yields, With clumsy tendrils clings, and one would rise In native pov/er and vindicate the fields. Its own by birthright — its ancestral skies.

T30 FAUST.

Oh ! if indeed Spirits be in the air,

Moving 'twixt heaven and earth with lordly wings,

Come from your golden ''incense-breathing" sphere.

Waft me to new and varied life away.

Oh ! had I but a magic cloak to bear

At will to far off lands the wanderer,

How little would I prize the rich array •

Of princes, and the purple pomp of kings !

Wag, Call not the v;ell-known army. Of dusk air, A living stream, the middle space they fill, And danger manifold for man prepare, For ever active in the work of ill. From all sides pour they on us — from the north, With piercing fangs, with arrow-pointed tongues, And from the sunrise region speed they forth, In the dry wind to feast upon the lungs. If from the desolate parched wilderness The midday send them out with fervid glow, To heap fresh fire upon the burning brain, A cloudy vapour from the west they flow. Descend in what would seem refreshing rain, Then in fierce torrents down on thee they press, And deluge garden, meadow-field, and plain. Ready for evil with delight they hear, They lurk and listen — gladly they obey Man's invitation — gladly they betray Such summoner — in mischief they rejoice,

FAUST. 131

Ambassadors from heaven itself appear, And utter falsehoods with an angel's voice. But let's away — the air grows chill — the dew Is falling — and the dusk of night has come. Towards night we first have the true feel of home. What keeps you standing there ? — Why that intent Stare — why that look of such astonishment ? What do you see that fastens thus on you ?

Faust. Do you see that black dog, where through the green blades Of the soft springing corn, and the old stubble, He runs, just glancing by them for a moment?

Wag. I've seen him this while past, but thought not of him As any way strange.

Faust. Look at him carefully,

What do you take the brute to be ?

Wag. Why, nothing

But a poor fool of a poodle, puzzling out His master's track whom I suppose he has lost.

Faust. Do you observe how in wide serpent circles He courses round us ? nearer and yet nearer Each turn,— and if my eyes do not deceive me, Sparkles of lire whirl where his foot hath touched.

Wag. I can see nothing more than a black dog ; It may be some deception of your eyeSo

Faust. Methinks he draws light magic threads around us, Hereafter to entangle and ensnare I

E2

132

FAUST]

Wag. In doubt and fear the poodle's leaping round us, Seeing two strangers in his master's stead.

Faust. The circle, see, how much more narrow 'tis, — He's very near us !

Wag. 'Tis a dog, you see,

And not a spirit ; see, he snarls at strangers, Shies, lies upon his belly, wags his tail, As all dogs do.

Faust, We'll bring him home with us. —

Come, pretty fellow !

Wag. He's a merry dog,—

If you stand, he stands up and waits for you, — Speak to him, and he straight leaps up upon you, — Leave something after you, no doubt he'll bring it, Or plunge into the water for your stick.

Faust. You're right. I see no traces of the Spirit In him —

Wag. A dog, well tutored, learns the art To win upon a good man's heart ; — Wise men grow fond of them — and see, Our friend already follows thee — Soon shall we see the happy creature, Prime favourite, round the doctor skip : '

With every student for his teacher, How can we doubt his scholarship ?

\They enter the town gate

FAUST, 133

Scene. — Faust's Study.

E?iter Faust, with the Dog.

Faust. The fields we roamed through with delight, Are hidden now in the deep night ; Within us felt the thrilling hour, Awakes man's better soul to power : Hushed the desires of the wild will, And action's stormy breath is still — Love stirs around us and abroad. The love of Man, the love of God.

Rest, poodle, rest — lie down in quiet ! Why runs he up and down the floor ? What can it be he looks so shy at, Smelling and snuffling at the door ? Pleasant wert thou in our mountain ramble, Didst make us merry with trick and gambol, Go to sleep on the cushion — a soft snug nest — Take thy ease, in thine inn, like a welcome guest

When in our narrow cell each night, The lone lamp sheds its friendly light, Then from the bosom doubt and fear Pass off Hke clouds, and leave it clear — Then reason re-assumes her reign.

And hope begins to bloom again, - ■

And in the hush of outward strife,

134 FAUST.

We seem to hear the streams of life, And seek, alas ! — in vain essay — Its hidden fountain far away.

Cease dog, to growl ! the beastly howl of the hound But ill accords with the pure breathing of Heaven — with the holy tones — all peace and love That to the heart unbidden way have found. With men 'tis common to contemn, Whatever is too good, too fair. Too high to be conceived by them, And is't that like those wretched carles, This dog, at what he understands not, snarls ?

These withering thoughts, do what I will, They come — the fountain of the heart is chilL — How oft have I experienced change like this ! Yet is it not unblest in the event ; For, seeking to supply the natural dearth, We learn to prize things loftier than the earth. And the heart seeks support and light from heaven. And such support and light — oh^ is it given Any where but in the New Testament?" Strong impulse sways me now to look to the text On which all rests, and honestly translate The holy original into mine own Dear native tongue,

\lle opens a volume and prepares to write.

FAUST. r35

— 'Tfs written — " In the Beginning was the Word." — -

Already at a stand — and how proceed ?

Who helps me ? Is the Word to have such vahie,

Impossible — if by the spirit guided.

Once more — " In the Beginning was the Thought."—

Consider the first line attentively,

Lest hurrying on the pen outrun the meaning.

Is it Thought that works in all, and that makes all ?

— It should stand rather thus — " In the Beginning

Was the Power." — yet even as I am writing this

A something warns me we cannot rest there.

The Spirit aids me — all is clear — and boldly

I write, In the Beginning was the Act.

— Cease, teasing dog, this angry howl, These moans dissatisfied and dull, — Down, dog, or I must be rougher. Noise like this I cannot suffer, — • One of us must leave the closet, if You still keep growling — that is positive ; To use a guest so is not pleasant. But none could bear this whine incessant ! But can what I see be real, Or is all some trick ideal ? Tis surely something more than nature, — Form is changed, and size, and stature, Larger, loftier, erecter,

136 FAUST.

This seeming dog must be a spectre ;—

With fiery eyes, jaws grinding thus,

Like an hippopotamus,

— And here to bring this whelp of hell,

Oh, at last, I know thee well,

For such half-devilish, hellish spawn,

Nought's like the key of Solomon.

Spirits without. One is in prison : Listen to reason : Venture not on : Where he hath gone Follow him none : Watch we all ! watch we well ! The old lynx of hell Has fallen in the snare, Is trapped unaware, Like a fox in the gin ; He is in : he is in : Stay we without, Sweep we about. Backward and forward. Southward and norward, Our colleague assisting, His fetters untwisting, Lightening their pressure By mystical measure ;

FAUST. 137

At our motions and voices, Our brother rejoices, For us hath he offered^ His safety, and suffered ; We are his debtors. Let's loosen his fetters. Faust. To conquer him must I rehearse,

First that deep mysterious verse,

Which each elemental spirit.

Of the orders four, who hear it.

Trembling, will confess and fear it.

Scorching Salamander, burn, Nymph of Water, twist and turn, Vanish, Sylph, to thy far home, Labour vex thee, drudging Gnoime.

He is but a sorry scholar, To whom each elemental ruler, Their acts and attributes essential, And their influence potential, And their sympathies auxiliar, Are not matters quite familiar; Little knows he, little merits A dominion over Spirits.

Fiery Salamander, wither In the red flame's fiery glow !

138 FAUST.

Rushing, as waves rush together, Water-nymph, in water flow ! Gleamy Sylph of Air, glance, fleeter. And more bright, than midnight meteor ! Slave of homely drudgery, Lubber Incubus, flee, flee To the task that waits for thee ! Spirit, that within the beast Art imprisoned, be releast ! Kingly sway hath Solomon Over subject spirits won ; — Forth ! — obey the spell and seal Elemental natures feel !

By Spirits of a difl"erent kind. Is the brute possessed, I find ; Grinning he lies, and mocks the charm That has no power to work him harm.

Spectre ! by a stronger spell Thy obedience I compel —

If thou be a serf of Satan,

A follower of the fallen great one,

Deserter from hell,

i I conjure and charm thee,

\ By the sign and the speU,

To which bows the black army.

See how he swells— how the hair bristles there !

FAUST, 139

Outcast creature, see the sign Of the Human and Divine. Bow before the Uncreated, Whom the world has seen and hated : Canst thou read Him ? Canst thou see ? Dread to hear me name His name, Through all Heaven diffused is He, Died on earth a death of shame.

Ha ! with terror undissembled,

Methinks the brute at last has trembled ;

As behind the stove he Hes,

See him swell and see him pant ;

And his bristles how they rise

As he rouses, — and his size

Large as is the elephant —

Larger yet the room he crowds,—

He will vanish in the clouds.

— Spare the roof in thy retreat,

Lie down at the master's feet.

Thou shalt feel the scorching glow

(Mine is not an idle threat)

Of the heat divine — shalt know

Pangs of fiercer torment yet.

— Still resisting ? — Tarry not

For the three-times glowing light,

Blaze beyond endurance bright —

I40 FAUST,

Reluctantly must I at length Speak the spell of greatest strength.

[Mephistopheles comes forward^ as the mist sinks, in the dress of a travelling scholar, from behind tht stove.

Meph. Why all this uproar ? is there any thing In my poor power to serve you ?

Faust. This then was

The poodle's kernel — travelling scholar — psha ! — A most strange case of the kind — I cannot but Laugh when I think of it.

Meph. Most learned master,

Your humble servant — you've been broiling me After a pretty fashion — sweated me To the very vengeance. I'm in a fine stew.

Famt. Your name ?

Meph. A frivolous enquiry this from you — From one who rates the word so low ? AVlio, disregarding outward show, ^

Would look into the essence of the being —

Faust. With you oftentimes the name And essence is, I trow, the same, The name and nature of the being All one — in nothing disagreeing. Thus, one is called the god of flies — One the Seducer — one the Liar. Now, good, my friend, may I enquire Your name ?

FAUST. 141

Meph. Part of the power that would Still do evil — still does good.

Faust. What may this riddle mean ?

Meph. I am the spirit that evermore denies, And rightly so — for all that doth arise Deserves to perish — this, distinctly seeing — No ! say I, No ! to everything that tries To bubble into being. My proper element is what you name Sin, Dissolution, — in a word, the Bad.

Faust. You call yourself

A part^ yet stand before me whole.

Meph. I speak

The truth— the modest truth — though Man may call — Poor fool-world Man— in his aspirings high, Himself a Whole — the Whole — I am not — I Am part of a part which part at the first was All, Part of the Darkness that gave birth to Light ; Proud Light that now would from her rank displace Maternal Night — and wars with her for space, Yet is no gainer — for, strive as it will. Light clings — imprisoned slave — to Bodies still. It streams from Bodies — it makes Bodies bright — * A body intercepts it in its course ; This gives the hope that Light may too perforce When Bodies perish be extinguished quite.

Faust. A creditable line of business this;

142 FA UST.

Your Nothing nothing has unmade, I wis The great projector sees his projects fail, And would do business on a smaller scale,

Meph. And even in this way Httle do I gain, Against this Nothing the coarse Somewhat will Obtrude. The rude World contradicts me still. The clumsy lump of jfilth in proud resistance Asserting undeniable existence, I have been pounding at it all in vain. I have tried deluge, tempest, thunder, and Lightnings — at rest you see it still remain Inviolate — the self-same sea and land. On the damned stuff,— rank spawn of man and beast, I can make no impression— not the least. What crowds on crowds I've buried — little good — ■ It but sets circulating fresh young blood. On they go — on, replenishing, renewing, It drives me mad to see the work that's doing. From water, air, earth, germs of life unfold, '

Thousands in dry and damp, in warm and cold — Flame still is mine — I've kept that — Flame alone, Else were there nothing specially my own.

Fmist. Is it thou ? — thou standing there ? — thou to resist The healthful energy, the animation, The force that moves and moulds, and is creation — In vain spite clenching that cold devil's fist ? Strange son of Chaos this may well move laughter.

FAUST. 143

Meph. Well — this point we may talk about hereafter — But now, with your permission, I would go.

Faust. That you can, whether I permit or no, *Why ask me ? Now that you have found your way,

I hope to see you often here. Good day !

This is the window — that the door — and yonder The chimney. Why thus stare about and ponder ?

MepJu I. am not free : a little obstacle, I did not see, confines me to your cell,— The druid foot upon the threshold traced.

Faust. The pentagram ? — is it not to your taste ? But, son of hell, if this indeed be so, How came you in, I should be glad to know, — ■ How was it, that the charm no earlier wrought ?

Meph. The lines were not as perfect as they ought : The outer angle's incomplete.

Faust. Well — ^twas a pleasant evening's feat— A most unlooked-for accident — Strange prize, and yet more strangely sent.

Meph. The dog, without perceiving it, Leaped in — the devil has somehow Seen it — is in the house — and nov/ Can find no way of leaving it.

Faust. Why not the window ?

Meph. Why ?— because

It is enacted in the laws Which binds us devils and phantoms, '• that

144 FAUSTo

Whatever point we enter at, We at the same return:" — thus we In our first choice are ever free ; — Choose, and the right of choice is o'er, We, who were free, are free no more.

Faust. Hell has its codes of law then — well, I will think better now of hell. If laws be binding and obeyed, Then compacts with you may be made.

Aleph. Made and fulfilled, too — nowhere better — We keep our compacts to the letter ; But points of law like this require Some time and thought — are apt to tire, And I am hurried — we may treat On them at leisure when we meet Again — but now I ask permission To go.

Faust One moment — I am wishing

To question further one who brings Good news, and tells such pleasant things.

Meph. Let me go now — I come again, You may ask any question then.

Faust. Ay, old fox, ay, come catch me there — I laid no net — I set no snare, And if you walked into tlie trap — 'Twas your own act, and my good hap ; Luck like this can hardly last — Catch the devil and keep him fast —

FAUST, 145

Part with a prize, on which none could have reckoned ! The first chance gone, pray who will give a second?

Meph. If you insist on it — I stay ; And just to while the hours away, I would amuse you, as I may ; For I have pleasant arts and power, With shows to while the passing hour.

Faust. If it be pleasant, try your art — As audience I will play my part.

Meph. In one hour shall more intense Pleasure flow on every sense, Than the weary year could give. In such life as here you live — The songs soft spirits sing to thee, The images they bring to thee, Are no empty exhibition Of the skill of a magician ; Pictures fair and music's tone, Speak to eye and ear alone ; But odours sweet around thee sporting, Lingering tastes thy palate courting, Feelings gratified, enraptured. All thy senses shall be captured. Preparation need not we — Spirits, begin your melody.

Spirits \sin^. Vanish, dark arches, ' That over us bend, Let the blue sky in beauty

146 FAUST.

Look in like a friend. Oh , that the black clouds

Asunder were riven, That the small stars were brightenim

All through the wide heaven ! And look at them smiling

And sparkling in splendour, Suns, but with glory

More placid and tender ; Children of heaven,

In spiritual beauty.

Descending, and bending

With billowy motion,

Downward are thronging, Willing devotion

Flowing to meet them, Loving hearts longing,

Sighing to greet them. O'er field and o'er flower,

On bank and in bower. The folds of their bright robes

In breezy air streaming. Where loving ones living

In love's thoughtful dreaming, Their fond hearts are giving

For ever away.

FAUST. 1 47

Bower on bovver,

Tendril and flower ; ./

Clustering grapes,

The vine's purple treasure, Have fallen in the v/ine-vat, And bleed in its pressure — Foaming and steaming, the new wine is streaming, Over agate and amethyst, Rolls from its fountain, Leaving behind it

Meadow and mountain, And the hill-slopes smile greener, far down where it

breaks Into billowy streamlets, or lingers in lakes. And the winged throng, drinking deep of delight From the rivers of joy, are pursuing their flight. Onward and onward, Wings steering sun- ward, Where the bright islands, with magical motion^ Stir with the waves of the stirring ocean. Where we hear 'em shout in chorus, Or see 'em dance on lawns before us, As over land or over waters Chance the idle parties scatters; Some upon the far hills gleaming, Some along the bright lakes streaming, Some their forms in air suspending,

148 FAUST.

Float in circles never-ending. The one spirit of enjoyment, Aim, and impulse, and employment ; All would breathe in the far distance Life, free life of full existence With the gracious stars above them, Smiling down to say they love them. Meph. He sleeps, — thanks to my little favourites- Why ye have fairly sung away his wits, And so he thought the devil to catch and keep ! — Well, well, I am a concert in your debt — Still cloud with dreams his unsuspecting sleep, Antic and wild ! — still in illusion steep His fancy ! — hover round and round him yet, Haply dreaming, that I am Prisoner of the pentagram ! — Tooth of rat N . . gets rid of that . . . Gnawing, sawing, bit by bit, Till there be no trace of it ; — Little need of conjuring, Rats to such a place to bring ; One is rustling in the wall. He will hear my whispered call —

The master of the Mice and Rats, Flies and Frogs, and Bugs and Bats, Sends his summons to appear ; —

FAUST. 149

Forth ! and gnaw the threshold here ; —

He hath spilt the fragrant oil,

Till it vanish tooth must toil : —

— Sir Rat hath heard me — see him run

To the task that soon is done \

Yonder angle 'tis, confines

Your master — gnaw the meeting-lines : —

Now the corner, near the door,

All is done in one bite more.

The prisoner and the pentagram are gone, Dream, Faust, until we meet again, dream on !

Faust, [awaking]. Am I again deceived? — and must I deem These gorgeous images, but phantoms shaped In the delusion of a lying dream ? And so there was no devil at all, 'twould seem--' And it was but a poodle that escaped !

Faust's Sftidy. Faust, Mephistopheles.

Faust. A knock ! — Come in — who now comes to torment me?

Meph. 'Tis I.

Faiist. Come in.

Meph. You must command me thrice.

Faust. Come in, then.

I50 FAUST.

Meph. That will do— I'm satisfied— We soon shall be the best friends in the world. \_Enters, From your mind to scatter wholly The mists of peevish melancholy. Hither come I now, and bear Of a young lord the noble air, And mask me in his character ; My dress is splendid, you behold, Blazing with the ruddy gold, With my stiff silken mantle's pride. And the long sword hanging by my side, And o'er my cap the cock's proud feather — > I'm a fine fellow altogether. And now, my friend, without delay, Equip yourself in like array. That, light and free, you thus may see Life's many pleasures what they be !

Fmist. In every dress alike I can but feel Life the same torture, earth the self-same prison ; For your light pleasures I am all too old, Too young to have the sting of passion dead, The world — what can it give ? " Refrain, refrain !" This is the everlasting song— the chime Perpetually jingling in all ears. And with hoarse accents every hour repeats it. Each morn, with a dull sense of something dreadful^ I wake, and from my bitter heart could weep To see another day, which^ in its course,

FAUST. 151

Will not fulfil one wish of mine — not one !

I The teasing crowd of small anxieties,

That each day brings, have frittered into dust

All joy, until the very hope of joy

Is something, that the heart has ceased to feel ; —

And life's poor masquerade — vapid and wayward,

And worthless as it is — breaks in upon.

And dissipates, the world, which for itself

The lonely man's imagination builds ;

' — And, when the night is come, with heavy heart

Must I lie down upon my bed, where rest

Is never granted me, where wild dreams come,

Hideous and scaring. The in-dwelling spirit.

Whose temple is my heart, who rules its powers,

Can stir the bosom to its lowest depths.

But has no power to move external nature ;

And therefore is existence burdensome.

And death desirable, and life detested.

Meph. Yet Death's a guest not altogether welcome.

Faust. Oh, happy he for whom, in victory's hour Of splendour, Death around his temples binds The laurel dyed with blood, and happy he, Whom, after the fast whirl of the mad dance. Death in his true love's arms reposing finds. Would that I too had, in such rapturous trance, My individual being lost in his Dissolved before that lofty Spirit's might, Past, soul and sense absorbed, away for ever \

152 FAUST.

Meph. And yet that night I've seen a certain man Forbear to taste a certain dark brown liquid !

Faust. A spy too — peering — prying — is it not so ?

Meph. I know not all, but many things I know.

Faust. And if from harrowing thoughts the rich old chaunt Did win me ; and the old remembered words, And the old music, like a spell recalling Faded remembrances ;— if in the trance All that remained of my boy's heart was captive To the charmed echo of more happy days — Know I not — feel I not it was illusion ? We are but what the senses make of us, And this and all illusion do I curse, All that beguiles us, man or boy — that winds Over the heart its nets and chains us here In thraldom down or voluntary trance, This magic jugglery, that fools the soul — These obscure powers that cloud and flatter it ! Oh, cursed first of all be the high thoughts That man conceives of his own attributes ! And cursed be the shadowy appearances, The false delusive images of things That slave and mock the senses ! cursed be The hypocrite dreams that soothe us when we think Of me — of deathless and enduring names ! Cursed be all that, in self-flattery. We call our own, — wife, child, and slave, and plough ; —

FAUST, 153

Curse upon Mammon, when with luring gold

He stirs our souls to hardy deeds, or when

He smoothes the couch of indolent repose ;

A curse upon the sweet grape's balmy juice,

And the passionate joys of love, man's highest joys —

And cursed be all hope and all belief;

And cursed, more than all^ man's tame endurance.

Song of i?ivisibie Spirits.

Woe, woe ! thou hast destroyed it !

This beautiful world : Mighty his hand, who dealt

The blow thro' Nature felt.

Earth withers :

A demigod cursed it — A shock from the Spirit that shaped and enjoyed it; A blight from the bosom that nursed it ; The fragments we sweep down Night's desolate steep, ' The fading glitter we mourn and we weep !

Proud and powerful Son of earth, To second birth,

Call again the pageant splendid — Oh, restore what thou hast rended — Be no more the wreck thou art- Recommence, with clearer sense,

154 FAUST,

And build within thy secret heart ; Re-create, with better fate, Another world on firmer ground, And far and near, and all around. With songs of joy and triumphing, Heaven and the happy earth shall ring. Meph. Listen to the witching lay !

Wise and wily ones be they ;

Little ones of mine, and good

Children are they — sly and shrewd :

Childlike are their voices— age

Never uttered words more sage ;

Active life— the joys of sense

Counsels all experience, —

And my little ones do well,

Courting thee 'mong men to dwell,

Far from this monastic cell ;

Where passions and young blood together

In solitude grow dry and wither.

Oh^ listen, and let charms like these

Thy feelings and thy fancy seize.

Cease to indulge this misanthropic humour,

Which like a vulture preys upon thy life ;

The worst society will make thee feel

That thou, too, art a man, and among men —

Not that I mean to mix you with the rabble.

I'm not myself one of the higher orders ;

But if you will in company with me

FAUST, 155

See life, I will contrive to maiicage matters, And make arrangements to convenience you, Cheerfully — from this moment am your comrade ; Or, if you like me, am your servant — nay, Your slave.

Faust. And what must I give in return ?

Meph. Oh, time enough to think of that hereafter.

Faust, No, no ! the devil is selfish — very selfish — Does nothing for God's sake or from good nature : Come, out with your conditions, and speak plainly — There's little luck, I trow, with such a servant.

Meph. I bind myself to be thy servant here^ To ran and rest not at thy beck and bidding ; And when we meet again in yonder place, There^ in like manner thou shalt be my servant.

Faust. That yonder place gives me but small concern ; When thou hast first shattered this world to atoms, There may be others then, for aught I care. All joys, that I can feel, from this earth flow, And this sun shines upon my miseries ! And were I once divorced from them I care not What may hereafter happen — of these things I'll hear no more — I do not seek to know If man, in future life, still hates and loves ; If in those spheres there be^ as well as here, Like differences of suffering and enjoyment, Debasement and superiority.

Meph. With feelings such as these you well may venture.

156 FAUST,

Make only the engagement, and at once All will be pleasure — I have rare devices, And of my craft will show thee many marvels, Right strange and merry scenes will conjure up : Sights shalt thou see that man hath never seen.

Faust Thou — what hast thou — poor devil? The mind of man, Man's seeking — struggling spirit — hopes — aspirings Infinite — are they things to be conceived By natures su-ch as thou art ? Yet hast thou^ Poor devil, in thy degree a wherewithal To wile and win us ; deUcates uncloying Are — are they not ? — among those lures of thine ? Yea 1 hast thou the red gold that restlessly Like quicksilver slides from the hand — a game At which none wins, yet is it play ? — a girl That with her lavish arms around my breast, With willing eyes ogles and wooes another. —And splendour hast thou ? — rank — wilt give me these ? The starlight meteors of ambition's heav'n ? Aye ! let me see this pleasant fruit of thine That rots before we gather it — the trees That each day bud and bloom anew.*

Meph. Fine things to fancy ! — to be sure you shall Have this or any thing you wish to ask for, — Something less spiritual were something better ; ■^ " The w'orlde tlial iicwclli every daic.'' — GowER, Coufcssio Aniantis.

FAUST.

But by and by we'll find the Doctor's taste Improving, — we'll have our own pleasant places, And our tit bits — and our snug little parties, And — what will keep the Doctor's spirit quiet ; — — I promise you, you'll feel what comfort is.

Faust. Comfort and quiet ! — no, no ! none of these For me — I ask them not — I seek them not. If ever I upon the bed of sloth Lie down and rest, then be the hour, in which I so lie down and rest, my last of life. Canst thou by falsehood or by flattery Delude me into self-complacent smiles, ' Cheat me into tranquillity ? come, then, And welcome life's last day — be this our wager.

Me ph. Done.

Faust. Done, say I clench we at once the bargain. If ever time should flow so calmly on, Soothing my spirits into such oblivion. That in the pleasant trance I would arrest, And hail the happy moment in its course, Bidding it Hnger with me — " Oh, how fair Art thou, delicious moment !" — " Happy days, Why will ye flee ?" — " Fair visions ! yet a little Abide with me, and bless me — fly not yet," Or words like these — then throw me into fetters- Then willingly do I consent to perish ; Then may the death-bell peal its heavy sounds ;

157

158 FAUST.

Then is thy service at an end — and then

The clock may cease to strike — tlie hand to move —

For me be time then passed avv^ay for ever

Meph. Think well upon it — we will not forget.

Faust. Remember, or forget it, as you please ; I have resolved — and that not rashly : here^ While I remain, I needs must be a slave — AVhat matter, therefore, whether thine, or whose ?

Meph. I'll then, belike, at the Doctors' Feast to-day Attend, your humble friend and servitor. Just one thing more— as life and death's uncertain, I'd wish to have a line or two in writing,

Faust, And dost thou ask a writing, too, poor pedant? Know you not Man ? Man's nature ? or Man's word ? Is it not enough that I have spoken it ? My very life — all that I have and am, What is it but an echo of my word, Pledge of the will that gives it utterance ? If words be nothing, what is writing more ? Is the world's course one sea of stormy madness,-^ Its thousand streams, in conflict everlasting, Raving tegardlessly ? roll they not on? Must they not roll ? — and can it be that I, In this perpetual movement, shall not move- Held back, the slave and prisoner of a promise ? Yet in this fancy all believe alike : If a delusion, all men are deluded—

FAUST. 159

And is there one that would be undeceived? Truth and the feeling of integrity- Are of the heart's own essence — should they call For sufferings, none repents the sacrifice. Oh, happy he, whom Truth accompanies In all his walks — from outward cumbrance free — Pure of all soil — dwelling within the heart, Light to his steps and guidance : oracle To lead or to mislead, none doth he seek ; ^

Consults no casuist, but an honest conscience ; Of sacrifices recks not, and repents not. But a stamped parchment and a formal deed, With seal and signature, all shrink from this As something that offends and wounds our nature ; It robs, methinks, the words of all their life, The letter, and that only binds us now ; Such virtue, and no other can it have. As seal and stamp, as wax and parchment give — But why? — why argue for it or against it ? — Is writing more than the unwritten word ? — What, evil one, what is it you require ? Brass? marble? parchm.ent? paper?— do you wish Graver or chisel ? or plain pen and ink ? — Have which you please — any or all of them.

Meph. Why this excitement ? why this waste of oratory ? These frantic gestures ? — any scrap will do ; — Just scratch your name, there, in a drop of blood.

i6o FAUST.

Faust A silly farce — but if it gratifies you

Meph. Blood it must be — blood has peculiar virtues. Faust. Fear not that I will break this covenant : The only impulse now that sways my powers, My sole desire in life, is what I've promised ! I've been puffed up with fancies too aspiring, My rank is not more high than thine ; I am Degraded and despised by the Great Spirit ; Nature is sealed from me ; the web of thought Is shattered ; burst into a thousand threads ; I loathe, and sicken at the name of knowledge. Now in the depths of sensuality To still these burning passions ; to be wrapped In the impenetrable cloak of magic, With things miraculous to feast the senses ! Let's fling ourselves into the stream of time, Into the tumbling waves of accident, Let pain and pleasure, loathing and enjoyment. Mingle and alternate, as it may be ; Restlessness is man's best activity.

Meph. Nothing whatever is there to restrain you — If your desires be as you say, to taste Of every sweet — sip all things — setde nowhere — Catching each moment while upon the wing In random motion all that meets the eye, Rifling from every flower its bloom and fragrance, If any thing will do that is amusing—

FAUST. I6l

I wish you joy of this new life — come on —

Set to at once — come — come, no bashful loitering.

Fmist Hearken. I have not said one word of bliss — Henceforth do I devote and yield myself, Heart, soul, and life, to rapturous excitement — Such dizzy, such intoxicating joy, As, when we stand upon a precipice. Makes reel the giddy sense and the brain whirl 1 From this day forward am I dedicate To the indulgence of tempestuous passion — Love agonising — idolising hatred — Cheering vexation — all that animates And is our nature ; and the heart, serened And separated from the toil of knowledge, Cured of the fever that so long oppressed it, Shall cease to shut itself against the wounds Of pain : whate'er is portioned 'mong mankind In my own intimate self shall I enjoy, With my soul grasp all thoughts most high or deep, Heap on my heart all human joys and woes. Expand myself until mankind become A part as 'twere, of my identity, And they and I at last together perish.

Meph. A pretty passion for a man to cherish ! Believe me, who have for some thousand years, Day after day, been champing this hard food, Bitter bad diet is the same old leaven.

F

i63 FAUST.

Take a friend's word for it who ought to know, Never hath man from cradle to the bier Succeeded in digesting the tough dough ; To man the Universal is not given. The Whole is only for a God — in light He lives — eternal hght — Us hath he driven Into the darkness — yours is Day and Night,

Faust. This daunts not me !

Meph. Said boldly and said well !

To me there seems to be one obstacle ; Ars lo7tga, vita brevis — the old story — Take a few lessons more^and then determine. Call to your aid some builder up of verses, Let his mind wander in the fields of thought; Imagining high attributes to heap On you — the lion's magnanimity — The fleetness of the stag — the fiery blood That dances in the hearts of Italy — The constancy and firmness of the North- Let his invention gift you with the secret, With lofty thoughts low cunning to combine — To love with all a young heart's ardent impulses, Yet following closely some cold plan of reason — And thus to reconcile each contrariety. A pleasant person this Herr Microcosmos, I think IVe met him somewhere in society.

Faust, What cin7 I then — if here too all in vain

FAUST. 1G3

The passions and the senses pant and strahi, If this — the crown of onr humanity- Is placed on heights I never can attain?

Meph. You are just what you are — nay — never doubt it Heap lying curls in millions on your head ; On socks — a cubit high — plant your proud tread, You are just what you are — that's all about it.

Faust. Alas ! in vain poor I together scraped All that man's science till this day hath shown ; And all that his imagination shaped. I in ambition's dreams have made my own. A weary task it was — a sullen strife, And now I sit me down, helpless, alone, No nev/ power comes — no strength— no spring of life. Not by a hair's breadth higher is my height, Far — far as ever from the infinite.

Meph. Aye ! this is man's presumptuous view- Mine, less ambitious, is more true — Why to these moody fancies give The rein ? while living, why not live ? Why^ what the mischief ! you have got Your head-^hands^iaunch-paunch — and — what not — But all that I employ — enjoy — Is it less mine ? When to my car j My money yokes six spankers, are Their limbs not my limbs .? Is't not I On the proud race-course that dash by ?

F 2

1 64 FAUST.

Yes, I it is tliat sweep along,

Swift in their speed — in their strength, strong — ■

Mine all the forces I combine —

The four-and-twenty legs are mine —

Up ! up 1 throw off this cloud of gloom !

Come ! come ! — into the world — come 1 come ! —

Away with dreams — your theorist

Is — let me tell you — like a beast

On a dry heath, whom a bad Spirit

In one dull circle round and round

Keeps whirling, while on all sides near it

The bright green pastures everywhere abound,

Faust. But how begin ?

Meph. First, must we fly from hence-

What place of martyrdom is this ? what life Is this to lead ? or can you call it life. Wearying yourself and pupils thus for ever ? Better leave such work to your neighbour Paunchman, Why stay to plague yourself with threshing straw ? Afraid, even in a hint, to intimate Your best acquirements to the boys who crowd Your lecture-room ; even now upon the passage I hear the foot of one.

Faust. Impossible ; I cannot see him nov/.

Mcph. The poor lad has been waiting a long while | A\'e should not let him go without some notice ; A quarter of an hour will do for him —

FAUST. 165

Come, Doctor, help me on with your cap and gown,

Trust to my wits — I rather like the whim —

This masquerade dress becomes me cliarmingly,

Meanwhile, you may be getting into trim

Fit for this fashionable trip of ours. \^Exit Faust.

Mephistopheles in Faust's long gown.

Ay, thus continue to contemn

Reason and knowledge, man's best powers,

And every hope he can inherit !

Still speak despisingly of them,

Heart-hardened by an evil spirit ;

Soul and senses in confusion,

Mocked by magical delusion ;

Still indulge derision vain.

Mine thou art, and must remain !

His is an eager, restless mind,

That presses forward unconfined

And, in the anticipation

Of a brisk imagination,

Ever active, still outmeasures

The slow steps of earthly pleasures %

Him, through the world's wild vanity,

Its wearisome inanity, ^

I Will I hurry forward, thus /

Breaking his impetuous

And fiery temper — he will sprawl,

1 66 FAUST.

And start, and stand — then stick and fall- Meats and v/ines unsatisfying Shall before his lips be flying — The withered spirit seeks in vain Health and refreshment to obtain — What need of seal and signature In blood, such spirit to secure ?

Student e7itcrs.

Stu. I am but just arrived — your name My chief attraction ; and I came At once, — ^^forgive my strong desire To see and speak to him, v/hose fame Has spread so far — whom ail admire.

Meph. Fame has been most obliging, then * You see a man like other men — Did you seek farther, you might meet Abler instructors,

Sfic. I entreat Your care and counsel — with a guide Where could I better be supplied ? I come with heart and spirits free, And youth— and the professor's fee; My mother scarce would let me coriie j ]-3ut I love learning more than home — Have for improvement travelled far

Meph. And in the best place for it are.

FA UST, :i6j

Stu. And yet, if I the truth may say, I would I were again away :

Walls like these, and halls like these, ^

Will, I fear, in no wise please ! I'he narrow gloom of this cold room, Where nothing green is ever seen ; No lawn — no tree — no floweret's bloom — ■■

'Mong benches, books, my heart is sinking, And my wasted senses shrinking — I mourn the hour that I came hither ; Ear and eye, and heart will die. Thought, and the power of thought, will wither,

Mepli. This is all custom : as at first UnwiUingly the young child sips The breast ; but soon, with eager thirst, And pressure of delighted lips, Clings to the mother's hearty that gives The living food on which he lives ; '

Thus thou, each day more deeply blest, Wilt drink from Wisdom's nursing breast.

Stu. Oh, to my heart shall she be strained With love ! — but how is she obtained ?

Meph. First, let me beg, that you will mention What line of life is your intention ?

Stu. Oh, I long ardently to know Whatever man may learn below, AH that we contemplate on earth,

1 68 FAUST,

And ail that in the heaven hath birth,

To roam through learning's wondrous maze,

And comprehend all Nature's ways.

Meph. Right ; but by prudence still be guided, Guard most, that thought and mind be not Much dissipated and divided.

Stu. With soul and strength will I apply, But now and then could seize with pleasure A it'N short hours of idle leisure. A little thoughtless liberty ; A pleasant summer holyday. When skies are bright, and fields are gay.

Meph. Make good use of your time, for fast Time flies, and is for ever past ; To make time for yourself begin By order — method — discipline ; For this I counsel my young friend A course of logic to attend j Thus will your mind, well-trained, and high, In Spanish boots stalk pompously ! With solemn look, and crippled pace, The beaten road of thought will trace : Nor here and there, through paths oblique, In devious wanderings idly strike ; For days and days you then are taught^ I'hat, in what hitherto had gone. Like eating, and like drinking, on, /

FAUST. 169

One, Two, and Three, the guide must be In this which seemed till now so free. But, as the weaver's work is wrought, Even so is formed the web of thought ; One movement leads a thousand threads, Unseen they move, as now above The shuttle darts, now darts below ; One beat combines a thousand twines, And not unhke would seem the flow Of mind, when Nature thinks in us. But now in steps Philosophus^ To prove it could not but be thus. " The first was so — the seco?id so — Then must the third ajid fourth be so — And if the premises be hollow^ That the conclusion will not follow^ The language this of all the schools The Art of Weaving taught by rules That men profound and boys beHeve ! • — Do they teach any one to weave ? Here he, who seeks to learn, or gives Descriptions of, a thing that lives. Begins with '• murdering, to dissect,'* The lifeless parts he may inspect — The limbs are there beneath his knife, And all — but that which gave them life ! Alas ! the spirit hath withdrawn,

lyo FAUST,

That which informed the mass is gone —

They scrutinize it, when it ceases

To be itself, and count its pieces —

Finger and feel them, and call this

Experiment — analysis.

Is what v/e handle then the whole ?

Is there no animating soul ?

In Nature is there nothing meant ?

No law, no language of intent ?

Oh ! could your chemist, in whose hand

The fragments are, but understand

The terms he uses ! ^'' Encheiresis

Naturce^ — for the phrase expresses

With scorn, that it seems strange should be

In words thus accidentally.

How less than nothing can avail

These tricks of dabbling and detail.

Sin. I cannot v/holly comprehend your meaning.

Meph. No matter — next time you'll get better on- When you have learned to arrange^ and classify, And body all you hear in syllogisms.

Stu, My brain is stupefied — I feel As if, within my head, a wheel Was whirling. round with ceaseless reel.

Meph, Next — most important thing of all — With zeal to metaphysics fall. There, see — or think that you see— plain,

FAUST. 171

What — does not pass within the brain. Our faculties are too confined To guide us here — the human mind Fails — and we are and must be blind. Thoughts are or are not in the head, — Use serviceable words instead ; But first be sure the next half-year At every lecture to appear — Five hours each day for lecturing — Be there the moment the bells ring. Be sure beforehand to prepare, Have read the syllabus with care ; Have every paragraph well conned, Watch, lest the teacher go beyond The matter written in his book ; Then, as you write his dictates, look That you take down verbatim all And every sentence he lets fall, As if each sentence scripture were^ That comes from the professor's chair.

Stii. This, sir, you need not tell me twice— I feel how useful the advice ; What one has thus in black and white, He can take home with him at night.

Meph. But what profession is your choice ?

Sin. Law shall not ever have my voice.

Meph. In this, I own, you show discerning s

173 FAUST.

I know, and do not love, this learning.

Laws every where are like the taint

Of an inherited complaint,

The curse of" an infected race :

Their downward progress you may trace,

From land to land, through blighted nations,

Afflicting distant generations —

Reason made nonsense, good intent.

In lapse of time warped from its true sense,

Things for the common welfare meant,

Becoming thus a common nuisance.

Unhappy, that it was thy fate

To have been born an age too late.

The laws for thy great grandsire made

Are laws to thee — miist be obeyed —

Must be obeyed, and why ? Because,

Bad though they be, they are the laws ;

But of the rights by Nature taught.

And born with man, they take no thought.

Stu. You deepen my abhorrence for That, which I did before abhor — I wish to learn Theology.

Meph. I fear to lead you wrong — and I Speak here with more of hesitation. It is a dangerous vocation. This same Theology : its ways Are such a tangled serpent maze —

FAUS1\

Such poison every where disguised — And every where as medicine prized —

That which is which, or why 'tis so,

Few can conjecture — none can know.

The best thing that the case affords

Is — stick to some one doctor's words :

Maintain his doctrines out and out,

Admit no quahfying doubt ;

But stick to words at any rate^

Their magic bids the temple gate

Of Certainty fly safely ope —

Words, words alone are your best hope.

Shi. But in each word must be a thought-— Mcph. There is, or we may so assume, —

Not always found, nor always sought,

While words — mere words, supply its room.

Words answer well, when men enlist 'em,

In building up a favourite system ;

With words men dogmatize, deceive ;

With words dispute, on words believe ;

And be the meaning much or little,

The Word can lose nor jot nor tittle.

Stii. Pardon — I feel my questions tease you.

Just for a moment more — one word

On Medicine, so please you.

With but three years for it, it were absurd

For one like me, without a guide,

173

174 FAUST.

To enter on a course so wide ; And your experience may suggest, In such a field, what path is best.

Mc^ph. [aside], I'm sick of this pedantic tone, Too long assumed. Now for my own !

\_AIo2td.'] The trade of Medicine's easiest of all : 'Tis but to study all things — every v/here — Nature and man — the great world and the small — Then leave them at hap-hazard still to fare. It is, you see, plainly impossible That one man should be skilled in every science — Who learns the little that he can, does well : The secret of the art is self-reliance. A man can learn but what he can ; Who hits the moment is the man. — You are well made — have common sense, And do not want for impudence. Be fearless — others will confide no less. When you are confident of your success— The only obstacle is indecision ; But, above all, win to yourself the women — They have their thousand weaknesses and ache?;, And the one cure for them is the Physician. A due consideration for the sex Will teach the value of decorous seeming: Let but appearances be unsuspicious. And they are every thing their doctor wishes. The title " Doctor " is essential.

FAUST. 175

Our university credential,

That, as in one approved and tried,

TIrey may undoubtingly confide.

Then in the very earliest stage

Of new acquaintanceship you lead them,

Enjoying every privilege , '

Of tete-atete familiar freedom ;

Although the young physician's eyes

Exhibit half, and half disguise

Something, like tenderness, the while

Mingling with the habitual guile

Of the sly acquiescent smile :

Then may you feel the taper v;rist,

Nor will there one of them resist

The hand professionally prest

— Permitted boldness — on her breast,

Or round her waist the free arm thrown,

To feel how much too tight her zone.

Stii. This seems more feasible — one sees Something like reason in all this — Winning the household through the wife,

Meph. Theory, friend, is old and grey, And green the golden tree of life !

Stii. Is this reality ?—so like a dream All seems ! May I, upon some future day, Resume my visit ? — learn the grounds and root Of these your doctrines ?

MepJi. Come when it may suit.

176 FAUST.

StiL One favour more- — deem not your guest Intrusive — grant me this -request — Just in my album write a line.

Meph. With pleasure. [ Writes^ and returns the hook.

Stu. [reads]. Eritis sicut D^us, sdentes bonuni et niihint.

\Shuts it respectfully^ and exit.

Meph. If the wily proverb guide thee, and my cousin the sly snake, A weary man thy likeness to the gods will of thee make !

Faust. [Fnters.] Where go we now ?

Meph. Oh ! wheresoe'er you please !—

See all that's to be seen in common life, And then, so please you, visit the gay world. Dancing and revelling scot-free, and careless Who pays the piper.

Faust. What, with my long beard ?

How shall I trim it into decent shape ? '

And I want ease of manners, and the knowledge Of life — why, the experiment must fail ! I cannot — never could at any time — Be what society requires : I am Abashed in company — shall every moment Be at a loss !

Meph. My good friend, have no fear

On this score — be but self-possessed — that is The only art of life.

FAUST. 177

Faust. How do you mean

To travel ? — where are servants, horses, carriage ?

Meph. We only spread this mantle out, and it Wafts us through air in this our daring journey. Bring out with you no loads of heavy baggage : A little gas, which I will soon have ready, Will lift us high above the earth ; — light laden, We will move fast, and soon be far away ! Welcome, my friend, to the new life before you--- A pleasant change. I wish you joy of it !

Auerbach's Cellar in Leipzig. — Set of Merry Companions,

Frosch. Is no one laughing ? — no one drinking ? Come, come, a truce to sober thinking ! Hang these long faces — come, be sprightly ! What, you that used to blaze so brightly ! All dull and damp — smoking together Like dunghill straw in rainy weather ?

Bra?ider. 'Tis your fault that we are not jolly — Have you no beastliness, no folly To treat us to to-night?

[Frosch throivs a glass of wine over Brander's head].

Have both.

Bran. Brute that you are ! Were I not loth

Fro. You got but what you asked me for.

Siebel Come, come, we'll have no civil war —

I7S FAUST.

We'll have no difference of opinion In this our absolute dominion. Whoever quarrels, kick him out — Now raise the chorus round about — Lift every voice, and swill, and shout —

With holla—holla— ho !

AUmayer. Help ! help ! I am lost—bring me cotton I the cheers Will split open my skull, and play hell with my ears.

Sie. When the arches ring again, We feel the bass in full power then.

Fro. Right, right, say I, v/ith all my heart; If any one in evil part Takes any thing, that here is done, Why, kick him out, the bitch's son.

Alt. A tara — lara — da.

Fro. All throats are tuned.

[Smgs.'] The Holy Romish empire now, How does it hold together ?

Bran. A nasty song — psha ! — a political song A most offensive song. Thank God each day, Rising from bed, that you have nought to say With governing this Romish empire ; I Greatly rejoice and bless my stars therefore^ I am not Emperor or Chancellor; Still I see no sufficient reason why

FAUST, 179

We should not have a ruler ; — I propose That we elect a Pope — what qualification Should mark a candidate for consecration, All of ye know. Fro. \_sings\.

Greet her, Lady Nightingale, Greet viy love ten thousand tiiues. Sie. Love-meetings and greetings— let us not hear of

them. Fro. Love-greetings and meetings — who can keep clear. of them ?

Sings.'] Undo the door in stilly niglit — Open latch — thy love keeps watch ; For thy sake — is he awake, Shut-to the door at morning's light, Sie. Yes ! sing, sing on — a little v/hile sing on ! Sing her sweet praises ! — I will laugh anon. Me she deceived, and thee she is deceiving, Devil that she is — whom there is no believing — Has played the same tricks with each man that sought her— I wish some goblin of the forest caught her On a cross-road — or that, from the witch-dances On Blocksberg, trotting home, an old buck-goat, With his long-bearded chin and meg-a-geg throat, Made up to her — 'tis some such brute she fancies ; A young fellow of proper flesh and blood,

i8o FAUST.

To be thus thrown away were far too good ; From me no serenading should she gain, Other than dashing in each window-pane.

Bra7t. \striki7ig 07i the table]. Silence there — silence— all attend to me — Gentlemen, I know life, and how to live ; And, as some of us seem in love to be, A song for love-sick people will I give. Your merry singer is the best physician For a poor devil in such sad condition. Here all of you attend — come, cease your chattering— And listen to a song of the first pattern — And all join in the chorus : —

Once in a cellar Hved a rat,

Whose paunch each day grew smoother ;

He dined on butter, supped on fat,

And looked like Doctor Luther.

The cook put poison in his way,

And when our poor rat tasted it,

He felt a cramping in his heart,

As fierce as if Love wasted it.

As fierce as if Love ivasted it.

And he ran round, and out he ran,

And looking for a cure, he

Drank at each puddle, gnawed, and scratched.

And raved in perfect fury.

FAUST. i8i

In pain he fell — in pain he sprang, The cook with pleasure gazed at it ; Poor creature felt at heart a pang, As fierce as if Love wasted it.

As fierce as if Love wasted it.

x\nd torture drove him at noon-day

To run into the kitchen ;

He fell down on the hearth, and lay

Convulsing there and screeching.

Loud laughed the cook to see him sprawl

In death, and feel she hasted it :

Ka! ha ! quoth she, your heart is gone,

As sure as if love wasted it.

As sure as if Love wasted it,

Sie. How the heavy logs enjoy it, As if a rat had nothing good. And 'twere a virtue to destroy it.

Bran. The rats, it seems, are special favourites; Creatures of generous gentle blood. And hold high place in your good graces.

Alt. Old baldpate, with the paunch there, — how his wits Are gone ! — to him the rat's case his own case is — With food too good for it the belly swollen, Then the poor thing in death convulsions rolling- No wonder it should jar and strike Upon his nerves — it is too Hke.

j82 FAUST.

Mephistopkeles and Faust enter.

Meph. [in conversation with FaustJ. — And first I feel anxiety, To show you our " Society Of merry fellows ;" — free and gay, Regular rioters are they, And their whole life is holiday ; The requisites for happiness Are few, are — what these men possess : With lively spirits — self-conceit — And little, — very little wit — 'Tis the same life, the whole year round, The self-same set together found ; — Each night, their songs — their drink — their game — Their mirth — their very jests the same ; And as its tail diverts a kitten. So they with their own jokes are smitten : They ask no more than thus to sup — Without a headache to get up — And while the host will credit give Are satisfied— and thus they live !

B7'an. They're travellers off a journey, you may see it In their odd manners — are not here an hour.

F7'o. You're right, quite right ! Leipzig, say I, for ever ! Leipzig's a little Paris in itself: You'd know our Leipzig people any where. Their manners are so finished.

FAUST. 183

Sie. But these strangers,

What think you, are they ?

Fro. Only wait a moment—

In the twinkle of a bumper I will tell you — I'll worm it out of them as easily As draw an infant's tooth : let me alone For managing them : I guess that they belong To the nobility, they look so haughty, So distant — you would almost say — displeased.

Bran. They are mountebanks, I'll' lay you any wager.

Alt. Probably.

Fro. See if I don't screw it out.

Meph. [to Faust]. Always the same, they never scent the devil, Even when he has them by the nape of the neck.

Faust. Your servant, gentlemen —

Sie. Thanks, sir. and yours —

\LooJdng at Mephistopheles, in a low tone.'] The fellow limps a little on one foot.

Meph. Will you permit us to sit down with you, And for good wine, which cannot be had here, Give us the pleasure of good company ?

Alt. You seem a most fastidious gentleman.

Fro. You are lately come from Rippach,are you not, sirs? — Have been at supper with old Hans to-night ?

Meph. To-day we did not stop ; — last time we spoke to him He told us some good stories of his cousins —

1 84 FAUST.

And sent his compliments to each of you.

Alt. A home-thrust that — the fellow's not to be done.

Sie. He knows the world, and how to make out life.

Fro. Wait, wait, until— I'll have him before long.

MepJi. Was I deceived, for just as we came in We heard, or thought we heard, a merry chorus Of practised voices ? — what a rich effect Music must have along this vaulted roof.

Fro. You are a virtuoso then —

Meph. 0\\ no !

My skill is next to none — but I love music.

Alt. Give us a song —

Meph. A hundred, if you please.

Sie. Something original — something brand-new.

Meph. We're just returned from Spain, romantic Spain, The land of wine and song. — \Sings.\

Once on a time there was a king,

A lovely queen had he — But dearer far than queen or son, He loved a big black flea.

Fro. A flea ! is it possible I heard him right ? A flea ! oh, what a guest to grace a palace !

Once on a time, there was a king,

A lovely queen had he — But dearer far than queen or son,

He loved a big black flea ! He called the royal tailor,

FAUST. 185

Who measures him, and stitches A coat for the young favourite, And a little pair of breeches. Bra?i. Forget not, sire, to charge the tailor strictly That they be well and fashionably made — And as he sets a value on his head, That he shall leave no seam, or plait, or wrinkle ! Meph. Of silk and satin were the clothes

Our young lord looked so fine in — He sported ribands — and a cross Upon his breast was shining ! Soon Minister, he wore a star, Lived splendidly and gaily. His poor relations all got place, And thronged the palace daily.

And Queen and Maid got bites and stings,

And were afraid to scratch 'em ; They cursed the flea and all his kin,

But did not dare to catch 'em ! But we, if we get sting or bite,

None hinders us to scratch 'em ; And if the fleas be troublesome, We kill them when we catch 'em.

Chorus. — And if , &>€. F7'o. Bravo ! bravo ! that was excellent. Sie. We'll catch and play the devil with the fleas.

i86 FAUST,

Bran. "With pointed nail and linger, pressed together.

Alt. Freedom and Wine for ever ! — Wine and Freedom.

Meph. Willingly would I drink long life to Freedom ; But that your wines are execrably bad.

Sie. You must not venture to say this again !

Meph. Only I fear to vex our worthy host, I'd give you something better from our cellars.

Sie. Out with it then. I'll take the blame on me.

Fro. Pour out a bumper if you wish to please us — None of your sample thimblefuls for me — When I try wine, I like a deep long draught — That is the only way to judge of it.

Alt. \in a low voice.'] I've strong suspicions they are from the Rhine.

Meph. Bring me a gimlet.

Bra?i. What to do with it ?—

You cannot have your wine-casks at the door.

Alt. Behind, there, is the landlord's chest of tools.

Meph. [taki7ig np the gimlet.'] Now say what wine you wish.

Fro. What do you mean?

Have you so many?

Meph. Each may choose his favourite.

Alt. {to Fkosch.) Ha ! you begin to lick your lips already.

Fro. Well then, if I may choose, I'll take the Rhenish : The best gifts we receive are from our country.

Meph. [boring a hole in the edge of the table opposite Frosch's seafi] Now get a little wax — and make some stoppers.

FAUSr. 1S7

Alt. 'Tis plain that they are jugglers. Meph. [to Brander.] Sir, your choice?

Bran. I'll have Champagne — sparkling Champagne forme! [Mephistopheles bores again ; one of the party hai in the meantime prepared the wax stoppers and stopped the gimlet holes. Bran. One cannot always do without the Foreigner — But give him to me in the shape of wine. A true-born German hates with all his heart A Frenchman— but their wines are excellent*.

Sie. \as Mephistopheles approaches his seat^ I'd have you know I hate all acid wines — Give me a glass of genuine sweet !

Meph. Tokay

Then let it be.

Alt. No, gentlemen, this won't do !

Now look me straight in the face, old mountebank t I see you but bamboozle us ! —

Meph. Yes, yes !

A very likely story — to play tricks On noble guests like you ! now fast — make ready — • Out with the word — pray, sir, what wine shall I give you ? Alt. Any ahd all ! whatever t can get.

[After all the holes are bored and stopped^ Mephis- topheles, with strange gestures^ Grapes are of the vine-branch born ; The buck-goat's is a branch of horn

i88 FAUST.

Wine is sap — and grapes are wood, The wooden board yields wine as good. All is clear to him that seeth — Lift the veil and look beneath, It is but a deeper glance Under Nature's countenance — Now behold — your prophet saith — Miracles— if you have faith. Every man draw up his stopper, And drink such wine as he thinks proper. AH. [as they draw the stoppers^ and the wine each has chosen runs into his glass.] Flow on, bright rill — flow on and fill Our hearts with joy — flow on at will !

Meph. Drink — but be cautious how you spill; There's danger if a drop but falls. \They drink repeatedly. All. \sing?[ That we will — that we will ! Happy as the cannibals : Like five hundred swine we swill. Meph. Look at them, they're the happiest of men. Faust. Take me away — I'll not come here again. Meph. Wait till you see them in their glory : We'll soon have fun !

Sie. \drinki7ig carelessly ^ spills some of the wine., which turns to flame.'] Help, help ! fire, fire !— Hell fire !

Meph. Dov/n, friendly Element ! — be still, I say — — This time 'twas but a drop of purgatory !

FAUST. 189

Sie. What means the fellow? Damn him— he shall pay Dearly for this ; you'd think he did not know us. Fro. [to Mephistopheles.] Better take care no tricks like

this to show us. Ait The sooner we get rid of him the better — There's nothing to be had from such a debtor.

Sie. You, sir, are guilty of strange impropriety ; Playing your mountebank pranks in such society. Meph. Silence, old wine- tub !

Sie. Broomstick ! one would think

He might rest satisfied with these feats of his, Without being impudent into the bargain.

Bra7z. Be silent, and thankful that we do not flog you ! Alt. [draws a stopper out of the table ; fireflies out]. I'm

burnt — I'm burning ! Sie. ' Kill him— kill the scoundrel !

He's a magician ! — Kill him ! he's fair game !

[T/iey draw their knives a7id attack Mephistopheles. Meph. [with sole??7n gestures]. Wandering voices mock the ear ! Forms, that phantoms are, appear ! Be ye far away, and near ! Be ye there ! and be ye here !

[They stand gazing on each other in amazement. Alt. Where am I ? — in what lovely land ? Fro. What a show of vineyards near ! Sie. Clustering grapes invite the hand.

190 FAUST^

Bran. See them through the green Leaves here — Ripe and heavy — look at them ; — Oh ! what grapes and such a stem !

\He seizes Siebel by the nose. The others do the same one with the other, and ore raising tJieir knives. Mcph, [as from above]. Clouds of Error pass away ! See ye how the Devil can play ! Let each startled reveller See who plays the Devil here. [ Vanishes iviih Faust. Thefelloivs start back from one another. Sie. What's this ? Ait. How's this ?

Fro. Is this your nose ?

Fran, [to Siebel]. And yours^ on which my fingers close ? A/t. I feel the shock through every limb ; A chair ! — I faint ! — my eyes grow dim ! Fro. What is the matter with you all ? Sie. Where is he ? what's become of him ?

If I can catch him, how I shall

A/t. Catch him, indeed ! 'tis easy trying To deal with such — I saw him flying Out of the cellar on a cask — You may as well give up the task : Heavy as lead these feet of mine

Are grown. — [Turning toivards the lablcl We've lost our well' of wine.

FAUST. 191

Sie. All was deception — trick — design ! Fro. Yet, what I drank, I thought was wine ! Bra7i. The ripe grapes too — did they deceive ? ' — Who after this can but believe ?

Witch's Kitchen.

On a low hearth a large caldron is on the fire — iii the thick smoke are discovered several strafige figures. A female Cat-ape {little long-tailed monkey) is sittifig beside the caldron, to skim it, and take care it does not boil over. The male Cat-ape, with the young ones, sits ?iear, warm- ing himself ;—fa7itastic articles of furniture, suitable to the place, seen hajtgi?ig from the walls, 6^^.

Faust a?id Mephistopheles.

Faust. This senseless witchcraft sickens and disgusts me — And, sayest thou that I shall recruit life's powers, Here, in this loathsome den of filthy madness? — Shall I petition an old hag for counsel ? And can the nauseous puddle of that pot Make me a younger man by thirty winters ? There's little hope if thou hast nothing better — My expectation is already gone ! — Is there in Nature no restorative But this ? Has Spirit never yet devised Means different to restore the spring of life ?

MeJ)h. Now do I recognize my friend's good sense ;—

192 FAUST.

Yes ! there are also natural means, by which Life's bloom and vigour may again be given ; But in a different book this lesson lies, And it forms an odd chapter.

Faust. I will learn it.

Meph. There is a means, and it requires not gold, Magic, or medicine ; — away with you Into the fields — begin to hew and delve — , Confine yourself, and limit every wish Within a narrow circle — feed upon Meats, simple, undisguised — and live, in short, Beast-like, 'mong beasts — deem it no degradation Thyself to spread the dung upon the field The growth of which thou art to reap — this is Indeed the best way to repair life's powers. And wear at eighty a hale countenance.

Faust. This cannot be — I am not used to it — Nor can I learn to take up now the spade — Such narrow life would never do for me.

Meph. We must recur then to the witch.

Faust. Wliy so ?

— What's the particular use of an old hag In the matter ? Can't you cook the draught yourself?

Meph. That were a pretty waste of time — why, man, A thousand bridges might be built, before 'Tis done — it asks not skill and science only, But patience must brood over it — the spirit

FAUST. 193

In silence must remain for years fermenting ;

Time, and time only, clears and strengthens it, —

All things belonging to it are mysterious —

Its powers and its ingredients wonderful —

True —'twas the devil that first invented it,

But yet the devil can't make it — look — look, yonder —

What a handsome crew they are- — both maid and

man. — \To the Apes.] It seems the mistress is from home.

The Apes. Gone from home — to the rout, Through the chimney she went out ; Gone to carouse On the chimney stone on the top of the house !

Mcph. Will she stay Long away?

Apes. 'Twixt the time she comes and goes, We can scarcely warm our toes.

Meph. What think you of these dear young creatures ?

Faust. All makes me sick — voice, form, and features !

Meph. Well, I must own, I greatly relish The graces which their style embellish. \To the Apes.

Tell me, execrable baby, What the mess you mingle may be — And the lumps, my pretty jewel ! That are floating in the gruel.

Apes. A beggar's dish — we boil and stew it.

Meph. And most men, without knowing, chew it.

G

194 FAUST.

Old Ape. [fawning upon Mephistopheles.] Throw the dice — begin, begin — I am poor, so let me win — Me to win, and you to lose, Is the way that I would choose — Money's all in all j-^the witch Is made honesty if made rich. Give me gold, and by that rule,

Who will say I am a fool ? [watery,

Meph. As the Ape talks of gold, see his lips growing I wish we could get him a share in the Lottery.

The Old Ape \johilc the young Cat-apes are playing and rolling routid a large bowL]

Such is the world ! * So is it twirled, Now rolling onward, Now rolling downward, Ceaselessly, restlessly, Still does it spin ; Like glass it is brittle. And broken by little. Glimmering, shimmering, Llollow within — Living am I — Stop, my dear son, Thy sporting have done. Think thou must die !

FAUST, 195

All is clay,

And must crumble away ! MepJi. What's the purpose of the sieve ? Ape. If a man comes here to thieve, With this eye-glass thus we view him ; Raise it thus, and thus look through him,

\Ru7is to the Female, and makes her look through it at Mephistopheles- Through the sieve look there — look strait — Read his features — read his fate. Answer, if thou art not deaf — Dost thou know him— the old thief? Dost thou dread, from fear or shame, To name him by his proper name ?

MepJi. And what's the meaning of the pot? Ape. How silly a sot,

To ask what's what ; The fool knows not The use of the pot — The use of the kettle— Meph. Unmannerly wittol,

Be quiet a little. Ape. Be brisk — take the whisk, — and sit down on the setde. [Forces Mephistopheles to sit doivn.

Faust \ivJio has been ail this tiine before a glass, now ap- proaching, and nozv sta?iding off from it]. What is this that I see — how heavenly fair

G 3

196 FAUST,

The form that shines in this enchanted glass !

Oh ! lend me, Love, thy swift and silent wings,

That I may fly away to where she is !

Near me she seems, yet hopelessly removed,

And living in another atmosphere !

Alas ! if from this spot I do but stir,

If I but venture to approach more near.

There seems a dusky cloud to gather o'er her ; —

Image of woman, beyond woman fair^

Oh ! beautiful transcendently — has Earth

Charms such as this — in that reclining form.

Say rather that all charms of many heavens

United are. — Can this indeed be woman ?

Can this, indeed, be a created being ?

Meph. Fine cause of wonderment ! — after seven days Of work, if he who made this pretty world, And who admired his workmanship, made something. Worth looking at ! Ay, gaze on her in rapture — This, by the way, is one of these same treasures That I am pretty safe in promising : Blessed the man who brings the fair bride home !

[Faust cojitvmes looking into ike glass. — Mephis- TOPHELES, lolli?igon the Settle, and with the whisk i?i his ha7id, continues speaking. Here on my kingly throne I sit me down. With sceptre too — I only want a crown.

The Apes [7uho have been playing all kind oj fantastic

FAUST, 197

gambols, bring Mephistopheles a crown with loud accla- mations]. Monarch proud —

With sweat and blood Smear it — wear it — \^They hajidle the croivn awkwardly, and break it in two pieces, with which they go daficifig about. Tis done — 'twas to be ; We speak and we see — We hearken — we listen — We rhyme and we reason. Faust [still before the glass\ Alas ! I feel my senses leaving

me. Meph. And stranger stilly even my head's growing giddy ! Apes. We have words, and we can link Syllables that chime and chink ; Sense unsought — thus is caught j — Every jingle is a thought — Every word with meaning fraught — Language, glib and random, thus Does the work of thought for us ; Let but your own fancy mingle With the jargon and the jingle,

As you listen to the lays ; Bring the meaning you are gleaning, Give the poet all the praise. Fatist \as before]. My heart's on fire — let us depart. Meph. This is the true poetic art —

198 FAUST.

And I have never met with prettier poets, Could they but keep the secrets of their trade.

[The caldron, which the female Cat- ape has forgotten to attend to, begins to boil over — a great blaze arises, and sti'eams up the chimney. — The Witch comes down through the flame ivith horrid screams. The Witch. Ou ! Ou ! Ou ! Ou ! Damned beast ! cursed sow ! — The pot has boiled over — the broth's overturned, The liquor is lost, and the Mistress is burned ! Damned beast — And what is this ?

\Seei71g Faust and Mephistopheles. And who are ye ? What brings ye here ? Who sent ye here ? May fiery pain Burn bone and brain ! \pips the shimming ladle in the caldron, and sprinkles the flames at Faust, Mephistopheles, a7id the Cat-apes — the Apes whiiie. Meph. \^ flourishes the fan, and breaks pots and glasses \ Broken, broken ! Hell-broth splashing, Glasses crashing.

Payment for the words you've spoken ! It is all in sport, my honey !

FAUST. 199

Nothing but a frolic funny ! Keeping time, old carrion odious, Fitly with thy voice melodious !

\The Witch steps back with rage and astonishiiicnt. Knowest thou no more than that 0' me, Thou raw-boned old Anatomy ! Skeleton ! the devil blast her ! — Know you not your Lord and Master ? Shall I dash the old deceiver's Bones into a thousand shivers ? femash her, and cats, and crocks together? — Know ye not my vest's red leather ? Know ye not the cock-tail feather ? What mask is there upon my features, To hide me thus from my own creatures ? And am I called upon to mention My name, my rank, and my pretension ?

The Witch. Pardon, my Lord, this rough salute : I do not see the cloven foot, — And where are your two ravens ? — Where

MepJi>- Enough, old fool, — for once I spiire 3— 'Tis long since we have met, and strange Has been, in such a time5 the change — The world's grown wise — in every movement Is seen the Spirit of Improvement ; Reform to every thing extended — Among the rest the devil is mended :

200 FAUST.

For court has left his wildernesses^ Thrown off his ancient savage dresses ; The curling tail and talons horrid, And horns to guard the wrinkled forehead. All gone — the northern phantom's vanished, By modern education banished ! — As to the foot — against my will, I bear that witness with me still; 'Twould injure me in the good graces Of some who figure in high places ; So, what I can, I do to hide it, And for the purpose, am provided With padded calves — and thus am able To limp no more than's fashionable — Many young men, that I might mention, Avail themselves of the invention.

The Witch. Satan again — my own old boy, Once more with me ! — I'll die with joy.

Meph. Woman, that name — I beg to be excused — Call me not so again.

The Witch. And why ? and wherefore ? what the mischief ails The good old name ?

Meph. It has been too much used,

And sounds like something in the fairy tales ; Is so, familiar, that men deem it fable ; Men belie i^e nothing now above the level

FAUST. 201

Of every-day experience — they are able

To disprove all things ;— don't believe a letter

That speaks of me, — are they for this the better?

— Devils that they are, they don't believe a devil !

Call me Lord Baron — no one can object

To that, or some such title of respect.

I am a cavalier, as good

As any — am of ancient blood ;

Look at my scutcheon, all who doubt it —

See here — I never go without it. '

\Stnits about -ivith pompous gestures.

The Witch \laughing inunodcrately], Lla ! ha ! — this is so like you — is so clever — You're, after all, the same gay rascal ever !

Meph. [to Faust.] This, every day's experience teaches, Is the true way to deal with witches.

The Witch, What, gentlemen, would you desire To drink?

Meph. I thank you— we require

A bumper — one will be enough — Of — you know well the right old stuff. Give us the oldest you have here. \_To Faust]. Its strength is doubled every year!

The Witch. Most willingly — )^ou need not ask A second time — here is a flask, I taste myself, now and again — You'll not find any smell remain.

g02 ' FAUST.

Here — take a, dram — but if I give it

To him— you know he can't outUve it

An hour, unless some charm protect

His hfe from the assured effect.

Meph. He is a friend^ 'twill do him good— -

Thrives like yourself on witches' food —

There's nothing you can give that is

Too strong for such a stomach as his.

Come — chalk your circle — chant your charm —

Till high the cup, 'twill do no harm.

\TJie Witch, witJi extraordinary gesfitres, describes a circle, a7id places strange tilings ivitliin it. Meantime the glasses begin to chime and ring ; the caldron to sound and make music. Lastly, she brings a great book, places the Cat-Apes within the circle ; one is made to serve her for a reading-desk, others hold torches. She signs to Faust to app7'oach. [scene !

Faust to Mephistopheles. No, no ! I'm sick of the whole

^Vhat good is it ? what can it mean ?

These raving gestures ? and this rapid

Torrent of nonsense ? filthy — vapid

And loathsome cheat. — I've seen such stuff

Before; and hated it enough! Meph. 'Tis pure professional farce— mere fudge™

You should not be so hard a judge !

She is but acting the physician ;

This hocus-pocus exhibition

FAUST. 203

Assists the cure — makes the draught operate AVith good effect, and at the proper rate.

\Shc makes Faust enter the circle. The Witch \ivith a strong emphasis^ begins to declaim from the book\

Understand me let all men !

Of One make Ten>

Let Two go then :

Bid Three

Now be

The square of Three :

Thus the Witch

Makes you rich ;

Drop Four

From your score :

From Five and Six

You should fix

To take Seven and Eight away,

Then all is clear as day.

And Nine is One,

And Ten is None,

This is the Witch's One-times-one. Faust. She seems in earnest, old deceiver ! ■ — How like the ravings of a fever !

Meph. There is an endless volume of this stuff — I ought to know it — I've lost time enough Puzzling it out — for downright contradiction

204 FA UST.

Is, to the wise and fools, an equal mystery. My friend, in the old almanack of history, You'll find such jumbles made of fact and fiction; And by the help of this, or some such juggle, Errors spread wide ; — truth suffers in the struggle. Doctrines are lisped by infants ; taught in schools. And are believed : for who contends with fools ? To customary words men still will link Their faith — poor dolts — imagining they think ! WUch. The height, the might,

Of wisdom's light, , The knowledge from the wide world hidden, Cheers humblest minds : Who seeks not finds : The welcome guest is the unbidden. Faust. This nonsense, so like meaning, splits My skull. I soon would lose my wits : Methinks, a million fools in choir Are raving and will never tire.

Meph. Enough ! enough ! incomparable sibyl ! Hand us the drink — fill the cup to the brim — No thimblefulls for us — no niggard dribble — Fear not — such draught will never injure him, He is one of us, and of the highest grade : Has drunk deep before now — be not afraid !

\^I7ie Witch, 7vith many ceremo7iies^ pours the drink itito a cup : as Faust raises it to his mouth, a light flame rises.

FAUST. 205

Off with it fast — why should you fear it ? — Once down, 'twill warm your heart and cheer it. How's this ? 7ny friend, and much the same As one of us — afraid of flame ?

\The Witch dissolves the circle. Faust steps out.

Meph. [to Faust]. Now ! out at once ! you must not rest !

Witc/i [to Faust]. Much good may it do ! [Aside.] I hope the best !

Mep/i. [to the Witch]. If I can serve you, sure you might Command me, on Walpurgis night.

The Witch. Here is a song — a pretty glee. Hum it a few times, — you will see Some merit in it, and effect More than you would at first expect.

Meph. [to Faust]. Come, quick! be for the present

guided : This draught will do you good, provided It gets fair play; but it requires Brisk motion till the frame perspires, And its full force is felt to dart At once through each and every part. And then, not sooner, will I teach What joys the lazy hand can reach, Of indolent voluptuousness. The pleasures that our nobles bless ;— Soon in thy cheery heart, I trow, Will Cupid rock him to and fro.

2o6 FAUST.

Already the young urchin kirks Within, and in the spirit works.

Faust. Once more ! — one other look into the glass ! — Fair form— too fair more than a form to be ! Meph, Come ! come ! no form the beauties can surpass, That soon in living woman thou shnlt see ! [Aside.] With this draught in him he will meet A Helena in every street !

The Street.

Fausf \to Margaret passhig on\ Fair lady^ may I offer you my arm ; And will you suffer me to see you home ?

Marg. I am no lady — and I am not fair I want no guide to show me the way home.

\pise7igages herself^ and exit. Faust. By Heaven, she is a lovely child ; A fairer never met my eye, Modest she seems, and good and mild,

Though something pert was her reply — The red lips bright — the cheek's soft light — My youth hatli not departed quite ! She passed, her timid eyes declining, Deep in my heart they still are shining — And her light spirits' lively play Hath stolen me from myself away !

FA UST. 207

M EPH I STorii ELES aiicrs.

Faust Hearken here, sir, get me the girl ; and fast.

Meph. The girl ! — what girl ?

Fansf. She that this moment passed.

Meph. What — she ? she was but now at church At her confession — I was there. And, hid by the confession chair, Was listening to her from my lurch. Poor thing — she is all innocence — - Had nothing in the world to tell ! With such to meddle is not well. Her purity is a defence, That leaves the tempter no pretence. Upon this child I have no power.

Faust, She's passed fourteen, if she's an hour !

Meph. Could Liederlich be vrorse than this ? The profligate, whose folly is, To think each flower of beauty his. Calls it a purchasable trifle, And every charm he sees would rifle ; Thinks truth and honour but a name-— My friend, give up this hopeless game.

Faust. Sound doctrine this, most reverend, I hope your sermon's at an end : <

Now, once for all, conceited fellow, I am determined on't, and tell you,

2o8 FAUST.

She must, this very night, be mine : You and I part, if you decline.

Meph. Compose yourself — be reasonable — If in a fortnight I be able To make out opportunities !

Faust. A fortnight 1 give me but seven hours ! I want no devil to help me then, And ask no aid from any powers But those belonging to all men, To fool a child like this with ease, And make her anything I please.

Meph, How like a Frenchman ! I regret To see you discontented ; yet Why thus impatient'.^ the delight Is, after all, less exquisite, Than when with some delay and doubt, And difficulty fenced about, You win the treasure guarded long ; Play with the pretty thing awhile, And toy and trifle and beguile, And to your will the soft wax mould, — As witness many a story told, Of true love in Italian song.

Faust. But, fortunately, I require No such incentives to desire.

Meph. Now, not to take or give offence, Believe me, here all violence Is useless — in a litde while

FAUST, 209

The damsel may be won by guile ; — A stratagem, perhaps, may gain The fortress — storming it were vain !

Faust. Give me, meanwhile, some little thing Of hers — a garter or a ring — A kerchief from her snowy breast — Show me the chamber of her rest !

Meph. To prove how sensibly I feel Your pangs, and, if I could, to heal ; I gratify, without delay. Your wish, and take you there to-day. Faust. And shall I see her ? have her ? Meph. No !

She to a neighbour's has to go, And when I find that she is gone, You may indulge yourself alone ; Breathe in the very room where she Hath slept, and dream of joys to be. Faust. May we go now ?

Meph. It scarce were pleasant

So early.

Faust. Make me out some present. Meph. Presents so soon ! this promises Speedy success— they all love dress! Oh, I know many a place of pleasure, Where such things are, and many a treasure "^"ried of old, and soon will find Some lure to win the young thing's mind.

210 FAUST.

Evening.—^ Neat Little Roovu

Margaret. I would give something now to know The gentleman who met me, though ; He had a proud and princely air,

Is one of the nobiUty ; Look on his brow, you read it there, And if he were not, he would stare

V/ith somewhat more civility. [Exit.

Mephistopiieles and Faust. ,

Meph. Come in — tread softly — but come in.

Fa2(st. [after a pause]. Leave me, now leave me, I entreat.

Meph. [prying abotit\ The place is tidy and quite clean ; •—Not every damsel's is so neat. [Exit.

Faust, [looking round]. How calm ! how happy dwells the tender light In this still sanctuary reposing here, And the sweet spirit of peace pervading all, And blessing all. — Spirit of peace and love, I give myself to thee ! Oh, love, whose breatli Is fed on the delicious dev/ of hope, Be thou henceforth my life !

How round us breathe In every tiling tlie same prevailing quiet And neatness, an4 the feeling of contentment !

PAUST. 211

— In low estate what more than riches are, And this poor cell how very, very happy !

[He throivs himself on the leaiherji ar/n -chair beside the bed. Receive me, thou who hast with open arm, Year after year, the generations gone Welcomed in joy and grief: how many a swarm Of children round this patriarchal throne Gathering have clung — perhaps beside this seat A happy child — I well can fancy it — Even now she scarce is more — on Christmas eve My love has bent her at her grandsire's feet; *Mong the good children each year to receive The gifts that heaven's dear child comes down to give. Kissing the good old man I see her stand, Her young round cheeks pressed on his withered hand.

The spirit of contentment, maiden dear, Is breathing in thy very atmosphere ; 1 feel it sway me while I linger here. The sense of neatness, felt in every thing, Speaks with a mother's voice, and bids thee spread The little table with its covering. The floor with crisp sand crackling to the tread. Every where round the hand beloved I trace, That makes a paradise of any place.

Here could I linger hours on hours, Where dreams and meditative thought,

212 FAUST.

Ard; Nature, thy benignant powers Within her virgin bosom wrought, As day by day each influence pure. Of heaven and earth her heart mature, And fain would welcome forth, and win To light, the angel from within.

Here lay the slumbering child, her tender breast Filled with the warmth of happy life ; and here The heavenly image, on the soul imprest. Came out, as clouds past off, divinely clear.

And thou? what brings thee hither now? In this mad moment what art thou ? These softenings of the heart! and then This rage of wild desire again ! Poor Faust ! has some magic cloud Befooled thine eyes ? thy reason bowed ? 'Else why this burning passion strange? And why to love this sudden change ? Are we the sport of every breath of air ?

And, should she now return and meet Thee here, how would the boaster shrink Into the coward ! at her feet In what confusion sink !

Meph. {ejitering\. Away — I see her at the door.

Faust. I go, and I return no more.

Meph. This casket, with its jewels rare, .

FAUST. 213

I got it — but no matter where — Or— what was to be given instead, — Some things are better left unsaid; — Quick — put it in the press — 'twill seize on Her fancy — lull asleep her reason ; Then, guess you, how the dream will end. I got them for another friend : The casket and the trifles in it He thought might buy a happy minute; And he was one who knew the fashion In which to woo, and woman's passion ; But child is child, and maid and lover Play the same game the wide world over.

Faust. I know not ; ought I ?

Meph. Can you ask it?

Perhaps you wish to keep the casket ; If so— and that 'tis avarice — I wish you joy of this cheap vice; I'm glad the momentary bubble Of love has burst — it saves me trouble ; And easier pastimes you may find Than practising upon her mind. My poor brain scarcely understands What you are at— I rub my hands And scratch my head.

\_Places the casket in the press, and doses the lock. Come — come — what do you mean ? the object is

214 FAUST.

To wind this sweet young child to your wish and will.

x\nd now— as I live —you're looking starched and chill,

As if you were going up to your lecture-chair

With Physics in the body standing there,

And Metaphysica in her grey hair.

,Come ! come ! \Exciuit,

Enter Margaret [unth a lanij>\.

Marg. It feels so close, so sultry here, Yet out of doors I thought it chill. —When will my mother come ? A thrill Runs through my frame — I am, I fear, A foolish, foolish woman.

[^Slie begins to sing as she undresses herself.

There was a king in Thule,

And he loved an humble maid ;

And she who loved him truly,

^Vhen she came to her death-bed,

A golden cup she gave him, Which none could better prize ; And ever, a? he drank of it, Tears dimmed his flowing eyes.

And when he came to die, To his heirs his wealth he told ; Left ail without a sigh But his mistress' cup of gold

FAUST. 215

As at the royal banquet Among his knights sate he, In the high hall of his flithers, In their fortress o'er the sea,

Up stood the gay old monarch ;

For the last time up he stood ;

For the last time drained the blessed cup,

And threw it in the flood.

He saw it falling, filling,

And sinking in the- sea;

His eyes lost sight of it, and sank,

And never more drank he.

\Slie opens the press to put in Jier clothes^ and perceives the casket. How came this brilliant casket here ? I locked the press, I'd almost swear. The cover's beautiful — I wonder What it may be that lies under ? Some pledge for money by my mother Lent to somebody or other. I think I'll open it — and^ see, Attached to it, and tempting mC; A riband with a little ke}'. How very beautiful it is !

I've never seen the like of this ! '

Jewels and pearls ! — At mask or ball 'Twould grace the proudest dame of all

2i6 FAUST,

Who glitter at high festival.

I wonder how 'twould look on me ? Whose can the glorious splendour be ?

\She pjtts them on, and stands before the glass. Oh, if I had these ear-rings only ! Drest thus, I seem a different creature ! What good are charms of form and feature

Though poor maids are

Both mild and fair. The world for ever leaves them lonely —

Man may praise,

Yet half he says Seems less like kindness than compassion —

For gold he strives,

For gold he wives — Alas ! the poor are not in fashion !

Promenade. — Faust walking up and down in thought — to him,

Meph. By Love, which I contemn, and Hell's Essence of fire — things can't be worse : Oh, that I could be something else Than what I am, that I might curse !

Faust. What ails thee now ? What pinches thee so sore ? A face like that I never saw before.

Meph. I'd damn myself to everlasting evil, But that I am myself the devil.

Faust. This frantic scene — what can it mean

FAUST.

Meph. Think, only think, that splendid set Of pearls, I got for Margaret, ■ A priest has made his own of them. Her mother, soon as she detected The treasure, something wrong suspected. The old hag o'er her book of prayer Sits moping, mumbling, grumbling there,

Or, for she has a fine sharp nose. Through the house prowling, prying goes, On the scent to ascertain, For the smell decides right well What is holy, what profane, She snuffled at the chain and gem, Found not the smell she likes in them. *' My child," she said, " things thus unholy, Or suited not for one so lowly. Will seize and fasten on the heart. And hold it till health, peace, depart. To the Virgin Mary bring These in humble offering ; — Sinful things of earth we give,

And receive from Heaven, instead, Heaven's own food restorative, That our precious souls may live

Fed on manna — angels' bread !" At this poor Madge looked far from pleasant, Provoked at having lost the present :

2\

2i8 FAUST.

■Vhy," thought she, is the gift rejected?

Or he, who gave it me, suspected ?

The giver is a rich man — must

Be generous — and therefore just

And good — and why should we distrust?

The mother strait sends for the priest 3

He comes, and he enjoys the jest.

His features brighten up with rapture,

And thus he preaches o'er his capture : —

•' You feel the matter right, dear madam ;

These pearls — 'twere wrong the poor child had 'em ■

To them who strive is grace accorded,

And he who conquers is rewarded.

The Church will feel (we cannot question)

No difficulty of digestion ;

Will swallow without fear of surfeit

The ill-got goods that sin makes forfeit ;

Whole realms, their produce and their profit;

She eats up, and thinks nothing of it :

The Church alone, with conscience quiet,

Can thrive upon this doubtful diet."

Fatist That this is false each day evinces,

Or true as well of Jews and princes.

Meplt. On this, he svrept into his pocket

Ear-rings and bracelet^ chain and locket,

\nd made no more of pearls and casket,

Than if he pocketed a basket

FAUST. 2.19

Of nuts, — then treats them with a lecture On vanity, — states his conjecture Upon the uses of affliction, And leaves them with his benediction.

Faust. And Margaret

Meph. Sits in restless mood-

Does nothing — knows not what she should — Thinks night and day on what she lost, But dwells on him who gave them most.

Faust. Poor thing ! her grief goes to my heart ! Bring more gems — come — come — no delay — The first, coarse common things were they.

Meph. [m affectedvexatio?i\. Mere trinkets flung in sport away ! — My toil is nothing, nor the value Of what I give !

Faust. Be silent, shall you

Thus mock at me and my affection ? Act for my ends, by my direction. Court thou the widow — tax invention For sweet things — draw oft^ her attention — Come — come — you're dull as water-gruel,— Up — up — away for chain and jewel !

Meph. My lord, I cheerfully obey. \Exit Faust.

How a man fooled with love v/ill fling away Sun, stars, earth, heaven, upon the chosen lady — All cheap as presents to a child on May-day ! [Exit.

220 , FAUST.

The Neighbour's House. Martha [atone]. God help and pity me, and pardon My poor old man ! he treats me badly ; — Thus to go off — 'tis very hard on A wedded wife, — here pining sadly Am I upon my lonely straw. I loved and doted on him so, His very will to me was law ; And for no reason thus to go And die abroad [weejfing] — he must have died — Yet 'twould be satisfactory If I could have it certified.

£7ifer Margaret.

Marg. Martha.

Mar. My little Margery !

Sweet child, what can the matter be ?

Marg. My knees are sinking under me. I've found another casket, one Like that so lately had and gone, Laid in my press — of ebony — The rings and jewels in it are More brilliant than the former far.

Mar. Your mother must not hear it, though, Or straightway to the priest they go.

Marg. Look at them, only look at them.

Mar. Fortunate girl.

FAUST. 221

Marg. Alas, one gem

I cannot — can I ? — ever dare Put on in church or any where.

Mar. Come here as often as you please, And try them on where no one sees : Before the glass be whole hours spent Adjusting every ornament. We will enjoy their full effect, With none your secret to suspect ; Then as occasions come, a ball, A dance, a day of festival. We let them one by one appear — A chain, a pearl-drop in the ear — And coin some story or another To keep the matter from your mother.

Marg. Twice to have had such caskets brought, There's something in it more than ought ! \_A knock.

Good God ! my mother ! I'll be seen.

Mar. 'Tis a strange gentleman. — Come in.

Meph. \e7iters\. I've come unceremoniously ;

But, ladies, you will pardon me.

[Retreats respectfully before Margaret. To Martha Schwerdtlein was my visit : I'm told this is her lodging. Is it?

Mar. Sir, Tm the person. What's your pleasure ?

Meph. I'll call when you are more at leisure : You have a guest of consequence ;

22 2 FAUST.

I'll call again in three hours hence.

Mar, \to Marg.\ The funniest thing I ever knev,' — The gentleman imagined you To be some lady of high rank. I can't but laugh.

Marg. I have to thank

The gentleman's extreme good nature. I am a poor young humble creature : These ornaments are not my own.

Meph. I did not judge by them alone ; 'Tis something in your mien and glance. My visit was a lucky chance.

Mar. \aside\. To know what brings him, I am dying.

Meph. I wish I had news more gratifying ; But blame me not, though sad it prove. Your husband's dead, and sends his love.

Mar. Is dead ! the faithful creature dead ! My husband — would 'twere I instead.

Marg. Friend, let thy strong good sense prevail O'er grief—

Meph. And hear the sad detail.

Marg. I fear at all to think of love, Such loss my certain death would prove.

Meph. Grief waits on joy — ^joy follows grief,

Mar. Tell on ; it will be some relief.

Meph. In Padua, at St. Anthony's, In consecrated earth he lies !

FA US1\ 223

A cool bed under the church floor, Where he sleeps soundly.

Mar- Nothing more ?

Meph. Oh, yes ! a death-bed legacy ; His last commission was to thee. To have three hundred masses said, With requiem service for the dead. His last was a religious thought : This is the whole of what I brought.

Mar. What, not a coin, no trinket token, Nothing to soothe his poor heart-broken ? Why, the most paltry artisan, *

The veriest wretch in form of man. Some small memorial still will hoard. Some little pledge in secret stored. To show his love is not forgot — Will starve — will beg — but parts it not !

Meph. Madam, I'm sorry for his blindness To the true value of your kindness : 'Tis your mistake, to think he squandered His money — as he died, he pondered The past — and, as his heart relented, ' His sins and his bad luck repented.

Marg. Unhappy men ! I weep for them ! He shall not want my requiem !

Meph. The sweet child ! what a tender touch of True feeling ! that's the gid for me —

224 FAUST,

I take It you deserve to be

Out of hand married, and made much of.

Marg. Time long enough 'twill be till then.

Meph. You'll find admirers 'mong the men A husband in due course, no doubt, I'll see to bring it soon about, And if not married out and out, With a gallant we can mayhap Fill up as pleasantly the gap.

Marg, 'Tis not the custom of the place.

Meph. Custom or not, it is the ca se.

Mar. Tell on.

Meph. I stood at his bedside ;

The rotting straw on which he died, — Something less foul than dung, not much, Infectious to the smell and toudi. — He died a Christian, and in debt. Settled his scores with Heaven ; — the trifle Due at the wine- shop, is due yet. *' Alas," said he, " I used my wife ill. — Would die at peace, did she forgive."

Mar. Poor man ! I long ago forgave.

Meph. " But 'twas her folly, as I live."

Mar. What ! standing on the very grave Did he say this ? assert this lie ? And did he tell you it was I, I who was wrong ? —

FAUST.

•^5

Meph. He did : but out

The truth has come, and leaves no doubt. He lied : your very countenance Decides the matter at a glance !— "Mine was hard work, you may conjecture, (Thus ran his peevish death-bed lecture), Fh-st; all her children to be fed ; And while I toiled to make them bread. Not let to eat my crust in peace."

Mar. What, will his slanders never cease ? Tove, Honour, Truth, forgotten quite ; Our tendernesses day and night.

Meph. Not so : he thought of you with great affection. " As I," said he, " was late from Malta sailing, I found myself in prayer ; a sudden rapture, Following a burst of tender recollection Of wife and children, and the prayer prevailing Was heard on high. That day we made a capture j A Turkish vessel laden v/ith rich treasure For the great sultan : 'twas a gallant fight, And valour triumphed, and was vv^ell rewarded : And when they came the shares of each to measure, I got, to say the least of it, my right."

Mar. What? how? a prize? think you, he buried it?

Meph. Who knows where heaven's four winds have scat- tered it ? Bury it?— *no, his heart was far from sordid :

H

226 FAUST.

That his death proves, his generous nature hurried it

A lady, one of your nice Neapolitans,

As he was loitering in their pleasant city,

Looked on his loneliness, kind soul, with pity,

And saw his vanity — and soothed and flattered it —

Fastened upon him, led him such a jolly dance,

That with his cash, and him, all was soon over.

Marks of affection, too, she gave her lover,

Of such a kind, that to the blessed hour

In whicli your poor saint died, he felt their power.

Mar. Scoundrel, to use his wife and children so ! Ought not the poverty, which his neglect Had heaped on us, his shameless course have checked ?

Meph. It ought ; and he is punished for it now : But as this will not mend the case, I would, if I were in your place, Put on my mourning, keep a good eye out. And wed again, when the year came about.

Mar. Where could I find, in this wide world of nienj Any thing like my own poor man again ? There could not be a creature kinder, fonder j His only fault was, he from home would wander ; And when I think of him, my eyes are swimming : He was so good, without a single vice, Except his taste for foreign wines and women. And the society they bring — and dice.

Meph, Well 1 if on his side he had only made

FAUST. 227

Allowances as just and generous, Your quarrels had been easily allayed. Why, I myself — if you indulge me thus — With such good sense — in a few little things — Am tempted to propose exchanging rings.

Mar. Oh, sir, you are a pleasant gentleman : — Sure you were speaking but in jest.

Meph, [aside.] I'd best be off: this vile old pest Has her brains turned already with the plan Of marrying me at once outright ! My only safety is in flight.

Damn her ! she'll keep the devil to his word. [To Margaret. How goes it with your heart ?

Marg. What means my lord ?

Meph. \as if to himself ?\ — The good sweet innocent child ! [Aloud ^ Ladies, farewell I

Marg. Farewell!

Mar. Sir ! sir ! don't leave us till you tell One little matter more : I want a witness To prove his death and burial — how — when — where — Formally proved; and you will see t>.e fitness Of having it on record— 'twould be pleasant To have it in the papers of the week.

Meph. ^^ Al the month of two witnesses the matter Shall be established." — By good luck, at present There's one in town, who to the fact can speak; A man of character and high condition :

H 2

228 FAUST.

He'll make the necessary deposition— I'll bring him in the evening.

Mar. Don't be later.

Meph. And this young woman — shall we find her here? She will so please him — nay, I do not flatter ; — A fine young man — has travelled far and near — • Is so admired — and so admires the sex, And has so true a feeling of decorum.

Marg. I feel afraid — to meet him would perplex And so confuse — I'd blush to death before- him.

Meph. Were he a king — should it be thus ?

Mar. The garden, then, behind my house— We shall expect both gentlemen This evening there— farewell till then.

The Street. — Faust and Mephistopheles.

Faust. How fare you ? goes it swimmingly on and swift ?

MepJi. Hurrah ! my friend — I'm glad to see your heart On fire — she shall be yours in less than no time : This evening, we all meet at Neighbour Martha's. Of all the women that I ever saw She is the veriest gipsy — is the one To mould his Margaret to the doctor's purpose.

Faust. All promises well so far.

Meph. But we are asked

For something in return.

FAUST. /229

Faust. That's reasoncible —

As one good turn, they say, deserves another.

Meph. We are only asked to make a deposition, In proper form, that her dead husband's bones Are lying decently interred in Padua, Quietly resting there in holy ground.

Faust. Mighty fine doings ! what a pretty jaunt You have contrived for us I

Meph. Saficta simp lie itas i

Why should we go ? we are -asked but to make oath— • This may be done without the toil of travel, Or trouble of any kind.

Faust. Is this your plan ?

If you have nothing better to propose, The scheme is at an end.

Meph. Oh, holy man !

Is it there you are now? Doctor, is this your

sciuple ? Is this the first time in your life that you Have borne false witness ? have you lectured on God— and the world— and all that moves therein — ' On Man — and on " how thought originates/' And that enigma, man's mysterious nature, The intellectual and the moral powers — Have you not dealt in formal definitions, With forehead unabashed, amd heart undaunted.^ Yet, if you did but own the truth, your conscience

230 FA UST.

Must tell you — does it not ?— you know no more Of all these matters than of Schwerdtlein's death,

Faust Thou art, and wert, and thou wilt ever be A liar and sophist.

Meph. Yes ; if by appearances

Only you judge : you, a philosopher, Should look a little deeper — you yourself, Ere two days pass — will you not ? — all in honour, As you would call it— fool this poor child's fancy, And swear, — your casuistry will then be silent — How from your soul you love her — love her ever.

Faiisf. Yes, and such oath is true —

Meph. — As any other y

And then of everlasting faith and love Will be the talk, — of all-absorbing passion — Of the one feeling — felt but once— for one : Will this, too, be a language that the heart Can recognize as true ?

Faust. Peace, fiend ! it will,

If that I feel, and if for the emotion — The frenzy call it, rather — I still seek A name and can find none — if through the world My fancy ranging seeks analogies That are, and ever must remain, imperfect — If words that speak of time be insufficient Even feebly to express this burning feeling, And that, thus forced, I call it endless — deathless —

FAUST. 231

Eternal — yes, eternal — say you that Language like this isa Satanic lie ?

Meph. Yet I am right.

Faust. Hark ye — take this with you —

I'll spare my lungs, and cease to argue further — But, as I said, take this with you ; — no matter What side a man adopts, or of what subject— If he has but a tongue, he'll not want reasons To prove him in the right : as now, for instance ;— I'm tired of talk — you then are in the right — You must be, sure, I have no help for it.

The Garden. — Margaret ofi Faust's arjn, Martha with Mephistopheles. — Walking loiteringly up and doivn*

Marg. You do but play with my simplicity, And put me to the blush. A traveller Learns such good nature — is so pleased with all

things And every body : — my poor talk, I know, Has no attraction, that could for a moment Engage the attention of a man, who has Seen so much of the world

Faust. One glance — one Vvord —

One little word from thee, I value more Than all the wisdom of th* world's wisest ones.

[Kisses her hand.

232 FAUST.

Marg, How could you think of it ? How could you kiss it? It is so coarse — so hard — is spoiled with all work On every day — how could it but be coarse ? My mother's habits are too close — my tasks Are too severe. \_They pass on.

Mar. And are you- — are you always travelling thus?

Meph. Alas ! that claims of business and of duty Should force me to it. We feel pangs at parting From many a spot where yet we may not loiter.

Ma7'. In youth's wild days, it cannot but be pleasant This idle roaming round and round the world, With wildfire spirits, and heart disengaged : But soon comes age and sorrow j and to drag, Through the last years of life, down to the grave A solitary creature — like the wretch, Who moves from prison on to execution — This must be bad for body and for soul.

Meph. You make me shudder at the dreary prospect.

Mar. Be wise — secure yourself in time. \They pass on,

Marj. Yes ! — out of sight, soon out of mind. I feel this courtesy is kind ; — That you, who must have many a friend Highly informed, should condescend To speak with one in my poor station. Of such neglected education, *— In every thing so unimproved—

Faust. Believe me, dearest, best beloved,

FAUST. ^33

That, which the world calls information, Is often but the glitter chilling Of vanity and want of feeling.

Marg. How?

Faust. Ah ! that— singleness of heart,

And absence of all artifice, — Gifts, as they are, above all price, Heaven's holiest blessing — should be thus Of their own worth unconscious ! That— meekness, gentleness, the treasure Which Nature, who doth still impart To all in love, and lavish measure, Gives to the child, whom she loves dearest,— Should — ~

Marg. Think of me when you are gone,

A moment now and then — of you I shall have time enough to think.

Faust. Your time is passed, then, much alone ?

Marg. Why, yes ; and then our house affairs, Poor though they be^ bring many cares. We have no servant maid, and I Must cook, knit, sew, must wash and dry ; Run far and near — rise ere the light, And not lie down till late at night. And then my mother's temper's such, In every thing she asks so much ; Of saving has so strict a sense,

234 FAUST.

And is so fearful of expense ;

So anxious, so particular :

— Not that our circumstances are

So limited, as not to give

The means like other folk to live.

The property my father had.

And died possessed of, was not bad :

A house, and garden here, that yields

Something worth while, and some town fields

Just at the gates. My days, somehow,

Are tolerably quiet now —

My brother earns a soldier's bread

Abroad ; — my little sister's dead.

Trouble enough I had with her,

Yet cheerfully would I incur

Ten times the toil — so dear was she.

Faust. A very angel, if like thee !

Marg. Even from its birth, the child I nurst— - And so it loved me from the first. Born to distress — its father torn Away by death, ere it was born. My mother, worn out with disease — We long had given her up for gone- Recovering faintly by degrees. Came slowly, very slowly on. She had no strength— she could not think Of nursing it — and so, poor thing,

FAUST, 235

I reared it ; for its natural drink, With milk and water tried to bring The creature on — and thus my own It seemed to be, and mine alone — Lay on my arm, and on my breast Would play and nestle, and was blest.

Faust This must have been the purest joy.

Marg. Yet were there hours of great annoy— Its cradle was by my bedside : It kept me half the night awake, To make it quiet when I tried. — At times must I get up, to take The little urchin into bed ; This would not do — then must I rise, Walk up and down with measured treadj And seek with songs to hush its cries. Then daylight brought its tasks to me % Ere dawn must I at washing be — Trudge to the market — light the fire ; And if I felt the trouble tire On one day, 'twas the same the next. I felt dispirited and vext At times ; but I was wrong in this ; For, after all, his labour is What gives a poor man's food its zest, And makes his bed a bed of rest.

[They pass on.

236 FAUST,

Mar. We women are the sufferers : who can make Any thmg of a dissokite old rake?

Mcph. Yet have I perfect faith in woman's skill ; You may, for instance, make me what you will.

Mar. But tell me plainly, have you never met One whom you loved ? — thought you of marriage yet ?

Meph. A blessed state — in Proverbs we are told, A good wife better is than pearls or gold.

Mar. But is there none with preference you would name?

Meph. All are polite and everywhere the same.

Mar. Have you no one in seriousness addressed ?

Meph. With ladies can you think that I would jest?

Mar. You still mistake me.

Meph. I regret to find

How slow I am ; but one thing to my mind Is clear, that you are very, very kind. \They pass o?l

Faiist. And so thou didst, my angel— didst thou not ? — The moment that I came into the garden. Remember me again, upon the spot ?

Mar. Did you not see it } — I held down my eyes.

Fausf. And thou dost, — dost thou not ? — the freedom pardon Which, as you passed from the Cathedral home, I rashly took ?

Marg. I felt so much surprised,

And was, I scarce can tell you, so confused, And trembled like a guilty thing accused.

FA UST. 237

'^ Into his head could such a thought have come? — What must he think of thee ? — there must have been Something improper in thy walk or mien ; Something that gave this gentleman to see, Here is a girl with whom you may make free." Yet must I own I did not then detect How my heart pleaded for thee, nor suspect I with myself was angry, that, with thee, As angry, as I ought, I could not be.

Faust. Sweet love !

Marg. One moment wait.

\She plucks a siar-flowei', and picks off f he leaves one after another.

Faust. Why pluck the star-flower?

— Do you wish a bunch of flowers?

Marg. No, I just fancied

Trying a little game of chance.

Faust. What mean you ?

Marg. You will laugh at me.

\Shc plucks off the leaves., and murmurs to herself.

Faust. What are you murmuring ?

Marg. \lialf aloud\ He loves me — loves me not.

Faust. Angelic creature?

Marg. He loves me — not — He loves me — not —

\_As she plucks off the last leaf with eager delight. He loves me !

Faust. Yes, my child, deem tins language of the flower

238 FAUST,

The answer of an oracle — " He loves thee !"

Dost thou know all the meanmg of " He loves thee ?"

\Holds both her hands,

Marg. I am all over trembling.

Faust Tremble not !

Oh, let this look, this pressure of the hands, Say, to thee, what no words can say : henceforth Be our whole being lost in one another In overflowing joy — that lives and lives For ever and for ever ! could it end.

It were but no, it cannot, cannot end !

[Margaret presses his hands ; disengages herself from him^ and rims away. He stands for a moment, thoughtful, and follows her.

Mar, The night is coming on.

Meph. We should be going.

Mar. I would invite you to stay longer, but We live in a censorious neighbourhood. They seem to have nothing to think of or to do But watch the doors, and who go in and out : Do what you will, your doings will be misconstrued : But our young couple — saw you them ?

Meph. They've flown

Up yonder walk— gay butterflies —

Mar, He seems

Caught.

Mep/t, And she too. 'Tis the way of the world.

FAUST. 239

A Summer House. — Margaret rtuis in : fixes herself behind the door ; holds the tip of her finger to her lips^ ajid peeps through the cradce.

Marg. He comes.

Faust. Ah, rogue ! and do you thus j^rovoke me ?

I've caught you at last. \ICisses her.

Marg. \embracing him, and retiirnifig the kiss\ Dearest and best, with my whole heart I love thee.

[Mephistopheles hiocks.

Faust [stamping']. Who's there?

Meph. A friend.

Fatist. A brute.

Meph. Full time to go.

Afar, [comes up\ 'Tis late, my lord —

Faust. May I not see you home ?

Marg. My mother would farewell.

Faust. Must I then go ? —

Farewell.

Mar. Adieu !

Marg. To meet again, and soon.

[Exeunt Faust and Mephistopheles.

Marg. How many things a man like this Must know; — and I had but a ''Yes/' For every thing he said ; — confused By every word ; yet he excused

240 FAUST. .

Each fault of mine. Wliat can it be^ That thus attaches him to me.

Forest and Cavern,

Faust \alone\. Yes ! lofty Spirit, thou hast given me all, All that I asked of thee ; and not in vain, In unconsuming fire revealed, hast thou Been with me, manifesting gloriously Thy presence — thou hast looked on me with love, — Hast given me empire o'er majestic Nature; Power to enjoy and feel ! 'Twas not alone The stranger's short permitted privilege Of momentary wonder that thou gavest : No, thou hast given me into her deep breast As into a friend's secret heart to look ; Hast brought to me the tribes of living things : Thus teaching me to recognize and love My brothers in still grove, or air, or stream. And when in the wide wood the tempest raves, And shrieks, and rends the giant pines, uproots, Disbranches, and, with maddening grasp uplifting, Flings them to earth, and from the hollow hill Dull moaning thunders echo their descent ; Then dost thou lead me to the safe retreat Of some low cavern, there exhibiting To my awed soul its own mysterious nature I

FAUST. 2\l

Of my o\vr. heart the depths miraculous,

Its secret inward being all exposed !

And when before my eye the pure moon walks

High over-head, diffusing a soft light,

Then from the rocks, and over the damp wood,

The pale bright shadows of the ancient times

Before me seem to move, and mitigate

The too severe delight of earnest thought !—

Alas ! even now I feel Man's joys must be Imperfect ever. The ecstatic bliss, Which lifts me near and nearer to the gods ; This is thy gift ; but with it thou hast given. Inseparably linked, this vile associate, Whom I abominate, but cannot part : — Cold, insolent, maUcious, he contrives To make me to myself contemptible ; And with a breath will scatter into nothing All these high gifts : with what ofiicious zeal He fans my breast into a raging flame Of passion, to possess that perfect form Of loveliness ! Thus, from desire I pass On to enjoyment, and, uneasy still, Even in enjoyment languish for desire !

[Meph [Stophef^es c/ifcrs. Meplu Have you not had enough of this before? A pretty kind of life to live for ever !

242 FAUST.

Well enough for a trial. Come, come, let us Seek something new.

Fa7ist. I wish you had something else

To do than thus torment me when I'm quiet.

Meph. Well ! well ! and if you wish I'll leave you here To your delights — never say it again. Great loss to me, indeed, 'twould be to lose A petulant, unsocial, crazy creature Of a companion — kept the whole day long Busy, and never can make any guess From my lord's countenance, whether yourVorship Is pleased or is displeased by what I do.

Faust. Ay, there's the tone — that is so very like him : Tires me to death — expects me then to thank him !

Meph. Poor child of earth ! and couldst thou, then, have borne Thy life till now without my aid ? 'Tvvas I That saved thee from imaginations idle ! I guarded thee with long and anxious care ; And, but for me, even now thou wouldst have been Idling in other worlds ! Why sittest thou there, Lingering in hollow cave, or rifted rock. Dull as the moping owl ? Why, like the toad. Dost thou support a useless life, deriving Subsistence from damp moss and dripping stone ? Sweet pastime this ! most charming occupation ! I fear you've not forgotten your old trade.

FAUST. 243

Faust. Couldst thou conceive what added life is given In hours like this, passed in the wilderness, And couldst thou feel it — still thou wouldst remain The devil thou art — still hate and poison it ! Wouldst grudge the short delight

MepJu Delight indeed !

Yes, transcendental rapture ! — mighty fine ! — In night and dew lying among the hills. In ecstasy embracing earth and heaven— To swell up till you are a kind of god — To pierce into the marrow of the earth In a fool's fancies — all the six-days' task Of the creation in thy breast to feel — And in the pride of conscious power enjoy I know not what of bliss, — to cherish love That has no limits, but must overflow Till it loves every thing that is — till earth And man's poor nature, in the trance forgotten. Has passed away — and then the glorious hour Of intuition ending — how it ends I must not say-

Faust. Fie, fie upon thee.

Meph. - Yes !

" Fie, fie !" — it does not suit your taste, forsooth — Fie, fie ! this mannerly word sounds very well In your mouth now. The modest ears are closed, And will not hear of what the modest heart

244 FAUST.

Yet cannot go without. Good, good ! — a word,

However, upon what you said — I grudge not

To you or any man such pleasure, as

He now and then may feel, in playing tricks

Of self-deception ; pity 'twill not last.

You are already blown out of your course —

Are almost what you were when first we met ;

And, if you don't take care, will fret yourself

Soon into actual madness — frenzy-fever.

Or melancholy horror. For your own sake

Have done with this : your love, poor creature ! sits

Within there, — you should soothe her ! All with her

Is sad and gloomy — out of her poor mind

You never are : she loves devotedly.

Poor thing ! — on thee she thinks — thinks evermore.

First came the flood of thy o'erflowing passion.

As swells, when the snows melt, a mountain brook

Above its banks —and thou into her heart

Hast poured the sudden gush ; and now the brook

Is dry with thee again : methinks 'twere well,

Instead of reigning here among the woods

On an imaginary throne, that you

Would comfort the young monkey, and requite

The poor thing for her love,— to her the time

Seems miserably long — she lingers at

The window, gazes on the clouds that pass

Slow o'er the old town-walls. '' Oh that I were

FAUST. 245

A little bird !" she cries. This is her song All the day long, and half the heavy niglit ! One moment is she mirthful — mostly is Sad, — then she weeps till she can weep no more ; Then, as 'twould seem, she is at rest again. But mirth or grief, whatever the mood be. This all is love — deep, tender, passionate love.

Faust. Serpent — vile serpent !

Meph. \aside\ Ay, and one that stings

FiUist. Infamous wretch, begone ! name not her name — Pollute it not— stir not into desire My half-distracted senses.

Meph. What is this ?—

She deems herself abandoned — and is right.

Faust. Off, viper !

Meph. You are raving — I am laugliing :

What a hard task it is, forsooth — ^just think. And let it cure your spirits, — you are going Not — as to look at you one might believe- Not to the gibbet — but to a fond mistress !

Faust. What were the joys of Heaven, thougti with them blest In her embrace ? — could my disquiet be Stilled on her bosom ? could it hush to rest This drear presentiment of her undoing ? And am I not the outcast — the accurst —

246 FAUST.

The homeless one, — whose wanderings never cease- The monster of his kind ? No rest for me — No aim — no object; like the stream, that, nurst With swelling rains, foaming from rock to rock, Along its course of ruin. On to the inevitable precipice — Plunges impatient down the blind abyss, And violently seeks the desperate shock. And — by the side of such mad stream — was she, — A child with a child's feelings ; — her low cot In the green field upon the mountain slope, And all that she could wish, or love^ or hope, Her little world, all — all in that poor spot ; — And I — the heaven-detested ! — was it not Enough, that the mad torrent grasped and tore The rocks, and shivered them to dust, and bore All, that opposed me, in my downward course On with me ? — Her, too, her — her peace — her joy - These must I undermine ? — these too destroy ? Hell ! hell ! — this victim also ! — Thy support, Devil ! and the dreadful interval make short ! What must be, be it soon ! Let the crush fall Down on me of her ruin — perish all — She — I — and these wild thoughts together 1

Meph. What ! in the fever-fit again ? How seethes and burns the muddy brain ! — Idiot, go in, and comfort hen

FAUST. ^ 24'j

Thus is it ever with the crazy pate, When difficulties thwart, Or unforeseen <palamities occur : Fools, when they cannot see their way, At once grow desperate. Have no resource — have nothing to propose — But fix a dull eye of dismay Upon the final close. Success to the stout heart, say I, That aees its fate, and can defy ! — Yet art thou, though of such soft stuff, In most things pretty devil enough ; — Of all insipid things, I least can bear That sickening dose — a devil in despair !

Margaret's Own Room.

Marg. \alone at the spin7iing-wheel\, \Sings^^ My peace is gone,

And my heart is sore : I have lost him, and lost him, For evermore !

The place, where he is not,

To me is the tomb. The world is sadness,

And sorrow and gloom !

?.4.S FAUST.

My poor sick brain Is crazed with pain,

And my poor sick heart Is torn in twain !

My peace is gone, And my heart is sore,

For lost is my love For evermore !

From the window for him

My heavy eyes roam ; To seek him, all lonely J I wander from home.

His noble form, His bearing high,

The smiles of his lip,

And the power of his eye ;

And the magic tone Of that voice of his,

His hands' soft pressure, And oh ! his kiss !

My peace is gone, And my heart is sore ;

I have lost him, and lost him, For evermore !

FAUST, ^49

Far wanders my heart To feel him near,

Oh ! could I clasp him, And hold him here !

Hold him and kiss hiir», Oh ! I could die !

To feed on his kisses^ How willingly !

I^.Iartha's Garden. --Margaret — Faust.

Marg. — Promise me, Heniy.

Faust. Be assured, my love.

Marg. Now tell me how you are as to religion ? You are a dear good man — but, I rather fear You have not much of it.

Faust. Forbear, my child,

You feel I love you, and for those I love I would lay down my life. I would not rob Any one of his feeling, or his church —

Marg. 'Tis well — but more than that — we must believe-

Faust. Must we ?

Marg. Oh, had I any influence !

'—You honour not the holy sacmments ?

Faust. I honour them.

Marg. But you do not receive. — '

250 FAUST.

At mass or shrift 'tis long since you have been. Do you believe in God ?

Faust. Forbear, my love ;

Who can say truly, '' I believe in God ?" — Ask it of priest or of philosopher, And the reply seems but a mockery Of him who asks.

Marg. Then thou dost not believe !

Faust. Misunderstand me not, thou best-beloved : Who can name Him, and, knowing what he says, Say, " I believe in Him ?" And who can feel. And, with self-violence, to conscious wrong Hardening his heart, say, " I beUeve him not !" The All-embracing, All-sustaining One, Say, doth he not embrace, sustain, include Thee? — Me? — Himself? — Bends not the sky above? And earth, on which we are, is it not firm ? And over us with constant kindly smile, The sleepless stars keep everlasting watch ! Am I not here gazing into thine eyes ?

And does not All, that is.,

— Seen and unseen, mysterious all —

Around thee, and within,

Untiring agency,

Press on thy heart and mind ? — Fill thy whole heart with it — and when thou art Lost in the consciousness of happiness —

FAUST. 25]

Then call it what thou wilt, Happiness ! — heart ! — love I — God ! I have no name for it — Feeling is all; Name, sound and smoke, Dimming the glow of heaven !

Marg. This is all good and right ; The priest says pretty much the same, But in words somewhat different.

Faust. Every where,

All hearts beneath the universal Heaven, In its own language each doth utter it — Then why not I in mine ?

Marg. Made easy thus

'Tis plausible— yet must it be unsafe : Thou art no Christian.

Faust. Hush, my child.

Marg. I grieve to see the company thou keepest.

Faust. What do you mean ?

Marg. The man whom thou hast ever at thy side, I hate him from the bottom of my soul. In my whole life, has nothing given my heart So deep a wound, as that man's alien visage.

Faust. Beloved, fear him not.

Marg. The very sight of him makes my blood thrill ! To most men I feel kindliness — but him Do I detest \ and with a feeling strong, Strong as my love for you— strong as my wishes

25-

FA UST.

To have you with me — does a secret shudder Creep over me when I behold this man. He is — I cannot be deceived — he is A villain ; — God forgive me, if I wrong him !

Faust. He's a queer fellow — do not mind his oddities.

Marg. I would not — could not, live together with him. If for a moment he comes to the door, He will look in with such an air of mockery, And a half scowl, and a face dark with anger Kept down — you see he has no interest In any thing — 'tis written on his brow He feels no love for any livmg soul—- And when I am so happy in thy arms, In the sweet confidence of love forgetting — Forgetting every thing but thee, then— then He's sure to come, and my heart shrinks and withers !

Faust Foreboding angel, these are weak misgivings !

Marg. The feeling overmasters me so wholly. That if he does but join us, straightway seems it As if I ceased to love thee — where he is I could not pray. This eats into my heart. Henry, it cannot be but that you feel In this as I do.

Faicsf. Tliis is antipathy.

Marg. I must away.

Faust. Alas ! and may I never

FAUST. 253

Meet thee, where none can come to trouble us? One little hour — and must it never be ? — Heart prest to happy heart, and soul to soul !

Marg. Ah, that I slept alone ! This very night How gladly would I leave the door unbolted ! But then my mother's sleep is far from sound ; Did she awake and find you there, I should, Methinks, drop dead upon the spot.

Faust. Dear angel, throw aside such fears ; this phial Take with you. Three drops of it only, poured Into her drink, wrap nature up in sleep, Deep tranquil sleep.

Marg. I must do as you bid.

Could I refuse you ?— 'Twill not injure her?

Faust. It will not : otherwise would I advise it ?

Marg. Dearly beloved, if I but look on you I must obey — I cannot hesitate : There is a something not to be resisted, Which overpowers me — makes your will my guide In everything ; and having gone so far Already, is choice left me ? Having given So much, what is there for me to refuse ?

Meph. \cnters\ The monkey ! is it gone ?

Faust. Again

Spying ?—

Meph. Yes, and I heard quite plain The doctor schooled, — the catechumen

254

FAUST.

Getting a lesson in his creed,

And catechism, from a young woman,

Just now; — I hope that it agreed

With you ! The girl's anxiety

For sentimental piety

Is soon explained. The man, think they,

Who worships in the good old way,

When his priest bids him kneels and bowSj

Is likely to obey his spouse :

This of itself ensures his wife

A quiet, fair and easy life.

The women fancy, and the fact is

Confirmed, or often so, in practice,

That their admirers are most found

Where your religious men abound —

Love is almost the same emotion :

The devotee — such is their notion —

Thus for the sex feels true devotion,

Courts amorous thoughts and mystic dreaming,

Is led by priests, and follows women.

Faust. Oh ! what a monster must thou be. To see not, or with scoffing see. How this poor girl's affections lead The pious creature thus to plead ; The faith, in which she moves and lives — That which alone salvation gives — So she believes — may make her fear

FAUST, 255

Danger to one whom she holds dear ;

Fear for the issue of a strife

Where more, she feels, is risked than life \

Meph. Most sentimental sensualist, — Philosopher at once and beast, — • Led by the nose by a young flirt !

Faust. Abortion — spawn of fire and dirt !

Meph. \_scor7if2iUy\—0\\ Physiognomy she also lectures Profoundly — feels, when I am present. Sensations strange and most unpleasant : — Suppressed malignity my smile betrays ; I wear a mask, forsooth, I will not raise, And what it hides she sapiently conjectures, Something mysteriously allied to evil, A genius — or, perhaps, the very devil. To-night then.

Faust. What's to-night to thee ?

Meph, I've my amusements too— we'll see^

At the Well. — Margaret ^;2// Lizzy [with pitchers\

Lizzy. Have you not heard of Hannah's pretty doing ?

Marg. No, not a word — Pve been but little out.

Liz. Kate told it me to-day— there's not a doubt Of its truth. This comes of airs and impudence, I always said her pride would be her ruin.

256 FAUST,

Man. What mean you ?

Liz. What I mean all know but yen — -

Why, when she eats and dnnks she's feeding two,

Marg. Poor thing !

Liz. Poor thing, indeed ! great pity for her ;

Why, she was always finding some pretence To be in company with this adorer Of hers ; — at every party — every walk — How she made out a time for private talk ! Would hang upon his arm, and still be seen For evermore with him, at booth or green. She thought herself so fine, none could come near her ; And then their feaslings — cakes and vv^ine must cheer

her After their rambles : then her vanity About her beauty almost like insanity— And then her meanness — think of her insisting Upon his making handsome presents to lier — Then came soft words, v/hen there were none to listen^ Then all a girl can give she gave her wooer !

Marg, The poor, poor thing !

Liz. And do you pity her ?

When we were kept close to our v/heels, and when Our mothers v/ould not suffer us to stir Abroad at night, or loiter with the men^ Then were they on the seat before the door, Or in the dark walk lingering evermore ;

FAUST, 257

Now for the stool .and vv'hite sheet of repentance ; For one, I feel no sorrow at her sentence.

Marg. Poor creature ! but, no doubt, he'll marry her.

Liz. He ! — he'll be no such fool— the de'il may carry her, For what he cares— they say that he is off; He'll find another market soon enough.

Ma?'g. That is not fair.

Liz. 'Twill be almost as bad,

We will so plague her — if she get the lad ; — The wedding garland, should she think to wear it, From the mock virgin shall the cliildren tear it ; And, at her door, what fun we shall have, spreading Chopped straw, to greet the promise of their wedding.

[ExiL

Marg. \returning home]. How I would rail when some poor girl went wrong ! How, when it was another's sin and shame, Words of reproach would rise up to my tongue ! It was, it was black — oh how black, and I Blackened it more and more — no words of blame This virtuous scorn of mine could satisfy — Others might fall, but I more proud became — I blessed myself, and held myself so high, And I who thus could feel — am I the same ? But could I — who could — have resisted here ? All was so good ! all was so very dear !

X

258 FAUST,

ZwiNGER. — A Little Shrine.

In a niche of the wall a7i image of the Mater Dolorosa, with fioivers before it, — Margaret places fresh flowers ifi the bowls.

Marg. Mother benign,

Look down on me ! No grief like thine ; Thou who dost see In his death-agony Thy Son divine.

In faith unto the Father dost thou Hft up thine eyes ;

In faith unto the Father dost pray with many sighs.

The sword is piercing thine own soul, and thou in pain dost

pray, That the pangs which torture him, and are thy pangs, may

pass away.

And who my wound can heal And who the pain can feel, That rends asunder brain and bone ? How my poor heart, within me aching, Trembles and yearns, and is forsaken — Thou knowest it — thou alone !

Where can I go ? Where can I go ? Every where woe ! woe ! woe !

FAUST. 259

Nothing that does not my own grief betoken ;

And when I am alone,

I moan, and moan, and moan,

And am heart-broken.

The flowers upon my window sill, Wet with my tears since dawn they be ; All else were sleeping, while I was weeping, Praying and choosing flowers for thee.

Into my chamber brightly Came the early sun's good-morrow ; On my restless bed, unsightly, I sate up in my sorrow.

Oh, in this hour of death, and the near grave. Succour me, thou, and save ! Look on me with that countenance benign. Never was grief like thine, — Look down, look down on mine '.

Night. — Street before Margaret's door.

Valentine \a soldier — Madge's hrother\

Till now, as round the canteen hearth, My comrades, in their drunken mirth, Would of their favourites gaily boast, And pledge with soldier's glee the toast \

T 2

26o FAUST.

How on my elbow I would rest,

Smile as each swore bis own the best,

And stroke my beard, and raise my glass.

And when my turn to name the lass

Came round, would say, " Each to his tasts |

In my own home my heart is placed.

Where is the maiden, any wliere,

That with my Margaret can compare ?

Is there than Madge's in the land

A truer heart or fairer hand ?"

Oh, then, how cups and goblets rang,

While voices rose with joyous clang :

*' Right, right," in chorus, hundreds cried,

'^ First of them all— the country's pride —

His sister is" — and dumb and tame

The boasters suddenly became.

And now — oh, I could rend my hair,

Could dash my brains out in despair y—

Now must I feel my bosom gored

By daggers in each casual word,

And every ruffian's sneering eye

And scornful taunt my patience try ;

Gnawing my wrath must I remain,

And suffer and suppress my pain,

Nor dare say any word again ;

As hears the debtor gibe and curse,

Who meets a claim with empty purse.

FAUST,

Avenge it — what can vengeance do ? Must I not feel the taunt is true ?

See yonder ! sneaking out of sight, Two skulking scoundrels. — Am 1 right ? — 'Tis he — would Heaven that it were he — He scarce shall 'scape me if it be.

Faust, Mephistopheles.

Faust. See, in the window of yon sacristy, How from its little lamp the constant hght Streams up — while, at the sides, less and less bright, 'Tis fading— till it dies in the thick night That deepens round— and thus it is v/ith me — ' Darkness on every side around me spreads.

MepJh And I am like the thievish cat that treads. Prowling along, up ladders and down leads— A nibble in the dark — there's no harm in it — Or snatching on the roof a stolen love-minute. Already do I feel the power, The fun and frolic of the hour ', The advent of Walpurgis Night Bids every limb thrill with delight : Another night — another day^ And then the glorious First of May j Then to the Brocken fare we forth, Then learn that life is something worth.

262 FAUST.

Faust. Behold yon blue light glimmering ! Is that the treasure ? Lurks it there ? And will it from the dark earth spring ?

Meph. Be patient — you shall shortly bring The casket into open air : I peeped into the secret hoard. And saw the lion-dollars stored.

Faust. What ! merely money ? who would think it ? What good is this ? no ring— no trinket ? No ornament for the dear girl ?

Meph. Oh yes j there are some beads of pearL

Faust. I am glad of it, — it is not pleasant To go to her without some present.

Meph. Is there then no such thing as plea-surej, But what you may by payment measure ? I differ there with you— but see, The heaven is hushed, and full of stars i Now for a moment favour me With silence — while I sing some bara Of an old song — a sweet old air, Touched with true skill — a moral song That lures the heart and will along.

\Sings to the guitar^ Why, Catherine, stay At dawn of day, At dawning gray, Before the younker's door J

FAUST. 263

The merry blade Lets in the maid, That out a maid Never departeth more ! Beware — beware, And guard, ye fair, Your hearts with care. Poor things, beware of men — Oh, listen not to any thing They may say, or swear, or sing, Till on the finger is the ring — Beware, say I again. Val. \comes forivard\ What brings ye here? whom com.e ye to destroy. Cursed rat-catchers ? — to the devil with the lure — To the devil with the scoundrels.

Meph. Well done, boy,

The poor guitar is cracked beyond all cure, Val. Now for his skull.

Meph. Now^ Doctor, now's your tiine.

Courage — stick close — that's a brave fellow : Have at him — ^just do as I tell you — Out with your duster — thrust away — I'll parry.

Val. Parry that.

Meph. Child's play !

Easily done.

264 FAUST.

Val. And that.

Meph. As easy quite.

Val. The devil assists him in the fight — My hand is wounded.

Meph. Now thrust home.

Val. Oh, torture !

Meph. The clown's done for — come,

We'd best be off— have not a minute To lose — already is the cry Of murder raised — and although I Know the police, and have friends in it, This is a very ugly scrape. To manage it in any shape Perplexes me.

Mar. \at the windoiv\ Up ! — Up !— -

Marg. \at her windoiii\. • A light !

Mar. Railing and scuffling — how they fight !

People, [in the street]. One of them is already dead.

Mar. Seize on the murderers — are they fled ?

Marg. \coming cut\ "Who is it ? — Vv-ho ?

People Thy mother's son.

Marg. Oh God !

Val. I die — said soon — soon done ! Women, why stand you wailing, cr3'ing ? Will you not listen ? I am dying. Margaret, take counsel, you are still Young, and conduct your business ill;

FAUST, 365

I speak in confidence — you are A strumpet — throw away pretence — l")e one in earnest — there were sense In this — be one thing or the other.

Marg. My God ! what can you mean, my brother?

Val. Best let the name of God alone ! That which is done, alas ! is done. The past is past — the wretched game You play is everywhere the same, Begins in folly — ends in shame. First one man visits—then, less private,

Another ; soon the coy beginner Will welcome all, till she arrive at

The streets, and is a common sinner.

When Shame is born, she shrinks from sight, Draws over her the veil of night, Trembles at every stir, and tries Of hood and cloak the mean disguise, Yea — unfamiliar yet with sin — Would hush the warning voice within. On moves she unobserved, unknown ; But bigger soon, and bolder grown. Walks, hand in hand, the broad highway, With Slander, in the eye of day, And as her features, marred and coarse, From hour to hour look worse and worse,

266 FAUST.

While men behold her with affright, She stalks affronting the daylight.

Already do I see the day, When all, with loathing, turn away From thee, as from a plague-struck corse, I see the gnawings of remorse : — Abandoned outcast of the street, How wilt thou bear their eyes to meet ? Never, as once, the golden chain To wear in pride — never again ! Never again, that fairest face, To shine at church, in the high place, And never more the dance to grace ; — - No more in modest pride to deck With frills of snowy lace thy neck ; But in some filthy nook to lie, 'Mong strumpets live — 'mong beggars die; And find, for thee, heart-broken one. Though God has mercy, Man has none.

Mar. Pray, dying man, for mercy ; dread To heap God's curses on thy head !

Val, Fiend, could I tear thy leprous skin ! Procuress ! sordid slave of sin ! Then might I rest, my conscience freed From every weight by that one deed.

FAUST, 267

Marg. My brother — oh, what agony — Brother, forgive — I grieve for thee.

Val. Cease weeping thus for me : thy fall-— That was the sharpest wound of all. Fearless I go — as fits the brave — To God and to a soldier's grave.

Cathedral. — Service. — Organ a?td Anthem,

Margaret mnong a number of people. — Evil Spirit behind Margaret.

Evil Spirit How changed is everything With thee, poor Margaret, Since when, still full of innocence, Thou to this very altar

Didst come, and from the little old thumbed prayer- book Didst lisp the murmured prayers ; Half with ilie children out at play. In a child's happy fancies, thy young heart, And half with God in heaven.

And dost thou, canst thou think ? . . ,

Thy brain, where wanders it ? . . .

In thy heart oh what a weight

Of guilt, of evil done !

26S FAUST.

Prayest thou for thy mother's soul —

She who through thee did sleep and sleep av/ay

Into undying agonies ?

And on thy door-stead whose the blood ?

And in thy bosom is there not

A stirring, that is torture,

And with foreboding fears

Makes felt the present woe ? Marg. Woe, woe!

Oh that I could escape

These dark thoughts flitting over and athwart me. And all accusing me !

Choir. Dies Ir^, Dies illa

SOLVET S^CLUM IN FAVILLA.

Evil Spirit. The judgment arrests thee—

The trumpet is sounding—

The graves are astir —

And thy heart,

From the sleep of its ashes,

For fiery torture

Created again,

Awakes up and trembles, Marg. That I were out of this — I feel as if the organ Stifled my breathing, And that the anthem was Breaking my heart.

FAUST. 269

C/ioir. Judex ergo cum sedebit, quidquid latet adparebit, Nil inultum remanebit. Marg. I feel so tightened here, The pillars of the wall Are grasping me ; The arch above Weighs on me, — x\ir ! Evil Spirit. Hide thyself — sin and shame Will find thee out— O, never were they hidden — Air — light — exposure- Woe's thee ! Choir, Quid sum miser tunc dicturus, QUEM patronum rogaturus, Cum vix justus sit securus. E%nl Spirit. From thee their countenances The sons of light all turn. To reach to thee their hands Makes the pure shudder — Woe ! Choir. Quid sum miser tunc dicturus. Marg. \faintingy to the girl next her]. Your flasket, friend.

270 FAUST.

Walpurgis Night. — Hartz Mountains, Shirke and Elend.

Faust—Mephistopheles.

Meph. Would not a broomstick be a good thing here For a tired man to ride ? I wish I had got A buck-goat, rough and tough — neck thick, trot quic'c ; The road is long, and we are loitering, The time just come — the place still far away.

Faust. While I feel firm upon my limbs, the road Thus wild and intricate but pleases me j And this knobbed staff affords .support enough. Why should we wish the way more short ? To steal Silently through the deep vale's labyrinth. And issuing thence to climb these rocks, from which The bubbling water gushes up for ever, And streams a white precipitous cataract — 'Tis this — 'tis this that makes such paths delightful. The stirring breath of spring hath waked the birch. And the slow pine already feels her power — Shall we alone of all that live and breathe Remain uninfluenced by her cheering spirit ?

Meph. I can feel nothing of it — all within With me is winter — give me the bleak snow, And the cold ice upon my desolate path.

23*

FAUST.

With what a red and melancholy light

The waning moon's ..perfect orb.. ov.g,

casting faint, cold, unsetviceaWe beam A„d making each step dangerous-lsU. Dash -gai-t some stragghng tree or ,umn nicaUawildhreWUl-o'-tlre-Wisptohghtus.

See there is one burns bright and merrdy. ?K:freaUishsparMooM-.e«mgsawa On the regardless night hrsspendthrrftsplen

Holla, my friend, come join our co-pany,

come, come, instead of wastmgrdly there,

Come be the pilot of our perilous way,

Wm-o^-the-Wisp. Yours most respectiu y

serve you ; ^ • ^

But it is struggling against nature-devous

^^/''•«-^^'-'^^^':;;*iVsname,gostraight--

^"--^'-^rrr^Ublow thee out, On, saucy spark, on— or

Pnnr ^leam of marsh-light hfe.

Poor gleam o ^ ^^.^ .^ ^^ ^^^

Will-o' 'the- Wisp' •That the master of the house is here-my lord,

I will be all I can be, to oblige you,- BrthinU, the hill to-day is mad wuhmagr, r.ifweshouldnotgothestraightestroad, limber that your gmde is but a meteor.

272 FAUST.

Faust, Mephistopheles, Meteor {alternately^

Song.

Into the magic world, the centre

Of fancies strange and dreamy science,

By a meteor led^ we enter.

His wild light our best reliance.

Then, Meteor, guide us on in haste,

Through regions lonely, wide, and waste.

Woods — how swift they vanish by us ! Trees on trees — how fast they fly us ! And the cliffs, with antic greeting, Bending forward and retreating, How they mock the midnight meeting ; Ghastly rocks grin glaring on us, Panting, blowing, as they shun us !

Trickling on, through sward and stone, Rill and rivulet run down — Murmuring and rustling near. Voices meet and mock the ear \ Sweet sounds greet us from above : Are they — are they words of love ? Tender tones, that from the wild wood Whisper back the days of childhood ? All that was, when we were young,

FAUST. 273

Eden to the heart, now meets it; And the rock, with airy tongue. Recalls, restores, the enchanted song, And lingering in love -repeats it. How the song of echo chimes Like the voice of other times !

Tu-whoo ! — Tu-whoo !— the owl's in view Nearer, clearer, comes his hooting — Through the dusk air see him shooting — The long-horned owl, with pinions gray, The blind bat born in circles dizzy, The crow — the lapwing — and the jay, Are wakeful all — all out and busy — See lizards in the green twigs tender, With heavy paunch and long legs slender Every where strange sights we see- Are they what they seem to be ? — Here's many a twining plant that flings Round rock and root its serpent strings^ And seeks to dart, in eager watch The heedless journeyer's foot to catchj From close-compacted living masses Its angry fangs on each who passes ; Every where around us playing, Many-coloured mice are straying, Numberless, 'mong moss and heather ;

2 74 FAUST,

And the fire-flies crowd together,

With buzzing motion, swarming, crushing,

Round our meteor leader rushing !

We be strangers here who stray, Natives of the hills are they, Gleesome creatures bright and gay, Merry guides ! hurrah ! hurrah ! — Wild the escort — wild the way !

Tell me, tell me, where we are — We have wandered fast and far- Is our wizard journey ended ? Is the Brocken yet ascended ? E.ound us every thing seems wheeling, Trees are whirling, rocks are reeling — All in rapid circles spinning. With motion dizzying and dinning, Every thing that round us races Makes grotesque and fiendish faces; Swelling, puffing, multiplying, On all sides wild-fire lights are flying.

Meph. Come, be alive — so far, so well i We're at the half-way pinnacle. — The worst is over now — catch fast My mantle, while we turn and cast A glance beneath us on the mines Where Mammon in the mountains shines \

FAUST, 275

Faust. What a strange glimmer 'stains the ground, Like the dull heavy clouds around The east, ere yet the sun ascends : Far down the dusky hue extends, For leagues below earth's surface spread, A gloomy — thick — discoloured red, Tinging the dreary sides of this 'Desperate, hope-deadening precipice — Here rises smoke, there vaporous whiteness, But yonder what a blaze of brightness On every object round is gleaming ! — Now in a narrow thread ^tis streaming, And now the illuminating current Bursts sparkling like a winter torrent, Here, round the vale, you see it wind, In long veins delicate and slender. And there in bondage strict confined, It brightens into burning splendour ! A thousand sparks, like gold-dust, sprinkling The waste air, are before us twinkling. And see the tall rock kindling, brightening, Glows with intensity of lightning — Turret, — 'twould seem — and fence and spire Lit up at once with festal fire.

Meph. Well, is not Mammon's princely hall Lit gaily for our festival ! I'm glad you've seen it — the wild night

2-jG FAUST.

Bodes storm, that soon will hide it quite— Already is it swept from sight — Wild work is on the winds — I see already Omens that say the boisterous guests are coming.

Faust. The angry gale blows insolently upon us ! How keen and cold upon my neck it falls, Like strokes of some sharp weapon.

Meph. Firmly seize

The old projections of the ribbed rock — Else it will blow you down into the chasm Yawning below us like a sepulchre.

Clouds frown heavily, and hearken How the wood groans as they darken. And the owls, in fear and fright At the stormy face of night, Beat the air in homeward flight ; The halls of evergreen are shaking, And their thousand pillars breaking, Hearken how the tempest wrenches Groaning trunks and crashing branches, And the earth beneath is rifted, And the shrieking trees uplifted — Bole, and bough, and blossom cheerful, Fair trees fall in ruin fearful ; — How the haughty forest brothers Bend and tremble ! — how they fall !

FAUST. 2^7

V

How they cling on one another's Arms ! — each crushes each and smothers, Till, tangled, strangled, down come all; And the wild Winds through the ruin Are howling, hissing, and hallooing ! Down the valleys how they sweep, Round and round, above and under, Rend the giant cHfts asunder, And, witn shout and scream appalling, Catch the mighty fragments falling ! How they laugh, and how they leap. As they hurry off their plunder ! Headlong steep, and gorges deep, Gulf, and glen, and rock, in wonder, Echo back the stormy thunder !

List ! — I thought I heard a ringing

In my ear of voices singing- Above — around us — faint, now clearer, Distant now — now warbling nearer — Now, all the haunted hill along, Streams the maddening, magic song !

Witches in CJiorus. On to the Brockcn the witches are flocking —

Merry meet — merry part — how they gallop and drive, Yellow stubble and stalk are rocking,

And young green corn is merry alive. With the shapes and shadows swimming by,

278 FAUST.

To the highest heights they fly, Where Sir Urian sits on high — Throughout and about, With clamour and shout, Drives the maddening rout, Over stock, over stone ; Shriek, laughter, and moan, Before them are blown.

A Voice. Before the rest — beyond the best — Who to lead the group is fitter ? In savage pride see Baubo ride On her sow about to litter.

Chorus. Baubo — honour to whom honour- Benediction be upon her — Forward, mother ! — as we speed us. Who so fit as thou to lead us ! Forward — clear the way before us ! Then follow we in screaming chorus !

A Voice. Whence came you ?

A Voice. Over Ilsenstein —

As I past I peeped into a nest, And the night-owl, scared from her stupid rest. Fixed her frightened eyes on mine !

A Voice. O go to the devil — why drive you so fast?

A Voice. She grazed my side as she hurried past, And the skin is sore and the blast is chill : Look there — see where — 'tis bleeding still.

FA UST.

279

Chorus of Witches. The way is long, and weary, and wide — And the madman throng crowds on every side — The pitchforks scratch, and the broomsticks scrape, Will the child within escape, When the mother, crashed to death, Suffocating pants for breath ?

Wizards and Warlocks. \Semichorus i .] like the lazy snail, we linger and trail : Our woman-kind, as fleet as the wind. Have left us far and far behind — On a road like this men droop and drivel, While woman goes fearless and fast to the devil.

Wizards a?id Warlocks. [^Seinichorus 2.] Swift they go, and swift they go, And gain a thousand steps or so, J3ut slow is swift, and swift is slow. Woman will bustle, and woman will justle. But yet at the end will lose the day, For hurry and hurry a§ best she may, Man at one long bound clears the way.

Voices from above. Come with us — come with us from Felsen-see, From the lake of rocks to the eagle height Of the hills — come with us — to-night — to-night !

Voices from below. To wander above, is the thing we love. Oh for one hour of this one night ! For one mad dance on the Brocken height !

28o FAUST.

"When shall we join in the wild delight ?

We have washed, and v/ashed, and washed us white

Again and again — we are barren quite —

But our hearts are aglow, our cheeks are bright —

We have watched a-left — we have watched a-right.

And we hear the sound of the far-off flight

As they hurry away, and are swept from sight.

T/ie Tzuo Choruses. That wind that scattered the clouds is dead, And they thicken soon o'er the wandering moon : She hides her head — and the stars are fled ; — . With a whispering, whistling, drizzling sound, x\nd a fall of meteor fires around- Onward, onward, hurry, skurry, The hell-driven rout of wizards hurry.

Voice from heloiu. Stop — stop — stop.

Voice from above. What voice is this

Calls to us from the abyss ? Seems it that the words jast spoken From the crannied rock have broken ?

Voice from below. Stop — stop — stop — for me — for mc— Guarded and bound with slant rocks round — Stop — stop — stop— and make me free — Three hundred years moiling, three hundred years toiling, Hurry work — weary work — step after step ; — I grasp and I grope, and in time I have hope To climb to tlie top — sisters, stop — sisters, stop —

FAUST. 2S1

I anoint every joint, and I pray my own prayer, In the May-sabbath night, to the Prince of the air. — Are you not my kindred ? — and why am I hind'red From mixing among you, and meeting him there ?

Both Choruses. Brooms fly fast v/hen warlocks ride 'cm

Rams, with those who know to guide 'em ;

Broken branches gallop lightly ;

Pitchforks, too, make coursers sprightly. A buck-goat or boar is as good as the best of them ? Each man for himself, and who cares for the rest of them ?

Many an egg-shell air-balloon,

To-night will land at our saloon ;

He who fails in his endeavour

To join us now, is gone for ever. Half- Witch from below. Far away I hear their laughter, Hopelessly I stumble after ; Cannot rest at home in quiet — Here I cannot join the riot.

Witches in Chorus. Strength is given us by this oiiit- ment — We will keep to-night's appointment — We can speed on sea, no matter Were the sail a cobweb tatter ; And a plank as weak and thin as Snail's abandoned shell our pinnace. He who cannot fly to-night. Will never soar a wizard's fliglit.

282 FAUST.

Both Choruses. And when we've reached the topmost bound, Like swallows skim the haunted ground \ Far and wide upon the heath, Spread your circling guard beneath ; Watch and ward 'gainst treachery, With all the hosts of witchery.

Meph. The air is heavy and oppressive, And the whirling din excessive ; Rattling with the ceaseless babble, Of the tumultuous hell-driven rabble 3 Sultry, vaporous, and sickening ; To a denser substance thickening, Burning noisomely, and glittering With fiery sparks for ever frittering, Poisoning every thing it reaches. Atmosphere for fiends and witches. But cling more close to me, or we will lose Each other soon — where art thou ?

Faust \_from a great distance\. Here I am \

Meph. What, lost already — torn away so far — Then must I show that I am master here ! Make way, good people, for my young friend yonder : — Room for young Voland — room, sweet people, room. Here, Doctor, cling to me, and with one spring We'll rid ourselves of the whole set at once. They are too bad — this raving is too much

FAUST. 285

Even for me. — Look yonder at the blaze Of brightness — a distinct and steady flame ! How different from all the brimstone torches And wildfire lights that madden round the hill, — It tempts me to explore that distant copse — Come let us steal away from this wild crowd.

Faust. Spirit of Contradiction — well, lead on ! I cannot but admire the bright idea Of wandering to the Brocken in May-night, To enjoy, forsooth, the charms of solitude.

Meph. See, see the lights ! how cheerily they burn ! There seems to be a merry set assembled, A little party met of choice gay spirits.

Faust. Yet would I rather be above — see ! see ! Where through the whirls of smoke bursts the red light, And glows and triumphs— in what hurrying waves Numbers on numbers evermore increasing, The thickening throng streams onward — still — still

onward — All under the resistless fascination^ All to the worship of the evil One — The clue to many a puzzling mystery May be found here — to-night will be unravelled Many a strange riddle.

Meph. And strange riddles, too,

May be proposed to-night, and not unravelled — But leave we the great world and its distractions.

284 FAUST,

While we enjoy our quiet corner here!

'Tis quite estabHshed that, in all large parties.

The guests divide in small and scattered circles—

See the young witches all are naked there,

And all the old ones with coy bashfulness,

Veiling their timid charms — come, come, look pleasant,

If it were only to oblige a friend —

'Tis not much trouble, and we'll have rare sport.

I hear the music — curse upon their scraping !—

But 'twill sound better when we're used to it.

Come, come, I must insist upon your coming —

Come — I must introduce my honoured friend.

Well nov/, what think you ? Is not this a long

And splendid room ? You scarce can see the end \

A line of fires — at least a hundred, shine

Brilliantly : what a scene of gaiety

Of all kinds — chatting, dancing^ drinking here —

Cooking, and making love — can any thing

In the world be pleasanter ?

Faust. In what character

Are we to know you — devil, or conjuror ?

Meph. I travel, usually, incognito; . But upon gala days the great display Their stars and orders. — I've no need to sport A garter— for the horse's foot is here In high repute. — ^See you that sHding snail ? Eye — smell— touch — all gathered up into one ?

FAUST, 2S5

Hither she creeps — her trembling feelers out — Instinctively she knows that I am here, And touching — smelling — eyeing, on prowls she, Crowding herself together — wide awake — Out of her frozen sleep suddenly roused. Even if I wished disguise, it here would be A thing impossible — come, come with me. Forward from fire we saunter on to fire : Play you the lover where I introduce you.

\As they pass o?i, Mephistopheles allrcsjcs a parly siitmg round a few dying emb 67' s'.\ Old gentleman, pray, how do you get on In the corner here ? Why — sure you ought to be Alive, and flirting in some merry circle. See, where the gay young girls are giggling, yonder, — If you are thus dull, you might have stayed at home.

General. Who may trust a people's favour, Though he fight for them for ever ? To nations, as to girls ungrateful. The young are dear, the old are hateful.

Ex-Mi7iister. Little now to prize or praise ; — Give me back the good old days, When kings and courts obeyed our call, And ourselves were all in all.

Parvenu. I was one of Fortune's pupils, Disregarded doubts and scruples ;

286 FAUST.

Thus her golden gifts I found ; Then, alas ! the wheel turned round.

Author. How public taste declines ! — they never Read works that once were counted clever; — And then the critics — all invidious — Pert, prating, ignorant, fastidious !

Meph. [zvho has suddenly assumed the appearance of extreme old age\. I feel the world is waning into age ; All things are ripening fast for the last day. With feeble, tottering feet, for the last time, I've climbed the witches' hill — the wine of life Is low with me — and therefore 'tis that I, An old man, think the world is on the lees.

Huckster- Witch. Who'll buy ? who'll buy ?— great bargains, going ! Rare things here to tempt the knowing I— Stop and see them ! — my collection Well deserves minute inspection. Such variety, in vain Would you hope to meet again, Of the curious articles, Which your own old woman sells % Rare and precious ! every one Hath on earth its business done. Will you have the dagger knife,

That hath drained a brother's life ? - .

Or the cup that held a draughty

FAUST, 2?.'J

Which was death for him that quaffed?

— This was from a royal feast,

And a queen had drugged the bowl;

— This a chaHce, and the priest,

— On him a confiding soul

Looked for comfort — poured in it

Venom of the aconite :

Here are trinkets — chain and gem —

Young man, you should purchase them— -

Pearls, with which the wealthy donor

Won vain woman to dishonour.

Poor things ! poor things ! — the best and kindest

Fall soonest, for their heart is bHndest,

And feels, and loves^ and does not reason —

And they are lost — poor things ! poor things !

— Here are swords, the gift of kings,

That have done the work of treason ;

Or pierced, some coward hand directing,

The sleeping or the unsuspecting.

Meph. Old lady, you mistake the times we live in — Every one's heart to novelty is given : Throw out your box of relics — such antiques As these no creature fancies now or seeks. The past is dead and gone — the present passion Is novelty — this trash is out of fashion.

Faust. Scarce know I v/ho I am or where — They crowd and rush as at a fair.

2 88 FAUST.

Meph. Forward the whirling crowd is striving, All driven along the stream and driving, All rushing on in one direction, And each enjoying the reflection That he to-night is his own sovereign, That his own thoughts his movements govern. Unconscious that the same broad river Bears down its wave each self-deceiver,

Faust. Who's that ?

Meph. Her features closely scan—

'Tis the first wife of the first man.

Faust. Who, say you ?

Meph. Adam's first wife, Lilith.

Beware — beware of her bright hair, And the strange dress that glitters there : Many a young man she beguileth. Smiles winningly on youthful faces. But woe to him whom she embraces !

Faust [lookmg at a?iother group\ The old grey witch- how she squats down — poor devil ! Panting for breath — half dead — fainting and floun- dering— And the young vixen with her finds the revel Rather too much for her— she, too, is foundering.

Meph. Nonsense, the fun will ne'er be over. Advance, my friend, and play the lover. Look, man, the girl's well worth the winning —

FAUST. 289

Come, join the dances just beginning.

[Faust rt;/^ Mephistopheles take parsers.

Faust [daficing with the young witch]. 'Twas my fortune once to see In a dream an apple-tree ; Rosy apples — one, two, three — With a glad smile tempted me ; And to-night again I seem. In the trance of that sweet dream, Lovely is the tree I wis, And the apple pleasant is.

Bis Fa?'f. Dear little apples — ay ! their price Was more than gold in paradise — And pleasant to the sight and touch I come from gardens rich in such.

Meph. \ivith the old witcJi\. I had a troubled dream, and it Was haggard as a night-mare fit. I saw an old tree torn and split, And yet it pleased me, I admit.

His Part. With lowest courtesy I salute The gay knight of the Horse's Foot ; The tree of knowledge, trunk and root, Is his — and his must be the fruit.

Pi'octophaiitasmist. Cursed devils — how they murder All attempts at keeping order : All in vain it is to prove

290 FAUST.

To Spirits by what laws they move : — Mocking at all regulation, Ridiculing demonstration, See them onward still advancing, Ghosts ! like men and women dancing.

Fausfs Part. Who's this presumes to interfere ? What means the forward fellow here ?

Fcmst. What — he ? — why he is everywhere — He never dances — but he guides Opinion — disapproves — decides — On carriage and the true division Of time gives laws with calm precision. While others dajice he criticizes^ And all is perfect that he prizes ; And what he does not prate about Is but of small account, no doubt ; Nay, such his wondrous powers of seeing, What he beholds not has no being ; Our careless grouping must perplex him, But dancing forward's sure to vex him. The only figures he approves Are where the set in circles moves, Still turning his own humdrum round Within the same contracted bound, Holding, at times, grave consultation, Listening to him with veneration,

FAUST. 291

As he with magisterial rigour Commands a change of tune and figure.

Proc. Still here ! defying me ! this rabble Of rude ghosts ! — 'tis intolerable ! What ! restlessly still thronging hither ? Vanish from my sight — fade — wither — How can men say that spectres haunt 'em ? — The mind^ does it not make the phantom ? Who and what are they ? — mere relations That we may see or not at pleasure — And here they come and — grant me patience— Mix in the dance — converse at leisure. I thought, that, by my labours brightened, The world for this was too enlightened. These devils— they rise, and in derision Of all I say, still cross my vision. What — beings, that have no existence, To mock each law of time and distance \ Why, after this, the Tegel ghost May grin again at his old post, I thought I'd swept away these fancies Of plays, and poems, and romances ! Still here ! with all the noise of Babel, These dreams of a forgotten fable !

Fausfs Part. Silence, silence, old intruder !

Ptqc^ What! the ghosts are growing ruder--

K 2

292 FAUST.

How they beard me, in defiance

Of every inference of science !

Fiends, I tell you to your facer;,

I will make you know your places !

What ! in public thus to fool us !

A mob of ghosts, forsooth, to rule us ! \The dancing goes on.

To-night — why this is Goblin-hall,

Spirits and spectres all in all.

My comments — what are they? — the cavils,

Of a sour cynic on his travels,

A passing stranger's jealous spite.

— But Time will set the matter right,

Good sense assert its proper power.

Dethrone the tyrant of the hour.

And take revenge on my tormentors,

Goblins^ and ghosts^ and ghost-inventors !

Meph. He'll throw himself into a puddle : There will he, stupefying, muddle. Till leeches, clinging to his body, Are weary of their banquet bloody: For spirits sinking — spirits rising The one cure is phlebotomizing; Delusions vanish soon — the leech Diseases of the head can reach And cure them — biting on the breech. — Blue devils fade fast, and, disappearing, Smile on the sage with aspect cheering.

FAUST, 293

The brain will thus correct and clear its Vague whims, and vexing thoughts of spirits. — Why have you quitted thus already Your sweet and captivating lady, Who sang so lovingly and well, And danced so

Faust, W'hy, I fear to tell ;

But from her mouth, while she was singing, I saw a little red mouse springing.

Mcph. Why start at trifles, my good fellow? 'Tis well it was not grey or yellow. Wliat can these dull suspicions profit? The mouse — why make a mountain of it? A pretty sort of reason this is To fly a loving lady's kisses.

Faust. And then I saw

Meph, What?

Faust, Look, Mephisto, there,

See you far off, and shadow-like, a fair Pale form — a lovely girl — almost a child — Standing alone— with sweet eyes, sad and mild ? She looks on us — she moves — she leaves the place — Her feet are bound— she slides with mournful pace. I cannot from my heart dispel the wild, Strange thought, that her's is my own Margaret's face.

AFeph. Repel that thought ; 'tis but an idle trick Of heated fancy, and the form you see

5 94 FAUST,

Is nothing but a magic mockery.

To gaze on it most dangerous may be.

Charmed by its marble stare, the blood grows thick

And hardens into marble ; but ere now

You must have heard of pale Medusa's brow.

Faust. Ah, no ! a corpse's eyes are those Whose lids no loving fingers close. 'Tis she — -that form — that face — that breast So often to my bosom prest.

Meph. Fool ! 'tis delusion ! every lover Would there his charmer's looks discover.

Faust. What mirth is here — and, oh ! what grief — my glance Still — still returns to that pale countenance ; And see around her neck a slender chain, That stripes the snowy skin with crimson stain : Scarce broader than a knife's thin edge it gleams— A strangely chosen ornament it seems,

Meph. Yes, you are right ; for I can see it too. — But think no more of it than others do. Be not surprised, if you should see her carry Her head under her arm — 'twere like enough ; For since the day that Perseus cut it off. Such things are not at all extraordinary. But see, all others here are pleasant ; Cease moping, and enjoy the present ; All around the hill is merriment—

FAUST,

Try thou the same experiment. Never did crowded capital A gayer throng together call ; And if my senses do not err, Yonder's an open theatre. — Well, what's your business ?

Servibilis. We are just beginning — 'Tis a new piece — the last of seven — seven is The customary number here — 'twas written By a young amateur of fancy — the actors Are dilettanti all — your pardon, gentlemen, But I must vanish — I'm an amateur Myself — and for this one night draw the curtain,

Meph, Blocksberg for ever ! — not a player On earth but merits to be there !

WALPURGIS NIGHT'S DREAM;

OR,

The Golden Bridal of Oberon and Titania. An Interlude.

Ma?iager. To-day our trouble is but small. No need of nice machinery; A valley moist and hill are all The necessary scenery.

295

296 FAUST,

Herald. 'Mong mortals with the fiftieth year Of wedlock comes the Golden Feast — A happier feast of gold is here Commemorating discord ceast.

Oheron. Subject spirits, crowd the scene, Celebrate, with exultation. The union of your king and queen, This happy reconciliation.

Puck. Here comes Puck — you'll always find me Circling in the merry dance. And a hundred more behind me Twinkling joyous feet advance.

Ariel. Sweet, heavenly sweet is Ariel's song. What a crowd of hideous features The music wins, and what a throng Follows me of lovely creatures !

Oheron. Men and wives who would agree, We invite your imitation ; The only certain recipe

For dying love is separation.

Titan ia. If wife be cross^ and husband fuming, To make them know each other's worth, To the South Pole take the woman, And her husband to the North.

PAUST. 297

The Whole Orchestra. Insect swarms, in murmuring flight, Our musicians of the night, Fly, and gnat, and bee, and beetle, Ply mouth, nose, and winglet little. Crickets, chirping, 'mong the bushes. And hoarse frogs croaking from the rushes.

Solo. Hear the drowsy bagpipe groan,

The bag's a soap-blown bubble airy. And grumbling through the winding drone Come sullen sounds extraordinary.

Embryo Spirit. Spider's foot and lizard's belly, And winglets for the embryo ! The animated lump of jelly

Writes verses of the smoothest flow.

Partners dancing. Little steps — light, springy leaps

Through honey-dew and field-flowers fragrant ; How pleasant, but that something keeps From fields of air the willing vagrant !

Inquisitive Traveller. A thousand figures here burlesque A masquerade's wild gaiety, And mingling with the groups grotesque, See Oberon the little deity.

Orthodox Divine. What ! without claws — without a tail ! Yet all whose thoudits are sober on

298 FAUST.

Such serious subjects know too well The " Gods of Greece " and Oberon.

Artist fi'om the North. As yet my works are sketches merely, Though you'll admit done prettily, But I've made my arrangements nearly For travelling in Italy.

Fojinalist. What sinful, riotous excesses !

Fool that I was to join the crowd here- Such shockingly indecent dresses !

And but a witch in two wears powder !

Young Witch. Keep powder, patch, and petticoat

For grey-haired hags — skins smeared and sooty- While I sit fearless on my goat In the free pride of naked beauty.

Matron. For scolding we've too much politeness — Sneers like this are best forgotten. Rosy cheek, and soft neck's whiteness, May they soon be coarse and rotten !

Leader of the Band. Insect-harpers, as you wander Round the hall in many a ringlet, Spare the naked beauty yonder

Wound of sting, or touch of winglet.

FA UST. 299

Grasshoppers from the green bushes,

Brown frogs croaking from the rushes,

Brave musicians for the night, '

Watch that the tune and time go right.

Weathercock \_poi71ting in one direction\ Well, what a brilliant company ! The girls how fair and unaffected ! And not a man but seems to be For beauty from mankind selected 1

Weatherc. \_poi71ting in the opposite direction\ What devils all ! unless the ground Should cleave asunder to receive them.

I'll fly from this place, with one bound, To hell, or any where, to leave 'em.

Xenien. Small as insects, here we bring

Our little shears ; the crops we gather Will be a grateful offering

To Satan, our liege lord and father !

Hennings. What merry groups are crov/ding there ! Up to every frolic started ; And when they're gone — I won't say where — We call them foolish, but good-hearted.

Mtisaget. Oh happy, happy bard ! whom chance To such a circle introduces.

300 FAUST.

With these I'd rather lead the dance Than be Apollo with the muses.

Genius of the Old Times. Come, follow me through smooth and rough : Cling close — there's little need of ceremony. On Blocksberg we'll find room enough, The wide Parnassus 'tis of Germany.

Inquisitive Traveller. What's yonder pompous fellow's name ? With long and solemn strides he's pacing, And, like a dog that snuffs the game, The Jesuits, methinks, he's tracing.

Crane. I seek my prey in waters clear, I seek it in the troubled rivers ; This scene is my delight, for here Are devils mixed with true believers.

Worldling. For true believers every thing

Works good in all ways unexpected ; With hymns the Blocksberg rocks shall ring. From many a convent here erected.

Dancer. Is this another company.

With trumpets sounding — banners glittering ? No ; 'tis the boreal lights I see :

From marshes hear the booming bittern.

FAUST. 301

Z>aJici??g-m aster. Devils — how they fling and jump — Through the figure flounce and scufile ; Spite of wooden leg and hump, How they caper, cut, and shufiie !

Fiddler. Hatred in every heart ! the tone

Of Orpheus' lyre, with charm celestial, Soothed brutes ; to-night the bagpipe's drone Tames into peace the blind and bestial !

Dog7natist. Well, I'll maintain it — spite of sneer, Or argument, or gibe uncivil — I see a thousand devils here,

Which proves the being of a devil.

Idealist. Imagination's power to-night

For my sensorium too intense is ; If I be all that meets my sight, Then surely I have lost my senses.

Realist. Reality ... is torturing me ;

I'm wearied with this scene of wonder;

The ground — it seems the ground to be —

Gives way my tottering feet from under.

Suternaturalist. Here, for my system, as I rove, Delighted I derive assistance ; If there be devils, it m.ust prove Of angels also the existence.

302 FA l/ST.

Sceptic. Misled they follow fairy rays,

That promise gold with gay delusion : Devil and Doubt, the proverb says, And both increase to-night's confusion.

Leader of the Band. Grasshopper among the bushes. Brown frog croaking from the rushes, Hell and all its devils haunt ye, Good-for-nothing dilettanti — Pretty sort of harmony, Nose of gnat and snout of fly.

Shrewd Fellows. Call us Sans-souci — for you know That each of us, a gay philosopher, If on his feet he cannot go, Walks on his head, nor fears a toss over.

Awkward Clumsy Creatures. Oh once. Heaven help us ! we could dance ; How pompously we then did swagger ! Now shoes out-worn, and sore feet torn, Along the course we faintly stagger,

Will-d-the~ Wisps. From the sink and slough we come, From the hole of steaming nitre ; And yet, in all this dazzling room,

Shine there sparks more gay or brighter?

Falli?ig Star. Rapidly I shot from high,

With fiery course in brightness starry ;

FA UST. 303

Here broken on the grass I lie,

With none to help me, none to carry.

Heavy Bodies. Places — places — round go we — Where we dance how bare the sod is ; Spirits move, and all may see Spirits have substantial bodies.

Puck. Like awkward elephants they thump

The ground with clumsy hoofs and heavy, Strange shadows ! Puck alone is plump, The sleekest spirit at the levee.

Ariel. If wings be yours — boon Nature's gift — And if the spirit so disposes, Then follow Ariel — follow swift — Your guide to yonder hill of roses.

Orchestra [pianissimo]. Daylight! — the cloud-built stage

— the wreaths Of vapour, — where are they ?

On reed and rush the free air breathes, And sweeps the dream away.

A Gloomy Day. — A Plain.

Faust. In misery— in despair — long wandering in wretch- edness over the wide world ; and now taken up — shut up in the prison as a malefactor — this gentle, unhappy creature

304 FAUST.

— for horrid tortures. To this — and has it come to this? Treacherous, worthless Spirit ! and this hast thou been conceaUng from me ! Stand, there, stand ! Ay ! roll the devil eyes furiously round in thy head — ay ! stand and defy me with thy unsupportable presence. Taken up — in dis- tress irretrievable — given over to evil spirits— abandoned to — man — man that passes judgment, and is devoid of feeling; and all this, while you have been lulling and rocking me and deluding me among loathsome dissipations, and hiding from me her continually increasing wretchedness, and have left her to perish without help !

Meph. She is not the first !

Faust. Dog ! abhorred monster I turn himi, oh, thou in- finite Spirit, turn the reptile again into his dog's shape, in which it was often his pleasure to scamper before me by night, to roll before the feet of the unthinking passer-by, and as he fell to fasten on his shoulders. Turn him again into his darling shape, that he may crouch upon his belly before me in the sand, and that I may trample upon him with my foot — the outcast ! Not the first ! Misery — misery — by no human soul is it to be fathomed how more than one creature should have sunk into the depths of this dis- tress— that the first should not have suffered enough in her agonizing tortures to secure the atonement of all the rest before the eyes of tlie All-merciful ! I feel marrow and life harrowed up by the misery of this one — only this one ! thou art grinning calmly over the fate of thousands !

FAUST, 305

Meph, At our wits' end we are again, it would seem, already — just where you mortals find the overstrained facul- ties snap. Why seek our society, if you cannot go through with it? Think of flying, and yet art not proof against dizziness ! Did we force ourselves upon thee? or thou thyself upon us ?

Faust. Show not thy thirsty teeth thus defyingly — I loathe thee. Great, glorious Spirit ! thou who didst deign to appear to me, thou who knowest my very heart and ; why hast thou chained me with this companion who feeds on mischief, and battens on destruction ?

Meph. Are you done ?

Faust. Save her, or v/oe to thee ! the most horrible curse on thee for thousands of years.

Meph. I cannot loosen the avenger's fetters — I cannot open his bolts. Save her ! Who was it that threw her into ruin — I or thou ? [Faust looks wildly around*

Art thou grasping for the thunder ? Well that it has not been given to you wretched mortals ! To dash to pieces one who stands in your way — however innocent — that is just the tyrant's way of rescuing himself in every perplexity.

Faust. Take me thither — she shall be free !

Meph. The danger to which you expose yourself— have you thought of that ? The guilt of blood shed by your hand still lies on the town. Over the place where the mur- der was committed avenging spirits are hovering and watching for the returning murderer.

3o6 FAUST.

Faust. That, too, and from thee ? Murder and death of a world upon thee, monster ! Take me thither, I say, and set her at liberty.

Meph. I will, — and all I can do I will. What that all is, listen till I tell you. Have / all power in heaven and on earth ? I will cloud the gaoler's senses. Do you possess yourself of the keys, and carry her off with human hand. Meanwhile I watch ; the magic horses are ready, and I take you away. This much I can do.

Faust. Up and away !

Night. — Open Plam.

Faust and Mephistopheles rushing along on Black Horses.

Faust. What are the figures near the gibbet doing ? Weaving, 'twould seem !

Meph. No — rather boiling, brev/ing

Some filthy broth — mumbling some incantation;

Faust. East they move, and west they move— now kneel, now bend down in prostration.

Meph. Witches worshipping their master.

Faust. They scatter something on the earth, and now seem pouring a libation — ■They sprinkle something in the air.

Meph. Forward ! forward ! — faster ! faster 1

FAUST, 307

Prison,

Fmist \ivith a bunch of heys and a lamp, before an iron wicket]. 'Tis many a day since I have trembled thus. Misery on misery heaped — a heavy burden. More than man can endure, has weighed me down. And here within these damp walls doth she live, And is to die because she was deluded — To die for that her brain was wild and frenzied. And thou dost hesitate to go to her ! Dost fear to look upon that face again I Onward, irresolute ! — this wavering Delays not death.

[^He takes hold of the lock. — Singing from within.^ Song.

My mother ! my inother !

The ivanton woman — My mother hath slain me.

My father^ inhujnan, for supper hath to! en me —

My little sister hath, one by one.

Laid together each small zvhite bo7ie,

'Mong almond blossoms to sleep in the cool;

And 1 woke me a wood-bird beantiful. Fly aw ay ^ fly away, all the long summei'-day^ Little bird of the woods, fly away ! fly away I

Faust \openi7ig the wicket\ She feels not that her love is

listening —

3o8 FAUST.

Hear the chains, as they clank, and the straw rustling.

\He enters. Marg. [/udi?ig her face in the straw of her bed']. Woe !

woe ! they come ! they come ! — death, bitter death ! Faust [in a low voice\. Hush ! hush ! 'tis I who come to

rescue thee ! Marg. \r oiling herself at his feet\ Art thou a man? Have pity upon me.

Faust. Hush ! hush ! these screams and shrieks will wake the keepers. \Hc takes hold of the chains to unlock them. 'Marg. \thr Giving herself on her knees to him\ Savage, who gave this cruel power to thee ? It is not more than midnight now — have mercy ! Is it too long a time to wait till morn ? \She stands up.

And I am still so young — so very young ! And must I die so soon ? — and I was fair — And I was fair, and that was my undoing. Oh, if my love were here — but he is gone — Torn is my garland — scattered all its flowers — Oh, do not grasp me with such violence — Ah, spare me ! sure I have not injured thee : Let me not weep and pray to thee in vain 1 Spare me — I never saw thy face before. Faust. I must— I must endure this misery! Marg. I know that I am wholly in thy power — Only permit me first to give my breast To this poor child of mine : all the long night

FAUST.

309

I hugged it to my heart, they took it from me ; They took away my child to torture me, And now they say that I have murdered it, And never never more shall I be happy : And they sing songs about me — 'twas Hi done; It was ill done — so the old ballad runs. Who told them I was meant in it ?

Faust \throivs himself dozvfi]. A lover, Margaret, lies at thy feet ; He comes to undo these bonds — unloose these fetters.

Marg. \throws herself beside hini.\ Let us kneel down, and call upon the saints. See ! see ! beneath us hell boils up— the devil Is raving there below in hideous din !

Faust [alotid]. Margaret — Margaret.

Marg. [with eager attention]. That is my love's voice.

[Springs np — her irons fall off. Where is he? — Where? — I heard my own love's voice ! Now am I free, none, none shall keep me from him. ni clasp his neck — will lean upon his bosom ; I heard him call, — he's standing on the threshold, — I heard him call the name of Margaret ; — Amid the noises and the howls of hell, And threats, and taunts, and laughs of devilish

scorn, I heard my own love's voice — his loving voice \

Faust. 'Tis I.

mgm

310 FAUST.

Marg. 'Tis thou !— oh, tell me so once more !

[Presses him to her bosom. Tis he, 'tis he — my pangs, where are they now ? Dungeon, and chains, and scaffold, where are

they? ,

"'Tis thou, and thou hast come to rescue me. I am already free : look — there's the street Where we first met — where first I saw my love— And yonder is the cheerful garden, smiling, Where I and Martha waited to receive thee.

Faust [striving to take her away]. Come, come with me.

Marg. Oh, stay a little while —

Some moments more — I love to stay with thee !

\C ares sing him,

Faust. Haste — haste — a moment lost we dearly rue it.

Marg. So short a time away from me, my love, Already hast forgotten how to kiss ! Why do I feel so sad upon your neck ? Time was all hea-ven was pressing down upon me In all thy words, — in every look of thine, Yes, very heaven, — and then, then you did kiss me As if you would smother me with your kisses ! Kiss me— now kiss me, love — or I kiss thee !

[She ejnhraced hifn. Ah me ! you lips are cold — are dumb — are dead — Where are my kisses, where? with whom have you left them ?

FAUST. p^x

Where is my love ? who robbed me of your love ?

[Turns from him.

Faust. Come, come — take courage, follow me, my love. I love thee with unutterable love ; But follow me, — this one—this one request.

Marg. \turningtohwi\. And is it thou,and is it thou indeed?

Faust. Yes, yes ! But come !

Marg. And do you break my chains 1

And do you take me to your heart again ! How is it you do not shudder at my sight ? And knowest thou whom thou art delivering?

Faust. Come !— the deep night is fading fast away.

Marg. My mother^ I have murdered her — my child, I drowned my child — Oh was it not, a gift To thee and me ? — yes thee ! yes, thine ! and thou art here, I scarcely can believe it is thyself. Give me thy hand — it is not then a dream ; ^

Thine own dear hand. Oh, God! his hand is moist — Wipe, wipe it off ! methought it felt like blood ! What hast thou done ? Put up the bloody sword ; I pray thee do.

Faust. Oh think not of the past ;

That which is done, is done. You are killing me.

Marg. No, you must live. No, you have to remain, I will describe to you the graves which you To-morrow must see made ; the best place give To my poor mother — near her lay my brother —

31- FAUST.

And by their side, a little space away, But not too far from them must be my place — And lay the little one on my right breast ; No other will lie with me in that bed ! To nestle down in quiet side by side To thee — oh what a happy thing it was — ■ A happy thing that never more can be. ■ I feel as if I forced myself on thee, And that thou wert repelUng my embrace ; And yet thou art the same — and yet thy looks Are good and kind, as they have ever been.

Faust. Oh, if thou feelest that 'tis I, come, come.

Marg. What ? out there ?

Faust Yes ! out into the free air.

Maro. Ay, to the grave — does not death lurk without .> Come to the bed of everlasting rest — Yes^ yes — that's all — that's all — not a step farther-— Are you going, Henry ? may I go with you ?

Faust. Come, come ; the gates are open, only come.

Marg. I dare not go ; there is no help for me. What good is it to fly ? My steps are watched. It is a hard thing to be forced to beg. And harder, harassed by an evil conscience. 'Tis hard to wander in a foreign land, And then, whate'er I do, at last they'll seize me.

Faust. I will be with thee.

Mai'g. [tuiidiy]. Fly, fly,

FAUST, 313

Save thy poor child ;

Away to the road,

By the side of the stream,

And across the path

That leads to the wood ;

Then turn to the left,

And over the plank.

It lies in the pond.

Loiter not, linger not.

Still does it stir

With the motion of life.

The little hands struggle

More faintly and faintly,

Rescue ! Oh rescue ! Faust. Eecall thy wandering mind — be calm ! be calm! One step, and you are free.

Marg. Oh, that we had but left that hill behind ! See there, my mother sitting on a stone — Icy-cold comes a dead hand on my temples. My mother there is sitting on a stone, And her grey head is trembling, and her eyes Close, and she now has ceased to nod ; her head Looks heavy, and she sleeps too long— too long — ■ Oh, when she sank to sleep how blest we were ! It was a happy time !

Faust. She listens not ;

314 FAUST,

Words have no weight with her. There is no way, But forcibly to bear thee hence.

Marg. Touch me not ; no, I will not -suffer violence : Seize me not with that murderer's grasp ; whate'er I did was done for thee, my love. I did Every thmg my love asked me, willingly.

Faust, Dav dawns— oh, hasten hence, my love ! my love !

Marg. Day ! yes, 'tis day, the last, the judgment- day ; My bridal- day it should have been ; tell none That thou hast been with poor weak Margaret. Alas ! my garland is already withered ; We'll meet again, but not at dances, love : The crowd is gathering tumultuously, The square and street are thronged with crushing thousands ; The bell hath sounded j the death-wand is broken ; They bind and blindfold me, and force me on : On to the scaffold they have hurried me ; Down in the chair of blood they fasten me : And now, through every neck of all that multitude Is felt the bitter wound that severs mine. The world is now as silent as the grave !

Faust. Oh, that I never had been born !

Meph. [appears at the door]. Away, or you are lost; This trembling, and delay, and idle chattering, Will be your ruin ; hence, or you are lost ; My horses shiver in the chilling breeze Qf the grey morning.

FAUST. 315

Marg. What shape is that which rises from the earth ? 'Tis he, ^tis he, oh, send hirn from this place ; What wants he here ? Oh, what can bring him here ? Wliy does he tread on consecrated ground ? He comes for me.

Faust. Oh, thou shalt live, my love.

Marg. Upon the judgrnent-throne of God, I call ; On God I call in humble supplication.

Meph. \to Faust]. Come, or I leave thee here to share her fate.

Marg. Father of heaven, have mercy on thy child. Ye angels, holy hosts, keep watch around me. Henry — I am afraid to look at thee.

Meph. Come — she is judged !

Voice \_from ahovc\. Is saved.

Meph, \to Faust], Hither to me !

[^Disappears with Faust.

Voice [from within, dying away\. Henry ! Henry !

THE END.

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